#it would be so bad if the old teacher finished the unit with us and we got the new teacher starting with the new unit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

coeurdastronaute · 2 years

Text

Stud 12

Previously on Stud

Despite every effort made to avoid becoming accustomed to the life of her girlfriend and now roommate, Clarke realized, as she sat in her favorite chair on one of the balconies of her penthouse apartment, sipping a wonderful coffee made in an expensive machine, that perhaps she was growing to accept that this might be her life. After three whole years of Lexa Woods, resident former bad girl, workaholic, and model-hunter, the CFO of one of the largest companies on the planet, who with a net worth of her own now moving into the billions-- without even taking into account her shares of her father’s company, was single handedly trying to save corporate culture, the current love of her life, Clarke was getting used to having a rooftop patio with a view of Central Park, among other things.

There was a comprehensive list, Clarke realized, as she lingered away the summer morning in the sun with a book and her coffee. She didn’t mind the trips, suddenly racking up countries she’d never imagined visiting. She didn’t mind that new clothes just appeared in her closet because Lexa’s stylist was happy to do both. She didn’t mind that the house was always clean when they came home.

“Good morning, Ms. Clarke,” Alice called as the front door opened. “I brought you some papayas. They were too good and on sale at the stand. I bought too many so now everyone gets some.”

“You know I love those. Lexa is going to be excited for breakfast.”

Clarke put her book down and made her way inside, carefully pulling on an old shirt over her bikini. The house was already clean. She made sure of it. Somehow between the two of them, there was never really much of a mess, and most of the time the weekly housekeeper didn’t have anything to do, much to her own chagrin, scolding the teacher for not enjoying her summer break.

“You’ll burn if you’re not careful.”

Not yet forty-five, the housekeeper was an immediate favorite with the young couple. She cleaned all of the units on the upper twenty floors of the unit and promptly made herself known the day after they moved in, knocking at ten in the morning and informing them that she did a good job, and with a list of references. It was fortunate that Clarke hadn't been there, and just Lexa opened, because Clarke would have surely reminded her girlfriend that they didn’t need a housekeeper, that it was against her middle-class raising to have someone else fold her underwear.

There had been many things Clarke brought into the relationship that were somewhat knew to her girlfriend. They cooked together at home, alternating turns and trying new things. They went to vintage shops and volunteered together at the animal shelter. There were many things that Clarke got used to, and still, so many things that she couldn’t.

She didn’t mind her weekly visit with Alice though, who would go through the house and find the most obscure things to clean when Clarke had clearly spent the morning already cleaning. It inevitably turned into coffee and lunch, breaking up the day for both. It was where Clarke learned that Alice had two kids and bought her first house, not far from the subway to get to work. It had a yard too, which she was insanely proud of.

“They drive me crazy all summer,” Alica rolled her eyes, picking up the dishes between them after they’d finished the inevitable lunch Clarke always offered.

“They’re cute though. I have some art stuff for you. It’s in a box by the door, I grabbed somethings when I was emptying out my classroom. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You spoil them and you spoil me,” she argued. “Some peace and quiet is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.”

Clarke chuckled to herself as her housekeeper moved to clean the little she could and move on to the next apartment. She offered a ‘see you next week’ before hopping in the shower and thanking the housekeeper again.

It was different, not needing a summer job to survive. It was welcomed, especially since the Woods clan seemed intent on occupying much of their time. But Clarke finished and crept into the spare room that had become her little painting set up, prepared to finish the piece she was going to send her mother for her birthday.

Hours passed, and she never noticed, the light barely changing as the sun slowly migrated, maintaining a high arch over the city, leaping over the skyscrapers in a single, perpetual bound.

So busy and precise she found herself in the quiet of the room, that she didn’t hear the loud greeting from her girlfriend. Nor did she think much of the time. But Lexa leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and smiling to herself until Clarke caught her in the corner of her eye.

“Goodness, you startled me.”

“I really like coming home to you.”

“You can’t say that every day.”

“Why not?” Lexa furrowed. “It’s the truth.”

And it was, today more than ever, with her paint smeared overalls and hair up in a still damp bun, wearing Lexa’s old company softball shirt with a whole near the collar and sleeve. Lexa wanted to keep walking out of the door and walking back in, just to find her there, real and happy and perfect.

“How did it go?”

“Really well. Nice easy day.”

“What are you making for dinner?”

“Oh, you’re hungry, Monet?” Lexa cocked her head as Clarke grabbed her handkerchief to wipe off her hands. “Could I interest you in some honey garlic salmon with fresh asparagus on a bed of wild rice?”

“You’re going to make all of that?” Clarke grinned.

“I am. I’ve been plotting all day. And then we’re going to take a bath, with wine.”

“I haven’t done anything of substance all day.”

“You did this,” Lexa nudged her chin, looking at the painting that was nearing completion. “And this is much more substantial than anything I’ve done in a long time.”

Arms moved around her collar as Lexa leaned her chin on her head, kissing where her jaw and ear met, hovering there and kissing even more until she earned a giggle.

“Besides, we’ve only lived here a month. You’re allowed to nest before we’re whisked across the globe this summer. I did the math,” she explained, gazing still at the artwork. “In eight weeks, we’re only going to sleep here six nights.”

“So I should nest while I have the chance.”

“Right. You won’t have a shot until September, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, the perils of dating you.”

“Astounding we’ve made it so long.”

“Truly.”

With the final word, Clarke hugged her girlfriends arms tighter around her own neck and kissed her forearm. It was certainly a lot to get used to, but this moment made all else pale in comparison.

XXXXXXXXXX

The first trip of their summer was not exactly what Lexa had in mind when it came to impressing her roommate slash girlfriend with grandeur and grace. In fact, it was going to be the worst part of her summer, and that included going to an ex’s wedding and being dragged to her girlfriend’s hometown for a different wedding. This was a work trip, for all of the highest executives from across the globe, and Lexa had a large presentation to give. She actually had a lot of things she had to do, more so than any other year.

This was her father’s baby-- he’d been doing it since the company went public. The wilderness retreat that was actually an upscale lodge, break out groups to introduce different people from different aspects of the company, different divisions, talking through problems, enjoying each other, striving for more.

“What should we go to first?” Alex asked, flipping through the program. “I’m thinking the networking event, and then the Innovations meeting. I also love listening into the HR sessions sometimes.”

“While you get to go mingle and be beloved by all, I have my own programs to put on,” Lexa shook her head, carefully tucking in her shirt.

Lazily, Alex flipped another page, sprawled out on the couch, bouncing his foot slightly.

“I suppose I should stop in to see your talk. I’ve spent a pretty penny on this passion project of yours. And Maggie isn’t especially cheap.”

Lexa chuckled and adjusted her collar, unbuttoning another button before putting on her watch. Her brother was lucky. He was at a hockey camp. Lexa wondered what learning a sport might cost in order to never have to give a talk again.

“Aren’t you nervous about your orientation address?”

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight, I get to hold up a glass of champagne and thank everyone for their hard work. It’s easy. Where’s Clarke? I made sure to give you guys the nicer suite you know. Because I am not only an excellent father, but a remarkable wingman.”

“She already went down to the party. Something about me taking too long and wanting to the crab puffs.”

“There’s crab puffs?” her father sat up at the news.

The CFO shook her head and checked herself one final time in the mirror, hoping to avoid all manners of conversations with Clarke as her buffer, and so that she could escape early. She wanted to go over her programs again, prepare for the onslaught of questions, prep her panel of experts. The only real silver lining she felt was that as nervous and excited as she was, at least Maggie felt it worse.

“Let’s go,” Lexa finally sighed, shoving her phone in her pocket.

She could enjoy tonight, she decided. Her father’s excitement was contagious enough, and Clarke’s decided approach to enjoy this worst part of their summer travels was a little infectious as well. Once this was over, it was smooth sailing, for the most part.

The father and daughter crunched across the gravel toward the grand ballroom, the lights flooding outside as a band played politely from somewhere. It was warm and relaxed, and for the most part, Lexa understood why her father enjoyed it.

“I’m going to find the crab puffs,” Alex decided as they walked in, and he waved to a group of people.

“I’m going to find my girlfriend.”

“Maybe I should start dating,” she heard her father mumble as she moved her way toward the bar.

It was never especially difficult to find Clarke, Lexa realized, somehow. They’d been together long enough that it felt like a beacon? That seemed silly. She wasn’t a homing pigeon, except maybe with Clarke that was how it worked. Sparrows could return to the same place every year, why would it be crazy to think that she could just know where her girlfriend was in a crowd. Maybe it was the practice of the various events and parties they were dragged to by friends and work and families. Maybe it was the little bit of magic. Maybe it was the fact that Lexa liked finding her girlfriend leaning against a table, content and eager to see her as well.

Lexa shook a few hands, happy to see some people she’d known her entire life, more eager to escape them and how excited they all were for her talks.

It took longer than she would have liked, to find Clarke, grinning and leaning against the bar, tucked into a corner by a broad shoulder man who leaned there, swirling his drink and undressing her with her eyes. It wasn’t often that Lexa got jealous, though not because people didn’t flirt with or look at her girlfriend. She was always a little jealous. For some reason, perhaps the nerves from the impending speech, perhaps from the weeks of time she’d been busier than she would have liked, perhaps it was just a jealous streak she’d been cursed with, though couldn’t discover in her genetics as far as she could tell.

Lexa ordered a drink at the bar, smiling politely at the bartender. Sometimes, she talked herself out of her jealousy with the simple fact that Clarke had to deal with running into many girls that’d seen Lexa naked at these kinds of events. Clarke put up with much worse, while Lexa only dealt with strangers at their favorite bar, or the misguided gentleman at a concert or event.

Tonight, it wasn’t working.

She watched this strange man put his best work on her girlfriend, smirking into her glass as Clarke looked back at him, listening to whatever he’d been saying. He was handsome. Ivy League, Lexa guessed, as she was quite familiar with the lot. He seemed cocky, perhaps too much, but this was the kind of event where people did that.

It took until he touched her, that Lexa placed her drink down with more force than necessary, and slipped through the crowd to reach them. It wasn’t until she was nearly upon them that Clarke met her eyes and eased slightly.

“Good evening,” Lexa smiled slightly. One hand in her pocket, another adjusting her suit.

“I think we’re fine here,” he nodded before looking at anyone else but Clarke.

“I’m sure,” she chuckled. Clarke rolled her eyes as a hand slid to her back. “Thanks for keeping her company. I hate leaving Clarke unattended with all these sharks around. Glad it was someone so... “ she looked him up and down. She felt Clarke pinch her side. “Unthreatening to keep her from getting lonely.”

That was all it took, for him to cock his head and scowl at the newest addition to the conversation.

“Lex, this is…” Clarke furrowed for a moment, further adding to his annoyance. “This is Josh--Jona-- John. Yes, this is John Miller.”

“Mailer,” he met Lexa’s look. “John Mailer.”

Realization took just a few seconds, but Lexa saw it happen as he stared from her down to her hand and back to her eyes. She watched him deflate, and couldn’t remember a better feeling.

“It’s a pleasure.”

“I hadn’t-- I didn’t…” he began.

“Where is it that you’re from, John?”

“I’m… I’m out of San Fran. Indra promoted me before she moved back.”

“That’s swell. I would love to hear about everything out there, but I think we’re supposed to find my dad for some pictures.”

“He never knows which way to face,” Clarke nodded as she allowed Lexa to pull her to the side.

“John Mailer. I couldn’t forget that name if I tried,” Lexa called to him, patting his shoulder. “Wonderful to meet you.”

“Yeah, uh, likewise,” he nodded before turning to the bar.

When she looked over her shoulder after a few steps, she saw him shake his head, leaning over the bar, ordering another stiff drink. When she looked back at her girlfriend, she earned a scowl and chiding.

“You didn’t have to do that. I was having a perfectly lovely conversation about his niece and her art. She’s seven and does dinosaurs.”

“That man did not want to discus dinosaurs with you,” Lexa scoffed, tightening her grip on her girlfriend’s waist. “He wanted to get you back to his suite.”

“It was an innocent conversation.”

“He touched your arm.”

“Were you seriously jealous of him?”

“I bet he went to some second tier Ivy, too,” Lexa grumbled, making Clarke smile. “Like Cornell. Or God, some West Coast Ivy like USC.”

“So you’re jealous and a snob all of a sudden?”

Lexa stopped walking, causing Clarke to stop as well. She grinned and shook her head.

“This isn’t all of a sudden. I’m always jealous. You’re mine and I don’t share my things well with others.”

“Lucky I’m not a thing then,” Clarke challenged.

“Of course not. But you are mine.”

“I think it’s the other way around. You’re mine.”

Lexa faltered slightly, the grin shifting to one side on her girlfriend’s lips. It was welcomed and Lexa was prepared to admit defeat. The pair just gazed at each other, sizing up the demands of the other. It was a conversation of imperceptible shifts in facial muscles. They were becoming fluent. Lexa was grateful she invited her girlfriend, and that said girlfriend was so kind as to come along.

“There’s a hot tub back at the suite,” Lexa whispered, standing close. “We haven’t gotten to use it yet.”

“Might do well to relax you since you’re set on being jealous and snobbish for no good reason.”

“There was reason--”

“None at all.”

“Let’s go. I’ll tell my dad I’m sick. Maybe dying unfortunately.”

“Thank goodness, people I know,” a voice interrupted them. “Well, at least that I didn’t once sleep with in college.”

Lexa knit her eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath before pulling away from her girlfriend.

“How’s it going, Maggie?” Clarke smiled, hugging her tightly.

“Well, we’re presenting three months worth of research tomorrow, and this one keeps asking me to try new things. I don’t know how you put up with her insatiability.”

Lexa coughed into her glass as soon as she went to take a sip from one of the passing waiters’ trays. Clarke just nodded, agreeing quickly.

“Do you guys want to go over your outline with me again. I feel like I can give the presentation.”

“I won’t subject you to it.”

“We were just about to head back to the suite.”

“Like hell you’re abandoning me here,” Maggie snorted.

“We’d never,” Clarke promised, linking there arms. She flashed a smile at her girlfriend, innocent and kind and knowing full well what she was doing.

Lexa growled into her glass and followed obediently.

XXXXXXXXX

While a week-long retreat in some square shaped state seemed like the most boring way to spend the start of her summer break, Clarke decided she was an idiot for even thinking it just for an instant as she watched Lexa on the stage of the smaller break out group and went over her most recent findings and what she was hoping to begin rolling out to much more of the company as a whole. To see Lexa with something she was passionate about, it was pure fire, and Clarke couldn’t look away.

There was still their trip to Palm Springs for her ex’s wedding, there was still the trip back home for Octavia’s, there was still a few weeks in London with Maggie, and a trip camping in the great Canadian wilderness with the Woods’ clan, as well as a mandated surprise trip somewhere warm and with a beach for just the pair before returning home-- to their home, their perfectly nested home the cohabitation in.

“She looks pretty smart up there,” Alex leaned over and whispered to Clarke.

“She’s really excited about this. Thanks for firing her.”

He chuckled and adjusted his glasses, almost the exact same way his daughter had a habit of doing.

“I can never thank you enough for giving me my daughter back.”

Clarke froze slightly and chanced a look at the richest man she’d ever met in her life. And while he didn’t look back, she knew he knew. A hand moved to her shoulder, rubbing softly as an arm leaned along the back of her chair.

“I dream of us not interviewing people to just fill positions, but rather having people begging to work with us. I want us to be leaders in everything, and that means reconditioning corporate policies to be more human. We all have to work to make money to live our lives, but I am not going to ask someone for their work to be their whole lives.”

“She is so much like her mother, it’s... “ Alex sighed, happily. “Good luck.”

Clarke smiled to herself, transfixed.

XXXXXXXXXX

“How does it feel, to be done?” Clarke asked, tossing her shoes gracelessly across the room, kicking with a little gusto due to the drinks she’d been plied with in celebration at Maggie’s bungalow.

Lexa twirled the keys in her hand, watching the display, slightly amused at everything that her girlfriend was capable of being adorable at doing, somehow drunk, included on the list.

“Do you think it went well?”

“If I wasn’t already, I’d have fallen in love with the way you spoke,” Clarke grinned, twirling around to watch Lexa toss her keys on the counter. “You were so excited and honest and smart up there. So smart.”

“I’m not just a brain, you know,” Lexa tsk’d. “I’m in decent shape if you’d like to ogle my body.”

“I wouldn’t mind. Pull off your tie for me.”

It wasn’t often Lexa followed commands so quickly, but she felt free, finally, from all her preparation, from all of the expectations. She tugged on her tie, twisting her neck slightly before tossing it on the floor.

“Take off your jacket, and belt, and watch, and rings.”

From her spot on the corner of the bed, Clarke crossed her legs and leaned forward, watching her girlfriend follow the directives. The jacket was folded, once over, before being placed on a chair. The belt was tugged, left with a clunk on the counter, the rings joining quietly after that in comparison. Lexa waited for the next round of instructions, hands jammed in her pockets.

“Take off your shirt.”

Lexa shifted her foot, moving with each button until she was standing in front of her girlfriend, able to be touched if she really wanted. The shirt fell into a pile on the floor near their feet. But there wouldn’t be anymore orders. Clarke found herself on her back, legs wrapping around a waist.

“My turn,” Lexa whispered, earning a giggle.

“I was doing a good job.”

“My. Turn.”

181 notes · View notes

study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Stars on your Sleeve (Part 2) [A Jay Halstead Imagine]

A/N: The name of the girl is Y/N (I mostly write my imagines in second person POV...except for the one you guys might see in a few weeks) and cariña is just a nickname/term of endearment in Spanish that means sweetheart. Sorry if anyone got confused about that in part one!

"Dad," you started as you walked into Jay's office after school that day.

It was a Thursday and you had taken the bus from school to the district. It wasn't often that you did this, but you had gotten texts from both your mom and dad telling you that the current case was going to drag on and on tonight, so they wanted you at the district so that you wouldn't be home alone until two or three o'clock in the morning.

"Hi, cariña. How was your day? Learn anything interesting in school?"

"Dad," you groaned. "It's high school, half the stuff they teach me I won't ever use again."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to know about my daughter's day."

"Just can't wait for this week to be over to sleep in."

"You and me both, kid."

"Half the time you work weekends though, Dad," you pointed out.

"Comes with the sergeant title."

"And your sleeping in is like 7:00."

"Point taken. Now, did Mom pack you a few extra snacks or do you need some money for the vending machines?"

"She didn't--"

"Don't even finish that sentence, young lady," Hailey said as she burst into Jay's office. "I packed you a few extra things and you know it. You just want--"

"--Oreos," Jay and Hailey said at the same time.

"Hey, don't blame me! They taste good," you protested. "Anyway, Dad, can I use your laptop to do my homework?"

"Don't you have that school-issued one?"

"That one blocks Netflix."

Jay crossed his arms across his chest. "Homework, huh?"

"I'm just writing a paper. It's not like I'm doing math or reading something."

"What type of paper?" Hailey asked. "Because, I'm pretty sure that if it's a research paper, you need to focus."

"It's a narrative, so I don't need to be constantly focused, Mom."

"Makayla does the same thing," Adam said as he entered the office as well. "Let the kid have the laptop, Jay."

"Thanks, Adam."

"Uh," Jay groaned, "I guess."

"We also have a lead, so you wanna roll out after I give you the info?" Adam asked.

"Yeah. Sorry, Y/N, you need to go into the breakroom now."

"But why can't I stay in here?" you whined. "I want your spinny chair."

"Y/N, this is a case," your mom told you. "You know the rules: no being around the case talk. It's for your own good, we don't want to scar or scare you."

Mom, you know what I've seen, you wanted to tell her, but you knew it would be no use as your parents would never budge on this rule.

"I know, Mom."

Jay pulled his laptop from his desk along with the charger. "Rules?" he probed, holding onto the laptop and charger.

"Dad, I know the rules. Mom, c'mon, tell him."

"It's your dad's laptop, Y/N. I'm not arguing with you or him on this one."

Jay cocked his head to the side. "I'll give you the laptop after you tell me the rules...even though I know you know them."

You sighed. You went through this every time you used his laptop when he was going to be gone. "Only use my account, don't try to login to your account, and do not delete my search history."

"Here you go." He handed you his laptop and charger. "Good luck on your paper. Don't work too hard."

You went into the breakroom and opened the laptop. First, you pulled up Netflix, and then you pulled up your paper. It was your paper for your senior portfolio, which most people were putting off, seeing as you were only a freshman, you didn't need to work on it yet. But, you knew it had to be long, so starting it now would probably be helpful.

The paper was basically a narrative telling a story about each year of school. The stories had to be from two to five pages long, which meant that the paper in its entirety would be between 26 and 65 pages long. But, you didn't mind. It's not like you had to write a boring research paper. You also had to write about your career goals and one wish for your future as well, which would make the paper even longer still.

Seeing as your schooling didn't exactly match up with the American school system until you were around nine and in third grade, you had gotten permission from your teacher to just write about the sections of kindergarten, first, and second grade, as just memories from when you were six, seven, and eight years old.

You'd save the memories of six and seven for later, since you'd have to dig into the part of your brain where you were in the orphanage with your older sister, Illiana.

For now, you just scribbled down a few lines for ideas of when you were eight years old...which was pretty simple since a lot happened in your life that year.

***

"Y/N, we brought you some food if you--"

"Shut up!" Mouse hissed as the rest of the unit clambered up the stairs and into the bullpen. "She's sleeping."

Yes, when Mouse came home he returned to his job as the tech analyst of the Intelligence Unit. And, when Jay became sergeant, he pulled a few strings and got him a huge salary increase.

"I'll pull the car around front," Hailey offered.

"No," Jay whined. "That means I gotta be the bad guy and wake her up."

"Sorry, babe. I call dibs."

"Ew, guys, please keep the lovey-dovey nicknames to home. I don't need to see that," Adam joked.

"Shut up, Ruz."

Hailey swiped the keys from Jay's office and Jay went to wake you up. But, before he did, he saw the laptop, still open to both Netflix and your paper.

There wasn't much in the paper yet, as Jay had expected, only a few bullet points. His name caught his eye below the age 8 section...whatever that meant. He didn't mean to pry (well, really he did), but he closed the laptop without logging you out so that he and Hailey could take a look at it later.

"Y/N, Y/N, wake up."

You were woken up by someone gently shaking your shoulder.

"Quiero dormir, vaya," you whined. That was one thing you always did: reverted back to Spanish when you were tired. At least both Jay and Hailey understood it now because they had learned Spanish...which helped them with parenting because when they were mad at you, they'd talk in Spanish and that's how you know you were in deep shit.

"I know you want to sleep, and I'm not leaving," Jay answered. "But, we're going home so you can sleep in your bed instead of here."

"Mmmm, okay," you mumbled. You rubbed your eyes, but then decided it was too much work to get up, so you just sat up and closed your eyes once again.

"C'mon, cariña. Mom's got the car out front and then all you gotta do is stay awake until we get home, okay?"

"Mmmm," you mumbled and then stood up. He already had your backpack slung over his shoulder and was holding his laptop in the other hand. "Can I skip school tomorrow? I'm tired."

"Not a chance," Jay chuckled. "But, I can drive you to school and we can get you a frappucino on the way there."

"Mom won't be mad?"

"We don't have to tell Mom everything now do we?"

"No, we don't."

***

"What are you doing?" Hailey asked Jay as she slid into bed next to him that night. "Are you seriously checking our daughter's search history this late at night? C'mon Jay, she's a good kid. You won't find anything."

"That's not what I'm looking at. But, now that you mention it, I should probably check that, too."

"Then, what are you reading? Because I know for a fact that your case notes are definitely not as organized as that."

"Wow, Hails, you're so sweet," Jay said sarcastically. "It's Y/N's paper. The rubric was pasted at the top and it looks like she has to write about a memory from each year of her life and her career goals and a wish for the future."

"And you were snooping because...?"

"Because I saw my name. I wanna see what she says about us, Hailey."

"Jay, she loves us, baby. We're her parents. We both know that. You don't need to read her schoolwork to know that."

"Either way, I'm still reading it. Join me if you want, or go to sleep."

"Uh, fine. But if she asks, this was your idea and I will not hesitate to throw you under the bus."

Age 8, they both read to themselves, leaving/running away from orphanage

"God, no matter how many years it's been since she told us what happened, it never fails to break my heart," Hailey said.

Jay wrapped one arm around his wife. "I know, babe. I feel the exact same way."

"Hey, Y/N," the therapist started and you looked up at her. "Do you want to in that room over there and watch some tv while I talk to jay and Hailey? I can even turn on the Spanish movies for you."

"Okay!"

After getting you all set up, she left you in the room with a Spanish children's movie playing while she went to get Jay and Hailey.

"Jay and Hailey?" she asked as she entered the waiting room.

"Dr. Smith," Jay greeted.

"I have something to tell both of you, and Y/N told me it was okay that I tell you. When I asked if she wanted to be the one to tell you this, she said no because she didn't want to make you sad."

They entered the room where you had previously been and Dr. Smith sat in a chair and Jay and Hailey sat on the couch.

"What's this about?" Hailey asked.

"Well, she told me why she ran away from the orphanage."

Jay and Hailey were shocked. You'd been with them for three months and hadn't once mentioned why you ran away and what happened before Jay found you. It wasn't for lack of trying on Hailey and Jay's part, though. They tried. After all, they knew how to talk to child victims. But, they didn't want to push you too hard, and eventually, they just dropped the topic all together because they knew you'd talk about it when you were ready. Apparently, today was the day that you were ready to tell that story.

