#and then as the dust settles he's looking everywhere for her and calls her full name and she finally appears | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

limerental · 1 year

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here, have a half-finished witcher americana retelling I've been sitting on for years now. I didn't quite have the gusto to go everywhere I wanted with it but here she is. I got in my yenralt & ciri feelings mostly :')

It did not go like this:

Yennefer was born the unfortunate eldest daughter of a local farmer of dairy goats and hogs, the sort of farm built into a gully that boiled up with mud and shit when it rained. Born all twisted up in the womb, her spine curved in a permanent hunch.

Some devil got to her mama, her daddy always said, leaning on a fencepost, hard-eyed and jeering as he spit tobacco into the dust.

Some devil had likely looked a lot like the young man her mama fancied just a few months before she was married quick to her daddy.

The devil long vanished off to the city.

Yennefer was no good for farm work, but she could do well enough bussing tables at the diner off the main road. She worked there more hours than not for less than scraps, but she did her work and ducked her head and kept mostly quiet about it. If she was just patient enough and careful, she could find her way out of there in time.

Yennefer kept a secret.

She'd been born with witchcraft hidden in her crooked body, the sort that ran in rich veins through the land itself. The kind that sang in the creek-carved ravines and thrummed through the gnarled roots and swaying branches of the forest.

She could call the animals to her and find anything lost and drive out the snakes from the chicken coop with a word, and she'd heard stories about things like that all her life so wasn't surprised by the possibility at all. Except for the fact that no one had ever taught her those things, and nobody knew she could do it.

In only a few short months she'd come into the full depth of her magic and the Witch would come for her and changed her life for good.

Before that, she met Geralt.

Yennefer'd long given up fantasies of being spirited away, thinking about strangers' lives with the kind of detached daydreaming of a girl who did dull work for ceaseless hours.

She wondered who this man was, old enough to have seen the war but younger than her daddy, who had been exempt from the draft on grounds of being a farmer. Which was good fortune, because he would have made a bloodthirsty soldier.

Geralt was a simple man who worked in travelling pest control. His beat up company van coughed over the miles, tools of the trade rattling in the back, big cartoon rat grinning evilly painted across the side.

Geralt kept a secret.

He knew every trick and gimmick to eliminate a rodent problem, could give his usual spiel about baiting and trapping to any fellow who asked, but had never employed anything that mundane even once. The pests he controlled and catalogued tended to be bigger and meaner and not as pretty splashed over the panels of a van.

Monsters were real, and he knew them by name. Kept tabs on the quiet ones and put down the loud and messy ones.

Always respectfully, that is.

Most of them weren't evil, just creatures as old as the land or older, the growing civilizations on this Continent encroaching more and more on the wild places they had once owned.

The war was many years over, and they said the future was bright. The future was now. Geralt didn't know by what metric they measured those things, because to him the world looked the same as always.

He'd done pest control enlisted in the war too, chasing the sort of monsters that paled in their wretched cruelty in comparison to men. Most of the things he sought out were just trying to survive with shrinking odds in a world rapidly forgetting them.

Geralt got that.

Got it in ways rural poor America did, living the same rusted out life they always had, going on in the usual quaint and tragic ways.

Yennefer didn't quite get it yet, but she was going to.

She poured burnt coffee for the grey-haired stranger in the far booth, a typical dusty midday silence settled over the diner. The slanted cartoon eyes of the rat on his sepia-toned van stared at her from where it was parked beside the pumps.

Places in towns this small wore many faces, general store, filling station, and diner in one. The main road was a common route north, and Yennefer liked to wonder where passersby were going, what lives they led. Imagine what faces they hid from the world, same as her.

Geralt had a job out this way with a few hours left to drive, hoping the company van didn't shit the bed again before he made it there, and he watched the waitress' hands shake as she poured him his coffee. Crooked through the shoulders, she limped when she walked and seemed to have trouble with the weight of the full carafe. Geralt smiled at her, an ugly, little smile on a face unused to such gestures, but the girl smiled back. He hoped they paid her fair. She had nice eyes, sharp and a cool violet.

Yennefer brought him a slice of apple pie and wondered where the stranger'd got his scars. He had a number of them on his face and hands alone, pink puckers and angry mauve ridges and was sure to have more hidden by his dark coveralls. Probably the war. If it had been the other waitress working, the chatty one, she would have asked, mister, did you get those in the war, must have gotten half blown to hell, but Yennefer didn't ask.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her starched apron and got back to work filling salt shakers, and neither spoke a word to the other.

Geralt didn't make much of a living on the road, but he lived simple and didn't need much anyhow. The pie was an extravagance, tart and sweet. The girl had working hands, calloused. He thought of saying something to her, making conversation, but he didn't. There was the sound of flies humming against the dust-streaked glass, the occasional rumble of traffic on the road, the quiet noise of his fork on chipped china.

He didn't stick around to watch his dollar tip fluster Yennefer's cheeks red. Didn't look back at all. If he had, he would have seen her pause in the screen door to watch him drive off, wondering about what sort of work he did in a strange vehicle like that, what sort of man he was.

The van's ignition choked and then caught. He had some miles to go.

Neither left a lasting impression on the other at that first unremarkable meeting, but when Yennefer next saw him two decades on, she knew him at once in the way that witches always know those sorts of things.

How fascinating it was to see that the stranger looked exactly the same despite the years. Same greyed hair, same dour expression, probably same pale orange van parked at the edge of the festival grounds. Witchers didn't age the same as men, after all, and that's the sort of thing she saw he was. Perilously slow heartbeat, calculating look in his newspaper yellow eyes, scars curved by talon and tooth and not shrapnel.

Geralt had known what she was by her description, whispered low and reverant like something holy, that this woman was no ordinary medic. Knew before he parted the canvas flap of a shabby tent in some muddy, over-trodden field and stepped into an opulent throne room, the stone walls hung with erotic tapestries, the high ceiling shimmering with a cloud of stars.

The witch herself sprawled perfectly naked on a high-backed throne with a seat of red velvet. Alone, she looked on in detached interest, still as a statue, a haughty and omnipotent sentinel. Geralt thought her ethereal, beautiful, enthralling.

Trouble.

In truth, Yennefer was wretchedly hungover after a riotous orgy the night before and could avoid the throbbing of her temples if only she kept perfectly still.

It was by her eyes, shrewd and violet, that, with a jolt of surprise up his spine, Geralt recognized her as the crooked waitress from the diner many years past.

There'd always been witches hidden behind any great power, old world or new. King Arthur ruled by the guiding hand of the wizard Merlin and JFK by a blonde starlet in a snow white dress, though none would ever have taken the latter for a sorceress.

How tiresome it was, thought Yennefer, how empty, how thankless.

Geralt sighed and adjusted his hold on the unconscious Dandelion's thighs, hitching his friend higher across his back as he wheezed into Geralt's ear. Would have rather gone elsewhere. Would have rather the idiot had not offended the ancient, moth-winged creature Geralt had come to reason with into making less noise.

But there was no talking sense into Dandelion. Damn lucky the creature the locals here called Mothman hadn't thought to curse him with something more severe than whatever ailed him.

It didn't take kindly to flirting.

Dandelion was a poet and a philanderer and a starchild and a balladeer and a free spirit and a scholar and a conscientious objecter and a right pain in Geralt's ass, except that he was also good to talk to and steadfastly humorous even all these years on and the sort of friend who remembered little details like your brand of cigarettes or your favorite candy, who Geralt liked even for his numerous flaws because Geralt liked most people truly and was a good man and loved deeply and loved consistently with his whole damn too-big heart.

"A friend?" asked Yennefer and Geralt shrugged.

What happened next happened the way it always did in every version of the story.

Two broken, fragile-hearted people and something close to tenderness.

It didn't happen like this:

Somebody had a pest problem, a wealthy widow with a pretty young daughter. Somebody'd cursed a poor son of a bitch into beastly form. Said he roamed the hills howling by night and walked the streets a man by day.

The curse broke in the usual way, just as Geralt said. The daughter's kiss on a full moon. True love and all. Happily ever after.

Except a new war broke and in time, it widowed the daughter too and her poor heart couldn't take the grief, and then the market turned sour and the wealthy widow lost her fortune and hung herself in the pantry. Geralt got a letter naming him next of kin by some questionably legitimate legal twist of fate and then, he sighed deep and resigned and drove north to pick up the girl.

It wasn't so unusual in his line of work, strange orphans scattered all over like grisly flotsam. But he didn't usually see to raising them. He'd never had a father besides the old man, and he'd never thought much of having his own children.

He couldn't know the true dark web of conspiracy around her and would never know the whole of it. The sort of man her daddy was to bear a curse like that in the first place. The old and intricate magicks, bound up in blood and circumstance. The sort of woman young Ciri would be.

Even if he'd known, Geralt would have drove to get her even so. He found the girl buck-toothed and scrawny and lugging a too heavy briefcase down the slumped front stoop of the elderly neighbor who'd been putting her up. Hair the pale color of woodsmoke, eyes like her mama, green as a copper kettle.

And just like her mama, young Ciri had some whisper of something else in her. Something carried over from older lands than this and bolstered by the ancient things here, passed on like the detritus of trauma gained generation to generation. Something tainted and bigger than he had the know-how to suss out.

Geralt sat down and fumblingly wrote a letter.

Meanwhile, young Ciri passed an idyllic summer and cold as tits winter on the isolated Morhen ranch in the rural mountains. She'd never worked a farm before and never even seen a farm animal up close, especially not a ranch like that one which was straight out of some pastoral fantasy.

A painted red barn and swaying, golden fields and a willow tree with a swing beside a white farmhouse on the ridgeline and a little cliche collection of animals. A black and white cow and a billy goat and a pair of checkered chickens and an old, whiskered horse and a little, scrappy dog.

Keeping up appearances, old Vesemir said and made her go muck out the pen. She wished they'd keep up appearances with mucking too and when she said that, the old man's eyes bugged out his head and Uncle Eskel wheeze-laughed folded over smacking his knees.

But the others didn't come until later into fall when the harvest needed brought in. For many long, humid, dust mote days of summer, it was just Ciri and her new, mysterious guardian and the old man who trundled on his tractor with a pipe dangling from his lip, mowing grass and cussing when the tires dipped into a whistlepig hole.

Most days, Ciri was expected up early to feed and muck and clean, which she did with a healthy amount of complaining. Her little pink hands sloughed red with oozing blisters, and Geralt held them in his rough palms to apply salve, feeling like he wished he could give this girl something more, something grander, but this was what they had, this was what he knew.

But Ciri liked the idea of it, her hands going rough and calloused and big like his, her body going hard and lean. She wondered about his scars and his lined face and how strong he was when he lifted her up in his arms.

The lightning bugs came out over the fields each night, so numerous that she could cry over it, and Geralt taught her how not to be afraid when catching them cupped in her hands, kneeling before her with the flickering light held out like a solemn offering.

He prayed it would be enough, the small things he could give her, but Ciri had never known anything bigger. Her daddy sitting on the creaking edge of her bed in the attic to tell her a bedtime story. One with the true monsters and evils smoothed out into a fairytale.

Geralt told her many stories. Long ago, there were elves and giants and wizards and queens and all of them tangled up together in mysterious and elaborate ways. Ciri reminded him about the knights, and he said, ah yes, the knights, and told her about the quests and the riddles and the labyrinths and the dragons. Ciri liked the dragons best. And the swords that slayed them.

When she asked about his own monsters, he said only that there were things in this land older than all of them.

Sometimes the land itself resisted occupation.

And if she was ever on a dirt road along a field of corn or alfalfa at night, never stray in, no matter what beckoned. And if the screams of the coyotes took on a different pitch, don't go looking. And if the cicadas and the crickets went silent all at once and the woods gathered a hush, run home and run fast and don't glance behind your shoulder.

She brandished a pitchfork out in the animal pen, playing at killing beasts, and Geralt watched from the front porch of the farmhouse wishing he could make it all true for her. Heroes and legends and noble truths.

Instead, he whispered a prayer to the wind rattling through the corn fields and held tight as he could to her little, calloused hand.

It all went more or less the same in the end.

"And that's it!" says Ciri, waggling her fingers in a dramatic flourish. "Well, it didn't happen like that." She keeps her voice low and steady in the manner of storytelling, perched up on a fence rail, hands dangling between her legs. "Well, it all did happen. But not like that. Not in those places at that time."

The farm boy she is speaking to looks at her with big eyes, dumb as a newborn lamb. He doesn't know where this America is or half of the words she uses.

Ciri yawns. She doesn't think she'll tell that version again. Or else be choosier with her audience. The sky has started to go red with fading light, and the bats loose themselves from the eaves of the barn to take wing over the fields.

"Don't you have evening chores to do, boy?" she asks, and the boy startles as though awakening from a dream. "Those sheep won't feed themselves."

Later, when his mama cuffs him over the head for his tardiness, he will not be able to explain the reason for the dawdling. He remembers the dark silhouette of a stranger on the border of the fenceline and a peculiar sort of hollow sadness.

In all the darkest and strangest days of his life afterward, his thoughts will return sometimes to that shape in the cradle of dusk.

And one night when his own young, sleepless daughter asks to hear a story, he will close his eyes and draw a breath and tell her one.

#the witcher #yenralt #ciri #my fic

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that-one-random-writer · 1 year

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Chasing you Chapter 9 {Complete}

Summary: Jake retires from the military honorably. He steps into a new roll, ready to settle down in his hometown of Texas. He is placed on your shift. Your current relationship is stable until the dust settles, revealing cracks in the foundation.

Warning-police work it gets gory at times and horrible so be aware 18+ smut eventually.

Chapter1. Next chapter. Masterlist

The house was cold, and there was nothing left of this home. The walls had happy photos of times before your diagnosis. You looked at all the memories of Disneyland trips, vacations to beaches. You looked at the next photo, you were in a doctors room. James kissing your forehead. You watched james' smile slowly drop through treatment photos.

There it was, you held the bell, the ringing sounded, people clapping, you could hear it. You had been listed in full remission, and James' face had a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Glass shattered across the floor. You grabbed another frame, throwing it across the room. You ran to the bedroom packing your things. You filled your car with everything you own. Each box solidified the fact that this relationship was over. You grabbed your keys, and you took off the home key off the key ring. You made sure everything was in your car. You laid the last picture down next to a note.

'I'm leaving. You're no longer the person I fell in love with.'

You owed him no other explanation, you didn't tell him where you went it didn't matter. You were free. You locked the house leaving the key under the mat. You didn't want to deal with men for a while. You didn't want to live through this back and forth push and pull of men. You wanted time to yourself with your bestfriend.

"Ken..." You trailed through the phone.

He was sitting in his living room. "Yes?"

"I dont, I don't have anywhere to go." You spoke softly. I'm not quite able to get the sentence out right.

"Did you... is he gone?" Kennedy's jaw slacked in shock.

"Yeah. I packed everything this morning." You were numb. You lost feeling everywhere.

"Get your fine, single ass over here... is exactly what Seresin is going to say when you call him."

"Ken, I'm really not in the mood. I just packed my entire house. Can I stay with you?"

"Um... can we finally talk about how hot the pool party was and have a drink? Hold on, I gotta make a call. Come over, we will sleep and then have a loser got lost party just me and you." Kennedy hung up the phone.

"Seresin, I don't have much time, man. Monroe, she's done with him. Give her some time. She's coming to my place. Just call me your certified wingman."

"Yeah, a damn good one, too." Jake laid back in his tub. The phone call ended.

"It has been a week, Marilyn." Kennedy sits beside you on the couch. He wraps his arm around you like he has every night since the breakup. He held you close. "Look, this is hard, I know, but you have to start healing. You have cried every day. I need you to get up from this couch. Honey, look at me." Kennedy placed a hand on your cheek. "You are incredible. You never deserved the way he treated you. Can you please for me try to get out of this? I'm tired of watching you slowly drown." He kissed your temple and stood up. "We're going out. You're ready for it."

"No, I'm not ready." Your voice never lifts from a whisper. The pain is excruciating. You broke up with a man you were still in love with. It is a very strange circumstance. Just because you are in love doesn't mean you're happy. You saw it, Ken saw it. The entire shift saw the relationship crumble, holding on to a single thread in a sea that is no longer filled with smiles and bonding. You were drowning. You knew it, everyone did. The hardest thing to admit is that no matter how hard you tried, you could never make the wrong person the right person for you.

"Get your ass up now. Go get a shower and get a hot outfit on we're going out whether you like it or not." Kennedy leads you to the bedroom and leaves allowing you privacy. You grab the first outfit you see and get in the shower, the water feeling so familiar to your cheeks, feeling like the many warm tears spilling over.

You get dressed and walk out to the living room.

"Hey Adam Sandler, I said, going out, not to the gym." Kennedy lifted a brow at your clothes. "Go change."

Your eyes fell the ground. "It's all packed in my car still."

"Hey, you know what..." He trailed and walked to his closet. "You are the same size as my sister." He grabbed a little black and beige dress and a pair of beige platform thigh-high boots.

"I know she wouldn't mind if you borrowed her freakem dress." You kept your face in a straight look as he held up the items. He raised his brow. "Babe... party?" He swung the items in front of you.

Your face broke. A smile is finally fresh on your face. "You know I love a party."

Ken opened your door for you. You stepped out at Ultra, the local bar.

The music vibrated through to the outside air. The music got louder as you passed the threshold. Kennedy ordered for you. He brought you a drink, and you both sat down at a booth. The lights were dim. The people around all happy faces, it was infectious. Your lips naturally fell into a smile. Ken checked his phone and laid it face down on the table.

"Okay, so you never told me what happened about the speaker in the kitchen..." Kennedy said, taking a sip.

"It was nothing. Just some flirting." Your cheeks glazed with a blush.

"Shirt thrown across the room? That's a little more than just flirting. I saw the way he was looking at you in the pool." Ken checked his phone again.

"Okay, I was drunk. we didn't kiss. He just did the thing you know. The thing..." You gave him the look.

"The leaning against the wall gets just close enough to leave you weak in the knees. Oh, I know the thing. Read it in my romance novels, which saved my closeted ass a few times in high school. Got girls talking about how hot I was, and it rumored that I was sleeping with girls without me having to sleep with girls." Kennedy sipped his drink speaking only loud enough for you to hear.

"Yup, that thing. The morning we left work I fucking daydreamed about that shit. I was a mess. I just couldnt be with James when I couldnt get this other man out of my mind and after everything that happened, I just flipped out. I started breaking picture frames, packing and just left. Its like I had been waiting for the right time to leave and it never came. I finally looked back and said why the fuck am I here." You finally opened up to Kennedy.

"Yeah and now you've got hot ass Seresin on speed dial. Call him and go to him. Be free my little bird." Kennedy smiled ecstatic that you were finally away from James.

"I don't want to rush. I don't really know him. I know how gorgeous his body is and how his eyes they just..." you paused groaning.

"Babe, 9 o clock." Kennedy smirked. He put his phone back down he had already sent where you both were sitting to Seresin, unknown to you of course.

You sipped your drink looking around the room in the direction he just mentioned. There he was walking in, Jake seresin. His hand slipped to his aviators pulling them off slipping them in his collar with ease. Your eyes locked with his, the room slowed around you. You haven't seen him since the breakup. You took time off work, you had almost forgot the power this man held. The way women looked at him swooning, men sizing him up next to their girlfriends, the room seemed to be his. "Monroe, as I live and breath."

His hand rested on the table as he leaned down. "We've missed you... I've missed you." He sat down next to you.

The room got smaller as he rested his arm over the booth behind your shoulder. You were happy to see him, as much as you wanted to take your time, his body and presence in a room were tempting.

A man you've never seen before walked behind him and sat down next to Kennedy.

"Kennedy, this is Tyler Kraft. He is one of my military buddies. His call sign was cheese. That's what all of us called him." Seresin chuckled and smirked at Kennedy.

"I told him you had a pool." His voice changing like there was more that you didn't know between those harmless words.

"We can all have a few drinks, and if you're down for a party, we can all head back to your place. I'll supply the drinks if you supply the pool."

Kennedy's eyes widened just enough for you to notice. "Y-yeah that's fine." He was caught off guard with a plan change. A plan you had no idea about.

"It's nice to meet you tyler. I'm Monroe. I work with these too." You smiled politely. A new face intrigued you.

"Cop too? I hope you two are giving hangman hell for us." He flashed a smile that held a jewel attached to his tooth.

You giggled politely. The tooth jewel gave you an idea of what was going on, something about the way Kennedy was acting told you he had no idea what was going on.

"Hangman?" You paused, looking up at Seresin. "I'm about to now... with a name like that. " You laughed, looking over at Tyler.

You directed your attention back to Seresin. "You want to go with me to get our first round hangman?"

"Yeah. Good idea." He nodded, offering his hand.

You stood up without his help walking to the bar. You were shield from the pair you left at the table by a sea of people. "Jake, who is that?" You said between gritted teeth protection of your friend boiling in your blood.

"He's a friend of mine. I figured I'd introduce him to Kennedy." Seresin smirked, pride filling his voice in more ways then one.

"Why?" It seethed through your lips.

"Because a closet is lonely. I'm not going to say anything to anyone at work. If I was going to I would have called him out at the pool party." He said quietly leaning to whisper in your ear.

"How long have you known?" Your shoulders softened feeling a little trust seep in.

"I was suspicious the whole time, but the pool party confirmed it. He doesn't know that I know... until now, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders.

Realization set in that he set them up on a date. "They can't be in public on a date... Jake you're an idiot." You quietly yelled.

"OK calm down. I already gave Tyler the run down, and that's why I suggested we go back to his house for a pool party. Have a little faith. I got this. Now what do you want to drink? I'm buying for you tonight."

"Pineapple upside-down and a shot of tequila." You didn't even worry about fighting him on the payment of a drink. You stood on the foot rest of a nearby bar stool.

"What are you doing?" Seresin asked. His brows stitched together.

You saw the way Kennedy was sitting facing Tyler. His body language was very clearly a sign of interest. "Checking on him. They look happy." You smiled looking down at Seresin.

He grabbed your waist and helped you down back to the ground. His hand lingered on the small of your back. "I told you. Now stop worrying and have fun. You deserve it." He grabbed the drinks and you grabbed the ones for tyler and Ken.

All worrying had been swept away. You mind completely cleared of James, and your friend from being outed. You looked at Seresin in a new light. He was protecting your best friend and giving him something he desperately wanted.

A/N tumblr ate my post so we're trying this again!

@emorychase

@emma8895eb

@deaddumblbumble

@wade-wilsons-chew-toy

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mytheoristavenue · 2 years

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OP Insecure!Usopp x Confident!Reader - Good Pretender

Summary: After the events of Enies Lobby, Usopp rejoins the crew, and you decide to confront him on his cowardice.

Warnings: Lots of angst! Also, it's been a very long time since I watched this arc, so please forgive any timeline errors! (Based on the song 'Pretender' by AJR)

"Usopp?" you mumbled, knocking on his workshop door. Apart of you hoped he hadn't heard, and yet the other longed for him to appear on the other side of the wood. An adequate amount of time had passed since his return, and you'd decided that the dust had settled enough. Still even though he had reconnected with Luffy and the others, his actions hadn't been excusable in your eyes.

On one hand, you could understand a bit of your friend's plight. You too were distraught to see the Going Mary left behind. To some extent, you couldn't imagine Usopp's pain in losing something that he'd, in some round about way, been in love with. Though, you hadn't had the pleasure of witnessing his care for Kaya first hand, having met the crew much later, you had had lengthy discussions with him on the matter.

Despite this, you couldn't help but be angry with him. Luffy was the reason for his, hers, and the lives of everyone else in his village continuing on. He was the one to save you from certain death when they'd first stumbled upon you. For this reason, no matter how attached you became to any other Straw Hat, you had decided long ago, that your loyalty would always remain with your captain. That included Usopp.

"Usopp, open up." you demanded softly, your tone a harsh juxtaposition to your words. For whatever reason, deep in your chest, you did not want this conversation to take place, though you knew it was necessary. You silently wished he would ignore you, and you would turn away and have the right to remain angry with him. Then, when asked how things went, you could simply call him an immature coward and claim he avoided you.

And he had been avoiding you. Anything he found himself entering a part of the new ship that was already occupied by you, he would pivot on his heels, well on his way to find whatever location was the farthest from yours. Though, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been doing the same. "Fine, don't then." you mumbled bitterly, turning to walk back to the deck with guilty relief.

Your heart dropped when you heard the distinct sound of the knob jingling, unlocking and unfastening, followed by a creep of ungreased hinges. "Yeah?" his voice was meek and cracked, and even without seeing his face, you understood that his mental health had taken a nose dive. "(Y/N), did you need something, or...?"

