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queen-scribbles · 11 months

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Everything In Between

Recovery is a process, and it’s rarely an easy one. A good support system helps, and progress is progress, even when it’s measured in inches.

Since AO3 is under siege I’ll go ahead and post the tumblr version of my @mebigbang story; Emily Shepard/Kaidan Alenko Post-Destroy ending, rated T, 19k words with art from @captainderyn you can find here. (I know tumblr isn’t optimal for reading something so long. There will be an AO3 version soon as the site’s working again. I just wanted to get it posted since Deryn shared her wonderful art ^^)

---

The landscape racing by outside the shuttle’s windows was by turns untouched and a jumble of cratered earth or building wreckage. It was dizzying and all but impossible to keep up with the switches back and forth.

Still, it was better than staring at the pristine, manicured grounds of the rehab center another day. Beautiful as they had been, it got very boring to see the same limited surroundings for three months.

Dull pain flared at the small of her back, and Emily shifted to ease it. The movement jolted Kaidan from his thought and he turned much as the cab’s restraints would allow to shoot her a concerned look.

“You alright, Shepard?” he asked, reaching a hand over toward her.

Emily nodded as she intertwined her fingers with his. “Just a little ache. Dr. Ahn warned that might be a problem sometimes as the nerves heal. It’s gone now, must’ve just been the way I was sitting.”

He studied her for a prolonged moment before squeezing her hand. “Just so you know, Em, while you’re living under the Alenko family roof, you have carte-blanche to complain when things hurt. Or ache, or itch, or anything. I know a lot of people have admired your perseverance and strength--hell, I’m one of them. But you don’t have to just... power through this.”

“You’re sweet, Kay,” Emily smiled and cautiously leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Nothing protested the move, which was a good sign. “But it really was just a twinge. Too long in one position, I guess.”

“Not saying it wasn’t, just letting you know that when it isn’t just a twinge you can be honest.”

“You want me to whine at you, Alenko?” she teased.

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he replied with a shrug and a smile that made her heart flutter like a teenager on a first date. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

“Good to know,” Emily said with an answering smile. They lapsed into silence for a few moments, and she watched more landscape pass them by before speaking up again. “You sure your mom-”

“Mom has been in her element getting things ready for you to move in when the Bailey Center discharged you. She loves cooking, she loves hosting, and she loves you.” Kaidan laughed. “She’s overjoyed at the thought. Just be prepared for her to interrogate you about yourself, our relationship, and probably a few things about me she doesn’t think I’ll answer honestly.”

“Are we talking ‘how often you get migraines’ type not honest or ‘downplaying your talent and contributions’?”

“Both, probably,” he sighed, but a faint smile tugged his lips.

“Consider me warned,” Emily said. “It’ll be nice to talk to someone who’ll truly appreciate when I sing your praises.” She grinned. “With the added bonus of being able to ask for baby stories.”

Kaidan gave an exaggerated groan. “Oh, c’mon, Shepard.”

“Hey, you have my mom’s contact details, you’re free to retaliate in kind,” she pointed out, laughing.

“Really? You won’t mind?” He arched a skeptical brow. “And she’s not too busy?”

“No to both. Even if she is busy with... everything” --a vague wave at the Reaper aftermath out the window, thoughts straying to her mother and Garrus’ efforts to track down the Normandy-- “she’ll make time to talk to you, babe. New audience for baby stories. And I dunno, I like the idea of you hearing ‘bout all that. Even the embarrassing ones, like when I got bit by a snake and screamed my head off the whole way to the hospital.”

“You already told me that one, remember?”

“Oh, right,” she chuckled. “Mom’ll have to pick a different embarrassing eight year old story to tell you.”

“Looking forward to hearing it,” Kaidan teased. “’Specially since I’m sure my mom will think of at least a few to share with you.”

“Looking forward to it,” Emily echoed with a smile as the cab started to slow. Relief fluttered at the sign they were almost there; her back was starting to cramp. Her gaze flicked out the window to a massive house set at least a half mile back from the road on what had to be a couple acres. “Good grief, Kay, is that-?”

Kaidan followed her gaze. “Oh, no, that’s not us.” A few beats passed as the cab kept moving, then he pointed out the opposite window. “That one’s us.”

The rancher was set closer to the road, only slightly smaller than the one Emily had indicated, and--in her opinion--much nicer. It was designed in a rustic, classic Earth style that would have looked just as at home nestled in the woods or on a mountainside as it did here. The stacked stone exterior was largely shades of grey, though an occasional smear of light or reddish-brown did appear. Cheerful brick red shutters flanked the two windows, though clearly decorative as one of the windows faced out over the covered, wrap-around porch. The walkway up was large, well-set flagstone, edged with simple but very pretty tiered garden beds.

Of course, the tall woman with grey streaked hair and an infectious grin waiting on the porch was a bit of a distraction from examining the house, gorgeous as it was.

Emily laughed and nudged Kaidan with her elbow. “I think you’re right; she’s just a little excited about this.”

He chuckled at the grin on his mother’s face as the cab came to a stop. “Ready?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, biting back another laugh.

Kaidan climbed out of the cab, waved to his mother as she started making her way out, and retrieved Emily’s wheelchair before circling to her side of the cab.

She was, as promised, ready for him; restraints undone and already extending an arm for him to help her out of the seat. The transfer was a bit more awkward from a vehicle than a hospital bed, but they still managed it without Shepard banging her head, so she was satisfied.

Kaidan’s mom waited, hands in her pockets and grin still tugging her lips, while they settled with the driver. “Glad to see you made it safely, didn’t get caught in any red tape.”

Emily laughed. “No, it was surprisingly smooth. I think their waiting list for beds is long enough they have the discharge process ironed out better than a dress uniform. Don’t want anything getting screwed up and causing delays.” She held out an arm to invite the hug she knew the other woman wanted to give. “It’s good to see you, Rae.” The last few days of getting ready to move here had meant a lapse in their usual visits.

“You, too, Emily.” Rae bent to give her a warm hug. “Harmony’s inside. I think she wore herself out running around to smell everything.” She chuckled and patted her hair as she straightened. “Never seen a dog’s tail wag that hard before. She decided the house was safe and curled up in Tom’s favorite chair for a nap.”

Emily winced apologetically. “We can keep her off the furniture-” She is a therapy dog, not a pet. Just used to sleeping on the bed when Emily’s nightmares got bad.

“No, it’s fine. She’s keeping warm for him,” Rae said, waving a hand in a dismissive reassurance, slight catch her voice.

“Thanks for taking care of her, Mom,” Kaidan interjected, stepping forward to hug her as well to distract from the looming specter of his missing father. “Would have been a bit cramped to bring her with us.”

“No problem, honey.” Rae returned the hug tightly. “Been too long since we had a dog in the house.”

“You used to have dogs?” Emily asked as they parted and the three of them started for the house, Kaidan skillfully maneuvering her wheelchair along the curved walkway. There wasn’t so much as a rattle to the wheels from the flagstone, they were set so smoothly. And Emily clocked the newness of the ramp covering the low steps up onto the porch itself.

“Not at this house, but for a while, yes. The company was nice with Tom deployed and this one at... training.” Rae tapped Kaidan shoulder.

Emily didn’t comment on the pause, even as her thoughts instinctively filled in BAaT. “Glad Mo’s behaving for you,” she said instead.

“It would have been a handful to manage her and Emily and the bags,” Kaidan agreed. “And this way she got to familiarize herself with the environment before we arrived.”

“Oh, she’s very familiar,” Rae said with a laugh. “But I’m sure she’ll still be happy to see you.”

Her prediction proved correct; the rust and cream Australian shepherd lifted her head and barked as soon as they entered, scrambling down to come greet Emily.

“Hey, girl,” Emily crooned. “I hear you approve of this place. She tipped her head back to look at Kaidan. “Which is good, because I definitely like what I’ve seen so far.”

“Is that an unsubtle hint you’d like a tour?” Kaidan asked with a chuckle.

“I’ll start working on dinner while you two take care of that and settle in,” Rae said, peeling off to the side. “It’ll be good having you around, Emily.”

“Obviously, that way’s the kitchen,” Kaidan said, slightly deadpan. “But we’ll let Mom work while I show you the rest.”

“She likes to cook?” Emily asked as the muffled clatter of kitchen paraphernalia reached them and she caught a glimpse of Rae shuffling dishes.

“Loves it,” he confirmed. “She’s the one who taught me. Basics at least.” He pushed the chair forward. “She’ll appreciate a chance to get things going before we roll through, so we’ll save that for last.”

“I get that,” Emily nodded. “Meal prep looks more impressive once you’re really involved opposed to at the beginning. Nice living room,” she commented, looking around. He’d told her the house was spacious and hadn’t been exaggerating. The living room alone was almost as big as some of the housing she’d stayed in as a navy brat. A couple couches and almost half dozen armchairs--all very comfortable looking--were spread throughout the room. A couple sets were grouped together for intimate conversation, but all had enough space around to be easily accessible. It made her wonder if there’d been some rearranging once they’d agreed she would live here after the Bailey Center discharged her. But she kept that thought to herself and admired the large bay windows and skylights that made the room seem even more open than it already was. “Amazing view,” she said, catching a glimpse out one of the windows.

“Wait til you watch a sunrise or sunset, it gets better,” Kaidan said with obvious pride in his voice.

They reached the far end of the living room and started down the hallway. It was wide enough--Emily noted with relief--for another person to squeeze by her wheelchair, so she wouldn’t block things up for Kaidan or Rae if she was having trouble. This part of the tour went quickly; four bedrooms counting the master suite, three bathrooms, a home office at the end of the hall. There were doors from both the office and the living room that opened onto a deck which spread between them and continued around the outer corner of the living room to join the front porch. It granted a full view of the sprawling orchard and the sky that allegedly produced gorgeous sunrises. Light filtered in through the hall windows, adding to the open feel of the house. The decorations were understated, cozy, and it instantly made Emily feel at home.

She eyed the office door that led to the deck. “Could I get a better look at that view? Before your mom wows us with dinner?”

Kaidan laughed. “Sure.” A couple taps at a waist high keypad and the door slid open. Emily propelled herself out, Kaidan following close behind.

“That is just...” She couldn’t even find a word that did the beauty of it justice. And it was near-untouched by the Reaper forces; a minor miracle, in her opinion. Only a few deep-scored lines across distant fields and one demolished silo on a neighbor’s property evidenced the destruction that rocked the rest of the globe. Maybe thanks to be a good distance from population centers, maybe for some other reason only the Reapers knew that was now lost with them. “Wow.” Emily cocked her head to look up at him. “You grew up here?”

Kaidan shook his head. “Nah. It was still my grandparents’ place at that point, so I got to visit, but we didn’t live here. They passed ownership to Dad when he retired. I’ve gotten to spend more time here as an adult than a kid, which just means enjoying it differently.” He rubbed the back of his neck, just below his implant, then flashed a smile. “Didn’t appreciate the sunrises as much back then, that’s for sure.”

“You’re setting a real high bar for them to live up to, Kay,” Emily teased, maneuvering closer to the railing

“And they will,” he laughed back, leaning with his forearms braced against the rail beside her. “With a few off days, maybe, but for the most part.”

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the view, the quiet, the company, until Emily’s omnitool beeped.

She pulled herself from thoughts of how much she loved this place already and how settled Kaidan looked with a sigh as she called up the display.

“Everything alright?” Kaidan asked, turning to brace his hip against the rail.

“Yeah.” She skimmed the message. “The confirmation for my PT schedule set-up.” Chewed her lower lip. “Physical therapy sessions on Tuesdays and Fridays at ten with Laura, since she’s been my tech from the beginning of my time there. Every other Wednesday check up with Dr. Ahn for the next few months--time slot for that might shift a little-- to monitor my progress, then those can be less frequent.” She wrinkled her nose as she closed down the omnitool. “Assuming I’m making enough progress, I guess.”

“You will be,” Kaidan said with casual confidence she wished she shared. “You want to see your room before we make our way to the kitchen for dinner?”

“You mean I’m not bunking with you?” Emily teased. “Not sure how I should take that, babe.”

Kaidan chuckled and deadpanned, ”Mom didn’t want to presume,” even as his eyes twinkled.

A snort of answering laughter bubbled in her chest. “You mean the same woman who asked if I wanted to skip straight to calling her Mom the first time we met?”

He was grinning as he helped her navigate back inside and closed the door. “It’s also the only bedroom aside from the master suite with an attached bathroom. We figured that would be easier for you.” He bent and kissed the top of her head. “Nothing stopping us from sharing a bed, though.”

“Good point.”

The room was nice; sparse on furniture to minimize obstacles, windows onto another gorgeous view, hardwood floors with one firmly anchored area rug. The bed looked extremely comfortable, especially compared to the hospital one Emily had been occupying until today. She almost couldn’t wait to go to bed, but the smell of dinner wafting down the hall was too tempting to skip.

Mo hopped on the bed between the pillows, expecting sleep to be the course of action.

Emily laughed and snapped her fingers. “Dinner first, girl.”

Mo jumped down with a small whine and followed them out to the kitchen, then curled up under the table while Emily and Kaidan chatted with Rae and dinner finished cooking.

This was going to be the one tricky room to navigate, Emily noticed. The island in the middle of the cooking portion made the turns tight and didn’t leave a lot of clearance for her chair. She could make it work, but it would take more focus than the rest of the house.

Not like I’ll be cooking at all, she thought glibly, sharing the house with two people who are actually good at it.

Bearing that out, dinner was delicious, and very relaxing, and they chatted for a while longer before Emily was tired enough to turn in. Kaidan helped her get changed, do the stretches her physical therapist had recommended for at home, and get situated in bed.

He kissed her forehead as he helped arrange the blankets how she wanted them. “Sweet dreams, Em.”

She smiled at the sentiment hiding behind the light-hearted comment and caught the collar of his t-shirt before he could move away. “Cute.” She pulled him in for a full kiss, her hand curving the back of his neck as his fingers slid into her hair. “And sweet,” she added when he pulled back. “My favorite combination.” Her thumb rubbed softly against the corner of his jaw and she offered a mischievous smile. “You wanna sleep over tonight?”

Kaidan laughed and rested his forehead to hers. “Sounds good to me. Let me help Mom clean up dinner” --stole another quick kiss--”and I’ll be back.”

“It’s a deal.” Emily pulled him in for one more kiss before letting go, turning her attention to Mo as Kaidan left the room. The dog had settled in along the side of Emily’s leg, her head resting on Emily’s hip. “You think I’ll manage to stay awake til he gets back?” she asked through a yawn. Worn out by a shuttle ride and dinner, oh how the mighty have fallen. She knew Kaidan would chastise her for that line of thought; she was recovering from serious injuries and nowhere near a hundred percent yet. Of course things were going to be more draining right now, and that was okay. Now if she could just believe it as easily as she could hear him reminding her of it.

Mo huffed, her tail lightly slapping against Emily’s ankles. She almost thought she felt the contact, which would have been some very encouraging progress, but it was probably wishful thinking. Even with how much the nerve damage had healed, most days at PT were fifty-fifty if she’d feel Laura’s hand on her leg even without clothing in the way. It was highly unlikely she’d felt her dog’s tail through a blanket.

Would be nice, she thought as she leaned back and grabbed a datapad novel from the nightstand, trying once more to curl her toes and once more unsure of her success. Someday, she promised herself.

Hopefully someday soon, but much like the reconstruction they’d passed, it would take the time it took. For now she’d pet her dog, read her book, and try to stay awake until Kaidan came back.

---

Dinner was already half cleaned up by the time Kaidan reached the kitchen.

“Mom, I was gonna help with that,” he protested, gently but forcefully taking the pots she held and heading for the sink.

“You don’t have to. You’ve done a lot helping Emily get settled, and I know today was a lot for you. Both of you,” she emphasized before he could wave it away. With him stationed at the sink, she returned to sealing containers of leftover food to put away. “How’s she doing?”

“More good than bad,” Kaidan said. The hot water prickled against his knuckles as he filled the pots and reached for a dishcloth. “It helps that both the doctor and physical therapist have said things look promising for recovery to continue and she’s making good progress. Considering.” Considering she almost died. Again. Considering I found her buried under what felt like half the Citadel.

“Mm. You know those can go in the washer, hon,” his mother pointed out, tipping her head toward the soapy-water filled pots.

He shrugged, already cleaning. “I like the hands-on approach.”

She leaned against the island and watched him for a long moment. “And how are you doing?”

“Me?” He arched a brow as he glanced at her. “I’m fine, Mom.” It wasn’t even a half-truth; it had been almost a week since his last migraine, and while he was maybe a little short on sleep from the final rush to get things worked out for Shepard moving in, it was nothing a few days sleeping in couldn’t cure.

“I know you, Kaidan,” his mom said with a soft laugh, “You throw yourself into whatever you do. Especially if it involves helping people.” She came to lean against the counter by the sink. “Extra especially if it involves someone you care about. I know you love Emily, and I’m happy to have her here.”

“But?” Kaidan prompted, setting one clean pot aside for drying so he could start on the other.

“Less a but, more an and,” she said wryly, grabbing a towel to dry the clean pot. “And I’m happy to help where I can. And I’m sure Emily would want you to take care of yourself, too. And we’ll gang up on you if we think you’re pushing to close to burnout.” She grinned. “I have a feeling she knows the signs even better than I do.”

“You’d be right there.” He finished with the second pot and passed it to her for drying. “She’s also very... persistent about making sure I take care of myself.”

“Good. I knew there was a reason I liked her,” she said cheerfully. She finished drying the pots in faux innocent silence.

Kaidan waited her out, wondering with amusement how long they could push it.

Only until both pots were returned to their hooks, apparently. “So, when are you planning to propose?”

“Mom!”

“Kaidan,” she returned, not at all deterred by his tone. “I see the way you look at each other. The way you interact. I know you love her and she loves you.” Her expression sobered. “And I know what losing her once did to you. Can’t see you wasting a second chance.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgement, a cold shiver running through him as he tried not to dwell on how close he’d come to losing her again, the days spent digging through wreckage as hope dwindled and desperation grew. “I don’t plan to.”

“So when...?”

“Not sure,” Kaidan admitted, rinsing some plates before loading them in the washer. “I wanna make sure she’s happy here, see how therapy’s going...” He huffed a laugh. “I don’t even have a ring yet.”

“You don’t?!”

“We were a little busy, Mom!” he laughed, flicking water in her direction. “Not a lot of time for ring shopping when you’re saving the galaxy from annihilation.”

She chuckled and flicked him back with the dish towel. “Alright, fair. I’ll have to find a couple days in my schedule to ‘give you a break’ so you can go ring shopping.”

“Em likes you already, Mom, I’m sure she’d enjoy spending time without you being underhanded,” Kaidan teased. He caught the towel when she tried to flick him again and dried his hands. “But I will take you up on that. Thanks.” Not that he ever thought he’d need a break from Emily, but it was the best cover he’d get to go pick out a ring.

“Not a problem, honey.” She smiled wistfully, running her thumb back and forth over her wedding band. “You two are good together, I’ll happily contribute to you having what your father and I do.”

They’d been ignoring that elephant in the room all day; might as well ask. “Heard anything yet?”

She shook her head, cleared her throat. “Nothing solid yet. Nothing promising, either. His unit was in an area that got hit real hard, and it’ll take them a while to sort out dead, injured, the un-ID’ed of either. And the comms are out, so until that’s fixed it’s a long delay on hearing news even after the ground forces know.” She let out a slow breath, and her eyes were shiny when she looked at him. “They’re still presuming KIA, and it’s very tempting to just... go along with it. Believe the worst at this point. Just for a sense of closure. But I’ve chosen optimism and I plan to keep hoping until someone gives me a solid reason I shouldn’t.”

“I know that feeling,” Kaidan muttered, pulling her into a hug.

“Better than you’d ever want to, I suspect,” his mother chuckled. He pretended he didn’t hear it wobble. “So you know I’ll appreciate the distraction of distracting Emily.”

He nodded. “Mm-hm.”

She squeezed his arm as she stepped back. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem, Mom,” Kaidan said with a smile, and headed off to bed.

Emily was, as expected, asleep when he got there. He moved the datapad she’d been reading back to the nightstand and nudged Mo just a little to make room. Emily mumbled in her sleep and burrowed close against his side the second he climbed in bed, which made him smile as he drifted off.

---

Emily’s therapy schedule meant she had another day to settle in and relax before she had to go back for a session. She took full advantage; practicing how to navigate the halls, rooms, and out on the deck as independently as possible. She didn’t want Kaidan feeling like he needed to hover. He could say he didn’t mind all he wanted, mean it with all his heart. She wanted some measure of independence in her current circumstances, and, realistically, no matter how good the last week had been, he would get slammed by a migraine eventually. It was just a fact of life. Emily both needed and wanted to be able to at least mostly handle herself on such a day. She was fine accepting help, very aware of her limitations, but wanted to maintain some self-reliance. She also didn’t want Kaidan feeling guilty he couldn’t help her on top of a migraine that would have him curled up with his head under a pillow in a dark room.

There was also plenty of time to relax, chatting with Rae, sitting on the couch with Mo, or the deck with both Kaidan and his mother. He promised to show her more of the orchard when they had the chance, and Emily was happy to say she’d hold him to that.

It had her in a very good, very calm frame of mind when they went to her PT session the next day. Kaidan seemed in a good mood as well as the two of them lingered over morning coffee and got ready for the day.

It was when he laced his fingers between hers in the cab that she finally said something. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Had a good night’s sleep and got to share it with you,” Kaidan said. He hummed a small laugh. “I’ve missed that the past couple months.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Emily said, squeezing his hand. Hospitals and rehab centers weren’t known for letting loved ones share a bed with their patients. Even for galactic heroes. Part of her knew it was probably just a bubble that would burst sooner or later , but it almost seemed having him next to her helped ward off nightmares. She enjoyed it regardless. “I’d gotten real accustomed to havin’ you to snuggle.”

He smiled. “And I’m real used to being snuggled.” Something out the window caught his eye. “Oh, they’ve made good progress...” Emily arched a brow and he explained, “There’s a memorial, pretty big deal, that took a lot of damage from the Reapers. They’re repairing it, but it was pretty messed up and it’s been slow going. We took a different route out to the orchard the other day, so it’s been a while since I’ve seen their progress.”

Their conversation turned to various bits of clean up and reconstruction they could see for the rest of the ride. The topic took Emily’s thoughts to her own ‘reconstruction’ and she almost asked Kaidan’s opinion on that, as well. Everyone--Laura, Dr. Ahn, the nurses, even Garrus and Kaidan himself--tended to focus on ‘the prognosis is good and you’re making progress’ as a response when the subject came up. Different words sometimes, but same message. She understood the desire for optimism, and had even repeated the same mantra to herself and others. But she’d really like some naked honesty from Kaidan, at least. Maybe she’d ask when they got home.

Emily’s omnitool pinged just as they arrived, and she pulled up the alert while Kaidan pushed her inside the building. She frowned and quickly dismissed it after a glance, but Kaidan must’ve still picked up on the shift in her mood.

“What?” he asked, slowing by the reception desk to check in.

“Journalist wants an interview. I’ll have to think of a polite but firm way to say no after PT.”

“If they start bugging you too much, we can always put up privacy blockers.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t want to make people jump through hoops to get in touch with me, but if the vultures are already circling...”

“Next will be the talk show hosts,” Kaidan joked. “You know you’re a big deal, sweetheart.”

“I don’t wanna be,” Emily grumbled as they headed down the hall. “I’m just... me.”

“Shouldn’t’ve saved the galaxy, then,” he deadpanned. “That’s a real attention grabber. But I’ll help fend off the vultures, don’t worry.”

“My hero,” she said lightly, reaching back to pat his hand.

Laura was waiting when they reached the therapy room, studying something on a datapad. She looked up at their approach and smiled. “Hi, Emily, good to see you. And you, Kaidan. Everything go well with moving out?”

“So far, so good,” Emily confirmed with a nod. “Still new, but definitely a good arrangement.”

“Good to hear,” Laura said. She briefly raised the datapad. “I was just reviewing your latest scans to see if I need to tweak our regimen any. They look good,” she added, before either could ask. “The swelling around the L-3 vertebrae is just about gone. The venous plexus is taking longer to heal, which tracks with what they recorded at the hospital, but it’s also progressing. I did note some signs of muscle atrophy in your thighs, so we’ll have to do some more intensive upper leg work to stave that off.”

Emily nodded even as she fought off a grimace. The lower leg home exercises were markedly easier--she could even manage some solo--so it made sense her upper legs would be at higher risk for atrophy. This was where the annoying part of her recovery would come into play--while movement was taking longer to return, she was definitely getting the feeling back in her legs. She’d be acutely aware of every painful stretch, every muscle ache, and still the best she could do was curl her toes. “I assume that’ll mean a change to the home exercises, too?”

“Yep. At the rate you’re healing, we might be able to start working on weight bearing in a month or so, but only if we keep the atrophy at bay.” Laura set aside the datapad and cracked her knuckles as she stood. “Let’s get started, yeah? I’ll explain the new stuff as we go.”

---

By the time they finished, Emily was sweaty, tired, and sore. But she could feel being sore, and that was an improvement. Kaidan helped her shower when they got home and she promptly took a nap on the couch, one hand trailing down to scratch Mo’s ears as she lay on the floor next to her.

It was, unfortunately, a nightmare that woke her, rather than Kaidan, Rae, or just being rested. One of the usual ones; stuck in quicksand and moving horrifically slow as a Reaper’s laser tracked toward a group of fleeing civilians(sometimes it was her friends, this one spared her that). Her biotics spent, her gun out of thermal clips or overheated or damaged, and nothing she could do but watch.

She jolted awake with blue crackling around her hands and her knee jerked up just as a nearby presence registered.

“I’ve got you,” Kaidan murmured, hands on her shoulders to steady her. He didn’t say anything, but she could see it in his eyes. So much for those going away, huh?

That had always been wishful thinking and they both knew it. Emily took several deep breaths, leaning into his chest as she struggled to get her heart to slow. Mo headbutted her hand with a soft whine, eager to offer comfort in distress.

Between the two of them, the parallel and repetition of Kaidan rubbing her back as she petted Mo’s head, her spiking adrenaline faded. “Really wish moments of abject desperation and terror weren’t the only time I got more mobility,” she croaked into Kaidan’s shirt.

“You’ll get there,” he murmured, kissing her head. “I’ll help.”

Emily sat back to give him a shaky smile. “I know. I was just... a few night without the dreams had my hopes up. Guess that was too optimistic, huh?”

“No harm in optimism,” Kaidan said, shifting his perch on the edge of the couch and letting his hand trail down her arm so he could give Mo scritches as well.

“But we also need to be realistic,” she countered, running her fingers through her hair. “Even best case, it’ll be at least a year to work through the physical stuff. And the... nightmares an’ all will likely be longer, prob’ly permanent. I need to learn how to deal with them rather than just hoping they’ll go away entirely. Less frequent is probably the best I’m gonna get.”

Kaidan was quiet a long moment, chewing his lower lip in a way that made her think he wanted to disagree. “We’ll have to wait and see, I guess,” was all he said. “Hope for the best, plan for the worst, isn’t that the saying?”

Emily snorted, gaze drifting out the window.”...Yeah.”

---

Her visit with Dr. Ahn followed the same pattern as seeing Laura; ‘The swelling’s gone down, you’re doing well, here’s things to watch out for, I’ll see you next time’. There was, at least, no nightmare after that one. Even if the appointment felt very boilerplate.

There was another interview request--different journalist--waiting when she was done. She declined it just as swiftly and graciously as the first and didn’t even mention it to Kaidan.

They started settling into a routine; morning coffee with Rae and sometimes Kaidan, the aroma always a help starting her day even when it wasn’t soothing nightmares into normalcy, PT and doctor’s visits on their allotted days, batting away interview or talk show appearance requests that only seemed to increase in frequency, all-too-occasional nightmares or PTSD episodes.

They made it two weeks after Emily moved in before Kaidan had a knockout-level migraine.

She’d been almost expecting it--much like bracing for her nightmares, they didn’t tend to stay away this long. Almost a whole month free of them was a damn miracle, and he’d had a few severe headaches over the past week. (He’d tried to be subtle about popping aspirin, but she still caught it.) She wondered if he’d been bracing for it, too.

He’d opted to sleep in his own bed the night before it hit. He’d only done that twice aboard the SR-2; slept in his quarters rather than her cabin. Both times had been horrendous migraine flare-ups.

Emily was glad she’d practiced moving to her wheelchair on her own. It was a clumsy process, and she banged her knee and almost fell midway through, but she managed. She maneuvered into the hall and stopped by his room on the way to the kitchen to poke her head in.

“Kay?” she stage-whispered, and winced when his head emerged from under the pillow. Not a good sign. “How bad?”

“Twelve,” he mumbled, rubbing his temples.

Oh, hell. That was when she noticed Mo curled up next to him on the bed, as if she knew he’d need the support more than Emily today.

Kaidan shifted, rolling over and starting to sit up. “Did you need-”

“Don’t you dare, Alenko,” she hissed, struggling to keep her voice low but emphatic as she wheeled partway into the room to glare at him, even if he wouldn’t be able to see it with the lights off. “You take care of you today, I’ll be fine.” And if she wasn’t, between Mo and Rae, she’d get there.

It was a true sign of the severity that he didn’t even offer a token protest, just flopped back on the bed with one arm over his eyes.

“I’ll bring you more water,” she said softly. He’d eventually need it, no matter how full the bedside glass was now. “And do you want a hot or cold pack?”

“Cold.”

She left, bumping the door controls to cut down on light from the hallway.

Rae was leaning against the counter, nursing a mug of coffee and watching something out the window. “Woodpecker’s very interested in the tree out front,” she said, half-turning at the sound of approach. “There’s more coffee in the carafe if you want some.”

The toffee-laced aroma was extremely tempting but, “In a minute, thanks,” Emily said as she carefully navigated to the fridge. “I need to get a couple things for Kaidan first; he has a pretty bad migraine.”

“Ah.” Rae set down her coffee. “What did you need?”

“Ice pack and big water bottle.” Emily backed out of the way.

Rae nodded and retrieved the necessary items. She hesitated as she wrapped a towel around the ice pack. “Emily, were... did he get these when he was working with you?”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t really a point to lying, and she deserved to know. “Not often this bad, at least not that he let show, but there were some rough days.”

“He does tend to downplay them, doesn’t he?” Rae snorted softly, setting down the wrapped ice pack and filling a water bottle.

“Annoying habit, when you care about him, even if I get why,” Emily said wryly. “He will tell me if I ask, but I think he sees... pushing through as the trade off for getting off with ‘only’“ --she couldn’t hide the sarcasm--”migraines.”

Rae made a face. “I wish he didn’t.” She sighed. “Want me to take him these so you can get your coffee?”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t mind, and it almost feels fair trade, much as he does for me.”

“You know he-”

“Doesn’t expect things like this, I know.” She nodded, running her fingers through her hair. “I'm doing it less for that and more because I love him, and I hate seeing him suffer like this.”

When I can’t do anything to make it stop. Commander Shepard, Hero of Elysium, savior of the galaxy and solver of humanity’s problems, couldn’t make her boyfriend’s migraines go away. Of course, she couldn’t walk right now, either, so...

“I understand,” Rae said, tipping her head in commiseration. She stepped aside. “I’ll let you get those back to him.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back for some of that coffee.” Emily headed back to the bedroom. Her heart twisted when he didn’t so much as twitch at the door sliding open. “Kay? I got what you asked for, babe,” she murmured, cautiously moving into the room. They’d been sleeping in hers, as it was more open and easier to navigate. She didn’t know his as well.

Kaidan made a soft noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan. “...Thanks.” He shifted out from under the pillow to take the ice pack.

“Let us know if you need anything else, okay?” she said softly, setting the water bottle on the bedside table. “Unless you want me to stay and cuddle?”

“Maybe later...” he mumbled and Emily wrinkled her nose in sympathy.