"And?" Jay pushed. "Why'd she run away?"

"She said that they came for her, the people who you were fighting," Dr. Smith said.

"Los Rebeldes," Jay said, more to Hailey than to anyone else.

"They came for her specifically?" Hailey asked.

"No, they just came to the orphanage. She said that she heard voices--male voices--telling them to get down on the ground and then some shots rang out. Her sister, Illiana, told her to hide and slipped the necklace around her neck. So, she did. She said she closed her eyes really tight and she just laid there, hiding and barely breathing. She said she heard a gunshot and then she heard Illiana scream and she heard squishing noises."

"Oh my God," Hailey gasped.

"You're saying they shot and killed her?" Jay asked, his voice cracking.

"That's what it sounded like, yes."

"How did she get out?"

"She said that she snuck out through a small door in the back of the room. She said it wasn't a real door, but it was a small door that led to the outside, by her description, it sounded about three feet tall and two feet wide."

"The waste doors," Jay muttered.

"The what?" Hailey asked.

"The waste doors...well, that's what we called them on Base anyway. They were these little doors where you could place stuff outside. Sometimes we'd put the packaging of our MRE's there or other crap we didn't need anymore. Not good for the planet, but yeah, that's what we did."

"So, Jay, you're telling me that Y/N essentially snuck out of the orphanage through a trash chute?"

"Well, we used them for waste, which is why we called them waste doors. But, I heard rumors of them being used at orphanages for parents to put their baby in a crib. They'd just open the door and place the baby in the little crib on the other side of the door."

"She moved the crib and snuck out through there?"

"If there was a crib, then she moved it and got out. If not, she just crawled out through there."

"Did she tell you anything about when she left?" Hailey asked Dr. Smith.

"She said that she didn't have much with her, just her teddy bear and that locket. But, she said that she walked for the rest of the day. And, according to her timeline, the soldiers came right after breakfast. She said she was really scared that they were going to find her and so she just kept walking. But then, she found a bit of a forest it sounded like and since it was starting to get dark and cold, she laid down."

"I found her in the middle of the night and she must've been there since sunset. No wonder she was hypothermic."

"We got her her first banana split after that therapy session," Hailey said. "I honestly don't know whether the food was to get her to try something new or to comfort us."

"Yeah, that was a rough night. I didn't even want her to leave my arms," Jay said. "Jay found me and I went home to Chicago," he read aloud. "Man, that night was rough, too. Probably worse than the night where we found out why she left."

"Now, it's crowded here, cariña so stay cerca to us or go mano a mano with me or Hailey, okay?" Jay asked you as the three of you found a parking spot at Navy Pier.

Adam, Kim, Kevin, and Will were all there as well. They had planned to go out and party and go to a bar when Jay returned home, but that changed now that he and Hailey had a kid to take care of, so they had decided to take a trip to Navy Pier.

In the airport, Jay had gotten a huge coffee from Starbucks, seeing as he had barely slept on the way home. Before coming to Navy Pier, you had gone to a place called iHOP where you had gotten some really yummy pancakes, and Adam, Kevin, and Will had made you laugh a lot and Kim spoke Spanish with you.

"What does that word mean?" you asked.

"What word?" Jay asked, looking down at you as he took your hand.

"Cr-crowded," you sounded out slowly.

"Uh, it means there's lots and lots of people."

"Oh, okay. I stay by you."

"So Y/N, what do you like to do?" Will asked you.

"I like reading and play fútbol," you told him.

"Really? Jay loves playing soccer!"

"We played back at the big house in España," you told Will excitedly. "We won and I got lots and lots of goals."

"Looks like you have a pro soccer player on your hands, little brother," Will said to Jay.

"Don't I know it."

"We go on the big thingy you showed me in the little book in the plane?" you asked Jay.

"The Ferris wheel?" You nodded excitedly. "We can do that, but let's walk around first. We might be able to play some games and win you a friend for Osito."

"Really? Osito have a friend?"

"Really," Jay promised.

As you walked down Navy Pier, you were excitedly pointing out every little thing you saw from the ducks and the seagulls to the big yachts floating down the Chicago River.

"Let's go into Garrett's, babe," Hailey suggested when they were inside the big atrium. "Give her a taste of Chicago's world-famous popcorn."

"I think that's a great idea," Jay agreed. "What do you think, cariña? Want to try some popcorn and then we'll get your favorite?"

You tilted your head to the side. "Popcorn? What is that?"

"Palomitas," Kim clarified for you in Spanish. "Hay muchos tipos diferentes de palomitas allí para probar y comprar."

"Oh, okay. Yes, please."

"What did you say to her?" Hailey whispered to Kim.

"Just gave her the Spanish translation of popcorn and then told her that there's a bunch of different types of popcorn that she can try and buy in there. But, you and Jay most definitely have your work cut out for you when it comes to learning Spanish. You're lucky that she's pretty good with English already and that I'm here to help you learn Spanish."

***

"Sleepy, cariña?" Jay asked as he heard you yawn from the backseat.

Hailey was driving and he was holding a big bag of caramel and cheddar popcorn...which Hailey was telling him not to eat all of it because she knew he would. You were in the backseat with your big stuffed bear, whom you had named Osita since she was a girl bear because she had really soft white fur and a pink ribbon tied around her. Jay had won that for you when he played a shooting game. You also had a stuffed duck that Will had won for you when he played a guess the weight game. You named him Pato...which meant duck in Spanish. You had gone on the Ferris wheel and had pointed out all the pretty things in the sky when you were up there. Hailey had never seen Jay so happy as when he was smiling wide at every little thing you pointed out and he tried to explain to you what they were.

"No," you answered as you laid your head against Osita. It was currently 3 pm Chicago time, which made it about 9 pm Spain time.

"Tell you what," Hailey started, "When we get home, we can show you your room, and then we can watch a movie and eat this popcorn. Because, if we don't start eating it soon, Jay will eat it all."

"Jay eat it all if we no eat it too?"

"Jay eats a lot," Hailey joked.

You reached your hand in front of you and towards Jay. "Palomitas please." Jay chuckled and Hailey smiled as he put some popcorn into your little outstretched hand. "Gracias."

"De nada," Jay told you.

"When we watch movie, how I get it?" you asked.

"We get it on the tv," Jay told you.

"No, how I know what they saying?"

Hailey hadn't thought that far ahead when she had suggested watching a movie. "Um," Hailey faltered. "We can make it so it's in Spanish."

"But then you no know what they say," you pointed out.

"We can put words on the bottom of the screen in English for us," Jay suggested. "Then all three of us will know what they're saying. Is that okay?"

"Okay!"

"Hailey," Jay whispered. "What are we gonna watch?"

"She's too old for princesses probably and way too young for action movies...how about Disney Channel movies? We could try High School Musical? That one's pretty good."

"You're kidding Hails. You watched that? Didn't it come out when we were like 20 or 25?"

Hailey held back a laugh. "Yes, it did. But, I babysat a lot of kids in my neighborhood who were around Y/N's age, and we'd always end up watching those Disney Channel originals."

"Okay, whatever you say, babe."

***

"I think I'm gonna bring her to bed," Jay said.

You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie. Before starting it, you had seen your room. It was purple! And, in black letters behind your bed, it said Salon de Y/N, which meant Y/N's room. Jay assumed that Kim had helped Hailey with the spelling and the boys had helped move the furniture into your room. There was also a little basket with a few things they thought you would like, such as a few different colored soccer balls and a bookshelf.

On the bookshelf, Hailey had picked out some books in Spanish that she had found at Barnes and Noble and some short chapter books in English that she used to read as a kid, such as the Nancy Drew series and Little House on the Prairie. She knew that you might need help reading them and might not be able to completely understand them all by yourself yet, but she knew that she and Jay would be there to help you.

"It's 6:00," Hailey protested. "Shouldn't we wake her up and have her stay awake for a few more hours so that her body can adjust?"

"If you're asking an adult like me that, yes, I'd stay awake. But, she's a kid. She needs her sleep. And, I'll probably be up before you anyway, so I can deal with her if she wakes us up at five in the morning."

"Okay super dad," Hailey joked. "Bring her to bed. I'll make us a quick dinner and cover this popcorn so it doesn't get stale. Can't wait for us to go to bed tonight." She winked.

"Hails, as much as I would love to take you up on that, I don't think it's a good idea when it's Y/N's first night. But, I will give you all the cuddles in the world tonight, don't you worry about that."

"As long as you didn't pick up the habit of snoring overseas then I'm all for that, babe."

***

Jay woke up to the sound of soft whimpering. It sounded like it was coming from the hallway but he couldn't be sure. He reached over Hailey and was about to grab her gun from her drawer where he knew that she kept it, but stopped when he remembered that it was probably just you. It wasn't just Jay and Hailey in the house anymore; you were there as well and that's probably where the noise was coming from. And, he didn't want to scare you by holding a gun.

He glanced over at the clock. 3 am. Yeah, sounds about right that you'd be waking up right about now since you'd slept for about nine hours and it was 9 am in Spain right now.

Jay slowly tiptoed out into the hallway, cursing himself that he hadn't left a light on or kept his and Hailey's bedroom door open so you could find them easily.

Jay reached out for the hall light switch and flicked on the lights, causing you to jump. "Hey, hey, it's just me. It's just Jay," he said calmly once he laid eyes on you. You were holding Osito and there were fresh tears running down your cheeks.

Jay never knew the force of an eight-year-old running into him could be so strong as to almost knock him over. You dropped Osito and wrapped your arms around him as if your life depended on it.

"It's okay, it's okay," Jay soothed. "What's wrong, cariña? Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I-I no know where I was," you mumbled into his shirt. "Was dark. Think you and Hailey left, so I came to find you."

"Oh, sweetie," Jay started. "I'm sorry. I forgot to turn the light on for you in your room so that you'd know where you are. And, me and Hailey would never leave you."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Your stomach grumbled. "Hungry?" you nodded. "Alright, let's get you a sandwich and then get you back to bed."

"You eat too?" you asked.

"You know, I could go for a sandwich."

***

The next morning, Hailey rolled over to see that Jay wasn't in bed next to her and his side of the bed was cold. Then, she remembered you and walked over to your room and slowly opened the door. You looked up from the Spanish book you were reading and put a finger to your lips.

"Jay sleeping," you told Hailey.

Jay was sitting upright in your bed against the headboard, his thumb holding a place in what looked to be a Nancy Drew book.

"Did Jay read to you last night, huh?" Hailey asked as she walked closer to you and Jay.

"Yeah, he told me that Nancy does what you and Jay do with policia. Then, I sleep again and then I wake up and he sleep again, so I started reading in Spanish."

"I think we should let him sleep a little more while we go finish High School Musical and eat palomitas before Jay eats it all. Does that sound good?"

You nodded eagerly and closed your book. Then, you got out of bed and followed Hailey out of your room. And, after hearing that Jay had read to you and seeing him sleeping upright in your bed so that you'd be able to sleep, she had one more reason why she was truly head over heels for the man she married and got to call her husband.

"Look, Jay. She wrote her birthday in here for age 9," Hailey said as she pointed to the laptop screen.

"God, I don't think I'll forget that day for the rest of my life. It was such a good day."

"You are such a sap when it comes to Y/N."

"Hey! let me be sappy about our daughter, Hailey Anne. She's in high school now, high school. That means she'll be going off to college soon."

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, sergeant," she joked. "Just keep reading this. It was your idea to snoop through her stuff after all."

"Jay, you got the stuff?" Hailey asked as she was sitting cross-legged on their bedroom floor with wrapping paper, tape, and scissors in front of her.

"Jesus, Hails," Jay laughed, "You make it sound like we're doing a drug deal."

"Well sorry if I want her birthday to go really well. Now, did you get them or not?"

"They're in here." He set a plastic bag down on the bed. He took out three framed pictures and laid them out on the bed. Of course, he made sure that the frames were different shades of purple. "Good?"

Hailey stood up and looked at the pictures. "I never know the CPD's sketch software could work miracles like this, so yeah, I'd say we did good."

Over the past month, everyone in Intelligence had told you that they were testing out a new sketch software to use to try to track down criminals. They let you play with it because they said they wanted to see what it would do...even though they knew what it did, how good it was, and it wasn't new. It was just a ploy to make sure they got your birthday gift right. They had told you to try and input someone's face from memory, someone like your older sister, Illiana.

So, when you had to go to the district for the day with Jay and Hailey, you'd ask to play with that software to work on your sketch. Little did you know, they were printing it out on fancy photo paper and putting it in a frame for your birthday. Jay had also swiped your necklace one day when you had taken it off to go swimming and had taken pictures of what your mom and dad looked like. Then, he and Hailey each took one parent and worked on making their faces through the CPD's sketch software.

"Now what the hell is this?" Jay asked as he held up a big board that Hailey had laying out in front of her as well.

"That, Jay, is so we can stick the back of the frames to it so that we don't have to give the three of them to her separately. Then, she can just take them off from it and place them wherever she wants in her room."

"You're smart. Maybe you should've gone to law school."

"Haha, very funny, Halstead. But then I wouldn't have met you."

"Eh, I beg to differ. You'd probably end up being some prosecution or defense attorney and then I'd have to testify, and after getting yelled at by you on the stand, I'd end up making an ass of myself and ask you out for a drink."

"Is that so?"

"That is very much so."

He walked up to her and grabbed her by the waist and she gave him a peck on the lips. "Hails," Jay whined. "Why'd you phone it in?"

"Because we have presents to wrap. Now, sit your ass down on the carpet and help me."

"Yes ma'am. But, damn, you're really going to be the death of me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

***

"Before we do cake everyone, me and Hailey have one more gift for Y/N," Jay announced by tapping a fork gently against his champagne glass. Yes, the adults were drinking champagne because they were celebrating your first birthday with them as their kid. No, they wouldn't even give you one sip...but you didn't care and you didn't ask.

You had gotten spoiled all day. Will had taken you out for breakfast where you had gotten chocolate chip pancakes with all the toppings. Then, he took you to the sporting goods store where you bought an FC Madrid jersey and to Barnes Noble where you bought a few new books.

Then, when you got home, you were surprised to find everyone from Intelligence there along with some people from Med, and firehouse 51. Emilia, Mouse, and Makayla were there, and your friend, Rosa, whom Emilia had introduced you to earlier in the year at her welcome home party since Rosa was one of Emilia's little cousins.

You had gone outside and played a huge soccer game. And, when you got sick of playing soccer, Emilia busted out a makeup kit she had bought for you. And you, Makayla, Emilia, and Rosa did each other's makeup. While the four of you were doing makeup, a soccer tournament had broken out where Intelligence played Med, and then the winner of that game played Firehouse 51. Intelligence won against Med...mostly due to Jay. But, then they played 51 and they got creamed.

"Here you go, nena," Hailey said as she passed you the gift. Hailey had started calling you nena since Jay had a nickname for you, cariña, which you learned now meant sweetheart in English. So, she decided to call you nena, which meant honey. And, you and Hailey had thought it only fair if you came up with a nickname for Jay. So, the one you decided on was quite fitting in your mind: pecas...which translated to freckles. And, Will, well Will calls you Osa because your favorite animal is a bear. It's probably one of only three words he knows in Spanish next to hola and adios.

The gift was long and hard...like a piece of wood. You slowly opened the gift, wondering what else you could have possibly gotten.

You bit your lip as you finished tearing the paper off and flipped it over. "Mamí, Papí, Illiana," you whispered as you held back tears. "¿Cómo lo hicisteis?" you asked. Seeing as Jay and Hailey had been working very hard on their Spanish for the past nine months, they could understand you and could sometimes explain an English word to you in Spanish if needed.

"We didn't really need to test out the drawing thing," Jay answered. "We just needed a picture of Illiana. And, I got the pictures of your parents from the locket."

At this, you started to cry harder, remembering that day when Jay had to cut your necklace off of you in the back of the Med truck in Spain.

You stood up and hugged both Jay and Hailey at the same time. Now, you had both of your families watching over you: your biological family from in heaven and your parents in the here and now. And, your biological family now had no doubt in their mind up there that you would never, ever forget them.

"You remember what she called us that night?" Hailey asked.

"How could I forget? It was the first night she called us mom and dad. I still remember her exact words when I told her we weren't trying to replace her biological family: Son mi familia en el cielo y en mi corazon, pero vosotros sois mi familia aquí."

"They're my family in heaven and in my heart, but you are my family here."

"Exactly."

"Oh my God!" Hailey laughed. "She wrote sixth-grade: I cheated on a literature test and Mom had to come to pick me up and I got in trouble. And then, Dad went full-on dad-mode."

"No fucking way," Jay laughed as he brought the laptop closer to him and looked for the sixth-grade section. "I can't believe this is what she's going to write about!"

"Well, in her defense, it was the first time we had to ground her and the first time you went full-on, overprotective, my daughter can do no wrong dad-mode."

"Pretty sure the next time I'll do that is when she gets asked to the homecoming dance later this year."

"Jay! You will not! You will not scare the boys away from our daughter!"

"Well, they should be scared!" Jay argued. "We're both cops, babe. We can make their death look like an accident."

"Jay, what you're talking about is murder and I shouldn't have to remind you that that is illegal. If so, I am going to the Ivory Tower tomorrow to get you stripped of your sergeant title."

"Fine, fine. The next time I'll do that is when she gets her driver's license."

"Hey, on the bright side, we wouldn't have to pick her up from the principal's office then," Hailey pointed out. "She could just drive herself home."

"We wouldn't have to figure out which of us should go pick her up like last time?"

"Exactly. And I'm pretty sure she was thankful that it was you and not me who picked her up in sixth grade."

"Miss Halstead," your literature teacher said as she stalked over to you from the other side of the classroom. "Care to tell me what you have under your sleeve?"

"My arm?"

"I don't like being disrespected in my classroom. We both know you have your phone in there. And, lying to me will just make this worse."

"I-I needed it," you stammered, not wanting to have the whole class hear how stupid you were.

"For a test? You know the rules: no cheating. Principal's office, now. Grab your stuff. And, I'll be calling your parents as you walk down there."

You grabbed your backpack and started your walk to the principal's office. It's not like you had a choice...well, you did have a choice. You could've just not used your phone on the test. But, after that last grade you got on that essay and how weirdly worded the questions were, you basically had no choice but to use your phone. It's not like you were using it to look up the answers per se, but you were using it to try and understand the questions because there was no way you were going to ask that teacher.

"Mrs. Halstead, right this way," you heard the office secretary say as they led Hailey to the principal's office. Your phone was sitting on the principal's desk, the tab you had been using to cheat open and you were fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. You had thought about deleting your search history, but knew it wouldn't be of any use because Jay and Hailey would just be able to look it up with whatever police software crap that Intelligence had access to. You knew you'd be in more trouble if you deleted it and they found out that you were lying, so you decided you wouldn't delete it...even though you were regretting that decision as your phone screen stared back at you.

"May I ask why my daughter is in the principal's office when I thought she should be taking a test?" Jay and Hailey knew all about your literature test that day as you had read the book twice to be ready for it.

"That's exactly why she's in here, Mrs. Halstead," the principal told Hailey. "She was trying to cheat on her literature test."

"She wouldn't do that!" Hailey defended you. "She studied so hard!" She looked between both you and the principal, but your gaze stayed trained on the floor.

"Just take a look."

He passed Hailey your phone and she looked at the search history and the timestamps of said history. "Y/N, is this true?"

You nodded. Hailey sighed. "I'm assuming she's suspended?"

"Since this is her first academic infraction, I'm not going to suspend her. She does need to go home for the rest of the school day, though."

"Thank you. C'mon Y/N, let's go."

You hung your head as you left the middle school, Hailey holding your phone and still trying to figure out why you did this. But she knew that one thing was for sure: the minute Jay got home, he would not be happy.

***

"You're kidding me, right?" you heard Jay ask Hailey in the kitchen.

You were currently in your room, but the kitchen was right down the hall, so if you were quiet and focused enough, you could hear their conversation.

"I wish I was, Jay," Hailey said. "Just...here, take a look."

You assumed that Hailey was handing Jay the phone and he was looking at your search history.

Jay took a deep breath and restrained himself from shoving the chair into the kitchen table.

You heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hall and quickly locked your door and then sat back down on your bed.

You heard the doorknob jiggle as Jay tried to open your door.

"Y/N! ¡Abras la puerta inmediatamente!" (Open the door immediately!)

You were in deep shit if he was yelling at you in Spanish.

You didn't move from your bed.

"¡Ábrelo ahora!" (Open it now!)

"¡Estoy viniendo! ¡Calmáse!" (I'm coming! Calm yourself!) You got up from the bed and opened the door.

"Do not ever, ever tell me to calm down ever again! Do you understand me?" Jay asked angrily as he flung open your door after he had unlocked it. You nodded. "Now, I understand that you were caught cheating on a test. Care to explain that to me?"

"Not really," you sighed as you sat on your bed.

"I'm giving you one more chance to explain to me why you chose to cheat. And I suggest you tell me the truth, kid."

You looked up to be met with Hailey standing in the doorway. She nodded to you as if to say you better listen to your dad.

"Well?" he asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"I needed to cheat!"

"Nobody needs to cheat!"

"Well, I did!" You dug through your backpack and found the paper you had to write for the class that your teacher failed you on. "Because of this!" You threw the paper on your bed. "And because my teacher is a puta!"

"You do not call your teacher a bitch, young lady!" Jay yelled.

"Jay!" Hailey yelled. "Take the paper, go to our room and read it and calm down!"

"So Mom can tell you to calm down but I can't?"

Jay turned back to you, but Hailey grabbed his arm. "Bedroom Jay. Now." He left the room and Hailey turned to you. "As for you. You're grounded from your phone for the foreseeable future. Sorry, nena. Now, we'll be back to talk to you after we've read whatever it is you threw on your bed."

***

"We read the paper," Jay said as he and Hailey entered your room again fifteen minutes later. "And, I'm sorry for yelling. I know me and your mom are both detectives, but it'd look better if you told us why you cheated instead of leaving us to put the pieces together."

"I'm sorry, I really am. It's just, I failed that paper. And, I worked really hard on it. And, she said it wasn't a real tradition."

The paper topic was to write about a family tradition and you wrote about the Spanish tradition of eating grapes on New Year's Eve. With twelve seconds left of the year, you'd put a grape in your mouth for every second that passed. You'd try to get all twelve grapes in your mouth, but that was really hard. You wrote about the last time you did it with your family and your papí almost got all of them in your mouth while you only got three in your mouth since you were only three years old at the time.

One of the grading criteria for the paper was that it had to be a real tradition.

"She said that it wasn't a real tradition, Dad. She said that because she had never heard of it and that it sounded weird to her, that it wasn't real. So, she failed me. I also put some Spanish words in there, but I put the translations next to it. I thought it would make it more...what's the word? It's kind of like real? Like it'd make it more real to read? You know that word for it?"

"Authentic?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, that. I thought it'd make it more authentic to read. And, I knew the material of the book. But, the questions were so confusing and I didn't want to ask her to clarify because she's mean."

"So you googled the questions to try to figure out what they were asking?" Hailey asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I really am. I just didn't want you to be disappointed in me and think that I've been here for four years and not know English."

"Oh, cariña." Jay crouched in front of you. "We'd never think that. I promise. And I know Mom would never think that either, right?"

"That's right," Hailey agreed.

"Now, I have to go make a phone call."

"You went off on that teacher, Jay! I don't think I've ever heard you that angry when you weren't in interrogation!" Hailey laughed.

"Well yeah! That teacher's logic and grading criteria were seriously flawed. And, you read that paper. It was really good. As Y/N put it that day, she really was a puta."

Hailey rolled her eyes.

"Wish for the future," Jay read aloud. "I wish that I could figure out why Los Rebeldes came to the orphanage and killed Illiana."

"I think that's enough snooping through her stuff for the day, babe," Hailey said, beginning to feel uncomfortable reading this. "Let's just go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna take a quick shower and I'll be back, okay? I love you." He gave Hailey a quick peck on the lips and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower.

"I love you, too."

But, Jay barely heard her. He was so lost in thought about how to get answers for you, for his daughter. Hell, he wanted those answers just as bad as you. What kind of sick bastard would come into an orphanage heavily armed and just kill innocent civilians and innocent children?

***

"Mouse," Jay said as he entered the bullpen the next morning, "I need your help with something."

"Jeez, Jay, you're late," Ruzek commented. "Where's Hailey?"

"It's her RDO. And, I promised Y/N a frappuccino because she had to wake up early for school and had to go to bed late last night because we were working a case."

"Does Hailey--"

"No, Adam. Hailey does not know that I gave our fourteen-year-old daughter sugar-laced coffee this morning. And, if you so much as say the words frappuccino, Jay, and Y/N in the same sentence, I will bump you back down to patrol so fast you won't know what hit you."

Jay started to walk towards the tech area where he assumed Mouse would be. His voice carried, so he hoped he'd heard him when he'd said he needed his help.

"Whose idea was it to give Jay all this power?" Adam asked rhetorically. "I think it's going to his head."

"I heard that Ruz!"

"You needed something, Jay?" Mouse asked as he turned around from his laptop and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, can you do something off the books for me?"

"You don't even have to ask anymore, man."

"Just need to make sure you don't assign a case number to it."

"I can do that. Now, what do you need?"

Jay pulled out his phone and pulled up a Spanish newspaper article from two weeks ago. He laid the phone in front of Mouse. "This. This is why I need you."

Mouse looked at the phone and back up at Jay with raised eyebrows. "I'm gonna need you to translate that. I don't speak Spanish."

