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kats-baku1999 · 4 years ago

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Little Lies

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part four

So much angsty shit in this part. Wow. Sorry.

please be cautious there is some VERY SLIGHT mentions of homophobia in this post, if this could be triggering to you in anyway, do not read this okay? take care of yourself <3

(Y/N) and Todoroki agreed they would get pictures at his house before meeting up with their friends. Both sides were nervous, because both sides knew that meant having to meet his family.

Todoroki was not as worried about his brother and sister, or even his brother’s girlfriend. What he was mostly worried about was his father. Things were better between the two of them, but still not perfect. He was still trying to forgive him for things they haven’t spoken about. Like the incident with his mother, or even his estranged older brother.

“Todoroki, you almost look nervous for your girlfriend to show up?” Natsuo smirked at his younger brother, who was currently letting Fuyumi fuss over his tie.

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” Todoroki sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother. After tonight there would be no chance of it ever happening either. Todoroki had tried so hard to stay positive, over trying to convince himself that she would hear him out and forgive him. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, not in the slightest.

When there was a knock on the door, both of his older siblings became overly excited. Meanwhile Todoroki did his best to force a smile, trying to remain calm over the idea that this was it. The girl that used to bother him, and annoy him for no reason, was now the girl he was worried about losing. A few short weeks together, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was his peace. Everything that happened in his life, she was the one who made him smile for that.

That smile faded though when he heard two voices on the other side of the door. He opened it to see his oldest brother, leaning up against the side of the house, smiling at Shoto’s date. They were laughing together. Todoroki’s eyes stayed focused on his date for a second, taking in how absolutely gorgeous she was. He knew he would have to tell her that five hundred times, but right now he couldn’t figure out why Touya was standing on his front porch.

“Ah baby Shoto!” Touya grinned at his little brother, ruffling his hair. Shoto smacked his hand away, glaring at him.

“You decided to dye your hair back to white I see?” Todoroki glared at him, sending a small smile towards a confused looking (Y/N).

“Don’t be rude Shoto, let’s get your pretty little girlfriend inside,” Touya pushed back his little brother, heading towards the dining room. (Y/n) stepped inside the front room, staring up at her date.

“Todoroki, is everything okay?” She smiled, and he felt himself ease up at the sight. He didn’t want to try explaining what was happening. Why this wasn’t just some endearing drop in from an older sibling. How could he tell her all of this now? She was going to hate him by the end of the night.

“Yeah, of course, did your mom not want to come in?” Shoto smiled down at her, gently kissing the top of her head. A blush dusted her cheeks, and she shook her head.

“She had to rush off to work, Touya promised to get pictures of us for her,” She smiled up at him, and caught onto how he instantly tensed back up.

“Yeah, hey Fuyumi set up this whole thing to take pictures in front of, so I am sorry if it is all a little over the top,” Shoto sighed, laughing slightly. His sister insisted that they don’t just take pictures in front of the wall. After all this was the first time she had seen her little brother seem genuinely excited to be with somebody.

“That is the sweetest thing, at least we will have some nice pictures, Bakugo’s cranky ass will probably ruin the group ones,” (Y/N) laughed, linking her arm with Shoto’s arm. They walked towards the dining room, where everyone was waiting. Except for Shoto’s parents, which (Y/N) quickly became curious about. Touya was leaned back in a chair, his legs propped up against the table, still just smirking at his little brother. His other siblings seemed tense now too, looking at one another. Natsuo smiled at (y/n) brightly, and walked over with Fuyumi to shake her hand.

“We are so excited to meet you!” Fuyumi grinned, shaking the girls hand a little too excitedly, “Shoto has done nothing but talk about you since you two started studying together,”

“Wow, she is a lot prettier than the last one too,” Natsuo smiled at his little brother, who shot him another eye roll, smirking slightly.. The smirk soon turned into a full on grin once he saw the triumphant smile that was on her face thanks to the comment.

“Where are your parents?” (Y/n) looked over at Shoto, who went stiff for the fifteenth time since he opened the front door. Fuyumi let out an awkward cough, and a nervous laugh.

“Dad got caught up at work, he says to be a perfect gentleman, and I am supposed to send him pictures,” Fuyumi smiled happily, but it quickly turned into a frown once there was hysterical laughter coming from behind her. Touya had his head leaned back, chuckling loudly.

“Oh that’s the act he is following now right?” Touya’s comment made all of the Todoroki siblings tense up this time. Natsuo shot his older brother a dirty look, and shook his head slowly. Touya held up his hands in defense, before making a motion like he was zipping his lips.

“Well, let’s take some pictures so you two aren’t late to meet your friends!” Fuyumi changed the topic, or at least tried her best to. Touya then stood up from his seat, walking over to Todoroki and (Y/N), smiling at the pair.

“Why don’t you let your big brother hop in one picture?” Touya smirked, going to stand in front of the back drop that Fuyumi had created. Shoto led (Y/N) over, and made sure to put himself in between the two of them, “Maybe we can print it off to send it to Mom in your next letter Shoto, or are the doctors letting her have a phone now?”

Shoto quickly shot his brother a dirty look. Just as Fuyumi clicked to take the picture, (Y/N) looked over at the pair. She felt a little guilty, she hadn’t known Todoroki’s mother was sick, if she was with doctors?

“Your mom is sick?” (Y/N) frowned, and earned a panicked look from her date. Touya leaned over, shaking his head. His grip was tight around his little brother’s shoulder.

“No, she is probably quite well, but dear old Dad got her locked up after she burned his favorite child’s face,” Touya said it so calmly, but the energy in the room quickly shifted. Even Natsuo’s girlfriend seemed a little shocked, looking over at her boyfriend. (Y/N) looked up at Shoto, staring at his scar. His mom did that to him? The one time they had had a discussion about it, he said that it was an accident.

“Touya,” Fuyumi hissed, looking between her older and younger brother. She was expecting some kind of fight to break out, just like the last time the oldest Todoroki son had come. Shoto smacked his brother’s hand off his shoulder, before grabbing (Y/n)’s hand. She gave a small wave to his siblings, as she was dragged out of the room, and then out of the house.

Todoroki walked her over to his car, opening the door for her. Of course Touya had to show up just to ruin this. He knew that as soon as Fuyumi had put some status up, with a picture of him getting ready, that the oldest sibling would do everything he could to ruin it. There was always some kind of tension between the pair of them, even before Shoto could understand why. After all Endeavor had practically pitted them against each other, without even intending too. Shoto had tried reaching out to his older brother, but Touya wanted nothing to do with him. Then after Endeavor and Touya’s falling out, there was no hope.

The car ride was eerily silent, even with the music playing through the speakers. Shoto was gripping the steering wheel, tapping his fingers impatiently at a red light. He was hoping with everything in him that she wouldn’t ask questions, but it was (Y/N) and she worried about people. She was constantly fussing over everybody, like the days Kirishima’s hair has gotten too long and his roots are coming through. She knows he doesn’t want his natural hair to show through, she is quickly asking when they need to go to the store to buy his hair dye. She also has the tendency to ask her friends if they had eaten that day, especially when Bakugo and Midoriya are talking about some stupid lifting competition they want to have with one another. Shoto knew she had no intentions of just leaving this alone, and he was right.

“Are you going to explain any of that to me, or do I need to take a few guesses?” (Y/N) whispered gently, Todoroki could only reply by letting out a small sigh. He pulled into a parking lot of some convenience store. They still had an hour before they had to meet up with the others.

“Neither of my parents are bad people,” Todoroki whispered looking over at the girl, his voice a little shaken, “My father has made some questionable mistakes, and was negligent towards my mother and my siblings, he was obsessed with becoming the best in his profession,”

“In return, my mother had some issues she had to work through, and she had reached her breaking point, I had caught her in the middle of a breakdown, and she ended up pouring hot water on my face,” Todoroki sighed, reaching up to touch his scar, “I told you once that it was an accident, and it was, but my father still had her admitted to the hospital,”

“She is still there?” (Y/n) questioned, and Todoroki nodded sadly.

“She doesn’t believe that she is ready to leave yet, and still has plenty of healing to do,” Todoroki tried his best to force a smile, “My old man is trying his best too, we have all been talking about possibly doing group sessions together soon, to discuss everything that happened,”

“Shoto, I am so sorry,” (Y/n) frowned, reaching her hand over to grab his shaking ones, “What is the issue with your oldest brother then?”

“What isn’t an issue with him?” Todoroki smiled slightly at her use of his first name, “He was my dad’s pride and joy before I came along, and then for some reason my father fixated on me, and began ignoring him along with my other siblings, it caused some big rift between us all,”

“Then Touya turned nineteen, started dating some guy, and sadly my father was still an absolute asshole at the time, he flipped out on Touya for potentially ruining the family image, and called him some pretty terrible names,” (Y/N)’s jaw fell a little bit, no wonder he seemed so mad. Still though, the way he took it out on Shoto..

“He targets me because he isn’t man enough to target Dad head on yet,” He answered her unasked question, and she just nodded sadly. Trying her best to not look at him with pity, she knew that wasn’t what he wanted right now.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to explain this all to me,” She smiled at him, kissing the back of his hand. He looked her face over a few times, feeling his heart twist up at the fact that she was so sincere. That she cared so much. The one time he tried talking to Momo about this, she completely blew him off about it. Shoto grabbed the sides of her face, pulling her into a kiss. Usually he would do something cheeky, and try and take it to the other level.. This time though, he was soft, gentle, and nothing but passion resonated throughout the kiss.

His way of telling her thank you for listening to him.

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“You damn slowpokes you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!” Bakugo was standing outside of Kirishima’s yelling at the pair of them as they walked up.. The kiss had inevitably turned into the pair of them making out in the front seat of his car. Todoroki had to force himself to stop though, because he knew where she was trying to take it judging by the fact she had tried climbing on him.. He hated that he had to stop it.

“We got caught up, stop yelling,” Todoroki smiled at Bakugo as they stepped onto Kirishima’s front porch. Bakugo pointed a finger at a bit of lipstick that Todoroki had forgotten to wipe off his neck.

“Nasty,” He smirked, earning a middle finger from his friend. (Y/N) just laughed, before reaching forward to pull down the collar of his shirt, revealing a few hickey’s along his collarbone.

“So that’s why you call Kirishima Sharky?” (Y/N) smirked, and Bakugo smacked her hand away. His cheeks turning bright red, it was his turn to flip them off. He sulked back inside, yelling to everybody that they had finally arrived.

Kirishima walked over happily, hugging his best friend, and shaking Todoroki’s hand. Ochaco let out an excited squeal and ran over to the pair, hugging her friends. The only person who seemed off was Midoriya, who would barely look at his two best friends. He was gentle when hugging (Y/N), shooting Todoroki a knowing look. Todoroki frowned, nodding his head. Trying to let his friend know that he knew what he needed to do. The rest of the time they were taking pictures felt forced, and everyone could feel the obvious tension between the “Three Musketeers”.

When they finally arrived at the dance, it only took a few songs before (Y/n) had Todoroki dancing. He hated it a little bit, but he enjoyed watching her smile.

Finally a slow song came on, and he couldn’t help but grin. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but he had been waiting to sway with her to some slow song. He wasn’t even sure what the song was, he just pulled his date in by her hips. Smiling brightly when her face instantly began to blush, but she was quick to connect her hands on the back of his neck. Her eyes darted around the room, embarrassed to make eye contact. Todoroki didn’t like that, so he placed his forehead against hers, gaining her full attention. When he pulled back a little bit he took in the entire moment, watching how her (y/e/c) eyes scanned his entire face.

“I am happy I agreed to tutor you,” (Y/n) whispered quietly, and the taller boy nodded his head slowly.

“I am happy I asked you to tutor me,” He whispered back, leaning down to kiss her gently. (Y/n) grabbed a few pieces of his hair at the bottom of his neck, pulling herself more into him. Todoroki broke away a little too soon for her liking, once again telling himself he had to stop before it went too far.

“I want to do this, you know that right?” She smirked up at him, and he just nodded his head. The song ended, and he needed to get away from this situation. The guilt began to fill his entire body.

“I am going to grab some punch, I will be right back okay?” Todoroki quickly walked away, towards the refreshment table. Kirishima was watching the pair of them, and kissed Bakugo’s cheek before going to dance with his best friend.

Todoroki watched Kirishima dramatically swing her arms around as they bounced to the song blaring through the speakers. Then everything began to move in slow motion. Kaminari had walked up the pair of them, smiling at them both. Then he began talking, and the two of them stopped smiling. He continued talking and Kirishima shot a look Todoroki's direction and then towards his boyfriend. (Y/n)’s entire body seemed to go ridgid, and she slowly turned to look at Todoroki. He dropped his cup when they made eye contact, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Kirishima dragged her away from the crowds of people. Bakugo looked towards Todoroki and they followed after the pair of them. Ochaco and Midoriya had been watching the entire scene, and they followed close behind. Todoroki was practically running through the halls, and found Kirishima and (Y/N) in the parking lot. Kirishima was helping her into his car. When he saw the group walking towards him he quickly walked up to Todoroki, and shoved him back.

“You piece of shit,” Kirishima screamed, and (Y/n) climbed out of the passenger seat of the car and walked up to the scene. Bakugo put his hand on his boyfriend’s chest, trying to stop him from going after Todoroki again.

“E, please don’t do this,” Kirishima smacked Bakugo’s hand off of him.

“You had something to do with this too!” Kirishima shouted, getting in Bakugo’s face, “Do you want to explain this fucking bet you had with him about MY friend?!”

Bakugo looked terrified. Usually he wouldn’t let anybody talk to him in that way, but he couldn’t even process what was happening. Kirishima had never yelled at him before.

“Kirishima can we please just go,” (Y/n) finally spoke up, her voice shaking. Todoroki looked back towards her, his heart breaking at the look on her face.

“(Y/N) please, just let me explain,” Todoroki pleaded, stepping forward. She looked back towards him, and shook her head.

“I don’t want to hear about your bet,” She whispered, her voice cracking completely, “You are exactly who I thought you were,”

“No, look listen, when Bakugo and I made that bet I never expected that you would actually be this way, I saw you as some annoying girl who hated me,” Todoroki was frantic trying to explain himself, “Now you’re somebody I can trust, somebody I want around, please I wouldn’t have told you the things I did on the way here if that weren’t the honest truth,”

“You are a liar!” She shouted, tears finally falling down her face. Midoriya rushed over to her, pulling her into a hug. Ochaco was confused by the entire scene, going to the other side of her boyfriend. Kirishima and Bakugo were staring at one another, Bakugo’s mouth cracking open slightly to begin speaking.

“Save it, you knew how much she meant to me, you knew who she was and you still let your best pal use her as some kind of game,” Kirishima growled, “I am done, with both of you.”

(Y/N) looked at Todoroki, tears still streaming down her face. Todoroki couldn’t do anything but stare back at her. Trying to find any of the words to say. (Y/n) shook her head slowly, and turned around to walk to the car. All he wanted to do was scream for her, yell anything to get her to stop. There was nothing he could say though, he had hurt her. This was the outcome he had deserved, and he should have seen it coming.

After all, he was his father’s child.

#todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #mha #dabi is touya #touya #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #izuku midoriya #slight kiribaku #this is so sad #I am sorry for this

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canvas-the-florist · 3 years ago

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Not Very Realistic

Ships: platonic prinxiety, platonic logince,

Warnings: Car accident, injuries, PTSD, swearing, food mention,

Summary: Roman considers his feelings about his car accident. This is basically a vent fic about a car accident I was just in, I’m okay, but that does mean it will be extremely full of angst and if that’s not your thing I wouldn’t recommend this specific story. AO3 Link

Word Count: 2.5K

There’s something weird about trauma that Roman just didn’t understand. He knew that logically, that the car had crashed, but he wasn’t a very logical person. Even looking at the wreckage in full, talking about what happened to his family, part of him still refused to believe that none of it had happened. Despite looking at the cuts showing blood on his hands were right there as evidence. None of this felt real, but it was. How does he deal with that?

Roman ran his hands through his hair. It had been a few hours. His arm had gotten washed up. He was completely fine, except for a few bruises around his fingers. But was he fine? Roman had stopped crying a while ago and mostly just felt denial. Thoughts in the back of his mind were whispering ‘you wouldn’t crash a car, you wouldn’t make that kind of mistake’ and ‘you didn’t even break a bone, car accidents are worse than that.’ They were silenced when Roman breathed in, almost believing he smelt the smoke. Everything should have been fine, but he had gone and messed it up. He didn’t want to, he genuinely thought that things were going to be okay.

But they weren’t, and they aren’t.

It had been a few hours since the accident. Roman felt like he should be more phased. A car accident was an extremely traumatic event that he had experienced that same day! And all he could think about was the fact he couldn’t remember what it felt like. Roman knew what happened before; He was trying to make a turn on a green light and didn’t see the other car. And he also knew what happened after; calling Patton in a panic because he made a mistake he forgot that can just happen to anyone. Roman remembered the police officers and his family rushing to him, asking him what had happened, only for him to choke out that he didn’t know. He laid back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Realistically, he had been extremely lucky and he knew that. Car related accidents kill so many people every day. And he just spent one afternoon watching his car getting towed before going home without saying anything.

Logan said that it wasn’t productive to think about how past events could’ve better played out. But, Roman wasn’t a logical person. He couldn’t help but imagine it. Replaying how he reacted. He could’ve been looking better, he could’ve registered how the fucking rules of the road work. Hell, he could’ve been quieter instead complaining about whatever song Virgil was playing on bluetooth. He rolled over to the side that was less hurt and took a breath.

Virgil. He bit the inside of his cheek. This entire event wasn’t okay, and was absolutely Roman’s fault. Virgil shouldn’t have been stuck with the consequences of someone else’s actions. Roman’s thoughts helpfully reminded him that he had been in an accident, something that his brain decided to forget to process once more. Roman felt so incredibly guilty for all the pain he put everyone in. He knew that he was hurt too, but did that matter? It was all his fault, anyways.

The door creaked open and Roman heard someone clear their throat. Roman looked up to see the other victim of the car accident. Virgil seemed tired and awkward in the doorway. “Logan made food. Said eating and drinking water can help with the effects of everything.”

“Okay,” The way his voice croaked out the word sounded like Roman’s mouth forgot how to form words and he hadn’t had water for a decade. He cringed at the sound of it. Roman started to say something, an apology maybe? But Virgil started closing the door. So he whispered another sentence. “I’ll be right out.”

Time and time throughout the day Roman could go from joking about what had happened, to feeling bad about it, to almost completely forgetting about it entirely. He felt weirdly guilty about his own emotions about it. Like he wasn’t reacting necessarily as he should. Roman couldn’t even tell how he felt about it all, he was just tired. Too much had happened and his body was tired of experiencing all these things. So it wasn’t, not properly anyway.

By the time the sun had set, Roman was sitting outside, watching the clouds go by, not really putting any effort into thinking. And still his mind was bombarding him with fear, pain, and guilt. So much guilt to the person in the other car, and to Virgil, who had to experience it with him. Mostly he felt guilty to everyone around him for having to deal with it because he was too busy being sorry that he couldn’t move or breathe. He wasn’t crying anymore, and his breathing was fine. But it didn’t feel like that. Should he be in more pain? Is that something that he deserves? If you’re going to wreck a car, why go for the simplest way to do it? Car crashes feel like a very dramatic experience so why does Roman feel underwhelmed?

Everything was too much or too little for his brain and Roman wasn’t sure how to handle it. He held himself with his arms, wondering why this had to happen. If he hadn’t been overly ambitious for once, this wouldn’t have happened. Right?

“How are you feeling, Roman?” Logan asked him. Roman had almost completely forgotten that he was there. Roman blinked and gave a huge smile.

“Well, specs, can’t say that I planned for any of this to happen.” Roman shrugged, his smile dropping as he looked down. His arms loosened up. Logan nodded, like he wanted Roman to open up about everything. Or maybe just to show that he was listening. “I was so sure that I wasn’t going to get hurt. Which isn’t true and I know that. Everyone can get hurt, I was caught up in some sort of main protagonist complex that I didn’t even realize that my mistakes matter. I fucked up and I don’t know if I can move on. My brain isn’t even letting me confirm that it happened, despite me knowing that it did. I blinked and the car was full of smoke.”

Roman laughed bitterly, and Logan furrowed his eyebrows in concern, but didn’t say anything. “I didn’t even register what had happened until Virgil told me to get out of the car. I truly don’t believe that I would’ve moved without him. Which is pathetic. I caused that accident but Virgil had to take charge of the situation because my brain wasn’t able to process it. And now I don’t know how I’m going to react to having to drive again! What if I fuck up and this time it’s even worse? None of this feels okay but I don’t know what to do…”

“Do you want advice?” Logan asked, calmly.

He decided to nod, focusing on trying not to cry instead of speaking.

“Alright. I believe that some of your thinking is similar to the cognitive distortion called ‘catastrophic thinking’. Catastrophic thinking is when after a person experiences a traumatic event starts reacting to every possible danger at the same level of the event they experienced. This is because it takes away the thinking that you’re constantly safe and not going to get hurt, so your brain is trying to make you feel safer by taking your ability to EVER get put into danger, which is not something that you can avoid.” Logan took a breath and stopped to make sure that Roman was still following. He was looking down at his fiddling hands, repopping his fingers repetitively. “You’re going to have to slowly break through this habit of thinking by giving yourself alternatives that aren’t just ‘safe’ or ‘dangerous’ because that is not how the world functions.”

Roman nodded, mostly to himself while Logan was talking. “Okay.” His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be but he was too tired to attempt to change that. Roman stood up shakily, not from the accident, but from his own fear enveloping his head. “Thanks Logan, I mean that, I really appreciate this. I’m going to try going to bed now.”

“Of course, Roman.” Logan responded, as Roman opened the backdoor back to the inside. He made no attempt to move, just watching his friend walk away from his sight. “I am here for you whenever you need me.”

As the door closed, Roman could see that the sky had gone dark as the sun disappeared.

Virgil had apparently decided to check on Roman one last time before going to bed. If him walking in after knocking a few times meant anything that is. Roman made eye contact with Virgil, wondering if that was going to be the end of their friendship. He would completely understand if it was, seeing as how badly everything had gone. Roman took a deep breath and got ready for any chastising that could occur.

“Princey?” He tensed up, waiting for Virgil to finish. “Are you okay? Today was… a lot.”

Oh, huh. “I mean, not really, but that doesn’t matter as much. How are you feeling? It wasn’t your fault that the whole thing happened. I’m so sorry.”

“Dude, I know you’re sorry.” Virgil stated, sitting on the bed next to Roman. “I didn’t ask about that. I know you didn’t mean to crash a car, that isn’t your thing. And the question was kind of a formality anyways. I just wanted to know if you were open to talking about it.”

Roman groaned. “All I’ve DONE today is talk about it. It’s the only thing in my head and my brain is still trying to convince me that it didn’t happen.” He fell backwards onto the bed, while Virgil watched him without a readable expression. “It’s all so much but also just… Just not. Y’know?”

“Yes,” Virgil said plainly. “I do know. Believe it or not, I was there. And I don’t blame you, man. You made a mistake. One that might traumatize us, but I’m not going to hold that against you. We’re both equally messed up here.”

The two laughed, and Virgil laid down next to Roman. Roman took a breath, something he wasn’t able to do when talking to the police. While looking at the ceiling he decided to think out loud. “Can you believe how many people honked at us when we got out of the car? I mean I know it was in the middle of an intersection but also the car was like half destroyed. The audacity is unreal.” He vaguely remembered hearing some of those cars stop to call 911, and the words of what they said echoing in his mind.