“Alright, I won’t be far.” She leaned over to kiss his forehead and left the room.

---

It took most of the day before the migraine receded enough he could at least soft-of think straight. In that slow, muzzy, walking-against-the-wind-through-molasses sense that always followed a bad one.

And the first conscious thought he had was he could hear a heartbeat. For a moment, Kaidan thought it was his own, pounding in his ears, and things were going to get bad again. But no, it was the muffled comfort of someone else’s heartbeat.

Someone else, of course, being Emily, her thumb rubbing repetitive--and very comforting--circles around the edge of his shoulder blade. He felt more than heard her breath catch when he shifted.

“Hey, sailor,” she said quietly.

“mm,” Kaidan hummed in response. “How long’ve you...?”

“An hour.” Her free hand combed through his hair, pausing briefly to massage just below his implant before coming to a rest halfway down his back. “Maybe two.”

He was laying on her chest, it finally sank in. The background tingle of her biotics brushing his felt good. “Mmm. Thanks.”

“Of course.” Her thumb continued those wonderful relaxing circles on his shoulder blade. “This was a bad one.” A beat. “Really bad.”

Even in his fugue, Kaidan caught the worry in her voice and shifted clumsily to rub her arm in comfort. “...The bad ones’ve been worse since Mars,” he admitted in a mumble against her shirt.

Emily’s breath caught sharp. “I did wonder...” she murmured. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You had ‘nuff on your plate w’thout worrying about me.”

She huffed a disbelieving laugh. “To Chakwas, you wonderful idiot. Or, I dunno, someone. Garrus, Tali-”

“Did tell Chakwas, others would tell you. Defeats the purpose.”

She sighed in fond--he hoped, anyway--exasperation. “Kaidan...” She paused and let whatever she was about to say die as she ran her fingers through his hair again. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He pressed a half-conscious kiss to her stomach through her shirt and they settled into comfortable silence as he waited to see if the migraine would continue to fade.

---

It took another hour or so before the migraine cleared enough for Kaidan to sit up. Emily spent the whole time rubbing his back and chewing her lip as his words ran circles in her head. The bad ones were worse since Mars. He hadn’t wanted her to worry. Over and over until he rolled away and sat up, rubbing at his temples before he flashed her a crooked smile.

“Hey,” he said, voice rough. “Thanks.”

“You said that earlier,” Emily replied with a smile.

“Did I?” Kaidan huffed a faint laugh. “Bears repeating.” He blinked as if just realizing she was sitting in his bed. “How did you...?”

“I managed. Gotta practice transferring myself anyway, and this was a good day, since we don’t have anywhere to be,” she shrugged, then grinned. “Just glad I didn’t hit you or anything by accident.”

“‘Preciate that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and reached for the half-empty water bottle, which she passed him.

“Garrus called,” Emily said quietly as she watched him. “They have an... 87% positive ID on the Normandy’s signature, which gives them trajectory and speed. So even if this signature isn’t the current position, it gives them somewhere solid to start looking, and numbers to calculate where they likely ended up.” She smiled wryly. “From the sound of it, Joker was pushing past ‘bat out of hell’ for speed, so it still might be a lot of space to cover.”

“...Good they have a place to start at least,” Kaidan said, rubbing his eyelids with thumb and forefinger.

She nodded and they lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

“Kaidan...” Emily bit her lip, briefly wondering if they should really have this conversation now, but too worried she‘d forget if she waited. “What you said, about them being worse and not telling me so I didn’t worry...”

Something flickered in his eyes as he met her gaze, picking through likely-hazy memories to find the confession. “What about it...?”

She pushed against the mattress to life herself and scoot closer. “You know if I think you’re downplaying, I’ll just worry more, right? Wonder if you’re pushing through when you should be resting.”

Kaidan shook his head and took a drink of water. “I promise, sweetheart, I’m always honest when you ask. I can handle a lot, work though pretty bad ones when I need to.” He covered one of her hands with his to stop her nervously picking at the sheets. “I wasn’t ever actively trying to hide anything as I was... hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

She felt immensely guilty she hadn’t checked, regardless. “But why...? I’m always willing to help-”

“That’s why, Emmy.” Kaidan shook his head, wincing slightly as he ran his fingers through his hair.. “I know you. You’d want to help, and there isn’t anything you can do to make them stop, and you had enough on your mind I didn’t want to add to it. Especially if it was going to distract you and increase the chances of you getting hurt.”

A fair point, and she grimaced at the similarity to her own earlier grousing about being unable to help. He did know her.

He patted her hand. “I promise, I only had one or two that bad aboard the SR-2, and you know I tapped out of missions for them.”

He had. Part of her still wanted to worry, be skeptical he’d try to hide things now because he felt like she needed him. But he had always been honest with her, and looking into those whiskey brown eyes, she couldn’t believe he was being otherwise now.

Emily nodded slowly. “Kaidan... You do so much for me. So much. More than I would ever ask or expect, far beyond anything required of a.. a partner.” In this moment, boyfriend felt inadequate. “You are my rock, my shoulder to lean on, my safe place to land.” She cupped his cheek in one hand. “But you’re also human. Let me take care of you every once in a while.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Kaidan promised, covering her hand with his as he leaned in to kiss her. “But you won’t be able to stop me feeling guilty if one of these hits on a day you need me.”

“We’ll make it work, if that happens.” She slid her arm around his neck to pull him in for another kiss. “For now, it’s almost dinner time, you feel like eating?”

“Maybe a little?” He rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Give me a bit to get equilibrium back.”

She smiled and rubbed his back in lazy circles again. “Of course.”

---

Over the following weeks, their routine formed. Twice a week PT with Laura, biweekly appointments with Dr. Ahn to monitor progress. The swelling continued to go down and Emily continued to improve; the feeling fully returned to her legs and she could curl her toes or roll her ankle with concentrated effort. And then less concentrated, just focus. Even the occasional bad day--from her nightmares or his migraines--were only hiccups. Serious ones, sometimes, capable of wrecking their plans. But they got through.

There were more interview and appearance requests, all of which Emily politely declined(less politely, if they pushed). There were a few days Rae shooed Kaidan out of the house or “kidnapped” Emily for a girl’s day. Emily was glad that--after lodging a token protest--Kaidan went along with it. He deserved a break, and his mom was fun to hang out with.

There were sunrises and sunsets to watch, almost all just as gorgeous as Kaidan had promised, and even better enjoyed with a warm drink and his company out on the deck.

There were calls with her mother, with Garrus, Kasumi, even Jack a couple times. All too busy to trek to Canada for a visit, unfortunately, but all happy to hear she was healing and making progress.

It was a state Emily enjoyed as well.

Until the day she wasn’t. Dr. Ahn used kinder, if more clinical, terms to relay the news, but the short of it confirmed a suspicion that had been nagging her for a week and a half.

She’d plateaued. Full feeling in her legs, the movement in her feet and ankles, sometimes brief bursts of jerky reaction for her knees if she concentrated really heard(or was terrified out of her mind). But nothing more. No progress for three straight weeks.

“This happens,” Dr. Ahn assured her, gesturing to the wall screens with magnified images of Emily’s scans. “The swelling is gone, you’ve staved off atrophy. There’s no real physical barrier to advancing; you probably just need to build the muscles back up some more and give the nerves time to recover.”

“Probably?” Emily cocked her head at the careful word choice.

Dr. Ahn sighed and moved closer to showed her the datapad and a few scans that weren’t on the wall screens. One, in particular, which he enhanced, showed the dark shadow of an implant low on her spine. Just above the L-3 vertebrae, in fact. “This had shorted out and was removed by the doctors during your initial recovery, Commander. It’s unlikely but possible it cause some irreversible nerve damage between the removal and its shorting in the first place.”

Damn Cerberus, Emily groused to herself, curling and uncurling her toes. Sure they’d brought her back from the literal dead, but Reaper-infused tech? It was a miracle this was the only one potentially causing problems. Let’s use pieces of the enemy to rebuild our hero, no way that’ll backfire. she thought sarcastically.

Dr. Ahn rested a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “I did say unlikely, Commander Shepard. The human body is resilient and you’ve made such strong recovery in every other respect, I’m fairly certain this is merely a delay, not the end of the road. Something we’ll add to the list of things you’ve overcome.” He smiled. “We’ll give it a few weeks and see.”

Emily nodded. “Right.” He was probably right. He was a doctor, he would know. She’d just been rolling along with such good, consistent progress, a roadblock of any kind was frustrating.

Kaidan let her be moody through the shuttle ride home.

“There’s no shame in this taking some time, you know,” he said as they headed for the house. “You’re not a god, Em.”

“A god wouldn’t have gotten crippled in the first place,” she muttered, picking at a hangnail.

“And that bothers you... why, exactly?” Kaidan asked gently. Rather than enter the house, he pushed her around the porch til they reached the deck and sat in a chair to be on her level.

“Why do you think, Alenko?” Emily stared out over the orchard rather than look at him. “I’m a symbol, an inspiration. Everyone is watching me, everyone has expectations.” And if I get a second chance to give people hope, I don’t want to let them down. The doctor’s words, kindly meant as they were, floated through her mind. ‘We can add this to the list...’ “They think I’m damn near invincible and they want-”

Her omnitool beeped and her glance down was followed by a harsh laugh.

“Case in point; another interview request.” This particular reporter’s fifth attempt. If they tried again she was going to block them.

“That you won’t do,” Kaidan said. She could feel him studying her, even without looking. There was no judgement in in his tone, just curiosity.

“No. They don’t wanna talk to me, they wanna parade around Commander Shepard, savior of humanity, the Citadel, the galaxy. Meanwhile, I can’t go three days without waking up screaming, I flinch at sounds that are actually innocuous, and” --she gestured with a sharp sweep at the wheelchair and her legs-- “don’t think this is quite the picture of inspiration they’re hoping for.”

“You’re still here,” Kaidan said, tone still gentle. “You survived something that would’ve killed just about anyone else and should have killed you. So I see where they’re coming from; Commander Shepard is the personification of human grit and that’s plenty inspirational. But you’re right, they do treat you as something more--and less--than human. You don’t have to agree to any of those requests, I’m not trying to talk you into anything.”

“Then what’s your point?” Emily asked, finally looking at him.

“If you’re gonna avoid them, make sure it’s for the right reasons. Like wanting privacy, or not being ready, or your dislike of public speaking, not because you think you’ll let people down if they see you struggle. You’re allowed to just be Emily, not Commander Shepard. You’re allowed to be human. Rather than a symbol.”

“That’s the tricky part, isn’t it?” Emily scoffed. “People do love their symbols. Don’t think I’ll be escaping that role any time soon, Kaidan.”

“Well, then, I’ll help you deal with it,” he said, shifting closer to take her hand. “Think the second ever human Spectre can take some of the spotlight off Commander Shepard?”

She couldn’t help a giggle. “Not when he’s dating her, but I appreciate the thought.” She pulled him in to kiss his cheek. “I just have to find a way to deal with... all of it.”

“I’ll help.” He kissed the top of her head.

“I figured.” Emily smiled as she sat back in her chair. “And I’ll think about maybe doing an interview...” She’d hated anything that resembled public speaking since before Eden Prime, Kaidan had that right, her current circumstances were just increasing her aversion to being the latest hot topic.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re plenty inspiration as Emily,” Kaidan said, cupping her jaw with one hand as she looked up.

“Quite a bit, actually.” Even if you are horribly biased. She gave a wry chuckle. “Now just pass that along to the media jackals and maybe they’ll leave me alone.”

“Fat chance.”

She gave an exaggerated groan. “Worth a shot, you killjoy.”

She’d probably have to talk to someone eventually, or they’d start trying to sneak into the house--or the Bailey Center. But she’d do it on her own terms. When she was ready.

---

Ready happened sooner than she’d thought it would, partly wanting to get it over with, partly because they caught a pair of reporters lurking outside the Bailey Center after therapy.

“Guess they’re bored of reporting on the reconstruction,” Emily muttered, watching security escort the reporters away.

“Or they figure your recovery counts as part of the reconstruction,” Kaidan added in a similar tone.

Yeah,, that’ll endear them to me. She didn’t really want to reward this behavior, but she didn’t want them harassing other people in their attempts to talk to her. (Which they were banking on, she was sure.) “Kaidan?”

“Hmm?”

“I have six or seven interview requests waiting for an answer, think you could help me pick a safe one to grant?” she asked as they headed out.

“Sure, but you’re a good judge of character, Em,” he said. “You could do it on your own.”

“Call it wanting a second opinion,” Emily said with a sigh.

Kaidan made a noise of understanding, and they spent the ride home vetting requests. It took the whole trip, plus lunch, but they finally settled on one from a local station; a “rising star” named Jenna Marks. She had shared credit on several well done stories, phrased her request respectfully, and was willing to do the interview via vidcall instead of in person if that was easier.

It would be, significantly. Not having to navigate a city, the ability to end the conversation early if need be.

“You know who I’d really trust with this?” Emily sighed once the selection was made, idly circling her finger around the rim of her glass. “Emily Wong.”

Kaidan hummed an agreement as he lifted her legs so he could slide under them to sit next to her on the couch. “I get that.”

Emily toes cramped, and she wrinkled her nose as she worked it out. “She was fair, thorough, we had a good rapport, and she always did a good job focusing on the human element....” Another sigh. Allers wouldn’t even be too bad... “But, since she’s not an option, hopefully this Jenna Marks is a good second choice.”

Her omnitool beeped a couple minutes later with a very eager reporter calling to set up date and time for the interview. They arranged it for the following afternoon, to give Emily time to recover from PT and Marks time to get questions together.

Marks was prompt with her call. Emily appreciated that; the nerves had been building despite the fact she’d chosen this and the woman seemed alright from their brief interactions. Kaidan had perched himself in an off screen corner as moral support and her gopher.

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Commander Shepard,” Marks said, tucking hair behind her ear. “I know there are a lot of people with questions and I’m honored you chose to answer mine.”

“What I can, at least,” Emily clarified, already fighting the urge to pick at her fingers.

“Oh, of course.” Marks adjusted herself in her chair and flashed a professional smile. “First one’s easy-- How are you adjusting to life after victory? You’ve been... very involved in fighting the Reapers for several years, I imagine it’s a bit odd to know you don’t have to anymore.”

“Odd’s one word for it,” Emily said with a faintly scoffing laugh. “While it’s a relief to no longer have that threat, it was a consuming focus for long enough to leave me, um, at loose ends with it gone. It’s actually not all that easy of a feeling to describe; missing the familiarity of something even if you’re glad it’s gone.”

She took a deep breath, still floundering for an adequate description, and caught Kaidan’s nod of encouragement.

“I think I take your meaning,” Marks nodded. “And they are largely gone thanks to you-”

“It was a joint force of every race, working together,” Emily said, trying to hide a twinge of irritation at the minimizing of others’ contributions.

“Spearheaded by humanity, and you in particular,” Marks countered smoothly. “Don’t sell yourself short, Commander. What’s it like knowing you accomplished something that seemed impossible, against an enemy that annihilated more societies than we’ll likely ever know.?”

Emily took a breath. “As I said, it was a joint effort; I’d never have managed without the support of the other races, both Council members and not. Their help was invaluable. But even beyond that” --she shifted in her chair as something twinged in her back-- “those other societies you mentioned who came before us made vital contributions and adjustments to the Crucible.” She held up a hand to forestall the question she knew was coming. “I can’t share details, just that we’re lucky enough to be the cycle that got it working.”

“Credit where due, but it’s not as if a perfect solution was dropped into our laps ready to go, correct?”

“No, it did take a lot of effort from many people; scientists, engineers, soldiers. I’d never want to minimize their work. We only managed to succeed through cooperation.”

“Yes, you did garner some impressive alliances over the course of this war.” Marks checked something on her datapad. “One of the most notable being the quarians and geth. Of course, that didn’t last long, as the geth were destroyed by the same... energy pulse that destroyed the Reapers. Given rising concerns about a truly AI race, and the suspicion with which they were viewed, I have to ask--was it your intention to merely placate the geth until a more... permanent solution was discovered?”

“Not at all!” Emily’s nails dug into her palm. “I was elated about the quarian-geth alliance, despite the high cost.” ‘Shepard-Commander, does this unit have a soul?’ She bit her lip hard. “My only goal in the war and with the Crucible was to stop the Reapers.”

“So genociding an entire race--if one wants to call them that--was what? An unintended side effect?”

“To be frank, yes.” Emily sucked the inside of her cheek. That sinking, naggy feeling she always got speaking in public was getting worse. “I also ‘genocided’ the Reapers but don’t hear anyone complaining about that one,” she said tartly. Kaidan arched a brow at her and she took a deep breath to calm down. “I did not have any good options in the moment I made that call, Miss Marks. I did the best I could in the situation.” While bleeding out, half-dead from exhaustion, and emotionally off-balance from watching a man I loved like a father die in front of me. “I regret the loss of the geth. I think they and the quarians could have done some amazing things working together. It was not something I wanted or considered or planned, my goal through the whole damn war was ending the Reaper threat.”

Javik’s voice rang in her head again. “You think to end this war with your honor intact...”

“Well, you certainly did that,” Marks said. “And the galaxy thanks you, even if the reconstruction and clean up of defunct Reaper forces will take years, it’s still better than annihilation. If you weren’t thinking about the consequences your actions might carry, what was on your mind during that final push in London?”

Kaidan shifted and Emily made a subtle gesture with one hand to say let it go. She didn’t care for the phrasing either, but she was in this now. When--and if--she cut the interview early would possibly reflect just as poorly as the phrasing of Marks’s questions. This is why I hate public speaking. “In a word? Focus.” Emily’s hands clenched. She could almost smell the dirt, the smoke, the twisted and super-heated metal. “I knew we were on our last shot, our last chance, failure would mean death for everyone.”

The memories pressed in. “You did good, child.”

Adrenaline dulling the exhausted headache.

“...stand in the ashes...”

Dodging debris, gunfire, biotic blasts, retaliating with her own. Ignoring the pain in her arm that said something got through.

“You’re under more stress now than during the Skyllian Blitz...”

A vehicle-flipping explosion. Garrus’ visor was cracked, Kaidan coughing blood, more spattered on his armor. “I need an evac, Joker, now!!”

“Don’t leave me behind...”

Emily shook it off with an effort just as Kaidan started to stand. She cleared her throat. “Beyond that? Survival. If we... if we could get someone there, get the Crucible activated, we could win. We could survive the Reapers and ensure no future races needed to worry about them, either.”

“And you succeeded, though at great cost.” Marks glanced at her datapad. “Both general and personally, though rumors about your injuries vary greatly--everything from you walking away with barely a scratch to being crippled--and there’s no official word. Care to change that?” Her genial smile, paired with the hungry look in her eye and after the tone of her earlier questions, had alarms ringing in Emily’s head. It felt like a trap, or the lead up to one. But she had been expecting the question, and at least it wasn’t casting aspersions on her morals.

“Sure,” she said, biting back a grimace that was half at the topic and half at a twinge up her spine. “I’m currently more toward the latter end of that range than the former. There were some comparatively minor injuries--abrasions, bruises, broken bones--that are mostly healed by now. But there was a more serious back injury that means using a wheelchair as I wait for nerve damage to heal. The prognosis for that is good, however, and I’m working with some amazing care providers, so it’ll hopefully be a temporary situation. We’re just taking it one day at a time.”

“We? So you aren’t facing this on your own?”

“Not at all.” Emily smoothed a wrinkle on her pants, taking the moment to cool from knee-jerk irritation at the implied thought none of her friends would help her. Marks was fishing, and she wasn’t even being subtle about it. Inexperience of youth for you, Emily thought dryly. She even knew what Marks was likely fishing for. But it was another thing she’d been expecting, and had discussed with Kaidan how coy she should play. “I have the support of my doctor, and the therapist, and their respective staffs, who have all been wonderful,” she reeled off, watching the tightening of annoyance to Marks’ expression. “I also have friends who check in and offer support even if they can’t be here.”

Marks huffed a sigh, opened her mouth to say something.

Emily beat her to the punch. “But I don’t know how I would manage without my boyfriend.”

Here we go, she thought as Marks shifted, leaning forward in her chair. No names, they’d agreed. Sure people will probably put two and two together, but she didn’t need to hand it to them on a silver platter.

“So you are in a relationship,” Marks said, faintly smirking as she tapped something on her datapad. “That’s been another topic of hot debate.”

“Yes, and he’s been very involved and attentive, given support I don’t think I could manage without, helps with everything from appointments and home PT exercises to mundane things I can’t do on my own and everything in between.”

“How altruistic of him,” Marks muttered.

Emily stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she snapped, ignoring Kaidan’s subtle head shake from across the room.

She’s baiting you, stay calm.

Marks gave an innocent shrug. “In my experience, no one gives that much without expecting something back--”

“You’ve never met Kaidan.” Emily winced the second the words left her mouth, wishing she could reel them back in. No. Nonono.

“--are you sure he’s not just hoping for the celebrity-” Marks’ eyes narrowed. “Did you say Kaidan? As in second human Spectre Kaidan Alenko?”

Dammit. Emily exhaled through her nose. So much for no names. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “So obviously he has plenty of celebrity on his own.” Sorry, babe. “Though you hadn’t connected us ‘til five seconds ago, so...” .

There was a muffled snort of bitten-off laughter from Kaidan.

“For the record, however, he would still do everything he’s done for me if I was the only being in the galaxy who knew about it,” Emily said, posture still stiff with pique. “He’s kind, and humble, strong. An incredibly capable man with more than enough accomplishments to his name to get recognition without riding my--or anyone else’s--coattails. He’s not helping me in hopes of personal gain” --just voicing it made her want to laugh it was so ludicrous-- “he’s doing it because that’s who he is.”

“Quite a man, to inspire so ardent a defense,” Marks said archly, though she did have the decency to shift in her chair as if being scolded.

“He is. And I’m very lucky and grateful to call him mine,” Emily said in a tone she hoped hit the balance between light and final.

“I can probably name a dozen people off the top of my head who agree with you on that, Commander,” Marks laughed. “While regretting he’s confirmed off the market.”

Emily didn’t dare look toward Kaidan just now--though she could imagine his expression--and was fervently hoping the vidcall didn’t show her blush.

“Anyway.” Marks cleared her throat and tapped her datapad. “You also mentioned having friends’ support, even though they can’t be here. Would these be friends aboard the Normandy?”

“No, we haven’t been able to establish contact with the Normandy since the battle at London,” Emily said, picking at a hangnail and trying not to think about the conversation she and Joker needed to have about EDI. “The relays being damaged means no QED comms either, after all.”

“I must say, Commander, you seem awfully... at peace with the fact a ship full of your friends is lost somewhere in the depths of space,” Marks commented.

Wow, you almost had me convinced you were decent for a second. “I miss them,” Emily said tartly. She rubbed her temples. This was more ‘public speaking’ than she’d done in her life and it was starting to wear on her. The trapped sensation in her chest was growing. “I hope they’re alright and I... I want them back. But since I lack any relevant degrees and--as we discussed--am injured, there’s not much I personally can do beyond wait and pray.”

“But are efforts being made to locate the Normandy and any other ships that might be stranded with the relays damaged?”

“As far as I know,” Emily said with strained patience. “Even if I had details, they would be classified and not something I could share. Now, I’m sorry if you had any more you wanted to ask, but I need to call it.”

Disappointment was clear on Marks’ face, but she nodded. “Of course, Commander Shepard. Thank you for the time you were able to give.” She tapped her datapad. “And we’ll send the edited file for review before we finalize it to air.”

Emily nodded, trying to loosen the growing tightness in her chest with slow breathing, and the screen went blank.

“You alright?” Kaidan asked, swiftly moving to her side.

“Yeah,” Emily managed. “Think so.” She buried her face in her hands. “That could’ve gone better. I’m sorry, Kay.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He rubbed her back in consolation.

“But they’re gonna be all over you even more now, and your mom-”

“Can handle herself. I’ll make sure she knows, but don’t worry about her. Or me.” His eyes twinkled. “Though it was kinda sexy watching you defend my honor like that.”

Emily groaned and ran her hands down her face as she looked up, but couldn’t resist teasing back. “Only kind of?”

“No, you’re right, it was really sexy,” Kaidan grinned, leaning in to steal a kiss.

“Any time, babe.” She cupped his jaw with one hand. “I am sorry, though. I should’ve kept my cool better. We agreed no names to make things easier, and I couldn’t even hold out past the first blatantly obvious bit of bait she dangled in front of me.”

“People would’ve figured it out eventually, Em,” he consoled, kissing her forehead. “Celebrity gossip brings out the bloodhound in a lot of people. Even if it would’ve been fun to make ‘em work for it.”

“You’re cute when you’re thinking devious thoughts,” Emily murmured, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “But I still shouldn’t have let her get to me like that. Didn’t let al-Jilani bait me, but an ambitious little newbie managed it,” she groused, still annoyed with herself.

“I can think of a notable difference,” Kaidan said gently, pulling over a chair to sit next to her and taking her hands in his. “Al-Jilani went after you. Marks went after me, and you’ve always been quick to the defense of people you care about, whether verbally or physically. Also, maybe she’s just better at it than al-Jilani.”

“She did make both of us think she’d be a good person for me to talk to...” Then had me skirting panic attacks twice and attacked both my character and yours. Emily sucked the inside of her cheek. Damn reporters. She stared out the window, toward the horizon, and beyond it the stars, the vast expanse of space, and--somewhere out there--the Normandy and God only knew how many other ships.

“Hey.” Kaidan squeezed her hand to get her to look at him. “They’re working on it, okay? Last report from Hackett sad relay repairs looked promising, and since Garrus said they know the Normandy’s trajectory, it’s just a matter--”

“I know.” Emily stared down at their hands.

“You aren’t a bad friend for not detailing a classified operation to a reporter, Em,” he said, tone quiet. “Let her think what she wants.”

Damn, he knew her well. She nodded, but it was a weak and noncommittal agreement at best.

Kaidan slipped one hand free so he could tip her chin up. “C’mon,” he smiled. “I think lunch on the deck is a good idea for today.”

“Mm, that is a good idea.” Emily unlocked the wheels and started out of the room. “Shame I forgot to include smart on that list when I was defending your honor.”

He made a tsking noise and smirked. “You’ll have to remember next time, Shepard.”

“I don’t plan for there to be a next time, Alenko,” she retorted, pausing to rake her fingers through her hair. “No more interviews from me, not until I’m sure I can keep it together better than this time.”

“I think you did alright.”

She snorted. “Yeah, but you’re biased.”

“True,” Kaidan said blithely. “I’ll grab food and meet you out there. The magnificent view can help you forget.”

Sure will, Emily thought, watching him walk away. “Even without a sunrise,” she teased, and Kaidan was laughing as he headed for the kitchen.

---

By the time they finished lunch, Emily seemed... resigned toward how the interview had gone. Still, perhaps, annoyed at the gaffes--because she wouldn’t be Emily is she wasn’t holding herself to a high standard--but accepting of the fact there was nothing to do but work with it.

Kaidan still noted the new, if faint, tension in her that hung on for several days. And even if she’d staved off a panic attack mid-interview--he knew the signs and how close she’d come--her nightmares were bad that night. And the next. He really should have stepped in and cut things off when Marks showed her true colors.

Emily was quiet and more driven than usual about her PT the next week, laser focused in her questions for Dr. Ahn at the check-in. Kaidan understood what was driving her, especially after he saw the interview footage.

The lighting made her look even paler than usual, and while she was clearly the same tenacious, determined Commander Shepard who wrangled the galaxy into standing together, there was an air of fragility at points that was impossible to miss. It was obvious she had been through hell and even though she’d been tough enough to survive, hell had done a number on her. And that wasn’t even getting into Marks’ slanted and prying comments in the name of ‘hard hitting journalism’ and making a name for herself.

Viewing it again, all edited and trimmed for airing in a set time slot, Kaidan could hardly blame Emily for dragging her feet about sending a reply.

“Alright, talk to me,” he finally said after giving her a couple days to process. He’d figured she would bring it up, but if she was gonna let it stew and try to struggle though on her own, well. He was more than willing to give a gentle nudge.

“About what?” Emily looked down at the ball she held before tossing it down toward the orchard for Mo to chase. They hadn’t gone anywhere the dog needed to come along for a few days, and she had lots of pent-up energy to run off as a result. The bench at the top of the orchard slope had an added bonus of privacy for their conversation while they took turns throwing a ball for Mo.

“Whatever has you crumpling in on yourself. I’m pretty sure I could guess, but don’t wanna assume.”

She bit her lip and he hoped the pregnant pause was getting her thoughts in order rather than planning to deflect. “And I’m pretty sure you would be correct.” Mo came charging back and dropped the slobbery ball in Emily’s lap. She half-smiled as she threw it again. “There’s part of me trying to come up with an excuse for Marks to bury the interview instead of airing it. But I also know it would take a lot, this’ll make her career, and that’s all it would be; an excuse, not wanting to look weak. And if I ask with a flimsy reason it’s just gonna make it look worse and make her and others more curious what I’m trying to hide.”

This time when Mo returned, she dropped the ball at Kaidan’s feet, and he picked it up to throw. “I get that, but maybe it’s a good thing for people to see you ‘weak’.” He still thought she was incredibly strong. He lobbed to ball for Mo. “Even if that weakness is just a different kind of strength.”

“Remind them I’m human?” Emily asked with a wry smile.

“Basically, yeah.” Kaidan watched Mo chase the ball, leap to catch it. “You’re not invincible, and you have limits, like anyone. The perseverance that inspires them is still there; you get knocked down and you recover-”

“But I’m not!” Emily cut in, voice oozing frustration. “That’s the thing, Kaidan, I’ve been stuck for weeks. No progress and nothing I can do but ‘wait and see’.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “It’s... I don’t even...” A sigh as she threw the ball for Mo again. “It’s not even the thought of being in that” --a wave toward her wheelchair parked nearby-- “the rest of my life. I’ve known from the beginning that was a possibility. I’m lucky to just be alive. And that’s the issue--if I’m alive, and I’m such an inspiration I feel like I owe it to the galaxy to be that, in whatever capacity I can, and hitting a rut in my recovery isn’t very inspirational.”

“Maybe you feel like you owe Cerberus because they saved you,” his own voice mocked him.

“Emmy.” Kaidan reached for her hand just as Mo returned and, sensing the change, buried her head in Emily’s lap. “You don’t owe anyone anything, sweetheart.”

“I’m trying... trying to believe that,” she said softly, holding his hand tight. “But you know me. Responsibility’s not an easy weight to shuck and I still feel like I’m letting people down.”

“I get that,” he said with a nod, turning over some thoughts as he chose his words. With what had been hung around her neck and for how long, that wasn’t going to be a feeling she could just brush off, he knew. “You aren’t. And I’ll keep reminding you of that as often as you need.”

“Thanks,” Emily murmured, scratching Mo’s ears with her free hand. “It’ll probably be a lot.”

He believed that, looking at the circles under her eyes and slump of her shoulders. How did you even begin to shift out a mindset so thoroughly ingrained?

---

Kaidan studied her face and Emily let him, not hiding the strain that tugged at her features. Three bad nights in a row--not to mention that damn interview--topped with a grueling PT session had drained her enough even without the fear her progress would stagnate here at curling toes and rotating ankles, minimal movement and no weight bearing.

He took a deep breath and tugged her closer, until she slid into his lap, and settled one arm loosely around her waist. “Y’know what?”

“What?” she asked cautiously, distracted from watching Mo chase a squirrel by the care in his eyes.

“You don’t have PT or a check-in tomorrow.” Kaidan brushed a kiss just below her eye. “I think we should go do something fun. I think we need it.”

“Like what?” Emily leaned into the soft kiss, then rested her forehead against his temple.

“There’s a boardwalk along part of Peace River that’s reopened recently, there’s lots of neat shops and stalls, arcade-style games, good food, gorgeous views, great company...”

She giggled, weighed how draining the day might be against how much she needed a chance to relax. “Sounds good.”

