#laughing buddha for office desk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysticnfantastic · 4 years

Text

This is a commission I did for @lynettethemadscientist! It’s a Reader x Zen x Jumin oneshot. (~6,100 words)

If you’re interested in supporting me, here’s my Ko-fi: Ko-fi.com/nadzieja_ewelina (In return for a ko-fi you get a 500 word drabble or scenario of your choice, a shout out on a blog and personalised thank you from me)

If you’re interested in commissioning me, here’s my charges, rules and business email:

https://mysticnfantastic.tumblr.com/post/617234698987601920/writing-commissions [email protected]

Now without further ado;

Widow! MC/Reader (female) x (Low-key soft-core Yandere) Jumin x Zen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jumin’s POV; Phone in hand, Jumin sighed softly to himself as he texted (Y/N), asking her about her day and whether she’d eaten. His chest clenched as he spoke with her, feeling an unusual...fondness, for her. There was something about her that caused his palms to sweat, face to turn a subtle rose shade, and heartbeat to increase. Jaehee had informed him these were symptoms of ‘romantic affection’. How strange. Indeed, Jumin Han did enjoy speaking to (Y/N). She was a wonderful woman who had intelligence and kindness in her heart, yet spoke her mind with a fierceness Jumin had never seen in anyone else. Most women would fall at his feet and attempt to gain his favour and it was no surprise this was because of his grand wealth. But (Y/N) was different - unlike anyone he’d ever met - he supposed he could compare her to Rika in certain ways, but even Rika paled in comparison to the sheer amazement Jumin internally felt whenever he thought of (Y/N).

Despite his admiration for the woman, there seemed to be a distance between them, imposed by her. She was as cheerful as she was playful when the time was right, but the moment Jumin would attempt to instigate anything romantic she seemed to shy away, hurriedly changing the subject and for the life of him he could not understand why. Was she not interested in him? At the mere thought of this, his heart sunk and he placed the phone down on the desk in front of him, swirling around on his chair, glancing out at the late-night city skyline from his office. In times like these, he couldn’t help but think back to Rika. Was he destined to fall for women who would never be his?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zen’s Pov A notification sounded throughout the room as Zen reached out to check it, towel around his waist and steam still floating up from his wet skin. He smiled to himself when he noticed that (Y/N) was messaging him. He instantly replied and placed his phone down just quickly enough to change into his nightclothes, his phone once again within his grasp as soon as he was finished and would continue to be held by him until (Y/N) needed to sleep. Usually, he would value his sleep above anyone else’s but if it was for her, he didn’t mind staying up later than he ought to. For (Y/N), even beauty sleep could wait.

(Y/N). Her name sent shivers down his very spine and he felt himself blush at the mere sound of just her name. Never before had he felt like this about anyone, it seemed unreal - as if they were the leading love interests in a movie, destined to fall in love under mysterious and dramatic circumstances. Perhaps he was just too much of a hopeless romantic, but a part of him dreamt of a future where, just maybe, (Y/N) could be with him. Maybe his fantasies would remain simple wishful thinking, but hope blossomed within his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jumin’s POV Golden light shined down upon the party guests from the ceiling above, encasing everything in its glittery gleam, including (Y/N). Jumin stared at her like a man who had never before witnessed the radiant allure of the sun; she took his breath - his very life force - away with a single smile. His heart pounded in his chest and lightheadedness crept into his head as he attempted to clear his throat and conceal the gentle blush that clung onto his cheeks. God above, why did he feel so...nervous, around her? She was...wonderful. She was absolutely perfect - she was the woman with the most awe-inspiring personality, and now it turned out she was also the most stunning woman he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Guilt spilled into his thoughts like dripping ink at the sudden remembrance of the emotions he held for Rika that had been kept tightly locked inside of him in secret from the world because Rika hadn’t been his to love. And now she was dead, he reminded himself, trying to shake the irrational feeling of betrayal. He could not betray someone who was dead, and one who was never his, to begin with.

It seemed, at times, that (Y/N) was the only cure for his troubles. The moment he snapped out of his mental strife and turned his gaze back to her, the concept of Rika faded into obscurity. (Y/N) saved him from reliving the past that he wished to bury behind in the dust. Dark eyebrows furrowed, however, when he noticed a certain snow-haired pest speaking to her. Zen. Taking a deep breath, he glared at the male from a distance, wineglass full of crimson held in his hand as he observed them. What was Zen planning, he wondered? It was no secret to anyone that Zen held affections for his (Y/N) - Jumin froze, staring down into his vermillion reflection in the wine, mentally correcting himself that, no, (Y/N) was not his - as much as he desired her to be. Dark temptation clawed away at him regardless, whispering things he’d never say aloud. No, no...you were your own person, and you would choose who you would want to be with, but Jumin could not help hoping that you shared his romantic sentiments. He already felt the bitter sting of unrequited love once when he’d been forced to watch his best friend almost marry the woman he loved, and the idea of going through that humiliating pain once again made his throat tighten with fear.

Oh, Love, what a fool it made of him.

Zen’s Pov “(Y/N)...” His enthralled voice gained the woman’s attention as she turned around to face him, smiling, but the snow-haired man noticed melancholy hidden away inside her eyes at all times. “Zen.” She greeted politely, nodding her head at him as an acknowledgement of his presence, her hands held together at her front; she was clearly uncomfortable in such a large crowd of people, and did not enjoy the stares of men on her dolled-up figure. He couldn’t blame anyone from being enraptured by her beauty; she reminded him much of the glimmering moon - to be awed, adored and admired. “Y-You, uh,” He cleared his throat, uncharacteristically awkwardly for him, “You look gorgeous tonight.” His compliment caused her to smile weakly, “Thank you, Zen. You look quite handsome tonight, as well.” Hiding his smile was impossible when she complimented him, a cherry-blossom pink coated his cheeks. He could tell from her restless body language she seemed to abhor the staring strangers, and he had a brilliant idea. “Would you like to go to the garden with me for a walk?” For a flicker of a moment, he saw excitement shining in her (e/c) eyes, but this was quickly replaced with fright. “I-I…” She stuttered, sighing softly and shaking her head, “I’m sorry, Zen.” Her tone was colder, now. She was distancing herself from him yet again. “I...have to go use the ladies’ room.” With newly-found speed she left the ballroom into the corridors, not turning back to look at him once.

Dejected, Zen sighed and walked over to where the wines, champagnes and snacks were stationed, deciding a drink would not be bad in this situation. He wondered if he did something wrong; did he offend (Y/N) in some unknown way? Or was he simply too forward with his advances? Did she have no feelings for him at all?

“Looks like your narcissism has frightened (Y/N) away.” Zen internally groaned as he poured himself a glass of champagne, glaring over his shoulder at the dark-eyed man speaking to him, “At least I try to talk to her and socialize instead of staring like a stalker, Trustfund Kid.” A soft growl sounded from Jumin’s throat as he clenched the wineglass in his hand. “Besides,” Zen added, taking a large sip of his champagne, “It isn’t as though she’s been any closer to you than she’s been with anyone else.”

“Hey guys!” Seven’s cheery tone distracted them both from their passive-aggressive semi-argument, waving over to them as he walked over, hands loosely inside his pant pockets. “Why is it that there’s never any honey Buddha chips at these events? The tragedy!” He dramatically lamented, causing Zen to snicker and Jumin to sigh and roll his eyes, drinking his wine silently. Having been a spy, the red-haired hacker was able to pick up on the tension between the two with ease, wondering what happened; this didn’t feel like the typical petty arguments and banter that the two would have, it was more...personal. “What has your eyebrows in a furrow?” He questioned them both, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table in the middle of them, a goofy smile on his face. He was trying to cheer them both up the only way he knew how. He wanted his friends to just...be happy. Be happy like he feared he would never be. “Tell Uncle Seven what’s wrong-” “-Only if you promise to never refer to yourself as ‘Uncle Seven’ ever again.” Jumin quickly cut in, downing the last of his wine and turning to pour himself another glass. Zen laughed softly, but then reminded himself of the situation at hand, and swirled the champagne in its glass, lost in thought. “It’s about (Y/N), isn’t it?” That caught both Jumin and Zen off-guard, as they turned to Seven in bewilderment. “How’d you know?” Zen choked out, almost dropping his glass from the embarrassment. He felt like a lovesick schoolboy when it came to (Y/N). Seven laughed and shook his head, “You both act as though your feelings for her aren’t the most obvious things in the world.”

“Unfortunately,” Seven’s tone contrasted from playful to severe, “I don’t think she’ll be getting involved with either of you.” “Oh?” Jumin’s eyes squinted as he listened to Seven, urging him silently to continue, taking another sip of wine, “Why’s that?” “Oh, she’s a widow-” Seven spoke before thinking, immediately covering his mouth with his hand, wide-eyed and nervous before slouching. “I...should not have told you that.” He decided, regrettably. Turning around, Seven made sure (Y/N) was nowhere in sight before continuing, but the news seemed to shock Jumin who released his hold on the wine glass, causing the crimson to spill and glass to shatter. “Widowed?” Both Zen and Jumin gasped at once.

Zen threw his head back and downed the champagne before taking a deep breath. That was...certainly not what he’d been expecting. He turned to look at Jumin, who seemed more shocked by the news than he did. The businessman cleared his throat and excused himself, leaving the room. For once, Zen couldn’t blame him; he felt faint himself. (Y/N) had been married before; and not only that, she’d been widowed. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain that brought with it. To love someone and have them taken away from you by the cruelty of Fate...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jumin’s POV Fingers tapping on his glass desk, Jumin tried to think about work-related matters but found himself unable to focus on anything other than (Y/N) and her status as a widow. If there was one reason as to why she seemed so hesitant to be remotely romantic with anyone, Jumin hadn’t expected this to be it and, frankly, he was having a painfully difficult time adjusting to the information Seven had blurted out at the party.

He picked up the wine glass beside him - he decided since he couldn’t focus on work anyway, he might as well try to relax his nerves with his favourite drink - taking a generous sip of the blood-like substance in order to cope with the torment of his mind. (Y/N) had been married, once. What if her husband were still alive? He likely would have never even met her; and if he had, he knew better than to assume he would’ve had a chance at seducing (Y/N) into leaving him. Yet it made him wonder what type of man he was. The first thought was that he was a good husband, but a twisted aspect of his personality made him hope for the worst - that (Y/N)’s late husband was cruel, abusive, arrogant...and soon he found himself spiralling into a near-obsession with the concept of her dead husband.

Did she still love him? Had she never loved him? Was she a happy bride or neglected, abused? Did he please her sexually, or was their marriage a stale one?

A thousand questions required two thousand answers in order to satisfy Jumin Han and sate his curiosity. Placing the glass down he took his phone and decided to fulfil some favours owed to him by people who had...connections. “Good evening to you, Mr Song*.” He spoke up immediately after hearing the man answer from the other side, “It’s Jumin Han. I assume you know why I’m calling?” Jumin’s voice was cunning, decisive and darker than it perhaps ought to have been. “Mhm. Exactly,” The corners of Jumin’s lips turned up into a smile, spinning around in his chair to face the nighttime city skylines. He spent most of his nights at his office. “I need you to run a thorough investigation on (L/N) (Y/N). Specifically on her relationship with her late husband.” He leaned back against the leather seat and drank in the beauty of a city at night as he spoke, “Brilliant. Goodbye.” He hung up, feeling accomplished. A part of Jumin knew this was wrong to do. He knew that this was (Y/N)’s private life, that she deserved her privacy; but he also couldn’t bring himself to care - not when his sanity felt as though it was hanging on by a thread if he didn’t find out about her previous marriage.

And, more importantly; he needed to find out how to win her heart from a man who was buried six-feet-underground and win against the feelings she felt for him in the past. The investigation was a reasonable step, he was sure she’d understand. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Zen’s POV Pacing around his apartment, Zen tried to think of what to say to (Y/N) the next time he saw her. Should he even tell her he knew? Or keep it a secret? Logically he knew that the moral thing to do was to tell her but a selfish part of him wished to make her believe he was clueless about the status of her marriage (or lack thereof) so that nothing would change. Still, he thought of himself as a man who respected morals, and he knew what the right thing to do was - he had to meet with her and talk. Until now, he believed she was just shy or scared of falling in love - he supposed the latter was true, in a way, but not as he had expected. There was a thought in the back of his mind that spoke to him; What if (Y/N) is still in love with her husband? It was a dreaded thought, but one he understood was possible. In the end, no matter how deep his feelings for (Y/N) ran, he knew that what she suffered through had been a traumatic experience and he was not going to try and force himself into her heart if her heart was eternally closed and beating for a long-gone man. Who was he to try to pry it open? He wanted to, of course - he wanted to try and find a way into gaining her love - but he couldn’t. Not when his mind told him the better option was to communicate with her and ask her if she could ever see him in a romantic light. If all she would ever see him as is a friend, he’d take it, even if it was going to shatter his heart.

Just...as long as he could be a part of her life, he’d be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meeting with (Y/N) was easier said than done. Here Zen was, preparing for her to come over to his apartment as he laid out some refreshments and tried to soothe his growing nerves. She didn’t know why he wanted to meet with her but he was glad she agreed to come over without much questioning. Were his palms sweating? Oh, God, they were. Taking a deep breath, Zen knew he had to remain calm right now, this was not going to be an easy thing for them to talk about and as much as he may want to make the situation about himself, he had to fight that urge because this wasn’t about him, it was about (Y/N) and the grief of her past. He reminded himself that his feelings didn’t matter in the situation because (Y/N) was her own person and did not have to reciprocate the strong feelings Zen held for her; if she did not want him as he did her, he needed to accept that. It hurt, but he knew he’d have to accept that. The sudden knock on the door caused him to hold his breath as he cleared his throat and opened the door, seeing (Y/N) standing in the hallway and looking as beautiful as ever, with her godlike eyes and perfect (h/c) hair. She never failed to take his breath away. “(Y/N),” he greeted her with an anxious laugh, mentally kicking himself for being awkward, “Come in,” He smiled, trying to mask the inner turmoil he felt and the dread buried deep inside his stomach at the prospect of (Y/N) still loving her dead husband. (Y/N) smiled back and nodded, “Good afternoon, Zen.” Her voice was smooth and polite as her eyelashes fluttered with natural grace. God, he almost blurted out his love for her then and there.

Zen led her inside, gesturing to the sofa in his living room and helping hang her coat in the closet before going to sit beside her, swallowing his fear. Should he just get right to it? Or should he stall, start talking about something else instead and ease into the subject matter? Surely he couldn’t just start with ‘Hey, I know you’re a widow!’

“I-I’ll make us some tea - or coffee, uh…” Zen stood abruptly, running a hand through his long snowy locks and moving his rat-tail over his shoulder to ground himself from stress. (Y/N) blinked in confusion and narrowed her eyes - what was this about? When he asked her to come over she assumed it was simply because he wanted to meet up and just...chat, but now he was acting strangely and - oh….oh no. Her throat tightened as though it was swelling and she felt dizzy as her gaze followed Zen until he was out of the room. Was he going to...confess? She knew that Zen seemed to have feelings for her, she’d noticed it a while back but never tried to lead him on nor encourage it, hoping his crush would eventually cease to exist. She tried to remind herself that she was likely reading into this too much; perhaps Zen was nervous due to another reason and wasn’t about to proclaim his undying love for her as she feared he might. Instinctively, her hand touched a pendant around her neck, fiddling with it and stroking it as a subconscious attempt to ground herself in reality. Closing her eyes, she remembered the day she received this necklace - it’d been a gift from her husband. She didn’t want to break anyone’s heart but knew that she couldn’t accept anyone’s love right now. It’s not that she didn’t want to ever be in a relationship again - but more so that she just couldn’t. The pain of losing the love of her life broke her and the idea of loving anyone else felt filthy. She was married, and though her vows had been ‘till death do them part’, it felt like the act of utmost betrayal to even consider moving on.

Years had passed, but her feelings hadn’t changed. She loved her husband, loves her husband and always will, and getting involved with anyone wouldn’t be fair to that person, regardless of how much she may care for them; her husband was always going to have half her heart for himself, and no one could ever change that.

Zen returned, holding two cups of steaming coffee and placed them down on the table, sitting back down, clearing his throat. “(Y/N), there’s...there’s actually a reason I called you over,” he admitted, heart palpitating as (Y/N) was mentally and physically leaning on the edge of her seat, “Yes…?” She asked, panic building in her voice, “What is it…?” Zen inhaled and exhaled deeply, before his eyes locked with hers, “I know - uh….” He gulped, “I know you were married once.” At first, his gaze avoided (Y/N); too afraid to see her initial reaction, but his eyes were unable to look away from her for too long. She seemed absolutely baffled, gaping like a fish out of water. “S-Seven drank too much and-” He cringed at the words coming out, regretting throwing his friend under the bus like that, but at the moment he was growing quite frantic. (Y/N) didn’t speak for the first few moments, her head down as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell any of you about my marriage sooner-” “-You don’t have to be sorry!” Embarrassed by his exclamation, he corrected himself and steadied his voice, “I mean; it’s a personal matter. If anyone should apologise it’s me, I know I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this because it’s personal but I just felt it necessary for you to know that I know and-” He cursed himself for his inability to shut up.

Zen wasn’t like this usually, but this wasn’t a usual situation - still, he wished he could just shut his mouth before he dug himself into a deeper hole. “Hyon.” He felt her soft hands on his, comforting him. She looked up at him with glassy eyes and a sorrowful smile, “I-It’s okay. I...I just…” Everything felt overwhelming for them both. A single tear fell from her eye and flowed down her cheek and onto the floor below. Then another, and another until (Y/N) was a sobbing mess, desperately trying to force herself to stop crying as she frantically wiped away at the myriad of droplets escaping her. Not knowing what else to do, Zen pulled her into his arms and stroked her head in a soothing motion, cooing to the weeping woman. “I just miss him so much!” Hearing this pierced his heart with a spear, but he said nothing and continued to hold her and comfort her through this breakdown.

How long has she been bottling this in, without anyone to hold her?

Zen didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it must’ve been at least an hour before the stormy waves calmed into a still ocean. (Y/N) felt emotionally, physically and mentally drained as she pulled away from him, wiping her eyes with her hands and shakily exhaling. “T-Thank you.” she weakly whispered, “I...needed that.” “Of course. I’m...I’m always here for you, okay?” Every word that left his mouth was genuine and honest - even though hearing her speak about her husband made him want to cry himself, he was going to be a good friend to her unconditionally. Especially since she’d been carrying this awful weight around in her soul for so long without anyone knowing. If he could help her to carry that weight by allowing her to rant and mourn, that’s what he was going to do, his feelings be damned.

She spent the rest of that afternoon talking, explaining and describing everything about her past marriage, having several small tearful moments in-between. Zen made sure to be attentive and listened to her to the best of his abilities, being what she needed most; a good friend. At least now he knew that there was no room in her heart for him, and it made him sick to know that he would never have a chance with her, but his own pettiness be damned; (Y/N) was a wonderful woman who deserved happiness and he was going to go to hell and back for her if he could secure it for her.

(Y/N) needed a friend more than she needed a lover, and as much as he desired her romantically, Zen wasn’t about to force himself into her life in a way that would only harm her. He knew he loved her, more than he ever loved anyone before; but she’d already found the love of her life, and though he died, he was irreplaceable. So he was going to keep his feelings a secret for her sake. He could take it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jumin’s Pov “(Y/N), do come in,” Jumin called as he sat behind his desk, wolfish eyes observing her beauty as she entered, looking around curiously. “Hey Jumin” she responded, sitting down on the chair opposite him, crossing her legs with an air of elegance.

She was so perfect. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” “First,” he spoke, handing her a glass of her favourite drink, “I want us to celebrate.” “Celebrate what?” she asked, a puzzled laugh leaving her lips before taking a small sip of her drink, “How’d you know this was my favourite?” Jumin smirked and pulled out a hefty folder, sliding it over to her. “I found out about your previous marriage during the party,” He casually explained, smiling without a trace of empathy for the situation, “So I decided to do some research of my own.” Any reminiscence of a smile faded as she gasped, “W-What?” He hummed in reply, urging her to look through it. “You see, (Y/N).” He clapped his hands and an intern rushed in with an abundant bouquet of (Y/N)’s favourite flowers, “I have romantic feelings for you.” In his eyes, the confession was perfect. He was surely being suave, was he not? He did practice this confession in his mind several times over, after all.

“Dare I say, I’m in love with you. You’ve enchanted me and I must tell you that you’re perfect for me. Elegant and graceful, immensely beautiful, gentle and confident…” He trailed off, cheeks blushing as his tone deepened, “I want to protect you, (Y/N).”

All the while, the (h/c) female was speechless. How could she respond to this? It was insane!

Jumin, however, took her lack of comprehension to be a sign of success and fortune. Clearly she was so amazed that his confession took her very breath away. “I can’t imagine what it’s like - being a widow, without someone to take care of you and keep you safe from the cruelty of the world,” He continued, and (Y/N) internally wished he would just shut up. “Be mine, (Y/N).” Though as he said it, she couldn’t help but feel as if it wasn’t a plea or confession, but a business proposition bordering a demand. Clearly, Jumin was used to getting what he wanted, and it seemed to be no different in this case. “Jumin-” she spoke up quietly, about to explain that she couldn’t accept but he cut her off, “-I know you’re likely overwhelmed,” He leaned forward, elbows supporting him on his desk and smiling at her with a smugness that didn’t suit him, “But you needn’t be worried. I can provide for you, I promise.” He took the file and opened it, glancing through it and showing her his ‘research’ with a sense of pride she couldn’t comprehend; how could he be so...nonchalant about practically stalking her? About investigating her personal, private past?

“Your marriage, I am aware, was a loving one.” (Y/N) sighed, knowing that she was going to have to let Jumin down easy if she could. “You had a good husband…” She was distraught knowing that he went to such great lengths to learn about her past but understood he didn’t know how to control his feelings for her in a healthy way and was willing to let this situation go after explaining it to him. He seemed to at the very least acknowledge the fact she had a fulfilling, happy marriage and loved her husband dearly.

“But I’m going to be better.”

Just as quickly as she was willing to let him down easy and forgive him for doing this, she suddenly felt enraged, clenching her fists under the table as she glared at him with disdain. He said it as if it was a fact; as though he was going to become her next husband for certain. “Excuse me?” Jumin’s smile felt cruel to her, “I know you loved your husband, (Y/N), and I know that you likely believe you’ll never find anyone better but look at me - “ he gestured to himself, and then around at the magnificent office, “I can give you everything you could ever want. Anything, you name it - you’ll get it.” He spoke with the full belief that he could compete with her husband, and in her eyes he was a true madman. “How dare you, Jumin Han?” Pausing, Jumin’s heart dropped in his chest, “What do you mean?” (Y/N)’s gaze made him feel panicked, for it was full of disgust, “Do you honestly believe that I need someone to ‘take care’ of me? To ‘provide’ for me?” She stood up, grabbing the file and holding it tightly to her chest. “This-” she hurriedly stated, “Is personal! Private! This was not something for you to find out for a little extracurricular project because you were bored and have a crush on me!” Oh, She felt as though she was going to be sick right here on the floor of Jumin’s office. “I loved my husband. I love him still, and I always - ALWAYS - will.” Jumin noticed that she was shaking, and stared at her bewildered, “You don’t get to come in here and try and replace him! You can’t do that!” Tears gathered in her eyes as she sniffled, “You don’t understand what it’s like for me. You just...you just decided investigating me would somehow make me fall right into your arms and forget about my husband entirely? God, Jumin! How clueless could you be?” “(Y-Y/N),” he stuttered out, not having expected her to react so negatively to what he had been certain would be a sure mutual love confession.

