#but she is so conditioned to block out any emotion I don’t see her looking out for Zuko | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fushipurro · 7 months ago

Text

Red Lights Red Flags

Chapter 8 - Secrets & Betrayal

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, implied non-con (two very brief sentences), emotional hurt/little comfort, physical violence, degradation, angst

☆ Word Count: 3.6k

As warmer weather takes hold and the trees begin to flower, it’s a sure sign that spring is on the horizon. Not a cloud in the sky dares to block out the sun, and all the mounds of snow are but a distant memory. However. in its wake, the ground is left exceedingly parched, with no telling of rain to cleanse its thirst.

With these conditions, many of the courtesans have taken to spend their daylight hours enjoying the light out on porches or in the courtyard of the brothel. Shion had made plans with you ahead of time to enjoy some tea with her, alongside a few others close to her.

You enter the courtyard, making your way towards the gazebo with a tray in hand, only to see that the guests of honor or none other than two other high-ranking flowers ─ Murasaki and Tsubaki.

The latter perks up upon your arrival, cheerfully pressing her palms together. “You must be Marigold,” she greets with a rich, sultry voice, “Come, sit with us, my dear.”

You dip your head in a slight bow, setting the tray down and distributing ceramic cups evenly filled with fresh tea first. In the presence of Shion alone, you feel comfortable being yourself without all the extra mannerisms expected of you. But with this being your first formal meeting with the reigning courtesans, you decide it best to appear proper and refined.

The last thing you want is another ordeal about respect or remembering your place like Botan had beaten into you.

The three flowers carry the weight of the conversation while you opt to sit in silence, enjoying this chance to be in their presence. Contrary to the rivalries you’ve witnessed in your working career, these women act as though they’re friends ─ sisters even.

There’s no tension or complaints, simply humor and mundane conversations. At least, until Tsubaki narrows in on a topic that unravels that momentary peace.

“Have you heard the news yet?” She asks, her question posed towards the aster.

Shion’s response comes with a smile laced in underlying sorrow, “I have, it’s quite a shame.” There’s a brief pause as she sips on her tea. You glance up to them with a raised brow, unsure what they’re referring to. “I’ll miss days like these after you’re gone.”

“As will I,” Murasaki speaks with a somber tone, but her lips form a smile nearly betraying those feelings. “I am looking forward though to my new life.”

“Where are you going?” you ask, unable to sustain your curiosity any further.

“I’m to be sold to one of my top clients ─ an official from the Kamo Clan,” she tells you, and it makes perfect sense now to you.

Buying out courtesans from their duties is a common tradition, but the price ranges based on the status they hold. For someone to have the funds needed to acquire the wisteria herself, they would have to belong to one of the founding clans.

The thought of it forms a new question in your mind, one that’s been bugging you for quite some time.

What about your debt?

You were among the dozens sent to the Gojo estate ─ the payments for those services would have to be a large chip off the debt you hold. How much more could you possibly owe at this point?

“Do you believe your love will do the same for you soon?” Tsubaki asks of you.

Your eyes widen at the insinuation that she knows your secret. You look to Shion for an answer, but her eyes remain closed with a knowing smile as she takes another sip.

“Don’t look surprised, Shion’s told me all about your routine escapades,” she snickers teasingly so, “Quite the little scandal, but one I would never feel good about spoiling so don’t fret, my dear.”

You sigh, relieved from her words. “I can’t imagine he needs to,” you remark. “Once my debt is paid off, I’ll be leaving of my own accord.”

There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere, the air stilling as each of the three exchange unspoken words with one another.

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure if I should be the one telling you this but…” Tsubaki’s eyes flicker to Shion, who nods with approval. “…you should know that there is no walking out of here without a price.”

Huh? That can’t be right?

“What about my debt? What’s the point of it then?” Panic settles in over your features, making you feel as though everything you’ve been told has been all one big lie confessed to you now for the first time.

“Control,” Shion says. “Some come to the pleasure district on their own accord, while others are born into it.” She looks down at her cup, eyes coating with a thin layer of gloss. “Then there are those like you ─ a victim of circumstance. What you call your ‘debt’ is merely the price for your life that Hanami has already paid up for.”

“H-how am I supposed to leave then? To be free?” Your voice cracks between words. “Toji has a bounty on his head, he can’t just walk in here with a pouch of gold and leave with me!” Tears spill from your eyes despite your efforts to remain poised.

“Shh, little one,” Shion coos, grasping your hand between hers, rubbing smooth shapes over the top. “Hope is not yet lost for you, do not give up.”

You don’t, or rather can’t answer right away as you need a minute to calm down. “What can I even do?” you whisper.

“For now, nothing. The answer will reveal itself to you in time,” she answers, cryptic as ever, but it’s not good enough for you ─ no, not this time. You’re tired of secrets and want a straight answer.

“Are there any other ways to leave besides being bought?”

“Tainting your value,” Tsubaki informs, earning a scolding glare from the aster.

Shion turns back to you, sighing softly, “As Tsubaki says, that is an option, but not one I recommend. I tried it once, but it made no difference in the end except for losing a piece of myself in the process.”

The hurt in her voice tempers your anger. “May I ask what happened?”

The motions of her thumb cease, but in turn, her grip tightens around you. “I met a man I truly loved around the time I first arrived here, much like yourself. My family had sold me to pay off their debt, and I sought solace in the only one who understood me under the moonlight.”

She pauses, a ghost of a smile appearing as she recalls the memory through her mirrored form in her teacup.

“Hanami had her reasons for wanting to maintain my purity, but I desired an escape above all else. When the day came that my moon-cycle disappeared, I was overjoyed to finally taint that vision of hers.”

Her expression drops into one filled with sorrow and residual spite. Tsubaki and Murasaki keep their eyes on Shion throughout it all, supporting her in silence as they too are reliving this moment in time.

“Hanami was mad, unimaginably so, but I could tell from her wicked eyes that she had something new in mind. Right then and there, I knew that if I were to have a daughter, she would live a fate worse than mine. She would’ve been born and raised, in service to this brothel until the day she dies as Hanami’s perfect gem, carefully crafted as such by her own hands.”

You grimace at this revelation, knowing all too well that she’s right. Hanami at her core is a twisted curse, a cruel woman who cares nothing for others. With how often Shion treats you like her own daughter, you finally understand why after this.

She is a mother, or at least was.

“I was kept in a cage for a while after, but not even Hanami could hope to break my spirits. That would become my duty, the night my daughter took her first breath of life, I had to let go.”

She spares a thoughtful look to Tsubaki who you conclude must have been at her side when it all occurred. As one of the oldest courtesans in this brothel alone, she must have all sorts of history to tell.

“I hope when my darling little Mei grows up, she’ll understand why I couldn’t be there for her all this time.” Shion concludes her tale with a one sole teardrop falling from her eye onto the surface of her tea. A wave ripples through, soon settling back to an eerie calm.

You take a few moments before responding, “I am so sorry, Shion. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt.”

“I truly hope you never know the pain of losing one of your own, my little Marigold.”

“That crone never has forgiven you for that, has she?” Tsubaki snorts. “Even with the stack she’s getting from Kamo, I’m betting she’ll be out for blood soon enough.”

“Relief is what she should feel for not having me around with my technique to worry about,” Murasaki retorts with an amused face, but her words confuse you.

Technique?

“My birth family may have thought of me as a stain for it, but Noritoshi shows much more delicacy on the matter. I’m certain we’ll have a true, loving family with each other.”

“What do you mean by techni–“

“Excuse me,” someone interrupts. You and the three turn to a courtesan standing just outside the gazebo. “My apologies, but Hanami is requesting your presence,” the woman says, looking directly to you.

Shion releases your hand, almost begrudgingly so with cautious intent. Whatever the case, you can’t refuse an audience with the proprietor, so, you stand and bid farewell to the flowers.

The courtesan who came for you urges you to follow her, but along the way you realize she isn’t leading you to Hanami’s Rose Room. In fact, they’re taking you the complete opposite way, down a familiar stretch of hallways only to stop in front of a set of doors you hoped never to have to enter through again.

The Peony Room.

You now recognize the woman at your side to be one of Botan’s own, reality dawning on you that whatever is inside cannot be good. They slide the door open before you can react, all while your heart starts to beat a mile a minute, threatening to escape the confines of your chest if this keeps up.

The group inside only makes it worse. Not only are Botan and Hanami present, but in the center is a man you know to be one of the Zenin Clan’s own ─ Jinichi Zenin.

It’s instantaneous the way fear takes hold of your body, draining you of color, leaving you feeling cold and clammy. His piercing gaze alone is enough to have every hair on your body standing, your mind begging you to run while you still can.

You wouldn’t get far anyways.

“Sit. Now,” Hanami decrees, with a low growl that forces you right to your knees. “Care to explain what you’ve been hiding?”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your trembling hands folded over one another on the tatami. “W-what do you mea–“

“Don’t play stupid,” Botan scoffs. “We know all about the secret you’ve been keeping.”

Your eyes widen.

“Did you honestly believe you could hide it while under my roof?” Hanami clicks her tongue, her patience thinning. “I certainly don’t let you live here for free out of the kindness of my heart.” Her words are anything but kind, instead dripping with animosity.

Jinichi raises his hand, motioning for their silence. “Where is my brother?” he then inquires, his voice noticeably calmer than the two women.

“I-I don’t know,” you reply, meek as ever from the weight of his gaze.

“Did no one ever teach you respect? You should know better than to lie to me.” Jinichi’s eyes narrow with malice as he looks down on you. “Now I’ll ask again. Where is Toji,” he repeats in a commanding tone, rich in hostility.

His calmness was but an act to fool you, and it failed. Now he can resort to his other means.

“I don’t know!” You lift your face to meet his, tears coating your cheeks. “He doesn’t tell me where he goes!” You tell him the truth, only because it can’t betray Toji. You really don’tknow where he is.

“You lying bitch!” Botan spits with unrepressed fury. “What is it that you think will happen? Do you honestly believe he’s going to come ‘rescue’ poor little you if you protect him? Don’t you get that he’s just using you for his pleasure and nothing more?”

“He’s not!” you argue, baring your fangs at her with fire in your eyes.

That’s not who Toji is.

“Don’t you talk back to me! Did you not learn your lesson after–“

“Enough!” Jinichi bellows, causing you both to flinch.

He exhales heavily after a moment. “Come here,” he orders.

You don’t move, not yet at least as you stare up to him with a fearful look. Obeying his command will only send you further into the demon’s maw.

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

You swallow again, your throat devoid of any moisture that’s been sapped. The urge to run intensifies again as you shuffle closer, even if it’s a futile effort. You stop, but it isn’t enough yet for his liking, so he urges you even closer with a two-finger motion until you’re within arm’s reach.

Slap!

The force sends your face down against the tatami with an audible thud that sends your head spinning. He then grabs a chunk of your hair, lifting you painfully back up while at the same time drawing his face closer. You cry out in pain, but he and everyone else in the room ignores your plead for mercy.

“We’ll get the information we need from you one way or another,” he warns, releasing you from his hold only to send you flying backwards with a sharp kick to your stomach area, knocking the wind straight out of your lungs.

Your screams are silenced from whatever bones just snapped in your body. You lay there on the ground, clutching yourself, feeling a pain worse than anything you’ve felt before in your life.

Botan’s laugh echoes throughout the room like that of a hyena, cackling away at your misery. “Oh, how I’m going to enjoy this,” she says with a sadistic intent.

As you lay nearly lifeless atop the frigid, stone tile, you stare up through the bars of your window at the only thing you have to keep you company ─ the moon. Even then, she’s barely visible, hidden away behind a curtain of black. It’s like the moon or the stars can’t bear to see you in your current state.

Jinichi had dragged you through the halls and passed other courtesans in a cruel display of power. You were the perfect opportunity to make a point of what happens to those who cross the leadership of their country, or more specifically, the Zenin Clan.

From Hanami’s request, you were thrown into one of the many basement rooms that hold more of a resemblance to a prison cell than anything. The walls and floor are made of stone, with iron bars to contain those deemed defilers. This must be where Shion was once held during the many months of her pregnancy.

Another cage within a cage… how ironic.

Jinichi abused you for some time after, demanding information you don’t even have for his own selfish desire to end Toji’s life. He didn’t stop when you were beaten and bruised, nor when your body gave out as black spots filled your vision until nothing remained.

Hanami was there when you first woke up after, feeling especially sore and dirty ─ no doubt used for acts you weren’t even fully aware were happening as you were unconscious. But that wasn’t the end of your torture.

“I had hopes you’d grown into a functional tool, but it appears you need to be reshaped,” Hanami muses, staring down at you with a mixture of anger and disappointment. “Don’t get yourself caught up in feelings, you’re nothing more than a hole to be filled. Remember that.”

It hurt, unimaginably so, even making you forget about the pain of your broken ribs for a short time. None of it however could possibly compare to the words Botan spoke in passing only a few days after.

That day, she had chosen to be the one to bring you your meal ─ a tray with some scraps and rotting fruit, topped off with some of her fresh spit as seasoning. She held it just out of reach from you, as far as the chain around your ankle would allow you to move from the wall.

“You want to know how I found out about your little secret?” she laughs in a wicked tune. “You have daddy dearest to thank for that one,” Botan reveals, tearing a piece from your heart.

“After you took Toji from me, I decided to take something from you…” She sneers, mocking your distressed expression. “It wasn’t hard since he owes his debt to me, but I’m glad I managed to convince that old hag to let him back in here for my plan.”

The contents of the tray spill out across the dirty floor as Botan thrusts it towards you, taking her leave with a trail of shrill laughter in her wake. You pay no mind to the state of the food ─ too hungry to care, too tired to fight.

This is your fate.

If you had any tears left to spare, you might break down further into this abyss. In the end, your father betrayed you again, only this time by playing with your feelings for his advantage.

What a fool you were to believe he was changing, not when the only person he ever truly cared about is dead and gone. Why else would he have been absent from so much of your life?

This is all his fault.

But loving him was your fault for thinking the blood you share made it any different.

Curse him.

It wasn’t only moments from your life; it was your whole family’s as well. Perhaps that’s why Akane couldn’t bear to be born, or why your mother fell ill in the time after. Was his absence the true reason she declined? Did he truly love her or was that also some fa��ade?

Curse him.

You hate that in the depths of your darkness, these whispering voices sound like music to your ears. They’re all you have right now and the only thing making you feel even the slightest bit better. Does it make you a bad person for wanting to listen more?

In your weakest moment, it’s all you can do.

“Curse you, Daisuke,” you weakly mumble to whatever shadow is listening.

You’re no father of mine any longer.

Toji was right to hold worries over the man’s sudden return, and you regret not paying it more mind. Although, now you understand Toji more than you would like to admit. It’s a wonder how Toji is even related to Jinichi, let alone the rest of his fucked-up family.

But maybe that’s okay.

Family is what you make of it after all. It’s where your heart and soul come together to make a loving bond that transcends all else. You don’t need blood relation to share that with someone. You just need the right person to trust with that piece of you. To trust with you.

“Are you falling in love?” The aster’s words from before ring in your head.

“Yes, Shion,” you declare with the stars as your witness this time, rather than the darkness. “I am in love with him.”

A cawing sound pulls you back from your reverie. Outside your puny clerestory now in place of the night sky is a piebald crow, hopping along the dirt. You force yourself to sit up, clenching your jaw tightly together as sharp pain shoots up the side of your body in agonizing bursts.

The crow has something with it that it uses its beak to push between the bars until it falls onto your bedroll. A tangerine. You glance back up to the bird as it almost appears to be examining you before taking flight, leaving you alone once more.

With shaky hands, you peel away the skin of the fruit. Juices overflow with each bite that seem to replenish the tears in your eyes that had long since dried up. Between each bite of the ambrosial treat, you wipe your cheeks dry using the torn sleeves of your tarnished marigold robes.

A common theme you feel ─ to have something you deem perfect become stained and anything but.

You manage the strength to stand up fully again, this time on two legs, clutching your side with one arm. From the tips of your toes, you look out into what little of the world you can see for the first time in what’s felt like weeks but has merely been days.

In the distance, there’s a warm, glowing light bouncing off the clouds that rest low on the skies, moving quickly across.

Dawn? No…

You’ve witnessed the light of dawn enough in your time with Toji to paint a clear picture in all its possible colors in your sleep.

This is different.

What you see growing ever closer to you isn’t the sun’s golden hues, nor is the smell that hits your nose that of dewdrops and freshly bloomed flowers.

No, what rages on in the distance is disastrous in nature with only one clear desire ─ to devour everything in its path.

A true calamity.

Fire.

☆ Notes: “wow, what a crazy turn of events with a cliffhanger to top it all off! I can’t wait to read what happens next!” I mutter to myself, staring at the blinking cursor of an empty word document.

Fr though, this was a little intense to write since I kept having all kinds of different ideas and trying to figure out how I wanted certain scenes to play out, but things are happening!!! I’m super excited for the next chapter but you guys miiight kill me depending on what I decide to do with certain things :’)

☆ Taglist: @fandomtrash5092 @catmania-choco

#toji fushiguro #jjk #jjk toji #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #jjk au #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #courtesan!reader #ronin!toji

47 notes · View notes

jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka · 5 months ago

Text

Sorry this took me a while to update again, but I am pretty happy with how this one turned out. Without further ado, part 5!

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner **slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!! Minors not for you! Adult content including: insecurity, some body image issues, going through difficult feelings, very light smut including: flirty touches, kissing and more kissing, dad Jake AU, uncle Danny AU

Word count: 6k

**Quick message after the cut

[A/n: I’d just like to preface this chapter by saying that men should always feel validated if struggling with self and body image issues. I do not believe or suggest that Jake should feel any sort of way about his beautiful, beautiful body. The feelings referred to in this chapter are that of basically an OC and their purpose is not to shame anyone but instead to focus on how difficult it can be to take care of yourself and be a parent. That being said, the remainder of this story will not focus on this insecurity. Quick shout out to Trust Me, Darling for all of the complicated emotions untangled there]

Jake tried to keep his focus at Wednesday afternoon’s practice, but when his roaming eyes flicked over to the bleachers and he saw a now familiar form sitting there, he couldn’t help but let a smile warm his face.

“Come on girls! One more time and then your parents should be here to pick you up!” Jake shouted at the youngins running across the field with their soccer balls. Some of them were more entertained by running with their friends, some preferred to kick the grass rather than the ball, but a few of the girls were actually starting to really get the hang of it. It felt good to watch them successfully get the ball from point A to the goal, even if they weren’t quite ready to advance to scoring and blocking yet.

He waited until everyone except Emma had been picked up, trying to ignore his bubbling excitement as Danny approached from behind.

“Are we walking you home today little miss Emma?” Jake asked, taking the whole ignoring Danny a step further.

“No, my uncle is here to get me” she replied matter-of-factly, making Jake chuckle as he finally turned to face him.

“I don’t know, I think maybe we should make sure you guys get home safe” Jake continued, gathering his backpack after shoving all the balls back into the sports bag.

“You still don’t trust me?” Danny asked, faking sounding hurt as he scooped the bag up from underneath Jake’s hand and tossed it over his shoulder, silently offering to carry it just like he had the first time they’d met. Only this time Jake willingly let him.

“Actually, I’m glad you don’t mind walking with us because I have a favor to ask you” Danny continued as they started off as a group down the neighborhood.

“A favor?” Jake raised his brows. Since when had they gotten on those terms? He didn’t know, and honestly didn’t care, but he was curious to see what Danny wanted from him.

“Friend of Rudy’s came by the shop yesterday. We got to talking and he told me he had this old acoustic he was looking at selling. Says it needs some TLC, but he cut me a good deal since I worked at the shop” Danny spoke, continuously keeping his eyes ahead on the carefree girls who walked in front of them, making their stroll slower than it needed to be but much appreciated nonetheless. “My sister told me you’re quite the guitar expert, was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me get it back in good condition?”

“Your sister flatters me” Jake replied, wondering once again how often he was the subject of their conversation. “What are we talking? Change of strings? Tuning? I can do small body repairs but to keep the integrity I might have to refer you to someone else for any major work”.

“I’ve got it at the house if you want to come take a look? Promised Emma I'd take her to a bookstore so yesterday we killed two birds with one stone. She got her books and I got my guitar”.

Jake scratched his chin and nodded his head “I suppose I can do that”. Danny didn’t know it yet, but in Jake terms agreeing to do a favor like this meant he would actually put his whole heart into the project. He wasn’t too busy at work for the time being, so besides practice he should have plenty of time to work on it for him.

“I wasn’t sure if I would see you today” Jake continued, looking down at his feet and kicking a pebble over to the kids who giggled and started kicking it down the sidewalk on their own.

“I know, I said I’d be patient, but I got excited when I picked up the guitar. Left work early today so I could offer to pick Emma up” Danny revealed, his own shy smile gracing his lips as he spared one look in Jake’s direction.

“You could have just called me. Who knows I might’ve been able to talk you out of buying it if it’s a piece of junk”.

Danny chuckled, making a mental note that Jake was basically giving him the green light to reach out to him whenever he wanted.

“Can I show Luna my new books?” Emma asked Jake once they reached their front porch.

“Sure, but Luna we’re not staying long. We still have to go home and eat dinner before bed time”.

“Ok Daddy!” The kids took off first down the hallway, disappearing into Emma’s room while Danny led Jake further.

“You okay?” Danny asked when he sensed Jake’s sudden trepidation.

“Yeah, I’ve just never been back this far before” he replied, quickening his pace to catch up. Jake had never had a reason to visit the guest bedroom before, but now here he was following Danny through the door.