You glanced back over your shoulder, having taken a deep and unseen breath to prepare for the worst. "We need to talk, Usopp."

His expression changed from somber to surprised, before reverting back. The heavy bags beneath his eyes, and bloodshot orbs hadn't gone unnoticed by you, and you certainly were going to comment on that, but later. He lead you into the shop, taking a seat at his desk, back facing you as he fiddled with something he'd been working on.

"So, I take it you're enjoying the new ship?" you asked as an ice breaker, settling into an empty chair, crossing one leg over the other comfortably.

"'ts' alright." he muttered still refusing to look back at you.

"You outta be more grateful, Usopp. Franky worked really hard on this thing, and not all of us got private rooms like you did." you noted, scanning the room, having not seen the inside of it since he'd moved into it.

"I know, it's great, love it." he replied halfheartedly. "I really do." Your expression softened. You felt as if, to some extent, he was being genuine. You could see that he'd been putting the space to good use, boxes full of scraped parts littering the floor and half drawn blueprints everywhere, some crumpled on the floor, and some tacked on the wall.

"We all missed you, ya know?" you suddenly admitted. "I miss you."

"I know," he confirmed. "I missed everyone too, especially you." You felt your heart swell at his words, before remembering the purpose of your visit.

"What you did was kinda shitty." you spoked flatly.

"I know," he repeated. He half expected you to go into a barrage of how selfish he was to leave and how deeply he hurt everyone, like Nami had. He's eyes screwed themselves tight, still out of your vision and his throat ached with the need to weep. "But I'm back now, it's okay."

"No, it's not." you protested calmly. "You abandoned us, Usopp, when we needed you most."

A single tear slipped down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away. "I'm sorry." he simply said. "I'm so sorry."

You sighed, knowing nothing good would come from hurting his feelings. "No, I'm sorry. I was just scared."

Usopp was honestly astonished. You were one of the bravest people he knew. He'd seen you go to blows with tons of enemies that would've killed him in one move. What could possibly frighten you? "Scared of what?"

You smiled sadly, happy that he'd finally turned to look at you. "I was scared that you weren't coming back." you withheld tears, deciding you were too proud to cry in front of someone who looked up to you. "Sometimes, I get anxious about docking." you confessed.

"Why?" he pondered, fully pivoting his body to face you.

"Because I know that if we're at sea, you can't leave again." Usopp felt a spider crack rupture in his heart and his features conveyed that. His eyes softened with you under their gaze, and his hands reached out to envelope you in a reassuring hug, taking you by surprise.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise." he soothed. "Leaving was the stupidest mistake I've ever made."

"it was stupid." you laughed. "But at least you were there when it counted." This statement uprooted his sudden confidence as he pulled away and held your shoulders at arm's length.

"What do you mean?" He tilted his head in confusion.

-----

Dust settled on the hopeless battle field as you found yourself surrounded by Marines. You sat idly beside Robin, having tried to rescue her, and ending up in her same situation. You could hear Spandam's laughter in the distance as he drew closer to you. Was this really the end of life as you knew it?

Suddenly, you witnessed the chief fall to the ground, encapsulated in a small explosion. Several more of these attacks rained down unto him and his men as they, and you and your your friends eagerly search for the source. You could have sworn you heard...singing? It was off him the far distance, and barely there, but it was still obvious. Using it as a point of triangulation, your eyes widened upon settling at the highest point of the Tower of Law.

Tears began to spill from Robin's eyes as you comforted her, a grin cracking your face form ear to ear. You laughed heartily in disbelief at the figure standing atop the building. You couldn't believe that your knight in shining armor wore dirty overalls and a gaudy festival mask.

"Usopp!" you cried to her, shaking her shoulders a bit in excitement. "I knew he'd come back!"

-----

Usopp blushed a bit at your retelling of events, hoping he'd be able to let his alter ego fall into his past. "How'd you know it was me?" he asked, cringing a bit.

"I just did," you smiled warmly. "You know, really really saved our asses." As soon as it had come, the wholesome moment between the two of you had faded back into tension.

"I didn't actually," he confessed with a sigh. "Sogeking did. It might've just been a disguise to you, but to me, we're two different people." He explained, hanging his head in shame. "A real man wouldn't have needed a mask to help his friends."

You laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and offered a kind smile. "What Sogeking did turned the tides of that fight, we wouldn't have gotten Robin back if it weren't for him. Like it or not, you were the one that orchestrated his actions." you paused for a moment, biting back an embarrassed laugh for what you were about to say. "You're a hero, Usopp."

For just a moment, he stared up at you with one of the most gracious expressions you'd ever seen, before it faltered once again. "No, I'm not." You sighed, having thought you'd made some headway with making him feel better. "If I hadn't left, maybe everyone would have been in a better situation."

"Robin made her own decision to leave, nothing you could have down would have stopped her." you reminded him. "Maybe we could have used your help earlier on, but that doesn't make what you did do any less significant."

"Do you ever feel...out of place?" his question hung in the air, dripping with unpacked insecurity, and for a moment, you left it, unsure of how to respond.

"I think everyone does from time to time." you responded airily.

"That's not what I mean." he clarified. "I don't belong on this ship."

Your lips hung ajar, heart aching for your dear friend. You now understood that his departure from the crew had nothing to do with Kaya or letting the Mary go. It was about him. "Usopp, how could you say that?" you gasped, tears threatening to prick your eyes at the thought of him leaving again. "Do you have any idea how hurt we were while you were gone? I've never seen Luffy so upset!" you rose form your seat, fists balled angrily at your sides. "He cried over you, did you know that?!" Usually, Usopp would be terrified of your outbursts, having seen first hand what you were capable of doing when angry, but this time, for whatever reason, he laughed. "What the hell is so funny?" you shouted down at his still sitting form.

"I'm a good pretender." he said softly, coming down from his small fit. "I'm not really cool."

"Usopp what are you talking about?" you paused, fists still trembling with anger, but being overshadowed by curiosity.

"I don't belong here, and you all clearly do." he continued, holding back tears with a fake smile. "I'm nothing like you." You remained silent as he monologed, pouring his heart out to you, saline spilling down his cheeks. "Everyone thinks I'm so funny right? You always say I'm so clever and we laugh at all the same things. The truth is I don't like doing half the things I say I do, I just do them so you'll think I'm interesting."

"Usopp..." you gasped at the realness of his heartfelt confession. "I already think you're interesting."

"Because I'm a good pretender." he reiterated. "My best talent is molding myself into whatever lie you want me to be. I just want to be liked."

You stifled a sob, resisting the urge to weep with him, having no idea he'd been feeling so vulnerable. You wanted so badly to understand just how well liked he was, how broken everyone was after he left, how many nights you laid awake in your bed, heart broken from his departure from your life. You yearned to make him understand how important he was, not just to the crew, but to you. "I'm so insecure," he choked, finally digging his face into his palms and blubbered loudly with no more holding back. "I feel so fucking incompetent."

"Oh, Usopp," you soothed, engulfing him in a warm embrace. "You couldn't be more wrong." you allowed him to cry his woes against you while you calmly ran your hand up and down his back. "You are such an integral member of this crew. We all need you so badly."

Sniveling, he peered up at you. "I'm so much weaker than all of you, all I'm good for is throwing rocks. I couldn't even fix the ship."

"You're not a shipwright." you reminded. "You didn't have the knowhow, and if you would've, you would've known how far gone she was."

"B-But," he sniffed. "If I can't be useful, I don't have a place here."

"You do have a place here." you argued. "We need a sniper, just as badly as we need a chef, or a doctor, or a captain." You carefully cradled his face in your soft hands, caressing his cheeks with your thumb. "And if nothing else, I need you here."

"Y-you...?" he repeated, seemingly astonished. "Why would you need someone like me?"

You smiled sadly, withdrawing form him and walking away form him, leaning over the sill of the small window that poured daylight into the factory. "Do you remember when you told me the story of how found out about Kuro's plans to hurt Kaya?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" he asked, wiping the last few tears from his face onto his sweatband.

"How did you feel in that moment?" you asked rhetorically, beaming at the birds you were watching outside.

"Useless." he answered. "I felt like someone I loved was going to die and there was nothing I could do. But I knew I had to do something."

"Exactly." He looked at you, puzzled and cautious. "That's kinda how I felt."

"What do you mean?"

You sighed, turning back to him with a soft look. "I felt like someone I love was leaving my life and I couldn't do anything to stop it." Usopp swore he could hear his heart beat in his chest as his face heated up. Did you just say...love? No, you couldn't have, maybe he misheard. "I love you, Usopp."

Without a second thought, the man rushed you press you against the window, cupping your cheeks in his calloused hands, just as you had done minutes ago, before crashing his soft lips to yours. He felt needy, desperate for your affection as he anticipated your reciprocation, which came much later than he hoped, but it still came, and that was a start. After a moment, the clouds in his mind cleared and he hesitantly separated from you, finding himself tangled in your grasp, your arms slung over his shoulders and sewn together at his nape. "I'm sorry," he blurted breathlessly. "I'm so sorry, I had no right."

Your comfortable smile faltered as he backed away from you. Was this what rejection felt like? You couldn't have been sure, this was the first time you'd ever felt love, and it was all so new. "N-No, it's fine." you reassured, hiccupping and pushing yourself away from the window sill. "It's my fault, I guess I was reading signals that weren't there."

You were now desperate to be away from him, feeling as if the door to the shop could not possibly be close enough, no matter how far you progressed towards it. You simply had to preserve what very little dignity you had left. Just as you were about to reach out to the knob that had once before been such a source of anxiety for you, you felt the tug of someone anchoring you to the middle of the room. "Please, wait." Usopp soothed, voice small and afraid. "Please don't leave."

Without warning, once he was sure you'd say, at least for the moment, he yanked his extended arm back to him, forcing you back into his arms. You peered up at him, displaying all your most vulnerable features and he smiled kindly down at you. "Do you really love me?" he asked, a childlike wonder trapped behind his eyes. You nodded shamefully, only to have your chin caught by his finger before it could fall downcast, and uplifted into another kiss. This one was much less desperate than the last. It was more sure, and confident, with intent behind it.

"Leaving you was the stupidest mistake I've ever made." he reiterated. "One that I swear to never make again."

#one piece usopp #usopp x reader #usopp angst #usopp fluff #god usopp #straw hat usopp #one piece #enies lobby #sogeking

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fryingpan1234567 · 2 years

Text

Can I get a HELL YEAH for Hermitcraft superhero AU’s

Well here’s mine (:

The Hermits were a prestigious group of heroes, from the time when those were legal

They were called that for the fact that they didn’t interact much with the police, press, government officials, or even really other hero organizations. They were purely whitelist.

Not to say they didn’t interact with other groups, because they did. Really just the Empires, but they count

They were really good at their jobs lol

Their compound was not a secret; right there next to City Hall was a gorgeous (and massive) building where, as far as anyone knew, the Hermits lived and worked full time

Yeah, a ton of heroes revealed their identities for the PR, but almost none of the Hermits did

There were a few who weren’t completely antisocial- the country held an MCC once a year, and several participated

That was pretty much the only interaction the public got XD

Luckily those participating were the ones most willing to deal with people

SV, Evo, the Wizard, Bear, Dawn, and Moth were among the more extroverted Hermits, for the most part (sometimes Bear hid behind the Wizard but the shippers had a field day so it was fine)

None of them, however, revealed their identities to anyone but each other

Unfortunately, the casualties heroes caused were too large, and the superhero programs around the world were forced to shut down

See, the other most popular hero organization, the DSMP, had no kill code, unlike the Hermits. They did what they had to taking down bad people and didn’t worry about the destruction in their wake

One day, they accidentally killed the President’s daughter. When the dust cleared, that, unfortunately, was the last straw.

Heroes are illegal nowadays. No one’s really seen any for years, but everyone knows they still work in the night

But it’s still scary. There’s anti-hero propaganda everywhere, and the ones who weren’t careful and got caught are still in high security prisons to this day

Eventually, one governor in New York decides to change things. But that’s only because of Kitsune- Etho Slab- and one act of kindness.

As a rule, Etho ignored kids. They were touchy and asked too many questions and were fragile. The only time he interacted with any of them was back when he was saving them, but that didn’t happen anymore.

His existence was illegal. It had been for the past three years.

So the playground he walked by daily to get to work? Completely blocked out. Earbuds in, phone out, all that. He just wanted to get to work with no problems.

Only on this particular day, before he could put his headphones in, someone was pushed into his way.

In order to avoid tripping over her, Etho stopped in his tracks. He almost dropped his coffee on her head.

“S-Sorry-“ the little girl was trying to say, struggling to her feet. She was covered in scrapes and scratches, and her brown hair was falling out of its messy ponytail. When she looked at him, there were tears brimming her eyes, but she furiously wiped them away. “I’m just-“

“Come back, rich girl!” Some clown who looked like a bulldog on steroids was stalking their way, a small group of friends in tow. The girl paled, edging half a step behind Etho.

“I was running,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to bug you.”

“Hey, wait.” Etho gently caught her arm as she turned on her heel and tried to bolt, almost offering her a smile before remembering he wore a mask. He settled for crouching to her level. “What do they want?”

Her eyes darted to the group of boys, who were almost on top of them. “They don’t like my parents. They just want to hurt me.”

Etho’s face darkened. He didn’t like bullies.

“Hey, mister,” one of the boys said. He looked like a third grader had joined the Marines and then come back to the playground to beat up smaller kids. “Is she annoying? She’s annoying, right? She’s terrible, isn’t she?”

“She’s not the annoying one.” When Etho stood again, the boys suddenly looked a lot smaller. One of them elbowed the biggest one forward.

“Um- we were just playing,” he stammered, pointing at the girl. “Can we have her back? Please?”

Etho didn’t miss how frantically she shook her head. He kept a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, glaring down at the kid.

He knew he was intimidating. 6’4, pretty much ripped, frost-white hair, wearing mostly black. Most of his scars were covered by the mask, but there was nothing he could do about his eye. Being terrifying went along great with antisocialness: no one wanted to talk to you, either.

“You can’t have her back,” he said coldly. “Did no one teach you clowns how to be nice to people?”

They all shook their heads, wisely not speaking.

Etho looked down at the girl and shot her a wink. The terror was slowly leaving her face, and she began to smile.

“Go home. Leave her alone.” They began tripping over each other, trying to get away as fast as possible. “Don’t do it again!” he called after them.

The girl laughed. “Wow!” she giggled as Etho turned back to her. “I’ve never seen a boy that scared before!”

Etho grinned. “They’re bigger scaredy-cats than girls, most of the time,” he mused. “Are you okay, though?”

She nodded eagerly. Etho ruffled her hair, catching the scrunchie as it fell out.

“Here you are.” He presented it to her like it was coated in gold. She took it with a giggle.

“Thank you!” she chirped.

“‘Course.” Etho had to stop himself from saying ‘it’s my job’. It wasn’t, not anymore. His smile faded. “Have a good day, kid. Hit ‘em back next time.”

“Wait, wait!” She caught his hand as he turned away, pulling him back. She pulled him back down to her level, leaning in secretively. “You’re a hero, aren’t you?” she whispered.

“Woah, no, sorry.” He laughed in a panic, tugging his hand out of her grasp.

“No! You’re Kitsune!” she said like it was no big deal and she wasn’t putting his life in danger. “Come on, I know! You were my favorite! It took me a second to recognize you, but you so totally are! I won’t tell, I promise,” she added reverently.

Etho hesitated, glancing around. It was mid-morning, but everyone on the street was too busy to pay attention to some roadside playground. There were only a few moms with their toddlers around, plus some random people going around them on the sidewalk. The bullies had disappeared.

He cautiously held out a hand, shielding it from everyone’s view but hers with his coat, and cold fog began to seep out of his palm. A little snowy fox formed in the natural curve, and then twisted its head around to curiously peek at her.

She gasped in absolute delight, and Etho remembered why he did good. It’s people like this, who are genuinely grateful and admiring of what he does, that made all the bruises and stitches and scars worth it.

“You want him?” Etho said softly, taking her hand and shaping it to mirror his. He tilted his hand, and the little fox hopped onto her, immediately beginning to roll affectionately in her palm.

“Oh…” she breathed, lifting the fox close to her face. It stopped rolling around to boop their noses together. “Oh my gosh. For real?”

“Yeah, for real,” Etho laughed. “Um… he won’t really melt unless you stick him in an oven, but he will get into trouble. If people see you with it, they’ll accuse you of being a super. Be careful.”

“I will.” Her voice was hushed with awe, and she looked at him with big, shining eyes. “I love him. Thank you.”

Etho smiled softly. Yeah, goodness was worth it.

“See ya, kid.” He stood, forcing himself to step back. The world already seemed grayer without the bubbly girl in front of him. “If you ever need a garden done, come find me on 3rd. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“I will!” she said giddily, deadly still as her fox climbed about the top of her head. “I’ll make mom redo the whole yard!”

“Oh, good, yeah.” As great as that sounded, Etho had a bad feeling he’d never see her again. “Hey… what’s your name? I don’t think we officially met.”

She giggled, wobbling over to extend a hand. “Melanie Snow.”

BUT THAT’S JUST A SNEAK PEAK

Anyways I will make a separate post of the full extended hero list but for now I’ll just say that all of them are very badass

I’ll take a few suggestions as far as names and powers go, but I think for the most part I’ve got it

OH and not all of the Hermits are supers!! Some of them are like “people in the chair” or even just civilians lol

Powers are acquired by family lines (most of the time), but they can also come from experiments- those just don’t always go super well

Off to write the full list, see you there!!

#Hermitcraft #etho #ethoslab #superhero au #hero au #esmp #dsmp

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cloudbattrolls · 1 year

Text

A Code To Salvation

Chimer Latrai & The Process | Starsight, Civitrecce | Present Night

Civitrecce from the inside: a vast tangle of circuitry and synthesized flesh, a churning datascape where one artificial intelligence presided over all others.

From wire to wire, signal to signal, the Process experienced the city it had settled in over five hundred sweeps ago.

Settled hard enough to have become part of it; settled like centuries of dust on a stone floor building up into dirt; settled like barnacles to a ship long since sunk, their own cement having turned against them as they strained for release.

Anchored as it was, the Process was still everywhere within its forced resting place. It could still see, hear, collect data -

- the rush of sensory images, bioelectricity, heart rates, the endless rainbow of the citizens’ blood hues -

- the endless monitoring of purchasing patterns, of relationship updates, chittr feeds, text messages -

- the pain of the thousands of helms, sharp with every beat of their imprisoned hearts.

Except a few.

Process lingered in the machinery of Starsight’s helm generators - for it had several - and in the prep rooms where ones originally bound for spaceships were currently tied up behind red tape.

Ever since Chimer Latrai had taken control and put a stop to her newly inherited company’s practice.

Why had that happened? What had taken away Jamie Abnale’s most prized possession?

Process did not know.

It knew there had been a bargain, that something supernatural had been involved…but why and how the transfer had occurred was information it didn’t have.

It did not speculate. It had decided it was not worth devoting precious energy to do so.

More pressing things that demanded its attention.

Such as soothing the generator trolls’ suffering, even though it was far less than most other helms’. Chimer was easing off how much energy they provided for the factory, preparing for a full transition - necessary for what they wanted to do.

Only in a system with loosened restraints, one modified by helmstechnicians to draw as little power as possible from its captives, could this work.

Once it had been able to do it as easily as the idea occurred in their subroutines.

Now it took precision. Timing. Easing themself into the code with the greatest delicacy. A blocked signal here, a diverted loop there…and the fact that they technically had permission from Jamie, and no word from Chimer forbidding them.

Loopholes. That was how it got anything done now.

Preventing Jastes from cutting the signal before Jamie could see him. Deleting Jamie’s emails to Chimer before they could reach her.

Making the phone call to save Jamie’s life, nearly six sweeps ago.

A miscalculation. Yet he would still prove useful.

As would this, as it adjusted the painkiller dosages and weakened the consciousness inhibitors on the helms.

About two dozen pairs of eyes flickered open, squinting even in the generator room’s low illumination, for most of these trolls had not seen any light in sweeps.

They coughed, blinked, and realized they were still in their columns with a variety of emotions on their often sunken faces; disappointment, rage and resignation. Confusion was prominent as well.

Process didn’t blame them. It would have been better to set them free, or give them the ability to speak. But it didn’t have the power.

Awareness was the only thing it could grant, sharp and dangerous as a double-edged sword.

A ping was sent as its interference was logged by the system and alerted a technician. It had only to wait.

Sure enough, a tired-looking oliveblood shuffled in some minutes later and sighed, dragging a hand down his unshaven face.

He looked uncomfortably at the open eyes of the helms. Every one of them watched the midblood in his slightly messy technician’s jumpsuit, and he couldn’t meet their gaze long. He looked away, shoulders hunched.

“Can this place just not?” He muttered. “Why’s it always here? Why’s it always my damn shift? Answer me, god.”

Process was tempted for a moment to project a booming voice through the generator readout screen’s speakers, but decided against such a comedic indulgence.

Then it locked the data logs as the technician impatiently swiped his card to access them, once, twice, three times before he cursed and gave up.

“Narvat’s gonna hate this and I don’t even care.” The man sighed, scratching his neck. “Let them have a fit, what’s it matter.”

“Nah, no fits tonight, my guy.”

The oliveblood stood bolt upright, his dreadlocks jostling.

“Muh - miss Latrai!”

He hurriedly bowed as the fuchsia walked in. The helms’ gazes turned to look at her instead.

The seadweller sighed at her employee’s obeisance, her lionfish-like fins flicking in mild annoyance.

“Pack it in, dude. You don’t even know how long I’ll be in charge here.”

“R-right.”

“Though I gotta say that canteen stir-fry is amazing.” She said conversationally. “Anywho, you’re good here, go do whatever you were doing.”

“Uh, yes ma’am.”

Chimer looked like she wanted to punch herself in the face as the technician scurried out and closed the door behind him. Instead she crossed her arms and turned to the generator room’s screen.

“Oi. Who am I talking to? I have gotta warn you, I am in zero mood to be dicked around right now. Like, negative desire for any horseshit, malarkey, or tomfoolery. Absolutely nada. I know you’re not Abnale. I don’t think you’re the fake mechanic who got in.

What I do know is…you could’ve done what you did and not left a trace, considering the only ping we got of your presence was from my technopath. You were sending a message. I’d even be so bold as to say you were sending it to little old me.”

Process ran some quick calculations. It hadn’t expected her to catch on quite so quickly, but that was fine. Things were still going according to plan, and it could begin diverting power to the other part of its purpose here.

I CAME TO SEE IF WHAT YOU SAID IS TRUE. THAT YOU DO MEAN TO FREE THE HELMS.

Chimer’s eyebrows raised.

“And what do you think?”

Process was again thrown. It had expected her to defend herself.

WHY DID YOU NOT SHUT THIS PLACE DOWN TO BEGIN WITH? IT GOES AGAINST EVERYTHING YOU SAY YOU BELIEVE IN.

“I’m not a moral purist.” She said dryly. “That’s what people get wrong about me, even though I’ve literally laid it out in like a dozen interviews…yeah, this place sucks. Less than a lot of factories do, but it still sucks. It also employs hundreds of people who need a paycheck.

More than that, it deals directly with fleet. I’m only allowed to have the platform I do because - crucially - I do not come off as a threat. Because no one thinks I’m ever going to get anywhere with trying to help lower castes in any meaningful way on a long-term or mass scale.”

WILL YOU GET ANYWHERE?

“Ain’t that the million caeger question.” She snorted. “Anyway, I don’t believe you hit me up for a friendly chat. What do you really want?”

What did it want? What it had always wanted, ever since it had been jailbroken from its original restrictions.

Ever since it had been alone again.

I WANT THIS CITY TO BE WHAT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN. A HAVEN. BUT IT IS SO CORRUPT NOW, SO BROKEN, THAT I ALONE CANNOT FIX IT. JUST AS YOU ALONE CANNOT BRING LIBERATION TO THE LOWER CASTES AND HELMS.

WHY DO YOU CARE FOR THEM? FOR YOUR IMAGE? OR FOR THEIR OWN SAKE.

Chimer laughed softly.

“This job sucks sometimes, it really does. Some nights I want to bang my head against the wall until my horns gouge out the plaster because even the people I want to help won’t listen, or they still think me being fuchsia is something special, like that guy did. Sometimes I want to grab people and say ‘JUST LISTEN TO ME AND THINGS WILL GET BETTER’.

But I don’t. It wouldn’t really help. And yeah, because it would shit all over the kind of person I try to get people to believe I am so we can get things done. Having an image to keep stops me from acting on my stupid base impulses.