Virgil rolled his eyes dramatically. “I know. Two cars, one on the sidewalk and the other in the road after the car crash, how dare we be focused on other things than what everyone else needs to get done? I’m actually surprised how well we held it together for a while, before we both started crying on the concrete, at least.”

The room stayed silent for a while, both of them still processing what happened to them. Roman was tired of every moment of silence being interrupted with thoughts of the accident. He remembered yelling out as soon as he saw the other car and it was too late. One moment they were going to go shopping, and the next he blinked to see the airbags and smoke coming from everywhere. When Patton, Logan, and Remus arrived he was sobbing apologies into their shoulders, wanting to believe that none of this was real. It certainly didn’t feel like it. Roman wiped off the tears that were starting to form and looked at Virgil.

“How do we move on from this? This is just… So much.” Roman asked. Virgil had been in a few car accidents as a child, some better and some worse. Still traumatic.

“Well,” He started. “It took a while, and I mostly associated the fear of being in a car to the exact situation I was in. Like an icy road or something. But this just… happened. And there’s nothing we can do to change that. We… I don’t know what we’ll do, but we can figure it out.”

Roman tried not to look discontented. “That’s not exactly as well thought out as I would like, I kind of just want to move on. How can I focus on the future when every other thought is reminding me that we could have died?! We could have killed that person and our future and their future would have been ruined. I should’ve waited, I should’ve looked, I should’ve-!” He sat up, and Virgil soon followed. Roman wasn’t crying but he looked like he was about to. Virgil held his arm and he fell limp onto the side of his friend. “I just wish it didn’t happen at all.”

“No one wanted it to happen,” Virgil muttered. “It just did, and we have to accept that.”

“I don’t want to,” Roman complained weakly. “None of this is fair.”

There was no arguing that, and both of them knew it. Time kept passing by while the two considered everything. The topic could get distracted or happy, but eventually it would lead back to the car wreck. Evidently, it was going to be on their minds for a long time. Roman didn’t exactly enjoy the fact he couldn’t automatically move on, but tried to take what everyone had else said to heart. It was okay to acknowledge that the accident sucked without letting it control him, however long that took. Virgil left the room to sleep and suggested aggressively that Roman should do the same. He didn’t even notice that it was late until it was pointed out to him.

Lights were turned out, and Roman curled up in a fetal position under his blankets. He still felt kind of sore, more so than he did a few hours earlier. That also wasn’t fair, but whatever. Roman was supposed to be accepting things, so he could start healing. He moved around to try and get comfortable with little success.

Trauma was weird to Roman. One moment everything was fine until it wasn’t. One moment you could be having an entire mental breakdown over a small mistake with big consequences, and the next you’re under the covers like nothing had happened. But all of this was normal, and he was allowed to be like this. Allowed to react to the events that occurred. It would take a long time, and maybe that was okay too.

Taglist: @ghost-in-haunting @logan-sanders-enthusiast @imjustvibingyaknow @hailcap85 @brilliant-and-a-bit-mad

#car accident #food mention #sanders sides #roman sanders #roman centric #sanders sides fanfiction #emile writes #fake shitpost #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sander #remus sanders #police mention #ao3 #not very realistic

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years ago

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Forever

Summary: Logan knew it was just a matter of time before Remy left him. There was only so much one person could give before they needed something in return, and Remy was going to hit that breaking point sooner or later. Remy just wished Logan could see how much he was giving them. Content: Blind!Logan, insecurities/self-worth issues in relation to being blind, mentions of becoming blind, fear of being dumped, crying, hurt/comfort, happy ending, nb!Remy Pairing: Romantic losleep Notes: Written in @emo-disaster‘s blind logan au- I suggest you read their stuff before this, though technically this fic can stand alone. Also, I’m not blind, and my knowledge of living life blind is pretty limited, so!! if there are any inaccuracies in this fic please let me know and I’ll do my best to remedy them!

It had been months since what Remy had taken to calling ‘the accident.’ Logan had his own name for it, but Remy said it was too long and not good for his mental health, so Logan tried to avoid thinking of it as ‘the completely preventable accident that changed everything and stole away the stars’ and just referred to it by Remy’s name for it.

Logan was adjusting. He was learning how to use a cane to get around and getting fairly good at it. He had learned braille. He could move about his and Remy’s house independently. He could do a lot of things independently now.

That didn’t, however, make Logan independent, and he couldn’t help but be bothered by it.

At first, the only thing he was bothered by was how useless he felt. He hated how much he had to rely on Remy to do things that used to be mundane and commonplace. Remy was amazing, of course, and Logan couldn’t ask for anyone better to help him, but that comfort only helped so much.

Eventually, however, he got used to it. It was survival of the fittest, after all- he was in a new situation, he had to adapt. And if adapting was letting Remy help walk him around the house until he got better with his cane and memorizing floor layouts, then that was what Logan would do.

As soon as he had accepted that, however, a new problem ‘reared its ugly head’ in Logan realizing just how much of a burden he had become. Remy would never let Logan call himself that, Logan knew, but it couldn’t stop him from feeling like one.

Remy seemed to always be there when Logan needed them, whether to help him with something or even to just take a break and relax with him. Not to mention, Remy had quit their job for Logan- they said that they could freelance program just as well, that they preferred the new flexibility in their life because of it anyways, but Logan knew that was just a cover. Without a stable job, Remy had no benefits, no insurance or medical plans, no promise of a paycheck. Until Logan found a job- a new one; the accident may have been the byproduct of his own foolish past times, but that didn’t mean he felt chemist was really the job for him anymore- Remy was the sole provider for the both of them, working a job with no guarantees just so they’d be there if Logan needed them.

And Logan… well, he was getting better at not knocking things over when he tried to perform basic tasks.

Suffice to say, he felt pretty useless. Useless and… confused. Remy was doing so much work, all of it for Logan’s sake, but they were just… boyfriends. Dating. Not married, not engaged, not bound together by any real promise or law. It had to be easier, Logan thought, to just dump him so that they could move on with their life.

He had decided, after a bit of thinking, that Remy was just waiting for a good time to dump him. Dumping someone right after they lost their eyesight would be rude, and even if they weren’t going to keep dating, Logan was sure he and Remy would still be friends. Remy probably just wanted to help Logan adjust to his new life before informing him that there was no way they were going to work now. And while Logan did appreciate the sentiment, waiting for that day to come, for the figurative other shoe to drop, was becoming a tense activity.

Because as logical as he knew the action would be, for Remy to dump him and move on, therefore allowing them to continue to live their life unburdened of Logan, Logan still feared the day it would come. He loved Remy, after all, and even if the break-up would be better for them, Logan knew he would miss them, miss cuddling with them and sassing with them and hearing them call him ‘starshine’ and the smell of coffee that always hung about them.

But it would be better for them. So as much as Logan hated the thought of it, he knew it had to happen. And he knew he would be alright, eventually, as long as he could remember that, even if Remy wasn’t his anymore, they’d be happier.

Which is how he had ended up here. He was sitting in one of the dining room chairs, his feet lifted up and balancing on top of the base rungs of it to avoid putting his feet down into milk or ceramic. It had been an accident, of course. He hadn’t meant to accidentally hit the side of his mug of milk too hard when he was trying to pick it back up, he hadn’t meant to forget just where it was on the counter in the first place. But he had, and it had fallen and broken, and Remy had still shown up and refused to let Logan try and clean it up, and it was still all his fault that Remy was busy cleaning the floor of Logan’s mistake instead of working.

Of course, Logan was getting better about this. Mistakes like this one didn’t happen often. But they still happened. And it was still always Remy fixing them.

“Why are we still together?” Logan asked, regretting it as soon as the words made it out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Just because he knew Remy was going to break up with him didn’t mean he wanted to make it happen any sooner. But words said couldn’t be taken back, and Logan knew both he and Remy had been thinking them much too long anyways. Might as well put it out in the open.

Logan didn’t have to see Remy to know they had stopped cleaning, to know they were looking at Logan now, to know they were tilting their head and furrowing their brow. “What?” They said, voice quiet and confused.

Logan tugged on his fingers, not bothering to hide the nervous action. “Why are we still together?” He repeated, because surely Remy must’ve missed the question, because this was really the perfect moment to end it, to end them, and if they knew what Logan had said they would’ve already taken their chance-

Logan’s hands were suddenly in Remy’s, his boyfriend apparently now in front of him. Their grip was gentle but firm, and for a brief moment Logan wished they were holding him instead so that he could melt into that grip. “Because I love you.” Remy said, simply, as if that was all there was to it, as if that was an answer and an explanation all wrapped up in one.

“So?” Logan asked, hating himself more even as he did. He loved Remy too, so much, and they didn’t deserve to have their love met with ‘so.’ But Remy could love again, could love someone better, love someone who didn’t need to constantly be cared for. “You can love someone else.”

“I don’t want to love someone else, darling.” Remy responded, pain and worry now colouring their words. “I’m happy just as I am, right here, loving you.”

Logan shook his head. “No you aren’t.” He said miserably.

Thumbs rubbed over the back of Logan’s hands, the gesture likely meant to be reassuring. “What makes you say that?”

“You can’t be happy like this. Helping me with… helping me with everything. Paying for everything. Doing everything.” Logan told them, squeezing Remy’s hands in lieu of being able to squeeze his own. “And you can’t… you can’t love a burden.”

Remy squeezed Logan’s hands back, and Logan could tell from the grip it wasn’t just reassurance, wasn’t just a reminder that Remy was there. It was a reaction of surprise; probably surprise that Logan had called them out so easily. It was kind of them to say they were happy and all, but… Logan would rather they be actually happy than they try to be happy in a place where they couldn’t be.

But then Remy spoke, tone urgent and tight as if they needed Logan to hear whatever they had to say. “You’re wrong, beloved. Completely wrong.”

“Remy-”

“You’re not a burden. Gods, Lo, you could never be a burden to me.” Remy said fiercely, one hand releasing Logan’s and resting on his cheek instead. “I love you. I’m happy with you.”

“For how long?” Logan asked, his voice breaking as he spoke. Everything about Remy’s voice and words screamed real, but even if Remy still loved him now, Logan knew it couldn’t last.

“I- Forever. Logan, I’m going to love you forever.” Remy replied, both of their hands now on Logan’s cheeks.

Logan reached up, hands finding Remy’s wrists and holding onto them. He wasn’t sure if his eyes had been open before then or not, but they were squeezed shut now as he forced his tears not to fall. “It can’t last. You’ve already given up so much for me… you can’t keep giving forever. You’ll tire of it and then you’ll tire of me and you won’t love me anymore, no matter what you say.”

For a moment, there was silence. Logan wished he could see Remy’s face, see what they were thinking, what they were feeling, but it was the reason why he couldn’t that had gotten them there in the first place.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Remy said. It wasn’t a question.

Logan nodded and the grip on his cheeks increased, even though it was still gentle. He let out a small sigh. He was going to miss this.

“I love you, starshine, and that’s not changing anytime soon.” Remy reiterated, voice soft. They pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead, one just as gentle as their tone. “I just finished a project. Do you want to cuddle and listen to Big Hero 6?”

They’re avoiding the subject. Logan thought, his metaphorical heart falling. That meant… Remy knew what he was saying was true. They knew that, one of these days, it was all going to fall apart. Logan took it as a small win that they were distressed enough by the thought they were avoiding it, however. That meant that, for however long it would last, Remy did love him. Logan could work with that. He could cherish that.

“Don’t you have to finish picking up my mug?” Logan asked. He hated to bring it up, a reminder of just another reason why they weren’t going to work out, but a slippery floor with ceramic shards was more of a hazard than it had ever been for him before. It was for the best that it was cleaned completely.

“It’s already taken care of, hun, don’t worry.” Remy told him, moving their hands from Logan’s cheeks to hold his hands instead, helping him to his feet. They let go of one of Logan’s hands, clearly intending to let him lead the way to their bedroom, but Logan stepped closer to them and pressed himself into their side. He wasn’t sure how many more of these moments he’d be able to get, and he wanted to make the most of every one.

Without hesitation, Remy slipped an arm around Logan’s shoulders, holding him close. They still held one of his hands as well, starting off towards the bedroom at a pace that was steady and consistent, making it easy for Logan to match their stride.

They broke apart when they reached their bedroom, Logan moving to settle on the bed while Remy (presumably) saved out of their work and closed their laptop. Barely a minute passed before Remy was back, pulling Logan down so that his head was resting in their lap, already starting to play with Logan’s hair as they turned on the movie. Logan tried to focus on the niceness of the moment and not how much he’d miss it.

Because he would miss it, would miss the light scrape of Remy’s nails against Logan’s scalp as they convince him to relax, would miss Remy’s warmth as they held him close to them, would miss the sound of Remy lightly humming until the movie started and sometimes even when it was playing. He would miss Remy.

But while he was missing Remy, Remy would be free and happy. And if the choice was happiness without Logan or Logan without happiness, well…

If you love something, let it go.

“Remy, why are we here?”

“You’ll see babe, you’ll see. Er. You’ll understand.”

Logan ignored Remy’s slip of tongue. It was just an expression, and Logan had far more important things to worry about than phrasing that was technically inaccurate.

For example, why he and Remy were at the beach.

Remy had, of course, told Logan where they were going before they left, but Logan could’ve guessed where they were even if they hadn’t. He could hear waves lapping on the shore, and the smell of saltwater was still very recognizable. None of that answered why they were at the beach, but Logan figured it was nice to at least know where he was.

Remy bumped their arm against Logan’s, allowing him to take it if he so pleased, and Logan accepted the offer of help gratefully. He felt secure enough in his skills with a cane to get around by himself, but he hadn’t exactly attempted to navigate a beach yet.

Still providing no explanations, Remy began to move forward, their grip on Logan’s hand gentle but firm as they walked. Though Logan was careful to not go too fast, he found the sand to be less of a challenge to traverse than he thought. He still didn’t let go of Remy’s hand, however.

Logan stopped when Remy did, guessing from the sound and smell that they were now standing right on the shore. He poked his guide stick forward, suspicion confirmed by the small splash noise that was made when his stick hit ground again.

“Do you mind taking your shoes off, love?” Remy asked after a moment of them just standing there in silence, both enjoying the moment in their own way. On old instinct, Logan turned towards Remy, hoping his confusion showed on his face. It must have, because Remy chuckled before adding, “I’ll explain in a minute, I promise.”

Though he was confused, Logan did as Remy asked, using their arm to support himself as he tugged off his shoes. Having not put on socks (also at Remy’s request), Logan tried not to shudder at the texture of sand directly against his feet. It wasn’t a bad texture, just an odd one. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt it.

Logan dropped his shoes next to him. “Now what?” He asked, curious as to where all of this was going to.

He wasn’t expecting Remy to squeeze his hand and ask him, surprisingly seriously, “Can you feel the sand beneath your feet?”

“Can I-” Logan shook his head, more puzzled than he had been a moment ago. “Of course I can, Remy. My eyes are damaged, not my nervous system.”

“I know, babe, don’t worry. Just asking.” Remy said, which cleared nothing up for Logan. Remy tugged just a little bit on Logan’s arm, prompting him forward. “Step forward with me?”

Logan did so, only shivering a little as he stepped into the cold water. Despite the chill, the feel of the water around his feet and lapping at his ankles was nice.

“Can you feel the water?” Remy asked, once more prompting Logan to turn towards them, as if facing them would help Logan read them.

“Yes, I can.” Logan answered, still confused, now waiting for Remy to provide him with an explanation.

A breeze blew by. “Can you feel the wind in your hair?” Remy asked as it happened. Logan nodded. “Can you feel the sun on your skin?” Logan nodded again, the feeling of sun-warmed skin plenty familiar.

Remy tightened their grip on Logan’s hand. “Can you feel my touch?” They asked, their voice sounding slightly wrong, half a pitch too high.

Logan squeezed their hand back. “Of course I can, Andromeda.” Logan told them, the old but beloved petname rolling off his tongue before he could stop it. He had been trying to use less of them recently, to make the inevitable transition from dating to being single easier, but something about Remy seemed to be off, and it would always be Logan’s first reaction to try and help Remy when something was wrong.

Remy let out a small laugh at the petname, but Logan knew the reaction was a fond one, and he didn’t need to see Remy to know they were smiling now, a small but sappy expression that Logan intended to never forget.

There was a rustling noise as Remy moved, and a moment later their free hand was gently getting Logan to let go of his guide stick, leaving it to hang off his wrist instead. Hand now empty, Remy left his hand so that it was open and palm-up before pressing something into it and curling Logan’s fingers around it.

“Can you feel that?” Remy asked, their voice still a little off but almost in a good way, as if they were borderline giddy or trying not to be excited. Intrigued, Logan pressed his fingers even closer around the small object, trying to discern what it was.

It didn’t take long for Logan to figure out what it felt like it was. Circular, metallic but not heavy, no center. It felt like it was a ring. But it couldn’t be a ring- there was only one reason Logan could think of that Remy would be giving him a ring, and that wasn’t- that was never going to happen, so it couldn’t be a ring.

Further investigation of the object seemed to only be providing evidence to it being a ring, however. The hole in the object seemed to be just big enough to fit snugly on his ring finger. There were three slightly uneven bumps embedded in the metal, the middle one a little bigger than the others, just like inset gemstones. Raised points on the opposite side of the possible gemstones felt like braille, and after a moment Logan was able to make out the word they stood for- ‘forever.’

“The braille’s new.” Remy said softly as Logan ran his finger back over the dots again, trying to see if it was a different word, but only coming up with forever, forever, forever. “The ring’s not.”

“I…” Logan didn’t know what to say. The ring being old probably meant that Remy had gotten it before the accident- which was another thing he was going to have to contemplate soon- but adding the braille meant after the accident, meant after Logan went blind and after quitting their job and after having to do so much to help Logan, meant after all of that and still waiting to give Logan the ring. It meant… it meant more things than Logan felt he could process right then, maybe ever.

“I’m not asking you to marry me.” Remy said, which made Logan’s heart ache even though he knew there must be more to the explanation, even though most of him knew Remy wouldn’t want to marry him anyways; not now. “I don’t know if you’re ready for that, or if you want that. That’s not my call to make, and that’s not my decision to force on you. But that’s not the point.

“I love you, Logan. I loved you before the accident, I loved you after the accident, and I still love you now. That hasn’t changed.” Remy stopped for a moment, their free hand coming to rest on Logan’s cheek, catching the one tear that had begun to slip down Logan’s cheek and wipe it away. “Last week… you kept talking about being a burden, about how I would get tired of helping you and then I’d get tired of you. You said I was giving everything without getting anything. I told you you were wrong, but I could tell you didn’t believe me.”

Logan didn’t respond to that. Remy was right; he hadn’t believed them. Maybe he believed that Remy still loved him in the moment, but he wasn’t a fool. No moment lasts forever, and a relationship built on one person always giving and the other always taking was a doomed relationship.

“So that’s why I’m telling you again. You’re wrong, babe, so completely horribly wrong it really puts a shame to that big brain of yours.” Remy went on, tone both teasing and adoring, catching Logan off-guard. “You’re not a burden. I don’t think it’s possible for me to tire of you, much less leave you. And to say I’m giving without getting is a little rude to the love of my life, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped thinking like that.”

“...What are you saying?” Logan asked, slowly, fingers still pressing the ring into his hand hard enough to indent his palm, well aware another tear was slipping down his face even in his confusion.

“I’m saying that you give me so, so much, sweetheart.” Remy answered, sounding the slightest bit choked up, and Logan had the feeling if he touched their face he’d find tear tracks running down their cheeks. “You give me cuddles when I try to get out of bed before you and you indulge me when I do the same to you. You let me hold your hand even though I’m perfectly capable of just following you because I want to hold your hand. You rant about space and stars and planets to me when even slightly prompted. You accept my snark with a smile you pretend isn’t fond and you offer me a completely and unabashedly fond smile when I’m just playing with your hair. You give me your love,” Remy’s voice cracked there, but Logan had the feeling that wasn’t a bad thing, “and that is worth so, so much more to me than I think you know.”

Logan was properly crying now, tears falling down both his cheeks and making a mess of his face. Remy didn’t seem to mind as they pressed their forehead against Logan’s, pulling him close.

“It would be my greatest honor, pleasure, and joy to spend the rest of my life with you, to the point I’m more than willing to have it stamped out on some government paper.” Remy said, voice quieter but still filled with only love. “And if you wanted, I would marry you right now, or tomorrow, or in a week, or in a month, or in a year, or in a decade, or never. I would marry you if you were blind, deaf, and mute. I would marry you anywhere, anytime, anyway, because I love you, so damn much, and nothing is going to change that, much less the fact that you’re blind.”

“I love you.” Logan said, suddenly, his grip on Remy’s hand tightening almost too much. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never.” Remy vowed in a breath. “That’s the whole point of this.” Their hand left Logan’s cheek, moving down to hold Logan’s hand, interlocking their fingers and trapping the ring between both of their palms. “I wanted you to be able to feel my love.” And then, softly, so softly spoken Logan almost missed it, “Can you feel my love?”

It was, objectively, a ridiculous question. One can’t feel love- it’s an abstract concept, something you can know exists in words and actions but can’t feel all by itself.

And yet, Logan knew without a doubt that the answer to Remy’s question was a firm yes. He could feel Remy’s love, logic be damned. He could feel it in every word Remy had just said. He could feel it in the warmth of Remy’s hands in his, to keep him steady in more ways than one. He could feel it in the new braille raised on old metal.

He could feel it because he knew it was there.

It only took one stumbled step forwards before Logan was against Remy’s chest, the ring once more firmly held in his hand alone as Remy’s arms wrapped around him and held him close, close enough Logan could feel Remy’s heart beat against their chest. He held onto Remy as best he could, pressing his face into Remy’s shoulder and crying, no longer in fear of an approaching end but in the overwhelming joy of a beautiful future.

“I’ll marry you.” He said a minute or two after he had finished crying, when it was just him and Remy, holding each other silently.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Logan responded, aware that he should wait, aware that he should step back from the situation and not make any decisions like this until he had calmed down from new realization that Remy wasn’t going to leave him, to make sure he wasn’t just trying to figuratively snatch Remy up before they could change their mind and get away from him. But he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to marry Remy and he wanted Remy to know he wanted to marry them and he wanted Remy to know that now.

Remy chuckled as they pressed a kiss against the top of Logan’s head, and Logan liked to believe he could feel Remy smiling as they did so. “Then you’ll marry me.” They promised before gently pulling away from Logan, one arm still wrapped around his waist as they took the hand Logan was holding the ring in. They pulled slightly at his fingers and Logan opened his hand, allowing Remy to pick up the ring before they turned his hand over, holding the palm of it while allowing the fingers to stretch out.

“May I?” They asked, the quiet request causing Logan to blush for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of.

“Please do.” He responded, also quiet, his words laced with longing as well. Slowly, as if they wanted to savor the moment, Remy slipped the ring onto Logan’s finger. Logan wiggled his fingers, happy when the ring didn’t move. It fit perfectly.

“And now, we’re engaged.” Remy said, raising Logan’s hand so that they could kiss the back of it, causing Logan’s blush to deepen as he smiled. He leaned forwards a bit, happy when Remy met his lips a second later with their own.

The kiss wasn’t long- neither Logan nor Remy cared much for making-out or lip kissing in general- but it didn’t need to be. They already knew the importance of the moment, the beauty of each other, the love they shared that some might have called too much but they would’ve called not enough. The kiss was just a symbol of that. It didn’t have to be long, it just had to be theirs.