Wasn’t this what women wanted? Wealth? Security? Safety? Then why was (Y/N) so against this? What was so good about that dead husband of hers, anyway? “He’s dead.” Jumin’s inability to fathom her feelings was insulting to her, here he was trying to assert his beliefs onto her without a trace of empathy towards her or the situation. “He can’t love you anymore, (Y/N). You need to move on. I’m not asking you to love me immediately, just to give me a chance to prove to you I am the better man. Whatever you felt when you were with him, whatever he may have given you - I can do better. I will do better. I can buy you anything, you’ll want for nothing at all-” “Do you honestly believe me to be that vain? To want material things?” (Y/N) scoffed and turned around, ready to leave. “No, Jumin. I don’t love you and after...after this!” she gestured with a free hand to him, herself and the file, “I never could. You won’t ever replace him. No one can, and I don’t appreciate you acting as if you’re the ‘better man’. This is not a competition. And if it was a competition, my husband would win hands down. Goodbye, Mr Han.” With that, she walked out of his office, heels clicking as she stormed out. Jumin’s wide eyes glassed over with tears which he soon blinked away, pouring himself another glass of wine. Maybe Jaehee’s remarks about him becoming a future alcoholic were a little too based in reality. He called Jaehee. “Secretary Kang, please get me some more wine.” Fucking hell, he really messed things up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zen’s POV He couldn’t take it. Zen’s feelings for (Y/N) were tearing him apart, hiding them in the dark was killing him slowly and he could no longer cope with it. He thought he could, but the more he spent time with her, the more his emotions grew. It felt as though wild roses were growing in his lungs, preventing him from breathing. He had to confess before it killed him.

Knocking on the door, Zen waited outside in the hallway until (Y/N) let him into her home. She was still fuming over the situation with Jumin several days prior, but seeing Zen standing outside her door made her momentarily forget all about her frustrations regarding Jumin. “Hyun…” she smiled, “Come in.”

“(Y/N), I….” Zen sighed, shaking his head as he entered, a bouquet of small roses in hand as he handed them to her, “I need you to listen to me, t-this is important.” Since when was he so embarrassed and shy? The effect she had on him was profound. She took the flowers, admiring them as she felt a small beat of her heart, freezing for a moment after, staring at the crimson petals with a fondness she never realised was there before. Blushing, she put them in a vase, “Hyun, is everything okay? Thank you for the roses, though, they’re gorgeous.” Usually, he would’ve made a flirtatious remark about how they weren’t as gorgeous as her, or how she was a rose herself, but this time it was different. The entire situation was different. “I’m in love with you.” She gasped, dropping the vase as it shattered on the ground - Zen believed this to be the universe’s own foreshadowing as to what was about to happen to his heart. “H-Hear me out, please.” She had never heard him plead like this before. It was...strange - and yet, his humility in this situation felt endearing. (Y/N) felt immensely conflicted, heart beating faster than usual, but her devotion for her first husband remaining.

“I love you. You’re...so amazing and supportive and - just...just so…” He scarcely had trouble with the ladies, but (Y/N) wasn’t just anyone. He was in love with her, and this was as genuine as a confession could be; it was clearly straight from the heart. “I’ve...always admired you, but the more I got to know you the more I fell. And I know you’re always going to love your husband, and I don’t...I don’t expect anything from you.” He thickly swallowed, “You’ve gone through a traumatic situation, and...and I would never even begin to expect to replace the love you had for him. I just...I want you to be happy. I want to be here for you, to support you - to be your friend when you need me.” He looked down at the floor, “I just needed to tell you how I felt for my sake. I’m sorry, (Y/N), I...I really do just want you to be happy and I don’t want anything from you; I’m your friend before anything else and-” “Okay.” He paused, looking up at her with confusion, “Wha-” “-Okay. I...I accept your feelings. I’m glad you were honest with me, and I...I like you, Hyun. I really do.” She blushed, smiling at him as she grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “I want to give us a try. It’s...scary for me. I will always care for and love my first husband - nothing will ever change that. But...I’ve been widowed for years now and I suppose it’s time for me to try to move on with my life.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You have been an amazing presence in my life and knowing that you put your heart on the line and still only wish for my happiness is proof that your feelings are sincere, so...I want to give you a chance. I-It’s not going to be easy,” “I’m not expecting it to be. But...I….If you really want to try with me, I promise to be patient. We’ll...move slowly. I’ll never pressure you into anything, I swear.” (Y/N) smiled an honest smile for the first time in a long time, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. “We...we’ll have to take things slow. It’s going to take time for me to get used to this, but...you’ve been nothing but great to me from the start and I really want to try.”

(Y/N) pulled away and stroked his cheek, then pecked it, before taking a deep breath. “How about you take me out on a date?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed reading ❤ Please consider commissioning or supporting me, but don’t worry if you can’t; you can support me through sharing and reblogging my work, commenting, giving feedback and sharing your thoughts on my work to keep me motivated!

Thank you so much for taking the time to read through this. and a special thank you to @lynettethemadscientist for commissioning me with this beauty, it was tremendously fun to write and I enjoyed it very much!

- Mod Ama/Rozalia

85 notes · View notes

tardisinhogsmeade · 4 years

Text

Title: I Have Got You, It's Gonna Be Okay

Chapter 4: How Did You Manage to Piss Off Lupin?

Pairing: Remus x OC

It was finally the last class of the week, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lupin looked slightly tense today. There were dark bags under his eyes. He was rather jumpy. He sat behind his desk and lectured them on non-verbal spells. With half an hour left to the class, he told them to practice among themselves.

Amelia and Derek smirked at each other. They could already do non-verbal spells. Since both of them had turned 17 over the summer, they had been practicing together.

They looked at the other students around them. It was fun to see people muttering incantations under their breaths and catching their unsuspecting opponents off guard.

Amelia cast a glance at Lupin, he was moving among the students correcting them when they made mistakes. She noticed he looked distressed and annoyed today. She had almost always seen him with a light playfulness about him. Maybe, he isn't having a good day, she thought.

She soon realized him not having a good day, was a slight understatement. Somebody had hit him with a silent spell and turned his hair a horrendous blue. Amelia had never seen Lupin fuming with anger. She could even see him mouthing swearwords. She couldn't make out what exactly, but the irritated frown on his face left no doubt to what he was muttering. A couple of students around him were giggling and Lupin snapped at them and docked off 5 points from all of them effectively wiping off their smiles. He walked away muttering the counter curse to turn his hair brown again.

Amelia stared, surprised at the exchange. She thought about how gentle and kind he had seemed at the train. How she had always seen him smiling and chatting with other teachers during meals. She had heard the Weasley Twins had tried to prank him twice during the first week but he had forestalled their pranks and walked away laughing. What was wrong with him today?

Amelia felt Derek nudging her before she heard Lupin’s voice.

“Mr Williams, Why don’t you shoot a hex at Miss Oswald, while she tries to deflect it, non-verbally, of course.” Lupin said from behind her. Amelia turned around and tipped back her head to look at his face. He was standing so close to her, she could smell the coffee on his breath. He had squeezed himself between the desk and Amelia in trying to get to them where they stood near the window of the overcrowded classroom as all the students had shuffled out of their desk and into the aisles between to practice.

Lupin was towering over her, looking down at her. Man, he was tall! Up close, Amelia could see the lines of his face mixed with old scars. He looked exhausted. She could feel a thought forming in the back of her mind, but she felt herself flush as the realization of how close they were standing stuck her. She took a step away from him, but only ended up tripping over her bag that lay against the wall. Lupin’s hand instantly shot out to steady her by firmly holding on to her right upper arm. She flushed deeper murmuring an apology. She could feel Lupin’s hand resting against the fabric of her sleeve. She could feel the warmth from his hand even through her sweater. Was he feverish? Amelia’s eyes widened as realization finally hit her.

Something snapped in Lupin’s face as he saw Amelia gasp. He withdrew his hand sharply as if he had burned himself.

Derek murmured “Are you ready?” before taking up the dueling position in front of her. Amelia turned to face him full on and nodded steadily at her friend. They had practiced this over the summer. Derek gracefully waved his wand to hex her in a fluid motion and she waved hers in return and put up a shield between them. Lupin frowned. "Have you guys done this before?”

Derek chuckled. He had clearly missed the sharp note in Lupin’s voice. “Yeah, we have been practicing non-verbal spells over the break.” Amelia instantly shot him a will-you-shut-up glare. But the damage was done. It didn’t go unnoticed by Lupin.

“Are you aware that you are not allowed to use magic outside of school, particularly potentially dangerous magic like the ones imvolved in dueling?” Lupin said in a stern voice.

Amelia hastily replied, “No, Professor, you misunderstand. We both came of age over the summer. And we were always supervised by our parents when we practiced.”

Lupin pressed his lips together. He walked away without another word.

“What was that about?” Derek said.

“I don’t know. I have never seen him so riled up. He is just so composed usually.” Amelia mused. Thinking about what had just passed between them, Amelia looked around the classroom. She saw Eddie sneakily shooting hexes here and there. people had no idea what was hitting them. She groaned as she saw him turn his head absent mindedly. He caught her looking at him.

"Missing me, darling?" Eddie said in a sing song voice.

"How do you still have the audacity to speak to me, you piece of shit?" Amelia shot at him. They had had a rather nasty break up last year when she had caught him cheating on her with his fellow Slytherin friend.

"Still on our high hippogriff, are we?" Eddie smirked. "Need I remind you about your little Hufflepuff Quidditch pal?"

Arghh. Yes, that had happened too. They both had cheated on each other in the same party. Though Eddie's side fling had been going on for a month at least, Amelia's was a result of an extra shot of firewhiskey and Eddie's mysterious disappearance during her drunken, horny stupour.

Amelia was seething with anger. Once the truth was out in the open, a fierce shout down had followed, but that had been it. She had yet to have her revenge for being kept in the dark for a month. Now seemed as good a time as any. As Amelia steadied herself to shoot a curse at Eddie, she could faintly feel Derek tugging at her sleeve to get her attention. Without thinking, she shot a silent body bind curse at Eddie. Either he hadn't expected her to react this way or he just wasn't quick enough to defend himself, but the moment the curse hit him, he toppled to the floor with a resounding thug.

Lupin rushed over to him and did the counter curse and then stared straight at her. Amelia was taken aback by the anger she saw in his eyes.

“I saw that, Oswald. Detention. Stay back after class.” He shot at her from across the classroom. Lupin seemed enraged.

She turned to look at Derek.

"Don't look at me like that. I tried to warn you that he was watching us. But you were off to youra angry la la land." He shrugged. "Did you at least get it out of your system?"

Amelia smiled. "Kind of. Almost worth pissing off Lupin." She didn't want to say it to Derek or even accept it to herself but being told off by Lupin and having his angry stare directed at her, affected her deeply.

The shuffle of footsteps signaled the end of the class. Clara swallowed.

As the last students emptied the classroom, Clara slowly made her way to Lupin’s desk. Her school bag slung on her left shoulder and her right arm lazily placed in her pocket. She was determinedly looking anywhere but at Lupin. She approached his desk and stopped. He motioned for her to take the chair opposite his desk. She sat down gingerly placing her bag next to her on the floor.

“Do you think it is funny to hex your classmates? Do you think it makes you appear stronger? Is this what you have been practicing over the summer? Let me make something very clear, I will not tolerate bullying in my class. If I ever catch you again, you will be getting more than just a detention, Ms Oswald.” Lupin spat at her. His words laced with venom.

Clara’s embarrassment soon gave way to anger. Who did he think he was, coming in and judging her like that? Is this what he thought of her, a bully? Just because he hadn't been paying attention when Eddie was bullying others, doesn't mean he can put off all the blame on her. She tried to keep the anger out of her voice as she carefully chose her words.

“He started it. He was hexing other students left right and centre. Just because you didn't see him doesn't mean he wasn't doing it. Also, just so you know, It was him who turned your hair blue. Next time you decide to brand somebody a bully, may be get all the facts first.”

Okay. Maybe not the best of words.

"Oh and I suppose that justifies your behavior?" Lupin said in a high voice. He made her response sound childish. "Look, I am not about to have this discussion with you. If you are old enough to practice magic outside school, you are old enough to face the consequences of misusing magic."

Amelia opened her mouth to respond but he raised his hand to silence her.

“I expect to see you in my office tomorrow at sharp 5 pm to serve your detention.” Lupin snarled at her.

“Fine!” She spat at him. She picked her bag and quickly walked out the door shaking with anger.

During dinner that night, Amelia filled in her team members about why they have to change the timings for their Quidditch practice tomorrow.

“But what did you even do? Lupin is like the sweetest person ever. How did you manage to annoy him enough to give you detention?” Harry interjected.

“I am actually offended that it is you Lupin has given detention and not us. He has just been a week here and he already has the reputation of the Buddha. The man just doesn’t seem to get angry.” George said.

Fred continued, “We have been trying to pull pranks on him from the first day. Not only has he seen through and side-stepped each and every prank of ours, but he has done it with such a good humor that we have been having a hard time to get him to raise his voice at his, let alone give us detention over a weekend.”

Amelia was shocked. Has she really been the first student to get detention from the saintly Lupin?

“I don’t know, man. I really didn’t do anything. Eddie had the hex coming to him. It wasn't my fault. Lupin totally overreacted. I think all the pressure and discomfort of the new job he was been keeping bottled up through the week, just exploded in his last class for the week. I think he was tired of being nice to everyone all week, and just lost all his shit at me,” Amelia said. Even as complained, she knew there was more to Lupin's outburst than this.

Derek, who had been oddly silent throughout this discussion, now said pensively, nodding in the general direction of the teachers’ table, “I think, he regrets it. He looks like he has just been told that he has a terminal illness. His plate’s still full.”

Together, they all turned to look at Lupin. And true to Derek’s words he was merely pushing around the food on his still full plate. As if he felt all the eyes looking at him, he looked up from his plate. The group of Gryffindors hastily shifted their eyes away from him, everyone looking anywhere else other than the teacher’s table or each other.

Amelia slowly turned her head back towards the table. From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure getting up from his chair, walking up to Dumbledore and bending down to say something to him. She angled her head for a better view, but still avoiding to look at him directly. She could no longer keep her eyes away when she saw him finally exit the Great Hall from the door behind the teacher’s table. But he hadn’t even eaten anything?

Later that night, Amelia found herself sitting by the window in the Gryffindor common room with her Charms book and essay lying in her lap. She couldn’t get the image of Remus’ dejected face out of her head. Did he get some bad news? Or was this his reaction to realizing how unfair he had been in his treatment of her? She felt some of her anger leave her at the second thought. Surely, it wasn’t such a big deal for him to lose his appetite over? Amelia always got at least one detention a month every year. But Remus didn’t know that. Even if he is sad about having a go at her, that still doesn’t take away the fact that he has ruined her Saturday. Not only has he eaten into her time for Quidditch practice, but now she had to less time in the library to look up the potion for her father. The Full Moon was on Monday and she has been trying to make a potion that would make the pre-transformation days a little less painful for her father. She just can’t bear to see his pale face and sunken, sad eyes everytime the full moon approached. She is just going to have to get up early in the morning tomorrow to sneak into the library and research about a strengthening potion. She can then brew it tomorrow after the detention, let it sit over the night and owl it to her father on Sunday morning. This detention will really cut into a lot of her time. Whether Lupin regretted his actions or not, she was going to give him hell in the detention tomorrow.

#remus lupin #harry potter #remus x oc #remus fanfiction #remus x oc angst #professor lupin x oc #detention #hogwarts

9 notes · View notes

awesometheydontknowiamhere · 4 years

Text

But I Love You (Covert Affairs Fic)

Auggie Anderson X Reader

Summary: The reader has been in love with Auggie since she started working at Langley and is now ready to tell him how she feels. Fate has other plans for her.

Trigger Warning: Heartbreak, Unrequited love, blind character, overall angst

Falling in love with Auggie Anderson was the easiest thing you had ever done. He made the Agency more than a workplace for you. You loved your job, working and turning assets, but it was always good to hear his voice in your ear, providing steady support and witty sarcasm.

You were with the Agency for nearly six months and the back and forth with him during the day, letting loose with drinks after work at Alley’s Tavern and the occasional brunches at his place.

But it was time that you moved forward with him. The only problem was you had no idea how he felt. Auggie was nice to everybody, he made ridiculous jokes with anybody and he was the warmest soul you had ever come across.

Sadly, the only way you could ever found out how he truly felt was by telling him how you felt. Being considerably new at the agency, you didn’t have anyone who could help you come up with a plan or structure to go about this whole thing, so you decided to ram into this head first.

It had to work, right?

The day was finally here. It had been a light work week and hadn’t had to leave the city. You said bye to Joan and Annie, promising that you would come over to play with Annie’s nieces during the next free weekend. You walked over to Auggie’s desk and tried to read him.

“No stilettos today, you break my heart Y/N,” he said as you approached his desk.

“Just mixing it up, Auggie. I wouldn’t want you to be bored,” you said.

He stood up and turned towards you.

“You could never bore me, not in a thousand years,” he said.

You laughed softly, glad that you couldn’t see your face.

“So what are you doing this weekend?”

“Just the usual. What about you?” Auggie asked.

“Just the usual. Enjoy your weekend,” you said. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, catching a whiff of his cologne. You smiled and stepped back, not wanting to linger.

You woke up with a purpose in the morning and by breakfast, you had already talked yourself out of it twice. By the time you locked the front door you promised yourself that no matter what, you would at least try.

No, you wouldn’t show up on his doorstep at 12 in the afternoon, professing your undying love or him. You would go up to his house, hang out for a bit and then ask him to dinner, a proper one.

You pulled up to his apartment and started climbing up the stairs.

You softly padded up, coming to an abrupt halt at the sound of laughter. It seemed to come from Auggie’s floor. You creeped up against the wall, trying to get a better visual.

The scene in front of you unfolded in slow-motion, like a cheap horror movie.

Right in front of your eyes, Auggie was entwined with the infamous Liza Hearn. His face was buried in the crook of her neck and her hands were wrapped around him.

You turned away from the scene, it was too much for you, like looking directly at the Sun on a hot summer day.

It was suddenly a bit too hot, your clothes were stifling you. You took a deep breath and looked again, registering things that you had missed the first time. Auggie’s bare, muscular chest was flushed against her clothed chest. They were still near the door, so Liza must be on her way out. She moved from his lips to his ears and bit it, whispering something that made him laugh. He responded by placing his hand on her butt at that moment you decided that you had seen too much.

Your nausea wasn’t going to go away anytime soon but you had to leave, lest Liza took the stairs.

You didn’t remember the ride home or getting changed into the ugliest yet the most comfortable sweats you owned.

You did remember the crying afterwards, the long chest-pain inducing crying sessions, probably the worst you had had in your adult life.

You had been so stupid, thinking Auggie would be into you. He was blind, he wasn’t an idiot. He must have felt the heat between him and Liza. There was no point to any of it now. The only saving grace was that you had found out about it before you had told him how you felt about him, saving yourself from a disaster of epic proportions.

You knew you couldn’t be hung up on this forever, you had work the next day and you were bound to run into him or be involved in a mission with him.

Monday rolled around quicker than you had anticipated, the time flew when you were an emotional wreck. You wore a pair of new boots, the ones, Auggie had never heard before and switched out your regular perfume for some rarely used concoction which you never used because you hated its smell.

You showed up at work praying for an out of city/country mission, but Joan wanted you in the office, doing some ground work.

Just your luck.

A young intern was taking coffee orders, and for the first time in six months, you drank yours alone and didn’t take Auggie his. But coffee was the easy battle, avoiding him during lunch would be a whole different ballgame.

The day passed with the internal battle going on in your head. You were heartbroken, but you weren’t cruel. It would be absolutely hurtful to ditch Auggie during lunch, now that both of you had a routine of eating together and you helping him whenever need be. He didn’t need it, but you loved making Buddha bowls for him so that he could eat easier, or fed him the occasional bite when his fingers were buy reading a file.

You got up from the desk and walked towards his, you were just about to knock when you heard conversation from inside.

“Liza, of course I’ll have lunch with you. Pick me up in five minutes. Bye, love you.”

And that’s all that you needed to hear.

#covert affairs #auggie anderson #covert affairs fanfiction #auggie anderson x reader #unrequited love #auggie anderson x liza hern #annie walker #walkerson #auggie anderson x you #joan campbell

23 notes · View notes

afeb · 5 years

Text

Chris Evans - Morning

Scratchy kisses, that’s what I woke up to. Kisses trailing over my cheek and slowly moving down my neck. Then, unexpectedly, a heavy kiss landing on my lips. I groaned and moved my face away, shifting onto my stomach and nuzzling my face into my pillow. The kisses carried on over my exposed shoulders and back, the duvet slowly slipped down. I groaned again and tugged the thick material up to cover myself, goosebumps littering me as the cool air hit my exposed skin.

I heard a low chuckle before a deep voice. “C’mon baby, time to get up.”

I shook my head. “Five more minutes.” I bargained as I once again nuzzled into my comfy confines.

Chris laughed again. “Nope, I gave you five minutes, twenty minutes ago.” I huffed. “You don’t even remember me waking you up twenty minutes ago, do you?”

I didn’t respond as I slowly began to slip back into sleep, however Chris had other plans. He pulled back to duvet quickly, letting the cool air hit my naked body hard. I squeaked and then hummed in dissatisfaction, flopping my hand around me in an attempt to find the covers.

“According to the Buddha, everything is suffering and logically speaking if one is asleep they won’t know their suffering,” I grodgily said. “So let me sleep.”

Chris hummed in my ear, biting down on the lobe. “You aren’t using Buddhism to get out of this one.” He whispered.

I moaned and propped myself up my elbows. “Worth a try.” I said as I ran my hand through my unruly, curly hair. “What time is it?”

Chris looked at the clock on his wall. “Half nine, my brother is expecting us ‘round his for half eleven.” Chris slapped my backside. “Come on, shower, eat, get dressed, then go!”

“Make me a coffee please!” I called as he walked out the room.

“On it!” He called back.

I sat up in bed, stretching my tense muscles before looking around the room. Chris had obviously tidied up this morning, everything neatly back in its place after I turned the whole house upside down after searching desperately for my other converse.

I yawned and hopped out of bed, rubbing the sleep out my eyes as I walked into the bathroom. I cringed at my appearance in the mirror and pulled my hair into a low bun and quickly brushed my teeth. At that moment I became desperate for a wee and quickly situated myself on the loo.

“Where are you?” Chris called from the bedroom.