"Says that the guy who killed everyone in the orphanage that Y/N was in is meeting with his lawyer about an appeal. That son of a bitch. And, it's happening on Monday."

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday or you'll know if he won the appeal or not on Monday?" Mouse asked.

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday."

"And you need me because...?"

"Think you can hack into Spain's maximum-security federal prison system?"

"You cannot be serious."

"I am dead serious, Mouse."

"Why don't you just wait to hear the news?"

Jay sighed and took a seat next to Mouse. "Y/N has to write a paper and was using my laptop. It was this narrative thing for her senior project, so it's due in a few years. But, I'll spare you the details. Y/N had to write what one of her wishes for the future was and she wrote that she wants to know why the guy killed everyone in the orphanage. Not who, because we already know that it was Raúl Rodríguez. She wants to know why."

"That guy's the one who told them to attack the orphanage? The one that killed her sister, right?"

"That's the prick."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. I'd know that if it was my sister or my kid that I'd want to know."

"Thanks, man."

"Video and audio?"

"Yeah. I'm probably gonna get Emilia in on this too to translate."

"Why? Don't you and Hailey speak Spanish?"

"We do, but they're gonna talk really fast and I probably don't know law lingo except for the word lawyer."

"Fair enough. I'll get to work."

***

"Hails, Hails," Jay shook Hailey awake.

"Jay? Why are you home so late?" she asked as she rolled over and opened her eyes. It was almost 11:30 and she had gone to bed half an hour ago...she thought Jay would've been home by 11:00.

"Paperwork," Jay answered honestly. He instantly regretted his decision of waking Hailey up knowing her history of insomnia. "But, I shouldn't have woke you up. I'm sorry, babe."

"No, I'm awake now. What's up?" She sat up in bed and turned on the lamp to see Jay changing out of his clothes and into his pajama pants and an old t-shirt. "You don't have to sleep with a shirt on you know."

Jay smirked. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? But, don't want our daughter to walk in on me shirtless."

"She's spending the night at Rosa's," Hailey informed him.

"In that case..." Jay trailed off and took off his t-shirt along with his pajama pants so that he was just in his boxers. "Better?"

"Much better."

Jay pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and slid in next to his wife. She cuddled into his side and he wrapped an arm around her.

"What'd you want to tell me?" she asked.

"How do you know I wanted to tell you something?"

"You had that look in your eye, Jay Halstead. Now, tell me."

"So persuasive." He rolled his eyes playfully.

"Shut up."

"You love it, though." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "You know how Y/N's biggest wish was to know why Raúl Rodríguez attacked the orphanage?"

"Mhmm," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm gonna find out why."

She pulled away from him. "What? How? You're going to Spain? To interrogate him? You know the CPD doesn't have jurisdiction there even though you were a ranger there, right?"

"Hails, I'm not going overseas to find him. I promise you that."

"Okay." She settled back into his embrace. "Then what are you doing?"

"Having Mouse see if he can hack into the prison system so that I can watch the lawyer talk to him."

"And you're going to be able to understand everything they're saying?"

"No, but Emilia will."

"You called her and told her your plan before you told me?"

"No! The only person who knows is Mouse. I figured I'd call Emilia tomorrow. Like I said, I was just at the district late doing paperwork."

"Okay, I believe you. And, we're not going to have her in the room with us, Y/N that is? We're going to tell her why he did this so she doesn't have to hear it from him?"

"Precisely. Now, am I right in assuming that since Y/N's gone for the night that we can be as loud as we want?"

"You are very much correct in that." Then, he gave her a kiss...and this time, he didn't phone it in at a peck.

***

You were sitting in the breakroom Monday afternoon trying to do some American history homework. There was so much reading involved, but it was okay because you liked history. And, there were pictures in the textbook...it wasn't like you were reading Romeo and Juliet like you had to do in English class.

You knew Emilia was here because she had brought you some fries, much to your mom and dad's dismay since your mom had packed you a few extra snacks. But, Emilia said she had to hold up her reputation as your cool aunt...even if she wasn't related to you whatsoever. And so far, she was holding it up.

You didn't know why she was here, but you assumed it was because Kim was in the field and they needed someone to translate audio. Sometimes Jay would call in Emilia if he knew that she wasn't working to do some translating so he didn't have to deal with calling up a patrolman. You also knew from hearing some of his conversations with Will that Will wanted to ask her out.

And, you hoped she say yes. You wanted Emilia to be your actual aunt. Apparently, she had a thing for doctors according to Jay's side of the phone conversations you'd heard, so you hoped it'd work out if your uncle Will ever got the balls to ask her out.

All of a sudden, Emilia came into Jay's office and he took off running. Hailey saw this and she started following them.

"What?" you asked yourself.

They always would tell you if they had to leave and they'd always be sure to tell you they loved you before they left.

You quietly walked out of the breakroom and towards where you had seen them running to. You assumed they were in the tech area because of the direction they ran in and the fact that whenever Emilia was here, she was most likely in the tech room.

As you got closer, you started hearing Spanish.

Someone talking about an attack...an attack on an orphanage.

A man said it was in the Tabernas Desert.

You peeked your head around the corner to see that on the screen there was a man in a nice suit and someone sitting at a table with handcuffs on.

"Anything we don't already know?" Hailey asked.

"Not that it sounds like right now," Emilia answered. "They're just talking about the orphanage Y/N and Illiana were in and where it was."

So this is the guy who did it. This was the guy--no, the monster--who led the attack that killed your sister.

"The lawyer just asked Rodríguez why he did it," Emilia said.

"And?" Jay asked

"Jay, I need to be able to hear them talk, so shut up."

Jay held his hands up in a sign of surrender.

"The lawyer just asked if it was something personal, something like Rodríguez being an orphan and he didn't have a good experience there so he attacked it, something that would tug at the board of appeals heartstrings essentially." There was a pause as Emilia continued listening. "He said no." She paused again. "Oh my God."

"What?" Jay asked frantically. "Why did that prick kill innocent children?"

"He said he ordered the attack because the orphanage was receiving aid from the US, for things such as food, clothing, and basic necessities."

"Un-fucking-believable." Jay wanted to punch something, but he restrained himself. "So, because our country was helping those who couldn't help themselves, this prick went after them?"

"That's what it sounds like. I'm sorry, Jay."

"Hails, how are we going to tell Y/N?"

"You guys don't have to tell me," you said as you made your presence known. "I heard the whole thing."

Jay sighed. "I'm sorry cariña, really I am. I'm sorry that this happened to you. That you had to find out this way. That this was the reason for what that monster did. I'm sorry."

"Dad read my outline?" you asked, turning to Hailey.

"Yeah, nena, he did. It was just open and you know him, he couldn't stop himself."

"Because he's a detective before he's a sergeant, just like Nancy Drew," you said, bringing it back to the books you'd used to read with your dad every night when you had just come over to the states from Spain and were working on your English.

"This should never have happened," Jay said softly as he walked over to you and brought you into a tight hug. "People that do these kinds of horrific acts shouldn't have the right to be born, much less to live."

"But if that wouldn't have happened you wouldn't have found me. And I wouldn't have found my forever Mom and Dad."

A/N: I wrote over 6.5k words to get this posted today! That's a new personal record for me! Also, my neuroscience class is kicking my butt right now, so if I don't update as frequently, that's why. Hopefully, I'll get one out every week or every two weeks at the latest. Please like/reblog and comment because I love getting feedback and it keeps me motivated to write. If you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #will halstead #ranger! jay #chicago pd #writer #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead fanfic

102 notes · View notes

capricornwriter5 · 2 years

Text

Is this healthy or toxic? - Chapter 13

Pairing: Changkyun x female OC

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, sad with happy ending. Warning: soft drugs, explicit, violence

Words: 6k

Summary: What began as a casual relationship ended up becoming the most important thing for Changkyun. While fighting for his relationship, the rapper faces his greatest insecurities with the help of the love of his life and other members of Monsta X. Chapters: 16

Chapter 13 - Show her your best version

Just after finishing the last practice before their comeback, Liv waited for the dancers to leave to be alone with the members of her group. "Guys, I am very grateful for all the time that I worked with you, but I'll return to the United States shortly. I looked for my replacement, he's an excellent choreographer and..."

"We're not losing a choreographer, Liv." The leader said. "We've never seen you as our choreographer, from day one you've been like a sister to all of us."

"You've worried because we eat well, for our health, you encourage us when we can't take it anymore. You gave us the courage and strength to continue as a group." Said the youngest of the members.

"We know that you're not well, we even know that you have not eaten well, and that you did this last choreography just for us. Liv, we saw you cry while you practiced by yourself. We don't know exactly what's happening, but we know enough to understand that you're not well. We don't want you to quit, and not because we lose our choreographer, but because you are part of our group." The main dancer said approaching her and seeing that her eyes were full of tears. "Don't leave the group, we'll find a way for you to stay with us."

"Guys, I have to leave Korea and I don't know when I'll come back. I don't even know if I'll come back."

"You can send us the videos with the practices, you could come from time to time to visit us and supervise a little." Said the leader. "We don't need or want another choreographer, much less another member."

"If you want to stop dancing, then you can continue with us as a producer." Said the main dancer and Liv couldn't believe they were being serious.

That night, all the boys showed her how much they needed her in their group, they really saw her as a sister. They ended up convincing her and Liv promised that she would continue dancing for them.

Returning to the United States was one of the hardest things for Olivia to do since, once more, she was forced to start from zero, and this time there was no motivation at all. It took her weeks to put in order her life a bit, find a place to live and a studio to work in. As soon as it was known that Liv had returned, her teachers and former bosses contacted her to lead a new dance group at the same time that she continue working with her group.

The same depression led Liv to not stop for a second. From early on she worked with the different groups she had, and as night fell, the girl saw her old friends or continued working. She tried not to be in her apartment because when she did that, I.M's absence was much more than she could face. She couldn't think of her rapper for more than a few seconds when the emptiness she felt in her chest made her feel even sick. Moreover, she needed to fix her family situation, her lawyer had told her that he would deal with them, but the emotional damage was too much to handle.

Three months had passed and Liv's things were still in boxes, she had not bought decorations, and she didn't cook either. Liv definitely didn't see that apartment as her home, she didn't like it. She didn't want to start over building a home for herself, she felt tired from always running, from losing what she was trying to build, so she didn't see any point in unpacking, after all, she kept thinking that something bad would happen late or sooner and she would have to go again.

*****

For his part, during those first months, I.M begged Kihyun to give him Liv's number or to at least let him write to her, but he never accepted. Kihyun and even Jooheon thought that I.M would get over it and that he would look better, but that wasn't happening. Changkyun had refused to return to live with the others, he was still in the apartment he shared with Liv and every night he waited for her to come. When I.M had activities, all the way home he thought that he would open the door and see his girl there again, but he only found the apartment empty.

One night, he found himself in the kitchen, he was about to eat when he saw something glowing behind the oven. I.M got up thinking he had seen wrong, but when he moved the oven and found the bracelet Liv had been looking for the last day she was there, he cried again with exactly the same pain as the first day they broke up. I.M was simply desperate, he couldn't do anything to talk to Liv, he didn't know where to look for her and he couldn't do it, his manager had already scolded him and even threatened to not let him show up for some time if he continued with the attitude he had.

Changkyun reacted a bit, but not for him, he only did it because he understood that he would affect the other members. Despite Changkyun attended to all their activities as a group, the rest realized that he was not fine, and even though he was pretending in front of the cameras, all the other members looked at each other hoping someone could do something. One night, they talked together to find out how to approach I.M and how to get him to at least live with them again. It was Kihyun who offered to speak with him.

"Hyung, I wasn't expecting you." I.M said wiping his face a little and putting the bracelet in his pants pocket.

"I tried to call you, but you didn't answer me."

"I don't know where my cell phone is, I'm sorry."

"Changkyun, I need us to talk." Kihyun said sitting in front of him.

"Did I make another mistake in the recordings? Was I wrong in the rehearsals? Hyung, sorry, I'm really trying to get it right. Tomorrow I'll get up early to practice more."

"No, it's not about that, you're doing well. However, it's been a long time, almost six months since you've been here alone. What's the matter with you?"

"You didn't want us to talk about this, I tried to explain it to you and..."

"No, I'm not asking you about what happened with Olivia. I'm asking about you, I understand that you miss her, but something else happens, Changkyun, speak, please. It's not just me, we are all worried about you, you're the youngest of the group, our little brother, but now you only see us as co-workers, you didn't even eat with us again."

"Hyung, I failed the person I have loved the most in my life and I have no way to fix things, the days keep passing and I can't change anything. If you knew what happened, you'd probably never forgive me, Olivia is your sister and..."

"And you are my brother, a little and grumpy one, to be honest." Kihyun interrupted. "I have not behaved in the best way, but I'm worried about you and if I am here, it's to help you, it's not about Liv, it's about you. Liv left, but you're still here. Changkyun, there's something that's not letting you continue. What do you not forgive yourself for, eh?"

"I miss her, I feel guilty about what happened and I'm upset, hyung. I'm mad at Olivia! Why did she react like this? No, forget it, this doesn't make sense."

Kihyun listened carefully and sighed, for he understood it too well, more than I.M could imagine, Liv had done the same to him, she had left, she had fled without thinking about the consequences of that.

"In spite of everything, all I want is for her to come back. I was wrong, but I never did it because I want to hurt her, I'd never do something on purpose to hurt Liv, I didn't even dare to tell her that I didn't like her family because I saw her happy, Liv smiled a lot every time she came to see them, how was I going to say something bad?"

"Her family?" Kihyun asked. "Changkyun, Liv has no family, what are you talking about?"

"Her aunts and cousins"

"No... it can't be, they couldn't be that shameless." He said so annoyed that Changkyun could see his hyung's face turning red. "Those bastards looked for her? Did they dare to see her?"

"I don't understand... they raised her before your family."

"No, Changkyun! That never happened! They didn't even offer her a home! Her aunts and uncles wouldn't let Liv stay for more than a couple of days, they stole her entire inheritance, and she didn't even have a room in their house. Her aunts threw her at each other like Liv was a ball they didn't want to catch."

"What...?"

"They dared to try to claim Liv's parents' house, they accepted her into their homes because they wanted hers. When my parents asked them to take care of Liv for a weekend those guys practically left her at my house with all her things. Of course my parents didn't allow her to go back to them and it didn't cost them anything that their aunts let Liv live with us, they never wanted her. How come they looked for her now? Those bastards couldn't have changed, if they looked for her, it was because they wanted something."

"But they showed something different and..."

"Do you think that if it had been true Liv would not have gone with them after breaking up with you?"

"No, no, no..." Changkyun said taking out his cell phone and opening the conversation he had with Liv, he read his girlfriend's messages begging him to come to lunch. "Shit! Something happened that day, Olivia wouldn't have gone like that, she wanted to stay with me, hyung, I know her, I know she wanted us to try things again. Shit! How did I not realize? Do you know where they live?"

"Not me, but my parents surely know."

"You need to tell me." The anger and determination in I.M's gaze made Kihyun though that he was a whole new person.

"And what will happen to you afterward? You'll continue to feel guilty and you'll still be here alone. No, I won't allow it."

"Hyung, I owe it to Liv, please tell me where they live. I need to know what happened! I need to understand why Liv left like this! She wasn't just running away from me, she ran away from them as well."

"Okay, I'll get it, but on one condition. You are going to live with us again."

"Don't ask me that. I'm not leaving the only thing left of my relationship."

"Changkyun, this is not healthy. I'm not going to help you until you let me help you." He said taking him by the shoulders. "Come back with us for at least a few nights, it doesn't have to be the whole week."

"But you have to give me that address."

"Tomorrow you'll have it, now, come with me."

That night I.M returned to the dorm, but the next morning, he left very early to where Liv's family lived and after pretending to be as polite as possible, he heard what they had to say.

"We're very grateful that you come, we have not heard from Olivia for some time and she had promised us that she would take care of some pending matters." One of the aunts said.

"We didn't want her to be mad at us, and since you're her boyfriend, maybe you can make her understand. We just want her to do things right, you know, legally speaking."

"Sure, what you want is what corresponds to you, I understand perfectly. Maybe Liv couldn't do it, but I give you my word that I'll take care of it. You'll get what you deserve. All I need is Liv's attorney number, she's had a lot to do lately and hasn't been able to give me the contact, but I'm assuming you have it."

"Of course! I'm so happy we can finally talk to someone who understands that we are only asking for the right thing!" The woman shared the lawyer's number with no idea what I.M had planned.

"Ma'am, believe me, besides Liv, I am the one who regrets the most that you have not received the treatment you deserve, but please don't worry. You don't have to look for her anymore, I'll take care of it from now on." He said with a terrifying smile and leaving the house.

*****

That afternoon, I.M met with Olivia's lawyer, who assured him that the girl had done absolutely everything as it should be, every aspect of the sale was legal.

"I'd like you to work for me. I want to buy the house that belonged to Olivia; also, I want you to start a lawsuit for child abandonment against those people." The lawyer gaped at him while I.M explained everything that had happened. "Start with that, I'll tell you if we follow it or not. Besides that, investigate what happened and how Olivia's alimony was used, we need proof of what happened to her parents' inheritance. When you have all that information, let me know."

"Sure, I'll start working on that today."

Buying the house was not easy for I.M, he had to meet personally with the current owners several times, he even had to offer more money than the lawyer had thought. But finally, the house was his. The lawyer was pretty quick and got all the documents they needed to prove both the abandonment and the theft of Olivia's inheritance. Once with all the documents in his hands, I.M looked for Kihyun.

"Hyung, you said you wanted to help me, right?"

"Yes"

"Then, come with me to see Liv's aunts." Kihyun listened to what he asked and despite not being sure what would happen, he had promised I.M that he would help him and that he would be by his side, so he nodded and left with him.

As he got into the car, Kihyun saw the lawyer he had hired himself to help Liv with the sale of the house and things were getting more and more confusing for him; however, he didn't ask anything, he would wait for Changkyun to tell him what was going on.

"I hope you don't mind that I come with someone, as I said last time, the only thing I am looking for is for things to be done in the fairest way."

"No, not at all, don't worry. And tell me, did you achieve something?" Asked one of the aunts while the other looked suspiciously at Kihyun, she knew she had seen him before but couldn't recognize him.

"Yes, I took care of the whole house business."

"When will we see what corresponds to us?" Asked the older aunt smiling and Kihyun felt that the anger growing in him; however, what shocked him the most was I.M's smirk.

"Right now, ma'am. Don't worry. From what my attorney studied, it's clear that the sale was made legally. Your names were not on the house papers, Olivia had every right to sell it to whoever she wanted without taking you into account. In fact, the house was sold again, if you have any concerns, you'll have to speak directly to the new owner."

"Of course we will! Who's this new owner?"

"He's sitting in front of you. I bought the house, the property is mine."

"We're going to sue you too! You can't do something like that, it's totally illegal."

"Illegal? Illegal is to abandon a kid and appropriate her inheritance."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you or someone else in your family contacts Olivia again, I'll press charges and arrange to see you in jail. If you want to review the documents, go ahead, my lawyer was in charge of tracking what happened to Liv's money, which she never saw because you took it from her."

"That's totally false! We took care of her for years until the girl didn't want to live here anymore." When Changkyun looked at Kihyun, who was nowhere to speak, the rapper raised his hand for him to wait a bit.

"Are you telling me that you took care of Olivia when she was a child? Because I had understood that she had lived in another house."

"We did take care of her! She used to visit the other house you are saying from time to time, but she never lived with them, she was always here with us." At that moment, I.M saw the oldest cousin shaking his head negatively and looked at his mother with such shame that he ended up leaving the house. "My children shared everything with Olivia, they grew up together. We even went hungry because we had to divide everything! She was always a selfish and ungrateful child and we still accepted her into our family!" Changkyun saw how Kihyun clench his fists so tightly that they began to turn red.

"You are not only a thief, but also a liar." I.M said looking into her eyes.

"How dare you talk to me like that? You're a public figure, do you want me to tell everyone that you are involved in such a scandal? We could do more harm to you than you to us. What will happen to your career when they find out you date an orphan, huh?"

"What happens to me you will see from jail if you don't immediately withdraw the lawsuit that you filed against Olivia. If the documentation and evidence I have are enough to prove what you did, a witness will be. Did these people take care of Olivia?" He asked now looking at his friend.

"And who the hell is he?"

"I lived with Olivia from the moment you and your sister left her at my house. You didn't even let her keep her parents' things, you sold everything. You never gave her a home. Liv wrote and called you over and over again and you were never able to pick up the phone to answer her. A selfish girl?" Kihyun asked laughing indignantly. "She was a girl to whom you left absolutely nothing and still she kept looking for you because you were her family, even now she accepted you."

"What happened the day you had lunch at her house?" I.M asked but the women didn't dare to speak and I.M turned to see his lawyer. "You can proceed."

"Wait! We only asked her for the house money, that was it."

"That wasn't all, Mom." Said the cousin from the door. "Tell them the truth, you played with her, my aunt too. They made her think she was part of the family and ended up asking her for the house, threatened to sue her, and told her that they had only approached her because of the house. They offended her and blamed her for what happened the night of the accident."

"Shut up!" Said the woman at the same time that Kihyun and Changkyun looked at each other. I.M immediately understood everything, why Liv had written to him so many times, why she hadn't wanted to give him another chance, and why she had left like that. Kihyun had no idea how much Liv blamed herself for the accident, but Changkyun did, so only he could understand how much she had been hurt.

"Drop the lawsuit against Olivia and never dare to look for her again." Changkyun spoke with a voice that Kihyun didn't know. "If your attorney doesn't contact mine today proving you dropped the lawsuit, I'll present all the charges."

*****

"Changkyun, you have to go on with the process!" Kihyun demanded on the way home.

"I can't, it's not my place to take that decision."

"What the fuck are you saying? It's the least they deserve!"

" You think I don't want to kill them myself? But if Olivia finds out that I put her family in jail, she won't forgive me, she loves them, despite everything, she loves them. Liv wouldn't dare touch them a single hair."

"Changkyun, they deserve it!"

"Hyung, think about what a lawsuit like that would mean for Olivia, she should testify and speak in front of more people from all the time she was ignored."

"Shit, you're right."

"After today they won't look for her again, at least they will leave her alone and the house will belong to Liv."

During the way home they didn't speak more, it had been a horrible experience to face Olivia's family like that. Moreover, now the two of them knew what had happened and understood more why the girl had left. Kihyun not only thought about what Liv had felt, but that the fault had not really been only I.M's and now that he had seen with his own eyes how he had defended her, he couldn't stop thinking that his friend really loved her.

"I don't know what happened between you and Liv, I don't know why you argued, but don't blame yourself for the break up, there were many things between you two."

"I also made a mistake, a huge one, and at the worst moment."

"You cannot punish yourself for a lifetime for a mistake. What you did today was amazing, consider it an apology to Liv. You already did what you could do, you have to move on." Kihyun patted the maknae on the shoulders and left him to have his space. I.M's face showed that he needed to be alone.

*****

Later, while Monsta X was on tour, Liv was leaving her studio when she found the last person she expected to meet: her older cousin. Her first reaction was to leave and prevent him from recognizing her, but she couldn't and after he practically begged her to let him speak, Liv accepted.

"I'm very sorry for what my mom and my aunt did to you, I never agreed with that. That's why I no longer live in Korea, I don't want to have anything to do with them, they have done things that I am extremely ashamed of, Olivia, like the way they treated you when you were just a child. I understand perfectly that it's impossible for you to trust what I tell you, you must think that I am like my mother, but it's not like that. I've been looking for you for a long time, I knew you lived in this city and there's something I want to give you, mom doesn't know that I took it. Is it possible that you allow me to see you again? At least to give it to you." She really wanted to say no, after all, she had no reason to listen to him. "It belongs to your parents and you deserve to have it."

"My parents?"

"Yes, it was the last thing my uncle did, that's why my mom kept it so much."

Ultimately, Liv agreed that they meet again just to get what he had to give her. The girl decided to open the package when she was alone in her apartment. The only time she had been in contact with something from her parents had been when she entered the house and to do so, I.M had been with her and had held her hand every second. But he wasn't there anymore, and Liv couldn't deny that the absence of her ex-boyfriend was something that hurt her more than she could express. So far, she had done everything possible to block out the memories she had with Changkyun, but there were too many and many times she even dreamed of him and got up fully determined to call him.

She was looking at the package for a long time in which she considered calling I.M and at least listening to his voice so she could continue, but she understood that she was alone and had to do it on her own. Her hands didn't stop shaking as she opened a package in which she found nine drawings. Her father had drawn her at different moments in her life since she was born, and in each one of them he had managed to paint her smile perfectly; in fact, it was the aspect that stood out the most. Liv smiled when she saw that his dad drew the wrinkles on her nose when she laughed, something that I.M loved to see. Liv knew that since the death of her parents she had never laughed like this again until she had been with I.M. Her face on the drawings and the one she could see from the mirror were totally different. Now there was no trace of a smile, her eyes didn't have the same brightness, they were duller than ever. Liv was never more aware than in that moment when she had become a person her parents would not recognize, not even Changkyun himself. Those past months had completely consumed her, she'd lost too much weight, and gone back to taking pills to get at least a little motivation to get out of bed. Liv had reached her body to the limit, so after dancing all day, she would come to the apartment to sleep and when she managed to have a little energy, she never dared to be alone, she would go out with her friends in order to not face that she was more alone than ever before.

