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badgirlcovenrep · 3 years

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atlas

Alex Chen × Steph Gingrich fluffy comfort one-shot

(I was talking to a friend about the game and we were discussing how Alex is probably still carrying a lot of trauma. And even after everything that happened at the mines we still don't see her really grieve for the whole situation and herself. So- I had to write it, you know?)

Enjoy!

TW: mentions of suicide, death and mental health issues.

It's two months into their relationship now, and they are somewhere in a Californian town, living in a tiny apartment close to the beach. They play together in small venues and underground clubs. Alex bartends and Steph referees for DND campaigns at a nerd bar they found by chance on their first week there.

They're happy. As happy as Alex remembers being since she was- well, maybe nine.

Every day, it's a little like waking up into a dream. Living in an apartment with her first girlfriend, listening to music as they cooked dinner together. Getting to kiss her just because Alex felt like it. Because her heart went a little loopy inside her chest when she smiled. Because she knew Steph would hold on to her waist and make her feel like she was full of electricity.

The 'falling in love' business felt overrated before Steph.

But Being in the middle of it now, Alex doesn't think there's anything better.

Although a part of her still felt quite numb - she guesses it's not something that will go away that easily - and day by day, Alex felt a little bit more like she could breathe... like she was finally letting herself go, at least a little bit.

****

Now that she could comprehend and use her powers, it also seemed as if she'd started to become even more of a magnet for all sorts of emotion around her. And apparently Alex could do it in her sleep too.

The nightmares came in clusters most of the time, a badly cut-together mess of voices and feelings. The lady that lived under them, who lost her son when he was little. The couple from down the street, who were going through a hard time in their relationship. Even the little girl from upstairs, who had terrible night terrors of sharp-teethed monsters reaching from under her bed.

They all mixed inside her head until she woke up gasping for air and sizzling with emotion.

It was rare that she'd have a full dream, one that made sense and completed itself, but when she did they were always about Gabe. About sitting together at the rooftop of the Lantern and sharing a beer. Or climbing trees, like they used to do when they were little.

It was a relief from the usual doom.

And that dream was supposed to be nothing different. Or at least she thought it wasn't.

****

In it, they were at the ravine. A world of twinkling stars shining above their heads. The Colorado mountains all around them creating a landscape that was just as beautiful as it was bittersweet. Alex could see the log she'd crossed, still standing between her and the tiny outcrop of stone Ethan had been stranded on.

She hadn't dreamed of the ravine since leaving Haven Springs, but while she was there, Alex dreamt of it every night. She would see it when her eyes were closed. She could hear it, - the sirens, the terrible, deafening rumble of the ground splitting beneath them. The panic, pounding into her ears.

But this is different. Because when she looks around, Alex realizes she's standing over the elevated plateau, tied to the waist and leaning all her weight against a sturdy piece of rock.

Looking at her from below is Gabe. Lying on the cold ground. A cheesy smile spread across his face.

"Why are we switched?" Alex asks because that's all she can think of asking, as she stares at the rope that anchored her to the ground... to Gabe.

"Beats me. This is all your brain, not mine." He says, and Alex huffs in annoyance, "you know what's going to happen, but you keep coming here."

"I don't have a choice."

"Hmmm..." Gabe hums, but there's some humor in his expression as he stares intently back at her, "and that's exactly why... I'm here because I should say goodbye."

A coldness spreads over Alex's limbs. Around her, the very fabric of the dream dims into darkness as a strong breeze blows past them. She suddenly feels like throwing up.

"What- what does that mean?" It's a stupid question. This is her dream. Alex knows what it means.

Deep down, she knew she'd been conjuring him up for her own sake. Trying to bring back any morsel of relief into the giant hole he'd left inside her heart. However, Alex also knew at some point he'd be gone- she just didn't expect-

"You don't need me anymore, Alex." He says. As if it's that simple. As if she'd ever-

"I'll always need you, Gabe. Of course I need you." The words stumble out of her mouth, and she can feel the hot, angry tears falling down her face.

It feels like a hot iron pressed to the very top of her chest.

Like lava, boiling up into her bloodstream until Alex wants to punch something. The steam that prickles from under her skin, fighting to break free.

Anger always comes first when people feel cornered. It's something she noticed a while back. Out of all the emotions Alex had dealt with the past few months, that, at least, hadn't changed.

"Shit, Gabe. When you died I needed you more than ever."

"But we can't fix that, can we?" He asks, and another wave of anger rips through her. She looks anywhere but him, because Alex feels that if she does, she'll tackle and kill him all over again. But when he says nothing and they're left in the same pocket of silence - the one right before the whole world collapsed - her eyes eventually fall back to her brother. Tied to her and laid on the ground beneath. Looking at her like just as much the goofy asshole she missed so much.

Anger always felt urgent and fast, like a flash going through her body and leaving everything inside it in disarray. It demanded to be completely felt, but only for the moment it took for Alex to decide it wasn't worth launching the nearest object at a window.

Or trying to kill her dead brother.

"You might have needed Gabe. But you don't need this Gabe anymore, Alex. You can do it on your own now."

The fear and sadness that came after? They were usually much, much worse.

"But this is the only Gabe I have."

Those emotions, when mixed, turned into a horrible harmony that paralyzed her lungs and darkened the sides of her vision. They felt just as urgent as anger, but complacent. A beast staring at her from the very bottom of a pit. Tied to her by the waist and trying to lure her down into the abyss.

And, for Alex, the abyss was as deep as a ventilation shaft for a Colorado mining site.

"No, it's not. You'll always have me, Alex. And you know that." Not in the way that matters. Alex wants to say, but it's so redundant. He's the ghost. He should already know that. "And you have Ryan now, and Eleanor, Riley, Charlotte, Ethan... Steph..." he gives her a cheesy smile in the last name, wiggling his eyebrows back at her teasingly.

"Oh, God, way to ruin the moment." Alex can't help but chuckle a little through her tears. Is she blushing? You can't blame her for blushing, right? God, she feels like Diane.

"Hey. Let me have it. One of my only regrets is that I never got to tease the hell out of Steph for dating my little sister... and for being whipped as hell."

"That would have been so funny."

"I knew she'd get along with you but I guess I didn't expect... that. Shame on me. Should've had more artistic vision."

Alex chuckles as more tears run down her face. It's so bittersweet it hurts from the very inside of herself.

"All jokes aside. I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. She's good. Just make sure you tell her I'll haunt her from the grave if her dumb ass breaks your heart, okay?" Alex nods, and her body starts shaking with strangled sobs. So much emotion she just can't let go of. Because if she does, Alex is afraid there'll be nothing left.

"Hey. Don't cry. You can do this, Alex. You know how to live life now."

"I don't want to lose you again, Gabe."

"You'll never lose me. You'll just have to look a little harder." He smiles up at her, pulling jokingly on the rope, "now play your part - or is it my part? You get it."

And then- too soon. (Same as it was that night.) The sirens blast through the mountains, and somewhere above them, a giant explosion blows her eardrums, and boulders the size of cars come tumbling down the mountain.

She barely has time to blink. Barely has time to breathe one last time. Seen as she's Gabe, when she looks up all she sees is the giant rock, flying towards her, hitting her across the torso so hard, before she knows, she's flying way above the ravine, and one last glimpse of the stars catches hold over the veil of her memory before everything turns black.

****

She wakes up in bed, desperately clawing at the top of her chest as she gasps for air. Her lungs feel like they're made of lead, and all around her, she can feel the weight of the rocks, the explosion, the debris, weighing down her body.

Alex pats across the mattress for Steph, who is not there. Another wave of panic washes over her. So strong her mouth turns dry and her head aches as she tries to breathe in, but her lungs can only handle tiny, torturous gasps of half-breath.

Alex dispels a world of curses towards herself inside. Willing her own body to just calm down. In the bathroom, she can hear Steph singing softly to herself- she must have come home late from the DND tournament. Alex told her she'd swing by, but she'd had a long shift and ended up just passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alex hadn't had an incident like this in very long. She could control it now. Most times. It wasn't easy, with being on the road and constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes, she still got more than she could bargain. When she walked across a depressed person on the sidewalk, or heard one of their multiple neighbors yelling at each other through the walls, and suddenly she felt as if the world blended out of focus into a tsunami of feeling.

Feeling that wasn't hers but still felt so much like it was.

Steph helped whenever it happened. For a sarcastic punk rock mess, she was surprisingly stable and so very reassuring.

Just the fact that she can hear her voice. That Steph is there in the apartment with her, is enough to calm some of her nerves, and while Alex still can't keep herself from pulling in gasps of air as she tries to hold in any kind of oxygen, she at least has a plan.

Water. Water will make her feel better, right?

Almost as soon as the idea crosses her mind, Alex's half-delirious brain commands her to get up, but her body feels so very heavy. Like she's really been trampled over by a wave of giant boulders. And as soon as her feet touch the ground, her legs give up under the weight, and she falls onto the hard floor with a loud, heavy thud.

The girl's hands fly up to hold her weight against the bed, and thankfully that means she doesn't face plant the ground, but it sends her heart into a neck-breaking pace, and all air Alex'd been able to gather so far escapes her in a single huff until she's hyperventilating again, hot, angry tears running down her face.

You're so weak. You're such a fucking idiot. Of course, you had to go and lose Gabe twice, who the fuck would want to stay with such a mess-

"Alex, are you okay?" Steph's voice comes, as she opens the door to find her girlfriend sitting on the ground, looking like she might pass out from just trying to get her lungs to work, "Alex!"

In a second she's crossed their room and kneeled by her, both hands going up to her cheeks on instinct, smearing away her tears.

"Breathe with me, okay? We've done this before, you can do it." She always gets just a tiny bit of a scared aura around her when Alex gets like this, never for long enough that she can read it, but it's still there, the tiny flutter of fear, "come on, breathe."

Her eyes go up to find Steph's, her strong, glittering green gaze. Alex might be the one with superpowers, but it was Steph who could so easily reach in and soften her edges like it was nothing. It was Steph who could just lean in and hold Alex's hand against her chest, letting her feel the determined rise of her lungs. Strong. Stable. Even Alex couldn't possibly understand how she did that.

How she always made Alex's breathing slowly come to shaky, deep breaths, crawling painfully out of her dry throat, but still better than gasping like a fish. Inside her, Alex feels the furious hurricane of emotion, twisting itself into the bottom of her lungs, taking hold of every bit of her until she felt like she could throw up.

"Wait here, I'll get you water," Steph says, and Alex wants to complain, she doesn't want to be alone, even for a second.

But before she can, Steph has left their bedroom for the kitchen, and Alex feels as if she's stable enough to crawl into bed, so she does so at a glacial pace. She grabs Shu-Shu, holding her close to her chest as she sits and waits for Steph.

She eventually comes back in with a glass full and Alex gulps it down in silence, unsure if whatever dam of emotion that has taken place inside of her will break if she tries to speak. So she sets the glass back and lies her head down on the pillow, facing away from Steph and the rest of the room as she tries to reel herself back in.

She can hear Steph taking off her boots and climbing into bed, one arm winding around her waist as she pulls Alex in closer.

"Was it the lady from upstairs?" Steph asks, eventually, after they sit in a few long minutes of silence.

"No." She replies, and it comes out so strangled, so broken, a few more tears run down her face. Steph pulls her even closer, a tight, steady pressure.

"The couple again? I swear to God I'll call the police on that asshole this time."

"No." Alex says, and she detaches herself from Steph just enough so she can turn around and look at her, "I had a dream about Gabe." Simply saying his name makes her whole body shake. Steph is looking at her so intensely, Alex has to close her eyes, holding on to the fabric of her shirt with all she had not to explode in whatever terrifying, dizzying bomb of emotion she could feel brewing inside herself.

Alex felt so much from other people it overwhelmed her multiple times a day, and even then, it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how much sheer strength it took from her not to let it blow.

It scared her. More than anything.

"He wanted to say goodbye." She says eventually, "it was- I don't know. This- I- this isn't coming from anyone- How do I get rid of it? It's like it's all inside of me and it's taking up so much space and I don't know how to fix it" The words come tumbling out before she can stop them, and she's rambling through tears.

Steph sighs. And Alex can feel the love and sadness mixed together, blowing from her in waves as she holds Alex's chin, bringing her up so they can look at each other.

"Baby..." there are tears in her eyes now, as she pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching, and they are so close Alex can smell her lemongrass shampoo, "This is all yours."

And such simple words shouldn't hit her this fucking hard.

But it all suddenly makes so much sense-

Alex was numb after her dad left. She felt nothing for months. It was one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, a deep and powerful depression that threatened to overtake her at any given point.

Like her whole body was nothing but dead weight and her brain was way too tired to even try and keep up.

Young as she was, Alex guesses she never realized the first time she felt anything at all after that was when she discovered her powers. The day a boy came to the orphanage and he was so angry it blew her across the hallway. Ever since then, everything around her was a cacophony of feeling. Coming from every direction. Every street corner, every store, every park.

Every moment of her life since she was eleven, Alex could only feel for others.

"I- I forgot." She realizes, half surprise and half so much sadness another sob breaks through her throat.

Now it made sense, the anger, the sadness, the fear, a hurricane of emotion so very powerful it made her ears ring.

"I'm scared." She admits. Because for someone who had been so focused on learning how to exist among other people's feelings, Alex had no clue how to handle herself, "what do I do with all of this? How do I fix it?"

"Alex. Look at me." Steph brings her face upwards until they are so close, Alex can see the speckles of blue in her eyes, "Gabe died just four months ago, and you were there to see everything- then you got shot and thrown down God knows how many stories into a dark abyss that you somehow walked out of, but not before also finding out about your dad's tragic death - and I haven't seen you cry, actually cry, for yourself, even once."

"I- I can't, it's too much. I don't know how, Steph." Alex had learned her lesson. She'd seen her life as it was and survived it. Deep down she knew it wasn't her responsibility anymore - that it never was her responsibility, to begin with - to hold herself together for others. She knows.

But old habits die hard, and Alex guesses it'll take a while before she starts feeling it too.

Because right now, it still felt like the world might collapse if she wasn't there to hold it together.

"Just- give it to me. Everything you have, I can carry it for you." Steph says, with such determination, Alex actually believes her, but she takes her eyes away, trying to avoid the bubbling of tears threatening to jump out through her throat "Let it go, please, Alex. I can't watch you carry it alone anymore."

At that moment, Alex glances at her again, and there's so much pain, so much love in her eyes, that inside Alex, the dam finally breaks and she's choking on sobs. Tears start running down her cheeks as Steph leans in and pulls her closer, one arm around her shoulder and one on her hip, squeezing tight in reassurance.

If she didn't know better, Alex would've guessed Steph was the one with the superpowers, with the way she coaxes wave after wave of emotion out of her with nothing but her steady presence and quick, light kisses she leaves on Alex's head and hair as she holds on to her shirt for dear life.

It overwhelmed her more than anything she'd experienced so far, and for what feels like hours, she just sobs as Steph holds her.

She cries for her mom. Dead before her time, trying to hold them together to the very end. She cries for her dad, dying a slow death deep underground, a picture of the two children he'd never see again dangling around his neck. She cries for Gabe, for the time they'd never have, for the time they did have.

Above all, for the first time, Alex cried for herself. For being the last out of all of them. For the little girl that had to love and lose every single one of them in succession.

And in the middle of all of it, like a speckle of golden light hidden under all the darkness, for the first time, she feels that it could all start to feel alright.

#send me chenrich prompts #i dare you #chenrich #chengrich #alex chen #steph gingrich #life is strange true colors #long post #chenrich fanfic #chenrich fic #alex chen × steph gingrich

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mydramaspace · 3 years

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Part 3: "Are you really that oblivious?" In which everything floods out into the open.

If you're new here, you can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here! :')

Part 3. Posted on 7 May 2021.

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Sometimes, you feel like your entire life is going to be a series of duck-and-hides from people you know. Because that is what you have been doing ever since you ran out from the cafeteria a week ago when you saw Joo Hyuk looking at you. Min Hyuk has been trying to contact you everyday, but you've ignored every single one of his texts and calls, and have hardly left your room. Yes, it is unhealthy to eat only slices of bread for breakfast, lunch and dinner each day but desperate times call for desperate measures and you know for sure there has been no person more desperate than you for a while now. But today, you will have to step out. You will have to brave the world, and confront anything that needs confrontation. But that's okay, you've got a solution for that: headphones, loud music, and power walking. No one would dare approach you if they couldn't see you power walk your way past them. One can only catch you if they see you, haha!

Even as you step out into the street, you know your plan is the stupidest thing you've ever thought of, and you've done many stupid things, including but not limited to thinking fuck meant a variety of fish. You duck your head, put on the most fast-paced music you have and begin your walk of shame to the administrative office to drop off your test results. Walk of shame indeed, your answers on that test will be enough to give your examiner second-hand embarrassment for most of his life.

Your mind must be playing tricks on you because everywhere you look, you keep seeing Joo Hyuk. Or so you think, because it is never actually him. He wears a lot of the same fandom shirts for some game that a lot of boys at your university wear too. Capitalism has really made life difficult for everyone on the planet, and you finally agree with every anti-capitalist argument you've heard till date. Capitalism is making it difficult for you to walk a few meters without flinching every time you see a t-shirt that reminds you of Joo Hyuk. You're so busy keeping an eye out for him, you forget about the other annoying brat who's on your tail. Min Hyuk.

And Min Hyuk grabs your hoodie and drags you all the way to the classroom upstairs. You struggle, throw a tantrum, almost like you're crying for your life because who knows what sort of nonsensical things he's gonna feed into your mind at this point. You resist until he lets you go in front of the classroom, both of you breathing hard, and whack him on his head. Hard. "Ow! That almost makes me regret helping him." Min Hyuk glares at you. "Help? Help who?"

"Why don't you find out genius?" You shoot a dirty look at him and walk into the classroom, only to come to a dead halt. Joo Hyuk is standing there, his back to you, and on the board in front of him, is a graph and many many equations. A laugh strangles its way out of you, and then you're laughing loudly, clutching your stomach. For a moment there you thought, no, you hoped, he was going to confess that he likes you. Foolish foolish thought, Y/n. Min Hyuk must have snitched to him that you're struggling with your Statistics revision, and being the good best friend he is, Joo Hyuk has stepped forward to help.

You are so embarrassed, you want to fling yourself off the cliff that is a few kilometers away from your campus.

Joo Hyuk jumps, startled by your laugh. When his eyes land on you, his entire body relaxes, and you realize how painfully him that gesture is. Well that is what best friends are like around each other right? Completely at ease. That's what your mind is saying, the logical, rational way of thinking. The way that will not end up in you hoping for something more, then being disappointed and then crying yourself to sleep again. But your heart...you heart is saying something else entirely.

"You're here!" It's as if his entire being lights up on seeing your awkward wave and he excitedly grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you to stand in front of the board where all the equations begin. You know, I'm really not in the mood for stats now, of all times. Maybe you should say it out loud. Maybe you should tell him, for once, and safeguard yourself from the hurt you know is going to consume you the minute you realize it's not the confession that your heart is hoping for.

"Joo Hyuk I-" your sentence is cut off when you realize how close Joo Hyuk is standing to you. Your back is almost touching his chest, and you can feel the heat emanating from his gray sweatshirt, smell that ocean-scented detergent he always uses on his clothes, and feel the hairs rising on your hand, your ears going red, and the throbbing of your heart. You can see the smudges of chalk dust all over his face, and the lights overhead sparkle in his eyes like star dust. And his eyes are on you. "You what, Y/n?"

"I-" Words seem to have fled your mind.

"You can tell me later. First, take a look at the board."

"I'm not in the mood for a math lesson, y'know?"

"Okay, but it's not a math lesson."

You cut a quick glance to the board and scoff. There are plus and minus symbols all over the place, and similarity indexes scribbled hastily alongside a graph chart. "Okay fine, it's a stats lesson. But I'm not in the mood for that either."

"Really? Did you take a proper look at the first equation?" You roll your eyes but take a look, curiosity stemming through you. "The mode equation?" You wonder out loud, and Joo Hyuk voices an affirmation, and that's when you feel the warmth spreading all over your arm. You turn sharply, to see his hand over yours, a piece of chalk tucked into your fingers. You look at him, hardly breathing, hardly hoping because these things only happen in fiction. How can this be happening to you? No, he's just helping you out that's all. Nothing more. Nothing-

"Look at it properly, Y/n, please." He guides your hand to the equation, the feel of his rough calloused palm against the back of your hand sending shivers running through you. "See what it says?"

All sense, all coherency, all your English words have deserted you when you most need them. "The what now?" And he laughs looking at your expression, and its a laugh that rumbles through his chest into you like a physical hug of comfort and you want to wallow in it forever, you don't want this moment to ever end. "The formula for the mode of my thoughts."

That snaps you back. The mode of his...thoughts?

"Your thoughts?"

You've never been so grateful that he's taller than you. Because this, standing with him, feels like heaven. And even if he never confesses to you, you'll take the memory of this to your grave, relive it a hundred times in life and even more so in death. So much more that you're determined to be called the ghost of reliving in whichever place all people go to after they die.

Joo Hyuk's laughter gets happier, and you slap your free palm across your mouth, horrified that you said all that out loud. "But, Y/n, I am confessing. Or at least I'm trying to, but you're not cooperating." He grins at you like everything is alright in the world, like he hasn't just dropped a verbal atomic bomb on you just now.

"You're what?"

He pulls you gently to the graph, one hand still enclosed around your hand with the chalk pressing into your palm. You clutch it tighter, almost unable to believe that this is actually happening. "Take a look." he lets go and steps back, and you step back too, almost in reflex, to get a good look.

And your breath leaves you in one breath.

Because on the graph, you see your name multiple times. "Wait, you do know what mode is right?" Joo Hyuk sounds panicked, and you would have smacked him if you weren't so inexplicably happy right now.

"Yes. The element that is repeated the most number of times. So if this is a mode of your thoughts..."

"It means I think of you the most every day of the week, every hour of the day, most of the minutes of the hour, because I do spend some minutes thinking of when to do my laundry sometimes and then I need to think of feeding my dog and I-"

You don't let him finish the sentence and fling yourself at him, enveloping him a tight hug. "You're such a dork." Your voice is all wavy because of the emotions threatening to consume you. Happiness, surprise, happiness, surprise, love. "Is that in a good way or a bad way?"

"What do you think?" You demand, unable to believe how oblivious he's being.

"Well, about 50% of researches online say it's a negative connotation, and the remaining 50 are divided in their results and I don't know which one I believe frankly because most of their data is skewed and their data sets rarely match the published-"

"Oh my god, it's a good thing you dork!" You press your lips to his, effectively silencing him. It takes him a good moment to kiss you back, but when he does, it's enough to make the world slip beneath your feet.

But that's okay because he grabs onto you, and you're very sure you will not be letting go of him too. And in the corner of the board, in the teeniest letters ever possible are the words I see sparks fly, whenever you smile.

xxxxxxxx

A/n: I had the biggest grin on my face while I was writing, cause ahhhhh these two nerds <3

Hope you liked this haha!

#nam joo hyuk #korean actor #adorable dork #nam joo hyuk x reader #reader x nam joo hyuk #fanfic #reader romance #romance #friends to lovers #nam do san #start up #korean drama

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leviiattacks · 3 years

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Two Faced | Chapter One

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

Shock-waves of terror rush through your body. You can feel your heart thump erratically against your chest and your train of thought is a complete mess. All you know for sure is that your fate is certain, you're going to die. The illegitimate daughter of the Rambova family from the Negri Republic is going to be killed and it just so unfortunately happens to be you. Your eyes are coated in a fresh layer of tears and all you can do is sit there huddled in the corner of your room whilst you pray. Pray to who exactly? You're unsure of that detail.

The days of pain and neglect that you constantly endured ended with the war caused by a single man. That man who was rumored to be cruel enough to murder the child of another enemy noble in cold blood. The Duke of the Paradis Empire. Levi Ackerman. By the emperor's orders he took an army to conquer all of the rebelling, independent countries which surrounded Paradis, and unfortunately for you the Negri republic was one of them.

Soon, the Rambova family was the last of the nobles left within the nation.

"Y/N. Even a little pest like you has a role to play. You must stay back and protect the castle." that was the first and last thing your father said to you when news of the war spread. Your father threw you away and so did the rest of your household. Not even a thank you was issued when they all dashed past you towards the palace's back gates. Truth be told you were simply a child born out of convenience, born to marry another aristocrat to strengthen the family's reputation, but the war made you see your position with even more clarity.

No one ever loved you in this palace, it would be futile for you to say they did, lying would not ease the numbing ache in your heart.

"SEARCH EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY!" One of Duke Ackerman's men alerts the other soldiers and that's when you begin to shiver in pure terror. The shrill screams of the palace maids can be heard and are more than audible, they echo back and forth, settling in the shells of your ears. You really are going to die today and no one's going to save you. Who would? The servants who laughed at you because of your shameful origin? Those servants seem to be at deaths door themselves, you don't hold anything against them. Or would it be your "family" who treated you like the dirt beneath the crevices of their shoes? That "family" had ditched you and left you for dead in the palace. Duke Ackerman was a wild animal and you were a piece of bait to everyone else. No one was going to help you and this was the end of the line.

You gaze out your window and see even more of his army approach. There's not enough time for you to run, even if you attempt to do so you'll be killed in no time at all. Your mother's words echo in your mind. No one was willing to keep her around. A toy, that's what she was for your father, a play thing on the sidelines for when his real wife wasn't well. A few years after giving birth to you mother had fell gravely ill but father did nothing to help. The money needed for her treatment wouldn't have even made a dent in his riches but he did not see it fit to spend such a large sum on the likes of her. He wasn't going to help a courtesan who refused to abort what he deemed a nuisance. That's what you and your mother were - problems, issues, nuisances and inconveniences he wanted nothing to do with.

But right now all you can think about are her last words. They ring in your head and you feel your tears creep right back up. However, they subside when you take the true meaning in.

"Listen carefully, when the grim reaper comes for you, act proudly and look him in the eye without fear. You must do so for me." the one time you had seen her force a smile was then, on her death bed she had smiled so daintily it felt fake. Why did she have to act strong even in her last moments? Why did she have to try her damnedest to hide her pain and suffering from you?

Without a seconds thought you decide to follow her last instructions and what she taught you. Deciding to look death in the eyes, it's the way your mother wanted you to leave. To die proud of yourself was a privilege she never received.

Shakily, you walk towards your dresser and throw on your best dress. It isn't amazing considering the fact that your father barely invested any time in you let alone any money but you made do with it. Tying the faded baby blue ribbon that came with it around your waist you play around with the frilled sleeves. Screams are all you can hear but you swallow away your fear. Putting your hair up into a bun and pinning it back as tightly as you can, your face is in full view now, you won't be able to hide behind your hair when you're finally taken away.