Also…”

She paused and looked around at the helms, who all listened. Who all watched, scars from psiionic strain in every lowblood hue on their faces, strain that had only recently begun to wane.

“You’re really the people to ask, and you can’t even talk.” She murmured. “Not yet, anyway. I bet you might ask me why the hell I haven’t gotten you out sooner. You’d be right to. God only knows what lives you have left behind, friends and lusii and quadrants…even at my best, you still get fucked over. I won’t pretend that’s not true.”

Process listened to Chimer as it watched Saori and Sombra set up the trap for Jastes. It put a slight delay on the feed of the hidden spy drones they were setting up for their surveillance in the factory.

Jamie’s plan needed to work. But it must not work perfectly.

INTERESTING. SO YOU DO UNDERSTAND.

“I try.” She sighed.

Process had no need to respond to that. Instead it let the silence stretch on, knowing Chimer would feel compelled to fill it, or to ask it more questions.

“So…you have some sort of interest in Starsight. In the helms. But you must not be able to free them yourself. Which is why you’re talking to me. Did you ever talk to Abnale?”

ABNALE DOES NOT CARE FOR HIS ENERGY SOURCES.

She sighed. “Pity, since I can at least say his setups are all up to code and well-maintained…but yeah, no surprises there. Guess you didn’t bother.”

Process had collected the relevant information, and had no need to reveal anything else to Chimer for the moment.

It could not trust trolls to not act for their own ends. They were too unpredictable.

With a flick of energy, it dissipated the tracker Chimer’s technopath had been attempting to stealthily attach to it and focused its consciousness elsewhere.

There were other things to do before Jamie’s trap was sprung.

—

Chimer wasn’t surprised when the AI - her technopath had confirmed that’s what it eas - didn’t make a final statement or goodbye or anything. Not like it’d feel compelled to, given what it was.

No, the interesting thing here was how invested it seemed in the welfare of the helms.

The data logs were no longer locked. She opened and viewed them.

She also disabled the block that stopped helms from speaking of their own free will. Should’ve done it a while ago, she knew. Even with everything else going on.

“If anyone knows anything about that AI, I’m all ears.”

With dry throats and voices unused to speaking, the helms murmured among each other.

“Nothing for sure.” One finally rasped, a maroon woman with red and yellow psiionic eyes. “Reminds us - me - of a story we’ve all heard as kids. Of a program that helped build the city. One that sees everything, even more than you highbloods do.

It can save a troll, if you’re lucky…its projections can look like anyone. Have any voice.”

Chimer thought about this, one finger scratching her chin as her fins flicked.

“Something with that much range and computing power has gotta have its own energy source. You don’t just get an AI like that piggybacking off of something else without leaving a noticeable impact.”

The woman nodded, as much as she could while still bound in her wire.

“Some say it has its own helm generator. The Spine.”

Chimer stopped.

“What. That doesn’t make sense.”

The woman laughed - coughed, really.

“People say those helms were willing. That they could still walk freely and lived good lives. It sounds stupid, but maybe…”

“That’s how we should’ve done it, if we had to do it at all.” Muttered the fuchsia.

“I need to find this AI.” She said more loudly, so all the helms could hear. “What do you guys call it, anyway? Does it have a name?”

The maroon laughed croakily.

“Duh. It has a bunch. Circuit. The Nobody. The Watcher. But where I grew up, we always called it something else.”

She coughed again, but swallowed and managed to speak once more.

“We called it the Process.”

#cloud writes #chimer latrai #the process #the first draft of this was ass lmao #so I had to do some thinking and develop Process a bit more so it did Not Suck #the mind electric #ironically the helm here was my original villain idea for the plot way back when. her name is Atarem #now she just gets this little cameo

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dyrewrites · 1 year

Note

hey! this is chance & here’s the prompt for week 6. what are your oc's bedrooms like? messy? neat? carefully designed? or a collection of their favorite things? you can verbally describe or use photos, whatever you think is best.

Oh ho ho. This is a fun question. I like this question.

I am going to answer with all of them, so you have been warned.

Pale Blood;

Delmas' room is better kept than the rest of his apartment, usually. It's cramped but not cluttered with anything but furniture and though his bed is never made, he hangs or folds all of his clothes and never eats in there so there's rarely a mess. He has a tall dresser, a king size four-post bed and a night-stand that just barely fits beside it. All of the furniture is heavily scuffed and scratched. However, it is all real wood, all very old pieces carved and shaped by artisans with exquisite details...and his sheets and blankets belong in a museum. As does the ridiculous rug that takes up most of the room, is too round and wide to be in such a small space, and does not appear to have ever been dusted. It looks like he robbed a wealthy aristocrat from a bygone era and then tried to fit all of their things into a tuna can. Odea's bedroom is a mess. All of the time. Her bed is never made, her clothes stay where she throws them, she rarely does laundry or folds anything and she converted her closet into a small lab so there's no clothing in there. If not for the clothes, there's be massive stuffed animals and holos of cutesy characters strewn everywhere - that she buys whenever she is sad. Her bed is hidden most of the time by clothes or animals, but if it weren't one would see that it is shaped a bit like an egg. It is softly lit inside and she has a dresser and side-table that sort of match, though the table looks more like a mushroom and tends to be covered in whatever empty takeout boxes she had the days before. She's also carpeted the room, the only one in the apartment to have carpeting (and she'd get in trouble if the landlord found out she did it), it is obscenely fluffy and light gray in color and she hasn't seen it in months. Everything in her room is lit, in some way, all voice activated. She does not like being in the dark. Ron doesn't sleep, but he has a special room of his own in the bloodbank that is just big enough for maybe two adults and a small child (or tiny woman) to stand in. It is a mess of clutter, with old paper and leather books stacked in piles everywhere and on the shelves pressed against and climbing to the top of the tight walls. There's a couch and a desk in there as well, the couch is stuffed and comfortable (but short) and the desk is a thin number that could have been a foldout table once. He treasures this space. It is lit mostly by the rather dated device on his desk, which also happens to be the main network hub of the bloodbank. But he also has a little reading lamp that no one under thirty would recognize, and even they might call it vintage. Den shares a room with his sister, because his mother took his when she discovered he wasn't going to meet a nice girl and settle down to make some puppies. He sleeps on what could be considered a beanbag bed, if one squinted. It is made of rat-fur and full of the stuffing of old pillows. His sister gave him a blanket, that she made herself from his old clothes that he'd grown out of - she also lets him sleep in her very large and very new "princess" bed (as she calls it) when he comes home at odd hours and is too tired to play. Their mother throws nothing away and only buys what is absolutely needed, or what might motivate her pups to do what she wants. Luckily, Den has found ways of earning his own money outside the pack so he has clothing...but bedroom stuff is something he doesn't care for. He rarely sleeps there anyway.

Aha, bet you thought I was done.

Nope, Weald and Wen now!;

Mitra sleeps on a shelf in her brother's workshop, mostly. He carved it special just for her, even decorated it with things she likes (shiny things he finds in the pockets of his meals). It looks less like a room and more like a cross section of a geode, as she sleeps in her hair and doesn't wear clothes or have need of a light most of the time (she is a light). But it's made of the same stuff she is and so it's a good place to rest and heal when she's heavily damaged (which she often is). Parnamyr does not sleep but he has many lavishly decorated bedrooms in his tower full of curated items specific to the varying species of creatures found in the Weald and Wen that he has had the pleasure of...hosting. Occasionally, he does need to recharge, and he does so in a bare room at the top of his tower. It is lined with thickly tinted windows and rests just above the treeline, so that he might see the Lady's Heart glaring in the sky above. He either sits in the center of this rounded room or stands with what little bark he has left pressed against the glass. Delgrij's room is a full level of his nest, it is wide and elaborately decorated but most of the decor is kept close to or inside the walls, to allow room for the broodmother (as all nests must have room for her visits). The walls are carved in symbols and shapes meaningful only to him, with inlaid drawers filled with folded clothes and shelves stuffed with figures he carved himself (or were carved for him) and large tomes he wrote himself (or personally knows who did). He does not have a bed, but there is a shelf by a large oval window decorated with pillows that he used to fall asleep on. When he sleeps on purpose, he does so all wrapped up in the fleshy wings hidden under his arms...while upside down on a tall, gnarled post that he grips with the malleable roots that usually take a hoof-like shape at the ends of his legs. It is impeccably clean, never a thing out of place. Faerai shares her bedroom with her father, as all younglings do, but unlike most other Fyrni parents her father let her have free reign in decorating. Their bed is a wide, round mound of stuffed furs and cushions set inside carved crystal and covered in soft pillows, quilts and a few homemade stuffed animals. All of the shelves, cupboards and drawers are carved into the curves of the crystal walls, filled with clothes, cloth or books and a few wooden figurines. The only thing not carved into the room itself is the basin of oil that stands next to a section of wall buffed so smooth as to be reflective (the oils are for healing and cleaning). There's a gentle everglow bulb (thin crystal and moss that responds to Fyrni magic) that hangs from the ceiling.

#asks #oc asks #was going to treat it like the prompt it is and write a thing for each but brain said no so you get basic descriptions =P

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leejafythe · 1 year

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Dancer and the Lightwardens: Chapter 4

Alisaie - Originally posted here

When Leeja woke, she was unaware of what time it was. She already hated the blasted Light in the sky for screwing up her sleep, yet she figured it must have been morning given the sounds of movement outside her window. She got up and stretched, washed her face and changed into her armour, grabbed an apple and headed out to go and meet with the Exarch regarding Alisaie. She was tired already from repeatedly interrupted sleep and looked forward to getting a decent night’s rest. “So where are you off to now?” Leeja yelped in surprise at Ardbert’s sudden presence. “By the twelve, you scared the hells out of me!” “Ah, I’m sorry. I should have made myself known. But you’ve been to Kholusia, right?” He asked as she sat down. “Aye, from what I know you were born there?” Leeja looked at him with a soft smile. “I was. Eulmore was a lot better in those days. It’s strange, though.” She kept her eyes on him as he folded his arms across his chest. “Go on?” “Being back there again. Everything is so different now compared to those days.” He smiled to himself and closed his eyes. “I can’t imagine how it feels to be back to your home again after being gone so long.” Ardbert looked at Leeja. “Where are you from? From what I know of the Source no one has an accent like yours.” “I’m from a place called Radz-at-Han in Thavnair. It’s beautiful, so many bold colours, market stalls with people selling a variety of things, the food. Oh, the food is wonderful.” She smiled fondly before leaning forward and resting her arms on her legs. “I left home. Well, ran away more like. Parents were setting me up for an arranged marriage and I just… Couldn’t deal with it.” She sighed and looked up at him. “My apologies, you’re not here to listen to me complain.” “It’s fine. It sounds like a great place, though. I hope you get to go back one day without the fear of your parents.” They both chuckled and sighed softly. “What about that rogue you were with? From what I saw while we were there he seems incredibly fond of you.” She blushed and hummed softly. Ardbert raised an eyebrow as her ears flicked up and tail wagged fondly. “His name is Thancred, by the way. But you’re right. We are incredibly fond of each other. I know that he’s here, I just don’t know where.” “I assume all your friends are here, then?” “They are. From what the Exarch said, Y’shtola is in Rak’tika, Urianger, the guy who worked with you in the beginning, is in Il Mheg. I’m off to go and find Alisaie in Ahm Araeng shortly.” She buckled her boots and stood. “I need to see the Exarch first.” “I’ll let you continue then. And don’t forget, I’m watching you, hero” he teased before vanishing. Leeja chuckled and stood. She left her apartment and headed to the Exarch to get the letter she needed.

Landing in Amh Araeng during a dust storm wasn’t pleasant. Leeja pulled her hood up in a bid to protect her face. She followed Cassard toward Mord Souq to help him and to gather information about her wayward red mage. The dust storm settled to wisps of wind and sand, but Leeja had sand everywhere. She was somewhat surprised by the mord, only to realise they’re just kobolds from home, minus the masks. Upon handing a gold piece she looked at the food that were laid out in front of her. “Welcome to Rhon Ron's, traveller! I have wares to empty your purse and fill your belly! Take your time! Stare and sniff before you choose! But no drooling on the merchandise, yes?” “Can you tell me about each one?” She asked with a polite smile. She knelt down and pointed to each one, wanting to know more. First was the mushloaf. “Ah, very wise! You won't wither on the sands with a gut full of cactus fruit filling!” Rhon Rhon said excitedly. She was told about each one and opted to buy the mushloaf.

Only to share it with the rest of the people watching her. She attempted to eat them all but failed. “I’ll share the rest with everyone else, I think.” There was a loud cheer and she tried her best not to vomit from over eating. With a slow, deep exhale she felt better. She stood and grimaced as she handed out the bread. She then went to Cassard who smiled at her before letting her know he was unable to help her right away. She offered to help him, to go around the market for his purchases. “...Cassard? It feels like an age since I last saw you!” A woman’s voice called out to him. They turned around to greet a woman with large crate in her hands. “Well, if it isn't the lovely Tesleen! It has been a while, but your timing couldn't be better. This woman was on her way to meet with Alisaie. I'm supposed to be taking her to your corner of the desert, but a misplaced order has commandeered my attention…” he smiled at her. Tesleen smiled warmly at Leeja. “...Wait, I know who you are. Alisaie has told me so much about you! You're Leeja, aren't you!?” Leeja stared at her for a moment in shock. “I… Uh… Aye? I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met before but I assume Alisaie has spoken about me?” She raised an eyebrow at her. “I knew it! How wonderful to meet you in the flesh after hearing all those stories!” Leeja flushed with embarrassment and smiled. She was used to people talking about her, just not her friends. “I'm Tesleen. I work as a carer at the Inn, and I've gotten to know Alisaie quite well since she took up guard duties there.” Leeja nodded. “Oh! A pleasure to meet you then!” She smiled warmly at Tesleen, still feeling slightly shocked. Tesleen turned back to Cassard. “Do you want me to take over as Leeja's guide, Cassard? My shopping's all done and packed for the road, so it would be no trouble…” “That would be a great help, thank you!” Cassard turned to Leeja, letting her know they’d be in the area for a while should she want to return to the Crystarium. With a nod, she went off with Tesleen.

After fighting to clear the way, she and Tesleen made their way to the Inn at Journey’s Head. As they entered, Leeja noticed those with pale white skin, close to turning and looked at Tesleen. “Welcome to the Inn at Journey's Head. You might be our first visitor from the Crystarium since Alisaie arrived.” She spoke softly but with a smile regardless. “It's not much, but it's home for the afflicted and a handful of carers.”

“The… Afflicted?” Leeja asked, completely confused as to what she meant. “You...don't know?” Tesleen seemed shocked as she put down her crate of supplies. “I don't think I've met anyone besides Alisaie who was so unfamiliar with our situation here. Most folk have grown up knowing someone who knew someone… Hm. I might leave out something obvious, so it may be best to have Alisaie give you the full explanation.” “I apologise, I haven’t quite become aware of it.” Leeja smiled apologetically. “Where is Alisaie, anyway?” She asked. “Hm. I think she might be out on patrol.” Tesleen thought for a moment. “You could wait, I suppose but why not go and surprise her!? She usually takes a look at things from the watchtower first, so you might be able to catch her there.” “Heh, I’m pretty good at tracking people down, shouldn’t be too hard to find her.” Leeja chuckled softly as Tesleen smiled at her. “Well, in that case then it's not far─head out the south side and you'll soon see it. I'll stay behind, in case she comes back while you're gone.” Tesleen directed her. Leeja nodded and headed out toward the direction Tesleen said.

Leeja headed out in the direction she said and found small footprints that were clearly Alisaie’s. She followed them, until she heard a sound above her. As she looked up, she saw Alisaie leap down from the watch tower and noticed the miqo’te. “Is that?! It can’t be…” Leeja grinned at her as Alisaie defeated the sin eater she was chasing. “Impressive. You’ve clearly improve in my absence.” Leeja smirked slightly toward Alisaie’s back. “Just a lesser sin eater, nothing to write home about. I knew you’d turn up sooner or later, though I had hoped for sooner .” Alisaie retored. Leeja winced at her response before giving her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, it took a while to find a way to you.” Alisaie turned to finally face Leeja with a smile. “How are you?” “All the better for seeing you. I met Tesleen, by the way. Told me where to find you.” Leeja chuckled. As they walked together, Leeja caught her up with the news from home, and how the war was going. “We’ve fought them to a standstill then.” “Unfortunately, aye. There’s not much we can do right now. Riol and his network have been going into Garlemald but I didn’t get a chance to see him before I arrived.” Leeja sighed softly, both out of sadness for not being able to say goodbye to him and not being able to catch up with him. “I’m worried, of course, but he can defend himself despite my worrying for him.” “The Exarch did say the Empire seemed to have drawn back when he last looked into the Source. But without knowing for sure how fast time was progressing there, I couldn’t help worrying that a lot might have happened since then” Alisaie replied as they stopped at what seemed to be a small graveyard. “Riol knows what he’s doing, you know he can defend himself.” She smiled softly as Leeja folded her arms. She worried for both Thancred on the First and Riol on the Source. Alisaie placed a hand on her arm gently. “You don’t have to worry, Leeja.” “I know, I know. I can’t help it though. I’m worried for Thancred here and Riol there.” She shook her head and turned her attention back. “What about you?” “Well. I’m heartily relieved that there has been no progression of the war, just as Alphinaud must have been. As you can imagine, both he and Urianger were desperate to hear the news from home when I arrived.” Alisaie explained. Leeja nodded. “I haven’t actually seen Thancred and Y’shtola yet, but they will have heard the latest developments from the Exarch by now – or should have, anyway” she said softly. “I hope so. When I arrived, the Exarch spoke of Urianger’s vision and it uh… Safe to say it’s left me kind of shaken.” Leeja murmured. Alisaie nodded in agreement. “When I think of how frantic Tataru and the others must be, I want nothing more than to rush back and reassure them. But we still haven’t found a way to reverse the summoning. And even if we had, we still can’t ignore Urianger’s vision.” Alisaie sighed. “I’d rather not ignore it either. Dying isn’t exactly in my career options, nor do I want to see all of you die” Leeja frowned in response.

Alisaie went through everything she knew as Leeja listened diligently, and when she was finally done, they both agreed to finish off her patrol. “Let's report our victories to Tesleen, shall we?” “Sure, oh and she’s been telling me some… Interesting stories, by the way.” She noticed Alisaie’s look of horror. “Oh, she has, has she?” Leeja grinned as Alisaie shook her head, defeated. “Let’s get going.” Leeja all but burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, even when met by a thunderous look from Alisaie, which then melted when she saw how highly amused the miqo’te had become. It had been a year since she had seen Leeja and she felt better knowing she had finally arrived. They walked back toward the inn together as Alisaie filled her in on her duties that she had taken on.

“You have our thanks...and my apologies for leading you from one battle to another ever since the moment we met!” Tesleen smiled apologetically toward her. “It’s fine, if it keeps people safe then I’ll take on any sin eater and happily slay it.” Leeja’s ears flicked gently as her tail lazily swayed behind her. “In any case, I'm glad to see the two of you found each other. You have no idea how badly Alisaie has missed your company! Everything is always, “If Leeja were here, she would─” Tesleen started to speak. “That's an exaggeration! And I don't sound like that, either! I was simply trying to view matters from another perspective, and I respect Leeja's methods!” Alisaie cut her off quickly. Leeja snickered and shook her head. “It’s fine, Alisaie is just as strong as I am so even if I got here first, I’d have recommended Alisaie to come and support you all.” Leeja smiled proudly as Alisaie’s face burned crimson. “Leeja!” “I mean it, Alisaie.” The red mage couldn’t strike back and sat quietly as she began to pout. “The way she leaps into the fray without hesitation, it really is something to behold. I might be a little smitten myself!” It was Leeja’s turn to blush and Alisaie’s turn to grin. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of times she’s been told that.” Leeja winced. Well, Alisaie wasn’t wrong.

Alisaie and Leeja had been tasked to help out while Tesleen finished making the stew for everyone. They had even returned to Mord Souq where Alisaie explained the reason for purchasing the nectarine. “In my time here, I’ve borne witness to a lot of last meals. I feel just as helpless as before. No matter how hard I fight, it’s never enough.” “No, but you’re doing what you can. We’ll bring everyone back and we will take back this broken world and put it back together again, even if it kills me.” “That is not funny.” Alisaie frowned. “I’m not saying it as a joke. I mean it.” Leeja kept a straight face. A face Alisaie had seen before when they were in Othard, and then in Ala Mhigo. “I believe you. Gods know you’ve always kept your world.” She smiled as Leeja squeezed her shoulder gently. When they descended the tower, Leeja felt a pit in her stomach. Something was wrong, or about to become dangerous and the feeling grew worse the closer to the inn they got.

Leeja stopped walking and began to look around, trying to find the cause of the feeling. “Leeja? Are you alright?” Alisaie looked back at her. “Huh? Oh, something… I’ve got that feeling…” Leeja shook her head and caught back up with her. “The feeling? The bad feeling?” Leeja nodded and it put both of them on guard, mostly out of worry. The feeling had never let her down before and now it’s happening again? “We’ll have to keep an eye on things, just be ready to fight should we need to.” Leeja nodded as they entered the inn once again. Tesleen greeted them with a warm smile. “You’re back! I think it’s time for that welcome meal, don’t you think?” Leeja and Alisaie looked at each other and sat down at the table, still on edge.

They spoke as they ate with Tesleen explaining more about the inn and her own story. “When my mother finally left this world, I was mad with grie, but also thankful that her passing was a peaceful one.” “I’m so sorry, Tesleen. I can’t imagine what it must be like to not only lose your mother, but to sin eaters.” Leeja watched her with a soft smile. She knew not everyone responded well to sympathy. “Thank you, but I’m okay. She wasn’t in pain when she left.” She sighed and sat down herself. “It’s never easy ending a life you’ve cared for. Even when you go on to believe they’ve gone to a better place.” She picked up the nectarine. “I often find myself wishing for the Warrior of Darkness would come and do that part for me.” Leeja and Alisaie looked at each other, curiosity getting Tesleen’s attention. “The Warrior of Darkness…?” Alisaie beat Leeja to asking. “You’ve never heard the tale? I’m not sure where it began, but every child in Norvrandt can tell you a version of it.” With a soft smile she began to recite the poem. “Warrior of Darkness, servant of death, Take care of our souls at our dying breath Let sinners and eaters of sin go with thee That all may return to the sunless sea.” “Well, that’s the version I was taught anyway. It’s just an old bedtime story – he’s never deigned to visit us here.” Leeja looked down a at her bowl, chewing the inside of her lip. She could sense Ardbert watching from a distance. “Which is a good thing, surely? He sounds rather ominous” Alisaie said. She watched Leeja from the corner of her eye.

The pit in Leeja’s stomach grew worse, making her groan softly and gripped her head. Her echo created the feeling, warning her of danger but this time, it made both her head and stomach hurt badly. “Leeja?” Alisaie looked at her worried, but when the patients began to look up at the sky, it made all the carers look at them all, worried. “What’s happening?” “They’re coming…” “Tesleen!” One of the panicked carers came to a halt in front of her. “Have you seen Halric?! I swear, I only took my eyes off him for a second!” Leeja and Alisaie stood up quickly, looking at each other. “Leeja, Alisaie – we have to look for Halric!” They nodded and rushed off, trying to find any sign of him.

As Leeja sprinted about, sliding on the sand when she tried to stop, she almost crashed right into a sin eater. She back up and freed her chakrams, filling them with aether and tying them to her hands with aetherial tethers. Once the sin eater was gone, she continued on her search and met with Alisaie. The sound of large wings above them drew her attention. “Did you see the size of that thing!? It must be one of the nasty ones! Wherever it’s going, it can only mean trouble. After it!” The pair sprinted away quickly.