She remembered what Changkyun had told her about letting herself feel pain and sadness. That night Liv cried looking at the drawings, but the next morning, she decided that she couldn't continue like that, she needed help, she had to get out of that depression immediately and begin to heal little by little.

As she worked on herself, Liv started looking more for Kihyun and his parents, she had realized that she had pushed them aside for a long time and she wanted to get that back. The time she was in Korea she had gotten close to Kihyun again and it was not fair to cut communication with him again, so Liv took it upon herself to speak with him at least three times a week. She even told Kihyun that she was going to therapy and the singer was finally able to breathe easier.

*****

By the time the Monsta X tour ended, Changkyun had returned to his apartment for a few days. The tour with the group had gone quite well, the concerts were a success but the dynamics of the group were not the best because once he got off the stage, his maknae practically lost his smile. The topic of Olivia had become taboo for the group, not even Jooheon himself dared to mention it and it was time for the oldest to try to do something.

Shownu and Wonho arranged to meet I.M. The night was relatively normal until the moment when Wonho told them that he would start promoting his new album outside of Korea and the first country would be the United States, starting next week. Changkyun had been looking at the drink options to order one more when he heard that. Neither Shownu nor Wonho had ever seen him react like that before, his face of despair and how he approached Wonho left them open-mouthed.

"I go with you! Don't leave without me, just wait for me to take care of some things and..."

"Changkyun, you can't go." Shownu tried to say in the best way, but he didn't hear him.

"Hyung, tomorrow I'll take care of everything and so..."

"Changkyun!" Shownu called a little louder because he didn't want to hear it. "How are you going to leave everything thrown away? Are you going to go to the United States? We have presentations, you have important meetings, behave yourself!"

"You don't understand, I have to go and..."

"You are the one who's not understanding that your relationship is over!" Wonho said taking him by the shoulders before Shownu said something worse. "What are you supposed to do appearing like that?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, I'm going to go, I'm going to talk to Olivia and..."

"Sit down." Shownu ordered when he saw that the maknae was about to leave. "This has gone too far, you'll listen to us, whether you want to or not. Now, sit down." He repeated looking at him seriously, just like Wonho, who was willing to make the youngest think clearly. Kihyun hadn't had any luck, neither had Jooheon, Hyungwon and Minhyuk tried, but they hadn't achieved absolutely anything either. "Changkyun, it's normal that you miss her, you loved her a lot, you lived with her, but you can't live obsessed with this. Olivia left, she wanted her space and you have to respect it. If she left, it was because she wanted to be alone."

"You don't know her, hyung."

"It's common sense! The girl needed time alone, you can't be that selfish! You are acting like an immature child. Please behave like an adult. You don't talk to anyone, whenever you can, you run away, you don't spend time with your friends, and you don't even deal with things the way you should." Shownu said. "No one can mention her name because you react terribly, you have not let it out and thus you will not be able to continue. You need to open up a little more, at least with us."

"We have been by your side for many years, we practically finished raising you, you can tell us anything, we are not going to judge you. Why are you so desperate to go? This is not just because you want to apologize." Wonho said.

"Because it's not fair that she left like that! It was a long time we were together, a lot of things..."

"You don't just miss her, you're upset with her." Wonho said but when he saw I.M's face and that he was nowhere to say no, he was ahead of him. "It's totally normal and valid that you feel this way. It's okay. But if you're upset with her, you can't pretend to get on a plane, complain to her, and then tell her to come back to you because that's what you want. You are acting out of resentment."

"I couldn't feel that for Liv."

"It's totally normal for you to feel it. Stop blaming yourself for that too. First, accept how you feel, are you upset?" Changkyun was quiet for a while until he finished by nodding. "Did she force you at some point to do something you didn't want to do? Imposed a relationship on you?"

"No, she always considered first what I wanted."

"As far as we know, and from what we saw you loved her enough to now be able to do the same, think that at this moment she needs to be alone. Maybe at some point, you'll get a chance to talk to Liv again and clear things up. How can you pretend to fix a relationship when you haven't worked on yourself first? Work on your insecurities, focus on your music, accept the fact that you are upset, that doesn't mean that you'll love her less or miss her less, it means that you'll be ready to see her again at some moment. Or that you'll be capable of trying to have something with someone else."

"We already went through this, maybe not the same, but we both had to let go of relationships that we cared about. Don't be so stubborn and listen to us now." Shownu said speaking for the first time about a relationship. "Do you want to become what we are now? We're totally incapable of having a normal relationship because we have screwed up too many things and behave like children. Don't do the same, learn from our mistakes, work on yourself, and when it's time to start over with someone, you'll be ready."

"I don't want to start over with anyone, I want to get back what I had with Liv."

"Then become the person she deserves, don't look for her at this moment when you don't even accept yourself." Wonho answered.

"So... shouldn't I look for her now?" I.M asked with his gaze on the ground. Neither Wonho nor Shownu could help but feel bad for him, after all, he was the youngest of the group and since they knew him, things had not been easy for I.M. Besides, they had never seen him happier than during the time he was with Liv.

"You'll find a way to show her that you still love her, but going to look for her and disrespecting what she asked you is not the way."

"You'll be fine." Shownu said approaching to hug him. "You already managed to make the girl of your dreams fall in love with you, you're going to do it again even if some time has passed."

"When that moment comes, you have to be sure of yourself, if you know that you can finally show your best version, you'll be able to recover what you had."

*****

Before the first year passed, Olivia had only returned to Korea once and it had been for Kihyun's mother's birthday. On that trip, she apologized for running away again and never behaving like a true daughter to them. Liv also took the opportunity to talk to Kihyun about many things that she never mentioned to him. The girl was trying harder than ever before to have a family with the people who did care about her.

Now, Liv was at a New Year's celebration with several friends, including dancers, producers, and singers. The girl had met an old friend who was now one of the best-known producers not only in the United States but also worldwide. After talking for a long time, the producer told Liv that he had tried to get new artists but none had convinced him, he told her that he wanted to work with a different type of music and even proposed to be part, but the girl refused.

"I know someone much better, I'm sure you'll love what he does."

"You recommending someone?" Asked the man laughing. "Tell me more."

"He lives in Korea, his music is different, but it's one of the best things I've heard. I have seen what he is capable of. He's currently in a group, you must know it, Monsta X."

"Sure, I know the group. Who are you talking about?"

"I.M"

"Wow, I didn't expect that."

"He's really good, he hasn't released anything as a soloist, but with you supporting him, I don't doubt that he will."

"Hmm, I don't know, Liv, will you make me travel to Korea? What if it's not that good? I'm already tired of dealing with lame artists and..."

"I assure you that the trip will be worth it. I have something we worked on together while I was there. I can show you that."

The next day, Liv and the producer saw each other. The dancer didn't stop talking about how incredible musician Changkyun was. Finally, they listened to the song together and the girl smiled proudly when she saw her friend's look, he was more than pleased.

"I'll contact his manager right now."

"I just ... I just need to ask you something. Don't mention that I gave you his contact, say that you heard his song from another person, don't mention me."

"Any bad blood with this guy?"

"On the contrary." Liv sighed. "The man you'll work with is the love of my life, but things didn't work out. I don't want him to lose this opportunity just by knowing that I had something to do with it. Please don't mention me, okay?"

"Okay, I won't tell him anything. Hopefully, he'll be interested in releasing his solo album soon."

"Can you save me one? I am sure they'll sell very quickly." Liv said with a bitter smile for not being able to be next to him with his debut.

"You must have loved this guy, nobody would do this for an ex."

"He's not just my ex, and he deserves this more than any other person."

To be continued… 🐱

✮ Chapter 12

✮ Chapter 14

#monsta x #monbebe #lim changkyun #i.m changkyun #changkyun #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fanfic #i.m monsta x #changkyun fanfic #i.m mx #joohoney #kihyun monsta x

15 notes · View notes

mystic-poet · 3 years

Text

ROGUE PATHS

I wake up to find myself handcuffed to the hospital bed. The drug they injected me with to tame me seems to be wearing off. Ugh! This again. Better to get it over with, I guess. I drag my free hand into my bun and retrieve a small blade. As usual the dumb police never bothered to check in there thinking a man’s bun would just be a fashion statement. I twist to my side and turn the blade in the keyhole clockwise. My hand comes free. I learnt to pick locks when I was young, one of my many talents. I shake my hand hard to get rid of the stiffness and get up from the bed.

I stride confidently straight towards the door, not in the sneaky kind like a criminal would. As expected, a police officer stands at guard. His lips are on the verge of screaming when I silence him by waving a hundred bucks in front of his eyes. He raises his eyebrows at me and I throw in another four hundred to satisfy his thirst. That ought to shut him up. Money! The most deadly weapon and beautiful thing anyone can ever have.

□□□

Outside the hospital waits Beth. She teaches German in Crawford High. Well, it would be safe to say she taught me the art of viciousness. If angels can house demons, there isn’t any harm in a teacher being an evil mastermind.

“They shot you pretty bad in that leg, huh?” she says as I limp on one good leg. She gives me a look that was overflowing with pity. How I hate that!

“Enough with the puppy eyes already!” I snap. My right leg was hurting real bad and I would have stayed in the hospital until they mended it and made my grand escape later but I won’t want to deprive the world of its foul folks. Besides, I have business to finish.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be in the hospital,” Beth says unlocking her car and we sit in.

“They shot my leg in the encounter at the bank and I was losing blood by the second. Couldn’t get much out of me while I was thrashing in pain,” I explain.

“Did you find anything at the bank?” Beth asks raising an eyebrow at me as she drives the car out of the parking lot.

“I was close to. The property papers were in my hands before the cops caught up with me. Couldn’t read a word.”

“So, what are going to do? Got anything up your sleeves?”

“Well, I do. I am going to father’s house this Wednesday,” I say coolly.

“You do know that’s two days away, don’t you?”

“I have thought it through. You’ll see,” I say grinning.

Beth shakes her head. “Just remember I need my share of the money, Carl.”

“We talked about this a million times, Beth. You’ll get your forty percent,” I say casually leaning into the passenger’s seat.

□□□

My dad abandoned me when I was a teen. He is the owner of a multinational electronic company my late grandpa founded. Beth was the assistant manager. She was a frequent visitor in thehouse and shared a fine bond with dad until one day, she was fired when my dad accused her of a theft she never committed or so she told me.

When I was old enough, I tracked her down and discovered that she craved revenge with dad for all the wrongs done to her. She wanted to blow the lid off and reveal all the dark secrets behind dad’s firm. In a way, our common want of vengeance united us.

My dad is stinking rich whereas I was left in some community home and survived off donations. This is why I despise pity; I have lived with it all my life. I have my rightful place in the company and the fortune my grandpa left behind. But I need theofficial documents and my one chance of getting them from the bank slipped away. That’s where the part of infiltrating his house comes in. Ah! It’s been such long while since I did something of this kind. Infiltrating seems such a gorgeous word now.

□□□

“So, how are we doing it?” asks Beth pouring two glasses of red wine for the both of us. She drove us to her house for it’s probably the safest place to be.

“He is hosting some success party on Wednesday and there’s bound to be security. My idea is to go through as delivery persons. The rest will follow. You will tip toe to the computer room while I put up some distraction. I will catch up with you soon enough. Till then, find the papers,” I instruct taking a swig from my glass.

“It won’t be that simple, you know,” she says with a smirk.

“I was thinking you need that forty percent,” I say with mock seriousness.

“Fine!” she says exasperated. How I love when I am obeyed.

□□□

We are wheeling the cart that supposedly holds the cake but instead I just stuffed it with a wad of cotton. I ring the bell of the grand house with Beth beside me. The housekeeper, a woman in maybe in her thirties, opens the door. She gestures to where the cake should be kept. I look around at the magnificence of the place and its each and every adornment and decoration, from the mahogany coffee table to the velvet curtains and even the intricate designs on the glass vases, conveyed royalty. I feel a rush of hatred inside me. My father enjoyed all the money at his disposal and lived in comfort with rugs beneath his feet whereas I tossed and turned with unease in my bed every night wondering if my parents would ever make their way back to me. At least my mother passed away before she witnessed the return of her abandoned son.

“You know what to do,” I whisper in Beth’s ear. She nodded. I take my blade out and make a shallow cut in the back of my hand oozing out blood. That blade is indeed a good partner. I pocket it as swiftly as I took it out.

“Oh, I am bleeding. I am bleeding,” I say dramatically and hold my hand out purposefully for everyone to see the scarlet covering it.

“Oh dear, God. I will fetch you some ice from the kitchens,” the housekeeper says and disappears into a corridor. That’s the thing about kind people; they are easy prey.

I signal to Beth and she sets off in a half-walk and half-run up the stairs. She knows the way to the computer room from all those years of coming to dinners and teas in the house. As she turns into the corner, I rush behind her too wiping the blood on my pants.

I catch up with her soon enough as she looks straight ahead navigating through the rich corridor filled with a few guests. I walk behind her maintaining a safe distance; we can’t afford to attract any attention.

We walk into a long deserted hallway. I am sure the computer room is here and so does Beth, I suppose, as she carefully notices each door. She comes to an abrupt stop in front of the door at the far end of the hallway and opens it without a glance at me. In the middle of the room sits a computer that would be the cause of my dad’s doom. Beth turns it on and gets to work as I stand at the door occasionally peaking in. I was afraid it might have a password but it didn’t. Arrogance! Father must be sure no one could evade his computer. Well, I guess history is being made today.

“Do it quick!” I hiss at her.

“Does it look like I am not trying?” she says making an irritated face at me.

We are silent for five minutes or so when Beth says, “Carl, I found them!”

A smirk creeps across my face. “Transfer it to me. All of it,” I say in an excited whisper.

Beth turns back to the computer and presses send. The next few moments go by as quickly as the blink of an eye. I lock Beth in the computer room and somewhere a safety alarm triggers deafening my ears. I hear her muffled screams calling out to meechoing in the hallway but without looking back I descend the two flights of stairs.

I bump into the security on a landing and adopting my best worried voice I say, “A woman in the computer room. Upstairs.” The words barely escape my mouth and they run upstairs to find the trespasser while I walk out of the mansion with satisfaction.

Indeed, Beth taught me too much than she should have. Call me selfish but that’s what the world made me. I couldn’t have let Beth have forty per cent. After all, what would she do with it in jail? As for my father this episode would definitely motivate him to set a computer password. I whistle walking on the road thinking of the colour my bungalow would be.

Tagging:

@ruins-of-heart @witchpossessinghozier @some-broken-words @sinless-mind @luck1998 @ze-thoughts-are-stupid @random-lit @saamiya @colinisalright @thunder19sstuff @yalocal-deadpoet @asthetically-bookish @literature-is-my-religion @mrun-v @songfromstars @donapreachesart @i-snort-chocolates @duskobserver @apprielle24 @halfagonyhalfhop3 @klainebrittana @ray-of-darkness7 @balladofableedingpoet2112 @morticiapretz @vantaerayleigh1997 @sillylilbakaaa @church-of-burnt-romances @burn-like-starss @mjsespaces-blog @theleechwhodrinksbleach

Thank you so much for giving this a read dears!

Comments, criticism and suggestions are always welcome <3!!!

#story writing #spilled writing #writers and writing #poets and writers #writers on tumblr #writers and readers #writers community #writers and poets #story

61 notes · View notes

emilysshortstories · 3 years

Text

Steven Meeks Part 2

Still haven’t thought of a title but I’m liking this story so lets just roll with it. Also if someone could teach me how to put in a continue reading thing I would love you.

Words: 1607

Warnings: a bit of a love triangle? clique plot points?

My alarm clock blaring through my ears abruptly woke me up. 6:oo AM it read for I had to get ready early and stop by all my teachers' classrooms before classes actually started. They had to give me my course work for the week and I had to complete daily assignments and turn them in at the end of the day. I had the same deadlines as anyone else, just got my course work early. My old highschool was a similar format so I was used to this, just not used to waking up so goddamn early. At least this is only on Monday’s. I had United States History, Earth Science, Trigonometry, and Latin to get to before 8 o’clock. My uncle said he will explain everything to me in his classroom at 2, so I didn’t have to worry about english at least.

Now I see why everyone that gets through this school is a fucking genuious. I have not one but two history textbooks, I have to read a chapter a day in one of them and the other I have to read and complete all the questions for a chapter every other day. I have to do a chapter, with questions, everyday in Earth science. For Trig I read a chapter Monday and Wednesday, complete a sheet of 25 questions Tuesday and Thursday, and then have a test every Friday. I was given 30 words to memorize by Friday for Latin. Yes, I’ll have a test in latin every Friday as well. At least I know my uncle isn’t a sadist and won’t give me or his students an excessive amount of work.

I carried all four of my textbooks and school work outside with a large towel. I figured if I don’t have to be stuck in a classroom and can complete my course work on my own time, might as well make the most of it and do it in the sun away from everyone. I have 4 hours before I have to be at my uncle's classroom, so let's see how much of this crap I can get done.

I was done with history and just started the questions for Earth Science when I heard the school bell, signaling the 15 minute passing period. Not thinking anything of it I continued my work, that is until the sun was suddenly hidden from me. “Hey Charlie, what’s going on?” I asked, looking around to see 6 other boys behind him, including ‘Steven the red head’. My smile grew as we made eye contact. “I was about to ask the same thing, what you working on?” Charlie asked me, crouching down to sit next to me with the rest of his pose following suit. “Earth science, I got all my coursework for the week this morning so I’m just going through what’s due at the end of the day”. “Sounds boring to me, but if you ever need help, meeks is the genius of this school”. Charlie said as he pointed to Steven. “I thought your name was Steven?” I asked, turning to face him.

“What?” he said, sounding surprised at something.

“I thought your name was Steven, at least that’s what your father called you when we first met”

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do, so why Meeks?”

“It’s his last name” - “It’s my last name” both Charlie and Meeks said at the same time, which made me laugh a bit.

“What do you personally prefer though?” I asked.

“Meeks.” He said very abruptly compared to his previous tone.

“Okay, Meeks it is then, although I don’t make any promises to not call you Stevie when I’m teasing you.” I say trying to lighten the mood, everyone was just too quiet. “So you going to introduce me to the rest of your boy band Charlie?”

“Sure. This is Knox Overstreet, Todd Anderson, Neil Perry, Gerald Pitts, and Richard Cameron.” This made me burst out in laughter, “Your name is Dick Cam??” I asked, this being the funniest thing I’ve heard all week, but the question made everyone start to giggle as well. Everyone but Cameron of course, who just turned as red as his hair and walked away. “Oh I’m just teasing!” I yelled as he walked, “Sorry!!” I yelled louder, hoping he heard me. “I didn’t mean to offend, I'm sorry” I say to Charlie, actually feeling quite bad. “No! That was the best thing I’ve heard in my life, how did we not notice that?” Charlie asked the boys, but no one replied, they just kept laughing. Everyone but Meeks, who was looking down at the ground and playing with a corner of my towel.

“Is my towel more interesting than my joke there Stevie?” I ask and shuffle a little closer to him while the other boys separate into their own conversation. Good.

“N-no, I was laughing I promise-”

“I’m just messing with you- Stevie”

“Right” said with a sigh and a long pause. “Charlie was right though, you can always ask for help if you need it, even if I can’t help you I’ll point you to someone who can.” he said so fast I barely understood.

“Thank you , I really appreciate that.” I smiled at him, hoping that would calm his nerves. “You guys don’t really see a lot of girls going to a school like this do you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well I come in peace I promise. Even if my jokes can seem a bit pointed at times.”

We both looked up at each other and held eye contact, much like the moment we first met. Yet this time it was deeper, like we understood what we were trying to say to another without having to come out and say it. I hoped he could see how much I liked him and would do something about it, but our moment was rudely interrupted by the school bell.

“Alright, time to go back to prison.” Charlie said, standing up, the boys following suit once again. Every boy but Meeks. “I-I-I’ll see you around Y/N” he said. “What time do you have English?” I asked a little too suddenly. “We all have it at 2” Charlie answered for him, ‘goddamnit let him answer his own questions man.’ “Great, my uncle told me to stop by his classroom at that time, so I’ll see you then” I said with a smile, only looking at Meeks, hoping to not only make eye contact again but also get Charlie to get the hint. “Bye” Meeks said to me. “Bye”.

It’s hard to focus on Earth Science after that, but I tried my best and actually finished all my questions and my trig chapter by the time 1:45 rolled around. Getting up, gathering up all my stuff, and heading to his class. I had my paperwork in my hands underneath the textbooks, with the towel draped on top, slightly obstructing my vision. “Fuck” I said as I reached the english building doors. Going outside was easy when all I had to do to open the doors was lean against them, but now that I was faced with a handle bar I had to pull. This was proving to be a lot more difficult than I had initially anticipated. Trying to balance everything into my left arm, I reached out my fingers to grasp the door, too scared to move my whole arm, and moving my towel into my chest with my chin so I can see what I’m doing. Even that didn’t work unfortunately as my towel fell to the ground. Closing my eyes and heaving a deep sigh, only to open them and see Meeks picking up my towel. “Thank you” I said thinking he was going to put the towel back on the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but started to blush when he draped it over his own shoulders and opened the door for me. I walked through the door- “Here” Meeks said from my left before taking two of my three textbooks out of my hands. “Thank you, that’s really sweet of you” I said, impressed with how kind he was. “No problem, I can help you take these to your room before two is you need?” he asked, now being able to look me in my face without books in the way. “Thanks, yeah it's just right in here through Mike’s office.” I said, leading the way, hearing Meeks chuckle behind me. “What?” I asked, turning around. “Nothing, just I’ve never heard anyone call Mr. Keating ‘Mike’ before”. “Oh, sorry about that, to me he will always be uncle Mike”. “That’s okay, I liked it”.

We walked in silence to my room where Meeks set my books down on my desk. “We should get to class, I have no idea what my uncle has planned” I said. “Okay”. ‘Not a man of many words, endearing.’

“All of you know my niece, Y/N. Mr. Nolan said that she wouldn’t be attending any classes but seeming that I plan to listen to opinions and presentations, so giving her a bunch of paperwork really wouldn’t be the best idea. So she will be joining this class, any questions? No, okay good now let's go.” My uncle preached before just waltzing out of the classroom. I knew he wanted me to follow him but the others who didn’t know how my uncle can be just seemed confused. So I said “That means he wants us to follow him” and I walked out of the classroom on the same path as my, sometimes strange, uncle Mike.

#DPS #DPS fandom #dps fanfiction #steven meeks #steven meeks x reader #knox overstreet #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #Richard Cameron #dick cam #Neil Perry #todd anderson #gerald pitts #mr keating

55 notes · View notes

heylookafanfic · 4 years

Photo

Title: What Could Go Wrong?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!Reader,

brief summary: With your dad, Aaron Hotchner, being the BAU unit chief, he did whatever he could to protect you. When you get invited to a party for the first time, sneaking out doesn’t sound so bad. What could go wrong?

word count: 3,706 words

requested: Nope, original! (send in those requests!)

warnings: cursing, getting roofied, getting yelled at, predatory men

Your dad, Aaron Hotchner, was extremely protective over you not only because his job can put you and your brother, Jack, in danger but he already lost a family member and refused to lose another. Having an overprotective father meant you had a list of rules.

The door was to remain completely open when your significant other came over and no sitting/laying on the bed

No leaving the house after sundown

You can’t sleep over at anyone's house, they had to sleep over at your house

You have to ask to go somewhere

If your dad wasn’t home and the doorbell rang, you couldn’t answer it

And that is just the surface. You understood why your dad was so strict but you never got to have a life. To make things worse, your friends always post pictures from parties on Instagram and all you could do is sigh and keep scrolling knowing you’ll never get to go to one.

One day, you were in communications class listening to the professor lecturing about the upcoming semester project. Luckily, you got to pick your group for it and when they dismissed the class to find partners, you quickly turned to your best friend,Vanessa.

“I guess we’re partners, huh?” you chuckled

“Of course!” she said

“So, what do you want to make our project about?”

“I have no idea. I barely paid attention this chapter”

“Try to think out of the box a bit. What’s gonna make ours stand out?”

“Since the class is about communications, how about human interaction?”

“What about it?”

“Like how you haven't had any human interaction lately” she said with a smirk

“You know my dads strict. I can’t even breathe without him being on edge” you said

“You need to live a little Y/N. You’re in college and you’re still being treated like a kid.”

“I know, I know but I don’t know how to convince him to let up a bit”

“Here’s the thing, I’m going to a friend's kickback tomorrow night. This is your chance to finally hang out with someone who isn’t me, Jack or your dad ”

“He’s gonna say no regardless even if I tell him that you’re going with me.” you said

“I’m not saying to sneak out but...” she said with a shrug

“You know he has cameras around the entire perimeter of the house, right?”

“Just say you’re sleeping over at my house”

“Can’t do that either, remember? All sleepovers have to happen at my house”

“I understand having to be cautious because your dads in the FBI but doesn’t he realize that you’re in college?”

You thought about it for a second.

“That’s it! How about you sleep over but I’ll say that you forgot your meds. That’ll give us an excuse to leave”

“Won’t he be suspicious though?”

“Probably not. He trusts you out of all of my friends”

“You’ve got a point. What time am I coming over?”

“What time does the kickback start?”

“9 pm”

“Come over at 7. We’ll be finishing up dinner and it’ll give us time to get ready”

“Awesome”

The both of you packed your backpacks and went home. This would be the first time you’d be sneaking out and you were pretty nervous because so many things could go wrong but you’re with your best friend so, what could possibly go wrong?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Hotchner Household- The next day*

You were in your room finishing up your psychology homework when your dad called you and Jack down for dinner

“Y/N and Jack, come down for dinner” he yelled from the kitchen

“I’m almost done! Give me two more minutes!” you shouted

“Come down now before it gets cold”

You sighed and closed your laptop. As you were walking out of your room, you saw Jack coming down the hall.