With faith and hope in your heart, that is how you choose to exit. Faith that after this something better was coming. An after life with mother, one where she would be treated the way she deserved. A place where you'd be able to see her smile in sincere clarity. As you stick the last pin into your hair the door to your bedroom rumbles. It takes a matter of seconds for it to be knocked down by three soldiers.

Two of them march towards you and yank you away from where you are in front of your mirror, in the chaos a vase full of flowers shatters and hits the floor. The sound of the glass shattering and hitting the marble floor only makes the situation more intimidating.

The soldiers drag you through the hallways of the castle and the way they grip tightly onto your arms irks you slightly. They're quite literally dragging you towards the slaughter house yet they continue to handle you and the other innocent people within the palace's walls with this degree of brute force. You know you don't deserve to die, nobody here does.

At some point you're thrown to the floor of the main hall, a pain shoots up your side due to the impact of your hip hitting the floor but you soldier through it. You try to look death in the eye but it beats you to it.

Multiple bloody corpses are scattered across the floor. A heap of them are piled up in one corner and your eyes water in defense. The Palace's head chef is one of the latest additions to this pile, her guts hang out, she's been sliced open mercilessly. The contrast between her current form and her usual stern but soft face haunts you.

This was your fate, your body was going to be hauled atop of this pile of corpses. How were you to die? Would you be cut up into bite sized pieces? Would your heart be ripped out of your chest, left to bleed out until you and death would meet?

You place your hands in front of you and they land on the floor as you raggedly breathe in and out trying to calm yourself down. Mother said death was scary but you never thought death would be delivered to you in the form of cold blooded murder.

Your haphazard thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you hear a deep, gravely voice from above your head.

"Child of the Rambova Family." He pauses and your head shoots up to see who's addressing you.

Shaking once again the tears you've been holding back spill out. You are face to face with death himself, the grim reaper in human form. Duke Ackerman. His feline eyes are devoid of any emotion and he looks down at you through his eyelashes as though you're an animal.

Looking you up and down as if you're nothing but a pest you can't help but smile at that. Everyone thought of you that way, you weren't ever good for anything right? Your thoughts make you wallow in even more sadness and you burst into an extensive crying fit in front of the Duke himself.

He murmurs something inaudible under his breath then you see him swing his leg backwards. He savagely kicks your left shoulder and you fly towards the cold hard floor."You're oh so, stupid." Shrieking, as his boot drives further into you, the lump in your throat hardens. "For not." another kick is delivered to you this time, it hits your right shoulder angularly. "Running away." a final kick lands on the left side of your face and despite his boots digging into the hollows of your cheeks you don't cry out in pain like you did the first time. That is until he swiftly holds you by the neck and firmly slams you up against one of the marble walls to perfectly punctuate his point. Letting go of you midway, you crash to the ground again, gulping and gasping for air.

His eyes. They're stone cold. You can't sense any emotion behind him. Yet he kneels down to your level his slim fingers trace the tear stains across your cheeks. The coarse but warm texture of his hand catches you off guard, you aren't accustomed to human touch and by reflex you unintentionally move slightly closer to his warm palm. He sneers at you absolutely disgusted with the way you react to his touch.

"It's a shame that you're objectively my kind of woman." His eyes snake towards the ribbon which cinches your waist in and the tension you feel increases ten fold. His gaze then meanders to your collarbone which is now crudely exposed after your one sided fight. His eyes darken "What a shame indeed." He mutters.

You begin to think that maybe the man above you has some pity left in his heart and you reach your hand out to possibly negotiate but before you can the fatal sound of him unsheathing his sword is heard.

Not even a knife can cut the tension in the air but somehow the words he shamelessly announce next manage to do just that.

"I shall give you the honor of having me personally see to your death."

Your life flashes before you eyes. He darts towards you and the cold edge of his sword is as close as it can be to your neck.

Don't close your eyes, Don't close your eyes. Look him in the eyes for the sake of mother.

Defiantly, you glare at him through the tears which mingle with the perspiration which coats your face. The tears rain down your cheeks and a droplet lands on his hand.

He flinches at the damp feeling but you see the grip he has on his handle harden.

You hadn't noticed in the previous frenzy and chaos but he's covered head to toe in blood, the ugly sight causes you to try and hold in your external reaction. But you can't fight away the tears, you clamp down on your lips so tightly that blood gradually trickles down your chin.

There were so many activities you wanted to try. You wanted to wear a beautiful dress, you wanted to fall in love, you wanted to marry, you wanted to see the world and all it had to offer. You wish as hard as you can for some sort of help some sort of release. You feel terrible because you aren't facing death in the eye. You aren't proud, you've betrayed your mother. Your blood and tears mix together and you swear you see a glint of something from the corner of your eye, but that's not the issue right now. You're about to die. This is real. This is all real.

You watch in fear as he swings his blade above his head preparing to end it all, right here, right now but suddenly a flash of white light illuminates your surroundings, you and the Duke are both momentarily blinded by it. The light morphs into an intricately beautiful symbol. Then, the clatter of his sword falling to the floor is heard. Your thoughts race, what on Earth is going on? At that moment a streak of light pierces through Duke Ackerman's chest and he groans in pain.

Pulsing from the pattern is a strange, bright light. You watch it flicker, changing colors from silver, to a misty white, then it suddenly weaves itself into a sky blue. You clench your fists, your nails digging deeper into your palms. Threads of silver then engulf both you and the Duke. You both become a part of the stunning floral designs. It's whimsical being trapped inside the kaleidoscope of colour, it's all so beautifully horrifying.

Out of nowhere both you and the Duke are flinged to the floor and the performance evaporates away. Curled up in a ball you're far too fearful to look up and see what has happened. You hear his voice again.

"My lady, please forgive me for my rudeness." The Duke murmurs his words and you can't make out whether or not he's being condescending or is genuinely apologetic.

Then he does the unthinkable, he falls down on one knee.

"And please allow me to receive the pleasure of marrying you." He sticks his hand out gracefully expecting you to hold it but you stare at him in pure horror.

"From the moment I saw you my heart was simple ensnared by your beauty." He holds onto your cheek affectionately, it feels different this time, you can feel the love practically spill out of his voice and touch but you're ultimately confused. He can't possibly love you, you're strangers. Oh, and he did try to decapitate you a few seconds ago.

His eyes are the definition of infatuation, they seem to glint with happiness even in the dimly lit hall and you have no idea what to say to this sudden confession. You don't even know where this confession has come from.

Then realization dawns on you.

It does sound impossible but it's really the only thing you can find remotely believable at this point.

Has someone perhaps cast a spell on the Duke? And is that someone, you?

You stare at his hand apprehensively and you know you've got no other choice. Even if he is joking and ridiculing you, at least you know you've tried to not fall directly into death's expectant hands.

"I...am yet to except. However, I shall give you a fair trial to court me." You awkwardly agree and place your shaky palm into this hoping he isn't fooling around. Much to your relief he isn't, you witness the man's eyes soften as he faintly kisses your knuckle.

Your surroundings are a landscape of dead bodies, you want to jerk your hand away from the monster in front of you, but your goal is survival.

Thinking about what exactly you have got yourself into, it doesn't seem to be pretty at all.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #aot #snk #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi fluff #levi angst #levi smut #the smut comes later ok ok pls don't attack me T__T #duke levi #leviiattacks

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fresh-prince-of-denmark · 3 years

Text

Interpretation of V’s Mikoshi Poem Pt1: Life is Murder

Cyberpunk spoilers ahead:

Let’s talk about Cyberpunk’s literary references and what they mean for the story, coming from a former English professor/teacher.

Alt will read you one of two poems you cross the bridge to the Mikoshi depending on who is in control. Johnny is read an excerpt from Sailing to Byzantium by Yeats, while V is given an excerpt from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. For now, let’s focus on V’s poem:

“Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question. . . .

Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"

Let us go and make our visit.”

Cool. Some English majors (derogatory) work at project red. So why should I care?

Well I’ll tell you:

First, a summary: In this story, the narrator is on an evening stroll with a woman he most likely has a romantic relationship with although the vibes are far from a romantic love sonnet. Interestingly enough, the first few lines of this poem have been cut from Alt’s reading; including the epigraph from Dante’s inferno, which translates to the following:

“If I but thought that my response were made

to one perhaps returning to the world,

this tongue of flame would cease to flicker.

But since, up from these depths, no one has yet

returned alive, if what I hear is true,

I answer without fear of being shamed.”

This missing piece from Alt’s poem can be read several ways; most of them drawing a parallel between the Blackwell and hell. In fact, Dante’s inferno has a lot of similarities to the story. One can make a comparison between Virgil and Alt, leaving a debate on who plays the roll of Beatrice (the one being saved) and Dante (the one doing the saving) between Johnny and V. I have to wonder at the writers choice to leave this portion out, as there’s a lot to be said here about who truly comes out alive: who’s flame will cease to flicker? V, for obvious reasons, does not return to the world of the living the same. She will not live much longer, and is dying despite being temporarily “saved.” However, if Johnny returns to the body, he is no longer the Johnny we know; arrogant, self-assured, and more than a little narcissistic. The will to fight seems to have died within him; he leaves Night City, presumably looking to start over. While V clearly changes him before Mikoshi, he is a broken and somber man after returning to life, a flickering flame of who he once was. There’s also a connection to be made about Johnny/V dying and returning to life, literally rising from hell. The next part of the missing introduction is as follows:

“Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;”

I can’t think of a better way to describe what is happening in Mikoshi aside from the line “Like a patient etherized upon a table.” Johnny and V, in this moment, are suspended in an almost dream-like state. In Eliot’s poem, the “treatment” this patient is awaiting is presumably an examination/reflection of the self, which will lead to the narrator making a major decision. In this scenario, V is being forced to make a very tough choice, one that will take a lot of reflection as they decide what (a few months) of their remaining life is worth.

On to the actual portion of the poem that Alt reads:

“Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent.”

While Prufrock is taking his lover on a romantic stroll, they are hardly walking through rose gardens. They are traveling through the unpleasant parts of a city, and he is noticing all the unsavory parts of his world. Obvious references to night city include one-night hotels (such as the no-tell motel, the Pista Sofia, or the hotel that Johnny and V stay at after the parade, which Johnny gripes about and asks ‘what kind of losers stay in a place like this?), and ‘the sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells,’ which is possibly a reference to the fact that food in Night City is real sketchy (odd things like synth-milk, which Takemura complains about throughout the game). The streets like a tedious argument works on several levels here; both the crime of night city’s streets, which is relentless and quite literally never-ending (V can’t walk two blocks without an assault in progress task spawning), and the socio-economic ecosystem that threatens self-combust at any point. There will always be conflict between gangs, between corpos, between Arasaka and Militech, and between the nomads and the Raffins/Wraiths. In one mission with Padre, you find out that Arasaka and Militech are on the verge of waging another war. None of this conflict is positive, and always ends in bloodshed, often of the innocent. One can argue themselves in circles trying to find a solution to NC’s problems, there is no win-win situation. It’s a bit of a damnned if you do, damnned if you don’t situation. This comes up in conversation with Takemura on his career with Arasaka, as well as several other missions that involve those who choose to work for corporations to survive. This is also a point of conflict between V and Johnny a multiple times, one that never gets an answer. A literal tedious argument, tedious because there are no ‘happy endings for all involved’ in Night City. The final lines of Alt’s reading have more to do with V/Johnny’s final choice:

“To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.”

All the unsavory things V has to do to survive, all the people that have died to get to Mikoshi, lead up to one ‘overwhelming’ question: who will live on? There are so many other questions that should be answered: what is beyond the Blackwall? Are Johnny and Alt real, or is the soul truly dead, and are they just a copy of the people they once were? What happens to the idea of God and the afterlife when you introduce the idea of Soulkiller? But much like in the poem, we don’t get these answers. In fact, we are barely given time to contemplate the question as we fight for survival. A decision must be made, despite not knowing or even having time to dwell on these answers. Similarly Johnny, when presented with these questions in several side quests, refuses to even entertain the question, much like the poem’s narrator.

The rest of the poem, which is not included in Alt’s reading, is full of allusions to the story. The “yellow fog,” which persists across the poem is full of cat-like imagery, conjuring the bakaneko, the spirit of misfortune that can bring people back to life that Takemura mentions (coincidence that V/Johnny can adopt a cat? Keeping death as a close companion? I think not). Prufrock spends the rest of the poem contemplating his question, talking himself in circles, and the only thing that changes is his age as time slips by. Just as he seems to be making progress, he talks himself back to square one and begins again. Much in the same way, Johnny and V go in the same circles. Their journey begins with their deaths, and to death they will both return no matter what. Nothing they did really mattered, the world remains the same, broken and unfair. As Prufrock later contemplates: “Do I dare/ Disturb the universe?…Would it have been worth while/ To have bitten off the matter with a smile,? To have squeezed the universe into a ball?” Johnny loses his life trying to strike against an unjust world, yet he is scarcely a memory to most residents of Night City, who do not have time to contemplate what is right and what is wrong; their focus must be on survival.

Interestingly enough, both the poem and Cyberpunk reference similar secondary materials. Prufrock references Lazarus and Hamlet as he contemplates how he will never lead an exciting existence. Lazarus, much like V/Johnny, famously rose from the dead. Hamlet is a reoccurring theme in the storyline; Prufrock, V/Johnny, and Hamlet all are faced having to inevitably make a very difficult decision, the latter two involving tragedy for all no matter what. It’s also up for debate whether Hamlet is turning mad, similar to how we can’t be sure how much Johnny is driving V “mad” by taking over their mind. Despite this comparison, V/Johnny are no Hamlet/Lazarus. They are Prufrock; their lives, and their deaths, are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Despite their efforts, they will simply fade away until they remain only in the memories of those they left behind. The play is further referenced as Jackie’s grave reads “Goodnight, sweet Prince,” and in a deleted audio file Johnny tells V “Sleep well prince/princess” before taking control if V chooses to attack Arasaka with Rogues help. What makes this more interesting is when you look at the line in which Hamlet is mentioned:

“No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.”

The Fool, which is mentioned several times by Misty, represents V and Johnny, in the journey that is told by the major arcane in tarot. The beginning of a journey — of a cycle — while the Death card symbolizes the ending of one phase and the beginning of another. An often painful transformation into something new. The main theme of Eliot’s poem is cycles; he talks himself in circles, never making a choice, always ending up where he begins. Circles are mentioned once again by Kerry during his personal mission, when he talks about beginning a new cycle in his life. V/Johnny’s journey together begins with death, and so it must end that way for them; whether it is a physical death, or a death of the self. No matter what, V’s fate is inevitable; they will face death again head-on, just as they did at the beginning of their story. The chosen passages of this poem asserts this cycle — the first three words of Alt’s first and last sentence are the same:

“Let us go.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk v #v cyberpunk #arasaka #cp2077 #cp 2077 #cyberpunk2077 #cp project red #v #Alt Cunningham #cyberpunk spoilers #insufferable former English majors unite #please add your own thoughts to this #and thank you for coming to my dissertation defense #my posts #cyberpunk meta #cyberpunk 2077 meta

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myblueeyedbuggers · 3 years

Text

My Boys

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1563

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Side Note: Црни лабуд, according to google translate, means Black Lotus in Serbian.

So erm. Hi guys, first time sharing something on Tumblr, normally I’m the one reading all the fanfics but after reading so many talented people’s work I thought I’d try my hand at it :) hopefully it doesn’t completely suck, any writing tips and feedback is welcome and feel free to give some constructive criticism. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Okay I’ll shut up, Enjoy :)

It’s the same routine day after day, wake up, shower, get dressed and go out to recruit for Damien. The streets of Brooklyn aren’t exactly safe for a girl of 13, but hey this is what happens when a pair of inconsiderate asses sell their only child to one of the most infamous and dangerous gang of criminals for the cheap thrill of getting high. One way or another a girls gotta make a living and the way I do it could land me in jail for the rest of my life, I mean I didn’t exactly picture myself blackmailing and manipulating the poor souls targeted by Црни лабуд, but that’s the shit that happens when you find yourself being shunned by the society that’s supposed to help the weak.

Anyways I was getting close to my target, just two more blocks, through the back alley and up the stairs to the apartment owned by Greg Sampson. That clever son of a gun managed to bypass the security systems of the cities bank and make off with $5,000 and get away with it, and as expected the Црни лабуд want him to be our new “financial adviser” considering our last one double crossed the boss and died cause if it. Turning to corner to enter the alley was a moment, as cheesy as it sounds, I won’t ever forget, a big group of boys were surrounding a lanky and frail lad who by the looks of it had seen better days. His blonde hair was all over the shop and his face looked like it had been ploughed into the front of a bus, blood was coming out his nose and both his top and bottom lip were split open but despite all of that he was laughing and taunting the group.

“What’s the matter guys? Upset that you can’t keep me down?”, okay it’s official this kid has a death wish and I’m pretty sure that if I don’t do something I’m gonna be a witness to a murder, so of course my dumbass walks right into the middle of this “fight”. “So, what the hell is going off here? You boys decided to compensate for your small penises by acting like giant dicks or something?”, I could hear the lad behind me let out a laugh and a small smirk spread across my face as I looked at who I was up against, all the lads were red in the face and looked ready to put me into an early grave but I’d of liked to see them try.

Thanks to the boss I knew basic self-defence and apparently could pack one “hell of a punch” when pissed off, the tallest of the bunch stepped towards me and picked me up by my collar at an attempt to scare me “Who the hell do ya think ya are little girl?! Don’t ya know when to stay outta other people business? Now I gotta mess up that pretty lil face of yours”. It was safe to say whatever he said and did was about as intimidating as a wet kitten and honestly quite funny, hence why I laughed before I punched the prick in his face, not my smartest move cause then I was dropped straight on to my ass. One of the tall pricks mates decided to take advantage of my situation, yelling and cursing at me as he prepared to kick me right in the face ,which wouldn’t of been too pleasant let’s be honest, but right when his foot was about to make contact the blonde lad behind me pulled himself in front of me and took the blow for me, he went flying across the floor and hit the back wall.

Now I was pissed. As the group started to walk past me and advance on the blonde boy, I grabbed the ankle of the closest guy and pulled him down, climbing on top of him and really going in on his stupid face to try and get their attention back on me and off the guy struggling to stand. It’s safe to say it worked, a sudden force to my ribs knocked me off the boy and back onto the floor, and then the fun began…for them at least I wasn’t having as much fun as the collection of shitheads, pain erupted from all over body, one jackass was constant kicking me in the head as the others hit whatever part of me they could reach. It felt like it went on for forever, but, in reality it was only for 30 seconds, before the boys stopped, I could hear the sounds of punches and the whimpers of pain as multiple sets of steps started to run away from me.

I tried to sit up, but those bastards really did a number on my ribs and midsection, the pain making me cry out before crumpling to the floor, faint mummers and a moan of pain could be heard but I didn’t really care about that. Summoning my last bit of strength I pulled myself up, ignoring my bodies screams of protest, the wall becoming my new best friend as I started to limp towards my objective, I managed to get about 10 centimetres away from the alley before a arm wrapped around my waist and held me up.

“Just so you know that was fucking stupid move on your part, next time let me save the punk” ,okay hold the frigging phone who the hell is this and why haven’t I pushed his stupid ass to the floor? quickly I shoved him and “walked” away from him, royally pissed off. “By the time you’d of got here to save him he’d of been 6 feet under by now, so go screw yourself” Perhaps I could have been nicer, but he did start it.

Miraculously I made it to the stairs and began to make my way up them, when once again a hand stopped me and I gotta be honest it’s really starting to piss me off, turning around to give this little bugger a piece of my mind, the words died in my throat as I came face to face with the blonde boy. Bruises littered his face and somehow his face was even bloodier then before, the mark from the kick was printed on his face and guilt immediately flooded my veins, “Ignore my friend, he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut sometimes, anyway I wanted to thank you for stepping in there not a lotta people would be so quick to rush in and have my back. My names Steve, Steve Rodgers and the grumpy old man over there is James Barnes” Steve stuck his hand out as a greeting and offered me what I can assume he meant as a friendly smile, though the split lips did ruin the image. Slowly a smile spread across my face and I shook his hand in greeting, “It was no problem, honestly, besides you had em on the ropes, my names y/n and it’s nice to meet you, though I can’t say the same about your friend over there.”. The boy behind Steve or Bucky scoffed at me and walked off in a huff, not that I cared, simply raising my eyebrows at Steve, mocking his friends attitude he let out a sigh and gave me an apologetic smile in response, “Well I better go after him or he’ll kick up a storm, I’ll see ya around y/n” and with that he smiled a final time and ran off after his friend.

Returning to the task at hand, I let out a small smile at the thought of Steve before frowning, he was a good kid and didn’t need the trouble I brought, it’ll be best if I never see him again. I sighed before climbing up the rest of the stairs and prepared for the next few hours of hell I have to bring to this man, with those final thoughts I brought out my “tools” and got to work.

Okay honestly, I didn’t mean to make the first chapter so long, I wanted to provide the best in sight as to how this series will go, also the character development will be miles better in up-coming chapters. Thanks for reading :)

Rose xx

#bucky barnes x reader #captain america x reader #marvel #fanfic #reader #bucky #bucky barnes #steve #mcu #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america

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closetfanfictionauthor · 3 years

Text

a university au in which genya is a fashion major and david is an engineering student and neither of them are brave enough to admit their feelings to each other but it works out in the end anyway.

(i was working on another story but i just finished re-reading the series and then i binged the show and it was just CALLING to me. this was meant to be like 2k words but it quite got away from me)

this is also on ao3

She meets David when she's looking for a table in the university library to complete a paper on fashion history and he is the only one with an available seat. And because she's Genya and beautiful and unafraid to approach anyone, she asks him if he wouldn't mind sharing the table with her.

David gives her a very distracted yes and she flashes him one of her smiles that's sent men stammering before gracefully sliding into the seat.

What she doesn't know is that a glimpse of her was enough to send David's heart into rapid palpitations and his palms immediately begin to sweat. But he's got to stay focused on his problem set because he fears if he looks at her head-on he might actually have a heart attack right where he sits.

And wouldn't that just be embarrassing.

She expects him to ogle at her like men usually do, but from where she's sitting he looks focused on his own problems, a slight wrinkle in his forehead as he glares at his laptop screen and huffs in irritation. But they sit in silence for three hours and David never looks her way. On the rare occasion he can drag his attention away from his screen long enough to notice she's even there, it feels as if he's looking right through her.

And she should feel relieved. Comfortable. Because he's not doing anything to make her feel uncomfortable. It should be nice.

And she's beyond irritated. Genya can't decide if it's because her ego is really that big that it takes offense to the first man who doesn't notice her or if it's because she finds him so attractive it makes her want to burst out of her skin and he's making it very obvious that he's not interested in her.

She doesn't know which one is worse.

He leaves without a word and she has to sit there and force herself to act like she doesn't notice the vacant seat across from her or why, for some reason, she feels so lonely.

Afterwards, Genya begins to notice David all around campus in ways she didn't before. And every time he's always alone, rarely is he surrounded by anyone she could assume is his friend. David never acknowledges her, never says hi, and she likewise pretends she never sees him.

But one day Genya is studying in the library again. At this point she's developed a sixth sense when it comes to David and the second he steps foot into the library, she knows. Her muscles tense and something in Genya's gut is telling her David is here and to look for him.

She forces herself to relax and shrug it off but only a few moments later, a shadow falls over her and she blinks up in confusion. David stands there, fidgeting from foot to foot, his hands traveling from the hem of his crewneck to his hair to the nape of his neck. He looks so uncomfortable and awkward it's endearing and she's tempted between saving him the anxiety and saying something and letting him stew in the feeling.

"Is it alright if I sit with you. Library's full," he mutters quietly, eyes darting around to the others sitting nearby. Genya forces the corners of her mouth not to twitch upwards like they so desperately want to and calmly nods before turning back to her work. Today she's working on sketching some designs for class.

David shrugs out of his bag and pulls out the chair across from her, all the while avoiding eye contact. Genya looks back at her sketch and picks up another colouring pencil. The whole time she pretends like there isn't an available table three tables over, or another one less than five metres behind David. The library is certainly full but it's not that full.

He could sit somewhere else but he chooses to sit with her and that makes her sit up a little straighter.

After about the second hour of working in silence, David starts to fidget. It's like he's working up the courage to do something but can't quite bring himself to do it. Genya can see him shift in his seat but pretends she doesn't notice. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, slouches in his seat before straightening up again. David opens his textbook, stares at the page blankly and then closes it again and turns back to his laptop.

There's a burning need in Genya to ask what he wants, the question is on the tip of her tongue but something about David tells her if she asks he'll shut down.

Finally David clears his throat and when Genya looks at him, he points to one of her sketches and says in a grave tone usually reserved for imparting condolences, "I really like this one, I'm not one for colours or anything but I like the yellow and brown."

It's the most he's ever said...well...ever.

"Thank you, that one's my favourite too," Genya replies warmly, a smile spreading across her face. In truth it wasn't her favourite creation but it was David's favourite and now it was hers.

She thinks that's all he's going to say and turns back to her drawing but David has mustered all his courage and he seems determined to have out with it and asks her, "What are you making these for?"

"It's for my Fashion Design class. I'm a fashion major," Genya says and blushes a pretty pink at the statement. There's nothing wrong with fashion. People wear clothes. They like looking nice. Genya wants to be a part of that process and yet she can't help feeling silly telling people she studies fashion. But David doesn't look at her as if it's stupid or as if she's dumb, an intent look on his face as he gives her all his attention.

"Do you...do you like fashion design? Is it one of your favourite classes?" he asks her awkwardly. She wants to giggle at the way he looks at her as if she's about to impart the meaning of life to him. But Genya stops herself, because David is making an effort. And she doesn't know this man but she's pieced together enough to know that socializing doesn't come easy to David. Knows enough that underneath that quiet almost stern demeanor his heart is probably pounding from making small talk and she won't be the one to hurt his feelings or discourage his attempt.

She just wishes his shyness didn't make her go soft as pudding inside.

"I love it a lot actually. My favourite aspect is that you get to be creative with whatever you want to design, there's no limit and you don't have to worry that anything will be too outlandish because it's just a sketch and you're not actually wasting any fabric on it. They really push you to your limits on this class, always encouraging us to push the boundaries of style and creativity. It doesn't matter how crazy it is just so we can get used to-" Genya stopped abruptly and feels heat spreading across her face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go on like that."

"Why are you apologizing?" David asks, frowning in his confusion.