“Something like that doesn’t have a time commitment, either,” he continued, “so we can leave whenever you want.”

She laughed as she straightened. “I already said yes, babe, you don’t have to keep selling it.”

“Just wanted to make sure you know that,” he said, stealing a kiss. “I know you’re more comfortable when you can make an easy exit.”

Emily smiled and cupped one hand to his jaw. “Always lookin’ out for me. I’m so lucky I have you.”

She knew it had nothing to do with luck and everything to do with commitment, and it made her love him more than she could put into words.

“I’m just dating you for the celebrity appeal, remember?” Kaidan teased.

She groaned. “Please don’t remind me of that interview. I can’t remember the last time I was tempted to shoot someone who wasn’t an enemy combatant.”

He chuckled. “Want to leave around ten tomorrow? Or should we aim for later? I’d like to have some time to walk around before we have lunch, but-”

“We can leave earlier,” Emily interrupted. “You know I’m usually up by eight.”

“Didn’t want you to feel rushed.”

“I won’t. We can say nine.” She walked her fingers up his chest. “Unless you want to move slower.”

“Nine’s fine with me if it works for you,” Kaidan said with a smile.

“It’s a date, then,” Emily said playfully.

“It’s a date,” Kaidan laughed, and they turned their attention to the sunset.

---

Despite her insistence, Emily could still admit privately it was a minor miracle they got out of the house when they’d planned to. (Well, alright, 9:03. Close enough.) No mishaps, no migraines, no muscle spasms or panic attacks. After some careful deliberation about her mental state, where they were going, and the fact Kaidan would be with her, she decided to leave Harmony home with Rae.

“You get to have the day off,” she crooned, ruffling Mo’s ears, and the dog gave a happy groan at the attention before curling up to sleep.

The shuttle ride was uneventful aside from one detour around a reconstruction site, and they arrived at the boardwalk more or less when they’d been aiming to.

“Big place,” Emily commented, surveying the wide walkway lined with booths and attractions as she settled in her wheelchair and Kaidan got the rest of their things. “Lot of people...”

“Is that gonna be a problem?” He paused in hanging the small carry bag off the chair’s handgrips.

“Only if I get recognized and mobbed,” she said dryly. “That’s counterproductive to a relaxing day off.”

“Which is why I brought a disguise,” Kaidan said with a laugh, plunking a wide-brim sunhat on her head and handing her a pair of sunglasses. “Basic works best, right?”

Emily matched his laugh and pulled the hat brim down so it better shaded her face. Quite aside from blending in, shielding her from the sun was always smart with how easily she burned. “You better keep these, though,” she said, beckoning him with the sunglasses. “You’re hardly low profile yourself, Mr. Second-ever Human Spectre.”

Kaidan snorted another laugh and bent down to let her slip the sunglasses on his face. “Think that’ll do the trick?”

“You’re as good as invisible,” Emily teased, and kissed the tip of his nose before he straightened.

“Right then.” He angled her chair toward a ramp up onto the slightly raised boardwalk. “Any requests for first stop?”

“Your idea, your choice, babe,” she countered, running a look over the multitude of options. There was too much to choose from just at this end. She wasn’t letting him palm the decision off on her that easily.

“Wandering til something catches our eye it is,” he said, and she could almost see the small smirk. “I don’t know what’s here much better than you do, Em.”

“Wandering aimlessly fits better with relaxing day off anyway,” she said lightly. Seat of the pants worked for her in combat, why not extend it to leisure time, too?

She wasn’t sure if it was the time or the day of the week, but the crowd milling along the boardwalk wasn’t bad. Enough people they could go with the flow, so to speak, not so many the wheelchair would be a problem or draw (too much) attention.

Goldilocks zone, Emily thought glibly as she scanned the booths for anything interesting. “I assume any of the toss games frown upon... biotic assistance.”

Kaidan laughed. “It tends to be considered cheating, yeah.”

She chewed her lower lip and stared at one nearby, a sticky ball version of darts from the look of it, then glanced down at her right hand. Her arm was technically all healed up, and probably wouldn’t betray her. But--as Garrus could gleefully attest--her aim was shit. There was a reason she’d toted a shotgun.

“If you’re staring at it this long, I think we should play.” Kaidan altered course to head for the booth.

“I don’t want you to waste the money-”

“Something that makes you happy is never a waste,” he cut off her protest. “Besides, it’s not like I’m short on credits. Think you can beat me?”

Emily grinned at the teasing challenge. “Alright, you’re on.” The counter was low enough to not be in her way, and she was curious how good he was at this. “Impress me.”

They approached the counter, Kaidan paid the three-game charge without even hesitating, and the bin slid open to the first set of slightly-sticky projectiles. They were odd to hold, the texture not quite upsetting, but not quite normal either.

“Ready?” Kaidan asked, rolling one in his palm.

“Whenever you are, hot stuff,” Emily winked back.

Her first throw barely caught the target. Kaidan’s barely missed the bullseye.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” she drawled through a grin she’d couldn’t have fought if she wanted to(and she didn’t want to).

“You said to impress you,” Kaidan baited with a matching grin. “You can aim it better if you sort of flick it off your fingers instead of throwing it.”

Emily sucked the inside of her cheek as she followed his advice for the next one. Still not a bullseye, but definitely more on the target. Kaidan’s hit the outer ring and the point counters beneath the targets showed them almost tied. She looked down at the third--final--ball in her hand, then back at the target, and let it fly. It stuck solidly in the ring outside the bullseye. Kaidan’s hit one ring out from hers, giving her one point more for the round.

“Best two out of three?” he chuckled, leaning against the edge of the booth as the attendant removed the balls from the targets.

“Well, you did pay for that already,” Emily said, underscored by the counter opening to give their second round. “So might as well, right?”

“That’s the spirit.”

Kaidan won the second game--trounced her, really--which made the final set a matter of pride. And Emily was very proud of herself when she managed to win that one, too.

“Yes!” She punched the air and almost knocked off her sunhat.

Kaidan laughed and moved so she could see the selection of prizes for her point total. “Congratulations. Choose your spoils.”

“Hmmm....” Emily tapped a finger against her chin as she looked at the options. It was mostly cheap toys; noisemakers, flimsy looking metal models, slightly goofy stuffed animals. She finally settled on a stuffed woodpecker wearing an ‘I ♥ Peace River’ t-shirt.

“Nice,” Kaidan snorted in amusement as he tucked it in the bag.

“Hey, I coulda picked the Blasto slap bracelet set and made you wear one,” she countered with a smirk as they started off, a gentle moseying pace that let them scan the activities, storefronts and food stands ass they went.

“Made me, huh?”

Emily tipped her head back to flutter her eyelashes at him. “I know your weaknesses, Major.”

“Ah, playing dirty, I see how it is.”

The light banter continued as they did, pausing occasionally to peruse the souvenirs displayed outside a store or play another game. Emily’s favorite of the morning was the claw machine, even if they didn’t fare much better at the game than Zaeed had.

After a truly inordinate amount of time, credits, and laughter (not to mention stubbornness), Emily managed to snag a ‘mystery prize; the sphere opaqued to conceal its contents, and Kaidan missed the mini hanar keychain he was aiming for. He caught one with cheap silicone ring in it instead; part of the ‘powers of the galaxy’ set displayed on the side of the machine. It featured colors like ‘explosion orange’ and ‘relay grey’. Because the galaxy loved irony, Kaidan’s was tacky shades of ‘biotic blue’.

“Wow.” They said it in unison, almost but not quite laughing.

“I don’t think that’ll even fit me,” Kaidan commented, the almost-laugh still hanging on his words as he looked at the ring. “Not that it’s something I’d want to wear...”

“Oh, no, of course not.” Emily rotated her own prize in her hands. “You wanna grab a snack and I can see what mine is? If it’s good maybe we can swap.”

“Aw, you’d do that for me?” Kaidan teased as he tucked both prize spheres in next to her stuffed woodpecker and the t-shirt she gotten from one of the souvenir kiosks(it was three sizes too big and very soft; she planned to make it her new sleep shirt).

“Just shows how much I love you,” Emily deadpanned. “I smell funnel cake, can we hunt that down?”

He chuckled. “Sure.”

Given there were vendors selling every kind of food, healthy and decidedly not, every ten feet, the funnel cake didn’t take long to find. They procured two drinks and a large handful of napkins as well before heading to a bench. Emily switched from the wheelchair to the bench so she didn’t get powdered sugar all over it. Kaidan sat next to her, and while it took a lot of effort--and a little help from him--she swung her legs up to rest over his lap. This position made the armrest dig into her spine a little, but she didn’t mind. The funnel cake was in her lap where they could both reach it, and Kaidan idly rubbed her leg with one hand as they ate.

“Mmh, do you know how long it’s been since I had funnel cake?” Emily mumbled around her first bite.

“A long time, I’m guessing, if the euphoria on your face is anything to go by,” Kaidan said, smiling as he brushed futilely at the powdered sugar dotting her leggings after his first bite.

“At least four years,” she said, nodding, around her second bite,. “I know they’re... irredeemably bad for you, but they taste so good. And biotics need the calories.”

He chuckled and leaned over to dust sugar off her nose. “I think you, of all people, have earned the right to be a little bad every once in a while, Em.”

She grinned and tugged on the brim of his baseball cap, added to his sunglasses from the same kiosk she got her t-shirt as the sun was starting to climb, to pull him even closer for a sugary kiss. “Just a little bad, huh?”

“Little is subjective,” he murmured, eyes twinkling. “But you’re gonna drop the funnel cake if you aren’t careful.”

She released him with a yelp of dismay to catch the funnel cake before it slid from her lap.

“Good to know where I rank next to funnel cake,” Kaidan said with a laugh.

Emily threw a balled up napkin at him. “Hush you. Let me enjoy my fried and sugary dough in peace.”

He did just that, a smirk tugging his lips. While he did take a couple more pieces, she definitely ate the lion’s share. She closed her eyes to enjoy the breezy warmth of the day as Kaidan discarded the trash, then returned to slide under her legs again.

“Tired, Shepard?”

Emily opened her eyes at the amusement in his voice. “No, it’s just really nice. Thanks for this, babe. I needed a day like today, I think more than I realized,” she admitted. “A day out with her boyfriend really helps a girl feel human.”

Kaidan’s brows arched at the reference to their previous conversation even as he smiled. “Happy to help. And I got something I needed out of it, too--seeing you relax for once,” he clarified before she could ask, then dug out her claw game prize from the carry bag. “Now. Ready to see how lucky you are?”

“Oh, I’m already the luckiest ‘cause I’ve got you,” Emily said, tone glib even if she meant every damn word.

Kaidan laughed. “Awful cheesy for you, hon.”

“Doesn’t make it untrue,” she retorted as she popped open the mystery prize to reveal a wildly patterned pink and red stress ball. “Oh, hey, that might actually come in handy...” She set it aside--trying not to dwell on how many credits they’d spent on what amounted to silly junk--and turned back to Kaidan. “Regardless of prize machine success, I really did win big in the boyfriend department,” she said, reaching for his hand so she could interlace their fingers. “You’ve done a lot for me, Kaidan. More than I can fully fathom. You support me, you call me out on bad decisions, you’ve had my back against... through a lot. It means so much knowing you’re there.”

She traced his fingers with her other hand. “And even more than just... the Reapers, you gave me a home, and you get me to and through therapy and nightmares, and muscle spasms and bad days of every kind and.. and even today,” she continued, “Picking up that I was stressed and knowing how to help and doing it without hesitation. You’re just... always there. And that means more than I can put into words.”

“I said I would be,” Kaidan replied softly, his thumb brushing the side of her hand. “I’m in this for the long haul, Em. Good and bad, exciting and mundane, hard and easy and everything in between. I love you and don’t wanna lose you again.”

“Sweet as always. That sounds like you’re rehearsing a proposal,” Emily mumbled with a shaky laugh through the emotion lumping in her throat, unsure what else to say.

Kaidan cocked his head at her, wry smile tugging his lips. “Well, I was planning to wait until I had a ring, but why not? Oh, wait-” He pulled out his claw machine prize as Emily was still processing the implications of his comment, freed it from the casing, and looked her square in the eye. “Emily, will you ma-”

“YES-!!” She clapped a hand over her grin, heart racing, and mumbled a giddy, “Sorry, I’ll let you actually finish asking...”

Kaidan shook his head, grinning back and tugging her closer to sit in his lap --”Good enough for me”--so he could kiss her. Emily reached up, fumbling to swivel the bill of his hat around as she kissed him back(again, and again), arms settling tight around his neck.

The prize ring did not fit on the correct finger, but it did fit on her pinkie.

“I am going to buy you a real ring,” Kaidan promised. “That actually fits right.”

“And I’ll love it when you do, but I like the memory that goes with this one now,” Emily said, tracing along the ‘biotic’ design. “So, do we tell your mom now, or after we have the official ring?”

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart,” he tweaked the brim of her sunhat, “but I think I’ll still be grinning big enough to clue her in when we get back.”

She laughed and nuzzled her nose to his. “Yeah, me, too.”

“How ‘bout Garrus and the others? When do you want to tell them?”

Emily bit her lower lip, mood dimming slightly at the thought of their still-absent friends. “Garrus was gonna call in a couple days to chat anyway. I’ll tell him then. I’ll figure out the rest later. But I’m definitely calling my mom as soon as we get home.”

“Of course,” Kaidan chuckled. “Guess we really need to work on getting her out here to meet my mom in person.”

“Guess we do.” Emily looked at the ring again, felt her heart soar at the commitment it represented, then back at her fiancé and grinned. “For now, you ready to continue the fun day out?”

“If you are,” Kaidan said, small smile tugging his lips. “I thought you might want to sit here and make out a little longer.”

“Considering how embarrassingly overboard I’ll go if we do that,” Emily said, rubbing her thumb along his jaw, “prob’ly better for makeouts to wait until we get home.” She cupped his jaw in both hands and kissed him deeply. “But we can have that one for the road.”

It made her more than a little smug when Kaidan had to blink several times to get his eyes back in focus before he spoke. “...Right. Better to limit the PDA, I guess.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then stood and moved the wheelchair closer to help her shift back. “You just make that very difficult sometimes,” he murmured.

“Right back atcha, babe,” Emily said wiggling to a more comfortable position while Kaidan gathered their things and stowed them in the carry bag. She fiddled with the ring again, unable to stop grinning as they rejoined the flow of foot traffic to see what else the boardwalk held. No matter what they saw or did, she was pretty sure nothing could make this day any more perfect.

---

They spent another three hours at the boardwalk--occupied by games, attractions, and (of course) ice cream--before heading home. Happily, contentedly tired as they climbed in the cab. Still grinning, as predicted, when they climbed out back at the house.

Rae was just settling on the front porch, mug of strongly hazelnut coffee in hand and a book in her lap, and looked up from both as they approached. A grin that mirrored theirs curved her lips. “Well, you two look like you had a good day.”

“Oh, the best,” Kaidan nodded, as he and Emily traded mischievous looks.

Rae arched a brow. “Any elaboration planned for that...?”

Emily giggled and nudged Kaidan when he hesitated as if planning to defer to her. “I’ll get to tell mine, you tell yours.”

He laughed--”Fair”--and met his mother’s gaze. “The opportunity presented itself even if a proper ring hasn’t yet, I proposed, and she said yes.”

Rae whooped and squeezed him so tight Emily swore she heard something pop. “I’m so happy for you!!” She released Kaidan and bent to hug Emily as well. “Have enough energy left to share the details?”

A joyful laugh escaped Emily as her future mother-in-law’s enthusiasm inspired a fresh wave of her own. “I sure do.” She held up her hand to show the silicone ring. “And he did give me a stand-in until we find the real thing.”

Rae peered at the kitschy band and burst out laughing. “This is definitely a story I need to hear.”

“You can hear the unpolished version, before we’ve had to tell it a dozen times and bits get shaved off,” Kaidan joked as he sat in one of the other chairs.

Rae gave another chuckle and reclaimed her coffee mug with a delighted grin. “By all means, hon. Regale me.”

And they did. Emily tried very hard to keep her word and let Kaidan tell it this time, but there were a couple spots she couldn’t help but interject. By the time the story was done, Rae had drunk all her coffee and all three were sporting huge grins.

“Now that is a story,” she said with an approving nod. “I’d say it feels like we should eat dinner out to celebrate, but I’m guessing you two are going to want to stay in?”

Emily nodded. “Spent enough time out today. Honestly, I’m prob’ly gonna fall asleep on the couch,” she admitted with a laugh, running her fingers through her hair.

“Was that a hint, Em?” Kaidan laughed.

“You do know me well.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I wanna snuggle my dog for a little while, but I’ll do my best to stay awake. Oh, after I call my mom.”

“You want living room, bedroom, or deck for that?”

“I’ll do deck, both for the view and because I can get there under my own power. Give you a break.”

“I don’t mind-”

She waved a hand to cut off his protest. “I know you don’t. I still want to give you a break. Let a girl have some independence, babe,” she teased.

“If you really want something to do,” Rae began as she pushed to her feet, “you can help with dinner prep. But I’m with your fiancée on this, hon. You’re allowed to take a break.”

“Ganging up on me, huh?” Kaidan asked with a chuckle, pulling off the baseball cap to run his fingers through his hair.

“Only because we love you,” Emily said, already calling up her omnitool as she started to move around to the deck.

It took a moment for her mom to answer. “Emily? Everything alright?”

She laughed. “Guess I need to call you more if it makes you worry something’s wrong. But yeah, everything’s alright.” She smiled and bit back a giggle again looking at the ring. “More than, actually...”

Her mother was just as excited as Rae had been to hear the news, asked for just as many details--which Emily gave--and promised to make time for a visit so they could celebrate.

“And you can finally meet Kaidan’s mom, since she was busy the time you visited the rehab center,” She wished she could say Kaidan’s parents, wished that they knew. “You’ll like her.”

“If she raised a man smart enough to fall in love with you, I’m sure I will,” her mom joked. “But I have a meeting in a few minutes, so I’ll let you go.”

“Alright, Mom. Love you.” Emily laughed and disconnected the call before heading inside.

The rest of the evening was passed pleasantly, with small talk, laughter, and dog cuddles that did indeed end with Emily falling asleep on the couch. She only vaguely woke up when Kaidan carried her to bed, enough to snuggle in close when he settled next to her.

“Love you, Kay,” she mumbled against his neck.

His lips pressed to her forehead in a gentle kiss. “Love you, Em.”

---

They were a bit tangled when Emily woke, and it made her smile against Kaidan’s shirt. His arm was draped over her waist, and one of her legs was between his, ankle--unintentionally--hooked behind his.

She wiggled far enough back to free her left arm from being trapped between them and stared at the blue silicone ring for a long moment. Warmth turned and squeezed in her chest at the proof yesterday had been real and not just a very good dream.

Biting back the joyful laugh that wanted to come bubbling out of her, Emily tucked her hand under her cheek to watch Kaidan sleep. She didn’t get long to enjoy the view of tousled hair and peaceful expression before Mo realized one of them was awake and started to worm-crawl up the bed in hopes of some attention. Emily chuckled as she reached to scratch between Mo’s ears.

Kaidan stirred a moment later, rubbing his eyes as he opened them. A soft, heart-stopping smile curved his when he saw her watching him. “Hey. Look who’s here.”

“That’s s’pposed to be my line, Alenko,” Emily chided playfully, leaning in for a kiss.. “Sleep well?”

“Mm.” He nodded, running his fingers through her hair and letting his thumb trace down her jaw. “The waking up’s better, though.”

She hummed a small laugh, butterflies in her stomach at his sincerity. “Nice little preview of your future?”

“It’s cute you think you’ll always be awake first,” Kaidan teased, leaning in close. He stopped before their lips met and murmured, “So, any big plans for today, Commander Shepard?”

Emily pursed her lips in faux-thought, their nearness meaning the gesture brushed just above the corner of his mouth. “Hmm, well... I don’t have any appointments today, and” --she linked their hands, playing her fingers over his---”I did just get engaged to the most amazing man in the galaxy yesterday. He still owes me a proper ring, though,” she said mischievously. “Thought maybe we could go look for that.”

He laughed, still slightly sleepy. “You’re awful eager.”

“Excited,” she corrected, finally stealing the kiss he’d been teasing before she sat up. “‘Sides, I’m gonna be talkin’ to Garrus tomorrow, be nice to have the real one by then, ‘cause you know he’s gonna ask. He’s a little invested.”

“Oh, just a little?” Kaidan sat up and stretched, smirking as he watched her watch him, and scratched Mo’s ears. “We can go look if you want. After breakfast. I need coffee.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, babe,” Emily scoffed, automatically holding out an arm for him to pick her up as he circled the bed. She hadn’t done morning stretches yet--after coffee--so it was best to just let him help. Another possible preview of his future... But he knew that and he wasn’t going anywhere.

The coffee was a wonderful start to the day, enjoyed on the deck along with beautiful weather and her fiancé and very attentive dog. They moved through the rest of the morning routine at a leisurely pace, greeting Rae when she rose late--also in search of coffee. By the time they were done and ready for the day, it was late enough for jewelry stores to be open.

So off they went, with matching gleeful grins. ‘Don’t look at prices, look at styles you like,’ Kaidan said as they climbed in they cab, and Emily once again had to grapple with the reminder how comfortable his family was.

“Gotta warn you, babe,” she said as they approached the first store, “this might take a while; I’m not one of those girls who’ve had a ring and wedding décor picked out since I was ten.”

“Noted,” he chuckled. “We’ll take the time we need. I want you to be happy with it.”

The staff greeted them as they entered and proved quite helpful, the selection varied, and after an hour of looking, they’d found a couple that were very promising. But not perfect, and Emily knew Kaidan could tell she felt that way. Se they thanked the woman who helped them , gave the ‘we need to shop around but might be back’ farewell, and headed for the next jeweler on the list.

“Do you have a better idea the sort of thing you want, Em?” Kaidan asked.

“I think so,” she said with an abashed laugh. “Sorry for making this difficult; I just figured on being married to the job before I met you, and there hasn’t been much time to dwell on it since I met you.”

He snorted.” Which is what I told my mother when she asked why I didn’t have a ring if I was planning to propose.”

“Have you had a chance to look since... since London?” Emily asked, idly taking in the street they were traversing. There was some damage, as there was everywhere, but a surprising number of stores were pushing through and open despite the damage and clean-up around them.

“A few times,” he said. “Haven’t checked everywhere local yet, but some places. Including this one.” He nodded toward the store they were approaching. “But it was the first one I visited and there were too many options for me to have a prayer of narrowing it down on my own.” They paused to let a gaggle of people pass and he grinned at her. “Hopefully, we’ll have better luck this time; with the bride-to-be along and with at least a rough idea of what she wants.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Emily teased. “Overwhelmed and indecisive so you’re passin’ it off to me?”

“I just want you to have the perfect ring, sweetheart,” Kaidan said with exaggerated innocence. “‘Sides, it’s not like I’m going anywhere; we’re in this together.”

“I feel better about our odds already,” she said glibly as they entered the store.

As with the other one, the staff was pleasant and helpful. The man who assisted Kaidan on his first visit happened to be working, and swept over to offer assistance as soon as he registered their presence. Kaidan hadn’t been exaggerating about the selection; their inventory had to be twice the size of the first store, at least. Emily was very briefly overwhelmed and almost panicked trying to hide that fact from the charming, spit-polished associate. (Logan, she was pretty sure he’d introduced himself) Before she remembered she had some idea what she wanted and could narrow it down. “Nothing over 1.5 carats” cut the field quite a bit. Even if Kaidan could afford it, she didn’t want a big ring. “Oval or marquise cut” shrank the options even further, as did “diamond and emerald combination”.

“Do you know which you prefer for the main stone?” Logan asked, displaying a few options of a large diamond set with small emeralds, alongside a few of the reverse. Both were gorgeous, and Emily hesitated as she looked between them.

Kaidan’s omnitool beeped while she was deliberating. He pushed to his feet and gave Emily’s arm a squeeze. “Better take this; I’ll be right back.”

He stepped away for the call, but she found herself half-listening in as she looked at the rings, trying to decide which arrangement she liked better. His tone was curious but relaxed as he answered.

“Maybe you should just show me what you have in both arrangements,” Emily said to Logan. “I can’t really say I have a preference between them, overall.”

“Of course.” He started withdrawing rings to show them.

Her focus, however, shifted as Kaidan’s tone went agitated. “Mom, slow down- what’s wr- Are you saying-?” He rubbed his temples. “Alright, give us time to get home.”

Emily gestured to Logan. “Sounds like we have something of an emergency brewing, you might want to hold off.” She looked longingly at two of the rings in particular. “Any chance you could hold those for a day or so?” she asked, pointing them out as Kaidan returned.

“Certainly,” Logan said, masking his disappointment at the lack of an immediate sale well. “What’s the name?”

“Shepard,” Emily said, ignoring his wide-eyed moment of recognition to turn to Kaidan. “I overheard a bit. Take it we need to leave?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Kaidan included her and Logan both in his apologetic smile. “Mom’s too worked up to say what’s wrong, just that she needs us back ASAP.”

“Family first,” Emily said, disengaging her wheel locks as her mind raced to figure out what could get this sort of reaction from Rae. “Thank you so much for your help, Logan, and hopefully we’ll see you again soon.”

“Hopefully,” he replied, perhaps the barest trace glib, giving a polite wave of farewell as he watched them exit the store.

Neither of them spoke until ensconced in a cab.

“Your dad?” Emily asked, reaching for Kaidan’s hand. She remembered losing her own father, prayed to high heaven Kaidan wasn’t about to learn that pain.

He took her hand and clung to it, swallowing hard. “Only thing I can think of that would rattle her this much,” he muttered. “Em, it’s been.... presumed for months, but if this is confirmation...”

Emily squeezed his hand back fiercely and they were silent the rest of the way home.

---

They found Rae pacing frazzled circles in the living room, Harmony tight on her heels and whining as she picked up the emotional distress and wanted to help soothe it. She jerked to a stop. “There you are!”

“Mom, what happened?!” Kaidan demanded, brow furrowed in concern. He moved toward her once sure Emily was secure.

Rae let out a deep, uneven sigh. “...It’s your father.”

Emily bit her lip as she watched Kaidan tense.

“Did they find him?” he asked. “Is he...” The words trailed off as if unsure whether to reach for hope or realism at this point.

“I don’t know,” Rae said helplessly. She ran shaking hands through her hair, twisting a section around her fingers. It was, Emily noted absently, the first time she’d seen Rae’s hair down and it was longer than she’d expected. Nearly waist-length. “Someone called, I didn’t catch the name and the connection was.... was patchy from the get-go. They confirmed who I was and said they had news about my.. about Tom.” She gathered her hair in one hand and twisted it in a quasi-ponytail over her shoulder. “Then the damn call dropped and I haven’t heard anything else!”

Kaidan glanced at Emily as he stepped forward to pull his mother into a hug. She had a sneaking suspicion he was intimately familiar with that horrible so-close almost-knowing.

“Mom, it’ll be alright,” he soothed. “We know they have news, and that they know how to reach us.” He rubbed her arms.” And I assume you tried to call back?”

“Static,” Rae mumbled into his shoulder.

“We know comms have been down all over, they probably just got them back and are dealing with kinks-”

Rae’s hand flew up to cover his mouth, her other twitching toward her ear. “Hello?”

Emily and Kaidan both froze. Oh, please...

“Yes, this is she... Our call dropped out...” Rae’s hand moved from covering Kaidan’s mouth to squeeze his arm. “...no, I understand... Mmhm. You-” She stood very, very still, fingers digging into Kaidan’s arm. A kaleidoscope of emotion flew across her face, the corners of her mouth quivering, but Emily couldn’t tell which way they were trying to curve. “And his.. he’s where?”

Emily held her breath. Oh please, oh please, oh please.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” Rae said, breath starting to come in a rush. “Mhm. Thank you so much.” She covered her mouth with her hand as the call disconnected, gaze meeting Kaidan’s. “He’s alive,” she managed, voice thick, before collapsing against his chest, relieved sobs shaking her shoulders.

The raw emotion and overwhelming relief that flashed in Kaidan’s eyes as he hugged his mother close drove Emily’s held breath from her lungs in a rush. “Oh, thank God.”

“You said it,” Kaidan muttered with a stunned chuckle, smile slowly spreading across his face as the news sank in. “Mom, did they say anything else? Is he hurt, is he coming home?”

Rae straightened, semi-composing herself, though the huge grin refused to go away. “No, they know he’s alive because he ‘made contact’, but his team was far afield and still picking their way back. There were injuries, but the base doesn’t know the spread or extent. So I don’t know if he’s one of the injured or how bad it might be.”

“We can find out details later,” Kaidan said, hugging her again. “This is... more than enough for now.”

“Damn straight,” Rae said with a shaky laugh. “I’m breaking out champagne, it feels warranted.”

“We’ll meet you on the deck,” Kaidan said, moving toward Emily’s wheelchair as Rae headed for the kitchen.

Emily had the wheels unlocked and was moving toward the door even before he reached her. Mo followed close behind them.

“How’re you doing, babe?” she asked, once they were outside.

“Stunned,” Kaidan admitted as he dropped into one of the chairs. Mo shoved her head in his lap and he half-smiled as he roughed her ears. “Overjoyed, obviously, but...” he exhaled, meeting Emily’s eye. “I figured I used up all my miracles, Em. I got you back twice, survived Mars, Biotics Division is still mostly intact... How lucky is one guy allowed to get, you know?”

She met his disbelieving smile with a soft one of her own. “Maybe this one’s your mom’s miracle. And anyway, I wouldn’t call it luck. Considering the Alenko I’ve had the honor and pleasure of knowing for a good long while is resilient as hell and good at inspiring leadership, can’t say I’m surprised your dad’s the same.”

Kaidan laughed. “This the part where I say I came by it honestly?” He ran his hand through his hair. “Though knowing Dad, he’s gonna be one of the injured, prob’ly from protecting someone else, so we’ll have to see how bad that is...”

“Maybe you should rename this place the Alenko Home for Invalids or something,” Emily teased, rolling her chair back and forth before reaching for his hand. “It’ll be fine, Kay. Where’s there life there’s hope and all.” She looked out over the orchard toward the distant, barely-visible reconstruction work. “And I know, better than most, you can come back from just about anything with a good support system. Think your dad’s gonna be just as lucky as I am in that regard.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek just as Rae joined them, bottle and glasses in hand.

“Not the best vintage,” she laughed, grinning as she set the glasses on the table. “But I frankly don’t care right now.” She popped the bottle and started pouring. “To good news.”

“And optimism,” Kaidan added, taking the glass she handed him. “Good job hanging on to yours, Mom.”

“Thanks, hon.” Rae poured glasses for herself and Emily as well. “Sometimes that’s all you can do, grit your teeth and hope.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Emily laughed. She squeezed Kaidan’s hand and held up her glass. Hope as a last resort was a strategy both knew well, though rarely did it pay such miraculous dividends.

She was glad it had, though, Emily mused as they toasted and drank. She’d swear there was a difference with the tension of that looming question gone. Like the weight of one burden among several had lifted from Kaidan’s shoulders, and his mother’s, too. Sure, it wasn’t likely to be smooth sailing, for Tom or Emily herself, or even the galaxy as a whole, but they had each other and they’d make it through. She looked down at the ring on her hand.

Hard, easy, and everything in between.

#queens fic #mebb23 #emily shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #mass effect #otp: sanity check

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camaro-and-smokes · 2 years

Text

Day after - The Love of My Life PT 2

Rating: Mature Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Warnings: just angst

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Read on AO3 >>

Author notes: This is my very own, very first fix-it Stranger Things AU, probably first out of many. If you don’t like the characters or the setting, instead of nasty comments I have a solution for you: Don’t read.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Steve was standing in front of the locker room's door, leaning to the wall. Everyone else had already left, but he knew that Billy and his friends, or whatever he called those who hanged around him trying to get some of his glow to rub on them, were still inside.