“Loo!” I called back as Chris walked into the bathroom. Any other couple would be embarrassed to see their partner in the middle of a wee, but Chris and I were so comfortable with each other it hardly mattered. “Thank you.” I sang as I took my coffe from him, sipping it and then grimacing.

“Not taste good?” Chris asked.

“Just brushed my teeth.” He nodded in understanding. “Did I need to bring anything to Scotts’?”

Chris shook his head. “Mom’s got desert sorted and Scott said he was doing a BBQ.”

I hummed. “Good, because I don’t have enough time to make anything.” I stood and flushed the toilet and washed my hands. “I’ll get some beer on the way, what’s the weather like today?”

Chris stayed silent as he pulled me close, pecking my lips. “Morning.”

I giggled. “Morning.”

Chris followed me as I walked back into the bedroom, seeing he’d made the bed already. “Hot.” He shortly replied.

“Dress it is then.” I hummed to myself as I walked into the large wardrobe and went to my side of the room. After flicking through many dresses I decided on a strappy black and white polka-dot dress, and my white high top Converse-All-Stars.

Chris was no where to be seen as I went into the bedroom to get dressed. After clothing myself I went back into the bathroom and applied minimal make up and made my low bun a little more neat. I looked at myself again and decided for a hot day I looked decent, after all I was only around family today.

I skipped downstairs, shoes clutched in my hand as I hummed a tune that had been stuck in my head for a few days now. I wandered into the kitchen, dumping my shoes in the doorway. I cursed as I realised I’d left my coffee upstairs.

“Chris!” I called as I walked into the hallway. I smiled as Dodger came up to me to say good morning, licking my hand as I scratched under his chin.

“Office!” I heard Chris call back, I quickly walked into his large office, smiling as I saw him. His feet were propped up on the desk, his chair declined as he read over a new manuscript he’d been given last week. “What can I do you for?” He hummed.

“Can you get my coffee from upstairs and I’ll make breakfast?” I sweetly asked. He paylfully rolled his eyes and stood, walking towards me and wedging his body with mine in the doorway.

“I want pancakes.” He requested as he pecked my lips a number of times. “With blueberry syrup.”

I nodded. “Can you get my rings? And my necklace, the one with the bee?” I asked.

He nodded and walked up the stairs, Dodger patiently waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. I walked back into the kitchen and set to work on making Chris’ breakfast, tying an apron around my waist to save my dress from my messy cooking.

I’d measured out the flour as Chris walked in, dropping my jewellery on the island, along with my coffee. “Couldn’t find your necklace.” He hummed as he came up behind me, wrapping his arms securely around my middle.

I hummed. “Maybe I left it in the car.” I thought aloud, watching the mixer whiz my ingredients together.

“Maybe.” Chris replied, kissing my exposed shoulder before moving back to the island to sit at the breakfast bar.

Conversation rolled easily along as I cooked his breakfast, simple things such as asking about my arch nemesis at work, Debbie, moving quickly to what time we needed to be back tonight to watch the Canadian F1 race.

I placed the stack of pancakes in front of Chris and a jug of blueberry syrup beside it. “Breakfast is served.” I kissed his cheek as I placed a knife and fork in front of him.

“Thank you.” He hummed before drizzling the syrup over the thick pancakes.

I placed some bread in the toaster and began to crush some avocado to put on top. I sat beside him as we ate, keeping an eye on the time. After much debate over who would drive I finally won and dug through Chris’ coat pocket for the keys. After putting Dodger in the car we were off, Chris pulling out it his phone to call Scott.

“Hi, we’re on our way over.” Chris spoke as I started the car. “What? Oh, Y/N’s gonna kill me.” They said goodbye and hung up.

I turned to look at him. “And why am I going to kill you?” I asked.

“Because the BBQ is tomorrow.” Chris winced.

“Chris.” I whined. “You woke me up at nine-thirty.” I stated.

“Mid-day margaritas to make up for it?” He smiled.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re lucky I love mid-day margaritas so much.”

#chris #evans #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #captain america #steve rogers #marvel

518 notes · View notes

itsmyusualphannie · 5 years

Text

an elemental match

Title: an elemental match (ao3) Author: itsmyusualphannie Artist: fay-pepper - check out her amazing art here!! it’s so good. like how. <33 Beta: m0xicity - thank you sm for your help! Word Count: 8.5k Rating: T Warnings: Blood, broken bones, earthquake Summary: “one moment can change a day, one day can change a life, and one life can change the world” - not buddha dan and phil, who like everyone else in their world have some level of superhuman powers, are out and about when tragedy strikes. they have powers, though. they can fix this, right? right. (right?)

Author Notes: i’ve been wanting to do a powered-dnp (not superheroes) for a while now, so this was super fun to write! it went a tad darker than i intended, but don’t worry, it has a happy ending! (sort of?)

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick. Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

“Nope!” The chair’s legs screeched against the floor under Phil as he slid back from the desk. He rolled his shoulders and stood, shoving the chair back into its place. His open laptop on the desk was brightly lit, cheerfully mocking him. He frowned at it. “No. I’m done.”

The clock tick-tocked again from where it hung a few feet above the desk. Phil wondered why he had even gotten it. He turned and left the room.

He found Dan in the living room, prone on the floor with his face upturned toward the ceiling. His eyes were closed, mouth opened slightly as he breathed steadily. Phil stood over him and nudged him with a socked foot. “Hey, Dan.”

“Shh, fuck off,” said Dan without opening his eyes. “I’m...meditating.”

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Meditating,” Dan insisted.

Phil poked him in the side again. “You said you wanted to look at the video once I finished editing it.”

“Ugh. You suck,” but Dan had opened his eyes and he was heaving himself up now. His fingers dug into the rug as he gained his balance, and then he stumbled to his feet, grabbing Phil’s arm for balance. “Whoo,” he said. “That’s fun.”

“Don’t pass out,” Phil told him. He reached to nudge a curl that had fallen across Dan’s forehead.

Dan let him. “So you’re finished editing, then? I thought it’d take you longer.”

“The clock was driving me insane,” Phil admitted. He tucked the curl back to rejoin the tumbled mess on Dan’s head. The bare skin it revealed felt too intimately naked, so Phil replaced the curl with a quick kiss. Dan laughed when Phil’s lips pressed against his forehead. “Dork.”

Phil shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. “I’m romantic. Shut up.”

“Sure you are,” Dan agreed, too quickly. He headed toward the office. “Come on, I’ll look over your video.”

Phil let Dan go ahead of him while he detoured to the kitchen. Although they had eaten lunch a few hours ago, he felt like a snack was necessary right about now. He opened the first two cabinets and, finding nothing good, left them wide open as he wandered to the next cabinet. Finally, he found a pack of Haribo that had been shoved to the very top of the self just out of reach of his fingers.

“Phil!” Dan called from the other room. “You’d better not be getting something to eat. We’re going shopping as soon as I’m finished with this.”

Phil glanced up at the bag of sweets, then toward the office. Making up his mind, he turned back toward the cabinet. He stretched his hand up to the high shelf and flexed his fingers, wiggling them a little in a come-hither motion. The bag, untouched by his physical fingers, nevertheless heeded the mental call. It shifted on the shelf, and then, in an abrupt movement, threw itself off the shelf into Phil’s waiting hand. Phil hurriedly ripped it open and dumped a handful of the gummies into his other hand, then held the bag in his palm and lifted it back toward the shelf. The bag floated off his hand and back into place, adjusting itself between two other containers.

Phil abandoned the kitchen, leaving the cabinets open as he popped a few gummies in his mouth. “Nope, not eating anything!” he assured Dan. He pushed open the door to the office and crossed the room in a few strides, stopping behind Dan, who was seated at the desk chair in front of Phil’s laptop.

Dan didn’t look back at him, but his voice was amused. “You know I can literally feel that you’re lying to me.”

Phil shoved the rest of the gummies in his mouth, hastily chewing them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said around his mouthful. He glanced over Dan’s shoulder at the video that was playing on the laptop. “Any suggestions so far?”

“I’m only two minutes into it,” but Dan paused the video. “Actually, yeah, here. This transition is a little weird. I’d cut it a second or so sooner.”

Phil watched as Dan rewound the clip. The Phil on-screen was laughing as a handful of glitter floated around his head like a halo. Dan, with a few swift clicks, deleted an awkward segment that Phil had missed in his editing earlier. He pressed play again, and now the video showed a smooth flow between the moment Phil had been easily controlling the thousands of particles of glitter and the instant he had released his power over them and they had all cascaded over his head. Since Phil had filmed all of this in one take, he’d had to be careful with the use of his powers, not eager for a headache. If he overused them, one of his dreaded migraines would creep up on him, and not even Dan’s empathic powers could help him. In this case, though, the abrupt release of the objects he was controlling hadn’t been intentional - he had heard a dog barking outside, and naturally, had lost his concentration.

Rubbing at his hair in memory, Phil grimaced. “That was two days ago and I still have glitter in my hair.”

“Please don’t remind me,” said Dan, his gaze still affixed to the screen as the video continued. “I have glitter in my pants.”

He laughed. “Well, you didn’t have to let me - ”

“Nope. No. We’re stopping that line of conversation.”

Still chuckling a little, Phil didn’t finish his sentence. He kept watching as Dan finished the video, making a few more small adjustments that Phil hadn’t caught. He was pleased with the small reactions he got from Dan’s perusal, the involuntarily laughs and moments of surprise. This was one of his favourite parts of the video-making process.

The video was barely ten minutes long, but Dan took his time looking it over and it was a good half an hour later when Dan saved the file for the final time and sat back in the chair. “It’s good,” was all he said.

“Good?” Phil huffed a laugh. “Is that all?”

Dan stood up in an elegant movement, spinning and draping his arms over Phil’s shoulders. “It’s fantastic. It’s creative. The bit with the glass dildo-looking thing was a bit much, but I love it. So will everyone else.” He punctuated his input with a lingering kiss.

Phil hummed against Dan’s lips, letting his hands drift to loosely hold Dan’s waist. “Mmm, okay. Good. Thanks.”

Dan pulled back and cast him an unimpressed stare. “You taste like Haribo.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Phil blinked widely.

Dan scoffed but gave him another quick kiss. “Twat. Come on, we need to go shopping.” He pulled back from Phil’s grip and left the room. Phil grabbed his phone from the charger on the desk before he followed, checking to make sure that it was fully charged.

“Are we just going to Tesco?” Phil asked after Dan, swiping at his phone as he wandered into the living room.

“Unless you want to go somewhere else!” Dan yelled back. He had detoured to the bedroom, apparently.

Phil pulled down the notification bar on his phone and frowned at the bright news alert that was visible. He clicked on it and was directed to a BBC One news article. “Uh...maybe Starbucks!” he called absent-mindedly. “After we’re...done shopping…” He trailed off without noticing it, his finger tugging up the article page so he could quickly skim it. There had been another tremor on the east side of London. Specialists were considering it minor, as it was under a 4.0 on the Richter scale and was barely noticeable. Still, it was one of several that had happened over the past few months, and the tremors were never located in the same place.

“Weird,” Phil mused to himself. He jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder.

“What’s weird?” asked Dan, peering over his shoulder. He sounded breathless, tugging down the bottom of the shirt that he had apparently just changed into. His hair was mussed, but artfully so. He must have gone by the bathroom for a moment.

Phil showed him the screen. “Another tiny earthquake.”

“Huh.” Dan thoughtfully regarded the article for a moment, then turned away to grab his shoes from the rack by the door. “There’s been a few of those, haven’t there?”

Phil closed the article and set his phone down on the table in the hall beside him, joining Dan to slip on his own shoes. “Yeah, it’s a little odd.”

“I dunno,” said Dan. He tied his shoelaces and stood, glancing around. Clearly spying what he was looking for, he trotted across the room to grab his phone from the coffee table. “It could just be nature. Y’know, the world is ending and whatever. I wouldn’t be surprised. It could also just be some kid coming into their powers and still figuring out what’s going on.”

Considering that, Phil admitted to himself that it made sense. Every child on Earth was born with some power lying dormant in their genes, which usually revealed itself at puberty or during some traumatic stressor in their life. Few were truly powerful; most were just tiny, usually-ineffectual powers like an abnormally strong bladder, tasting by touch, changing colours of fabrics, and being able to moisten objects by touching them. Most people had versions of their parents’ powers that were easily recognized once they manifested.

Phil’s own power had been a sort of combination of his parents - his mum could manipulate bursts of wind and his dad could make anything float as long as he had touched it in the past few hours and was able to physically lift it. Phil’s power might have been on the higher spectrum of abilities since he could manipulate many objects at once such as thousands of glitter particles, but since he couldn’t do it for very long, he wasn’t considered particularly powerful.

“That could be it, I guess,” Phil acknowledged, “but if so, it’s odd that they wouldn’t have been identified yet and taught to control it.” Since most powers were so various and weak enough that they couldn’t affect anyone’s surroundings much, there wasn’t any specialized public education for them, but in the case of stronger manifestations, there were private schools to help individuals control them.

Dan just shrugged, fishing the keys from the bowl on the coffee table. “It’ll be fine. Unless it’s nature, then we’ll probably all die.”

“Dan,” Phil scolded.

“Global warming,” He said darkly. “It’s going to kill us all.”

Phil shoved him toward the door, laughing despite himself. “Stop it!”

Unlocking the door, Dan ducked outside, chuckling. “Oh, you know I’m right. The icecaps are melting and the penguins are - ”

“If you say one more time that all of the penguins are dying out, I’m going to revolt,” He threatened, snatching the keys from Dan’s hand and locking the door resentfully.

“I can feel that you think I’m funny,” Dan laughed at him.

Phil waved a finger at him. “Stop reading my emotions when I’m pretending to be upset. You could just...you could single-handedly save the penguins, is what you could do.”

He scoffed and held up one hand in demonstration. “This thing? I touch things with it to cool them off. I can’t refreeze the entirety of the polar ice caps. That’d be nice, though.”

“What would be nice,” Phil shot back, hesitating only briefly, “is your mum.”

Dan shoved him this time, huffing a laugh. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up.” His hands were cold against Phil’s shoulder even through his shirt, a clear demonstration of Dan’s secondary power.

That - his hands - was what automatically placed Dan in the top 1% of humans with powers. Neither of Dan’s abilities was remarkably strong - his empathy power and his ability to chill his hands to the freezing point of 0° celsius - but having a second power at all was incredibly rare. Like Phil, however, overusing either of his powers resulted in a negative drawback. Dan’s was mind-numbing exhaustion.

Dan’s secondary power also gave them an...interesting bedroom life. Before he met Dan, Phil would never have thought he’d have any sort of wild kinks. Now, though…

Dan poked Phil in the cheek with his cold finger. “Oi,” he said. “Stop thinking about sex.”

“I’m not!” Phil protested. “Besides, you can’t read my thoughts.”

“I can sense your sex emotions,” Dan said, unimpressed. “We need to get groceries, and if you start imagining us in bed before we even leave the building then we’re not going to get anything done.”

Phil cast him a haughty stare. “That’s just proof of your lack of self-control.”

“We’re leaving,” Dan declared.

“Coward,” Phil retorted, but followed him toward the stairs without further argument. They trundled down to the ground floor and made their way out onto the street. It only took a moment to hail down a cab, and then they were on their way to Tesco.

“Did you get the list from the fridge?” Phil asked a few minutes later, a belated question since the cab was already pulling over to let them hop out at Tesco. It was, after all, a little late to go back and fetch the list.

He looked exasperated as he shut the door behind him. “No, Phil, I told you to get it.”

“What? When?”

“When I was changing!”

Phil considered that. “Oh. Huh. I didn’t hear you.”

Dan rolled his eyes, but it was more fond than annoyed. “I knew you would.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as they walked inside Tesco. “I took a picture of it last night just in case.”

“Oh, good. We need cereal too, since I added that to the list this morning. For...no reason. I just decided that we need more...to add to what we already have.” He grabbed a trolley and pushed it ahead of them while they headed for the far side of the store.

“Sure you did,” said Dan, clearly not believing him. “And it’s definitely not because you ate the rest of it during a two a.m. snack spree.”

Phil nodded. “No, definitely not,” he agreed innocently. He swerved the trolley into the bread aisle. They didn’t actually need any bread, since they still had half a loaf, but Phil didn’t think they would go shopping for another few weeks so it wouldn’t hurt to stock up.

“Do we have any tortillas?” Dan asked, trailing beside Phil as he swiped at his phone. “It’s not on the list, but I wanted to make fajitas tomorrow night.”

“I don’t think so,” Phil replied after a moment of thought. “I don’t remember using them all up, but I haven’t seen any.”

Dan leaned to grab a loaf of bread and toss it in the trolley as they walked. “Oh, didn’t we have those wraps last Saturday when PJ and Sophie visited?”

“Oh yeah, we did.” Their friends had come over right before lunchtime, so Dan and Phil had offered them the easiest food they could make quickly. Phil recalled the tea that had cooled as they chatted, and PJ briefly using his ability to warm liquids and reheating it with a wave of his hand. “And we ate the rest of the biscuits, add those to the list, too.”

Dan complied, tapping away at his phone. The rest of the shopping trip commenced this way, wandering down aisles searching for items on the list and occasionally getting distracted by things that weren’t. Phil had to convince Dan that he did not need four of the exact same candle since one would serve the same purpose, while Dan was very firm about not getting a massive chocolate bunny.

“But we need it,” Phil had insisted.

“Philip Lester. No. You’ll get high on the sugar.”

And that was that. They were leaving Tesco only an hour after having entered it, arms laden with bags.

“I have realized our mistake,” said Phil as they stood on the pavement outside Tesco, waiting for the Uber that Dan had called.

“What?”

“Well, I wanted to get coffee. But now we have to take these groceries back or the refrigerated stuff will go bad.”

Dan shrugged, glancing at the phone balanced in one hand to check for the status of their ride. “We can go back out. We need more exercise anyway, we’ll just walk to the one a few blocks from our flat.”

“I guess,” he agreed reluctantly. Dan was definitely more into the exercise than Phil was - they had already both gone jogging this morning and Phil was perfectly happy with that level of effort for the day. Coffee would be worth it, though. He was jolted from his thoughts of exercise and coffee by a bag that was starting to slip down his arm. “No,” he told it, eyeing it suspiciously. It didn’t listen, the weight of the bananas inside dragging it further and leaving faint red lines on his arm. He loosened his grip on the bag in his other hand and wiggled his middle and index fingers at the bag. It obediently slid back up his arm, ignoring gravity to settle in the crook of his elbow.