For some reason he’d expected to see something different inside; posters across the wall, maybe a messy bed, something that fit the image of the rouge younger brother Danny put off. Instead it looked like any typical guest bedroom, plain walls, a muted blue duvet spread neatly across the queen size mattress that Jake couldn’t help but wonder how much room Danny’s form took up on it at night.

His eyes continued to scan across the room, settling on a small stack of books laying in a neat pile next to a crumpled up pack of cigarettes on top of the dresser to the right. Jake turned to ask Danny about his reading habits, but his words hung in his mouth when he saw Danny to the left. The closet door was open and he stood with his back to Jake as he peeled his shirt off and tossed it into the basket inside.

“Sorry!” He quickly turned back around, trying to hide the blush that crept across his face after just that one look. Danny was slim that you could easily tell, but shirtless you see just how brawny he really was, especially in his shoulders and arms.

“Sorry, didn’t have a chance to change after work, was dying to get out of that dirty shirt. Am I making you uncomfortable?” Danny asked, genuine concern in his voice like he hadn’t even considered the idea that Jake would get flustered if he quickly changed.

“No, I just-” Jake’s voice trailed off, too embarrassed to admit that he liked what he’d seen a little too much, but glanced over again anyways. He was relieved to see Danny had a new shirt on, albeit it was barely a shirt with the sleeves cut off and the arm holes torn open to the point it barely clung to his chest anymore.

“Is that it?” He pointed over to the black guitar shaped case he saw sitting in the corner of that side of the room, purposely changing the subject so he wouldn’t have to continue his train of thought.

“Umm, yeah” Danny moved to collect it off the floor and placed the case gently on the bed so he could open it up and give Jake a peek. “It’s nothing fancy, but I’m hoping with a little fixing up she’ll sing”.

“No, this is a nice model”. Jake picked up the instrument, feeling the familiar weight in his hands and examining the body. It was in good shape, few scratches on the back, but no cracks or warping. “Oh yeah, this will be easy”.

“Great! So how much will I owe you?”

Jake laid the guitar back into the case and secured the latches on the sides. “Don’t worry about it, but I do expect this to make us even” he turned to joking to mask how nervous he really was as he grabbed the handle and let the case come to rest down by his side.

“Oh, right, we’re good” Danny chuckled as he rubbed the back of his arm. Actually he’d much prefer to continue to have a way to persuade Jake to hang out, but since he’d seemed a lot more willing recently maybe he didn’t need much of a reason anynore. That was a comforting thought, hopefully it meant he was doing something right.

“When do you want it done by? I should have everything I need at home so I could probably have it ready by the weekend…” Jake trailed off, hoping Danny remembered their previous agreement to see each other this weekend.

“No rush, but this weekend sounds good. I cleared my calendar” Danny replied, dropping the hint that he only had one big plan, and that was spending as much time as Jake as he’d allow him.

“Ok, well I will see you then?” He started to excuse himself, but just before he could turn back towards the door Danny called out to him.

“Wait! One more thing”.

A steady hand came to rest on Jake’s waist, tugging him back as another hand cupped his jaw and pulled him into an unexpected kiss. It took a bit for Jake’s mind to catch up and compute what was happening, but moments later his lips were softening and he was allowing himself to kiss Danny back.

“Is this okay?” Danny questioned, not pulling away just yet but wanting to check in and make sure Jake didn’t want to punch him in the face right now.

“Yeah,” Jake’s breath came out hot against his lips, his tongue darting out to lick at them and bring Jake’s taste further into his mouth, “yeah this is okay”.

“Good” Danny’s lips pulled into a relieved smile next, “because I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time”.

Jake let his free hand that wasn’t still gripping onto the guitar case for dear life reach around to the back of Danny’s head and guided him down until they were connecting again, Jake sighing into the kiss this time. “Me too”.

When Jake got home he felt like he was in a daze the rest of the evening. Thankfully school and practice had tired Luna out quite a bit, so after dinner and some reading time she fell asleep right in Jake’s arms on the couch and he carried her off to bed.

Normally he’d be more than ready to lay down and relax until his own tiredness caught up to him and pulled him into sleep, but he fidgeted around in the bathroom for a while after his shower trying to keep his mind occupied with anything other than Danny.

With his nails trimmed, face cleanly shaven, a random gray hair he’d never noticed before plucked straight from the top of his scalp, and even some facial moisturizer on, he finally gave in and crawled into bed.

Of course the first thing on his mind was how it felt to kiss Danny for the first time. He’d been so nervous for no reason. It felt warm, and comforting, and his lips still tingled from the memory as he grazed his fingertips over their sensitive nerve endings.

It was good, nothing earth shattering but that was more than okay, because good meant he could feel again, and his feelings were coming crashing down onto him like a heavy weight settling onto his chest. Just as vivid as the kiss, he remembered that glance at Danny shirtless. Attraction was there, clearly after Monday night’s activity Jake couldn’t deny anymore that he was into Danny. Insecurity crept in between the cracks in his thoughts though, cracks that had formed over the years of being alone and growing older.

Jake had never been the overly confident type. He knew he was good looking of course, but he couldn’t help but pick out little things he could improve on and compared himself to others- especially when he practically had a carbon copy walking around that he grew more and more different from day by day.

The way his hair frizzed when he broke into a sweat, the slant in his septum he’d finally gotten fixed last year after years of being annoyed by it, the shuffle of his feet when he was tired and didn’t realize he wasn’t picking them up. They were all hardly significant things others didn’t seem to notice or care about, but Jake scolded himself anyways. And now, having seen Danny’s near perfect form, he found himself comparing again.

Would Danny have the same awestruck reaction when seeing him shirtless for the first time? Or would he be disappointed?

Jake forced the thoughts out of his head and turned onto his side, wrapping his arms around his heavy chest and squeezing his eyes shut. It was just his inner subconscious working against himself. He had to fight those feelings because he knew they were wrong and would only hold him back. He was done holding back. This was his chance to relearn to love again, and in being loved, return to loving himself once more.

“Bad news Jakey, all the flights are canceled. Well maybe not all, but ours for sure” Josh’s voice spoke over the cell phone speaker since both of Jake’s hands were a little busy with restringing Danny’s guitar when he called.

“Oh shit, what are you guys going to do?” Jake replied, trying to split his focus. “They can’t get you on another flight?”

“Yeah they can… tomorrow” Josh chuckled defeatedly. Jake could tell he was frustrated, but also what are you really supposed to do in situations like these. “It’s just a shame we already checked out of the resort. I wouldn’t mind staying in Palm Springs another night if we hadn’t”.

“Yeah, yeah, very romantic engagement getaway. We get it” Jake teased back, just trying to keep the mood light. “So you’re coming home tomorrow then?”

“Late tomorrow night. They told us we could show up to the airport and try to leave early but I don’t want to take anyone else’s chances away. We’re not in any hurry. I don't have to be back at work until Monday anyways”.

Jake hummed his understanding, eyebrows pinching at the center as he concentrated on pushing a particularly stubborn bridge pin out.

“Anyways, I was calling to see how my Lun-bug is doing? Is she excited for summer?”

“She’s excited, though I don’t think she realizes how boring it will be to stay home with dad almost every day for two months. She says she just wants to stay up late and sleep in”. It was easy for Jake to talk about his daughter to Josh, both of his brothers really were great uncles, but Josh did tend to go above and beyond to vie for her affection.

“Seems she’s got her priorities straight!” Josh wholeheartedly laughed. “Oh to be five with no cares in the world”.

“Umm, five and three quarters” Jake corrected him the same way Luna corrected everyone else, causing his brother to laugh again.

“Well, that’s the update. I know how badly you were dying to take us out to congratulate us, but unfortunately we will be late to the party” Josh sighed once the amusement wore off.

“I was not planning on taking you out” Jake scoffed, shaking his head at Josh’s presumptuous premise. “I’m busy this weekend” he let slip, knowing now Josh wouldn't actually be planning to hang up soon anymore.

“Busy?” Josh’s voice raised in pitch, obviously asking for more details.

“Danny and I are… hanging out”. It felt weird to phrase it that way, but neither of them had discussed any specific plans other than wanting to see each other, and now that Josh was going to be almost two days delayed in coming home he knew he couldn’t ask him to watch Luna. Not that he needed a babysitter, right?

Danny was exceptionally good with the kids, at least from all he’d seen, but it wouldn’t be much of a date with Luna tagging along. He certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable testing any waters while she was around just yet. Though she was familiar with Danny already, growing up all she ever knew was her Dad so to suddenly bring someone else into their life, Jake certainly wasn’t ready for that big a step.

“So this Danny guy has stuck around? You haven’t kicked him to the curb yet?”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m an asshole” Jake grumbled. Just because he hadn't been trying as hard to find someone as Josh thought he should’ve been, didn’t mean he hadn’t been trying at all.

“But you are kind of an asshole” Josh replied, waiting for the rebuttal that never came.

“Yeah, you’re kind of right” Jake set the guitar down on the table he’d been working at and rubbed his eyes with hard pressure in his fingertips until he saw colorful blotches dancing around. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I think I really like him”.

“Well then don’t” Josh offered his bit of advice, “fight for it Jake. Don’t let the rest of the world get in the way. You deserve this”.

Jake let his brother's words sink in, it was nothing he didn’t already know, but hearing it from his most trusted other half made it finally start to stick. He inhaled a grounding breath and reopened his eyes. “I’m happy for you Josh. You deserve it too”.

“Thanks Jakey” he replied softly, some slight strain in his voice now. “Okay, I’m gonna hang up now before I start getting emotional. Since when did we become such sappy sentimentals?”

“Speak for yourself” Jake huffed a strained laugh of his own, knowing full well Josh could sense his torrent of emotions stirring just under the surface. “I’ll let you go now, got to figure out what to cook for dinner soon”.

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later, and I want to meet your new friend soon! You can’t keep mystery guy all to yourself forever”.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that”. Jake picked up his phone and hit the red end call button before Josh could pester him any further.

He was right though, Danny was a bit of a mystery. Maybe that’s why he was becoming more drawn in each time he saw him. Introducing Danny to his brothers would have to come eventually, but for now he needed more time alone with this enigmatic man to figure out what it was about him that was breaking Jake out of his shell.

“Luna! What do you want for dinner?” Jake called as he made his way through the living room and into the kitchen. His brain was too preoccupied to put together a whole meal, so instead he let the toddler pick which meant they ended up eating grilled chicken, peas, and macaroni- could’ve been worse.

Both of their plates were cleared and Jake let Luna stand on a stool at the sink to help wash the dishes, glad she was still young enough to find dunking the pans and plates in soapy water entertaining as he scrubbed and dried.

After her bedtime story Jake got Luna settled down for the night and went back to work on the guitar for a bit longer before calling it and getting ready for bed himself. Tomorrow was Friday, which meant all he had to do was make it through one more day of work and the weekend would be here.

Friday turned out to be a terrible day. Everything that could possibly go wrong seemed to be hitting one right after another. First there were problems with tax forms which were annoying and tedious to fix, but needed to be done immediately. Then Jake had to step in and take over for the festival planning since that team in charge of that was terribly behind. They had quite a few artists at a local festival agree to donate a portion of their profits to the foundation, in exchange they were in charge of having a booth at the festival.

Jake hated festival planning. There were always so many working parts and extra people to manage, strict schedules to adhere to, and extra hours of work associated with all of that, so he usually handed them off to others. At the end of the day though, he was still responsible for ensuring everything involving the midwest branch was running smoothly, which is why he was a little bit peeved that they had waited until Friday to ask for his help.

“Alright, start sending out those memos. Attach the schedule and band list. Monday morning I expect a recap of response” Jake finished up with his final instruction as he packed his work laptop in his weekend bag. After hours of combing through everything with the team he was just about drained, but everyone seemed a lot more confident in what their role was in getting things back on track.

It was already a quarter after six when he loaded his things into the car and headed home. His phone rang, and he hit the answer call button from the screen on his dash just as he pulled up to a red light. “Hey! I am on my way now. Thank you so much for picking Luna up for me”. Jake answered the call, having text Emma’s parents asking if they could pick both the girls up from school since he had to stay late.

“No worries, I was actually calling to tell you Luna wanted to know if she could sleep over”. Emma’s mom replied.

Jake thought about it for a moment. Luna had never stayed anywhere overnight without him, but he knew she did well sleeping regardless of where they were so he wasn’t too worried about it.

“I really don’t mind. Those two keep themselves pretty entertained, and we ordered pizza when we got home so she’s already eaten” she continued, hoping to ease Jake’s mind.

“Okay, let me just run home and pack her a bag real quick and I’ll run it over?”

“Sounds good!”

As soon as he got home Jake dropped his laptop bag off on the kitchen table and headed into Launa’s room. He filled a backpack with pajamas, two changes of clothes just in case, her bear bear since he knew she wouldn’t go to bed without it, and grabbed an extra blanket from her stash just in case.

“Hi Daddy!” Luna exclaimed when he showed up to see her for a moment and make sure she still actually wanted to stay the night. “Want to come see our tent!”

“Tent?” Jake glanced over at Emma’s mom for clarification since the darkening clouds outside signaled it was going to rain soon. In fact there was a weather advisory out for flash floods this evening.

“It’s in Emma’s room” she chuckled, noticing his slight panic.

“Alright” he let Luna take his hand and drag him towards the room, rambling excitedly the whole way. “We had pizza for dinner but I gave Emma’s dad my ‘ronis cause I don’t like em”.

“Well I’m sure he appreciated that” he replied, centering his focus on her instead of letting his eyes wander further down the hallway.

In the middle of the room there was a princess tent large enough that the tiny toddler mattress from the bed fit perfectly inside. It was already packed with lots of stuffed animals, but Jake went ahead and unzipped Launa’s backpack to reveal her favorite.

“Bear bear!” She squealed, snatching it from his hands and crawling into the tent to place him perfectly in the middle.

Just like that Emma came running into her room and joined Luna in the tent, the two of them getting right back into playing whatever they had been before Jake arrived.

“See, I told you they’re fine” Emma’s mom backed out of the doorway so Jake could slip out. Before he could stop himself he glanced over to the room at the very end of the hallway, seeing the door closed. “Danny hasn’t been home yet today” she continued, cocking her eyebrow when Jake looked back at her pretending to be confused about why she was mentioning it. “I’ll tell him you stopped by” she offered as they made their way back towards the front of the house.

“Oh don’t worry about it. I have his number” Jake replied, suddenly feeling awkward about having looked for him. “Let me know if anything happens or if you need anything”.

“Go home, get some rest. I’ll take good care of her”.

Jake smiled and nodded, he believed her, Luna was in good hands. Now all that mattered was that he had the house entirely to himself for once in quite a while.

Once back at home, Jake heated up some leftovers but after just a few bites he decided he wasn’t hungry. He tidied up the kitchen since there was a little mess from this morning, taking the opportunity to thoroughly wipe down his coffee machine and organize all his mugs in the cabinet.

Afterwards he started a load of laundry, walking around the house and picking up stay articles of clothing Luna had left behind and tossing everything in the washer.

Only an hour had passed but the storm clouds outside made it look like night had already arrived. He debated getting his laptop out and checking emails, but after the day he’d had at work literally anything else sounded more appealing than that. He could have gone to bed early, gotten caught up on some much needed sleep, but a nagging feeling kept him from relaxing.

Eventually he ended up just sitting at the table in his office, staring at his phone laying there silent, not a single text or notification, debating if he should make this call or not. Deciding he was being ridiculous, he picked up the phone and found the contact, bringing the speaker to his ear as it rang a few times.

“Jake?” Danny finally answered, surprised to see his name come up across the screen.

“Are you busy?” Jake asked, trying to sound nonchalant when he knew Danny wasn’t just at home.

“No, just had to get out of there for a while” he answered, his voice trailing off as if there was something the matter.

Jake wanted to press it, but he bit back his worry and instead got to the reason why he’d called. “Your sister is watching the girls tonight. Did you…” Jake was fidgeting, shifting his weight in his chair uncomfortably, “did you want to come over?”

Danny’s voice softened at the offer, a slight taunt building behind his words, “you want me to come over?”

He was excited, but his question in return was also giving Jake the opportunity to truly consider what he was proposing. He was home alone, and he was inviting Danny, he had to know what that meant right? Danny hoped so, because he already knew he wouldn’t be able to behave.

“I mean, if you want to then yeah”.

“Okay, I’m on my way right now”.

Wherever Danny had gone off to, it must not have been far because within 10 minutes he was texting Jake back.

Come outside

8:12PM

Jake grabbed a light jacket since a strong breeze was starting to blow through bringing the storm nearer, and made his way to the front door. He stopped for a split second to peer out of the tall narrow windows on either side of the mahogany to see Danny in his driveway leaning against his motorcycle. He was in his usual faded black jeans and his pair of worn in chucks, but instead of just a t-shirt he wore a black hoodie and his mess of curls were hidden underneath a snapback hat turned backwards on his head. He looked soft, like Jake could just run into his embrace and everything else around them would melt away.

“I see you got this thing running” Jake kept himself pulled together as he closed the front door and hit the lock button. For a brief second he looked around the neighborhood, no one was outside. He was being anxious for no reason.

“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Danny asked, pushing off to grab Jake by the waist and plant a swift kiss to his cheek before letting him go again. “It clears the mind”.

“Maybe just this once?”

Though he actually agreed, Jake hesitated as he tried to figure out how this was going to work. A wide smile spread across Danny’s face, like he secretly knew Jake was more enthralled with the motorcycle than he let on, then grabbed the handles and swung his leg around. He started the bike up again, its newly refurbished engine purring to life as he twisted at the waist to pat the tiny spot on the seat behind him. “Where to?”

“Anywhere” Jake replied, stretching onto the tip of his toes in his boots to grab onto Danny’s shoulders and climb onto the back. “Just get me out of here”.

They took off slowly down the street, picking up speed gradually but never going too fast. Jake moved his hands from Danny’s shoulders to his waist, trying to figure out where to grip so that he felt secure until one of Danny’s hands came around and tugged on his arm, making Jake slide closer against his back. He wrapped his arms around Danny’s midsection, feeling the warmth from his body across his chest and the heat emanating from the engine down his calves.

Just as they made it a few blocks over, the rain started. First in a tiny sprinkling Jake could barely feel prickling against his cheeks, then it came down in a steady drizzle, dampening his hair that whipped wildly behind him.

Jake wrapped his hands around his forearms that still encircled Danny, closed his eyes, and leaned back so that he could feel the wind and the rain on his face.

Before long they were slowing down again and Jake lifted his head, reopening his eyes to look through the blur of rain that had collected on his lashes seeing that they were crossing the old highway at the fringe of the suburb. Once they made it across, Danny pulled into a small dilapidated lot where cars used to pull over for a break from driving and used the muscle in his leg to put the kickstand in place.

He waited for Jake to dismount first, who stood there as the rain really started to pour, confused about why they’d stopped here of all places. “We’re almost there, just up that hill”.

Danny turned the bike off and stuffed the key in his front pocket before he grabbed Jake’s hand and took off up the narrow concrete path that led to an overgrown rest stop, complete with a covered stone picnic table. Under the oning and out of the rain, Danny stepped onto the bench and took a seat on the crumbling table, looking out over the empty highway and the soaked landscape.

Jake joined him on the table, quietly listening to the thunder rumbling in the distance and the sound of rushing water as the rain ran off the top of the shelter and started to pool on the ground in front of them.

“Our parents used to take my sister and I up here for lunch in the summer” Danny began, his eyes distant as if he were seeing through the wet and the dark and into the past where it was still warm and sunny. “They live right up that highway, just about two miles. So close, but I haven’t even been to see them since moving over here”.

“Why not?” Jake asked, turning his attention away from the downpour and to the man next to him who sat as still and rigid as the concrete structure beneath them. He looked like a statue that belonged in an art exhibition the way he had his elbows propped up on his knees and he slouched over deep in thought.

Something seemed different about Danny today. He wasn’t this spirited young rebel Jake had grown accustomed to, but instead he was darkened, troubled. Jake only found this new side of Danny intriguing though, a deeper layer he was exposing of himself. Jake felt like this was a part of Danny he could relate to, and it made his blooming affection towards him only grow exponentially.

Danny sighed and sat up for a moment to pull his hat off and shake off the droplets that clung to the fabric before raking his fingers through his curls and slipping the hat back in place. “Don’t know, guess I’m scared to”.

Jake bit his lip, not having the knowledge of what their relationship was, but still able to sympathize with him nonetheless. He felt the same way about his in-laws most of the time. He knew it was absurd, but his mind had made up this delusion that they thought he wasn’t good enough. That he’d never been good enough for their daughter, for the job they’d given him, and as a Dad to Luna. It was a hard feeling to live with.

“It’s just I’ve spent the last six years trying to run from them, from the perfect person they want me to be. My sister, she gets it, she’s everything they always envisioned for her. College, good job, married to a man who supports their family, she’s always so put together and perfect… I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t force myself to conform to those standards, so after only a year of college I took off and I haven’t been back since. At least not until now”.

Danny poured his overflowing emotions out, just like the seemingly never ending rain surrounding them, and Jake sat and listened.

“I did a lot of stupid things. Got into some sketchy shit. Got some tattoos, piercings, whatever. I dress the way I want now and I’m happy with how I turned out, but I don’t know if they will accept this me”.

For a moment they sat there without speaking again until Jake figured out what he wanted to say. He reached his hand over and closed his palm around one of Danny’s, the simplest of touches but one that Danny had given him before.

“There is nothing about you they shouldn’t love. Even so, if you’re happy then I’m sure they will eventually come to understand. You should find the time to go see them, I bet they miss you”.

Danny cracked a small heartless half smile, but he turned his hand over in Jake’s grasp and threaded their fingers together. It felt good to get that off his chest, the life slowly returning to his eyes as he looked over and met Jake’s captivating gaze.