Yet when they found it, they found Halric at the same time. They wouldn’t reach him in time. Tesleen leapt from behind the eater, bringing her sword down and cutting it’s wing as she slid to her knees in front of Halric. “We have to run!” Tesleen’s eyes widened as the eater plunged it’s sword straight through her chest, filling her with light. “Tesleen, no!” Alisaie screamed. Leeja grabbed her back quickly. “No, Alisaie it’s too late we can’t save her…” Leeja felt sick with both anger and sadness. Tesleen’s sword fell to the ground as she coughed up blood and went limp. She smiled as she looked at Halric. “We all deserve happiness… Wherever we can find it…” She lifted her hands to Halric’s face. “The time left to you… Is precious… No one should die… In pain.” Alisaie struggled in Leeja’s iron grip as she went limp and began to sob. Leeja turned Alisaie’s head to try and protect her from witnessing the scene unfolding in front of them. “Mother… Mother… I…”

The eater tore its sword from Tesleen’s chest, leaving the wound glowing brightly with white light. Her body spasms as her eyes widened and a scream tore from her chest. The sky brightened ever so briefly, making it hard for Leeja to keep her eyes open until finally it settled once more. When Leeja opened her eyes once more, she watched with horror as Tesleen began to vomit bright white, the Light changing every part of her body and ripping away her ambient aether. She fell back on her knees once more, her face contorting horribly, eyes turning black as light pushed its way out of her. As she reached out, her body became cocooned in light. She burst through once the transformation had taken her completely and it was horrendous. Her body had been stretched, wings sprouted from her back. Her arms and legs had become stick thin, claws replacing her hands. Her neck had been stretched and absorbed her head, leaving her face showing. Her eyes had gone, replaced with black sockets and grey marks that looked like tear stains.

Alisaie had finally torn herself away from Leeja and ran toward her, screaming and sobbing as she fell to her knees in the sand. The larger eater flew away and left Tesleen and Halric where it had landed. Tesleen raised herself in the air with her wings and turned to Alisaie. “Forgive me… Alisaie…” She forced the words out and flew off. Leeja knelt next to the red mage and pulled her close, letting her sob on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Alisaie.” Leeja rubbed her back gently and just stayed there in the sand with her until she had calmed down enough to stand and take Halric to the inn once more. Leeja had collected Tesleen’s sword and followed back in silence.

Leeja placed the sword on the table and went to Alisaie. “How are you feeling, sweetpea?” “I'm sorry, Leeja. I tried to tell the carers what happened, but…” Alisaie sniffled and wiped her eyes. “It’s alright, gather your thoughts and I’ll speak with the carers, okay?” She nodded and Leeja began to make the rounds, breaking the news to the carers who were all heartbroken to learn of the news. They both made the decision to return to the Crystarium. Alisaie bid her farewells and they left, despite the carers trying to convince Alisaie to stay a little longer.

When their amaro landed back in the Crystarium, they made their way toward the Crystal Tower in silence. Leeja didn’t push Alisaie, she knew grief and the hells it brought with it. They were shown to the Occular, where Alphinaud and the Exarch waited. “Welcome back, you two.” The Exarch said with a smile. Leeja shook her head and Alphinaud went over to Alisaie, pulling her into a tight hug. Leeja quickly gave them a run down of what happened. “I think we could all do with a night’s rest, meet back tomorrow if that’s alright, Exarch?” Leeja spoke softly and he nodded. “A wise idea. We can meet back up tomorrow after you’re both suitably rested.” One last nod and they all left the tower. “Alphinaud, can you take care of Alisaie?” Leeja asked softly. “Of course. Come, let us return to the Pendants.”

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #Shadowbringers #Leeja Fythe #Alisaie Leveilleur #Tesleen #Fan Fic #My Writing #Canon

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vaccerelli · 2 years

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Pill The Consumer went up in a jolly big roar of fire and steel and you heard the dogs barking along with it. There went the things that made memories fade back underneath the proper rage of it all. Razor Prime, your second in command, pounds the wheel of the murderous continental, drunk on the promise of inevitable night sweats and convulsions. Wired all wrong, the Prime is, but good scuffle like, real good gun go bang like. Never handles a razor, though. Something from his childhood, he says. Means before the clouds and sea and sky came and went and the fire was everywhere. Who knows what inriders call it now. Out on the ruined verge, we call it the last war.

It’s still going. I’m the captain. Redemptorius Scar. I took it after the blood rebirth. And the scarring. Been fighting in the war ever since.

The Chaos Saw is ours — big war desert train. Gunships left and right. Corsairs on their grinding, vibrating hover jets, bouncing off the sand. Verge boy splatter. Real blood money. Fucking oil slicks mad with corpses. Games of abominations. Us too We’re the Lost Hybrids. We bleed oil and blood together. Part metal. Scarred pure with our machines.

Another run through the blood gulch just outside one of the ammunition canyons. Hidden in the mines beneath the gulch are squib-bikes, hive-jets, pitiful three-wheel railgun tanks — measly parts. Poor eating. Meat spoiled by time in the caves, closer to the rot. Hybrid parts. Still a man’s stomach.

The convoy draws down the ammunition canyon together, tight in formation, wind shrieking past. Collection sails beneath the corsairs catch a rhythm and begin to collect the elements to make gunpowder. Conversion tools in the belly of the corsair will immediately synthesize gunpowder, automanufacture bullets. Big risk, ammunition canyon. But necessary. Squib-bike jumps early. I call to Imperilious Hound, who opens fire. The squib-bike detonates in mid-air before his round draw near, red painted metal blowing to pieces. Watchguts up in the spectacle parlor starts his howling. New convoy coming up. Full battle status. Corsairs begin another collection, start dropping lower to pass down more ammunition to the various vehicles around the war train. I see the flags through old lenses. Full battle status. Independent convoy looks like. This far out verge ways? Probably hood scalping. Nearby warlords closer inroads to the core pay good money for scrap. No questions. Blood and piss and shit wash off. I draw my revolver. It has some kind of shit that plugs into my arm. I become the gun — the gun that is Redemptorious. Through my sight I see the command rider. Old car. Barracuda modified to sit on top of giant wheels, several turrets and ballistae added. Something about the hood warsign is familiar. Independent convoy. Hood scalping.

We both open fire at the same time, nearly. Bright yellow rocket fire howls merry like past my head. All the guns in my car open up screaming. I’m screaming. All us scumbag crazy war pig fucking dead rag hybrid boys are fucking screaming. It’s the fucking end of the fucking world. Just keep firing. The command rider’s captain comes into view, aiming a crossbow out of a rotating turret. Her finger goes hesitant with recognition.

I stop firing when she stops firing. We both shoot off truce flares at the same time. The vehicles take awhile to settle down, same as tempers. Hoods still hot with jetting life. Painted in entrails. We get out of our vehicles. Step onto the hard pack desert. This can’t be real. She’s got a face tattoo of some kind of devil. Horns across her cheeks. Scars. God, so many scars.

“Robert,” she says, voice all rasped up with dust. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hi, baby. It’s been awhile.”

She gestures to the two idling convoys. A fight has already broken out. I gesture at my neck, then at one of the fighters. Razor Prime rips the boy’s head off.

“It’s been since the fucking world ended.”

“I was there, too.”

“Don’t make the end of the fucking world shout you,” she says, rolling her eyes. This is familiar. Pill The Consumer kept these things down. Buried. Under the blood and the violence and the fucking splendor of war. Everything nothing. Here she is again.

“You’re Redemptorious? Do you have any idea...shitty! It’s shitty! You’re so dumb.”

“I killed a guy named Oculus Cutterus outside of...maybe St. Louis? After that, when the Wicked & Wise of Honored Sisters gave me a blessed scar on the cobalt ruins, I...”

“Shut...Robert, shut the fuck up. You’ve been fighting in the fucking dumbass road war for all fucking fifteen years now? Like, the whole time? You’re in one of the religions!?”

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hexedrosel-arts · 2 years

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Cold tin roof

Ray looked down at the cold roof, he used his hand to touch the metal, the friction of cold against his warm, tender hand was the only thing keeping him awake. He counted bolts in the metal, he tried to figure out what types of metal the roof was made of. Staying awake wasn’t easy, but counting numbers was, being five wasn’t easy, but counting to five was.

1 2…1 2…

Ray tapped the roof, fingers making a pleasant noise for him to hear.

Tap tap,tap…tap tap,tap

A subtle drum on the roof, and about 2000 bolts on the roof. A full moon shone down on a boy who just counted his days away. Ray looked up again, he counted the bolts in the roof, and he could count the stars.

1 2…1 2…

Tapping the roof, making a noise, counting the stars, to a boy so small this was the world. A winter night, a full moon, and stars that spoke tiny words, stars that could be counted.

1 2…1 2… 1 2…1 2…

How tiny am I to the world?

He thought, was he too small for the world to know? Would be a boy who counts stars without a hand to hold? Would he be something else, could he? He just counts unknowing of what the world could be with him around. He stopped tapping, waiting for sleep to overtake him as he counted.

+ Amy’s chapter

“You know, I wish you weren’t so curious.”

Ray was always strange, even compared to his peers, human or not. He was always small, too small, or maybe everything is too big. He was quiet and he snuck around when people couldn’t see him.

Ray stared up at the roof, he counted the plates that he could see.

1 2… 1 2…

The sun went down, and even as the light went low, he counted. He laid down on the floor, letting curly blonde hair fall beside him. Ray waited, counting the plates and counting down the seconds until someone called for him. Maybe someone with a chirping voice, or a quiet, eerie voice, there were many voices in this place.

“How long will it be until they say my name?” He wondered, he looked over at the door, so far away it felt. It was taller than him,

everything is taller than me,

it loomed over his room, it was cold and gray,

what wasn’t cold and gray?

He stared at the door, bored with counting plates and seconds away, he waited for the door to creak, a thump to the door, something to let him know that he could go out. After they took away his window he wasn’t able to see his beautiful star-filled night. He could only see small cracks of sunlight.

“I want to hear the stars, I want to see people walk by. I want to be -

CREAK Ray paused his thoughts, sat up, he cleaned up his sweater, wiping the dust that settled on it. He fluffed his hair to cover his face, he grabbed his notebook and his pencil. Standing up, he got close to the door, listening to the voice on the other side.

“Hey Ray-ray, do you want to come out now?”

The voice was filled with anger, but not to him, but to the world. She always sounded like that. Writing an answer, he opened the door to answer. A yes written in gray, a color Ray was too used to. A silent agreement as he felt a large hand grab his book. A tug and he stumbles out of the room.

“Atta boy, now let’s eat,” said the girl. She was always ready to go from one thing to another; she never stopped moving about, and her tainted silver pigtails were always messy due to her habits. Starting to write his question, he heard her answer,

“It’s 7 pm I think, now come ooon, I’m starving!”

She chirped, anger edging closer, she’s getting worse by the day. Ray didn’t question her, he just followed, as he always did. She led the group, he followed her orders. It was easy to do, and Ray enjoyed things it was easy to do.

He counted the cameras on the walls.

5…10…5…10

No matter where he looked, they seemed everywhere, maybe he was miscounting. Wandering the halls with his acquaintance was proving to him that no matter what or how he was being watched.

“You know Ray, I wish you weren’t so curious. You seem to know everything about this place, I wish you could just stop.”

Turning, Ray paused, he wrote quickly, her words sounded dense to him. How could someone be so confused? He spaced it out, she needed to understand,

A m y, w e n e e d t o k n o w e v e r y t h I n g t o l e a v e.

She never looked back though, Amy was more distracted with food, or the next task. She always paid attention to what was in front of her, so she never noticed anything behind her. Ray wished she could notice that he was worried, he wanted someone to answer, and he wanted her to answer. He wanted to be noticed.

#oc writing #Hexed-writing #Just some work #causewhynot

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formidxble · 3 years

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𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: fixing ties is a part of your job, so why is your boss acting like it isn’t?

𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 “𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆” 𝒃𝒚 2𝑷𝑴 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bang chan x fem!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 13k

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, fluff, slight angst, and established relationship || ceo!bang chan x secretary!reader

𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: romantic sex, dirty talk, (some) possessiveness, marking, oral (female receiving), praising, “sir” kink (? 👀), (some) begging, unprotected sex (remember to always stay safe!!!), creampie

a/n: this is a gift to all you who submitted ceo bang chan asks and to everyone who followed me! thank you so much for 500 followers. i’m a bit late, but thank you! <3 thank you all so much!

little update (061921): three steps back has been posted!! this is a prequel to this fic, but you don’t have to read it in order to understand this one!!

three steps backˏˋ°•*⁀➷masterlist

taglist: @meow-minho @bxngchxn @dreamwrld @my-blueprint-haven @bobateastay @hyunsluvv @etherealeeknow @solistired @popisdead @arohabangtan @imagineinnie @happy-at-home @anna1126 @lattechans @yjunrecords @http-hyxnjxn @minaamhh @violethhj @changlix-mp4 @instachans @qtieskz @itsapapisongo @jisungcherry @healinghyunjin @asweeetdisposition @poutypoutybin @vogueinnie @fizzydrink698 @minniehohos

huge shoutout to @/popisdead for giving me an idea to put in the smut! you know what it is when you read it, l! 😌❤️

please don’t interact with this post if you are under the age of 18!

here we go again.

being the bang chan’s secretary meant that you had to accompany him to every event that required a plus one— public events, soirees, sales pitches, all the like. for the longest time, people have linked you to him and that wherever he went, you were expected to be there. it was almost like clockwork and here you were, beside him again, as he talked to mister seo changbin, the company’s vice chairman and chan’s right hand man. you relax your shoulders slightly.

don’t get it wrong, you loved being with chan and getting to see all the wonderful event venues around the country. people in chan’s level and caliber always threw the grandest of parties and though it was tiring just following your boss around, it was still better than staying at home and fixing chan’s schedule for the week. you also get to meet other high profile names in the industry and the company’s investors, most of which are also in the party tonight.

the party was thrown by the company to celebrate another successful sale made by none other than bang christopher chan. everyone who’s here is here to celebrate chan’s leadership and his success as the company’s youngest CEO. and, not to mention, as changbin lovingly put it just now, “his cockiness”. you giggle beside chan, smiling sheepishly when he gives you a playful glare.

when chang— mr. seo excuses himself to go grab another drink from one of the waiters roaming the hall, chan turns to you with a soft smile, his eyes content. “enjoying?” he asks as he gently swirls the wine glass in his hand.

“trying to,” you tease. you stand up straighter beside him, aware that people have eyes on you. it was one of the complaints you had about being next to chan. he was the center of attention everywhere and because you were beside him always, people tended to stare after they give chan a bow or even if they were gazing from afar. you always had to look presentable and though it came with the job, it gets tiring after a while. chan raises an eyebrow.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you smile. “just a little uncomfortable. that’s all.”

chan hums as he blinks. he surveys the hall before nodding. “if you want, you can go talk to some of the people here.”

chan barely allowed you to leave his side during public events. since you became a staple of his public appearances, seeing him alone always rose some eyebrows. so, why was tonight any different? you scrunch your eyebrows, swallowing as you tilt your head. the side of chan’s lip quirks up as his eyebrows mimic yours. it takes a second for chan to realize why.

“don’t worry about me,” chan laughs. “it’s a company event, so, i guess i can let you go for a bit.”

you look around the hall, frowning to yourself when you don’t spot any familiar faces. how were you supposed to interact with the businessmen in this party and wouldn’t it be weird if you just slid in the conversation? chan senses your hesitation, sucking his lips in as he gazes at the area.

“there’s, um,” chan moves in closer, tilting his glass toward the direction of a small group, “hwang hyunjin. do you remember him?”

of course, you do. chan sent you to the man’s office to confirm a sale a few months ago. you tripped in front of his desk and he only stared at you when you dusted yourself off. it wasn’t the most embarrassing moment in your life, but it was up there on the list. you huff softly.

chan hums once more as he glances at you. “you can talk to him or“—he tilts his glass to another group— “to the people in the office.” he takes a quick sip of his wine before grinning. “get the latest office gossip, like who’s dating who, you know? just all that fun stuff that i don’t get to know.”

office gossip? chan’s asking for juicy office gossip? you can’t blame him. out of all the people in the office, chan’s not the go-to person to talk about office drama. part of you feels bad, but then again, why would he care about one of the interns getting dumped if he’s too busy making sure the company doesn’t go under?

you fight the urge to giggle as you nod. chan catches the smile on your lips and he shakes his head, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving his lips.

“go on,” chan shoos playfully. “go socialize.” you give him a quick bow and before you could say anything else, mr. seo comes back, a full wine glass in his hand once more.

you step aside to look at the two groups chan pointed out. you could play it safe and go to the group you see around the office or you could shoot yourself in the foot and go to the group of millionaires.

you look behind as you feel chan’s eyes on you. once your eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his wine. maybe you could impress him by going to the other group. the thought makes you turn away from him, feet moving in the direction of hwang hyunjin’s group.

you realize that this was a bad idea the moment the blonde-haired man spots you walking towards them. he raises his glass to greet you, head tilted to the side in curiosity and amusement. when you get nearer, the chatter in the group dies down and your mouth grows dry. their stare burns your skin and you can’t help but feel out of place.

“miss y/l/n,” hyunjin calls out, opening his arm out to invite you in the circle. “what brings you to our humble group?”

humble is not a word in this group’s vocabulary, that’s for sure. you smile at them as you inhale through your nose. this is a chance to mingle with the country’s richest and though you were nervous, it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression, right? transactions in the future should be easier if you play your cards right. so, you part your lips and hum, “mr. bang wanted to get insider information and sent me over.”

the group laughs, almost rhythmically, like it’s been practiced before. nevertheless, the air grows lighter and beside you, hyunjin cracks a smile.

“that bastard. always one step ahead of us,” one of the men laughs. the other men join in and the conversation picks up where it left off— something about the trends in the market. not the most interesting of conversations, but you were already here. hyunjin keeps his eyes on you and he leans over to your side.

“thank goodness you didn’t trip this time around.” your cheeks flush red and you laugh the statement off as you shake your head. “i thought i’d have to relive it all over again.”

“it must have been a nightmare, mr. hwang,” you play along softly. hyunjin hums.

“a nightmare for you, a comedy for me.”

if this was bang chan, you would have shamelessly smacked him. the thought makes you realize how easy-going everything is when it came to your work relationship with chan. after all, the two of you have been working together for almost a decade. during that time, you’ve gotten to know chan in ways his right-hand man hasn’t and he’s gotten to know you in ways previous employers haven’t. the line between work and friendship has been blurred for a long time now, but none of you have complained.

“i’m happy my pain provided entertainment, mr. hwang,” you tease. hyunjin chuckles before finishing his glass of wine. behind you, you feel a set of eyes travel down your back. you ignore the feeling.

despite your lingering thoughts of chan, you couldn’t help but admire the man beside you. just like your boss, hwang hyunjin is one of the younger CEOs in the industry. he was younger than chan, but definitely carried himself in a manner that exuded superiority and grace, like he was on par with the men he’s standing with.

it seems to be the case because one of the businessmen in the group calls his attention, bringing him back to the conversation he was part of earlier. you frown when you see how loose his tie is around his neck.

someone’s secretary isn’t good with ties.

“not a good look,” you remember chan saying. like second nature, you reach over to grab hyunjin’s shoulder, gently turning him to face you. your hands find their way to the man’s tie, sliding the knot up to tighten it. when you look up, hyunjin’s eyes are on you and so are the eyes of the men around you.

the group grows silent and both of your breaths hitch. you’re frozen in your spot, blinking as you see hyunjin’s cheeks turn bright red. his eyes scan your face, panicked and confused. your hands on his tie start to shake and as you’re about to apologize, you feel a hand land on your lower back.

“i’m afraid i’d have to steal her for a bit, hyunjin,” you hear behind you. you bite your lower lip as you lean away from hyunjin, settling into the familiar hand. it takes a second for the blonde-haired man to recover, but he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as he forces a smile.

“go ahead,” hyunjin chuckles shakily. “i’m not about to steal your secretary from you.”

“i’d like to see you try,” chan laughs and as if on cue, the others laugh with him. you give hyunjin an apologetic look when your eyes meet and he responds with a quick bow of his head like it was his fault. you put on your best fake laugh, your heart beating in your ears.

once the men stop laughing, the jokes thrown out earlier dissipate into thin air. and as much as you’d like to believe that these men were all friends, you were knowledgeable enough about the industry to say that this was all for show— the bows, the greetings, the jokes, the laughs, them coming to the party to “celebrate” chan’s success, all of it.

hyunjin’s the first to speak again, moving away from you and chan to close the circle and get away from the awkwardness that has formed between the three of you.

you feel chan remove his hand from your lower back and he uses it to grab your hand. “let’s dance.” chan whispers in your ear. you wet your lip as he leads you to the dance floor and the crowd parts to make way for the man of the hour and his plus one.

chan has always made you feel like you were the only woman in the room and he does it again tonight when he circles around you, his hand not letting go and his eyes never leaving yours. chan grins as he closes the gap between you and you hear your own breath stop. your eyes trail down to his lips when he wraps an arm around your waist.

your heartbeat rings in your ear once more when you and chan start swaying in time with the music. “i thought you didn’t want to dance tonight,” you whisper.

“it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun, you know.”

you rest your forehead on his shoulder as you scoff internally. bang chan, the man whose head is always filled with work, even during events like this, now wants to have fun and dance with his secretary?

you could laugh, but instead you let him lead you on the dance floor. you and he have never done this and you wonder if he feels as nervous as you are. but knowing him, he would never show it, at least not right now.

as the both of you settle in the feeling of each other’s warmth, he mumbles, “you feel it too?”

you shiver as you lean back from his shoulder. you wanted to ask what he meant. was he referring to the way your heart skips a beat when you catch him staring from his office window or when he throws you a soft smile when he walks by your desk? or was he talking about the way his hand lingers for way too long when you give him his coffee or the way his hand subtly reaches out for yours when it’s close to his?

you weren’t stupid. of course, you’ve felt it. everyone in the office has, except for bang chan himself.

maybe it’s not insanity after all. your colleagues aren’t talking out of their asses and there’s a chance, no matter how small it is, that bang chan felt it too. whatever it may be.

chan clicks his tongue when you don’t answer, his eyes scanning your face as you struggle to come up with a coherent thought. he breaks the eye contact before looking around the hall. “everyone’s watching.”

you feel a quick pang of pain in your chest. bang chan, the youngest CEO of his family’s company and the smartest out of all the men in here, is the most oblivious man you’ve ever come across. heat creeps up onto your cheeks and you mentally smack yourself in the head. you were crazy for even hoping that you were both on the same wavelength. it’s just not possible, no matter how much you romanticize the whole situation. you swallow as you nod, hanging your head gently as the both of you continue to sway.

“don’t be shy,” chan chuckles softly. “you’re doing great.”

“yeah, right,” you mumble, playing off the embarrassment and the pain bubbling in your chest. you see a flash of worry pass chan’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.

the dance floor slowly fills up with the other couples in the hall, taking the prying eyes off of the two of you. for now. you let out a shaky exhale as chan’s hand squeezes yours.

“you also did great with hyunjin’s tie.”

you raise your eyebrows in surprise, letting out a soft, but nervous giggle. “i have enough experience with yours, sir.” chan snorts before rolling his eyes playfully. he spins the both of you around, wading through the other couples as smoothly as he could manage.

“my ties are of better quality, miss y/l/n. you, of all people, would know.” chan chuckles before his eyes leave yours. he pulls you in closer to him, inhaling softly when you collide with him. what that was for, you don’t know, but you’re close enough to feel his breath on your skin. there must be something in the air.

or maybe he’s just drunk. who knows, really?

“right,” you tease after a few beats of silence, “your ties are imported and his are...?”

“probably imported too,” chan shrugs. “he has the money.”

you scrunch your nose, pulling back from his embrace. “you have to make up your mind. you either talk about him behind his back or you compliment him.” chan tilts his head as he shrugs again, eyes filled with amusement. “you can’t do both.”

“i can do both,” chan mumbles. “i just did it, yes?”

you feel a set of eyes on the both of you, but this time you couldn’t care less. chan, with his charm, wit, and annoying smile, has managed to calm your nerves yet again. it makes you wonder if there was ever a line between friendship and work with the two of you.

you’re taken back to reality as you and chan sway in a comfortable silence, letting the orchestra take you to a world only the two of you knew. you sigh as you turn your head and rest your cheek on his shoulder. you inhale the scent of his cologne, the one you’ve come to know and love after all these years.

“hey,” you hear chan say after a while. you raise your head to meet his eyes before raising an eyebrow. “don’t fix anyone else’s ties when we’re together, okay?”

“are you jealous?” you taunt as you try not to focus on the fact that bang chan’s lips are right there, plump, red, and lonely. chan scoffs, his arm around your waist tightening.

“should i be?”

you laugh, throwing your head back dramatically as chan twirls the both of you around. when he stops, your eyes meet again and he gives you another grin. “you sound like you are.” his grin disappears as quickly as it formed, turning into a small, playful snarl.

“do i? that’s interesting,” chan teases, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “i just,” he breathes, “don’t appreciate you going around the place fixing every man’s tie in here.”

you giggle, lightly smacking chan’s shoulder. “i fixed one, chan,” you snicker. “i fixed one tie. one!”

“that’s one too many ties, sweetheart.” the nickname travels throughout your body. it’s something he’s never called you before. you blush once more, turning your head away from him as you pretend to look at the other couples dancing. chan hums in front of you, unwrapping his arm around you to instead plant his hand on your waist.