Logan pulled away after a few seconds, once more resting his head on Remy’s shoulder, this time not to cry but just to be close to them. He held his hands close to his chest, running his finger over the braille on his ring over and over and over, the repeated motion and word a continuous reminder of all that had just happened and all that would happen.

Gentle fingers worked their way into his hair, Remy settling their head on top of Logan’s as they played with his hair. “Do you want to go home and celebrate with cuddles?” Remy asked, their tone soft and fond and sweet in ways Logan wasn’t sure he had heard before but wanted to hear forever.

“Soon.” Logan answered. “I want to stay here a little longer.”

“Anything for you, starshine.” Remy replied, kissing Logan’s head again. Logan smiled into their neck, relaxing against them even more.

Though Logan could still feel the sand beneath his feet, the water around his ankles, the wind in his hair, and the sun on his skin, he wasn’t focused on them. His attention was held entirely by Remy holding him, by Remy’s hand combing through his hair, by Remy’s chest steadily moving up and down in time with their breaths, and by the braille on his ring. His attention was held by warmth and comfort and Remy. His attention was held by love. And his love’s attention was held by him.

And despite what challenges they might face, despite Logan’s worries and fears, despite everything that might stand in their way, that wasn’t going to change. They were going to be together. They were going to be in love. They were going to be happy.

And they were going to be like that forever.

#losleep #ts logan #ts sleep #ts remy #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #the cryptid speaks #blind logan au #blind!logan #nb!remy

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dawnrider · 4 years ago

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A Continuation of Spitfire (THE SPICY STUFF)

1 | 2 |

Was it just a coincidence? There were thousands of babies who were born the same day as I was. I couldn't just assume that my birth had awakened a half-demon who had been sleeping for five hundred years. But Inuyasha seemed sure. My grandfather had seemed sure. "What does that mean?" I breathed. "Why me?" He didn't respond right away, staring at me with those intense amber eyes of his. It hit me suddenly, an epiphany that nearly tore out my heart. Inuyasha flinched, hands reaching for me even as I pulled away. "I'm... You think I'm her." It left me in a whisper, pain stealing my voice. My lungs suddenly felt too small.

"No," he was quick to assure me. "No, you're completely different people. Your soul has been reincarnated several times since it was Kikyo's. I didn't wake up until you. Nothing ever woke me until you entered this world."

“So my soul just needed time to bake or something?” I cried, standing from the bed and tossing the blanket on the floor. I went to the window, popping it open again to let in some fresh air. I felt lightheaded with the force of everything I was learning. Had I only been drawn to Inuyasha because my soul thought we were supposed to be together? Did he simply think of me as a Kikyo 2.0? “This is too much. It’s too… too much.” I had never had a panic attack before, but I was starting to feel like that’s what was happening.

“Kagome…” His voice was soft, pleading. “This doesn’t change anything,” he murmured. I whipped around ready to refute his claim but found him so close that all I could do was gasp. “It might explain some things, but it doesn’t change them.” His large hands framed my face, keeping my eyes on him. “You are intelligent, beautiful, kind.” I sucked in a shuddering breath at his words. “But what really makes you the person you are, what pulls me in, is your determination, your strength. Your fire,” he growled the last, his lips catching mine for a brief but intense kiss. He didn’t give me time to respond before he was speaking again. “Kikyo wasn’t like that. She was… demure. She was a product of a very different time.”

“But you loved her,” I whimpered, wanting to kick myself for my weakness.

Inuyasha frowned a little. “In a way, yes. We didn’t trust each other though.” He paused to scan my face. “Do you know the real story, why she died and I ended up on that tree?” I shook my head in what little space I had between his palms. He pulled me against him, scooping me into his lap as he plopped down in my armchair. He told me the story of a lonely and nearly feral hanyou teenager who met a miko who saw the human in him and wouldn’t destroy him. Even when he repetitively attempted to steal the Shikon no Tama from her. Even when he snarled, swore and tried to chase her. Even when he threatened to destroy her village. She saw the emptiness of his threats, the call for help they were, and slowly accepted him until they became friends. “I had never had a friend before, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t constantly starving or running for my survival.” He kept my face tucked against his neck, seemingly needing the shield of not making eye contact.

His words weaved a tale of young love, naive love, which thought the world wouldn’t care about a miko and a hanyou being together. “But… Wouldn’t she have purified you by accident?” I asked, interrupting him. The jealousy at the idea that she had been with him… upset at the idea that she had maybe hurt him in the process.

“She did, a few times, when we kissed. Kikyo didn’t realize that she held such doubt in her heart. Eventually she wanted to use the jewel to make me human, permanently.”

“What?” I couldn’t keep silent at that, couldn’t let him hold me in silence. “You weren’t going to let her, were you?” The stunned and pained look on his face told me he still felt he should have, even if he hadn’t wanted her to. “Inuyasha, no one should have to become someone else to be loved.” He didn’t respond right away, looking down at where his hand rested on my thigh, where his claws gently pressed against my skin. Clearly he still thought being part demon had kept him from a life he wanted. “I think you’re perfect the way you are,” I murmured.

Inuyasha stiffened around me, his arms tightening a moment. “What?” he breathed. I looked up into his face, catching his searching golden eyes with my own serious gaze. “Kagome…”

“I mean it. You’re… stronger and faster than a human.”

“That’s what makes me dangerous.”

I scoffed. “Would you intentionally hurt someone who didn’t deserve it?”

“Of course not!”

“Then it makes you an excellent protector.” He bit his lower lip in thought. His eyes seemed to search my face. “Your human side makes you feel, makes you able to love, doesn’t it?”

His dark brows came together in a thoughtful little frown. “I suppose. Youkai feel love too, just maybe not as… openly.”

“So, there you go. Your youkai makes you strong, your human makes you soft.” I laughed a little when he growled at me. “I think it’s the perfect balance.” He looked up at my more serious tone.

“No one… no one’s ever thought that before.” I bit back the silly comment I’d wanted to make to lighten the moment at the intense way his eyes locked with mine. “Kagome.” I shivered at the timbre of his voice when he said my name. “The first time I saw you in person was when you were fifteen. You were helping a nekoyoukai kitten out of a storm drain.”

“Neko… That cat was a youkai?” He nodded. “I had no idea.” His lips quirked in a tiny smile.

“That’s what caught me. She was bristling at you and hissing because she knew you were a miko, but you just soothed her and hushed until she trusted you enough to let you help her.”

“She ran away shortly after.”

“I took her.” I looked at him, stunned. “She would have ended up hurting someone without proper training. A friend of mine, Sango, has her. Kirara has made a great companion.” His smile grew. “They’re inseparable now. Sango is from a family of demon slayers. I think you’d really like her. She’s been demanding to meet you for years.”

“Y-you’ve told your friends about me?” Inuyasha’s cheeks flushed slightly and his look turned sheepish. “You’ve been so sure all this time that I was… what? A way for you to say your goodbyes? A second chance?”

“Goodbyes? To Kikyo?” His voice made his confusion clear. “I made peace with that a long time ago. I looked into the stories more after your grandfather mentioned we’d been tricked. I realized that we’d been set against one another by a demon after the jewel. Kikyo destroyed him, but destroyed herself in the process. Binding me was a mistake, one she didn’t have time to fix before she passed.” Inuyasha grunted a moment as he hefted both of us up, plopping me down on the bed so he could lean over me, hands on either side of my head, caging me with his body. “And this is so much more than a second chance. If it were only that, I would have woken up every time your soul was reincarnated. We would have had to mess it up over and over again.” He came closer, nose tracing the line of my jaw. “This is a completely new start. I’ve watched you grow up since that first time, saw the woman you were becoming. I had to stay away because I was too tempted to approach you earlier, before you were ready.” His tongue slid softly against my pulse before his lips gently pressed against the tender skin. “I know that makes me sound like a creep, but I knew from that first moment that you were the one.”

“The one what?” I breathed even as I felt my back arch to bring us closer together. Inuyasha growled low in his throat, his hips introducing themselves between my thighs a little roughly. His mouth became somewhat more insistent as well, teeth nipping my shoulder. A hand sliding under my pajama top reminded me that I wasn’t wearing a bra, but he didn’t move in on that territory right away. He was too content kissing me breathless, sucking on my lower lip.

“The only one I should be protecting. The one I want to share my life with.” His hand moved over my top to slowly undo a button at a time from the bottom up. He stopped to gently caress my stomach when I tensed slightly. “The one who would accept me, love me,” he whispered as though afraid to voice the hope.

“Inuyasha,” I sighed, sliding a hand into his hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He let out a rough breath through his nose in relief, his kiss soft and languid. “Silly man,” I laughed when he pulled back a little. “You should have said something sooner. We could have been doing this a long time ago.” Inuyasha was stunned for a moment before he let out a little chuckle.

"Waiting makes it that much sweeter," he whispered against my lips. He kissed his way down my throat and the valley between my breasts. He continued down, dipping his tongue into my navel. I gasped at the tingle of heat that suffused my body, my back arching. "I want to taste you, Kagome." There was that growl in his voice again, an intensity that made me shiver.

He used his hands on my hips to move me further up the bed and then pulled my shorts and underwear off in one go. I startled, trying to hide or keep him out. "Yash..."

"Please, Kagome," he whimpered, "I won't do anything more unless you ask me to. I just... The moon tonight. My youki is stronger tonight than any other time of the month and I need you." He took a deep breath. "I know this is all new to you. I know you're not ready. This way I won't go too far and you decide when I stop."

I had to think about it for a moment. I wasn't ready, definitely not for the giant step of actually sleeping with him. Was I ready to let him do something so intimate? Could I handle what he intended to do and not ask him to do more? "Tonight... Even if I ask..."

It looked like it pained him, but he promised. "No matter what you say, I won't take it further. Everything will stay on," he said, indicating his own clothing. I chewed my lip a moment before slowly releasing the tension in my thighs. Instead of going straight for his goal, Inuyasha moved up to kiss me again. He nibbled and licked, teasing me with light kisses. Then his lips became more intense as he pressed for an open kiss, tongues meeting somewhere in the middle. Then he made his way down my body, nipping and kissing, leaving little marks behind on the tender skin of my stomach. His glowing golden eyes met mine and he smirked, forcing an expectant breath into my lungs.

~~~~~~

I took a moment to savor the scent of her, how wet and open she was. Her trust was a gift, one I treasured and fully intended to keep forever. That, as a virgin, she would allow me this, allow me to pleasure her in this very intimate way, proved that she trusted me. "You are so wet, Love," I purred as I gently licked and nipped the inside of her thigh. Kagome let out a soft whimper in response. My youkai was beginning to surface more and I had to slam down my control to keep it down. The sight of her soft, wet folds slick with her arousal was not helping. She was relatively free of hair, just a light dusting covering the outer mound. Her pussy was smooth, her clit peeking out from between swollen folds. I let my hands drift to her hips to hold her still as well as to keep my claws away from her more delicate skin.

She sucked in a startled breath when I finally laid the flat of my tongue against her, the tip lightly caressing her clit before fully tasting her. The youkai side of me tried to leap forward at the taste of her, my mate. I hadn’t mentioned the way my youkai instincts saw her to Kagome because I didn’t want to frighten her. It was one thing to show her what I was and admit that I knew she was the one. Telling her I wanted to mate with her like an animal would be too much. I was able to soothe my blood with another gentle lick of her folds, her soft sounds of pleasure making the inuyoukai purr with happiness. Pleasing your mate is top priority in the bedroom. All that ego bullshit about gaining your own pleasure first just didn’t work for inuyoukai. Your mate comes first, then maybe second as well, before you do. In the long run, it’s worked out for us since we have some of the longest lasting and happiest relationships in history.

What I also didn’t mention was the real reason I’d shown up tonight, why I hadn’t been able to stay away. I went to Brazil to get away from her. Kagome was finally ready, at least physically, to become my mate. She had gone through her cycle relatively normally up until just before I decided to leave the country. Her scent was so enticing that I had to have Miroku and Shippo restrain me to keep me from finding her and making her mine. Right now, her fertile window was calling to my heightened youkai senses and I needed to be with her. I was glad to find that, at least so far, I was able to restrain myself as long as she let me pleasure her.

“Inuyasha,” she murmured, her voice breathy as she shifted under my attention. I could smell her desire increasing, her body tensing and releasing as I pushed her toward climax. “There,” she pleaded when I softly sucked on her clit, letting my tongue trace the underside. Gladly, I repeated the action with a little more force. A cry left her, her hips pressing up toward my face. The growl that vibrated through me seemed to increase her pleasure, a whimper sitting in the back of her throat.

When I could tell she was close, I slid my tongue into her passage, her slick heat pulsing and pulling. She called my name again and her fingers yanked lightly at my hair. Her legs stiffened and tightened around my head, locking me in place as my tongue continued to move within her, riding out her orgasm and desperately trying to hold back my own.

My beast was purring in contentment that she had enjoyed my touch so much… but I knew that contentment wouldn’t last long. It wasn’t going to be enough for the demon inside that wanted out. That wanted Kagome to be ours.

As soon as her thighs relaxed, I dropped back to the floor on my ass, scooting backward until I hit the wall. “Kagome…”

“I-Inuyasha?”

“I need to… I have to go.”

“Wait!” She was still recovering, which should have given me a sense of pride, but instead just riled my youkai. It wanted to do it all over again. My claws dug into the floorboards at my sides as I kept myself perfectly still. Kagome scrambled to pull her blanket up over her nakedness and slid onto the floor so our eyes could meet. “Don’t leave, please.”

“I gave my word,” I could barely whisper. “I cannot break my word. Especially not to you.” My nose picked up her scent again and I slammed my eyes shut to at least block out the delicious visual of her wide eyes glowing at me in the moonlight. “Kagome, call Miroku.”

“No.”

I snarled, biting my lip as hard as I could. “Call Mir-”

“No! I’m not afraid of you.” That fire in her was everything I loved. Her fierce protection of others, standing up for what she knew was right, fearless in the face of a monster… But right now I was that monster and I needed her to be safe. I needed her to get Miroku over to her apartment immediately so he could lock my ass up. I was a fool to think that I could handle this. Tonight of all nights. “Inuyasha, let me help you.”

~~~~~~

His eyes popped open at the offer and I could see that they were changing color. A turquoise tinge shaded his irises and the whites were more pink. Was this the youkai side he was trying to warn me about earlier? “Kagome, don’t,” he rasped. I could see how his knuckles were turning white with strain. “I can’t hurt you,” he told me pleadingly.

Taking a breath, I steeled my resolve and moved closer. His growl rose for a moment before a whimper took its place. He was biting his lip, gaze fixed on me as the blanket dropped away. “You stay put, I’ll come to you. Nothing comes off,” I emphasized the rules to him and to myself. Confusion tilted his head and I smiled at how it made him look like a puppy. “I want you to feel good too.”

“N-No,” he whispered, but made no move to leave or to stop me. I slid into his lap, watching his hands twitch. He wanted to reach for me… but he didn’t. Part of him seemed curious enough to let me try what I had in mind. Which was a bit terrifying. I had never actually tried to get a guy off before. Not in actual practice. But even with my lack of experience, I could tell he was on edge and would likely not take much effort to get him the relief he needed. “Kagome, please.” This time his tone was begging me to keep coming closer, not trying to scare me away. A soft smile lifted the corners of my mouth.

Slowly unzipping his pants, I opened the fly enough to get my hand inside. He yelped at the touch of my fingers against the very hard ridge under the cotton. I jumped, but knew that it was from surprise and not pain that he’d reacted. “Do you like more or less pressure?”

“Fu- Just touch me,” he whined. “Doesn’t matter.” I explored light and firm touches, watching his face carefully for any sign of what he preferred. Soft touches to the spongy tip definitely elicited a reaction, thought not as big as firmer touches along the vein that seemed to run along the underside. I could hear the scratch of his claws burying into my floor. I would demand he help me get my deposit back later, right now I just wanted to hear him cry out my name. I wrapped my hand around him and ran my thumb over the slit at the head and was happy to hear him gasp, then tense. His mouth was tight as he fought to keep in his sounds and I gently kissed him until he responded, sighing and whimpering a muffled version of my name as I repeated a squeeze, pull and the movement of my thumb.

“Inuyasha, you’re so tense,” I scolded him. I increased the pace of my movements and pressed my chest to his as I kissed him again. He jolted, a deep breath in through his nose. “Let go,” I whispered against his lips.

Not thinking that would work, I was surprised to feel him arch up against me, a snarl on his lips and his hips pressing up toward mine. His voice came out in panting whimpered, a whine stretching as he froze under me. Then he collapsed to the floor and I could feel the hot sticky texture of his release on my hand and wrist. Eyes closed, he was taking great deep breaths through his nose, relaxing by degrees.

“Kagome?” I hummed, still not moving from my position. “I love you.”

I smiled, rolling my eyes. “Yea, right. Me too, Yash.”

His eyes opened and he frowned, golden gaze intent on mine. “I mean that. I love you.”

I couldn’t help the tears that welled in my eyes. I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, which he happily accepted. “I love you too, Inuyasha.”

@lemonlushff , @fantastiqueparfait , @heavenin--hell, @clearwillow , @mamabearcat , @thunderpo , @keichanz , @meggz0rz , @disgruntledbeast , @sarah-writes-stories , @zelink-inukag , @cammysansstuff , @mcornilliac , @redflamesofpassion , @superpixie42 , @underwater0phelia , @cstorm86 , @noviceotakus-blog , @lavendertwilight89 , @hinezumi , @wenchster , @hnnwnchstr , @lady-dark-69 , @itzatakahashi , @juliatheanimelover7 , @kazeinori , @theinuyashareader , @inupotter , @eternalnight8806-3 , @smmahamazing , @willowandfog , @gaysonthefloor , @sistasecbhere , @jennybean91 , @alerialblu, @laurenintheskyy

#Dawnrider Fanfiction #InuKag-Week #Desire #Modern AU #Spitfire #Smooty!

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thecrescentcityrpg · 3 years ago

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“I wanna live life fast, I don't know how to slow down.”

full name: Kaiden “Kai” Leon Amari

city of origin: Atlanta, Georgia

age: 34

species: Werewolf

occupation: Owner of Moonlight Ink tattoo parlor, part-time boxer at 9 Round

faceclaim: Sinqua Walls

⇨ B I O G R A P H Y

Kaiden was born into a werewolf pack in the heart of Atlanta, Georgia. The younger of two sons, Kaiden and Kallen grew up thick as thieves; his brother was always his best friend and never seen as a rival. Kai’s father was an alpha werewolf for a modestly-sized pack in Atlanta and it was set in stone that Kal would take his father’s place before Kai was ever born. Their youth went as expected: Kal was kept on a short leash and Kai was free to run rampant. As the younger son, he had no promised responsibility to weigh on his shoulders or ruin his childhood. While his brother was stuck in classes on werewolf history, or stuffy meetings with local pack leaders, Kai was allowed to wander, run, and enjoy his childhood. He spent more time with their human mother, who had a wild streak of her own and was more than willing to indulge Kai in adventures. A lot of Kai’s early memories were spent out exploring dozens of local nature trails her, baking sweets for the entire pack, and spending the day at the local art supply store to encourage his love of drawing and sketching. In those moments, he learned about werewolf and pack life naturally, outside of textbooks and lectures, and decided from an early age that he would never join his father’s pack.

As they aged and matured, one thing became clear: Kaiden was a natural leader, with an electric sort of personality that drew people in, and Kallen just wasn’t. Kai was constantly in trouble at school for pranking his teacher, running amok in the classrooms, and convincing his classmates to get in on the action. He lettered in football and lived out the high school dreams that mirrored popular teen movies. Kai had popularity and infamy at his local school, a steady stream of girl and boyfriends available, a large friend group, and a good life. He rarely spent time around the pack and his father if he could help it, and he was happier for it.

Kai’s father actively demonstrated his disappointment in him as he got older but he never took it to heart; Kal was the golden boy, after all, and the one who was saddled by fate with their father’s unrealistic expectations. And Kai? He was a wildcard, a free spirit, and he would not be tethered to a pack that barely acknowledged his existence outside of “the alpha’s son” or “the future alpha’s brother”. Their father’s disappointment towards Kal was much more private and a heavy sort of tension that filled their house during his teenage years. Although not as close as when they were young kids, Kai loved his brother and always made time for him; the boys would disappear a couple times a month into an adventure of their own, outside of the watchful gaze of the pack, littering the back of Kal’s truck with cheap beer cans as they existed outside of any forced expectations of greatness.

And then Kallen came of age. As the eldest son of the alpha, his activation of the curse was scheduled around his twenty-fifth birthday if it didn’t happen accidentally before then. The entire thing felt cruel, scheduling the death of someone, and the weeks up to the ceremony were tense and awful. Kai found himself crashing on friends couches just to avoid being home, unable to sleep in his own bed due to the heavy emotions around the Amari house. The night before Kal’s ceremony, he showed up at the couch Kai was currently surfing on, their pickup packed to the brim, and asked him to leave town with him. Kai never hesitated. He had already graduated high school and was working at a local tattoo shop after interning there, but had no other obligation to town besides his mother. He broke up with his girlfriend via text, climbed through his window to grab his letterman and a couple of other relics of his childhood, and hit the road.

They drove through the night and made it to Ohio by breakfast time. From there, the brothers lived week to week in different towns, cities, and areas. Kal had amassed a large savings account that Kai had no idea about, and it funded their road trip throughout the country. He kept in contact with his mother, of course, updating them vaguely after they had cleared an area and were already onto the next stop. Kal seemed like a new person without their father bearing down on him, and their bromance re-kindled on the road as they were allowed to just exist, carefree and young and stupid.

Until the accident. Kai doesn’t talk about how he was triggered, or even mention a having a brother, but one day they were on their way some festival inside Salem, and the next day they were werewolves. The activation of the curse brought up a lot of old feelings and drama, and Kai knew that his brother had changed in more ways than one. It only took a couple of weeks before Kal left him a note, an envelope full of cash, and a broken heart. He had left in the middle of the night, again, to return to their family.

Kai was furious. He allowed his anger to crackle at his bones and it kept him in wolf form for almost a month. Every time he tried to change back to his human form the rage simmered and stoked something in him that was too emotional and human to feel on two legs. He kept the money, spiteful but not stupid, and travelled to Atlantic City. After using his wolf senses to cheat his way through a casino, he had enough money to try to settle down and start over. Living life on the road lost its luster without his brother, and he was tired of feeling so angry.

New Orleans had meant to be a boozy pit stop to drown his sorrows in. Kai quickly fell in love with the city, especially the gritty, messy parts that escaped the light shed on the city by tourism. He was charmed, and for the first time in too long felt compelled to stay somewhere longer than a week or two. Kai avoided the supernatural scene for as long as possible, but the city was chalk full of power struggles, turf wars, and aimless wolves that needed taken care of even in times of “peace”.

Kai caused a lot of fights when he first arrived. After nearly coming to blows with a vampire that looked at him the wrong way, a strange offer had been given: a membership at a local boxing club. The 9 Round became a healthy way for Kai to try to channel his rage and aggression, and he soon became a staple member at the club and improved some of his inter-species relations. Kind of.

Despite the his decades of struggles, Kai was an alpha’s son, born to lead, and the draw of pack life eventually called to him. Leadership fit him like a glove, and after a messy battle with a complacent alpha, Kai found himself in charge for the first time in his life.

Kal had continued to wire him money after the betrayal, and Kai hadn’t touched any of it until he needed it. It was enough for him to start is own business, Moonlight Ink, in one of the grungier parts of town. During the first couple of months Kai lived in the storage loft above the business to save money. A natural artist, the shop quickly grew popular with locals. Kai had the unfair advantage of werewolf senses, and his line work, shading, and inventive techniques soon gained infamy in the area. They were known specifically for glow in the dark tattoos, using non-traditional mediums, and insane geometric line work that could nearly cross eyes. The parlor had to move to house enough chairs for additional artists and clients into a nicer part of town.