His hair was sopping wet, and it clung to his neck in chocolatey tendrils. With his free hand, Danny reached over and ran his fingers through his strands, amazed at the way they slid through without any tangles. Jake closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, allowing Danny comb through his hair over and over again, each time feeling the way his fingers brushed against his scalp.

Unable to take it any longer, Danny leaned in and captured Jake’s cold lips with his own. Jake sucked in a breath, but soon he eagerly returned the kiss, loosening his jaw and slotting their mouths together as it quickly deepened. He squeezed Danny’s hand in his own, trying to ask for more, but instead Danny slightly pulled away.

“It’s a good thing it’s raining so hard, otherwise I’d think you could hear how hard my heart is pounding right now”.

Jake’s eyes widened at the confession, his own pulse starting to quicken when Danny brought his hand up and pressed Jake’s palm firmly against his chest. “Here. Feel it?”

It would’ve been nearly impossible to feel the thumping of the muscle through the thick fabric of his hoodie, except Jake was so tuned into him that he did actually believe he felt it. A soft thump thump thump against his rib cage beating in time to the tempo of the rain droplets above them.

“Danny” Jake mumbled, barely registering his small hmm? in response. “Kiss me again”.

Danny didn’t need to be asked twice, he quickly closed the gap between them once more, reaching around Jake’s smaller form and pressing his hand against the small of his back to get him even closer. A shiver broke through, running up Jake’s spine and he felt his limbs going numb.

“Are you cold?” Danny asked without removing his lips from Jake’s. He didn’t get a reply though, only a stubborn press of his mouth harder against him. “Want to go back? To your place?”

Jake finally relented, the idea of getting him somewhere dry, and not wide out in the open, more appealing than continuing their make out session here.

“Please?” He replied, unintentionally giving puppy dog eyes so wide that Danny smiled for real this time and gave him one last peck before they ran back out into the rain together.

Tags: @sanguinebats @kultavalo @lipstickitty @gracev0609 @lyndz2names

#greta van fic #Greta van angst #greta van fleet #janny gvf #Jake Kiszka #Danny Wagner #gvf

20 notes · View notes

blues824 · 2 years ago

Note

💐How about the dorm leaders the female douma s/o.

🌈What is their opinion on her beautiful rainbow eyes.

💐How would they react when they find out she is hurt during a overbolt and healing in a few sec.

🌈What if they find out about her cult and that she eats the male members to" free them " and came to a agreement with the headmaster to ether go family friendly mode or her being allowed to drink blood that was donated.

💐(their are enough simps in school that where willing to give it or it could be animal )

🌈she also explains that she could never eat them even if she wanted because they make her feel emotions for the first time.

💐Imagen them getting a hold on her iconic gold fans and how would they react to holding it.

🌈How would they react to her doing that because she forgot something

🌹🦁🐙🌞👑🎮🐉

I did not have any idea where to take this, so I strictly stuck to the request. Slightly suggestive?

Riddle Rosehearts

Your eyes entranced him, and it made him still himself. You might as well have called yourself Medusa with how your eyes just turned him into a stone statue. Your soft giggle made his heart soar to heights he hadn’t even heard of.

When he overblotted, he tried his hardest not to hurt you. However, you just let out a maniacal laugh and threw yourself in front of the attack and blocked it for Ace and Deuce. Once Riddle drew back to assess the damage, he saw you sitting up and the bruises were healing almost immediately.

In the infirmary after he was defeated, you told him everything. About how you were a demon and you had a cult back home. You explained that Crowley knew about this and allowed you to attend NRC on the condition that you only consumed blood from willing donors. Riddle offered you his wrist, and your eyes went wide in shock.

You flat-out refused, worrying that you might lose control. You told him that he was the first person to ever make you feel true happiness, and you couldn’t lose him. He was both flattered and concerned, because without blood you could die. He trusted you more than you know.

The first time he experienced the true power of your golden fans, you had used them on Ace. You see, he was truly troublesome, so you used your fans to generate a huge gust of wind to send him flying in another direction. Riddle inspected the fans, and he couldn’t call you out on it because they were technically ordinary, traditional fans.

Leona Kingscholar

“Don’t you just love a woman who could actually just kill you?” -Leona, 2023. Your physical appearance was something he didn’t really care about; you were strong and confident, and that’s what made him fall for you. He loved your eyes because they always looked for a challenge that you could face.

When he overblotted, he had noticed the first glance of excitement that you gave him. You were the one who received all his attacks, and you just regenerated quickly before landing attacks of your own. You didn’t have your fans on you, but you were just fine because of your extensive martial arts knowledge.

You stayed by his side as he recovered in the infirmary. In fact, he woke up to you telling stories to his young nephew. It was an endearing scene that made his heart feel warm. Once you noticed your beloved lion’s eyes were open, you let Cheka say hi before ushering him out of the room because you knew Leona had questions that were best for a child not to hear. You told him everything: being a demon, having a cult, all of it.

Leona suggested you go on animal blood, and you agreed. You couldn’t say that you were very excited to do it, but your boyfriend promised to be there with you every step. He would keep you on track just so you wouldn’t hurt anybody.

The first time he experienced how well you were able to utilize your fans was when the ADeuce duo were about to start some trouble again. You moved swiftly and you landed a cut on Ace as a warning to not start shit again. Leona couldn’t have been more proud of you finally putting an end to their shenanigans.

Azul Ashengrotto

When you both first met each other’s gaze, Azul forgot what he was originally doing. He got lost in your eyes. When the Tweels noticed, they had one hell of a time teasing their boss. The next time he looked up, you were gone.

When he overblotted, you were the first to rush at him. You were very fast for being underwater, and so he was caught off-guard. He had to admit that you were so graceful, and he could tell that you calculated every single movement you made. When he did manage to land a hit, you were able to quickly recover and attack with even more force.

You were by his side when he woke up. You dabbed at his forehead with a cold cloth as you talked to him. You revealed everything about yourself: the cult, the “freeing” of the men that followed you, the fact that you were a demon, everything. When you told him that you needed to consume blood to survive, he offered his neck to you.

You shook your head, refusing him. There was no way you would be able to control yourself if you even indulge yourself a little. Azul had to suck it up and stand up, place his hands at the back of your head, and gently guide your face into the crook of his neck. He knew you had starved yourself up to that point, and he didn’t want you to die either.

The first time he experienced your fans was when Floyd decided to sneak up on you and give you a squeeze. Azul was about to scold the eel when you whipped out one of your golden fans and cut Floyd on the cheek. You had no emotion on your face, you didn’t even apologize. Both of them were very concerned.

Kalim Al-Asim

He absolutely adores your eyes. They are more beautiful than any treasure his family had ever owned, and more beautiful than any tapestry that money could ever fathom of buying. No, they told their own story, one that you didn’t allow them to tell.

When Jamil overblotted, Kalim noticed how you blocked his Vice Housewarden’s attack that was originally meant for him. He thought you were seriously injured, but nope. The hole that was punched through your stomach started healing itself.

Once the battle was over, your boyfriend asked what the heck happened. You told him that you were a demon, and you even went off on a tangent about your cult and how your followers would sacrifice themselves to ‘be freed from this world’. When you told him about the fact that you needed blood to survive, he asked if you would want some of his blood.

You most definitely refused, jokingly saying that Ace would be a better candidate. However, he was not joking. He grabbed your hand and placed his own (palm up) into it. You hang your head in defeat and puncture the skin on his wrist. You couldn’t have been more glad to know that he wasn’t a Marechi.

He first experienced the strength in your fans when the entire dorm was dying of heat strokes (not really, but you know what I mean). You used your fans to create a gust of wind that immediately cooled everyone down, including him. Everyone was grateful for you that day.

Vil Schoenheit

He is jealous of your eyes before he learns your history. How he wishes he could have eyes like yours. He also admires them. Usually, you would be able to tell someone’s emotions from their eyes, but no one could read you. Not even him.

When he overblotted, you had no emotion on your face. You just attacked and defended, cold and calculated as you always were in battle. Vil did manage to hit you, but it was just your leg that he tore off. You used your remaining leg to push off the ground so that you launched yourself in the air.

When he was taken to the infirmary, you were there by his side. You helped the nurse in making sure he was okay. When he did wake up, you threw your arms around him in relief. However, he pushed you off and asked how you regenerated your freaking leg. You let out a sigh of remorse. You let everything out: how you were turned into a demon, you had a cult, you even killed and ate men from that cult because you could only survive off of blood and flesh.

He considered his next course of action. Usually, he would prefer a vegan diet, but yours was a special situation. He would suggest an animal-based diet to try and recreate the feeling of consuming a human. I don’t think he gets queasy by it, since he’s had to see things like this in films that he has starred in.

Now, about your fans, he finds them absolutely beautiful. He tries to make you some, but you refuse. He is offended, but you show him why. You use your blood demon art and blow Rook out of the tree he was in with the gust of wind you created. Now your lovely boyfriend understands.

Idia Shroud

I think you know what I’m about to say, but you remind him of one of the demons from ‘Help! Rip-off Michael Jackson turned my sister into a demon and now I’m trying to find a cure for her!’ Your eyes even matched, and it was freaking him out.

When he overblotted, you knew that you probably met your match. He was as smart as you, but with his armor he was a lot slower. You did a lot of damage before he landed a hit. The Idia within him felt horrible, but then you regenerated your arm.

You stayed by his side when he was taken to the infirmary. You were in a chair next to him when he woke up. The memories of the fight came flooding in, and he scooted as far away from you as possible. You realized that you owed him an explanation. You told him your origin story, the cult and how you would “free” the members from this harsh and cruel world, and the fact that the mountain of dead bodies you left behind was taller than the entire student body put together.

Your stomach started to rumble, and you had a scared look on your face. He asked why you looked terrified and you admitted that you had starved yourself because you could only eat flesh and you didn’t want to hurt anyone. Idia took a deep breath, held your face in his hands, and put it into the crook of his neck. You punctured his skin, and drank. He had to admit that it felt painful in a good way.

The first time he experienced you using your fans, it was when Ace decided to start some shit again. He saw you through the tablet that Ortho accompanied around NRC, and he thought you were absolutely beautiful. You didn’t harm the first year student, you just created a gust of wind that blew him in another direction.

Malleus Draconia

He thought your eyes were more beautiful than any star in the night sky. He could stare into them for hours. Every single time he sees you, he always makes sure to look you in the eyes, because you always have love gleaming in them.

When Leona overblotted, the love that was always with you was gone. You were cold and brutal, attacking the lion just so he is only gravely injured but not dead. When he did manage to land an attack, Malleus screamed your name once he saw the hole through your stomach, but you just got up and continued to fight.

After the Housewarden of Savanaclaw was defeated, the Housewarden of Diasomnia went to check on you. The joy you felt whenever you saw your Prince was back, but dimmed when he started asking you the long-expected-but-despised questions. You gave him the answers he wanted. He was not shocked to hear the cult following you had (mans would’ve joined if he were in your world).

You got to the point where you told him what a demon’s diet consisted of. You stated that you had been starving yourself to the brink of insanity. That’s when Malleus gently took off his glove on his left hand and held his wrist out to you. You could smell it: he was a Marechi. You refused it, but he insisted. He let out a hiss of pain before curiously watching you as you feasted on his blood.

We all know that Sebek can be annoying (99% of the time), but what the Prince of Briar Valley didn’t expect was you using some big golden fans to blow his knight away. He just kinda got thrown away by a gust of wind. It was hilarious, but he had to hold back his laughter.

930 notes · View notes

neoncrowpen · 3 years ago

Note

Imagine Joe Goldberg scares the reader (who works with him at Mooney's) when she is about to go into the basement and he stops her. Idk if I want her to be locked in the box. I wouldn't have an issue if she was but I wouldn't want her to be angry I'd rather her be nonconfrontational and quiet. Idk I didn't think much of this through lol

A flurry of emotions rattled your bones. Heartbreak was the first. This seller dropped the books on your counter with a frustrated eyeroll. He explained that his uncle had passed these ‘useless’ books down to him and that he expected more of a real ‘inheritance’. You looked at the rare copies of beloved children’s stories, Anne of Green Gables, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and three Dickens books you were sure only existed in old libraries, not in some New York bookstore.

Whoever the seller’s uncle was, you hoped he passed away with some peace. He would be rolling in his grave if he found out how little his nephew cared for his inheritance. You bought the books, of course, for Mooney’s without Joe’s permission. You figured asking for forgiveness later would be acceptable in this circumstance.

Your fingers ran over the books, taking in their condition. After looking them up, you realized how much these copies were really worth. Your Anne was worth well-over ten thousand and the Dickens could pay your rent for the month.

Your phone slipped in and out of your hands in a panic. Joe needed to know what you had. You got it for a fucking bargain, too.

Your fingers flew wild across your screen: Come quick!!! You won’t believe what I just did. Rare copies of children’s books. Holy shit!! You snapped a picture of the stack and sent it his way. Your heart swung against your chest to see the immediate texting bubbles from him. Either, you were fucked or you did really, really good.

Joe writes back: How much did you sell them for? You know you’re not allowed to do that unless I’m there. I’m on the way.

Your shoulders slumped. So much for any recognition. You looked over the pile of books as they slowly turned into a significantly high dollar amount instead of paper and words. You couldn’t just let them sit there. You eyed Ethan who swept the floor to the beat of whatever he listened to with his headphones. He wasn’t too far away. He could watch the counter while you transported the books to the basement.

Scooping up the children’s books, your shoes creaked across the old wood floor. Pride took over your senses. Surely, you wouldn’t be in that much trouble. You bought this stack of books for five hundred when they were worth so much more. Besides, you saved these books. They were better off in your (and Joe’s) hands than anyone else in this goddamned city.

You stopped in front of the basement door. A single hand reached out towards the handle, but before you could turn it, a low growl rose the hairs on your neck.

“Don’t.” Joe said. His eyes set into you making all confidence disappear from your head. You gulped. Shifting your stance, your hand quickly went back to cradling the pile of books.

“I—

“What did I say?” He glared you down.

“But—

“I told you two things. One, don’t buy rare books from anyone without me here,” Joe placed a firm hand on the basement door, completely closing the space between you. The only thing blocking him was the books and the inch of air he allowed to stay between you. “And two, don’t go into the basement.”

“I’m sorry.” You averted your eyes from his. You felt Joe pull the strings of your puppet body tighter.

“How much did you spend?” He asked.

“Five hundred,” you mumbled out. He took the books from you, looking them over. He unlocked the basement door, letting you follow him down the stairs. His silence overwhelmed you enough. You started one of your infamous ramblings. “Before you yell at me, just listen. The seller’s uncle passed them down to him. They must be from a private collection or something. I looked it up and those Dickens are worth my rent, Joe. All of them are worth thousands.”

The bright lights of the sealed bookcase stung your vision. Your mouth kept running as you followed Joe into the box. He handed you each book one at a time to shelve it inside the box.

“I don’t know. If he hadn’t sold them to us, think about what would’ve happened to them. He would’ve thrown these away if I didn’t. So, if you really think about it, I did a good thing, right? I mean, did you see this one? It’s so well-loved that the binding falling apart and—Joe, what are you doing?”

You didn’t pay close enough attention to see him close the door on you. He pulled out the key, leaving you locked inside. His averted eyes returned back to you when you called out his name again.

“Joe?”

“I told you to follow instructions, and lately, you can’t seem to even do that,” Joe said. “You need to learn your lesson, Y/N.” Your mouth hung open in shock. Dread seeped into your legs as Joe’s puppet strings lowered you to the ground. Joe’s hands found a comfortable home in his pockets. Your mouth ran dry of words. This couldn’t be happening.

“Joe?”

“If you’re good, I’ll talk to you when I close up,” he said, turning back and going up the stairs. “I’m going to keep the lights on. I know you’re afraid of the dark.”

#joe goldberg #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg/reader #joe goldberg/you #joe goldberg imagine #imagine joe goldberg #you #imagine you #you imagine #penn badgley

375 notes · View notes

rudemaidenswrite · 3 years ago

Text

Don't Belong Here

Part 2

Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

By:@pusantheamazonian

Part 1

Tag list: @athenaricham-loves-orcs @pandainfinitely

Two months and counting. You're still texting Ronnie. Honestly it's his persistence and you sending memes at all hours of the night is what kept this going. Cause truth be told you would've flaked out by now and ghosted him. Flirting is not your strong suit. It never has been and will never be.

Quickly sending Ronnie a SpongeBob meme. You make sure your phone is on silent like always and toss it on your desk. Time to get the work day started, freezing in the basement.

It's a steady night so far. Only two new bodies today; almost done with testing on one and one is ready to go home.

"Y/N, Officer Crawford says O23B's wife is here to identify him." Manny hangs up the phone as he swivels towards you. His desk to the left of yours. Since he was adamant that he be on your left so you could hear and that he's closest to the door. In case of emergencies, his words, not yours but you know it's so that he can block any undesirables trying to get inside. But the orc is the best big brother and assistant you could ask for. So you let him get away with whatever.

"Okay. Help me pull him out then you can go get them." Jumping off your stool you head towards the freezer. Pulling open the massive door with two hands.

"Of all the things you can do, you can't push a gurney by yourself." Teasing, he pulls the gurney out without your help, Moving it to the center of the room.

"Oh hush." Shoo-ing him out the door. You fold the sheet down making sure everything is ready for the identification. Poor man, the orc came in with three gunshot wounds to the chest. Dead on arrival.

"This way ma'am." Manny's voice travels as he opens the door. "This is Dr. Y/L/N. She is the one in charge down here."

“Hello.” You give her a small smile and gesture behind you. “When you're ready.”

Stepping to the side you wait. You know it's her husband, you could tell as soon as she walked through the door. Besides, Manny did that little secret ear twitch confirming the smells.

Slowly approaching, you watch her fight against her emotions. "Y-Yes that's my husband." She nods quickly.

"Does he have any allergies or health conditions?" You gently question there's no need to upset her further.

"No." Shaking her head. "D-do you mind if I have a minute?"

"Go ahead."

Nodding at the door, Manny and you step outside. Quietly waiting for her to come back out. You can hear whispers in broken sobs coming through the door. Like always you give Manny a look, after all these years this part is still uncomfortable. He gives you the look right back.

After a long five minutes the door opens.

"Thank you." Trying to hold her dignity together. "You must find it strange. Me talking to him like…" She trails off threatening to cry again.

"No, I talk to them all the time." Shaking your head you try to reassure her that it's perfectly normal. She gives you a weak smile.

"I'll show you out." Gesturing to the elevator, you let Manny slip back inside to put him away.

In the ride up, you explain the various things that are going to happen next. That you will contact her when her husband is ready for transport. If she wants you can call and set up transport with whichever funeral home or place she wants him sent.

"Do you have a ride home?" Slightly concerned you hope she does. You don’t want the poor woman to get in a wreck because she is an emotional train wreck.

"Yes, a family friend." Nodding she reaches for a tissue.

"Y/N?" Floored he almost didn't recognize you. Your scent was the only confirmation. You look so different with glass on, plain pale green scrubs with a matching jacket. Your hair is up with no earrings in and you don’t smell like you. Smelt more like chemicals and death. A familiar voice calling your name comes out of nowhere.

"Ronnie?" Surprised you never thought that you would see him here. Hell you haven't even told him what your job exactly is. He moves to stand beside the wife.

"You two know each other?" She quickly questions.

"Yeah, this is Sprinkles." Teasing, he gives you a smile.

"This is Sprinkles? You're Sprinkles?"

"Yes?" You are so confused.

"Ronnie told me about you!" Excitedly she points at you.

"Really?" You didn’t expect him to tell anyone about you. Maybe the odd question here and there from the other Fogteeth if he had heard from you.

"Dr. Y/L/N, there's a phone call for you." Manny's voice catches your attention. He’s holding the security door open.

"You'll have to excuse me. I'll be in touch."

Politely smiling, you excuse yourself quickly disappearing behind the locked door.

Staring at the door he never expected this to be your job. When you said orc coworkers he expected a factory not the fucking city morgue.

Arms crossed and hoovering, Manny's waiting for the second you hang up the phone.

"What was that?"

"That just turned awkward. That's the guy I've been messaging. Who is apparently a friend of our new guy. And he told them about me. So the wife was excited? To know that I was the one he had told them about." Shrugging you don't know how to explain it. You write yourself a reminder about the phone call.

"Well he must have been preparing to gradually introduce you to them." Nodding in agreement with himself he sits down.

"What?" Swiveling towards him, is everyone trying to confuse you today?

"How long has it been since you two started talking?"

"Two months. Manny, what does that have to do with anything."

"Y/N, you're human. No matter what you've been through or done. You're still human." He gives you the cold hard truth.

"Well that just put a damper on the day." Frowning, you go back to your note.

"It's the truth."

Walking to your car you're ready for sleep. The shift seemed to drag on forever and you're dreading the drive home. You should have just hitched a ride last night.

"Y/N."

"Ronnie?" Surprised you didn't expect to see him so soon. Besides, how did he get into the parking garage? It's a security gated parking garage. "I'm sorry for what happened to your friend." Offering your condolences you push those thoughts aside as he gets closer.

"You work for the city morgue? Why didn't you say anything? What the hell happened to my friend?" Closing in he starts assaulting you with multiple questions. It’s hard to tell which one he really wants the answer to.

"I can't." It’s the first thing that slips out.

"What?" Grumbling he doesn’t like your answer.

"I can't tell you because I don't know! I haven't gotten the results back from the ballistics team or the lab. Besides legally I can't say anything yet." Now is the time to start panicking. None of this feels right. You start backing away.