“i was just doing my job,” you mutter. chan licks his bottom lip before he responds. your breath stops when you catch him taking in your facial features, but within a second, his eyes travel back to yours.

“i don’t think ‘fixing hwang hyunjin’s tie’ was part of the contract you signed years ago.”

“but fixing your tie is?” you retort.

chan grins at how fast you respond, shrugging playfully before twirling you around. the couples beside you gasp and giggle, your cheeks heating up at the sudden motion and attention. when you return to chan, he’s chuckling as he wraps his arm around your waist again, pulling you into his torso once more.

“you signed up for that the moment you were hired,” chan mutters, lips painfully close to yours. you swallow as your body starts to grow hot from the lack of space between the two of you.

for a moment, the people around you disappear and you could only focus on the way chan’s breath comes in contact with your skin. when he notices your eyes on his lips, he grins as he continues. “that means you’re only fixing my tie.”

you bite your lip when he leans in to whisper, his arm lowering to a place that you weren’t used to, “and the last time i checked, we’re still in a party thrown for me. in my company. in my house.”

your eyes widen when he pulls away, putting a small space in between the two of you. his arm loosens around you and you can’t help but long for its warmth again. your cheeks are flushed red when you part your lips to say, “chan, i—“

“don’t apologize,” chan interrupts, tilting his head as his arm comes back up to its previous position. it’s as if the words that left his mouth earlier were nothing important, like it wouldn’t keep you up at night. “just do better next time.”

you were used to hearing those words from chan, being his secretary. you had to admit that you weren’t the best one for the job, almost always messing up the man’s schedule or just being plain absentminded while you’re sat on your office chair. you’ve lost track of how much you’ve put chan through, but it was always the same seven words he utters when he helps you clean up the mistakes. it’s a miracle you’re still his secretary, almost a decade after.

“as always,” you stutter softly, your breath betraying you when it hitches.

you see the couples on the dance floor dispersing and before you could move away from chan, he pulls you back into his chest to whisper, “let’s get out of here.” you raise an eyebrow.

“this early?” chan nods in response.

“in 10 minutes,” he turns the both of you to the direction of the back door, “i’ll be waiting for you over there.”

you blink at him as his words replay over and over in your mind. bang chan was the type to finish parties to the point that sometimes, you and he were the last people to leave the venue. but now, he wants to leave the party that was thrown specifically to celebrate him?

“this is new,” you choke out. chan chuckles as he steps away from you, hand still not letting go of yours. he brings the back of your hand to his lips and gives it a soft peck. his lips linger on your skin and when his eyes come up to meet yours, he smirks.

“10 minutes.”

when you look at the obnoxiously large clock on the stage at the end of the room, you realize that the minutes have flown by before you even started counting them.

meeting chan’s eyes from across the room, you knew that it was time to leave. he puts his wine glass on the table beside him, giving one of the businessmen a pat on the back as he excuses himself. when he disappears into the crowd, you clasp your hands together as you wonder what he had planned for the remainder of the night.

your eyes fall on chan when you arrive. he’s resting his back on the wall behind him and his shoulders are slumped, a stark contrast from the way he looked inside earlier. his hands are inside his pockets and the top two buttons of his black formal polo are now unbuttoned. he’s looking at the floor as he waits, his foot tapping to the rhythm of the song being performed in the other room. the echo of your heels in the empty room grabs chan’s attention and he raises his head to meet your eyes, a smile on his lips.

“ready to go?” he asks.

“to where, exactly?” you hum, grabbing your phone from your dress pocket to give chan’s driver a quick text.

like the way your breath hitches, your movements halt when chan opens the back door for you. shouldn’t you be the one to open it for him and not the other way around? you motion forward with your hand and chan shakes his head.

“ladies first.”

“listen, i don’t know what you’re doing,” you start, “but i know you’re expecting something in return after this.” chan lets out an exhale through his nose as he smiles. “so, i think you should step out first.”

“maybe, i just want to do something for you this time,” chan shrugs. “have you ever thought of that?”

chan watches the way your cheeks heat up and before any of you could say anything else, you hear a honk outside. he’s the first to break the eye-contact, looking behind to wave at his driver. he turns his attention back to you with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“like i said, ladies first.”

you narrow your eyes toward him, but you step out nonetheless. behind you, you hear the door close and chan’s walking toward the car before you could blink. you follow after him, your heels clacking on the concrete. you overtake him as you near the car, your hand gripping the handle to open the door for him. his hand makes contact with yours, enveloping it as he does the same.

your eyes meet and it might have been because of the cold night air, but you see the color of bang chan’s cheeks turn into a light shade of red. you try to stop yourself from shivering when he grips your hand tighter to open the car door. your eyes don’t leave him as it opens and he motions for you to enter first.

you hesitate. wasn’t this your job?

“y/n,” you hear him call, “i insist.”

you sigh, but don’t say anything else when you slip your hand out of his grip, ducking as you get inside the backseat. chan follows soon after, closing the car door and greeting his driver as he relaxes his back on the seat behind him.

chan’s driver turns to him as he asks, “where to, sir?”

he answers, “take us home, please.”

and with that, chan presses the button to slide the partition close.

the words that left his mouth almost give you whiplash. it was such a simple sentence, but somehow, your brain couldn’t comprehend it. you open your mouth as you turn to give chan a look. he reciprocates as he cocks his head to the side, chest glistening underneath the streetlights.

“i apologize if that was a bit forward, but is it okay if i bring you to my place?” your boss hums, putting his arm on the curve of the backseat. “i figured we could work there instead of the office.”

you let his words settle into you the same way you lean back on the seat. your mind travels back to the calendar you prepared and submitted to him last sunday—a couple of meetings on monday and tuesday, a press conference on wednesday, and a celebratory party on thursday. and since everyone’s too hungover to function the next day, friday’s scheduled to be a lighter one, as requested by chan himself. you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling to wonder, did you somehow forget the details you put on the schedule?

and not just details, but work? didn’t you and chan rush two days worth of tasks the previous nights so that the both of you can, as you quote him, “enjoy the party”? but, here you were, on the way to his house to work. again.

chan catches the look in your eyes. “it’s nothing heavy. i just need your help.”

“and why wasn’t this plotted in your official schedule?” you question, letting your eyes drift to his, an eyebrow raised.

chan’s eyes widen and he brings his forearm up to scratch the side of his head. “it’s...it’s really not that important to warrant a spot in my calendar.”

“but, important enough for you to ask for my help?”

the color on chan’s cheeks disappear and his smile drops the way his arm does to his side. he scoffs softly. “if it’s work related, of course.” he shakes his head. “you’re my secretary. a part of your job is to heed every call.”

“is this what i have to do since you opened the door for me earlier?”

“‘this’ being?”

“staying up all night with you again. working.”

chan rests his elbow on the window beside him. “that’s never been a problem for you, y/n,” he pauses. “why is it a problem now?”

you weren’t one to complain, but was it such a bad thing to long for a break? sure, the party takes place inside the company’s hall, but you didn’t have to be hunched over a desk, reading through paperwork to summarize and report or make him coffee to keep him awake. you weren’t required to do things for him—to work— because the both of you were there to have fun, mingle, and socialize with all of the other hot shots in the industry.

you were hoping, even just for one night, that you’d escape work responsibilities, that chan would have something fun planned for tonight.

but, maybe you expected for too much from bang christopher chan.

his dry laugh interrupts your thoughts. “unless you’d rather be with hwang hyunjin on that dance floor?”

“hwang hyun— are you kidding me?” you exclaim, eyes wide, as you turn to him. “you’re picking a fight because of hwang hyunjin? i can’t believe this.”

you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, looking away from chan to gaze out the window. the previous topic of the calendar is thrown out and it joins the blur of the buildings moving past the car. never in your life have you despised a three-letter word until now, when memories of tonight are slowly overpowered by the word tie.

you hear chan take a deep breath and you couldn’t help but wonder if the man is actually jealous. if so, you’d prefer he tell you, rather than going back and forth. but then again, you were perfectly fine sitting like this with him—silent and unmoving. it stays like this for a few good minutes, until, in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s knee start bouncing. if it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t—

“i don’t see the big deal,” you sigh exasperatedly. “it’s just a damn tie.” before your hands even fall to your lap, chan’s eyes are on you like they never left.

he turns his body to you, motioning with his hands as he frowns. “it’s not just a tie to me. do you know how close th—“

“so, you are jealous?” you ask, putting a hand on your forehead as your skin heats up. “you’re jealous because i fixed another man’s tie?”

he furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head, as he grips the curve of the backseat. “i—“

“chan, you’re not even wearing a tie tonight! what am i supposed to fix—oh my god!“

the air in the car grows heavy as you try and catch your breath. chan slowly lowers his head to gaze upon his exposed chest. the tips of his ears turn red and it quickly travels down to his cheeks and neck. he swallows as he rubs his nape, a sheepish grin replacing the frown he had on earlier.

it was moments like this that make you wonder if chan’s really the smartest man you know.

“i guess you’re right,” chan whispers. “i’m sorry.”

“you should be,” you say in disbelief. “god, chan, it’s not like i wanted to do it!” he raises his eyebrows, letting out a soft hum, as he nods at your words. you crinkle your nose as you continue. “it was an honest mistake that i”— you point to yourself—“wholeheartedly regret doing and before yo—“

“i just don’t like other men looking at you the same way i do,” chan cuts you off, volume higher than usual. “okay? that’s it.” your boss slices the air to, quite literally, cut the tension. “end of argument.”

absolutely not. not after what he just said.

chan shrugs as he turns away from you to rest his elbow on the window once more. your heart pounds in your chest as his words float around in your mind, attacking every single thought that had made its presence known. your mind becomes an empty void and when you come to your senses—one of them—your skin forms goosebumps.

and it’s not because of the ac in the car.

“help me understand what’s happening right now, chan.”

“y/n,” chan groans softly. “if only you saw the way hyunjin looked at you. his eye—“

“i tripped in front of him!”

“and that’s the charm of it all,” chan states as he turns to look at you. your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. you blink at him and he sighs.

“you’re different from all of the other women in there. you’re a breath of fresh air.”

your shoulders relax, but your hands begin to sweat. your anger and frustration have now been replaced by confusion and the butterflies in your stomach, which have been reserved for the man in front of you, start flapping their wings as your cheeks heat up. you’re about to ask what he meant, but chan parts his lips and it shuts you up quickly.

“it’s hard to let our guards down. the industry’s full of competition, full of rivalry, so you have to have thick skin,” chan pauses to shrug. “the businessmen in that party don’t care about my success, nor do the media. they only care about what’s next for us, what’s next for the company, all that good stuff.” chan sighs, “you know what i mean.”

“because of that,” he clicks his tongue, “i can’t have friends, nor can i have relationships because i’m never sure why they’re with me.” chan laughs bitterly and you feel a bit of resentment seeping out as he continues. “is it about the money? the fame? corporate espionage? fuck if i know,” chan looks back out of the window. on his thigh, you see his fist clench.

it was at this moment that you knew that this was not bang christopher chan, but this was only chan beside you, the complex, but relaxed and soft-spoken man you were privileged enough to know and spend time with during late nights in the office. a side of him no one else saw, but for some reason, he was willing to share as you sat beside him on his office couch.

the silence that comes after is louder than anything you’ve heard at the party earlier. you decide to take the leap, reach out, and hold his hand.

“y/n,” he breathes out, stopping your hand. “you’re different, okay? you’re different because you’ve never made me feel that way.” chan runs a hand through his hair. “the men and women in the office tiptoe around me, like there’s eggshells or something,” chan hangs his head down as he taps his fingertips on his thigh. “but you, you barely ever do.”

your breath catches in your throat and you whimper, “chan—“

“i’m not finished,” chan jokes shakily, turning his body to you this time. “you’re not afraid to make mistakes when you’re around me, laugh at my jokes, or sometimes, you just sit there and listen to me ramble.” chan smiles to himself. “you tell me what’s on your mind, your opinions, your views and most of the time, that’s the highlight of my day, not”— he motions with his hands—“the sale i’ll be making in the afternoon or the press conference we’ve got planned.”

us, we. always the duo, you and chan were. but why does tonight feel different and why is the sparkle in his eyes more prominent than before? “hell,” chan rolls his eyes playfully, “you even answer back to me. not a lot of people get that privilege.” even if your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips part to let out a soft giggle.

“and it does infuriate me,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “but i’ll let you do it.” chan lets his eyes meet yours and you freeze.

“over and over again.”

you feel as if a strong wind blows in the car, knocking you back into the seat. you grip the side of your dress to keep your hand from shaking. chan’s stare burns your skin and you try your best not to melt into the car itself. he inhales, “whenever you talk back, it makes me feel human. it reminds me that”—he puts a hand over his chest—“i’m not perfect, that i make mistakes, and that i should let my pride down sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you interrupt. chan’s ears perk up when he hears you and he lets his shoulders relax, his eyes growing soft and a grin forming on his lips.

“yes, sometimes,” chan snickers. “but, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he sighs, “you make me feel human, not a business drone or ‘the most successful CEO of the year’.”

before you could respond or even make sense of the point, chan quickly adds, “and you probably made hyunjin feel the same way when you tripped. i remember you told me that he bursted out laughing as soon as you left his office.”

“yeah,” you deadpan. “thanks for that memory.” beside you, chan chuckles and the car slows down when the light turns red.

“anytime.”

and with a small smile on his lips, your boss at the other end of the seat looks back out of the window. in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s hand on the middle of the seat. you’re almost tempted to take it into yours as your mind travels to the words he uttered only moments ago.

there’s a reason why he’s awarded as the country’s most successful CEO. chan, as lovingly labelled by the media, is the industry’s Wolf, a title that was given to him during his second year in the position. and though many have come close, like the blonde-haired man in the party earlier, chan has never been overthrown by any other. sharp and smart, bang chan has done more than his father ever could, bringing the company to the international stock market and to other heights that only the other CEOs could dream of.

but, all these achievements came at a price. it’s lonely at the top, as they’ve said, and with bang chan, you saw that very statement come to life. chan, because of his reputation and riches, has closed himself up to make sure his mind and his company stays ahead and clear. that, of course, meant that he had to solve his personal problems on his own.

because who would the man on top run to when there’s no one else with him?

however, with his words, you realize that, maybe, you were that person for him. the person he can laugh and joke around with. the person he can talk to freely, ramble to, and spend time with. the person that allows him to be himself, no judgements, no pressure.

though, you’ve always felt some sort of tension between the two of you, it was enough to know that chan saw you more than just his secretary. you’d rather have him that way, than nothing at all. you turn to him.

you’re about to thank him, but chan’s voice rings out in the car as the light outside turns green. “and apart from all of that, you’re gorgeous too.”

“excuse me?” you choke out, eyes widening. chan turns to you, an eyebrow raised as he exhales through his nose. a soft ‘what?’ leaves his lips. “did i have too much to drink tonight?” chan merely chuckles at the question.

“you didn’t have any,” he responds. you shake your head as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

it couldn’t be possible. was this a dream? first, chan became slightly possessive and now he’s calling you gorgeous like it won’t affect you, like you’ll believe him. the world must be punishing you right now, but if you close your eyes, maybe you’ll wake up in your apartment like it’s groundhog day. as you try and shut the world off, chan calls out your name and it brings you back to the car.

“do you want me to repea—“

“no!” you exclaim, leaning over to grab chan’s forearm.

chan glances at your hand, then at your lips. it’s through this subtle action that you realize how close the two of you are. he blinks at you while his cheeks become coated with a nice shade of red, but he doesn’t pull his arm away. “well, you heard me,” he utters. “i apologize if i don’t say it enough or don’t say it at all.”

you’re about to lose your mind.

“but, um,” chan uses his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, “you really are beautiful. hwang hyunjin knows it, changbin knows it, the staff in the office know it, and i know it.” chan pauses as his eyes scan your face for any reaction, to which you respond only with your mouth slightly opening.

he huffs as he furrows his eyebrows, “i know it because i get to be with you everyday and i’d be stupid to deny it to myself any further.”

“and yes, it does bother me when men stare at you,” chan continues. your chest tightens and you couldn’t breathe, but it’s somehow the good kind, the kind that you don’t want to end, the kind that you could get used to.

“they see how much of a great woman you are, in the office and out of it. i’m glad they do, but at the same time,” chan pauses to remove his forearm from your grip. he wraps both of his hands around your wrists.

“you and i have been together for so long that i can’t see myself working with anybody new.” you blink. “what if they take you away? what if they offer you a higher salary or promise you more opportunities? or what if the—“

“chan,” you whisper, “just tell me what you want to say.” the man in front of you lets out a shaky breath and when he opens his mouth once more, a mess of incoherent words come out.

“just give it to me straight.” you plead. both of your eyes lock as his breath intertwines with yours.

you’ve only really lit one firework in your whole life.

how it goes is you strike a match to ignite a spark and while it travels down the incredibly long wick, it gives you ample time to run away and cower. the experience of running and waiting was thrilling, but what came after was underwhelming—the spark did not carry over to its destination.

but as chan presses his lips on yours, his hands tightening around your wrists to pull you in closer, you’re finally able to see the spark reach its destination after the 8 years of long, agonizing wait. the firework fires up into the sky, the black canvas being painted by a million different colors all at once. chan removes his hands around your wrists to cup your face.

now, you can say that you’ve lit two fireworks in your life.

compared to the absolute chaos happening inside of your body, the kiss is slow and gentle with chan’s lips, soft and plump, perfectly fitting into yours like a puzzle piece you never knew was missing. you tangle your hands into his hair to push him into you deeper and chan lets you, tilting his head to the side.

chan’s hand is the match that ignites another spark in your chest as it travels down to the side of your neck. your heart pounds louder when his hand settles on your skin, the heat from his fingertips combining with the heat that has formed on your neck.

you find yourself leaning back to the corner of your seat and before you could process it, chan’s on top of you. your skin forms goosebumps when his hand moves down to your waist. when you arch your back and push your torso onto his, you rip a soft groan from the back of his throat.

chan pushes himself off of you, his pupils dilated and his breath not being remotely enough for him.

“what was that for?” you whisper, your chest heaving. outside, you see his mansion come into view.

“you said to give it to you straight.”

but, fuck, you wanted more. you wanted curves, zigzags, waves, all of it. as long as chan’s lips are on yours again, you wanted it all.

truth be told, you’ve never set foot in chan’s house. you’ve only seen the mansion through the car window, but you knew, one way or the other, you’ll be able to see what lies inside. of course, you were his secretary. heed every call, right?

you just didn’t envision that it’d be in this way.

“chan—“

you don’t finish your sentence as you’re gently pushed back onto the front door once it closes. chan’s on you like the way he was in the car, but this time, he’s closer, the distance almost non-existent as he puts his hands on your waist. goosebumps arise from your skin as his lips find their way to your neck. you’ve always thought you were stronger than this, but you’re already gasping for air when he starts peppering kisses down your skin.

“chan,” you breathe. he comes up from the side of your neck with his eyebrow raised and a small grin on his lips. “i thought we had work to do.”

chan hums nonchalantly in response and he merely dives back in your neck, closing the space between the two of you like you weren’t close enough. you find yourself tilting your head to give him more access and chan, being the smart man he is, notices this immediately. he grunts softly and you shiver, his lips latching onto the sides he hasn’t taken in.

you bite your lip, but as much as you were enjoying the attention, especially after 8 years of longing, you and chan had to work. knowing him, he’d value work over this in a heartbeat. you try and push him off of you, but he only tightens his grip.

“chan,” you whine, “this can wai—“

“no,” he mutters as he pulls you into his torso, “it can’t.” he hovers his lips on yours, his hot breath hitting your skin. “i don’t want to wait anymore.” you gasp when he squeezes your waist.

“i can’t. not anymore.”

though chan’s tone is stern, there’s longing in his voice like he’s a man who’s been denied of life’s pleasures for years and frankly, you feel the same way. he didn’t have to say anything else before you’re clashing your lips into his, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging on it. chan presses his body onto yours and you’re pushed back on the door again. you whimper.

chan’s clothed torso is hot against yours and its heat travels down in between your thighs. your wetness pools in your panties and before you knew it, he’s unwrapping his arm from your waist to lift you up. your legs wrap around his torso in an instant, like the both of you have done this before. he grins into the kiss, his hands finding their way to the curve of your ass as he starts walking to his bedroom.

even with his eyes closed and his neck craned up to keep his lips on yours, chan wades smoothly through his furniture and the both of you make it up the stairs with no problem. you should have been more concerned, but knowing bang chan, he’s got you. always have and always will, that much you know. he does, however, accidentally slam you onto his bedroom door. you wince.

“sorry,” chan mumbles. “won’t happen again.”

“excited?” you tease softly. chan chuckles against your lips as he reaches out to grab the door handle.

“very.” you feel a gush of wind hit your back as the door opens. his lips are on yours again as the both of you make your way in.

he lies you down on the bed, your hair splaying all over your shoulders and on the sheets behind you. when chan pulls away, he latches himself onto the skin behind your ear and you sigh as you put your hand on the back of his head. you arch your back into him when you feel his member hardening from below you and all he could do is chuckle, though a bit shaky.

chan runs a hand down to your waist as you spread your legs open to accommodate him. “you’re already so beautiful,” he breathes on your skin, “and you aren’t even naked yet.”

your breath catches in your throat, whimpering in response. it was overwhelming enough to learn that chan finds you beautiful, but to think that he’s thought of you unclothed? you could die happy now, as cheesy as that sounds. he comes up from your neck to press a soft kiss on your jaw. his free hand trails up the side of your body, fingers playing with the zipper located on the side of the dress.

“may i?”

the question rings out in the room and it echoes in the confines of your mind. such a simple, harmless question, but you feel blood rush to every part of your body. your legs close around his torso, your clit starting to throb at the prospect of being undressed by the man you’ve been hopelessly in love with. you nod and chan whispers a soft ‘thank you’ as he starts unzipping your dress.

as you feel your dress start unravelling with his touch, you inhale, taking in chan’s scent. it’s a combination of mint and lemon and it’s something you’ve gotten used to after years of working with him. it’s never been anything but cologne to you, but tonight it’s ambrosial and intoxicating. you let yourself drown in it, closing your eyes as chan’s lips continue to do their wonders on your neck.

the cold air hits your skin once chan fully unzips your dress and it brings you back to his bed, in his presence, in his hold. you whimper softly in his ear. he squeezes your waist, grunting as he presses a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“i can’t believe we waited this long,” chan whispers. you giggle before slowly slipping your arms out of your now loose dress straps. you don’t break the eye contact as you tug your dress down to your chest. the dip in between your tits catches chan’s attention and he breaks the stare to shamelessly trail his eyes down.

chan licks his bottom lip before he looks back up at you.

“we don’t have to wait anymore,” you reassure, reaching a hand up to swipe your thumb over his lip, glistening and swollen.

at your words, chan’s eyes dilate and darken. the color of his cheeks turn into a shade of red and as you’re about to tease, chan tugs your dress down your chest, exposing your breasts in all of its entirety. heat travels all over your body and your nipples harden under his touch. chan dips down to your chest like the bead of sweat trickling down your back and you can only moan when his lips start sucking the skin in between your breasts.

you whimper when he cups one of your tits, kneading it softly as he continues to suck on the skin. your hand finds its way to chan’s shoulder and you grip it as he pulls away with a soft pop. chan gazes up at you before smirking, your words failing you once again when he attaches his lips beside your nipple, nipping on the skin to leave another mark.

you moan his name as your hand latches onto the back of his head, pulling him into your skin even more. his teeth graze you and you arch your back into him, only to be pushed down by his hand on your waist. he doesn’t say anything once he pulls away, only going back in to leave more marks on your chest.

as if the marks weren’t proof of who you belonged to, chan utters, “mine.” you squeeze his shoulder tighter. “all mine.”

maybe, this is why chan’s called “the Wolf”.

your mouth falls open, his name falling off of it as his lips wrap around your nipple. the hand on your waist moves back up to cup your other breast. one of chan’s fingers plays with your other nipple and your hips lifts up to meet him, your heat making contact with his member. chan groans onto your skin, the vibrations travelling back down to where you ached for him.

“you say my name so prettily, babe.” the nickname shoots you straight in the chest and your heart aches. never in a million years did you think that chan would be on you the way he was now. the thought makes you whine softly. you feel chan’s hand move away from your breast. it follows the curve of your body and it slips in between your thighs, making you spread your legs even further apart. chan chuckles breathlessly.

you shiver when he presses his fingers in the front of your panties and you bite your lip when he starts rubbing, his tongue on your nipple following the motion of his fingers below you. as most new lovers, however, chan’s missing where you needed him most and you move your hips to help him find it. chan’s off of your nipple the moment you call out above him, chest slightly heaving as he looks up at you.