A car up in front of the pavement and Dan waved briefly at the driver. “Uber’s here,” he told Phil, already heading for the trunk of the car. The driver hopped out and helped them load their groceries into the back of the vehicle, putting the most fragile items into the safety net. Once they had everything arranged, Dan and Phil climbed into the backseat and they were off back to their flat.

~~~

“Straw?” Phil asked hopefully, but the barista had already turned away, harried and rushed with the line of customers out the door. Phil looked down mournfully at his drink. The straws by the door were gone and Dan was already tucked into their usual table in the corner, sipping at his macchiato as he swiped through his phone.

Excuse me, Phil heard from a woman slipping past him to escape the Starbucks. He only had time to notice her arms piled with coffee and a bag of chips clenched in her teeth before she was gone. She must have mentally projected the words at him using her power, he supposed. Taking a step back as another customer navigated through the line in front of him, he craned his neck to see if there were any straws left in the container behind the counter. There were some left, in a half-full box of straws tucked beside the syrups. A barista snatched one and handed it, along with a drink, to a customer, then immediately went back to making drinks. Phil squinted, making sure he was focusing on just one straw - he didn’t want another incident to occur - and then casually, unobtrusively stretched his fingers toward them. Nothing happened for a moment, and then a straw wiggled in place. It squirmed free from the confines of the other paper wrappers surrounding it, then leapt high in the air, above the customers’ heads. Phil released his control over it, then hurriedly snatched it before it plummeted to the floor.

Pleased, he unwrapped it and shoved it in the lid of his drink as he made his way to the corner, where Dan was still on his phone.

“I can’t believe yours was done first,” he said, sliding into the chair across from Dan. “And then you abandoned me.”

“I can believe it,” said Dan, not looking up. He sipped at his own boring-looking drink. “I got something normal, and you got that...monstrosity.”

Phil glanced down at it. It was pink and glittery and ...definitely different. “I had to try it,” he protested. “Look, it’s delicious.” To demonstrate, he slurped deeply from the straw. He could feel his face collapse into disgust as soon as the first sugary drop hit his tongue. “Um.”

Dan laughed, finally glancing up, probably to take a mental picture of Phil’s expression. “It’s a good thing everyone here isn’t an empath, or that raving recommendation would turn them all away.”

“It’s...unique,” Phil insisted. He took another sip and resisted the grimace that wanted to live on his face.

Dan set down his macchiato and sighed, reaching out for the drink. Phil handed it to him unhesitantly. Taking a brief sip of the drink, Dan winced and shook his head. “Sometimes, Phil, you don’t need to try new things.”

Phil stole Dan’s drink to wash the taste from his mouth. “Well...now I know not to get it. Besides, it’s limited.”

“Float it over to the trash bin,” he instructed, shoving the colourful drink back to Phil and taking his own back. “Limited doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Rebelliously, Phil drank from it again. “I’m not going to waste it.” He set it down after a few moments when the icy cup became a little too much for his hands. Dan was having no trouble with his own iced macchiato clasped unflinchingly in his free hand - but then, he wouldn’t, with hands that were unaffected by the cold.

It was unfair, Phil decided, that Dan could consistently keep his drinks cooled to the perfect temperature. To retaliate, he stole his drink again.

“You’re going to buy me another one,” Dan threatened mildly. He was on his phone again, though, and Phil didn’t feel particularly intimidated.

“Who’re you texting?” he asked around the straw in his mouth.

“Cornelia. I was asking her about a new merch idea.”

“Ooh, the gloves one?” Phil thought that one would sell brilliantly. Dan’s secondary power was the one most prominently used on his channel - in fact, only diehard fans even knew about Dan’s primary empathic power. It just wasn’t something that could be visibly touted in his videos. As a consequence of that, while both Dan and Phil had sold merch themed around their abilities, Phil had a logo shaped like a burst of wind that was stamped on some products while Dan’s was an icicle, only marketed toward his secondary power. One of Dan’s most recent items - a foam cup holder that chilled drinks while keeping hands warm - had sold out in the first week.

“Yeah, she likes it, but she thinks they need to be a different type of fabric.” Dan frowned at his phone and typed out a message that was disturbingly fast for only one hand. “As if leather isn’t practical.”

Phil laughed. “Dan, just because your hands never sweat doesn’t mean everyone else don’t.”

“I mean, I was joking about the leather, but I don’t want them to be solid wool. That’s just as hot, right?”

Shrugging, Phil took another long sip from Dan’s drink. “I don’t know anything about fabrics.” He glanced down at the cup, noting the liquid dipping below the melting ice. He probably would have to get Dan some more.

“What kind of useless gay are you?” asked Dan half-heartedly. He sighed and set down his phone. “I don’t feel like figuring out merch shit right now.”

“Tired?” Phil regarded him, a little concern niggling at him. Dan didn’t look exhausted, particularly, but if he had been overusing his powers, it might be weighing on him.

Dan waved a dismissive hand. “No, I just...don’t want to deal with it. It’s really busy here, too. It’s a little distracting.”

Sometimes Phil forgot that Dan couldn’t particularly turn off his empathetic ability. He could narrow his focus onto one person to read every aspect of their feelings, or even project his own emotions, but unlike Phil, it wasn’t something he had to consciously activate to use. Phil remembered Dan once describing it as “street noise, like cars driving past outside. You’re not always paying attention to them, but you know they’re there. And when an angry or upset person is near, it’s like an ambulance going past with its sirens on.”

“Any sirens?” asked Phil. They used the analogy often, an easy way for Phil to gauge what Dan was feeling from the people around them.

Dan shook his head. “Maybe in the distance. It’s just...heavy traffic.”

There were quite a few people packed into this small Starbucks. Phil pushed the macchiato back toward Dan. “Here, have a drink. And chill it again? The ice is melting a little.”

“You’re so generous.” Dan’s lips twisted wryly, knowing. He could feel Phil’s attempt to distract him from their surroundings. “It wouldn’t be melting if you hadn’t stolen it.” His hands had already gripped the cup, and Phil watched, unendingly fascinated with the way condensation spread in tiny frozen crystals as Dan’s long fingers wrapped around the plastic. Phil sometimes wondered what would happen if he had gotten a secondary power along with his telekinetic abilities. He doubted the results of any other power would look as elegant as Dan’s.

“Are you going to finish yours?” Dan asked, raising an eyebrow at the drink Phil had forgotten existed. It was still sitting abandoned, pink and bright and eye-searing, by the puddle of melted water that Dan’s cup had left.

Phil took a stubborn sip from it, refusing to let himself react to the explosion of bitter-sweet that soured his mouth. His eyebrow twitched defiantly. “Yes. I spent almost four pounds on it.”

“Sometimes, we just have to acknowledge that an experience wasn’t what we wanted it to be, and chalk it up as a lesson learned. Sometimes, we just have to move on from our mistakes.”

Phil glowered at him and his wisdom. “I hate you.”

“You hate that drink more, though. Are you really going to continue to suffer just to prove some sort of asinine point?”

“I could,” Phil said mutinously. He tried to take another insistent drink, but his mouth refused to cooperate. The straw tap-tapped vainly a few times against his lips before he gave up. “Ugh, fine. Shut up,” he added before Dan, his mouth parted in a wide, silent laugh, could say anything. He glanced around for a trash bin, ready to push his failure of a drink through the air and dispose of it.

“Come on, let’s head back to the flat,” Dan interjected. “You can throw it away on the way out the door.”

Phil dubiously eyed the crowded line of coffee-impatient customers stretching out the door and down the sidewalk. “It’s too bad neither of us can teleport.”

“That would be convenient,” Dan agreed, standing and fetching his phone and halfway-finished macchiato. “Do you know how many awkward situations I would have just abandoned?”

“Who needs to converse when you can reverse?” Phil added, then frowned. “Wait, that’d be a time power wouldn’t it?”

Dan laughed. “Yeah, like that kid I told you I knew in primary who could like rewind twenty seconds of time? Everyone knew when he did it, though - he got uncontrollable hiccups for like an hour after.”

Phil didn’t like getting a headache if he overused his powers, but he couldn’t imagine it happening every time he used them. “Poor kid.”

Dan made his way determinedly for the door of Starbucks, going just slow enough for Phil to navigate past two teenagers and catch up. “Well, you know, the more powerful the ability, the stronger the body’s backlash. I think it’s a good thing, so we don’t have time-warping and mind-destroying supervillains trying to take over the world.”

“It sounds so ominous when you say it like that,” Phil squeezed behind a rotund woman happily chattering away on her phone and found the bin just beside the door. It was almost full, but he dropped the drink in anyway. He mournfully watched it fall into the rest of the rubbish and thunk heavily against an empty cup, taking a moment to wish it had been a better drink.

Dan had already ducked outside. He tapped the window, raising an amused eyebrow at Phil’s inability to keep up with him. Come on, he mouthed.

Phil shrugged helplessly back at him. He had to grieve for such a beautiful monstrosity - it was only right. The sugar deserved to be missed. Dan just rolled his eyes at him.

Fine, Phil mouthed back. He waited a moment for a gap in the line of customers, and then he edged his way between them. He had just reached the door, swinging shut as someone stepped inside, when he felt it. It was just a tiny shudder at first, and Phil thought maybe someone had nudged against him, but then the floor trembled beneath his feet.

It took a few seconds for everyone around him to become aware of the ground’s awakening, but a more violent palpitation caused a visible disturbance and the conversation in the Starbucks abruptly ceased, a loud silence falling among the inhabitants. Phil became aware that someone was gripping his arm, their nervousness allowing them to abandon civility and grasp onto the nearest stationary object. He could see the display case to his left quivering minutely and an abandoned cup atop it wavering, undecided whether to topple to the floor. The floor juddered again, and Phil felt his knees knock against each other in an attempt to keep him standing. The cup fell.

A hesitant scream breached the silence of the room, testing if it was the right reaction. It trailed away after only a moment, and now Phil could hear a low rumble somewhere deep beneath the ground.

Then the panic started; It wholly infected the group within seconds, and there was an instant rush for the door as dozens of people simultaneously decided that getting outside was their best option. Phil’s ears rang with screams, but since he had been directly in front of the door, he was immediately shoved out of the door and onto the pavement before he could even attempt to react. He staggered as his feet hit the concrete, almost losing his balance, but regained his equilibrium and forced rapid steps away from the pushing, sudden mass of bodies exiting the store. The ground still rumbled warningly beneath him, threatening worse. He could feel the intensity of the tremors increasing. The sign on the pavement that proclaimed the coffee and pastry of the day bounced a few feet and then, with a heave of the concrete beneath it, toppled sideways and was immediately trampled by urgent feet.

Dan. Stricken by the thought, and that his brain had abandoned it until now, Phil backed into the side of the store to get away from the stream of people and stood on the tips of his toes to look around. The brick dug into his back, rippling uncertainly, but he ignored the movements to scan the crowd. He and Dan were both taller than most of these people, but he couldn’t see Dan’s familiar curls or sloped shoulders anywhere.

“Dan!” Phil called, but it was drowned by the yells and screams of others around him. Someone bellowed “Earthquake!” but everyone already knew, and everyone was already running, as if there was any way they could escape the earth’s rebellious upheavals.

He attempted a step away from the wall, but an angry roll of the earth split the pavement in front of him and he moved back hastily, his shoulders thudding painfully back onto the brick. Feet juddering for balance beneath him, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the crack in the pavement. It seemed surreal, the casual rip through the concrete as if it was paper. Phil’s thoughts grasped desperately at his memory of that very morning - the article, the one with the earthquakes. The possibility that it would happen here seemed so infinitesimally low, but here it was.

Call 999. The idea came to him so suddenly that he realized it wasn’t his own - the woman who had pushed past him only a few minutes ago must have still been in the area and was projecting her thoughts to everyone in the area. And stop running.

Phil couldn’t see a single person stop running - projection didn’t control anyone - but there were a few people that scrabbled for their pocketed phones. A phone, he should call Dan. He reached for his pocket, but his fingers slipped uselessly against the empty fabric of his jeans, and he remembered with sinking despair that he had put down his phone on the table back at the apartment and forgotten to pick it up again. “Dan!” he called again, a vain effort lost amongst the noisy crowd now filling the pavements. The other stores along the block were emptying, all of the customers desperate for the open, freeing space of the street. Phil was vaguely sure that, in an earthquake, people were meant to get beneath a table or hold onto something and not run outside, but he had no way of stopping the panic from spreading as quickly as the tremors had begun. He felt utterly useless.

Someone screamed, just another noise amongst the commotion, but Phil’s attention was grabbed by the sound. It seemed like it was still inside the Starbucks, the one he had been unceremoniously propelled from in what seemed like hours ago but couldn’t have been more than a minute or two. His gaze jumped involuntarily from the panic before him to the glass door of the Starbucks just a few feet to his left. It was juddering in its frame, the glass shimmering in place as it threatened to break. There was another piercing wail from inside, and Phil was suddenly sure that someone had been left inside.

He moved without thinking, feet dancing around the shallow crevices that were splintering the ground to make his way to the door. Aware that the glass could shatter at any moment, he grasped the handle and tugged gently, but the door didn’t move. Glancing down, he found the cause of its impediment - the stone around the frame had climbed to escape the ground’s movements and imprisoned the door.

“Help!”

Phil’s gaze snapped up and past the shuddering glass of the door, and now he could see where the screams had originated. There were two teenagers in the far corner of the store. One was sprawled on the floor, a leg twisted at a grotesque angle. She was grasping it with both hands, her head bowed as if she was fighting against the pain. Another girl crouched beside her, trying to hold onto both the wounded girl and a table beside her at the same time. She shivered minutely, but Phil couldn’t tell if it was from pain or the ground still trembling beneath them. She opened her mouth to yell again, but then her gaze locked with Phil’s and her expression collapsed into relief. Waving, her voice shuddered as she spoke. “Help, please! My girlfriend tripped and we can’t get out!”

Phil was quite sure that coming outside, amongst this disaster and panicking people, wouldn’t help, but he wasn’t going to leave them. A few details of the scenario jumped out at him: the flickering lights in the shop; the abandoned coffee cups and pastries strewn abandoned across the tables and tumbled to the floor; and then, the worst of everything, the cracks climbing the darkly painted walls of the Starbucks. It was that which made up his mind more than anything.

“Keep holding onto the table!” he called through the nervously warping glass. “Give me just a second.” He braced himself against the next fierce roll of concrete beneath him. It felt like surfing a wave of brittle, uncertain catastrophe. He had never surfed, and he didn’t think he ever wanted to now.

A cautious tug on the door handle did nothing but anger the glass. A crack seared across the top corner and Phil hesitated. He didn’t want to shatter the glass if he could avoid it. The solution sprang to him as soon as he glanced back down at the frame that was held captive by the upheaved ridges of the stone walkway. Releasing the handle of the door, he flicked a finger and a mental order at the jagged edges of the rock. It resisted him for a moment, yearning to obey the more powerful force of the yawning earth beneath him, but he insisted, and it reluctantly complied. The obstruction sank into the walkway, the stone seeming to melt as it reformed under his power, freeing the frame, and he opened the door instantly, careful but persistent. It took him more than a few moments to navigate inside and across the trembling floor, almost tip-toeing to keep his balance when the ground heaved beneath him. He couldn’t help but glance up at the cracks that were webbing across the wall just beside the two girls on the floor. There was something almost anticipatory about the scrawled lines and the way they stretched eagerly for the ceiling. This building wasn’t safe.

Phil wasn’t sure anywhere was safe right now.

He knelt beside the two girls, ignoring the way his knees dug into the powdered concrete. He didn’t bother asking if they were okay - they weren’t, and neither was anyone right now. The wounded girl, her chin still tucked to her chest, was breathing shakily, her fingers bloodless at the grip on her own leg. Her hair, cascading around her face, shuttered her expression from Phil’s view.

The other girl had watched Phil’s approach with anxious eyes, and her voice sounded gritty now when she spoke. “We need to get out of here.” Her own hand was tightly gripped on the other’s arm.

Phil glanced up briefly at the wall and its spreading cracks. “Yeah, we do.” He surveyed the wounded girl’s leg, then, a hasty inspection that made his stomach twist. Her knee was twisted beneath her in an unnatural position that felt wrong to look at. At least there was no blood. “Do you think you’ll be able to move?”

She simply shook her head, the tips of her hair swaying. Phil could see the tiny purse of her mouth, the pain-tight crinkles that squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m suppressing her nervous system,” the other girl hastily explained. “That’s my - I can do that, but only when she isn’t moving. Can you...you pushed down the ground outside? What can you - ?”

“I can control small objects,” Phil said, and then hesitated. “...Usually. I might be able to float larger objects, but it’s a lot harder and it doesn’t always work.” He had rarely, other than a few playful mental shoves during his childhood, actually moved a human being. Skin and muscle and bones were so much more fragile than blocks of wood and malleable concrete. Experimenting wasn’t really an option with this aspect of his power, not when he could easily injure delicate skin or breakable bones with the wrong mental nudge, and torn humans did not zipper back together like a ripped piece of fabric would under Phil’s attention.

Something was prickling at the back of Phil’s mind, a bubble of suggestion that felt familiar, but he dismissed it with little effort. When he focussed back on the nerve-suppressing teen crouched beside her girlfriend, he could see her eyebrows furrowed tightly together.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her. She hadn’t seemed injured, but she must have been the one screaming earlier. He might have missed something obvious.

She blinked, then nodded. “No, I’m fine. I just got...tired for a second.”

The floor shook beneath Phil again, gritting bits of crumbled wall into his knees, and it shook his awareness back to the store around them. He studied the cracks again, noting their rapid spread. His throat felt tight, too tight. Spreading cautious fingers, he tilted his palm toward the corners where the wall met the ceiling and prodded at the cracks, little more than a mental brush against them, in an attempt to gauge how deep they went. He needed to know if the structural integrity of the building was compromised. A few pieces of plaster crumbled and showered all three of them, mocking his efforts, but he got his answer only a second later when the ceiling creaked ominously above them.

“Okay, we need to leave,” Phil ordered.

Both girls started to move at the urgency in his voice, but they had all waited too long. With another heave of the ground and a groaning protest from the wall supports, the ceiling lost its will to stay perched precariously on the rebellious walls.

The ceiling fell.

Phil threw up both hands instinctively as the lights, plaster, and wooden beams crumpled inwards and down toward them. The entire building was crashing down upon him and he could feel the weight of it sink past his fingertips, past his desperately outstretched hands, past his arms and shoulders and chest, and settle deep into his bones. It wanted to crush him, and all he had to hold it back was the tightly wound threads of his ability that were twisted around his mind. The strings, those bits of energy that he associated with his power, yanked tight around his head and he clenched his eyes shut against the sudden, searing pain that blossomed in his mind. It was all-consuming, an instant migraine worse than anything he had felt even on his worse days. Briefly overusing his power and regretting the headache it invited was nothing compared to this. It had been less than seconds, and his blood was fiery pain in his veins, his bones quaked, and his skin crawled at the whispered sensation of air against it.

But...he could feel the air. He wasn’t physically crushed beneath a tonne of destroyed ceiling. The cords of his power were strangling his mind, but, somehow, he was still alive.

Phil opened his eyes. Around and above him, the building hung suspended in broken fragments, chunks of plaster, thick beams of wood, and glinting pieces of shattered lights all frozen in terrifying stillness.

“Oh my god,” breathed one of the girls.

He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t move. If he moved even one hand, still flung out at the mass of destruction hovering above them, then he didn’t think he could maintain it. He didn’t even know how he was doing it, not really. There was a part of him that felt detached and silent, observing the display of frozen destruction in a quiet curiosity.

“Oh my god,” said one of the girls again. He could feel her looking at him, shaken. “You’re bleeding.”

One of the threads of Phil’s power reached out for her with anticipation, but he let it slip away. The words that she had spoken registered faintly in the back of his mind, and yet it seemed inconsequential through the haze of pain that surrounded him. He could feel it, though, the blood creeping from the burst vessels in his nose and pooling in the dip above his upper lip.

“Holy shit,” said the other girl. It was the hurt one. Her voice was tight with her own pain from her leg, but she sounded clearer than Phil felt.

He had to force his thoughts to arrange themselves. Most of himself was vacant, wrapped around every misplaced molecule in the air above him, but the strings strangling his mind were drawing ever tighter and he knew something was going to break. Blood dripped from his lips when he spoke. “You need to get out of here.” His throat clamped around the words, and he had to force them out. Slowly, slowly, he let his gaze drift to the way out - and there was still a way out. It was narrow, and surrounded by dangerously suspended bits of the ceiling, but there was a path to the still-open door.

“We wouldn’t leave without you!” Her voice was desperate, but Phil knew in a distant sort of way that yes, she would.

But he could move. He had to move.

“Wait, can you...here.” The girls were moving now, and one hissed with pain, but Phil didn’t dare let his concentration shift enough to take notice of what they were doing. They were done in only a moment, and then they were standing beside him, one leaning heavily on the other. He was still in a half-crouch on the floor, and his fingers trembled in the outstretched pose he maintained.

“Please,” said the girl supporting the other. Her eyes were ringed with white, and she trembled in fear, but she held out a hand unhesitatingly to him. “Please, stand!”

The ground rumbled beneath them again, very briefly. Phil hadn’t noticed that the quaking had stopped until it moved again. It was only a brief slip of concentration, and Phil snatched back control in half a second, but one of the threads digging deep into his mind stretched, and stretched, and snapped.

It started in the corner of the room first. A whisper of suspended plaster pattered against the floor, and then a heavier particle of a lightbulb shattered on an overturned table. Phil clung desperately to the strings of his power, but they were fraying and his mind ached and he was so, so tired.

He was lurching to his feet before he even thought about it. His hands still outstretched, he swayed in place, half-expecting the ground to collapse beneath him or the broken chunks of the building to come crashing down upon them all, but somehow, there was no immediate consequence. His lungs stuttered in his chest, and he sucked in a breath, realizing that he hadn’t been breathing for a few long moments. His chest heaved, and he hurt. Tearing his gaze from the effects of his ability that surrounded him, he met the wide-eyed stares of the girls. The threads of his power began slipping from his grip.

“Run,” he said.

They ran. The injured girl cried out each time her wounded leg hit the floor, but her girlfriend was gripping her waist with a ferocity that Phil would have approved of if he wasn’t distracted by his own mind ripping free from the destroyed ceiling that he held in midair.

A beam, heavy and wooden, crashed to the floor behind the crumpled counter of the shop. Another string tore in Phil’s mind, but he fought against the others trying to wrench themselves from his grip. He took an unsteady step after the girls, who still hobbled desperately for freedom. If the ground moved now, he wouldn’t make it to the door.

The ground didn’t move, but the ceiling did. More clutter fell piece by piece, raining down upon the floor and crushing tables beneath them.

Phil held on, and he held on, and he slowly made his way for the door, and he held on.

And then he was stumbling out of the door just after the girls, and the store was crashing down behind him in a thunderous, bone-rattling roar, and his thoughts were warping terrifyingly inside him. He could taste the blood on his lips, mingled with the fresh air of freedom he had gained. His eyes felt glazed, and he stumbled off the pavement to get further from the store, still tumbling and settling in its ruin. Something crumpled, and Phil realized it was him. Someone caught him, but he didn’t know who it was. His mind was too loud, crashing against every nerve in his body. He felt hyper-sensitive, every touch and smell and glimpse of light screaming pain into him.

Suddenly, blissfully, it all quieted, and Phil let his eyes slip shut to embrace the warming darkness that enveloped him.

~~~

Phil woke up slowly, his thoughts piecing themselves back together as his eyes blinked open. It was dark in the room he was in, but he could make out a slumped form in the chair beside his bed. A slow, steady beeping came from a machine on the other side of him. He was in the hospital, then. He lifted careful fingers to his forehead as if to check that it was still in once piece, and was pleasantly surprised to find that nothing...hurt. He would expect his head to be splitting with a migraine after the bits and flashes of what he could recall.

“You got the good stuff,” came a gravelly voice from the person beside him. “A doctor with a healing ability was in here earlier.”

“Dan,” said Phil. His eyes stung, tears prickling at the corner of his vision as emotion swamped him. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck you,” said Dan, but it was too soft to be anything but fond. He moved abruptly, leaning halfway out of his seat to drape himself across Phil and bury his face in the crumpled neckline of Phil’s hospital gown. “God, you dick. You scared me so much.”

Phil’s arms had moved instinctively to grip him. “I couldn’t find you,” he said, the memory of that frozen panic flashing back to him. “You were just...gone.”

Dan’s laugh was a half-sob, muffled against Phil’s chest. “I couldn’t find you,” he said. “I got shoved across the street somehow and when the tremors stopped and I made it back to the Starbucks, it had already collapsed. I only found you because these two girls were bawling beside you thinking you were dead.”

“Are they okay?” Phil asked, suddenly urgent with the reminder of the couple that had survived an entire crushing building with him. “One of them had a broken leg, I think.”

“Yeah, there were a lot of ambulances and shit that pulled up seconds after everything stopped shaking and falling. They’re safe.” Dan finally sat back up, swiping ineffectually at his eyes with one hand, but the other found Phil’s hand under the thin, sterile hospital blanket and gripped it tightly. “I would have given them my phone number or something, but I was a little preoccupied with you being fucking unconscious.”

“Sorry,” Phil apologized weakly, but Dan laughed, the noise wet and catching in his throat.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, you controlled an entire building. That’s insane.”

It was insane. Phil didn’t want to do it ever again. His head throbbed at the reminder of the crushing sensation and the terror he had felt when he slowly lost his grip over his ability. “Yeah,” he said. “It was...crazy.”

Dan sighed, and he looked exhausted suddenly. The evening sun peeked through the room’s blinds, highlighting his chest and face in rosy golden strips. “God, Phil. You scared me so badly. Never do that again.”

“I don’t plan on it,” Phil agreed. He examined the deep, blood-bruised bags under Dan’s eyes and patted the narrow space on the cot beside him. “Here, nap until the nurse comes to check on me.”

“I’m not going to fit,” Dan protested, but he was already climbing in beside him. His curls tickled Phil’s cheek as he settled in, and his body felt like the missing piece of a puzzle when he pressed himself into Phil.

Phil still didn’t know quite what had happened - what was causing these earthquakes, how he survived such an overextension of his powers, or even what tomorrow would bring - but for now, he closed his eyes and let his arm curl around Dan’s hip and he breathed.

They were both okay. That was all that really mattered.

#phandom big bang #phandom big bang 2019 #pbb 2019 #phan #phanfics #phanfiction #phanfic au #phanfic superpowers #tw mild blood #tw broken bones #tw earthquake #telekinetic phil #empathic dan #+surprise power dan #angst #domestic #happy ending #mostly?#ok i'm done

94 notes · View notes

yandere-foods · 5 years

Note

Sorry I didnt specify what i wanted. A story with Buddhas Temptation sound good

All right anon one story coming up!

(Me salty that this sexy, savvy businessman has refused to come home TWICE, Nooooo)

Yandere Buddha’s Temptation X Gender Neutral Reader

“Ok if I spend this much here I can extend that wall making more dining space. But would that really be big enough or?” You trailed off mumbling to yourself. You were trying to decide if you wanted to extend your restaurant, you had all the materials but you wanted to make sure you had plenty of money to do it and not run the risk of bankruptcy. You kept trying to find where you could cut some things out of budget.

“I could cut some things here, but that would affect this, and that could cause some trouble…Damn it!” You slammed the account book closed and sighed. “Come on get a grip your the Master Attendant you need to know this.”

“Having trouble are we?”

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was you could tell by the way cigar smoke started to fill the room and the way his patten leather shoes clicked that it was him.

“Buddha’s Temptation, I have told you several times that my office is off limits” He let out a deep laugh at you words.