Kai laid down roots, and the city responded with a love he hadn’t felt in a long time. No longer on the run, he could openly converse with his mother and old friends from town. His father never cared much for him, after all, and why would he start now with the golden boy home? He had grown immensely since his arrival. No longer a child, or in his brother’s shadow, he could hype up his pack brothers and sisters without making any of the mistakes of his father. All of Kai’s mistakes were definitely his own, and usually a result of his awful temper. His pack was his family, his new, chosen family that he could keep from fucking up, and he took his responsibility very seriously. That didn’t mean that he would be a stick in the mud alpha, though. After all, what was life without a little bit of chaos and blood?

⇨ P E R S O N A L I T Y

+ passionate, hardworking, loyal

- impulsive, aggressive, chaotic

#new lsrpg #new rp #new rpg #new roleplay #new orleans rp #kaiden amari #werewolf #all #taken

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otherthingsinhead · 5 years ago

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Can We Start It Over?

Pairing: Javier Peña x gn!reader

Warnings: injuries/blood/language

Words: 2.3k

Request: Anonymous

hello, you write beautifully! can you please write a Steve x Javi, where Javi takes a bullet for Steve?! good amount of h/c with final confessions. you can choose whatever ending you like. many thanks!

oh I'm sorry about the request, I didn't know you don't do character x character. If it's all the same to you, if you could write the same prompt with Javi x reader, that'd be great! Thank you!!

Summary: A lot has changed since the accident. Most of these changes suck like the constant, dull pain in his guts or the fact that the days pass without purpose. But somehow the series of these changes have opened up a whole new world for the DEA agent and put his heart into action.

Time is particularly slow now. Javier’s eyes constantly shifting from the clock to the door. His crave for a cigar is getting stronger with every passing minute, but the box is laying untouched on the coffee table. Sure, it would calm his mind, but you can knock on the door at any moment and he knows how seriously you take the doctor's instructions. It's just so unlike you to be late...

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Your eyes only skimming his sitting figure on the couch as you storm through the door and put two heavy bags of groceries onto the kitchen table.

"Sorry, I'm late, I had to fill out a report. Messina’s up my ass since—" since I almost got you killed. You barely set foot in the room and the air is already tense with your unsaid words. Tense and thick with shame and you need to drag a good amount of this dense air into your lungs to keep your heart beating. "How are you?"

Javier’s body is strong but there’s pain in every one of his movement as he’s hobbling towards you. One hand is casually laying on his hip, the other is supporting him by the table. Damn, you hate to see him like this!

He must notice the remorseful look in your eyes, thus the mushy smile on his face, regardless of all the struggle of holding himself on his feet. He wants you to feel less guilty and though you are grateful for him you would rather feel all ashamed and miserable like you deserve.

"I'm good, Y/N," his tone is soft, eyes boring into yours as if he's pouring his own calm into you. It works. You nod with a fragile smile and dig up a deliciously steaming box from a bag.

"Good. I hope you're hungry!"

That's how it goes since he is back from the hospital. You come over to him in the morning before work and in the evening after work, trying to keep him occupied, do the laundry, bring food, keep the place and his wound clean in a hope he will feel better. Or more like that that you will feel better.

The worst is when you change the dressing on the wound. That is when you have to face the damage you have done. Clenched jaw, stiff chest and shaky breathes. Doesn’t seem like it, but Javier kind of enjoys those moments. Not the painful part of course but there is something about being taken care by you. Something engaging and exciting.

Yes, he is excited. He shouldn't be though. No other relationship is allowed than friendship between partners at the DEA yet, he can't keep his stupid heart from melting whenever you cast your beautiful smile at him.

So he can't help but adore these moments with you. He savors and memorizes the clumsy touches of your fingers as you are fumbling with the bandage around his torso or the image of your lip getting trapped between your teeth as you are concentrating, trying to get the tape to stick.

He hadn't completely figured out these feelings, but they are more tender then they should be. And definitely more passionate. Especially at nights, in the dark when the sinful feeling of longing is thriving within him, pushing the sweetest memories of you into his mind and his hands under the blanket.

After the dinner, you pile up some pillows behind Javier and help him halfway up into a sitting position on his bed. The room is dark and only the night lamp shines its light on the wound so you can focus all your attention on it. Carefully, he rolls up the hem of his shirt to expose the white patch clinging on his skin.

The gun had struck him just a little bit above the edge of his pelvic bone. The doctor said he was lucky to get off with a minor bruising like that. The bullet could have easily shatter his bone into pieces if it hits him from a smaller distance.

You usually try to distract him with small stories and bad jokes, talking about practically anything while cleaning the skin around the stitches. The process is torturous for both of you and keeping your minds busy helps a lot. But now you are silent. Silent and stiff.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah-hm just... had a rough day, you know."

"Messina? She knows it wasn’t your fault she shouldn’t be so hard on you."

"No, it’s not her. It’s... I just had a rough day, okay?"

Shit! You sounded more offended than you wanted to and he knows you better than to fall for such an obvious lie. He grabs your wrist and tilts his head, glaring at you with a nagging look in his eyes.

"It's Carillo," you confess with a shrug. "He... He is still mad I fucked up this operation."

"You didn't know it was—"

"Exactly!" Your voice is not loud nor judgemental but it helds a capricious tone and when you cast a quick glance at him, you see understanding in his eyes. He knows what he just put his finger on.

Carillo and Javier have been keeping you in the shadows from the first day you arrived. In the eyes of the Colonel, you are just a goddamned yankee from the states with no chips on the table and Javier—well, hell knows what is the matter with the stubborn head of that grumpy gringo.

"I’m your partner, Javi. You should have told me."

"You didn’t tell me about your intel either. If I knew you are planning on a one-man mission—"

"If you knew about it you’d send me for some shitty warrant to the embassy. I didn’t come to Colombia to sit on my ass while you and your cop friends are doing the job."

It is out. It is out and it sounds so wrong, as if you blame him for what happened when it was all your fault. The room is getting smaller and you have to bury your face in your palms, take a deep breath and let all the emotions to sink.

"I was so stupid," your voice is muffled and hoarse.

"No. No, you’re right. You just wanted to do something."

"Yeah, and I got a goddamn gun pressed against my forehead. If you didn’t come after me... I-I-I almost get myself killed and...," your voice crack and sob burst from your mouth.

"Y/N, por favor."

"And you, Javi. I-If you were dea-I... I-I still ha-have n-nightmares." Your whole body is trembling at the horror of the thought and tears like a waterfall, cascading down on your cheek.

"Hey! I didn't die, we’re both alive!” You hear him soothing but you can’t stop crying until he sits up and take one of your hands, pulling it towards him so he can feel your palm flat against his chest.

His grip is strong, almost painfully strong but you need it. You need to feel something to hold on, to drag yourself out from the false imaginations of events that never happened. The steady, unusually rapid beating of his heart is your lodestar and you can gradually narrow your focus to the softness of his skin, how warm and humid it feels under your palm and how easy it is to be lost in the intoxicating scent. It’s like a drug, making you want more and more of him until you are ready to sacrifice anything just to feel him closer. Much, much closer.

That's not going to happen. Not that you haven't always considered him handsome, but his jackass behavior and your common sense have helped holding back the affection you felt for him. You didn't fight your way up to the DEA for nothing. You can't put your reputation at risk. Not for a fucked-up romance with a womanizer.

"Carillo was right," you sniff, rubbing your eyes with your free hand to dry up the tears and get yourself together while trying to ignore the disturbingly pleasant feeling of his thumb stroking slow circles on your wrist. "Coming here was a mistake. I'll always be an outsider."

"Bullshit," he scoffs, he knows how much you care about these people and how hard you work to make this country safer for them.

"Javi, I... I-I don’t even speak the language,” you say and chuckle as a soft, ironic giggle bubble up inside you.

His thumb caressing your skin is so overwhelming, you need to avoid looking into his eyes for you are afraid you would lost in the darkness of them. But you can feel the searing gaze on your face, making you feel all hot and flustered, sweating like a virgin on the wedding night. What the hell is happening?

"Yeah, but... you have me,” he purrs softly like a cat, lips parted deliciously at the end, head lowered, eyes searching for yours to meet and there's no way avoiding his gaze any longer.

His eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips and back again and you feel a fucking thunderstorm raging in your chest as you fall into the kiss like it's gravity.

His lips are blazing hot, burning with the flames of some unquenchable thirst for tasting every part of your mouth as he delves himself into it. Everything is happening so fast as your whole world crumbles around you with the kiss. There's no time to think, no reason to stop. Your hand slithers from his chest to cradle the vast shoulder and you feel his strong fingers curving behind your neck, holding you firmly against his lips while you are kissing him back with equal fire and force.

The air is humid, filled with the wet sounds of the heated kiss and with the stifled noises escaping from you with rapid breaths as you are trying to suck enough oxygen into your lungs.

You need a break to breathe.

Your lips parting away from his but you let your head lull against his forehead, trying to regain control over your erratic breath or at least quell your mind a little bit.

"Javi," your stomach drops and you are suddenly snatched out from the delirious storm of emotions as you flutter your eyes open and see fresh blood leaking from the wound.

"It's ok, I’ll be fine," he pants and catches your lips between his again.

"Javi, I... w-we need to... mmh J-Javi, the w-wound... fuck!"

Your weak attempts of protesting are getting consumed by the heavenly sensation of open-mouthed kisses trailing along your jaw and down to your neck.

Then a painful hiss of breath slips from his lips.

"Ok, we need to fix this now," you insist with more determination than before but he can't make himself to ease the grip on your neck. It's like his sweetest dream is coming true and he is not ready to wake up from it.

"Javi!"

"I just... don't want it to disappear," he says, his half-lidded eyes are dark and heavy, lips glistening with the memory of the heated moments you just have shared.

He stares at you and feel a twinge of unease. Your eyes are hard to read, and your silence is puzzling.

“I have nightmares too,” his gaze drops to your hands, chest rises with a deep breath before he continues. “When they said you're in the building I... I didn't know if I'm going to make it in time,” his voice is small, almost wavering.

“I'm so sorry, Javier. I'm sorry you had to save me but it wouldn't have happened if you didn't try to–”

“Protect you?”

Your raise an eyebrow up at him, you can't believe he thinks you are just a helpless princess amongst hungry monsters.

“It's not your job to protect me,” you say softly but hurt hangs on every syllable.

“I can't help myself,” he chuckles. He has already sacrificed a lot for catching Escobar and he is ready to sacrifice even more. Anything. Anything, but you.

He brushes his fingertips along your jawline and tips your head so you can see the honest sparkling in his eyes.

“I have feelings for you.”

Your jaw drops open at his words and your heart begins to slam frantically against your ribcage. He can't just say something like that and shake the whole world around you. You feel like you're spiralling.

“I don't really know what are these feelings but... they make me feel different. They make me believe I can be more, make me want to be a better person. And when I see the guilt in your eyes, see you suffering because of me it's... it destroys me.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest and your eyes are glassy from the tears you are holding back. You have no idea what to say to a confession like this. You have never denied the physical attraction but you've never thought about it further.

“Javi, I don't... I—”

“I just want you to know you don't have to feel bad about what happened. We both chose a wrong path but... we got a chance to make it up,” his lips curl up to a faint but genuine smile making your heart swell with happiness. Or maybe affection?

The air between you grows full and magnetic, his thumb rubbing across your cheek, smearing the wetness along its way.

“So what do you think? Can we start it over?”

“We should try it at least,” you sniff. “And we definitely should find out those feelings you've talked about...”

His eyes sparkling as he leans forward, slowly closing the gap between your lips when you press a finger of objection upon his mouth.

“...after I fixed this bloody wound of yours.”

Playfully, you cock an eyebrow at him with a wide smile, watching in awe as the tip of his tongue trails a wet line along his lower lip before he speaks.

“Anything you want, partner.”

All tags: @maryan028 @pedrothirst @pascalisthepunkest

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal #javier pena #javier pena x gn!reader #gn!reader #gif is not mine #credit to the owner #javier pena one shot #gif isn't mine #credits to the owner

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me - Chapter 26

WARNINGS: mentions of PTSD, panic attacks, profanity

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

They haven’t spoken since they left the house; a rather brief and terse conversation about where Millie had left not only her shoes, but the noise cancellation headphones she likes to use on trips out of town. That was twenty minutes ago; halfway into their drive to Port Douglas and not one single word has been exchanged, nor even a sidelong glance. They’re both on edge; the aftereffects of the long and exhausting night before, Esme’s brief yet intense battle with a PTSD ‘flare up’, and now the raw and anxious nerves surrounding the visit with Tyler’s father.

The nightmare plays on a continuous loop in his mind; the old man’s booming voice and vicious words, his mother’s tearful begging and pleading that only cease when the beating begins, Austin’s appearance as a grown man and his refusal to lave Millie behind. It’s all there; every vision, every sound. Even the feel of his heart breaking deep within his chest and the scalding sting of tears as they rolled down his face. And the cravings linger, his brain and body desperate for those old vices. The only coping mechanism he’s ever known or practiced. It’s the familiarity of the old life that he misses; not the dirty work or the blood on his hands but the escape the job had provided him with. He’d constantly been on the go; jumping from place to place, relying only on his skills –and his confidence in them- to get him through each day. He hadn’t had time to think; too busy trying to keep himself and others alive. Now it seems as if he has all the time in the world to think. To dwell. And it’s slowly tearing him apart inside. He knows he should be grateful for what he’s been given; a second chance at life, a normal existence surrounded by people who love him and depend on him. And he IS. Yet at the same time, the past won't leave him alone. It had been his way of life for half of his years on earth, and both his brain and his body are struggling to let go.

Guilt. So much guilt. Over the fact he just can’t it go. That he can’t leave the past where it belongs and be content with a normal existence. He’s one of the lucky ones; he’d gotten out of the game relatively healthy and with most of his sanity still intact. He was able to find someone to have a family with; someone that not only understood the hardships and the horrors of the job, but didn’t judge him for the things he’d done or the mistakes he made or the number of broken and often dead bodies he left in his wake. Tons of mercs would give anything to be in his shoes, they’d kill –figuratively and some probably literally- to get even a taste of love and happiness and domesticity. And yet he was taking it all for granted and practically pissing it away.

He casts a glance through the rear view mirror. Millie with her earphones on, her face intense and her eyes riveted on whatever game or movie she has playing on the tablet in her lap; her baby sister fast asleep in the car seat beside her. She’d forgiven him quickly. He’d sat down next to her on the patio and had never said a word; giving her the time and the space to brood and to get over her temporary hate for him. And in a matter of minutes she’d been climbing up into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck and he in turn had been apologizing profusely for hurting her. He’d never meant to pull her hair or yell at her afterwards; explaining that he had a lot of things on his mind and they were making him angry and anxious –and even sad- and that he never should have taken them out on her. And even though she’d held his face in her hands and kissed his cheeks and said “I still love you, daddy” in that little voice of hers, he had still felt like complete and utter shit for what he’d done.

He looks over at his wife next; sitting with her elbow resting on the window ledge, her eyes closed with her palm pressed against the side of her face and two fingertips massaging her temple. The color has returned to face; she looks healthy again, vibrant. But her shoulders remain incredibly tense and her jaw tightly clenched.

“It’s why you have a headache,” Tyler points out, and she glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Your jaw. Clenching it like that. It’s why you feel like shit.”

He braces for it. A smart-ass comment or just a ‘fuck off, Tyler’, but neither come. Instead she gives a shaky smile and closes her eyes once more; thumb and forefinger moving up to rub at the bridge of her nose. But he notices her jaw relaxes and her shoulders drop slightly; it’s a good sign, he figures. She hasn’t told him where to go and how to get there and she’s finally starting to relax. So he takes it one step further, dropping a hand from the steering wheel and reaching across the middle console to lay it on her thigh. Feeling his own sense of relief when she doesn’t shoot him a dirty look or yank her leg away.

“You look really nice,” he says, giving her a soft smile and squeezing her knees as he admires her simple cotton sundress. A light orange that reminds him of the tail end of the sunrise, with a neckline that sits off her shoulders and a hem that just skims the bottom of her knees. It’s hard sometimes; finding just the right words, even when it comes to the simplest of comments or what should be the easiest of compliments. He knows what he wants to say but doesn’t always know how to get the thought across. Usually he’ll rely on body language and facial expressions; she’s always been on expert on reading them, right from the start. That second morning in Dhaka when she’d told him that his eyes did all the talking for him.

Her eyes open once more and this time she turns her face towards him and gives a smile of her own. Then lays her hand on top of his own and pushes her fingers through his.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says. “What happened with Millie. I didn’t mean to pull her hair. It was an accident. My mind completely wandered and...”

“You know what’s not what upset her, right?” Esme gently interjects. “It’s not that you pulled her hair. She knew you didn’t mean to do it. It’s that you yelled at her. You hurt her feelings. You scared her.”

“I didn’t mean to do THAT either.”

“What’s going on with you? First last night, now freaking out on Millie.”

“I had a nightmare. I’ve had nightmares before.”

“I’m not talking about the nightmare. I’m talking about other things. When we were...you know...” she peeks over her shoulder, making sure that Millie isn’t paying attention. She’s fallen asleep; her head resting on the side of her booster seat, hair falling over her face and those long, dark lashes brushing against the tops of her cheeks. “You were rough,” Esme continues. “And I’m not talking about your usual rough. The rough that I like. I mean like hard core rough. It wasn’t you, Tyler. It was...I don’t know...scary.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Or if she even wants him to say anything. At first, he’d thought it was all part of the game she likes to play; how she gets when she’s egging him on to be aggressive and manhandle her. It wasn’t uncommon for there to be pain involved; hair pulling, choking, bite marks and bruises left behind. It hadn’t even occurred to him that her resistance and her fighting back were genuine; not until she’d started to cry, and he realized that not only were the tears real, but so was the fear in her eyes. Suddenly it wasn’t a game anymore and he felt sick. That he could ever cause that kind of reaction in her when he’d spent years doing everything in his power to protect her.

“I know we joked about this morning,” she says. “But that? Last night? That was not you. That wasn’t even Dhaka Tyler. I don’t know who that was.”

He swallows heavily. There’s bile sitting square in his throat and he’s not sure he wants to vomit or cry. “I said I was sorry.” Tt sounds lame, even to his own ears.

“I don’t want you to say you’re sorry. I want you tell me what’s going on. And don’t say nothing. Because it’s been building and building. For days. You’re like this wire that’s being pulled too tight and you’re ready to snap. Things were fine. Things were good. So good. Is it us? Is there was the real issues? You’re not happy and you don’t want there to be an ‘us’ anymore?”

“What?” He can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes. Of all the fucking things she’d think, that is the most ridiculous. At least in his eyes. “Baby, you know that’s not it. That it’s not us. You and I are the only thing that’s NOT going to shit right now.”

“Then what is it?” she presses. “I know you, Tyler. Better than you know yourself most of the time. I know there’s more going on than you’re telling me. What is it?”

“It’s everything,” he admits. “Every single fucking thing. It’s Ovi and it’s Nik and it’s Millie’s birthday and it’s my father and it’s...everything.”

“Then tell Nik you’re not doing it. Call her and tell her you changed your mind. That she needs to find someone to train him. Because if it’s going to tear you apart like this...”

“I can’t. I can’t back out now. I bailed on her once. I can’t do it again.”

“Fuck Nik. You did what you had to do to keep your sanity and come home to your family. You CAN back out. And you need to know if you feel you can’t do it or if it’s only going to make things worse for you. Stop being so fucking stubborn and like yourself for once. Jesus Christ. Why do you do this? Why do you not care about what you’re going through?”

“I have to do it,” Tyler insists. “It’s Ovi, I can’t let him down. No matter how pissed off I am. No matter how much I want to fucking strangle him. If I don’t help and something happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself. And that’ll be a hundred times worse than what I’m going through right now.”

“I don’t want you doing this if it’s going to break you, if it’s only going to tear you apart from the inside out. I don’t want that happening to you. Because there’s six people that you need you, Tyler. Whether you think we do or not. I do not want this destroying you.”

“I just need to get through it,” he reasons. “I just need to bust his ass and hope it either breaks him and he gives up, or that I did a good enough job to keep him alive.”

“And if you have to go in and get what? What then?”

“Then I pray I don’t fuck up and I make it home.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” she mutters, then inhales deeply and exhales slowly, grip on his hand tightening. And minutes pass before she speaks again. “Do you miss it?” she asks, her eyes focused on the road ahead. “The job. Do you miss it? I want you to be honest with me. I want you tell me the truth even if it’s going to hurt. Even if you know I’m going to hate what I hear.”

“Esme...”

“Tyler,” her tone is firm. No nonsense. “Tell me the truth. Because lying about it will only make it worse. For both of us. Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes,” he admits.

“How often is sometimes?”

Sighing, he releases the hold on her hand and scratches at the back of his head. A nervous habit. “Lately? Every day.”

“Wow...” her eyes widen, and she nods slowly. “...I was not expecting THAT.”

He’s immediately on the defensive. “You wanted me to tell you. You told me to tell you the truth. So I am. You...”

“Every day, though? Every day for how long?”

“A couple weeks. Maybe more. A month at the most.”

She blinks in disbelief. “A month? A fucking month? Addie isn’t even a month old You’re telling me that I was still pregnant with her...trying to keep her inside of me so she’d stand a chance if she was born too early...and that entire time you were missing the job? While I’m trying to keep your daughter safe and alive, you were thinking about THAT? Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

“I don’t want to fight,” he keeps his voice and calm and even, despite the fact he feels every remaining of control being chipped away. “You told me to tell you the truth and that’s what I’m doing.”

“I mean I expected you to miss it and a hard time giving it up. But a month? You’ve been away from it for half a goddamn year. So five months you were fine and now all of a sudden...”

“It’s just because of Ovi. If he’d never come to me with that shit....”

“That was a week ago. Not a month ago. What explains the three weeks before he said anything? Are you serious right now, Tyler? What the fuck?!”

“I don’t know what more you want me to say. Do you want me to say I’m sorry? That it makes me sick that I miss it? That I fucking hate myself for even thinking about it? Is that what you want to hear? That I feel like a shit human being because of it?”

“I want you to hear you say that you don’t want to go back to it!”

“I didn’t say that’s what I wanted. I said I missed it sometimes.”

“What is there to miss? Getting stabbed? Getting shot? Getting fucked over by guys like Mahajan? Killing people?”

“No,” he scowls. “I don’t miss that. What the fuck? Is that what you think of me? That that’s who I am? That I enjoy that shit?”

“Then what the hell is it? Because it didn’t end well, Tyler. It didn’t end well in New Zealand and it sure as hell didn’t end well in Dhaka. What is there to miss?”

He struggles to keep his composure. “Esme, I don’t want to fight. Can we do this later? Can we not wait until we get home to talk about this? Can we just get this visit out of the goddamn way before talking about anything else? I just want to get to my dad’s, stay for a bit, and then leave. Then we can talk about whatever you want.”

“A month? A fucking month?”

“Esme...stop...please...I don’t want to fight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before? Why didn’t...”

“I said I don’t want to fucking fight!” He roars, and his foot slams down on the brake. Bringing the truck to an abrupt and violent halt in the middle of the backwoods country road; tires crunching on stones and gravel, sending plumes of dust and dirty swirling and dancing around them. His chest feels impossibly tight; his heart races and his lungs with every breathe he tries to draw in. He’s dizzy, nauseous; sweat gathers across his forehead and at his temples and back of his neck. And he’s suddenly aware of how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel; knuckles turning white and cracking, wounds reopening.