"I got carried away, I'm sure you were looking for a shorter answer," Genya replies. She might as well have told him she's been told to shut up by other people before for talking too much about her passion.

"If I didn't want to hear your thoughts, then I wouldn't have asked," David says matter-of-factly. He sits patiently, looking at her expectantly. She blinks at him and then continues, stuttering at first and then becoming more confident as David continues to gaze at her, riveted. He doesn't interrupt her as she gushes about her sketches, her ideas, the specifics of fabrics and stitching, even going so far as to ask follow up questions.

What's her favourite fabric to work with, is there a designer she's particularly fond of, what kind of film she thinks has the best costumes? And the questions go on.

"I don't really know what I wanna do after, maybe work for a designer, maybe go into costume design for Hollywood," Genya says, finally going quiet.

"I think you'd be a great costume designer," David says with all sincerity and gives her a wide smile. And saints, that smile. It completely changes his face and does things to her insides that she can't voice.

"You think?" she asks and immediately wants to kick herself. What was that breathy voice that just came out of her.

"Yeah, some of these are so creative and different, I think it would serve you well on a set," David says as he picks up some of her sketches and looks through the drawings.

"Thank you," Genya replies timidly. She's about to ask about David but he gives her one more smile before turning his attention back to his work, the conversation over. She wants to interrupt him and learn all about him but she doesn't want to interrupt him.

They leave the library at the same time, walking side by side without saying anything. Genya can't stop herself from glancing at him every few seconds from the corner of her eye. David on the other hand looks deep in thought, like he isn't walking next to her at all. She desperately wants to see him again, wants to reach out and touch his hand but she thinks about it so long her nerves get the better of her and never does a thing about it.

"See you next time," David says at the exit, and then turns around and leaves without waiting for a response.

"We...will?" Genya asks the thin hair because David is gone before she has even comprehended what he's said.

She spends the rest of her day in a daze and then the following days afterward she asks herself if the whole incident in the library actually happened. But then she sees David in the hallway and he nods in her direction and she flushes like she's a girl of fifteen all over again. And then he begins to smile in her direction and Genya becomes so flustered she finds herself walking into pillars and water fountains on multiple occasions.

Genya sees David at least a dozen times a day, more than she has ever seen him before. Part of her wonders if he passes by the places that he's figured out she's going to be in most often. The library becomes their meeting spot. Genya spends as much time there as possible in the hopes that David will show up to see her. It comes to the point where her friend starts to complain that they never see her because she's constantly studying.

"Why are you even in the library this often, you're a fashion major," Alina whines one day when Genya announces she's off to the library.

"Fashion majors need to read," Genya replies defensively. She's shoving books into her bag when Alina reaches over and grabs the opening to stop her.

"Of course fashion majors need to read but you spend every waking second in the library, not even the history students are in there that often," Alina points out. "Is there something you're not telling me about?"

"No," Genya replies too quickly and now she sounds even guiltier. Alina has a knowing look in her eyes.

"There is someone, isn't there," Alina pounces, a gleam in her eye. She leans forward, arms crossed on the table between the two friends.

"There isn't anyone, I just really enjoy the...atmosphere," Genya says. The excuse sounds lame even to her own ears but it's the only thing she can say. What else is there to enjoy about the library.

"Genya you're the most outgoing person I know, sitting quietly in a library for hours on end is the very last thing you'd do. I can't even get you to go to a bookstore with me," Alina scoffs. Genya might have been able to get away with her evasiveness if David hadn't passed by at that very moment.

Her face lights up in happiness at the sight of him, a smile overtaking her face before she's even registering her response to him.

David smiles in return and nods his head and says, "Hey," in passing.

"Hi," she quietly breaths back but he's gone before he can hear it. Genya's gaze immediately snaps back to Alina and her friend looks back at her, smug.

"Oh I see," she says, the picture of ease, slouched low in her chair, legs spread out before her. Genya scowls back at her.

"Not a word," she snaps back mortified.

"No, no, what is there to say," Alina replies nonchalantly. "I just never mistook you for someone to go for the whole quiet nerd vibe."

"David is lovely," Genya says defensively.

"I never said he wasn't, I just said he was nerdy."

A beat of silence.

"Do you know anything about him?" Genya finally asks grudgingly.

"I'm the last person you should be asking," Alina says with a snort. "Mal would probably know more though."

"Oh yes, Mal, your little friend, and how is Mal, your friend, doing?" Genya asks, widening her eyes innocently. Alina blanches, her face going white.

"You know what, maybe you should go to the library, go there as often as you want. We're really not that close," she says. Genya lets out a cackle and wiggles her fingers goodbye before setting off.

***

"So why did you pick engineering?" Genya asks him one day. They've finally progressed to getting coffee together instead of sitting in the library all the time. The social setting makes her more comfortable but she can see the way David's shoulders are tense and he shifts in his chair restlessly.

"I like making things with my hands. Seeing a bunch of pieces and putting them together, like a puzzle," he says. "And you know, machines aren't complicated."

Genya blinks at him.

"I mean, they're not complicated in the way that people are complicated," he amends. "I've never really liked big groups of people or parties, they're so noisy, you can't hear anyone, no one can finish a sentence without being interrupted, so I just keep to myself. It's easier that way."

"But don't you get lonely?"

David turns his head towards the sun streaming in and thinks for a moment. Genya can't help but be distracted by the way the sun turns his hair brown or admire the angle of his jaw, or his nose, or his full lips. Especially his lips. What a shame they're not attached to her. Or her neck, moving down towards her ...

David. Talking. Genya blinks rapidly and pushes the thoughts of David's mouth on her neck (among other places) away to focus on what he's saying.

"Not lately. But I like spending time on my own, I don't have to worry about talking all of the time or thinking about something interesting to say. There's no pressure to be entertaining."

And while Genya hears the rest, her mind is stuck on the not lately part. She's pretty sure he means since meeting her but she's too shy to ask even though she knows David wouldn't think it embarrassing.

"And people are always saying things they don't mean," he goes on frowning. "I can never understand how dating is supposed to work. My brothers try to explain it to me but it sounds like a lot of saying what you don't mean and expecting someone to figure out what you're not saying. You can't do certain things because it makes you look needy or too eager, which makes no sense to me because wouldn't you want the person you like to know you like them?"

This is the most he's ever said to Genya she's pretty sure. Her heart leaps at the idea that he's comfortable enough around her to say these things. Her heart leaps at the way his arms looked crossed in front of him the way that they do in that snug shirt.

"That's true, it's one of the nice things about you though," she replies and when he looks at her in confusion she adds, "I can just say what I mean and what I want and you won't think I'm weird for it."

She swears she sees his cheeks turn the barest shade of pink although his brown skin hides it well.

"I think you have class, I'll walk with you," he says, clearing his throat and the two of them leave the shop together. He does that a lot lately, walking her to class that is. Genya has taken to walking him to his. She definitely doesn't stand outside the room watching his butt as he walks away from her.

Neither of them feels the need to comment on anything as they walk side by side towards the arts building.

They're at the door of her classroom, and David is in the middle of saying goodbye, when one of Genya's classmates shoves David's shoulder to get past them. The man looks Genya up and down and shoots her a wink before disappearing into the room.

Genya turns to David about to apologize when she sees the scowl he sends towards her classmate. It's the first time she's ever seen David anything other than neutral and serene and the fact that it's on her behalf makes her giddy.

"Who's that?" David asks. Genya has never been gladder of his earnest manner more than this moment. It's gratifying to hear the note of jealousy because it means she's not the only one at odds and ends in this budding friendship they have. She shouldn't like it but she does. Alina would have her head if she heard such nonsense.

"Oh just some classmate," she says with a shrug. "He does this all the time. He's quite harmless."

At least she thinks, although the man in question is a little too persistent for her tastes but surely he can only mean the flirting as a joke.

"I have to go," David says abruptly and marches off in a determined manner, leaving Genya behind wondering what's just happened.

She hopes he's not mad at her and agonizes over his behaviour the whole class, completely missing the topic at hand. When she eventually leaves, she's so miserably anxious she doesn't know what to do with herself. Genya is about to call Alina and beg her for advice but never gets the chance to decide because David is standing outside the door.

He thrusts a large bouquet of flowers at her before Genya has a chance to say anything and instinctively she reaches out to take them so they don't fall on the ground.

"For you," David says without ceremony. Genya blinks in bewilderment at him and looks between the flowers and his solemn face.

"Ah….thank you, these are beautiful," Genya says. She's sincere about the compliment but her brain is still playing catch up with her and can't quite get past the beautiful flowers and that David got them for her.

"They're red amaryllis," David offers and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "It reminds me of your hair."

She can feel tears gathering in her eyes because this is the sweetest thing anyone has done for her and she's not quite sure what she's done to deserve this man. David notices the watering eyes and his brows furrow in alarm.

"I'm sorry if you don't like them. I didn't mean to make you cry, I'll take them back," he says miserably, reaching for them. Genya moves them out of his reach.

"These are happy tears, don't you dare take these away from me. No take backs," Genya says, clutching the flowers to her chest. David relaxes and sends her one of his disarming smiles.

The gestures continue. David brings her coffee, or snacks. Sometimes he'll even hand over his own food because he sees her looking at it just a little too long in the library. Genya buys him lunch or dinner. She seeks him out in the library if she knows he's been hard at work studying and reminds him to go home. She tells him tidbits and facts that she thinks he might like. She gives him her hat if he says he's cold, and he gives her his gloves because he knows her hands are always cold.

Genya brings him little oddities she finds when she's out shopping, and David gives her books on the collections of famous fashion houses. He invites her over to his house and she bakes cookies with his mom and makes plans for a shopping trip with his sister. David agrees to meet Alina and Mal and immediately he and Mal become the best of friends.

Now when Genya arrives in the library before him, he chooses to sit next to her instead of across the table. Sometimes he throws his arm across the back of her chair casually. Sometimes the hand of that arm will unconsciously trace patterns up and down the side of Genya's arm.

Genya doesn't know how to ask him to go on a date even though they're doing things that couples do, but it seems the universe wants the two of them together even more than she does.

It happens when she's on the way to the library one evening to meet up with David. They're planning on studying together, he needs help with an English paper due in a few days, and Genya wants to spend time with him. The fact that she's not that good at writing English papers is not important.

The sun is starting to set, and she's been trying to shake off the man who shoved into David that one day but he's either not getting the hint or he's choosing to ignore them. She tries to make excuses to leave so they'll go their separate ways, but he conveniently also has nowhere to be. Genya gives curt responses and purposely makes it seem as if she's not paying attention to what he's saying. She gives dry responses to his flirtations in the hopes to deter him. When he stands too close, she very obviously puts space between them.

And now he's following her to the library and Genya is praying he leaves her alone because she's got a sneaking suspicion he's going to wait around until she leaves the library and then follow her home.

Eventually he gets to the point and asks for a date.

"You're very lovely," Genya lies through her teeth. Her smile is more of a grimace at this point. "But I'm not all that interested."

"Come on, just one date," he says, taking a step toward her. Genya takes a step back. His tone is light but she's on her guard and she knows how quickly that good humour can turn sour.

"No thank you," she insists. When he opens his mouth to say something else, she blurts out, "I have a boyfriend, his name is David. I'm on the way to see him at the library."

She doesn't know why she says it, it's the only thing she can think of, the only thing that's always worked in the past a hundred percent of the time. And as if she's summoned him herself, David appears as if from nowhere. Her knight in….well not exactly shining armour but in his favourite crewneck at least.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long, sweetheart," David's voice says. He rounds the corner, his mouth set in a grim line as he stares down the man cornering Genya. The endearment sounds a little stilted coming from him, but the natural way he puts his arm around Genya's waist and leans in to kiss her cheek makes up for it.

She feels the tension leak out of her at the contact. David is here and she's not alone, she's safe and he'll take care of this. She leans into his side, absorbing the warmth coming from him and puts her head on his shoulder.

"Hello darling, I was just picking up dinner for you," she replies as lovingly as possible. She looks up at him like he's her hero (she doesn't even have to pretend) and burrows into his side even more.

"How thoughtful of you," David replies warmly. He leans down and gives her a long, sweet kiss that sends her knees quaking. Her classmate thoroughly forgotten, David steers the two of them away from the man and they continue on to the library. Once they're far enough away, Genya lets out a long sigh.

"Thank the saints you showed up, I didn't know what I was going to do about him," Genya says. David rubs his hand up and down her back as the two of them walk.

"The nerve of him to ask out my girlfriend," David huffs. Genya drags the two of them to a halt and stares at David unblinking.

"Your what?" she asks, thinking she's misheard.

"My girlfriend," David repeats, a little slower this time as if she's hard of hearing.

"Since when am I your girlfriend?" Genya asks because she's fairly certain she would've remembered something that monumental. But no, she's certain he never asked.

"Since I brought you flowers after class?" David asks as if he's beginning to doubt himself. "I mean what have we been doing if not dating?"

"David you never asked me to be your girlfriend," Genya insists. Not that she minds the presumption but there are rules to these things.

"I didn't realize I was supposed to, I thought it was obvious. Of course you're my girlfriend, why else would I bring you home to my mom," David says, head tilted to the side. He's looking at her as if she's recently had a brain injury.

Genya's mouth has dropped open as she processes this new development. She doesn't know whether to whoop in elation or burst into song or start dancing or leap onto David right now and ravish him.

"David, you were supposed to ask," she insists and suddenly the whole ordeal is hilarious. Genya's biting her lip to stop from laughing but her shoulders are starting to shake from holding it in. It's all just so ridiculous.

Here she was agonizing over whether he wanted her and the whole time David already thought they were dating.

"Oh, do you not want to be my girlfriend then?" he asks, worry creeping into his tone. He deflates and the look of dejection on his face makes Genya want to shower him with kisses to make it go away.

"No, that's not what I meant. I- never mind, we're dating, I'm your girlfriend," Genya says with a roll of her eyes.

"But you just said-"

She cuts David off by wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands digging into his hair, and pulls his lips down to hers for a proper kiss.

"Forget what I said, okay," she says breathlessly. "You were right we've definitely been dating this whole time."

"Yes ma'am," he agrees in bewilderment. "You know we should be doing a lot more kissing since we're boyfriend and girlfriend."

Genya can't help but beam at him. "I completely agree. More kissing. Lots more kissing. In fact, I propose we go back to my room and play catch up. We've got a lot of kissing to make up for."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #siege and storm #ruin and rising #fanfiction #genya/david #genya safin/david kostyk #fluff #romance #pining #writing #genya fluff #happy ending

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starrybethany · 4 years

Text

Leon Draisaitl: Glorious by Macklemore

Word count: 3004

Music video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OrLroFa0AI

Lyrics link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSFz3NRSSc4

You know I'm back like I never left

Another sprint, another step

Another day, another breath

I take a deep breath, pushing open the door to the small building that was once my everything. Now, my company is spread across the continent in multiple stores. My heels click softly on the tile that I spent two hours picking out as I step inside the building, watching as everyone slowly turns to see who entered.

“Boss, we heard you were coming back but we just didn’t know when!” Veronica, my old assistant and closest friend here in Edmonton, pulls me into a tight hug.

I’m surprised by the kind greeting. Contact with all of the employees here in Edmonton fell apart except for being FaceBook friends when I opened the headquarters in Miami and started working out of there, so I just assumed they didn’t like me anymore.

And they aren’t the only people that I assumed didn’t want to speak to me anymore.

Been chasing dreams, but I never slept

I got a new attitude and a lease on life

And some peace of mind

“So to recap, we’re moving the headquarters from Miami back to Edmonton, keeping this store open to advertise it as our original location, and we’re opening the branch in Winnipeg to become the seventy sixth branch. Any questions?” I ask, scanning the room before ending the meeting.

The employees converse amongst each other as they exit the room and I stack my papers up, letting out a sigh of confidence. I’m very excited for this new step in my career, and I’m even more excited to be back in my home city of Edmonton.

A loud squeal snaps me out of my thoughts and I look up to see Veronica stepping forward to wrap me up in a large hug.

“You did so good, I’m so proud of you! Wow, you’ve really changed a lot in four years- but in a good way. You just look so happy and confident in what you’re doing now,” she smiles widely, leaning back against the table. “So, is there a boyfriend making you happy too?”

I chuckle. Same old Veronica. “Nope, no boyfriend. I’m too busy for a boyfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure you used that excuse four years ago too and someone convinced you otherwise,” she hints cheekily.

“Get back to work, Veronica.”

Seek and I find I can sleep when I die

Wanna piece of the pie, grab the keys to the ride

And shit I'm straight

“Hey boss, we’re heading out. Do you want us to lock up or anything?” One of my employees asks, sticking his head in my doorway.

“No, it’s fine. Have a good night,” I bid, not looking up from my papers.

“You too. Don’t stay here too late.”

I nod but don’t respond, trying to figure out the numbers in my head.

It’s only four hours later when I realize that it’s one o’clock in the morning and that I should probably leave to get some sleep.

I'm on my wave, I'm on my wave

Get out my wake, I'm running late, what can I say?

Well apparently I needed more sleep than what I got because I slept past my alarm and now I’m running late on my second week back. I need to work out more often because I’m out of breath just from running down the street towards my office. I figured it would be faster than trying to drive through the hecticness of Edmonton traffic.

I’m trying to avoid the deep cracks in the sidewalk and before I know it I’m running into a hard body, about to fall over until an arm reaches out and grabs my own.

“I’m so sorry!” We exclaim at the same time.

I look up at the sound of the familiar voice, eyes bulging when I see it’s the one who was once the love of my life. I watch as Leon drags his eyes up from the concrete. His eyes light up when he recognizes me and I swallow to keep my heart inside of my body.

“Y/N, you’re back.”

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave

And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name

So when I leave here on this earth, did I take more than I gave?

Did I look out for the people or did I do it all for fame?

“Yeah, um, we’re moving back to uh, Edmonton,” I stutter through my words, just like I did when I first met Leon. He made me so nervous back then but he was so patient with me and listened carefully to every word, reassuring my many apologies. I guess he still makes me nervous.

“How is your empire?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

I laugh. He always referred to my company as my empire, knowing the potential that both it and I have. I guess he never considered that the potential would have to cause me to move.

“It’s good, uh,” I smile brightly at the memory of the other day, “I met with a manufacturer the other day and they already knew my name. Like I normally have to introduce myself, you know? But he was just like, “Hey, Y/N Y/L/N, it’s great to see you!” And it’s so cool to think that I have a legacy like that. And then he said that his daughter loved my bracelets so I had to give her the flower one that all of the preteen girls love. He said she would love it.”

I smile at the memory and snap out of my rambling, my eyes shifting back over to Leon’s. He gives me the admiring smile he always gives me when I talk about my business- he used to say it’s because I’m so passionate about it and it makes him even more attracted to me.

And from this smile, I’m assuming it still does.

Legend it's exodus searching for euphoria

Trudging through the mud to find the present, no ignoring us

Got 20,000 deep off in the street like we some warriors

My mama told me never bow your head, woo!

“So, uh, how’s hockey?” I question, trying to get the topic off of me.

“It’s good. Not as good as when you were in the stands,” he shrugs nonchantalty but my heart beats rapidly at the remark.

I can’t help but study him. His hair’s gotten longer since the last time I saw him and I have to hold back my giggle. I always used to beg him to grow his hair out but he would protest- looks like he finally complied as soon as I left. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and my mind flashes back to when he used to hold me in his arms, those eyes staring into my own as we would talk about our hopes and dreams.

God, all I want to do right now is pull him into me by the collar and kiss him.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

My phone vibrates in my hand and we snap out of our little staring contest. I watch as Leon’s eyes snap to the device in distaste and I check to see that it’s Veronica wondering where I am. I send her back a quick text with a sigh and then look up to see Leon already watching me.

I can’t help but blush, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I should probably go,” I state.

“Yeah, you have an empire to run,” he says proudly, stepping to the side and motioning me past him. I smile shyly, moving past him reluctantly. Is this really it? Are we going to reunite just to leave each other so suddenly? “Oh, Y/N.” I turn around, raising my eyebrows in question. “We should go out for dinner sometime. Fully catch up and everything.”

I nod, quietly answering, “I’d like that.”

“Cool, me too. I’ll text you.”

I nod once more, turning around and doing my best not to dance until I turn the corner and I’m out of his sight. I missed Edmonton a lot- I missed my family, my friends, my employees, the city, but the thing, or person, that I missed the most was Leon.

And now I’m getting it all back, but mostly importantly, I’m getting the love of my life back.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

“So your stocks took a sharp dip just before you moved the headquarters to Miami.” I remember that- that was the first and last time I cried in Leon’s arms. I usually hold everything in, I like to leave the stress of work at the office but I just couldn’t that night. I already wasn’t sure if I should be moving or not and that just seemed like a sign.

I can still remember the shock on Leon’s face as I fell into his grip, holding onto his sweater tighter than I’ve ever held on before.

“Why was that?”

I make eye contact with the local manufacturer. It’s very important to me to find work within the community so I can publicize that on my products.

“The stocks went down because it was in the summer when we moved the headquarters. There aren’t a lot of holidays in the summer where jewelry is wanted so our stock always tends to go down in the summer months. We’re currently working on incentives to change that,” I inform him.

And now I'll see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

I'm feeling glorious

We make small chat as we walk out of the conference room towards the lobby of the building. I glance towards Veronica at reception to see a mischievous twinkle in her eye and give her a questioning look but brush her off, returning my attention to the manufacturer.

“And we’re currently working on 100% recycable jewelry-”I cut myself off as soon as I see him. You can always tell when Leon’s in a room.

He’s sitting in one of the chairs, practically looking like a giant in the tiny piece of furniture. He’s playing with his hands and by the time we make eye contact, his eyes are already on me. The sunlight streams into the room through the window behind him, giving him a golden glow.

I clear my throat, ignoring the inquisitive look the manufacturer’s giving me to continue my sentence.

“100% recyclable jewelry that will probably come early next year.”

“That sounds great, my granddaughter loves that sort of stuff,” he responds.

“Yeah? I’ll be sure to send you a bracelet just for her,” I smile politely, bidding him goodbye as he leaves.

Before I can even greet Leon he’s at my side. “Should you just be giving stuff out for free? I don’t think that’s how empires work.”

I can’t help but snort out a laugh at his dorky joke. “What are you doing here, Leon?”

“I texted you yesterday but you didn’t respond.”

“I didn’t?” My eyes widen. I pull out my phone to show that I never pressed ‘send’ on the text I meant to send back.

The hockey player laughs. “Typical.”

I push his shoulder jokingly.

“Come on, I have something to show you,” he urges, grabbing my wrist.

“Hold all of my calls for the rest of the day, Veronica,” I call out as he pulls me out the door.

“You got it!”

The crib looking Victorian (oh yes it is)

You know that we been going in

Since we hopped out that DeLorean (DeLorean, yeah we win)

“Where did you find this house?” I gasp in disbelief, slamming the passenger’s door shut as I gape up at the beautiful house.

“You’re supposed to wait and let me open your door,” he whines, stepping out of the driver’s seat. I follow him up to the house, watching as he opens the front door.

“Look at how beautiful this hardwood is,” I gush, walking slowly throughout the house. He follows me from a few feet back, admiring me as I touch all of the unique features of the house. “Seriously, Leon, where did you find this house?”

“Called a realtor, or two.” Then he lowers his volume to a level he probably thinks I can’t hear, “Or five.” Then he raises it again. “Asked if they knew a good victorian house for sale. And it has to be victorian.”

I laugh at that. He would always make fun of me for how in awe I was at The Addams Family’s house. But I’ve wanted a large Victorian house to raise my kids and dogs in.

“Is it for sale?” I question, looking back at my former lover. He already knows why I’m asking.

“You may have some competition.”

“Oh yeah? I can probably beat them,” I state confidently, crossing my arms.

“I don’t think you can.”

“Yeah? Why not?” I raise my eyebrows.

He gives me a cheeky smile. “Because it’s me.”

En garde, things are just things

They don't make you who you are

Can't pack up a U-Haul and take it with you when you're gone

“Leon!” I whine, stomping my foot like a two year old. “Why would you show me this house if you’ve already wanted to buy it?”

“I have a plan,” he assures me, rushing forward to grab my hands. “You’ve moved back to Edmonton for good, right?”

I nod.

“And obviously there’s still romantic feelings and chemistry between us,” he starts.

I look down at the floor shyly, not knowing where he’s going with this. His fingers lift my chin up to meet his gaze again and he continues. “And the place you’re renting now, it came fully furnished, right?”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“Please, you think Veronica would not drop hints to me while I was waiting on you for twenty minutes?”

“You were waiting for twenty minutes?”

“That’s besides the point,” he avoids my question, “This is the perfect house for us. Four bedrooms, the master bedroom on the main floor so we can get funky while the kids are in bed-”I laugh while he wiggles his eyebrows-”A nice office so that you can work from home if you want to. And have you seen the backyard?” He pulls me over to the kitchen window so we can see the luscious grass. “That’s a backyard made for an ice rink, babe. Come on, move in here with me.”

We posted on the porch, my family's glasses to the stars

My grandma smiling down on me like woo, that boy got bars

Okay, okay, yes I do

I said amen and hallelujah, let me testify too

I watch as he locks the front door, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Just think, baby, the next time you’re going to be here it’s going to be our house. With you and me.”

“You and me,” I repeat softly.

Another morning, a morning, don't let self get in my way

I got my breath, I got my faith and I remember why I came

“Good morning,” I greet, stepping into the office early like I do every morning so Veronica can fill me in on what’s going on during the day. “What’s going on, Veronica?”

“So you’re just going to be filling out forms until nine, then you have a meeting with Mr. Waterson until ten thirty-””Can that be rescheduled?” I request softly. My assistant gives me an odd look but nods. Usually I refuse to be the one rescheduling or cancelling- I think it’s rude, but today I woke up feeling less confident than normal and couldn’t bear to look myself in the mirror.

“You have a meeting with Isabelle at one thirty-”The beautiful, young, talented designer? No way I can handle that today. “Reschedule that one too. I’m going to go start on paperwork, please don’t bother me unless you absolutely need me.”

I avoid eye contact as I make my way to my office, hoping to distract myself with my work.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

“Am I absolutely needed?” I snap, looking up as my office door is opened. My boyfriend closes the door behind him, eyes widening from my harsh tone.

I sigh, looking back down at the paperwork.

He quietly takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, leaning forward and waiting for me to say something. It’s always pissed me off yet left me in awe at how well he knows me- he knows that if he confronts me I’ll immediately get defensive. He just needs to wait for me to put my guard down more.

And he gets it when I lean back in my chair, meeting his eyes.

“Do you want to explain why I got a call from your assistant saying that you’re in a mood today?” He questions softly.