“I’ll race you to the dinner table. Loser has to wash dishes tonight” you challenged

“You’re gonna lose like you did last time” he said

“That’s only because you pushed me, short stuff” you chuckled

“I won fair and square though, didn’t I?”

“Anyway…ready, set, go!”

The both of you raced down the hallway and downstairs. Your dad heard all the stomping and already knew what was up. You lightly pushed Jack and he tumbled towards the couch by the living room. Your dad had his hands out by his sides, waiting to see who would finish 1st. You ran and tagged in, winning.

“You pushed me!” Jack complained

“I won fair and square though, didn’t I?” you chuckled

“Dad, Y/N cheated and they said that I’d have to wash dishes after dinner”

“Karmas a bit-” you were cut off

“Enough you two. Go wash your hands and make your plate” your dad said

*During dinner*

“So, how was everybody’s day?” he asked

“I found out that we’re dissecting a frog in class next week” Jack said

“They still do that?” he asked

“Yeah, everyone in my class thinks it’s cool but I’m not looking forward to it”

“Why is that?”

“Because, it’s gross. I asked if I could do an extra credit project instead but my teacher said no”

“Sorry bud. How about you Y/N? How was your day?”

“It was okay. We were assigned a group project yesterday so Vanessas coming over later to study. Is that cool?”

“Which Vanessa?”

“Dad. You’re kidding, right? The same Vanessa I’ve been best friends with since kindergarten?”

“Oh, her. Yeah, she can come over. What’s your project about?”

“It’s a research slideshow about human interaction”

“If you have time, you should drop by the office and ask your aunts and uncles for help. Especially your uncle Spencer. He’ll tell you everything you need to know; easy A” he said

Suddenly, his phone chimed.

“Work?” you and Jack ask

Your dad shook his head and took one last sip of his drink before getting up from the table. He was running around the house grabbing his go bag and work essentials.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back but if I’m not back later tonight, Y/N you know the drill” he said

“Close and lock all doors and windows, don’t answer the door, Jack is to be in bed by 9:30 and lights out at 11” you recited

“And Jack?”

“No video games or TV until homework is done and Y/N is in charge” he groaned

“Good. Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Vanessa is the only one permitted in the house. Understood?”

“Yes sir”

“Alright, bye! I love you two!” he said

Your dad rushed out the door, hopped in the car and sped off to work. Your dad pretty much being on call can be annoying sometimes because he’s usually away for a few days and misses out on family time. Usually, it’s a bummer but tonight, it was working in your favor.

“Now what?” Jack asked

“How about we finish up dinner and I’ll help you with your homework so you can have the rest of the night to yourself?”

“Sweet!” he responded

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Later that night*

Vanessa had already been at your house for 2 hours and while Jack was getting ready for bed, you were about to leave for the kickback.

“What time did you say your little brother goes to bed?” Vanessa asked

“9:30”

She sighed

“We’re going to be late by then. Can’t we leave earlier?”

“We can’t. If I’m not here to make sure he’s asleep, he’ll be up all night”

“Jacks like what, 10? He’ll be fine. Plus, it’s a Friday night. It’s not like he has school tomorrow.”

You gave it a second thought. Jack is old enough to put himself to bed and the party wasn’t going to be worth going to if you were late.

“Fine. Give me a second and then we can go” you said

You walked down the hall to Jack’s room and knocked.

“Come in” he answered

“Hey bud, are you almost ready for bed?” you asked

“Yeah, I gotta brush my teeth though.”

“Listen, Vanessa and I are going out for a bit tonight. Would you be okay if you were by yourself for a few hours?”

“You can’t leave! Remember what Dad said? ‘No leaving the house after sundown’ ?”

“I know, I know but it’s only for tonight and since Dad’s out at work, I’ll let you stay up and play video games until I get back”

“Won’t we get in trouble? If he finds out, we’re gonna be grounded”

“He won’t find out unless we tell him….which we won’t. Right?”

Jack thought the situation through for a second.

“Right” he said

“Cool. Vanessa and I are leaving in about 5 minutes. Rules still apply to you though. I don’t care who rings the doorbell. If it’s not me or Dad, don’t answer it. Understood?”

“Yeah”

“Alright, all the doors and windows are locked so you’re safe here as long as they stay closed. I’ll be back in a few hours. Love you!” you said

“Love you too!” Jack responded

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*At the kickback*

This was your first time sneaking out of the house and honestly, you didn’t think your plan would work. You thought that by now you’d be at home getting an earful from your dad because you got caught but, what perfect timing?! Your dad getting called into work the same night?! It’s actually kind of funny how things work out. What could go wrong?

You and Vanessa pulled up to the party and parked in the driveway

“You ready Y/N?” she asked

“Yeah. I just can't believe our plan actually worked”

“I know right? You’re old man needs to let you live a little. You deserve to enjoy your youth. Now c’mon”

As you two walk in, loud music blares from the speaker and there’s people everywhere. Beer cans on the floor and furniture, red solo cups spewed about the floor, the smell of weed in the air and you can tell every guy is wearing cheap cologne because of how musky it is. You thought parties like this only existed in movies.

You knew a few people but due to not being the biggest social butterfly, you decided to cling to Vanessa all night.

“Y/N, this is my old theatre buddy, Vaughn. Vaughn, this is my best friend Y/N!”

“Hey, nice to meet you!” he welcomed

“Nice to meet you too!”

“Vanessas told me all about you”

“She has?”

“Yeah! Best friends since kindergarten?! You two go way back”

“Definitely!”

“This is actually Y/N’s first kickback!” Vanessa chimed in

“Your first? You’ve never been to a party?”

“Not really, my dad’s very overprotective so I never get the chance to really hang out”

“What changed his mind?”

“Actually, he’s out of town at the moment so, he doesn’t even know”

“Ahhh, sneaky you!” he chuckled

“Hey, I’m gonna go get a drink really quick. You guys want anything?” Vanessa asked

“I’m good but thanks” you said

“I’ll go with you” Vaughn said

“Y/N, I’ll be right back but in the meanwhile, go get out of your comfort zone a bit” she said

“Nice meeting you….”

“Y/N” you said

“Y/N! Right. I’ll see you later” Vaughn said

Vanessa and Vaughn made off into the kitchen and that left you to your own devices. You still weren’t comfortable enough to go and be social so you made your way to the couch. Luckily, you spotted the host’s dog and whistled at it. It trotted over to you and jumped up into your lap. This would be your comfort zone for the rest of the night.

*An hour later*

The host's dog had surprisingly fallen asleep while you scrolled through your phone. You weren’t gonna lie. You were sort of envious that it could sleep through all the noise. As you continued scrolling you noticed someone heading your way.

“Is anyone sitting here?” a voice asked

You looked up to see a tall figure with broad shoulders.

“Uh, no. You’re good to sit”

“Thanks” he said

You resumed scrolling on your phone

“Nice dog” he said making small talk

“I’d say thanks but it’s not mine. It just curled up next to me and fell asleep” you spoke

“With all this noise?”

“Exactly what I’m saying!” you chuckled

“I’d kill to be a heavy sleeper” he said

“If only, right?!”

You two sat in silence for a second

“I’m Brady”

“Y/N”

“Nice to meet you. So, how’d you find out about the kickback?”

“My friend is friends with the host so she invited me”

“That’s a good friend!”

“Yeah, this is my first party actually”

“Really? How?”

“Overprotective parent”

“Ah, I know your struggle. Well, if you don’t mind, how ‘bout we drink to that?”

“Uh- okay. Thanks!”

“What’s your poison?” he asked

“I’ll take a beer please”

“A beer? Ooh, so you like to play it safe huh? I’ll be right back”

Brady got up and walked into the kitchen. You were actually excited because not only is this your first party but someone came up to you instead of the other way around.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” a voice said

You turned your head and it was Vanessa

“What took you so long?”

“I was getting a drink, remember?”

“It took you a whole hour, 60 MINUTES, to get a drink and find me?!” you joked

“This place is huge”

“It’s a condo ‘Nessa”

“Anyway, you’ve been sitting by yourself this whole time? I thought I told you to go and socialize!”

“I did! I met this guy, Brady, and he’s getting us drinks”

“Oooo! I know you had a little game in that beautiful brain somewhere. Well, let me go before I ruin your moment. I’ll be in the living room if you need me” she said

Vanessa ran off again. Just as she left, Brady came back with drinks.

“Una cerveza for the party virgin” he said

“What?” you chuckled

“One beer like you asked” he chuckled

“Oh, thank you!”

“To your first party and to many more” he toasted

You two clanked your cups together and took a swig

“For someone who seems to be so sheltered, you sure downed it with no problem” he said

“Well, my Uncle Dave is italian so everytime we go to his house, he cohearses my dad into letting me have a little wine. He says the drinking age in Italy is 16 so, why not?” you chuckled

“Lemme guess, he’s the crazy relative in the family?”

“No, that’d be my aunt Penelope but he’s a close second”

The two of you talked about family, your dream career and your taste in music for about an hour. You were starting to think that maybe it was a good idea to sneak out. You would have never met Brady and the more you found out about him, the more you started catching feelings for him. Or maybe that was the beer talking. Speaking of beer, you were starting to think that that beer didn’t sit right with you. You started feeling dizzy and sick to your stomach.

“Hey Brady, I gotta go talk to my friend really quick but I promise I’ll be right back”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just not feeling the best”

“Do you want some water?” he asked

“I’m fine. I need to find Vanessa though”

You stood up and immediately sat back down

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to lay down?” he asked

“I’m fine” you said

You didn’t notice but you started slurring your words. Things were going downhill and fast. Brady didn’t….no, he couldn’t have. Things were going so well with him and you thought you could trust him. He couldn’t have possibly done that to you. You couldn’t yell for Vanessa over the loud music let alone stand up without falling over. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Come on. I’ll take you to one of the bedrooms and you can lay down there until you feel better” Brady said

Fuck. You knew what you wanted to say but you couldn’t speak without slurring your words. Everything you said came out as incoherent. Brady stood up and helped you stand up, using him as a support. He started walking you towards the back until you felt a hand yank your hand

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” a voice yelled

Vanessa. Wait.. the voice was masculine.

Vaughn.

“I’m just helping them lay down. They’re tired” Brady said

“Leave them the fuck alone” Vaughn said sternly

“Mind your business dude” Brady retorted

“I know them so it is my business. I’m not going to tell you again. Leave them the fuck alone”

Brady dropped you but Vaughn quickly caught the rest of your body.

“Have fun with them, douchebag” Brady stormed off

Vaughn fireman carried you into the living room and sat you down

“Hey Y/N. It’s Vaughn. Are you okay?” he asked caringly

“Mmmrrmgh” you slurred

Shit.

“I’m gonna get Vanessa. I promise I’ll be right back, okay?” he said

Your head lulled around and you couldn’t move your limbs. All your energy was draining. This made him panic. As he tried to get you to squeeze his hand to get a response out of you, everything faded to black.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*45 minutes later*

You woke up but everything was blurry and everything sounded muffled. You were laying down but your sickness was worse because you were being jostled around.

“There they are. Hey sweetheart. Sir-” a voice said

You looked up and saw a dark figure. Your head was on someone's lap.

“Y/N? Come on sweetheart, keep your eyes open for me” the voice said

You took a few shallow breaths before attempting to sit up

“No no, stay still, okay?”

That voice was way too familiar and it made you feel at ease. There was only one person that could clear the clouds out on a rainy day with just their voice

“Aunt Penelope?” you softly spoke

“At your service!” she said

“Y/N?” another voice said

“Dad” you cried

“How’re they doing?”

“They opened their eyes a bit and heart rate is still pretty high but they’re stable” Penelope sighed with relief

“Dad? What’s happening?”

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

You nodded your head.

“That’s an affirmative” Penelope relayed

”Listen, we’re heading to the hospital right now. You were drugged and you stopped breathing. We’re almost there so just hold on for me, okay?” he said

His voice was borderline quivering. He was scared but wanted to stay strong for you and the team. He already lost Hailey and lord forbid he was going to lose you too

Penelope rolled the window down a bit so you could get some air but right before she could touch the button, your eyes closed again.

“Sir-”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*At the hospital*

You opened your eyes and saw a handful of blobs that got clearer as your eyes adjusted to the light.

“There they are!” said Rossi

“It’s about time” said JJ

“You were scared us for a second there, kid” said Morgan

Your whole family was there, excited for you to finally pull through

“Y/N!” Jack said excited

He hugged you and you had no choice but to hug him tighter. On any other day you’d be wrestling him for the remote but considering what happened to you tonight, you needed a hug from him

“For the record, I didn’t tell dad” he stated

Everyone laughed

“I got you lavender and chamomile tea, your favorite” Reid said popping his head in

“Uncle Spence!” you said

As you grabbed your tea, you saw your dad out the corner of your eye. Uh oh.

“Can we have a moment, please?” your dad asked

Everyone filed out and the door closed. He walked over to the blinds to close them.

“How’d you find out?” you softly asked

“Vanessa called me practically screaming that you were dead! You’re lucky that the case we’re working is local! What were you thinking?! You lied to me, waited until I left the house to sneak out to a party and thought ‘what could go wrong?’ ?!” he raised his voice

“Dad, I’m-”

“What? You’re sorry?! Y/N, before we got there, you died in Vanessa’s arms! How do you think I felt? I couldn’t get to you fast enough. I had to push my way through a bunch of teens just to find my kid dead”

“What do you want me to say dad? I’m sorry that you’re still dealing with trauma from mom dying, so much so that you’ve become a helicopter parent over Jack and I? If that’s what you’re looking for, it’s not my fault that she’s dead. ”

The room went so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know”

Your dad started tearing up

“When I saw your body laying there, all I could see is your mom all over again. I was afraid that I’d have to tell Jack that his only sibling is gone, plan another funeral, and spend a lifetime beating myself up for not being there quick enough.”

“Dad, it wasn’t your fault though. It’s Foyet’s. He’s long gone now and you did what you could. This? This was my fault. I never should have snuck out. I never should have lied to you. Had I listened, none of this would have happened”

“None of this is your fault. It’s whoever did this to you’s fault. The sneaking out part, I would have found out eventually and you would’ve been grounded until eternity but to find out this way? I could care less about punishment right now, all I care about is that the Hotchner kids are safe. The BAU might be my job but being a dad comes before anything”

He hugged you and squeezed you tightly.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know Y/N. Don’t you ever scare me like that again”

“Yes sir and I love you too”

A knock came from the door before being slightly opened

“Garcia wanted me to let you know that Quantico PD has the perp in custody and he’s being processed at the station” Prentiss softly said

“You hear that?” your dad said

You smiled

“I get to have a field day with him tomorrow. He has no idea what he has coming to him”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #hotchner!reader #Aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #hotchner x daughter!reader #criminal minds imagines #cm imagine #Spencer reid x Reider #spencer reid #reid imagine #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #thomas gibson #garcia x reader #Criminal Minds #hotchner angst #hotch angst

301 notes · View notes

rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years

Text

Little steps (George Weasley x reader) | pt 2 - Interest

Pairing: George Weasley x reader, (hinted) OC x reader

Part 1

Word count: 3059

Summary: When the term starts Y/N tries to enjoy everyday life at Hogwarts, finds herself treated by the twins no more as just their brother’s friend or the popular girl and is excited for the Triwizard tournament to come. The announcement of the Yule Ball leaves her with many propositions, when she already thought she had a date set

Warnings: just a few swears

A/N: Strap back folks, cause I let loose. Didn’t want to rush things and was worried about the pacing of the plot. Excited for the next part cause we’re getting there...

September, 1994

This year was going to be a good one. All three of your previous years at Hogwarts, you and your friends never got to enjoy the ordinary. Each and every time, something was brewing, only to blow up right before the school year ended. Evenings spent on studying and essays were followed by trying to save the world. Or Hogwarts, at the very least. But not this time. You were trying to push back the memories of what happened after the Quidditch World Cup final and just be a teenager.

You sat between Hermione and Harry at the welcoming feast. The sorting hat had sang its song, and you curiously watched the sorting ceremony, wondering who’d join your house this year. But the most exciting thing that happened was, without a doubt, the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament. Even if it meant cancelling the Quidditch Cup that year, you hoped it would prove entertaining enough. You were also looking forward to what having students from two foreign wizarding schools would change in Hogwarts’ life. Only you’d have to wait two months to find out.

The next day was your first day of class, when everyone was starting to get back to their Hogwarts routine after weeks of vacation. The table was busy, some were discussing magical ways of making oneself older a few seats further, some were discussing their new timetables. You studied yours, chewing your toast and listening to what your friends had to say about it. -Today’s not bad… outside all morning, - said Ron, running his finger along Monday’s column -Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins… Herbology with Hufflepuffs, huh. You smiled a little to yourself. You had some friends in that house, two of them – Matthew and Eric – you’ve known since childhood. You even went to muggle elementary school together, before your adventure at Hogwarts began – your parents, even though pure-blood and rather wealthy, were progressive. Eric was a year above you, but Matt was your age, so you’d partner up in herbology. This year it would be slightly different, as over the summer things between the two of you changed a bit.

In the first weeks of the term, things had slowly but surely settled down. You had a new, as usual, questionable DADA teacher. Hermione decided to found S.P.E.W., trying to fight for house-elves’ rights. Although slightly unsure of her methods, you couldn’t help but agree with her message. In your world, it seemed normal, in the mansion owned by your dad’s ancestors it was normal, you never questioned it. But in your parents’ household there never was one, and you were just fine.

The day was nice, mid-September air still quite warm as you were making your way through the open corridors near Transfiguration. Your thoughts were shifting between schoolwork and leisure. As you were approaching an intersection, you heard quick, heavy steps. Most people were already in the great hall, as lunchtime started not long before.

Fred and George ran out of one of the corridors, ran past you sparing a glance in your direction as you watched with interest, and then they hopped a half wall to hide behind it. What was it this time? After them, emerged Filch, panting heavily.

For half a second you panicked. Would he blame you for whatever they did? Take you for an accomplice?

It wasn’t logical, you were just casually strolling, but you wouldn’t put anything past the old maniac. You tried to keep yourself together when he looked at you expectantly. Quickly, you pointed into one of the corridors. Your chances were 50/50, he could believe you and let himself be fooled, or see right through you, finding it suspicious, that you tried to help him and try to convince the Headmaster to allow him to tie you in his beloved shackles that were always ready in his office.

He ran. You slowly pretended to continue your way, until he was gone, when you approached the wall the twins were hiding behind. -Bli-meey, he definitely added something special to his oatmeal this morning, he never lasts this long -said George to his brother -I expected him to snuff out halfway through! -added Fred -You lads owe me one. – you said smugly, crossing your arms over your chest -That we do, flower. – George said, smiling at you, showing off his dimples -Just say a word when you wanna break some rules – Fred winked at you, then grinned at his twin and the two walked away, as you forgot where you were going before that encounter.

October, 1994

October was passing quickly in huge amounts of work, as if all the teachers made some kind of pact to rob you of free time. George and Fred seemed more confident in their bantering with you, though.

Before you knew it, there was just a week left until Halloween. You were now in the entrance hall, in front of a sign Ron was reading out loud:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early —

-Brilliant! - said Harry. -It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!

Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

The following week, the faculty was getting more and more nervous. The castle was being thoroughly cleaned and everything was supposed to be perfect for the visit. When the time for the feast came, you and your friends arrived in the great hall, which was decorated beautifully overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Before dinner, everyone headed to the Entrance Courtyard to greet the guests. Examining all the young witches and wizards from both schools you couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated. But nonetheless, you were looking forward to the following months, when the events of the tournament were explained to you scrupulously.

The next day was Saturday, which would usually mean late breakfast for most, but not today. Students were huddled around the Goblet of Fire, placed in the centre of the entrance hall. You watched curiously to see who could become the Hogwarts champion.

George, Fred and Lee decided to try their luck with aging potion, all three taking a drop of it and clearly confident in their ability to survive win the tournament and split the prize.

When you saw George follow Fred and step over the age line to place his name in the goblet, your eyes narrowed down a bit. You were just about to contemplate, what if, when- Loud sizzling noise and the twins were thrown back, rocking long, white beards. You laughed at the sight, just as everyone else. But you also felt something else deep down, which you didn’t give a thought – relief.

November, 1994

November was weird for you. Harry was chosen to be Hogwarts’ champion along with Cedric Diggory, but Ron wouldn’t believe he hadn’t thrown his name in, so now your group of friends was split. You thought the whole conflict to be a tad ridiculous, but you found yourself alone with Harry more, who most of the school seemed to hate now.

You and Hermione helped him prepare for the first task of the tournament, once you learned what it would be. Thanks to Moody’s tip, you spent hours practicing the summoning charm. You grasped it faster than Harry, and you tried not to show that it worried you a bit.

The 24th finally arrived. You found a place for yourself in the wooden stands, fellow Gryffindors around you. George and Fred were doing rounds, taking bets. After it seemed they were finished, as the first contestant was about to walk out, they took an empty spot next to you. -Care to make a bet, young lady? – said Fred, leaning down a bit and wiggling his eyebrows at you. -Gambling, huh? – you said, smirking and looking between the boys -Sign me up. -Atta girl. -George said and opened their suitcase once again. You were thankful your cheeks had already been a bit pink from the November chill as you were taking out the money. -3 galleons for Ced, 2 for Harry. – you handed them the coins -just don’t tell him -You pretended to whisper but just loud enough that they could still hear you over the crowd.

At some point after the task had started you got a bit cold and decided to put on the warm scarf you packed in your bag just in case. In the tight crowd, you clumsily fumbled with the bag and the jacket, trying to wrap yourself up. You were about to attempt to hold the bag between your knees to avoid placing it on the floor, when a big hand reached out to you from your right. You looked up to see George silently offering his help. You smiled and said ‘thanks’ just above a whisper. Handing him the bag, his warm hand brushed your cold one for just a moment. You put the scarf on, took your bag back and resumed your spectating position, this time, just a bit more to the right.

December, 1994

At the beginning of the month, the Yule Ball was announced. For you, it meant hordes of boys asking you to be their date. Even ones you haven’t exchanged a word with before. Some of them you politely declined, some of them just got a short ‘no.’

Professor McGonagall took it upon herself to make sure students from the house of Godric Gryffindor knew what they were doing on the dance floor, and not behave like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.

And so, you were all gathered in her classroom, cleared of all desks, boys on one side of the room and girls on the other. When she called Ron over to demonstrate, you couldn’t help but stifle your laughter at your friends awkwardness, when he was asked to grab her waist. Soon, she directed everyone to pair up and practice.

Just like always in these situations, you kind of stepped forward, trying not to be awkward and hide, but at the same time looked around the room a bit nervously – wondering who’d ask you, if you could afford to pick and choose or if anyone would come up to you at all.

Your eyes involuntarily found George Weasley across the room. But you didn’t expect him to also look in your direction. Neither did he, but he tried not to let it show. You weren’t able to predict, what he’d do next. You didn’t know what you wanted in that moment, either, as your thoughts seemed clouded. Whether it was for him to run over to you and sweep you off your feet or just leave you, in your nervous state, so he didn’t have to witness you like that. After all, it was unlike you. Y/N Y/L/N, the talk of the school.

You’d rather not think about what your facial expression looked like, when you saw his eyes on you, his lips slowly curling into a small, shy smile.

You were brought to the world of living by Dean Thomas who walked up with a kind smile, holding out his hand for you and asked you to dance. You liked Dean. He was nice, smart, tall and cute. You said yes and smiled charmingly. When you glanced at the spot where George stood previously, for just half a second, he wasn’t there anymore. You weren’t sure what you expected. Why would he? Besides, it was just George after all, right?

Dancing with Dean, there was some small talk about classes, a few jokes about poor dance skills, and before you knew it, Professor McGonagall thanked you all for your time and you were dismissed.

The group headed to the wide, wooden doors at the back. Dean still beside you, the two of you also making your way out. -You know who you’re going with, then? – he asked you. -To the ball, I mean. - You didn’t, to be fair. You assumed you’d be going with Matt. -No, not really – you replied, skipping the details. -So.. any chance you’d like to go with me?.. – asked Dean, smiling shyly and looking down at your face, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. You felt someone’s eyes on your back, or maybe you just imagined it. Shit. You didn’t expect that. You looked at the tall boy beside you, trying to hide your shock. In the corner of your eye, you see two tall gingers pass you by in the corridor. You liked Dean, you thought again. He was cute. -No.. sorry, mate… - you muttered, truly apologetic -Hope you find somebody nice, though – you offered him a wide, hopeful smile. -That’s alright. Had to try my luck, though – he said, nodding and grinning to you. He truly seemed to take it well. –See you around – he gave you a little wave, which you returned, and picked up his pace, losing you in the crowd. So you walked the rest of the way to your common room, in the black-and-red sea, making a little mental plan of the homework you were to do for the rest of the day.

A week later, you made your way to the library in the afternoon. You seized the moment when you were in a relatively good mood and decided it’s a good opportunity to work on some assignments, to maybe wrap them up before the Christmas break.

Walking through the library you were trying to find an optimal spot for your little session. When you picked one, you walked into the aisle and were about to sit down when you spotted George sitting in the opposite row, facing the bookcase, away from you.