Steve perked up when he saw the guys starting to pour out. After a moment, Billy was walking straight towards him. Dream Weaver by Gary Wright started playing in Steve's head when he saw Billy smiling and the time seemed to slow down. Steve felt all dreamy and he must've made a stupid face, because the needle scratched the record and the song stopped when Billy's gaze hit him. The smile was gone and Billy glared at him menacingly.

"Hey, umm, Hargrove? A word?" Steve asked and stood upright.

Billy raised an eyebrow, dropped his bag and walked to him, right at his face and punched him in the shoulder. "A word? What the fuck would I have to say to you, Pretty Boy?"

"I...think we have some unfinished business."

"Oh really? Unfinished business? About what? That I stole your thunder back there in the gym?" Billy sneered. As he let out an arrogant laugh, his friends laughed as well.

Steve stared straight at Billy's eyes. He searched, but saw nothing familiar in them, nothing he had seen the previous night.

"You know what?" Steve said, and backed away raising his hands. "Forget it."

***

Billy cocked his chin as he looked at Steve shaking his head and turning to walk away. He felt a sting in his chest that he had hit Steve so hard. But this was the wrong time and definitely the wrong place and he needed to send that message to Steve, loud and clear. His guys couldn't get even a whif of anything that might be a miss on him. In any way. As far as they needed to know, he was the one who scored any of the ladies at school. Anyone he wanted. And also that he definitely wasn't friends with Pretty Boy.

"Hargrove?" one of the guys asked. "Are we going or what?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to look at the group with a grin, slipping into the alpha male role effortlessly. He grabbed his bag and they walked together out to the parking lot.

***

Billy's court, as Steve had decided to call them, got into their cars and drove away one by one. Steve had just gotten to his car when he saw Billy get to his Camaro. Billy turned to look at his way just for a while, but then he got in and soon the V8 roared to life, and Billy drove away.

Billy hadn't shown any signs of even recollecting the last night's events. Which as itself was understandable. He didn't want Billy's court to know either that he and their king had something else going on than mutual distaste of each other.

He just had wanted to give Billy his number, the one to his own landline. He had totally forgotten it last night. He was prepared to sell it as Nancy's number, he was sure Billy would've understood the hint. But Billy's hit had been hard, and the message sent with it very clear.

Maybe he was seeing too much in this, whatever this thing he and Billy had was. Maybe he was getting too much ahead when there was nothing to get ahead for.

***

Billy stopped at the red light. It was the middle of the afternoon and ”for fucks sake” there was no one else in the junction. He stepped on the gas and the Camaro charged ahead wheels burning with smoke and the V8 roaring, through the red light and towards the city limit. He loved the noise of that engine and speeding up a straight road. Feeling the power of the V8 and hearing it purr was the best thing he knew. It was the best way to forget all the shit he had to face when he unevitably would have to go home.

Now though, all he could think of was Steve, and how his hit must've hurt him, not just physically, but also inside. They had had great time last night, and Steve was the last person he wanted to hurt. He couldn't remember when he last had felt like he had with Steve. He couldn't remember when someone had been interested in what was going on inside his head instead of his body or what status being with him might bring them. Not since his mom.

But they did have a problem: how to communicate. He didn't have Steve's phone number, and he didn't have anyone he could trust to get a message to Steve directly. They had set up the last night's meeting at a party previous weekend that had house full of drunk teens not paying attention enough to see that they had actually been talking for a while here and there. To wait for a next party with a setting like that was not an option. It might take a while for that to happen. And he didn't want to wait that long. He definitely wouldn't ask help from the brat he was forced to babysit around, even though he knew that one her friends was the shrimpy kid who was Nancy Wheeler's brother. And Nancy, being Steve's ex, would probably be reliable enough to send the message. She had to know about Steve not being exclusive to women. But Wheeler was unapproachable directly as she was definitely outside his class. She would just brush him off if he tried to talk to her, she had no interest in someone like him, he knew that much, and giving his number to her or asking hers in school was a no-go.

”Fucking fuck!” he yelled frustrated, hitting the wheel several times.

***

Steve parked his car behind the video rental and got out. His shift wasn't yet on, but he had decided that it was the best place to go and do something useful instead of sulking at home.

Robin greeted him surprised when he walked in and headed straight for the back room door. ”Hey, what are you doing here? Your shift isn't on yet for an hour at least.”

”Yeah, I know. I just decided that I could do some of the rewinds ahead of time so that it won't get too busy in the evening. You know how the Friday nights are, and I'm here alone tonight,” Steve said while passing the desk, not even glancing at her.

Robin frowned and followed Steve to the back room. ”Something's up, I know,” she asked, crossing her arms. ”Spit it our, Harrington.”

Steve sat in front of the VHS recorders, grabbed a stack of tapes and started inserting them to the machines. He said nothing as he pressed rewind on them one after another.

”So...How did last night go?” she asked after a while.

”It was ok, I guess.”

”Ok? You guess? What the hell Steve? You couldn't speak about anything else the whole week and it turned out 'ok I guess'?”

Steve slumped at the chair and turned to look at Robin. ”Honestly, I thought it was great. And I mean really great. For the both of us. We drove around in his car and chatted about everything. He's troubled, but there's a lot going on under the skin. He doesn't have anyone he can talk to, and to be able to do that seemed to be really important to him. To be able to just talk as himself and not to be judged for it,” Steve said. ”I really like him, Robin. When I first saw him, I didn't think I could say that about him under any circumstances. Now...” He shook his head. ”I thought we really hit it off. But today I saw nothing in him even resembling that what I saw of him last night. I guess it was just a one-time thing. For him to let out some steam, and now he's back to his own self.”

”But did you at least kiss?”

Steve blushed. ”Well, yes, but I don't know if that counts for anything.”

”How was it?”

Steve couldn't help but smile. ”Perfect. It was perfect. I couldn't keep my hands off him, but I also didn't want to push it either. It was just one kiss, but...” His voice trailed off.

Robin grinned. ”If it was that good I wouldn't worry about it. So, when are you seeing again?”

Steve's face turned somber. ”I don't know.”

Robin frowned. ”How so? I assume you can at least call each other?”

”That's the thing. I didn't remember to give him my number. And my family's numbers aren't listed. There's no way he can get it unless someone gives it to him.”

”Well, is his number listed? Or has he ever rented anything?”

”I don't...remember. And I don't know about the listing.”

”Well, we're going to find out then,” Robin said and stomped out of the room.

”Hey! I can't just call him,” Steve ran after her. ”There's Max. If she answers the phone when I'm calling, Billy's secret might get out. I'm not supposed to even like him, so why would I be calling him?”

Robin was already skimming through the rental records on the computer. ”Here it is!” she said excited. ”Hargrove, Billy. With address and number and all. Hmm...and with all the rental records, he's been coming in a lot lately. And he definitely has a taste for splatter films,” she grimaced. ”Steve, why are you this dumb?” she turned to look at him curiously.

”I haven't had any shifts in, like, a month. SATs, remember?”

”All these possibilities and you haven't had a clue,” Robin scolded him, but smiled. ”Well, there you have it,” Robin said and scribbled down the number and the address on a paper. She handed it to Steve. ”Got get him, tiger.”

Steve rolled his eyes but took the paper. Then he smiled. ”Thanks.”

”You're welcome. In my assessment, Harrington, you're clearly head over heels and can't think straight,” she smiled. ”Now go finish those rewinds. I'll keep filling the shelves as soon as you have those tapes ready.”

***

Billy was trying to think furiously a way to contact Steve. He had been going to the video rentals few times a week to try to catch him on his shift for weeks, but the guy has stayed away from work diligently throughout the whole SAT season and apparently studying. He felt deflated. He wouldn't have any shot at any college, and it was futile for him to study extra to even try. He would end up as a construction worker at best if he was lucky. But in a town like Hawkins...Even that was depending on sheer luck.

He looked at his watch. It was about time for supper and he couldn't miss it unless he wanted to have a very unpleasant reminder of what followed if he didn't obey the orders his father set for him. The fucking bastard was making his life a misery in all the possible ways and now this, too, was worrying him. He really didn't need any more issues in his life, he had enough of those. But Steve was a bright light in all that darkness and he had to find away to contact him. Though he could try the rental once more, quickly, if he turned around now. He anyway had some films he had to return.

#harringrove #harringrove fanfiction #steve harrington #billy hargrove #fan fiction #stranger things #dacre montgomery #joe keery #stranger things fanfiction #my harringrove #Finney13 writes #Suometar writes

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paulinedorchester · 2 years

Text

Hastings, August 1945

This takes place during (a reimagined version of) ‘The Hide.’ It’s a highly preliminary version of something that may or may not end up in a future story. It contains a very subtle preview into my official WIP (new OC!), but it’s way out of sequence in the Victory Roll universe, so for the time being, at least, it’s a Tumblr exclusive.

Andrew isn’t going into marriage as some sort of wide-eyed innocent. Foyle knows that much. He doesn’t know who any of those girls might have been (excepting one, apparently). Not sure that I want to, he thinks.

He’s in no position to disapprove, though. He knows that as well. At some point he’s going to have to tell Andrew about the consequences of that fact. Sooner rather than later, to judge from what’s in the Brighton papers today.

On the other hand, he can’t help wondering how well prepared Sam is for what’s ahead of her. How much would a vicar’s only daughter — nearly twenty-six years old now, been away from home since early in the war — but her parents were no longer young by the time she was born, products of an earlier era, her father tried to prevail on her to return home in 1940, kept talking about ‘moral hygiene’ — how much would she be likely to know about, well, physical intimacy? Perhaps he ought to ask his sister-in-law to sound her out. They’d got on well when Pamela was in Hastings on war business, a couple of years ago.

The point, however, is Andrew. Surely, as his father, I have a duty to offer him some sort of guidance. And indeed, he has noticed Andrew looking at times, not as though he’s getting cold feet, but pensive and, yes, faintly worried.

They play chess that evening: badly, both of them. A hot day has turned into an uncomfortably warm night. Foyle is distracted by the day’s news. Sam has gone to Brighton overnight and wouldn’t say why, which has left Andrew unsettled. After a bit more than an hour they agree to a draw.

‘I’m beginning to understand why the Yanks like ice in their drinks,’ Andrew remarks.

His father offers one of his upside-down smiles. ‘A few years ago, when... ’ he begins, then stops abruptly, realising that he’s come dangerously close to a blunder. Though it’s quite possible Andrew knows about that by now, he thinks. Still... ‘Well, a few years ago I met an American soldier who told me that he wanted to come back to England after the war was over and go into business, selling plumbing and heating equipment. Perhaps he’ll do refrigeration as well.’

Andrew laughs.

‘Andrew,’ Foyle goes on. ‘If there’s anything at all that you want to, um, discuss — well, look, you’ve only to say so.’

Andrew’s smile fades a bit. ‘Thank you,’ he replies, and then falls silent, looking into the near distance.

The next day dawns cooler, with a hint of Autumn in the air, almost. Andrew meets Sam’s coach. She is cheerful, she holds his free hand as they make their way to Stonefield Road, but she won’t say what took her to Brighton — only that she wasn’t able to accomplish her errand, and that it’s perfectly all right for now, but she’ll have to go back at the end of the month, after the wedding.

‘I’ve already made an appointment,’ she says, and then abruptly changes the subject. ‘I stopped with the Milners,’ she tells him. ‘Clemmie — the baby — is perfectly lovely. And you know, I’m beginning to quite like Edith. She’s a bit of a pepper pot, I suppose, but I get the feeling that she’d be an awfully good person to have on your side if there were any trouble!’

After supper is put away Andrew goes upstairs for a time. Then Foyle hears his son descending the stairs very slowly, as though so preoccupied with something that he must remind himself to take each step.

Reaching the ground floor, Andrew remains in the hall for a moment, lost in thought. Then he moves to the sitting room doorway and stands there uncertainly.

‘Sam’s visit to Brighton — go well?’ Foyle asks.

‘Oh — well, she had a pleasant time, apparently, but whatever it she went there to do, she wasn’t able to do it. I still don’t know what it was. Said she’d have to go back after we’re married.’

‘Hm.’

‘Dad, um, you said last night... ’ Andrew trails off, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

‘What’s on your mind, Andrew?’ his father offers after a moment.

Andrew makes a visible effort to gather himself together.

‘Is it true,’ he begins.

He breaks off, then starts again.

‘Is it true that it hurts girls the first time?’

Foyle tries to hide his surprise.

Not girls, then, he thinks. Women.

#foyle's war fan works #sam/andrew #for s/a wednesday #(a day late)

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nataliaphantomhivesblog · 3 years

Text

Newsflash: Dazai cares for Chuuya

Before reading any further, I will be talking about stormbringer, so spoilers ahead!! Translation credits go out to: @popopretty on tumblr, make sure to give this kind human some love and appreciation<3

Also if you want to read the first few chapters of stormbringer: @buraihatranslations is currently translating it, give them much love and appreciation as well, they deserve it!!

Honestly, I have been so obsessed with Soukoku lately and I think the reason behind this is because when it comes to Soukoku, their feelings for each other are not as easy to grasp as love or hate, it is much more profound than that. There is care, hurt, trust, resentment, companionship, bitterness, and consideration...And ironically enough, thats just the tip of the iceberg.

If we break down their individual feelings towards each other, it will be easier to understand their bond.

On Chuuya's end, his feelings are much more clear due to his expressive personality. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, he can try and hide what he feels towards Dazai but his true feelings tend to unravel easily.

He sometimes tries to mask his feelings towards Dazai by throwing insults, but his facial expressions are enough to contradict what he is saying.

Chuuya's feelings towards Dazai can be easier to comprehend. He obviously feels this certain betrayal due to the fact Dazai left the Port Mafia. Not to mention, he and Dazai have always had a rivalry relationship.

In the Soukoku wiki page, it is stated that Chuuya is aware of Dazai not experiencing a proper childhood, therefore allows him to act as childish as he can and lets him tease him relentlessly. I don't know how reliable this source is, but either way I think its worthy enough to add.

In the Dragon head conflict when Dazai was out of sight, Chuuya told Mori to forget about Dazai. That was until Hirotsu mentioned a microscope, Chuuya quickly realizes it was code language because he remembered a previous conversation where Dazai says he needs a microscope to be able to see Chuuya properly.

The moment he figured out it was a tracker, Chuuya did not hesitate to jump in and rescue Dazai. But here is the catch: No one but Chuuya knew about the microscope, if Chuuya really didn't care for Dazai he wouldn't have mentioned the microscope and kept all this under wraps, leaving Dazai in a mess.

Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life. He never hesitates to leave his life on Dazai's hands when it has to come to it. Chuuya and Dazai have known each other for years, for Chuuya to be able to trust Dazai that much is because Dazai also cares for him too, right?

The answer here is yes, Dazai cares for Chuuya. In a superficial level, it doesn't seem like Dazai truly cares, but I can assure you that he does care for him. Weather you like to think of his care in a platonic or romantic manner, the care Dazai has for Chuuya is undeniable and extremely significant for Dazai's character.

I think that stormbringer establishes this idea even further. There is one specific moment in this light novel that shows his genuine concern towards Chuuya's well being:

"There is one problem." Dazai cut off his sentence hesitantly. "It has nothing to do with the sucess rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... It may require some time to decide."

"What's with you?" Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. "Stop dramatizing it. Just hurry up and say it."

"I said earlier about this control spell to open the 'gate' that is used to reset the command inside Chuuya, right?" Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. "If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will be erased. That means...even if the memory erasure was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well."

"What?"

"I told you before right, the memory erasure command. The only way we can confirm if Chuuya is human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means..." Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. "If we use that control spell, the method to confirm if Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good."

The time had stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and looked towards Dazai but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

"Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not." Dazai looked at his pocket watch, gave it a glance and continued. "I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order for my men to wait... You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess its hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around."

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked down the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai fixated in his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn't afford more than that.

Inside Dazai's head, he was planning a procedure to swith to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

This section in stormbringer is personally one of my favorites, this is a very rare moment between both of them, but especially for Dazai. Like I stated earlier Chuuya wears his emotions on his sleeves, therefore even if he tries to mask his care with insults, its still painfully noticable that he genuienly looks after Dazai. Chuuya also sometimes show a vulnerable side of himself to Dazai, especially after using corruption.

Dazai on the other hand is extremely unreadable. Its hard to understand his true intentions and if he really cares for people or only sees them as a pawn. In this moment though, Dazai was being painfully genuine. Dazai literally prioritized Chuuya over the mission. He was already thinking of coming up with an alternative plan just in case Chuuya refused, obviously the sucess rate of the alternative plan would be lesser than the actual plan Dazai had in mind, he choose Chuuya's wellbeing over a mission.

In this section, Dazai wasn't throwing jokes or witty remarks, he was being serious. Because Dazai knows how desperately Chuuya wants to be human. He knows how important being human is to Chuuya.

Dazai wasn't manipulating Chuuya by giving him the chance to decide, we can see that Dazai was literally showing a lot of hesitation when mentioning this to him, we also get to see what Dazai was thinking, and we can tell he wasn't thinking about manipulative his movements in any way. All of this wasn't coming out of manipulation, it was coming out of pure care.

After six steps, Dazai reached the stair. He stepped on the stair and started walking down. Three steps down the stair, he heard a *clang*, a cool sound of metal echoing behind him. It sounded like the metal was kicked by the sole of someones shoes. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, Dazai turned around in surprise.

There was already no one at the top.

Dazai was dazed for a moment, then he loosened his lips and laughed.

"Trying to act cool, huh?" Dazai smiled, both annoyed and relieved. Then he turned on his radio and sent out his order. "Chuuya has sallied, everyone get ready for battle."

I personally love this part so much, relief washed over Dazai the moment he noticed that Chuuya was going to go through with the first plan, which proves my point that he wasn't manipulating him and how Dazai was under a lot of stress because he wasn't sure if the alternative plan would be as effective as his original one.

Yet he still was willing to go through the alternative plan if Chuuya refused, because Dazai values him and regards his wellbeing.

Dazai was being surprisingly gentle in this section, he was being honest. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions here, just a boy looking after his partner.

"So i'm going to send an order to my men to prepare for action... Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay." Chuuya turned to Dazai. "Why are you asking me such a thing?"

Dazai didn't answer right away.

That was an unusual expression. It's like he was trying to say something, but he had to arrange the words in his head to decide where he should start. An expression he rarely shows.

This was right before Dazai drops the bomb to Chuuya about the memory erasure command. He was even asking for Chuuya's opinion on sending his men to get ready, this was the first time Dazai ever showed actual concern without masking it with witty remarks. You can tell that Chuuya isn't used to this.

And when you think about it, when Dazai and Chuuya have missions together, Dazai always uses corruption as a last resort and he always allows Chuuya to make the decision if they will be using it or not.

I personally belive that the main reason Chuuya trusts Dazai with using corruption is because The Sheep used to exploit his powers too much, but Dazai leaves the decision to use corruption up to Chuuya. Dazai understands the physical and mental toll corruption takes on Chuuya and therefore leaves the choice up to him.

Theres another section in stormbringer that I really enjoy, it doesn't necessairly show solicitude but I still think this should still be taken into consideration:

"You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don't you?"

"I am," Dazai laughed with a sigh. "There is no way a man-made code could create such a personality that I detest so much."

Throughout the whole story, Dazai is more than determined that Chuuya is human. The main reason Dazai finds Chuuya so intresting is because of how frighteningly human Chuuya can be, because of the fact that he always wears his emotions on his sleeves, something Dazai rarely does himself. Thats personally a nice sentiment from Dazai's end, even when Chuuya struggles completely when it comes to believing in his own humanity, Dazai still can't help but see him as a human being.

Also I am aware that Dazai literally said he detests Chuuya here but he also sighed and laughed while stating this, showing us that he isn't being serious about hating him.

And its not only in stormbringer were he shows his concern towards Chuuya. In fact, in this following manga pannel Dazai is telling Chuuya that if he is willing to listen him, he will stage his own escape so that Chuuya doesn't get punnished.

Honestly, if Dazai didn't care enough for Chuuya, he wouldn't have mentioned this to him. Chuuya didn't care enough to realize that he literally unwillingly freed Dazai which would get the pm mad at him, so the fact that Dazai is literally helping him out is no doubt out of care for him. If Dazai didn't have any regard for Chuuya he would've not staged his escape or mentioned anything to Chuuya, eventually incriminating him.

There are many misconceptions when it comes to Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya, people think that he doesn't care for him due to the fact that he left the Port Mafia, leaving Chuuya behind. But heres the thing: Dazai's intentions had nothing to do with Chuuya. He left the organization for his own good, he left it to fullfill Oda's wish.

"If Dazai cared for Chuuya then why didn't he take Chuuya with him?" the reason is simple, he knows how much the PM means to Chuuya. In stormbringer it is shown that Chuuya feels as if his humanity is attached to the people he is loyal to, in this case its the port mafia. Verlaine wanted to get rid of the pm because he believed that the pm is what kept Chuuya's humanity, eventually making Chuuya believe that he is only human if he stays loyal to the pm. Dazai knows this. Thats exactly why he didn't take Chuuya with him or even explains to Chuuya why he left, he knows it would be selfish to basically rip Chuuya's sense of humanity apart.

I have a feeling that if Dazai told Chuuya about the real reason he left the Port Mafia, Chuuya will not only feel conflicted about being in the pm, but he would also have an inner conflict with himself as a human.

People also think Dazai may not really care for him because of the fact that after the fight against Lovecraft he actualy deserted him, maybe that part was truly just supposed to be seen as simple humor, but either way I want to talk about it. Chuuya's only request to Dazai was to take him back to base safe, so why did Dazai leave Chuuya behind?

I mean he has carried Chuuya back to saftey before with no problem, for example in stormbringer when Chuuya uses corruption for the first time Dazai carries him back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so that he could say goodbye to his passing friends.

The reson behind this is because Mori needs to know that unlike Dazai, Chuuya is absolutely loyal to him. Leaving Chuuya the way he did will make Mori believe that these two really are at each others throats and that Dazai is insignificant to Chuuya. Making it seem that for Chuuya, the mafia comes first before anything else.

Therefore Dazai established Chuuya's saftey within the mafia since not only does Mori want these two to be hostile with each other, he doesn't want Chuuya to eventually turn against him if he truly found out more about Dazai's true reason of departure. Then again, this isn't canon but it is a logical assumption.

Not to mention that although Dazai did leave him behind, he folded Chuuya's coat and hat before taking his leave. There is also an an extra chapter where Ozaki Kouyou was talking with Chuuya but when he left he forgot his coat, which made Kouyou came across the coat; where she noticed a badge sewed inside saying "Name: Hatrack", she smiled fondly thinking to herself that some things just never change, in this case, Dazai and Chuuya's bond.

Dazai literally took his time to sew this into his coat just to tease him, it was a simple gesture but it shows us how their dynamic will never change. No matter what these two go through, they will always share a bond that consists on teasing, trust and underlying care.

All of this actually makes that theory of Dazai planting a bomb under Chuuya's car for the sole reason that the PM doesn't find Chuuya as an acomplice who aided Dazai on his escape much more feasable.

For Dazai to just plant a bomb under Chuuya's car with no motive makes no sense because if Dazai's true intentions were to simply mess with Chuuya, he would've most likely made it clear at that time. Dazai always has an underlying motive behind his actions, and in this case it is very likely that he did that for Chuuya's sake.

Don't get me wrong, I am aware that the bomb incident could've just been a comedic moment and I shouldn't look too much into it, but there is still a posibility, right?

These two hold so much trust and care for one another, yet they also hold a lot of bitterness and resentment. In the end the good aspects of their dynamic outweighs the bad.

Either you see these two in a platonic or romantic way, you can't tell me that their bond isn't significant.

Thank you so much for reading!! I wanted to talk about this for a while because I feel like people misinterpret Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya a lot so I hope this clears up things a bit<3

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lys1 · 3 years

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This is an Asra x fem!reader. NSFW for sure, porn WITH plot <3 this is my first post on tumblr so feedback appreciated.

——————

You walk through the dusty streets of the Market towards the palace. Hundreds of stalls loom up on either side, alive and vibrant with colors, smells, and tastes. It feels good to be back in the heart of Vesuvia.

You turn to look at Asra beside you, keeping your exhausted pace. It had been 8 days since Nadia had asked Asra and yourself to go check out some mysterious magic happenings on the outskirts of the city. You scoff to yourself, mysterious indeed, it took half the time to even track down the little pixie creatures causing ruckus and mayhem. Eventually, after some exhaustive spell casting and careful teamwork the two of you had managed to return the troublesome pixies to the proper magic realm they escaped from.

You yawn tiredly, loosening the emerald colored traveling scarf from around your neck. It was afternoon now, and the sun was beating down.

"Almost there now," Asra spoke up, breaking the silence. He looked fondly over at you, a smile lighting up his sun kissed face. Even so, you could see that the time away from home had taken its toll on him too. You were both more than ready to hit the hay.

You nod slightly, keeping back another yawn. "I hope Nadia has food for us, I'm starved." The villagers in the towns you had visited were kind and generous, but nothing could beat the delectable food that the palace prepared.

Asra chuckled, "I'm sure that right after we fill her in on the successful pixie management she'll immediately be tending to us like a mother hen. You know how she is, she loves to provide." He pushed back his curls from his face to wipe his brow of sweat, smiling as he too imagined the delicious array of food that was about to be offered. He picked up his pace at the thought, making you jog a bit to keep up.

The Palace gates soon loomed over the two of you, sparkling and gold in the summer sun. The guards at the gate looked up as you approached.

"Ah, the magicians! I trust everything went alright?" One asked, clearly recognizing the famous duo. He smiled warmly, maybe a little starstruck.

Asra returned his smile, "it was simply magical."

You rolled your eyes at the terribly overused pun as the guard gave a hearty laugh. The two of you were waved in and informed that the countess was waiting for you in the dining room.

"Oh even better," you groaned in appreciation. "We get to eat while we talk. I love Nadia." Your stomach growls in agreement. Asra flashes you a beautiful smile as his feet climb the stairs alongside yours.

"And clearly," he adds, "she loves us back!" He was particularly looking forward to some blue tongued skink, Nadia knew it was his favorite.

It only took a couple minutes to reach the dining hall. One of the servers was bustling out the moment You and Asra rounded the corner to the door.

"Oh, hello!" They said, giving a small polite now. "The countess is expecting you! Please, come right in." They moved aside, holding the large ornate door open with one of their hands.

You wink and whisper your thanks as the two of you make your way in. Immediately your mouth fills with saliva at the smell that filled the room. The table was large and being filled with platters of many foods of different origins. The gold dinnerware twinkled delightedly up at you and the red wine glimmered deep and inviting.

"Welcome, friends." Nadia opens her arms, rising from her chair. She had just been sipping on some pre-dinner tea while waiting for her guests. She was smiling, and looking absolutely magnificent in her shining purple and gold robes.

"Hello Nadi," Asra said, joining you and her in a quick hug before seating himself at the table. You follow, sitting beside him as Nadia resumes her seat. The servants bring the last platter of steaming dumplings out at that moment.

You sigh contentedly. "This looks amazing Nadia, I feel spoiled."

Nadia smiles, the faintest blush on her high cheeks. "Anything for my favorite magicians, willing to travel far and wide in aid of Vesuvians in need." She adores, raising her wine glass. "To my dear friends, what I would do without you, I wouldn't know."

You and Asra raise your glasses with her, each of your own cheeks now a healthy pink. Nadia declares the meal to begin and you all dig in.

"Oh my, what troublemakers!" Nadia declares, after hearing the story about the pixies. The food was being relished amongst every plate and the wine was flowing steadily. "I can't believe such tricky little creatures exists." She continues, eyes sparkling as she pours another cup of wine.

"Yes, well, the magic world is something else entirely." Asra laughs, relaxed and feeling full. He was lounging comfortably, one hand gripping your thigh, another holding his gold goblet. His skin was warm and aglow.

You had your own hand comfortably nestled in his snowy white locks, massaging slow circles into his scalp. It had been a long 8 days and you were both happy to finally be able to relax into each other while having pleasant conversation.

"You should have seen the way they caused mischief," you add. “Oh I felt terrible for that village. So many upside down cows to turn over." Asra smiles as you tell the story, closing his eyes and leaning into your gentle touch. It was, to put it simply, the best feeling he could imagine. Well, almost.

Nadia chuckles again. "Well, I'm just glad that they are gone and we can laugh about this." She says, sighing in slight relief. "Vesuvia is fortunate to have two talented magicians like yourself. I am fortunate to have you as my friends. Your well deserved payment is in your guest room."

Asra blinks, "oh, you're offering us a place to stay tonight?" He asked, the gratefulness clear in his tone. You couldn't help but agree, walking back to the shop did not really sound like something either of you wanted to do. Especially, you muse, lifting your glass to your lips, after how many wine jugs the three of you had emptied.

"Why of course," Nadia looks surprised that we even had to ask. "And," she continued, "use of my personal bath this evening. You two more than deserve some relaxation and.. fun." She ends her sentence after a slight pause, giving you both a side glance full of humor.

You feel your cheeks go slightly hotter at the obvious suggestion. However, embarrassment aside, nothing else sounded better right now. You look down at your lover who was now lounging against your lap and smile. Oh how far too long it had been, the pixies had been relentless and had not offered much down time.

Asra chuckles, clearly more comfortable with the suggestion. He always had been a bit more confident when it came to discussing your private life. You found it quite endearing.

"Oh Nadi," he smiles. "You just made this evening even better somehow. I can't wait to take my love there and-"

Nadia waves her hand, laughing at your horrified face. "Please, please, I certainly don't need to know details." She grins, "just go, and take the wine."

Asra didn't need more encouragement and sat up promptly. He looks down at you, a shadow of hunger in his lilac eyes, offering you his hand. You take it, biting your lip as his gaze continues to rake over your body in the sort of way that makes you squirm.

"Thank you, Nadia." You say breathlessly, and a little sheepishly.

Nadia smiles, "anytime." She says, laughter still ringing in her voice. "Now go, before Asra here makes love to you on this table."

Your eyes open wide, shocked to hear her say such dirty words before ducking your head down in embarrassment.

Asra rests his hand on your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear, "you heard the lady." His voice is sultry and thick with want. "The table is looking awfully inviting right now."

Quickly, you turn and head out the door, Asra following close behind. The bath is not far down the hall and the two of you make great time. Asra's hand is at your waist, pressing in such a way that you know means desire. You hadn't realized how badly he had been missing you.

You make it to the door and turn to look back at your lover. You gulp at the hot scene behind you. Asra's eyes are half-lidded, purple irises cloudy with lust. His shirt is already half unbuttoned, revealing his delicious golden tan skin, smooth and beautiful. He's looking at you in a way that makes you think he hasn't eaten in a week and you are a five course meal.

He closes in, pushing you against the door and reaching for the handle. "You're terribly slow," he says, voice already rough, desire prominent. He pushes the handle and the latch clicks, the door swings in behind you.

The two of you tumble into the sweet smelling room. Obviously Nadia informed a servant ahead of time of the use of this room because the bath was already filled and steaming. On top of the water pink rose petals float, filling the area with a soft floral scent.

Asra closes the door with a soft click and looks over his shoulder at you. "Oh my dear," he murmurs, taking the couple strides to wrap you up in his strong arms. "I've missed hearing you cry my name, kissing those lips, and feeling your skin." His fingers travel up your waist and over your stomach. They linger, just a moment at the swell under your breast before finally cupping your face in his hands.

You tremble under his touch, body suddenly aching with need. You bring your own hands up to his chest and splay your fingers out so you can feel his heart beating. It's fast and erratic, excited to be close to you.

"Sweetheart," Asra whispers, voice heady. It's intoxicating to hear him talk to you in such a way. You look up at him and catch him licking his lips. You bring your own up to meet his, tongue out to capture his. He groans, melting into the kiss, gripping your hair so tightly it's almost painful.