Huffing he grabs your wrist pulling you close. "What kind of gun?"

Shit. Shouldn't have said ballistics.

"What are you-" Jerking in his grip you try to back up but he yanks you forwards so you crash into him.

"What kind of gun?" Growling he uses his size against you.

"9 mm Luger semi auto pistol. Probably 5"-5.5" barrel. If I had to guess." Scared you ramble everything off quickly.

In a moment of clarity your scared face is burned into his brain. What is he doing?

"Y/N!" Manny yells.

Turning to look, Manny is running towards you. Ronnie let's go and you stumble backwards. Almost fall to the ground if Manny didn’t catch you. Frightened and so confused you can only watch as he runs away. Rubbing your arm you can already see the bruise forming.

"You okay?" Asking, Manny hoists you up.

"Yeah."

"Y/N." Hands cupping your face, he forces you to focus only on him.

"I didn't expect…" Blanking out you don’t know what’s real right now.

"Come on. Let's get it checked out." Manny steers you back inside as you try holding it together.

Arriving at work is difficult. You can feel the anger and disappointment from everyone in the basement that knows what's going on. Frankly you're disappointed in yourself to think he might have actually liked you. Because now it seems he was just biding his time for when your job could be useful to him.

"I know. So don't say anything." Sighing, you put your bag down. Ignoring Manny and Tog. As well as your two regular janitors who just happen to be cleaning the room. They all give you disappointing looks. Especially Tog the old worry wort. But you can't blame him, the old orc treats you like a child anyways. You already got an ear full from him this morning.

"Y/N." Tog says standing beside you once everyone has left.

"I know I know. He's bad news. I never expected to actually see him in person again."

"He's already attached to you." Folding his arms, he’s got the disappointed father stare down.

"What?" You seriously did not just hear him say that.

"Sometimes there's a connection so strong it lingers as a smell under everything else. The fear, the pain, the sadness."

"Tog." Glaring, you hope he stops speaking but he continues. You don’t want to hear anything more about Ronnie right now or ever at this rate.

"As you would say true love at first sight. It's wafting off you."

"Mmmm. I don't think so." You give him a skeptical look.

"But this. This is unacceptable." He points at the bruise.

"Dr. Y/LN, I have another one." Officer Crawford chimes pushing in a body bag. You both watch him visibly pause as he reads the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I’m just gonna leave this right here.” He cautiously backs out the door.

The texting between you and Ronnie has completely stopped. The last thing was the SpongeBob meme you sent and that was days ago. Manny has sort of taken over security detail. For the time being as someone has to walk you to your car or the bus stop every morning. The boys have even timed it so that they're waiting when you arrive.

You quickly message Ryan. You desperately need best friend time. Only the insanity of your gay boyfriend will help.

"Thanks for meeting me." Sitting down, Ryan has already snagged a booth.

"Anything for you Y/N. Besides, my next client isn't for a few hours." Smiling mischievously. You know he’s prepared for all the drama.

After ordering he starts the millions of questions.

"So what's going on girl?"

"Men. Well people in general." Sighing you scrunch down in the booth.

"Men are stupid. We have been over this. So what have they done now?" Waving his hand, that's old news.

"You don't want to know." Frustrated, this can not be your life.

"Y/N."

"Ryan."

"Come on, spill the tea. I'm not afraid to ask Charlie or your parents."

"It was going okay I guess, we met at one of those parties Charlie and Olivia go to. We've been talking but the other day one of his friends ended up on my slab. Obviously he now knows what I do for a living. That I'm a fucking Medical Examiner, which I've never told him what I do. So in this whole revelation he demanded, well aggressively suggested I give him certain information. Panicking, I gave my opinion of murder weapon and we haven't spoken since." Avoiding his stare you start picking at the linoleum on the table.

"What. The. Fuck?" He only pauses to take a breath. "Wait wait wait. He's not human is he? Cause if he was human you would have kicked his ass."

"No." Mumbling, Ryan should know better. You've never had a thing for humans.

"It better not be an elf. I swear to Satan himself. I will jump over this table if you say it's an elf."

"Orc."

"Have you tried talking to him?" Exasperated, he's not believing this.

"No."

"So you've gone ghost."

"He hasn't said anything either." Whining you kick his foot.

"How does Tog feel about this?"

"Ugh don't even get me started. He's upset about it but keeps going on about true love wafting off of me. Now Manny's pissed cause he found out it was a newbie that let him in." Sighing, you sit back up.

"I take it that it's been handled?"

"Oh Manny definitely handled it. Besides, everyone on the floor is giving him shit about it. I'm surprised he hasn't come up missing yet."

"They should, you just can't just let anyone in. And he's a newbie that's a major strike. You're like the Queen of the basement." He exaggerates the queen part.

"No I'm not."

"Are too and you know it. You yelled at the Magic FBI people."

"Excuse me for treating everyone like normal people. You know the basement is my territory and I won't allow someone to come in there bad mouthing my minions."

"And that's why you're the Queen." Laughing he slaps the table as the food arrives.

"Whatever, how's married life going?"

"Lord, I'm almost ready to become a widow. If I trip over his shoes one more goddamn time. You're going to have to bail me out."

"Is he still leaving them in the middle of the hall?" Laughing, you forget all your problems. You want to stay in this moment forever. You don’t want our life to become a soap opera.

He's surprised. He came in to pick up food and saw you in a booth with another guy. He couldn't help but to eavesdrop on your conversation. With your back to the door you haven't noticed him. You're gossiping about some actor.

Out of the corner of his eye he notices something strange. You reached out for your drink and there's discoloration to your skin wrapping around your wrist. A nasty color of red and purple.

That's the wrist he grabbed.

He did that.

A nauseous feeling boils inside as his stomach drops. He overstepped the line again. First demanding the information after you told him no. Scaring you. Ghosting you. Now the bruise that he left in wake of his anger. He's an asshole and you deserve better.

*Bang Bang Bang*

"Y/N. Please open up."

Jumping in surprise. Why is Ronnie at your apartment? Hoping he just goes away, you ignore the exaggerated knocks. While hiding underneath a blanket on the couch.

*Bang Bang Bang*

"Y/N I just want to talk."

You have to come to the door. How else is he going to apologize to you?

*Bang Bang Bang*

"I know you're in there. I can smell you."

Aggravated you just might commit murder. Stupid orc and their stupid sense of smell.

"What?" Glaring you rip the door open.

"That bruise." He immediately points to your wrist as if that's the only thing that matters.

"What do you want?" Pulling the sleeve of your hoodie down and folding your arms.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted in the parking garage."

"How do you know where I live?" You bypass his weak apology.

"I followed you home." Shrugging, to him it seems obvious how.

"Of course you did. Typical." Yup, like every stereotypical man who doesn't know how to process feelings or use a phone. He stalks you.

"Can we start over and forget about what I did?" Ronnie pleads.

"Why should I?" You've been through too much shit already to be with a guy that's an asshole and douche. "I'm used to irate family members and friends wanting information. But I didn't expect it from you. You would have never gotten that close if my guard was up. Which is why the boys always insist that someone walks with me." Cutting him down to size is the only way to make it clear that he fucked up. Because if he thinks a simple apology and begging will work, he's wrong. "And the bruise, where do you think it came from?"

You hear the neighbor's door across the hall open. "Is everything -?"

"Mind your own business Randy!" Shouting, you don't break eye contact. You wait for the door to close before continuing. "I can chalk it up to bad timing and raised emotions but my coworkers are pissed. Frankly I am too."

"I'm sorry." With all sincerity he can muster he apologizes again. He'll keep apologizing until you believe him.

"I'll give you a trial run."

"A trial run?" Confused, he's not a game.

"One week to change my mind that you're not some asshole. Because apologies don't matter if you don't stop the behavior you're apologizing about."

"Okay." Nodding he has to make it up to you.

"If you haven't noticed there's a lot that we don't know about each other." Staying firm in your decision you don't lose eye contact. You have to state your dominance in this agreement.

"Right." Shifting his weight he leans on the door frame. "You're a doctor?"

"A medical examiner but yes I have a Doctor's License."

"So yes?"

Rolling your eyes it's hard not to smile. This man is so stupid. Stupid and obviously your fucking type. You wanted a himbo and now you got one. The fucking soap opera of your life. It's what you get when you wish for Jethro Bodine mixed with a cryptid.

"Yes."

#Orc x Human #orc x reader #orc boyfriend #bright fandom #bright #fogteeth #OC Fogteeth Orc #reader insert #reader #fluff #misunderstandings #angst #the drama #oc character #chunky bois #working with the dead #rudemaidenswrite #fanfiction #fanfic

222 notes · View notes

blzzrdstryr · 3 years ago

Text

Not a usual post, because I am too burnt out for anything but barely cohesive ramble at this point, but I just had an idea of genshin yanderes reacting to a self-negligent reader, the one who fails at meeting their own needs because of work, health issues or depression. Maybe you skip your meals, because there are more pressing matters, maybe you haven’t had a decent sleep in weeks or maybe you just feel so hollow and crushed you can’t find any strength and motivation to get up and brush your teeth, let alone clean your house and cook some food.

There are different types of yanderes and their reaction will vary, but I can kind of see several categories you could sort them into.

Jean, Diluc, Ganyu, Amber: Gets really concerned for the reader, which intensifies already present yandere tendencies. Will look after the reader.

I just see those characters taking some kind of “caregiver” role: they are happy just tending to and helping you get through your daily routine, be it brushing hair or putting on clothes. They will cook and they will clean and they will try to be as nice as they can while doing so, even if it comes off as stiff and awkward. They kind of see their worth in relation to you as how much of “use” they are, and helping you in such a vulnerable state definitely raises this value by a couple of levels. They might feel entitled to your attention and contact if they have successfully helped you through the “episode”.

Kaeya, Keqing, Ningguang, Xiao: Gets irritated with reader, might force them to look after themself.

Now these characters are less likely to assume the “caretaker” role once they face you in this miserable state for a variety of reasons. Kaeya and Ningguang perceive you as their property, and putting your health and well-being at risk will not sit well with them. They will force you to complete your daily routines, even if it means they have to get rougher with you. Xiao and Keqing on the other hand are too inexperienced and clumsy in interpersonal relationships and might see your apathy towards yourself as the sign of laziness.

Rosaria, Lisa, Beidou, Albedo, Zhongli: Miscellaneous reactions

I titled it like that because I didn’t know how to group their reactions, so I will just briefly describe them.

Rosaria and Albedo know what happens with you, Rosaria because she feels like that sometimes and Albedo has stumbled on texts with symptoms similar to yours. Both will try to help you, but their attempts will come off as awkward and hesitant, because they don’t know how to approach this issue. Albedo will look into the texts with your condition and Rosaria will offer you to do things she does when she feels familiar hollowness.

Beidou is also concerned, she also doesn't know how to help you, but she will be ten times less hesitant, because action is always better than inaction, right? Will try to prep you up, might shake you a bit while doing so.

Lisa is also aware that your self-neglect may be caused by other issues and unlike Albedo she possesses enough social skills to gently help you by talking with you and identifying the root of your issues. She will appear calm and relaxed on the outside, but her entire being will be tense from the knowledge that she can potentially worsen your issues.

Zhongli definitely saw something similar to your problem in his long, long life and he knows several treatments for that. He will try talking to you first, getting to know what caused this. Zhongli may have been described as the block-head with an emotional range of the rock by the certain anemo archon, he still possesses some persuasion skills, which may or may not help you. If his initial plan fails he will gently “relocate” you into his serenitea pot - his own plane of dimension, stripped from the most danger sources, is the best way to ensure your safety. Will probably order a local teapot spirit to look after you when he can’t.

593 notes · View notes

lol-im-done · 4 years ago

Text

The Avenger & Baron of Sokovia

Thank you so much to @sagyunaro for coming up with this idea! I wrote too much to fit into a one shot so I’m splitting this into two parts!

Part One:

Part Two:

You can find this on my A03 as well: Anti_Social_Teen

Word Count: 2,818

What happened that horrible day in Sokovia affected you more than any other mission you had been on in your time with the Avengers. You had seen death, had seen destruction, narrowly avoided it every second of your life but as you lay on the ground of Novi Grad that day, trying so hard to keep the chunk of Sokovia close to the ground with your telekinetic abilities it became too much. You vividly remembered placing yourself close to the middle of the rising piece of Earth that Ultron was going to use like an atomic bomb to wipe out billions of innocent lives.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, running over to you.

“I’m going to try and put it back down!” you replied, standing your ground. Wanda had come over with her brother Pietro, watching you with interest.

“Isn’t that what FRIDAY explained to us. The higher it goes the bigger the blast radius,” you said. Steve nodded, worry filling his face but you gave him a brave smile. Closing your eyes in concentration, your hands filled with dark green energy, tendrils beginning to snake down into the ground as it continued to rise. “I got this! Go!” you instructed them. It had felt like hours, you had never pushed yourself to these limits before and couldn't stop yourself from falling to your knees before you knew it your body collapsed completely but you persisted, your whole body and the area around you glowing green. Vaguely you could hear the others try to reach you but you shook your head silently, tears streaming down your face in pain and frustration, blood seeping out of your nose as you remained glued to the ground.

The guilt of your weakness spread like a poison in your body, you weren't strong enough and by the end it didn't help when Novi Grad fell. They had told you that you had kept it at half the height it was supposed to be at, that your telekinetic energy had kept most of the big debris from falling but you ignored their voices of reason. It was Thor who had found you floating in the sea, passed out but cocooned by your powers. Numbness engulfed your body the instant you had awakened and you watched silently for the next few days as decisions were made on how the cleanup and relief would proceed. The answer became clear to you for what you needed to do next.

“You don’t have to stay,” Steve murmured, placing his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner.

“Who will I be if I don’t,” you replied sadly. Steve could see how much this meant to you, so he gave you a warm strong hug before walking off to the Quinjet to return to the Compound leaving you in Sokovia. The terms of your stay were strictly humanitarian, to help cleanup the destruction, your identity kept a secret. Only around official Stark Relief Foundation workers did you use your telekinetic powers in the worst part of the devastation. With a solemn look in your eyes you waved your hands, slowly lifting chunks of peoples homes, their belongings falling into the ash and rubble. After a few hours of this you would walk around, picking up trinkets, photos, anything you could recover. You’d return to your small apartment Tony had gotten you, and cleaned them as best you could with your kit of brushes before returning them to the main headquarters where refugees and survivors could seek help. It was only supposed to be a week but you stayed longer. It was mainly your guilt that kept you tied to Sokovia but soon you felt yourself growing connected to the suffering country. It was another day at the Stark Relief Foundation building, you were slowly picking up Sokovian, Wanda had even facetimed you for a few hours each night trying to teach you some phrases. It was mostly silent, somber in this wing of the building where survivors would arrive, where recovered bodies were documented. Slowly your eyes caught sight of a distraught man a few feet away.

“He just found his family in the rubble,” Lana murmured to you, eyes glancing at the man who sat a few chairs away. She brought out a clipboard but you took it gently from her hands.

“I got this,” you replied and she gave you a grateful smile before walking off. With a sigh you walked over to the man, who was covered in dust.

“Hi. Ahoj,” your soft voice broke through the wall of silence the man had created around himself. It took him a few seconds to lift his head finally and the look of heartbreak on his face made a lump form in your throat.

“My name is (Y/N). I’m a volunteer and I’m going to help you fill out some forms,” you said, taking a seat next to him. “English or Sokovian?” you asked. “English is fine,” he finally spoke, coughing to clear his throat. Giving him a sympathetic look, you passed him a handkerchief from your pocket which he took gratefully.

“I know this is a difficult time but I’m here to help with whatever you need. We will help you find shelter, get food and financial assistance and help with the death certificates of your family,” you explained. The way you spoke to him was unusual, straightforward but kind. It was the custom to speak formally almost coldly to strangers, but there was a softness in your eyes. “So what is your name?” you asked.

“Zemo. Helmut Zemo,” he replied. Giving him a small smile you brought out your pen and got to work. In the next few days you came to realize that Helmut Zemo was not just any ordinary citizen, he was a Baron. Even as Sokovia continued to crumble at the institutional level, Helmut played an active part in donating funds to the local organizations. He became a familiar face, always an active presence during the day and after a few weeks of working together you could comfortably call him a friend. You still didn’t reveal your true identity, there was a growing sentiment from some in Sokovia against the Avengers but overall most people were grateful you all had saved the world. You still struggled with guilt of course but things were becoming easier. Spending time with Helmut was peaceful, he would often read aloud to you when you spent time at each other's apartments after a long day of work. Even with his wealth he chose a modest apartment a few blocks from yours. Things always remained strictly friendly, both of you keeping conversations light and rarely bringing up your origins or past life. It became a comfort to listen to his Sokovian accent, look into those captivating brown eyes. Helmut often felt the start of a warm feeling in his chest when he heard your airy laugh after his terrible jokes but he forced himself to suppress the feeling. Just when you thought it would be a good idea to open up to him, to begin to reveal your true identity that was all shattered the moment you entered his apartment one evening.

It was dark, only the crackling fire from the fireplace providing a light source. He stood back turned to you, hunched over the fire a glass of whiskey clenched in his hand.

“Helmut?” you whispered, closing the door softly behind you so as to not startle him.

“You’re an Avenger,” Helmut whispered, and when he turned around you saw something in his eyes you had never seen before. Anger and hatred, it was amplified by the reflection of flames in his eyes.

“Who told you?” you asked, trying to stay calm but your heart pounded beneath your shirt.

“I heard the Stark Relief Foundation workers talking about you. How Stark was coming to visit you soon,” he sneered. “Is it true?” Helmut asked. Wordlessly you lifted your hand twisting it summoning your telekinetic energy. That was all he needed, he began shaking his head a dark laugh coming from his mouth. “What is this then? Why are you here?” Zemo snapped, pacing close to the fireplace.

“I stayed to help,” you began but he threw his glass against the wall, shattering the glass cup. It stunned you, making you jump in place.

“Help,” he said coldly.

“Helmut please let me explain-,” you tried to say, your voice wavering with emotion.

“No! You played a part in it! You’re the reason why my family is dead!” Helmut screamed. Those last words hit you like a slap in the face, face falling as your heart seemed to crack right down the middle. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and before you knew it all the guilt and shame and memories hit you like a ton of bricks. There was no use in trying to say something, when you opened your mouth no words came out. Helmut made no attempt to move towards you, no attempt to take back his words as you turned away and stumbled out of the door. Heavy sobs began to slip out of your mouth, as memories flashed in your head, the screams of the innocent civilians, the bodies of the dead. Through tears you made your way back to your apartment, packed and left Sokovia that same night.

You didn’t return to the Compound after that, choosing to stay in Switzerland in a home that Tony owned and had let you stay in. He felt for you, as did the others on the team as much as they wanted you to return to them. This is where you stayed in solitude and when the Accords were announced you had made no attempt to be a part of the rift between Steve and Tony. You thought it was ridiculous and when you were summoned by Ross you ignored the summons and remained secluded. It wasn’t until it was all over that you were granted a loose term of conditions to keep your freedom even though you hadn’t done anything. It shocked you, when you found out what Helmut had done, the plan he orchestrated. How could the kind man from Sokovia become so full of hatred and vengeance? You knew his wife, son and father had died. You had been the one to fill out their death certificates but never could you imagine it would end like this. He was often on your mind as best as you tried to shake him off but he had made an impact on your life. It wasn’t until one sunny morning that you received an unexpected call.

“Hello?” you answered the phone as you stirred the sugar into your tea.

“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?,” the German voice asked.

“Yes. Who are you?” you asked a bit suspiciously.

“I’m Warden of the Berlin Detention Center where Helmut Zemo is being kept. He’s asked to meet with you and we would normally deny this request but seeing as you are an Avenger-,” the Warden began but you cut him off.

“I was an Avenger,” you corrected but he continued.

“It is up to you if you would like to see him. If not I can tell him his request was denied,” he finished. A strange feeling filled you, why bother seeing him? He hated you, tore your family apart in revenge. But then you thought about the hurt and pain you both faced in Sokovia.

“I’ll be there in 48 hours,” you finally said into the phone. Even after he had hung up you stayed there by the kitchen counter, tears silently flowing down your cheeks.

Following the armed guards you clutched your purse tightly, the nerves finally hitting you at what you were about to do. It felt like you were in a dream as the door slid open, revealing a dark cell with a glass wall and a chair in front of it. There was no movement from the cell as you sat down on the chair they provided you, you actively avoided Helmut’s gaze, setting your bag down. You kept your eyes trained on the piece of lint on your jeans until he finally spoke up breaking the silence, but there was tension.

“Will you not look at me (Y/N)?” that rich Sokovian voice that haunted your dreams asked.

“I didn’t think you’d want to look into the face of your family’s killer,” you said, the words sounded harsher than you intended. By the time you looked up to meet his eyes, Helmut’s face was a vision of regret.

“I should have never said those things to you,” Helmut said, coming closer to the wall that separated him from you. He looked differently from the last time you had seen him, he looked defeated. His chestnut hair was tousled, stubble beginning to grow on his jawline.

“Yet you did and never gave me a chance to explain,” you snapped crossing your arms.

“My anger was misplaced. I see that now,” Helmut began. “I saw the footage, what they had recovered. The way you tried to save Novi Grad,” Helmut said, emotion filling his voice.

“We tried to save Novi Grad,” you interrupted, even if you could see how the Avengers held responsibility, you weren’t going to allow him to slander your family. Helmut grimaced at your words. “Why did you ask me here?” you snapped, eyes hardening. Helmut inched closer to the glass, nervously running his hands through his hair.