He didn’t see you, as he was bent over a book, his hand supporting his head and holding hair out of his face, elbow propped on the desk. He held a quill in his other hand and seemed – focused? Maybe just a little distressed. You caught yourself staring but you couldn’t blame yourself – you don’t see a Weasley twin working in the library often. In fact, you rarely see them separately.

You looked around, stepped back and forth awkwardly for a bit, unsure what to do. You heard him mutter a few curse words to himself and have to hold back a chuckle. You debated just sitting down and just getting to your work, but you take a few careful steps to try and look through his shoulder aand-

Defence Against the Dark Arts. What sometimes seemed to be the only thing you were good at – Merlin had your back. You decided to take your chance, your own schoolwork be damned. You walk up, lean on the desk next to him- -You come here often? – was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it did, before you could think it through. Merlin would surely be proud of the bunch of curses you directed at yourself in your thoughts. What was wrong with you?!

George was looking up at you with wide eyes but amused smile.

-Eh, erm.. you need any help with that? – you tried to save yourself, gesturing at his parchment -I’m pretty good at DADA, ahead of my year, actually… - you continued, looking down, because if you kept looking into those warm, brown eyes, you’d surely be finished. -Uh, yeah, sure – he answered, chuckling slightly -I mean, I could use the help -He straightened up and shifted slightly as you grabbed the back of the chair next to him. -I don’t come here often… -he said under his breath with a cheeky smile.

After you settled into the seat next to him, surprisingly, the both of you relaxed pretty quickly. Even if you suspected it had been the first time the two of you properly talked alone. It was nice, your banter was natural and you actually managed to help him with the assignment, your own ones long forgotten.

-Thanks, Y/N, I really appreciate it. I’d probably rot in here, trying to do it myself, or just give up – he said and rolled his eyes, packing up his things and you were getting up. -No problem, really. I know how often you just need someone to put it in different words and everything starts to click. – you paused for a moment -I’ll see you around, George. – you started to slowly to walk away -Yeah, see you.. -he had packed his things already, and was looking at your back, retreating- -Hey, Y/N? – you stopped and turned back, looking at him curiously, your eyes telling him you were listening. -D’you have a date to the ball? – he asked, not believing his own words. Matt still hasn’t asked you. You suspected why, after you and Eric went a little far with your teasing when you hung out the other day, he got a little salty. But you knew he’d get over it, it wasn’t really serious, and there was still almost two weeks to the ball. -Noo.. -your tone almost saying ‘go on’. -Fancy going with me? – he asked looking into your eyes expectantly, but his voice was soft, and if we weren’t talking about George Weasley here, you’d say shy. You really had set your mind on going with Matt, Georges question was really surprising. You were not aware that was the case for the both of you. You’d never expect that. Yet the idea was interesting. You knew you’d have fun with him. -Yes – you smiled sweetly and bit your lower lip a bit, standing small in front of him He let out a breath, grinned at you and nodded too, looking away -Yeah, cool.. wicked.. – the last part almost inaudible.

Part 3

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter imagine #x reader

243 notes · View notes

ladykissingfish · 3 years

Text

Highschool with the Akatsuki

*Modern-Day*

Hidan

Behavioral nightmare. Fidgets, drops things, disrupts others’ work, talks during study/quiet times. Has to be constantly reprimanded for his inappropriate jokes and foul language. Sent to the principal‘s office so much that he was asked his opinion when the man was choosing new carpeting. Most of his friends are exactly like him, so if they’re in the same class they have to be seated clear across the room from each other. Can be a good student when he TRIES; but doesn’t see the point in trying, so will just barely be passing his classes with C’s and D’s. Skinny jeans and Vans with open flannel shirts over white or black tank. Wears a necklace with strange symbol on it, when asked what it represents he’ll say “my religion” but won’t elaborate. In the bathroom between every class grabbing “a quick smoke”. Dyed his hair silver as a joke in the 6th grade, has kept it that way ever since.

Kakuzu

As serious as a heart attack, no matter the situation. Incredibly tall and with a stern face; is almost always mistaken for being the teacher by new kids. Has an impressive collection of “old-man” sweaters. The stingiest guy alive with a buck; will actually make you hand-write him an IOU slip over borrowing 50 cents for the vending machine. Decent in all subjects but a star in Economics. Has one or two “friends” but doesn’t seem particularly close to them (or anyone else for that matter). Doesn’t talk a lot in class but when he does it’s usually because he disagrees with a point the teacher is making, and he isn’t afraid to debate him or her until he’s acknowledged as being correct.

Deidara

Deidara is one of those people who needs constant stimulation to keep him engaged in whatever’s going on. Since school tends to involve a lot of tedious repetition, paying attention in class isn’t something he’s the best at. Most likely to “finish up” his homework assignments five minutes before class starts. Grades tend to fall in the B-/C+ range. The type to always pick a seat that’s in the back of the room and/or closest to the window. Has a sketchbook that he carries around with him wherever he goes. Style consists of ripped jeans over fishnets, combat boots, fingerless gloves, band t-shirts and oversized pullover hoodies. Super-long hair tied back in ponytail. One of the first (and only) people at school to *openly* identify as pansexual; gets asked out a lot but always declines everyone because dating “would interfere with his artistic process”. Doesn’t speak a lot in class unless the topic particularly interests him, in which case he will ramble on and on until politely stopped by the teacher. His table at lunch will always be full because others are drawn to his energy and charisma. The art room is his home away from home; on a first-name basis with the instructor.

Sasori

The smart, quiet kid. Tends to keep to himself and always appears to be in his own little world. Doesn’t ever seem to be paying attention in class, but when the teacher randomly calls on him, he has the right answer every single time. Always gets A’s but will get upset over a “low A” (in the 90-94% range). A good budgeter of time and will usually manage to get most of his homework done at lunch or during study hall. Has a (small) core group of friends and not looking to add to it anytime soon. Wears a lot of khakis and long-sleeved shirts or sweaters (even in the summer). Because of his organizational skills, technical mind, and proficiency in using tools, he excels in woodshop; often informally used by the teacher as an “assistant” to help other students with their projects. Absolutely hates gym (his small stature and delicate nature make physical exertion difficult for him); this will be the only class he doesn’t try for an A in, as he skips it as often as possible.

Itachi

Dear God, the girls ((and quite a few guys)) are crazy over this boy. Is thought of as being brooding, and mysterious ... and gut-wrenchingly handsome. Very quiet, rarely speaks in class, but when he DOES, it’s always something deep and profound. Top student grade-wise. Long dark hair and soulful eyes. Style is all black, distressed baggy pants with chains, long-sleeved band or anime shirts, boots, fishnet gloves, heavy silver bracelets and rings. Is polite to everyone but only has a handful of actual friends. Submits poems and short stories anonymously to the school paper; always gets published. Is occasionally persuaded by his teachers to volunteer as a student tutor; line will be literally out the door from people seeking his “help”. Has friends in the drama club so will go to every single school play to be supportive, even if all friend did was lighting or scenery.

Kisame

Tall and athletic; captain of the swim team. Isn’t the most handsome guy but popular because of his personality. Not really the best student, but keeps his grades up enough to be able to keep playing sports. Sweatpants, Nikes, and Letterman’s jacket. The type to step in when he sees somebody getting bullied. Has a secret love for Orchestra music and likes to sit outside the band room when it’s members have rehearsals. Friends with/friendly to absolutely everybody. Will go through more than one tray at lunch. Shines the brightest during gym class. Also a surprisingly good cook; will voluntarily take Home Economics as an elective and be one of the best bakers in the class.

Obito

Known around school as “that one guy with the mask”. Was apparently in a bad accident as a child that left the side of his face heavily scarred; adopted the practice of wearing solid-color face masks to cover damage. Teachers are made aware of his situation so no one ever tries to make him take it off; although he will do so at lunch, at a table of his close friends. Smart and articulate, everyone turns to look at him when he speaks in class. Tall and moves quickly (and silently); nobody ever knows he’s there until he’s right behind them. Dark jeans, boots and will always wear a leather jacket or trench coat, even on ridiculously hot days. Doesn’t laugh a lot but when he does, the sound of it could make anyone fall in love. A big eater of sweets; will always have some kind of candy on him that he will quietly slip beneath the mask and eat during class. When caught by teacher, will claim he had low blood sugar, and because he’s a good student otherwise he won’t be questioned further on it. The type to, at the beginning of the school year, sign up for a ton of after-school clubs, stay in them for a week, decide they’re boring, and duck out.

Zetsu

Oddball kid who sits by himself and talks to himself more than seems normal. Teachers have learned early on not to call on him in class, because he’ll just sit there and give them a silent, intent stare until they move on to someone else. Surprisingly good grades despite never talking/participating. Wears cargo shorts, T-shirts and sandals with socks, no matter the weather. Always goes outside in-between class periods; sometimes misses class altogether just to nap under a tree with his face in the sun. Eventually founds and is “captain” of the school’s gardening club; not many members but the ones that do join are very environmentally conscious, modern-day “hippies”.

Pein

Legitimately has like, 9000 piercings. There’s not an inch of this guys face that doesn’t have a shiny silver stud in it. Red and black seem to be the only colors in his wardrobe; lots of button-up shirts and zip hoodies. Has a ridiculously deep voice and is always super-intense, even when just hanging out with friends. In group projects, he’s always very quickly designated as the Leader. In his group of friends, it’s clear he’s the Leader. Not the best grades but above-average. Spends a lot of time with the blue-haired girl; it’s always rumored that they’re dating although both parties have claimed to be “just friends”. A terrifyingly persuasive arguer; joins and becomes star of the debate team within a week. The type to ask a very deep, pointed question during class and change the entire course of the teacher’s lecture.

Konan

The type to have a lot of close male friends but almost zero female ones. Tends to be the “mom” amongst her group. Excellent student, always the top marks in her class. A lot of admirers but always politely turns down potential suitors. Some piercings but nothing very extravagant. The school used to have a very strict rule about dying one’s hair “wild colors”, but she dyed hers blue and led a successful protest regarding freedom of expression. Her favorite class is literature, especially when they get to the Greek Mythology and Shakespeare units. Does origami as a hobby; when bored in class will sit and tear up bits of paper or napkins and create gorgeous little flowers. Clean and organized in every aspect EXCEPT for her locker, which is a (legendary) jumbled and unholy catastrophe.

#the akatsuki #headcanon #high school #hidan #kakuzu #deidara #sasori #itachi #kisame #obito uchiha #zetsu #pein #konan

93 notes · View notes

iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years

Text

yknow while this hellsite continues on the whole religion discussion thing, i’d like to jump in on it with my experience particularly with leaving catholic school.

like aside from my angsty pop-punk/emo etc teen phase (which’ll obvs be weaved into story later on) that led me to have different views from the church and aside from the whole sexism thing that i endured over my year 10 formal/junior prom in 2010 and 2011 from staff there….. i found it within myself incredibly hard to leave there… mostly because i’d known literally 1/3 of my year group at catholic school since kindy/kindergarten or some other point in primary school.

this affected my choice to leave and it was quite tumultuous inwardly. knowing the safety and predictably of the people i was with for all those years was a comfort to me. i knew their parents due to parent mixer bbqs that we’d have after mother’s day and father’s day liturgies- although i hated the mother’s day ones mostly, due to personal reasons. but to leave that comfortable place for overly loyal, kinda sorta shy (although everyone who knew me at that school wouldn’t’ve described me as shy bc i was a very loud show off because of drama class 😅) and by year 10, very lonely, highly socially anxious and depressed, teen me was terrifying. it meant losing her friends and stability and she obvs hated that thought. it meant leaving the one one place she ever felt good at something, drama class.

obviously, after she did leave for public school, she visited the catholic school on a few separate occasions, to try and keep the connection “alive” or whatever the fuck she wrote in a fake deep status on her fb (that i now get in my fb memories every year lmao). but it all ended pretty badly, when everyone from that school stopped talking to her once high school finished. no one invited her out. or if people did try to invite her out, like a couple of people did, it always fell through…. and it made her feel like she was just a bad luck charm or whatever other low self esteem talk she was telling herself. there was quite a few moody statuses around that too lmao.

but yeah. leaving catholic school was a massive thing for me back then, because even though i hadn’t gone to church on sunday for literal Y E A R S at that point; i still had a strong pull to that school because i’d known SO MANY kids at that school from primary/elementary/grade etc school, regardless of their year group level. because if there’s one thing catholic school was good at, it was networking 😂. you knew everyone, and everyone knew you. it was safe, it was sound, so i didn’t want to leave.

but once you leave, you lose your friends and what almost felt like an extended family (although they obvs weren’t). but at the same time, i’d grown to hate the safety and almost insularity of the school, because as i mentioned earlier, you felt like you could predict how people would react or behave in class/events etc.

i felt the above distinctly, because as i’ve mentioned plenty on here, from years 7-10 i was a very emotionally demonstrative kid. in some classes (mostly religion and PE when i was bothered to participate) i’d end up in shouting matches with the teacher or other students…. or y’know just have a casual meltdown in the middle of class, which many people saw as “attention seeking” behaviour. i felt watched, i felt ready to snap, and to quote the ever present All Time Low i felt like the bridge lyrics from “therapy” (which was/is quite obviously somewhat partially about the price of fame and hollywood imo- but that went over teen me’s head at the time lmao):

“arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to, they’re better off without you (better off without you). arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to, they’ll fall asleep without you; you’re lucky if your memory remains”

like yes. i’ll admit those bridge lyrics being applied to this time is rather overdramatic, in hindsight, but hey. that was teen me for ya lmao. and don’t even get me started on applying ATL’s song “sick little games” to this at the time as well 😂😅. anyway. from all the “lms and i’ll tell you what i like about you” trend statuses that people were doing back then on fb, i’d gained the tag of “cool/chill girl”, my crush rich boy, once called me “outrageous” because of how loud i was and how willing in years 7-9 to scream out stupid song lyrics like “i want to fuck dog in the ass” by blink 182, fight song by marilyn manson and then idek probably my humps by black eyed peas at the top my lungs through the very few halls that that school had 😂😅. i was being purposely and annoyingly offensive most of the time.

but eventually, once it came to things like one of the girls in my group wanting to run for vice school captain and the other girls in my group A L W A Y S being given leadership positions (LPs)….. while i always had to apparently “repent” my behaviour by being made (in theory from my teachers) to sit alone at lunch because of my “embarrassing” and “unseemly” behaviour at the so-called “training”/ “retreat” days we had for things like being peer support leaders for the new cohort of year 7s etc etc. i felt like everyone was just waiting for me to leave…. and that they couldn’t stand my “embarrassing” presence and that i’d ruin my friends chances of being selected as co-captain or whatever other bullshit LPs they wanted to run for. but still. i felt like i couldn’t leave. just. how do you leave a bunch of people that you’ve known for so long???

and even when my teachers were nice enough to give me a chance in a leadership position once; in that dastardly bullshit internet safety workshop thing that they should’ve literally just hired a professional workshop co. to do….. but to save money they used students in my year group instead. so, instead of being marked by my teachers on this program; i was marked by the catholic education office. they had a lady come in from the ceo to judge/mark us while presenting…… and this lady went off at teen me for “not being professional, responsible and respectful” or whatever the fuck the woman told 15/16yo me…. which teen me then fired back with “i don’t have to be fucking professional and responsible!!!! IM FUCKING 15!!!!”.. so from then on i was never given an LP or any other type of “peer support” role against my friends who were littered with offers for them. mind you, i did call a whole room of 14 year olds “a bunch of cunts” or the like and then stormed out thinking that i’d made a solid point, so the CEO woman had a good reason 😂😅….. again in hindsight.

of course there was also the bitterness of teen me being angry at the english dept for not giving her a spot in the top class of english in her half of the year. but as i’ve said previously on other posts, i’ve forgiven this because i did essentially fail one shakespeare in class assessment in year 8 or year 9 😂. but i strongly felt this during my time at catholic school bc my friends believed that i should’ve been in the top english class too lmao.

but aside from those troubles and foibles, i still found it incredibly hard to leave. to leave the perceived closeness of that group of girls, who would sometimes walk me down to the office and sit with me in “purple room” while i waited for the teacher that had to act as my therapist almost lmao. even though i always told my friends to leave me be and go back to class bc i felt bad about dragging them out of class for so long.

but yeah. with all the above behaviour, the song lyrics to me at the time made sense bc teen me just felt so pressured to fit into the whole “funny, cool, outrageous girl” bs box that people had put her in…. but at the same time she wanted to escape it bc she was just *flyleaf voice* SO SICK of being laughed at instead of laughed with (atl weightless reference here kids) just because… like she DESERVED to be taken seriously for fucks sake, and not a be a “monkey do funny dance” person… she obvs felt this the most in drama class. where in the shakespeare unit, she picked a medley of romeo and juliet and taming of the shrew monologues to do for her monologue. although she nearly did lady macbeth throwing herself off the tower, to be hella edgy…. but she opted not to do that in the end. but she picked serious pieces bc she was sick and tired of being classed as the one trick pony go-to funny person.

okay. this really went off topic. but y’all get the point??? the decision of leaving catholic school was a hell of a ride for little 14-16yo me. it was confusing, terrifying and tied up in years of being overly judged and feeling like people wanted me to leave bc they were sick of me. it was tied up in years of mid-class meltdowns that had become kind of routine for me to have, and that people were just brushing me off as “attention seeking”…. but also ironically waiting for me to snap at any second for another wild shouting match or walkout; which would then make me look like i was “unruly” or “untameable/unmanageable” or whatever the fuck….. but i couldn’t take that anymore, for the final senior years. i HAD to leave it.

again it was hard to leave for loyal little teen me, despite how lonely and isolated she felt. why leave your friends when you’re comfortable??? but also: why stay in this toxic environment where people are just waiting for you to either shut the fuck up and put up with it or just blow up and absolutely lose your shit??? that’s just unhealthy asf. and the only unruly thing that’s happening here is the complete lack of mental health help or management in the aussie education system; but most especially in religious schools.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona’s catholic school memories #ilona’s catholic school rants #sorry it’s another tl;dr in the feels post lmao

9 notes · View notes

mechawaka · 3 years

Text

Spring in Derdriu

A commission for @artsytardis

Words: 11.7k

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Claude/Byleth

Rating: Teen

Mood music: Roses & Revolutions - Dancing in a Daydream

Summary: Five years after the war, Claude is the king of Almyra and Byleth is the queen of United Fodlan - but neither of them had the courage to propose at the Goddess Tower. When Byleth comes down with a sudden fever, they might have another chance.

---

They couldn’t possibly name Derdriu the new capital of United Fodlan, Lorenz had declared the very day after Byleth’s coronation. It would ‘imply things,’ he’d said, aghast that she would even suggest it.

Lo and behold, Ferdinand and Sylvain had expressed similar worries about Enbarr and Fhirdiad, respectively, and what ‘things’ their hosting would ‘imply.’

And Garreg Mach was also out of the question. Archbishop Seteth, recently crowned himself, wanted to keep the reformed Church of Seiros as far removed from political power as possible. Byleth couldn’t make her capital there, he’d insisted. The implications!

So which will it be? her newly appointed cabinet - four representatives from each geographical region, with twelve in total - had prodded, each sect adamant that theirs couldn’t possibly be the permanent home of the new government.

And Byleth, already exhausted despite only being in charge for a grand total of one moon, had replied:

All of them, then.

That day, United Fodlan’s migrating government, colloquially known as the Wandering Court, had been born. Byleth spent one season in each capital - spring in Derdriu, summer in Fhirdiad (on which she was insistent), and winter in Enbarr. In the fall, she and the entire cabinet gathered at neutral Garreg Mach to conduct any business which required everyone’s presence at once.

For five years, the system had worked perfectly. There had been some inevitable pushback at first, mostly from anti-Imperial factions who were upset that Byleth had adopted the old Empire’s ministerial structure, but they had gradually quieted down as the continental economy stabilized and flourished under its guidance.

Moreover, Byleth liked being on the road. She was raised in tents and on horseback, always moving between destinations, and the frequent travel helped soften long days of paperwork and political debate.

It also let her document certain supply and infrastructure problems firsthand; to this day, Byleth fondly remembered a tiny village on the Rhodos Coast whose inhabitants had sent in an official request for a new bridge - and had been shocked senseless when the queen herself, in transit from Fhirdiad to Garreg Mach, had shown up to build it.

(Petra had put her personal stamp of approval on that one; you only rule what you can see and touch, she’d written of the event.)

Today, though - this season, this cursed spring - the system was not working.

Oh, it had started normally enough. Byleth, once settled in the palace at Derdriu, had taken up her usual duty of hearing the cases which had passed since her last time in residence and breaking any tied votes.

It wasn’t until her ministers were tying up the season’s work that a heavy rain swelled the Airmid, causing flooding in four different territories and knocking out a siege-battered section of the Great Bridge of Myrddin. Suddenly, they were swamped with petitions: drowned fields, lost livestock, choked roads. All with less than a moon remaining before the court’s transition to Fhirdiad.

In short, Byleth hadn’t slept in almost forty-eight hours.

Her head was a splitting fissure of tectonic activity, rumbling in the background of every meeting, every hearing, and roaring to life at random intervals that left her gritting her teeth and glaring at Lorenz, wherever he was in the room.

Oh, we simply can’t stay in Derdriu permanently, she mocked him mentally as, again, a searing wave of pain spiked behind her drooping eyes. It would ruin everything, or whatever.

“- and with that in mind, the Merchants’ Association asked us to move the boundary twenty feet down the riverfront,” Marianne recited from an open ledger. She, like all the other ministers, was dressed in a smartly cut, floor-length robe of office that bore the seal of United Fodlan, with her hair gathered neatly at the back of her neck.

“Ministers Victor and Goneril voted in favor of the merchants, while Minister Gloucester and I voted in favor of the fisheries. How do you rule?” Marianne looked up from her record and across their round discussion table. Her eyes were bright and serious at first, but they creased with worry upon taking in Byleth’s pinched expression.

“Are you feeling ill, Your Majesty?”

This garnered the other ministers’ attention as well. Ignatz pushed his glasses up his nose to study her better, staring in that perceptive, sympathetic way that said he’d already identified all the faults in her appearance.

Hilda, who’d been twirling a quill pen between her fingers, glanced up and gave Byleth a detachedly brutal once-over, indicating with an arched, sculpted eyebrow that she disliked her findings.

Lorenz, meanwhile, simply regarded his queen with a dry, ‘I told you so’ stare.

“No, no. I’m fine,” Byleth asserted, avoiding everyone’s concerned faces, and especially Lorenz’s. He had warned her against overworking only a week prior, and here she was zoning out like a bored student. She’d get an earful from him later, no doubt, about a ruler’s responsibility to their subjects extending to self-care and time management.

“My apologies. Minister Edmund, please recount the case again.” Byleth pushed herself up, ignoring the pounding rhythm inside her brain. She often paced the length of the room for difficult petitions, anyway, and maybe movement would help ease the pain - but she took one step and the world went sideways.

She swayed dangerously on her feet, catching herself on the edge of the throne. Her legs were soft and wobbly as a dessert jelly; her vision swam with blots of darkness and intense color at random.

In a hushed, grave voice, she whispered, “Oh, that’s not good.”

“Quite,” Lorenz agreed curtly, having materialized at her elbow to aid in stabilization. He turned to the others, lips pursed and demeanor supremely unamused. “I believe Her Majesty is finished hearing cases for the day. All in agreement?”

Byleth barely registered the other ministers’ responses; her ears were suddenly full of cotton, dampening all incoming sound. Even Lorenz’s voice, so close at her side, was fuzzy and jumbled. She could only nod and follow him out of the throne room, vaguely aware that Marianne had joined them.

When had her headache gotten this bad? It must have been a slow progression, she reasoned as the trio headed toward her chambers, building in intensity during the meeting. She vaguely recalled an old medical lecture of Manuela’s about blood vessels in the brain, and how moving suddenly after a stationary period could cause...something. Something bad, probably.

Not for the first time, nor even for the hundredth, she wished she’d paid closer attention to the other teachers’ seminars back at Garreg Mach.

Lorenz politely turned around while Marianne helped Byleth out of her heavy court mantle and into her gigantic bed, busying himself by preparing a teapot at the dresser.

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Byleth professed as she collapsed onto her mattress, allowing Marianne’s white magic to flow over her in a soothing current. “We can re-convene at first light.”

With his back still turned, Lorenz scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s right,” Marianne corroborated, ceasing her spell and pressing the back of one hand to Byleth’s forehead. “You have harvest fever; you’ll need to rest for at least a week to let it run its course.”

“A week?” Byleth demanded, sitting straight up again. “But I leave for Fhirdiad in two!”

Lorenz brought the teapot over on a wheeled cart, putting his hands on either side and warming it magically. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have taxed yourself to infirmity, hmm?”

At that, Byleth shot him an impotent - and, in all likelihood, given her state, pathetic - glare, but the mere action of tensing her forehead muscles worsened her headache and she fell back onto her pillows, defeated. He was right, damn him.

“Byleth,” he continued, exasperated, dropping all formality as he always did in the absence of prying ears. “Just rest. We designed this government to run in your absence - let us handle things from here.”

Marianne echoed the sentiment with a soft smile, pouring some strong-smelling medicinal tea from the pot. “We’ll see that Ordelia and Hrym are well cared for,” she said, holding out the teacup like a peace offering.

Byleth grudgingly took it.

---

Lorenz squinted down at Byleth’s sleeping form, sprawled and content amongst her blankets, and sighed. No one had ever prepared her for a life of leadership and politics, but she’d risen to the challenge admirably in the last five years. Perhaps too admirably, if situations like this were any judge.