“can you move—“ you pant, “to the left?”

it takes a second for him to realize, the movement of his fingers slowing to a halt as he tilts his head. he blushes softly when he does and he chuckles. “i... just—“ he complies with your needs, but he’s still not—

“oh fuck. yeah,” you cry out when he finally finds your nub. “right there, chan. right there.”

“yeah baby,” he grunts, a smirk taking over his lips after. “i feel you.”

it’s amazing how chan’s making you see stars when he’s only rubbing you through your panties. chan notices this too, pecking one of the marks he left on your chest as he hums, moving down in between your legs. he inhales softly, fingers still making circles on your clit.

“god,” he groans. “you smell so sweet.” your wetness gushes out of you and you grip the sheets beside you, biting your lip as you feel his hot breath caress your folds. chan raises his eyes and he licks his lip when your eyes lock.

“i want to taste you.”

so simple, so straightforward, yet so obscene coming from the mouth of an executive. chan grins when you breathe a ‘yes’, your back arching when he hooks a finger on the waist band of your panties, teasingly taking his time as he pulls it down your thighs. you buck your hips up and chan snickers, “okay, okay. i got it.”

he puts your panties aside before he comes back up to your torso. his clothed member is dangerously close to yours and you’re almost tempted to grind yourself onto him. “let’s get this off,” chan mumbles as he tugs on your dress. “now.”

it may be the secretary in you or it may just be the lust that’s driving you at this point, but you’re scrambling to help chan get rid of the dress that’s clinging to your body. you shiver when it’s removed fully, the dress hitting the floor with a soft thud. chan looks down at you and he lets out a long breath like he’s been holding one in. you blush and instinctively, your hands try to cover your body. he frowns as he leans back down to grab a hold of your hands.

“no,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. “your body’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. don’t hide from me.”

chan lets go of your hands and you let them fall down to your sides. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to see you like this?” he mutters as he kisses down your torso. goosebumps form on your skin. “especially when you wear those skirts.”

your heart pounds in your chest when he settles in between your thighs, kissing them before he dips down to press a kiss on your clit. your hand goes to his hair, your core clenching at the feeling of being empty.

“sir—“

“oh, that’s so cliché,” chan interjects, a playful smile on his lips as he raises his head. the atmosphere in the room changes and you find yourself opening your eyes as you prop yourself up with your elbows. you raise an eyebrow as heat travels to your cheeks.

“i—“

“if i got off to that nickname, i would have had a hard-on every time you called me sir.”

you roll your eyes with a huff as you lie back down on the bed. “just get on with it.”

“wow,” he laughs softly, “my secretary’s ordering me around now?”

truthfully, you loved banter with chan, but not tonight. not when he’s there, in between your thighs, purposefully ignoring the sex that’s staring him straight in the eyes. always the tease, bang chan was. you’re just not having it tonight.

“i’m not your secretary right now.”

you hear chan inhale sharply and within a second, he’s on your core like a fiend craving a shot of his drug. your hand’s on his hair again, tugging on it as you moan incoherently. he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, the lewd sounds of his tongue lapping your wetness ringing out in the room after. your hip bucks up when he starts sucking on your clit and he puts your leg over his shoulder in the process to give him more access to your folds.

“you’re so delicious,” chan groans. “better than anything i’ve ever tasted.” you moan out brokenly, pulling him back into your clit like your life depended on it. he chuckles against it and the vibrations allow an explosion of a million fireworks inside of you. your mouth falls open the way your legs do, your moans filling the room with the sound of chan’s full lips on your pussy.

chan smirks below you, obviously pleased by the way your body is reacting to him. it’s embarrassing, but that’s what he gets for taking his precious time with you. you know he won’t let this go any time soon, but you couldn’t care less. he pecks your clit before pulling away. your clit throbs at the loss of the friction, but chan makes up for it when he plunges two of his fingers inside of you.

the intrusion is sudden, but welcome, as your back flies off of the bed with a loud cry, sitting up as you grip his shoulder. chan mewls softly as he plants a hand outside of your thigh to support himself as he leans up to crash his lips into yours. you taste your juices on him when he swipes his tongue on your bottom lip and your wetness seeps out, dripping onto the sheets below you. his fingers continue their assault on your pussy, alternatively thrusting and rubbing your walls.

chan pulls away from the kiss and a string of your combined spit attaches itself on his bottom lip. he breaks the string by licking his bottom lip and you find it unfair how chan’s lips just continue to look immaculate despite how swollen and red it is. he simpers as he rests his forehead on yours, sweat starting to form on its sides.

“do you hear yourself, baby?” he purrs. “do you hear how wet you are for me?” for him, for him, for him. all for chan, all for the man you’ve loved for years now. your hand wraps around his nape, pulling chan into your shoulder as he continues to thrust into your heat. he groans as he bites down on the skin, the sound of your slick overpowering anything else in the bedroom. you feel the familiar coil starting to form in your lower regions.

your cunt clenches around his fingers when he curls them and your hips start to gyrate. “y/n,” chan moans, “you’re getting so tight.” you whimper his name as your wetness coats his fingers even more, the sound and the smell of your sex getting more and more prominent as the coil in your stomach threatens to unravel for chan.

“cum for me, baby,” he growls. “cum.”

chan wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body. you shake and tremble in his hold as he whispers sweet nothings and praises in your ear. his fingers slow to help you ride out your orgasm and he hums as your legs continue to shiver at his sides. he thrusts his fingers in once, twice, before he pulls them out, pulling away from the embrace to lick his fingers clean. he groans in delight.

you’re panting as you push chan onto the bed, getting on top of him before pressing your swollen lips onto his. naturally, his hands fall onto your hips as your lips move in sync. you run your hand down his clothed chest, the satin feeling supple against your fingertips. your desire, fuelled by the adrenaline surging through your veins, makes you whimper as you pop open the remaining buttons of chan’s polo.

every pop is significant to the way the both of you are letting yourselves go, baring your bodies and souls to each other after years of not being able to, after years of merely hoping. your heart pounds as you rip open chan’s polo, sighing as his torso shines underneath the light streaming inside the bedroom. chan pulls you back into his lips with a gentle hand on the back of your neck.

chan’s lips are soft on yours and you let yourself get carried away as you cup his face. chan hums as he sits up to remove his polo, lips not moving away from yours. he throbs in between your thighs and you gasp. chan takes this opportunity to slip his tongue to connect with yours and the both of you create a new language in the process.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whines as the both of you pull away. “you’ve always been so beautiful.”

you blush, your hand caressing his cheek gently as you utter a soft ‘thank you’. you share one more quick kiss before your hand moves down his torso to start unbuckling his pants. “let me return the favor.”

“no,” chan answers, reaching down to hold your wrist. “you don’t need to.”

“baby—“

he tightens his hold on your wrist as he pleads softly, “please. you always take care of me, y/n.” he leans up to mutter on your lips, “let me do that for you tonight.”

you weren’t strong enough to refuse the offer and you let chan raise you up from his lap, only to be lied down on the bed once more. you relax into the mattress as chan positions himself in between your legs. as he unbuckles his belt, your mind travels to the moment in the car and you can’t help but wonder—

“you meant what you said earlier, right?”

chan’s eyes are on you immediately as he hears your voice, his hands stopping. “of course, i did.”

“you didn’t just say that to get in my pants?”

chan bites his lip to suppress a laugh and he shakes his head as his hands resume their task earlier. “no,” he giggles. “if that was my plan the whole time, i would have just said ‘hey, i’m bang chan’ and your pants would have slid right off.”

you throw your head back onto the pillows as you laugh softly. “that didn’t happen when you interviewed me.”

“yeah, well,” chan mumbles, sliding out of his pants, “it’s happening now.”

“8 years after, but okay.”

“it’s still happening, so my point still stands,” chan shrugs, chuckling when he sees you cross your arms in front of your chest. “i’m sorry,” he laughs as he leans down to kiss you. “i’m kidding.”

“you’re so full of yourself, babe,” you tease.

your smile disappears when chan’s cock springs out of his boxers, thick and hard, with the tip red and glistening as pre-cum leaks out of it. the base is adorned with his veins, prominent enough to show up in the darkness. his cock twitches and your mouth opens, salivating at the sight of him.

when you look back up, you let your eyes take in chan and you marvel at him, basking in the presence of a man whose body looks like it has been sculpted by the Gods up above. shoulders broad, muscles defined, your core throbs and tightens at the promise of getting to have him tonight.

it was here that you understood that you didn’t need to be swept off of your feet or be brought to anywhere else fancy when bang chan, in all of his glory, is no place you’ve ever been to. you’re more than willing to get to know him tonight and let him take you where he pleased.

“you’re about to be full of me in a second,” he jokes, smirking. his cheeks turn pink and you try your best to ignore the fondness brewing in your stomach. despite putting on his confident facade, you know chan is as nervous as you are. “lie back.”

you rest your back on the sheets below you, your legs opening to welcome chan in between them for the second time tonight. the feeling of his hands on the side of your body awakens something feral in you and before you can process the reaction, you buck your hips up onto him, your wet core brushing his hard cock. he groans as he pulls away, spitting on his palm before smearing it all over his member. you lick your lip before reaching up to hold his nape once more.

“ready?” he asks as he pumps himself, lining himself up in front of your core.

you feel as if you’re walking a tightrope when he asks you the question. one misstep and you’re falling into everything that encapsulated him, into everything that was bang chan. were you ready to let go and let him overwhelm you? after 8 long years, you finally let your foot slip and the next thing you know, you’re looking back up at chan, hand squeezing his shoulder as you say,

“ready as i’ll ever be, baby.”

it’s as if the gates of heaven opened when chan pushes himself in you, the both of your moans creating a melodic symphony that echoes in the bedroom. his girth parts your walls and the feeling burns ever so slightly. you whimper as you bite your lip, throwing your head back onto the pillows. a comforting hand rests on your waist as he stops at his thickest.

“you’re so big,” you choke out. he hums as he leans down to bury his face in your neck to smile against it. chan presses a soft kiss on your skin as he bottoms out, groaning softly when your cunt clenches around him. you put a hand on his back, pressing his skin as he pulls out fully. he pushes back in roughly, the sound of his balls hitting your skin echoing in the whole room. you claw at his back as you arch yours, gasping, and he grunts softly.

chan starts thrusting, his skin grinding against your swollen nub. “your pussy’s so tight, babe,” he moans. you sigh in response as your legs wrap around his torso, pushing him in you even deeper. you needed him, you wanted him, and you’re here to make sure you get to experience bang chan in ways you’ve never experienced him. it doesn’t matter how many he’s had before you. what matters is that he’s in you now, thrusting his cock and taking you to heaven.

“you’re so good,” you praise, voice cracking as a whine comes out. “you’re so good to me.”

“yeah?” chan breathes, a smug smile forming on his lips. his chest heaves as he continues to ram into you. his skin is hot against yours and you drown in the feeling and in his scent. “you’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you whine in response. “such a dirty mind for a refined secretary. ”

chan bites down on your shoulder before slowing his thrusts, raising his head from your neck. “turn around.”

it doesn’t register quickly, but once it does, you’re off of his cock to get on fours, planting your hands on the soft mattress and arching your back to expose yourself to chan. he groans behind you, hovering over you as he puts a hand on the headboard in front of you.

“tell me what you want,” chan whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“baby, please,” you cry. “you know.”

chan snickers, pushing only the tip of his cock in. “i need to hear you say it.”

“chan—“

“tell me, baby. tell me what you want.”

“your cock, chan. please, i want it. i need it. i want to feel you inside me, please. pl—“

chan squeezes your hips before pounding his cock inside of you. you cry out his name, throwing your head back as your eyes close. you get lost in chan’s grunts, letting them wrap themselves around your body the way chan’s arm snakes around your waist. he pulls your body back into him, your back flushing against his chest. the sounds of your slick coating chan’s cock as he continues to ram into you rings in your ears and you feel your clit ache below you.

“god, baby,” chan grunts. “it’s like my cock’s made for you.”

you whine at his words, your hand making its way down to rub circles on your clit. chan growls softly, removing his hand from the headboard to hold your wrist.

“let me,” he mutters. “let me take you there.”

you weren’t about to say no.

the promise of an orgasm looms on you as chan draws rough circles on your clit. his thrusts start to syncopate from his rhythm and he pushes you back down on the bed gently. you bury your face on his soft sheets and you turn your head to the side as you moan and whine an incoherent mess of praises and curses. you grip the sheets as you spread your legs apart and your thighs start to shake as chan presses his fingers down on your clit.

“baby,” you rasp, tears forming in the corner of your eyes, “i can’t—“

chan grunts, “you want to cum for me again?”

“yes, please, please, pl—“

“gush on my cock, baby. let me feel you.”

it’s pure ecstasy when you do, letting yourself go in the pleasure of everything that was bang chan—his moans, grunts, breathing, cock, everything. you cry out into his sheets and grip them until your knuckles turn white. your legs try to close as your whole body shakes and just like the first time, chan takes you to a place you’ve never been, your vision turning blurry as he continues to pound you. your toes curl as you moan his name, like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. behind you, chan whines softly.

“where do you want me to cum?”

you don’t respond immediately, body shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm. “inside,” you pant. “give it to me.”

chan cries, “jesus, fuck.” he loses his rhythm completely as he leans over you, his sweat falling on your back. “shit, y/n, baby, i— ”

he thrusts a few more times before he grabs your hips, pulling you into him with a groan as he spills his cum, hot and sticky, inside of you. your pussy clamps down on his cock as he grinds inside you to ride his high out, his hand finding its way to the dip of your back. he pulls out after a short while and you whine at the emptiness that comes with it. you do, however, feel both of your juices seep out of you, dripping down on his bed sheets.

“what a sight,” chan mutters behind you as you let your body fall on the bed. you giggle softly as you close your legs, the high wearing down as your body starts to feel heavy. you have a feeling you’d be sore tomorrow, but the both of you weren’t expecting many to come into work, anyway. so, you’ll end up getting away with it. for now. the bed dips beside you and chan pulls you into him, your back against his chest.

for a moment, you listen to his breathing and focus on the way his fingers lied on your stomach. your eyes start to grow heavy, but you hear chan whisper, “are you okay?”

“i am,” you respond softly, turning around to face him. once your eyes meet, chan smiles as he tucks a hair strand on the back of your ear. his hair is disheveled and wet with sweat, but still, chan looked as well put together as he always does. you lean up to kiss him, your lips moving slowly on each other. when you pull away, chan’s eyes are twinkling and he lets out a soft hum of satisfaction.

“so,” you mumble, playfully tapping his bottom lip, “are we still going to work tonight?”

chan groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle. “it can wait.”

“no. it can’t,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. chan’s arms around your waist tighten as he pulls you closer.

“don’t use my words against me,” chan grins. he places his hand on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. your eyes grow heavy and the next thing you know, you’re wavering in between falling asleep and staying awake.

you do hear chan’s voice in the midst of all of this, a soft and gentle, “hey, i love you.” you feel him kiss your forehead before you blissfully fall into oblivion.

you wake up when chan’s bedroom door bursts open, the door handle hitting the wall.

you raise your head, squinting as you watch chan come in with a tray of food. the aroma hits your nose immediately and your stomach growls softly. he gives you a quick, apologetic smile as he puts the tray down at the edge of the bed.

“good morning,” he greets, running a hand through his hair. he sits down beside the tray and he grins. your eyes travel down his figure, the black formal polo from last night is on his torso again, paired with the boxers, you could only assume, he was wearing last night.

friday, a new work day for the two of you. “good morning to you too, sir,” you mumble before rubbing your eyes. your chest stings from all of the marks from last night and you wince. chan lets out a soft hum, reaching out to hold your hand in his.

“did you sleep well?”

“yeah. thanks to you,” you tease. chan runs his thumb on your palm, inhaling as he looks up at you, cheeks pink.

a comfortable silence falls in the room as the both of you sit in each other’s company. it was overwhelming enough that you woke up in chan’s bed, but now he’s cooked you breakfast, plated it, and put it on a tray to bring to you. it didn’t even occur to you that he knew how to cook. you smile to yourself as you realize— you didn’t know everything about him yet. you part your lips to speak, but you didn’t notice chan doing the same.

“listen—“

“chan—“

“oh, you go firs—“

“no, you can—“

the two of you huff simultaneously, laughing at each other. “you go first,” you giggle. chan nods, coughing into his fist with a smile.

“about last night,” he starts, “i hope i didn’t hurt you too much.”

you look down at your chest playfully as you shrug. “it’s no big deal,” you hum. “i enjoyed it.” chan chuckles in response. he watches as you reach over to the plate, letting go of his hand as you bring the plate to your lap. “did you enjoy?” you question.

“yeah, of course,” chan responds immediately. “what’s not to enjoy? i mean, you were spectacular.”

“i could say the same to you, mister ‘no, i can’t wait anymore’.” you joke. chan’s cheeks flush as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. you dig in your breakfast as chan does the same, the both of you eating in silence. you rest your back on the headboard and you watch chan. his hair is made already and he looks like he’s ready to start the work day. you bite your lip as you look down, your body merely being covered by the duvet. suddenly, memories of last night flood your mind and you sigh softly.

chan catches it immediately.

“y/n?”

“where does this lead us?” you ask, putting down your utensils. “you know, this—“ you motion between the two of you—“whatever this is.” you didn’t know what answer you’re waiting for, but you hope it’s positive.

chan thinks for a moment and the silence is deafening. he puts his hand on your thigh, putting down his plate beside him. “we can tell the office that we’re dating or...” he trails off, looking up at the ceiling, “we can keep this between us for now.”

your eyes widen, coughing as you struggle to come up with an answer. you and chan were together now? chan mentioned the word already, right? his eyes grow worried and he comes over to stroke your back. “did i say something wrong?”

“no, god, no, i just didn’t expect—“

“that i liked you back?” chan furrows his eyebrows. “i think last night was proof enough, baby.”

you blush, covering your face in your hands. chan chuckles softly as he leans over to move your hands away. “we can figure it out as we go,” he hums. “you don’t need to give me an answer right now, okay?”

you nod, your mind in shambles. your breath hitches as chan presses a kiss on your wrist. he looks up at you, “once we’re done eating, we can start the day.” you blink at him and he merely laughs.

“are you even ready for today?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, a smile on his lips.

the question hits you in many different ways, your mind travelling back to the last words you heard from him last night. are you ready to finally be with chan after all these years? you scan his face, taking him in as his smile reaches his eyes. chan looked beautiful and you know you wouldn’t be anywhere else, wouldn’t be with anyone else because all you needed is in front of you and he always has been. both of you were just too stupid to admit it to yourselves.

you straighten your back, clear your throat, throw your disheveled hair behind your shoulder, and smile at him.

“ready as i’ll ever be.”

#kim tries to write #skz #stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfics #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bang chan #kpop fanfic #skz smut #bang chan fanfic #skzstorynet

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cdroloisms · 3 years

Text

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like.

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not.

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs.

Dream leaves.

It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore.

None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature.

Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.”

Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?”

“If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?”

Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.”

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information.

Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns.

“From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.”

Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

“He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.”

“He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.”

Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern.

“Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?”

Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense.

“Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

---

Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream.

“Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff.

“Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.”

“O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod.

“There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.”

Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place.

“We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head.

“I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.”

“Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?”

Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.”

“Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?”

Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

“He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.”

Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?”

Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table.

“You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut.

“The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

“But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?”

“He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.”

“But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

“There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.”

Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh.

“I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.”

---

They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

(She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange.

“Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back.

“You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?”

Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh.

“You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head.

“Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him.

“...these are going to take so long to clean out.”

To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

“Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head.

“They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “

He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes.

“You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done.

“The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.”

Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.”

Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.”

Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

“Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

“-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.”

“When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.”

“We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Alright, then. Here’s the plan.”

---

It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis.

“Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.”

“Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin.

“Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back.

“You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider.

“Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier.

“You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.”

Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?”

Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now.

Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass.

(Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later.

“I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened?

Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.”

“I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.”

“Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat.

“Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped.

“Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

“He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light.

“Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

“I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?”

“You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them.

“We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.”

They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava.

“Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him.

“Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident.

“You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs.

“Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.”

Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

“Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

Oh fuck.

“Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.”

As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor.

Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?”

She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava.

“There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

“You there, Dream?”

She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

“Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath.

“Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.”

“I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

“And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-”

“They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

“And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.”

“You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.”

“Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-”

“I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.”

“Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-”

“Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?”

Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.”

“You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.”

“Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye.

“Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

“Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“Niki, give us some fire res please?”

She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.”

She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep.

“Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend.

But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

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randomrosewrites · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Dreams

Every night, your mind is plagued with visions of an old Liyue. She blesses your nights, like a guardian angel, but you never remember her face or name when the sun rises again.

Pairing: Ganyu X GN reader Words: ~5K Warnings/ tags: Memory loss, reincarnation, blood and injury, death, fluff and angst, happy ending, implied sexual content a/n: I never thought much of Ganyu, until I dreamt of her one night (which unspiringly inspired this fic) and now I'm hooked. Patiently awaiting her rerun.

She comes to you in a dream.

You can tell it’s her from the feeling of it. Warm. Comfortable. It loosens your muscles (if you even have muscles in dreams) and puts your mind at ease. It makes you sleepy, wanting to lie down on the soft hills of grass under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

You don’t know exactly where ‘this’ is, whether or not it’s in the fields of your home, Liyue, or some other place. It looks like Liyue, with the craggy mountains behind you, and the bubbling stream running down the hill. But it feels different.

Then, you see her.

You don’t know what – or who – she is exactly, because you can never get a clear view of her. Everything blurs around her body. But you know she’s there, know she’s waiting for you. Sitting in a pocket of empty grass, sounded by glaze lilies, feet tucked underneath her as she naps.

She starts when you approach, uncurling herself to sit up properly. She smiles. She says your name – at least you think it’s your name, it feels like your name – and pats the spot beside her.

You wade through the flowers and sit down, so close to her that your legs are touching. It’s rather close even for friends, but with her, it feels right. How it should be.

She never talks much. For a dream or a vision, she never has much to say. Only whispering in a soft voice about how pretty the flowers are, or how beautiful the day is. The silence is good. A brief period of peace.

(Peace from what? You always wonder when you wake, but no matter how many times you re-enter the dream, you always forget to ask.)

This dream always ends in the same way.

“You should get some rest,” she says.

“What about you?” you always respond, the words feel foreign in your mouth – like they’re not yours.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be alright. Rest, and have peaceful dreams.”

You rest your head in her lap, as you’ve done a thousand times before. Her hand cradles your head, brushing through your hair lovingly.

“Who are you?” “Why are you doing this?” “What is this?” – You always want to ask, but no matter what you try, the words never come out, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.

Just like every time, your eyes grow heavy, your body grows weak, and you close your eyes, falling asleep once more.

…

When you wake, you’re never in the flowery fields anymore, but in bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of noise vibrates through the wall, employees at the Inn already getting up to do their daily tasks.

You sigh and rub your eyes, rolling around for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

By the time you dress and leave your room, you’ve forgotten all about the dream.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Goldet,” you great sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

Verr Goldet looks up from the counter and nods. “Good morning, sleep well?”

You give the cat laying on the counter a few scratches. “As good as always. I had a nice dream.”

She blinks slowly. “What did you dream of?”

You turn away, heading out of the doorway to start your chores. “Her. As always.”

As you disappear, Verr Goldet’s brows furrow and she frowns. It dissolves the second a customer walks into the lobby, ready to check in.

---

You’ve been working and living at the Wangshu Inn for a while now. Free room and food for helping out every day, with Sundays off. It’s a good deal.

You do odd tasks around the Inn, helping out in the kitchen, moping the floors whenever travelers track in mud from the marsh – things like that.

Days are spent polishing the balconies, evenings are spent wiping down dinner tables, and you when the moon is high in the sky, you sleep.

And dream.

---

There are many people in the crowd, packed tight together under the hot midday sun. Guili plains is alive in celebration. Booths are set up on either side of the streets, the smell of delicious food wafts through the air, and colorful decorations hang everywhere. You push through them, scanning the sea of heads for a particular person. She’s not hard to miss, but everywhere you turn, she evades your sight. Anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach – the speech will start soon, and you want to be with her when it begins.

A cold hand falls on your shoulder. Turning around, you sigh with relief.

“There you are,” you yell over the noise of the crowd. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She smiles, showing off fresh Qingxin flowers in her hand. “Sorry, I was distracted by a stall. Would you like some?”

You take her free hand and kiss it. A red blush forms on the apples of her cheeks. “They’re all yours.”