“This is the the thanks I get for offering my help?” He took another puff of his cigar and blew the smoke in your direction causing you to cough.

“Put that thing out! Unlike you those things can get me sick plus, they smell dreadful And you never offered to help you just waltzed on in like you owned the place.” And he’s been like that ever since you summoned him. Acting high and mighty never doing as asked but he never had a single problem dishing out orders and not just other food souls but, you as well. Not to mention the things he asked you to do kept you away from your work and close by him. It was starting to feel like he ran the restaurant and you were his secretary.

“Now what are you working on here.” He leaned over the desk to get a better look at the closed book. “The account book,” he squinted his sharp eyes. “I told you to leave stuff like this to me you’re far too naive to handle stuff like this.” He reached for the account book only for you to snatch it away pulling it close to your chest. He then looked at you and you met his look with a glare.

“First of all; the owner of the restaurant keeps the account book and last time I checked thats me not you. Second of all; I was running this restaurant just fine without you.” Feeling brave you stood up, granite you were not taller than him but you sure as hell trying to make yourself appear bigger. “I summoned you, I am the Master Attendant and I don’t ne-”

Buddha’s Temptation grabbed your face and made you look him in the eye and with his glare any rebuttal you had died in your throat and the grip he had on your face kept you still you could tell he was not happy about your little outburst. He brought his cigar to his mouth and killed the cigar in a deep drag he then dropped it and crushed it beneath his shoe and when he let out the smoke he looked demonic.

“Let’s get one thing clear little one you may be the master but I am the king and last time I checked,” His grip tightened on your face. “A master answers to the king.” He let go of your face and sat in your- no - his desk chair and pulled out another cigar and lit it. “Now come over here.” Your look of fear went to one of shock at his sudden demand. “I’m not going to ask again get over here now.” You took slow steps to him and when you were close to him he pulled you into his lap. “Now l believe you won’t be needing that anymore.” he plucked the account book from your hands and placed it on the desk. “I’ll make sure to fix it later but right now I think you need a lesson on who’s in charge here.”

“Waite hold on a second!” you try to stand up as he takes another drag from his cigar and pulls you back down and kisses you. You open your mouth to protest but he uses it as a chance to push smoke into your lungs. The smoke burns your throat and makes your eyes water, the taste of tobacco to strong for you to handle you manage to push him away to cough and wheeze out the smoke forced into your lungs. He even had the audacity to rub your back as you choked, you glare at him through your tears.

“No need to look so angry little one, next time I promise the smoke will go down much smother.” His hands moved from your back to your hair as he looked down at you with possessive eyes.

“What makes you think I would ever let you do that again!” The hand once gently carding through your hair now turned in to an iron fist.

“I think you fail to realize something here little one.” his voice takes on a possessive tone. “I own you, I have the very moment you summoned me, and I own everything you hold dear. With one word from me I can make everything you love disappear so I suggest you start learning your place little one. Do you understand me?” His hand lets go of your hair and goes back so stroking it.

“Yes.” You say through gritted teeth. You have to say yes right now he has to much power over you right now and you need a plan to stop him.

“Oh I highly doubt that, but you’ll accept that sooner or latter.” he took another drag of his cigar. “Now how about another kiss?”

#yandere #yandere foodfantasy #buddha's temptation #food fantasy #foodfantasy #yandere buddha's temptation #food fantasy buddha's temptation

44 notes · View notes

galli-writes · 5 years

Text

Anything at All

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

(Click here to listen to the podfic!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Sorry it took me so long to get this next chapter out! I've been very busy lately. Hopefully things should be getting a little more consistent soon.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2: The First Fight ( words: 7,525 )

Lately, Beast Boy had decided that his least favorite part of being called out on a mission was changing into uniform. Calling it a uniform and not a costume made it only slightly less embarrassing.

He understood the point of it—at least from Robin’s perspective. But the rest of them didn’t have much of an alternate identity anyway, so the costume always seemed a little redundant. Like Raven had pointed out when they first met, trying to ‘conceal your civilian identity’ seemed a little pointless when you were green. But they’d still kept it up all these years regardless. Robin’s leniency toward costume redesigns was the one saving grace.

Beast Boy quickly grabbed a pair of slick black athletic pants off the floor, along with a form fitting long sleeve shirt. It was still raining outside and, heading into October, that meant it was probably pretty cold out there too. Both pieces were relatively plain, save for a few purple accents here and there and several obnoxious zippers. He strapped on his extra-grip running shoes as tightly as he could without cutting off his circulation. He’d learned from experience that this was a necessary evil.

Before running out the door, he made sure to grab one last thing. A red and white sports jacket that he’d been recently trying to incorporate into his look. Raven always complained that he needed to just pick one color scheme and stick with it—the purple and black or the red white—but Beast Boy refused. She told him the jacket was stupid, and actually seemed actively annoyed by the clashing colors. So naturally he wore it every opportunity he got.

He glanced at the clock on his desk, muttering a curse under his breath. He darted out of his room, nearly tripping around the corner as he ran. It had only been a minute or two, but sometimes that wasn’t fast enough for Robin. The guy seemed to live in his uniform. Beast Boy suspected he always had on it underneath whatever he was wearing--just like in the movies.

By the time he got to the garage, only Robin and Cyborg were still there—Robin about to hop on his bike, Cyborg tinkering with his car again.

“There you are,” Robin said, in the middle of putting on his helmet.

“Sorry,” Beast Boy panted.

“Don’t apologize,” Robin said flatly. “Apologies don’t fix mistakes. Actions do. Just try and get here sooner next time.”

“Right,” Beast Boy said. The words weren’t unfair or mean spirited, but they did leave him with a small pit in his stomach. Raven could teleport anywhere in an instant. Cyborg didn’t even have to change. And any time Starfire was ever late or unprepared for a battle, Robin barely seemed to noticed. Maybe that was one of the perks of dating your team leader.

“I’ve already sent Star and Raven out to do some recon. You should try and catch up to them,” Robin said, revving the engine.

Cyborg had stood up from behind the car, and was now typing away at a keypad on his arm. “Just sent their location to your transmitter. You shouldn’t be too far behind them.”

“On it,” Beast Boy nodded.

Without looking back he turned on his heels and started running as fast as he could—at least in his human form. Then, in one quick movement, the ground disappeared from under his feet, replaced with the damp, whirling air of a rainy day.

He hadn’t been lying earlier. With a hawk’s eye view he really could see every detail below him—everything from the man shushing his child at the bus stop to the woman handing out religious pamphlets on the corner of the street. If the clouds hadn’t been blocking it, he figured he probably would have had a pretty good view of the sunset. Instead, the sky was dark and gray. The city easily made up for it with every streetlight, headlight, and illuminated office building that cut through the rain.

The bank was just around the corner--the sirens and flashing lights confirmed it.

Beast Boy glided down to the roof of a shorter building just across the street from all the action. He perched on the back of a patio chair--one among many on the rooftop. The air smelled like coffee and freshly baked bread, even through the rain. And based on the number of sparrows that scattered when he landed, he figured the roof had to belong to a restaurant or coffee shop. The thought alone was enough to make his stomach rumble again. Turns out two handfuls of Fritos couldn’t really count as a meal.

Beast Boy whipped his transmitter out of his pocket and clicked the button on the side.

“I’m here,” he said, looking around. “Not sure exactly where everyone else is.”

“Hold on a sec,” Cyborg’s voice crackled through his ear. “They just left. Heading west in pursuit. Towards the outskirts of town.” The sound of frantic typing echoed through the speaker. “Their signal’s dying though. Fast. I think I’m gonna lose ‘em any second.”

Beast Boy smiled, even though no one could see. “Piece a cake.”

He slid the transmitter back into his pocket and leapt off the building once more. He flew directly over the sea of blaring lights and sirens, bypassing them entirely. Two blocks ahead, he dove into an alley and landed on all fours. Fortunately, the GPS he had up his sleeve was powered by smell, not cellular signal. And in this kind of weather, a green wolf prowling through the shadows could easily be mistaken for a mangy stray dog.

The rain admittedly made things more difficult. Every trace of a scent he found was vague and foggy. But he was confident he’d find the trail eventually--the scent he was looking for was hard to miss.

After trotting through the shadows for a good ten minutes, he finally caught what he was looking for. The aroma itself, sweet and slightly smoky, was faint at first. But it was so distinctly different from every other smell—exhaust fumes, humidity, and now wet dog--that just one whiff was enough to send him into a small sneezing fit.

The buildings around him had begun to change pretty drastically as well. Instead of skyscrapers, narrow apartment buildings made up the majority of the street face. He passed an old-fashioned gas station with only three pumps. Several men were standing outside the convenience store connected to it, laughing and smoking cigarettes. Another block down he passed a 24 hour pizza place that was totally empty. Then another convenience store with a busted neon sign. The street lights changed for only a few passing cars. He could count the number of people he saw on four paws--one of them a stray cat that had hissed at him violently as he passed.

Beast Boy knew he was still very much in the city--but he didn’t know where. Somehow even with the lights and the people and the apartments, it felt like he was trekking through a ghost town. A place that the rest of the city had forgotten about altogether. He couldn’t explain why exactly, but his breath suddenly felt more labored and tired. Like each time he exhaled it was more of a sigh. A shadow of sadness he couldn’t trace back to any one thing in particular.

When the ground shifted from asphalt to grass, he breathed a sigh of relief. The dewy forest floor felt so much more natural when he was in this form. Needless to say, the relief was not just physical. As he put more and more distance between himself and the streets behind, the sentiment began to fade. And it disappeared completely the moment he spotted some flaming red hair poking through the trees.

He bounded forward and leapt into the air, sneezing mid-transformation. To top it all off, he quickly realized that the ground beneath him wasn’t so much ground anymore as it was a pile of mud. A pile of mud he promptly slid right into.

“Beast Boy!” Starfire gasped.

“’Sup ladies,” he said with a wink, meeting Raven’s eye roll from the ground.

“How were you able to locate us?” Starfire asked, helping him up. “We do not have any of the signal.”

Beast Boy stood, trying (and failing) to wipe the mud off his jacket. “Oh, that was easy,” he said, flicking some off his shoulder. “Raven stinks .”

Raven glared at him, her eyes two menacing slits under a cloak of shadow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You always smells like that weird store downtown,” he continued. “With the Buddha statues and weed socks.”

He should’ve seen her next move coming--but of course he hadn’t.

Suddenly Beast Boy’s footing gave and he found himself on the ground again-- magically --like he’d never gotten up in the first place. Raven was looking over him.

“It’s called incense . And I’ve never set a foot in that disgusting store in my life.”

Beast Boy got to his feet again. This time unassisted. “Well it stinks,” he said dramatically wrinkling his nose. “Why can’t you just burn sugar cookie candles like a normal person?”

Raven frowned. “Well at least I don’t smell like a soggy doggy daycare,” she replied.

Beast Boy looked down at his drenched, and now very muddy, clothing. No grade of athletic fabric would have been enough to save him from the laundry he’d be doing after a fall like that.

“So you have no news from Robin?” Starfire quickly interjected, looking around a little more urgently than either of them.

“I think he was about to head this way—maybe he’s asking some questions back at the bank?” Beast Boy shrugged. He instinctively reached for his transmitter. “Lemme check if I have any bars.”

Flipping the device open in his palm, he squinted at the top left corner. Miraculously, he had a flickering signal--if only for a second. The number in the top right hit 2%...then 1%...and then the device shut off entirely. He snapped it shut.

“Uh--nope, nothing. No bars,” he said, biting his lip.

“Oh, glorbnaf,” Starfire said under her breath.

Beast Boy looked around them, but could only make out the shadowy outlines of the towering trees. Out here, the only light they had to guide them was the glow from Starfire’s eyes.

“Sooooo...”

“We just lost them,” Raven said flatly.

Beast Boy grit his teeth. ““...What’re we gonna tell Robin?”

“Exactly what I just told you. Unless you have a better idea.”

Beast Boy looked around the clearing they were all stopped in. And when he really started to absorb his surroundings, the feeling from the streets returned again. He couldn’t place what it was, but something didn’t feel right. It was something about the ground. Now that he wasn’t running across it or slipping in a mud puddle, he could feel something. Hear something deep below.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, furrowing his brow. Instantly, the green elephant from earlier reappeared in the clearing, landing with a crash. Starfire and Raven’s eyes both widened in confusion, but they remained silent as Beast Boy slowly walked around the clearing. With every step he took, he could feel it more clearly--a sort of vibration, a humming reverberating up through the earth. He stopped directly in the center of the clearing and transformed back.

“I think...they’re still here,” he said slowly. “They’re just...underground.”

“Underground?” Starfire said.

Raven frowned.“So you turned into an elephant and stomped on their ceiling. Because that’s not conspicuous at all.”

“Eh heh hem,” Beast Boy said as he spun around. “Elephants can hear through their feet, Raven .”

“You know what else can hear underground?” she replied. “Tiny mice and mole rats that don’t alert the enemy that we’re standing right on top of them .”

Beast Boy just threw out a hand dismissively. “Yeah, right. Like they really heard that.” He shook his head. “I heard some kind of weird humming noise. They’re probably blasting music while they count their money.”

“Um...friends,” Starfire’s voice cut in, once again much more urgently.

Beast Boy and Raven turned simultaneously, eyes following Starfire’s gaze as she pointed to several metal objects rising out of the ground.

Without missing a beat, Raven raised her hands, eyes aglow. A translucent purple dome instantly appeared around them--and not a second too soon.

Lasers bounced viciously off the barrier, coming from every direction. Even though the dome easily deflected the shots, the action began to produce a troubling smokescreen on all sides, completely blocking their visibility.

“You were saying?” Raven sneered, brow furrowed in concentration.

Starfire began to throw shots out in every direction. Each time she was lucky enough to hit something, a small burst of light leaked through the smoke, which was only now beginning to clear. Just enough for Beast Boy to see the lights coming toward them.

“Uh...guys,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “We’ve got company.”

Starfire spun around, now following his line of sight. She began firing once more, this time with slightly more precision.

“They’re gonna be right on top of us,” Raven said, gritting her teeth. “I have to drop the screen. I think it’s--”

But Beast Boy didn’t wait for her to finish the thought. He hadn’t been able to do much on the mission so far. But now, with so many targets in front of him, he could feel the blood thumping in his ears, more loudly than the voice of his friend.

In the next moment, he felt his claws dig into the wet earth, and then into sharp metal and sparking wires as he pounced and ripped off one of the approaching figure’s arms. Having the jaws of a bengal tiger made the the task as simple as snapping a toothpick. Beast Boy pounded forward, barely dodging several strikes from what appeared to be some sort of metal staff. When he was within a foot of the wielder, he leapt directly at them, aiming for the center of the staff they now held up in defense.

But instead of reveling in the satisfaction of watching the staff broken in half at his feet, Beast Boy suddenly found that he was the one of the ground again. His right leg coursed with a numbing electric pain, and every nerve in his body felt distant--misplaced.

With a nearly invisible swipe, the staff and its wielder had spun out of his reach, only to knock him down with an incredibly basic low sweep. On his back, reeling with pain, he looked up at the shadowy figure hovering over him now. Blue and white sparks flew off the cold metal of the staff, which they raised above them, ready to deliver the final blow. Beast Boy closed his eyes tight. It wouldn’t actually be the final blow of course. But it definitely wasn’t going to be pretty either.

Just as he was about to accept that being bedridden for a week wouldn’t be all bad, a blaring noise passed over him, followed by an inhuman scream. He opened his eyes, squinting just enough to see Raven hovering off to his left.

“You can thank me later,” she said, barely glancing at him before firing another bolt of shadow into the fray. “On your right.”

Beast Boy looked up again and, with his good leg, used the same move that had bested him to take out the oncoming attacker. In one swift swipe, the figure was on the ground, falling face first into the mud. With a subtle smirk, Beast Boy quickly transformed again--this time into an alligator--and chomped down on the attacker’s leg.

The figure fell limp, but just as it did, Beast Boy felt the pain coursing through his right leg again--this time radiating all the way up into what would have been his thigh. He slipped back into human form, pulling the knee tight up against his chest. No matter which way he turned it, the pain didn’t disappear.

It was during this moment that he realized just how quiet the scene had become. When he looked back up at the battlefield before him he only saw a handful of enemies left standing--and they were clearly outmatched. In the entire time it had taken him to take down two goons, his friends had managed to wipe out the other thirty or so.

He rested his forehead on his knee and exhaled a long sigh. Yeah. Typical.

“I’ve found something!” Starfire called in the distance.

He lifted his head to see her crouched over one of the bodies on the ground. After a moment she stood back up, brandishing a small object in her hand. Meeting Beast Boy’s eyes, she flew over to him.

“Beast Boy--are you the hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Just...tired.” Though even as he said it, he could feel the muscles in his leg throbbing in pain.

Raven appeared silently behind Starfire, who looked down at the object again. She sighed. “It is the same symbol as that from the other attacks.”

There was a pause as Beast Boy studied her expression, which was relieved and distraught at the same time. And then he noticed Raven, who was staring straight at him, squinting.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” he said, eyebrow raised.

“I’m not looking at you ,” Raven said, rolling her eyes.

“What?”

“Scoot over,” she said, waving her hand.

Even though it hurt to do so, he did, moving a foot away from the tree trunk he’d propped himself up against.

Raven crouched down next to him and began digging through the soggy leaves. The rain was starting to let up, but in the aftermath of the storm everything was still a muddy mess. After a moment, her efforts revealed an incredibly dim, blinking red light buried under the roots of the large oak tree.

Beast Boy furrowed his brow in confusion “How’d you--?”

“Your ass was blinking,” she said, pressing the dim light, which was apparently also a button. A small translucent panel popped out of the bark of the tree just above it.

“Why were you staring at my ass?” Beast Boy said, unable to resist flashing a snarky smile at her as he said it

Starfire giggled, a hand at her mouth trying to contain herself.

Raven shot her a look and she immediately dropped it. She looked back at the panel that had appeared on the tree. “It looks like a fingerprint scanner,” she said, eyes narrowed.

Without a word, Raven looked back out over the battlefield. She extended a hand out in the direction of one of the fallen androids. In an instant, a dismembered arm flew into her hand. She removed the dirty leather glove from the end of it, revealing a small bit of ultra-realistic latex skin that had managed to stay attached to the hand. Sure enough, the grotesque realism included fingerprints.

She pushed each finger up against the scanner, one by one. When she got to the ring finger, the panel finally blinked green and, after a moment, receded back into the trunk.

For a moment, nothing happened. And in that short span of time, Beast Boy managed to climb to his feet, making a conscious effort to look as uninjured as possible. Of course, when the ground began to shake and he fell flat on his ass again, he was sure he wasn’t convincing anyone.

To their right, a particular pile of leaves rustled a little more than the rest. With a loud click, a perfect circle began to cut itself out in the forest floor. There was just enough moonlight now to illuminate a narrow metal ladder leading down the edge of it.

“Well that was...easy,” Raven said, her tone tinged with even more distrust than usual.

“Who cares?” Beast Boy said, finally making it to his feet for the second time. “Time to kick some secret society android ass motherfu--!” He took one triumphant step forward, and, for the fourth time that night, found himself covered in mud on the forest floor.

Raven looked down at him from where she was standing, specifically eyeing his right leg, which he’d instinctively reached out for after the fall.

“You’re not coming,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“ What ?”

“Stay here and wait for Robin. Starfire and I will take care of it,” she said, ready to turn around and be on her way.

“But I just got here!” Beast Boy whined. “And I—“ He began to complain, but winced as the numbing pain coursed through his leg again.

Raven shot him a look over her shoulder. A look that told him that arguing with her wouldn’t be worth the trouble.

“Alright, alright,” Beast Boy grumbled. “Staying here.” He threw his arms up in the air in surrender and plopped down on the damp forest floor, leaning back up against the tree.

Starfire gave him a sympathetic smile, but drifted away with Raven as soon as she started to make her way down the passage. And in a moment, he was completely alone again.

“You know,” he yelled at the nothingness, “there’s lots of dangerous animals that don’t even have legs!”

The ironic chirp of crickets in the distance was the only reply he got.

Beast Boy looked around once more at the bodies littering the ground. He felt something akin to frustration bubble up in him. Seeing them all lying so still, he could actually get an idea of how many enemies they’d been up against. And how he was only responsible for taking down two of them. He couldn’t just quit here. If he did, it would be like he’d never even showed up to begin with. Like he’d barely contributed to the match. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Beast Boy eyed the opening in the ground that his two friends had just disappeared into. Then he shot one last glance at the army of androids littering the ground like old rag dolls.

“Raven wants me to play babysitter? Yeah, as if.”

With support from the tree trunk behind him, he pulled himself to his feet one last time. He could manage to stand on his own--and even walk a little if he was careful. But he was kidding himself. As much as he hated to admit it, Raven had been right about the severity of his injury.

He thought for a moment about what he could transform into. Something that wouldn’t require him to use his legs—at least not for movement. Something small and inconspicuous—something not even Raven would notice. Something that wouldn’t have any trouble getting down that tunnel.

One idea quickly came to mind. In a flash, he went from standing still to beating his miniature wings so fast he could barely see them. He felt invisible--which was exactly what he wanted. He hovered over the pit. And as for his usual dilemma, he didn’t have a thing to worry about. After all, humming birds were already green.

The passage underground was dark, damp, and at least three times as cold as the wind chill on the surface. As Beast Boy fluttered downward, a slight breeze pushed back against him, which admittedly made him start to second guess the whole humming bird thing.

Eventually however, the breeze started to level off, and Beast Boy could make out a faint yellow glow coming into focus beneath him. When he finally reached the source of the light, the breeze dispersed altogether as the tunnel opened into a wide room.

It was roughly what he’d expected. If you’ve see one underground hideout you’ve seen ‘em all.

Old subway tiles lined the wall. Though they’d probably been white at one point, now they were as brown as the rough dirt floor. The room itself was empty, save for a stream of water running along one edge of it. The water originated from somewhere beyond a grate in the eastern wall. It simply passed through, and exited out another grate at the opposite end. In the far left corner, another dim yellow light illuminated the only other point of entry built into the room. The whole scene looked a bit like the indie horror games Beast Boy never had the guts the finish.

He flew across the room toward the light, which revealed a long empty hallway.

Unmarked doors lined each side of the dirty tile, walls. The narrow space reeked of antiseptic and decaying wood. He quickly made his way down the hall, which fortunately had few twists and turns. Smaller hallways occasionally branched off of the main one, but they only led to clusters of doors. Doors that were all either locked or held nothing but some unremarkable chairs and tables inside them.

Whoever had designed this place had clearly been playing too many video games.

As he went deeper however, the atmosphere began to change slightly. The tiles lining the hallway gradually looked whiter, cleaner, newer --as if the hall had only recently been constructed. Down here, instead of just blank doors and empty rooms, signs began to pop up next to the door handles. They ranged in description from things like ‘JANITOR’ and ‘STORAGE’’ to things like ‘NEUROEPIGENETICS’ and ‘CRYOCONSERVATION’. Beast Boy was just beginning to wonder what the last two could possibly mean when he heard the faintest echoes of voices bouncing around an upcoming corner. And at least two of them were instantly recognizable.