Her problem, he’d decided long ago - and informed her whenever the chance presented itself - was moderation. Temperance. Byleth Eisner tackled every problem with a single-minded determination that, while remarkably efficient during the war, had tended to cause a variety of problems in peacetime.

In that regard, she was quite similar to him. To Claude. And speaking of Claude -

“We had two guards and a trio of footmen at our assembly today,” Marianne observed, keeping her eyes on the bed, but her message was clear.

“Indeed.” Lorenz tapped the heels of his polished boots restlessly against the floor. He could practically hear the wagging tongues from here; he could picture the story of their fainting monarch billowing out from the palace like blood in water, ripe for scenting - and there was one particular green-eyed shark always circling for a whiff.

He forced a long, resigned breath out through his nose, and said dismally, “I’ll direct the staff to prepare the guest wing at once.”

---

Thanks to whatever was in that tea, Byleth slept straight through the next few days. Even when she woke, she was groggy and mostly insensate to the world around her; she recalled Marianne’s visits to administer medicine or urge a few sips of water, but other than that - nothing. Only light and color and sound, all indistinct and running together.

The fever itself wasn’t so bad. She was being treated by the most studied healer in the region, and the rest was good for her, as much as she resisted the notion.

No, what had her itching for freedom, for an escape, had nothing to do with the sickness and everything to do with her own shoddy mental compartmentalization. Byleth had a single unbreakable rule, and it had kept her safe and stable for most of her life: don’t slow down.

Her friends - formerly students, and now United Fodlan’s new ministers - had always struggled to understand what went on in her head, and Byleth had to confess that it was often a confusing place for her, too. That was why she spent as little time there as possible. If she was solving governmental disputes or plotting a route through the Oghmas, she wasn’t thinking about her problems - and for someone that had attended the Jeralt Eisner school of “don’t confront your problems until they literally confront you first” coping strategy, that suited her just fine.

But these hours cooped up in her bedchamber were slow, and Lorenz had taken great strides to ensure that nary a tax report breached its threshold. And when there was no work to do, no roadblock for her mind to chew on, it drifted to contemplation, to nostalgia, and then, inevitably, to Claude.

What would he think of the stalemate between the merchants and the fisheries? That one was easy. He’d find a third option, something neither of the institutions had proposed but that benefited both, and dazzle them with its presentation. He’d find a way to spin the conflict so that it wasn’t about competing guilds, but about the betterment of the city as a whole.

She wondered if he looked different now compared to when she’d seen him last, at the Alliance Founding Day celebration the previous Horsebow. They only ever saw each other in formal wear these days, painted and decorated and utterly without privacy. Had he let his hair grow over the winter like she had? Was it curling near the base of his neck, thick and wild?

Oh, here we go, she thought, rolling her eyes and then squeezing them shut. This was why she kept herself preoccupied; any lapse in activity brought these sorts of ideas to the forefront, and they always turned to indulgent fantasy. Only Claude brought out that side of Byleth - and it made her so paradoxically angry, and afraid, and lonely.

Angry because she hadn’t intended to let him in; he was just there one day, snugly by her side, a few months after she’d joined the faculty at Garreg Mach (and she would always lament, at least a little, that Rhea hadn’t put her with the students instead). Even after he’d admitted his ulterior motives in getting close to her, Byleth never had the heart to be mad at him for it. He was so damn endearing.

Afraid because, as easily as he’d attached himself to her, he’d un-attached. Byleth could admit to herself, alone in her darkened bedroom, that most of her mental evasion strategies centered around one specific memory: that early morning conversation they’d had right before her coronation, in which Claude had spontaneously announced his departure from Fodlan.

(“There’s something I need to do,” he’d said up at the Goddess Tower, and she had been so sure he’d wanted to say more, but instead he’d just...left.)

Lonely because their friendship had never been the same after that. They were both so busy, now, and with so much responsibility - and she missed him. Missed their easy conversation and matching drive; missed the academic dissections of famous battles and the late nights spent comparing various cultures’ names for the constellations.

Her remaining friends were certainly a balm, and she wouldn’t trade them for the world, but none of them were him. She’d never filled that spot at her side. Couldn’t fill it. Nothing and no one else fit there.

But she also couldn’t ask him back. He was the king of Almyra now, fulfilling everything he’d wanted and worked for and talked about with stars in his eyes - and Byleth could never begrudge him his lofty and admirable goals. Never. Instead, she’d had to accept the possibility that the grand arc of his ambitions no longer included her in its trajectory.

She sprawled out sideways on her bed, letting the warring emotions flood her body. Maybe this was good for her. Maybe, like the fever, she just needed to let them run their course. Maybe these were the natural consequences of escapism and denial.

And it wasn’t like she’d be able to get away from herself any time soon.

---

“Of all the - absolutely not,” Lorenz stated, planting himself in the center of the hall that led to Byleth’s bedroom. “There are procedures, Claude. Royal protocol. You know this!”

But Claude had already danced around him, utilizing that foot speed the mages never needed to master. “Come on, Lorenz, I’m not some Srengan diplomat - we’ve all seen each other covered in mud and guts. What’s a little illness between friends?”

To his credit, Lorenz didn’t ask how Claude had come by that knowledge. Nor were his protestations very vigorous, as if the man had foreseen this exact scenario - and for that, Claude was proud of him.

That pride wouldn’t keep him from his goal, however. He’d saddled up his wyvern as soon as the words “queen” and “sick” had left his spymaster’s mouth.

“She’s not well. You’ll be interrupting her convalescence - Claude,” Lorenz said sternly, holding his friend by the elbow and fixing him with a soul-searching gaze. “She cannot receive visitors in this state. What’s gotten into you?”

For an instant, Claude’s happy-go-lucky mask slipped. He’d been too pushy, so much so that even Lorenz got a glimpse of the panic underneath - the cold terror that had driven him across the continent and still gripped his heart. He knew it wouldn’t let up until he could confirm Byleth’s condition.

But he was a consummate faker, and so the mask slotted deftly back into place. “Why don’t you go ask her, hmm? I’m sure she’ll be positively overjoyed.”

---

When Lorenz walked in, Byleth was still in the same position, all spread out and despondent.

“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” he asked pointedly, and his use of her title - coupled with his formal position near the door - should have clued her in to what he was really asking, but Byleth was far too addled for nuance.

She tilted her head in his direction and flatly, shamelessly said, “Fine.”

Lorenz’s disciplined expression soured a fraction. “Well, that is wonderful news -” his ironic lilt suggested that this news was anything but wonderful, “- because you have a visitor.”

He stepped back to clear the doorway, giving Byleth a look that said she deserved everything that was about to happen. “May I present King Khalid ibn Riegan of Almyra.”

Claude poked his head in much too casually for Lorenz’s theatrical introduction. “Byleth! I brought you some -”

He paused, staring at her depressed-starfish pose. Byleth, in the blink of an eye, sobered completely and experienced all the stages of grief in quick succession.

“- fruit,” Claude finished lamely. Behind him, Lorenz pinched the bridge of his nose.

---

“Claude,” Byleth intoned, dredging up her ‘serious teacher’ voice for the occasion. She’d bathed and changed her clothes since his impromptu arrival - Byleth had never possessed a single modest bone in her body, but, again, he just incomprehensibly brought it out in her - and now she sat on the edge of her bed while he occupied the bedside armchair.

“It was so nice of you to drop in,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest.

Claude laughed anxiously, holding a woven basket full of fruit in his lap half like a shield and half like an offering to an angry deity. “Okay, why do I get the feeling you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” Byleth said icily. It wasn’t a lie; it was more like she was mad around him - mad at the space surrounding his stupid, handsome head - mad that he’d shown up, as if summoned, right when she was feeling so sorry for herself about him.

But that was far too complicated to explain, so instead she asked, “What’s your business in the city?”

He brightened a bit, perhaps relieved to divert the topic. “Thought I’d tour the Goldroad - see what travel is really like there outside the official inspection dates.”

Byleth cocked her head to the side, staring out her west-facing window. He referred to the winding trade route that now spanned the Throat, starting at the Locket and ending at a similarly sized fort across the border in Almyra - but that was over a day’s travel from Derdriu.

Following the path of her eyes, Claude went on quickly, “And, you know, I was in the area, so why not visit my very best friend?”

She wasn’t sure she’d classify a seventeen hour wyvern flight as ‘in the area.’ Byleth narrowed her eyes, looking from his rigid smile, to his posture, to the basket he carried, then back to his face, waiting for the actual answer.

“- All right,” he confessed, exhaling deeply. “My spies said you were sick, so I came to check on you - how are you still so good at that?”

She smiled despite herself and pointed at the basket, which he promptly handed over. Popping a dried date into her mouth, she asked coyly, “At what?”

Claude laughed heartily, reaching over to get one for himself, and that simple action propelled them effortlessly into a comfortable, familiar rhythm, dispelling their outer veneers of royalty.

They traded stories about travel, about new friends, about insufferable opposition; Claude told her about one of his subordinate satraps - which served a similar function to Byleth’s ministers, but with more concentrated local authority - who had threatened to raise an army in his territory over the price of grain, and then panicked when Claude had called his bluff and negotiated a lower price.

(“Did he even have an army?” she asked, completely absorbed in the story and eating sour cherries by the handful.

Claude, with a wide, gleeful grin, replied, “Not a chance.”)

In return, Byleth told him about last year’s failed rebellion in eastern Faerghus, in which a group of Blaiddyd royalists had tried to rally the region’s former aristocracy under the banner of House Fraldarius - and how Felix himself had ridden out to personally disband them.

(“Oof. Embarrassing,” Claude commented, making a face like someone had punched him in the gut. “What did he say to make them listen?”

Byleth snorted and modulated her voice to match the prickly swordsman’s. “‘This is not happening. Leave.’”)

As the afternoon wore on, servants brought in tea service and then dinner - and Byleth’s temporary surge in vitality upon seeing her dear friend started to fade, replaced by the fever-aches she’d come to know so well. Her movements grew slower and her answers shorter, overcast by brain fog.

Claude watched this change in her with considerable worry, helping her back under her blankets after they’d finished eating and re-situating the pillows around her head.

“Oh, stop it,” she chided, swatting away his hands. “I’m not completely helpless.”

He backed off, smiling easily, but stayed within range to aid her again if needed. “I don’t know about that,” he teased. “You know what they say about people who catch colds in the summer.”

“It’s spring,” she insisted, wrinkling her nose, but he didn’t laugh. In fact, there were no traces of mirth left anywhere on his face.

Byleth sat up straighter. “Claude, it’s only harvest fever. Marianne said it should clear up in a few days.”

He dropped back into his chair, resting his elbows on his knees so he could bridge part of the gap. “But what if it’s not, though?”

A nearby Church of Seiros’s evening bells rang out across the palace grounds. The brassy sounds changed with each echo, reaching her bedchamber as ghostly distortions.

“What, you think Marianne got it wrong?” Byleth asked, pulling her blanket up subconsciously.

“No, just -” Claude ran a hand back through his hair, pushing it even further out of its usual style, “- what if it’s related to...whatever Sothis did to you after the siege?”

He’d spoken so quietly that Byleth had to lean forward and slow her own breath in order to hear it. The concern in his tone - the restraint in his clasped hands; the uncertainty in his eyes - made her take a second pass over everything.

She no longer saw a casual check-in made by a concerned friend. Claude had traveled here with speed and intent, and now she knew why; just like their parting words at Garreg Mach had stuck with her, her long and mysterious slumber had probably stuck with him.

(The realization, while illuminating, didn’t hit her as hard as it should have. She thought some version of that truth, formless and undefined, must have been swimming around in the back of her mind for a while. It explained so succinctly why Marianne had insisted on treating Byleth herself, and why Lorenz stood vigil so often outside her room, even though the two had comparably little free time.)

Now that she thought about it, the long-term consequences of merging with a goddess should probably be a bigger concern of hers, too.

“I haven’t heard Sothis’s voice, nor felt her presence, in six years,” Byleth explained calmly, striving for an affect that would put him at ease. “And I’ve been in perfect health, besides.”

Claude gave her a long, lingering look - one that took in not only her face, but her long, mint-green braid and her customary wardrobe, unchanged from her days at the monastery - as if he wanted to commit her current state to memory. Byleth returned it with a confused frown, ready to comment on the odd behavior, but then his usual smile returned in a flash.

“You’re right,” he acquiesced with a little shrug, standing and straightening his riding harness. “It’s probably nothing serious. A few days, you said?”

Byleth’s confusion skewed into suspicion. Claude never let anything go that easily. “Yeah,” she answered slowly, searching his face for signs of duplicity. “Marianne said I’m already over the worst of it.”

“That’s great,” Claude enthused in the exact manner he’d use to win over his enemies, and Byleth’s misgivings quadrupled. “You should get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He was out the door in a flourish of his royal half-cape, paying no mind to the official etiquette of departure. (Byleth didn’t care about such things, but Lorenz was surely fuming about it in the hall.)

She let herself fall, warily, back onto her bed, pondering what Claude could possibly be up to - because he was up to something. It was only after she’d started to drift off, her head nestled warmly in one of about a dozen pillows, that the implications of his parting words struck her.

---

Ignatz rushed down the administerial wing’s main corridor, clutching a stack of accounting ledgers in one arm and several sheaves of operational business licenses in the other. Sunlight was just starting to peek through the hall’s windows, painting slowly elongating bars of yellow on the opposite walls; nobody would be in their offices yet, but if he could deliver his cargo before breakfast, he’d be able to get a head start on his own day’s work -

Thus distracted, he pushed his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose - using an occupied hand. Fifty business licenses, previously sorted alphabetically and geographically, drifted to the ground in a fluttering cloud of failure.

“Oh, no,” Ignatz muttered, dropping to his knees and gathering up the papers as best as he could without dropping the ledgers. If he didn’t deliver his cargo before breakfast, that would delay all of his tasks by at least an hour, thereby pushing back tomorrow’s tasks as well, to say nothing of his meeting with the merchants’ guild -

A head of shaggy brown hair and a pair of leather-gloved hands bent to organize the papers into a messy but holdable pile, then helped to situate it more snugly in Ignatz’s grasp.

In his haste and immeasurable relief, Ignatz threw a grateful, “Thanks, Claude!” over his shoulder as he resumed his flight down the corridor.

At the threshold of Hilda’s office, though, while balancing both stacks with one hand so he could turn the doorknob, he froze and shouted back the way he’d come, “Claude?!”

---

Instead of the usual morning sounds - like the rustling of Marianne’s skirts or the trundling of a breakfast cart - Byleth woke to singing. It originated somewhere to her right, winding and unhurried, and she knew this gentle melody; Claude had taught it to her during the war.

So he really was still here, then. He’d really stayed.

She opened her eyes just a hair, hoping for a chance to observe him before he noticed that she was awake.

It was still early. All the curtains were tied back and the windows cracked, letting in pale, diffused light and a sea-salt breeze off the bay. Claude stood at her personal writing desk, which Marianne had turned into a makeshift apothecary, weighing a small pile of freshly ground coriander. He was dressed more casually today, having discarded his courtly attire and riding leathers in favor of a belted Almyran-style tunic; his hair was bound in a simple but flattering tie at the nape of his neck.

Byleth watched him work - watched him thoughtfully consider the ratio of coriander to ginger to water, his hand hovering over each as he deliberated. All the while he sang that soft tune, so beautifully laden with memory and affection.

When he’d finally settled on a mixture, he reached into a pouch at his belt and uncorked a vial of honey, adding a spoonful to the mug. She tried her best to hold it in, but a tiny, breathless laugh escaped her; that rich wildflower honey was a signature of Claude’s home-brews - a sweetener to make his questionable concoctions more palatable.

He jumped and whirled at the sound, his cheeks darkening somewhat at being caught unawares, but Byleth just shook her head slowly, reassuringly, and hummed the next few bars of his song. At once, his embarrassment morphed into a wide, slanted smile, and he turned back to put the finishing touches on his creation.

“What are you still doing here?” Byleth asked, pushing herself up to a sitting position. Her hair must have been a mess, but she had to settle for a quick smooth-down.

Claude chuckled and sat on the edge of her bed, holding out the mug of steaming medicinal tea. “Really? No ‘Good morning, Claude, and thank you for taking such good care of me?’”

She took the cup and shot him a faux-scowl. “Who’s running your country, though?”

“Oh, it basically runs itself.” He waved a flippant hand, staring out a window in the direction of the Throat. “Our scholars say, ‘A king is a great ship’s rudder.’ It just so happens that my ‘great ship’ has a good heading right now.”

Byleth regarded him doubtfully. She knew this proverb, and its wisdom was definitely not intended to excuse literal flights of fancy.

“What?” he asked, rolling his head to the side playfully. “If anything happens, Nader knows where I am. Besides, aren’t you happy to see me?”

Her stern facade - only performative, anyway, since Claude never failed to disarm her - softened. “I’m always happy to see you,” she said quietly, hiding her vulnerability with a big sip from her mug. (It was delicious, of course, after being assembled so skillfully.)

The curious look he gave her in response lasted a little too long, probed a little too deep for comfort, so she followed it up with a nervous, “Where’s - where’s Marianne?”

Claude, ever-insightful, let the moment pass without remark. “She allowed me to perform her caretaking duties in exchange for a little, ah...discretion...on my part.”

That was easy to imagine. Her ministers had enough on their legislative plates without the obligatory fanfare that would accompany an ‘official’ royal visitation - so the last thing they needed was King Khalid, the former leader of the Alliance, showing his highly recognizable face all over Derdriu.

“We’re both locked up, then,” Byleth said plainly. That explained his wardrobe; a casual observer might think him no more than a member of the staff. As long as he didn’t linger in unfamiliar company, he could move freely about the palace.

“Yep.” Claude smiled contentedly, like he’d gotten the best possible end of this deal. (Byleth begged to disagree.)

In a comically professional, woefully unconvincing physician’s voice, he asked, “So, how are you feeling today, my liege?”

Byleth choked on a sip of her tea, cough-laughing and beating her chest to clear her airways. “Much better, doctor,” she spluttered, setting down her mug to prevent any spasm-related accidents. It was true; her head and body aches had been fading with each passing day, and the fever was low enough that she didn’t feel like a boiling crab leg anymore.

“Good, good,” he mused, looking far too pleased with himself. “Then what do you say to a bit of chess on the balcony?”

She gave her sternum a few more good thumps to really get all the spicy ginger out of her lungs, using the extra time to examine Claude more closely. He knew he couldn’t beat her at chess; what was this about? And was it related to - to whatever inscrutable scheme he was currently enacting?

“Sure,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t give up his plans if asked. (Not until the most dramatically poignant moment, anyway.) If she was going to figure it out on her own, she’d need more opportunities for candid observation, and chess should do nicely.

His face split into a grin immediately. “I saw a board in Lorenz’s office. Meet you back here after lunch?”

“Yeah, it’s a date,” she agreed lightly, and didn’t miss the way it tripped him up on the way out.

---

“You’re still here,” Lorenz observed with the same sort of weary derision one might direct at a persistent rug stain. He stood in the doorway to his office, holding a tea tray and projecting an aura of disappointment.

Claude, who was currently inside said office and in the midst of burgling a marble chess board, hastily clicked all its pieces back down and clasped his hands behind his back. “I am! Very astute of you to notice.”

Lorenz’s eyes flicked pointedly from his uninvited guest to his now-askew board, then he calmly strode around both to reach his polished mahogany desk. “Well, then. Would you join me for tea, Your Majesty?”

The way he gestured to the opposite chair spoke clearly of interrogation, but Claude sat anyway. It wouldn’t be polite to steal a man’s gaming paraphernalia and refuse his company.

“Why, thank you, Minister,” he answered, exaggerating his friend’s formal air, “we are simply delighted by your invitation.”

Lorenz’s poker face had improved over the years, but Claude still caught the subtle tightening of a jaw and the slightest arch of a brow; dead giveaways that he’d still snap at a piece of bait like a Brigidian piranha. Good to know.

“All right,” Lorenz said, clipped, like he’d come to a decision at the end of a long internal debate. “What are you doing here, Claude?”

Claude blinked, taken aback by the suddenness of the question. “Uh, well, Marianne and I -”

“I quite understand the generous arrangement which Marianne has afforded you,” Lorenz cut in quickly, pouring out two cups of tea. He handed one over the desk with the gravitas of a commander handing down orders. “What, precisely, are you here to do?”

Faking affrontation would be a moot point here, Claude thought. Lorenz was chasing down a specific answer, and from the set of his brow, he’d probably figured out most of it.

And that was fair. Despite their rocky interactions, Lorenz was one of the few people that Claude would say he trusted, and he knew that Lorenz felt the same (even though he had a peculiar way of showing it).

However, while Lorenz looked confident in the answer to his question, Claude didn’t even know where to start. How could he sum up this whirlwind?

Should he begin with the primal fear of hearing that Byleth had collapsed? With the breakneck flight to Derdriu, imagining all the worst possibilities in his head? (The mild shock in her eyes as she toppled backward into the chasm; her ensuing five-year absence, silent and absolute.)

Or at the boundless relief - the sheer, joyful knowledge that she had not, in fact, been re-afflicted with Sothis’s ancient sleeping sickness?

Or, should he skip straight to the certainty that he wouldn’t survive another such scare, and the unwillingness to be apart from her for even a second more, political repercussions be damned?

In the end, holding a steaming, fragrant cup of bergamot, Claude - in one of only a handful of occasions thus far in his life - couldn’t find the right words.

Luckily, Lorenz, who must have witnessed his friend’s rapid expression shifts, found one instead. Gently, and with more sympathy than expected, he asked, “Still?”

Ah, so he had figured it out.

Claude raised his teacup in a silent toast. “Still,” he confirmed, then downed it in one gulp.

“Hm.” Lorenz paused to serve out refills and scones, and Claude knew exactly what his friend was remembering.

(For five years during the war, Claude had periodically returned to Garreg Mach, even though everyone else had given up the search for Byleth. As the visits persisted in the face of increasing danger, one by one, and with varying levels of understanding and acceptance, his friends had all come to the same conclusion: their leader was in love with their former professor.)

“I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Lorenz said curtly, but not unkindly. “You have a plan, then? - Oh, what am I saying? Of course you do. The Master Tactician wouldn’t have shown up without a plan.”

Claude, who had been trying to decide if Lorenz was mocking him or not, visibly fumbled his cranberry scone at that final comment.

Instantaneously, Lorenz’s face went from invested concern to mortification. “Goddess above - you don’t have a plan.”

Claude didn’t have the heart to say that his “plans” often sprung from gut feelings like this; that, very often, he was building a bridge to his goals and walking it simultaneously, trusting that there would be another plank when he reached back for one.

In this particular instance, his bridge took the form of an impromptu and extended stay at the palace while he figured out the world’s most diplomatically sensitive marriage proposal. He wanted to tell Lorenz that, actually, he had several possible scaffolds in place, he just hadn’t chosen one yet - but Claude could see the foundational flaws in all of them, and still hovered at the juncture, unsure where to lay the next plank.

“- No, I don’t,” he finally admitted, steepling his fingers on the desk. “I’m taking suggestions, though, if you have any?”

Lorenz took a slow, calculated sip of his tea, giving Claude one of his patented ‘how did you manage to become the leader of anything’ looks. “Marianne assures me that Byleth will recover in a matter of days -”

“I know,” Claude interjected miserably. His timetable was tragically inadequate.

“- And, while your presence here is temporarily acceptable on the basis of friendship, it will become much harder to justify after the palace returns to its normal operations -”

“I know, Lorenz,” Claude said, letting his forehead fall onto the points of his fingers. The pain, he thought, was well-deserved. “Sheesh, you don’t have to rub my nose in it…”

Lorenz laughed softly. “Apologies. I’m simply savoring the moment; it isn’t often you need my strategic input.”

With his face downturned and concealed, Claude grimaced. He supposed he’d deserved that, too.

“But,” Lorenz went on, “I do have a suggestion. Given your limited available time and lack of direction, we should enlist outside support.”

Claude raised his head incredulously. “Your solution is to have more people laugh at me?”

“Yes. Hilda and Marianne, to be precise.” Lorenz smirked and crossed his legs. “And they won’t laugh - in fact, Hilda will be delighted.”

His tone of voice was too amused for the answer to be anything good, but Claude still asked cautiously, “Why?”

“Oh, because I owe her quite a bit of gold, naturally - I thought it would take you and Byleth far longer to act on your feelings, and my money was on her acting first.”

---

Byleth loved the balcony off her bedchamber. It was on the same side of the palace as the throne room, only higher, with a wider perspective of the canal below and a down-angle view of the opposite block. Sitting on it and looking out, with the stone railing acting as an artificial horizon, she really felt as if she were floating above Derdriu; the city sprawled off endlessly to her right, while its great network of canals spilled into the bay on her left, all set in miniature from this height.

A tangy sea breeze teased through her hair, rustling the many and vibrant plants - in pots, hanging from the roof, and mounted in window boxes - that scattered the area. They were in perfect health, she noticed, despite the rarity of her visits, and Byleth wondered if it was some palace staffer’s entire job to maintain luxurious spaces like these, even though some busy official might seldom use them.

She privately resolved to appreciate the balcony more often.

It didn’t take long for Claude to come whistling through her chambers, bearing a chess board like a server delivering a high-end meal. He put it down on a small, circular table where Byleth’s own board was already set up, then carefully aligned their edges to create a double-long playing field.

(They’d invented this game early on at Garreg Mach after discovering that neither of them felt challenged enough by the base rules. It had gone through several name changes before they’d agreed to just keep the original; after all, if either of them ever mentioned the game to the other, they both understood which (clearly superior) version was being referenced.)