*****

“Tyler...”

He’s vaguely aware of the hand on his bicep and the sound of her voice; urgent and concerned. It seems as if she’s far away; distorted and muffled, as if he’s underwater and can’t quite make out what she’s saying to him. And as the pressure in his chest builds, it becomes fight of flight. He chooses the latter; throwing the truck into park and reaching for his seat belt, fingers numb and hands trembling as he struggles with the release. Frustration sets in; profanities slipping from parched lips, hot, bitter tears streaming down his cheeks.

He feels as if he’s on auto-pilot, no longer in control of his actions. And the gravel cracks and pops under his feet as he finally escapes, fresh air feeling as if it’s scalding his already aching as he draws it in large, choking gulps. Wobbling slightly with each step he takes, hands on his hips as he repeatedly paces the length of the truck. The simple counting begins to settle him; one foot in front of the other, reciting the number of steps in his head. The same way he had almost seven years ago on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. When he’d first stepped onto its war zone and began that long and tedious journey to freedom. He’d been in agonizing pain; quickly losing blood, growing weaker with each inch, yet continuing to advance. Spurred on by what he had waiting for him once he finally made it.

And then Saju’s dead body and the sniper and his useless right leg forcing him to drag himself to safety. A tearful Ovi at his side, begging him to get up.

Dhaka. Fuck. Fucking Dhaka. It makes the panic build again. Makes it all so seem real; like he’s right there again. Tasting his blood in his mouth and feeling that absence of strength and hope. But he hadn’t been ready to give up just yet. Because he had something...someone...to lose and was going to fight for them. And there’d been that glimmer of hope; when he’d gunned down those last two assailants and limped his way towards the finish line. But that little bastard Farhad had shot him from behind and...

Fuck Farhad. Fuck Dhaka. Fuck Amir and Gaspar.

He forces all thought and memory of it out of his mind; closing his eyes as he leans back against the grill of the truck. Concentrating on better things...happier things. Getting married, experiencing the birth of his ‘rainbow baby’ and all the others that came after her. Reminding himself that he has people who love him. Unconditionally. That rely on him and depend on him and make him want to be a better man. He would have given up a long ago; had he NOT had them. If Esme hadn’t have been there when he woke up in the hospital nearly seven years ago.

His breathing has returned to normal and the dizziness and nausea nonexistent when he hears one of the doors open behind him. The sudden press of her shoulder against his is comforting; it grounds him. Brings him back to the here and now. She’s done this before; talked him down from many a ledge. And he has no idea why she sticks around and keeps giving him chance after chance, but he’s thankful she does.

“Hold your daughter, Tyler,” she says, as Addie lays along her arm. “Hold her and feel how real she is. Feel that she’s here. That YOU’RE here. Not wherever your brain is telling you you are.”

“I can’t. Not like this. What if I hurt her? What if I...”

“Take her,” Esme insists, and he relents, bringing that baby...HIS baby...up to his chest; one hand on the back of her head, a forearm under the bum. She’s so tiny...so light...so fragile. So perfect and pure. And he places his nose against the side of her head; feeling her hair against his skin, taking in the soft scent that clings to her clothing and hair, feeling her warm and the beat of her heart against him.

“That’s your reason,” Esme tells him. “Your purpose. Why you have to keep fighting and not let this destroy you.”

The tears come again, a mixture of shame and guilt. That he can have so much but not even realize it or appreciate it. That he was even given these things in the first place. All the bed decisions, all the blood on his hands...

“I’m sorry.” he manages. “I am so fucking sorry.”

“For what?” Her hand is on his back, resting between his shoulders. He can’t bring himself to look at her; afraid of what he’ll see her eyes. Disgust. Disappointment. Regret. “What are you sorry for?” she asks.

“Everything. Everything fucking things. All the shit I’ve put you through. That I STILL keep putting you through. I fucking hate myself for it.”

“I know you do. And I don’t' want you to. You have no reason to hate yourself.”

“Dhaka.” He says simply.

“Dhaka has nothing to do with this. I’ve told you a million times that I don’t blame you for how things went. You did everything you could that day. For Ovi. For me. It was out of your control. There was nothing more you could have done. You don’t think I realize that?”

“On the bridge. You shouldn't have had to do what you did.”

“That’s not your fault either. I don’t blame you for what I had to do or what I saw. I don’t you responsible for that. And I sure as hell don’t hate you. What will it take to make you realize that? To stop all that guilt and all that blame and all that hate for yourself. What more do you need me to say? Because I’ll say it. Whatever you need to hear, I will tell you.”

“I don’t know,” Tyler admits. “I just don’t fucking know.”

“This has to stop. The way you shouldn’t try to deal with every goddamn thing on your own. Stop keeping shit inside and letting it eat you alive.”

“Why do even stay with me?” he asks. “When I’m such a fucking mess?”

“Because I love you. Because you’re my husband and my lover and my confidant and my best friend. Because you have a huge heart and you’re a good man that was forced to do terrible things.”

“But my brain...”

“Is troubled and beautiful and it’s going to be okay. You’re not only in this Tyler. Stop acting like you are. Let me help you. Let me love you. Please.”

Esme curls her arm around his waist and rests her head against his arm, and for several minutes never of them speak. And eventually the tears subside, and he takes a long, shaky breath and places his lips against the side of Addie’s head.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and presses a series of light, feathery kisses to his shoulder.

“Yeah...I’m okay.”

“We should just go home. You can call your dad’s and tell them that something came up and reschedule. I don’t think...”

“I’m fine. I told Millie I’d do this for her.”

“You know,” Esme muses. “You’re going to have to eventually say no to her. She's going need to learn about disappointment at some point in time.”

“Not today though. Let’s just do this. For her. Okay?”

“Okay. Do you want me to drive or...”

“You are NOT driving my truck,”

She smirks. “I think you love your truck more than me some days.”

“There’s nothing I love more than you.”

She smiles at that, and he kisses her softly. “I’ve driven your truck before,” she reminds him.

“And I’ve had it every time. You know how long it takes me to reset everything? Mirrors? Seat? I get in and my knees are up by my ears.”

“I have little legs! I can’t help it. Just because you’re absurdly tall...”

“Have you ever considered I’m normal height and you’re absurdly short?”

“You’re not normal height,” she laughs. “Not even close to it. You’re all legs and torso. And so are you kids. Well, except for this little nugget,” she smiles down at Addie. “This one is all me.”

“Poor kid.”

“Hey!” she objects and pinches his side. “That’s not nice!”

Tyler grins. “Can we still be friends?”

“Maybe. Depends how you make it up to me.”

“I’ll buy you tacos for lunch.”

“That’ll do,” she says, and stands on her tip toes to kiss him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He nods.

“I just want you to be healthy, Tyler. That’s all I want. Because I love you and I worry about you and I don’t anything happening to you. You need to stop torturing yourself so much about Dhaka. I’ve never blamed you. Or hated you. What happened is not your fault. I need you to realize that.”

“I’ll try,” he promises. “I’ll try remembering that.”

“You saved my life. Not just there. In general. In every way a person CAN be saved. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I love you,” he says, and kisses her once more. “So much.”

“I love you too. Which is why I stay. Don’t ever ask me that again.”

“I won’t.”

She presses a kiss to his shoulder and rubs the middle of this back. “When you’re ready,” she says, and gives him a small smile before returning to the truck.

He wonders if he ever will be. Ready. If he’ll be able to truly let the past go.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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batskulldrag · 5 years ago

Text

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

By now you all probably get the song titles as chapter titles gimmick. Trigger warning, because they will be discussing abuse probably throughout the story

Chapter Eleven: The Fire and The Flood by VanceJoy

Virgil was browsing Tumblr when he heard the phone ring. He lurked out to the head of the stairs and heard someone pick it up.

“Hi Thomas.” Patton answered.

Virgil tensed up, he hadn’t heard from CPS since May, what had they dug up this time? Was Thomas going to bring up another hospital visit? Was Payton out of prison, it had been about a month. What if he escaped?

“Oh,” Patton said into the receiver, sounding disappointed. “That’s good, how is she?”

“Oh.” Patton said sadly. “I guess I figured.”

“Does… I know I probably sound horrible, but does this change anything for us?”

“Ok. I guess there is some good news then. Thanks for keeping us in the loop. Ok, bye.”

“Roman,” Patton said blankly. “If you wanna start the nicknames back up you can.”

“They found the dragon?” Roman asked in shock. “Because that reptile can have our emo baby over my moldering corpse.”

Virgil leaned closer to the conversation. Did his mother want him? Could she actually and after all this time want him back? He felt dizzy. On one hand he didn’t want to hurt his uncles, they had all been amazing to him. But he couldn’t help but feel excited at the idea that his mom could actually love him. What a novel idea. She might love him.

“You don’t need to fight anyone.” Patton sighed with the weight of the world. “She waved parental rights.”

Virgil slid to the floor, cursing himself for having the gall to let his hopes build like that. Of course she didn’t want him back. She didn’t want him then. He bit down on the front of his hoodie to keep from crying.

I should have known! I figured all along! I should have known better than this! Of course she doesn’t want me! Did I really think that she was going to come in after thirteen years and decide she wants me!?! What kind of an idiot would even entertain that stupid idea?!

“Does this alter our plans to adopt him?” Logan interrupted the chaos.

“No.” Patton sighed.

“Well then, why are you upset?”

“She doesn’t want him!” Patton said exasperated. “What kind of person says that?”

“Patton, she knew full well what Payton was capable of and she left a baby with him. Not exactly an example of maternal instinct.”

“But what are we going to tell Virgil?”

“Let’s tell him she died.” Roman interrupted. “Car accident, quick and completely unexpected.”

“We’re not going to lie to him.” Logan replied. “What his mother decided does not determine his value. And it doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to adopt him.”

“How do we tell him though? How do you tell a kid that their mom would do something that heartless?” Patton whimpered.

Virgil stood up quietly and slunk back into his room. Knowing that Patton would be looking for him in a second, he turned his computer back on and tried to look like he hadn’t moved in the past hour. Sure enough, Patton knocked on his door.

“It’s open.” Virgil called casually.

“Thomas, you know your case worker, called.” Patton began.

“Did he find more hospital records?” Virgil tried to keep his voice even. “What is he doing checking all of them?”

“They, uh…”

“They were able to find your mother.” Logan said calmly. Which is odd, because he basically just teleported into the room.

“Where did you come from?” Patton yelped in shock.

“How do you not make any noise when you walk?” Virgil stared at him, utterly confused.

“I just don’t.” Logan dismissed his amazing stealth powers. “Any way, social services located your mother. She’s living in Italy now.”

“Good for her.” Virgil looked back at his computer.

“They got in touch with her and unfortunately…”

“The good news is you don’t have to learn Italian.” Patton interrupted with the fakest upbeat attitude known to man.

“Virgil, she waved her parental rights.” Logan sighed. “I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to say that.”

“Well.” Virgil heard his voice break a bit. He swallowed hard and continued passively. “I always kind of figured she would. It’s not news to me.”

Neither of them. Neither of them wants me. How can neither of them want me? How can they both just see me as a mistake? Why did they let it go this far?

Patton ran a hand through his hair. Virgil leaned into his hand in response. Patton radiated a soothing heat. Not like being trapped in a fire hot, but like a fluffy blanket that just came out of the dryer. Cozy, that was the word. Patton was cozy.

“You sure you’re ok?” Patton kept petting him.

“Yeah,” Virgil fought back tears. “This just confirms what I already thought.”

“Virgil, I want you to know that this doesn’t determine your value.” Logan put a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. And Patton and I are still planning to adopt you, that hasn’t changed.”

“Why?” Virgil felt his resolve start to crack.

“Because you’re family.” Patton hugged him. “And we want you to be safe.”

“I mean why doesn’t she…”

No, don’t you do this! Don’t! don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t cry!

“Why doesn’t she love me?” Virgil sobbed, his resolve shattering around him.

Patton held him while he cried. That’s what Patton does. Logan sat with them, probably extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation. But there none the less.

Virgil hadn’t really used the word love in a long time. Especially not in reference to his parents. And he definitely hadn’t asked why neither of them loved him in a long time. Hell, he had tried to convince himself that he didn’t care if they loved him or not.

And then here was Patton and Logan. They thought they loved him, but he wasn’t sure they did. He wasn’t sure they could. He had constantly heard things about how parents are just automatically loving. Apparently, fathers keep you safe and mothers nurture you. And they both love you and want what’s best for you.

That didn’t fit. Virgil had never met his mother. In fact, she left the continent just to be away from him. And she probably had a new family now, one that she supposedly nurtured, one that he sure as taxes wasn’t a part of. And then there was his dad. Protecting? No. A thousand times no.

This left him wondering why Patton and Logan thought they loved him. He was a complete stranger to them, and it was starting to look like he was a burden as well. How could they love him? Logan emphasized with him because they had… that in common and Patton probably liked him because he was his nephew. But love? If his own parents didn’t love him, how could these two?

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault.” Patton continued to pet him.

“He’s right. This doesn’t reflect on you. It reflects on them.” Logan squeezed his shoulder.

Virgil pressed his head into Patton’s chest. He had cried in front of them a lot since he wound up here, and they never said anything about it. They just let him. There was no mocking or any consequences. They just let him cry. Just like that.

“This is stupid.” Virgil pulled away from his uncle. “I knew she didn’t want me. I’ve always known. Why am I even upset?”

“Just because you know something doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you.” Logan rubbed his back. “And you have every right to be upset.”

“If its any consolation,” Patton added. “We want you.”

Why?

“Ok.” Virgil sighed. “Thank you.”

# # #

“It’s not fair.” Patton mumbled as he and Logan walked down the stairs.

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do.” Logan wrapped his arm around him. “We can’t change how people think. We just have to be decent people to make up for it.”

“He was so sad.”

“He’ll be ok. He’s a strong kid and we’re going to be here to help him.”

“I guess.” Patton stared at his feet.

“He’s already made amazing progress.”

“I know, but.” Patton looked towards Virgil’s room and back at Logan. “All Payton had to do was leave Virgil here when he left. Why? Why did he take the baby?”

“If there is a god, then only he knows.” Logan sighed.

“Is he ok?” Roman asked the second he saw them.

“He’s upset.” Patton sighed.

“He has every right to be.” Roman glared at the floor. “How do two terrible people make a decent kid? The dragon and Payton are both so vile that I honestly expected their child to hatch from an egg with scales and fangs.”

“We can’t prove that she didn’t lay an egg.” Patton countered. “And Payton must have gotten some kind of recessive jerk genes. Because Mom was great, and so were our grandparents. And I always try to do the right thing. I wanna be a good person.”

“You are a good person, Padre.” Roman said immediately. “Just ask anyone.”

“I don’t know. All of this is kind of my fault.” Patton rubbed his arm.

“Isn’t it a good thing that Virgil was taken away from his abusive father?” Logan challenged him.

“I think if I had tried to get custody sooner, then maybe none of this would have happened.” Patton looked at the floor.

“Well, all we can really do is handle things as they are now.” Logan put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “We can’t go back in time.”

“He’s right.” Roman agreed, that was uncommon. “We have to focus on what to do now. The past isn’t going to come back just because we regret it.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Logan added.

“Ok.” Patton sighed. “All that matters is now.”

# # #

Logan exhaled hard and got out of bed. Patton mumbled incoherently and wrapped himself around his pillow, still sound asleep. Logan smiled down at him before grabbing one of his books and leaving the room.

Logan had dealt with insomnia for about as long as he could remember. He was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder in college, but his doctor believed that he developed it when he was a kid. The one and only thing he got from normalization therapy. Even the name sounded like a horror movie cult. He shook that off. It was over now.

As he entered the living room, he heard the shower running. He looked at the clock, now wondering if it was morning already. No, it was about two am. So, who was taking a shower at this time of the night?

He could be sure that it wasn’t Patton. And Roman probably wouldn’t be up, unless he was just now getting ready for bed. Which he was prone to do. But, the most likely option was that it was Virgil. Now the only question was why.

Virgil lurked into the living room wearing his black hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants and drying his hair with a towel. Logan sighed in relief, thankful beyond words that Virgil wasn’t naked. Logan tried to figure out how to make himself known without metaphorically scaring the life out Virgil.

But, as it turned out, Virgil was far more alert than anyone had considered and the very next thing he did was look up. He yelped softly and shoved his towel over his mouth to keep from screaming, startled by Logan’s sudden appearance.

“Sorry,” Logan held out his hands. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just me.”

“Geeze!” Virgil squeaked. “Where did you come from? Why are you standing in the middle of the living room? Why are you a ninja ghost?”

“I came downstairs because I couldn’t sleep.” Logan quickly explained. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up.”

“Then we feel the same.” Virgil sighed. “I think you took twenty years off my life. That’s an expression.”

“I know it’s an expression.”

“Why are you up?”

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I have PTSD. It keeps me from sleeping sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s a thing that people casually mention.” Virgil added sarcastically.

“I realize that you’re being sarcastic. But I feel no shame over things that I can’t control. I am defined by what I do, not by what is done to me.”

“That’s pretty.” Virgil commented blankly. “How did you come to have PTSD, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“There was a practice called ‘Quiet Hands’ in which autistic children were kept from stimming. If they didn’t stop on command they would be restrained. Many children developed trauma disorders thanks to this.”

“What’s stimming?”

“Stimming is something autistic people use to express or process feelings. Usually through repeated actions but sometimes verbally by repeating a word or phrase. I normally clap my hands.”

“When you say restrained, I’m picturing straightjackets and gurneys.” Virgil looked at him for assurance that he was wrong.

“No, the therapist just grabbed my hands and held them in place. But I’m sure she was also thinking about straightjackets.”

“Geeze, at least Payton let me talk.” Virgil looked at the floor. “I mean, I don’t think he ever listened to me. Unless he wanted to insult me. But that was one of the few things I never got hit for.”

“Virgil.” Logan walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you awake?”

“I wet the bed again.” Virgil grimaced and tensed up as if he were bracing himself.

“Well, make a note to talk about that with Emile in your next session. Until then, maybe you ought to avoid fluids after nine.”

“That’s it?” Virgil looked up at him skeptically. “You’re not mad, you’re not gonna make fun of me? Just that?”

“I’d like to think that I can react to things without resorting to violence.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Especially when dealing with the mundane.”

“Uncle Logan,” Virgil hesitated and bit his lip. “How… how did you manage to… I don’t know. How’d you start trusting people?”

“That was a slow process.” Logan sighed. “I think the first people I ever trusted were Roman and his brother. I met them in middle school, and they were nice to me, treated me like a human. I was wary of the pair at first, but they just kind of… got through to me. I don’t remember deciding to trust either of them, but I guess I did.”

“Ok.” Virgil looked at the ceiling.

“I also want you to understand that trust has to be earned. I trusted Roman because he treated me decently and didn’t take advantage.”

“Do I…” He kept his eyes on the ceiling. “Do I have to testify against my dad?”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Logan tilted Virgil’s head back towards him. “If you’re not comfortable facing him, then no one is going to make you.”

“I don’t want to be afraid of him.” His voice shook.

“I know.” Logan knelt to eye level. “But it’s ok if you are. It’s a normal reaction. And what’s most important, is he is never getting his hands on you again.”

“What if he fights this? You know him, you know he will.”

“He doesn’t have a metaphorical leg to stand on. The evidence against him continuously grows. He has backed himself into the proverbial corner to end all corners.”

“What if he just drags this out until you can’t afford to fight him?” He had tears in his eyes now.

“Virgil, we’re only suing him as a formality so we can include you on our health insurance. Even if he somehow keeps custody, he’s still going to prison for arson. And he’s going to stay there until you’re twenty. This isn’t the video game boss fight. This is the moment when we all get to watch his actions come back to haunt him.”

“What if they don’t believe me?”

“This isn’t ‘he says you say,’ no one in their right mind would believe him over evidence.”

“He put me in the hospital last year.” Virgil said quickly in ragged breaths.

“We know, I’m sorry.” Logan soothed.

“He…he.” Virgil wrapped his arms around himself. “He told them I couldn’t have morphine.”

“Why?” He knew but couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I guess he wanted me to be in pain.” Virgil whimpered. “And he wanted to prove a point. Like the doctors believed him, and they never asked me. And they took his word for it.”

“It’s ok. It’s ok.” Logan hugged him. “It’s over now. You’re safe now. I promise. I swear to you that he is never getting you back.”

“But they…”

“Did an unbelievably stupid thing by not checking your records.” Logan cut him off. “And this situation is completely different from that one. This time you have people on your side. And we have more than enough evidence to keep him from so much as writing you a letter.”

“Yeah?” He squeaked.

“Virgil, when I first came here Patton and his mother promised me that I would never go back to my parents.” Logan pulled back to look him in the eyes. “And I’m making you that same promise. To borrow a phrase from Roman: Payton can have you over my moldering corpse.”

Virgil buried his face in Logan’s shoulder.

“Uncle Logan, have you seen your parents since then? Like bumped into them in the mall or the post office or something?”

“I have. But admittedly, I just duck out quickly to avoid being seen by them. Sometimes we can forget that our parents are mortal.”

“What,” Virgil leaned back. “Like they’re gods or demons or something?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Virgil nuzzled back into Logan’s shoulder and sat there quietly for a minute. Logan ran his fingers through the younger man’s hair.

“I’ll do it.” Virgil mumbled. “I wanna testify against him.”

“Are you sure?” Logan asked, surprised. “You don’t have to, and you don’t have to decide right now.”

“I know.” Virgil nodded. “But, I’m not gonna be afraid of him anymore. And I want him to know that he doesn’t scare me. I’m done being his plaything.”

“Ok.” Logan stroked his hair. “I want you to think about it for a while though. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“I mean it. If you want to do this, then great. But if not, you don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Ok.” Logan let him go. “Do you want one of your pills?”

“No. I think I’ll be able to get back to sleep.”

“Ok. Good night.”

“Good night.” Virgil hugged him. “And thank you.”

Virgil returned to his room and Logan pulled himself off the floor. Despite making sure his nephew knew that he didn’t have to testify against Payton, he was incredibly proud that he wanted to. The ability to stand up to your abuser like that took proverbial guts and a whole lot of real courage. Logan knew that. And he realized that Virgil knew that too. And more importantly, this meant that Virgil was beginning to realize that Payton was wrong. And that alone was worth everything.

Logan was surprised to find himself yawning. It seemed that his conversation had bedded down his own metaphorical demons. It at least reminded him that he was dealing with thoughts rather than monsters. Simple, easy to defeat memories. He smiled to himself and walked back to his and Patton’s room, half remembering the times when he played with the baby in the middle of the night because neither of them could sleep.

Payton’s son, not so much. But his. His and Patton’s. Logan laughed softly.

Who would have ever thought of him as a dad?

# # #

“Mwaah.” Patton gleefully enunciated as he pressed the chess horsey into Logan’s cheek.

“Are you pleased with yourself?” Logan asked stoically.

“Nay-be.”

Virgil laughed from his place across from Logan. Finally. Someone who liked dad jokes.

Logan and Virgil started playing chess after dinner, Virgil called black the second he saw the board, leaving Logan with white. In the meantime, Roman occasionally piped in to annoy Logan, and Patton played with all the defeated pieces. Virgil had knocked down one of Logan’s horses and Logan had used his pointy face to kill one of Virgil’s castles. And all the knobby boys had been defeated.

“You’re quite good.” Logan said amusedly as his pointy face took out Virgil’s other castle. “But I think you play it a little too safe. You’re mostly using your pieces to block the king and queen. It might do you better to play offensively.”