You gasp, mouth opening and he runs his tongue along your lips, tasting the wine you both had shared. "Delicious," he says against your skin, tasting more and more. His hot open mouth kisses travel from your lips to your cheek, jaw, and finally resting on your neck. Asra loves to leave marks, and he takes your skin between his teeth intending to do exactly that.

Your moan comes out hoarse and you feel heat starting to pool between your legs. They feel shaky and weak, unable to withstand such torment.

Asra steadies you and pulls back briefly, cheeks flushed hot, want written all over his face. "We," he states, "are wearing far too many clothes for a bath."

You laugh and take his shirt in your hands. "I agree," you say, pulling at the remaining buttons. They come free easily and soon a glorious, shirtless Asra is standing before you. You drink in the sight unashamedly, totally enthralled with your lover. Gradually, though slowed by each other's groping hands, you both end up undressed.

Asra grabs your thighs and hoists you up onto his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your breasts into his soft skin. He groans appreciatively, nuzzling his face into your chest breathing deeply, and walks the two of you over to the edge of the bath.

The water is still very warm as it licks your skin. You jump in surprise and moan slightly as it overtakes your aching folds and up over your ass. "Ahh-" you sigh, slumping into the crook of Asra's neck. "This is so good."

Asra hums his agreement before taking your chin between his fingers and directing you too look at him. His eyes are swimming with love, need, and an absolute desire to ravish you. You swallow hard, unable to look away.

"I want you." He says simply, barely above a whisper. He maneuvers your body so your back is against his chest. You lean your head back into him and relax in the fragrant water. Asra snakes his left arm around your waist and trails his fingers from your belly button downwards.

You bite back a squeal as his trained fingers circle the small nub at the top of your slit. He adds pressure, rubbing you in a manner that makes you crazy. Your hips wiggle back and you feel him, hard and straining, pressing into your ass. His breath hitches only for a second before he leans down to pepper soft kisses on your neck and shoulders.

His other hand makes it’s way up to your right breast and he expertly rolls your perked nipples between two fingers. Your whole body shudders in response to his actions.

“Ah, fuck Asra,” you choke out, moving your hips to meet his fingers as he slides them down your slick towards your now dripping hole. He wastes no time plunging two in, enjoying the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

Asra lifts his lips from your skin and brings his mouth to your ear. “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you. Pretty and wet for my fingers, aching to be filled.” He curls them as he says that, relishing in the soft gasps that fall from your trembling lips.

You groan as he licks the shell of your ear, hot breath teasing on the sensitive skin. “You,” your voice falters a second as Asra’s fingers continue to explore your insides in a way that makes you grip his strong thighs on either side of you. “You are ready for me too.” You finally gasp out, finding the strength to grind back against Asra’s swollen cock. You knew if you could see it, it would be an angry red and leaking precum, desperate to be buried to the hilt inside of you.

Asra’s breath comes out in a short gasp that makes you smirk in satisfaction. At least you still have a little control left. That thought flies out your brain a second later when Asra pinches your nipple hard then twists, making you cry out in painful pleasure.

“Watch yourself, my love.” He coos playfully, no remorse in his words. You grit your teeth, taking in the torture that both of his skilled hands are laying upon you. You know what he wants, and it is oh so tempting to give in. You’re almost at war with yourself as your back arches on its own accord in rapt pleasure.

“Oh please, please.” You finally break, body shaking. You reach your arms back and thread your fingers through Asra’s fluffy locks before gripping hard. “Asra please fuck me already.” You plead, unable to care anymore that you were begging.

You feel Asra’s fingers slow to a stop inside you and then remove themselves. You almost groan in disappointment but you know better.

Asra flips your body around so you’re straddling his hips. You gasp when suddenly you’re faced to face with your beautiful lover. He looks positively stunning, the soft moonlight coming in from the high windows bathing him in a pearlescent light. His skin is glowing with a cool sheen, and his breath is leaving parted lips shallowly. Not to mention, his hard cock straining against your stomach, just begging for attention.

You bring your hand down and rest your index finger lightly on the slit. Asra shudders at the touch, but certainly not complaining. He’s slick, just as you expected, and you lightly circle his tip.

“You go on and on about how ready I am.” You tease, “but look at you, practically cumming into my hand already.” You lift your fingers and bring them to your mouth, tasting his salty sweetness. Asra’s diet is rich with fruit and vitamins, and oh how you loved how he tasted as a result.

Watching you lick your fingers coyly has Asra’s eyes drooping with lust. “My dear, oh my love,” he whispers. “How I am going to fuck you until I fill you with that cum you love so much. Because it’s true, you love it don’t you.” He says, voice sugar sweet, expecting an answer.

You blush, despite your best efforts. You look at him, but he only blinks in return, waiting.

“Yes,” you whisper, voice thicker with need than you realized. You give up trying to be bashful. “Yes, yes. I love your cum, how it tastes, how it feels when you fill me up. I want it so bad.” You beg, looping your arms around his neck so your lips are just inches apart. “You have my heart, soul, and body.” The words tumble out naturally, “and gods, do I need you now.”

Asra bites your bottom lip harshly before fully overtaking your mouth with his. He’s moaning, almost desperately, into you. “I love you, my dearest one.” He pants, gripping your ass with his hands. You feel your hips being lifted up and your body quakes knowing what’s coming.

You feel the tip of Asra on the heat of your slit and you sigh deeply, “I love you too, Asra.” You say, bending your neck so your head rests on his muscular shoulder. Your lips find a sweet spot on his neck, an anchor, as he lowers you down onto him. It’s tantalizingly slow, allowing you to feel every inch as you sink lower in the water until he’s fully sheathed in you.

“Oh gods,” Asra groans, both from feeling you pulse around him and from your playful lips on his neck. “You are a gift to me.” He says, breathless from the feelings.

You smile, in delight from your lovers sweet words. Slowly and carefully you lift your hips up, at the same time dragging your tongue up his smooth neck to his ear. You suck and nibble on the lobe as you find your rhythm, bouncing steadily on the thick shaft. He feels absolutely amazing in you, filling you perfectly.

Asra grips your butt underwater with his strong hands and leans his head to the side, giving you better access. He guides your hips to a steady pace, humming appreciatively when you comply. “It has been far too long since I’ve felt your sweet pussy squeezing me like this.” He says, without skipping a beat.

You don’t have time to blush before he picks up the pace, leaving you moaning loudly into his ear as he hits the spot that makes you crazy. “Ah fuck, I agree, I do agree.” You manage, finally finding the words.

The water sloshes around your two bodies, stirring the rosy scent into the air. It’s smells amazing and makes you dizzy with pleasure as every sense seems to be met. Asra huffs gently next to your ear, holding you tightly against his body.

You savor the feelings of your chests sliding against each other, the feeling sleek from the warm water and sweat mixing. Your hips meet his, snapping against each other with quick splashes, making you see stars as he hits every time the spot that has you go wild.

The muscles in your lower stomach tighten and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re screaming Asra’s name for the whole palace to hear. “Baby,” you say breathlessly, kissing any skin you can reach. His cheek, the corner of his eye, his plump lips. “I’m going to cum.” You whisper into his mouth. He swallows your delicious words and licks your lips in response.

“I love when you do that,” he says, a slight chuckle in his words. He wraps his arms tightly around your middles before bringing his hands up to your shoulder blades and raking his nails down your spine. You shudder at the erotic feeling and arch your back against his hands. He sighs happily when you give him access to this gorgeous view, stretched out before him, stomach and tits shining gloriously in front of him. He puts his mouth on your bellybutton and licks up to the cavity between your breasts.

“Oh mmm,” he hums, pleased with the sweet taste of your skin. “You are a delicacy amongst gods.”

You flush looking down at his lustful face, sucking on your skin, leaving marks where only he will see. He latches on to one of your nipples, moaning in immense pleasure at the feel of it in his mouth. When he nips at the sensitive skin you jolt, a small disruption in the steady bounce of your bodies.

“Damn,” you curse, words choking in your throat. Your nails dig into Asra’s shoulders as he re-establishes the torturing rhythm that has you shaking desperately against him.

“Let go for me,” he suggests in a sultry whisper that has you reeling with a feverish desire. The pressure in your core is building at an alarming rate as Asra thrusts into you, filling you every time to the point where you can barely hang on.

“I-“ you falter, eyes rolling as you feel that familiar tingle across all your limbs. Oh gods, you can’t stop it now. “Asra, oh fuck, ASRA-!” You scream head thrown back. Your walls clench, and the knot comes undone. It’s amazing, you almost want to laugh in pleasure at the feeling of coming around Asra’s cock. It’s so good you almost forget to breath.

Asra curses under his own breath as he fucks you through your high, barely holding on himself. You bring your head back down and kiss him deeply, tongue joining his. It’s a short lived battle to hang on and in a flurry of short gasps you feel him cumming inside you, unable to stop himself from the uncontrollable waves of pleasure that come from your hot walls clenching around him.

You both continue to kiss each other lovingly, slowing down gradually until you’re sitting on his lap. Eventually, you pull away a couple of inches, looking into your beloved’s eyes.

“Hello,” you say, smiling at your favorite magician. Asra’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, looking at you through hazy eyes. He kisses you again, gently, pleasantly.

“Hello,” he returns, after a minute. He runs his hands up your back, massaging as he goes. “You,” he adds lovingly, “are so beautiful.”

You smile adoringly. “Thank you, Asra.” You remove yourself from his lap and wade through the water towards the collection of bottles on the wooden shelf nearby. You grab a few that you felt suited the two of you best and turned to your lover. Asra had lifted his arms to rest on the sides of the bath and was looking at you with admiration.

“May I wash your hair?” You ask setting down the bottles, but keeping a lilac scented shampoo for Asra. He smiled at you, his face soft and kind.

“That would be amazing, my love.” He said, leaning his head back into the water to dampen it. You squeezed some of the lovely smelling shampoo into your hand and waited. Asra emerged a moment later and kissed you adoringly on the nose.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “For always taking care of me.”

You kissed him back, a peck, before turning him so his back was facing you. You rub your hands into a lather before working them into Asra’s soft hair.

“I always will, forever.” You say softly, happier than ever.

#asra alnazar #asra x reader #the arcana #arcana smut #asra smut #asra lemon #lemons #asra is so hot #I love him #lys writes

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staygolddindjarin · 3 years

Text

Grief

Chapter One: History

Din Djarin x Reader x a bunch of other star wars characters

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter Warnings: Oof this ones kinda angsty right off the bat- ⚠️ attempted suicide?? Kinda?? Age gap (reader is underage, but don't worry it's just for the sake of backstory and also there's no spicy, so...) mentions of death and afterlife, fluff if you like squint really hard

A/n: hello there... I'm sorry to inflict tumblr with this atrocity, but wattpad had to deal with it so tumblr can too. I wrote a different version of this on my wp with an OC name, but I know that not everyone cares for that so this won't include that. Also this series will be such a slow burn... prepare yourself ahead of time because it's going to be agonizing

Words: 6.3k+

SERIES MASTERLIST UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Part 1/?

"Pehea gar mar'eyir ni...."

How did you find me....

He came and sat beside me, the sound of metal scraping agaisnt the ground when he knelt first.

"Gar cuyir te shi solus tion'ad comes olar jii. Ni kar'taylir gar jate'shya gar mirdir Ni vaabir," He responded.

You are the only one who comes here now. I know you better than you think I do.

I heaved a deep breath before letting it out in an exhausted sigh. Speaking in my native tongue was something I always appreciated, but now sitting here it felt nearly uncomfortable, but there was a reason for that.

"I wanted to be alone," The words from my mouth were no longer in my language, and he shifted beside me, trying to convey his confusion without a word.

"Care to elaborate?" He suggested, his asking tone was harsh... but then so was everything else about him.

I didn't really feel like explaning my feelings at the moment. I didn't want to focus on the very thing he was asking about. Even though he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was asking.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you," I trailed off.

"Try me." His voice wasn't any softer, but the sincerity he rarely showed had seeped into his tone.

"I really don't think it's a good idea. You really won't understand, and for all I know you could make things worse off for me than they already are," I didn't like it when he let his guard down around me. I didn't like getting closer to him, even though I was supposed to.

"I can't force you. Whatever it is, I wouldn't get myself too worked up," He sounded hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it was by my words. He was too strong to be wounded by such trivial things.

He moved in his seat, beginning to stand, and for some reason the thought of being alone like I had originally intended seemed like a horrible idea.

I reached out to grip his arm. I kept my gaze forward, knowing that even if I looked at him I could not see his eyes.

"Stay."

He didn't hesitate. He sat down again, and I no longer felt guilt for the hurt in his voice a moment prior.

We sat for a moment in silence, just looking over the cliffside, into the deep canyons that wove in between settlements and encampments of our tribes and clans.

"I don't want this life," I whispered. I had only half hoped he would be paying enough attention to hear me. My voice was soft enough that he might not have.

"What do you mean?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, regretting the choice to even say what I did. I felt a shiver go down my arms, and I felt the wind come into the old open cavern, making the air around me chill. My arms were exposed, for I didn't expect the cold tonight. I didn't expect to be here this long.

"I'll turn sixteen in four days. I will either take the creed, or deny everything I've ever been taught. I'd leave if I do that," I finally gave a glance in his direction. He looked back at me, or at least the beskar did. I could never tell where his eyes were.

"You want to leave?" That pained tone of his voice had returned. The one I felt guilty for without actually believing I had done anything to cause it.

I did. I wanted to get off this planet. Away from the responsibility of becoming what everyone expected of me.

"I have to. It's the only way I will ever be at peace, but I'm not sure if I truly have the strength to stand in front of my family and deny the creed."

I could run away. I had some friends who were planning to jump a transport and join the rebellion against the empire.

They had offered me to be apart of this, but I had refused, believing that I would follow in my ancestors footsteps and take the creed. My father had already provided the beskar for my helmet to be made. It was already in the armourer's possession. All that was left was for me to come of age.

"Where did you go, just now?" He noticed my lack of attentiveness to my current reality, and brought me back to where I was. On the drafty cliffside, with my legs hanging over the end.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking about the future," I had admitted. Though I felt the need to stay emotionally distant from him, and not let myself develop a closeness, I knew I could trust him with my life, which is why I even revealed these things to him in the first place.

"What do you think your future will look like?" The tone that brought me guilt had again left his voice, but was replaced by something else... was it fear? I could not even think of theorizing that he could ever be scared. He was one of the bravest in his clan. Never had he shown an ounce of fear to anyone or anything. How stupid of me to even wonder.

"Merc and his crew are gonna stow away on a crate transport tomorrow. He has contact with the rebellion. He said that I could go with them if I was up for it," I looked down, almost embarrassed at admitting a plan of escape to someone so loyal to this place. Even though he wasn't born on this planet, and even though he wasn't a blood member of any tribe, the foundling was more of a mandalorian than I could ever be.

"You've agreed?"

"No. Not yet," I shook my head. I didn't feel like my reasons were valid. Having him sit beside me, and ask me these things made me realize that I needed to explain myself further.

"Din, I want to be free. I don't want to spend the rest of my life under a code that is so restricting to me, binding my every decision. Everything I'd do would have to be following after the creed."

He didn't respond, and even though his features were shrouded under the reflective surface of his beskar, I could tell he was thinking of something.

"I'm not yet sixteen, but when I am... I don't want to be locked down under a piece of metal. I don't want to have to be bound to this planet or a clan. I want to go some place far away and be something that is different than what everyone expects of me. I want to fight battles against the empire, I want to make my own rules. I want to be free to marry who I love, and not be betrothed to whoever my father chooses for me," I finished off my speech about freedom, but realized the last sentence too late. I should have chosen a better set of words.

Din's head hung down, looking at the wrist guards he wore. He shook his head back and forth and before I could interject, he began speaking.

"So that's why...." he trailed off. I was honestly too scared to say anything now. Why must I speak so bluntly and hurtfully honest to people? Perhaps it is because I had never gotten close to him that now I had no fear in what I said to his face.

"If the reason you plan to leave your family is because of me, then-"

"No," I said harshly, catching him off guard. I was usually snippy with others, but I had never before shown a tendency to be angry or intense with my speech. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with you."

"You have always shown enthusiasm towards coming of age. It's only now, when we are arranged, that you show any difference," He brought on certainty in his voice that I nearly couldn't deny, but the truth was... it really wasn't about him. "I can converse with your father, the rest of the clan... I will find a way to break it off if it will make you stay."

"Din, I don't want you to do that. If you don't believe me when I tell you that you are not the cause of this, then so be it, but I will not have you ruining your good name in my favor, when it won't even stop me," The heat of the moment provided actual, physical warmth for me in the time I was running my mouth off, but now that I had finished, and begun to calm down, I felt the freezing air on my arms again, wrapping them around myself and drawing my legs closer to generate more body heat.

"Are you cold?" He changed the subject, needing something- anything else to say.

"Its not exactly warm up here," My voice was low and sarcastic, but at hearing my words, Din stood up and stepped behind me. Before I even had a chance to ask him what he was doing, I felt his thick woolen cape being draped around my shoulders.

I smiled softly, not even a real, full smile. More of just a small tug from the side of my lips. My real smile was saved for later.

"Thank you."

He nodded as he sat back down, letting his legs fall over the cliffside.

"So you're gonna leave with them, aren't you?" His head turned to face me, but I couldn't dare try and stare at the beskar while thinking of what I would do. This choice was the beginning of the rest of my life.

"I think so," I didn't think. Thinking was what I had been doing too much of. Now I was certain. This was my choice. I was going to start new, and become something different. I may have been born on mandalore, but I was definitely not a mandalorian.

I had a rush of confidence come through me until I remembered what this meant. It all hit me like a dropship coming out of hyperspace. What was I thinking?

"No," I whispered. Din didn't understand my sudden discouragement, but he would soon.

"Merc and his friends already denied the creed. He's a foundling. They all are," I started to tear up as I realized what would happen to my family. The loss of a child in a clan is bad enough, but my family hadn't done anything to dessrve this. They were caring. They had shown me love. They had given me the best life I could ask for on a planet with such a religion.

"Second thoughts?" He asked genuinely, scooting closer beside me as to maybe get more information from my body language, or even my breathing.

"I can't do this. My family would be ruined. If I ran away, they would be punished for it," I felt tears coming up in my eyes. My clan was good to me. The people were kind, and I found solace there. Even if I had always dreamt about something bigger, I couldn't bear to let ruin come upon my family name. It wasn't fair to let that happen, especially when the only thing in the way was my own selfishness. "I can't leave my family."

I let the tears stream down my face, not even bothering to wipe them away. The contrast of the cold wind on my hot, tear streaked face had helped to calm me down a little.

"If you plan on staying, you understand that I am apart of your future here, don't you?"

"Din, I already told you before... you are not the reason I want to leave," I tried my best to keep myself together, but with my wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes, I didn't see how that could be an option.

What if there was another way to freedom?

I sat, trying to think of some stories that the other clan members would talk about.

"Din?"

He hummed in response, keeping his gaze on me.

"Has anyone in your clan ever mentioned afterlife?" I maybe should have taken a different approach to this. He seemed to be rendered speechless by my topic of conversation, but I had to ask.

"You mean after death?" He asked me and I nodded.

"I've heard some stories."

I thought about how it had been described to me. A paradise, with never-ending happiness, and unlimted freedom. Freedom.

"After you die, you appear in the world as another life. You can do whatever you want and no one has consequences for any of it. It's like a world without chaos. Everything is perfect," I remember every word as it comes out of my mouth. The words that were spoken to me, more like taught to me when I was a bit younger by the elders who had retired from their days of battle.

"It sounds too easy." He said, ripping me out of my fantasy.

"That's the point. You don't have to worry about anything or anyone, because you can do as you please, and everything will still be the same. All you have to do is die...."

"Like being reborn into a different world."

"Exactly."

I hesitated to take my safety blaster from it's holster under my hip, and when I did, I looked at it before pointing it out in the distance and testing the trigger. It shot a blast of lazer energy out into the air, landing somewhere beneath us in the canyon.

I decided that this was not an act to pursue at the moment, for Din was sitting right beside me, and the sight of watching a young girl pull the trigger against her own head might be an unpleasant one. Even for him, though he has seen worse.

I put the blaster back in it's holster and stand up from the rocky ground. Din follows suit, looking down at me with quiet concern. I wouldn't have known it until now, but I wondered if he had come to care for me at all during these last few weeks we had been betrothed.

I'd known him the majority of my life anyways, so I knew he must have felt some sort of attachment to me, but in what form, I hadn't ever cared to ask.

He kept breathing heavily as he looked down at me for a few moments, and it almost sounded like he wanted to ask me something. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

"Here's your cape back," I slid the material off my shoulders, trying to hand it back to him, but he pushed it back towards me.

"You should keep it for now. The sun is nearly down, it will only grow colder."

He reached his gloved hand up to my face, and I could swear I felt the warmth of his hand beneath the coarse leather.

I only nodded, and leaned forward, trying to lean my head into him, but he carefully stopped me, his hands on my shoulders. Instead he rested his helmet against my forhead, and the cold beskar wasn't such a bad feeling as it rested there.

"I won't let you down. I promise." He said, clueless of my plans for later tonight, after the tribes were asleep, and no one would be at the cliffside.

"I know you won't. You're a good man, Din Djarin." I paused, trying to gather better words. "A true Mandalorian if there ever was one."

The moment didn't last any longer because of how frigid the air was becoming. It was warmer back with the tribes, they always had a fire burning.

Without another word, we both left the old artillery cavern and hiked down the side of the canyon to get back to our own clan territory.

Once I was at the edge of mine, I turned around to utter a simple goodbye, and found that he was very close behind me. His hand came up and rested on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

Maybe this was the last time we would see each other. Tonight I would envoke my plan to freedom, to rebirth. Perhaps we would meet in another life. Perhaps I would have just enough memory of this life to try and find him in the next one. One where I will have freedom.

Tonight I had gotten closer to the metal clad Mandalorian than I ever had before. I didn't regret it. He listened to what I had to say, and there were few who ever did.

His hand fell from it's place on my shoulder, but I didn't let him walk away yet. I pulled him into an embrace, feeling him tense up for a moment before reciprocating. It took him a few seconds to let out the breath he was holding in, but when he did, he found himself relaxing into the comfort.

"Goodbye, Din," My voice wasn't sad, or overly sensitive in any way. I figured it actually sounded quite optimistic.

"You know I'll see you tomorrow." He said, reminding me of the clan meetings. Once a month the clans would gather and each tribe would go over the agenda for whatever was to happen soon. Battles were normally discussed, but tomorrow, me and a few of the others in the other clans would be talked about. Our ceremonial coming of age where we would take the creed.

"Yeah... right. Don't come looking for me, I don't plan on showing up," I said quietly, careful in anyone was to hear me.

He pulled me back at arms length and looked at me, but his black blast shield hid his features and I could not tell if he thought I was crazy or not.

"How come?" His voice was also quiet, as we noticed some of my clan passing by to get to the fire.

"Don't worry about it. You'll still see me tomorrow," I lied. Or did I? Everyone within the five neighboring tribes would probably see me tomorrow.

He nodded, pulling us all the way apart and stepping back.

"Good."

He didn't look like he was gonna walk away until I had gone into the hub of my clan's small village. I turned around and walked towards the large fire, seeing my mother. Her helmet was unmistakable. The pattern of the strill engraved into the side of the beskar. It was her signet. A worthy kill of her days in battle. I would never have one. I walked towards her when she noticed me.

Her modulated voice let out a small chuckle, before I stepped beside her.

"It is well to see you spending time with Din Djarin. Me and your father were afraid you may not have been fond of him," She kept her gaze on the fire, speaking only loud enough for me to hear her, given that the other mandalorians of our village were also gathering around the fire, conversing with each other the same way we were.

"I am fond of him, why would I not be?" I was unsure of what she meant. Sure, I had been keeping a distance between us since my father had arranged our marriage, but I never had shown that I wasn't fond of him. I was polite, and gave him attention when it was asked of me.

"Whenever I or your father bring up the discussion of your eighteenth birthday, you always seem to act like it's the plague," She was smirking under her helmet, and I could tell. I could always tell what face she made underneath her metal covering.

"Maybe it's the fact that I dread getting married at all. I'm not opposed to Din, though," I convinced her. I wouldn't have to try and do that again after tonight.

"Whatever it is, your father will be pleased to know you and him were in each other's company. Although I will stray from telling him you two were alone... you were alone, weren't you?" She turned her metal covered head, trying to figure out from the look on my face.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, knowing there was no point in lying. No damage could be done at this point, except for maybe towards Din.

"And what were you both doing?" She tilted her head, and I let mine drop. I would tell her the truth, because nothing bad could come from it. Or could it.

"We were just talking... about the future," I answered.

"Your marriage..." She suggested, and I nodded, knowing that it did come up in the conversation.

"Yes."

"I shudder to ask if consummating was apart of this conversation," She looked back at the fire, knowing how red my cheeks would turn and how embarrassed I would be.

"No, nothing like that. I can promise you," I shivered at the thought. Din was a good man, but I didn't necessarily need to be letting thoughts like that intrude my mind.

Everyone else around the fire seemed to be distracted by the glowing flames, and my mother was soon the same, so I suggested my absense.

"I'm going to go in for the night, get some rest. Big meeting tomorrow..." I said before reaching out and squeezing her hand tightly.

She nodded to me, and I took my leave, walking towards our living quarters on the opposite side of camp.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and brushed my shoulder against Merc, who was with Gander and Shyloh.

"Sorry, didn't see you coming," I told him, but he shook his head, optiing ti ask me a question instead.

"Don't worry about it, I was looking for you anyway... Did you think about the offer? We leave at sunrise on the north delivery tarmac," He informed me, but I didn't have an answer. I wasn't staying here, but I wasn't leaving either.

"You'll know if I show up," I gave him a smirk, partially just because I was glad to see someone's actual face tonight, and not just a metal facade.

"We can't wait up for you, just know that."

I nodded, letting them get by. Maybe I could go with them. Live this life freely without starting another one.

No.

My family will not be able to handle that. It's better off if I'm dead. At least they won't go on to believe that I betrayed them, turning my back on all loyalty they had ever taught me. They would nevwr wonder if I ever loved them or planned on keeping their wishes.

I could start fresh. They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. And I wouldn't have to worry anymore either. Rebirth.

I went straight to bed, clutching the woolen blanket beside me close to my chest.

For some reason I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Something that made the sting of salty tears swell in my eyes. I knew that what I was doing was best, but yet I started having a hard time justifying something so drastic. They would get on fine without me, wouldn't they? They would go on living by the creed. This is the way. They will find a way to go on without me, like they did before I was born. Din will be arranged with another girl as soon as I'm gone. Everything will be alright.

The wetness that spilled over my eyes and down my face lasted hours, even though my mind kept telling itself that it was at peace.

It was in the dead of night, when I gathered a few of my belongings into a knapsack, throwing it over my shoulder before leaving out the tattered window of my private space.

I ventured to the canyon, with the moons lighting my way. The planet was never truly dark, due to the brightness and the number of shinning moons, all the color silver.

I set my knapsack down on the edge beside me. By the end of this, I would be at the bottom, waiting to be found the next day. I just hoped it wouldn't be anyone I knew. Of course, the number of people who ever came out here was only two. Me, and Din Djarin.

I hoped he wouldn't find me. I hoped it would be someone from another tribe that was flying over, and happened to spot something at the base of the cliffside.

I pulled my flask to my mouth, taking a large drink. A bit spilled onto my chin, and I wiped it off, feeling the breeze on my face. It was much colder now than earlier tonight. I wasn't sure if I should pull the blanket from my belongings and wrap it around myself, or skip the process of making myself comfortable and just get this over with.

I leaned over, looking straight at the ground, hundreds of feet below me. My heart started racing, and I got scared. Why shouldn't I be? I have every right to be absolutely terrified. I closed my eyes, trying to scoot myself over the edge inch by inch, seeing if I would just drop.

I nearly panicked when my bottom hit a crack in the ground and I thought I was going over. My breath hitched in my throat and I instantly pulled myself back.

"This isn't as easy as I thought it would be," I murmered, beginning to feel the emotional side of everything rise to the surface again. It didn't help that with the absolute silence that circled around me, I couldn't have any single thing to distract me.

I stood to my feet, wrapping my arms around myself to ease the goosebumps rising on my skin from the frigid air.

I stood right on the edge, lifting a foot over and leaning forward, but before I could fall, I again caught myself, the adrenaline working overtime in my system and beginning to heat me up.

That wasn't going to work either. If I could, I would put a blaster to my temple and pull the trigger, but then it wouldn't look like an accident.

I paced around back and forth a few times, trying to calm myself down, to stop the whimpering and to make my tears cease. It wasn't working. I just needed to get this over and done with. A new life, with endless possibilities was waiting for me on the other side. Freedom was on the other side.

I wiped my face, even though it didn't stop me from crying, but it helped me to see clearer. I backed up, into the cavern, all the way inside until my back hit the wall of the ex artillery carvern. This was it. A new beginning. Rebirth. New life. Freedom.

I ran as fast as I could toward the edge, my eyes closed. I could feel the wind blowing against me even harder with my speed, and I could tell the edge was drawing near. Every step I took, I felt as though it was my last one.

I finally felt my foot hit the edge, but then I never fell. Instead, I was tackled to the ground. Whoever landed on top of me was heavy enough to hold me down, because half of me was hanging off the edge of the cliff.

I didn't dare even open my eyes. This was a sign. Someone stopped me.

I clinged onto whoever it was, and knew almost instantly who was laid over me when I heard him groan.

I cried even harder, my head buried in his armor clad chest, and my arms around his neck and his torso.

He was holding me tightly, one hand cradled my head into his neck, and the other firmly gripped my waist. He rolled us both over and I swear I felt him shaking.

"What were you thinking?" He stressed, his grip on me tightening as if he was scared to let go. I was scared too. I didn't want him to let go.

"You have to talk to me..."

I heaved a deep breath, deep enough to steady my voice so my whimpering didn't interfere with my words.

"I want out. I need to get out," I cracked in the middle of saying so few words, but they conveyed the message I was trying to get through.

"I can get you out, I promise.... But please don't ever try that again," His voice was full of worry, and as I suspected, he was trembling in fear.

"I'm sorry..." I cried some more, realizing that what I had done was now the biggest mistake I ever made, even if I was saved.

"It's okay. You're okay. I've got you," He spoke to me, my voice quieting down as my sobbing came to a slow halt.

I lifted my face from where I had burrowed it into his neck, looking up at him. I didn't know what his expression was, but something told me it was fearful, and worrysome.

"I have to get out of here," I repeated again. The last day or so it became my mantra, and would leave my lips often, even just to myself. Mostly just to myself.

"You're going to. You're going with Merc... when are they leaving?" He asked, his arms still around me like mine were for him.

"At sunrise. They're gonna jump a delivery ship on the north tarmac," I explained, my voice was now hoarse and thick, due to not only all the crying I had done, but also the cold night air that had entered my lungs.

"Sunrise isn't for a few hours..." he let me know, and I nodded, knowing we shouldn't probably leave yet, for the walk to the north tarmac wasn't very long from here.

"Din, if I leave, my family is going to get the fire for my decision. I can't let that happen," I told him, my voice had become more firm, and I needed to convey the importance of how much this meant to me.

"I give you my word, that as long as I live, nothing will happen to your family," He swore, and I could just feel his eyes staring into mine. So much so that for the first time since he put that helmet on, I knew where his eyes were.

"I trust you. And I know that you'll always keep your word," I nodded, a small smile finally forming on my face.

Since it got fairly quiet, and we were still entangled together, I scooted off of Din and opted instead to take the seat beside him.

"I should tell you some things before I go. I just don't want to leave anything unresolved," I admitted, and he stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I know this might sound horrible, but I hated the idea of getting too close to you. It was like if I had formed an emotional bond with you, I wouldn't be able to leave anymore. And the last thing on my mind had been to stay. I've wanted freedom for a while now, I was just always too scared to say anything. And when my father told me that you and him had come to an agreement for arranging a marriage.... it's like it all became more real to me. My freedom would be taken in just days. The creed of mandalore is sacred, and it's truly an amazing thing... but it isn't for everyone."