“Because she’s a snitch?”

He laughs at that but leans back in the chair, giving me a look to talk.

I look down at my desk, murmuring, “It’s just a low confidence day, I guess.”

My eyes move back up in surprise to see him pointing an accusing finger at me. “You stop being mean to my girlfriend right now!”

“Leon, what are you doing?” I giggle.

“I’m serious, if you keep telling her that she’s not beautiful and smart I will not hesitate to fuck you up!”

I laugh at that, laughing even harder when he tugs me up and out of my chair. “Now you say it with me ‘I was born to be a boss ass bitch.’”

“Leon-””Say it with me!”

“I was born to be a boss ass bitch!” We scream together.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

“You created a company from the bottom, you sell bracelets and necklaces and earrings- and hell, 100% recyclable jewelry,” Leon claps like I just found the cure to cancer. “A beautiful woman who cares about the environment. You shouldn’t be here, you should be-”He grabs me by the waist, placing me gently on my desk.

“What are you doing, Leon?” I squeal.

“Stand up,” he urges.

I stand up and for the first time ever, I’m taller than him.

“You should be up there! Look at you, a magnificent woman on the pedestal that she deserves.”

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

“Do you feel better now?” My boyfriend asks once I’m safely off the desk and in his arms.

I nod, pulling him closer to me. “Thank you, Leon. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“That’s a lie,” he scoffs.

I gasp, pulling back to hit his shoulder gently. “Why would you say that?”

“You left me for several months,” he exclaims.

“But I was thinking of you the whole time,” I confess. He smiles softly, leaning in to place his lips on mine. They move against each other, a comfort that we didn’t know we needed until now.

We're planting a flag they don't understand

The world is up for grabs

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

We're planting a flag they don't understand

“My businesswoman, look at you,” Leon wolf-whistles from bed as I step out of the walk-in-closet in our beautiful, Victorian house. I roll my eyes but smile, buttoning up my blazer.

“I’ll be at your game tonight,” I remind him, leaning over to kiss his lips.

“Are we what they call a power couple?” He questions.

“I guess we are, Leon. I guess we are.”

The world is up for grabs

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I’ll never get used to seeing Leon’s games, and I think he’ll never get used to seeing me in my natural element designing or being in meetings. We support each other unconditionally, because that’s what good partners do.

And the love we share is undeniable and nothing like I’ve ever felt before. If this is how we are now, I wonder what we’re going to be like in a few years with more goals, more sales, and a couple of cute kids.

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

He scores a goal for me that night. And I save a recyclable bracelet for him.

#Leon draisaitl imagine #Edmonton oilers imagine #NHL imagines #Leon draisaitl x reader #Leon draisaitl one shot

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jazzytriestowrite · 4 years

Text

I hate you, I love you

Brief Summery: Keigo sits down with his therapist John to figure out what's wrong with him and why he is the way he is. He tells him the story of how he fell in love and then how it caught flames

Parings: Dabi x Hawks

Warning: Angst, mention of violence, cursing, a lot of crying, and a whole lot of feels. Light fluff as well.

Word count: 4,005

A/N: Honestly, I’ve been feeling really sad all of a sudden and then this idea came to mind. So I wrote and finished this around 12 am bawling to sad songs telling myself it’s okay. Hawks x Dabi is a wonderful ship, but me being me wanted to write angst because I could. This is only my second fic, and I know there will be mistakes. I accept criticism and I hope everyone enjoys. I have to start from somewhere, but I'll reach the top soon don’t worry.

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

‘’Wait? Are you here for relationship advice?’’ The black haired male asked, his head tilting to the side as he tried to grasp the meaning behind the words he just heard. Shifting in his seat slightly, he placed his notebook down in his lap and gave a soft smile to prompt the other male to continue speaking.

Hawk’s golden eyes were looking everywhere BUT the therapist in front of him. ‘’Yes… Well no.. you see’’ With a frustrated sigh, Hawk closed his mouth and slumped back in his seat. ‘’It’s a really long story John’’

John hummed in understanding, ‘’Why don’t we just start from the beginning? I’ll listen to anything you tell me, no matter how long it is, and then i’ll help you from there. Does that sound like a plan?’’

With a grin, Hawks shifted in his seat to get comfortable. ‘’Grab some snacks, this is a long tale.’’ Waiting until he got comfortable, Hawk’s took a deep breath.

‘’It all started when….’’

—

‘’ So i’m going to be some cool double agent like in the movies’’

Gran Torino shook his head, ‘’Hawk’s, this mission will be dangerous. You will need to keep up a strong facade, or this will all go down the drain.’’ The short male was leaning against a wall, his shoulders sagging with tiredness. The league of villains were really putting a strain on him.

‘’Yeah, yeah, I understand.’’ Hawk nodded, giving said male the side eye. ‘’I’ll be a hero and a villian. Oh how the tables have turned’’ He laughed at his own joke, laughing even harder when Gran Torino only stared at him with a blank face.

Pushing himself off the wall, Torino began to walk away. ‘’We’re counting on you Hawk’s….. Be careful’’

—

When Hawk’s paused in his story, John was quick to interrupt. ‘’Are you allowed to be telling me these things?’’ He questioned, leaning in like he was getting the greatest tea ever. Which was.

‘’Yes, the mission is already over… so that doesn’t matter anymore’’ Hawk said softly, ‘’and don’t we have confidentiality, so it doesn’t really matter if I tell you. You can’t tell anyone anyways’’ Hawk waved his hands in the air, letting out a soft breath.

John nodded, ‘’Okay continue, you had a mission to become a double agent.’’

Hawk’s looked down at his lap, a soft smile spreading across his face. ‘’And then that’s when I met the love of my life. We knew it wouldn’t work out, but we continued anyways.’’ He laughed at himself, how stupid could he be.

‘’We started off as really good friends..’’

—

‘’Don’t speak another word to me you canibal’’ The blue eyed male put his hands up in warning fire erupting from his fingertips. The grin on his face however, showed that he didn’t actually mean any harm

Placing his hand on his chest, Hawks fake gasped and wiped away a stray tear. ‘’Chicken is good! At least I don’t look like a burnt piece of toast!’’ Hawks responded back, sticking out his tongue.

And for the next 10 minutes, Dabi chased around Hawk’s threatening to end his whole career. But it was such playful banter, that Hawk’s didn’t even mind being there. If laughs were going to be shared, then he would enjoy this experience until it was over.

The slap echoed throughout the tiny enclosed room, causing Hawk’s to step back in shock. Taking back his now bruised hand, he scoffed. ‘’I can guess what you’re going to say now. You don’t need anyone to worry about you? That you are just fine’’

‘’Fuck off, I don’t need you or anyone pretending that they care.’’ Dabi rolled his eyes, turning his back to the winged man. ‘’Take that somewhere else, far away from me’’ His hand grabbed the doorknob, ready to leave and not turn back.

Instantly, Hawk grabbed Dabi’s arm, yanking him away from the door. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ He gripped his arm tightly, his golden eyes narrowed. ‘’Don’t pretend you’re in this alone.’’ Stop. What are you doing? He’s the enemy.. Just let him go, you don’t need to prove anything to him. Stop….

‘’We can’t do that shit here dove, if anything I'll let you get away with calling me names, or even hitting me. But we don’t hide our feelings and push people away’’ Hawk stared at the tiled floor, his eyes closed tightly. ‘’We’re friends right? Well friends have each others backs, through thick and thin’’

Dabi stood still, his back still turned to Hawk’s. ‘’Don’t get sappy on me chicken little’’ he mumbled softly looking over his shoulder with a small grin, a stray tear falling down his cheek. ‘’Just know, once we become friends, we can never go back. I’d kill you instead of letting you go’’

‘’Yeah sure burnt toast’’ Hawk said, his golden eyes looking up to meet Dabi’s blue ones. ‘’Friends to the end huh? You can’t take that back now, no matter how annoying I get’’ Hawk’s then let go of said males arm, taking a step back to give him a little space.

Dabi scoffed, ‘’I’m already annoyed’’ He turned back to the door and sighed, ‘’come on, lets go get some drinks chicken little’’

Bang.

‘’What the fuck do you-’’ Dabi didn’t even give the male the chance to greet him, instead he pushed through the door and walked in like he owned the place. When his eyes caught sight of the couch, he immediately sat down, placing his feet on the table in front of it. Turning his head a bit, he caught Hawk’s shocked eyes. ‘’Don’t just stand there dummy, get your guest some food. I’m starving. I was thinking maybe some Thai’’

Hawk’s stood by the door blinking like an idiot. ‘’You… you are something else’’ Shutting the door, he walked across his home. ‘’You’re just coming here to eat all my food fatass’’ He plopped himself right next to Dabi, grabbing the remote off the table while also pushing said males feet off the table.

‘’Nevermind, you should order some Soba’’

Hawk’s shook his head with a grin, ‘’is this what I signed up for when I said I’d be your best friend?’’ He slipped his phone out his pocket, ready to call the nearest place that maybe sold Soba.

‘’You’re a hero, you probably make bank. So I'm going to make your pockets hurt while it lasts,’’ Dabi comments, rolling his eyes as he snatched the remote out of Hawk’s hand.

—

John hummed, nodding his head when Hawk’s stopped talking. ‘’Ah, so I can see how things can go wrong’’ The male had several thoughts on how this whole thing could have ended, and most of them ended in either heartbreak and despair, or Hawk’s getting into deep trouble with his agency.

‘’That isn’t the part where everything goes wrong’’ Hawk explains, ‘’I was fine with being his friend, it was kinda comforting in a real way. I still knew he was… a villain’’’ He spoke the last line softly, gripping the chair tightly in his grasp. ‘’Everything went wrong because of me. I was the one that compromised the whole mission…’’

It was his fault and he knew it. He couldn’t place the blame on anyone but himself, and he’d take this guilt and the blame to the grave with him. If he had just continued the mission as planned, things would be fine.

‘’Anyways, things were fine as friends. But I was stupid, I wanted more then that. I wanted him… as a lover’’

—

It was a nice night, several clouds were in the sky, and multiple clouds just chilling in the background.

‘’Sometimes, I come up here and I’ll throw rocks down and watch as it hits someone below’’ The familiar voice of Dabi was carried by the wind, softly reaching Hawk’s unsuspecting ears. They both stared down at the humans who were just walking down below, not minding the two villains who stood above them on top of a building.

Hawk’s only turned to look at the scarred man, mouth hanging open as he tried to stop himself from laughing. ‘’Oh my god Dabi! You really give no fucks huh?’’ Hawk’s had to admit, that was a little funny, although that did mean people got hurt in the end. Unsuspecting victims for someone else's pleasure.

‘’Hey Keigo’’ said male turned and looked towards Dabi, a look of confusion on his face. Dabi had never called him by his real name, and he didn’t even remember telling him it. It confused him, but he felt his heart flutter when he said his name. A weird reaction, and he couldn’t explain it.

Dabi turned to face Hawks, and for the first time, Hawks felt like he was truly looking at him. Dabi was a nice looking man, and no one could tell him otherwise. He was a tall lean male with black messy hair that slightly resembled spikes. He had purple scarred skin that covered huge parts of his body, and even his face as well. He also had staples and piercings randomly covering his body that made him look tough and...hot?

Noticing that he was staring, and that Dabi had gone quiet, he looked up to meet the males eyes. Dabi’s eyes burned a bright intense baby blue, that stared deep into Hawk’s soul. Such eye contact almost made him step back, it being too much for him. It wasn’t helping that Dabi’s features were being illuminated by the moon's bright light. Or how the wind blew slightly, causing Dabi’s hair to sway back and forth.

‘’I’m just going to be honest about this, since I’m not one to just play the guessing game’’ Dabi took slow strides towards the winged man, his eyes never leaving his. ‘’Do you like me? Not as friends, but more like romantically?’’ When he finished his statement, he was chest to chest with Hawks, his blue eyes staring down into his eyes.

Hawk’s froze. He felt as if his words were caught in his throat, that he didn’t know how to answer, or if he should. What snapped him out of it was that he could feel how fast Dabi’s heart was also going. That he actually meant what he was saying. ‘’I-’’

Was he allowed to feel this way towards a villian? Was he allowed to like a villain? This could compromise the mission. He was a hero and Dabi was a villain. It would only end in tears and heartbreak, with Dabi in jail and Hawk crying over someone he used to know. Was he willing to take the risk and actually like Dabi? Were his feelings even valid?

In this mist of his panic, a sudden thought hit him. He’s never liked someone like this, never...vibed with another human being like this. Hawk’s in no way was ever fake around him, and Dabi accepted him as him. All the annoying and ugly parts of him, and even the kinder and softer sides of him. He had never regretted hanging out with him, and never hated the male.

Deciding to act before he changed his mind, Hawks lifted his head up slightly, meeting the eyes of Dabi’s once more. Heart pounding in his chest, he leaned in slowly, still giving Dabi the chance to step away if he wanted to.

Then slowly, their lips met. It would be cliche to say that Hawk’s felt sparks within his body, but that was the truth. He brought his hands up to Dabi’s chest, lightly gripping his shirt as the two kissed.

Pulling away, Dabi grinned like he won the lottery. ‘’You can’t go back now chicken little, i’ll kill anyone who tries to get in our way.’’

—

Hawk’s smiled at the memory, his hand softly clenching his chest. ‘’I fell in love with a villian. How cliche of me huh’’ He said softly as he shivered. ‘’I guess you can tell how things went wrong’’

‘’Is this what you need advice on?’’ John asked, picking up his notebook again, thinking this was the end. Which would be way simpler to fix and talk about then what he was expecting. Said male probably broke up with him once he became a hero, that much seemed apparent.

But he was wrong.

Hawks grinned, ‘’No that isn’t the end doc’’ That statement wouldn’t have moved John so much if he didn’t see the tears that slipped down the winged man's cheeks. Hawk’s was crying with the biggest smile on his face. It almost scared John, but he had seen the worst.

‘’Everything went wrong that day… I knew we couldn’t be together forever, but I didn’t expect it to come so soon’’

—

Silence.

That’s all that followed after Dabi’s words, and honestly, Hawks didn't even know if he had it in him to utter anything. He just stood there frozen, trying to see if this was some cruel joke, or maybe a nightmare. It had to be, because the words Dabi spoke were words he never wanted to hear.

‘’You wanna go all quiet now huh?’’ Dabi’s kind eyes were now gone, and all that could be seen was hate. A look Hawks wasn’t used to seeing… a look he had never gotten from his lover. It had shocked him so much he took several steps back, keeping his hands up and shaking him.

Dabi scoffed, ‘’silence huh? Guess that confirms it’’ He then started laughing, but not the joking around kind of laugh. His laugh held a dark aura to it, and he didn’t seem like he was joking. ‘’You aren’t even gonna argue with me? Tell me that i’m wrong, that i’m just stupid! Like i didn’t just spend all my love and effort on some hero plotting to take me down?’’The scarred male sneered, his body shaking with rage.

‘’What's wrong with you? All those nights meant something then? All those times you said you’d stick by my side? The ‘I love you’s’? Fuck, you are a sick bastard, you know that right?’’ Dabi bawled his hands together, his chest rising and falling at such a fast rate.

‘’How could you lead me on like that? I thought… I thought what we had was real Keigo.’’ When he uttered his name, it was spoken as a broken whisper. Dabi’s eyes were casted towards the concrete, not even meeting his eyes anymore.

Hawks, still frozen in place, decided to open his mouth, to somehow fix the mistake he got himself into. ‘’Dabi.. I still love you-’’ yet his words only seemed to anger the male anymore, and he would have done better keeping his mouth shut.

Dabi began laughing, his right hand coming up to grab the place above his heart. ‘’You still speak of love?’’ He yelled out, his laughing turning into small sobs. ‘’How dare you… HOW DARE YOU EVEN’’ he stopped himself mid sentence, clutching his heart as if it was in pain.

‘’I can’t believe I let you inside. I’ve learned a very valuable lesson today, thank you. But don’t you dare think you will walk away from this alive after making a fool out of me’’ Dabi sneered, the tears still streaming down his face at an alarming rate.

‘’You’ll regret this. I won’t kill you, but i’ll make sure you forever rememver to never fuck with me again.’’

Hawks could only stand there, the tears that ran down his cheeks did no justice to how he was feeling. He didn’t even have enough time to react, as all he saw with his golden orbs was blue flames.

‘’Hawks come on, open your eyes hun’’

Hawk’s golden eyes opened to the sound of his name, and he was suddenly hit with a blinding light, and multiple sounds hitting his ears. Coughing, he sat up fast and tried looking around at his surroundings. A hospital room? When did he?..

‘’Hey, how are you feeling?’’

Turning his head, his eyes met a nurse in bright yellow scrubs. Instead of answering her he looked down towards the bed, his eyes looking at his foot which was casted up, probably broken. Moving his hands, he realized that one wrist was broken, and the other just had a slight dull pain to it. It seemed like he didn’t take too much damage, and he was okay with that.

‘’What happened-’’ A sharp pain from two parts in his back caused Hawks to stop speaking, and he instead doubled over in pain and groaned. As he gripped his thighs, he finally noticed. Sitting up quickly, he looked over his shoulders and tried to flex his wings… instead he was met with nothing.

Nothing was there.

‘’Hawks, please calm down, I can see how this can be scary’’

Hawks went silent as everything started to rush back in his mind. Glancing back once more to assure he wasn’t just being crazy, his eyes went wide. The next actions happened slowly, painfully slow. He felt the build up of his scream, the rush of the tears and even the start of his body start to shake.

He had never felt so empty

—

John, in all of his time being a therapist had one rule. To not respond badly towards any stories told by his patients, to always keep his cool. But when Hawks finished his story, John stared at him in horror. His eyes then flicked towards where Hawks said wings would be. And they were indeed gone. What he didn’t understand though, was why Hawks was so calm while telling this.

‘’Aw doc, don’t look at me like that’’ Hawks said, waving his hand,his head hanging low as he frowned. ‘’There was always a risk with doing my job.’’

‘’What I don’t understand is’’ John paused and regained his posture, he couldn’t let what he heard affect him. ‘’Earlier you said you were here for relationship advice? Are you still with this person?’’ He tried to not let his voice convey the emotions he was feeling. ‘’What are you really here for?’’

And for the first time, John watched as Hawks broke down in front of him. It was a weird sight to see such a happy male… bawling his eyes out like a baby.

Hawks could no longer hold it together, and his body started to shake as he sobbed. ‘’I want you to tell me’’ He paused, choking out a sob as his fingers gripped where his heart would be. ‘’Tell me why I still love him’’

John’s eyes went wide, and for a moment he questioned his sanity. Maybe a good mental hospital would do for this male.

‘’TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME’’

‘’TELL ME WHY I STILL LOVE HIM’’

‘’TELL ME WHY.. TELL ME WHY I HATE HIM SO MUCH BUT LOVE HIM AT THE SAME TIME’’

—

Hawks lightly held the scarred flesh in his hand, his golden eyes tenderly looking into his lovers. ‘’I love you so much dove, and you don’t need to hide your feelings from me.’’ He said softly, kissing the males nose.

‘’I love you so much, I love all of you.’’

He then proceeded to kiss his forehead, and then his cheeks, and then his nose again. ‘’You are the hottest man I've ever met, literally. Your opinions and fears of me leaving you for someone hotter is impossible. How could I leave you for another you if you're the only you that exists'’ He stared tenderly in Dabi’s eyes, ‘’I’ll always love you ok? Now no more of this hate, it’s time to love yourself.’’

Dabi couldn’t even utter any words, he was just frozen in Hawks arms. He had never felt so much love in his life, and he didn’t know if he wanted to run or succumb to the feeling.

‘’We’re in this together? I’ll never stop loving you’’

‘AHH DABI I’M SORRY I SWEAR! TOGA PLEASE HELP ME’’ Hawks screamed as he jumped over the couch, and then hid his body behind Toga’s small one. ‘’Tell him to go away, he’s trying to hurt me’’

Toga looked at Hawks and then the anger that seeped out of Dabi’s eyes. ‘’What did you.. What did you do?’’

Before Hawks could answer ‘’Nothing’’ Dabi opened his mouth and spilled everything that had happened. ‘’He ate my fucking food. We might be dating but that was MY food. I even wrote my name on it’’ He yelled, blue flames erupting from his left hand.

Hawks stuck out his tongue, ‘’Aw, is the baby throwing a fit because I ate his food? Maybe it's time for a nap huh?’’ His comment was met with a pillow soaring at his face. He didn’t even have time to avoid it, and ended up falling on his ass. ‘’Ouch’’

‘’Oh you wanna talk all big now huh chicken little. We’ll see who's crying uncle by the end of this’’ Dabi said with a grin as he loomed over Hawks body with a pillow.

‘’Dabi… you won’t leave me right?’’

Dabi scoffed, and was ready to tell Hawks to shut up and get out his face, but upon seeing his face he paused. He saw how Hawk's eyes held some type of hurt that he could understand. Like the love that was given to him would be taken away like everything else.

Sighing, Dabi took long strides towards Hawks, and grabbed his hips as he pulled him flush against his body. ‘’Listen babe, I promise I won't leave you okay? We’re in this together. I’d kill anyone for you. Now does that sound like I’d ever let you leave me? I’d rather eat shit and die then ever lose you’’ This was the most sincere the male had ever been, since it did come from his heart.

‘’I love you Keigo, and nothing can change that’’

—

Hawks had now transferred to the floor, his head hung low as he barely finished telling his part of the story. There was now a wet spot on the carpet from his constant crying. ‘’I-’’ he choked on his words as he began crying again, clutching his chest once more.

He knew loving Dabi would go wrong. Stories like there's never ended the way they wanted. It always ended in heartbreak, but he was willing to enjoy the ride while it lasted.

Glancing up at John, he clutched his heart even tighter. ‘’Please.. Tell me what's wrong with me’’ He sobbed out, his body rocking back and forth as he himself tried answering his own question.

‘’I can never forgive him for what he's taken away from me’’ The dull ache in his back reminded him everyday of the beautiful red wings that used to be there, the wings he loved and hated. He could never fly again, he could never just escape. Instead he felt trapped. Trapped with nowhere to go. He was free falling and he had just hit the ground.

John took a deep breath, ‘’What you're asking is normal. You went through a traumatic experience with someone you truly cared about’’ He picked up the tissue box next to him, ‘’Your feelings are valid, and don-’’

‘’YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND’’ Hawks screamed, his arms now wrapped around his body as if to calm him down. His breathing was fast, and if he continued he’d probably pass out before he even finished talking. Going silent for a second, he calmed himself down. His sobs turned to soft hiccups, and the pain in his chest dulled slightly. He was now ready to talk.

‘’I don’t know what's wrong with me’’ He said in a much calmer voice, tears hitting his skin. ‘’Even though he hurt me… took the best feature I had away from me.. My only escape..’’ He paused his talking, looking up to stare at John with the biggest smile on his face.

‘’I would do it all over again.. If that meant I could be with him for a little while longer’’

#bnha writing blog #bnha imagines #bnha angst #dabihawks #dabi #hawks #dabi x keigo #angst #mha

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hqprotectionsquad · 4 years

Text

𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 - 𝒚𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒌𝒂

⤷ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒚𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓? ⤷ 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒙𝒎𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒏'𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 ⤷ 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

word count: 3709

submission for @haikyuuwriters‘s may event - Mothers’ Day — write about Mothers’ Day. Meeting an s/o’s mother for the first time? Visiting a grave and paying respects? Fluffy moments for a couple with kids? Or is your pairing considering kids?

“Can you let me in, Hitoka?” Tsukishima’s voice is muffled through the wood and Yachi rushes to turn the handle and fling the door open. In comes a man who hauls in paper bags in his arms with his glasses on the brink of sliding off of his nose. Before she has a chance to think, Yachi pushes up his glasses and Tsukishima scrunches his nose at her action.

“What did you bring?” Yachi leans on Tsukishima to try to see what is in the brown bags he carries. It’s Thursday evening, which means after Tsukishima’s shift at the museum, he picks up groceries at the market and dinner for the two of them. “How much can I pay you for the dinner?” She asks as he begins filling the refrigerator with vegetables and fruits. Yachi stands on the outside of the fridge, where photos are suspended by magnets. One features the Karasuno boys’ volleyball team at Nationals, another has Yachi’s selfie with Tsukishima. There are also usually lists of items needed, and the papers are replenished every Monday and Thursday, when they take the list with them and buy groceries for the apartment.

“You don’t even know what I’ve bought for dinner.” Tsukishima side-eyes Yachi as he continues, “For all you know, I could’ve brought leftovers from the dumpster and you would still pay me beforehand.”

Yachi’s mouth gapes at his accusation, but she quickly composes herself. “You’re not wrong,” she says with a pout. Yachi fiddles with her phone while Tsukishima finishes unpacking the products from the bag. Now, the fridge looks happy to be full again.

Tsukishima sets the table pressed against the wall with plates and cutlery. It’s a small table, like the rest of their furniture. They both live humble lives, so why not live together? It’s not like they each take up a grand piece of space and the apartment they live in is snug enough to fit their belongings. He’s about to tell her that he bought curry and even splurged on two slices of strawberry shortcake when he passed by a bakery on his way home, but she’s already preoccupied with a call of some sorts.

“Hello?” Yachi speaks into the receiver softer than usual. She doesn’t want to attract attention, so she sinks into the edge of her bed, with her door slightly open, but she’s sure Tsukishima will end up seeing her anyhow.

“Hitoka, hi. It’s your mother. Are you free on Sunday?” Yachi barely mutters a word out before her mom continues with her steamrolling agenda. Yachi is one-hundred percent sure that her mother is calling her between clients, acting as if Yachi should be thankful that her mom reached out to her. “Great, let’s have lunch together. Sounds good?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” As quick as her mother calls her, she is just as quick to leave. Yachi is used to this, or rather she should be used to it by now. She wasn’t the most doted on as a child. Then, Yachi grew older and only saw her mother in the mornings, dashing out the door with a piece of bread in her mouth. Sometimes, Yachi would stay up much past her bedtime, with her sheets balled up in her fists by her eyes, and the light in the kitchen would spread into her bedroom by the crack by the door. Yachi would hear her mother slurping on instant noodles at two in the morning and her mother would be up again four hours later, but all without a single word exchanged between the two. By the time she applied to universities, Yachi only told her mom her final choice instead of the eight schools where she competed for a spot in their marketing department.

Isn’t it sad?

“Is everything alright?” Tsukishima enters her room with barely a warning. His footsteps are soft, but his presence is known when Yachi turns her head to see him.

With a breath in and out, she replies, “Not really, but I wish it was.”