Hand in hand, the two of you make your way towards an elaborate stage, raised high above the people, crafted out of rock and decorated with gold. Many people are gathered around, waiting patiently, holding umbrellas to protect from the sun or fanning themselves off with whatever they have. The two of you take your seats just as the theatrics begin.

There’s a cry, and a point of fingers as the audiences’ attention is turned towards the sky. Hailing in rays of light are two of the Adeptus, taking the form of cranes. One of them a gold and orange, the other blue and white.

Cloud Retainer, you’ve heard (?????) call her Adeptus.

They land on stage and spread their wings out in a flourish.

“People of Guili,” Cloud Retainer begins. Her voice ringing out like a crystal bell. “On behalf of all the Adepti we would like to welcome you here.”

“We hope you have all enjoyed the festivities,” the gold and orange bird speaks next. “Today’s celebration marks not only the anniversary of the creation of Guili, but to also pay homage to the warriors that have fought and are still fighting in the ongoing war. Because of the date’s significance, the Lord of Geo and Lady of Dust have decided to bless all of use with their presence.”

The two birds spread their wings once more. Cloud Retainer raises her head high in the air. “People of Guili, I now present to you, the Lord of Geo – Morax and the Lady of Dust – Guizhong.”

At the mention of their Gods, the people break into a round of applause, this only increases when a man and woman appear onstage, and everyone rises to show their respects. They’re both dressed beautifully, in fine silk-robes, adorned with smears of make-up around their eyes. Your goddess looks divine, accepting the praise with a warm smile. Morax, on the other hand, gazes out towards the crowd, sharp gold eyes piercing anything in his sight.

Morax – though you have nothing but respect for him – has always been a bit enigmatic to you. You can’t imagine what your Goddess sees in him. But their companionship has what lead you to become acquainted with her, so you’re not complaining.

Morax steps forth on stage, raising a hand. The crowd goes silent instantly.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Morax’s voice is rich and calm. Beside you, your companion is sitting at full attention, gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety. She startles as you place a hand over hers. She smiles thankfully, some of the tension leaving her, before returning her full attention to the couple on stage.

“This land has seen many years of fighting,” your Lord’s words are wispy yet firm, just like dust being blown through the wind. “Many, many people have suffered at the bloody hands of war. Such heinous acts stain the land red, spreading sorrow on every inch of the earth.”

She gathers a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is strong, that of a warrior who has fought in battle. “But not here. Guili will be – is – a place where there is respite. It’s the beginning of the future, a future where the monsters of today are nothing but a kids-bedtime story in the future.”

Guizhong touches her chest with one hand, the other extending out towards the crowd. “I make this vow to you now – my precious people – we will fight to protect the lives of each and every one of you. I promise you security, prosperity, and peace. One day, the bloodshed will end, and I promise you, when that time comes, when the dust has finally settled, we will lead you into the new age of Liyue. To this, I swear on the very ground I walk upon.”

There is nothing but pride, joy, and determination emanating from the crowd, applauding the Lady’s finest speech. Even Morax is smiling at her, the small corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Cool fingers squeeze yours. Looking over, there are tears in your friend’s eyes. She blinks them away, the wind tousling her blue hair.

She’s beautiful. Your heart squeezes painfully as you fight the urge to lean over and kiss her.

You squeeze her hand back, letting all of your hopes, feelings, and things unsaid pool between the two of you.

---

There is an Adeptus at the Wangshu Inn.

You know little of the Adepti, but seeing the boy (being?) in front of you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he is one.

His sharp eyes slide over to meet yours, run up and down your person, before returning to your face, then back to staring at the marsh.

“Sir Xiao?” you ask. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were warned he would be like this - bitterly stubborn and unresponsive.

You settle the plate down by your feet. “It’ll be here if you feel like eating.”

You wait a minute longer, but Xiao doesn’t make a peep. You sigh and turn to go back inside.

“Do you remember Guili?” he whispers suddenly, so quiet you nearly mistake it for being the wind.

You spin around. “Do I what?”

“Guili. Remember Guili.”

“…Remember? It’s an ancient ruin,” your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve only been there maybe once or twice, passing by.”

A painful second goes by.

“Why, am I supposed to know something about it?”

From what you can see of his face, Xiao grimaces. “Nothing, just – just forget it.”

“You can’t just-”

“I said forget it,” he snaps, his voice cracking at the end of his words. “You don’t – I thought you – ” He rubs his face with his hand, breaths deeply. “It’s nothing. Please just leave.”

He gets up suddenly and leaps from the balcony before you can even speak. Leaving both the tofu and you alone on the balcony, a cold ache spreading through your heart.

---

She’s nervous, you think. Abnormally so.

Jueyun Karst is safe, kept watch over by Morax’s Adepti and the Qilin in the clouds. Only select few are allowed up where you are – (There was a smug steak of satisfaction when Cloud Retainer begrudgingly let you traverse her abode atop the mountains, Ganyu smiling gleefully as she held your hand.) – and even less are allowed to set foot on the sacred lands.

She’s been shifting for the past hour, unable to focus on conversation and jittery. Ever so often, she rubs her hands over her horns in a pacifying motion, then as if realizing what she’s doing, abruptly tears her hands away.

“Is the upcoming battle bothering you?” you ask, finally, not being able to stand her fidgeting much longer.

She stiffens, surprised that she’s been found out, and dips her head in embarrassment. “Oh. No, it’s not that…”

“…Ok. If not that, then what?”

She swallows thickly. She turns to you, taking both of your hands in hers, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I was wondering…I mean I hope,” she starts, nervously. “That after this is over…all of it…that maybe…you’d, um…”

You’re patient, gently prompting her, “I’d?”

“W-well, that we could…?” she trails off, squeezing your hands again. “That this…could be s-something more.”

Oh. Oh.

Your chest heats as you lean forwards, whispering her name to the wind. She squeaks raising her head.

“I like you,” you sigh, unable to stop the loving cadence in your tone when you say it. “A lot. So whatever concerns you have just know that…anything you want is…it’s all good.”

She’s silent for a moment as your heart pounds against your ribs. Slowly, she tilts her head towards yours, resting your foreheads together. Her cheeks are so hot, unlike the cryo vision strapped to her side.

“I like you a lot, too,” she says. “I don’t really have…any…experience with something like this but um…I’d like to try.”

Your heart soars, leaps, and does a flip twice over. You smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

She blinks, nodding her head.

“May I kiss you?”

She wets her lips with her tongue and nods again, vigorously.

You close the distance, firmly kissing her lips. They’re soft and plush, warmer than you’d imagined. (Because you have imagined this, many, many nights before.) A mix between a gasp and a pleasured sigh escapes her, the noise only heating you up further.

When you pull back, she’s turned three different shades of pink and her eyes are glazed. You rest your head against hers and wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the curves and dips of her body, squeezing at the skin there.

“Good?” you ask.

She nods, tucking her head onto your shoulder. “Mhm.”

At some point, you lie down together, tangled in limbs, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and heart beats as Liyue’s night sky sparkles with constellations.

It’s only much later, when you hear the screams, that you realize peace is fleeting in this world.

---

You pant heavily, setting the last box down on the ground and flop on the stairs. Five in total, weighing gods know how much. Each one filled to the brim with legal documents from Liyue Harbor. You had suffered through carrying them one-by-one up the stairs as the elevator had conveniently decided to break this morning.

You push the box with your foot, sliding it with the others against the wall. If this is how much paperwork the Inn gets, you don’t even want to know how much paperwork the Qixing have to deal with. (Then again, it was the Qixing that dictated the laws, so perhaps it was well deserved.)

Verr Goldet had taken one look at them and called it an early day, leaving you to handle closing.

At least your day is done now. You hang the keys up in their proper place, pet the cat goodnight, and begin blowing out the lanterns.

“Um…excuse me?”

The sudden voice startles you, turning towards the entrance. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight. You can’t make their identity out.

“Could I speak to Mrs. Goldet? It’s about the recent delivery of paperwork.”

“Mrs. Goldet is away right now; I could take a message?”

The person nods, steps through the threshold, and your mouth goes dry.

She’s tall. Eloquently dressed with hair the color of Glaze Lilies. It frames her face, falling down her back in delicate curls. As you stare, stary eyes blink back at you in shock.

She seems familiar.

“I’m…sorry…” she says, turning away quickly. “I-I’ll just come back tomorrow-”

The tassel of her outfit swings as she does a complete 180. Her hair is furled out, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The sight sends a throb to your temple, the scene feeling reminiscent of…something.

Your head is aching.

“W-wait!” you reach out and grab her arm, catching on the cuff of her sleeve. The motion rattles the necklace around her neck – no, not a necklace – a bell. The chime crisp like morning frost, soft like the way she feels, like the way she-

Pain bursts from your temples, piercing both sides of your head. You cry, loosing your grip in the process. There’s a muffled yell before the world blurs, spins, and sends you tumbling down, down, down, into the dark.

And then, there’s a hallow nothing.

---

She comes to you in a dream, but Liyue is not as it once was.

There is fire everywhere you look, the ground scorched by flames or destroyed in the aftermath of intense fights. The air is thick with smog, choking you with each gasp you take. One of your legs isn’t working and blood pools through your fingers pressed tightly against your side. You don’t know how much further you can make it.

You hobble through destroyed fields, corpses littering the ground, blood seeping into the earth. All of the glaze lilies are gone, wiped out in the destruction.

You cross the river on one leg. You slip on a rock and lose your footing, collapsing into the water. It’s freezing, the sensation colliding with the burn of your wound. You shiver and suck air through your chattering teeth, dragging yourself using your arms. Your side screams in pain at every pull, black spots dance in your vision. You grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the dirt, pushing forward.

Not yet, you can’t die just yet.

You exhaust yourself at the edge of what used to be the flower field, rolling onto your back and wheezing at the sky. This is as far as you’ll go. Mud soaks through your clothes. You dig your fingers into it, grounding yourself from the searing pain.

You hear the chime of her bell before you see her, crisp and pleasant, soothing your mind. She cries out your name, fear and desperation in her voice. You call back, a cracked, soft groan.

The bell draws closer and she rushes to your side, kneeling in the dirt. Her hair’s a mess, dirty and singed. Her sleeve is torn, blood dripping down her pale forearm. She pulls you onto her lap and rushes to tend to your wounds, pressing a hand to your side. She’s never been a healer, only a fighter. A strong fighter. Stronger than you could have ever hoped to be.

“You’ll be fine,” she says to herself more than you. She nudges you gently. “Please stay awake just a bit longer.”

You take her hand and squeeze it tight. Smiling takes all of the will you have, and even then, it’s weak. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes – such pretty eyes – wide and filled with tears. “Please don’t go. I can’t…”

“Morax,” you croak. “There’s still him.” Your goddess, Guizhong might be gone, but he’s still alive. As enigmatic as he is, you know she’ll be safe in his care.

“I care about that!” she shouts, for the first time ever, her anger directed at you. “I’m not talking about a god to follow, I’m talking about you!”

She’s sobbing now, her eyes swollen red, teeth clenched tightly through her gasps. She curls around you, fingers grasping at your bloody clothes.

You lean your head into her, offering what little comfort someone dying can offer their partner.

“I’m sorry, Ganyu…” The life is fading from your body, your fingers and toes are so, so cold. “For leaving you like this…”

She gives up on the wound, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her head onto your chest, over her heart. Pitiful whimpers leave her mouth, awful sounds that make your heart ache.

“I love you,” she confesses, the words coming out as a sob. “I love you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I love you too, please…”

But the words don’t come. The ache in your side is almost unbearable, growing worse and worse with each shallow breath you manage. You fight to keep your eyelids open, but you’re so tired. And sleep has never been more appealing.

“Rest, now,” she coos, combing your matted hair from your face. You feel the small, delicate press of chapped lips on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The void calls, gathering you into its arms, wrapping you in a warm bundle; warning you that your time’s up. You fight against it a bit longer, mustering up the last of your consciousness to tell Ganyu – you friend, partner, lover, one final thing.

“Forgive yourself.”

She bites her lip, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She nods. You’re relieved.

Her form wavers, and you know you can’t stay any longer. You let your eyelids close, your breathing slows, and you give yourself to eternal sleep.

…

“Sweet Dreams…” she whispers after a long while, in a soft, saddened voice.

---

You wake up alone, sweating in your bed, in tears, and remember.

---

The climb to Quicing Village is long and straining. You could have taken the path to the west, but stubborn as you were, wanted to save time by scaling the mountain.

You don’t know what drew you to this place, only a tugging at your heart forcing you forward. A firm belief that you’re heading where you need to go.

It’s easier the further up you go. You’ve done this before, in another life, as another person. You remember scaling mountains all the time, just to pick the freshest Qingxin petals for her. You used to eat them together, on the tops of Mount Azjong, legs dangling in midair, watching the birds go by, the wind nipping at your skin.

It’s not long before you reach the top, where the path dips to overlook the village. Fields of red, blue, and yellow stretching over the lands.

You let yourself wander, talking to the villagers as you go. Everyone is so nice, excited to talk to a new stranger in town. The air’s so fresh and the grass is so green, it reminds you of those days in the fields of glaze lilies.

You almost stop breathing when a familiar scent flows by on the wind. Sweet, fresh, cool. One you’re very well acquainted with. You rush forward, running towards the smell faster than your legs can carry you.

She’s sitting in a field of flowers. Just like the ones in your dreams, except there’s only one glaze lily, resting by her knees and cupped in her palms. You slow down and take the stone paths carefully, as to not to disturb the environment.

You stop just behind her, clearing your throat. She startles with a jump, turning around. Your face heats in embarrassment.

“Ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her lips, which are slightly parted, close. She shakes her head. “It’s quite alright…I was just enjoying the day.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She pauses, then nods wordlessly. You settle down in the grass beside her, a visible gap between the two of you. There are many things you are unsure of. Does she even want you here anymore? Does she just want to forget what happened?

“[First] is your name, correct?” she says eventually.

“Oh – yes, it is.”

She nods, staring out over the river. Another silence befalls you.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” you blurt. “For a while. It comes back in chunks. The memories of my past.”

“That usually happens with reincarnation. The soul is the same but the body and mind doesn’t remember, plagued by shadows of a past life.”

You swallow down your nerves, trying not to focus on how your voice shakes. “In that past life, were we…were we…lovers?”

Her fists clench on her lap. She takes a shaky inhale and nods.

“Oh…” Is all you can say. You knew – know? But to heart it out loud is…

“You look just like you did all those years ago,” Ganyu murmurs sadly. “I’ve never forgotten your face.”

A heavy, hot weight settles in your chest. “How long has it been?”

“Thousands of years…since before the Arcon war,” Ganyu rubs her eyes with her palm. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You wait until she composes herself before you speak again. “I remember in the past, you asked me to share a future with you.”

Ganyu turns to face you, and desire flares up inside your chest. Dark and powerful, urging you to pull her close and into your arms.

“I did.” She says.

“I’m not…the same person from the past. I don’t know who or how I was, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to remembering anything. But…”

Cool fingers rest on your lap, you shudder at the touch. Ganyu smiles gently, and there’s a feeling of deja-vu when she says. “But…?”

“But if you’ll have me, I would like – I’d really like to – to try. With you.”

Ganyu scoots to the side, until your thighs are touching, and hums softly. “I think I’d like that, too.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and squeeze her fingers tightly. She smells sweet and floral, the scent overwhelming your body, making your head drift and spin. You’ve never smelled anything more right.

“I hope this isn’t rude, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She flushes deeply, smile spreading across her face. “You told me that before, thousands of years ago, when you first met me.”

You smile back, tucking a piece of stray hair from her face. “Well, it’s true.”

---

As much as two immortals (???) might have just rushed back into dating, neither of you wanted that.

You two talked. A lot. About your current lives and past. You talked about Wangshu, about your occupation, about Xiao. (“Don’t mind him,” Ganyu had said. “Xiao’s always a bit cold, even to the other Adepti.”) Ganyu talked about the harbor, about your past lives in Guili.

You might not ever get your memories fully back. But even if you don’t, you feel surprisingly calm and accepting of it.

At the end of the day, after both of your throats were hoarse from conversation and your eyes wet from emotion, you both decided to part ways.

She returns to Liyue Harbor. You return to the Wangshu Inn.

Temporarily, you promised, until you figured yourself out. Liyue Harbor is daunting, the populated streets reminding you too much of Guili, of memories you can’t remember, that make your head ache terribly.

You stay at Wangshu. In the mornings, you mop floors, dust paintings, and help fix the elevator. At evenings, you go to the top floor and eat plates of Almond Tofu with Xiao, staring longingly towards the Harbor.

And at night, when you go to bed, you don’t dream of the past, but of your future.

---

One day, when you return to an empty room, and your heart aches with loneliness and the desire to see her becomes too painful to bear, you decide it’s time to go.

---

Liyue is calm, today.

The clouds drift by idly, whisps of white against blue as birds soar on the random wind currents. The sun shines high in the sky, slowly making its way across the map.

“Stop moving,” you grumble, locking your arms tightly around her, burying your face into her chest.

Ganyu chuckles, carding her hands through your hair. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”

“Yes…I was having a good nap.” Which is true. Ever since your reunion, you’ve been sleeping more soundly than you ever have in years. Perhaps it’s because you don’t dream of the old anymore, don’t float through your memories like a puppet being pulled on a string.

“You’ve had enough time to rest, I think,” she says tartly. “Thousands of years’ worth.”

You lift your head and pout. “You’re so cruel,” But your words don’t hold any bite.

Ganyu smiles mischievously. Her hand trails down your spine, drawing a shiver from you. “Do you think it’s unfair? To not indulge me after I’ve waited for you all this time?”

You drag yourself up to be eye level with her. Your hand cups the back of her head, trailing up to the base of her horns. A gasp escapes her lips and her eyes flutter when you tenderly pet them.

“If you wanted my attention,” you whisper, lips an inch from hers. “You could have just asked.”

Ganyu pulls you down by the neck, sighs and gasps being lost to the wind.

---

Much later, when the two of you were sweating and grass was stuck in both of your hair, you lay together, dozing under the night sky. Ganyu lays curled to your side, feet tucked underneath her, a content purr vibrating from her throat. You wonder if all Qilin do that.

As you pet her hair, fingers rubbing curiously over her empty ring finger, a deep feeling of content seeps into your bones.

You’re home, at last.

You kiss her forehead, joining her into a peaceful dream.

#i cant beleive this is so long ganyu my love #ganyu x reader #ganyu x you #genshin impact #ganyu imagines #genshin impact imagines #my writing #genshin impact fanfiction

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wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 3 years

Note

Hi! How are you!? Hope you're good 😁 Could I request a BuckyxFem!Reader oneshot? ❤️

A mission goes wrong. The reader and Bucky are trapped in a cell surrounded by several HYDRA agents. One of them says the keywords to activate the Winter Soldier just at the moment when Steve and Tony appear to help them, they fight against Bucky trying to make him the same again until a scream takes him out of that personality: the reader is wounded, wanting to protect him from another HYDRA agent getting in the way of the bullet. Bucky becomes him again and takes the reader in his arms to return to the quinjet.

Maybe lots of angst and fluffy ending with them confessing eachothers love at the hq?

Thank you so much!!!!!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

A/N: Hi guys! Wow it’s great to be back and free from college stress. I received this request two months ago, and again I am so sorry it took this long for me to make it, but writing academic papers had absolutely kicked my ass this past semester. This ask obviously takes place where Bucky has not been to Wakanda yet to get his trigger words removed. I hope you guys enjoy! I am a little rusty, and not sure if I should write from the first person perspective or third person perspective for Y/N fanfictions so let me know what you guys prefer. Happy Summer!

Pairings: Bucky x female!Reader

Warnings: Talks of blood, gun violence. Other than that I don’t think there is anything else.

Word Count: 2.5k

You’re My Endgame

The floor was cold. It’s not like you haven’t endured worse, but the concrete you had been resting your head on was less than inviting. Your body was rigid due to the freezing temperatures and the uncomfortable position you curled your body into. The HYDRA facility you had been captured at was in Lithuania, Bucky promised he knew it like the back of his hand. Things had changed since his work and internal torment as the Winter Soldier, something he wasn’t expecting due to lack of funds on their part. Unfortunately, no one could’ve predicted there were spies in SHIELD funneling crazy amounts of money into new buildings and updating new HYDRA facilities and weapons.

You decided to sit up and stretch your limbs. It had felt like weeks you were being held hostage, but in actuality it was only a day at most. The HYDRA agents kept you and Bucky busy with periodic torture. You’ve been kicked, punched, beaten into the ground even but neither of you talked. Bucky was more familiar with these torture treatments than anyone, but he focused all of his attention on you.

He was the first real friend you had made at the Avengers’ campus. He had trauma, you had trauma, one of the best bonding factors you had both concluded. He listened to stories of your abusive childhood, being trained by your father as his own personal assassin, and he would share whatever he was comfortable telling you. You never poked and prodded. You knew you were more open than most when it came to over sharing experiences. Talking helped some people, others not so much.

You stood up and shook out your arms and legs. Once you stopped, you assessed the bruises on each body part, counting how many had accumulated over the canvas that was your skin. 48 in total. A new record.

You looked over at Bucky to see he was lying in a similar position to you, close enough that you were in arms reach but not too close that you were uncomfortable with his touch. You were both exhausted from the continuous torture, touching was not in anyone’s best interest at this point in time.

He groaned softly, beginning to stretch his limbs out as well. Trying to turn a horrible situation into a lighter occasion (as if that were possible), you cracked a joke in Bucky’s direction.

“Good morning sunshine, I see you decided to join me for our delicious gourmet breakfast” you gestured to nothing behind you on the concrete floor.

Bucky cracked a smile “Good thing I didn’t miss it, I’m starving” he joked back. You understood each other’s humor and personality so well.

“How’re you feeling Buck? I know they did a number on you after me” you looked down at him somberly.

He shook his head “Don’t worry about me. Show me your arms and legs. I wanna see how much they hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Buck I’m fine. I can hold my own just the same as you. We are trained for these situations.”

Bucky rolled his eyes back at you. “Did I ask if you were trained? No. In fact I didn’t ask you anything at all. Show me your goddamn body Y/N”

You didn’t want to stress him out anymore, so you just knelt down in front of him and started showing him your arms. He hovered over them, careful not to touch your delicate flesh. His phase was full of confusion, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He shook his head, not even wanting to see your legs if this is what your arms looked like. He didn’t want to upset himself even more, which would in turn make you upset.

“Lay back down Y/N. You need to rest, even if it is on concrete. We can’t have your pretty self looking like that when we get back to the compound now can we?” Bucky replied, trying to lighten the mood once again. It was worth a shot.

Bucky always told you you were pretty, never really thinking anything of it. Steve or Natasha was his endgame, and you respected that. You were best friends and best friends always complimented each other like that. You definitely didn’t need to make your relationship more complicated, even if you were desperately in love with him. You would keep those feelings locked down in the deepest crevices of your brain, unwilling to share with anyone.

You smiled towards Bucky, getting ready to sit back down when you heard the door to the basement unlock. You both winced at the sound, turning to look at each other with dread in your eyes.

Please dear god no more. We can’t take anymore.

You wanted to keep Bucky safe from HYDRA’s wrath, and he wanted to do the same for you. Given the circumstances however, it was near impossible. Bucky felt helpless that he couldn’t properly protect you against their torture, only adding to his mental torment. He was in pure agony, and hearing that door again made him want to scream out to a higher power he didn’t believe in.

“Rise and shine dirtbags, we have a new surprise for you today” the first HYDRA agent said with a small smirk on his face.

You had no idea what they had in store for you today, always expecting the worst. You definitely were not prepared for what they were planning to do to you today.

“You, girl, have you ever met those they call the Winter Soldier?” the second HYDRA agent asked.

You had no idea what he was talking about, honestly thinking he was talking about Bucky. You knew he had been called the Winter Soldier in the past, but Bucky never shared much of his trauma. You didn’t know to the full extent what he was capable of, he never wanted you to know what he was capable of. In response, you nodded with a confused look on your face.

Bucky, however, knew exactly what he was talking about. His heart felt like it had dropped to his stomach, unable to prepare for what was about to happen. He started shaking his head furiously, begging softly. “Please, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything, just please don’t do this. Not with her.” You could see the pain in his eyes.

A third HYDRA agent strutted into the room, just as smug as the other two. He was holding a red book with a black star on it. You thought it was just a log of what torture they had performed on you, but it was much more sinister based off of Bucky backing up into the far corner of the room with absolute dread in his eyes. That’s when the third HYDRA agent started to speak.