He darted forward as quickly and as silently as his wings would carry him. It wasn’t long before the familiar sounds of Starfire’s energy bolts and Raven’s chanting joined the mix. When he turned a corner at the end of the hallway, the scene came into full view before him.

The room, or rather warehouse, was incredibly large, the decor just as plain and white as the route to get there. But unlike the other rooms he’d seen on his way over, this one wasn’t empty. Stacks upon stacks of large wooden crates and cardboard boxes lined the walls and sat in groups all over the floor. The ceiling reached incredible heights--it had to be at least fifty feet tall—and there were several stacks of crates that reached all the way to the top. It resembled the backlot of a Home Depot, that is, if the mulch and flowers had been replaced with suspicious, unmarked boxes.

The boxes aside, the room was wide open, so it wasn’t hard to get a good look at the fight going on. Beast Boy swallowed hard.

On the floor, there were already several people down. They looked just like the androids--black jumpsuits and masks that showed only their eyes. But none of them were sparking or twitching like broken machinery. Instead, they were writhing on the floor in pain--still alive of course. But it was the alive part that changed things.

In the ceiling corner diagonal to him, Beast Boy watched as Raven raised her hands, gritting her teeth as she heaved a forklift into the air and shot it toward a group of people, their weapons aimed directly at her. There was a loud crash, followed by a stream of red bullets flying from the cloudy aftermath of the wreckage. Raven dodged each one of them with an expert precision.

On the other side of the room, Starfire brutally yelled at one of goons in Tamaranian. She whipped around, blasting another small group of them with a beam of green light from her left hand. With her right, she cut down one of the ceiling beams, which subsequently crashed down on top of another few.

But despite their efforts, there were just too many of them to handle all at once. And the extras didn’t seem particularly interested in fighting back. They were trying to run away--and they were trying to take something with them.

In the corner the farthest away from the rest of the fighting, Beast Boy watched about ten or fifteen individuals scramble to transfer a particular set of crates into a white van. The engine was already running, the driver ready to take off at any moment.

Raven and Starfire were more than qualified to handle anything their opponents were dishing out. But they were outnumbered--and now they were stuck holding off the distraction.

Beast Boy felt his blood pumping again. This was his chance. Er...second chance. To not just be the distraction or the plan B, but to take center stage. And once again, it sparked something in him that he didn’t quite know how to control.

So he didn’t try to control it.

Any worry he had about Raven catching him immediately vanished. He didn’t care about being inconspicuous. He wanted to be seen. And a two ton rhinoceros was definitely more visible than a humming bird.

He hit the ground running, savoring the crack of the tile beneath his legs as he ran. The adrenaline coursing through his veins rendered all of the pain it caused him irrelevant. The ground shook, and instantly he could feel that all eyes were on him, even though he was too focused on the target in front of him to see them. He charged, head lowered, horn pointed directly at the group behind the truck, ready to—

“BEAST BOY!”

He instantly skidded to a stop. But he’d put the brakes on a second too late.

The criminals ducked out of the way, spared by his split second of hesitation. The driver revved the engine, Raven’s furious words still echoing off the walls.

They were the last thing he heard before he smashed head first into the wall.

When he opened his eyes, he felt his knees going weak underneath him. The only thing holding him upright was his horn, which was firmly pinned through the tile, behind the plaster of the wall. Pain shot through his leg again, and with a yank to free himself, he fell over, his thick skin scraping against the cold shards of broken tile that littered the floor.

Reverting back to his human form was less a choice than it was an obligation. Again, Beast Boy pulled himself up against the wall for support. He looked down at his bloodied palms, felt the taste of blood on his lips. And those were just the new additions to the injuries he’d already sustained.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, rubbing a hand across his temple. More blood.

He closed his eyes tight. But the room was bright enough that, even so, he noticed the instant a large shadow fell over him. He opened his eyes, squinting against the lights in the distance. Looming over him was the entire group of individuals he had pinned as easy targets only a moment before.

“Uh...hey there,” he said, with a faltering half smile. “Nice outfits. They new?”

Suddenly, one of the figures stepped forward out of the group. In their hand they held a long metal staff. They gave it a shake and blue sparks began to fire off the end of it.

“Oh. Right,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “That.”

This time he didn’t try and fight it.

Surprisingly, knowing what was coming actually just made things worse. This time he wasn’t caught off guard. And with no distractions, every single brain cell was free to experience the electrifying punch that landed smack in the middle of his chest.

“AHHHHH!!” he yelled so loudly he could barely hear himself think. His eyes shut tight again, this time automatically, and he could feel his entire body curling in on itself. The only control he had left was his ability to scream, and even that felt alien. Like it wasn’t really his voice he was hearing.

He tried to open his eyes, but the entire world was fading into a black static screen. The static itself became more and more muted, like even the TV was starting to lose power. His stomach wretched, and his breathing quickened. But no matter how many breaths he took it was never enough.

Not far off in the distance he heard a loud, muffled growl, followed by the crashing of crates in every direction surrounding him.

The roar of a truck engine and skidding tires rang in his ears, then grew more and more distant.

“Raven!” A second voice yelled, a little farther off. “They are escap—“

Another growl. A voice spitting words in a language Beast Boy didn’t understand. More explosions. The ping of stray bullets reflecting off the walls.

Beast Boy dared to try and open his eyes one more time. Everything was still hazy, but he could make out the shapes and colors before him. He inhaled, finding that his breathing was already beginning to even out. His muscles ached. His chest ached. Every inch of his body hurt like hell.

But he was...fine. Relatively speaking. He was a superhero after all. He’d just gotten his ass handed to him. Again.

But Raven didn’t know that.

The instant the thought occurred to him, he froze--and not just because of the literal paralysis.

Raven didn’t know he was perfectly conscious.

Beast Boy had dedicated countless hours--entire years of his life--to the art of pulling off the perfect prank. He’d gotten everyone at least one point or another over the years. Even Silkie . But pranking Raven had always been like trying to solve a puzzle where none of the pieces fit together. It was impossible. He’d tried everything. Or so he’d thought.

He shut his eyes tight again, this time biting the inside of his lip to keep himself from blowing his cover. If he could get away with this, he could get away with anything .

In a matter of moments, the noises began to fade. The last shots were fired, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor. And then footsteps that stopped right up next to the side of his face. Someone pausing to lean down.

“Beast Boy, get up,” Raven said sternly, her voice close to his ear. So close he could nearly feel her breath on his face.

Instead of responding though, he continued to lie there, focusing every bit of willpower he had on holding his breath and keeping as still as humanly possible.

Needless to say, doing so became more difficult when he felt two icy fingers press up against the side of his neck. The minute Raven’s skin made contact with his own, he felt a shiver run down his spine. For a brief moment it occurred to him how foreign her touch was. Despite have known each other for so many years now, they rarely ever made physical contact. The only exception was accidentally kicking each other under the table at dinner or smashing into each other in a fight. Raven wasn’t exactly the kind of person you casually brushed up against in the hallway or high-fived after wrapping up a mission. It was a small thing, but in that moment, it felt huge.

“Oh come on,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to him. “Look, I already said I don’t have time for your stupid jokes.”

Beast Boy continued to hold his breath, dually to keep himself from breaking character and to keep himself from snickering.

And then she grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and started shaking. Lightly at first, then a little more abruptly. That was something he hadn’t anticipated at all --but at the very least the motion was enough to obscure the rise and fall of his chest as he snuck in a quick breath. Once she set him down on his back again, he relaxed his muscles completely, picturing the image of a rag doll and trying his best to mimic it.

Raven paused. She pulled away for a minute. There was a soft whistle as she breathed in sharply through her teeth.

“Shit,” she whispered, the syllable uttered harsh and quick. It gave Beast Boy pause for a moment.

“ Shit ,” she repeated, her voice shaking a little. There was a distinct lack of apathy in her tone as she said it. For a split second it almost sounded like she was...concerned. Actually concerned .

And suddenly Beast Boy was too.

This had been a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

But before he could pretend to ‘wake up’ and avoid fucking up the situation any more than he already had, Raven picked him up. Not with magic. She actually picked him up full on princess style. Of course, Raven was naturally stronger than the average person, despite mainly relying on magic when it came to fighting. Just another tiny detail about her that suddenly felt very significant.

Beast Boy felt himself freeze up again--but this time it wasn’t an act. What exactly was going on here? And why did he feel so...weird about it?

A second later they were moving.

Beast Boy’s heart began to pound. If he’d been able to pick up on Raven’s scent from over a mile a way, he could definitely smell it now. It was on her clothes and on her skin--both of which he was pressed directly up against. Suddenly two fingers on his neck seemed like nothing. He took a cautious breath in through his nose, not having really decided whether it would be best to keep playing along for now or blow the whole thing.

But the idea of there even being an option didn’t last long, because in the next instant, the unimaginable happened.

He sneezed.

Raven skidded to a stop immediately. When she looked down, she locked eyes with a very conscious, very much alive, very much panicking Beast Boy.

There was only one road out now--and it was the one he least wanted to take.

Playing along with his original joke. His shitty, poorly thought out joke .

If he could play it off as much, maybe he’d be able to slide out of this. Raven would roll her eyes and drop him on the ground. And it would be like it never even happened.

He threw a hand over his forehead. “The...light...” he choked dramatically. “Closer to the light.” He outstretched his other hand toward the sky—which was suddenly moving upward with lightning speed...as he fell flat on his back.

He’d expected as much. What he didn’t expect was the absence of a snarky remark from the girl who’d just dropped him.

Just then, he noticed Starfire finally making her way over to them. She was panting, sweating, completely out of breath. “I tried to follow them but--” She gasped, hands flying up to either side of her face. “Is everything the alright?” she asked, looking down at Beast Boy on the ground.

There was a pause.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Raven said, a hint of hostility in her voice. Without another word, she turned sharp on her heel and began to walk back the way they had come.

Watching her go, Starfire extended a hand out to Beast Boy, helping him up. “What is wrong with friend Raven?”

“Pfft,” he said, trying his hardest to laugh it off. “Nothing’s wrong with her. She just doesn’t know how to take a joke.” But even as he said the words, he knew that what he’d done had been more than just a joke. It had teetered on a pretty dangerous line. Maybe even crossed it.

Starfire looked puzzled. “How can a joke be taken if it is merely a string of sounds?” she asked.

“I—it’s not important,” Beast Boy said, his mind elsewhere.

The trip back was slow and tiring. Beast Boy insisted that he could walk on his own for all of two minutes before letting Starfire carry him the rest of the way. By the time they made it back to the top of the tunnel they’d entered through, it felt like the battle they’d just fought took place a week ago. Maybe more. Time seemed to move more slowly--maybe because Beast Boy was preoccupied, mentally slapping himself every passing second.

When they reached the clearing, Raven was sitting criss cross in the air at the opposite end, meditating.

“I suppose we will have to tell Robin that we have failed,” Starfire said sadly, helping Beast Boy sit up against a nearby tree.

“Eh, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Beast Boy said, trying desperately to sound uninterested and unaffected. “I figure we’ve got some time to make up a convincing story before he gets here.”

But just as Beast Boy closed his mouth, a flash of bright yellow headlights cut through the trees, rushing toward them. A vehicle—unmistakably Robin’s motorcycle—skidded to a halt just at the edge of the clearing. The figure riding it lifted off his helmet and gave his short dark hair a ruffle before swinging off the bike and walking toward them.

“Finally! Do you know how long it took me to find you all without any tracking devices?” he said, panting. “Cyborg’s been going nuts trying to--” Then he paused and took a moment to look around more closely at the scene. First he looked over at Raven in the corner, her back to the rest of the group. Then he glanced down at Beast Boy, limply propped up against the tree and covered in blood. Finally he looked at Starfire, who had never learned how to keep a particularly convincing poker face.

Robin’s own facial expression shifted dramatically, his tone dropping. “What. Happened .”

“I—we—there was—” Beast Boy fumbled, pointing at himself, then Raven, then at the hole to his left.

“Beast Boy happened,” Raven interjected, harshly, her back still turned to them.

“Beast Boy?” Robin repeated, addressing him directly.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, avoiding eye contact.

Robin threw him a skeptical look.

“He was hurt,” Raven said, finally turning around. “So I told him to stay behind—and did he? No. Of course not. He came running after us trying to ‘help’,” she scoffed, making air quotes as she said it. “Queue Mr. Genetic Mistake rushing in with a broken leg and getting knocked out, making ajoke out of it, and buying the idiots we were chasing just enough time to escape.”

Robin turned back to looked at him, disappointed.

“She forgot the part where I was the one who figured out where they were hiding,” he said defiantly, pointing at himself. His caution momentarily replaced by an edge of defensiveness.

“Yeah,” Raven sneered. “By ringing the doorbell.”

“At least it helped us find the entrance!”

“An entrance they’re definitely going to close off or relocate because now we know where it is .”

Robin sighed a long, deep sigh. “Alright. That’s enough.” He rubbed his temples, eyes shut. “We can’t do anything about it now except hope to do better next time. Raven, help him out, would you?” he said, nodding toward Beast Boy. “Star, there’s some stuff I wanna ask you about the people you fought.”

Before she turned her back on him, Starfire shot Beast Boy one last sympathetic look. Though this one felt less like a ‘I feel for you,’ look, and more like a ‘glad it’s not me’ look.

Beast Boy looked down at the ground. He couldn’t risk meeting Raven’s eyes.

She approached him slowly, also avoiding looking directly at him. She crouched down next to him, silently placing her hands over his injured leg. A cloud of energy began to swirl above it, and the pain started to subside slowly but steadily.

Beast Boy snagged a quick glance at her face, trying to read her expression. She didn’t budge, as if healing him took every ounce of her concentration. He knew it didn’t.

For the third time that night, he felt somehow...uncomfortable with their close proximity. The silence only made things worse. So, without thinking, he tried to break it the only way he knew how.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I finally got you ,” he said, trying to manage a playful smile. He imagined that the one he mustered up wasn’t completely convincing.

Suddenly Raven stopped. The light faded from her hands. She stood up and looked down at him, this time dead in the eye.

“Not everything is a joke, Beast Boy,” she said sternly. “And one day, you’re gonna learn that the hard way.”

Beast Boy just sat there for a moment, processing what she had said. He tried to think of a response--some offhand one-liner that would lighten the mood. Those were his speciality. But he was drawing a blank.

“Alright you guys, let’s head home,” Robin called from the distance. “We’ll figure out what to do next tomorrow.”

Raven remained silent for another moment. She continued to looked down at Beast Boy, then she looked off to the side. It was subtle, but Beast Boy thought he heard her whisper something to herself under her breath.

She turned her back on him and walked away.

He crawled back to his feet on his own.

No one turned back to help him up.

#teen titans #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #beast boy #raven #dc

6 notes · View notes

bangtanfancamp · 6 years

Text

the Devil wears Gucci-Part 3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Masterlist

▪︎series Masterlist

▪︎Kim Taehyung x reader(featuring Kim Namjoon)

▪︎1.7k words

•Enemies to lovers au, fashion industry au, loosely devil wears Prada au, f*ckboy au, fluff, romance, angsty banter

As the dedicated personal assistant of the genius mind behind House of RM, the empire that rules the fashion industry, your world is turned upside down the day Namjoon personally asks you to train his newest hire- the eternally insufferable opposite Kim Taehyung.

(Not my photo. Credit to vantaeholic)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Tae’s lunch || Tae’s POV)

I used one of my fries to poke the others around my plate, trying to figure out how I’d screwed this up all ready. I know I tend to joke around a lot, but it always seems to put women at ease. Things go better when they’re laughing. And whose day isn’t better for being flirted with?

I just had to work for the one girl who got pissed off by it. Everyone likes me. So what was the problem? Even the women at the cafeteria here liked having me smile at them or tell them how beautiful they were. Women liked that kind of attention, right?

Everyone goes through their day trying to impress the world around them, but everyone else is so wrapped up in themselves that they never even see them. I see it. I see how long the girl who took my order spent trying to cover up her freckles with her makeup, so I told her how cute they were. I saw how tired the woman who gave me my change was so I told her how much her eyes sparkled in this light. I noticed how nervous that cute girl across the office was so I smiled at her. What was so wrong with that?

Why did ____ have to look so disgusted with me all the time? I was just having fun. Life is hard enough anyway. People want to laugh. People want to be told they look good. And so what if I get a date out of it or someone invites me home. We’re all adults and we’re allowed to have fun. No one needs to be that serious all the time. And God, she worships that maniac, doesn’t she?

She got so mad when I mentioned it though. I thought girls liked talking about their crushes, but... maybe ____ is more private than I thought. Maybe I took it too far. It’s just so infuriating how she talks about him. She’s just so wrapped up in praising god Kim Namjoon- she made it so obvious that she had a thing for that egomaniac. I thought she’d finally laugh with me or at the very least blush and elbow me in the ribs, but she looked….i don’t know. She looked hurt. I think I crossed a line I didn’t mean to.

God, it’s barely been a day and I’d wrecked the only good part of this job. I noticed her the second I walked into that office. She got to me in 2 seconds flat. That hair, those legs, the way that skirt hit her curves- it made want to wrap my hands around those hips and bend her right over that jerk’s desk. God. I was already gone the second I laid eyes in her...

But then when she looked at me and I saw her face….she was beautiful. She’s quick and clever and obviously good at what she does. Everyone here seems to get along with her. I like ____. Honestly, she seems pretty cool. She’s just stuck on that douchebag. But hey, some girls are are really into that whole power and authority kink. Who am I to judge?

I just didn’t think there’d be any harm being vocal about things since everyone seems to think I won’t last here very long anyway. Might as well shoot my shot while I can, right ?

I slid my hips down in my seat and raked my hands through my hair. This place would never be my first choice, but it didn’t seem that bad, I guess.

There were things I’d much rather be doing with my time, but I’d do it for my mom. Anything for her. My stupid uncle in her ear caused this whole mess. At the end of the day, all of this was his fault for meddling in my life anyway.

Chin propped in my hands, I looked out the hundredth set of floor to ceiling windows I’d seen today wondering how long I’d even have this view when movement in the corner of the room caught my eye. It was ____. I felt myself starting to smile just because she was here. Maybe we could get on the right foot now and she’d loosen up a li-wait. She looked like- like she’d been crying. The skin beneath her eyes was puffy, and the light she’d had around her earlier seemed.... dimmer. Her teeth were clenched, her chin set extra high as she walked my way, white knuckling the tablet in her hands. She looked pissed. But calmly so, which was honestly scarier.

Crap, I really stepped in it this time, didn’t I?

I quickly scrambled to stand up from the table, but she pulled out a chair instead and sat down beside me. Folding her fingers together on the tabletop, she cleared her throat and looked up at me, challenge and grit lacing her gaze.

“Have a seat please, Mr. Kim.”

For the first time in a long time, I had no idea what to say, so I followed her instructions.

“I’m glad to see you retained enough information from our tour to have been able to find this place. That’s a good sign at least. If you already have the layout down, I’ll brief you on what a basic day here looks like. Tomorrow Namjoon will be returning from a charity gala in Miami. On a typical morning, he is to be greeted with his hot coffee of choice, typically an extra hot hazelnut latte with an extra shot of espresso. Not two shots. Not three. Just one. Trust me, he’ll know. He despises soy milk and has an almond allergy so no fancy milks unless you’d like to be wearing it as an accessory for the rest of your day. Now that is a normal day, however, when he returns from a red eye flight, he expects to be promptly greeted with the first step of the juice cleanse from the Buddha bliss juice bar down on 7th so he is not visibly puffy during any press work for the day….”

She rattled on like this in detail for the next 15 minutes and it finally started to sink in who the real power at house of RM was-_____. Sure Namjoon pulled the big levers, but she made sure he never fell apart and that seemed like a super power all by itself. She knew every like, dislike, allergy, pet schedule, dry cleaner, exercise schedule, person to kiss up to, person to avoid...And she knew every contingency to tweak things for so he didn’t go off the rails and downsize half a department for their assumed incompetency just because he was sleep deprived and jet lagged off a red eye after being dumped by his latest high profile fling.

Not gonna lie- it was extremely impressive. And kind of hot. I don’t know if I’d ever seen a girl that strategic and smart. She really knew what she was doing. How she managed to be three steps ahead of the world's youngest self made man was a fearsome thing to see. The way she analyzed all these situations made me wonder if she was analyzing me too, but I didn't think on that for too long. She didn’t romanticize him this time. I noticed that. Just laid out all the facts as they were and how to troubleshoot for all of them. It was like watching a master explain chess strategies, and I respected it.

But at the same time, it made me wonder. Just how much of a man-sized brat was Namjoon? it was kind of disgusting how much the man needed to be coddled honestly. How easily everyone accommodated his massive ego. It definitely didn’t help me hate him any less.

“So!” She resolved, tapping a stack of papers against the tabletop to level them out.

“I realize that was probably an onslaught, but you have to dive straight into the deep end to stay ahead here. Any questions?”

“Yeah, just one: what time do you get here every day?” I leaned forward on my elbows, searching her face. She seemed caught off guard by my question, quickly trying to rearrange her expression after feeling like she’d been in control for our entire conversation.

“Just before 7am. I try to beat Namjoon here so I can prepare things for the day. It doesn’t always work though. It’s almost like he sleeps here sometimes.”

“And what time do you go home?”

“On paper? 6pm. In reality? I’d say typically 10 on a good night. Somewhere between 11 and midnight on his particularly temperamental days.”

Holy crap. Was she serious? “Last question.”

“Okayyy…” she pulled back from the table, body language screaming discomfort about where I might be going.

“So, if you’re here- how many days a week?”

“Five.” She answered succinctly, tone clipped. “Unless we’re approaching a deadline for a project- then weekends become mandatory too.” Jesus.

“And any holidays?” I add. Her gentle face is steely and guarded. I wouldn’t trust me right now either, dollface.

“Of course not. But there often is more work to be done than that accommodates so I usually come in anyway.”

“Uh huh. Right. So! Let me get this straight- you know what? for your sake, let’s even round down some. Let’s say, you’re here six days a week, working anywhere from 11-15 hour days. At minimum, you’re working well over at least 15-20 hours of overtime PER week with no vacations— which is not only unethical, it’s illegal. All for the glorious empire of Kim Namjoon. So. Riddle me this-when do you ever get to live your own life?”

Silence.

She dipped and furrowed her eyebrows at me. I could see her lashes fluttering as she scrambled overtime to come up with a defensive answer for me. I settled back in my seat, arms draped behind my head, knowing in some weird way, that I had won.

“You’re beautiful. You’re young. This can’t possibly be the way you want to spend all your time. Tell me-When was the last time you slept in til the sun woke you up? The last time you had a Netflix marathon in a grubby old T-shirt with dorito stains on your fingers and a giant glass of wine? Or! even went out on actual date for that matter? Why are you here wasting your 20’s away in this place running Namjoons company for him and getting none of the credit?”