“So, you managed to get Lorenz to part with it,” Byleth commented as he arranged his pieces and sat down opposite her. “What’d it cost you?”

Claude made a face like he’d just licked a lemon. “Oh, nothing much. Just my reputation and dignity.” He laughed it off, but there was a distinct, hollow ring of truth to his words. “Anyway. Sixty-point game?”

She cocked her head, intrigued. Their special rules allowed for custom “armies” to be built from the standard chess units, each with an individual point cost. Byleth personally liked to run an army without pawns - high risk, high reward (usually reward).

“Not forty?” she asked mildly, picking out her standard array plus an extra frontline of knights. Claude would regret handing her such an aggressive opener. “Are you trying out a new strategy?”

He grinned and laid out his own army, which seemed to focus around his sovereigns - and, as usual, contained a robust line-and-a-half of pawns. What he sacrificed in speed, he made up for in defensive surface area.

“I am. I think you’ll really like this one,” he said, playing his first (highly predictable) move.

That was the thing about Claude, though. Byleth thought his move was predictable right now, at the beginning, but he was a highly intelligent improviser. The long field between armies meant that most of the game was based on ranged path speculation.

Was a cluster of pieces actually heading toward her left flank, or would it divert to threaten other units at the last second? She’d have to put a metaphorical shield in place for the first possibility, and a sword for the other - and with Claude, it was impossible to tell ahead of time which he would actually pick.

But, despite the chaos his playstyle caused, its spontaneity was also what made him such a compelling opponent. The tactical element never got stale.

“It’s bound to be more exciting than your rook phalanx idea,” Byleth teased, starting her knights off on their long journey.

Claude gasped like she’d just insulted his mother. “Hey, that was not my fault - it was a good attack pattern in theory!”

She made a tiny sound of agreement to humor him, but remained privately unconvinced.

As usual, they lapsed into silence for the first phase of the game, each trying to dissect the other’s overall strategy. Of course, at this stage, it was largely conjecture; there would be many, many reactive and counter-reactive moves before any two units actually engaged.

The quiet was nice, though. Ships’ bells echoed in from the piers, mingling with street noise rabble and the shrill cries of bay gulls. There was no one to demand her ear or her time - a rare commodity. She could tell Claude enjoyed it, too, by his easy smiles and relaxed posture.

Why had they ever stopped doing this? It dawned on Byleth that it had been years since their last game.

“- Hey, Claude,” she said at the thirty-turn mark.

He didn’t look up from his spread. “Hm?” “What in the world are you doing?”

His green eyes, which had been bouncing between forward pawns, flicked up to her face. “Setting up my midgame?” he half-asked, gesturing to his formation like the answer was obvious. “Why, what are you doing?”

Byleth narrowed her eyes at the board. He’d split his pawns into two staggered ranks with his sovereigns in the middle, like some sort of sandwiched convoy, and the outer ring of mid-tier pieces looked to be guards.

“Your brilliant new strategy is to hand-deliver your king to my army?” she contended, tracing his column’s trek down the board with her hands, then opening them wide, fingers hooked, to mime the pieces being eaten by a sharp-toothed monster.

Claude laughed confidently. “You’ll see. The king and queen together are unstoppable.”

It was certainly an unconventional approach. By virtue of its novelty, it tripped Byleth up several times in the early game - one might even say, around turn sixty, that her opponent had the advantage. But the sheer speed and maneuverability of her knightly vanguard eventually prevailed, and by turn ninety, she had his entire escort block surrounded.

“Multi-point threat,” Byleth declared, moving in on his rear line. “This was an interesting idea, but I do believe your king is in mortal peril.”

Claude, who’d been standing for the last dozen turns, paced to the other side of the table. (He loved to do that - to see the situation from all angles, like he would in a real conflict. Unfortunately, that expanded perspective could do little for him here.)

“No, I think - listen - he still has his queen.”

Byleth examined the setup again. “Uh-huh, he sure does,” she drawled, trying to understand how that might change their fates.

“I’m just saying,” he went on, crouching so that he could view the board at eye level. “Look how far they’ve already come. Look at all they’ve been through together - it’s not like a little opposition could stop them now, right?”

She crossed her arms, a bewildered smile tugging at her mouth. “Are you seriously trying to Nemesis me right now? My bishops have them both in four.”

Claude gave a frustrated sigh. “No, this isn’t a scheme - well,” he amended, scratching pensively at his chin scruff, “okay, it is a scheme, but -”

I knew it, she thought, vindicated, and grinned accordingly.

“Ugh, forget it.” Claude toppled his king. “You’re right, it was an ill-fated venture that clearly needs outside support.”

Byleth frowned. “What? I didn’t say that.”

He waved his arms like he was dispelling the entire conversation. “Never mind. We’ve still got plenty of light - how about another game?”

---

Later that night, after Byleth and most of the palace had retired, Hilda’s raucous laughter rang out through the entire administerial wing.

“You tried to tell her with chess?!”

She, Claude, Marianne, and Lorenz all sat around a table in one of the meeting rooms, passing around a bottle of strong Faerghan whiskey.

“No wonder she didn’t get it,” Hilda continued, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes (in a delicate manner that spared her makeup). “You know how Byleth is!”

Lorenz refilled his glass, nodding emphatically. “Agreed. Subtlety will get you nowhere in that arena, my friend.”

“I thought it was sweet,” Marianne disclosed quietly.

Claude propped his feet up on an unused chair and dipped his chin gratefully. “Thank you. I also thought it would be sweet. And successful.”

He took a long swig straight from the bottle, much to Hilda’s amusement. “But you were right, Lorenz, okay? So -” he slapped the tabletop in invitation, “- go on. Advise me.”

Perhaps sensing that their friend was already punishing himself enough, no one pushed the teasing any further. Lorenz and Hilda shared a look - one that said they’d already discussed the matter privately - and then everyone got straight down to business.

“First of all, we should discuss the legal ramifications of your union,” Lorenz said, indicating the palace walls. “It’s true that anti-Almyran sentiment has died down greatly since the war, especially here in Leicester, but I fear widespread confusion - how much power would the king of Almyra suddenly have over their territories? Their livelihoods?”

Claude recoiled from the intensity. “Whoa! She hasn’t even said yes - aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves, here?”

(In truth, he had the same worries about his own homeland; it wasn’t like xenophobia was exclusive to Fodlan. His current plan - if she agreed - was to introduce her presence like he’d introduced his own: aggressively and unapologetically, with hopes that the Almyran public would regard it with the same eventual respect.)

The other three gave him bland looks.

“You really, honestly think she’ll turn you down?” Hilda asked in angry disbelief.

Claude gritted his teeth. “I don’t know - I mean, that’s Byleth’s whole deal, right? Unbeatable strategist? You never know what she’s thinking?”

“Oh, Claude,” Marianne said, patting him on the arm. “You should have more confidence in yourself.”

Hilda snorted into her tumbler.

“- Regardless, I don’t want to discuss the politics without her. If she says yes,” Claude emphasized with a stern glance around the table. “I have to get to the actual question first, okay? Lorenz. Ideas. Go.”

The man in question raised his eyebrows. “All right - well, Leonie proposed to me during a horseback ride. She’d painted all of her mounted archery targets with one word each, and in order they spelled out a question...oh, it was very romantic,” he said, his tone warming as he spoke. He then promptly cleared his throat. “But, ah, Byleth isn’t in a physical state for riding, hmm?”

Hilda propped her elbows up on the table and cradled her chin in her hands, recounting dreamily, “Marianne took me deep into the forest at night and professed her love under the light of the full moon. How could I have ever said no to that?”

Marianne hid behind her glass, her face beet-red. “I don’t, uhm, think there are any full moons coming up soon, though,” she managed to squeak out.

“Yeah, you have to do something quick.” Hilda pointed at him with her glass. “Let’s see - we already know it can’t involve winning something, so that’s out.”

Claude laughed sarcastically into the bottle.

“A grand display would not be diplomatically feasible, either,” Lorenz added.

Yeah, that made sense, Claude thought. A single plant in the throne room had brought word of Byleth’s illness to him in under three days - and he wasn’t the only one with eyes here.

“You should do something that’s meaningful to both of you,” Marianne suggested, her face returning to its usual pallid shade. “Something simple but significant. Byleth would appreciate that, I think.”

Simple but significant.

Claude swirled the idea around in his head at the same time he swirled the contents of his bottle. Significant he could do - had been doing - but simple was another story. Maybe that was his problem; maybe he just needed to go back to the basics.

“And don’t get her a ring,” Hilda said. “I never see her wearing jewelry unless the tailors insist.”

He chewed on all of that, taking slow, measured sips of whiskey. Something meaningful to both him and to Byleth - something memorable, but uncomplicated. No rings, he added mentally. That was fine; as an archer, he disliked having obstructions around his hands, anyway. (And while they were out here breaking traditions, who cared if it was one or one hundred?)

“Hey,” he began, doing some quick calculations around wyverns’ seasonal nesting habits. “How quickly could I get something down the Goldroad?”

Lorenz’s brows knit together. “From the capital to here, I presume, and with the use of your royal seal? Within the week. Why? What do you need?”

Claude grinned, luxuriating in the rush of a good plan coming together. “All right, listen to this -”

---

If she could’ve had her way, Byleth would have chosen to remain in those last days of her fever forever. Her symptoms were mild and unobtrusive, she didn’t have to do any paperwork, and Claude was there; simply put, it was the ideal situation.

They spent four whole days together playing games, mixing various drinks, going for (short and supervised) walks around the garden, and reminiscing about old times - but Marianne’s medicines were effective and all things, even good things, must end.

On the morning of the fifth day, she knew she was cured. Her mind was clear and her body strong, if a little feeble from the bed rest. Everyone else must have been on the same page, too, because Marianne came to greet her after breakfast in Claude’s stead.

“So that’s the end of the arrangement, then?” Byleth asked, trying to keep her voice even and normal.

Marianne smiled softly and pressed the back of her hand to Byleth’s forehead. “Yes. Claude will be returning home this evening, as I’m sure he has many decisions waiting for him there.”

That makes two of us, Byleth thought dejectedly.

“Your temperature is perfectly normal,” Marianne reported. “Do you have any lingering fatigue? Dizziness?”

“Nope. Nothing,” Byleth said, heaving a reluctant sigh. “I suppose I should head down to the audience chambers.”

She really, truly hadn’t meant to sound like a pouting toddler bound for punishment, but that was exactly how it had come out.

Marianne laughed. “Yes, you should - tomorrow.” To answer Byleth’s questioning stare, she pointed across the room. “I think you’ll be too busy today.”

Right on cue, something large impacted outside the windows with a dull, cracking thud. Without thinking, Byleth whirled, ready for some sort of threat - (her sword belt was hanging next to her bed, easily accessible for such emergencies) - but it was only Claude on the balcony.

Rather, it was his massive white wyvern, Sahar. She’d perched on the railing, her sharp claws gouging long scrapes in the stone, and he was mounted on her back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for that!” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Good morning! Care for a ride?”

Byleth burst out in surprised laughter, too endeared to be mad about the property damage. She looked back, confused and curious, but Marianne just shook her head.

“Go,” she said, gesturing outward. “Have fun. You have my official medical clearance.”

That was all the permission Byleth needed to throw open the doors and run out, barefoot and grinning, to leap at Sahar’s saddle. The seaside wind blasted her hair back and Claude opened his arms for her arrival, bracing in his stirrups to absorb the impact.

They’d performed this maneuver many times during the war; since Byleth preferred to do her fighting on foot, Claude would often sweep down to reposition her more quickly. Even after five years without practice, they executed the pick-up without a hitch: she landed knees-first at the front of the saddle and Claude anchored her, wrapping both arms around her midsection.

In combat, the move had been utilitarian - the fastest way to mount up. Right now, though, it felt more intimate; with no armor, no weapons, and no urgency, they were basically just hugging on wyvern-back.

Byleth quickly turned herself around, hoping he hadn’t seen the blush rising up her neck.

“That eager to get out of there, huh?” he teased, helping her get situated.

She rolled her eyes and cinched a pair of flight straps around her waist. The fit was snugly familiar, securing her to both the saddle and her fellow rider.

“You know the answer to that,” she replied, glancing down the tall outer walls of the palace. A few people in the canal-side gardens had looked up at the spectacle; they were too far away to see much detail, but this was clearly the queen’s bedchamber. “This isn’t the most discreet escape, is it?”

Claude scoffed, turning his mount skyward with a nudge. “Oh, it’s fine. Not many Fodlanese know about the white wyvern thing. Besides,” he said mischievously, testing the knots on her straps, “didn’t Marianne tell you? Our arrangement is done.”

With that, they were off. Sahar spread her massive wings - leathery and smooth, delicate and powerful all at once - to catch the current, pushing herself off into it and raining stone chips and dust in her wake.

Byleth yelped at the sudden lurch, falling back against Claude, who gladly supported her while they gained rapid altitude in the midday sky. Sahar’s rhythmic wing beats took them high above the notice of anyone in the city, down the palace’s canal and out into the bay.

She watched it all fall away as they climbed. The great trade ships shrank to the sizes of beetles in their lanes; the flocks of gulls that chased them, to mere specks. The ocean itself became an undulating cobalt tapestry, shot through with threads of white and gray.

When they leveled off and the wind died down in their ears, Claude spoke, “Remember when I taught you to fly?”

A series of images flashed in her mind: wrangling a saddle onto an impatient wyvern; losing straps and buckles under flapping wings; falling before she could even take off - so, so much falling.

“I remember when you tried to, sure,” she said, cringing at the memories. Even Leonie, who never gave up on anything, had declared Byleth’s flying skills unsalvageable. “Why?”

Claude laughed a little too hard, like he was recalling the very same foibles. “Nah. You just needed more time - we couldn’t spare any in the war. But now?”

“Are you suggesting,” Byleth said, throwing him a flat look over her shoulder, “that I fall on my ass repeatedly in front of the entire court? It was bad enough when it was just jeering students.”

“No, no, my point is -” Claude directed her attention back to their view of the bay, “- you could come out here whenever you wanted. Get away from it all.”

So he’d noticed her restlessness. Well, of course he did, Byleth admonished herself. He’s Claude.

“That would be...nice,” she admitted, giving him a half-smile. “It’s different, isn’t it? Leading during peacetime?”

He relaxed his hold on the reins and let Sahar go where she would in the open sky; she took full advantage of the freedom, floating into various air currents and skirting low, wispy clouds.

“Yeah, it is.” Claude’s tone was sober and diminished. He prodded gently, “How have you really been, Bee?”

The nickname brought unexpected tears to her eyes; he hadn’t used it since they parted at Garreg Mach five years ago. She’d forgotten how fond and welcoming it sounded - how warm - coming from his mouth.

Byleth faced straight ahead, glad he couldn’t see her expression. It must have been just as regretful and conflicted as her mind.

“I never expected to be here,” she murmured, and in her heart she finished the thought: without you. Her voice barely carried over the wind, but she knew Claude had heard it; he scooted closer to her in the saddle, whether consciously or not. “Everyone around me is so certain of their place, and I’m...not.”

Her thoughts strayed to Edelgard and Dimitri, to their twin drives that - even misguided and corrupted as they were - strove for a better world at their roots. Byleth, who held no grand vision for the future, couldn’t help but feel unfit for the mantles they’d left behind.

(Truthfully, that was one of many reasons why Derdriu was her favorite capital, and spring her favorite season. Fhirdiad’s and Enbarr’s thrones still felt like someone else’s seats to her - someone else’s dreams.)

“I don’t think anyone expected to be where they are now,” Claude said, matching her volume. When Byleth shot him another ‘quit your bullshit’ look, he chuckled and corrected himself, “Okay. Maybe I did, but nobody else did.”

“Lorenz thought he’d be leading the Alliance, hitched to some noble lady. Hilda didn’t think she’d be doing anything.” Claude put up one finger for each example. “Marianne wanted to keep her head down. Ignatz thought he’d be barred from his passions.”

He rested his chin on the top of Byleth’s head. “Expectations and reality don’t always match up. Are you unhappy with where you are, Your Majesty?”

I’m exceedingly happy where I am, she thought, easing herself back to rest against him. And that’s the problem.

“No,” she answered simply. “I’m not.”

Claude, perhaps sensing the dishonesty in her words, hummed doubtfully. The sound rumbled deep in her chest. “Well - if you ever were unhappy, you know I’d help, right? No matter what it was.”

“I know,” she said, tilting her head to smile up at him. “And - I think you’re right.”

He shifted to accommodate her better, crossing his arms over her lap to grip the saddlehorn. “Oh? About expectations?”

“No, about flying.” She settled into their pseudo-embrace, resolving to enjoy it while it lasted. “I should learn.”

Claude made a small, happy noise in his throat. “I’ll teach you. It’ll be great.”

They drifted down the Edmund coastline in a comfortable quiet after that. If not for the Throat looming in the distance - a constant reminder of the hourglass hanging over their flight - Byleth would’ve been perfectly content. The longer they went, the more she wished he would just keep flying straight over the mountains - but the sun continued on its inexorable path through the heavens, and all things, even good things, must end.

Still, though, when he wheeled them around and began the journey back, Byleth thought she detected a resonant note of hesitation in him.

By the time they’d reached the bay of Derdriu, the sun hung low and the sky had turned to vibrant oranges and indigos; the frothy crests of waves, the metal fixtures on ships’ masts, and even the scaly tips of Sahar’s wings shone golden in the rich evening light.

The palace’s white marble exterior reflected sunset-colors onto the streets and canal below. In any other instance, she’d find it beautiful, but right now it was no different than the Throat: an ominous, prohibitive barrier.

Claude guided Sahar to the balcony again, wincing as her claws ground fresh holes into the railing.

“- I’ll pay for that,” he reiterated sheepishly, then hopped down to offer Byleth a hand.

She took it, letting him assume her weight while she scrambled much less gracefully to the ground. The stone tiles, quickly cooling with the onset of night, chilled her bare feet on contact; she shivered, looking back wistfully at the evening sky.

When she turned around again, Claude was watching her intently. Unreadably.

“Did you enjoy the ride?” he asked.

“I did. Thank you.” She tried to match his tone, to hide her sadness - to appreciate the time they’d had together instead of mourning its conclusion. “I suppose you need to get going, then?”

“Mm, not quite yet,” he replied with a secretive smile, wrapping Sahar’s reins around her saddlehorn. He muttered a phrase to her in Almyran, to which the great wyvern nuzzled into his hand and took off in the direction of the aviary.

“Let’s get you warmed up, first.” He strode past her to the open balcony doors, jerking his head toward it encouragingly when she didn’t immediately follow. “Come on, it’s okay - I have time.”

Byleth trailed after him, instantly suspicious. He was using his ‘false sense of security’ voice again, like he had on the first night. “Claude, what are you planning?” she called out warily, stepping into her darkened bedchamber.

A spark struck in the hearth, setting the tinder inside ablaze and silhouetting Claude in a red-orange halo. “Why do I have to be planning something?” he countered, overly defensive, as he stoked the fire. “- You looked cold, is all.”

She gave him a skeptical once-over, then turned to grab a cloak from her wardrobe - and there on her dresser, shining in the firelight, was a lacquered ebony box the length of her arm.

It was decorated with glittering gold leaf along its edges, clearly meant to hold something valuable. Byleth whipped around to fix Claude with an accusing glare, but he just shrugged innocently and motioned for her to open it.

He had a long history of bequeathing strange gifts to his friends, always seeming to enjoy the reactions a little too much. Byleth wasn’t aware of any current holidays, though, either in Fodlan or Almyra.

She sighed and lifted the lid. “I swear, if this is another apron -”

The breath caught in her throat. It most definitely was not an apron.

Nestled in a bed of burgundy velvet, only slightly smaller than the box itself, laid a porcelain-white wyvern egg dotted with flecks of pearlescent ivory.

This time when she glanced back, it was in affectionate curiosity. “So this is why you were pushing flight training,” she said, gingerly touching the warm shell. “But - aren’t white wyverns only given to members of the royal family?”

Claude moved to stand next to her, drained of all his earlier mirth and bravado. In its place was a tense energy she hadn’t sensed in him since they’d last met at the Goddess Tower.

“Well, yeah, that’s the idea,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I was hoping you’d, uh, well - I wanted to ask you, since -”

He stopped and grunted, looking disgusted with himself. “Let me start over.”

Byleth nodded, absolutely baffled. What in Sothis’s name was he trying to say?

Claude ran a hand back through his hair and took a deep, steadying breath. “We both didn’t have the best experiences with family growing up. I mean, you had Jeralt and I had my mom, and they were great, but other than that it was…”

“Lonely,” she offered. They’d discussed their respective childhoods many times before - commiserated in the shared wounds of alienation and neglect.

Delicately, he took her hand and squeezed it. “Yeah. Lonely. And if I’m reading this correctly, so were the last five years, right?”

Byleth swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded again.

“Yeah,” Claude repeated softly. “For me, too. So, I thought - maybe neither of us has to be lonely anymore.”

His meaning dawned on her like a sunrise, blooming heat high in her cheeks. Her embarrassment fueled his, in turn, and they were left staring at one another in stunned silence; from an outside perspective, they must have looked - fittingly - like a pair of panicked deer.

“Claude,” she pronounced thickly, needing to verify her theory, “are you asking me to…?”

“Mhm,” he confirmed, a portion of his usual confidence flickering back to life in his smile. He tipped her chin upward with his index finger. “I want to be your family. I want you to be my family.”

Byleth had spent the first part of her life without adequate modes of expression. Before meeting Claude, she’d gotten by on curt gestures and a flat affect - and now, in the face of overwhelming emotion, she regressed right back to that state.

All she could do to communicate her answer was to jump and reach for him, just like she was leaping onto his wyvern - and, predictably, protectively, his arms closed around her. Anchored her.

Like always, she thought. A perfect catch.

“Woah - I’ll take that as a yes, then?” Claude asked, tentatively hopeful, laughing and stepping backward from the unexpected force.

Byleth buried her face in his shoulder and nodded, unable to speak; hot tears spilled from her eyes, soaking into Claude’s tunic collar, and her wrists trembled where they were clasped at his neck. Her heart had never beat, yet now it was overflowing, filling her chest with something happy and potent and home that she’d never dared to covet before.

In the glow of the hearth, to the crackling of logs and the faint rush of a sea breeze outside, Claude rocked them back and forth at a measured, soothing pace. He kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheekbone, wiping away her tears with his thumb and whispering in a shaky voice, “It’s okay, Bee. We’re going to be so happy, I promise. I promise.”

---Epilogue---

Lorenz understood the severity of the Airmid flooding - really, he did - but he did not understand why it needed to translate into a six-in-the-morning assembly. Anything the ministers discussed there could be handled just as easily, and with more lucidity, during their regular working hours.

Still, he trudged diligently up the stairs to the meeting rooms. If there were emergency measures to enact, then, by the goddess, he’d see them enacted. The peoples of Hrym and Ordelia had already suffered enough for several lifetimes.

He was just inside the threshold, blinking and stifling a yawn, when he saw them: Byleth and Claude, seated side by side at the head of the meeting table, the former digging into a plate of food and the latter grinning like a madman.

Lorenz’s yawn cut off abruptly; his jaw snapped shut with a click.

“You’re still here,” he grumbled, sliding into a chair on an empty side. “Somehow I doubt this is about the floods.”

Hilda and Marianne, who were sitting opposite him, giggled quietly together, their hands clasped on the tabletop. (Frankly, it made him jealous. Leonie hadn’t wanted to touch the office of royal minister with a ten-foot lance.)

“Nope,” Byleth said, pointing at Claude with her fork. “This is about the legality of our marriage.”

Hilda clapped frantically with excitement. “Congratulations! Ooh, this is going to be the biggest wedding ever - can you imagine the guest list? We’ll be curating it for months.”

“I think I’ll exclude my paternal cousins,” Claude mused. “Just to watch them squirm.”

Marianne nodded. “They deserve it.”

“Wait. Hold.” Lorenz slapped his daily ledger down on the table like a judge calling for order, and it worked just the same. The rabble died down, all eyes turning to him. “First of all: congratulations, you two. You’ve made me a marginally poorer man.”

Hilda snickered triumphantly.

“Second: this is going to be a legislative nightmare - and don’t you tell me differently, Claude von Riegan,” he added, holding up a finger when it looked like Claude would cut in.

“I’ll abdicate,” Byleth suggested, stabbing into a sausage.

“No -!” all three ministers shouted in unison - even Marianne, who’d also half-stood from her chair, hands braced on the table.

(Meanwhile, Claude simply watched his new fiancee with moon-eyed adoration; Lorenz was sure he’d humor anything she said right now.)

“That - that won’t be necessary,” Lorenz said, clearing his throat and smoothing down his ascot. “I only mean that it will take time and collaboration. Claude, I insist that you stay another week while we draft something for you to take home. I’ll write to Nader.”

Byleth let out a rare exuberant gasp; beside her, Claude glanced down the table and gave Lorenz a sly, conspiratorial wink.

“- Oh, try to act professionally about this, would you?” he insisted, but an infectious smile was already spreading across his own face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author’s Notes

candidates for game names:

byleth: better chess (rejected - judgmental)

claude: long chess (rejected - misleading)

hilda: chess 2 (considered but ultimately rejected - legality)

lorenz: tactician’s chess (rejected - boring)

#mega writes #fe3h #claudeleth #images are free to use and sourced from pexels pixabay and unsplash

71 notes · View notes