“I’ve been contemplating what I’ve done. I realized that even if you had not been involved I hurt you and you didn’t deserve that especially after what I did to you in Sokovia,” Helmut said. Lifting your brow you allowed him to continue.“If you let me I would like to explain myself, not excuse myself. I want to tell you everything,” Helmut said. It felt like torture for Helmut, every second waiting for your response.

“Alright. I’ll listen,” you finally said, leaning back into your chair. The faintest smile filled Helmut’s face as he began his story. In the weeks and months that passed by, it became a weekly occurrence to meet him. Berlin wasn’t too far from where you resided in Switzerland, the train ride was a part of your weekly routine now. When Tony had called you, expressing his concern at your visitations you explained that this was purely rehabilitation, for both you and Helmut. He wasn’t entirely convinced but he couldn’t stop you, not even Steve when he tracked you down to talk to you.

“(Y/N),” Steve greeted, surprising you in the alleyway by your apartment. “Steve! Christ you scared me,” you snapped, holding a hand to your heart. Giving him a stern look he chuckled.

“Are you going to see Zemo?” Steve asked.

“Yes. Are you here to try and stop me?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I just want to make sure he’s not using you, manipulating you,” Steve sighed. “Don’t you trust me Steve?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“I don’t trust him,” Steve replied.

“He was in the wrong. I know that Steve but everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves, a second chance. You of all people should understand that,” you said. Steve stared down at you with those intense blue eyes but he knew you were right. Giving you a strong hug he retreated back into the shadows.

“What are you thinking of miláčik?” Helmut whispered one day as you listened to him read a book on Russian history. History was something you both enjoyed so you would bring books every week for him. Heat rose in your cheeks at the way he called you darling but you shrugged.

“How much I enjoy spending time with you. Even in this prison,” you murmured. Helmut smiled, feeling a joy he seldom felt since his family had perished.

“I wish there wasn’t this glass between us,” Helmut said, but his tone surprised you. It was almost sad, and when you met his eyes there was something new in them. This was your chance, to admit your growing feelings for Helmut. Helmut watched you lean forward, giving him a closer view of your face. It was constantly in his dreams, your eyes his new favorite color.

“Helmut I-,” you began to say, eyes full of adoration and sincerity but the words became stuck in your throat. Helmut’s confusion at your loss of words turned into horror as you slowly became dust, eyes wide with fear. The last thing he saw was your glowing green hand outstretched trying to reach him as he slammed his body against the glass, voice screaming your name until you were nothing. He was stuck in his cell of helplessness and loss, and that is how he stayed for five more years.

#helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #imagine #fatws #zemo x reader #helmut zemo imagine

783 notes · View notes

inlustrissss · 3 years ago

Note

What about a fluff one shot of L falling in love with his friend and work partner... but he has no idea how to declare his love for reader so L decides to ask for misa's help.

Also, can i get a Goth and Gender Neutral reader? 👉👈

you asked, you got it! Although I am just a little bit late, I hope you won't be mad at me for this 🥺💕 I tried my utmost best with keeping it respectfully gender neutral so I hope you like it!!! Love, Inlustris

Monitor

L Lawliet x GN! Reader

warnings: none!

summary: After solving one case after the other, in the most dangerous moment the famous detective known as L finally starts to realize what is most dear to him. Though never being involved with feelings or touchy subjects, L asks an outsider for help.

My requests are open! Submit here!

Throughout the big room no light shone through the thick curtains which had separated the working place from the window that lead to the outside world.

As the busy streets in the afternoon spring sun, came to an end, only the tired clicking and ticking could be heard. The static of the TV wired to one of the main bodies of the computers flickered and played over the loud chirping of the long-billed plovers. As the rainy days came to an end, the smell of fresh gras was almost visible, though the headquarters seemed to only know serious work.

The (H/C) haired only sighed, noticing their long friend and colleague working on a file absentmindedly. Normally, a person who didn’t know the infamous detective L, they’d always find his behavior questioning, but would never interfere- thinking the male would work that way. Though (Y/N) knew, this wasn’t his 100%, something must be on his mind.

Glancing, almost stalking him for a while, they thought the genius would notice their stares, which he usually does, but for some reason his nail biting only intensified. Having talked to Watari, L’s personal butler, both of them ad agreed on trying to remind the man to stop his habit. Even this genius is human and gets trapped by simple anxious habits.

“Ryuzaki-”, calling him with his alias during working time and while on the open, he tensed up, “Stop your nail biting.”.

Even with their soft tone escaping their rosy but now colored in a beautiful darker shade he seemed to grow more nervous. “Besides, isn’t it time for a break? I’ve noticed the past couple of hours you’re not acting like yourself.”, looking around, the noticed they were alone. “Are you okay?”, they asked in a hushed tone.

Looking around, L noticed the big, round and innocent looking (E/C) orbs, staring back into his dark irises, worry etched on their face. Their make-up and unique style fitting and contradicting to their profession as always, L rushed his thought that they’d probably make a better model than Misa-Misa. But it would be a waste to their current investigation and future cases, due to their outstanding performance as his right hand.

Inching closer to L their (E/C) eyes narrowed, squinting ever so slightly. L didn’t make any movement, not a flinch. Their eyes would notice everything, even the slightest squirm. Quickly turning around though, L shrugged “Whatever you are talking about-”, taking a hold of his sugary cup of tea, the male stood up to leave, ”You’re right, it is indeed time for a break.”, opening the door, he left the dazzled one behind: “Monitor each fottage I left please, thanks (Y/N)”

Taking a long sip out of his plain white cup filled with a half of tea and the other half of sugar, L placed down the now empty cup on to a silver tray, that mostly Watari used to transport little sandwiches for each hard working inspector and treats for the detective. Taking some time to think about the events, L let his hands slide into his pockets, though stopped mid way as he had noticed that certain ping sound coming from the elevator.

Looking up, it was the said model: Misa-Misa, with her blond hair swaysing each step she too and the extraordinary Lolita-Goth look he oh so liked on his partner. Meeting her sea blue eyes, her facial expression lit up and her friendly and happy go lucky demeanor showed: “Ryuuakiii!”, waving her hand at him while dragging the letter “i” into an annoying laughing fit, she revealed a fashion magazine in her left.

“Good afternoon, Misa.”, waving back to the blonde, though with less enthusiasm, he asked, “Were you on your way to see (Y/N)?”, mentioning the magazine in Misas hand. “Oh yes!”, holding the magalogue into view, showing proudly the front page which contained the last few shootings the model mentioned the week before her last visit, “I wanted to show them the new copy we’ve been waiting for and--”, L cut her off by raising his hand, “Sorry, you can’t see them right now, it’s still working time, Misa.”

“Aww, seriously? You probably just want them all for yourself!”, pouting, Misa just crosse3d her arms before her chest, but L remained silent, softly repeating her words to himself “All for myself?”. The blonde looked up, a curious gaze meeting the raven haired, “So you do want her all to yourself!”, giggling, the model covered up her red lips with her free hand. “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, they are a person on their own, I can’t simply restrict and own them.”

“Of course you know what I mean, you’re a genius, you should know!”, sighing, the blonde twirled a lose strand of hair between her middle and pointy finger: “Maybe all of that sugar did get to you..”,mocking the male, L just shrugged, “I don’t think so.”

But this did got him thinking: Does he truly want them all to himself? It indeed has been now quite the long time he was restless while working, not entirely there. His mind wandering off into an imaginative world or worrisome state whenever (Y/N) wouldn’t be around- no, scratch that, it didn’t matter, he quickly noticed.

Wether they’d be there or not, his mind was partly fixated on their well being. Though wasn’t it always like that? They’ve been partners for a really long time, longer than his knowledge of Naomi Misora for sure, and friends too.

He read a lot of things during his early days, a lot about solving different puzzles and games, but he could never wrap his hand around when they came.

His experimental time with how feelings would work while (Y/N) were partners were over, he saw himself to them as an equal by now, but what if- “Helloo, earth to Ryuzaki!”, waving the magazine in front of the famous detective, Misa huffed, “Man, bet you’re thinking about (Y/N) if it takes you that long to get out of your dreamy thoughts”, gifting him a look of her tongue, she mocked him again, “You should try that brain-work on finding Kira! I wanna go on a date with Light already again, he promised!”, a date?

Maybe a little trip, spending the day with his friend would make the situation a bi8t lighter- finding out about his true thoughts and feelings that hid in his clouded mind. “Can’t believe I’m saying this-”, he murmured, “But: Misa, I might or might not need your help with something.”, he bluntly responded, ignoring her witty comments., “Help? With what?”, again, her airy head. Sighing, L explained another time, “You see, you’re such an emotional person, where I’m more technical.”, shoving his hands into his pockets, in a hunched position he began to walk, motioning her to follow him into a room across the hall, “The past few days I might’ve felt a little bit under the weather and I do have my suspicion, but to be honest, even as a detective, I can’t help but not be able to solve this mystery on my own, Misa.”

Opening the door, he held it open for the young woman to step inside. “What do you mean under the weather? Are you sick?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it sick, when it’s just a feeling, I believe, and not just a condition.”, he stated, scratching his had as he continued to stay while Misa took the opportunity to relax her legs and sit down on to a couch. “Wait, was I maybe right when I said you might have a thing for (Y/N)?”, noticing how L had perked up by hearing their name, Misas sea blue eyes seemed to sparkle a few shades lighter, already rosy cheeks deepening. “Awww~ Ryuzaki, really?”, she cooed at the usually emotionless acting detective.

Like previously mentioned, he’s also just a human.

“For a long time now, I want to find out about these thoughts that were kept in the back of my head.”, especially now the most dangerous case since Beyond Birthday, everyday might as well be the last day that he would glance at their beautiful eyes, and their wonderful perfume reaching his nose. “I’m just not sure how”

Eyes softening along with her features, Misas excitement toned down and switched with a warm smile, noticing how lost the male was when it came to the most basic human needs, “It’s fairly easy on finding out how you feel about them, Ryuzaki.”

“If it would be that easy, I wonder why I can’t put my finger on it”, lifting his thumb to his mouth he began biting down on his nail, eyes following the trail of the skyline, visible due to the opened window.

Standing up and entrusting her weight back to her feet, Misas smile never wavered, “Why don’t you just ask them out?”

Dark eyes wandering back to the model, he raised a brow: “I work with them every day, I see (Y/N) every day.”

“I don’t mean as a colleague or as a friend, Ryuzaki. I’m sure they’ll say yes regardless and besides, spending a day with (Y/N) will give you surely an idea if not a start of your thesis on how to feel about them!”, looking up at the taller male with a determined look, Misa Amane was more than sure: “And if the firt time won’t be enough, the ask them out again and again and again, until you got your answer.”, making her way to the door, she stepped out. “It’s not too late and not too cold to go yet.”, winking to the male she laughed one last time

“Take them out-”, she waved, “There is this pretty nice café down the block! I’ll come around another time!”, with that, she had left.

Thinking over the blondes words, she must be right. Besides, some time off shouldn’t hurt, it never does. Slow steps were heard as L Lawliet made his way towards the ain investiation room, where he had left (Y/N) to continue his work, so none of the progress was lost.

Not forgetting any manners, he knocked, signaling that someone would come in and not startle them. “Oh, you’re back.”, their angelic like voice greeted the male. “Yeah, though it’s now you’re turn for a break, it’s time to wrap things up.”

Swallowing his build up lumb which seemed to sit tight above his adams apple, he stood straight, expression not changing: “Would you want to go out with me?”

Turning around swiftly, (H/C) hair danced around their pretty head in the process as their eyes widened and cheeks reddened.

“There is this pretty nice café down the block.”, he said.

Seeing them smile set her at ease, nodding (Y/N) only laughed, “Sure, L. Let’s go.”

Turning off the computers, (Y/N) stood up to join L’s side and walk down the hall towards the elevator. Smiling the whole way towards the Café and while being with him, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier.

Happy that Misa had come with her obnoxiously loud voice, gaining (Y/N)’s attention on the other side of the door and happy that the whole building is bugged.

No, they didn’t neglect their work- (Y/N) did monitor the fottage, though L did not necessarily mention which one.

Just like spring had brought the most wonderful flowers, a relationship blossoming would soon follow up.

#l lawliet x reader #l x reader #L Lawliet #misa amane #death note x reader #gender neutral s/o #death note L #death note #death note l x reader #L lawliet oneshot #oneshot

262 notes · View notes

rowanaelinn · 3 years ago

Text

Safe Place

rowaelin month day four : librairies @rowaelinscourt

warning: not descriptive nsfw content

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could be described as a calm male. Out of all his companions, he probably was the one with the most self-control and he thanked the Gods for it every time one of his friends said something stupid.

However, it didn’t apply when his wife was concerned. Around Aelin, Rowan’s self-control seemed to vanish. She had the ability to get him angry, to become a blushing mess or a soft idiot with just one sentence. There was no control around his mate and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

But when he woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, Rowan lost the little human part he had in himself. Rowan lost all control the moment he smelled a lingering scent of fear. Her fear.

Has she been taken again?

Has it all been a dream? Had he not got her back?

In a second, Rowan was standing, knives at the ready around his waist. He would fight to get her back if he had to. Not having Aelin by his side made him feel like all the air in the world was gone.

Rowan wanted to yell at himself for falling asleep, he should have protected her.

In all the times her Fireheart was in danger, Rowan was never there to protect her. What a poor excuse of a husband and mate he was. He still didn't know why his queen was keeping him and hadn't already thrown him out. He was useless. Completely useless.

He kept complaining because of the royal duties, kept saying he liked being a prince just fine because it didn’t bring him any mess. His only role as King Consort, mate, and husband was to protect Aelin and he had shown the world how bad he was at it. Multiple times.

She wasn’t okay, he could feel her sadness from her side of the bond. Rowan felt like a prick for being relieved at the feeling of her emotions just because it meant she was still alive and not in a damn iron coffin that blocked every chance for them to communicate.

First, he came out of the royal apartments, following Aelin’s faint scent. She had become so damn good at hiding herself with her magic, a trick Fenrys taught all of them. It was a useful skill to have, Rowan was relieved most of the time no one could track her with her scent but he wasn’t tonight. Not when he needed to see her.

Thankfully with Aelin’s condition lately, her scent was stronger which meant she couldn’t cover up all of it. He refused to imagine she had been taken away until he had searched the entire castle twice. She had to be here, somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, hoping to find her behind the counter, a plate with chocolate cake in front of her. She would look up, fork still in mouth and she would smile guiltily at him. She would apologize, saying she was always so hungry lately and he would shake it off, taking another fork and join her even if he hated cake. Just to show her she wasn’t alone.

But when he opened the door, the kitchen was empty, making Rowan’s heart clench.

Next, he went to the throne room, hoping to find her sitting on her throne, a sad smile on her face she would try to conceal with a smirk. He would ask her what she was doing here and she would tell him she needed to be alone and to feel in power, and what better than her throne to make her feel powerful? But this room was empty too, and Rowan’s heart crushed a little further.

Maybe she was in the inside cemetery, kneeling between both her parent’s graves. She would look up at him and wouldn’t try to hide her tears. She would have a smile on her face, telling him she needed to feel close to them. To be between the two of them without waking up with blood everywhere. Rowan would nod and sit behind her, letting her rest her back on his chest and he would let her cry bringing her all the comfort she needed. But she wasn’t here, and Rowan didn’t know where to look for her now.

If they were in Rifthold, he would probably think she was speaking to either Sam or Nehemia, telling both of them everything about what happened in their court since the last time she spoke to them.

But they weren’t in Adarlan so it left only one place where she could be. His walk to the library was slow, slower than he wished. He could just shift and fly instead of taking all the stairs but if she was there she would make fun of him for it, she had enough to tease him already.

When he arrived at the library, as always, he was dazzled by the splendor of the room. The last time the librarians counted, Aelin and Rowan owned three hundred thousand books and that was a decade ago, just after the construction work was finished.

Aelin had cried and laughed and smiled for hours when she first saw it, walking through all the sections to see every book, then made love to Rowan on the floor, more tenderly than they were both used to, to thank him.

As if seized by a frenzy, Rowan walked like a mad man through the library to find her. He regretted giving her something so big, having to look at every fucking row. There were so many places to hide.

After what seemed like hours, Roan saw familiar blonde hair. He let a sob come out in relief. She wasn't gone. There was no Valg Queen that had pulled her away from Rowan, no, his Fireheart was just sitting on a couch that looked very comfortable, six pillows behind her back.

"Rowan?" She asked, raising her eyes full of concern. "Is everything okay?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

Instead of answering, he rushed to her side, falling onto her lap to be on the same level as her and scanning her entire body to make sure she was okay and truly in front of him.

His eyes fell on a small scar on her right knee, a scar she had made during one of their training sessions. He remembered kissing the mark every night for weeks when he noticed it after enjoying his wife's goddess body. He hadn't noticed that she was injured during their workout and he felt terrible about it.

Aelin kept telling him he was fussing, but he knew deep down she liked it. She loved to be cherished and protected. He dropped his head to her lap, unable to fight a sob. She put her book aside, sitting straighter and one of her hands found her way in his hair. Rowan hated himself for the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, he hated himself even more for the look of agony on his mate’s face.

“Speak to me, please.” She begged him, her hand still playing in his hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even and strong but he couldn’t. “I thought you were gone.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and focusing on where he touched her, his hands and arms on her legs. “I woke up to an empty bed and your fearful scent and I panicked.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.”

“You weren’t supposed to go anywhere either last time but you still did.” He hated the poisonous words the moment they felt his mouth but his mate didn’t seem hurt, knowing anger was his way to cope. “I’m sorry,” He hid his face on her leg, not wanting to see her hurt face.

“Don’t be,” Was the only thing she said as she kept stroking his hair. She was too good to him, she had always been. She had known so much pain her entire life but she was still an amazing person, Rowan didn’t know how much strength it must take her. The Gods knew Rowan lacked that particular strength when the time had come, he had turned into the worst version of himself. He admired his Fireheart.

After a moment, Rowan looked back at her and she smiled, his entire world brightened at this. She was okay, she was right here with him. She was safe.

“How are you?” He asked, feeling selfish for crying when she was the one who had a nightmare.

“We’re both okay, Rowan.” She reassured him as her free hand came to rest on her slightly rounded belly. Rowan’s heart swelled at the sight, he still couldn’t believe it. After years, decades, of trying Azlin was pregnant. She had been glowing for the past four months, even if she said otherwise.

“Is she still kicking?” He asked, one of his hands joining Aelin’s.

“Your son is restless, I hope you slept enough in your life because he’s not going to let us sleep much once he’s here.”

Both Aelin and him had a divergence of opinion on their baby’s sex. Aelin was sure it was a boy, whereas Rowan believed it was a girl. A girl had been their oldest in the vision he had for months when Aelin was gone. It had been too realistic to be a dream, had felt too real.

Yrene knew and had asked them if they wanted to know, but both of them agreed they wanted to keep it secret. They had too many surprises in their lives and none of them had been good, but this one would be. No more surprises unless it’s a good one.

“She’ll be worth every sleepless night.” His lips turned into a smile at the idea of a little Aelin and Rowan.

Aelin snorted. “Wait until you have to change diapers.”

At that, Rowan laughed, soon followed by Aelin. When he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, his smile faded. “What did you dream of?” He asked, needing to know why his wife had left their room after a nightmare instead of waking him up.

She lost her smile too, her body tenser than moments ago. “Nothing important.”

“Please, tell me.”

She took a deep breath and some time to answer. Rowan didn’t mind, he’d give her eternity if she needed as long as he knew what troubled his wife. He got up, lifted Aelin's legs so he could sit next to her, and then rested her legs on his while he caressed her thighs in comfort. “I was you.”

“With Maeve?”

She shook her head making his confusion grow. She had already told him about nightmares of him being taken on that beach, of him being whipped and tortured for months. He had held her as she cried, as she told him the pain of losing him would have been so much more than the pain she experienced all these months away from him.

“In Arobynn’s cave.” She whispered as tears pooled in her eyes. He wouldn’t take her in his arms, he would wait for her to do it first, no need to overwhelm her. “With your eyes missing, whole body destroyed and a cold body.”

Oh.

“Fireheart…”

“Have you ever dreamed of me like that?” She asked and he knew she didn’t mean just dreams of her, dead.

“I did.” He admitted, his heart beating faster at the thought of it. “First in Wendlyn, when you left for Rifthold. Every time I closed my eyes I lived the day I found Lyria over and over again. But it wasn’t her small body that I saw, it was yours. It haunted me for months.” He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions. Aelin was crying, she didn’t need someone else to become a wreck. “Then when you told me you were pregnant, it started again.”

It happened more than he wanted to admit. He knew it wouldn’t happen, it was impossible, but he still could see her dead body in front of his destroyed mountain home.

Aelin didn’t say anything but she straddled him, his hands finding her waist as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her forehead came to rest on his as they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s company. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His hand stroked her back, his fingers drawing the lines of his tattoo he knew by heart now. Every part of her body was written in his mind. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I know it’s rare lately.” Her warm hand cupped his cheek and he sighed in her embrace. “Whenever I don’t feel okay and you’re not around, I come here.”

“The library?”

“Or the theater if I feel like walking.” Which wasn’t a lot lately, his wife’s pregnancy was taking her so much energy they didn’t go to the theater in months. She was always so tired or in pain, he knew she missed it. “Whenever I’m here, I feel so close to you, as if part of your soul was here between these walls.”

His heart clenched at it, he lifted up his head, his lips settled gently on hers. He kissed her languidly, generously, putting as much love and passion as he could. He loved her so much he felt like dying. He would die without her.

Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue continuing to play with Rowan's. The kiss turned from passionate to needy. He needed the reassurance she was here, she was with him, and his mate knew it.