Tsukishima has gotten far since high school. Yachi believes that she might have had something to do with his attitude change, but she knows that college has also brought him out of his shell. When they first moved in together as roommates, Yachi needed to yank his feelings out of him whenever Tsukishima would brood in his room for a weekend-straight. Now, Tsukishima will approach Yachi at times.

“Let’s eat dinner. Maybe you can get your mind off it after eating.” After he crosses the room in two steps to get to Yachi, he nudges her to get out of her room and into the kitchen.

Tsukishima serves her, not asking a single question until she mumbles through her rice, “My mom asked me to come meet her on Sunday. Of all days, Mother’s day.”

“Huh.” He says in reply, not really knowing what else to say.

“She’s barely been a mother to me. I don’t know why she comes now that I’m out of university and have a stable job that she wants to meet me.” Yachi sets down her utensils to thread her fingers through her hair with a roll of her eyes. She’s grown a tougher skin in this city she’s lived in since the start of her adulthood. “I really don’t want to be alone with her.” She pauses for a moment, letting her mind reel. Yachi’s eyes open wide all of a sudden and Tsukishima is afraid that her eyeballs will pop out. “What if you came with me to my mother’s lunch, Kei? Are you doing anything on Sunday?”

“Well, considering my family lives three hours away, not exactly.” Tsukishima shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.” While he has gone out with Yachi multiple times, he’s never been used as a plus-one and in this situation, he has no idea what he’ll be introduced as.

The week progresses much quicker than they both could have imagined.

“Are you sure this is okay, Kei? I don’t want you to come if you’ll be uncomfortable with me and my mom,” Yachi says, looking up at him. She’s wearing a black dress, tight on top but flares out at the knees. If she saw herself on the street, she would think she’s dressed up for a funeral. Tsukishima is indubitably brighter for once, but only in comparison, as he dons a polo shirt that matches the color of the clear sky.

“If it wasn’t okay, then I wouldn’t be standing next to you on the train,” he mutters as he holds her tight against his skin. It’s something he’s used to doing whenever they are on the same train together. He doesn’t remember when it started, but he does remember why. Something to do with creepy men and Tsukishima offhandedly offering he’d hold her, and Yachi praising him for a brilliant idea. Now, they’re like this. He doesn’t mind because he’s a placeholder, an intermittent person to step in before Yachi has a person to do that for her.

Well, at least that’s what he believed when they moved in together their first year of college to save money on rent, but they’ve never moved out to this day.

Their stop arrives and everyone from businessmen to children get off and move onto the just as crowded platform. Somehow, despite the busyness, everyone knows where to go and when to shift in this march of the morning. Each step in this district is made of surreal dreams that formed out of thin air. Maybe in middle school, Yachi would be so excited to see this happen one day, but now that this day has come, her stomach wrings into tight knots.

Tsukishima sees the look on her face, something he’s seen often, caused by miniscule and large things. Without exaggeration, he could say her face is showing off green tones. Suppressing the want to sigh, he scoops her hand into his and leads them towards the station’s exit.

“Have you been to this station before, Tsukishima?” Yachi rattles off as they walk out of the sliding doors and into the next city. She continues to say whatever’s on her mind or maybe these are words to say to distract her mind.

“Hitoka, you never said where you’re meeting your mom.” Tsukishima grits his teeth as he manages to weave between the sidewalk traffic, looking down to spare his eyes from ticked off passersby. They must think they’re foreigners by the looks of their hair. “We kind of need to know so we can get to the right place.” Tsukishima pulls Yachi to the side of a building, taking refuge by this wall. He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in after he glances at their still interlaced fingers. She doesn’t even bother to unlatch, that’s how nervous she is, Tsukishima thinks to himself.

“Right! Let me check my phone.” Yachi smiles up at Tsukishima and then her eyes drag down to where her bag bounces against her hip. “Huh?!” Her hand rips out of his loose grasp. Is she that mindless that she hadn’t realized Tsukishima’s hand was touching hers. With a crimson sweep across her face, she scans the short thread of text messages exchanged between her and her mother. “It seems like we should be heading three blocks in that direction,” Yachi says after a pause. She toys with the star charms that hang from her phone with one hand and with the other, she points in the direction of the station and onward.

“So we’ve walked three blocks, just to walk double that,” Tsukishima drawls.

“I’m sorry!” She doesn’t need to look at him to see the word disappointment written all over. “We’ll be alright, my mom’s not expecting us for another half hour,” she mumbles after feeling under the pressure of his gaze.

“Let’s just get going.” Tsukishima motions for them to join the sea of people on their way back to the office after a lunch and tourists exploring the city at this random time of day. “Come on, hold my hand so you don’t get lost.” His intentions are self-indulgent, but he presents as a protective friend, which is all that matters.

Yachi reluctantly allows it and they assimilate with Tsukishima leading. She just sees his back as they move one-by-one in this mass of bodies and she’s never been more thankful for him than in this very moment. Soon enough, they stand in front of the restaurant her mother wanted to meet up at. Unfortunately, Yachi never mentioned that the restaurant they’ll be dining at puts Tsukishima at a risk of being kicked out.

“Is this going to be alright to go inside?” Tsukishima pulls at his short sleeved shirt, but before he can continue, Yachi’s already tugging at the metal beam to open the door. She looks ridiculously small, with her fingers just barely grazing each other around the grip. He reaches over her head and pulls on the handle as well. “Well, ladies first,” he says.

“Thank you!” Her voice switches into a more professional tone as she begins conversing with the hostess of the restaurant. Despite her size and her anxieties, she’s great at stepping up when she needs to.

When she makes it back to Tsukishima, who is nestled in a chair in the corner, she tells him that the hostess will come get them when they have everything ready with the room. “My mom’s already there.” She sits on the armrest of his chair, her body fitting the edge of it precisely. She brushes the fabric of her skirt downward with a careful hand.

“You’ll be okay.” Tsukishima doesn’t know what to do or what to say. He’s never seen her this thrown off. Even during their high school years, seeing her deal with his teammates seems like a cake walk at this point. He’s never felt so weighted with the truth that isn’t even his own.

“I haven’t seen my mom in person in nearly five years. We’ve called on the phone, but it feels so transactional. She only calls when she feels like I could benefit her in some way. I don’t even know how she is on a personal basis. I don't know how she’s doing at work, if she has someone in her life. I don't know how she lives. Shouldn't I know this?” Her shoulders shake ever so slightly, and then all at once, they move up and down, side to side.

“Hitoka, it's okay. You’ll be okay.” Before he knows any better, Tsukishima stands and he just does what his instincts tell him to do.

“What?” Yachi asks as she’s being pulled into his chest, and she doesn't have the heart to ask further questions. Her hair and ear presses against the stable curve of his body. His heart is quickening as his hands land on opposite shoulders.

“Yachi-san, party of two.” The hostess calls into the waiting area, and Tsukishima nearly jumps away, now standing three steps away from her. He is sure someone saw their melodramatic performance and rolled their eyes at it. If he were on the outside, he would too. But on the inside of this bubble, maybe he’s not thinking so much about what other people think.

Yachi pays no mind to it and follows the hostess without sparing a glance to a scrambling Tsukishima, who rubs the lenses of his glasses on the hem of his shirt. First impressions start with being able to see her mother.

When they enter the private room that her mother has arranged for the lunch appointment, the first thing Yachi notices is her mother’s eyes, or rather, the lack of gaze. Her mother’s eyes are on her phone, clicking away on the device. They still contain the same beauty that Yachi admires, laced with lines around them. While her mother doesn't have the same youthfulness as she did when Yachi saw her last, she is the most beautiful.

Yachi doesn’t want to be rude, so she waits until her mother is done with her business and her eyes look to her daughter and this man right next to him. “Hitoka, it’s good to see you.” Her mother rises from her chair to meet her.

Her mother stretches her arms around her daughter and it is a foreign feeling for everyone in the room. Her mother hasn’t felt her baby in her arms in five years, Yachi hasn’t felt the comfort of motherly love, and for Tsukishima, he feels the palpable awkwardness between them. At last, Yachi pats her shoulders, in the best attempt to reciprocate this action.

When her mother releases, she gestures for the two of them to sit across from them.

The first questions that come out of Yachi’s mouth are “Are you on a lunch break? Do we have a set amount of time to be with each other?” and Tsukishima doesn’t know whether to feel appalled for her mother or be proud of Yachi for standing up for herself, in this strange manner. For sure, Tsukishima did not expect anything of the sort to happen if it were based on when they first met at Karasuno. Yachi surely has changed, but so has Tsukishima.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Happy mother’s day, I brought you something,” Yachi says. She reaches into her bag and she relinquishes a leather wallet that must have cost her a fortune, adorned in gold embellishments and pressed all over with a brand.

“Thank you, this means a lot to me, Hitoka.” And she’ll put it into her closet, with the rest of the items she’s purchased or have received as gifts. This is the woman she has grown to know as her mother. “But I didn’t ask you to come here because I expected a present. I came here because I want to see you. It’s mother’s day, but I’m not a mother without you.”

“Of course she would say something like this,” Yachi mutters under her breath as she balls her hands into fists underneath the table, her dress fabric becoming one with her hands.

“This isn’t like you, Hitoka,” Tsukishima whispers into her ear. This isn’t like her. He feels like a wedge between them, a referee of some sorts. “I shouldn’t be here.” His teeth are gritted, finding new things within a half a conversation about this girl he’s known for years.

“You should stay, Tsukki,” Yachi replies, using his old nickname. Turning her head back to her mom, she takes a deep breath and lets everything out all at once. “You shouldn’t have called me, you know. We can live without each other.”

“Is it a crime,” the woman on the other end looks right into Hitoka’s eyes and she squirms under the sudden dissection. “Is it a crime,” she repeats. “to see the woman that made me a mother? I’m sorry I haven’t been there—”

“It can be when my mother doesn’t speak to me for a few years and then she suddenly wants to get in contact with me.” Yachi holds onto Tsukishima’s hand underneath the table, their fingers intertwining, but it is different than when Tsukishima led Yachi through the streets of this city.

“But I want to get to know you now.” And there is an earnest look in her eye that causes Yachi’s insides to rub rotten. “I am telling you the truth, Hitoka. I love you, and you are my only daughter. You can ask me anything and I will not tell you a lie.”

Yachi’s lips press into a thin line and her eyebrows connect at the center of her face. Tears rush from her cheeks up to the bottom of her eyes, but she won’t let her body feel the resolution it seeks. “How can I trust you? How can I trust you, mom?” Yachi’s just letting all the words come out, not knowing whether or not her words hold the tone she’s really feeling. She tries her hardest to hold against the walls she’s built, but she can feel the crumbling from the inside.

“I don’t know what to say, Hitoka.” Madoka slides the hair tie out of the bundle and lets all of her hair fall. The strands curl at the ends without effort and they reach to the bottom of her shoulder blades. It’s as Yachi remembered, but not quite. “If you can’t trust me now, then I suppose that’s okay. But I want you to trust me eventually. I care about you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not supporting you these last few years, but I want to make up for it.”

It’s hard to pick out what Yachi wants to hear when everything feels fabricated and made up on the spot. The muscles in her chest stretch out from the middle, or maybe it’s her lungs squeezing with too much effort. Either way, she must be on fire and her tears want to extinguish her flames.

Tsukishima feels like Hitoka’s blazes have expanded into the outside world because what he just saw go down between the two women in this room seemed like a fire truck combusting into spontaneous flames. “Hitoka,” he mutters. With his thumb, he wipes away a stray teardrop that hugs against the side of her cheek. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Her words aren’t directed at a single person, but she still feels the need to apologize for how she’s feeling. “I’m sorry, mom.”

“I am the one that’s at fault. There’s nothing to be sorry about, Hitoka.” Her mother, the vision of poise, is blubbering her words softly, but it’s clear that she’s trying to keep everything together. She stands and is tentative with her steps. “Would it be okay if I hugged you right now?”

“Please.”

Tsukishima watches the pair make up and eventually, he notices the wistful smile he has on. He wishes he were with the rest of his family, crowded around a table to fight for food, even if it is just the three of them. This is his life now, though. He’s made up his mind on where he is living, but he doesn’t have to be set on how his family relationships lie.

Tsukishima’s hand has been long unoccupied as Hitoka speaks to her mother in hushed tones, Hitoka’s lips moving right by her ear and arms slung around her mother’s neck. He can’t hear them, but by the looks of their faces, it must be reviving conversation.

“Oh, right! Mom, this is Kei.” He can’t deny that there’s something inside that swells deep when Hitoka introduces him as Kei to her mother, but all there is to show on the outside is a polite smile.

Madoka straightens her back to look at him through slotted eyes. “I feel like I’ve seen him before, when you were in high school.”

“Right, he was on the volleyball team. Well, he’s still playing volleyball with the Sendai Frogs. He’s a great player and I try to make their games whenever I can,” Yachi beams with delight.

“Your family must be so proud, Kei.” Madoka takes a pause before continuing. “Are you two dating? Is this why you brought him today, Hitoka?” There is a teasing implication running along her tongue as she speaks.

At the same time, Yachi says “sort of” and Tsukishima says “no.” In an unironic and comical fashion, they both turn their heads at each other and stare.

“Oh,” Yachi’s mother mutters, holding a hand to her mouth. She only planned to be part of one reunion, but seeing another union blossom right before her eyes is priceless.

“I wanted to talk to you about that, Kei,” Yachi’s eyes can’t quite meet his when she says this. “Nobody else knows me like you do.”

“Right.” He glances back and forth between Yachi and her mother. This would be a weird way to confess that he’s been in love with her for the past four years, but he decides that any time would be better than this. “We should talk about this later, but I feel the same way about you.”

“Oh, great! Maybe I’ll have grandchildren one day!”

“Mom!”

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#haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuuwriters 0520 #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu writing #haikyuu writers #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu yachi #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #yachi hitoka #yachi #tsukiyachi #tsukishima haikyuu #yachi haikyuu #karasuno

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three-drink-amy · 5 years

Text

Impossible

This is my one shot for the One Quote, One Shot Book 2. I’m so glad that @notevenjokingfic and @balfeheughlywed continued this! Thanks, ladies!

My quote is: I bristled a bit at this. I had been feeling a trifle nervous myself over the general revealingness of the dress, the fashionable sketches the seamstress had shown me notwithstanding. But Jamie’s reaction was making me feel defensive and thus rebellious.

The promise I’d made to Frank was still fresh in my mind. My entire being rebelled against the idea of a life without Jamie, but here I was. He’d sent me back and I had to keep the promise I’d made to him as well. Our child needed a good life. I had to remind myself too many times that I was doing this for my child, for the last remaining piece I had of Jamie.

I walked to the window of my room and saw Frank burning my 18th century clothes. What I’d worn as Jamie held me for the last time ever. What had been my proof of where I’d been for years.

Frank glanced up at me, giving me a look that all but said “I’m doing this for you.” No matter how much he tried to tell me this was the right choice, I just wasn’t there yet. I didn’t know if I’d ever get to that point.

That night, I still slept in my own room. Frank was my husband here, but he was not my husband in my heart. As I laid there, willing sleep to find me, I silently wept. I yearned for Jamie, for the comfort of his arms around me. The comfort of feeling safe, no matter the conflicts around us. I missed my husband, but no one in this century could understand that. I was grieving with my entire being, but I wasn’t allowed to show it.

I knew I needed sleep. Getting rest was important for my unborn child. My mind flitted to my other child. Faith. Perhaps she had finally met her father. He promised me that he would find me in the next life. I had no doubt that he would find our child as well. I almost felt comfort knowing that they were together. He had Faith, I had our second child.

The world was just too unfair to have let all four of us be together.

In sleep that night, they came to me.

I walked down a hazy corridor. It looked like a hospital. The same hospital I’d been in a week ago. I wandered down the hall, looking in empty room after empty room. I wondered why I was there. What was the significance of this hallway? As I got close to the last of the doors, a small red-headed child peeked out of the door.

I froze as I stared at her. Red curls covered her head. She wore an odd frock for a baby of nearly two years. A large smile crossed her sweet face as she looked up at me.

“Mama!”

I gasped as she looked at me with such intensity. She knew for certain that I was her mother. My mind jumped to the memory of the baby I’d held with red hair dusting her head. The baby I’d held who’d already passed on before she’d even been born. Her eyes held mine as she stood firm in the doorway.

“Mama,” she said again, seemingly trying to tell me more this time.

I knelt down in front of her, reaching my hands out to grasp her arms. “Yes?” I asked.

“Da here.”

“What?” I tried to understand her meaning. “What do you mean, Darling?”

Her head inclined toward the room behind her. “Da! Da here!”

I glanced over at the bed. The curtain was pulled to provide a modicum of privacy. All I could see was the patient’s feet. Looking back at the child in front of me, she nodded at me.

“Da!” she said again.

A knot of anticipation formed in my stomach. I stood up and walked slowly further into the room. My steps were slow, moving me at a glacial pace. I thought I knew what I’d find, but I didn’t want to be wrong.

I gently pulled back the curtain. A familiar mop of red hair shone against the stark white pillowcase. I gasped so loudly that I woke.

I sat up, shaking my head, clutching my chest. It had felt so real. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes. I tucked my legs up, curling around them. My head rested on my knees as I sobbed. More than ever before, I wanted Jamie’s arms to come around me and tell me that this was the dream. He was here and I was alright.

But he wasn’t here. I was alone.

Well, not completely alone.

“I promise, whatever happens you’ll never be alone again,” he’d promised me. In a way, he’d been right. It just wasn’t the way I'd imagined. The way I yearned for at the moment.

My hand laid against my stomach. It was still flat. Aside from the knowledge that our child was there, you’d never know. I racked my brain for prayers Jamie used to say. I needed this child to survive. We both did. I needed this child.

When I woke up the next morning, I realized I’d cried myself to sleep. Slowly, reluctantly, I rose from my bed and dressed. It was such a fast process again. And yet, I missed the layers. I never thought I’d miss the corsets, the shifts, multiple layers that sometimes restricted movements. Right now, I’d give anything to have them back. It would mean I still had Jamie.

Brushing a hand down my front, I took a deep breath and left my room. I descended the stairs slowly, not entirely wishing to start my day. But I knew that if I didn’t come out of my room, Frank would likely come find me.

As I walked past the Reverend’s office, I heard Frank’s voice. I glanced in to see Frank on the phone. He was making travel plans. My stomach turned. I wasn’t ready to leave Scotland.

Closing my eyes, I moved away from the doorway to the office. An inviting smell lured me toward the kitchen. As I got closer to the room, I could hear Mrs. Graham talking to the Reverend.

“I think we should show it to her,” she said. I froze, knowing almost for certain her referred to me.

“There’s no reason to assume that she knows anything about this,” Wakefield replied.

“But what if she does? They canna say who this person is. What if she knows him?”

“What if she doesn’t and ye just stir up painful memories for her?”

Mrs. Graham huffed. The sound of dishes clanking together echoed from the kitchen.

When Reverend Wakefield spoke again, his voice was softer this time. “She just gave up on her delusion. She just agreed to resume her life with her husband. He’s making plans for their new life as we speak. There’s no reason ye need to bring it up.”

Mrs. Graham sighed. “Alright. I’ll no’ say anything to her.”

“Thank ye.”

Deciding that I’d eavesdropped enough, I walked into the kitchen. They both looked up at me. Mrs. Graham flashed me a kind smile. Reverend Wakefield looked uneasy as he shuffled around papers on the table. He shoved the newspaper under his plate. I wondered if whatever they were hiding from me was in today’s paper. I’d almost forgotten how quickly news travelled in these days.

Mrs. Graham set a plate of food in front of me at the table. “Do you know who Frank is on the phone with?” I asked.

“I believe he was trying to secure some plane tickets to Boston,” Wakefield informed me.

I nodded, silently acknowledging.

“Did ye sleep well?” Mrs. Graham asked.

For the first time this morning, I reflected on the dream from the night before. Not feeling like I could expand upon that, I lied. “Of course!”

She smiled back at me. “Good.”

My mind lingered on those images though. The small child in the doorway of a hospital room. Faith, no doubt. And Jamie, unconscious in a modern hospital bed. It was a painful image. Tormenting. My hands started to shake as I replayed it all.

I reached out for the juice in front of me, but my shaking hands knocked it over. The beverage quickly ran, spreading across the table. I jumped up, as did Reggie, both of us scurrying to sop up the juice. Moving his plate out of the way, the newspaper fell to the floor beside him. Mrs. Graham rushed over with a towel, effectively cleaning up the mess.

I bent down to pick up the papers that had fallen to the ground. My knees gave out and I collapsed on the floor as a familiar set of eyes stared up at me from the paper. I moved everything out of the way, wanting to get a better look. The picture looked just like the one they’d taken of me. Fear, confusion, and a pervasive feeling of sadness were clear, even in a grainy black and white picture in the paper.

I gasped loudly, clutching the paper tighter. Mrs. Graham looked over at me. “Claire, are ye alright?”

I ignored her questions. My mind was reeling too fast to make any sort of explanation. It wasn’t possible. He was 200 years in the past. No doubt, laying dead on a battlefield. How was his likeness captured and printed in a modern Inverness newspaper? There was just no way.

My eyes finally tore from the paper to look up at the other two. They both had questioning looks on their faces. Mrs. Graham looked a bit righteous while Reggie almost looked afraid. “What is this?” I asked. My mind wasn’t ready to read the article that might just tell me.

Mrs. Graham bent down until she was at my level. “Do ye know this man?”

“What is happening?” I pressed. I couldn’t tell her who I thought he was until I knew for sure.

Wakefield sighed, his hand covering his face. Mrs. Graham looked more sympathetic. “After ye came back, Claire, people started to wonder where ye’d been, ye see?” I nodded. I hadn’t told my story to anyone but Mrs. Graham and Frank. Though Frank had surely told Reggie. “With yer disappearance at the stones, and then turning back up on a road coming from there, well, people were curious.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “Well, someone went back to Craigh na Dun, wondering if something had really happened there. As they got to the top of the hill, they found this man laying in the center of the circle.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. I stared back down at the picture, noting the fear again. It was him. But how?

Mrs. Graham continued. “According to the article, he was very gravely injured and they took him to the hospital.”

“He was injured?” I cried.

She nodded, an unsure look crossing her face as she took in my expression.

I jumped up, feeling true motivation for the first time since I’d come through the stones again. “I have to go.” I clutched the paper in my hand, stomping toward the front door.

“What? You can’t go!” Reggie called.

“I have to.”

“Why?”

I turned around and held out the picture for them. “Because this man is my husband.” Reggie went a bit white, glancing back toward his office where Frank was. On the other hand, Mrs. Graham smiled, almost triumphantly.

“I’ll take ye,” she offered.

Reggie protested more as the two of us ran from the house. We were in her car as he still called to us. I couldn’t be stopped. If it was possible that Jamie was here, I was getting to him, no matter the cost.

She drove slower than I would have. Perhaps that was safer. I felt desperate, wishing all other cars were off the road. Could it really be possible? Could he really be here? But how?

I remembered begging him to come with me. He’d told me his destiny was on Culloden Moor. But how was he in the newspaper in 1948? I wanted answers. And more than anything else, I wanted this all to be real.

When we got to the hospital, I ran from the car. My shoes were still a bit unfamiliar to me. I tripped slightly, catching myself on another car.

“Ye might want to slow down,” Mrs. Graham advised from behind me. I waved my acknowledgment, slowing down only slightly.

We raced to the front desk. I slammed my hands down on the desk, stopping myself. “Where is he?” I don’t know why I thought that was enough. The nurse looked at me in utter confusion. “The man they found at the stones. The unnamed man. Where is he?”

A doctor standing behind her turned his head at my outburst. “Ma��am, I’m afraid that’s no’ information we can be sharing.”

I flattened the paper on the desk, showing it to them. “He’s my husband! This man from the paper, he’s my husband. I need to see him!”

“Yer...husband?” The doctor asked. I nodded insistently. His eyes narrowed at me. It was clear the moment he recognized me. “Ma’am, I’m afraid we canna let ye go see him.”

I groaned loudly. “Look, I know quite well you think I’m crazy, but I’m not. That man is my husband and I need to see him. I know you recognize me. I was the woman that was here just last week after being found out there too. Which means that I know what I’m fucking talking about. That man is my husband and I demand that you tell me where he is.”

The doctor looked at me, scrutinizing me. He shook his head to himself. “I’m sorry. I know that you believe this to be true, but I’m afraid I can’t let you see him.” He walked away, still shaking his head.

Tears were swimming in my eyes. I wondered if anyone would stop me if I simply started going room to room, looking for him. My cheeks were growing wet as Mrs. Graham’s hand patted my shoulder. I shook my head, trying to decide what to do next.

“Room 233.”

My head whipped over to the nurse behind the desk. “I’m sorry?”

She looked both ways before looking at me again. “The man in the paper, the one you’re looking for. He’s in Room 233.”

My tears flowed faster as I reached across the desk and grabbed her hands. “Thank you! Oh my goodness, thank you so much.”

She nodded kindly, squeezing my hand. Her head tilted toward the right, telling me which way to go. I was off before she could tell me again, Mrs. Graham following in my steps. I found the right room quickly — even if it felt like a hundred years. Pausing, my hand hovered over the knob.

“Go on,” Mrs. Graham encouraged. I looked over at her and she shot me a bright smile, nodding for me to go in.

“What if it’s not him?” I whispered. My stomach tightened, my heart racing. “It’s impossible for him to be here.”

She grabbed my hand, gently taking the paper from me. Holding it up to me, she showed me the picture. “Is this him?” I stared at the face looking out at me. I knew those eyes, that hair, that face.

“Yes.”

“Then go on.”

I took a deep breath, nodding, somewhat to myself. My hand turned on the knob and the door was opening, even if my mind seemed a step or two behind. The scene when I entered was just like my dream. A pulled curtain. Only feet visible. I prayed the rest of the dream followed — that I’d pull back the curtain and it would really be him.

I crept closer, a strong wave of anxiety taking over me. I wanted to turn back. I couldn’t be disappointed if I never looked. Turning back, I looked to Mrs. Graham for help. She stood out of the room, just past the doorway. I knew what she was doing. She was giving me space.

“Can you look?” I whispered.

“But I don’t know what yer man looks like.”

“Just look and see if he looks like the man in the picture.”

She shot me a look, but agreed nonetheless. Walking forward, she went past me and moved around the curtain. I held my breath. She came back around and nodded to me. “It’s the man from the paper. He’s asleep, but it’s him. I’m sure of it.”

I breathed out a sigh, though I didn’t know if it was anxiety or relief. Mrs. Graham left me alone again. Laying a hand on my stomach, I reminded myself — not all alone. My hand shook as I reached for the curtain. Gently, holding my breath, I pulled it back. I vaguely heard the scratching sound of the rings against the bar. But my eyes had locked on the man in the bed and nothing else mattered. I stumbled forward, crying out loudly. My hand clapped over my mouth as I stared down at him.