He sat and took everything in. All the words that just spewed from my mouth like I had been holding them in for ages went against everything I had ever learned. Everything that had ever been put into my mind was the opposite of what I wanted.

"You're young. You want more than what the creed can offer you. I think you'll be able to find what you want wherever you're going," He said, I knew there was more, for he didn't even mention anything that I had said about not wanting to be close to him, but when he stayed silent, I knew he was finished, and that I still had more to say.

"Din, I wanted to tell you that if I had to be married, I wouldn't have minded it being you," I admitted. I would leave no stone unturned before I was to just pick up and leave forever... maybe not forever, maybe someday I would return to my family, to Din.

"I can't say I don't feel the same," He seemed to become stiff next to me, but I soon found the reason when he suddenly reached for my hand with his gloved one.

I took it proudly, intertwining our finhers together.

"You know, I was only an eight year old kid when you took the creed. I have so many memories of you yourself, but whenever I recall them... I can't see your face. I've completely forgotten what you look like," I laughed a bit, though it was quite a sad thing actually. I could not remember him in a way that wasn't covered in metal. I remembered that he was a boy once, and that he would play with all the younger children in the clan set next to his. He played with me and the kids I lived next to. He was a lively, energetic boy. Always doing something... sometimes causing mischievous acts. He was so different now. But the change wasn't bad. Since he'd taken the creed he has been the most noble, fearsome, and trustworthy member of his clan. Completely honorable in every sense of the word.

"I don't look like I used to. It wouldn't do you any good to remember anyways," He chuckled under his helmet, and it brought a smile to hear the melodic sound.

"Well, if I'd stayed long enough to marry you I would find out for myself," I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling comfort by his presence. If I had made the absolute decision to leave this planet earlier, I could have let myself grow a relationship with him. Romantic or not, he was easy to talk to, and I trusted him. He was a friend to me, and I never imagined more, but now his presence was just something that put me at such ease.

"Do you think you'll ever come back?" He pondered, seeing as just the tiniest moonrays shown down into the canyon ahead.

"Someday. I'll comeback and repay you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life," I replied. My attempt to throw my own life away had been pushed away but I had to bring it up. I owed him my life.

"Anyone would have done the same if they had seen," He insisted, and I shook my head.

"How did you even know I was out here?" My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked for an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep, I took a walk through Ronion until I found myself here. I saw you across from the mesa on the south side... I saw you lift your foot over the edge, I knew what you were trying to do," He said, his grip on my hand got tighter almost instantly.

"Thank you. If you hadn't been there, I would be at the bottm of this canyon." I let so much seriousness onto my voice, and it didn't sound like me.

"Don't thank me yet... not until I get you on the tarmac,"

We sat in silence after that, just looking out over the horizon. When the slightest bit of light hit the edge of the planet, we stood to our feet, gathering my knapsack and begining the journey to the north delivery tarmac.

We were there in no time, and before I could even look for them, Merc and his crew were in sight. They were all sitting with their backs against some cargo imports, waiting for the transport to arrive.

"Well, well, well... look at what the shriek hawk dragged in," Shyloh said, gesturing to me and Din.

"Djarin, I didn't expect to see you here," Merc raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"I'm just here to make sure she gets onto the transport safely," He assured them. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and in the brighter horizon I was able to see a cargo ship coming into the landing area.

"Our rides here," I said, and they all jumped up. Since the ships were automatically run, and don't even require droids, it was often very easy to hop aboard and be carried to another destination. Of course, there were only a few who ever wanted to leave.

I myself hadn't ever left Mandalore, neither had I traveled much even on the planet. Only a few trips to visit the the markets with my father. I never even went into the city, for it was told that in the city lived Mandalorians who did not keep the creed. The tribes were convinced that they hadn't actually ever taken the oath, and just wore the armor for the sake of doing it.

The ship's doors opened, pulling me out of my thoughts, and a conveyer belt folded down to let the cargo units be carried out onto the tarmac for later pickup.

"Alright, it's time to head out," Gander said, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and boarding the transport.

The rest followed after him, but I still had one thing left to do.

Din looked at me, waiting for me to join the others, but I came close to him one last time.

"You promise my family will be taken care of?" I asked, to which he simply answered with a firm nod. However the look on my face gave him reason to believe that his answer wasn't good enough, so he spoke instead.

"I give you my word. If they are not taken care of, I will let you strike me dead where I stand."

That was good enough for me. He truly meant it. He was a man of his word.

I pulled his head toward mine, resting ny forehead against his in a traditional mandalorian kiss. I pulled back when I heard my name being called from the transport.

"Goodbye, Din Djarin," I told him.

He didn't respond, he just let me go, watching intently as I boarded the ship before the doors closed.

The cargo transports were always on schedule, so as soon as the doors closed, it began lifting into the air. I looked out through the transparent view finder on the side, watching him stand as we began moving out of sight.

"You gonna miss him?" Shyloh asked, his brows furrowing as if he were sorry for me.

"Yes, I suppose I will."

I lost sight of Din, and realized we were leaving the atmosphere most likely preparing for a jump to hyperspace.

"But I'll see him again."

Tags are open ig...

A/n: please don't get too caught up in the age gap y'all it's just for backstory purposes because this story is eventually going to follow canon events.... (also i know that this doesn't really portray Mandalore correctly, but let's pretend it does because i had this idea)

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x oc #din djarin x jedi!reader #cassian andor #luke skywalker #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #rough day #din djarin series #din djarin imagine #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst

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ji-yaaan · 4 years

Text

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I like your blog and the little comments here and there makes me laugh at times hehe ^^ May I request headcanons for Vil, Leona, Mal, and Floyd reactions and what they'll do to reconcile w/ the reader after a very hearted argument to which Reader may have said "I hate you" before storming out. Would they wait for a bit? A few days or hours? Or would they be upfront with their apology immediately? Reader also apologizes at the end, crying slightly if that's okay. If you notice me, thanks!

°•°•𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞?•°•°•

HC's with: Leona, Vil, Floyd, and Malleus.

Note: Ofc, I was late yet again. Pls forgive me dear sir... And ofc tumblr hates me so it won't cooperate! Drafts got deleted 3 times.... so if it somehow becomes inconsistent... I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE! STONE ME GENTLY! anyways, i hope you enjoy this, actually no, I beg that you enjoy this?! Idk lololololololololol.

[𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚍? 𝙸𝚍𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚕]

°•°•°•𝙇𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙖 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙧 •°•°•°

“I HATE YOU!” with bits of tears in your eyes, you slammed the door shut behind you leaving Leona dumbfounded all by himself.

You hate him?You hate him!?!? Is that like for real??? He’ll scratch the back of his head in shame of pushing things too far to the point you were in tears.

But what can he do? His pride caught the best of him and he acted rash in the heat of the moment. This prideful lion just doesn’t know when to shut up smh.ಥ‿ಥ

He’ll try to remember when did everything started to go wrong, but he'll just get more and more guilty the more he thinks about it.

“Tchhhh... I messed up big time...”

It's not his style to give up easily, but his mind was set in a frenzy the moment he thinks about you leaving him.

A day without you started to become dull and boring the moment he grew fond of you. So it somehow became a habit of his to constantly seek you unconsciously. Whether it's a whiff of your scent, your voice ringing in the hallways, even the sound of your footsteps is something he could easily recognize.

But now that the two of you fought, this lion will find any way possible to avoid you seeing him.

Yeah... it will probably take a while for him to apologize...(꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

But when the time does come, expect Leona to prepare a simple yet sincere apology.

“Oi herbivore... Sorry about the other day ok? I missed my pillow for a while now...I lose...”

Simple yet sincere :') The prideful arrogant lion somehow learned to apologize despite his ego way ahead of him. He can't stand the thought of loosing you ok? (｡•́︿•̀｡)

°•°•°•°•𝙑𝙞𝙡 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙣𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙩•°•°•°•°•

“VIL STOP IT! I hate this! I hate everything! I hate you!” you quickly ran away to the door as vil stood in his spot stupefied.

You hate him? You hate the Vil Schoenheit himself?Then so be it...

Vil is basically pissed and angry™. Moreover, you had the guts and audacity to tell him you hate him. His pride was shattered in front of him. And he's not happy about that (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

Nope. Nah. Never. He's not apologizing anytime sooner now. He'll be waiting for that spicy well deserved apology you have for him...

He'll try his best to avoid you and give you the sassy cold shoulder treatment™. It will probably last for a few days or maybe a week. He has his pride y’know?

Not until he hears a muffled sob in the hallways and realized it was your voice. You looked visibly upset and sad as you cried your heart out, all alone in the empty hallways.

Oh no... What did he do? Was his nagging that bad? Did he take it too far with the makeovers? Guilt ate his soul away as he tried to sort out his thoughts with the clear image of your crying face embedded in his mind.

“Okay... Maybe I did take it a little too far...”

Making up his mind, Vil will try to make everything set for tomorrow and apologize to you to fix this feud you both have. ( ╹▽╹ )

When classes are over and the two of you finally get to be alone, Vil will try to straighten this misunderstanding now! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

“Hey Y/n I just want to tell you... I'm sorry.” “Vil I'm so sorry for the other day!-”

The both of you stared at each other with shock... Did the both of you just say sorry at the same time?

“Pfffttttt-” The both of you laugh from how hilarious this moment was. It felt as if the fight you had didn't happened at all. (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

“Y/n I'm sorry... I took it too far with what I do without asking your opinion first...”

“Yeah... I'm sorry I lashed out at you too... That was petty...”

Vil will definitely make a million dollar once in a lifetime seen smile, so you better treasure this rare sight!!!(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

“No more fighting, okay? ”

•°•°•°•°•𝙁𝙡𝙤𝙮𝙙 𝙇𝙚𝙚𝙘𝙝•°•°•°•°•°

“Floyd I hate you!” you slammed your way out of the table, running away from Floyd.

Angering Floyd was not the brightest Idea in the book. His infamous “bad moods” was not something anyone would like to experience. But somehow, he was really pushy and annoying today and you were fed up with it.

“Ahhhh~ Koebi-chan hates me now? what do I do?”

Thankfully, Floyd wasn’t really angry, though he was sad and heart broken that his favorite person said they hated him.(╥╭╮╥)

Floyd is an impulsive boi, so he might secretly follow you to see your face or something lol.

Ofc, Knowing Floyd, he’d definitely skip classes and skip his job at the Mostro Lounge due to his mood swings. Ofc, a certain octoboi wasn’t really happy with this.

Azul will probs tell Jade to help out his brother or something, lol Azul be secretly worrying for the two of you loooool.

However, with the help of Jade, the mushroom eel himself, he can guide his brother to make up with you!!!

Thank god mushroom eel is here to save the day! ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`)

A fight with Floyd won’t really last long. Because Floyd being Floyd, he’ll naturally come to you like nothing ever happened! That’s why you have to be patient and understanding when it comes to Floyd ok?

With the biggest hug from behind you. There was a cute eel boi that has come to ambush you with love!

“Shrimppy! Don’t avoid meeee! I miss you so much so hang out with me at the Mostro Lounge againnn!”

Floyd is not really good with his words nor his apologies. Though, his blunt and honest demeanor is definitely one of his charming points!!!! (☆▽☆)

“Shrimpy! I have some takoyaki with me! let’s share them together ok?!”

Ugh, Floyd is too cute... It would be a capital sin to not forgive him and decline his offer! Tsk I’m watching you, you better accept that apology!

•°•°•°•𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙖•°•°•°

“MALLEUS I HATE YOU!”

Shock. Pure shock. You hate him? The last thing Malleus wants is to hurt your feelings. In his eyes, humans are delicate and vulnerable beings, so he tries his best to protect you and treat you with utter delicacy. Yet it seems as if he failed to do that...

Just before you slam the door behind you and escape this fight, a hand grabs your wrist in attempts to stop you. Nonetheless you still make your way out, leaving Malleus standing there alone.

Malleus was deeply hurt and sorry for making you sad and angry. His heart was shattered with the thought of you leaving him, someone who made their way this close to his heart, someone he cherishes deeply.

But this fight wont really last long because Malmal would definitely try and apologize as quickly as possible!(ᓀ˵▾˵ᓂ)

Malleus is the soft type of person and I feel like he’d give up easily if it was you lol.(｡•́︿•̀｡)

Even if his apology was heard but not accepted, he’d gladly say his sorry no matter how much time and patience it will take, just for you to forgive him.༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

He’ll try to give you and Hour or two to clear your mind, then he’ll apologize!

Standing in front of your room, he’ll knock lightly at the door in front of him... No answer... So you’re still mad huh?

Leaning his forehead at the door, He’ll try to talk to you in hope for you to come out of your room. But nahhh, no signs of you leaving your room soo (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

He’ll mutter apologies after another just in case you hear them :’D

“Y/n I’m sorry for hurting your feelings earlier... that was rash of me to say, so I truly apologize... I hope my feelings reach you.”

Hearing his voice, it would prolly sound as if he’s ready to cry any moment by now. You’d be a monster if you don’t forgive this fae cutie!!!(┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻

When you finally come out of the door to see him. I bet you he’s moment away from his tear dripping down. Ó╭╮Ò

“You’re not mad now right? Then is it fine to ask if we eat some ice cream later?”

You bet that Malleus would give you the biggest cheeriest grin in the entire world! oh the things you keep doing to him never surprises him. Pls dont leave this cinnamon roll or else-

That's it cuties! I need to sleep now- my classes are thriving, but I'm not!!!

God, school stuff are taking away my precious freedom and time for writing smh.

Oh god, I'm ranting again... What's new? AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Anyways, I need to woosh now and I hope you enjoyed this one!!!

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wendimydarling · 4 years

Text

The Thirst is Real

Summary: Little Freya might not be who she says she is...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Little Freya

Word Count: 1965

Warnings: uhhh.... slow burn; dirty thoughts; erotic thoughts; mentions of arousal, daddy kink, spanking, oral, masturbation, and thigh riding; size kink; slight manhandling; dom/sub kink if you squint.

A/N: So it’s been buzzing around The Cavillry that @littlefreya is either a mole in the community or Henry himself... @agniavateira (my beautiful goddess of a beta who also beta’d this fic for me) and I had a sensational conversation about what Freya and Henry’s weekly meet-ups would entail, and this beautiful birthday present was born! It’s also a little different that what I’ve done before, as I might have used some real life thirst examples in the fic.

Did I call you out? I guess you’ll just have to read. 😈

You’ll get another gift on your actual birthday my love, but for now, please enjoy!!

~~~~~

Freya adjusted her curls in the mirror, adding one last dash of eyeliner. She was preparing for her weekly meeting with Henry, but this time her stomach was twisting itself in a spiral like a shirt ready to be dyed.

When Henry first suggested the idea of her going on Tumblr to spy for him, she was hesitant at first. What if she couldn’t make friends? What if they didn’t trust her? But now, with a solid 6k followers under her belt, she knew she could say just about anything and people would flock to the thirst.

With a nervous look at her reflection, Freya gathered her things and headed out the door, sending a quick couple of texts to Henry.

I’m on my way. You should post on your IG stories… they’re wondering what you’re up to this morning.

Perfect, thanks. I’ll send you what I’m about to upload.

A couple of seconds later Freya received his text, quickly setting up a post and waiting for Henry to update his Instagram. She smiled to herself; Tumblr would be buzzing in a matter of seconds once she posted, and what better way to show Henry what went on in the torrential world of social media than to show him live? Freya’s phone chimed again, indicating Henry had done as she’d suggested.

She couldn’t help but grin like a demon as she hit the small blue button.

Pocketing her phone, Freya enjoyed the scenery on the short walk to Henry’s place. He was in London briefly as was she, so they were meeting at his home instead of Skyping like usual. Why she was so nervous, she didn’t know… Henry had been a friend for quite a few years now, even becoming one of her closest companions. He confided in her and she in him, and it was always a joy to see him. Every day she looked forward to their flirty banter. But that was easier when it was over the phone; doing so in person was an entirely different matter.

Freya reached Henry’s small home and knocked on the door. She’d only been there a couple of times, but the tiny house never ceased to give her a wonderful sense of charm and sensibility. A loud bark and clack of nails on the floor signaled that Kal was ready and waiting to greet her, which meant Henry wouldn’t be far behind. Freya fidgeted with her fingers and chewed on her lip in taut anticipation.

The door swung wide and there was Henry, sporting a puppy dog grin on his face and his large frame filling the entire entryway. His muscular chest was practically bursting from the snug grey shirt he wore, and his dark blue jeans couldn’t have looked more sinful. He had Kal by the collar as if the dog weighed nothing, and Freya couldn’t help but feel incredibly small. Henry reached out his hand, softly tugged her bottom lip from her teeth, then swooped her up for a one-armed squeeze.

“It’s so good to see you,” he murmured against her ear, sending chills down Freya’s spine. Her feet dangled helplessly as she wrapped her own arms around his neck, inhaling the sharp scent that had long since faded from the hoodie he’d let her “steal”. The fact that he was holding her petite stature in one arm and still controlling Kal with the other wasn’t lost to Freya, and the images it provoked in her mind of what exactly he could do to her with that kind of strength made her tingle.

Oh, the positions he could put her in...

All too soon Henry set Freya down, shaking her from her sudden daydream.

“Come on in,” he said, maneuvering Kal and ordering him to sit. Freya crossed the threshold, imagining what it would be like if she was in a long, white gown…

“I’m making a smoothie, would you like one?” Henry broke into her thoughts again and Freya flushed, hurriedly setting her bag on the table and pulling out her laptop.

“Just some water please,” she replied, swallowing thickly as she realized how dry her throat was. She logged into Tumblr as Henry bustled about in the kitchen and quickly reblogged a few thirsty comments, scrolling through to find some good ones while she waited for Henry.

“Go ahead and start, tell me what ‘The Cavillry’ has been up to this week,” he stated, not quite a command but it thrilled Freya nonetheless. Stupid filthy gutter brain. She pulled out her notes and dove straight in.

“Well, a few of them like Lisa and Berry have a theory that there’s a mole in the community,” she laughed. “Some of them even like to surmise that I’m you!”

“Do they really?” Henry’s deep chuckle resonated throughout the living space and Freya closed her eyes momentarily, picturing that chuckle after a rather exhilarating round of cardio between soft, silken sheets…

“What else are they saying?” Henry’s voice was in Freya’s ear and she jumped, startled yet again from her indecorous thoughts. Henry set her water down next to the laptop and placed his hands on the table, caging her in his warmth as he leaned over her shoulder to read. Freya felt the familiar flush of arousal start to creep its way up her thighs but she did her best to ignore it, continuing on with her notes.

“Marta made some really funny memes,” she stammered, “And Demi excels at clipping audios, where it sounds like…”

“How does it sound?” Henry’s hot breath ghosted over her ear, and his exhale came out nearly a growl. Freya felt lucky she was sitting down, positive her knees would have given out on her if she hadn’t been.

“Like you just had a--an orgasm,” she faltered, grabbing her glass of water for a big gulp. Henry hummed, and Freya nearly choked on the clear liquid.

“What else do they say? I want you to read it… out loud.”

Freya was shocked for a moment. What was he playing at? Wait a minute... this is a game; Henry is playing a game. Emboldened by her sudden epiphany, Freya switched personalities from timid bird to devilish vixen, determined to win whatever it was that Henry had set in motion. She arched her back and leaned her head against Henry’s shoulder, pointing at the screen.

“Well look, see what your post this morning has done? We descend into a thirsting frenzy every time.”

She scrolled through a couple of posts, landing upon one that would give her what she needed.

“For example, Miya writes:

‘I guess good to know he’s on a morning run instead of fapping off…

But good sir, you will have to shower after that no? And unless he’s a never nude, he’s going to be naked very very soon ladies. KEEP THAT IN MIND! IN A SHORT FEW MINUTES, HENRY WILL BE NAKED AND RUBBING HIMSELF IN THE SHOWER.’ ”

Freya emphasized the last sentence and was rewarded with a small hitching of Henry’s breath. He recovered quickly.

“However did they know,” he quipped in a low rumble, reaching over Freya’s hand to do some scrolling of his own. Her hand was trapped in his but her thoughts were elsewhere, immediately flooded with the image of Henry getting off in the shower, water cascading over his hairy torso down the line of his abs and through the rabbit trail on his groin to the surely insurmountable…

“This one next,” he stated, drawing her back to the present. His thumb brushed softly over her skin before landing just out of reach of her touch. Freya focused her attention on the screen and a small groan escaped her lips. He’d chosen one of Wendi’s Smutbombs.

“...My eyes were instantly drawn back to his fierce gaze.

“You wanted to use that mouth,” he snarled, staring at me with lewd concentration.

“So use it.”

Freya’s palms grew clammy at the thought of using her mouth around Henry, in exactly the way the raucous words depicted. The way he would stretch her tiny lips until they burned, the way he’d fuck her throat without a care, the way he’d…

Henry grabbed Freya’s hand and abruptly slapped his phone on her palm, severing the thought.

“Read this one,” Henry commanded her again, his voice now clear and authoritative. This time his tone left no room for argument; he was doing it on purpose. His arms still pinned her to the table with no way to escape, and she could feel the dominance that was dripping off of him tingling down her spine.

Freya looked at the small screen, recognition of the words dawning on her face. She faltered, and cleared her throat.

“Yes, my bottom is always bare, Sherlock. Bare and ready for you to spank me and take me any which way you want.”

“Who wrote that?” he questioned sternly. Freya took a deep breath.

“I did.”

“Read the next one.”

Freya whimpered, clenching her thighs together tightly.

“Fuck this shit I want to die on this man’s thighs.”

“Who wrote that?”

“I did.”

“Keep going.”

Freya’s chest was heaving. Her head was swimming with lust and need. Her arousal had long since wet her panties to the point of extreme discomfort. She was certain Henry could smell it too, as she certainly could and his head was still right next to hers. She watched his fists tighten on the table, the veins in his arms becoming more prominent with every passing second. Freya imagined what his hands would look like with one wrapped around her throat and the other buried knuckle deep inside her…

“I said keep going; you’ve got one more.”

It wasn’t just Henry’s voice this time that dragged Freya back to reality; he wrapped his hand firmly around her nape and pointed her toward his phone.

She blinked rapidly and scrolled to the last quote.

“...They share a mutual smile and she forces herself to look away.

They have always liked each other, he has always been kind to her.

Sometimes he would touch her as they sat with friends, a feverish stroke, innocent or by mistake, but that would be enough to make her heart flutter like a huge butterfly in the cage of her chest.

To see him physically hurts sometimes. Especially on a night like this when she is supposed to be happy, yet her heart feels sorrowful.”

The moment her lips finished moving Freya was pulled off the bench and thrust against the wall. Henry pressed his thigh between her legs, his own arousal evident as it strained against the ridged fabric of his jeans. His face was gentle and sincere but his eyes were as dark with lust as she was certain hers were, and the tremor of his voice left no room to imagine anything but desire.

“Who wrote that?” he whispered softly.

“I did,” Freya whispered back.

“Did you mean it?” Henry searched her face, looking for any scrap of evidence that would present him with permission. Freya brought a hand up to his curls, brushing the one out of his eyes that always seemed to disobey.

“Every word.”

Henry slammed his mouth against Freya’s, probing her deep and hard. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, tugging on his curls and wrapping her legs around his waist as he hoisted her in the air. Never in her life had she ever thought this moment would happen, that he would want her this way. But now, here in his arms with his lips on hers and on their way to his bedroom, she couldn’t picture anything else.

The man had ruined her for anyone else over a decade ago, and she’d been thirsty for far, far too long.

~~~~~

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @achaoticaugust @demivampirew @raspberrydreamclouds I hope you don’t mind that I used your thirst! I though it might be fun, but if you don’t like it just let me know, I’ll remove it. 😊

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fic #author story #birthday present #i love you boo

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kjack89 · 3 years

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An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 9/14)

Continuation of the E/R Bridgerton AU, regency-era fake-marriage fic. I feel confident enough in the remainder of my outline to finally put the end chapter number up top, though of course, it’s subject to change because I’m, you know, me. (Chapter 1 tumblr | AO3, chapter 2 tumblr | AO3, chapter 3 tumblr | AO3, chapter 4 tumblr | AO3, chapter 5 tumblr | AO3, chapter 6 tumblr | AO3, chapter 7 tumblr | AO3, chapter 8 tumblr | AO3)

Rarely has this Author been so inundated with the same piece of news, and so while most readers likely already know this, it must still be reported for those apparently unaware or living under a rock: the Marquess of Enjolras has made his triumphant return to the city.

But those hoping to catch a glimpse of the new Marchioness will find themselves disappointed: the Marchioness has returned to her family home, having apparently fallen ill while on her honeymoon. Still, there is plenty of time left in the season for her to make an appearance, so all hope is not lost.

And while she has not yet taken her place in the Enjolras manor, this Author has learned that her brother has been invited to stay with the Marquess, a move that gives no credence to the rumors that the two have fallen out ahead of the Marquess’s marriage to Mr. Grantaire’s sister. Indeed, if anything, the pair’s unlikely friendship seems only stronger now, which only proves that the marriage mart truly does make strange bedfellows.

Far more important than their living situation, of course, is the annual de Courfeyrac ball this very evening. With the Marquess back in town, he is certain to attend, and this Author is equally certain that even without his new bride to accompany him, all eyes will surely be on the one bachelor who got away…LADY WHISTELDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 14 MAY 1831

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m not fidgeting,” Enjolras grumbled, though he reluctantly stopped playing with the cuff of his shirtsleeves.

Grantaire rolled his eyes as the receiving line at the de Courfeyrac Ball inched forward. “You are so,” he said in an undertone. “And leave your damned cravat alone, it took me near a quarter hour to get it to lay right.”

Enjolras had barely even starting to reach up to adjust his cravat, and his hand fell back to his side as he gave Grantaire a look. “Yes, but only because you were the one who untied it in the first place.”

As Grantaire had indeed been the one who had untied it, in the carriage ride over to the de Courfeyrac manor, mostly to give himself better access to Enjolras’s neck, his self-satisfied grin was somewhat to be expected. “Yes, well, can you really blame me?” he murmured, eyeing Enjolras appreciatively. “I know you hate formal dress, but by God, man, you were made to wear an evening coat.”

Enjolras could not help but preen at that, just a little, even as he warned Grantaire teasingly, “Keep looking at me like that and our cover will be blown sooner than you think.”

Grantaire just laughed lightly. “Please,” he said dismissively. “I’ve been looking at you like this for ten years now with none the wiser.” He paused and considered it. “Or at least, with none willing to comment on it, and I doubt very much that would change now.”

But Enjolras was still focused on the first part of what Grantaire had said. “You’ve really been looking at me like this for a decade?”

Grantaire smirked. “Again, can you blame me?”

Enjolras hesitated, wondering for not the first time what it had been like for Grantaire, to love him as he had for as long as he had, and with Enjolras among those none the wiser. “Does it bother you that I never noticed?”

“I think it would have bothered me more if you had,” Grantaire said, sounding a little surprised by the question. “I wasn’t ready for you to know before.”

“And now?”

Grantaire shrugged, a little helplessly. “Well, that cat’s quite out of the bag regardless, isn’t it?” he asked, before his voice softened, just slightly. “Besides, no matter how prepared I was, it was worth it in the end.”

Enjolras smiled as well. “Keep talking like that and I might be tempted to do something untowards,” he murmured, bending his head toward Grantaire.

“Scandalous,” Grantaire said, with a wicked smirk. “Besides, keep talking like that and I might just let you.”

Enjolras let out a laugh, but his amusement did not last long. As the line barely moved, he could not help but bounce on the balls of his feet, trying to glance over the top of the receiving line. “I wish Courf would just let us go in with having to go through the whole thing,” he muttered.

“Yes, I too wish my friends would allow me to break all social protocol just because I dread having to sit through it,” Grantaire said wryly. “But alas, seeing as how we live in the real world…”

He trailed off as the line started moving again, and finally, with only a few more minutes’ delay, Enjolras and Grantaire were at the front of the receiving line. “Enjolras!” Courfeyrac called, sounding elated, and he grasped Enjolras by both shoulders before leaning in and kissing both his cheeks. “And Grantaire!” To Enjolras’s surprise, he embraced Grantaire in much the same way – and judging by Grantaire’s wide eyes, he was equally surprised.

“Christ, Courfeyrac, have you been borrowing Jehan’s opium?” Grantaire muttered when Courfeyrac finally released him.

Courfeyrac ignored him, just beaming at both of them. “From brothers in arms to brothers in law!” he trilled, clapping his hands together. “What an unexpected twist to this tale. Enjolras, you must find me later and fill me in on the details.”

Enjolras tried to smile, though he was pretty sure it looked more like a wince. “I am certain you would track me down if I didn’t.”

Courfeyrac laughed loudly and waved them through. For as long as he had waited to finally get inside, Enjolras found himself hesitating at the ballroom entrance, dreading what welcome awaited him within in the wake of his ‘scandal’ and marriage.

As if sensing exactly what he was feeling, Grantaire found his hand and covertly squeezed it, his own hand warm and strong in Enjolras’s. “Be easy,” he whispered in Enjolras’s ear, and for the first time all evening, Enjolras relaxed, just slightly.

Of course, he tensed once again when they finally entered the ballroom, and the first person Enjolras saw across the way was Combeferre. He reached out blindly for Grantaire’s arm, gripping his elbow harder than he likely needed to.

This was always going to be the hardest part of their charade, as Enjolras had confided in Grantaire the previous night as they lay together in his bed, neither one tired enough yet to fall asleep. “I don’t know what to tell Combeferre and Courfeyrac,” he had confessed, turning so that he was facing Grantaire.

“What were you planning on telling them before?” Grantaire had asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Before what?” Enjolras had asked.

Grantaire had given him a look. “Before, when it was just a straightforward fictional marriage,” he said dryly.

“Oh.” Enjolras flushed slightly. “Frankly, I hadn’t given it much thought. I was certainly going to allude to the arrangement solving certain matters with my mother, and let them draw their own conclusions.”

“And that same answer will no longer suffice?”

Enjolras had drawn Grantaire close to kiss him lightly. “Frankly, I suspect my interactions with you will undermine the credibility of that explanation. Combeferre and Courfeyrac are not stupid, and decidedly more observant than myself.”

Grantaire’s expression softened. “Then we need not interact in front of them,” he had said quietly. “I am overdue in seeing Joly and Bossuet, and it is not as if any of our friends expects me to be at your side all evening. Or at all, frankly.”

While Enjolras had agreed at the time, now, faced with the reality of the situation, he wanted nothing more than Grantaire to stay at his side. But Grantaire was already pulling away, even as the look he gave Enjolras was gentle, and understanding. “They’re your friends,” he reminded Enjolras in an undertone.

“They’re your friends as well,” Enjolras muttered. “And they will likely forgive neither of us for the deception.”

“Forgive? Perhaps not, or at least not immediately. But they will understand.”

“Will they?” Enjolras asked, more rhetorical than anything, and mostly because Grantaire had already abandoned him, making a beeline to where Joly and Bossuet were talking quietly together in the corner.

With no excuse left, Enjolras crossed to where Combeferre waited, feeling more nervous than he frankly expected to be. Combeferre’s expression was completely neutral as he approached, which did not help Enjolras’s nerves. “Hello,” Combeferre said when Enjolras finally reached him. “Long time no see. Anything new with you?”

Enjolras laughed lightly. Combeferre’s dry humor had never before failed to put him at ease, and this was no exception. “Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that,” he said airily before adding, in a more serious tone, “I certainly doubt either you or I were expecting the events of the past few weeks.”

“After the scene your mother made at the Musain?” Combeferre returned with an arched eyebrow. “I expected you married within the fortnight. Grantaire’s sister was a twist I did not see coming.”

Enjolras shrugged, avoiding meeting Combeferre’s eyes. “Yes, well. A twist, but perhaps not as unpleasant a one as some would expect.”