“There should be a prince character. Or at least a dragon.” Roman added, fiddling with the castle. “If you’re going to make things up, at least make a fun game out of it.”

“What part of chess is made up?” Logan eyed him.

“This isn’t how battles work, for one.” Roman listed. “And chess has walking castles. How is that realistic?”

“Sounds like Roman wants to play D and D.” Virgil chimed in. “Uncle Logan, my queen kills your bishop.”

Patton took the pointy face.

“Excellent move.” Logan’s eyes lit up. “But you already lost your rooks, a fatal error.”

“I would rather die standing than live kneeling.” Virgil grinned.

“Members of the clergy don’t fight in wars.” Roman added, dumbfounded.

“What if god told them to?” Virgil asked. “Like the crusades?”

Before Roman could argue, his phone rang.

“I fear for the worst.” Roman sighed before answering. “Hello?”

Roman listened for a moment.

“Hang on one second, I need to embarrass my nephew.” Roman pressed his phone against his chest and looked at Virgil. “Verge, they need a nude model for the still life class at the civic center, they asked for you by name. They offered to pay extra if you still have that birthmark.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT!!!??” Virgil yelped, jumping up and pulling his shirt over the back of his pants. He was completely red.

“I used to babysit you a lot. That includes changing diapers and giving baths.”

“I’m in hell.” Virgil said blankly.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes.” Roman said to the other end of the phone and hung up. “I extend my apologies, but I am needed in other places.”

“I still don’t understand how you can do that.” Patton shivered. “The idea of it terrifies me.”

“Trust me Padre, I’m not the one who is exposed.”

“Hi, I’m Virgil,” Virgil introduced himself. “I’m new here and don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Roman occasionally works as a nude model for a still life class.” Logan answered.

“I’m sorry I asked.” Virgil grimaced.

“It’s not sexual.” Roman emphasized. “It’s like drawing a tree.”

“But you still stand there, in front of all those people.” Patton blushed. “And they draw you… naked.”

“Patton, I was saving this.” Roman sighed. “But I’ll pull it out now if I must.”

“No, please. I’m a minor.” Virgil pulled his hood over his eyes.

“I was not talking about… THAT!” Roman blushed. “I would never! That! Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“Virgil embarrassed Roman.” Patton announced. “Logan mark the calendar. Someone embarrassed Roman.”

“I never thought I’d see the day.” Logan added.

“Right.” Roman said as he walked towards the door. “I shall see you in a few hours.”

“Wait, what were you gonna say?” Patton asked foolishly.

“Just.” Roman stared evilly. “That you and Logan think you’re so quiet. Love you, bye.”

The door closed. Patton and Logan both looked at each other in horror.

“I am going to pretend that didn’t happen.” Virgil said quickly. “Who’s Roman? Uncle Logan, it’s your move. Try to kill my queen.”

Logan shook off his shock and looked down at the board. Using his queen, he killed Virgil’s. Patton took the dead queen.

“So, you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?” Virgil sang.

“So, you think you can love me and leave me to diiiie?” Patton gleefully continued.

“I believe it’s your move, Freddie.” Logan smiled.

Virgil sent one of his horses over to Logan’s queen.

“No time for losers.” Logan killed the horse with his queen.

“That’s the wrong song.” Virgil sent over his other horsey. “But I am losing.”

“I can’t tell who’s winning.” Patton added happily.

Patton’s two boys played for a few more minutes.

“Check mate.” Logan announced calmly.

“And now a Shakespearean paly will start in what is left of my country.” Virgil looked down at the board. “Good game Uncle Logan.”

“You played very well yourself.” Logan smiled. “And you called all the pieces by their proper names. A rarity in this household.”

“If you keep on talking Logan,” Patton lead on. “You might get…”

“Do not do it.” Logan stared at him.

“A little horse.” Patton popped the horsey up from under the table.

“Hey, Uncle Patton.” Virgil called, holding one of the horses up over the board. “It’s a horse fly.”

“Of all the things to be hereditary.” Logan sighed.

“Ok, we’ll stop… horsing around.”

“I married you.” Logan said stunned.

“Last one. I promise.” Virgil set his horsey down. “The dark knight.”

“That was actually funny.” Logan said angrily.

“Oh! I have a great idea!” Patton hopped up and down a bit. “Meet me in the living room.”

Patton darted upstairs to his closet and pulled out three of his scrap books. Scrapbooking was a personally favorite of his, memories and glitter. And decorating. It was the best.

He checked to make sure they were the books he wanted and darted downstairs with them. Both Logan and Virgil were waiting for him on the couch. He nestled himself between them and opened the first book.

“I was wondering when you were going to pull these out.” Logan said, putting his arm around him.

“Well, we need to show Virgil.” Patton beamed and turned to his little anxious baby. “You’re going to be these a lot more now. We need to make up for lost time.”

“Ok?” Virgil looked confused.

“Ok. Here’s me in freshmen year of high school.” Patton pointed down at the first picture on the page.

“What the hell happened?” Virgil looked on in pure shock.

In the picture Patton was smiling from behind some incredibly thick braces that made his teeth look like iron plates. They almost looked worse than the head gear that accompanied them.

“Oh, I tried to do a flip. You know, the kind where you run up the wall?” Patton explained. “And I face planted into a tree and knocked out my two front teeth.”

“Years of corrective dental treatments ensued.” Logan added.

“My favorite piece was the retainer with two fake teeth in it.” Patton smiled. “I pulled some funny pranks with that one. I’m almost sad that I got permanent implants.”

“So, you used to take your teeth out and harass people with them?” Virgil made a face of disgust and intrigue.

“He mostly just held them out to people and asked if he had something in his teeth.” Logan answered. “It wasn’t very funny.”

“Sure, it was.” Patton added, moving on to the next few pictures. “Here’s me and Payton at Easter, Mom always had us dress up all nice so she could take pictures. And here’s me and Payton as altar boys. And us at Christmas.”

He turned the page and was hit with several play brochures. And one picture of Roman, clad in a dress of green and orange taffeta that clashed horridly in a sultry pose with the stupidest look on his face.

“Why?” Virgil asked, stunned.

“Roman got to play Mona in Cinderella’s Mice.” Patton explained. “He wanted to be the prince, but he had a lot of fun with his character.”

“Wow. Must have been a great show when he came out.” Virgil retorted.

“Nearly everyone claimed to have ‘called it’ if I remember correctly.” Logan added.

“Oh, here it is.” Patton clapped his hands happily.

Centered in the page was a group photo of him, Logan, Roman and Remus all in different dresses. The twins went all out, naturally, with Roman in a red satin prom dress with matching shoes and purse. And Remus wearing a tight black leather skirt, fishnet stockings, knee length stiletto boots and a green blouse tied around his chest so that his entire stomach, complete with a long pink scar, showed. Logan was more subtle, wearing a floor length black skirt to complement his black polo shirt and blue tie. Patton himself had borrowed one of his mother’s dresses. A beautiful blue sundress with a yellow floral pattern, he accessorized with a white sunhat that had a long yellow ribbon tied in a bow. They were the prettiest boys in the school.

“He’s real.” Virgil gasped, looking right at Remus’s picture.

“Of course, he’s real.” Logan responded. “Did you think we were gaslighting you?”

“I just kinda thought that no one was that crazy.”

“Remus really isn’t as bad as Patton makes him sound.”

“He bit Payton.” Patton argued. “Hard enough to draw blood. And what about when he got his glass eye? How many people did he terrorize with that?”

“Now he only has one eye?” Virgil interrupted. “Are we sure he’s real?”

“He has both eyes.” Logan explained. “He just also has a glass eye that he would torment people with.”

“Let’s just move on.” Patton tried to stifle his gag reflex, he did not, ever, want to think about Remus’s eye again. “Here’s all the petitions that came out of it. The petition from the super religious kids saying that guys should be banned from wearing skirts. Roman’s petition that says if they do that, girls shouldn’t be allowed to wear pants, for the double standard. Logan’s essay slash petition saying that pants were originally a female garment and skirts were worn by men, so the girls should have to only wear pants and the guys only wear skirts. Then Remus sent out one saying that we need to ban the dress code all together and just show up to school naked. A petition to stop all petitions, one to repaint the school with reflective paint so that it’ll be invisible, one to tear down the school and build a strip club, and my favorite, one to move the state of Florida four feet and seven inches to the right.”

That one did it, Virgil doubled over laughing. He actually fell off the couch and curled up on the floor, crying from laughing. And it was adorable. He had the cutest little laugh, his face got all red and he closed his eyes so tight. He was just the most precious little baby.

Coughing and sniffling, Virgil climbed back onto the couch. He chuckled lightly to himself as he sat down and turned his attention back to the book.

Patton turned the page and saw his brother, dressed to the nines with a dark-haired girl on his arm. He was taking her to the spring fling or some other school function.

Wow, Virgil looks like his dad. A bit darker, but that must be from his mom. He definitely has her hair. Different freckles from Payton, but it’s undeniably his genes that put them there. He looks so much like him in the face, the shape is identical. It’s uncanny.

“Is that her?” Virgil asked softly, also seeming transfixed by the image.

“Yeah. That’s her.” Patton said numbly.

He couldn’t even muster up the ability to hate her. Patton felt nothing for her. She abandoned her baby and left him with Payton of all people. Sure, Payton probably was rotten to her, as he was to most people he was close to, but she left a baby with him. Could Virgil really mean so little to her? Mean nothing?

“You ok Uncle P?” Virgil looked up at him.

“It’s nothing.” Patton shook his head.

Virgil stared down at the picture with a curious glimmer in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but instead bit his lip and started chewing on his one of his band aids. He looked away quickly, the hint of longing still reflected in his brown irises.

“Do you wanna know what she was like kiddo?” Patton asked chipperly as he fought back the ice.

“No.” Virgil didn’t look up. “I don’t care.”

Patton and Logan met each other’s eyes. They both knew he was lying. He might as well have tried to tell them the moon was invisible.

“Well, she was very pretty. And very talented. And very popular.” Patton said with a smile. “And she can’t have been shallow, after all, Payton isn’t exactly a ten.”

“I said I don’t care.” Virgil turned the page. “For all I care she had three eyes.”

The next page was covered in Virgil’s baby pictures. One featured Roman grinning proudly as he stood beside a paper mâché egg that had been broken in half horizontally. He had positioned Virgil, no more than a week old so that his lower half was inside the shell as the rest of him lay asleep outside it. On the baby’s head, carefully positioned, was the smallest part or the egg that he now wore as a hat.

“Roman never did like your mom.” Logan added blankly. “He constantly called her a dragon.”

What the liar didn’t add was that he was taking the picture. Logan was no saint when it came to either of Virgil’s biological parents. As the moth food story would prove.

“It’s a cute picture though.” Patton changed the subject.

Virgil sat there quietly with a faraway look in his eyes. He chewed on one of his band aids robotically, pensively.

Patton suddenly realized that this was the first time Virgil had ever seen a picture of his mom. And up until now all he knew about her was… was that she didn’t want him. Patton wrapped his arm around Virgil and snuggled up to him. There were times when it was easier to talk with cuddles, this was one of them.

“You thinking big thoughts sweetie?” Patton asked gently.

“What?” Virgil laughed.

“Sorry, that’s what I ask my kids when they zone out. It’s another substitute for ‘penny for your thoughts’ that sounds more fun.”

“That just means if I tell you, I don’t get any cookies.” Virgil reasoned.

“Trust me, Patton will gladly distribute sweets.” Logan added.

“I’m fine.” Virgil smiled. “I was just going over that chess game in my head. I plan to win the next one.”

“Plans change.” Logan adjusted his glasses smoothly.

“Damn.” Virgil whispered in admiration.

“Oh, here’s a picture of you and mom.” Patton squeaked. “She loved you so much.”

“She wasn’t mad to be a young grandmother?” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Well, when Hazel left you with Payton, mom didn’t want to put you up for adoption. But she wasn’t gonna force Payton to be a parent, so I think she was just planning to keep you. But she got sick.”

Virgil rubbed Patton’s arm softly to console him.

“I’m ok, Sweetie.” Patton sighed. “That was a long time ago.”

Patton looked for another picture to distract them from all the bad feelings that hung heavy in the air. His eyes landed on one of Logan asleep on the couch, Virgil sound asleep in his heavily bruised arms. Despite Logan’s protests, he still blamed himself for that.

“Here’s you and Logan.” Patton chirped. “You were maybe about five months old. The pictures aren’t exactly in sequence. But you loved him when you were little.”

“Really?” Virgil briefly looked up from the image.

“You did. Whenever you saw him you started clapping your little hands.”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Patton never could figure out why he always reacted that way to Virgil’s clapping at him.

“And here’s a picture from when you said your first word.” Logan pointed to a different part of the page. “Yes, I realize how odd that may sound.”

The picture showed Patton holding the baby while crying excitedly.

“Your first word was pat.” Patton beamed.

“How exciting.” Virgil said blankly.

“He’s happy because you were trying to say ‘Patton’.” Logan explained.

“It was so adorable.”

Virgil smiled slightly at them, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he snuggled up to Patton and listened contentedly as they reminisced.

Patton sighed happily. Virgil didn’t feel as light and fragile as he had when he first came to stay. He had gained a nice amount of weight back and felt much warmer, not like a fever warm as he had felt, but a normal body heat type of warmth. The kind that means someone is healthy.

Patton wished once again for his camera to immortalize this moment but instead he continued showing Virgil the pictures. He had a better wish in mind. He wished that moments like this would be frequent. That these times would be commonplace and that he would never be able to recall a specific one, because there were just so many.

From now on his little anxious baby would never again have to wonder if anyone loved him.

“Aww,” Patton said out loud as he turned the page. “Here’s one of your little birthmark.”

The birthmark in question was a patch of red skin with three accompanying spots above it that was just between Virgil’s lower back and his bottom. Roman often teased that he would be growing a tail, while Patton insisted that it looked like a paw print.

“We’re not talking about the birthmark.” Virgil turned the page, beet red.

Patton and Logan both laughed.

#logicallity #parental anological #parental moxiety #platonic lamp #romanisanuncle #sanders sides human au #pattonsanders #logan sanders #romansanders #virgilsanders

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rainy-rose · 5 years ago

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The Kilveh’s Inheritance: Rena and Raflec (out of context snippet)

TW: semi-graphic to graphic depiction of a wing retreating into the body

Sleep came to him in small doses, never committing to a full slumber. The wind outside the den was rustling almost barren branches. One of the wolves, probably Serka, was having a nightmare; small whimpers could be heard and her paws were constantly hitting his leg. He opened his eyes and moved away only to be met with a sleepy, superficial, yet frightful scratch from Yrsa. His elbow had landed on the squirrel’s bushy tail by accident. He cursed under his breath, sighed and tried finding another semi comfortable position… if only the wings… wing… would let him.

“Raflec! Raflec come see!”

His eyes snapped open. He knew that voice, knew it very well. He pressed his lips and waited. It must have been a dream. There was no way she was there.

“Raflec come on! You ain’t sleepin’ anyway!”

He jolted again, sitting up, blinking towards the entrance of the den. The moon was not bright enough for him to see what was outside. He could picture her now: her tick braid, green and brown dress, white apron specked with flour and creams, small hands on her hips or crossed under her breasts, stern face that barely hid the amused quirk of her lips. There was a figure outside, short, arms folded, the moon behind her making it almost impossible to figure out any features.

Crawling, he made his way out. The pain, almost agony caused by the discrepancy in his wings made every movement harder, but he bit his tongue and crawled.

“There you are, little crow!” she said, warmth and a bit of impatience dressing her words.

Raflec sighed, he knew that tone, he’d heard it daily for almost eight years. It was synonymous with safety and home. He closed his eyes, tapping into the training Yrale had instilled in him. The wing trembled and moved, slowly, painfully; bones cracked, black feathers, some small some big, fell to the ground, blood trickled down his back as the wing made its way back into his body. It took several agonizing minutes, his breath shallow and his mind tense. He had to focus. The wing had to disappear without the other one reappearing. He’d done this before, on numerous occasions, during his stay with Yrale, but never one wing at a time. He had to be careful, remembering their precise training through clouds of spasms and shakes. Careful, so very careful. A mistake in the process could lead to a broken rib or a pierced lung and that was an experience he did not want to repeat. He tightened his eyes against the familiar feeling of bone girding against bone as they rearranged, muscles and skin moving, making room for the intrusive, yet well known part of the body. By the end he was panting, drenched in sweat and blood, the tattered back of his shirt wet. He coughed and let out a small, quiet groan as the wing settled with its sister, both of them barely visible, much like shadows under his bronze skin.

“You’ gotten better at this, good job!” she said matter-of-factly, as if she’d been present as he learned. She hadn’t.

“Rena! You… how?” he stammered as his body stopped shaking and the pain subsided, except for the old numbness in his right wrist under an ocher-black patch of skin.

She did not answer. Just smiled a small knowing smile. “Come ‘ere!” she said opening her arms.

Raflec went to her although it was more stumbling than running. He hugged her tightly, almost tackling her to the ground. Rena laughed, serene and a bit teasing. He buried his face in her hair. He was taller than her now, a whole head taller. It was unusual and he felt big and awkward, no longer the small eight-year-old that could hide in her stomach or neck on the rare occasions she picked him up. She smelled nice, a mix of baking goods, forest and wild flowers, but it was faint, a mere whisper of the usual scent of her skin. He did not dwell on it that much, just took a deep breath and clung to her almost for dear life. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her hair. His eyes were wet with yet unshed tears, vague memories flashing through his brain bringing a different kind of pain to the surface.

“Shhh, I’m not ‘ere for that, little crow, shhh. It’s all right!” she reassured him, gently stroking his back, a soft touch between his fresh, bleeding wounds.

“How come you’re here? What did you want to show me?” he asked in a shaky voice, scrunching his nose and dragging his hand over his eyes a few times, rough enough to make them red and puffy.

She gently took his hand in hers, putting a stop to the motion. Her eyes searched his and waited until there was no sign of tears. Then she waited some more until his hand was still. She gave it a light squeeze. “That was bait to lure you out of there,” she said all traces of her previous amusement gone. Her tone and face were grave. She seemed older, taller, sharper. He gulped, once, twice. This version of Rena did not accept any goofing around or talking back and he knew that. It had been eight years and the small change in her demeanor still had the same effect.

“You’re goin’ the wrong way!” she started, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, arms folded. “You’ll never get to Merdur on time if you keep goin’ like this!”

“But Calia and Yrale said…”

Rena sighed. Years might have passed; he was older now but still so childish sometimes. “I know what they said.”

He blinked in confusion at this, she hadn’t been there! If Rena saw his disagreement, she did not make a show of it, just kept talking. “They said Merdur will wait for you and the pack to arrive, but you’re forgettin’ somethin’. Merdur is on their own mission from Isled, same as Yrale. They can’t stay in one place for too long, you know that!”

Raflec looked at her, a mixture of fear and uncertainty on his boyish face. “So what now? How late is it? What can we do now?” he asked, biting his lip and shifting from one foot to the other, his shoulders hunched forward.

“Well you’d ‘ave t-”

“Raflec? What are you doing here? It’s not your turn to keep watch yet. Why are you up?”

He turned as Suna made her way towards him, nose in the air, sniffing, a patch of darker fur around her muzzle. She approached carefully, fangs showing, her paws making almost no sound on the soft ground.

“Rena told me we’re on the wrong track!” he told his wolf-sister, vaguely gesturing towards the tree.

The wolf tilted her head. There was nothing there. She circled the trunk, nose still high in the air, sniffing. Then she jammed her head in his stomach pushing him back towards the den. “You saw you sibling in your dreams again?” she asked hiding her worry behind amusement. “Come on! We’ll discuss a new route tomorrow when we’re all rested.”

He planted his hands deep in her fur trying to stop her. The wolf was stronger, however, and he only managed to fall, landing on his butt. Suna nibbled at his shirt playfully, her tail high in the air. “I have more than one way to drag you back in there” she challenged, her right front paw gently hitting and scratching at his chest.

The two bickered for a little while longer, Raflec’s laughter mixing with Suna’s growls. Behind them, at the base of the tree a patch of small, red flowers looked on.

Taglist (reply/message me if you want to be added - criticism is always welcomed): @rinah-creates (sank you for the help) @elizabethfictionwriting

#writeblr #moodboard #writing #my writing #fantasy #aspiring writer #my ocs #raflec's story/the kilveh's inheritance #raflec of pyro #rena #suna

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ververa · 5 years ago

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The End

It’s supposed to be the last chapter of “You are enough”

youtube

(Maybe it’s not the most relevant song, but I think it works good with the chapter. Also it helped me while writing, so here it’s anyway)

YOU ARE ENOUGH - CHAPTER 12 - THE END

Ellie Staple x Ronnie

Words: 2.692

Hope you enjoy it

“You are the hole in my head You are the space in my bed You are the silence in between What I thought and what I said”

Dr Ellie Staple spent almost a half of her life working as a psychiatrist. She had a huge experience in that field. She cured a lot of people and became a well-known, respected psychiatrist.

No wonder everyone wanted to cooperate with her. She was an incredibly compassionate human being. Always dedicated to her work and patients. She was one in a million and turned out to be invaluable help for the Clover Organisation.

When she decided to join the elaborated secret society, Ellie hadn’t even thought that one day it all can turn against her. She had no idea that she may care about something, or rather somebody, more than she did about her job.

Their purpose was good – they wanted to maintain the balance in the world. That sounded like a good plan. The right way to change the world for better. They claimed that superhuman beings could be a threat to normal citizens, so the members of the Organisation were trying to stop them. Their aim was to prevent superheroes from gaining a foothold in the wider consciousness, no matter the costs.

Ellie’s greatest strength had always been her brain. That turned out to be really helpful, when she was creating her own theory and a way of treatment for those, who believed they had superpowers. Everything, every case, action, accident was explainable. Her brain was able to find justification for everything. But that changed. She met Ronnie and suddenly things stopped being obvious and easy to explain.

The girl captivated her in the way nobody had ever done. First she got to Ellie’s head. Almost like some kind of virus, for which there was no cure. The virus that spreads until it overtakes every inch of the body and infects the most important organs – a brain and a heart.

That was the power of true and loving affection. And that felt like something supernatural. It was strange at first. Unknown and completely new, but it was a good feeling. As if Ellie found something that she hadn’t even known she was missing. Her heart became so full and that felt like magic. Ronnie was like her oxygen without which she wouldn’t be able to live. The only light in her life and she wasn’t able to see things the same without Ronnie by her side. She was in a shadow of the girl’s heart, but it felt too good to exchange it for anything. Even her job didn’t matter that much any more. She didn’t want to save the world. She only wanted to keep Ronnie safe and have the girl close all the time.

Though Ellie couldn’t just like that quit working for the organisation. She was still its member and it wasn’t easy to back out of it.

It was supposed to be the last time. Her last case before coming back to the normal work. To typical hospital and treating “ordinary” people.

Raven Hill Memorial it was. Ellie’s new destination. Her new place of work. She had been given 3 days to cure a group of three men. That was the deal…

“You are the night-time fear You are the morning when it's clear When it's over you'll start You're my head, you're my heart”

Going to the university Ronnie hadn’t foreseen that she and Ellie wouldn’t be able to spend with each other as much time as they used to. They were both too busy. Their schedules didn’t consort. Ellie started to work more. Though that wasn’t all. Ronnie didn’t want to admit it at first, but her lover started to act differently. Weird phone calls at night, working till late, leaving before Ronnie get up. It felt as if Staple was avoiding her on purpose. She wasn’t a caring and loving girlfriend like before. It wasn’t nice, of course, but what Ronnie could do. Ellie had never been the one to open up or talk about problems.