“How are you here?” I asked his unconscious form. I bent down, grabbing his hand. Furrowing my brows, I decided I wanted proof that it was him. Looking over my shoulder, I checked that the coast was clear before pulling down the neck of his hospital gown. A soft gasp echoed from me as I spotted the scar from the gunshot wound I’d patched up the day I met him. I looked next at his hand — the one I’d mended after Wentworth.

Tears were fully flowing from my eyes as the impossible laid in front of me. I sat on the edge of his bed, clinging to him, fully afraid that he’d disappear. Or worse, that I’d wake up.

I sat there for a long time, simply staring at him. My hand drifted up, grazing his cheek.

Slowly, his eyes started to flutter open. Deep blue eyes stared up at me. He wasn’t focused yet. I wondered how long he’d been here, how conscious he’d been. Now, I wished a doctor could tell me the extent of his injuries. Sooner than I expected, his eyes started to focus on me.

“Claire?”

I smiled widely, tears leaking from my eyes again. “It’s me.”

His face contorted, closing his eyes. Hands came up and covered his face.

“Jamie,” I tried. His hands came down and he looked at me. “I promise you I’m here.” I squeezed his hand and he jumped a little. His eyes locked on my hand over his.

“Sassenach?” Disbelief was clear on his face.

I reached my hand out to brush the hair from his face. “Jamie, I’m here. I’m real.” I choked out a watery laugh. “Though I don’t know how you are.”

“Ye’re real?” he asked, shock in his voice.

“I’m real.”

His hand I was holding turned and clenched mine tightly in his. The other hand lifted weakly off the bed, trying to touch my face. I could tell he had very little strength as it fell back to the bed. Grabbing his other hand, I lifted it for him, cupping it to my face. He gazed at me in wonder, his thumb stroking my cheek.

“Mo nighean donn.” He sobbed slightly, tears streaming down his face. “But ye went back.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and forcing more tears out. “I did. But, Jamie, look around. You’re in the 20th century.”

His eyes moved around the room, suddenly remembering where he was. “Aye. So that’s where I am, then?”

“How long have you been here?”

Jamie shook his head. “I dinna ken exactly.” His eyes drifted closed as a pained look covered his face. “Someone found me and started yelling. I was verra confused as to what was happening. They moved me from the hill into some carriage or such.”

“A car?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Well, I dinna ken. I was in and out of it a lot.” A dark look crossed his face. “Rather like my transfer to the abbey.” I nodded, not needing to acknowledge any more of that time in our past. “Then I was here, though I didna ken where here was, exactly. Even barely conscious, they asked me all sorts of questions I couldna answer.” He chuckled to himself. I almost swooned at the sound. “I kept wishing ye were here to answer them.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m here now, my love.”

He shook his head in awe as he stared at me. “I thought I’d ne’er see ye again, Sassenach.”

I swallowed harshly. “I know.” My hand cupped his face.

Jamie took a deep breath. “Next time I came to, I was here, in this bed. I’m still no’ so sure where I am.” He smiled broadly at me. “Though I dinna care, so long as ye’re here.”

“Well, I can tell you where you are. You’re in a hospital in Inverness.” I looked behind me before continuing. “In the year 1948.”

His eyes went wide. “They worked,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

He paused, breathing in and out deeply. “I was spared,” he told me in a small voice. My eyes widened. “I went back to fight, as I said I would.” I felt my face fall. His hand held mine tighter. “It was as ye always said it would be.” I looked down, unable to hold his gaze. He swallowed before continuing with his story. “I was on the battlefield and...well, I was hurt.”

My head flew back up. “Where?” Hands moved across his body, trying to find his injury.

His hands stopped mine. He brought them up to his lips, kissing the backs of my hands. “I think I’m alright. Either that, or I died and this is heaven.”

“Jamie.”

He pulled the blanket back and his gown up, revealing the massive cut across his thigh. I let out a small cry, my fingers hovering above the mark.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.”

I could see where the modern surgeons had no doubt tried to fix his leg. Suddenly, I turned to the end of his bed, reaching for his file. I scanned it all, reading all they’d done to save him.

“What is that?” he asked.

“It tells me all they’ve done to treat you.” I was looking specifically for something to treat an infection. I released a small “aha” when I finally found it. Penicillin. Last doctor’s report had shown healing. My heart soared. I put the file back where I found it and turned back to him. “What happened next?”

He reached for me. I scooted closer, putting both my hands in his. “Rupert found me,” he continued.

“He wasn’t mad?” I recalled his face as he’d seen us standing over Dougal’s body. My head shook at the memory.

“He told me he wouldna leave me there. So he took me and there were many of us gathered in a small barn. But eventually the British found us.”

My breath caught as he said it. I knew he was alive and in front of me (unless it was just a dream) but I was somehow still scared for him. He told me the rest of the story of how he was spared due to the debt owed by the boy he’d let go near Carryarick. The cart they’d started to send him back to Lallybroch on had taken off, but quickly, the driver had stopped to relieve himself. Taking advantage of not being terribly far from the moor and not being truly on their way, Jamie convinced the driver to take him to the stones instead.

“He was verra confused, but it was closer than Lallybroch and I dinna think he wanted to be caught wi’ me,” Jamie explained. “He all but carried me up to the stone circle and left me there.”

“Why?”

He stared at me for a moment. “I kent I wasna going to live. And I didna want to die in the back of a cart, being hauled off like swine. I wanted to go peacefully where I could feel close to ye.”

I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes again. “Jamie.”

“I was right by the middle stone. I was weak, so weak, but I reached my hand out and I touched it, just thinking of ye. I didna think it would work. That wasna why I did it, really. I just...I wanted to feel like I was wi’ ye.” He was getting choked up. “I felt like I was proper dyin’, even worse than my leg was doing. But then when I looked up, I was in the same place. Until the strangely dressed men found me, I had no inclination that anything had happened,” Jamie explained. I leaned forward, cupping his face in my hands and pressing my forehead to his. “I just wanted to see ye again,” he whispered.

“I know what you mean. It’s taken every ounce of strength I’ve had to not run right back to find you,” I informed him.

“Ye were right to stay here,” he replied. “Tis what’s best for ye.” A few emotions crossed his face in rapid succession. Joy. Disbelief. Worry. I knew what was on his mind before his hand moved to my stomach. “Tis best for the bairn.”

I laid my hand over his, pressing it further against me. “But you’re here now.” He glanced up at me. “So now, I can accept that.” I smiled at him. For the first time it occurred to me what his presence here could really mean. We could be a family. Just like we’d always wanted.

My emotions were building within me. Tears had varied between a steady flow and a slow trickle, but they’d always been leaking from my eyes. Suddenly, unable to hold back anymore, I leaned forward and hugged him to me. My arms wrapped around him tightly, like I was afraid he’d disappear. Truthfully, I was a bit afraid.

He was weak, but his arms came around me and held me back. I could feel his soft sobs as we held each other, as we held a recaptured future.

Slowly, I pulled back. “I’ve spent a bit over a week back here and I’ve been trying to imagine a life without you.” A sob cut me off.

“Sassenach,” he whispered, running his thumb along my cheek.

“I couldn’t do it, Jamie. I love you too much. I didn’t want to imagine it. People kept pushing me back toward my old life, but it wasn’t what I wanted. Or worse, what I needed. I need you. You and me. And our child. That’s all I need,” I promised him.

“That sounds like a dream,” he agreed.

“But it doesn’t have to be a dream anymore,” I reminded him. “You’re here. We’re in the same time. And we can be a family. We can have all we ever wanted, Jamie.”

His inner conflict was clear on his face. “This isna my time.”

“You helped me when I was out of my depth in the 18th century. Do you not think I’d do the same for you?”

He didn’t answer, but he looked a bit thoughtful.

I grabbed his hands again, squeezing tightly. “Jamie, if you go back, you’d be a wanted man. A traitor to the crown. If they find you, they’ll kill you.” His brow furrowed. “But if you stay here, we could be together. We could be safe. Our child could be raised by both of us. We could be a family. We...” I cut myself off, taking a deep breath. “We could be happy.”

Jamie opened his mouth to reply but I talked over him.

“Please, just think about it. You still have to heal, so you have time before a decision has to be made.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I started to question it all — our marriage, the depths of his love for me, the supposedly unbreakable bond between us. What if I had it all wrong?

“Claire,” he rasped. “Ye ken I want all that. I want nothing more than that.” He looked up at me, a vulnerable expression on his face. “But I dinna ken how to be in this time. I dinna want to make yer life harder or our bairn’s life harder.”

I shook my head. “You must know that I would take a hard life with you over an easy life with anyone else.” I let out a breath. “But, I promise you, it won’t make it harder. Living without you — that’s what would make my life hard. Growing up without a father — that’s what would make our child’s life hard.”

Jamie’s face hardened a bit. “But ye have a life here — one I dinna fit into. What about…” he sighed, “What about Frank?”

“I chose you over him once before,” I reminded him. “What makes you think I wouldn’t do so again? Jamie, I’m carrying your child. If you’re here, why would I raise them with anyone else? You are my life, Jamie. You’re my home. And maybe this home isn’t lost anymore.”

Tears glistened in his eyes again. “Ye’d really want me here?”

I didn’t know if words would be enough to reassure him. Instead, I pressed my lips to his desperately, trying to show him what I meant. A similar desperation radiated from him as he held me closely, returning the kiss.

I broke away, resting my forehead against his. “It’s you and me, you hear?”

“You and me,” he repeated. “And our family.”

I let out a soft sob. “Exactly.”

And in that moment, it all clicked together. The future we thought we’d given up was back in our reach. It would take some figuring out, but I knew we could do it. The misery I’d felt in the last week was nothing compared to the elation flowing through me as I laid my head against Jamie’s shoulder while he held me. Neither of us could let the other go.

The first time I willingly released him was when the doctor came in to check on him. I thoroughly interrogated the man to get a good indication of Jamie’s health. He informed me that they’d cleaned and stitched his wound, giving him regular doses of penicillin to prevent infection. He was starved (which I already knew he would be) and they were trying to slowly build back up his nutrients and rehydrate him. The doctor seemed optimistic, even if he thought Jamie’s leg would take a long time to heal. I didn’t care so much — neither did Jamie — so long as it would, in fact, heal. I could see the thought of an amputation like Ian’s floating in Jamie’s eyes.

I hated that Jamie wasn’t my patient. That he was under someone else’s care. But this doctor seemed to know what he was talking about, as well as care about Jamie’s outcome. I didn’t care for the doctors who’d treated me upon my return. But this one, I liked. As long as he told me I wasn’t going to lose Jamie again, I was good with him.

Jamie was exhausted and I could tell. I encouraged him to sleep and promised I wouldn’t leave. Once he was fully out, I finally remembered Mrs. Graham. She was sitting in a chair just outside the room.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried, walking halfway to her. She jumped up and met me in the middle. “I forgot.”

She smiled at me kindly. “Ye have nothing to be sorry for, my dear. So it was indeed him?”

I returned her smile, nodding. “It is. It still feels impossible, but it’s him.” We walked back into the room together when I felt an almost magnetic force pulling me back to him. I took the chair next to his bed and held his hand as he slept. I started to weep when I saw the corner of his mouth pull up into a smile in his sleep. “I’m still half convinced this is a dream.”

Mrs. Graham shot me a sympathetic look. “I’m awake, and I can promise ye it’s no’.”

I looked from Jamie and back to her. Finally putting it all together, I told her about my dream from the night before. I shook my head as I got to the end. “It was almost prophetic.”

“Ye were close to leaving Scotland, were ye no’?” I nodded. “He’s been here for days, Claire. Perhaps yer child was really reaching out to ye. Making sure ye found each other again.”

I gaped at her. “You really believe that?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think there is something that brought ye to him before. And I’d be willing to bet that same something brought him to ye this time. Fate. Destiny. The universe. Who knows? But something wanted ye to find each other. That’s what I know.”

“Thank you,” I choked out.

She squeezed my shoulder. “Ye’ve been given a gift, Claire. I ken just by looking at ye that ye’re no’ about to squander it.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m certainly not.”

She took a seat in the other chair in the room. We sat there quietly for a while, absorbing the peace in the room. Jamie slept soundly, no doubt feeling more at ease than he had in a very long time. I almost felt like I could sleep myself.

A loud set of footsteps sounded through the hall. It grabbed both of our attention. We glanced at each other before looking toward the door.

“Claire!”

My eyes went wide. Frank. In my haste to see Jamie, I’d forgotten all about him.

“Claire! Where are you?”

I was jumping out of my chair to run out to the hall when he stormed past the room. He caught sight of me and froze. I moved to my right, trying to block Jamie from view as much as I could. His eyes landed on him anyway.

I walked forward, sliding the curtain behind me. “Frank, I think we need to talk.”

“Who the hell is that?” he demanded, pointing to the curtain.

I took a deep breath. As I prepared to tell him the full truth, Mrs. Graham rounded the curtain. “I think this is a conversation for another place.”

“I agree,” I replied.

“Claire, you need to tell me what the hell is going on. And right now. I think I’ve been very understanding lately, but enough is enough.”

I was frozen. I didn’t know how to explain it well enough to Frank. It was quite clear he didn’t believe where I actually was when I’d disappeared. With Jamie here, my explanation was even flimsier.

“Claire?” A different voice called my name. My heart clenched. It was a situation I desperately wanted to avoid.

I saw the anger in Frank’s eyes a second too late. He stormed over and threw back the curtain. It wasn’t Frank I was looking at, though. It was Jamie.

His face contorted, fear taking over quickly. I ran to his side, stepping between him and Frank. “It’s not him,” I promised. “He was dead, remember?” Jamie’s eyes didn’t leave Frank. “Look at me.” He didn’t. “Jamie, look at me!” Reluctantly, he moved his gaze to me. “That’s not Black Jack. That’s Frank.”

“Black Jack?” Frank asked.

I looked briefly over my shoulder. “I told you about my encounters with that horrendous man.”

“Claire, what the hell is going on here?” Frank demanded again. I saw Jamie stiffen at Frank’s tone. His good hand clenched into a fist. I laid my hand on it, trying to ease his mind. I left my hand over his, turning to look at Frank.

“Frank, I’m afraid I won’t be able to go to Boston.”

“Excuse me?” He nearly laughed as he said it. “You promised me.”

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to do that anymore.” I knew he needed an explanation, but I wasn’t sure how to do so.

“Because of him? This is him, huh?”

“It is.”

Frank glared at me. “You said you were in the 18th century.”

“I was.”

“You said he was dead in the Rising.”

“I thought he was.”

“Then what the fuck is he doing here?”

“I saw it in the paper today. They found him at the stones. Just like me,” I told him.

“So what about your whole story of sending you back for a better life?” Frank questioned.

“Aye, I did that.” I turned to look at Jamie. He was glaring at Frank. “I ne’er thought the stones would work. But they did and I’m here.”

Frank let out a disbelieving laugh. “You promised me, Claire. You came back to me. You promised me we’d raise the child together. As ours.” I felt Jamie’s hand tighten against mine.

“I’m sorry, Frank. I have to break that promise.” He shook his head at me. “I can’t leave him.”

“You can. I was your husband first. Send him back to his own time and keep your damn promise.”

“Let me rephrase that, then. I won’t leave him. I’ve made this choice once before, Frank. You or him. And it was him. Making that choice again, it’ll be the same result. I choose him. I’m having his child. I wouldn’t have even come back, Frank. I’m sorry, but this is my choice.” I felt bad being so blunt, but nothing and no one was going to separate us again.

“Were you lying then? I knew the time travel was a lie,” Frank accused.

“It wasn’t a lie!”

“Look at this!” Mrs. Graham cried, drawing all of our attentions. “Look at what they found him with.” She presented the room with Jamie’s personal effects. His bloodied kilt. His ruined shirt. His sporran, full of 18th century tokens. “Goes rather well wi’ what they found Claire wearing, does it no’?”

Jamie and I both stared Frank down, daring him to contradict us.

He shook his head. “Claire, you’re my wife.”

“That’s the problem, Frank, because I’m his wife too.” I held out my hands, both rings showing. I swallowed thickly, touching the gold ring. Two fingers closed around it, carefully pulling it from its place. I walked closer to Frank. Holding it out for him, I waited for him to hold out his hand. “Frank, take it.”

“No. I’m not giving in that easily.”

“Frank, you’re fighting for something you already lost. I’m sorry, but I can’t go back to the life we had. I think you know I only agreed to go back because I felt I had to. That I felt I had no choice. We made sense to me at some point, but that point is over. We’ve spent years without each other. Do you really want me to be married to you because you forced me to be?”

He stared down at the ring in my outstretched hand. I could see how angry he was as his head shook. Finally, his hand grabbed the ring almost violently. He shot a look past me to Jamie. “You goddamned bloody bastard,” he spat. With one final look at the room, he stomped away. Mrs. Graham walked out after him. I suspected she was making sure he was really leaving. I closed my eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief.

I turned back to Jamie, reaching a hand to his cheek. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, seemingly stunned. “All that time,” he breathed. I leaned closer to him. “Every time we encountered him. He looked...he looked…”

“Yes, he looked like Frank,” I finished for him.

“How did ye…”

“That wasn’t necessarily a good indicator, but they were different,” I promised Jamie. “Very different.”

“Are ye sure, though? About yer choice.”

I sat down on his bed again, taking his face in my hands. “When you left me at the stones the first time, I felt perhaps a bit conflicted. I wanted to be able to tell Frank what happened to me. But not enough that I wanted to go back to tell him. I wanted to be with you more than anything in the world.”

“More than hot baths,” he reminded me with a grin.

“Exactly,” I agreed, remembering the perks of the 20th century that I’d shared with him as we rode to Lallybroch that first time. I leaned in to kiss him quickly. “But this time, this time is different. He knows what happened. He knows the choice I’m making. And more than ever, I’m sure of my choice. You are the man I love, James Fraser.” I took his arm, laying our wrists together. “Blood of my blood.”

He smiled, leaning his forehead to mine. “And bone of my bone.”

* * *

I didn’t want to leave for the night. My arms were resting on the side of the bed, my head leaning against Jamie’s side. His hand stroked my hair, lulling me into the sweetest stupor. We were sitting in a comfortable silence. It was comforting enough just to be together. In the short time we’d been apart, too many painful memories had formed. Neither of us felt quite strong enough to spend all our time discussing them. I wasn’t sure Jamie would ever feel comfortable discussing them, except abstractly.

“Ye should go home,” Jamie whispered as my eyes started to flutter closed.

“I don’t have a home here.”

“Well ye must have been staying somewhere,” he reasoned. “Ye look exhausted, Sassenach. Go back and sleep.”

“I can’t.”

Jamie sighed. “Why?”

“Well, for one, I was staying with Frank’s friend, so I don’t really think I’ll be very welcome there,” I informed him. I took a deep breath as I thought of my other reasons. “But also, if I go somewhere else, I’m not sure I’ll believe that this wasn’t a dream. I’m scared if I wake up without you…”

Jamie nodded, his hand smoothing back my curls. “I understand. Truly.” His eyes met mine and I could see the sincerity there. “I just want ye to get some sleep. Ye need to sleep somewhere nicer than this.”

“Up until the past week or so, I was sleeping in a rebel army camp,” I reminded him. “This feels like a five star hotel.”

His brow furrowed at my comparison, but he pushed on. “Exactly. Ye were in terrible conditions. Ye need to be in a bed or such. Somewhere comfortable. What about the bairn?”

I rolled my eyes. “Jamie, I’m not going.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Well come over to my right side.” He started scooching in his bed, closer to the left side. I watched him, unsure of what he really meant. Once he was in place, he patted the space next to him. I smiled, walking around the bed and laying down in the spot he created. His arm came around me, holding me close. “Go to sleep, a nighean. I’ll be here.”

“What if a doctor comes in and wants to send me home?”

“I’ll start pitching a fit and they willna ken what to make of it,” Jamie teased.

I picked my head up to look at him. “That sounds like a good plan.” He chuckled, his eyes regaining a bit of the sparkle they once had. His head came down, meeting me for a short kiss. I snuggled in closer to him, knowing almost for certain, I was going to get the best sleep I’d had in awhile.

* * *

Miraculously, no one tried to kick me out. When I woke, Jamie was asleep next to me, his arm still around me. I had been right. I wasn’t sure I’d gotten a night of sleep that good since we’d left Lallybroch to meet the army.

I stayed where I was in Jamie’s hospital bed, far too comfortable in his arms to move. My mind was moving quickly though, jumping from thought to thought like a frantic trapeze artist. It was going to be up to me to make sure we had a future in this time. I felt confident that the two of us were strong enough to handle most things. We’d already proven that many times over. But Jamie was out of his depth here. I made a silent list in my head of all the things I needed to figure out. Money. A place to live. Jobs. Clothes.

The first thing to do was make sure Frank hadn’t cleared out my account with my inheritance from Uncle Lamb. From the stories Mrs. Graham had told me, it seemed Frank held out hope that I’d return. One call could answer that question.

The next thing to do was find clothes. I didn’t have very much and I didn’t particularly want to return to the Reverend’s manse. Jamie would need modern clothes most desperately.

Finding a place to live was going to be difficult, but imperative. Maybe Mrs. Graham could help me come up with some options. I got the feeling that she had the lay of the land in Inverness.

I felt confident that I could likely get a job as a nurse again. I still had the skills — had perhaps even advanced them in my time away. I had been acting as a full surgeon in my years in the past. That was at least one part of my life I’d kept up with. Hopefully some doctor or hospital would need a nurse.

I was going to do all I could to make sure that Jamie didn’t regret staying in this time. We only had so many months to get our lives together before we were bringing another one into it. By my estimation, it would be around November. It was still April, so we had plenty of time. Theoretically. A lot was up in the air. I hoped our “we’re strong enough” attitude stuck around in the 20th century.

I felt Jamie start to rouse next to me. Looking over, I relished the familiar sight of him waking next to me. His eyes opened and he smiled at the sight of me. “Good morning,” I greeted.

“Aye, a good one indeed.”

I laughed. “How are you feeling?”

He leaned over and placed a kiss against my shoulder. “The best I’ve felt in a long time.” I glared at him, wanting an honest report. “I’m alright. Haven’t ye spouted the magic of modern medicine to me before? I’m fine.”

“You better be,” I replied, raising one eyebrow at him. He grinned, bringing me in for a kiss.

Now that he was awake, I felt the need to start my errands. I needed to get as much done as I could before he got released from the hospital. I wasn’t sure how long they’d keep him. Perhaps talking to the doctor was another thing to add to my list. I pulled myself from the bed, giving Jamie the whole space back.

“Okay,” I said, turning back to him. “I have some rather important things I need to do today. So, I am going to go do that, but I’ll come back, okay?”

Jamie nodded. “Alright. What are ye doing?”

“Well whenever you get out, you’re going to need clothes. Clothes that aren’t disgusting and torn.” He seemed unsure. “Look, it’s going to be a lot of change, but I promise, I’m going to help you through it. And I know —”

“Ye did it for me,” he replied. “I can do it too.”

My head tilted to the side as I looked at him, a smile spreading on my face. “Yeah, I did. At least you won’t have to wear a bloody corset.”

Jamie laughed, his head falling back against his pillow. “Thank goodness for small mercies.”

I walked closer to his bed again, running my hand through his hair. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Jamie nodded to me. “Alright. Be careful.”

I kissed him softly. “I will. You too.”

* * *

I stood in the middle of several racks of clothes, feeling utterly lost. I thought of Mrs. Fitz, who’d fashioned me in 18th century garb when I was new to Leoch. She’d made damn sure I was dressed sensibly for the Gathering. I thought of Jenny, too. She’d provided me with extra pieces when needed. A spare shift, an extra corset. It was what I had always imagined having a sister was like. But as I stood in front of 20th century clothes, I felt confused. I’d worn them for most of my life, but the last few years had fundamentally changed me. I thought back on the clothes I’d brought with me to Scotland originally. They were smart, sensible options. I always thought I looked good wearing them. But as I stood in the middle of a clothing store, nothing called out to me. Not even pieces I’d have worn before.

I decided to find Jamie clothes first. That would be easier. It was always easier for men to dress, no matter the century. They could wear a kilt and let their knees show, but good lord, if a woman did… Or now, they still had more freedom than the women did. Of course, that applied to more than just clothes. I shook my head, trying to refocus. I grabbed a few pairs of pants and several different shirts. A couple of blazers seemed like a smart choice as well. I eyed a hat for a moment before I decided to leave that up to Jamie.

“Do you want me to keep those at the front for you?” a kind saleswoman asked me.

I glanced at her, feeling thankful. “Yes, please.” I handed her the large bundle I’d acquired. I still needed to look for clothes for myself. I watched a woman who was browsing near me. It had been a couple of years since I’d left. Normally, fashion wouldn’t change all that much in that time. But I had to wonder if the years since the war had changed it at a faster pace. I looked back and forth between various outfits. The old Claire would have easily picked something and left. I didn’t know why I was having so much trouble.

The saleswoman from before walked by me again and I stopped her. “Excuse me.” She turned to look at me, a smile on her face. “I was hoping for some help.” She nodded, encouraging me to continue. “I know this might sound odd, but I’m just not sure what will suit me best anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly and I saw a lightbulb go on. She took a step closer to me. “Are ye the woman from the paper?”

My eyes closed as I nodded.

“Is it true? That ye were wi’ the faeries?”

I breathed out a laugh. The woman’s intent face stared back at me. “More or less,” I replied. “I...was gone for awhile and the clothes I wore before just don’t feel right on me.”

She shot me a sympathetic smile. “I’m more than happy to help you, ma’am. Come right this way. We have a personal shopper in the back.”

“Oh, I don’t know that I need that.”

She waved me off. “Nonsense, this is exactly what she is for.” I was guided back to some room just off the main one. I saw two women talking closely as we entered the room. The saleslady cleared her throat and both women looked over. She put her hand on my shoulder. “I have a customer who is looking for some help. She’s…” she leaned closer to them, “...the woman from the paper.”

They seemed to know exactly what that meant as their eyes went wide. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss…”

“Claire,” I answered. The world knew me as Claire Randall, but I wanted to be Claire Fraser. Giving only my first name seemed easier.

“What seems to be the reason ye’re needing help?”

I cleared my throat, trying to decide how to answer. “I believe you know at least a bit about me. About my...disappearance. And when I came back...well, my clothes just don’t seem like me anymore. I’ve changed a bit, you see. I was hoping to find some pieces that are a bit more fitting to the woman I am now.” I watched as they appraised me for a moment. “I’m sorry, this is ridiculous. I’ll just go grab some things and be out of your hair.”