Combeferre nodded slowly, looking at him closely. “Whatever anyone may say, you seem happy,” he remarked.

“Well, I am rid of my mother,” Enjolras said. “Or will be, once I hand over the dowry.”

Combeferre’s expression didn’t change as he took a sip of his drink. “I didn’t say you seemed relieved. I said you seem happy.”

As usual, Combeferre saw right through him, and Enjolras took a moment to compose his answer, opting for as much of the truth as he could give. “I suppose I am happy,” he said. “It’s...freeing, in a way, to know that part of my future is settled.”

“To be free,” Combeferre murmured. “What greater thing is there.”

Enjolras smiled. “Precisely.”

Combeferre nodded slowly. “Well, if you are happy, then I am happy,” he assured Enjolras, before adding, in a slightly disapproving tone, “Of course, Grantaire’s going to be a bit insufferable for awhile, I suppose.”

Enjolras felt his heart stop. Had Combeferre figured them out so quickly? “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “Surely you realize – you’ve rather elevated his status.”

“In what way?”

“By marrying his sister, he is now brother-in-law to a marquess,” Combeferre said slowly, and Enjolras felt immediate relief that he had not figured him out. “Which may very well make him the most eligible bachelor here. A fact I’m certain he’s realized, even if you haven’t.”

He nodded towards the corner that Grantaire had headed to, but where previously he’d been in conversation with Joly and Bossuet, now they seemed surrounded by numerous young women. Enjolras’s initial relief was replaced by a pit in his stomach as he watched one such lady laugh, touching Grantaire’s arm in a way that made Enjolras’s vision go red.

Combeferre, as he always seemed to be, was correct. Before, Grantaire had been notorious as a rake whose sole redeeming quality was association with many powerful peers and gentry. But now, while he may still offer no title, he offered societal status that far too many mothers would crave for their daughters.

And even though Grantaire seemed quite convinced of his affection for Enjolras, there was little doubt that this could change things. After all, while Enjolras would get no enjoyment from marriage to any woman in the entire city, Grantaire very well might.

He was so busy watching Grantaire flirt (or at least, not automatically brush the young women off, which was tantamount to the same thing in Enjolras’s mind) that he barely noticed when Combeferre was pulled into a different conversation entirely, leaving him standing alone. It ended up for the best, though, as he then had no need to make an excuse for crossing the ballroom, making a beeline for Grantaire.

But he was intercepted on his way by Éponine Thenárdier, who blocked his path entirely. “Lord Enjolras,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

Enjolras jerked a nod. “Miss Thenárdier,” he muttered, trying in vain to sidestep her, but she moved swiftly to again block his path.

“You must allow me to congratulate you on your nuptials,” she told him, her tone saccharine. “I wish you nothing but happiness, no matter how surprising the event was.”

Internally, Enjolras rolled his eyes, knowing damn well that she was trying to goad him into sharing details that would almost invariably make their way into Lady Whistledown the moment he spoke them. Externally, he forced a smile that almost certainly looked more like a grimace. “I’m not certain there’s much of a causal link between surprise and happiness, but thank you nonetheless.”

Éponine laughed lightly. “But where is your lovely bride this evening?”

She almost certainly already knew the answer, having undoubtedly read about it like everyone else had in Lady Whistledown, but Enjolras nonetheless gritted his teeth and told her, “I’m afraid she is ill, and staying at her family home in the country until she recovers.”

“Oh, how dreadful,” she said, though Enjolras noted she didn’t sound particularly upset by the news. “And we were all so eager to meet her.”

“I’m sure you were,” Enjolras muttered, before Grantaire appeared without warning at his side.

“Isn’t it a lovely ball?” he asked, so brightly that Enjolras wondered for a moment if he had been hit in the head – or been hitting the whiskey already. “It is as if someone has unhooked the stars and put them on the table in the guise of candles, don’t you think?”

Éponine’s smile slipped, for just a moment. “Indeed,” she murmured politely, but the look she gave Grantaire was icy as she swept away, clearly put out at having her attempted interrogation so rudely interrupted.

Grantaire smirked as he watched her leave, resting his hand on Enjolras’s back, a little too low to be entirely proper. “The trick,” he murmured in Enjolras’s ear, “is to be so banal that absolutely no one wishes to continue the conversation.”

Despite himself and the jealousy he could still feel, Enjolras was unable to stop his smile. “Is that your secret?” he asked in an undertone.

“My secret is usually to get drunk as quickly as possible and then disappear without saying goodbye,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “But as I am in polite company—” He nodded his head graciously at Enjolras, who rolled his eyes affectionately. “—we must make do together.”

And indeed they did. Enjolras was shocked to find that Grantaire’s trick of not providing any details about his fictional wife and instead speaking of the decor, or the weather, or something equally boring was enough to forestall almost all conversation that followed. It helped, he realized, as he and Grantaire made the rounds together, that far fewer young women and their mothers attempted to monopolize his time or beg him for a dance, almost certainly because they had set their sights on more available targets, and the ones that did want to make conversation were after gossip, like Éponine, and easily thwarted.

But neither was what really made the evening bearable; instead, it was Grantaire who proved the difference in the evening.. Grantaire, always quick with a quip or scathing observation under his breath, who stayed by his side despite the invitations to dance that he received. Grantaire, who knew without Enjolras needing to say a word when they needed to stop for refreshments or be pulled away from the conversation. Grantaire, who was as easy a companion as Enjolras had ever had.

And Grantaire who was, according to Combeferre at least, now the most eligible bachelor in the place.

As much as Grantaire was turning this most dreaded part of his social obligations into, perhaps not the most anticipated, but at least something that could be enjoyed rather than merely endured, Enjolras could not shake what Combeferre had said, or the pit that formed in his stomach when he thought about it.

“Is everything alright?” Grantaire asked an hour or so later, his brow furrowed as he looked at Enjolras.

“Fine,” Enjolras said quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Just a bit warm in here, do you not think?”

Grantaire studied him closely for a moment. “Perhaps we should step out onto the balcony,” he suggested. “Get some air.”

“That sounds like a good—”

“There you are!” Courfeyrac exclaimed with his usual exuberance as he joined them, oblivious to how close Enjolras had been to escaping. “As promised, since you did not come find me later as requested, I have instead hunted you down. And Grantaire is still at your side, how lovely.”

“Not for long,” Grantaire said, ignoring the pleading look Enjolras shot him. “I’m due for a refill. Anything for either of you?”

He did not wait for a reply, leaving Enjolras alone with Courfeyrac, whose smile had sharpened. “Come now, you can afford to look a little less panicked,” he said innocently, looping his arm through Enjolras’s. “After all, people will think you don’t wish to speak to one of your oldest friends.”

“Speak with, or be interrogated by?” Enjolras muttered.

Courfeyrac’s grin widened. “Potato, po-tah-to.” He patted Enjolras’s arm reassuringly. “But truly, more the former than the latter. Too many prying ears, and I’d rather learn the details of your scandal where they can’t be transmitted to the inimitable Lady Whistledown.”

Enjolras snorted. “Yes, that would be a shame,” he said dryly.

But something in his tone made Courfeyrac pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Enjolras. “I was hardly anticipating you being the model of wedded bliss, but you seem far too downtrodden for someone who must no longer put up with the marriage mart. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Enjolras said, by instinct alone, and when Courfeyrac just looked at him, he sighed and relented. “Just something Combeferre said.”

He was expecting Courfeyrac to demand details, details that Enjolras would not be able to share without revealing the truth, but to his surprise, Courfeyrac just rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, ignore him,” he said. “He’s just jealous.”

Enjolras frowned. “Jealous?” he repeated. “Of what?”.

Courfeyrac looked at him as if the answer was obvious. “He thinks he’s been replaced, you fool,” he said impatiently, and when Enjolras still looked confused, added, “As your best friend. By Grantaire.”

The statement was so absurd that Enjolras barked a laugh before realizing Courfeyrac was entirely serious. “Really?” he asked derisively. “Forgive me, I did not realize we were still in the nursery.”

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Perhaps not, but you cannot deny that he used to be your partner in crime when it came to your schemes.” He gave Enjolras an appraising look. “And whatever else you may say, you and I, I think, can acknowledge that this is a scheme of some variety, though of which, I could not say.”

Enjolras felt stricken at the realization of how Combeferre had interpreted his involvement with Grantaire, which, of course, couldn’t be further from the truth. “I never thought—”

Courfeyrac patted his arm. “Of course you didn’t.”

Enjolras sighed and tugged his arm out of Courfeyrac’s grip. “Still, I should go apologize.”

“You should do no such thing,” Courfeyrac said firmly, turning to face him head on. “You’ve done nothing wrong, but even if you had, actions speak louder than words. Spend some time planning with him before the next Les Amis gathering, and all will be forgiven.”

“But not forgotten.”

Courfeyrac just looked amused. “My dear fellow, none of us, I think, will be able to forget the moment when you and Grantaire finally stopped trying to kill each other using just your words.” His expression softened. “And believe me, no matter what Combeferre may say, we’re all quite grateful that you have.” His eyebrows raised. “Speaking of Grantaire, I believe he wants a word.”

He nodded over Enjolras’s shoulder, and Enjolras turned to find Grantaire, holding two glasses of champagne and gesturing with his head toward the door that led out to the balcony. Enjolras nodded his understanding, and turned back to Courfeyrac, who had already disappeared into the crowd.

Enjolras crossed to the balcony door as quickly as possible to avoid being waylaid once more, and this time, he was successful. Never had he been so relieved to find himself alone and out of doors, even if the night was unseasonably cold. Grantaire laughed lightly from where he was leaning against the balcony railing. “You look like you need this more than I do,” he said, offering Enjolras one of the glasses of champagne.

Enjolras took it gratefully and drained it in one long gulp. “I did need that,” he told Grantaire, setting the empty glass down on the flat top of the wide marble balustrade. “I suppose I did not fully appreciate how complicated this all was going to be on my return.”

Grantaire eyed him carefully, his expression unreadable. “Curious,” he said lightly. “You normally think through every detail before you take any action.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Desperation apparently made me less thorough,” he said. “And, of course, there were unanticipated complications along the way that I did not account for.”

Grantaire let out a light, humorless laugh. “Am I to assume that I am one of those complications?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, not seeing any point in sugarcoating the truth. “Though a mostly welcome complication.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Who would have thought the word ‘mostly’ could feel like a dagger being driven into me,” he murmured, though he also hastened to add, “I jest, I jest.”

Enjolras traced a finger along the line of the balustrade. “I did not intend to hurt you by saying it,” he said heavily. “Only I think we need to be honest with one another.”

Grantaire searched his expression for a long moment. “I have been entirely honest with you,” he said carefully. “So if there is anyone with something to hide…”

He trailed off, looking at Enjolras expectantly. “Not to hide,” Enjolras hedged. “But one of the complications I did not anticipate has revealed itself this evening, and that is related to your social standing.”

Grantaire blinked. “My— what?”

“Combeferre pointed out that by me marrying your sister, your status has risen to one of the most eligible bachelors,” Enjolras explained. “And that knowledge complicates things.”

“How so?” Grantaire asked, his brow furrowed.

Enjolras shrugged, avoiding Grantaire’s eyes. “You have...options now, I suppose,” he muttered. “Real options, for a real marriage.” He hesitated before adding, “Options that I would not discourage you from exploring.”

Grantaire nodded slowly, turning to stare out at the sprawling grounds that surrounded the manner. After a long moment, he asked softly, “Am I being thrown over, then?”

“What?” Enjolras asked, confused.

“Is this your rather inelegant attempt to be rid of me?” Grantaire asked, his voice brittle. “Trying to soften the blow by intimating that I now have ‘options’?”

Enjolras stared blankly at him. “Of course not,” he spluttered. “That’s not at all what—”

“Then tell me,” Grantaire interrupted, “when I told you, multiple times now, that I love you, did you think I was speaking falsely?”

Enjolras scowled. “Not at all, but you did not know all the facts then!”

“And what facts could possibly matter in this regard?”

“The fact that you have a real chance to make a marriage match that would improve your standing and your family’s standing!” Enjolras snapped, though he wasn’t quite sure why he was angry, and especially at Grantaire. “You could secure a future for your lineage that any man would be envious of. It’s why most men put themselves through these torturous affairs.”

Grantaire just shook his head. “Most men, but not you, and certainly not me,” he said quietly.

Something in his tone caused Enjolras to deflate, but it also allowed him to realize why he was so angry, or more accurately, at whom he was so angry: himself. He had dragged Grantaire down this path, and this was perhaps the last real opportunity that either had to part ways before irreparable damage was done. “Think of what you are saying,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I cannot offer you anything, not my name, not my title, not even the promise of the future if we are discovered. You deserve so much more than that.”

Grantaire shook his head again, but slower this time, and with a crooked sort of smile. “You can offer me the only thing I have ever wanted: you,” he said simply. “There is no one on Earth who can offer me more than that.” Enjolras shook his head, ready to interrupt, but Grantaire did not let him. “Do not seek to dismiss my words, when I mean every one of them. There is no happiness that I would find now with any other, not now that I know what true happiness is. Not now when I know what true love is.”

The breath caught in Enjolras’s throat, and for a moment, he could not speak. If he had been waiting for the perfect moment to finally tell Grantaire that he loved him, he knew he would never find one better than this. The music from the waltz taking place inside the ballroom swelled, and Enjolras leaned in toward Grantaire, reaching out to lightly cover Grantaire’s hand resting on the railing with his own. “Grantaire,” he started, his voice soft, “I—”

But before he could get the two most important words out, the doors to the balcony banged open, and Enjolras and Grantaire instinctively moved apart as two giggling couples spilled out of the ballroom.

The moment was thoroughly ruined, which perhaps explained the face Grantaire made as he turned back to Enjolras. “Shall we consider this our sign to adjourn for the evening?”

“Yes please,” Enjolras said with a sigh of relief.

His relief was short-lived, however, as a current of tension resonated between them as they made their way back through the ballroom and then waited out front until his carriage pulled around. As soon as they were inside and en route back to his place, Enjolras cleared his throat. “Shall we continue our conversation?”

Grantaire sighed. “I did not realize there was more to say.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “There is always more to say.”

“That should really be your family motto,” Grantaire muttered. “Plus semper est dicere.”

“I don’t think that’s an accurate translation,” Enjolras said mildly. “Though at least it’d probably be more appropriate than my actual family motto, Nox finiet.”

“Perhaps I’ll have Marius figure out the correct translation, then, and we can have it engraved on our stationary.”

Ordinarily, Enjolras probably would have laughed, but now, Grantaire’s attempt at glib just fell flat. “Grantaire—”

Grantaire ignored him. “After all, my family is too new amongst the gentry to have a motto of our own. Of course, if I ever got to pick a family motto, I’d probably choose Fidelitas usque ad mortem.”

His words were pointed, and Enjolras swallowed, hard. “Faithful until death.”

Grantaire met his gaze steadily. “And I aim to be.”

“I do not doubt that you will be,” Enjolras said quietly. “I only wish that you would consider what your loyalty will cost you.”

Grantaire reached out and took his hand. “Even if it costs me everything in this life and the next, it will be more than worth it.” He raised Enjolras’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “If you will have me, at least.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand, but before he could respond, the carriage jolted to a stop, and he glanced outside. “We’re home already?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

Grantaire just chuckled lightly. “One day we’ll figure out our timing,” he said before stepping out of the carriage and turning to help Enjolras down.

But Enjolras was not so willing to surrender the moment this time. As soon as his driver had left, he grabbed Grantaire’s hand, pulling him away from the lamplight at the door. “Before we go in, there’s something that I wished to say.”

“Something so secret you dare not speak it in earshot of your servants?” Grantaire asked, amused.

“Be serious,” Enjolras said with a frown.

Grantaire just smiled at him, his eyes sparkling even in the dim light. “I am wild.”

“Grantaire…”

“Fine, fine,” Grantaire said, chuckling. “What is it you wished to say?”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “Only that our time together has meant more to me than I ever thought it could. Not just our time up north, when it was just the two of us. But our time tonight as well. “

“Even when we were quarreling?” Grantaire asked.

“Especially when we were quarreling,” Enjolras said firmly. “Because our quarrel came from us wanting the best for each other.” He took both of Grantaire’s hands in his. “I do not know what the future holds, but I know that I want you in it, options be damned. Besides, with you at my side, I’m beginning to think anything is possible.”

Grantaire was quiet for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed Enjolras gently. “I may not share your belief in possibility, but I too have valued our time together,” he said softly. “It is everything I always dreamt it would be, and so much more.”

Enjolras laughed breathily. “You dismiss my belief in possibility, only to speak of dreams?”

Grantaire half-smiled. “Possibility speaks to hope,” he said with a shrug. “I never hoped my dreams would come true, though I am gladder than words can say that they have. That they are.” He squeezed Enjolras’s hands. “And who knows, you may make a believer out of me yet.”

This was Enjolras’s moment, and he took a deep breath, ready to finally say those three words he knew Grantaire wanted to hear more than anything else. “Grantaire, I—”

“Lord Enjolras?”

Enjolras could not stop the groan that escaped from his lips as he let go of Grantaire’s hands at the sound of his butler’s voice. “What is it, Porter?” he asked tiredly, taking a step towards the now-open door.

Porter cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon for the interruption,” he said, “but we’ve received word from the Marchioness.” Enjolras and Grantaire exchanged startled glances, and Porter corrected himself. “Beg pardon, the Dowager Marchioness. Your mother.”

Enjolras felt the blood drain from his face. “Christ,” he muttered. “What does she want?”

“She is planning on visiting tomorrow morning,” Porter said, glancing at Grantaire before looking back at Enjolras. “And I thought you would want to know immediately so that, ah, arrangements can be made.”

Not for the first time, Enjolras wondered how much Porter had surmised of what was going on between himself and Grantaire, and decided quickly that he cared less than making sure his mother knew absolutely nothing. “You were correct, Porter, thank you,” he said, and Porter nodded before closing the door again.

Enjolras sighed and looked back at Grantaire, but before he could say anything, Grantaire cleared his throat. “I should spend the night at mine tonight,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “The last thing you need is to start your conversation with your mother with an explanation for our unusual living arrangement.”

“I know that you’re almost certainly right, but I wish to God you weren’t,” Enjolras said, reaching out to draw Grantaire close. “I need you on my side against her.”

Grantaire just laughed and tilted his head up to kiss Enjolras, a quick, fleeting kiss. “You will be fine,” he said with far more confidence than Enjolras felt. “I promise that I will be back tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, but before or after my mother leaves?” Enjolras muttered mutinously.

Grantaire laughed again and pressed one more kiss to Enjolras’s lips. “I love you,” he murmured before stepping away. “And I will see you in the morning.”

Enjolras watched him go, dreading the next morning and wishing more than anything that he had not waited until Grantaire was out of earshot to finally reply, “I love you, too.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #with some Les Amis actually making a real appearance!#gasp!#les miserables #fanfiction #bridgerton au #regency au #canon era #fake marriage #developing relationship #chaptered #part 9

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Fame With No Shame | Part Three

A/N; I think at most there will be one more part to this series, and that will be the reveal of Luke and the readers relationship to the public. Thankyou for all of the requests for this series, please enjoy xx

Summary; in the midst of an interview, there is talk of (Y/N) dating a member. The interviewer is keen to find who is the lucky gentleman within their ranks, but can Luke remain steady though the enquiries about his girl?

Brushing his hands down his black clothed legs, Luke sat upon the seat, eyes interpreting his composure. His face was slightly flushed, aware that his hair was a bouquet of messy curls, the state of his redress had not gone unnoticed by the hostess nor his curious band members. All were wondering of whom he had hassled sexually with before this set, but nothing was mentioned, at least not yet.

A small part of him wanted to let the world know of his relationship status, and more importantly, whom he was entangled with. But it would all be released in due time, he would just have to remain both vigilant of letting anything slip and patient. The rumours could manage to infuriate and humour him all at once, so many fans had claimed to know the identity of the woman in his life.

There were many suspicions, although they were only proven by the hope and dedication of all kinds of people on sites such as tumblr and wattpad, that his lover that was concealed to their eyes was not a lady at all. It was perceived that it was a bandmate; a dear friend of his, that he was sleeping and taking midnight strolls with.

That of course was not the truth, the shipping had been dragging on for years, he sometimes wished that the guesses could be correct all by their own. (Y/N) however was amused by how much it infuriated him, and all of his frustrations would dissipate at the sound of her glorious laugh, and in the end, all that was left was for him to join in and relax.

Things between them were certainly going good, to say the least. He had never felt so elated to see someone pour themselves a mug of coffee, or tie their shoelaces. It wasn’t hard, and hadn’t been difficult for him to admit the facts – he was in love. If there was any evidence that they existed, he was sure that he had found his soulmate.

She understood not only his emotions, but his springs of motivation, the ideas that would creep in the middle of the night or whilst he was in the bathroom for songs. His process was normal to her, because she experienced the same waves of inspiration, the urge to write what flowed to mind and execute lyrics until they were sure enough ready and sounded right to be released to the rest of the world.

And together, that was like the universe had combined the two creators for a reason, to make a beautiful sound, an eternal symphony that would play on forever and a day. If people knew about them, it could disturb the state of their peace, the security that they found within their relationship. And that would be the most tragic and morbid interference that either of them could ever experience.

Hate online was strong, and (Y/N) suspected that neither of them were prepared to take the mixed responses to their newfound and blooming romance. Each of them individually received the expressions of resenting opinions, through messages, through posts, through the loop of the internet. It was never ending, the trolls were headstrong and stubborn, they didn’t want to be stopped, and any reply that they got in turn only made their day, encouraging them to cackle away at the fact that they drew a celebrity’s attention and time away from more important matters.

“And we’re live.” The hostess of the radio show confirmed, settling more comfortably into her plush, swivel seat, as she set her digging eyes into the men that were seated around the platform of a small, recorded station. “My name is Heidi, and we are here on HotRadio, with the one, the only, Five Seconds of Summer.”

Luke adjusted his headset, leaning closer to the microphone so that he was close enough to allow his reviews and answers be heard better than when he was reclined back, awaiting the start of the recording. “So now tell me boys, how was it working with (Y/N) (L/N) for your new single, Flashes.” He gulped at the mention of her name, this wasn’t the best situation, considering that he could accidentally allow some classified information slip, and spiral through the channels of the web.

“She was amazing!” Michael blazed in with his initial impression of her, a jolly grin spread across his lips and chin. “We’ve been fans of her work for so long, it was a dream to finally work with her.” His hands waved as he spoke, confirming his excitement, although working with (Y/N) had already been and gone.

“Yeah.” Ashton bobbed his head, agreeing with his friend. “She is such a talented woman, we don’t do many collaborations singing with other people, but all four of us can definitely admit that she was such a great sport. She put so much work into the song, from lyrics and notes, there is a bright future ahead of her.”

The boys speaking of her made Luke want to purposely trip in his secrecy, they had no expense from gushing over her in such an idealistic way. However if he were to join in, he’d risk the exposure of the relationship. (Y/N) would be mad at him if he were to do that, so he rubbed his chin, feeling the growing prickles of stubble against his guitar picked hands.

Heidi smiled, they were eager to tell her their what appeared to be honest opinion. Yet there were still more details that she and the fans sought; answers. There were so many questions that were lingering, waiting to be spoken aloud in the recorded air.

“Was there any romance sparked between one of you and (Y/N)? How about you Calum?” It was typical, the enquiries about the song itself, that was supposed to be the main attention of this interview , it wasn’t about love, or feelings or whatever.

The thought that Calum, out of all of them, was the one considered to have gained her affections made Luke bite the inside of his cheek. Sure, Calum was single, but so was he, or at least was in the media’s eyes, and before he met (Y/N).

Luke’s frown was subtle, but it was still there! And everyone was oblivious to his disconcerting expression, all because the spotlight shined on the bassist, and the idea that he, out of all them, was privileged enough to have possibly shared a bed or the exchange of numbers in the static noise of the track.

Cal cleared his throat, ruffling the collar of his shirt, as though there were a reason for him to be fanning himself. “I mean, I’m not one to disclose that personal information.” That son of a bitch, Luke thought. From his response, something had obviously occurred, it was too bland for an answer.

That was until said boy began to laugh, spewing a humoured chuckle from his mouth whilst looking Luke dead in the eyes. The opposing man could only frown, his face hardened by the strong crease that went down the centre of it.

“Too bad she already has a boyfriend.” Michael chipped in, the guitarist’s attitude and statement not only making Luke paranoid, but also worried. What if he were not the only one that had grabbed the affections of (Y/N)?

To begin with, it was clear that she was a bit of a player, and he had no problem with it, there was nothing wrong at all with a woman embracing her sexuality, it was even kind of sexy. But now they were partners in a relationship, and he could only trust her to be faithful.

Mikey’s words had not only drawn the intrigue of the lead singer, but also Heidi, who was leant forward in her seat, the dimples in her face prominent as she was presenting glee from hearing first time news, that was broadcasting on her radio channel.

“Are we permitted to be told who the lucky gentleman is?” How she hoped that the revelation would be unconcealed during this very interview, personally the woman was curious herself, but also the thought of the views skyrocketing encouraged her desperation for an answer.

Ash smirked, his eyes fluttering through his trio of bandmates, this was certainly entertaining for the rest of them also. Except one from the looks of it, Luke was gnawing on the outer portion of his lip. This was getting to him, just as they wanted. They knew, all along, what was occurring between Luke and the talented lady.

She had been a crush of his for a long time, and it seemed that she shared that affliction of interests, by being attracted to the natural blonde himself. It was noticeable to the boys from the first time that (Y/N) had entered the studio, their eyes navigated to the sight of the other, and their attention had to be drawn for the pair to look away from one another.

“One of us.” The eldest member replied, and Luke realised that in that moment, he had not been as discreet with the entire dating ordeal as he thought he had. They’d quickly realised that there were strings attached when Luke began to miss their nights out clubbing, and said he’d prefer to stay in and watch a movie – alone.

However, it was not a solitary activity, and binging television was not all that the promiscuous man was partaking in. The symptoms that brought light and revelation to Luke and (Y/N)’s involvement was matching marks of red suction bites around the circumferences of their throats, that eventually healed and could be concealed, however the boys could see right through their efforts.

And then there was the undebatable evidence of smeared lipstick scorned across their lips, a shade which consisted perfectly against one another, from nudes to striking reds, the pigment that streaked against Luke’s vigorously hungry lips consisted to be suspiciously similar to the original prominence that was lined and filled on (Y/N)’s own petalled mouth.

“Oh.” It appeared that the prying interviewer had not even put any efforts into hiding her pleasantly condemned grin, every detail that was slipping through the teeth of the men gave her some kind of joy.

She had somehow hit a gold mine with the answers that her pay check curiosity had earned her. There was so much going on behind the scenes that had never been revealed, and it seemed that all would be exposed, on HotRadio! “Are we granted to know which one of you is the lucky man?”

Luke shifted in his chair, gripping onto the arms with his painted nails. He was prepared to hit rock bottom in this deep deep ocean that he had swam himself into, yet a snicker left Cal, bringing all afraid and all too alert attention to him.

“I think not, we can keep a secret for a little longer.” His eyes paced slyly over to Luke, sending him an all knowing wink.

He sighed, he lived to fight another day.

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 3 years

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hello self - tumblr continues to hate us so let's just post this way #yolo

Can the past truly be rewritten? Can one simply erase the thunder and rain, leaving behind only the rainbows and sunshine? Can the imperfections be ushered away with the eraser shavings? Or will they remain engrained into the page – its presence serving as a reminder that no one can escape their past.

The answer of course, is that the past cannot be rewritten.

Recently, there were three people, connected by destiny, who struggled to accept this fact. Unfortunately, you were included in said group. But instead of surrendering, you chose to wield your stubbornness as a sword, refusing to accept reality, and refusing to accept defeat. The truth of the matter was… you could not afford to concede. As if you did, you would never be able to return to the love that bathed your world in colour. And the world has stolen far too much from you – could you really survive if it stole him?

You needed to rewrite these last few months, if you didn’t, every moment you shared with him would be tainted in a blinding crimson. The warnings issued by your best friend and sister were true – you knew that what your relationship needed was time. But you were absolutely terrified that time would not be enough to mend the damage. And so, your mind remained clouded with thoughts of fantasy and seized by fear.

“I’m leaving now, Tooru. Have fun at practice later.” A faint smile was presented in the setter’s direction, as you shoved your right hand into your jacket pocket.

“Have fun, y/n-y/n! But not too much fun.” The mocha haired male ripped his gaze away from the cellphone screen, before tossing a playful wink.

Rolling your eyes, a gentle laugh was pushed past your teeth. You were thankful that he remained oblivious to the surge of emotions thrashing against the thin mask you prepared for him. It was better this way – fake it until you make it, right?

As you began down the hallway, the clicking of your boots with the surface soon syncretized with your breathing, forcing it to a slower pace. Once in the elevator, you removed your hand from your pocket, analyzing it for any defects. The caffeine consumed earlier prompted tremors to claim your fingers. It was a miracle you were able to complete your texts without any mistakes. But it appeared that after steadying your breathing pattern, your limbs returned to regular functioning.

Maybe it would be okay. Everything would be okay.

The mantra was repeated internally until you reached the lobby, providing a boost of confidence to your step. Within a few seconds you were able to locate the one responsible for your frazzled mental state. The familiar black-haired male was stood outside the glass barriers with his eyes glued to the cement below. Dressed in blue jeans and a thin corduroy jacket, he sincerely outshined any models you were fortune enough to collaborate with. The sight flooded your senses with adoration, drowning out the remaining anxiety that inhibited your veins. When he caught onto your presence, a smile warmed his features and you found yourself unable to maintain a frown.

At the end of the day, he was still the same man you fell in love with. The same one who filled your days with love and happiness.

Perhaps that would be enough to override the scarlet rain that loomed over you.

“Hi there.” When you joined your fiancé outside, a teasing smirk tugged at the ends of your lips. “Look at you, lookin’ like a whole ass snack.”

“Well, hello to you too. I’m glad you approve of my outfit.” Joy glimmered in his grey irises while a low chuckle was expelled. He was skeptical in asking his brother for fashion guidance earlier, but it seemed that his twin’s advice was useful once again.

“Are you sure you’re not the model, and I’m the cook in the relationship? I mean, I do make some mean onigiri.” Proceeding a step closer to him, you trailed the tips of your fingers along the sleeve of his coat, permitting your fingers to linger when you reached his wrist.

His eyes flickered to your wandering hand, and without missing a beat, he caught your fingers with his, weaving them together naturally. Truthfully, he wanted to embrace you or obtain some form of physical contact the second he laid eyes on you, what he was searching for was permission. He was unsure what boundaries were required under the circumstances, but he was thankful that he was still allowed to hold your hand.

“You do. I have a lot to learn from you, chef.” With his gaze returning to yours, you were quick to notice how the physical contact eased him.

“You’re so cheesy.” Clicking your tongue, you shook your head, feigning disappointment. The theatrical response served as a distraction from the heat flowing from his skin and the little tingles spreading along your arm. But when Osamu squinted at you with an adorable pout fixing onto his lips, your resolve to continue the performance was completely obliterated. He was only playing along with your charade, and yet his response had led you to shift tactics. “Good thing I like cheese!”

Amazing save, right?

“Yeah, good thing.” The forced retort granted the cook a surge of confidence, and in a surprising movement, he leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose. The exchange forced an imaginary clog to immediately form inside your throat. Needless to say, you did not see that coming.

In an attempt to dismiss the swirl of emotions his action instigated, you pushed away from him, before beginning down the pathway. Issuing a cough to clear your passageways, your attention was forced onto a random building. “Okay, come on. We’ve got a fifteen-minute walk to go. Follow me.”

Exhaling a laugh mixed with a sigh, he nodded, trailing close behind you.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, y/n.”

The journey to the botanical garden was mostly filled with playful banter, and half-hearted laughter. Somehow you had successfully managed to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine – that your relationship was not littered in punctures. It was peaceful; the fantasy you had created. It was safe.