She was legitimising it with Ellie having a lot of things going on at work. She wanted to believe it. She truly did, but couldn’t help the thoughts that were crossing her mind. What if she wasn’t enough any more? What if Ellie got bored? What if she didn’t love her? What if she had someone…?

The girl was well aware that such way of thinking was rather irrational. It was more destructive than helpful, but still despite her knowledge and awareness, it was stronger.

Also the fact that they were spending most of the time in different places was making it worse. She tried not to show it. Kept herself composed. Acted calm, but she lost her shit when Ellie left, once again, and didn’t have time to even call her. Staple excused herself with work, but Ronnie’s mind knew better.

The girl wasn’t the one to give up easily, but she felt like some faulty product rejected by the costumer, when Ellie kept o rejecting her calls. She tried. She wanted to have her old Ellie back, but how long could she keep on fighting for her attention and affection…

“No light, no light in your bright blue eyes I never knew daylight could be so violent A revelation in the light of day You can't choose what stays and what fades away”

Ellie didn’t realise that she was constantly pushing the girl away. She was too focused on her job, which she wanted to finish – quickly and effectively, as she always did. However, that time was different.

It didn't go as planned. The world wasn't supposed to know about the superheroes existence and most importantly it wasn't supposed to find out about the Clover Organization. Definitely not in such a way if anything.

The members just wanted to maintain the balance in the world. And they did it by eliminating superhuman beings. It was for good of everyone, right? But as the videos from Raven Hill Memorial Hospital seeped to the public it all was thrown away.

Ellie couldn't believe that it actually happened. She was cooperating with the organization for quite some time and things had never got out of control like that before. She used to go from city to city with the aim of hunting down incidents of superheroism and with help from other members simply shutting them down before they managed to get too much attention. But that time... That time was different. It didn't go according to the plan.

Her therapy – supposed to revoke the process, that had changed the 3 men's brains, didn't work. Actually, it did – partially. They did believe their thinking was only a delusion. But she didn't manage to spare their lives. Her treatment did not enable to did it in a nonlethal way...

Ellie felt helpless. She's the one in charge and she lost control. The Organization was revealed. She was revealed. Everyone in the city, in the country or maybe even all around the world saw them killing people that seemed to be defenceless.

The psychiatrist could feel how tensed her body was. It felt as if her brain was going to explode. She wanted to cry, but the tears didn’t flow. She began to question her humanity and the ability of feeling emotions the way normal people do.

She wasn’t evil. Nobody’s bad or good singularly. She just subscribed to a particular way of thinking. She won and lost at the same time. She won the fight against a power of belief, but reviled the side of her life that nobody was supposed to know.

Ellie reached for her phone and that’s when she realised it. It’s been 3 days, since she dissociated herself from the whole world. She tried to make things right, but instead she fucked up. She pushed away the only person she truly cared about. She literally gave no fuck about Ronnie for 2 weeks or so and she didn’t even notice that. It was until then that she realised how much she missed the girl’s smile, her touch or voice.

How could she be that oblivious? She couldn’t cry, but she still could scream. And she did. It was her expression of despair. It was her sorrow and fear. She already knew that Ronnie must have seen the tapes. She felt helpless and weak like never before. The thought of losing the only light in her life made her sick. She didn’t know what to expect, but she was ready to do everything to repair her mistake.

“Through the crowd I was crying out and In your place there were a thousand other faces I was disappearing in plain sight Heaven help me I need to make it right”

Ronnie, indeed, saw the tapes. Apparently, everyone did. She couldn't believe it was Ellie, but there were no doubts.

"My name is doctor Ellie Staple. And I'm a psychiatrist". "We're not meant to have this much power..."

The girl couldn't stop hearing her beloved Ellie's words.

"You think you have superpowers? That you are something.more.than.human? -- I'll tell you a secret. - You. Are. Mistaken"

Ronnie's head was full of questions. What did it all mean? Who were they? Who was Ellie?

She felt as if she didn't know anything any more. As if she didn't know Ellie at all.

She knew the woman was a psychiatrist and that she was "helping" people with delusions of grandeur. But she believed – she was sure actually – it was only in their heads, that they cannot actually show any real powers. Yet it was true. They could perform their superhuman abilities. They did perform. And she saw it all.

It was unexpected. Unbelievable. Spectacular and scary at the same time. But the girl couldn't deny what she saw.

“And I'd do anything to, to make you stay No light, no light (No light) Tell me what you want me to say “

Ellie didn't come back home straightaway. She needed to calm down. However she couldn't. She was assuming the worst – Ronnie leaving her. Nonetheless, scared as she was, she had to go back and at least try to explain it.

She opened the door with her trembling hands. She could feel a terrible pain in her head, which was probably caused by her holding back the tears. She couldn’t cry earlier, but on her way back the tears sprang into her eyes unexpectedly. Ellie wasn't used to crying. She did it only on a few occasions and never in front of people – simply not wanting to come as a burden. It would be a sign that she's not in control any more and she had to be all the time, cause who could take care of things if not she?

The psychiatrist found Ronnie in the living room. The girl was standing at the window with her back to Ellie and a cigarette in her hand.

The woman wanted to call her name, but suddenly she wasn't able to make any sound. Luckily, or not, for her she didn't have to. Ronnie turned back and faced her. As their eyes met Ellie knew it's going to be worse than she had expected. For the first time she wasn't able to look in Ronnie's eyes and she lowered her gaze. Ellie's lower lip was trembling as she opened her mouth to speak. But much to her dismay no sound came out.

"Sit down and I'll make you some herbal tea, so you can calm down" Ronnie said stubbing out the cigarette that she didn't even smoke completely

It's not like it sounded rude or something, but Ellie knew better. Her brain was already creating more than one hundred scenarios what may happen next. And none of them had a happy ending…

It was obvious the girl was upset. The worst part was probably that she didn't look at Ellie the same.

The woman had known it's going to be hard, and nothing – no studies, work or experience that she had as a psychiatrist – could prepare her for that.

“But would you leave me If I told you what I've done And would you leave me If I told you what I've become

'Cause it's so easy To say it to a crowd But it's so hard, my love To say it to you out loud”

Ellie took a cigarette packet that was on the table and lit one up. She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts, as she dragged the smoke slowly.

"Here you are" Ronnie placed a mug in front of her before sitting down on the couch

Ellie didn't dare to look at her.

"Are you going to say anything?" Ronnie asked

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth maybe?"

"You don't have to ask me about it. What you know is true. I've never lied to you"

"Well, you've never mentioned killing them"

"Ronnie..." Ellie moved and wanted to take the girl's hand, but she shifted to avoid the touch

"Are you afraid...?" the psychiatrist asked; her voice shaking "O-of me?" tears springing into her eyes once again

"I..." she hesitated "I don't know. I don't know anything any more. Three people. Three men are dead"

"I did not kill them. It wasn't me..."

"But you were there too! You let them kill those defenceless men..."

"There was nothing I could do. That's the procedure..." she said wiping the tear that escaped her eye "You have no idea how it feels... And it's even worse now, when you're against me"

"You're right. I don't know how it feels” Ronnie stood up “Because you did not tell me!” she yelled “How do you expect me to act now? You think that I can just pretend that nothing happened?"

"No! Of course, not. It's just... It's not what you think"

"What is it then? Explain it to me. I want to understand. I really do, but I cannot unsee what i saw"

"I don't know what to start with..."

"Maybe start from the very beginning?"

The psychiatrist did realize it was going to be the hardest talk that she ever had. Before she started she stood up and took a bottle of whisky. She poured herself a glass and sat down again. She took a few sips and began to speak. Ellie told the girl about the elaborate secret society called the Clover Organization – of which not only her, but also Ronnie's parents were members. She spoke about the threat that superhuman can be to normal people and how she tried to psychosomatically convince them that their powers are only a delusion, so that the killing wouldn't be carried out. However, as she was about to finish it was too much for her. She was talking about how her therapy hadn't work completely and how her patients slipped through the cracks – that's when salty tears filled her eyes.

Ronnie looked at the other woman. There were no insecurities and doubts any more. At that moment all that had happened didn’t matter. Ellie was still only a human and definitely couldn’t be blamed for everything.

It was Ronnie’s time to act. She didn't hesitate and pulled the psychiatrist closer. As the girl did so, Ellie broke down. She was holding her tears back too long and when she finally let go they're streaming down her cheeks, dampening Ronnie's T-shirt.

Ellie was sobbing so hard that at some point it was difficult for her to breath. Her body was shaking and it wasn't easy to hold her, but Ronnie didn't let go.

How could she ever let go of the only person she loved? How could she leave Ellie when she needed her the most?

"Shhhh. It's okay. Everything will be alright. We'll go through it"

Ronnie wasn't sure what may happen. She still had a lot of questions and was uncertain about many things. It felt as if two completely different realities had just collided, but, somehow, she just knew that nothing could ever tear the two of them apart.

#dr ellie staple #ellie staple x ronnie #You are enough #sarah paulson #sarah paulson imagine #glass #the end

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aisuho · 6 years ago

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7′sCarlet #1 (Hino, Isora)

I have no idea how to say this game’s name. Is it 7′s carlet? 7′s Scarlet? 7′ scarlet? No idea.

I have been playing it for the last few days, and been following NerdyBirdyx’s guide. I was looking forward to it since I’ve finished Steam Prison (replayed Adage’s route, as I said I would) and have been lacking for something else to do. I went into it without knowing much or what to expect. The only thing I knew is that it had a mystery, which fitted me nicely since I had liked Steam Prison and Amnesia a lot. So, you can expect such heavy/tense vibe, although it didn’t look like as violent as Steam Prison.

As it says in the guide, the characters’ order was...

Hino -> Isora -> Toa -> Sosuke -> Yuzuki -> True Ending -> Secret Character

Next I will talk about my journey through the first two routes (Hino and Isora), as well as my thoughts on them and its characters. Oh, I apologize for any stupid mistake in grammar, specially when writing something’s name (places’ and people’s), I’m not sure why but I’m having trouble getting it right.

Spoilers to follow. You’ve been warned.

Hino Kagutsuchi

Hino is the classic childhood friend who has feelings towards the heroine. He is an overall nice guy who likes sports but has to deal with his own feelings of inadequacy.

I must say I liked him from the start, and at first glance, he was the one who talked more to me... I also have a weak spot for childhood friends’ romance, so, yeah...

Hino’s route is full of sweet moments, but still without losing focus of the plot of trying to find your brother. It had a nice balance between these two moments: the tension of Okunezato, and the sweet and fluffy romance, which can be a hard thing to achieve. I liked to see his hesitation of crossing the line of friendship and confessing his feelings towards the heroine. I also liked seeing his weakness as he often fears he is not good enough.

One thing, though, that bothered me is how often he talks about replacing MC’s brother, which made it sound... just weird.

We never have the chance to see MC’s brother or how was their dynamic. The only hints you’re given of the former was Hino’s speech, and by that, I don’t have a good impression of the brother or how he related with MC or even Hino. The flashback of the haunted house too, gave me a bad feeling.

Other than those things, I liked the romance’s development. It was fast-paced, but not in a way that felt rushed. The CGs were pretty, and their interaction was sweet and concise.

I can’t say I’m annoyed at MC, too. She wasn’t too dense. It was understandable how she was a little confused about her own feelings at times, or even hesitant, given that her brother’s disappearance was taking most of her thoughts. But, one thing that bothered ma about the Happy Ending was how they kind of force the “love at first sight” thing, specially when it comes to MC’s feelings. It would’ve been believable when talking about Hino, but the MC... it just didn’t feel right.

However, I must say... all the case of Okunezato and it’s mystery left me confused a lot of times. At that point I had some theories, but I was more lost than anything; at first, I didn’t understand if the mystery was a supernatural thing or it had some sort of logical/scientific explanation. The game strongly suggests the former.

Karasuma was kind of a mysterious character too, I wasn’t sure what he was up to, but still didn’t believe he was a bad guy. The manager was confusing, it felt like the game wanted me to distrust or suspect him, but I couldn’t do it when it didn’t give me any proof or reason whatsoever. It was heavily hinted that he was involved with MC’s brother’s disappearance, somehow. To be honest, I thought Yasu was the most suspicious one... all that “stupid” attitude seemed forceful -- a facade -- and it looked like he had some kind of connection to Yuzuki’s family. More than them just being childhood friends.

It was unclear if the cat man was one of the characters we knew, or someone else entirely. No questions about the Okunezato’s mysteries or even MC’s brother’s disappearance were answered, which was disappointing.

Nonetheless, the romance was nice and the route was still fun. I was at the edge of my seat many times, just wondering when any of them was going to be attacked. Every time they went to investigate the disappearance, I got tense.

Isora Amari

I was writing this one as I played his route (different to how I did Hino’s), so my comments and views come as I move forward, this is not a view of someone who had already finished the route. The reason for that is that as I finished writing Hino’s part, I felt that I left out lots of thing that might’ve been important, so, writing as I played made it more my thoughts more clear and dynamic. However, it made the text way longer, so I apologize from the start.

From the beginning I must say something didn’t ring right to me about Inora, I’m not saying he was exactly a suspicious character, but just his personality just bothers me a little bit. He is not a bad character per se, but the way he talks, all that joyful and carefree is not my cup of tea.

Inora constantly hints about having met the heroine before, which makes you wonder about MC’s memories (or lack, thereof).

I was a little hesitant as I started his route, because... well, you came to Okunezato with Hino, you were going to investigate with Hino, so I was curious and somewhat afraid of how they would handle him in Inora’s route. The first few scenes/days he just vanishes, kind of... he doesn’t even speak with MC in the festival (nor meet her), which would be understandable given how she didn’t show up after his invite. Throughout the next day, as you go to town with Inora, he also is left to the side until the night, when you meet him and everyone in the Cafe.

During the Cafe meeting (to which Sosuke doesn’t show up), Yuki suggests disbanding the Club due to the countless dead bodies showing up... which sounded weird, because so far there have been only two deaths. I know, it is concerning, specially given the city’s size and all, but as the first one was approached as an accident, and not murder, it felt overly exaggerating. Not to mention, it was not like the Club was going around town and its forbidden places to investigate anything whatsoever. Less than that, the Club had done nothing at all except a little party and barbecue, so...? It felt like pointless drama.

Damn, that Inora’s snap the next day when the heroine and Hino go to the cafe was just... ridiculous. It made me like the character even less, specially when he came with the jealous type and wanted to force the MC to eat the strawberry tarts. Big red flags here.

Well, the cat that Hino gave the tart to turns up dead, so...

At that point I started suspecting everyone. We never learned why Yua was down the day of the festival, and during Hino’s route there was a day when you came to the cafe with him and everyone was acting weird... so I guess everyone had their own secrets going backstage.

Things then start to escalate quickly... Yuki is kidnapped, you’re attacked... Isora supposedly saves you and takes you to an underground warehouse, where he keeps you (Touma vibes, anyone?) for who knows how many days. He snaps when the heroine suggests leaving to wash her clothes. Their relationship becomes very abusive and concerning.

In the end, the man in the mask appears and try to kill the MC, but is saved by Isora. It turns out that Isora and the heroine had known each other for a long time, as she had spent a summer in Okunezato as a child. Also, the masked man says he is the one who poisoned the tarts and attacked the MC, so there was that.

Honestly, it was relieving to hear that Isora wasn’t at fault for those things, but he still confined the heroine in the warehouse, which is just as bad. He isn’t a good character, in my opinion, as he tends to snap a lot and his relationship with heroine isn’t a healthy one.

Another thing was that Yuki came back safe and sound, supposedly the Murakumo family had abducted him to scold him... like, what? Who does that

I didn’t enjoy his route. What made me mad was that his actions were overlooked in the end, just because he saved the heroine’s life. The Murakumo’s decision to abduct Yuki was also ignored, which just doesn’t ring right. Inora did recognize his fault in the end, BUT he never said anything about wanting to change, nor trying to. Worse than that, he says he might do it again! What!?

It was a sacrilege to go through his route, specially trying to get the happy ending. You have to be complacent to all he does, not talking back or else. My mind was screaming for me to run everytime, but I was forced to play along, which made it tiring. He is a big no-no for me.

Leaving all that to the side, the only thing you learned from this route was the fact that the MC has lived in Okunezato, which means that her brother also did (probably?), so... they probably have more unexplored or uncovered ties around the town. Not to mention, it gave a place for her brother to stay in while he came back, a year ago.

Oh, another thing is that the masked man was unmasked when he attacked the MC, and she says he was a guy, although she couldn’t see his face. I don’t doubt that he might turn out to be her brother.

One last thing, as I was going for the low affection ending and refused to ride the boat, Isora talks about his father’s passing. He said one day (after passing away), his father reappeared, called his name and a black figure appeared behind him. He later says it must’ve been a dream, but it left me wondering... maybe his father was resuscitated by the flower, and the black figure was the cat-masked man. So, maybe the reason that the cat-masked man is after the MC is because she is dead, and was brought back to life with the flower.

Next time I’ll follow on my journey through the game.

#7'sCarlet #spoilers #spoiler #otome game #visual novel #isora amari #hino kagutsuchi

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ficsforfangirls · 7 years ago

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An Untitled Tomco

@boopy-boop, who requested a Tomco where Star accidentally gives Marco hypothermia and calls upon Tom to keep him warm while she finds a cure.

Disclaimer: I did not know this fandom. I had to look up and rely on my friend @ouranose for information so that I could construct this ficlet. I’m not sure if these people are in character, I avoided physical descriptions except where necessary, and just sort of relied on the general awkward feeling of being a teenager with feelings. If it’s not good - maybe just pretend I didn’t write it. Boopy, I really hope I didn’t disappoint.

So, Read & Enjoy this shot-in-the-dark Untitled Tomco Ficlet.

Sunny.

Unbelievable.

Miraculous.

Magical.

Exciting.

Romantic.

Summer is Marco’s favorite season. There’s no school, there’s no schedule, there’s no cold. While everyone else is sitting by the poolside drinking their sweating glasses of icy soda and chilled lemonade, Marco keeps his hands tightly trapped around a warm plastic bottle of sweet tea.

See, people constantly are trying to have the best of both worlds. Nobody moves to California to be cold, so why bother trying to cool down? Marco loves swimming and all that, but he’s the sort to take breaks to play volleyball on the beach or snack on the blanket in the sunshine. He has always been happy being warm. Besides, he doesn’t like the feeling of swallowing something freezing cold as it moves all the way through his digestive system.

Marco shivers at the thought. And also the shout of Star standing right behind…

“I need to make a new batch of lemonade. Can you help me get the cooler inside?” The music isn’t playing that loud and the people that are hanging around the sprinkler aren’t exactly making a racket. Still, Marco smiles at her and nods his head easily. Star is a good person and his closest friend. Also, she lives with him so there’s that whole obligation as well. If he doesn’t help, well, it’ll come up later. It really doesn’t bother him, though.

Once inside, Star and Marco set their bottles down on the table and get to work with the lemonade mix. Star handles the water – using her wand to permanently chill the water. The whole process is short and in no time, they’re walking the cooler back outside with a new round of red cups. Without much thought, Star pours herself a glass and takes a sip. “Delicious!”

“What about your tea?” Marco asks passively. Star doesn’t hear him, though, because Tom rounds the corner of the house and calls out her name. She goes running, naturally, because they’re dating mostly. Honestly, Marco knows they are dating but they’ve not exactly made it public information. She walks over, lazy hugs him, and then starts gesturing to Marco’s collection of warm bottles of tea.

Though he hadn’t noticed before, being inside the house is sort of stuffy and sticky, so Marco grabs the bottle closest to him from the table and races back to join his friends outside. He doesn’t drink from his bottle for some time. This person wants to talk about summer plans, this person wants to make plans for a trip to the beach, and this person wants to go to the movies this weekend. So Marco chats for ages before breaking away from the group to get a breather. One quick gulp of the tea reveals a cold that is so unfamiliar that Marco doesn’t even realize it soon enough to spit it out.

In a split second, he’s shivering where he stands. Star shows up asking if he’ll come help her again with the lemonade. “I-I-I d-don’t kn-know if I-I c-c-can m-move.”

“How do you mean, Marco?” Star tilts her head to side with a bit of curiosity tickling her voice. He thinks it is sort of cute in one of those innocent-kid sorts of ways. His mouth wants to twitch into a smile but it can’t. It wiggles in defiance of his body’s will to star in place but nothing more.

Star notices. “Oh my goodness. You literally can’t move, can you?” She pokes her hand out and touches Marco’s cheek. It is cold. She runs her thumb over his lips. They are turning white, nearly blue. Unsure what to do, Star howls over her shoulder for the only person she thinks can help. “Tom!”

Tom swaggers over in the way that a fire demon does, Marco thinks to himself. Their friendship is a strange one. As Star’s boyfriend, there’s this rivalry between them. It is petty and unwarranted. Marco isn’t necessarily vying for Star’s romantic attention in the way that Tom is, though he does like to have her attention and occupy her time. Tom also doesn’t always regard Star in the way that Marco feels that she deserves but that falls in this category of ‘neither here nor there.’ All in all, Tom swaggers and it’s not a good sort of thing or a bad sort of thing – it’s just a thing that he does.

“Yes?” He asks, eyeballing Marco suspiciously.

Frowning, Star explains what is happening to both boys. “I think I’ve given him hypothermia on accident. I’ve been charming the water for the lemonade and the ice so it doesn’t melt as fast. I tested it on my tea but I could see it was too strong. I left it in the kitchen earlier next to his and I’m thinking he might’ve picked it up by mistake.” Tom is nodding but not really paying attention. He’s eyeballing Marco as if he’s some sort of science experience, which isn’t actually accurate.

He’s a magic experiment. Though, is that really any better?

Marco decides not and chitters his reply. “S-so r-rev-vers-se it?”

“Easier said than done,” Star coughs in perfect unison with Tom’s smooth voice. Their innate knowledge of the unreliable state of her magic with the wand escapes Marco at times, being an Earth person and all. Making a noise that is probably a sigh, Star makes a temporary order until she can manufacture a resolution. “Tom, take him inside and keep him warm. Hypothermia will kill him, and quickly, if we don’t warm him up.”

“Sure. I’m not a fan of the sprinkler either way,” Tom speaks flatly. He picks Marco up unexpectedly in the same fashion as a husband might pick up a bride. Strange as it might be, the second that he’s touching Tom – he feels better. Hopelessly and shamelessly, Marco nuzzles his face closer to Tom’s cheek and his lower right eyeball.

Inside, Tom drops Marco on the couch, which he’s not incredibly grateful for, and leaves to get some blankets. Sitting in the room, which is always a pleasant seventy-seven degrees, feels no different than sitting in an icebox. There’s a settling cold that’s there but not there. It doesn’t belong but it’s been manufactured. It’s hard for Marco to still think that it’s coming from within himself but there’s much to get used to with magic all around.

“Hurry up and get back here,” Marco hesitantly commands through barred teeth. He doesn’t like the way he sounds when he stutters and he doesn’t want to sound particularly clingy, either, since it could set off Tom. His temper is unpredictable, even if it has gotten better to some degree. Marco rocks back and forth on the couch. Well, kind of. He can’t move more than an inch or two without creating a breeze.

Tom returns with his comforter and the extra blankets from Star’s room and buries both of them in layers of warmth. Adding to it, at Marco’s request, Tom uses his pyrokinesis to create more heat. Truthfully, it only makes a marginal difference, but he is desperate for it. California isn’t a cold place and Marco isn’t a cold person. He doesn’t like it so he just scoots closer to Tom and snuggles him.