“No, don’t!” one of them called. I turned back. “This is exactly what we like to do.”

The saleslady left me with the other two and they asked me a bunch of questions I didn’t know how to answer about what I felt comfortable in, colors I liked to wear, fabrics that spoke to me.

The personal shopper — Martha, I think — introduced me to the other woman with her. She was a seamstress who worked in the store. The two women were very interested in finding me pieces I wanted and felt like myself in.

“People often think clothes are just clothes,” Martha said. “But it’s so much more than that. It’s how you express yerself to the world. And for many years during the war, we didn’t get very many choices in how we expressed that. But we’re starting to again. So, I am glad ye’re trying to listen to what you think fits for you.”

The seamstress pulled a sketch of a dress for me and, shockingly, I was sold from the moment I looked at it. It almost reminded me of the clothes I used to wear in Paris. Granted, it had several less layers and would have been considered incredibly inappropriate to wear then. But my eyes locked on it and I could picture myself in it — as Claire Fraser again. With their help, I walked away with several new outfits that I felt good about and a smile on my face.

Before I went back to the hospital, I stopped and changed from my sensible skirt and jumper I’d been wearing since the morning before. The dress was a big change, both in general dressiness and amount of skin showing. But for the first time in quite a while, I was starting to feel in charge of myself again. The war had taken more from me than my home and the people we’d lost. Wearing the dress made me feel daring again and I liked that. I put my coat back on over it, covering up the lower neckline and the straps that only covered a fraction of my shoulders. Compared to the clothes I’d worn in the 18th century, it was even less than a shift. But I liked it and felt like myself again.

I walked back into Jamie’s hospital room, bearing the purchases from earlier in the day. He lit up as I entered again. “Ye’re back!”

Putting the bags down, I walked over toward him, kissing him lightly. “I am. I had a productive morning too.” He nodded at me. “I got us both some new clothes.”

“Ah, good.”

“They’ll keep you in that gown until you leave the hospital, but it’s here when you need it.” I felt a nervous energy run through me as I started unbuttoning my coat. Jamie’s eyes followed me as I slowly stripped off my coat, revealing the new dress beneath it.

“Christ, Claire. What is that?”

I bristled a bit at this. I had been feeling a trifle nervous myself over the general revealingness of the dress, the fashionable sketches the seamstress had shown me notwithstanding. But Jamie’s reaction was making me feel defensive, and thus rebellious.

“It’s a dress,” I said as if it was obvious. “This is how women dress nowadays, Jamie.”

“It barely covers anything.”

“Well I rather liked it,” I replied, hoping for a casual tone. “I liked the way it looked on me.”

“Ye can see everything.”

“No you can’t.”

“Is this really how women dress these days?” Jamie asked, one brow raised.

“Sometimes. I’ll admit this is a bit fancier than everyday wear, but I wanted to put it on. The dress I was wearing when I met you — that you believed was a shift — was a common outfit to wear,” I informed him. I was feeling vulnerable and a bit disappointed. I knew it showed much more than typical 18th century dress, but I hoped Jamie would just appreciate the way I looked in it. My arms came up to cover myself a bit. “I suppose if you find it that abhorrent, I’ll just go change into something else.”

I reached for my coat, wanting to cover up more. “Sassenach, wait.” I paused, but didn’t turn to him. “Come here.” I looked over at him. “I’m sorry. Ye told me that it would be a lot of change and I need to remember that.” He reached his hand out to me. Reluctantly, I put my hand in his and let him pull me closer. “Tis a pretty dress, it’s just...less than I am used to. That’s all.”

“I know. And I should have kept that in mind. I just…” I breathed out a sigh, trying to explain it to him. “I just put it on and felt like I used to, rather than how I’ve felt since I got back — since the war started, really.”

His face fell. “I’m sorry for making ye feel bad.” He sighed. “Ye ken well I dinna always react well when I feel powerless.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “That’s not true. You were more or less powerless most of the time we were together. When you were a fugitive or when we were at the mercy of the war.” I reached up and cupped his face. “I wasn’t allowed to show any confusion or hardships I faced when I arrived in your time. In order to survive, I had to blend in. But you have me. I’ll not let anything bad happen to you. And anytime you feel a bit lost or confused or overwhelmed, I’ll be here to help.”

“I love ye, mo nighean donn,” he said. “And I promise ye, I’ll do my best to get used to all the changes.”

“You will,” I reassured him. “And I promise you that I’ll try not to throw big changes at you. Give me a moment and I’ll go change.”

“Dinna change,” he told me, holding onto my wrist. “Ye look — pretty doesna quite seem like enough.” I smiled, ducking my head a bit. “And if ye say that it’s no’ indecent, then I believe ye.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know it has a lot less layers and such,” I said, looking down at the dress. He nodded in agreement. I leaned closer to him, a devious look in my eyes. “But you know, that means it comes off a lot faster.”

Jamie’s eyes went comically wide. He crushed his mouth to mine, holding me close. I chuckled against his lips as he continued to kiss me. I returned it in kind, as my hand rested at his neck. It couldn’t go anywhere. We were in a hospital and Jamie was still too weak. But feeling that spark within me again was an amazing feeling.

I pulled back before someone walked in. Encouraging him to scoot over again, I sat in the space beside him, leaning into his side. His arm came around me as I asked him how his day had been so far. We sat there talking and I informed him of the progress I’d made today.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I noticed that he was asleep again. Pressing a kiss to his temple, I moved gently from the bed. I was almost in the chair when someone stopped in the doorway, clearly looking for me. Shooting a look over my shoulder at Jamie, I walked out into the hallway.

“Frank? What’s going on?”

“I was getting ready to go back to Oxford,” he told me. “I wanted to see if you’d changed your mind.”

I looked down at my feet. “I’m sorry, but no. I haven’t changed my mind.”

He was quieter today. “So it’s him, then?” He shook his head. “Do you think if you’d have come with me you would have been happy?”

My shoulders rose into a slow shrug. “I don’t know, Frank. I...I think probably not. I’d have put on a good face, but no, I don’t know that I would have been.” I hated the pain on his face. “I never wanted to hurt you. I hope you believe that. I just changed. We both did. The war changed us.”

“Do you think you could have forgotten him in time?”

I glanced over my shoulder to look back at Jamie’s sleeping figure. I shook my head. “That amount of time doesn’t exist.”

“Where will you go?” Frank asked.

“I’m not sure. For a bit now, I think we’ll stay here in Inverness.”

He nodded, not really meeting my gaze. “I never got rid of your things. I’ll send them to Reggie and you can get them from him.”

My hand reached out, but fell before I touched him. “Thank you, Frank.”

He looked up at me, pain clear on his face. “I love you, Claire.”

“I know.” He wanted me to say it back, but I couldn’t. Not meaning it the same way I had years ago.

With a final nod, he started to turn. “Goodbye, Claire.”

I leaned forward, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodbye, Frank.”

He walked away from me and I watched for a moment. Then, I turned back and resumed my place at Jamie’s side. His hand was sheltered in both of mine as I finally felt truly at peace.

Frank had gotten the truth of my disappearance — whether he accepted it or not. Jamie wasn’t dead, but was miraculously in my time and with me. He was going to live. We were going to be together and have our child.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I finally focused on how everything had taken shocking, but beautifully welcomed turns. For the first time since I’d met him, I didn’t have a question in the back of my mind of when or if I’d lose Jamie. He was here. And whole. And, blessedly, mine. That was all I’d ever wanted.

* * *

I walked through the orchard of death, a white shawl around my shoulders. He was there and I could feel it. But would I get there fast enough? There was no child to guide me to him this time. I had to find him on my own. In a pile of bodies, I saw my beloved. His eyes stared up at a starless sky. Bending down, I whispered to him, “Jamie, are you alive?”

His eyes continued to stare skyward. He didn’t say anything back.

I woke myself with a gasp. My hands went to my face, feeling wet cheeks. I breathed rapidly, trying to sort through my dream. The room was dark and suffocating.

Suddenly, a hand was at my back, rubbing in soothing circles. “Sassenach, are ye alright?”

Turning to my right, I saw him. He was still alive. He’d made it to my time. Made it to me. A soft, choked sob ripped from me as I threw myself at him. My arms wrapped around him, clutching him close. He pulled me in closer, holding me securely against him.

“I’m here, a nighean. Ye’re no’ alone. I’m here,” he cooed. “It was just another dream.” I nodded against him. “Was it the battlefield again?”

“Yes.”

He moved back from me only for a moment as he turned on the lamp next to him. Taking my hand in his, he placed it over his heart. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he reassured me that he was there, alive and well. I hated how the dreams plagued me. They’d been peppered across the few months we’d been back together.

“Ye’re no’ alone,” he whispered again.

And whether it was in response to my rapid heart rate or just to prove that I really wasn’t alone, the child within me kicked. I gasped softly, placing a hand on my belly. Grabbing Jamie’s hand, I put it there too, waiting and hoping for another kick. His eyes widened as he felt it too, a smile growing on his face. He leaned down and placed a kiss against my stomach, whispering quick words to our child.

“None of us are alone,” he said, looking back up at me.

“Exactly. And we never will be again,” I declared.

Jamie leaned forward, kissing me softly. “Exactly.” He reached to turn the lamp back off. “Now, let me hold ye as ye fall back asleep. Perhaps it will keep the nightmares at bay.”

I followed his suggestion, rolling on my side. His arms came around me, cradling my belly and securing me in his grasp. My eyelids quickly grew heavy again. I scooted back into him, getting as close as possible. I had vowed to never take his presence for granted. As I fell asleep, I felt the rightness in the world. For Jamie was with me. And that was enough.

#one quote one shot book 2 #outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #my writing

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tsuki-chibi · 4 years

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Marinette March Day 29: Flowers

See the whole story on AO3: Under My Umbrella

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Marinette clung to her maman’s words over the next several days. Those words gave her the strength to get through giving her statement to the police, and the courage to stand at Adrien’s side during Émilie’s funeral. As it turned out, there was nothing that the doctors could do for her: the casket had acted as a respirator, laced with what had to be some magical properties. Because the instant that it was opened, whatever it had been doing failed and Émilie stopped breathing.

Her death had been both quiet and peaceful, which was really the only solace that Adrien had as his mother was finally laid to rest. When it was over, and the crowds of people were drifting away, Adrien knelt and laid a bouquet of flowers on the fresh dirt. He stayed kneeling for a moment, fingers brushing the dirt. Marinette glanced over her shoulder and saw that her parents were standing at a distance, waiting for them but giving them privacy. So she knelt too, not caring that her dress was going to get grass stains, and leaned into Adrien's side.

"I never really questioned why all of Père's stories about her never lined up," Adrien said thickly. "I should have asked more questions."

"You couldn't have known, Adrien," Marinette said. She had lost count of how many times she'd told him that, and she knew she would continue to repeat it many times over in the weeks to come. Even then, it would be a long time before it really sank in.

"That doesn't make it any easier," he said quietly, and Marinette had no answer for that. Luckily, a familiar voice spoke up.

"Adrien?"

Marinette turn to see Alya, Nino and Chloé standing right behind them. Automatically, her eyes darted to the necklace around Alya's throat, the bracelet on Nino's wrist, and the comb in Chloé's hair. It was strange to see them wearing their miraculous, but it was good too. The night after Gabriel was arrested, Ladybug had retrieved the Dragon, Rabbit, Monkey, Horse, Snake, and Butterfly miraculouses. She had conveniently forgotten to collect the Fox, Turtle and Bee.

"Hi guys," Adrien said, attempting a smile that fell flat. He stood up and promptly received hugs from Alya, Nino and Chloé, one right after the other.

"You okay?" Alya whispered to Marinette, moving over to stand beside her and linking their arms together.

"Getting there," Marinette whispered back, watching Adrien and Chloé embrace. So far as they knew, Chloé was still in the dark about their identities. But sometimes Marinette wondered if Chloé knew more than she was letting on. Chloé Bourgeois was many things, but she was not stupid. When she wasn't being a petty, spoiled brat, Chloé saw and understood a lot more than most people gave her credit for.

"Do you think you'll be coming back to school on Monday?" Nino asked Adrien.

"Probably. I don't want to get too far behind," Adrien said, and honestly even if he missed two months of school it was very unlikely that he would fall behind - Adrien was too smart for that. Yet Marinette could also appreciate where he was coming from. The urge to get back to a normal life struck at the strangest of times.

Plus, she knew that Adrien wanted to move on as much as he could before the court case. It would be a while before that happened, as evidence was currently being gathered against both Gabriel and Nathalie. Not only was Gabriel facing serious jail time, he was also being sued by both the city of Paris and multiple people who had been akumatized. By the end of it all, Marinette wasn't sure how much of the Agreste fortune would be left for Adrien beyond what was already legally his. She wasn't sure that Adrien cared, and perhaps rightfully so.

"That would be good. Class is so boring without you, Adrikins," Chloé said dramatically, and Adrien's smile was genuine this time.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," he said, but it was obvious that he appreciated the sentiment. Marinette hid a sigh. That really clinched it, didn't it? She was going to have to figure out how to let go of what had happened in the past between her and Chloé, because Adrien cared too much about Chloé to ever let go of her. And at this point, Adrien had lost enough. She and Chloé would probably never be friends, but they'd have to peacefully co-exist for Adrien's sake.

God, the things she did this for this boy.

Adrien turned and looked down at his mother's grave again. His expression was solemn, and if Marinette hadn't known him as well as she did, she wouldn't have had a clue what he was thinking. Because she did know him, she knew that he was filled with regret. Regret that he had lost the chance to say goodbye to his mother, regret that he had already mourned her long before she was buried, perhaps even regret that Hawkmoth's plan hadn't worked and that he would never see her again. Not that he would have wanted Hawkmoth to win, but love could be a slippery slope like that.

She reached out and took his hand. Adrien looked over at her, startled. Marinette gave him a small smile, intertwining their fingers. She wanted him to know that he wasn't alone, that he would never be alone again, and it seemed that Adrien got the message because he smiled back and squeezed her hand. The coming weeks were going to be hard on him. He'd need as much support as he could get. Luckily, he had Marinette, their friends, and Marinette's parents. It wasn't as much as he deserved, but they were all going to do everything they could for him.

"Adrien, Marinette!"' Sabine called. "Are you ready?"

"Just give me a minute?" Marinette said, letting go of Adrien's hand. He gave her a puzzled look, but Alya stepped forward and linked her arm through Adrien's this time.

"Come on, Sunshine. I'm pretty sure you've lost weight since I last saw you. You need some pastries," Alya declared.

Nino's eyes lit up. "I can get on board with that."

The two of them hustled Adrien away. Marinette turned to look down at Émilie's grave. The flowers that Adrien had set down seemed lonely. She knelt down again and carefully adjusted the bouquet until it was nestled right up against the gravestone, where it would hopefully be protected from the wind.

"You didn't take the Bee back. Does that mean you trust me now?"

Marinette froze, and then wondered how she could've been so dumb as to forget that Chloé was there. In the span of time it took her to straighten up, she quickly weighed her options and finally went with, "What?"

"Oh, don't play stupid," Chloé said tiredly. "I know who you are. It was so obvious after that night."

"What?" Marinette said again, turning around in surprise.

For once, Chloé didn't sneer, just regarded Marinette steadily. "Chat. I've never been around him much before, but he knew exactly where to go in the Agreste mansion. The way he climbed those steps, it was exactly like Adrien," she said, quieter now. "And the look on his face when he saw the photograph at the top of the stairs... it had to be him. Which makes you Ladybug. You can deny it if you want to, but I won't believe you."

So much for the miraculous magic. Tikki had said that it would take something really obvious for someone to be able to break through. It made Marinette wonder just how well Chloé knew Adrien. She had always assumed that they weren't really friends based on how aggressive Chloé could be and how uncomfortable Adrien could get, but then again they had known each other for literally years. Chloé was the only person that Gabriel Agreste had never turned away from his son. So how many times had Chloé watched Adrien walked up those stairs with that same slump to his shoulders?

"Fine," Marinette conceded at last, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah, okay, you're right. So what?"

"So can I keep my miraculous?" Chloé said, and Marinette cocked her head.

"That's it? No threats to out us unless you get your way?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"No," Chloé said.

"Because you know, if you stay as Queen Bee, you can never admit to anyone that you actually are Queen Bee," Marinette went on. "For that matter, it would probably be safest for you to assume a different identity. Yes." She nodded. "You'll have to pick out a new name for yourself and ask Pollen to change your outfit. Actually, Rena Rouge and Carapace will probably have to do the same."

Chloé didn't look thrilled by the news, but all she said was, "Okay."

"And if you ever told anyone who you were again, that would be immediate grounds for losing your miraculous," Marinette pressed.

"I have no one I care to tell," Chloé said. She was trying desperately hard to sound stoic, but fell short thanks to a slight quiver in her voice. In spite of Marinette's best efforts, that quiver got to her. Last time Chloé had outed herself in a bid to impress her mother, and all that had done was make Audrey think even less of her - if that was possible.

"Then yes," Marinette said, hoping she wouldn't regret this. Bottom of the line was, Chloé was good at being the Bee miraculous holder. Taking away the Bee miraculous wasn't going to erase the fact that Chloé had figured out who Ladybug and Chat Noir were. At least this way, Marinette would be able to keep a closer eye on Chloé. Or at least, that's what she told herself. Her decision had nothing to do with the huge smile that spread across Chloé's face.

"Thank you, Marinette," Chloé said, her blue eyes bright.

"You're welcome," Marinette said stiffly. "Papa baked a cake this morning. Would you like to come and have a piece? For Adrien's sake."

Chloé looked at her curiously, but finally nodded. "For Adrien's sake."

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #chloe bourgeois redemption #under my umbrella #marinettemarch2020 #marinettelove2020

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love-fireflysong · 4 years

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Day 10: Road Trip

Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Josh Washington, Chris Hartley, Ashley Brown Words: 2791 Rating: General Author’s Notes: And we are back to our regularly scheduled dose of Nerd Trio™ shenanigans! With bonus appearance of “oh no. there’s only one bed!”. I can only hope that you guys have half as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

To say that the three of them weren’t looking forward to this trip, would have been a dirty, rotten lie. They had been planning this ever since Ashley first joined them in the esteemed and hallowed halls of high school. The moment (or at least, couple of weeks after) she graduated, the three of them were going to rent an RV and just go. They had spent the last couple of years saving up for it in fact. While Josh had graciously accepted the cost of renting the RV, they still needed money to pay for gas, food, lodging, and so forth. It was planned as one last summer of freedom for all three of them before the duties of college, work, and being an adult lessened the ability to just hang out.

And oh, did Josh have a plan

He stood in front of the RV rental location, hands on his hips, and his head held high as he went through the objectives of said plan once again.

Step 1: Rent RV with 3 beds Step 2: Immediately change rental to two beds when the other two leave. Step 3: Feign shock when you drive it to pick up the others at how there’s not enough beds anymore. Oh no! What to do?! Step 4: ???? (Hint: it may have involved sharing the bed) Step 5: Profit

Steps one and two had been completed at the beginning of May, and now he had to get his acting chops together for step three. He had a bet to win after all. He had put down a frankly stupid amount of money that Chris and Ash would be married before they finished college. And the best way to do that was to get them dating before Ash even started. Hence, the whole ‘there’s not enough beds’ shtick.

‘I don’t know what to say guys’ Josh practiced in his head as he walked to the front desk. ‘There was a mix-up and we got stuck with this one instead. I tried to talk to some people but because it’s summer it was just too short notice to find another vehicle. But it’s fine! We got this! I’ll take the smaller bed, no, it fine, I’ll be okay, don’t you worry. You both know how I tend to hog the blankets anyways. And you two—oh. I guess that just leaves the double for you. Well, I’m sure you’ll manage.’

It was perfect. The plan was completely foolproof. Sure the multiple others he had tried over the last couple of years had failed spectacularly, but this one was different. If the two of them waking up in the same bed nestled in each others arms everyday for a month didn’t change things, then nothing would.

And so, Josh walked into the air conditioned lobby of the rental place, and greeted the man sitting at the front desk with an exuberant cock-sure grin. After a quick confirmation check, making sure to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s, Josh signed the paperwork with an overly outlandish signature and was handed the keys to their new home for the next month.

This month was going to be great.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“This month is going to be awful.”

Ashley stood in the center of the RV, her arms crossed angrily over her chest as she glared at the double bed situated further to the back.

“C’mon Ash, it’s not so bad. I mean, we can definitely make it work. Maybe?”

She turned towards Chris, who’s skill at placating Ash was less then stellar right now. “Make it work? How in the world are we supposed to make it work? There are three of us Chris! And only one bed!”

Unfortunately for everyone, especially Josh, she was right. After a day of driving, the three of them had finally arrived at their first stop on their leg of the journey. And with the way things were going already, it was looking like it might be their last.

“I don’t see how on earth you didn’t catch this Josh!”

From where he was sitting at the kitchen table and leaning back against one of the wall cushions, Josh shrugged weakly. “There was a mix-up and they accidentally booked us the wrong RV.” he lied, though not quite as smoothly as he had planned earlier in the day. “It’s summer and they didn’t have any others available that weren’t already booked.”

There was no way he was ever going to admit that he had declined the quick inspection that the agent had offered. He had just taken the keys and hooked it up to the truck without a single look. He was taking that secret to the grave.

With a groan, Ash joined Josh on the bench and placed her head in her hands. “I knew that I should have insisted a look when we were throwing everything into the back of the truck. But no, you insisted that everything was fine and we were late leaving anyway so I didn’t argue.” She moved to just placing her head face-down onto the table in the circle of her arms.

Hesitantly, Chris walked over to the table and joined them. For a moment, Josh thought he was going to start rubbing Ash’s back to try and calm her down, but he chickened out and awkwardly placed his hand back at his side. Instead the blond looked at the two of them hopefully. “I mean, maybe there is another bed somewhere?”

Josh regarded him with a flat look. “And where would you suggest that be Cochise?” He gestured with his arm to the rest of the area and watched as Chris’s face fell at the admittance the Josh had a point.

The area of the RV was small, as one would expect. There was the aforementioned double bed at the one end of the trailer, the kitchen table and its U-shaped benches where they sat at the other end, and the door leading to the small bathroom across from them. In the middle was a small kitchenette with a couple of cupboards, and the storage closets across from it. There was no chair or couch for them to sit on, or sleep on as the case was. They couldn’t even use the weird little table alcove as a bed either. The table was bolted into the floor of the trailer so you had to literally slide in if you wanted to sit down. Meaning that there was a very high chance of someone waking up and cracking their head on the table if they weren’t careful.

Ashley’s voice was muffled but mournful from where she had deigned to face plant on the table. “Knew Josh shouldn’t have went alone to grab the stupid thing. One of us should have went with him.”

“Yeah, well, them’s the breaks girl. I hate to be the one to interrupt this lovely pity party we have going on, but we really need to finish bring in the rest of our shit.”

Thankfully, Chris seemed to agree with him. “He’s right, Ash. Aside from bringing in the pots and pans and our clothes and toiletries, we still need to buy food. And I don’t know about you two, but I for one am starving.”

Slowly coming up from the safety of her arms, Ash sighed. “You’re right,” and continued with a more hopeful “And hey, maybe we’ll figure something out after eating some food.”

Three hours later, after an exciting evening of putting away their stuff, fighting over what food to put on the list, grocery shopping, fighting again (‘Who put the stupid Oreo's in the cart? We agreed no Oreo's!’ and ‘Really? Spinach? What are we, rabbits?’ being only two examples of the many, many arguments had there), and having shared a hearty and nutritional dinner of Kraft Dinner before bickering over who got to clean the dishes first (Josh lost that fight, on virtue of screwing up with the RV), they still hadn’t figured anything out. So now here they were, the three of them dressed for bed in old t-shirts and sleep shorts and/or sweats. And all staring at the only bed in resigned acceptance of their fate.

“I mean, one of us could just sleep in the truck.”

Ashley sighed. “No Chris, no one’s sleeping in the truck.” Noticing the look on his face, she was quick to shut him down. “Or on the floor, so don’t even bother offering.”

Josh shrugged. “ I mean, we’re all pretty skinny people. The one benefit of being pasty bookworm, and even more pasty technophile, and a handsome horror movie connoisseur.” He expertly ducked to avoid Chris’s headlock, though it put him right in line for Ash’s smack to connect with the back of his head. “So if we squeeze, we might all fit.”

The groan that came from Ash would have been insulting if he wasn’t feeling the same way. “Unfortunately, I think that’s the only option available to us. Oh, this is so not going to be comfortable.”

“Well, excuse you Ash, but I have heard from reputable sources that I am a very comfortable person, a human shaped body pillow if it were, so I take extreme offense to your complaints.” Again, Josh was able to avoid Ash’s push but was left open for Chris to punch him in the arm. He rubbed his arm as he stared at the other two. “Okay, seriously, how are you two doing that? Do you plan this out or something? Have normal, scheduled meeting about how best to injure me?”

“Something like that.” Chris responded distractedly as he dug through a drawer, closed it, and then opened another. Eventually, he managed to find what he was looking for and after a few more moments, turned around with three pieces of a plastic straw in his hand.

Josh eyed the straws warily. “What? You planning on having one last milkshake before bed or something?”

Chris rolled his eyes as he offered his hand clutching the straws to both Josh and Ashley. “Of course not you moron. Ash didn’t let us buy any ice cream anyway. No, this is to decide who gets to be in the middle.”

With a slightly nervous glance shared with Ash, Josh swallowed and reluctantly chose a straw.

And, as it turns out, ending up as the middle spoon as he laid cramped and miserable and oh so awkwardly between Chris in front and Ash at his back.

“This is awkward and I hate it,” Josh said.

“Shut up, Josh,” Chris and Ashley replied in unison.

-------------------------------------------------------------

When Josh woke up the next morning, the early morning sun shining into the window right above the bed, it was with him spread on his back. Chris was snoring right by his head, Ash’s face was smushed into his shoulder, and each of them had one arm draped over his chest. Someone might have found this entire scene cute.With Chris snoring loudly in his ear and Ash drooling on shoulder though, Josh was not that person.

With a groan, he carefully extracted himself from the center of the bed, somehow miraculously managing to not wake the other two up, and watched with nonplussed amusement as Chris and Ashley gravitated in their sleep to the now empty center, Ash ending up pressing her face into Chris’s chest as he buried his own into the top of her head, still snoring all the while. With a wistful sigh, he could only bemoan the fact that his plan totally would have worked. If only there had been a second bed.