She gaped, beautiful mouth struggling open and shut like a fish freshly yanked out of the water. I couldn’t tell if she was furious with me or just lost. It didn’t look like she’d ever asked herself that before.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll do my job here. I’ll do what you ask. But do me a favor and think about that. It’d be such a shame to see so much beautiful potential go to waste.” I pushed off from the table to stand. I felt my chest swell- I had the upper hand again. “Now, I believe you mentioned something earlier about finding me a desk space upstairs. Shall we get started on that? I’ll need a pleasing environment if I’m expected to slug through all of Namjoon’s nonsense on a daily basis. The closer to you, the better.” I started to walk away, not waiting for her but knowing in my gut she’d follow. She wasn’t the only one allowed to have a mic drop moment.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Part 4

Series masterlist

Thank you guys so much for reading til the end and visiting my little corner of the internet. I am SO excited about where this series is going. I started writing one of the last chapters first and have been going backwards to figure out what happened to get us there and- you guys- I can’t wait for you to see!! Should I try to come up with a regular upload schedule?? Let me know. ✨

46 notes · View notes

nicolewrites · 5 years

Text

heartstrings - ii

hey it’s been less than 48 hours, but this keeps getting longer and longer. originally should have been a one-shot is likely going to be ~4 parts now. Just a slight warning, some mentions of alcohol abuse and past abusive relationships. Anyways,

part i

Rating: T Genre: Romance Characters: [Vax’ildan and Keyleth] [Percival de Rolo and Vex’ahlia] Words: 6258

Kiki @keylethashari has tagged you in a tweet: New Q&A up and we’re talking music! creds to @vexmachina @vaxmachina @burtreynoldsesq @thelumineers and others!! // CR1 Vaxleth+Perc’ahlia YouTuber/Musician/Celebrity AU

AO3

“So, one more time, if we sign this, then we get complete creative control over our album plus we can keep releasing videos and stay active on YouTube?” Vex asked as she flipped to the second page of the heavy contract before her.

Cassandra nodded. “It’s definitely important that you guys get to keep your brand which is two siblings making videos and singing together. We just want to help you be able to distribute your music. We can hook you up with collaborators or producers or even just get you better equipment.”

Vax exhaled and fiddled with the corner of the contract. “And there’s no rush, right? No pressure on us to have an album out in the next month or anything?”

Cassandra smiled. “Well I figured your first step could be to record some of your more popular covers and release a cover album. It will be a good way to both introduce you to the studio and better quality recording equipment as well as reintroduce the world to the Vox Machina they already love.

Vex and Vax made eye contact. Everything that was being proposed seemed in their favour and Cassandra and Whitestone had definitely been the most respectful of the fact that they had shot to fame so suddenly that they were still adjusting. In all honesty, Vax could have been ready to sign with the label from the first meeting they had, but they did need time to consider all of their options.

Conclave Recording Studios had offered them a much larger signing bonus, but that contract had been riddled with little hooks that robbed them of certain royalties, their creative freedom, and even control over their YouTube channel. That had been an easy deal to turn down, even if the money was a little tempting.

Still, Cassandra had come back with a counteroffer once she learned that the twins were considering other avenues and had presented them with total control, no restrictions on their channel, and a bonus bigger than Whitestone’s original offer, though not quite at the same size as what Conclave was willing to give.

Vex smiled at Cassandra and picked up the pen. “Well, this all sounds perfect to me.”

“I can agree with that,” Vax added as he flipped to the final page.

They both signed their names on each copy of the contract and Cassandra scrawled her name in beside theirs. The beautiful woman who had been lurking in the back of the office stepped forwards and signed as the witness before she clasped her hands and gave both twins a radiant smile.

“I look forward to working with both of you!”

Vax raised an eyebrow and glanced at Cassandra. The record owner smiled and patted the beautiful woman on the back. “Vex’ahlia, Vax’ildan, this is Zahra, the publicist I previously mentioned. She’s in charge of my most important clients and I know you’ll love her.”

Zahra grinned widely. “I can already see that the two of you will sell as you’ve managed to prove that yourself with your channel.”

Vex stood up and held her hand out for Zahra to shake. “Well, darling, I’m sure it will be a pleasure to work with you as well.”

Zahra winked at Vex. “Aren’t you charming! I can see what Percy likes in this one for sure.” Vax rose to his feet and gave Cassandra another curious look. He glanced back at Zahra who was leaning against Cassandra’s desk, still smiling. “You know Percy?”

Zahra waved her hand. “Entirely too well. He used to be my client before I passed him off to the very capable hands of my friend Vanessa. Plus, I’ve been working with Cassandra for a while and you don’t work with one de Rolo without seeing the other at every turn.”

Cassandra shrugged. “Well, I can’t deny that, I am having lunch with Percy today. You are welcome to join us if you’d like, Vex, Vax.”

Vex smiled. “I’d love to, but don’t tell him I’m coming, I’d like to see the look on his face when I just appear.” Vax shook his head. Typical Vex’ahlia. He slid his phone out of his pocket and smiled faintly, an idea flitting across his mind. “I have to pass, but this has been a pleasure.”

The three women in the room shrugged and returned back to easy conversation as Vax opened a new message.

[Vax] so i know this is probably a little last minute, but how’s today for that raincheck from Scanlan’s.

The reply was almost instant.

[Keyleth] oh you are alive aha. today is actually perfect for me. what did u have in mind??

Vax had seen enough of Keyleth’s videos to know that she absolutely adored the vegan lunch place on 6th Street. When he had suggested it, she had sent him four texts of incomprehensible gibberish to show her excitement. Vax had simply smiled and excused himself from Cassandra’s office, calling an Uber as he went.

When he arrived at the restaurant he decided that this place was exactly the type of place he would expect Keyleth to frequent. It was decorated with dozens of plants and succulents as well as some casual bohemian decorations. It almost reminded him of the room she often filmed her videos in, so it made sense. He had managed to beat her there, so he stood on the curb, hands in his pockets as he waited.

He waited for seven minutes before a car pulled up and she flew out of the backseat, smiling like crazy. Her red hair was tugged into a ponytail and she was wearing denim overalls with a floral blouse. Her eyes twinkled as she caught sight of him and she pulled him into a tight hug. Vax hugged her back and caught a strong floral whiff that was probably perfume, but he liked to think that Keyleth, the radiant ball of sunshine, just naturally smelled like flowers.

“It only took us two months to reschedule this thing,” Keyleth laughed as she pulled back, leaving her hands resting on his shoulders.

Vax shrugged. “Self-employment is incredibly difficult,” he said teasingly.

Keyleth retracted her arms and smiled at him. “Very funny.” She looked up at the restaurant and smiled. “Have you been here before?”

“Melora’s Garden? No, I haven’t. I actually stole the idea from one of your videos.”

Keyleth laughed and Vax immediately wanted her to do it again. “So you do watch my videos.” Vax smirked. “I’ll admit to that when you admit to watching ours.” “Vox Machina? Only one of my favourite channels lately.”

“Come on, let’s eat. I have news.”

Keyleth linked their arms and pulled him through the front door. “News?”

She turned away briefly to motion to the hostess that they needed a table for two, but she quickly turned her bright, curious green eyes back to him. Vax led her, following the hostess, and kept his mouth shut. As they sat down across from each other, Keyleth linked her fingers and rested her chin atop them, leaning forward.

“Come on, don’t keep me in suspense!”

“Well, I’ve been so busy lately because Vex and I signed with Whitestone this morning,” he revealed.

Keyleth’s beautiful smile spread from ear to ear. She reached out and squeezed one of his hands. “Vax! Congratulations! You guys definitely deserve this. Does this mean I’ll finally be able to buy one of your albums and do an entire video dedicated to why it’s one of the best of all time?”

He squeezed her fingers back in return. “Well, Cassandra wants us to release kind of a ‘Greatest Hits’ of the channel album first before we release any original stuff. She said it would be the world’s reintroduction to us as a real music group.”

Keyleth nodded. “I guess that makes sense, but in my opinion, you guys were a real music group the minute you decided to release your first video. Besides, I happen to think the couple of originals you guys have done have been your best work.”

Vax chuckled. “Thank you, but I don’t think we quite have the mindset to record an entire album of originals at this point. Songs like Phoenix never would have even been finished without your help, you know.”

Keyleth cocked her head. “Vax, I gave you like 7 words of feedback total. The rest was all you: the music, the lyrics, everything. You guys made that happen, not me.” She smiled at him again, but it was more tentative, like the shyer Keyleth he’d met at Scanlan’s party.

Before he could reply again, a waitress was filling both of their glasses with water and smiling down at them. “Are we ready to order?”

Vax’s brain stalled. He had been so caught up that he hadn’t even glanced at the menu in front of him. Keyleth seemed to notice his deer-in-headlights expression, and she smiled politely at the waitress.

“I think we need a few more minutes.”

The waitress nodded and bustled off to help someone else.

Keyleth nudged the menu towards him, smiling. “Better take a look before she comes back and we’re still sitting here stupidly.”

Vax chuckled and picked it up. He flipped the menu up and skimmed his eyes over the selection of Buddha bowls. He paused when he realized that Keyleth was just watching him and hadn’t even looked at her own menu.

“Kiki, are you going to order?”

She waved him off. “I’m getting Bowl 7, I already knew that.”

Vax put the menu down and grinned at her crookedly. “I think I’ll get the same.”

Her eyes twinkled as she slipped the menu out of his hands. “Well that’s easy for the waitress, isn’t it?”

Lunch was great. The food was different, but tasted delicious and Keyleth and him were able to keep a steady flow of easy, fun conversation. She talked about her father and her home and how she decided to move to L.A. Vax, in turn, told her the simplified version of why he and Vex left London and how important it was for them to have a fresh start.

Keyleth listened with rapt attention and made insightful and supportive comments whenever Vax struggled to put something into words. Talking to her felt like one of the easiest things he’d ever done, even when he was recounting the worst times of his life. Even though she hadn’t known the struggles he had, she was patient with him and she didn’t assume anything about him or his sister.

He gladly would have sat and talked with her in the restaurant for longer, but as they were finishing their meals, Keyleth’s phone started vibrating with repeated notifications. She frowned and unlocked it. It immediately took her to the Twitter app and Vax watched her face pale as she looked around nervously.

“Keyleth?” he asked cautiously.

She sighed and turned the screen towards him. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

Ashari Army @keylethsashariarmy • 7 minutes ago

GUUUUUUUYS. @keylethashari is having lunch with someone?? They’re at Melora’s and it LOOKS like a date?? Can we get our best investigators on this ASAP.

Vax blinked as he scanned the tweet. It had a hundred retweets and three hundred likes. People were replying, eagerly urging the original account to post a photo. Keyleth pulled her phone away and dropped it into her purse.

She stood up and held out her hand for him to take. He hesitated before he accepted it and let her pull him towards the back of the restaurant. The staff members there looked up as they approached and exchanged looks between them.

Keyleth smiled politely. “Hi, I’m Keyleth Ashari, is the manager here?”

There was a brief scuffle as two waiters slipped into the back and reappeared with an old woman who brightened when she saw Keyleth.

“Oh! Keyleth, dear, what can I do for you?”

Keyleth brushed some hair away from her face and dropped Vax’s hand abruptly. “Uvenda, I think there’s someone here trying to take a photo so I was wondering if you would be able to charge my card for the meals and let us leave out the back?”

Uvenda nodded immediately. “Of course. Just come with me this way, alright?” For the first time, the old woman turned her eyes to Vax and the soft, affectionate look she carried for Keyleth vanished in favour of a much more suspicious, guarded look. “And you are?”

Keyleth’s hand slid into his again. “Uvenda, this is Vax.”

The old woman raised an eyebrow and smirked a little. “Of course. Anyways, right this way dears.”

They were escorted out the rear of the restaurant and Keyleth laughed as they walked through the back parking lot to the next road. She glanced back at the restaurant and giggled.

“That’ll teach them to ruin my dates.”

Warmth spread through Vax’s stomach. “A date?” Surprise shuttered her features and he laughed. He stepped up, draping an arm over her shoulder. “Don’t worry Kiki, I’m not some internet fan reading too much into things. This was two friends out for lunch.”

She beamed radiantly at him. She ducked out from under his arm and danced away from him, twirling as she laughed. “God do I ever miss freedom and anonymity though,” she said, glancing back at him.

Vax slid his hands into his pockets and watched her. She was as radiant and as beautiful as the sun, even if she could be awkward and goofy and shy. She was alarmingly human and charming and he knew exactly where her popularity stemmed from. And he understood her. Her charms and her stumbles and her desire to have one uninterrupted afternoon.

She paused in her step and glanced down at the pavement, where her shadow was cast across the pavement. A sly smile slid over her face. “Hey, Vax, come here for a minute.”

He stepped up next to her so their silhouettes were aligned. She slid her arm around his waist and gave him a side hug. She paused and snapped a photo of their entwined shadows before she stepped back. She tapped something out on her phone before she slid it back into her pocket, beaming.

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t I get to see?”

“You’re following me, aren’t you?”

He shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile as he pulled out his own phone to check Keyleth’s Twitter account.

Kiki @keylethashari • Just Now

Sunny days are the best days!! #shadowart | at Melora’s Garden

The tweet was accompanied with the picture she’d just taken of them. Fans were already filling up her replies, demanding to know who she was posing with. Vax smiled at her over his phone and she gave him a gentler, bashful smile.

“It’s okay, right?”

He nodded. “I’d like it, but that might give people the wrong impression.”

Before he could say anything else, his phone vibrated with a text.

[Vex] Percival and I are going for drinks on Friday.

[Vex] Get on my level, darling

Vax smirked as he typed out his reply.

[Vax] Check Twitter, Stubby.

There was a long moment before Vex replied.

[Vex] OH SHIT so thaaaat’s why you bailed on lunch. Well.

Keyleth cocked her head at him. “Vax?”

He pocketed his phone. “I believe I was promised a full day of adventures, no? Lunch is one thing, but you must have other favourite parts of the city to show me.”

Vax was on the couch watching a fail compilation that Keyleth had sent to him, when his twin senses started tingling. Obviously, there was no way that it was actually a thing, but Vex and Vax had both always been very reactive to the approach of each other, so one night Kima had called it twin senses, and the name had stuck.

He looked up just as the door opened and Vex walked in. She was wearing an emerald green blouse and black skirt and her lipstick and dark hair were just the tiniest bit mussed, but it was enough to know that her date with Percy had to have gone at least mostly well. To his surprise, Vex didn’t even glance his way as she headed straight for the kitchen.

He rose carefully and followed her, stepping over the heels that she kicked off on her way there. He walked into the kitchen and found her measuring a generous amount of gin into a glass before topping it off with club soda. She sipped it with what could almost be described as anger, and Vax furrowed his brow.

“Stubby?”

She spun so fast that she almost dropped her drink. “Jesus, Vax, you scared the shit out of me.”

“You walked right past me. I was in the living room,” he said. Despite his initial impression that her date went well, wariness crept along his mind. “Weren’t you just at a bar?” he asked, gesturing to the heavy drink she was holding like a lifeline.

Vex pursed her lips. “Can’t exactly get drunk on a first date, no matter how charming the movie star is.” She gulped down more of the drink, furrowing her brow at the bitter alcohol taste.

Vax stepped past her and poured himself a drink, sipping it slowly. Vex drained her drink quickly and snatched the gin from him as she poured another, not even bothering with the soda this time.

“Vex?” he asked carefully. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “I’m fine, darling, just some paparazzi that interrupted a moment I would have rather been private, but I suppose that’s what I get for liking the charming movie star.”

Vax took another slow sip of his drink. “Oh.”

She waved a hand at him. “Since you’re hanging around Keyleth a lot, you must notice that her fans are absolutely rabid. Percy’s like that, except they’re all major magazine headlines.”

“And you told him you were uncomfortable?”

She laughed. “He was more uncomfortable than me. We’re having dinner at his place on Wednesday as so to avoid such things next time.”

He nodded. “Well, I’m glad you had a good time.”

Vex glanced between her empty glass and the bottle once more before she smiled tentatively at Vax. “I like him, Vax, I really, really do.”

Vax tucked his arm around her and hugged her. “I’m glad.” He paused, not wanting to overstep. “For the record, I like him much better than-”

“That’s not hard,” she said sharply, cutting him off. Drunk, honest Vex’ahlia was gone and she had been replaced with the guarded, colder version of his sister that came out anytime she spoke of their last year in London.

Vax frowned, but he let it slide. He managed to wrangle the bottle away from Vex and get her in bed, but as he stared at their liquor cabinet, he couldn’t help but feel it would be better entirely empty permanently.

The ringing of his phone woke him up the next morning. He rolled sideways, grabbing it and staring at the screen. He raised an eyebrow, but answered it quickly.

“Shaun?”

“I’m assuming she hasn’t seen it yet, has she?”

“Seen what?” he asked. He sat up and rolled his shoulders. He rubbed his eyes and adjusted the phone at his ear.

“I’ll send you the link, just give me a moment.”

His phone buzzed with a text and Vax switched to speakerphone so he could open it and stay on the call. Gilmore had texted him a link to a tweet by the Hollywood Reporter.

Hollywood Reporter @THR • 9 hours ago

‘Light of the Night’ actor Percival de Rolo caught locking lips with one half of YouTube pop-folk duo Vox Machina.

The tweet was accompanied by two photos. The first was Vex and Percy looking cozy and happy at some bar and the second was Percy planting one on Vex as her arms locked around his neck. Vax cursed.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then,” Gilmore replied carefully.

Vax sighed. “I should go make sure she doesn’t lose her shit. Thanks for the call, Shaun.”

“Of course.”

Vax hung up the phone and bolted out of his room. To his surprise, Vex was already awake, pacing around the living room in an oversized sweater as she spoke urgently on the phone in low tones. She looked a little surprised when she saw Vax, but she just gestured to her phone helplessly and he nodded.

Vax headed instead for the kitchen and started a cup of coffee. The pot was almost completely done brewing by the time Vex strolled in after him, looking more exhausted than she’d been in a long time. Vax didn’t say anything, he just held his arms open and let her walk into them, resting her head against his chest tiredly.

“Zahra and Vanessa are working on spinning those photos. I’m honestly not that bothered, but Percy isn’t happy.” She paused looking up at him, a small smile on her face. “He wanted to keep this between us for a while.”

“He seems serious about you,” Vax commented, still carefully watching Vex’s face.

She shrugged and withdrew from him. “I guess so,” she replied noncommittally.

Vax held in a sigh. The tinge of vulnerability and emotion Vex had shown was back behind layers of practiced smiles and charm. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know how to get her to admit it. He wasn’t sure where this was stemming from as all the time they’d spent in L.A., he had yet to see her looking like this.

He poured her a cup of coffee instead and tugged on the end of her loose braid. She grumbled and swatted at him, but at least he got a genuine smile out of her for it.

Vax was feeling oddly nervous as he walked across the lobby of the apartment complex. He’d been here a few times before, but this felt different. He made eye contact with the security guard who waved him towards the elevators with hardly a second look. Vax stepped into the clean elevator and punched the button for the 14th floor. He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked onto his toes as the elevator ascended.

The doors opened and he let his feet guide him to apartment 1417. He knocked on the door and waited for a long moment before the door swung inwards. Instead of the freckled face and green eyes of Keyleth like he’d been expecting, Vax was met with a man he didn’t recognize at all.

The guy had sharp features and brown hair that hung just lower than his ears. The stranger raised an eyebrow at Vax and shifted his weight before he stepped back from the door and motioned for Vax to enter. Vax stepped in cautiously, still eyeing the man with mild confusion.

“Kash, who was at the door?” Keyleth called from further in the apartment.

Vax walked through into her living room, accompanied by the man apparently named ‘Kash’. Keyleth looked up from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She beamed when she saw Vax.

“You’re a little early aren’t you?”

Vax shrugged. “Like five minutes.”

Keyleth giggled and stood up. She crossed the room and wrapped him in a hug. She smelt like flowers again. She stepped back and looked from Vax to the other man. She straightened suddenly and laughed.

“Wow I forgot you two haven’t met yet. Vax, this is Kashaw, my publicist. Kash, this is Vax’ildan, he’s one of Zahra’s clients.”

Vax glanced at the other man who had visibly relaxed as he nodded. “You’re part of Vox Machina, right?” Kashaw inquired, crossing his arms.

Vax nodded. “Yeah, that would be my sister and I.”

“Zahra thinks you guys have got the stuff to make it big,” Kash said.

Vax raised an eyebrow and glanced at Keyleth. She rolled her eyes. “As you can tell, Kash is definitely a ball of sunshine who is brilliant with people. But, as you probably couldn’t tell, he’s engaged to Zahra and they both work together at the agency.”

Vax glanced at Kashaw again. His brain really couldn’t seem to process the fact that this guy was engaged to the bubbly, enthusiastic manager/publicist Cassandra had introduced Vex and Vax to. It seemed almost comical to align the two in his brain.

“But, we’re not here to talk about Kash and his terrible people skills. We’re here to make a video!” Keyleth said excitedly.

Kashaw nodded. “Well that’s my cue to leave. Remember what I said, right Keyleth?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’ll be mindful of what we share. It’s not a live stream so we can always edit out anything that doesn’t fit.”

With that, Keyleth’s publicist vanished and Vax heard the apartment door shut behind him. Keyleth immediately grabbed Vax’s arm and pulled him to her couch where they sat side by side. She stared at him.

“You’re sure you want to do this, right?”

Vax smiled. “Kiki, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to.”

She nodded. “Well, I know, but usually you and Vex are a packaged deal, so I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with singing on your own and stuff.” Vax laughed. “If you were anyone else, I would say no, but it’s all good.”

She smiled. “Well then, let’s start, shall we!”

She stood from the couch and moved into the armchair across from him. She fiddled with something on her camera before motioning for him to move over so he was out of frame temporarily. She hit the record button and moved into position on the couch.

“Hello everyone! Welcome back to Variety Thursdays where I make whatever kind of video feels right!” She smiled charmingly. “I know people have been begging for another collaboration video and for another one about music, so I have decided to deliver on both of those fronts.”

She pointed at the camera. “Now, last time I made a music video, I talked about my favourite groups including one that I’d just discovered through my good friend Scanlan Shorthalt. I’m happy to say this video has changed a lot of things for me, including the fact that I’m not just raving about the incredibly talented Vox Machina to a camera since,” she paused, reaching over to grab Vax’s arm so she could yank him into view, “I’m actually sitting here with half of Vox Machina as we speak!”

Vax smiled for the camera and looked back at Keyleth. “Your video opened a lot of doors for us, so really, I think I should be thanking you for everything.”

She bumped their shoulders together. “Nonsense. You and Vex are crazy talented so I’m definitely a big fan of yours.” She grabbed the stack of papers from the coffee table. “Let’s get to the whole point of this video! The people want to know you! Of course they know me, but let’s talk about the mysterious YouTube Twins who just popped out of nowhere with crazy vocals.”

Vax shrugged. “Vex is the singer. I play guitar mostly. But, if you’re asking, we moved here from London about 5 years ago for a couple of different reasons. The channel is actually due to pressure by a close friend of ours, Shaun Gilmore, who thought we were talented enough to get somewhere.” He looked more closely at the camera. “So Gilmore, I guess we owe you a bigger thanks than previously given.”