In a matter of moments, Rowan was shirtless and had pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her naked body. Aelin had gained weight in the years since the war, her body that had once been too thin was now full. She had had a hard time adjusting, she had been starving most of her life. Even during her years with Arobynn, she was always under a strict diet to stay the best. She had never been in a stable enough place for her to thrive.

So when her flat stomach rounded out, thighs grew and cheeks filled out, it was a shock. Rowan had been there to worship her body day and night, reminding her that she was just living, and seeing her happy was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

One of Rowan’s hands was teasing Aelin’s sensitive nipple, tearing little cries out of her perfect, delicate, lips. Her hands undid his buckle quickly as Rowan lifted his hips to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing his hard member.

Aelin didn’t waste time before taking him, her hand around him applying just the right amount of pressure. His hand slipped between her legs, directly finding her wet and warm entrance. They moaned together as Aelin’s hand movement quickened and Rowan plunged two fingers in her warmth, hitting that spot inside of her that made her scream every time.

As good as it was, Rowan craved something else, so when he groaned Aelin understood. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. No matter how many years had passed since the first time, Rowan kept being surprised at how good she tasted. He moaned around his fingers as Aelin teased her entrance with his erection before sinking down, making both of their heads drop back.

Being inside of her had always felt so good, had always felt so right, as if he had been born just to do this. Her belly prevented their chests from touching but Rowan didn’t mind as he ran his hands on every inch of her skin as she started moving.

Aelin kept bouncing slowly on top of him, taking her time as she chased her pleasure, and once again Rowan realized how much he loved her. His Fireheart, his mate, his wife, and his best friend.

He loved her so damn much and he told her so, repeated it over and over again as they both fell over the edge, gripping the other’s skin as they reached the peak of pleasure.

They were both breathless as he lifted her up, pulling out of her and he used his shirt to clean her up. He didn’t want to get dressed not yet, anyway. He lied on his side, tucking his Fireheart next to him. That way, every inch of his front could touch her back. One of his hands came to rest on her belly as he took her book, opening it to where she had left a bookmark.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, her voice sleepy. He used his magic to extinguish most of the candles in the bookstore, leaving only the ones behind him lit to give him some light. "Shhh." He said softly into her ear, moving slightly to be more comfortable, and pulled her even closer to him. "You don't have to come back to reality now." He told her then began to read her book aloud.

He couldn’t see her but deep down, he left her smile as she put her hand against his, both of them holding their baby as they hugged each other.

Aelin fell asleep quickly but Rowan didn’t stop reading, even if after many hours his voice became hoarse and his throat hurt. But if his Fireheart heard him maybe she would know he was still here, even in her sleep.

—————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

#rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius

153 notes · View notes

witch-hazels-musings · 3 years ago

Note

i dunno if requests are still open but if they are, could i request this? if not, feel free to delete! but in case they are open here's the request: jean, beidou, and ganyu reacting to accidentally hurting their s/o? it could be anything from simple slap in the face while turning around or hurting them with their vision/weapon :]

Accidents

(ouchie -- having them accidentally hurt the reader T.T -- they didn’t mean too!)

Warning -> SFW, accidental injury (Character -> Reader)(face injury (Jean)), (meantions of cuts to face / arms (Ganyu)), (hit by rope (Beidou))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Beidou, Jean, Ganyu

Beidou

She takes pride in keeping everyone on her crew safe, no matter the danger - on sea or land, she will fight and guard each person in her charge -- you are no exception and in fact, you are probably the one she fights the hardest for. The thought of seeing you hurt doesn’t sit well with her and, if she can control it, she’d never let it happen

How could she have known that she’d be the one to cause you discomfort -- that she’d end up allowing you to get hurt because she let something slip through her fingers … pride was a strong emotion, but guilt could send a pirate to the bottom of the ocean

The weather had made a sudden turn for the worst. Dark clouds rolled overhead as the crew furled the sales to protect them from the downpour that was bound to arrive any second now.

“Captain!” Beidou’s attention shifted to the crow's nest, her scout pointing violently toward a massive cumulus cloud in the distance. She knew it was bound to smash right them if they maintained this heading, so in an effort to avoid it, she ran toward the bow barking orders.

“Tack to starboard! Finnick,” She turned to point at the several crew waiting on the foredeck, “raise the spinnaker, now.” They quickly bustled to their jobs while she found herself at the head of the boat. Her arms crossed as she oversaw the work of her crew; great pride swelling in her chest to see how organized they were even without her voice like a well-oiled machine everyone did their part.

As the creaking boat turned, heading parallel now to the storm, Beidou hoped that it would stay on its heading so the Crux wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of its onslaught. It was now a waiting game, but if she knew anything about the ocean - it would be a win for her today.

Just then, a rope tying one of the many large sails snapped. Its reaction was like a domino effect and soon all hands were rushing to stop a potentially catastrophic outcome. Leaping over the railing, she landed hard onto the deck below, her feet finding solid ground long enough for her to push forward and, before the other crew had a chance to react, she was already climbing the mainmast as if it were a simple tree. It took her no time at all to reach the issue but the strong winds continued to whip around the ropes below her and by the time she managed to capture them - her eyes fell onto your frame.

In terrible slow motion, she watched as you reached for the rope only to have it collide into your chest and knock you back into another crew member. Her heart sank, her arms burned, her determination steadfast as she made quick work of the problem before dropping back down to you.

“Are you alright?” Someone called, their hands reaching to you as if to offer some assistance but Beidou knocked them away. Orders were told, tasks were assigned, and before you could object, she carried you into her quarters.

When the door closed and she sat you on her bed, you could already tell how upset she was. “Beidou -- it was an accident, I didn’t have good footing and …” She uncrossed your arms, you didn’t even realize that you were holding onto your chest. Carefully peeling back your tunic, she noticed the welt that was starting to grow in the area below your collarbone. With a huff, she walked away before returning with a cloth. “You’re being silly, it’s not that ba-AD!” You shouted, the cold material shocking you as it came into contact with your burning injury.

“This could have been much worse. You’re lucky it only bruised the surface.” Sitting next to you, she rested her knee near your lower back, and the warmth of her leg as she moved close to you somehow offset the ice on your chest.

“I’m just upset I didn’t grab it, it was right there and then … ah - that’s sore.” She tested your shoulder, pushing against it with her palm and shaking her head at the notion that you were going to have a painful recovery.

“You are a member of this crew and I have sworn an oath to protect you, but …” Her head dropped and she found it hard to continue. 'How could I let this happen' was written all over her expression.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. You’re an excellent captain.”

“A captain keeps her ship on course, its belly full, and its crew happy. How can I do that when my happiness is your wellbeing?” Her fingers ran over your ear, slipping in between the locks of your hair as if to show you how much she cherished you. Carefully, she leaned toward you, her lips connecting softly onto your shoulder as they trailed a path to your injury and even in the numbness of it you were still able to feel the heat from her love. “If you are ever out of your depth, allow me to be your lifeline.”

“Of course, as long as you trust me to know when I'm there.”

“Within reason.” As the boat rocked on the sea and the sky rumbled far into the distance, you captured the steady heart of the captain.

Jean

Jean would never intentionally harm you, the thought of putting someone innocent in danger makes her sick - as the acting Grandmaster she has a sworn duty to protect everyone around her from those who would do them harm

So when she's the one who caused your injury, she's beside herself with regret

She stood in her office, her back to the door as she let her mind wander on all the things that needed to be done. It was never-ending, and while she was always fulfilled by the products of her work, she often pushed herself so far that her body and mind became clouded.

Today was one of those days. The work, planning, problem-solving was weighing on her. There is never enough time, she thought to herself as she rested her head in her hand and squeezed tighter around her rib cage. She was distracted, so exhausted that her ears felt blocked, her body swayed even though she knew she wasn't moving, and her head throbbed.

"Jean ..." What needed to be done first, she pinched her nose and through harder. "Jean?" She sighed and attempted to stop the voices in her head.

"Jean, hey?" A hand touched her arm and in her daze, she turned suddenly. Her hand was further from her face than she expected and with a solid smack, she hit something.

"Ah!" Your startled voice shook her back to understanding, your expression and hand now covering your face sent her heart in the pit of her stomach.

"Y/N? I'm so sorry ..." She rested her hand on your arm and shakily reached for your face, her fingers tenderly touching the ones that hid you from her pained eyes. "I didn't -- are you badly hurt?"

"Ouch, you got me really good." You explained, scrunching and circling your nose but allowing her to take your hand.

"My mind was elsewhere, I am ... I'm sorry." She ran her hands over your face, the warm feeling of wind slipping from her fingers and soon your expression eased.

"Thanks, It was an accident, don't worry."

"An accident like this should have never occurred, it is unbecoming of me to allow myself to falter." She stepped away from you, afraid that any prolonged contact would make it worse.

"Jean, you're allowed to make mistakes, and look - I'm fine, see." You grinned proudly but she couldn't let it go.

"I need to make amends."

"Mmm, well then, I have an idea."

"What is it?" She looked at you hopeful, her eyes watching you as you stepped closer.

"I'll take a kiss as an apology." You tapped the side of your cheek and presented it to her.

With hesitating hands, she rested her fingers on the other side of your cheek and let her lips touch the skin she hurt, "I will be more observant in the future."

You turned your head, your face so close you could feel her breath, "I don't see how that's possible, but if it means I get to have more of your attention, I'll be okay with that."

You kissed her and wondered if she was able to heal through her lips.

Ganyu

The absolute sweetest soul in all of Teyvat. She cares deeply for all things, works hard to get the job done, and is dedicated in her actions - it's one reason why her contract with Rex Lapis was drafted; she is the epitome of ____

She would never maliciously hurt those around her and often puts herself in harm's way to keep others safe

To her, causing harm to someone she adores, loves, cherishes would be as severe as breaking her contract

The two of you ran through the field, your legs burning as you dashed across the landscape and away from your persistent pursuers.

"Ganyu! Up ahead!" You shouted, pointing to the higher ground and dashing in that direction. She followed, keeping an eye out on the enemies behind. To buy some time, she laid down her tantalizing cryo flower before picking up her pace to reach you.

"From here we can handle them more easily, just be ready." She nodded her head and pulled back her bow, ready to strike.

The fight was far more doable in this arena, each enemy falling one after another as the two of you fought in perfect sync. Charging her shot, she saw the ideal opportunity to hit multiple targets at once, but as soon as her arrow flew so did you.

"Y/N!" She shouted but you were too far away and, as soon as you reached them, prepping your sword for a swing, the arrow exploded hitting everything in its path. You yelled, sliding on the ground only to slam hard into the dusty surface. In an instant, everything that Ganyu was, and wasn't, aiming for fell.

Rushing forward, she reached you and quickly assessed your condition. Her hands hovering, her eyes scanning only to find the damage she had caused. Several small cuts appeared on your face, your arms were equally damaged and the despair that filled her was so great she prostrated herself before you. Her head resting on your hips as she bowed deeply.

"Ga-Ganyu? What are you doing?" You asked, setting your sword to the side as you looked down at her.

"I hurt you, please forgive me." You tried to pull her up but she shook her head and dug in deeper into her display.

"It was an accident, I wasn't looking and that was a good shot. I'm not hurt."

"You are!" She shot up, her eyes looking at the marks that she had created on your skin. "It was my fault that you have -- if-if they leave a scar ... I ..." She shook her head, unable to finish her thought.

"Ganyu ... they won't leave a scar, and even if they did, don't you think I'd look super cool?" You smiled but she hated it.

"It's not acceptable ... if you'd like to d-dismantle our contract, I understa-"

You wrapped your arms around her, squeezing tightly as you spoke. "I don't want that, I'd never want that. I need you, please don't ever think I'd be okay if you weren't at my side." After a moment, she returned the gesture and you felt the pressure of her nose dig into your neck. When she finally pulled away, you let your hands slide down her arms and rest into her delicate hands.

"I'll just have to practice harder." She nodded fiercely as she helped you stand up.

"If you insist." You laughed, thinking to yourself when she would ever find the time to do that.

tag list:

@clemmywrites @sufzku @plenilunegazes @lucacandy @marianadibenea @nonniechan @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @excitedlysuffering

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #genshin impact ganyu #ganyu #ganyu x reader #jean #genshin jean #jean x reader #beidou #genshin beidou #beidou x reader

244 notes · View notes

kiyosamu · 3 years ago

Text

painful reminders

(part 1/3)

——— ♡ ———

pairing: suna rintaro x female reader

genre: angst to comfort

cw: brief mentions and descriptions of assault (not from suna, not domestic violence), reader experiences post-traumatic stress, panic, anxiety

——— ♡ ———

“hey, i’m here now. you’re safe.”

the words echoed in your mind for a few seconds too long. you were hardly able to register their meaning while under the influence of your deep fear. you felt nothing but dread; impending pain and horror that you were sure was coming at any moment.

——— ♡ ———

suna slumped his body on the window of the train, trying to contort his larger than average build into a position comfortable enough to get a few moments of rest before arriving at his stop.

“attention passengers. there is a situation and we need to make an emergency stop at the next station. please gather your belongings and file out of the train as soon as we arrive.”

weird, he thought. must be another petty robbery. maybe someone refusing to get off of the tracks, or something exciting, like a mass murderer.

suna caught himself just as he had the thought, stopping his process immediately.

he shook his head, unimpressed at his ability to appear removed and disinterested no matter the situation. not to mention the scenarios running through his mind; scenarios that would terrify any sane person with an ounce of emotion no matter who they were.

suna scoffed and sat up to grab his bag.

of course, he knew it was nothing like that. that’s probably why he didn’t stay in his head and scare himself with anything further. why bother upsetting yourself by simply letting your mind run away from you? stupid, he thought. he never understood overthinkers. not only was it not productive, but it was exhausting.

thankfully, this station was only about a ten minute walk from the next, the one he was supposed to get off at. even though he was coming home from a tiring practice, the athlete never seemed to run out of stamina.

suna squinted as bright blue and red lights lit up the dark streets. rain began to pour and suna cursed his odds. the forecast predicted only a 10% chance of rain, and he just so happened to be getting caught in that unlucky percentage when he had to walk even further just to get back home.

he groaned and pushed his hair out of his face. the rain soaked his clothes, his sweatpants and shirt clinging to his body. suna felt disgusting and suddenly the thought of a hot shower was even more appealing than the leftover onigiri he had waiting in his fridge.

just as another thought of self pity was about to cross his mind, another police car flew by him.

must be pretty bad, wonder what happened..

that thought was as far as his curiosity went. if it was major, he’d probably hear about it on the news or in the paper. if not, well, it really was none of his business.

as he turned down the next street, he saw four police cars all blocking off the station. police tape sectioned off the area and officers stood with their arms crossed and chests pushed out as other vehicles pulled in.

he blinked a few times, taking in the scene for a second before realizing he’d stopped walking. suna brought himself back to reality and stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets. while he was shamelessly nosy as a teenager, he’d grown into quite the reserved young adult who knew how to mind his business.

unfortunately, that new trait flew out the window the second he heard a familiar voice.

——— ♡ ———

“officer, please. he said he’d come back for me, i don’t feel safe going home… i don’t have family here, i don’t have anywhere else to stay-“

“look. you’re just scared, but you’re not injured.” the man stared down at you with an emotionless glare. “there’s nothing more we can do for you. the suspect assaulted two other women and they’re cooperating. why are you asking us for more when we’ve done everything we can so far?”

his voice was as cold as your quickly declining temperature, the rain soaking through your t-shirt and causing you to shiver.

“he.. he held a knife to my throat. there’s-“ you lifted your hand to lightly trace the marks on your neck that had been squeezed in place only an hour before. “he said he was going to kill me but…” you trailed off, the night’s events playing over and over in your mind with no indication of stopping the endless repeat. “but then he saw the lights and ran. he said he’d be back for me…”

the officer sighed.

“criminals often utter threats to make their victims submit to their words and give in. they want to commit their crimes as quickly as possible. we’ve gone over this, you didn’t know him. he doesn’t know anything about you-“

“but what if he does?!” you shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks before you’d even realized you were crying.

“listen ma’am, you need to calm down-“ the officer grabbed your wrist and you ripped it away from him, covering your mouth and staring in disbelief at the officer. you were in shock. you couldn’t process what was going on, let alone what had happened. you didn’t know what to do.

you froze as you felt an arm around your shoulder. a familiar voice spoke your name with tenderness and a low, empathetic tone that you’d never heard from him.

“i’ll take her home, officer. she’s my neighbour.”

while that was true, you were still surprised at the gesture. rintaro suna had been your neighbour for 3 years. the two of you were friendly; you’d been to each other’s homes a handful of times and sometimes would share a meal or drop off some food that was too much for one person.

you were both single, living alone in your apartments. although you weren’t super close, you always felt like he was a friend. a slightly distant, reserved, quiet friend, but a friend nonetheless.

the two men exchanged words for what felt like an eternity before suna squeezed you closer to him, guiding you out of the area and walking you towards your apartment.

you opened your mouth to say something. anything. even just a greeting, a thank you for the escort home.

when you stopped walking, he stayed close to you and looked down at your expression.

you opened your mouth to say something but the moment you did, you relived the traumatizing situation once again and fell into a deep panic.

“i-i-… no-n..” your words broke as you felt your body shaking. the cold rain was doing nothing to help your condition, and if you could describe it in any way, it was like losing control of your own sanity. you felt the panic wash over you as the phantom pressure of the knife pressed against your windpipe - your mind quite literally putting you in a choke hold.

“hey. i’m here now, you’re safe.”

suna wrapped his arms around you protectively. he didn’t know why, he didn’t even really know what was going on, but he knew that all he wanted to do in that moment was to prevent anything further from hurting you.

you clutched at his hand and dug your nails into his skin. you didn’t mean to, you didn’t even realize you were doing it. suna would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt, but he ignored it and held you close against him until you felt like you were okay to walk again.

when you caught your breath, you pulled his hand away from your face.

“i’m sorry… i don’t know what happened.” you choked out.

“you had a panic attack.” he said quietly. “we don’t need to talk about anything right now, though, okay? let me get you home. you went through something horrible and you’re freezing cold. it’s just a little more up the road, can you make it?”

you nodded, dropping your hands to your side and suna instinctively held onto the one closest to him.

“i’m scared to stay in my apartment… alone…” you whispered.

“you can stay with me.” suna said this with more certainty than suggestion. if anything, it was a statement. he was planning on having you stay over or even him staying at yours. whatever worked, he just didn’t want you to be alone and he knew you had nobody else to call.

he had never planned to get involved in your personal business like this. he didn’t want to be the weird neighbour, and he already worried if bringing you food some nights would make you uncomfortable.

those thoughts were always put to rest whenever you smiled at him and graciously accepted his gestures. your warm smile and the way your cheeks made your eyes squint when you were really happy was an image he’d always have trouble shaking out of his head for the following days.

suna snuck a glance at you as the two of you started to walk again. your smile that he swore could light up an entire city was nowhere to be seen.

he would do anything to see that smile on your face right now.

you looked like a shell of what you once were. he knew that you’d experienced something traumatic, but seeing you like this made him feel something hard in his chest.

you didn’t deserve that.

a painful squeeze developed deep inside him when he thought of what your face must have looked like when it had happened. a sweet girl who seemed to always bring out the bright side in any situation. you’d made him sweets (that he secretly broke his athletic diet for) when he’d lost an important game, and always made him smile whenever he saw you.

it was different right now. he felt anxious. he squeezed your hand in his and you didn’t even flinch, didn’t even seem to notice as you looked ahead with a blank stare.

on the other end, his touch alone was enough to give you the tiniest bit of comfort. it wasn’t much, and you were still scared, but it was enough to get you home.

——— ♡ ———

part 1 | part 2 (in progress) | part 3 (in progress)

142 notes · View notes

nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

Text

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence.

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something.

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place.

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more.

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy.

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain.

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over.

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at.

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why.

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck.

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste.

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness.

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault.

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize.

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals.

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things.

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting.

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person.

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe.

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better.

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water.

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands.

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats.

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program.

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating.

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack.

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you.

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked.

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything.

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home.

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days.

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice.

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs.

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts.

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes.

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly.

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight.

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat.

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment.

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching.

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode.

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.”

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself.

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting.

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble.

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.”

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed.

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to.

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home.

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate.

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year.

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters.

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone.

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask.

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping.

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat.

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches.

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors.

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates.

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time.

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score.

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended.

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him.

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah.

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head.

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel.

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up.

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair.

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump.

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip.

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps.

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey.

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you.

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake.

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye.

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep.

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel.

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you.

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before.

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice.

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves.

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates.

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet.

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone.

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd.

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals.

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features.

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda.

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point.

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase.

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him.

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months.

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received.

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper.

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about.

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list.

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship.

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them.

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights.

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop.

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.”

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience.

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door.

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles.

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years.

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut.

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?”

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall.

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?”

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is.

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete.

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly.

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction.

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well.

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much.

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal.

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror.

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger.

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates.

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch.

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city.

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile.

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift.

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible.

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable.

“Good morning,” he repeats.

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities.

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off.

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals.

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine.

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep.

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front.

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly.

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay.

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse.

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you.

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself.

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms.

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot.

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down.

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help.

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there.

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater.

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain.

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength.

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again.