The botanical garden that Osamu had selected for your first stop was laid out in the style of a French garden, with a green house that resembled a crystal palace. Breathtaking was surely an understatement, and for the first time since you joined him, Osamu found himself entranced by something other than your presence. Tightening his grip around your hand, he gently brushed his thumb against your skin in a soothing manner.

“This is incredible.” The proclamation was accompanied by a wide-eyed expression. He was never into gardens; but even he was in awe at the sight ahead.

Humming in agreement, you shifted your attention to the centre fountain. It was your favourite spot on the land, and consequently where you took a picture of teddiursa for your Instagram page.

“It feels like a fairy-tale garden, huh?”

The suggestion forced him to return his gaze to you, prompting you to raise an eyebrow quizzically.

“With you here, it sure does.” He was evidently pleased with the corny statement, a fact that could be ascertained by the little twitch of his mouth. He was clearly attempting to suppress his laughter.

“You better not be saying I am a princess, because you and I both know that is not true.” Contorting your features in artificial irritation, a little huff was discharged. But the theatrics were dismantled when he voiced his explanation, replacing irritation with surprise.

“Oh, of course not. But even demons need a place to live.”

“Demon?!” Halting abruptly on the path, your mouth opened and shut twice as you struggled to find a suitable response.

“Not just a demon, the prettiest demon.” Finally releasing the laughter, he stored inside his chest, he tugged you into his embrace, before pressing his cheek against your head. A growl erupted inside of your throat as you begrudgingly rested your forehead against his chest.

“Yeah yeah. Nice save.”

A comfortable silence blanketed over you two as you began along the pathway, observing and admiring the flower-filled beds and impeccably manicured geometric lawns. However, comfort slowly morphed into distress as you wandered deeper into the vined arches that connected the greenhouse and the “garden of senses”. Without the distraction of conversation, it was straining to drown out the whispers issued by the little voice inside your head. The whispers gradually increased in volume until you could no longer differentiate your own voice from the creatures fuelling your anxiety.

It won’t last – this isn’t real. It is solely a fantasy you have forced upon yourself to cope. He doesn’t love you like he did – no matter what you do now… your love will always be infected with a fatal disease.

The featured attraction hosted only two other visitors; a couple. The happiness emanating from the couple stole the tiniest bit of sanity you were clinging to. And when the stranger knelt down on one knee, reaching for an item in his jacket, nausea bubbled inside your stomach. The sight should have not twisted your guts, tangling your organs – but it did. And it hurt. God, it hurt.

“Hey, come here.”

Despite the waves of agony that came packaged with the sight ahead; you could not stop watching. Not until your fiancé’s voice broke you from your trance. As you rubbed away at the tears hanging onto your lashes, Osamu guided you along the path until you reached an isolated portion of the garden. Once you were alone, and no longer in earshot of any others, he released your hand, then brushed through his hair in frustration.

“I know what you’re doing. You don’t have to act okay, y/n. You don’t have to force yourself to be happy.” The frustration was aimed at himself, for inadvertently pushing for some sense of normalcy. It was selfish for him to have wanted it – to have hoped for it.

“Well shit, guess I blew my cover.” The comment was coated in sarcasm, though you intended for it to sound lighter than it did. The tears resting upon the pads of your fingers did not also help the tense atmosphere.

“I need you to know that you have every right to be angry. You’re allowed to hate me!” The latter of the sentence was vocalized in a lower octave, a detail that only brought you to feel defeated. Because you don’t hate him, and you can’t hate him. “I deserve it all. But if we really want to move on, it can’t be like this.” Unsure what to do with himself, he shifted on the spot uncomfortably, tugging at his roots.

“You idiot. I don’t hate you. I hate this situation. I hate that it got to this.” Dragging a palm down your visage, a groan was muffled. “It’s fine. Can we just enjoy this, please?”

Just keep pretending that it’s okay. Keep pretending. Please. Let me keep pretending.

“No. I can’t enjoy it when you’re hurting.” Shaking his head, sorrow crossed his face, molding his features. “Talk to me. Tell me what I can do to lessen the pain.” A small step was advanced closer, he was seconds from capturing you in his arms once more, desperate to fix the pieces he damaged.

But his ambitions were momentarily abandoned when rageful sentiments ripped from your throat. “I want to start over. I want to erase what happened! Can you do that, ‘Samu?! Do you have a damn magic pencil and a magic storybook that can fix everything?!” Clenching your teeth, your eyelids narrowed into daggers. Of course, your question was unreasonable, you knew that. But you were exhausted, so damn exhausted and you didn’t care.

You genuinely expected him to point out the flaws in your request, yet instead you were met with laughter. Pressing a palm against his stomach, the cook laughed loudly, even stumbling a step back in the process. At this point it was impossible to tell who was the insane one – him or you.

“Are you laughing at my pain, you sadistic gremlin?” Your mascara heavy eyelids fluttered open and shut as you strived to comprehend what was occurring.

Osamu raised a finger, silently requesting that you abandon your accusations as he composed himself.

“No. I’m laughing at the fact you’re screaming at me and referencing a tv show at the same time. It’s the most you thing you’ve done in a while.” Resuming his mission to eliminate the space between you, he caught your face with both of his palms, before aligning his forehead with yours. His reasons for breaking into laughter held some logic, but a pout still registered onto your mouth. And even with your foreheads connected, you averted your stare, unable to maintain eye contact. “Listen to me, y/n. I don’t have a magic pencil, or a magic storybook. And don’t even think of asking if I have a hot tub time machine. But I will do whatever I can to make this right. Just tell me… something reasonable.”

For a moment, you chewed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating what answer to bestow upon him. In the end, your heart took reign of your vocal cords, leaving your brain face palming in shame. “I wanna redo these last three months.”

Woops, you said it.

Osamu blinked down at you, mulling over your strange request. If he could snap his fingers and go back in time, he would. But maybe there was another way to accomplish this goal. Inhaling a breath, he nudged his nose against yours in effort to gain your wandering attention. “Okay. Let’s do that. I’ll reset our phones, and calendars. We can do it right. You can do more gigs and I’ll follow you around the world. I won’t miss a single thing.” The proposal did not contain a single hint of humour, he needed you to know that he was serious.

“Really?” His words impelled a fluttering sensation to bloom inside your chest. The fact he was even entertaining your bizarre request was astounding. It was enough to nourish the seed of hope that was planted with his arrival.

“Yeah. Really.” Lowering his face, he guided his mouth to yours. The tenderest kiss was applied to your lips, lasting barely a minute. You loved how you could taste the sweetness of the tea he had earlier in the day. How his lips fit against yours perfectly. And mostly, you loved that this time, the action did not fill you with fear for the future.

You were simply… hopeful, and maybe a little bit excited.

“So what do you say, y/n? Let’s do it again, shall we?”

Let’s do it again, shall we - let’s do it again

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: after battling with tumblr for days, I AM OVER THIS. :( BUT THANK YOU GUYS FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND STAYING BY ME EVEN THO I POST SO SLOWLY ;-;-; YOU GUYS ARE WONDERFUL.

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @yourstarvic @suna-r1n@newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @4fterh0urs @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose @fandomtrashpandasposts @helloalex80 @stfucanunot @envyusshades @cuddlesslut @seijohiseliterambles @meiikuki @cuddlejeongin @tchalameme @elianetsantana @hxked

#osamu smau #haikyuu smau #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu x reader

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 11 ~Suspicious Minds~

Picture Edit by melodyheart

Previously in The Art of Non-Communication ...

A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath.

"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."

"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."

Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.

"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

Claire hurriedly made her way to Slater's Arms to meet Tom Christie. They'd arranged earlier to meet at the pub after he'd dropped her off at the village centre to do her errands, so she was surprised to see him waiting outside. After exchanging a hurried cursory hello, he allowed him to guide her through the half-filled bar, his hand ever so lightly touching her elbow. They were greeted by a string of boisterous sallies from the locals, to which Tom good-humouredly responded with a couple of wisecracks of his own . It was becoming pretty clear they were in his local haunt and was well-liked by its patrons. But she also suspected there could be whispers going around, wondering what she was doing with him. Despite those thoughts, she kept her head up, and a smile plastered to her face.

After navigating through the narrow maze of tables and chairs, they opted for an empty space by the window, away from the bar where a heated football discussion was just about to begin. They simultaneously slid into their seats, sitting opposite each other, his lopsided grin and lax manner putting her immediately at ease. He was seemingly oblivious to the curious stares around them, but Claire paid no heed to the attention they were garnering and pushed her earlier encounter with Jenny away from her mind. This was a professional meeting, a welcome distraction even though it was proving an impossibility not to picture Jamie across from her. Suddenly missing Jamie, she allowed her thoughts to momentarily drift and wondered what he was up to.

"Hey."

Claire snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"I asked if ye're hungry."

"Oh! Well, I'm not sure," she murmured, squinting at the specials scrawled on the blackboard hanging behind the bar. "Sort of, I guess."

"Sort of?" he laughed. "What kind of answer is that?" He passed her a menu. "Here. Ye ought to try their haggis tweeds. They have the best in this area."

She snorted, taking the menu card and skimming through it. "Really? I've never met a Scot who liked haggis, and yet every one of you lot I've met recommends it to non-locals."

"Aaahh," he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "To be honest, I dinnae like haggis myself when cooked the traditional way. But the haggis tweeds are different ...more palatable. They're rolled into balls, breaded and deep-fried. I'm quite sure ye'll like them."

"Hmmm ..." When she glanced up from the menu, she met his thoughtful gaze. Though smiling, he had an odd expression on his face. "Wot?" She smoothed her hair, thinking it must be all over the place. She dreaded what her hair looked like after being caught in the rain earlier on. She wished now she'd tied it back before leaving the cottage. "Anything wrong?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Just noticing ye dinnae look as upbeat as ye sounded on the phone the first time we talked. I was expecting ye to be more excited about selling me the idea of publishing my travel book. Ye kinda look as if something is bothering ye. Is anything the matter?"

She let out an exhale and placed the menu down. "I'm sorry. I've just had a rough day."

"Boyfriend problem?" he asked slowly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. Friendly as Tom was, Claire wasn't prepared to share any details of her personal life. "I just have a lot of things going on, and then you threw me out of the loop," she explained, not wanting to lie but not wanting to over-share either. "I was caught off-guard when you phoned earlier, and I wasn't expecting your call until, at least, sometime next week."

"Ye could've told me to meet at a later date. I wouldnae have minded."

"No! Today is fine," she assured him quickly. "I'm probably slowly weaning from the fast pace of hectic schedules in London, that at the first sign of change, I stumble a bit."

He grinned. "Weel, whatever is bothering ye, I dinnae like you looking so downcast. Maybe we can do something about it right now and tell ye a bit of good news. To cheer ye up."

"I like good news ..." she remarked, perking up, guessing he probably had a new picture or post on his blog he wanted to show.

"That's much better," he said when he caught a hint of a smile forming on her face. "As I was saying, I have a bit of good news. I've been giving your proposition a lot of thought ..." he shifted on his seat and took a deep breath. "I've decided I want to go ahead and publish my travel blog in print."

She blinked and swallowed before finding her voice. "But you haven't seen the projected sale and all the ..."

He waved a hand. "I'm quite sure after that impressive pitch over the phone, yer projected whatever and other wotnots ye wish to go over with me will be just as equally convincing. The idea is sold, and I'm on board."

"Just like that?"

He nodded his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye. Now that I've met ye in person, I'm pretty confident ye'll make sure I'll get a fair deal for my book. I'm a good judge of character, and I trust ye'll do what's right."

"Of course."

"So it's settled."

"Well, that's ...that's fabulous," she breathed, her mind rushing in all sorts of direction.

"This calls for a celebration, don't ye think?" he smiled, waving at the waitress.

Before Claire could reply, her purse vibrated. She pointed an index finger at Tom. "Hold that thought." She opened her bag and grabbed her phone. It was her boss, John Grey.

"Oh, hi, John! I'm in the middle of ..."

"Claire, I'm sorry to dump this on you," John said rapidly in a panicky tone. "Mary Hawkins just phoned and said she expects you to pick her up at Inverness Airport."

"Wot?!? But how? Why?" She glanced at Tom and noticed a light frown lining his brows. "She hasn't been answering any of my emails. What the hell is she doing in Inverness?" She knew it wasn't professional to be discussing another author over the phone with a potential client in front of her. But it couldn't be helped. At the moment, she was far too agitated to care. Mary Hawkins, the publishing's star author, had been elusive ever since she disappeared to France, and she'd been the reason Claire had decided to take a break in Scotland only to be given another job in the form of Tom Christie. "Please don't tell me you sent her here. I have enough on my plate as it is." She gave Tom an apologetic look, to which he just shrugged and smiled in understanding.

A frustrated sigh came from John. "I swear to God, this isn't my doing. She arrived yesterday here in London, and when she demanded to start work right away on her book, I assigned another editor. But she wouldn't have it. She insisted on working with you. So I told her you're in Inverness doing another project. And then she called a few minutes ago, demanding you pick her up at the airport. I swear I didn't know she was planning on flying to Inverness."

Oh, God! "John!" she whined. "I can't just drop everything and pick her up. I'm an editor, not a chauffeur! I'm in the middle of talks with Mr Christie."

"I'm terribly sorry for this mess, Claire but, isn't there anything you can do? Your boyfriend, perhaps? You know how Hawkins is a big deal for the company."

She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Claire felt she was being put in a position she didn't want to be in. On top of it all, her uncle would be arriving in two days, and there was the added worry she had with Jamie and potentially Jenny. The day was definitely getting worse by the second, but Claire reminded herself she was John's only hope, and he was a friend and had always been good to her. When she finally had the strength to open her eyes again, Tom mouthed something she couldn't quite catch.

Wot do you mean? She mouthed back, shaking her head.

"Claire, are you still there?"

"Yes!" she snapped, tamping down the urge to curse. "I'm here!"

"Well?"

She let out a frustrated breath. There was no way out of it. "Fine, John! But you owe me big time! I'll see what I can do." Damn it!

"You're a star!" John said, relief lacing his voice. "I knew I could rely on you. I'll text Hawkins to let her know you're on your way, and then I'll text you her private number. I don't think you'll have that. It's one of the reasons you couldn't get in touch with her. Anyway, let me know later how you get on."

Before she could answer, the line went dead. What the bloody hell just happened?

Claire dropped her head into her hands and groaned. She wanted to bawl, throw stuff and pull her hair out in frustration.

"Problems?"

She raised her head and looked at Tom. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. I have to cancel our meeting. I need to somehow get to Inverness and pick up this author I'm working with." Without going into too many details, Claire quickly explained her predicament, almost forgetting to breathe. By the time she finished, she was gasping for air and wondering if Tom understood what the hell she was on about. "As you can see, I probably have to organise her accommodation as well. So I really must get going." She stood up and grabbed her bag. "Raincheck?"

He got on his feet as well. "Look, I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How about I drive you to Inverness. I can even help you set her up."

"Tom, you don't have to."

"Hey, I'm about to get a book deal from your boss. Let me at least prove to ye what a perfect travel guide I am as I've portrayed on my blog."

Claire stopped to collect herself. On second thoughts, she did need Tom's help, and she couldn't well impose on Willie to drive her to Inverness when he'd been taking time off to check up on her ever since Jamie left. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone and talk him through his own book's publishing process on their way to the airport. It was a brilliant idea, and hopefully, by the end of today, John would be able to draw up a contract for Tom. With a resigned smile, Claire appreciatively accepted the offer. "Alright then, but we do need to get going now."

"Absolutely. We'll go through the back door." When Claire looked at him curiously, he grinned. "I've parked the car in the staffs' parking lot. I'm good friends with the owner, so I get the privilege to walk through the kitchen and use the backdoor," he explained. Then he leaned closer to her ear and spoke in a low voice. "And if the chef is in a good mood, he might allow us to taste today's menu."

Claire laughed out loud, attracting attention from the pub's clientele. She ignored the curious stares. It was good to laugh again after the last couple of days of feeling down, and she owed it to herself to steer negativity and worries from her thoughts. "We'll stop by the cottage to get some clothes. Knowing my client, she'll probably want to stay in a posh hotel in Inverness and want to start working right away. She doesn't do bed and breakfast or small places. So I doubt she'll want to come to Broch Mordha."

Tom nodded with a smile as he took her hand and lead the way.

Heading to the back of the pub, Claire made a few mental notes on what she needed to take with her. She also reminded herself to message Willie about taking care of Rollo and Adso while she's away, hoping he would think nothing of it when he hears from the village gossip of her meeting with Tom.

...........

Jamie caught Willie's livid expression before the car started, and they were driving down the small country lane. He knew his brother was miffed with Ian, who'd sped ahead of them after revealing Claire's whereabouts with Christie. Though common sense told him he had nothing to be worried about, it had been still a punch in the gut to hear Claire was out with another man.

"Can ye speed up a bit?" Jamie muttered, shifting restlessly on his seat.

"We're not in a bloody motorway, and there are speed limits for a reason," Willie growled, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "And it will do ye a lot of good to use this time to calm down before we reach Claire. It's obvious ye're not thinking clearly."

Jamie almost wished he'd taken a ride with Ian instead. They couldn't see their brother-in-law's red Fiat anymore as it disappeared at a bend further ahead. But he knew Willie was right. He wasn't thinking clearly. It's just that, why it had to be Thomas Christie of all people Claire had chosen to go out with. He had nothing against the bloke, but he was a renowned player. What if Claire had grown tired of his condition and fell for Christie's charms? It wouldn't be a difficult feat as the bloke oozed charms by the bucketload. Hadn't he lost a girlfriend in the past because of Christie? Or was it because of his condition? He couldn't be sure anymore. Either way, knowing Claire was with Christie at this very moment was burning a hole in his stomach. "So ye're an expert on my thoughts now, are ye?" Jamie grunted, unable to think of a better excuse for his behaviour.

"I dinnae need to be an expert to know what ye're thinking ... it's written all o'er yer face," Willie retorted. "If ye'd called her up in the first place, then ye would've had a fair idea why she's meeting Christie, and ye wouldnae be in this stinking shite thinking the worse. The lass has been worried sick about ye, and she's put up with yer silence more than what could be expected of her. So do both yerselves a favour and calm the fuck down, aye?"

Jamie knocked back the claustrophobic sensation and forced himself to breathe. This had always been his trouble with his PTSD. He always had these intense emotions that always grew out of proportion to a point it would suffocate him, especially negatives ones like a feeling of lacking or guilt. Wasn't that what Geneva had said? There was a lot of misplaced guilt involved? And no matter what he did to get better, it was a bloody never-ending cycle that always brought him back to square one. But despite the shortcomings, he knew it would kill him if he didn't give himself a fighting chance with Claire. He might as well die trying. She was, after all, either going to be his reason for living or the reason he died. It was all right there, shining in front of him like a floodlight.

With a sigh, he tried to relax. Jamie knew justifying his earlier behaviour was a bad idea in both their current edgy states, but nothing would stop him from seeing Claire right now. It was like a need that required satisfying, and he couldn't wait to finally see her. He focused on the road ahead of them and listened to the radio to take his mind of negative thoughts.

It's a dreich Thursday afternoon, and here's another trip down memory lane with Mac's Classics here at MFR, with the biggest hits and the biggest throwbacks. Next up is a song sure to make ye forget the dreary days ahead – Let's get rickrolling with Never Gonna Give You Up.

"Turn it up," Jamie said suddenly, surprising his brother.

"What?" Willie glanced at him like he'd grown a pair of horns.

"I said, turn the bloody volume up!"

"Ye're joking, right? Rick fucking Astley? Nae chance pal!"

"Just do it," Jamie huffed, not caring what his brother thought of his song choice. When Claire had told him it had made her smile listening to it in the cafe the other day, he'd listened to it as well on his mother's antique record player. It was a bloody awful song, but for some strange reason, it had made him smile too.

Scowling and cursing under his breath, Willie eventually complied, and they listened to Rick Astley's song for the rest of the way. When they reached the village centre, Willie illegally parked outside Slater's Arms, carefully avoiding bumping into the menacing bollards. They were just about to get out of the car when Ian appeared from the pub, shaking his head.

Willie stuck his head out of the window. "What's the matter?"

"They're gone," Ian replied, shrugging, perplexity evident in his expression. "Spoke to Angus, and he said they didn't even order anything. They just got up and left."

Jamie got out of the car. "Did he say where they went?"

Ian narrowed his gaze at him. "I didnae ask."

Jamie ran a hand in front of his face and got back in the car. His brother had to work. There was only one thing left he could do, and it was to go back to the cottage, and if Claire wasn't there, he'd give her a call. He turned to Willie, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Just drop me off at the cottage. I've taken too much of yer time already."

"Ye sure?" Willie asked quietly. "I can drop ye off at Lallybroch. Yer car is there. Ye'll most probably need it soon, especially with more bad weather to come."

Jamie shook his head. He was certain Claire would be at home, and if not, surely later. He wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon but had every intention of making up for lost time with her. "It's time to go home," Jamie sighed, waving goodbye to Ian. "No more running away,"

Willie smiled, starting the car. "Good choice!"

It was a short drive to his cottage, and by the time they pulled up outside his house, the sun started to peek out for a splinter of a moment, his driveway though occupied by an unfamiliar vehicle. As soon as he saw a man's profile sat on the driver's seat, he immediately knew it was Christie. As if anticipating his next move and before he could yank off his seatbelt, Willie slapped a hand across his chest.

"What?" Jamie wheezed.

"Claire's in the cottage. Talk to her first and find out what's going on before ye jump to any conclusions."

Jamie breathed through a laugh, but he could hear it was edged with doubt. "What if I've fucked this up?"

"Ye havenae. And it's up to ye to keep that way. Now go to her. Ye'll find out soon enough there's a perfect explanation for Christie hanging about."

Words were fighting to leave his tongue, but he clamped his lips together and held them back. Vocalising the feelings raging inside his chest would only allow his emotions to run away with him. He reigned them in and took a deep breath. Whether it's a consequence of PTSD or not, he couldn't expect Claire to understand every time. So instead, Jamie gave Willie a reassuring nod and hoped his brother was right.

He got out of the car and walked straight to the cottage, refusing to acknowledge Christie. He knew he was being rude and could feel his brother's eyes boring into his back as well as Christie's. He didn't care because right at this moment, his primary focus was Claire.

As soon as he opened the door and saw Claire hooking a bag onto her shoulder, he bounded across the room, dropping his face into her neck and breathing for the first time in days. "Sassenach," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for leaving ye. I wasnae thinking. Please forgive me."

Claire dropped her bag on the floor, wrapping both arms around his neck. "Jamie, you're here," she breathed into his ear. "Are you alright? God, I've been so worried about you."

"I'm alright now that I'm here and ye're here," he rasped, lifting his head for a moment and eyeing the bags on the floor. "Why are yer bags packed?"

She followed his gaze. "I ...ah ... it's work, and I have to ..."

"Ye're going back to London?"

"No!"

That's all he needed to hear. Unable to wait any longer for an explanation, he pulled her into his arms as urgency pumped in his veins. He badly needed to absorb as much as he could of her, breathing her in, in huge gulps of air. His mouth travelled over her neck, into her hair, across her lips, whispering for forgiveness, his hands restless as he touched her everywhere.

"Hey, look at me ... there's nothing to forgive," she murmured, drawing away. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and searched his eyes. "I understand what you've been going through, and I know you're fighting your hardest. It's going to be alright."

"I've missed ye." He turned his face to kiss her palm before placing her hand on his chest. "I-I thought ye're better off without me. I thought I could walk away from ye, and it would be enough knowing ye're safe from me. But nothing was right. I was sick to the soul, knowing I've left ye. I wanted ye to be with a better man than me, but now ... I'm gonnae be selfish and beg ye to let me be that man by yer side."

"Jamie, where's this coming from?" she queried. "I was worried and afraid for you, but I haven't changed my mind about us." She sighed. "Your brother told me yesterday, you were seeing a therapist this morning. Did you go today?"

Jamie swallowed and nodded, unable to still his hands, touching her everywhere, needing to assure himself he was really holding her.

"Is this why you're talking like this? Has the therapy dug up a lot of unwanted issues? Because if it has, it's perfectly normal."

"No!" He let out a frustrated breath. He'd been so unpredictable with the symptoms of his PTSD coming and going, she wasn't taking him seriously when he needed her to hear him out. "No, please listen and look me in the eye. I panicked when I saw the bruises on yer arms, and without thinking, I left. I did what I did because I didnae think I could ever be the man for ye ...a bloody disappointment, constantly causing ye grief. But I understand now why my condition is out of control at the moment ... it's because I have suppressed emotions that need to come out. It's been coming out more because all this while, ye've been the key to my healing. So I'm handing everything inside me over to ye because I trust ye, and ye're the only one who can make sense of me. I cannae promise smooth sailing, Sassenach, but there is one thing I know ye can depend on and will always be constant despite my condition. And that's my love for ye. I can guarantee ye with certainty ye can rely on that. This isnae a result of my therapy talking, alright? I willnae let ye go for anything. I can work around my condition with ye by my side, and I'll work twice as hard to get better."

"Jamie, I love you too, and I have no doubt that ..."

"Then why are your bags packed?" he questioned accusingly. "And why is Christie outside waiting for ye?"

With a sharp intake of breath, Claire quickly explained everything from the call she received from her boss to Christie's involvement and an impatient Mary Hawkins waiting for her at the airport.

He could tell she was itching to go by the way she tried to subtly glance at her watch, but he was feeling too selfish. "How about I drive ye to Inverness?" he cajoled, his hand stroking her hair. "Willie is still outside. We'll get my car in Lallybroch, and I'll drive ye." He suddenly felt like a bastard keeping her from doing her work.

"Jamie, no!" she said gently but firmly. He knew she was restraining herself from rushing off, wanting to make sure he was alright first. "I can't be fretting about you being in a city when I have work to do. There's a possibility I'll be back tonight, but if Mary wants to work straight away on her book, then I have to stay in Inverness for a couple of nights, tops. Besides, I need to explain to Tom about his book's publication and make sure he hasn't changed his mind. Until we've drawn up a contract, nothing is certain." Her hands smoothed the hard muscles on his chest. "Besides, I need you to be here when my uncle comes. He'll be hiring a car, so he won't require picking up."

"What? Ye're uncle is coming here?" he almost shouted.

"No. I mean, uncle Lamb won't be staying here in the cottage even though you told him he could. I've already booked him a place in the village centre ...close to the amenities."

He let out a sigh of relief. He didn't think he was ready to bond with Harry's look-alike ...yet. If anything, he dreaded it, afraid of other suppressed memories dying to come out and choke him with guilt.

"Jamie, I really ought to go. I promise I'll call later and explain everything."

With a groan, he pulled Claire in once more in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and she responded with a whimper that told him she was enjoying the kiss. He hadn't even had a second to savour getting her back before the prospect of letting her go again struck him like a baseball bat between the shoulder blades. But he wanted to give her something to remember while she's away and what she'll be missing if she didn't hurry up with her work. He slipped his hand under her cardigan, caressing her nipple with the calloused pad of his thumb and pressing his burgeoning erection against her belly.

"I love ye ...always remember that." His mouth coasted along the lines of her jaw, his hands squeezing her waist. "I ken ye've been patient and understanding with me, but just try to be extra tolerant with me for now. Can ye do that?"

She nodded, her face red from beard burn. "Alright, but I do need to go, Jamie." Her eyes flashed. "And you have nothing to worry about. So please rest up tonight because you'll need a hell of a lot of energy when my uncle comes."

It's the way she looked at him, pleading for understanding that became his undoing as if she's reading his thoughts, and despite everything he'd done, she couldn't find fault with a single one. He needed to be a better man and control his emotions and needs. Her work was important to her, and she was important to him. "Fine, I'll walk ye to the car." He stooped down to get her bags and followed her outside.

They stopped beside Christie's car, and Jamie watched the other man climbed out, both men grunting a greeting at each other.

"Am I still driving ye to Inverness, Claire?" Christie asked, avoiding Jamie's eyes.

Claire nodded. "Yes, please, if that's still alright with you. I'm so sorry I took so long."

"It's nae bother, and of course, I'll drive ye to Inverness," Christie smiled warmly.

A long silence stretched as the three of them just stood there. Christie rocked on his heels, and Jamie held on to Claire's bags like it was his lifeline.

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie while launching if looks could kill look over her head. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, and it dragged him down, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him.

"I don't want to go," she murmured against his mouth. "Not one bit. But I'm doing this for us, remember that. The sooner I'm done with work, the more time we can spend time together."

He allowed himself to wade into the shallow waters of comfort Claire was starting to represent. He'd lived with this reality for too long that he wasn't enough. Or probably worse, he was too much. For years, these memories of loss and guilt and shame had been subdued. Now they're coming out with guns blazing, and he felt totally defenceless. But with her arms around him, he felt cocooned in her bubble of protection. So he clung to her like a drunk with his last shot of whisky, the desperation inside him going into overdrive, and he was practically mauling her lips with no care whose watching, drawing her onto tiptoes so he could get all of her from every angle.

"Jamie," she whispered shakily, gently pulling away. "My phone is going off every second. Mary is probably wondering why I haven't called her."

Breathe, lad, it's going to be alright. Don't lose yer cool, or ye'll drive her away. He let go and opened the car door for her, not taking any notice of the man waiting patiently at the driver's seat. "I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled.

"It's alright." She smiled in understanding, squeezing his hand. "I'll be back before you know it."

He held on to Claire's eyes, the only tangible thing he could grasp, giving him a renewed determination to manage the condition that had ruled him all his life. At that moment, the world suddenly made sense, and he was veering into a place he didn't recognise ...a place of calm, where the voices in his head had lost their dominion over his thoughts.

He watched as Christie's Land Rover drove away and was surprised when a hand landed on his shoulder. Jamie turned around to discover Willie stood there, a smile etched on his face. Jamie had forgotten about his brother, too caught up with Claire's departure and the intense emotions he'd nearly let out of control.

"Ye did well, bràthair. I'm so proud of ye."

Jamie dropped his head forward and let out an exhale, feeling a lot lighter in days. He knew he'd only scratched the surface of their relationship, but Claire was giving him all the time in the world to get back on his feet, and he was determined not to disappoint her. Though it had been a struggle not to let his emotions take control, it was at least a start. He glanced up at his brother and smiled.

"Ye alright there, Jamie lad?" Willie playfully slapped him on the back for good measure.

"Aye, I think so." This time Jamie meant it and believed his own words. He threw an arm around Willie's shoulder, squeezed it briefly before stepping back. "And thank ye for sticking around. I owe ye one."

"Aye ye do," Willie grinned. "How about repaying me like right now and coming to work. It should keep yer mind busy and help me catch up with a long list of jobs."

Jamie didn't need prodding. His mouth curved into a smile, and he nodded his head. "After seeing Christie, I think I'm in the mood for uprooting trees."

They shared a wicked glance and then laughed out loud.

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your patience with this story and the feedback from the previous chapter.

Mental health stories are, I personally think, the hardest to put across because it involves a lot of emotions and psychological battle that are difficult to put into words. But I was determined to write this account even though it has its challenges, so I hope I've done it justice.

Part of the reason for pushing to write such a story that delves into the mind of a tortured soul is to raise mental health awareness because there are many things that people still don't understand about this illness. In saying that, some of you were disappointed by Jamie's behaviour, and I wanted that to happen to make a point.

In real life, it's so much easier to categorise and point out someone's shortcoming instead of trying to understand the psyche of a person's behaviour. From my perspective, each of us has undoubtedly suffered a form of mental illness at least once, but not everyone has the emotional and psychological strength and maturity to cope or overcome it. Nor do they have access to help. In Jamie' case, he's got a strong network of family, and he got Claire to help him get through it.

So the moral of the story is, spread kindness because you never know what really is going on in someone's mind.

For now, take care of yourselves. Until the next update ... X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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