Keyleth beamed at him. “And you and I started chatting after I talked about you from Star Search, and we’ve become friends since then.” Vax smiled. “Honestly Keyleth, I really think we ought to credit Scanlan and Pike a bit more. They’re the whole reason I didn’t chicken out of talking to you since they invited Vex and I to that party where I literally crashed into you.”

“Yes, of course, we cannot forget the contributions from the others that actually taught me how much of a dork you are in real life.”

“Hey, you’re the one who snuck us out the rear of that restaurant.”

Keyleth smiled at him and for a moment Vax forgot the cameras were rolling because she was all he could focus on. She was an absolute natural and she made him feel at ease even though he could still get nervous in front of the cameras for his own videos.

“So can we talk music then? Because you guys just announced that you’re signing with Whitestone Records, right?”

Vax nodded. “Yeah, Cassandra has been great to work with and Vex and I are really excited. We decided to produce some of our best covers first and do kind of a ‘best of the already released gems’ for our first outing, but we’re definitely not a one-trick pony. The channel isn’t going anywhere and you can definitely expect more original content in the future.”

“Oh my gosh, please let’s talk originals because Phoenix is amazing and so is Victory Lap. We know that you wrote most of Phoenix and Vex is the genius behind Victory Lap, so is there anything you can tell me for a hint?” She cast the camera a sly glance. “Well, I guess me and the people who’ll be watching this video.”

Vax looked around jokingly like he was looking for an eavesdropper. “Well, I guess, since I already cleared this with Vex, we can talk about something I’ve been cooking up.” He cleared his throat and Keyleth beamed.

“A pretty girl picks up the pieces that the world said would never be masterpieces,” he sang gently. “She spins gold from the rubble, breaks away from all of her troubles. And she climbs, and she climbs, and she reaches for mountains of glory. She is glory. She is beauty. She is powerful, wonderful, swinging for the fences because she’s not going down without a fight. Step back stranger and watch out, she shines bright.”

When he finished the verse, Keyleth was staring at him in awe. Vax instantly felt subconscious. He wasn’t used to being so free with his voice, especially without his trusted guitar, but he really liked where Bright was going. It had a similar message to Phoenix, but it came from the heart and that made it true. He had written that part, obviously about Vex, while she had written the next lyrics about a boy who wore the shadows as a cloak until he finally chose the spotlight.

“Vax, that was beautiful! I cannot wait for it to be done, and I absolutely must be the first person you send it to, okay? And that’s definitely not a request, it’s a demand. Everything you and Vex write is so powerful and deep. It’s beautiful.”

He gave her a small half-smile. “Thanks Keyleth, you’ll be the first on my list to know.”

She knocked their shoulders together and smiled brilliantly. “Good. Now let’s get to this game I made because you’re either going to love it or hate it and I can’t wait to see which one.”

A week later, and it was finally time for Keyleth’s video to release. Vax was hanging out at her apartment again as Keyleth finished lining it up in her queue. She clicked one more thing on her computer and looked up at him.

“It’s ready!”

Vax sat up from where he was sprawled on his couch. “Twitter time?” She nodded, snatching her phone and typing away. After a moment, Vax’s phone buzzed with the notification. He opened it so that he could retweet it and craft his own message.

Kiki @keylethashari • Just Now

It’s Variety Thursday again and I finally decided to talk music again and this time I brought on my friend @vaxmachina! Check it out and give Vox Machina’s channel a sub when you’re done! youtube.com/watch?v=huYiNbw

He retweeted Keyleth’s message and wrote up his own tweet.

Vax @vaxmachina • Just Now

Made a video with @keylethashari the other day. There’s singing, some laughter, and some other good stuff. Check it out -> youtube.com/watch?v=huYiNbw

Keyleth laughed and looked at him. “Eloquent, aren’t you?”

“Vex is the social media wizard, not me. Besides, it gets the meaning across, doesn’t it?” “Hm, I guess it does.” Keyleth paused heavily and held eye contact with him.

After several seconds of fighting off a smile, he cracked and they both burst into laughter.

Vax got home much later that night than he’d intended. He had ended up helping Keyleth cook dinner as they goofed off and had a good time. He figured that Vex was either asleep or out with Percy so she wouldn’t mind him being out so he even let Keyleth talk him into watching the Little Mermaid with her before he finally headed home.

He unlocked the door quietly and stepped into the apartment. “Vex’ahlia?” he called cautiously.

There was no immediate response so he assumed that she was out somewhere. His assumption was almost immediately proven wrong as he stepped into the living room and saw her. She was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in her lap as she stared blankly at the wall.

Vax cursed under his breath and hurried to her side, kneeling next to her. He grabbed the bottle from her and planted a hand on her shoulder. “Vex’ahlia, what are you doing?”

She snapped her head to him and tried to snag the bottle back, but he lifted it out of her reach. “Give it back, Vax,” she said sharply.

He sank to the ground next to her. “Vex, talk to me, please,” he begged. “Something is going on, I know, but I can’t help unless you talk to me.”

“I don’t need your help. Just give me the damn bottle.”

“No. And I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, so you can tell me or we’ll just sit here until we’re old and ugly.”

Vex was silent next to him. Vax didn’t say anything as he waited for her to speak. Something was definitely wrong and he needed her to open up to him so that he could help her. When she still said nothing, he exhaled slowly.

“Vex’ahlia, you’re my twin sister. I love you and I want to be there for you. When you’re hurting, I’m hurting too, so please, just talk to me.”

She exhaled shakily and looked at him. Her eyes were wet and full of shame. “Everything is going great, I’m just being stupid.”

He guided her face up so that she would look him in the eye. “Nothing you ever do is stupid, okay? Just talk to me.”

“It started on Instagram. We were just gaining momentum after Keyleth’s first video and I was feeling better than I had in a long time. This random account followed me and kept leaving these horrible comments and direct messaging me all of these hurtful things. It started out as just general insults, but they started hitting closer and closer to home until I realized the truth,” she broke off, her shoulders trembling.

Vax hugged her tightly and she took a deep, calming breath. “The things that this account was saying were things they never should have known. Personal, dark things that I left behind in London.”

Vax knew what she was going to say next before she said it. “Saundor,” he breathed. “He’s been harassing you this whole time?”

She nodded mutely. “And I just couldn’t block him, couldn’t get him to stop, because every time I tried I would be back to that scared, horrible girl in London who couldn’t get out of a bad place until my entire world was turned upside down.”

“Vex’ahlia, look at me.” She did. “He is scum. Nothing he says carries value because you are radiant and beautiful and stronger than everything he could ever throw at you. He is the biggest blemish you’ll ever have on your life and it’s okay for that to still hurt. Your vulnerability is your strength because it makes you passionate and strong in the face of everything you’ve survived. We left him behind in London, and let me reaffirm for you, he is going to stay there.” She was trembling next to him, so he pulled her into a tight embrace, resting his head atop hers. “I love you so much, Stubby, and nothing he says will ever be true or make me think any less of you. I’m going to block him for you and if you want, I think we should go to the police to make sure he can’t get in contact with you again. But, if you aren’t ready, that can wait, and we can just focus on getting you sober and back to the radiant, wonderful woman that I know. The one we all know.” He kissed her hair. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she replied weakly. “I love you, Vax,” she murmured softly.

“I love you too, Vex, so, so much. Don’t ever forget that.”

He pushed the whiskey bottle to the side and ignored his phone as it vibrated with new messages on Twitter from his and Keyleth’s video. He hugged his sister tighter and murmured words of comfort until she felt safe enough to drift off. He would be there for her to make her feel safe and loved until she could step out of the dark, horrible shadow that Saundor had left on her life.

8 notes · View notes

ikesenhell · 6 years

Text

Chosen One

ALL SHADES OF BLUE, Chapter 3. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Thank you so, so, so much to @nyktoon-ikemenlove and @daeva-agas for sharing SO MUCH USEFUL INFORMATION ON KENNYO AND HIS HISTORICAL CONTEXT. It has been wildly appreciated and helpful. Though it’s kind of hilarious to think of people calling him Saint Kennyo pfffffft

They packed up camp with the sort of well-practiced haste Kennyo had grown so used to. No idle hands hovered around the paths. Fires were doused and strewn with leaves, bedrolls tucked away, what meager possessions they had tucked into bundles and sacks and thrown over heavily-laden shoulders. With unspoken stillness they slipped away in different directions one at a time. All the better to evade detection. With any luck, they would be so spread out in their movements that no one would detect their new location until it was far too late.

Kennyo went last. He always did. So often his men begged him to reconsider, but their lives were important. Until the last man took the long walk down the hillside, he remained.

Today happened to be a perfect time for that. He was alone when he heard the crunch of leaves underfoot, soft footfalls back up the mountain path, and he swiveled to find her poised at the edge of his clearing.

“Wow,” she commented. “You guys really cleared out. I can barely tell you were here.”

“You came back.” Something swelled in his chest. “I didn’t think you would.”

“Why not?

He didn’t answer that. Instead he reaffirmed his hold on the staff and shook his head at her. “I have only a minute. After that, I must take my leave. You cannot follow me.”

Of late he’d grown used to disappointing others. Even so the flicker of hurt lingered in her eyes just a little too long for his comfort. “I wasn’t going to stalk you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

She quirked a brow. “Did you just copy my catchphrase?”

He had, hadn’t he? He took one long moment to assess the situation. “Why did you come back?”

She shrugged--a hollow, empty thing, much too simple for the depth he knew hung behind it. “I sort of missed being out here. I thought I might come and visit a while. You know.”

“And Date Masamune, I presume, doesn’t know you’ve come.”

“He encouraged me to, actually.”

Kennyo absorbed that with no small measure of confusion. What a bizarre development. Did he think she would take advantage of his kindness and learn his secrets? Was this an attempt at subterfuge? He squinted at her, but then she shrugged the bag off her shoulder and held it out to him.

“I brought you something.”

“A gift?”

“Kind of. It’s some rice. You all didn’t have much, so I bought some in Azuchi.”

Damn it. Damn his weakness. Damn his soft heart and his faithlessness.

“If you’d like to accompany me for a walk, I could spare some time.” He paused. “We would pass through some local towns. After that, I’ll have one of my men see you back to Azuchi. I cannot take you to my new encampment.”

Her expression brightened immediately. “Yeah. That’s fine. I’d like that.”

He took her satchel wordlessly, fixing it to his belt despite her small protests. It wouldn’t do to let her carry anything all that way. “Come then. Let’s look at the surrounding area.”

---

Masamune was taking tea in his office when Mitsuhide all but let himself in.

“Your pet project went on a little outing today,” he drawled idly.

“Good morning to you, too.” He smirked up at his associate (he couldn’t exactly be called a friend--friendship implied a kind of openness he really wasn’t certain Mitsuhide was capable of). “Yeah. I know.”

“Have you any idea where she went off to?”

He just shrugged and set a letter to the side, the ink still wet, and fished around for his setting powder. “Did you come just to talk about her?”

“Mmm.” Evasive as ever, Mitsuhide settled beside the desk and produced some reports in lieu of an answer. “She certainly has a fixation with Kennyo, doesn’t she?”

“Fixation? I dunno. He’s just some crazy monk.”

For once Mitsuhide made his expression plain. He stared, bewildered and wide-eyed at Masamune. “I thought you were religious.”

“I am.” He puzzled over that, picking up his tea for a long sip. “Why?”

“You didn’t realize? Not once?” Mitsuhide nearly doubled over with sickeningly jubilant laughter, setting his head against the desk to compose himself. It was almost so terrifying that Masamune considered calling for a physician. “Not at all? You didn’t connect the dots to it being that Kennyo?”

Oh. Oh. The teacup dropped from his hand, shattering all over the freshly written letter and spraying the other man.

“The Monshu?” Masamune staggered over his words. “The living representative of Amida Buddha? The head of Hongan-ji? That Kennyo?”

“Who else, you absolute lunatic?”

“Oda Nobunaga stabbed the living incarnation of Buddha in the face?” He almost yelled, too thrown to contain himself. “I thought it was just some Kennyo! Some other monk, I don’t know! He--I thought it was someone else! I expected--I expected a light or something--”

Mitsuhide lapsed into uncontrolled laughter once more, slumping back against the tatami mats. Oh no. Realizing all at once the danger their chatelaine was in, he flung himself onto his feet and charged from the room.

---

She didn’t talk about living with the Oda, which he mentally thanked Amida Buddha for. He didn’t know if he could handle that--not on the road again, on the road for the thousandth time, wondering if he ought to bring his power down harder on his enemies and still uncertain til the last. Instead she talked about her sewing.

“I didn’t take you for a woman that sewed,” he commented. “It’s a useful trade for certain, but I didn’t think you had the… inclination.”

Her wry smile was something he’d sorely missed. “I told you I was more eligible than you thought.”

“I stand corrected indeed.”

She told him about the small room she had set aside in Azuchi. Apparently she was a good speaker; he found his mind wandering with her along the slender hallways into a sunny chamber. The tatami mats were as clean as expected in a sewing room. He saw the wide space she’d set out for cutting the fabric, bolts of silk stacked in neat piles and arranged by color and pattern. He saw the bundles of thread that she’d arranged in the window to catch the light, their fibers luminous in the midday sun. Rays leaked in through the paper screens, or the wind blew through in torrents when she thrust it open to soak in the imperfect storm of air. He couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like bent over her work. Did she arrange those expensive metal pins in her mouth in dangerous rows, each gritted between her teeth and used in orderly precision? Did she shake out her hand after long hours cutting pattern pieces? Did she change out the candles before they guttered entirely, staying up long into the night like he knew she did, or did she wait until only the moon filtered through that untamed hair and shone against her neck that stayed too, too, far too exposed to men like him?

He wondered for one dangerous moment if she knew how much she shone. Each of the earrings in her ear (seven--seven, he’d counted them, each ridging the inside of her left ear in places he’d never imagined one might put metal, only two on the other side in large glass pieces that were smooth as porcelain) flitted and flashed in the sun and he asked himself if she knew she resembled the night sky washed gold in light.

“What are you thinking?” She asked him finally, that smile working over her mouth.

“About your sewing room,” he lied, and finally turned his head from her. “Your sentences are transportive. What of your sewing room in the future?”

Her smile faded until it was nothing at all. “I don’t have one.”

That surprised him. “No?”

“No. I can’t afford it. That money goes to rent.”

Landlords. He sucked on his mouth in distaste. It figured that the feudal system hadn’t disappeared in five hundred years. “I see. No patrons will fund your work?”

She pinned her lips between her teeth in a barely restrained laugh at his expense. His heart warmed for it. “People don’t pay for that in the future. Not really. You can go to shops and just buy anything you want for clothes in a split second. They’re all ready and waiting for you. It’s too expensive to buy custom stuff.”

He tried to wrap his mind around it. “Like vegetables?”

“I--” She halted in her footsteps and absolutely cackled. In that same moment he realized just how ridiculous that sounded.

“‘Like vegetables’,” he repeated, judging himself immediately. “Buddha granted me patience, not wisdom.”

“Oh my god--” That didn’t help. She laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks, squatting in the road and gasping for breath. At long last he couldn’t help it and joined in, graceless and hardly able to keep standing. “Like vegetables.”

“Not my finest moment.”

Eventually they could breathe again. She dusted off her knees and straightened her kimono, trying to adjust her obi and failing, and finally he took pity on her and adjusted the tie with his own practiced hands.

“You’re not accustomed to wearing this, are you?”

“Not in the least. I never wore one before.”

He smoothed the wrinkles from the fabric and they pressed on together, entering the first small township. It wasn’t so long ago that he walked these sorts of streets openly, was it? How odd it was that he came through with no disguise at all. At the very least it seemed unlikely that he would be recognized.

How very wrong he was.

A small group of farmers, still muddy from the paddies and tired from a hard morning of work, slumped into the main road. Kennyo excused himself to the side to let them pass, concealing his staff in the fold of his robe. For a moment he thought he might pass as a simple traveling monk. He had in the past. But no--not this time. One of the men halted in his tracks, an old man with graying hair and a weathered face, and gawked openly.

“The Holy Kennyo!” He gasped.

“The what?” Her eyes immediately snapped to his.

Too late. The man dropped to his knees and prostrated himself before him, the other villagers rushing to join him. One of them began crying.

“Please.” He answered, gentle as could be. “Please rise. You are doing me too great an honor with your reverence. I beg you to stand. You’ve done far too much hard work in the fields today to drop to your knees before me.”

The man who recognized him didn’t move from his bow, so Kennyo finally dipped low and caught him under the arm, forcing him to his feet. The others followed in turn, still murmuring their gratitude to Amida Buddha.

“Please join us for a meal,” he entreated. “We don’t have much here, but we would gladly share.”

“I could not possibly.” Besides, what would happen if he lingered too long? What wrath would Nobunaga inflict on this humble town if he knew the villagers saw him and said nothing? “Your kindness was hospitality enough. I must be on my way; I am escorting this young woman and I am afraid I cannot be swayed from my current course.”

They all nodded and bowed and assured him it was no trouble, they would gladly serve him if he ever returned, and for his part he lead them all in a quick and humble prayer of gratitude to Buddha, and when they left the town she immediately rounded on him.

“You’re the what?”

“It’s…” He fumbled through his words. So apparently he could handle a crowd of devoted admirers, but a simple explanation to a friend evaded him? “I am the Monshu of Hongan-ji. Rather, I was.”

“What does that mean?”

“Do the teachings of Jodo Shinshu not survive in your age?”

“I imagine they do,” she answered, “I don’t know personally. Lots of people are Buddhist, though. I just don’t know what any of that means.”

“I had the honor of being the leader of Hongan-ji,” he answered simply.

“And they believe you’re Holy?”

“Yes.” How embarrassing was this? “Many believe me to be the living incarnation of Amida Buddha.”

She fixed him with a single long, penetrating stare. Whatever it was she held on her tongue, she didn’t dare say it at first.

“So…” A pause. “How do you feel about that?”

How did he feel?

He didn’t realize he’d halted until he saw her peering intently in his eyes. When was the last time someone asked him how he felt about that? How he felt about the throng of ardent worshippers, the press and plea of those desperate for something better, the adoration of those he’d never even laid eyes on?

Never. Never before had he dared to ask the question to himself. It felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford.

“It’s a great honor to be the eleventh of my line,” he recited. “And I have devoted myself to Amida Buddha and their boundless karma.”

“Great answer for the public, bad one for me. I’m not so easy to get to lay off.”

“If only you were,” he groaned, only half-honest.

“Do you think you’re the living incarnation of Amida Buddha?”

“You have a habit of shooting straight to the core of something, don’t you? Hasn’t that gotten you into trouble in the past?”

“Oh yeah. All the time.” She shot him an impish grin. “More times than I can count. It’s a very bad habit.”

Unable to resist, he teased back, “I thought you said you were suitably eligible. I’d say that cancels out your sewing talents.”

“Ooh, sharp, aren’t we? I feel like I’ve hit something raw, so I’ma back off for now.”

“‘I’ma’?”

“It’s a slang version of ‘I will’.”

“Ah. ‘I’ma’. Interesting.”

The gravel road crunched beneath their sandals comfortingly. Wind swirled around her hair and cast his own in his eyes, tickling his nose in a way he still wasn’t quite used to, and he wished he could brush off her inquiry so easily.

---

She returned to Azuchi late, and Masamune was still pacing in the hallway when the doorway swung quietly shut behind her.

“Hell,” he murmured. “You’re finally back.”

“Sorry.” She even bowed, which was frankly a strange look on her. “I went on a long walk around the surrounding area.”

“You’re lucky no one tried to kidnap you again. What were you thinking, Kitten? Could’ve gotten hurt by bandits or something.”

“You’re starting to sound like Hideyoshi,” she prodded gently. “Thanks for your concern. I’m just fine. I had an escort.”

The idea of one of Kennyo’s (the Kennyo, the Holy Kennyo, Saint Kennyo) fanatical lackies showing her around made his skin crawl. He’d had enough incidents with them in Oshu to distrust and need their cooperation in equal measure. “Alright. Have you eaten?”

“Kind of.”

“Come on. Let’s get something in you.”

She followed him to the kitchen without resistance. Fixing back his sleeves, he dipped straight into the barrel of rice he always kept for such occasions, poured water in a pot, chopped some vegetables with neat precision. Her eyes tracked his every movement. In the first weeks she’d tried to help him, but with enough assurance that yes, he really enjoyed every step of the process, she’d finally let it alone.

“Here.” It was an easy meal. He set the rice balls and stewed vegetables in front of her, laying the chopsticks directly in her hand. “I want to see you eat all of it.”

“Yes Mother,” she teased him, popping the first carrot in her mouth and chewing with relish. “I appreciate it.”

He settled down across from her and tucked into his own bowl of rice. For a long time nothing but the delighted sound of her chewing filled the space between them. But no--now he needed to have that uncomfortable conversation with her, so he pushed back the rice bowl and cleared his throat.

“Gotta talk to you about something, Kitten, and you have to promise not to hate me for it.”

“Alright. What’s this about?”

“Kennyo.”

Her expression faltered and shuttered the way that Mitsuhide’s or Ieyasu’s would. “Alright.”

“I didn’t realize who he was until today. Dumb of me. I get it. Were you aware he’s that Kennyo?”

She shook her head. “Not until today.”

“Right. Well, that kind of complicates things, Kitten. If it were just some monk then no, it isn’t a big deal for you to visit and hang around. I wasn’t so worried when I didn’t realize who he was. But now…”

“What’s so bad about him?” Her inquiry was serious. Did she really not know? “He’s pretty nice.”

“It’s--you gotta understand, Kitten.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh. “You know that practically everyone in Japan reveres him, right? He wields the kind of power that Nobunaga wants to have. Samurai would up and die for him. Monks would up and die for him. Villagers would die for him. If he snapped his fingers--and I don’t know why he hasn’t, and that scares the hell out of me--then half of Oshu could riot underneath me.”

Her eyes were round as sake cups. With a heavy sigh, he took her empty plate and chopsticks. “I don’t wanna kill your mood. I’m sure they were just fine to you. The fact that you were just fine is heartening, but… Kitten, you gotta understand. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

The soft exhale of her breath was all that greeted him. She was a thing of fire and wind and iron, a wave crashing restlessly against the immovable wall of a cliff, all the elements tangled together at once, but--but now she was just a woman, their Chatelaine, their little lucky Princess, and for the first time he wondered if she could always look so sad.

“I know,” she answered.

“Atta girl.” He checked her under her chin. “Face up, Kitten. I promise we’ll give you something to do.”

Ceramic clacked together comfortingly in the sink as he sudsed them up. All at once she was by his shoulder, dipping his empty bowl into the water alongside her dishes and scrubbing it out.

“Ah, come on, woman. Let me just do this.”

“No.” She set her stubborn jaw at him and he snickered at the sight. “I’m going to do something for someone, damnit.”

#Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen Masamune #Masamune Date #Ikesen Kennyo #Kennyo #my writing #Date Masamune #ASB #All Shades of Blue #Chosen One #Fluff #History #So much history #So much religious context

76 notes · View notes