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#this right here is my baby #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

402 notes · View notes

fieryhonesty · 4 years ago

Text

Genshin drabbles filled with sadness - Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao

“What have I done? Why did I write such angsty stuff? I feel horrible for hurting the boys. Maybe I should have delete this...”

prompts: loosing their s/o for whatever reason, f!reader

Genre: angst

Warning(s): nsfw (alcohol consumption, mention of blood) don’t give me that look you don’t want to read this at work, depression & mourning, reader’s dead (no violent or detailed description the boys just lost their girl)

Kaeya has poured two glasses of wine. One for him and one for the woman sitting next to him. She was smiling with the most genuine smile. Pointing up at the sky. The moon and the stars were shining bright. He didn't need any other light source to see her beautiful face.

Just the two of them sitting at the balcony of their shared house. Silently observing the beauty of the night. Drinking from his glass, the sweet-bitter taste was dancing on his tongue. It was as beautiful as the woman he was spending the time with.

"You know, you are really beautiful tonight, y/n. How about I take a day off tomorrow just to spend it with you?"

No answer.

"We could go on a walk around the city or perhaps go outside the city's walls?"

Yet again, silence.

Kaeya finished his glass with one quick motion. Pouring more wine. The burning sensation in his throat was slowly reminding him something.

"Hey, Dearest. Why don't you talk to me?"

Silence.

"Ah, you are right. I'm... a fool."

He starts laughing. It's not a laugh a happy man would have, it's quite the opposite. Kaeya's in pain. His chest hurts, he knows why but dares not to admit it.

Removing his eye patch and tossing it on the table. Looking at his smiling companion. Why is she so beautiful? He is such a lucky man, having somebody like that. So why is he feeling this pain in his chest? Why does he feel like his heart will burst?

The glass with wine shatters. The shards are covered in the red liquid. He closes his eyes. Trying to force the tears to stop forming. Biting his lips. It hurts so much. His hazy memories are slowly reminding him what's going on.

Just like a movie it all flashes back in the moment you were standing between him and the enemy. Blocking the hit for him. Falling to ground with a painful scream. But before that you managed to look at your beloved. He is safe, you did well.

He stares in horror at the scene. Wishing it's just a bad horror he is watching. This can't be happening. You didn't waste your life for him, did you? If there was somebody supposed to die it's him. He made a mistake. A mistake which cost him you.

Kaeya is silently sobbing, one hand hiding his face while the other is gripping his attire at chest area. He is sure nobody can see him, yet he still feels like to hide. He might be drunk but he knows the woman next to him is just an illusion created by his own mind. There's nobody at all it's just him and the wine.

You are no longer alive. It's all because of him being cocky that day. He was full of himself and so sure he will keep you safe. In the end he lost his remaining pride and you...

Diluc is walking in circles. Biting his thumb while doing so. It hurts, he can taste blood but nothing hurts more than his heart right now. Sweat is forming on his forehead as he is trying to suppress his tears. His shoes are making loud thumbs against the wooden floor. The sounds can be heard in the room under his.

Everyone is silent in the room. Elzer, Adelinde, the old man Tunner and a few more. Listening to noises from Master Diluc's room, yet nobody dares to let him know he is loud. It would be more than rude. Especially now when he has to deal with yet another painful experience.

First he lost his father and several years later he lost his wife. He was finally happy. Having you by his side was a blessing. You were there for him whenever he needed and he did the same for you. Feeling down? He'd be there cupping your face, planting butterfly kisses on your face. Snuggling you close into a protective embrace.

You did something similar. Playing with his hair when he was snuggled to your neck. Brushing through them, tucking them behind his ear. Saying soothing words. He would fall asleep like that.

But now? You are gone. Your sudden passing away affected the whole manor. You were liked among the maids as you often joined in small talk or offered to help them. Despite their protests it's their job. You didn't mind it.

Old Tunner and folks from vineyards remember how you often walked around. Caressing the grapes or bringing some snack.

Simply put. You were the star which was shining bright for everyone. Lifting their spirits and now you are gone. Everyone is mourning you but none can think of how much he is hurt.

When Diluc heard about your critical condition he rushed to see you but doctors didn't let him. You needed to rest but your body was weak, they knew you won't make it. In the end allowing him to see you for the last time. Holding your already cold hand.

He sat there for minutes, until you left him all alone. He didn't move, doctors had to lead him out. Somebody had to pick him up and bring home. He laid on the bed, one hand over his face. Trying to keep his tears away.

Nobody dared to knock on the door. Not even Elzer who always worried about his young Master. Trying to offer some kind words. He knew his words would be useless now. All he can do is just wait. He knows if he goes his Master will be out of control and won't listen to anything.

It's just another painful hit for Master Diluc. He thought he would be happy finally. Already had plans for the future with you. Everything is pointless now. Why does life keep taking his beloved ones from him? How much more he has to suffer…

Xiao is silently sitting at the top of Wangshu Inn. The cold wind is caressing his hair. He is observing the distant horizon, how the moon is slowly going up. His mind is blank. If he were a mortal it would be probably clouded by negative thoughts.

He has no feelings or need for them. He is one of the mighty Adepti, there's no room for stupid things like feelings or emotions. At least that's what he tries to keep repeating to himself.

Mortals come and leave out of his life. Which is only natural for their short life span. He wouldn't be bothered with it at all. But there was a woman who managed to change him. Showed him what those odd feelings in his chest are. She proved to him he has feelings and emotions. He was just suppressing them his whole life.

Perhaps it was all for the better. He feels lonely. Usually it would be the two of you sitting here. You would be nudging him about random things. Snuggle onto his shoulder, whispering some nonsense. He would look at you and see those shiny, beautiful eyes of yours.

He remembers when you fed him with his favorite dish. He was confused at first why would you do it. Explaining to him it's something people in love would do for their partner. Take care of them. He tried to feed you too, it was a clumsy attempt. But you appreciated his efforts.

You showed him so many nice things he could see only from mortal's eyes. He understands some things he couldn't before. All because of you. But what's this feeling? Regret? No. He does not regret letting you enter his life. He regrets being too late.

Before he could do something you were already gone. The demon which attacked you. That sneaky bastard avoiding his watchful gaze. It dared to assault somebody he thought of as a close person. Taking you from him just as if bonds are nothing.

When he arrived you were possessed by the demon. Its power went out of control, destroying everything around. He tried to talk to you but there was nothing left, just agony and darkness. He could see the suffering in your face. You didn't want to. You never were a violent person, yet now you are destroying everything.

For the first time in his life Xiao felt anger was taking control over him. He wanted to eradicate all demons. For what they did all those millennials, for what they did just right now. He knew you will eventually die and leave him, he was fine with that. But he never thought of losing you like this.

He has to do his duty as a Yaksha, the Liyue's protector. Pointing the tip of his spear at your throat. He stopped only because you tried to talk. The words coming out of your lips were just gibberish.

"Farewell, y/n. I'm sorry."

Ending it just like that. Watching how the blood was leaving your body. Feeling sick from the sight of it. He released you from the agony the demon was causing you. Banishing it as it tried to escape from your dying body. There's no demon safe, not from Xiao. He will continue his duty.

But one thing is certain. He will always feel lonely at night as he got used to your presence. You will remain in his heart forever. Always will have that special place as a foolish but lovely mortal, daring to approach him despite all of his fame as a Yaksha. The cold he feels right now bothers him. Just if you could be there...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin kaeya x reader #genshin diluc x reader #genshin xiao x reader #f!reader #xiao is inspired a bit by his voice line #my heart still hurts #please forgive me husbandos #fiery flash

525 notes · View notes

marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 26: Illusions (Dance)

AO3

Marinette quickly decides she hates the punishment. The grounding. It sucks not being allowed to go on patrol with her family. Luckily, Adrien came back to Paris the day after she was grounded, so she didn’t have to take any of her family to Paris. Which she was thankful for, because as much as she loved them, she also doubted they’d be able to control their emotions long enough.

“Hey kiddo, we’re about to head out to patrol. Do you need anything?” Dick asks, sticking his head into her room. He’d been extremely nice since she got benched, not that he was ever anything but nice. But he’d also been acting like another dad, checking in on her, making dad jokes, the works. It helped since her own dad was currently still mad at her for blocking him from Paris.

“To patrol with you guys.” She says with a hopeful smile. Dick sighs, shaking his head.

“You know I can’t do that Mari. B’s the one who has to say you’re allowed back. I’m sorry kid.” Dick says. Marinette frowns.

“It’s fine. I’ll just stay here and draw or something.” She says, flopping back down on her bed. She can tell Dick hesitates, as if he wants to say something else, but then he’s gone. And she’s alone. Again.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki asks, flying over and landing next to her head.

“It’s been four days, Tikki. Four days. How much longer is he gonna have me benched? If the akuma was bad, I would’ve brought in Kagami or Luka.” She rambles, covering her face with her hands. She was restless, which was making her anxious. She wanted to do something. She didn’t want to be stuck at home. And sure, she could train in the gym here, but her mind wouldn’t be in it. She’d be worried about her family the whole time.

“Well...maybe it’s time for you to be ungrounded.” Tikki says slowly. Marinette pulls her hands from her face and blinks at her friend.

“Are you...are you ungrounding me?” She asks. Because yes, her dad had grounded her. But Tikki had agreed with the punishment. And while sneaking around the world’s greatest detective would be hard, she was willing to do it. Going against the goddess of creation? Not so much.

“If you bring Trixx, you’ll be able to be invisible when you’re around your family.” Tikki suggests and Marinette grins.

“Plagg’s rubbing off on you, isn’t he?” She teases. Tikki huffs.

“Not at all. I just don’t like seeing you upset, Marinette.” She says and Marinette smiles.

“Thank you, Tikki.” She says, going over to the Miracle Box and pulling out Trixx’ necklace. She puts it on and grins at the small fox.

“Hiya Guardian! What’s goin’ on?” Trixx asks with a wide smile.

“Tikki suggested I bring you on patrol so I can be invisible. Whaddya say Trixx, ready to cause some mischief?” Marinette asks. Trixx smirks.

“Obviously!” He cheers. Marinette grins. Let the fun begin.

---

Marinette sticks close to her family, using Mirage to make herself invisible. It was weird, following her family and not being able to hear them (she hadn’t wanted to take a comm in case she messed up and talked, she’d be in real trouble then). But it was also funny, watching her dad tense if she got too close. He could definitely tell that something funny was going on, but she was determined to not let him figure her out. The beeping from Trixx’ necklace makes her huff. She’d have to go hide and recharge, but it was fine. Trixx had already told her that he was having fun messing with her family, so she knew he’d be willing to keep going for a little while longer. Dashing behind one of the air conditioning units on the roof, she lets Trixx’ Mirage drop, passing him a handful of berries.

“Take your time Trixx, they won’t get far.” Marinette reassures him, smiling at him as he grabs the berries from her. She leans up against the unit, taking a minute to just relax.

“Well, well, well. Looks like the little bug strayed from her birds.” A familiar voice drawls out. Marinette stiffens, not turning.

“Trixx, go. Find the others.” She commands, ripping the necklace off and passing it to Trixx. He immediately zips away and she whirls around, just in time to jump back and avoid the sword coming at her.

“You have more than one Miraculous? How interesting. You know, Damian stopped us from talking last time. I’d love to...chat.” Slade says, pulling his sword back. She can’t see his face, but she can hear the smirk in his voice. Marinette grits her teeth, remembering the last time she’d seen the man. The scar she had on her shoulder.

“I’d rather not. No offense, but you don’t seem like a great conversationalist.” She snarks, her entire body tense as she stays poised to fight. She glances around, trying to find an escape route that would get her as far away from him as possible. And quick.

“You’re not actually thinking of running, are you? You have no backup. I’ve been watching the Bats tonight. No one knows you’re even here.” He says, stepping closer so that he’s almost blocked her in. She feels her breathing quicken as she starts to panic slightly. She’d only escaped last time because of her family. They’d fought him off after he got ahold of her. He’s far stronger than her, she has to stay out of his reach. She takes a deep breath, staring the man down and schooling her features into a neutral mask. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her distressed.

“I never run from a fight.” She lies, throwing her yoyo out to wrap around the handle of the man’s sword, tugging as she throws her weight to his left. The clanking of the sword as it bounces off the roof makes her grin, and she quickly tugs the yoyo, grabbing the sword by its handle and twirling it around slightly, planting her feet in her new position. She’d managed to move so that she was no longer blocked between Slade and the air conditioning unit.

“Oh sweetheart, you can’t possibly beat me.” He says, shaking his head as he walks towards her, pulling his second sword off his back.

“Don’t underestimate me.” She snaps, holding up the sword and preparing herself to fight back. He sighs, as if he’s disappointed in her, before lunging forward, bringing his sword up for an attack. She holds up her own sword, blocking his strike. It was much different than the fencing foil she’d used a few times back in Paris, much heavier. She grits her teeth as he pushes down with the sword, obviously trying to overpower her. She holds for another moment before jumping back, jerking her sword away. The sudden change in force makes him stumble forwards and let out a growl. He continues to lunge towards her as she dances back and forth, trying to avoid fighting him too much. He’d definitely overpower her if she let him get too close.

“I’d rather do this the easy way, darling, but if you’re really going to make me do this the hard way we can.” He threatens, twirling the sword around before charging her again. She let out a gasp, jumping back again, her foot slipping as she was much closer to the edge of the roof than she expected. She falls, managing to grab the roof with her open hand, the sword now dangling at her side. She had two options. She could let go of the sword and use her yoyo to swing away, or she could try and let go of the roof and shoot out her yoyo quick enough to avoid splatting on the ground. She quickly makes her decision, dropping the sword into the dumpster below her and yanking out her yoyo to attempt to swing away.

“No!” She yells, as Slade grabs her hand from the roof, tugging her towards him before she can swing away. She struggles against him, kicking at him, throwing her elbows around wildly. She had to get out of his hold.

“Did you really think that would work?” He asks, as he pins her to chest. She continues struggling in his grasp, not willing to give up yet.

“Thought I’d try it.” She huffs.

“Sure you did sweetheart. Now, I’ll be taking these.” Slade says, reaching for her earrings. He touches them and hisses in pain, Marinette also hissing in shock. They’d heated up when he grabbed them, almost like they were trying to burn him. Unfortunately for Marinette, they were still on her ears. Which meant she also got burned.

“What the hell was that?” He hisses, whirling her around to face her, continuing to hold her arms down. She continues to struggle while glaring at the man.

“Apparently the earrings don’t want you either.” She snaps.

“Guess I’ll just have to take you with me.” He says and her eyes widen in panic. No. Nope. Not a secondary location, she’d watched enough true crime shows and listened to Tim rant about cold cases enough to know what a secondary location meant. It meant death. And she was not about to die again, especially not somewhere she couldn’t use the Cure. A hard blow to the back of her head makes her vision go black as she quickly slips into unconsciousness.

---

Dick Grayson was not expecting to see a tiny floating fox on patrol. He was definitely not expecting said tiny fox to be carrying a necklace and rambling worriedly.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down buddy. What’s wrong?” Dick asks, smiling at them. They were similar to Plagg, the tiny floating black cat that had hung around the day Marinette was a toddler.

“It’s the Guardian! She needs help. A man with a mask and swords found her and she doesn’t have any backup.” They ramble, a terrified look on their face. Dick frowns.

“Who?” He asks, not quite sure why the fox has chosen him.

“Marinette!” They cry, and Dick freezes. “Tikki told her she could be ungrounded and so we were following you guys, but then she had to stop and the man found her. Please, help her!”

“Lead the way.” He says, whirling on his heel and following the little creature as it zips through the city. He follows them all the way to a roof, frowning when the fox pauses and looks around, clear panic on their face.

“They were here. She was here.” They mumble, twisting in circles and looking around. They start zipping forward again, and Dick has to rush to follow. Hopefully they’d spotted Marinette. And whoever the guy was. As he follows the fox, he frowns when he spots a figure carrying something over their shoulder. Something limp- He pushes forward, going faster than the fox as he attempts to catch up. The second the figure lands on a roof, he whips out his escrima sticks, whacking the man across the back of his legs. The man stumbles, spinning around and glaring at Dick.

“Nightwing, wasn’t expecting to see you.” Slade growls. Dick narrows his eyes.

“Drop the girl, Slade.” He demands. Slade lets out a humorless laugh.

“I’ve been trying to get to her for weeks, do you really think I’m going to let go of her that easily?” He asks.

“I think if you know what’s good for you, you’ll set her down and get the hell out of Gotham.” Dick says.

“Nightwing, who is it?” Damian’s voice rings through the comm. Dick’s relieved that he was on the duo’s channel rather than the group channel. If he could get Marinette home before B noticed, maybe his baby sister wouldn’t get in more trouble.

“I don’t think you understand the importance of her earrings.” Slade counters, obviously preparing to fight his way out.

“I don’t care how important you think they are, Slade. Put her down and get out of the city.” He says, watching the older man’s body language to try and anticipate the attack. He hears Damian curse in his ear, and he resists the urge to reprimand him.

“How about no.” Slade quips, tossing Marinette to the side of the roof and charging at him in one fluid motion. Dick sees red as he watches Marinette get tossed aside so carelessly, her head bouncing off the roof. He uses one of his escrima sticks to counter the blows from the other man’s sword, using his other to whack the man’s shoulder. The two circle each other, each taking turns to start the attack. Slade may be motivated by his want for the earrings, but Dick was fighting for his sister. Losing wasn’t an option for Dick, not when one of his siblings was in danger.

“I believe Nightwing told you to leave.” Damian calls, bursting into the fight. Slade turns back towards Marinette, and just as Dick’s about to lunge for him- she disappears. Completely. Gone from sight. He begins to panic slightly. Where did she go? What happened to her? The cry from Slade breaks his concentration from where his sister just disappeared into thin air. He glances back at the man, unsurprised to see Damian’s sword through the older man’s side. As much as he wants to see Slade suffer, he knows Damian would be in trouble later if he actually killed the older man. “Robin.” Dick calls, hoping to ground his little brother before he did something he would regret. Damian scowls, stepping away from Slade. Dick turns his attention to the man, who was now disarmed and bleeding profusely. Not much of a threat. “Get the hell out of this city. Don’t let us see you here again Slade.” He snaps, unsurprised as the man turns and rushes away. The man was a coward. His biggest enemy was a twelve year old boy who had done nothing but be born. Gritting his teeth, Dick takes a deep breath. No need to let his anger get the best of him. He immediately starts to panic when he remembers Marinette disappearing. Just as he’s about to call it in, her limp form shimmers back into view. He rushes over to her, glancing momentarily at the floating fox next to her.

“I can do mirages. Hopefully I controlled it enough not to make chaos anywhere, but-” They stop, glancing at Marinette. “But I had to do something.”

“Thank you.” Dick says softly, picking up Marinette and holding her close to his chest.

“Should I alert Father?” Damian asks. Dick turns to look at him, noticing how tense the younger boy looks. He weighs his options. He could take her back to the manor and let her get into even more trouble with Bruce. Or, he could take her to his apartment and try to convince Bruce that she’d been there all night.

“Let’s not. She’ll just be benched for even longer, and obviously trying to keep her from patrols isn’t going to end well for us.” Dick says, frowning at her limp form. Damian tenses, but nods. “I will continue patrol while you take her to a safe location. I expect an update once she is awake. You should stay with her, Slade has obviously become obsessed with her.” Damian says, and Dick nods.

“Thank you, Robin. I know you don’t like going against him, but…..” Dick trails off, looking at Marinette and how tiny she looked right now. Damian nods.

“She’s family as well. I did not agree with her punishment, I will not aid in it being lengthened.” He says before swinging away. Dick just smiles softly, shaking his head at his youngest brother. That was probably as close as he’d get to admitting he loved Marinette. But it was clear, in his actions, that he did care about her. Just as he cared about their other brothers, no matter how much he denied it. Sighing, Dick adjusts Marinette in his arms before grappling towards his apartment. This was going to be a long night.

---

Marinette wakes up and immediately groans at the light in the room. Almost immediately, the light disappears, as if someone flipped a switch.

“Hey kiddo.” A soft voice says. She sits up and winces, holding a hand against her head. She blinks, her eyes adjusting as she glances around the unfamiliar space.

“Dick?” She says, confused. Where were they? What happened?

“You’re okay kid, we’re at my apartment. It’s where I live when Kori and Mari are in town. Slade got you, almost got away with you too. But your little fox friend found me and I was able to get there in time. Try and drink a little water, I need to call Damian and let him know you’re awake.” He says and she starts to panic. Did their dad also know? Was she in more trouble? Was- “Marinette, you gotta breathe. Damian and I are the only ones who know you snuck out. Neither of us wanna tell B, cause then you’d just be sneaking on patrol even longer and that’s dangerous. But I’m not gonna lecture you right now. So just take a breath. That’s it kid, you’re okay.” He soothes, breathing with her for several counts. She nods once she’s calmed down, and he grins at her before walking away to make the call. She picks up the water, sipping on it and trying to ignore the pounding in her head. Instead, she glances around the apartment, smiling softly at the pictures. She’d found out about her sister in law and niece not that long ago. They were apparently off planet right now, but she had hope that they would be back before the summer was over so she could meet them. A sudden wave of nausea hits her and she groans, laying back against the couch. She huffs in frustration when she realizes she likely has a concussion.

“When I said you were ungrounded, I didn’t mean for you to fight the man that stabbed you on your first trip to Gotham.” Tikki complains, flying up and staring straight into her eyes. Marinette groans, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting.

“I didn’t mean to.” She reminds the Kwami, opening an eye to peek at her.

“Didn’t mean to.” She mumbles before letting out an uncharacteristic huff. “Next time tell one of your brothers, please Marinette. Even if you’re sneaking out. I’m sure they could figure out a way to be in communication with you without letting your dad know. It would make me feel better knowing that you have backup from the start.” Tikki says, her worry clear on her small face.