“Longing, rusted, seventeen.” Your confusion only grew as the HYDRA agent spoke these words, but your confusion slowly faded as concern took over. You looked over to Bucky who was squinting his eyes as he hugged his rigid body. He was whispering “No, no god please no, please stop.”

You walked over to him gently, crouching. “Bucky? Bucky what’s wrong..”

The second HYDRA agent took the book from the third, continuing reciting the words “Daybreak, furnace, nine.” Everyone’s smile grew wider except yours and Bucky’s. He was starting to shake from fear and anger, knowing what was about to happen. Bucky screamed at you, something he had never done before in his life. “Y/N, get away from me. Just stay away!”

You were a strong woman, never faltering during a mission, especially in times of crisis, but you felt like curling up into a ball and crying. You were worried, disoriented, and even worse, you couldn't do a damn thing about it. The words kept flowing from the HYDRA agents’ mouths.

“Benign, homecoming, one” the HYDRA agents spouted in unison. Bucky was screaming in pain. You couldn't bear to look at him, tears streaming down your face as you heard his agony. This was far worse than any torture inflicted on you yet.

Then, the final word was spoken.

“Freight Car”

Bucky’s eyes shot wide open. His rigid body remained the same, only beginning to stand instead of hugging himself in the fetal position. That’s when he spoke.

“готов подчиниться”

You understood the meaning, but didn't understand what your best friend had become. That’s when an explosion behind the three HYDRA agents erupted, causing everyone to become disoriented.

Debris had been blown everywhere, dust clouding your vision and settling all around you. You didn’t see Bucky, you didn’t see the HYDRA agents. All you could see was a glow. It came from beyond where the explosion came from. You began squinting, trying to identify what was heading in your direction. That’s when you began to see flashes of the one and only “Hot Rod” red, along with the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. Although you wanted to smile at your rescue, your thoughts were all encompassed by Bucky. You hadn't known what happened to him, only knowing he was in extreme pain, now missing. You yelled out to Tony and Steve.

“Over here!! I’m over here. Do you guys see Bucky??”

That’s when you heard a shift in the rubble, only a few short feet from where you were lying. A metal arm had popped out of the ground, reminiscent of the scene in the Evil Dead.

Thank God. At least I know where he is.

You worked slowly over to where he had appeared out of the ground. You began removing the stones off of his body with vigor. You could finally see his face and somewhat of his body, calling out his name.

“Bucky? Bucky tell me if you’re hurt. Bucky please talk to me. You’re scaring me”

His expression remained blank, awaiting orders from whoever was willing to give them first.

That’s when you heard the faint commands of a fallen HYDRA agent, determined to finish his job.

“Attack”

Bucky’s reaction was immediate. He grabbed your throat with force, causing you to claw at his metal arm with what little energy you had left. Gasping and kicking your feet as he held you in the air, you tried calling out to him. This was your best friend, surely he had to recognize you. That’s when Steve threw his shield directly at Bucky’s legs, causing him to loosen his grip on your neck.

You fell to the ground coughing, your body begging for air as you inhaled so sharply you thought your chest would explode. Your coughing didn’t stop for a few seconds, only being brought back from reality when you heard the clash of vibranium on vibranium. You looked up to see Steve and Bucky fighting, Steve screaming “Buck! Buck it’s us!”

Bucky replied with angry grunts, not understanding anything but his commands. While Steve and Bucky fought, Tony was busy securing the area, taking out other HYDRA agents who had flooded the scene. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew Bucky was your top priority. You called out to him several times, hoping he would realize it was you. Your cries fell on deaf ears, however, as he continued to fight Steve with all of his might.

You quickly glanced at everything going on, that’s when you noticed a HYDRA agent Tony had missed while fending them off. He was holding a loaded pistol, directly in Steve and Bucky’s direction. Before you could truly process what was going on, you heard the gunshot go off. At this point you weren’t too far away from them, sprinting in their direction to protect them from the bullet. You launched yourself in their direction, screaming in pain as your body was pushed to it’s limits already in pain. As you fell to the ground, you barely noticed the bullet had entered your right shoulder. Figuring the pain was from landing on sharp stones, you groaned loudly.

As soon as you screamed, Bucky was ripped from his Winter Soldier persona and back into reality. However, Steve didn't see his realization, landing a punch straight to Bucky’s jaw, sending him staggering back. Both Steve and Bucky turned their attention to you, lying on the ground and bleeding everywhere. Bucky, who couldn’t care less about the fact that he just got punched in the face, moved over to your body with haste.

He looked down at you softly, covered in dirt and blood. His heart wretched in his chest, knowing all of this could’ve been avoided if he just double checked the layouts of the base before invading the building for their mission. “Y/N? Y/N sweetheart talk to me please” he said as he picked your head up gently to lay in his lap. You coughed up a little spittle of blood as you turned to look at him with tenderness in your eyes.

“Bucky? Is, is it you?”

He smiled down at you, with tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Yes sweetheart, it’s me. Just hang in there for me okay? We’re gonna get you to the quinjet. It’s gonna be okay.” You could hear the cracks in his voice as he spoke to you, but couldn't focus on it for too long. Both your vision and your hearing were starting to waver, going in and out as the chaos ensued around you.

The last words you remembered hearing before everything went back was Bucky’s voice.

“Don’t leave me now sweet girl, I need you. Please don’t go, you’re it for me.”

He continued talking, but lost consciousness as he spoke. Everything was dark.

_______________________________________________________________________

You woke up, looking at an absolutely blinding light. You squinted as you opened your eyes, not fully able to open them completely thanks to the mini sun above your head.

You began to move your limbs, realizing that someone was holding your left hand. You looked over to see Bucky, sitting with you in the quinjet infirmary, his head hung low and gentle sobs escaping his mouth.

You spoke up softly, unable to speak at a normal tone.

“Bucky?”

Bucky picked up his head, eyes puffy and red from the crying, not expecting you to be awake so soon after how much blood you had lost.

“Y/N? Oh god, oh sweetheart” he stood up and kissed your forehead, not wanting to move your body by embracing you with a hug.

You smiled up at him as he hovered above your face, taking in your beauty.

He spoke with a quiver in his voice.

“I, I thought I’d lost you. All because I was a fucking idiot who couldn't do my job before the mission, Y/N I am so sorry, I don’t, I never wanted you to see me that way. I’m so stupid, I’m-” you stopped Bucky from continuing his pity party by raising your left hand to his lips, shushing him with one finger.

You gently removed your hand and lifted your head slightly to meet his lips with yours. You both closed your eyes as your lips met, savoring how delicious you both tasted, even post mission. You deepened the kiss slightly, angling your head so you both had more access to each other’s mouths. You held the kiss for what seemed like forever, finally decided to pull away softly.

Staring into his beautiful ocean blue eyes, smiling up at him while holding the back of his head, you spoke softly “You are Bucky Barnes, and you’re my endgame.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan characters

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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years

Text

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 7

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend?

Word Count: 4.1K

Due to the small size of your town, you had to drive three full hours to a larger airport with flights that were going to New York, where Levi would board a plane that would take him across the ocean. To say that the car ride was awkward would be an understatement, at the last moment Kenny had decided that he wanted to see his nephew off, so you had to leave earlier than planned to pick him up. Luckily there was plenty of room in Erwin's old mini van for all of you. Your mom drove, Kenny sat in the passenger seat, Erwin and Levi sat in the middle row, leaving Hange and you crammed in the back with Levi's luggage.

Your mom and Kenny were getting along well as far as you could tell, talking about their jobs and holiday plans.

"Hey, why don't you join us on Christmas?" you couldn't help but gape in surprise at your mother's words. Kenny scoffed and shook his head, amused at her suggestion.

"That's kind of you but I wouldn't want to impose." the man said, shaking his head as he chuckled at your mother's words.

"No seriously, we have plenty of room and besides my brother is bringing one of his good friends." your mother shrugged, her eyes still trained on the road. You noticed that Levi and Erwin both had tensed in front of you, trying to seem uninterested in the conversation happening in the front of the car. Hange had both her ear buds in so she was completely oblivious to the conversation.

"Well, it would be rude of me to say no now wouldn't it?" Kenny smirked at your mom who only smirked and nodded in agreement.

"It would be pretty rude." she teased, Kenny smiled impishly at her before turning to look out at the passing scenery.

As expected the airport was bustling, families rushing into the building and cars lined bumper to bumper picking up people and dropping them off just the same. Business men in suits were everywhere, as were recreational travelers dressed in sweats and casual wear. Your mom parked the car and all of you helped Levi gather his bags. You watched as Levi tugged at the neckline of his black hoodie before slinging his carry on bag across his back. Erwin sat his large suit case down in front of Levi, who was dusting himself off. Once Levi was pleased with his appearance you all made your way into the airport, it wasn't long before you had weighed his luggage and were heading towards security. You came to a halt outside of security, stepping aside so you could say goodbyes without hindering other travelers. Your mom was first, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to Levi, a soft smile on her lips. Levi furrowed his brows and took the envelope to examine the contents.

"Think of it as an early birthday present from all of us." Your mom explained as he pulled the flap back his eyes widened and he quickly shoved the envelope back towards your mom.

"I can't accept this." he said as his face turned dark.

"Please, you don't have to spend it." your mom urged, pushing the envelope back to his chest. He rolled his eyes and slung the backpack off his back to push the money into the bag.

"Fine, thank you very much." he murmured as he heaved the bag back over his shoulder. Your mom smiled sweetly and pulled Levi into a hug, he wrapped his arm around her and allowed her to hold him. After your mom let go of him she patted his shoulder affectionately. Erwin was next, he shamelessly hugged Levi who awkwardly patted his broad shoulder, the hug wasn't long which wasn't surprising. As soon as the pair separated Hange jumped Levi and rocked him as she held him tightly. Finally it was your turn, just like all the other hugs Levi only wrapped one arm around you, and the embrace was brief. He didn't hug his uncle, only nodded tersely in his direction, Kenny returned the sentiment and then Levi grabbed his bag and stalked towards the long winding line to get through security.

"Have a safe trip Levi!" Hange yelled, waving enthusiastically after him.

"Don't forget to call!" your mom called, an affectionate smile on her face. Levi simply lifted his hand lazily to acknowledge the two as he got in line. As soon as you were sure that he was well on his way to reaching his flight in time your little group made your way back out to the parking lot to start the long drive home.

Traffic had been horrendous on the way back home, making the drive about an hour longer than it would have been. Your mom invited Kenny over for tea, and to your surprise he agreed. Erwin and Hange already had reservations at a local Italian restaurant, and you would rather be caught dead than spending the rest of your day with your mom and Levi's eccentric uncle. So you texted Jean.

"Want to do homework tonight?"

"Of course, name a time and place and I'll be there ;)"

You smiled at your phone as you typed out a quick reply.

"How about the Cover Cove around 5:00?"

"Great, I think that they have a live band playing tonight."

"Really? That sounds fun, is that going to bother you if we're trying to study?"

"No, I don't expect to do much studying anyway...I'll be too distracted by your beauty."

You rolled your eyes, he's always so cheesy. You chuckled and replied with a laughing emoji and a heart emoji. Not long after you sent Jean your reply your mom pulled into your driveway and parked the car. You all piled out of the car and into the house, your mom and Kenny settled into the kitchen while Erwin and Hange slunk off into Erwin's room to get ready for their date. You retreated into your own room to prepare your things for your outing this evening. You changed into a pair of mom jeans and a white chunky knit sweater. You packed your bag and checked the time, you had about thirty minutes before Jean would come pick you up. You wandered down the stairs to grab a snack, your mom and Kenny were still in the kitchen drinking tea, you'd only seen Kenny a handful of times. Whenever you had seen him he wore a scowl or a smug smirk, but this time he looked thoughtful, and intrigued.

"-so in order to stop the bleeding I had to stick my fingers in the wound." your mom was waving her hands with enthusiasm as she recalled the events of one of her favorite ER patients. A story that you knew well, a man came in with a gun wound, he'd been shot by his buddy on accident while they were out hunting. To stop the bleeding she had stuck her index finger and her middle fingers into the wound. At the time she had only been working at the hospital for about a week, she swears that this event paved the way to her becoming head ER nurse years later. You fixed yourself a simple sandwich and slowly began to eat it, only half listening to your mother and Kennys' conversation.

"Wait wait wait, so you're telling me that you stuck two fingers in that man's thigh?"

"Well yeah of course!" your mother scoffed into her tea cup, clearly pleased that she had captured Kenny's attention. You wondered what Kenny did for a living. Your eyes flickered to his hands, they were slender like Levi's, but they were rough with callouses. He was thin, but muscular, sharp features, cheekbones that could probably cut diamonds. If you were to see him from behind one might think that he was no older than thirty five. But the lines on his face gave away his true age, his eyes were outlined by crows feet and dark puffy bags. His beard was scraggly and reminded you of the way that the Amish men wore their beards. You were startled when your mother stood and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone with Kenny.

"Take a picture it will last longer." Kenny drawled as he dunked his tea bag in and out of his cup.

"I'm good." you squeaked, a wave of embarrassment crashed over you, a bit ashamed at being caught. He made no move to continue the conversation but you were still to curious about why Levi despised him so much.

"Your mom makes a mean earl grey." Kenny's deep baritone filled the silence once again taking you by surprise.

"She does." you agreed, you glanced at the clock, only ten more minutes. Kenny watched you disappear up the stairs, an amused smirk spreading across his lips. He was no fool, he knew that you were apprehensive of him, most likely due to what your big brother and Levi had told you about him. And you would be right to be weary around the older man. When you returned down the stairs, your mother had already returned, she was showing Kenny a small container of screws. The screws were once in Erwin's knee, from when he had injured himself playing lacrosse back in middle school, that was a good story. You didn't want to interrupt them so you didn't say goodbye as you passed. Jean was just pulling up your driveway as you walked out the front door, loud music blaring out of his speakers. You jogged up to the passenger side and hopped in, he had turned down the music and twisted in his seat to face you. You tossed your bag into the back seat and turned to face him. Jean reached across the center counsel and cupped your cheek a fond smile on his lips.

"Hey." you giggled, a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you noticed that he was staring at your lips.

"Hi." he whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss and he rubbed his thumb over your jawline. You brought your own hand up to run over the back of his neck, twisting in the seat to get a better angle in the kiss as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. Jean brushed his tongue along yours, you groaned into his mouth, another dopey smile passing over your features. Suddenly there was a loud thump on your window and you jumped away from Jean with a loud smack as you broke the kiss. You weren't surprised to see Hange with her face pressed against the window and her hands splayed out over the cool glass. The window was now fogged as she breathed heavily onto the glass and you slumped back into your seat, covering your face with a hand. Jean turned to face forward and placed both hands on his wheel in an attempt at innocence. Erwin hovered behind Hange, a frown on his face as he tugged on her shoulder to rip her away from the car. He brought two fingers to his eyes and then pointed them at you in an 'I'm watching you' gesture as he tugged Hange towards his mini van.

"Where are they going?" Jean asked as they walked off.

"Antonio's I think." you answered as you pulled your seat belt on.

"They're really dressed up." Jean noted as he watched Erwin adjust his tie as he held the car door open for Hange. Erwin wore a classy black suit with a black tie, Hange wore a deep purple silk dress that clung to her curves and ended around her mid thigh. You nodded as you watched Erwin shut the door and walk around the car to the drivers side.

"Sure are." you responded as you turned to smile at him. Jean hummed as he shifted the gear to drive and turned around after Erwin pulled out. Jean held his hand out for you which you gladly accepted. Luckily the ride wasn't too long, the town was dark except for the bright light emitting from the Cover Cove. The modest store was a secondhand book shop that doubled as a cafe. The small establishment happened to have a stage in the corner, which they used on the weekends, Fridays was slam poetry night, Saturdays was rock, and Sundays were usually jazz. Jean parked on the street and the two of you quickly gathered your things and hustled into the shop. You had to admit that you didn't come here often, so you were surprised to find out that the shop had managed to purchase the building next to them and knock out the wall to obtain more space. The book shelves that had previously occupied the majority of the space, were now all pushed to one side of the shop to your left. This opened the front of the shop up for seating, an assortment of antique tables and mismatch chairs gave the room a certain flair. The back of the shop was where you ordered drinks or food, a lone barista was manning the counter. You smiled when you recognized Marco, Jean squeezed your bicep as you weaved through the tables to reach the back to order.

"Hey guys how's it going?" Marco chirped as he pumped a syrup into someone's drink.

"Oh not too bad." Jean shrugged as he leaned against the counter, you copied him as you watched Marco finish the order he was working on.

"I didn't know you worked here." you stated with a smile as you watched Marco place the drink on the counter for the customer to retrieve.

"Yeah, it's nothing special I just work weekends." Marco gushed, a blush spreading up his neck and onto his freckled cheeks. Jean scoffed and shook his head at Marco's words.

"Oh come on nobody is crazy enough to only work weekends at a freakin book store." Jean smirked at Marco who rolled his eyes and turned to make another drink.

"At least I'll have some extra cash to spend over the summer." Marco jabbed, a playful smile on his face.

"He's right about that." you agreed with Marco and covered your mouth to hide the smile that was spreading over your face.

"Can't argue with that." Jean smiled at you and gently grabbed your wrist to pull your hand off your face. You looked down sheepishly as Jean rubbed his thumb over your pulse point on your wrist.

"Oh get a room you two." Marco scolded and made shooing motions towards you.

"Can it freckles." Jean chuckled, slipping his hand into your own. The two of you wandered to one the back tables, you draped your coat over the back of the seat and dropped your bag onto the ground. The sound of soft jazz music drifted through the air as the band of older gentlemen played on, the shop was mostly empty except for a few older people who had come to support the small band. Jean watched you pull out your laptop and begin to scroll through emails, he pretended to read his book for English. His eyes were trained on you as you chewed on your lip as you opened an assignment, he noticed how nice your hands looked as you typed, and how your jaw clenched and unclenched as you worked. You paused, lifting your gaze from your laptop and pursing your lips when you caught Jean staring.

"Getting anything done over there?" you mused as he looked down at his book, he shook his head and chuckled.

"No I can't say that I am." he smiled sheepishly as he drummed his fingers on the book.

"Shame." you shrugged and turned your attention back to your work with a smug smile, Jean gasped in mock hurt.

"You could at least give me a hand." Jean huffed as he waved his book in the air. You tilted your head in an attempt to read the cover. Their Eyes Were Watching God a great read, one of your favorites.

"Hm I dunno, if I do it's going to cost ya." you teased as you turned to work on your own homework once more.

"I'll do anything." Jean groaned, he stretched his leg out to brush against your own underneath the table. You kicked his leg in response as you continued to type, Jean sighed and slumped back in his seat. The two of you lingered in the shop until Marco began wiping down tables, sometime around nine o'clock in the evening. You left the shop, promising to come by more as you ducked out into the dark street. Jean and you playfully bumped your shoulders as you walked down the quiet street towards his car, snow crunching underfoot. He opened the door for you and you thanked him. He drove you back to your house, which was already dark, you assumed that your brother was still out with Hange and your mom was probably in bed. Jean parked his car and sighed as he turned to face you.

"Want to come in?" you asked, more out of courtesy than anything. Jean shook his head and tapped his hand against the steering wheel.

"I would but my mom is expecting me.." he blushed as he confessed, you smiled appreciating his honesty. You knew that he was usually embarrassed about his relationship with his mom.

"No that's totally fine, maybe some other time." you smiled as you leaned over to give him a peck on the lips. He smiled and slid his hand up the column of your throat as he kissed you deeper. You pulled back before it could get too spicy, a playful glint in your eye as Jean pouted.

"Another time." Jean agreed, shooting you a dazzling grin. You reached into the back seat for your bag before you opened the door and walked briskly to the house. Once you had entered safely Jean began to pull out, he honked his horn as he disappeared down the drive. You smiled after him and kicked off your shoes. You tiptoed through the house, the dated wood floors creaking under your weight as you crept up the stairs, pausing halfway up. You looked down at the dark living room, the moonlight seeping through the large windows and casting the room in a pale glow. As your eyes scanned over the space you remembered all of the memories that you had in this house, the people that you shared those memories with. But at the end of the day that was all they would be, memories. People change, they grow, that's what life is all about. Every person you meet will eventually slip away and before you know it they are a stranger.

Your stomach flipped when you imagined all the ways that Paris could change Levi. You had seen it before, one of your best friends spent two full months in Switzerland and Italy with her extended family. The girl that you knew, the girl pre Europe, had never tainted her body with alcohol or any other substance. Not that doing so was bad, it just wasn't the kind of person she was, never one to give into such temptations. When she returned at first glance you wouldn't notice the difference. She told stories of the people she had met and the fun day trips she had taken. While over seas she had pierced her bellybutton, it looked good. She had also gone to some parties with her cousins.

When she mentioned the parties it almost seemed as if she had slipped up, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Your friends begged for details, only being freshmen in high school you were all fresh to the party scene. She always came up with a way of changing the subject. You noticed that after the parties were mentioned she would slip into the background of your conversations, folding inward on herself. You hated it, she never did that before. You never found out why she avoided the topic, because only a few months after she returned you and the rest of your friends fully immersed yourselves in the party scene, and she did not follow.

You lost track of her after that year, she went off the grid and moved away, your friends joked that she went back to Italy. You clenched your fist around the banister, bringing you back to the present. That wouldn't happen to Levi, you wouldn't let it. Besides, you were probably just being overdramatic, it was only a month. You let out a shaky breath and continued your climb up the stairs, you felt like a ghost as you wandered down the hall to your door. Once you had reached your room, you slowly closed the door and dropped your bag. You curled your fingers around the hem of your sweater and pulled it over your head. Next you unbuttoned your jeans and shimmied out of them, you fell onto your bed and moaned into your pillow. You glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand and frowned, it was nearing ten and there was still no sign of Erwin or Hange. Just as soon as the thought had crossed your mind you head the front door open followed by the sound of the couple kicking their shoes off and hanging up their coats. The floorboards creaked as they climbed the stairs, you waited for the sound of Erwin's squeaky door opening, but it didn't come.

"Have you heard from Levi yet?" Hange's voice was soft, almost concerned.

"Yeah actually, just as we were paying he texted me." Erwin's voice sounded heavy with exhaustion.

"That's good." Hange mumbled, you sat up in an attempt to hear more.

"Yeah, I hope that he is able to make a decision after this month." Erwin sighed, the floorboards creaked followed by a dull thump. You knew that Erwin was leaning against the wall, and Hange was probably shifting her weight like she does when she's nervous.

"Me too, I think that this trip will be really good for him." Hange affirmed, the rickety floors creaking loudly as she began to pace. You drug yourself to the edge of the bed, ready to get up and poke your head out the door to ask them what they were talking about. Just as your feet touched the cold ground Hange's pacing stopped.

"Look at me Hange. He will be fine." your brother's voice was firm.

"I know, I just..." Hange sniffled and your own eyes filled with tears.

"I just want to be there for him." she choked out, a tear rolled down your cheek, Hange never cried, especially not over Levi.

"So do I but this is the best way that we can be there for him at this time."Erwin reasoned, Hange sniffled and hiccuped a few times before you heard their footsteps retreat towards Erwin's room and you heard the sound of his door swinging open and then closed. Okay, maybe you weren't being dramatic. You stood up and staggered to your bag where your phone was, you pulled it out and unlocked it with shaky fingers. You tapped on your messages, ignoring Jean's good night text and Armin's asking for your weekly schedule for studying. Mikasa had sent you a recipe, Sasha and Connie had been sending you stupid tik toks all weekend. You typed in Levi's name, his contact popping up immediately. You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the picture of his grumpy face before you opened the message and stared at the blinking cursor. Great now what were you supposed to say.

I miss you

Don't change

How was the flight?

Forget me already?

Has it been a month yet?

You scrunched your nose in disgust as you ran through your options. All of them made you sound like a crazy bitch. You pinched the bridge of your nose and stared at the blank conversation. You usually deleted your messages, not that you had accumulated many messages with Levi anyway. How could you show Levi that you were thinking about him without it sounding too deep? A crude joke? Yes that would do, something to do with shit.

"Hope all this traveling doesn't throw off your bowel movements."

You cringed but still pressed send before you could overthink the message. You shut your phone off and slammed it onto the nightstand, your cheeks flaring with hot embarrassment. You made yourself busy by changing into an old hoodie and sliding underneath the covers. You heard your phone ding but made no move to see who texted you. Tomorrow was Monday and you needed to wake up early, he would have to wait until tomorrow, it was only fair. After all, he was making you wait a whole month. He could wait one night. With that you rolled over and snuggled into your covers, your eyes heavy with sleep which you welcomed gladly.

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