Yawning and scratching at his stomach, Josh made his way to the shower at the other end of the trailer, grabbing a fresh set of clothes and his own shampoo on the way. When he emerged refreshed and marginally more awake thirty minutes later, it was to the smell of bacon and eggs and the still slightly red faces of his two best friends.

“Oooh. Service and a show.” With a grin, he twisted his towel and as a joke snapped it lightly at Chris’s ass while he cooked the bacon. He snickered at the yelp that resulted, and even more at the flat eyed look of disapproval from Ashley as she sliced a loaf of bread at the counter.

“That’s it. No breakfast for you.”

“Oh come on, Ash!”

“Nope. You lost your chance. Either cook your own bacon and eggs or have a bowl of cereal.”

“You are a cruel and heartless woman, Ashley Brown. I hope you know this as you sentence me to this injustice.”

Josh gave an overly exaggerated wail of despair as he moved to steal a piece of cooked bacon from one of the plates, and was intercepted by a smack to the back of his hand from Chris’s spatula. He cradled his now grievously injured hand to his chest.

“You heard the lady. You’ve been regulated to cereal like the child you are.”

“You two are going to be the most killjoy and unfun parents ever. I will have to rescue my poor nieces and nephews from your clutches just to show them life outside of their bleak and dreary lives.” He ignored them sputtering behind him as he dug through through their makeshift pantry. “What did we do with the cereal?”

While not removing his eyes from the pan of sizzling bacon, Chris turned his head slightly to talk over his shoulder. “Check the middle shelf to the right. I think Ash put a couple of boxes there.”

“Yeah, I see those one’s Cochise, I meant the fun cereal.”

“And what exactly is wrong with Raisin Bran and Cheerios?”

“Um, everything Ash. Just, everything.”

Chris snorted, then gave another yelp when he moved to dodge some grease when the bacon popped with a sharp crack. “Top shelf. I put the good stuff up there.”

“Chris!”

With a shout of victory, Josh pulled out a box of Oreo O’s and came behind Ash to grab a bowl from the cupboard above her head and the carton of milk from the fridge next to her.

“Wait, how the hell did you manage to sneak those into the cart?”

“I wanted Oreo’s, Ash, and I was gonna get my Oreo’s one way or another,” Josh said as he poured way more then the recommended serving into the bowl and poured in a helpful amount of milk. Replacing the milk in the fridge he grabbed a spoon and sat down at the kitchen table and started to eat his bowl of pure sugar as he reclined into the cushioned back of the benches. Shortly after, Ash and Chris joined him at the table with their own plates of slightly burnt bacon, eggs, and toast. “So, sleep well?” he asked innocently.

In response, Chris and Ash both ripped off a piece of toast and threw it at his head, which Josh easily dodged with a cackle. The rest of the meal passed in relative peace, aside from the occasional minor food fight that was Josh flicking pieces of cereal at their heads, as he felt wont to do every now and then. Until, that is, Chris dropped his fork by accident and it fell to the floor with a clatter.

Swearing under his breath, Chris vanished under the table only to not reappear seconds later with said fork in hand.

“Ya doing alright down there, Cochise?”

When Chris responded back, it was with a pained edge to his voice, still under the table. “Can you two clear the table for me please.”

“You get stuck down there or something?”

“Just, just clear the table.”

Giving Ash a look of confusion similar to the one she was giving him, the two of them nonetheless cleared the table of all dishes, cutlery, cups, and ketchup that rested on it. With a grunt of effort, Chris extracted himself from beneath the table. And then, giving an extremely pained long-suffering sigh, put his hand underneath the table top and something mechanical snapped. In silence, they could only watch as the table slowly collapsed down to rest on what everyone now noticed to be the slightly lowered edges of the u-shaped benches, making a completely flat surface.

Without a word, it was Ash who reached for the cushioned backs of the benches and was easily able to rip them from their velcro and laid them across the newly flat surface. The three of them could only stare nonplussed and quiet at what was obviously a second bed. The burnt bacon and soggy cereal now long forgotten on the counter top behind them.

“I call dibs on the Table Bed.”

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #josh washington #ashley brown #chris hartley #chrashley #a day late again #i have discovered the need for the chaos that is the nerd trio grocery shopping #i needed a fic detailing this yesterday #i am not getting the point of these being short drabbles #how the hell are each of these ending up so long?

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sinemoras09 · 4 years

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solatium excerpt: personality

More ficlets: Obito and Kakashi fight over barbecue. Obito deals with Madara, and then zombies. Kakashi makes fun of Obito’s wardrobe. Rin and Obito share an inside joke. Rin helps Obito after a bad day. Fluff and crack. @innovativestruggles

(Series of unrelated ficlets. Obito is Hokage. Rin is resurrected and living with him. Madara is married to fem Hashi and has a boatload of kids. Ficlet #7 references the marriage certificate drabble.)

----

She was Obito’s guardian spirit, but sometimes Kakashi would pray in front of her headstone, and Rin would feel her consciousness being ripped away from him. All at once she'd be in the middle of a bright, grassy field, the sun shining on the graveyard while Kakashi laid flowers and an ero book as an offering. "It's a new volume, Rin," Kakashi would say, because she was the one who read ero books first, and he'd set the book down in front of her grave.

Rin would look around and see blue skies and white clouds, birds singing overhead. And then she'd feel Obito calling to her again, and all at once she'd be transported, find herself in dark spaces, cold air and claustrophobic cliffs, Obito having killed another person, blood dripping down his arm as he looked up at the slate gray sky, the rain sluicing down his mask like tears. She followed him all those years because he always spoke to her - when he felt lonely, when he felt uncertain and overwhelmed - and even if she’d start to fade or drift away, she'd feel her consciousness being called toward him again.

They were transported to the gravity dimension. Rin watched, horror-struck, as Obito and Kakashi both fell to their knees, unable to stand up.

A chakra rod shot through the air, moving as if being dragged through thick molasses. She saw Kakashi and Obito running. At least let me be a shield for them! If I could just make it in time--

Rin could hear their prayers.

Her consciousness spread far, able to reach both Kakashi and Obito from across the gravity field. Her hands clasped both of theirs, and she made contact - her spirit, which was weightless and formless, suddenly had heft in this dimension, and as soon as she grabbed their hands she ran, yanking them toward the center, helping them.

I'm going to see my friends again, Rin thought. The chakra rods were hurtling towards them. I'm going to see my friends again and I could talk to both of them!

But the rod heading toward Kakashi started to swirl, and Rin could hear Obito's thoughts, just like she always did.

Rin. This time, when I get there...let's spend some time alone together, just you and me....

The rod smashed into Obito's stomach.

Kakashi would only be in the way. I'm leaving him here.

*****

The three of them are sitting over barbecue, Kakashi in charge of the meat because Obito kept taking it out too early. "That's not ready to eat, you need to let it cook more," Kakashi says, and Rin giggles as Obito grumbles that Kakashi is being a pain in the ass.

The meat sizzles. Rin picks up her glass, taking a drink of water when Kakashi asks, "Rin. Was that really you back there, in the gravity dimension?"

Obito looks up. Kakashi doesn't look at either of them, concentrating on flipping over the pieces of meat with his chopsticks. "Kaguya had launched chakra rods toward Naruto and Sasuke, and Obito and I were trying to get there in time to block them--"

"I was there, I know," Rin says. Kakashi sits back, surprised.

"Really?" Kakashi says.

"You two weren't going to make it on time, and all of a sudden my spirit had weight. I grabbed you both and pulled you there."

"Amazing." Kakashi looks at Rin, awestruck. "So you really were following him?"

"Mostly. Sometimes I'd hear you talking to me, though, and then I'd find myself back in Konoha again." Rin picks up her chopstick, then turns a piece of meat in front of her. She frowns, thoughtfully. "It was always such a change," Rin says. "Konoha was so bright, every time I'd find myself there, I'd think maybe I was in paradise. But then Obito would call to me, and it'd be like we were underground again, everything was so dark and cold and lonely. I wished I could actually be there with him."

Obito gives her a small smile. Rin rubs his arm, scooting next to him.

"Anyway, yeah," Rin says. She plucks out a piece of meat. "That was me."

"Amazing," Kakashi says again. Obito's eyes widen.

"Oi! The meat's burning!" Obito starts pulling the meat up with his chopsticks. "Bakakashi, this is why you shouldn't be in charge of grilling--"

"Wha- if you were in charge everything we'd eat would be raw!"

"Why does anyone have to be in charge anyway?" Rin says, because she was actually paying attention to the grill, her meat is cooked perfectly.

*****

If people didn't know any better - if they hadn't known Kakashi and Obito when they were kids, like Rin did - they would assume that Kakashi is the laid back one, while Obito is the serious one.

Rin watches, growing more and more amused as they slowly revert back to their old personalities, arguing over something as stupid as barbecue.

"No, Obito, it's not done yet, put it back," Kakashi says. He flips over the menu, showing them. "The rules here say you need to let it cook for at least three minutes--"

"You cook it until it's not red, I don't like eating meat that's turned into jerky," Obito says. Kakashi huffs.

"We listen to you, and we're all going to get food poisoning," Kakashi says. "It even says right here that--"

"That's just a guideline," Obito says.

"What?" Kakashi says.

"It's an approximation. The heat varies. The conductive capabilities of the grill can change. Also, the meat's not red." Obito plucks the piece out with his chopsticks.

Kakashi's eyes widen. "Baka! There's still blood on it!"

"It's medium rare."

"You order steak medium rare, you idiot, you're gonna make yourself sick!"

Rin starts giggling. The two men turn.

"Obito, you see that?" Kakashi says. "Rin is laughing because you're being stupid."

Obito grumbles, "You're the one who's stupid."

"You're both stupid," Rin says. She picks up her chopsticks. "I'm putting meat on the grill."

*****

Even with chaperones, Madara still causes problems.

"We're so sorry, Obito-san! But Madara-ojiichan acted so fast, we couldn't stop him, dattebayo!" Naruto says. Gai hangs his head.

"I am ashamed to say it, but even my Dynamic Entry of Heart-Pounding Love wasn't enough to stop him."

"It's alright, Gai, Naruto," Obito says. He glares at Madara. "This isn't your fault." Madara rolls his eyes extravagantly.

"To think that I have sunk so low as to be lectured by my idiot apprentice. There is nothing to talk about. There were no casualties," Madara says. "The only reason why I've deigned to come here is because of Hashirama."

Hashi elbows him in the ribs. Madara sniffs arrogantly.

"Madara: why the hell would you perform a fire jutsu of that size and magnitude in the middle of an elementary school playground? And then activate your Susanoo and then forcibly draw out and ride around on the Kyuubi?" In fact, there were multiple reports of Madara rampaging at the playground, riding on the Kyuubi with Naruto getting dragged along in the background. Madara shrugs.

"The idiot behind me makes it so easy, you should be talking to him," Madara says.

"Why?" Obito says. Madara crosses his arms.

"Uchiha Madara is not just some house husband."

"Oh god," Hashi says.

"That pissant father needed to be taught a lesson, and so I taught it well. He now knows never to cross me."

Hashi clarifies. "His kids were hogging the swings," Hashi says.

"This was over swings?" Obito says.

"A territorial dispute that could only be solved by a display of force." Madara crosses his arms. "I believe I schooled him thoroughly."

"I'm so sorry. They've been fighting over playground equipment for weeks, I didn't think it'd go this far, otherwise I would have gone with him," Hashi says.

Obito sighs. "At the very least, it appears nothing was damaged--"

"Of course nothing was damaged. I was in complete control at all times. And yet you call me in here like some apprehensive school marm."

*****

"Hokage-sama! We have a problem!"

"What is it?" Obito says. The shinobi rests his hands on his knees, breathless.

"There are zombies that have taken over the civilian quarter!"

"What?" Obito says.

*****

"I'm so sorry!" Hashi says. Their neighbors are cowering in Madara's Susanoo while Hashi tries sequestering the undead nin she tried bringing back. "It worked with Izuna and Rin, I thought I could bring everybody back--"

"Raaaaar!" Zombies burst through the fence, making their neighbors scream. Madara knocks them down with his battle fan.

Obito stares. "How many did you resurrect?" he says. Hashi thinks.

"Um, I think the entire shinobi army? And I tried resurrecting Minato's wife, too."

"Ahhhhh!" another zombie says. Madara kicks him in the throat and punches another one behind him.

*****

"YOSH! Who's ready to kick some zombie ass, dattebayo!"

Ino shrieks. "It's Neji! Naruto-kun! Neji's a zombie!"

Minato pushes Kushina back, his hand flat against her forehead. "This is bad," Minato says. Kushina flails, then bares her teeth at him. "This is really bad."

In the middle of it all, Uchiha Itachi stands in the civilian quarter, cracks in his skin and his sclera blackened, looking thoroughly confused.

Sasuke gasps, "Nii-san! You're not a zombie?!"

"No, I am merely undead." Itachi frowns, looking at the chaos around him. "Is the war still ongoing? Are they attacking the village?"

"RAWR!" a zombie smashes through the glass window of a cake shop, then begins stuffing its face with pastry.

"Nevermind, Little Brother, I think I know the answer."

*****

Obito walks through the village, assessing the damage. What was once the civilian square is now a bombed-out waste, buildings crumbling and the streets covered in detritus and broken glass. "Do we have any casualties?" Obito asks. Shizune flips through her notepad.

"74 people injured, zero fatalities. But reports of missing persons are still trickling in, and the damage to the village's infrastructure is quite immense."

"Tch." Obito rubs his head.

It took a platoon of ANBU nin to herd the zombies into the forest, where Hashi sealed them with her Mokuton prison. There, Itachi showed her how to negate the jutsu, and after weaving a few hand seals, the zombie nin crumbled into dust and ash. ("Won't canceling the Edo Tensei affect you too?" Hashi asked Itachi. Itachi shook his head.

"I released myself from that jutsu awhile ago."

"Oh, okay. Cool.")

"Were any houses in the residential areas affected?" Obito asks. The ANBU nin nods.

"Approximately ten percent of civilian housing got razed by the zombie attack. Most of the damage seems to be confined to the commercial areas, but we have a team already mobilizing an emergency shelter in case any residents are displaced."

"Good," Obito says. "Notify the village council. The villagers will need disaster relief. We'll have to figure out how to re-allocate funds to provide adequate aid."

"Yes, Hokage-sama." And the ANBU nin disappears into the smoke.

Outside, the civilians venture out, cleaning debris and sweeping the dust and detritus. Obito and Kakashi stand in the middle of the civilian town center, looking at the smashed up windows and thick columns of smoke.

"Wow, what a shit show," Kakashi says. He glances at Obito. "They're gonna blame you because you're Hokage, you know."

Above them, a piece of roof falls after catching on fire.

*****

"Madara is Hokage?!" Itachi's eyes widen. His hand grips his sword.

"Worry not, Little Brother," Itachi says, and he pulls out his sword in one fluid motion. "I will do what I should have done a long time ago."

"Wait wait wait wait WAIT Itachi NO!" Naruto and Sasuke have to physically block Itachi from leaving. Itachi whips around.

"What is the matter with you two? Are you under his genjutsu? Let me feel your chakra, he may have disturbed its flow--"

"That's not the real Madara dattebayo, that's the real Madara," and Naruto points to a man with a bunch of kids strapped to him, a baby chewing on his battle fan and a toddler walking on a leash. "The guy you thought was Madara is really a guy named Obito."

"What?" Itachi says. Naruto nods vigorously.

"Yeah! Old Man Madara activated the Moon's Eye, but instead of creating a new reality, he grew this giant tree that cocooned everyone and sucked up all the chakra from all the shinobi! And then this biiiiiig alien lady came and I guess she was some kind of goddess or somethin' and we all thought we were screwed but Obito woke up and was like 'what the heck is happening,' and then he HELPED US, Itachi! An' then we went to a gravity dimension and a fire dimension and Sasuke was trapped in this DESERT dimension but Obito found us and she threw these chakra rods at us but then he jumped in front of us, dattebayo!"

Itachi blinks. He turns to Sasuke.

"Can you genjutsu me with the information?"

"Yeah, sure."

*****

"You should dye your hair," Kakashi says, apropos of nothing. Obito furrows his brow.

"What, why?"

"Because for most people, white hair is distinguished, but on you it just looks weird."

Obito frowns.

*****

"Eh? Dye your hair?" Rin looks up. "Why?"

"Kakashi seems to think I look weird. That maybe I wouldn't scare off the delegates as much if I dyed my hair and used foundation on my neck and hand."

Rin looks. It's true, the patches of cloned skin can look a bit off-putting. His hand and neck are the color of an etiolated egg, translucent and criss-crossed with fine, purplish veins. And that isn't even taking into account the scars on his face, which are jarring even on a good day. Rin frowns at him. "Wouldn't the foundation rub off on your clothes, though?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"Here," she says, and she rummages through her makeup bag.

*****

On a whim, Rin goes to the convenience store to pick up some hair dye.

"I got a couple boxes so you can pick out the best color black," Rin says. Obito frowns at her.

"There's different colors of black?"

"Apparently there is."

"I feel idiotic," Obito says. Rin sets down her bag.

"For the record, I don't think you have to do this. I think your hair looks fine the way it is."

They both look at the box. "This seems complicated," Obito says.

He doesn't dye his hair.

****

Obito doesn't wear the Hokage robes.

He doesn't wear the robes. He doesn't wear the cape. He doesn't even wear the hat, even if ceremonial circumstances dictate it: he'll only hold it gingerly and then pawn it off to Kakashi. Kakashi turns the hat over in his hands, frowning. "Obito. You can't tell me wearing this hat is any worse than wearing those masks."

Obito doesn't look up from his papers. "I don't like things sitting on top of my head."

Kakashi blinks. The boulders. Right.

Kakashi leans back, looking at him. He's wearing the standard green flak jacket, but beneath that he's dressed the way he used to dress when he pretended to be Madara - black pants and a black shirt that covers his neck up to the chin, and he puts on black gloves if there's a visitor. All he would need is his orange mask.

Kakashi knows without asking why he's wearing gloves and a turtleneck - half of Obito's neck and his entire right hand is made of Hashirama's cells, so the color contrast between his face and the rest of his body is jarring.

"Obito. What did you do with all those masks, anyway?"

He turns a page. "I burned them."

"Ah."

There's only the sound of Obito's pen writing on paper.

"You really should dye your hair," Kakashi says. Obito sets his pen down and frowns at him.

*****

"EH?! Kakashi why do you have to keep picking on him?!" Rin says.

Kakashi raises his hands. "Hold on a minute, Rin-chan--"

"You're such a jerk! Obito is working really hard and all you do is make fun of him!"

Obito shakes his head. "This is word for word the same conversation we had as kids," Obito says. Kakashi and Rin turn.

"Really?" Rin says. Obito nods. Rin whirls around toward Kakashi.

"Kakashi you grew up into a jerk!"

A sweatdrop forms on Kakashi's brow "O-oi."

"Picking on Obito just because he looks weird! He can't help it!" Rin says. (She said something similar when they were kids: "Kakashi you're a jerk! Picking on Obito just because he cries a lot! He can't help it!")

"This is making me nostalgic," Minato says.

*****

"Why do you have to keep picking on him? Obito is working really hard! Just because he still can't do basic ninjutsu doesn't mean you can make fun of him!"

*****

"Kakashi be nice! So what if he cries a lot? He can't help it! He's sensitive!"

*****

"Why do you have to be such a jerk, Kakashi?! Just because he lost six times in a row doesn't mean you get to make fun of him!"

*****

"Kakashi this is like making fun of a baby, stop it!"

*****

"I mean, it's okay, not everyone gets it on the first try." A beat. "You've been working on this for a month?"

*****

"Don't apologize, Obito, I don't mind treating your wounds. You're the reason why I'm so good at suturing!"

*****

"Ne, Obito. Do you think Kakashi likes me?" (Proceeds to wax poetic about Kakashi for half an hour).

*****

The genjutsu ends. “Sorry,” Rin says.

*****

They're sitting on the couch, watching a movie, when Rin leans over.

"Ne, Obito?"

"Hm?"

"Please deactivate your ninja eyes!"

Obito starts laughing. Rin giggles and snuggles against his shoulder.

*****

It becomes an inside joke: Rin will be walking past him in the kitchen, or sitting next to him on the couch, when she'll lean over him and say, "Please deactivate your ninja eyes!"

Invariably, it makes Obito crack up, and Rin will give him a mock serious look and tell him, "Sir! Deactivate your ninja eyes! This is no laughing matter!" and it's so stupid they both end up laughing.

It's the only time Rin's seen him laugh.

*****

The Daimyo of the Land of Water is demanding reparations, and so Obito dips into his secret accounts, various Akatsuki holdings that he had disclosed to the Five Nations prior to becoming Hokage. "We demand recompense," a Kirigakure representative says. "Uchiha Obito stole from our country, depleting our wealth and lining the coffers of the Akatsuki with our money. It isn't fair that the Akatsuki's war chest be split up among the five nations at Kirigakure's expense. And lest we forget, he murdered hundreds of shinobi under the guise of being the Mizukage."

Obito stares at them, incredulous. "We already paid everything back with interest," Obito says. He gestures to the other kage. "We already agreed that what is left should go to the other four villages, Konoha included. Tsunade-sama signed the pact."

The Mizukage sniffs. "I see no reason why Konoha should profit."

Obito snaps, "The matter was settled, why is this being brought up again?"

The other kages glance uneasily at each other.

Obito sits heavily on the bed, head in his hands, frustrated. If they don't clinch the trade deal with the civilian village, Konoha will be thrown into debt. Rin sits next to him, touching his arm. "Everything okay?" she says. Wordlessly Obito lists sideways, leaning against her.

He genjutsus her and shows her the whole disastrous meeting, and Rin responds by pursing her lips and resting her hand on his head. "They haven't voted on it yet," Rin says. "Gaara and Darui openly said they'd support you."

"Onoki is still afraid I'm acting as Madara's puppet." Obito sighs, heavily. "There's only four of them and I can't vote on this, we're at a diplomatic standstill."

She rubs his back, and she can feel him start to relax. He plops his head face-first into her shoulder.

Rin lets out a startled laugh, "Obito!"

"Would it be terrible if I just genjutsu them?" His voice is muffled by her shirt. "It would be easy. No one would know."

"I thought you were trying to be a good person?" She rubs soothing circles by the nape of his neck. He moves his head to look up at her.

He reaches up, then tucks back a strand of hair that had fallen by her cheek, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing her temple. His eyes are soft. He smiles at her.

Rin gives him a puzzled smile. "What is it?" she says. Obito searches her eyes quietly.

He rests his head onto her lap, and Rin responds by resting her hand on his head, letting her fingers lightly scratch his scalp as he curls up on his side.

"Rin?"

"Yeah?"

"What would you have done if I did this when we were kids?" Obito says. Rin considers, bowing her head downward to look at him.

"I don't know," Rin says. She cards her fingers through his hair. "Probably freak out."

"Heh. I figured."

"No! I mean, I'd think that you were really injured, like maybe you were too orthostatic to keep sitting up."

Obito laughs. Rin responds by wiggling out from under his head and flopping down next to him.

They rearrange themselves so that Rin is lying on the left side of his chest, resting her head against his shoulder. Obito wraps his arms around her, propping his body slightly to the side so that he's not quite flat on his back. Rin fits her body against his, curling up into the concave hollow of his chest. He feels good and warm and she nuzzles her face against him.

"You know, I thought you'd be more upset about this," Rin says. Obito hugs her.

"I guess I haven't had much time to think about it," Obito says, and Rin realizes she's just brought up painful memories again. She sits up and starts to apologize, but Obito hugs her closer. "I tried negotiating with Onoki one-on-one. The Land of Earth is suffering crop damage from a massive drought, so I offered to open up bilateral trade agreements between their village and ours in return for his vote. He refused, and then he ratted me out to the other kage, claiming I was trying to influence him. I can't even be mad, because I was," Obito says.

"What would you do if you were in the Akatsuki?" Rin asks.

"Genjutsu them. Take I want. Maybe install a subordinate to infiltrate them. Start a whisper campaign in favor of our vote. And if that didn't work, I'd probably send one of the teams to kill them. I'd make it look like an accident, of course," Obito says, and he shifts to look at her. "Onoki would be easy. He's old - all I'd have to do is imply that he needs to do something to protect his legacy. 'Your village is suffering, and on your deathbed you will look back and have nothing but regret. Think about it,' I'd say, and then I'd disappear and let him mull it over."

"So what are you doing now?"

"Trying to convince everyone that I'm harmless and that I'm trying to do the best for the village. Ironic, because the village council doesn't trust me, either." He shifts Rin closer to his chest, then squeezes her fondly. "It's one of the reasons why I'm trying to bring the civilian villages into the fold. They don't know me. Granted, they know I have the Sharingan and they're afraid of me, but it's for an entirely different reason."

Rin feels herself start to drowse. His voice is soothing. He feels comfortable and warm and the entire time he's been talking, he's been absently running his fingertips up and down the skin of her arm. She feels him rest his cheek on her forehead. She smiles and presses a soft kiss against his throat, cuddling him sleepily. "Maybe you should listen to Kakashi," Rin says.

"What about Kakashi?"

"Wear makeup and dye your hair."

Obito scoffs. "Bakakashi is a pain in the ass."

Rin giggles. Obito reaches across her body to switch off the lamp, then shifts her weight, pulling the blankets over the both of them.

Like every night, Obito is the big spoon. Rin curls up on her side and Obito cups his body against hers, his arm draping across her torso and pulling her to his chest. He doesn't say it, but Rin knows he takes comfort in this, being able to hold her and cuddle her the rest of the night. Every so often he'll nuzzle his face into her neck or brush a soft kiss against her nape. Before, he rarely slept, relying on Hashirama's cells and sheer willpower to stay awake. He used to have nightmares, dreams where the walls would suddenly cave in, where the people he killed rose up to accuse him. Frequently he dreamt of Rin's death, and it would be as if he'd witnessed it all over again.

Sleep is comforting now, because he can sleep next to Rin, can feel her move and stir against him.

There is another round of negotiations, and Obito is caught off-guard when an Iwagakure representative asks him about the possibility of a bilateral trade agreement. Obito looks up and sees Onoki scowling, his arms crossed and his face pinched. He sees Obito and looks away dismissively. "I'm doing this for my village," Onoki says. His cape flutters as he floats over, scowling. "That's the only reason you've got my vote."

"Thank you," Obito says, and his face brightens. The other kage look and whisper to themselves. They had never seen the Sixth Hokage crack a smile.

#lol okay that was the last one #sorry for the fic spam #i don't normally post all this stuff here #but since i had the other stuff i thought why not #birdsong #solatium #obirin #uchiha obito #nohara rin #my crappy fic

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