“I will, don’t worry Tikki.” Marinette says with a sigh. She could hold her own against a normal criminal, or an akumatized villain. But it wasn’t easy fighting against a man more than twice her size who was obviously highly trained.

“B thinks you came over here before patrol, so your cover is safe.” Dick says, walking back into the living room. Marinette smiles weakly at him, fully expecting a lecture now that he’s off the phone. Dick sits on the arm of the chair next to the couch, looking at her worriedly. “Think you have a concussion?” He asks. She blinks, but nods slowly. He walks away and comes back a moment later with some painkillers, passing them to her. She takes them, hoping that they’ll start working sooner than later as the dull pounding in her head has escalated since waking up.

“Are you gonna yell at me?” She asks quietly, not looking at him.

“No, Marinette, I’m not gonna yell at you.” He says, and she looks at him, frowning.

“Why? I knew I was benched. And I still went out, and I didn’t tell anyone.” She says, confused as to why he wasn’t yelling. Her dad hadn’t yelled at her after she got stabbed, just flat out refused to let her patrol. But he’d yelled at her after the Watchtower thing. And the stealing the Batmobile thing. And the whole keeping him from getting to Paris thing. And the fighting an akuma alone thing.

“You know that you messed up, why would I yell at you? You know, and now next time, you’ll do it differently. You’ll be better and learn from this mistake. I’m not gonna yell at you for secretly going on patrol ‘cause I’d be a hypocrite. Was I scared to death when I realized the limp thing on Slade’s shoulder was you? Yes. God, yes, I was terrified. But you’re here and you’re fine. So instead of yelling, you’re gonna stay here tonight and I’m gonna make sure I don’t need to take you to Alfred for the concussion.” Dick says with a small smile. Marinette smiles at her brother, relieved.

“Are you gonna tell dad?” She asks. Even though he doesn’t know yet, she knows that there’s still a chance of Dick telling him.

“No, but can you do something for me?” He asks. She nods. “Next time you wanna sneak out without B knowing, could you tell me or Jay? Please? Just so we know to check in on you. We’re not gonna follow you or anything, but it’d be nice to know that one of us needs to check in and make sure you’re okay.” He says. She quirks an eyebrow in surprise. He wasn’t going to follow her?

“Really?” She asks, he nods.

“I know that sometimes you just need a break. Trust me, I get it. I understand that B can be….overbearing.” Dick says with a sigh. Marinette nods in agreement, sitting back slightly and letting out a yawn. Just as her eyes are about to close, there’s a snap in front of her face.

“What?” She groans, frowning at her brother.

“Can’t go to sleep yet kiddo. You clearly have a concussion, so I’m gonna need you to stay awake for a couple hours just to make sure your symptoms stay on the mild side.” He says. She frowns and is about to argue when the front door opens. Dick immediately jumps up and stands in front of her, but relaxes almost as quickly.

“Daddy!” The little girl, who Marinette realizes must be Mar’i, squeals, flying straight at Dick. Marinette blinks. Her niece could fly. That’s awesome! But would definitely throw a new challenge in when she babysits the girl.

“Who is this?” The woman, who was taller than Dick and drop dead gorgeous, asks, a small smile on her face. Marinette grins, waving from the couch.

“Hey, I’m Marinette. Dick’s newest sister.” She says. The woman, Kori, sighs, a smile on her face as she shakes her head.

“He adopted another?” She asks Dick. He snorts, shaking his head as he holds his daughter close.

“Nope, she’s his actual daughter. Little D took it surprisingly well.” Dick says.

“So she’s my aunt?” Mar’i asks, peeking over Dick’s shoulder.

“Yup! I’m so glad to finally meet you Mar’i.” Marinette says with a small smile, dizziness hitting her again randomly. She shuts her eyes, trying to ground herself.

“Oh, nope, sorry honey. Aunt Marinette has a bit of a headache right now, you’ll have to be easy with her.” She hears Dick say, probably stopping Mar’i from launching herself at her.

“Can we play ballerina?” Mar’i asks, and Marinette forces herself to open her eyes and look at the girl. Her heart melts at the little pout on the girl’s face and Marinette already knows that this girl is going to have her wrapped around her finger, just like Manon.

“Sweetie-” Dick starts, but Marinette cuts him off.

“Why don’t you show me your ballerina moves tonight, and then tomorrow once I’m feeling better, we can play ballerina together?” She suggests, grinning at the look on her niece’s face.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squeals, launching herself from Dick’s arms and flying to a different room.

“Marinette-” Dick starts with a sigh, an unimpressed look on his face.

“I’ll help her.” Tikki speaks up, flying to be eye level with Dick. “I can’t heal her completely, but I can heal her partially just as I did when Slade stabbed her. But I do have to warn you, if he tries to hurt my Bug again, I will let him see that there is a fate worse than death.” Marinette blinks in surprise at the complete and total rage radiating from her usual cheery friend. She watches as Dick nods in agreement.

“Better you than me. Bruce can’t yell at you.” He says in an even tone. Marinette’s jaw drops. That was...surprisingly violent for her usually cheery brother. Before she can question him, Mar’i flies back into the room in a pale pink tutu.

“Ready to see my dances?” She asks, grinning widely. Marinette nods, settling in to spend some time with her newest family members, plans of a new ballet outfit for Mar’i already dancing through her head.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial

109 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 3 years ago

Text

Like I'm Drowning

Rowaelin Month, Day Twelve

A/N: Sorry about this, blame @thewayshedreamed, she's the one who wanted more angst.

This will have a fourth part, for obvious reasons;)

part one, part two

Word count: 3,874

It was two days after Aelin had left their home. It was about eleven o'clock in the evening when the walls of what had once been his favourite place had shaken with the force of Lorcan's fists on the front door, shouting at Rowan to let him in.

He had not answered.

He couldn't have done so even if he'd wanted to because his legs had stopped working and the muscles in his neck had been reduced to jelly over the last forty-eight hours, sip after sip of whatever alcohol he'd found in the cabinet.

He lay on the floor, his face in a pool of his own vomit, too heedless to care, too sore to move. In any case, he had stopped smelling the stench hours ago.

Another ten minutes had passed, in which his best friend had threatened over and over again to call the police if he didn't open the fucking door, before Lorcan had slammed his shoulder into it.

He hadn't been able to move in time when the door unhinged from the wall fell partially on him, hitting him in the head with one of the now splintered edges. He grunted in pain and could smell the blood as it began to trickle down his forehead, onto his nose, and he was relieved - he wasn't dead. Rowan had not been sure of it until that moment.

The other was there an instant later, taking the door off him, leaning it against the wall.

And the sharp breath he took was a dagger straight to Rowan's heart.

He didn't want him to see him like this.

He had never heard Lorcan's voice like that. So shocked, so worried. Whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment were blocking him from approaching him. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. Of breaking him more than he already was.

Rowan shook his head what he could, he didn't want him to see him like this. He didn't deserve his help.

"God, Rowan, what have you done?"

The relief at finding out he was still alive lasted a moment though, as the pain in his chest hit him so hard it took his breath away and he pulled himself up onto all fours before yet another wave of gags shook his body. He opened his mouth, hoping that this time something would come out, but he choked on nothing. His eyes filled with tears and Rowan wondered how that was possible.

There should have been nothing in his body.

He’d been in this conditions since the day before.

He felt a hand settle on his back, rubbing up and down as Lorcan tried to figure out what was going on, and his brain betrayed him, showing him images of a life he had taken for granted all along, from the second she had been his.

Him on the bathroom floor a few months earlier.

A box of somewhat-too-spicy Chinese food on their coffee table.

And Aelin.

Her hands on his back.

He shook off Lorcan's hand, "Don't touch me."

The words burned his throat and another gag went up his esophagus.

He stayed in that position for a few minutes, his back rising and falling frantically with each breath where he seemed to be unable to get enough air in.

"Rowan."

He didn't look at him. He couldn't.

"Rowan, you hear me?"

Lorcan ducked down, crouching beside him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he seemed to remember what he'd just asked him not to do as soon as he gave him a startled look. If he touched him again, he didn't know what his broken mind would show him. He was terrified of it.

With a grimace, Lorcan clenched both hands into fists and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the sour smell of vomit and what Rowan was ashamed to admit was his own piss reached his nostrils. When he opened them again there was a distinct determination in his gaze and Rowan had to pull his eyes back to the floor.

He thought he had found a sort of calm in which he might even be able to answer Lorcan's questions, but he was wrong. He was so wrong.

"What happened?”

“I feel-” he tried to speak, failing, “I feel like I’m drowing.”

“Why? What happened?” he asked again. And then the final hit, “Where's Aelin?"

There was no stopping the first sob. His vision went totally blurry, blackening everything in front of him until all he could see was the image of her, and his chest constricted to the point where breathing was no longer even an option. He fell to the side, against the wall, and there was no stopping the desperate crying that washed over him.

***

It was three days after Aelin had left their home. It was eight o'clock in the evening when Elide and Lorcan had asked him if he would like to go back there after leaving the hospital. It was twenty past eight when they had reached his street and he was counting down the seconds till he got to smell her perfume in the air again.

He had entered the house and tried not to breathe through his nose, realising he was not ready to remember what her scent was. He noticed how everything had been cleaned, tidied up or fixed and he didn't have the mental or physical trength to turn around, hug his friends and thank them.

He looked towards the kitchen, on the table. The letter was no longer there.

"Where is it?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

He hadn't spoken in the last few hours. Not to the couple he knew was staring at him from the doorway.

He'd been forced to answer questions from the doctors, from his coaches asking him how much time he needed. Lorcan had warned him that he'd lied for him, that he'd told them someone dear to them both had suffered a serious injury and died.

Rowan had looked at him and said a simple thank you while he lay on his hospital bed, despite knowing how much a fuckup of that magnitude risked not only his career, but Lorcan's as well.

It was Elide who had the courage to answer him, "What?"

"The letter."

"Oh." she whispered, "I put it in your room."

He nodded. Running a hand over his face he turned to them, noting how they both looked ready to launch themselves forward if they thought Rowan was going to crumble once more time.

He saw Lorcan clench his jaw and then look away before saying, "You won't find any alcohol, I threw away what was left."

Elide smiled at him with watery eyes, trying to change the subject as fast as possible, "If you need anything, you can always come to our place. You know that. We have-"

He interrupted her abruptly. He didn't look at her as he said in a harsh tone, "Thank you for everything, you can go now."

She took a sharp breath, nodding dryly and turning, hurrying out of the house. Lorcan followed her with his gaze the whole time, telling her he would join her in the car in a moment.

When he met Rowan's gaze again, the voice was the one he'd used all the years in high school when he'd been his captain. It gave no room for argument.

"I don't know what you're going through. I don't even want to begin to think about how painful it is to lose someone so important."

She didn’t die, he wanted to say. She left me.

I gave up on her. I don’t deserve her.

The steel mask Rowan was wearing seemed to be already starting to crack. He needed Lorcan to leave before he couldn't control his emotions.

He had already done too much for him.

He didn't deserve any of what they were offering him. He didn’t deserve anything.

"I can hardly imagine what I would do if I were in your position. If Elide-" he paused, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, for what's happening. It's not easy, I understand, but whatever you're doing right now, it's not the solution. Treating me and Elide like this isn't going to drive us away, and before you tell me you don't need anything, let me just say that finding you lying in a pool of your own vomit completely hammered, out of your mind was one of the most horrifying things I've ever had to see." he took a step forward, placing a hand on Rowan's shoulder.

He had the instinct to pull away, but the grip on his jacket tightened, pinning him in place.

"I'm not letting you go, okay? I'm not going to let you throw away your career like this," he told him, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm not going to lecture you about what happened the other day. I know I would have done a lot worse, but you have to promise me that it won't happen again."

Lorcan's voice faltered at last and Rowan was surprised to see his eyes glaze over.

He nodded, his mouth slightly open, shocked at his friend's reaction.

"Promise me."

He hurried to whisper, "I promise."

Lorcan nodded, pulling Rowan to him and hugging him. He closed his eyes as the man in front of him held him together without even realising.

When they pulled away, they pretended not to hear the way they were sniffing, or the tears on both men's cheeks. They said a simple goodbye and then Rowan was alone.

Again.

He climbed the stairs slowly, walking like a dead man down the corridor filled with memories of him carrying Aelin in his arms on that very floor, and when he reached the door to their room, he hesitated.

He brushed against the knob, gripping it in his hand.

He stared at the wood in front of him and felt panic assail him.

Rowan turned on his heel, running for the stairs, the exit, hoping that Lorcan had not already left.

He threw open the door of the ghost-filled house and ran out, intent on never returning.

***

It was two weeks after Aelin left their home. Eleven days since he'd run away in a panic. Ten days since Lorcan had convinced Rowan to go back there, at least to pack up his things.

Nine days since Rowan had destroyed their room, screaming and sobbing as he tore the curtains from the windows and threw what little of her he had left against the wall.

Every ornament, every picture frame.

He'd screamed at Lorcan when he'd tried to stop it.

He hadn't succeeded. Rowan had razed their home to the ground, shattering every happy memory they had created over the years in those four walls.

Only when he'd found Aelin's ring had he stopped, bursting into tears so loud that the first sob had startled Lorcan, holding the small object to his chest.

They had gone back to Lorcan’s, and Elide had stood there looking at him with wide eyes, before running to get the first aid kit to clean the wounds Rowan had caused himself. More or less deep cuts, which his friends said should have been stitched up by actual doctors, but Rowan doubted they wouldn't lock him up in the psychiatric ward if he went to the emergency room for the sixth time in such a short time.

Especially if he came in with shards of glass between his fingers.

He hadn't kept his promise to Lorcan.

He'd drank again. He'd gotten into a couple of fights. He hadn't been back to the rink.

He hadn't skated in a fortnight. Longest period of his life off the ice.

But he couldn't do it.

He couldn't do anything. And it was all his fault.

***

It was three months and one day after Aelin had left their home. He had called Lysandra every day since Lorcan had forced him out of his and Elide's house, finding him a place right outside their team's arena. The woman had never given him any real answers, only reassuring him that Aelin was fine and that he should start moving on, too.

That too had broken something inside of him. The implications that Aelin had found someone else.

He couldn’t even bare being in the same room as another woman knowing they’d all be looking at him trying to get in his pants.

Aelin had always been the only one who wanted him for who he truly was, not his money. Not his status.

She had wished all those things gone so many times.

And she had left him.

He had let her go.

The team had sent a physiotherapist to his house every day for the first month, and then every week, accompanied by a shrink. Rowan had managed to drain them all. One after the other.

He was sure Lorcan had lost all hope too, but he continued undaunted to help him, going to his house every day after practice, without ever missing one day.

Rowan knew that Aelin had called him one night, almost a month before. Lorcan had told him, how she had begged him to tell her that he was alright, even though it wasn't true. His friend had also told him that she'd seemed to be drunk, and when she had hung up and both he and Elide had tried to call her back, Aelin had blocked their numbers.

From what he knew, she'd only unblocked Elide's, but she hadn't given him any kind of information about Aelin and he knew she'd never say anything.

He had hurt her - Elide. Rowan knew he'd treated her like little more than trash, both her and Lorcan, but however much he'd hurt her, it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

He should have felt something for his friends who had given him everything in the last period, but Rowan could not care less than what they had to go through for him.

Now he was waiting for Lorcan, sitting at the table, to show him he was alright. Putting on his daily show and reassuring his friend that everything was going great, he just wasn't ready to skate again yet. The other one would look at him, yell at him a few minutes before walking out of his miserably empty flat slamming the door.

Rowan was just waiting for the day when he wouldn't show up or when he would tell him he wasn't coming, saying goodbye one last time.

He knew it would happen, one way or another, and Rowan didn't know how to stop the mess that had become his life.

That day it wasn't Lorcan who entered his house, but someone else. Rowan opened the door and saw his agent, his team president, and his coaches, along with the athletic trainers.

They had given him an ultimatum.

Either you go back to slacking off after Christmas break or we break your contract, you're off the team and you lose lots of money.

The president had been particularly emphatic on the subject of money, but for Rowan that would be the least important thing.

It wasn't until the evening after New Year's Eve that he had made a decision.

Lysandra, whom he hadn't seen in person in more than two months, had entered his house looking like someone who hadn't slept in years. She had forced him out of bed, shouting at him to wash up, to clean his house. She had made it so Rowan couldn't talk back, never letting him speak, pushing him left and right.

She had taken him outside, something he hadn't done in weeks, so much so that the sun had hurt his eyes for the first two hours. She had forced him to buy new clothes and all the missing furniture in his house.

She had stayed with him for three days.

Three extremely long days in which she had swore at him, insulted him in every possible way imaginable by the human mind. They'd nearly come to blows when she'd touched a sore spot and Rowan had threatened to call Aedion to haul her away.

She'd dragged him to the party Fenrys had thrown for the New Year and for the first time in months, Rowan had smiled.

Elide had started crying when she'd seen him, Lorcan on the verge of tears as well. They had both hugged him and Rowan had begged for their forgiveness.

That night, Rowan thought things would be different for him for the first time.

He'd been wrong.

Again.

***

It was four years and twenty-seven days after Aelin had left their home. Four years since he had received no news of her. Three years since he stopped asking.

Rowan had been zapping through channels for so many hours now that the glaring light of the TV didn't even bother him anymore. His eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the screen, not really looking at the images in front of him. He caught a glimpse of a sentence here and there, ignoring the constant tinkle coming from his phone that warned him that Lorcan still didn't give up on talking to him every day from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep. Even when he was on holiday with his now wife.

They had won yet another cup. The third win in a row.

Sometimes Rowan could hardly believe it.

Three Stanley Cups.

On his dream team.

He should have been excited. No, not excited.

He should have been the happiest man on earth. He should have been out celebrating with his teammates, vacationing on a tropical beach like Lorcan was doing, surrounding himself with girls ready to offer him anything to spend even just one night with him.

But Rowan didn't want to.

Rowan felt nothing – he had not felt anything in the last few years of his life. How did he expect to start now? For a measly win.

He hated hockey. He hated the sport. Hated the fans, his teammates.

He hated his life.

He was about to turn off the TV, confident that he would be able to sleep tonight without the help of the meds the team kept giving him to keep him from collapsing during the games, when his finger froze on the remote.

He didn't know what he was watching, but it seemed to be a channel about gossip, and Rowan felt a pang of anger well up in his chest. It seemed to be the only emotion he still felt from time to time.

Shocked and pissed that someone had felt the need to devote an entire channel to minding other people's business, he stood up, ready to pass out in his cold bed, when the words of the man on the screen stopped him in his tracks.

"And now to the latest news, straight from the social of the Toronto Maple Leafs' rookie player, Chaol Westfall, who has announced his marriage to the stunningly beautiful girlfriend, Aelin Galathynius. She has never been very active on social media, in fact, for somebody with such a charm, she'd be perfect in the role of influencer, but-"

Rowan stopped hearing.

He felt his body's reaction in time, and rushing to the kitchen, he managed to get everything his body was rejecting in the sink. He heaved in there till the last bit of what he’d eaten a few hours ago.

His heart was racing and he had to grip the counter to keep from kneeling on the floor.

That couldn’t be true.

Aelin was getting married.

Aelin was getting married to an hockey player.

The anger blinded him as her words flashed before his eyes.

I can’t do this anymore.

I’m weak. I’m so tired.

This isn’t the life I wanted for us.

I wish I could be your “’till death do us apart”, but I can’t.

The sound that came out of him was not human as he ran to his room and snatched the ring from the drawer next to his bed, the letter that just went wherever he went and raced out of the flat that never felt his own anyway.

***

It was four years and thirty days after Aelin had left their home.

Rowan stood in front of the journalists. Everyone was gaping at him, his teammates on the sidelines were looking his way as if he’d grown three heads.

And he couldn’t blame them, but he had needed to do this a long time ago.

He’d talked to his agents, the team’s president, everyone he had needed to to make this happen and he hadn’t felt such freedom in so long.

The questions just kept on coming and coming and he couldn’t distinguish the words. But he didn’t care.

He only needed to make this statement in front of everyone.

“I’m aware that leaving this team right now is a foolish and completely insane idea, but this world has taken too much from me already. My contract with the Senators ended with this season and I know everyone was expecting me to say which team I’m heading off to, but I’m quitting.

“I should have done this a long time ago and I’m sure the person this is for won’t even see this interview, but I love someone who thought she wasn’t enough for me. She told me four years ago her love wasn’t enough. I’m leaving cause hockey has not been a source of happiness in a very long time and it ruined everything good I ever had.

“I thought I loved playing cause of the adrenaline. The pride in a win. The chills when you score. But no, it wasn't that.”

I loved seeing her smile whenever I scored for her. The way she used to put medications on my wounds and bruises whenever I got hit too hard. Or the way we used to get all cuddled up after a long flight, after weeks of not seeing each other. I loved how my jerseys fit her – the way my clothes fit her.

He turned to his teammates, the people he owned a lot but couldn’t bring himself to care enough of to stay with them, “Being on this team would only make it worse. I’m sorry guys, I hope you can understand. This isn’t what I want right now.”

And right before he could get off the stage that had been set up for him, someone screamed from the crown.

“What are you going to do now?”

He didn’t stop to reply, avoiding everyone’s gazes and keeping on walking until he reached the exit of the arena. The chill air hit him hard as he went out on the street and got on the car.

This was the last time he’d be able to use one of the team’s cars.

The driver looked at him in the mirror, “Where to?”

“The airport, please.”

The man nodded and started the engine and Rowan felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

Hope.

Now, I’m going to get her.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed, just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses @rhysandswingspan

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #lorcan salvaterre #rowaelin month day twelve #angst #tog #throne of glass

112 notes · View notes