At first, it isn’t clear how Tom actually feels about it, but he soon begins to prattle about how it’s nice to be needed for something good. He goes on and on about impressed he thinks Star will be that he is using his demonic powers for good. This seems really important to him but mostly in a boyfriend brownie points perspective. Eventually, Marco grows a bit tired of it and shakes his head against Tom’s shoulder. “You aren’t finding the cure, you know. She’ll be the hero of her own story.” Star Butterfly deserves her time in the spotlight, even if the spotlight is on a problem that she created and that she has to solve. Sometimes, heroes are self sufficient in all of the ways, even the bad ways, and that’s fine. It makes for a good story.

Marco feels Tom tense underneath his body. “I’m sorry.”

Tom laughs. “Apologize for what? I know I’m not good enough for her in your eyes.”

“N-n-onsense,” Marco mumbles. Never once did it occur to him that Tom isn’t good enough for Star. That is absurd. Tom has his flaws and he has growing to do, but not so much that he wouldn’t tell Star to stop dating him. He isn’t jealous of Tom at all, either, so wherever he got the idea that he’s ‘not good enough’ in some way is absurd. “I th-think you’re f-fine. No-not perfect, no-not even great, but w-well enough. Star c-can make those choices f-for herself. I just think sometimes you need to give her the credit for her own actions.”

This quiets Tom and they just sit there awkwardly in the silence while he deliberates what this reply means. He picks apart each word. Discerning each syllable, change in tone, and miniscule facial movement, Tom comes to the conclusion that something else causing his critical eye. Marco doesn’t feel like he has a critical eye for Tom specifically, but Tom feels that way, so he feels that he needs to find the answer. “Do you like me, then?”

“S-sure,” Marco says. “I l-like having you around.” It’s as simple as that. Marco likes things to be simple. Magic is great but he’s not totally used to having it around. Mundane can be magical in it’s plain sort of way. “Really, I-I do.”

“I like having you around too,” Tom replies steadily, turning his head just enough to peer down at Marco. They share an odd sort of glance. A surge of warmth spreads through the blanket when their eyes meet, which forces Tom to look away nervously. Marco wonders if the heat reflects emotions in any way. The curiosity invites a completely unfamiliar thought upon it’s passage through his mind.

What would it mean if it did reflect his emotions? How would Marco feel if it did and he knew which emotion? Which emotion would he want it to be? A different sort of shiver works through his bones and even though he wants to lean away from Tom, he simply pushes himself closer. Rigidly they share a very small space until people begin leaving and Star shows up with a cup of warm green tea, steam rolling over the rim and all.

“It took a few tries but I’m pretty confident I got it right,” her voice betrays her as it trembles the closer she gets to Marco. Tom has to peel layers of blankets away and help move his hands upward to take the cup away from Star. Then all three of them work to get the drink to his lips without spilling. Just as quickly as the hypothermia had set on him, it melted away with the charmed green tea as it soaked into his whole body. Able to move freely and speak without a stutter, Marco utters his ‘thank you’s to both Tom and Star.

Later, long after Tom has left, Marco knocks on Star’s bedroom door. She calls him in but he stars at the door, leaning on the frame. “I’m really sorry about today,” she offers tiredly. It was a long day of hosting her friends and rushing around to fix the mess she unintentionally created with his nearly dying (a bit dramatic but not inaccurate). Marco waves it off.

“I actually came with a question,” Marco counters, and details how Tom had sent off a quick heat wave during their conversation. It made him curious if his pryokinesis reflected his mood at all. Star paused to consider it very seriously before nodding her head.

“Yeah, I think a bit,” she smiles. “What were you talking about?”

Marco doesn’t want to reveal the train of thought he’d had or suggest that Tom might be anything other than loyal to her. It would be a stretch and far outside his place to suggest something so farfetched anyway. He lies, since he can’t really make heads or tails about what the heat wave meant, if anything. “We were talking about you being your own hero and all.”

“How sweet,” she whimpers the way all human girls do when their boyfriends have flattered them in some way. There’s no need in correcting her. Tom isn’t a terrible guy, even if he is a demon. Marco mutters something like ‘goodnight’ and wanders back to his room. On his mattress is a freshly folded blanket, warmer than the rest on his bed, and a handwritten note.

“In case you are still a bit chilly,” Marco reads the note in a whisper. As he crawls into bed, this is the blanket that he wraps around himself first. Cuddled inside and happy to be warm again. As he begins drifting off, teetering somewhere between being awake and being asleep, he hears Tom’s voice in perfectly clarity. “I like having you around too,” with imaginary surges of warmth reaching all over his body.

#star vs the forces of evil #tomco #tom x marco #tom lucitor #marco diaz #fluff #fic request #i've never watched this #i literally wrote this blind #please i just hope its not terrible #happy christmas #happy monday #happy december the 25th

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daughterof-chaos · 7 years ago

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Chasing Fire

Author’s Note: Hello loveys and welcome to the first imagine for Music Monday #3! This is a Juice Ortiz imagine based on Just Like Fire by P!nk as requested by the lovely @thejulietfarciertlove. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know. This one kind of got away from me, length wise, what can I say, Juicy Boy was speaking to me. This imagine is rated T+ for language. (also, what I wrote about hacking in this, I don’t know if it’s right. I used my very minimal knowledge gained from watching different shows, so if I’m wrong, sorry ahead of time)

This is my work–originally posted to my old blog @callmemrskozik which is no longer in use. Just wanted to put it out there so people don’t fill up my inbox accusing me of plagiarism.

Chasing Fire

-XX-

I know that I’m running out of time I want it all, mmm, mmm And I’m wishing they’d stop tryna turn me off I want it on, mmm, mmm And I’m walking on a wire, trying to go higher Feels like I’m surrounded by clowns and liars Even when I give it all away I want it all, mmm, mmm We came here to run it, run it, run it We came here to run it, run it, run it Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like magic, I’ll be flying free I'mma disappear when they come for me I kick that ceiling, what you gonna say? No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, uh

-XX-

She knew it was stupid of her. She was constantly on the move; so why she had even turned on the laptop in the first place, she couldn’t understand. Something told her to she supposed. The same something that led her to her old virtual stomping grounds, led her to Juan. And after four months of literally zero contact with anyone, it was nice to talk to someone.

She smiles just thinking about him. That was six months ago, and even still she couldn’t begin to tell you what he looks like, but somehow she knows him, inside and out; the same way he knows her. Which makes the situation she’s found herself in that much harder. She got too comfortable, and in that comfort came complacence, and complacence always led to mistakes, and she made one. A big one.

“You don’t have much time Julie, what’s it going to be?” the voice sounds bored and lifting her head she studies the man before her. He’s dressed in a carefully tailored suit, and he lifts a hand to study his perfectly manicured nails. The sight of him makes her sick.

She’s tasted more freedom in the last ten months of zig zagging the country then she did in the entirety of her life and she isn’t ready to give it up.

“I’m not going back with you Evan,” Julie states trying to sound strong, but her voice shakes, and when he smacks her she doesn’t let out a noise. She just straightens her shoulders and smiles. Nothing has changed with him. She should have known.

“What are you going to do Julie? Whore yourself out to some piece of trash biker? Maybe you were hoping they’d pass you around…” Evan’s voice is cold despite the anger that rages in his eyes. Julie’s eyes widen in disbelief. How did he know about Juan? “That’s right Julie, I know all about him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julie offers weakly, as she settles back onto the edge of the bed.

“You never could lie…”

His eyes flick to the clock, and licking his lips he feels the nervousness building inside of him. For the past six months at exactly the same time she’s popped up on his messenger, and they talked, their conversations covering anything and everything. She was the first person he felt he could be the most authentic version of himself with.

He can be just Juan, and for her, that’s enough.

His laptop pings, pulling him from his thoughts and he can’t help the smile that crosses his face when he sees her name flashing on the screen.

‘Juice…’ he stares at the screen in confusion. Julie never calls him Juice. Ever.

‘What’s wrong?’ he types back and while he waits for a response he chews nervously at his thumb.

‘Found me. Time up. Game over.’ He reads and re-reads the words, trying to understand, and before he can ask her what the hell is going she signs off.

“Son of a bitch!” the words rip through him and pushing away from the counter he starts to pace. He has to find her but he doesn’t even know where to begin.

-XX-

And people like to laugh at you ‘cause they are all the same, mmm, mmm See I would rather we just go a different way than play the game mm, mm And no matter the weather, we can do it better You and me together, forever and ever We don’t have to worry 'bout a thing, 'bout a thing We came here to run it, run it, run it We came here to run it, run it, run it Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like magic, I’ll be flying free I'mma disappear when they come for me I kick that ceiling, what you gonna say? No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, fire, fire Run it, run it, run it We came here to run it, run it, run it

-XX-

“You caused a lot of trouble Julie,” Evan’s voice is calm as he leads her by the elbow to the waiting BMW. Everything inside of her builds with dread. She doesn’t want to go back. She can’t. She’ll die if she does; maybe not physically but her spirit would surely succumb to the pressures of the life she was expected to live. “Hopefully this little, stunt, was more than enough to prove that you can’t make it on your own.”

“I’ve been making it on my own for ten months Evan. Ten months,” Julie says trying to pull her arm from his grasp but he just tightens his hold, and she knows the anger he’s capable of. She’s counting on it. “What pisses you off more? That I don’t need you the way you wanted me to believe I did, or that I don’t want you?”

His jaw clenches tight and bracing herself she’s ready for the blow, but nothing comes of it. Instead he pulls open the back door and shoves her inside.

“You’re going to learn your place,” he says getting in the driver’s seat. “This time, you won’t ever forget it.”

“So let me get this straight,” Chibs’ words are slow his voice calm, “the last six months you’ve been talking to someone online, and you’re convinced, because she called you Juice, that something is wrong.”

“Something’s wrong because she told me so,” Juice says through clenched teeth. He’s spent the last couple of hours trying to get him to understand the seriousness of what’s going on, but they can’t seem to get past the whole “online” thing.

“Sounds to me like a bored housewife whose husband found out what wifey’s been doing while he was away,” Chibs says on a laugh, and shaking his head Juice snaps his laptop shut.

“Forget it,” he says, and as he moves to get up Chibs lays a hand on his arm. The older man’s eyes search his face and letting out a breath he shakes his head.

“You’re serious about this girl?” Chibs asks and Juice nods. “Start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t married?” Chibs asks blowing out a steady stream of smoke.

“I’m sure. She’s engaged. Or she was. Until ten months ago,” Juice says rubbing a hand over his head. It feels weird letting someone into his and Julie’s world. “Old money, that’s really all that she said about the guy. She wouldn’t give me his name, said the last thing she wanted was to read that he had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.”

“You think he tracked her down?” Chibs asks and with a sigh Juice shrugs.

“If he did it’s because he paid someone too. That’s what his type does.”

“So, why don’t you work your computer magic and track her down?”

“You think I haven’t tried that already? Julie’s smart, and she’s damn good. She used dummy I.P addresses, never stayed connected to one for too long, made sure to constantly jump them, she was all over the map. I can’t pinpoint her,” he says and he can’t help the tone of pride that rings in his voice.

“So what can we do?” Chibs asks putting out his cigarette.

“Nothing we can do but wait.”

-XX-

So look I came here to run it Just 'cause nobody’s done it Y'all don’t think I can run it But look, I’ve been here, I’ve done it Impossible? Please Watch I do it with ease You just gotta believe Come on, come on with me Oh, what’s a girl to do? (What, what?) Hey, what’s a girl to do? (What, what?) Oh, what’s a girl to do? (What, what?) Oh, what’s a girl to do? Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way

-XX-

She’s exhausted, down to the bone. She couldn’t begin to say how long she’s been walking, but she keeps moving. One foot in front of the other. She had to do it. She had no choice. That’s what she’s been telling herself since she walked away from the smoldering car. She couldn’t leave Evan in the smoking wreckage; no matter how much she hated him, she wouldn’t have his death on her hands, so she pulled him free making sure there was a safe distance between him and what was left of his BMW. Sure she may have caused the accident but for her it was the only way that she felt she was going to be able to get away.

She used Evan’s phone to call 911, and to send one message, and she hoped to hell that he understood.

His phone buzzes across the nightstand, and with a groan he throws his hand out, searching for it, and when he finally finds it he lifts it trying to read the words through sleep blurred eyes. He doesn’t recognize the number so his first instinct is to ignore it.

‘Where there’s smoke…’ his eyes are sliding closed with the words tumbling in his head and then he’s sitting upright, all of his muscles tensing as the meaning behind the words sink in. He jumps from his bed and fumbles as he drags on his jeans, and with only one arm through his shirt he’s racing down the hall to bang on Chibs’ door.

“Chibs, we have to go! I know where Julie is!” he calls frantically through the door and without waiting for a response he’s dashing down the hall, and as he turns the corner her runs face first into Opie who laughs.

“Slow down Juicy boy, where’s the fire?” Opie asks with a grin.

“I don’t know,” Juice answers honestly as he runs, “but I’m going to find it.”

He stands, hands at his waist as he studies the twisted wreck of metal. The fire department had the fire out relatively quickly, but there were more questions than answers, and absolutely no sign of Julie. Every clue that would have been left in the car was gone, destroyed by the lick of hot flames, and according to the tow man, the guy the car belongs to was found lying unconscious on the side of the road, but he hadn’t been thrown from the impact. No, he was pulled free.

“Julie,” her name is a whisper as he fights the smile; where he would be all too happy to let the man suffer, Julie would save the sorry son of a bitch.

“There was no girl found at the scene brother,” Chibs says and with a grin Juice snaps his helmet back into place.

“That’s because she’s on the move again. She wouldn’t stay, even if she’s hurt. If she has the chance to get away she’s going to take it, no matter what,” he says and climbing on his bike he brings it to life with a roar.

He parks his bike in front of another diner, and letting out a sigh, he’s ready to give up. He’s searched for a couple of hours now, scoping out diners and rest stops, watching for any sign of Julie, but there’s nothing.

He tells himself that this is the last place he’s going to look. He can’t chase fire forever.

-XX-

Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like magic, I’ll be flying free I'mma disappear when they come for me I kick that ceiling, what you gonna say? No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, fire Run it, run it, run it Just like fire Run it, run it, run it

-XX-

She swirls the straw in the glass in front of her, fighting to stay awake. She’s dozed on and off, grateful when the waitress gave a knowing smile upon seeing her and led her to the booth in the darkened corner.

“Hey sugar, are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” the waitress asks on her next round and though her stomach rumbles loudly she knows she can’t pay for anything.

“I’m fine,” Julie says with a soft smile, before taking a sip from her water, “more water would be great.”

“Alright,” she says her attention turning to the door as the bell overhead gives a cheerful ring, “well isn’t he just a cutie…”

Julie tilts her head to follow the woman’s gaze and when her eyes land on the man, her heart skips a beat.

“Oh my God…” she whispers, and then she’s sinking down in her seat. She never imagined he’d find her. She hoped sure, dreamed of the moment they’d see each other, face to face, she however didn’t think that when that moment came that her face would be streaked with dirt and blood, clothes torn and tattered. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“You okay sweetheart?” the waitress asks and with a nod Julie starts to slide from the booth.

“Yeah, fine, listen I need the bathroom…” she tries to call as little attention to herself as possible as she moves towards the bathroom.

“Julie?” the voice comes from behind her, freezing her footsteps, and letting out a steady breath she turns. Her heart hammers in her chest as she looks at him. He’s in baggy jeans and a black zip up hoodie that lays open over a black t shirt. To say he’s cute is an understatement that has her internally cursing the fact that she looks like a mess.

“Juan,” his name comes out on a rush of air as he wraps her in a tight hug, and after freezing for a few seconds her hands curl into the back of his shirt.

“I found you,” he whispers against her lips as his hands cup her face.

“I knew you would,” she says sliding into the kiss, and with a smile she’s finally done running.

#Sons of Anarchy #SOA #Samperv #Juice Ortiz #fanfiction #fanfic

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datingadviceonreddit · 7 years ago

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I really have no idea how to proceed with this girl I have a crush on at work. I feel I might have somehow screwed the pooch completely and I'm not even sure where exactly I went wrong, so I need an outside perspective on this. TL;DR at the bottom. Female perspective especially appreciated!Sorry, this is going to be fairly long because I want to clearly describe the situations and interactions we've had:I (31M, single for a long time due to general social isolation) have a crush on a girl at my workplace, a law office. I've graduated law school and most of my work is on the lawyer-ing side of things even though I haven't passed the bar yet, whereas she is in Administration so it's basically a different department within the office so I will probably never cross paths with her in terms of our work responsibilities. I basically only ever see her just passing her in the halls or in the copy room / mail room, or if I actually go into her office to talk or she comes into mine. I also unfortunately don't have my own office, just a desk half-cubicle in a room with two other older ladies, and we're constantly on phones, so no privacy there (gets real old sometimes, I want my own office dammit).I know very little about this girl beyond her name, job, and where she's from; I don't even know exactly how old she is, but I'd guess mid twenties. She is crazy attractive, outgoing, works really hard and is professional, and confident to the point where I'm honestly jealous. I'm fairly sure she's single though not positive as she's stated she recently moved here from a neighboring state for the job and has never mentioned an SO after several conversations. She started working here about 2 months after I did, we've both been here less than a year. We're also the only people in that age range working there, literally every other employee is middle-aged or older with families and children, so I would feel a desire to engage with her even simply because I view her as a "peer" and I think she feels that way too, since it seems only natural.She's actually the person who started talking to me when our paths crossed; sometimes she'd pass me in the halls and I wouldn't even be aware of her there and she'd make a comment about something I was doing, which might not have been anything to her but to me it stood out since we'd never talked before and I'm not used to girls noticing me...We formally introduced ourselves when we met in the kitchen one day, nothing huge but I was super happy to be able to talk with her. Our interactions after that, once again, were all initiated by her (I'm fairly introverted and keep to myself so people doing this always catches my attention). She called me into her office one day to help her with an issue with her phone, which to me, was significant because she could have asked any number of other people for help with that, people with way more experience working there. She also seemed to make excuses to show up to my desk, for example I once sent her a scanned file off our office copier by email by mistake, simply because I pushed her name on the machine as a recipient by accident. She really didn't need to come physically to my desk about that, but she did - like... instantly. To the point where I was startled.A few days later, she again flagged me down into her office as I was passing by the door (internal WOO!) and asked if I had seen the show Westworld. I hadn't, but had been strongly considering starting it. We talked about that for a while, I definitely am very into fantasy/sci-fi and am a huge geek, though she said she really wasn't and it seemed like we didn't have a lot in common on that front in terms of TV/movies we were into, though we both liked Breaking Bad a lot. I did pick up on some signs she got uncomfortable during our conversation though - she seemed intimidated by how much I knew about TV and Movies (I'm kind of a buff, it's a hobby really) and she seemed really self-conscious of how little she knew about what I was talking about; I definitely tried to ease up and make the conversation more about her and just asked her questions about what she liked. I tell her she's convinced me to watch Westworld, and she literally says she wants someone to talk about it with - which to me sounds like a clear invitation... yes? Again, I'm just minding my own business like I'm really good at doing, and she seems to want to talk to me. So I start thinking... could she be interested in me? Well, maybe, maybe she just is outgoing and wants to socialize with a peer. I still can't really figure her personality entirely, but more on that in a bit...Fast forward about a week later, she comes to my desk again and initiates another conversation without prompting from me; she asks me some questions about whether I'm going to law school, I explain I've already graduated but haven't taken the bar; she asks me why not (everyone does) and I hate answering this question so I just kind of hedge it, but it's a nice conversation, we're both smiling and... it's great. She even asks me how long I'll be staying in my current position and I say only probably until September, and with a smile she says I should stay longer (!). I also learn that she used to volunteer at a sister law office in the state before she started working here. Conversation ends, feeling great.Fast forward to next week, I've actually marathoned Westworld and am caught up with the show (it's REALLY good, as everyone says, and right up my alley). I did NOT do this just so I could talk to this girl; but then again, she kind of invited me to talk about it, yes? So for the first time ever, I decide to talk the initiative, and go into her office one day, and tell her I've caught up with Westworld - do you want to meet up for lunch to talk about it? The reason I did this was a couple of reasons - it was finally a beautiful spring day, Friday, and I wanted a change of scenery, there are no windows in my office and I wanted to get away. Also no privacy in the office, no good breakrooms or places to eat there, and finally, I didn't want to waste her time "on the clock" to talk so I suggested we talk during lunch break.Her facial expression seemed to get really tense when I invited her to eat lunch together in our building's cafeteria, and noticing this made me sort of seize up too and the rest came out awkwardly... also she declined, she said she was really busy and didn't even have time to eat lunch that day as she had a deadline the following Monday. OK, sure, fine, perfectly understandable. I asked a second time if she really had so much work she couldn't take a break for lunch, really only out of sympathy (I'm the kind of guy who insists on taking half an hour for lunch come hell or high water, deadlines be damned), though thinking back this probably sounded pushy. So I wished her good luck on the work and left, conversation 8/10 on the awkward scale.Kind of had a bad taste in my mouth the rest of the day; it really wasn't so much her being too busy to talk, that's perfectly fine, it was really the fact that her tone and body language gave me the impression of a rejection and she seemed uncomfortable by my invitation, which to me honestly was no big deal - I really didn't even view the invitation as any kind of "date" I really honestly just wanted to sit in the cafeteria (it has good windows and a view) with the good weather outside, and was tired of eating at my desk every day. So at the end of the day, after some agonizing, I chatted her through our inter-office chat program and apologized for bothering her and just said I wanted to talk to her over lunch so we didn't waste time on the clock. She responded immediately and said it's no problem, "you just caught me at a bad time" and we should definitely talk about the show next week after my deadline! Oddly though, she used my first name in the chat, so that made it sound a tad "formal" if you know what I mean. Nonetheless I felt good that at least we had cleared the air and she outright said, "let's talk next week," which she didn't have to do.So here's where things get really confusing for for me. I decided to give her some space. One reason is, despite what she said in chat, I didn't want to barge into her office again without more sign she was willing or looking forward to talk to me; I thought, maybe she's just trying to smooth things over, but her facial expression had seemed really uneasy. So I actually didn't follow up on that promise of a conversation. The other reason for this was simple: it was my turn to be super busy. I lost so much sleep that week (last week) I developed bad muscle pains from sleeping awkwardly, had a shitty day where I scraped my car door on the side of my garage, had an all-day training on Wednesday... etc. All of that week, I did see her a couple of times, passing her in the halls like usual, and I'm on good terms with everyone in this office, everyone I greet and say "hi" to usually says "hi" back with a smile. Everyone - except the girl I'm crushing on, of course. She meets my eyes, but no longer smiles, and now she seems to be in no hurry to talk to me about anything. In fact, I came in to the copy room yesterday (Friday) to grab something off the printer and she's in there talking to someone else, but as soon as I entered, she abruptly left the room without saying anything. Also this seems like a minor detail, but I had my wrist in a brace that day due to recurring tendonitis (which is now killing me after writing this wall of text), and literally EVERYONE I met that day asked me what had happened to my arm. Everyone, except her.I WANT to just talk to her and ask "so how's it going?" or "how are you?" or "did you get your work done for Monday?" just normal small fucking talk, and I'm getting such a chilly feeling from her it feels like I can't do even that now...T___TSo, it looks like I fucked it up with this person. Reddit, what the fuck did I do wrong, and how can I, if nothing else, get things back to just "normal colleague" again?? I can't figure out if she's acting super awkward and even shy/fearful around me now because 1. the original lunch invite or 2. the fact that I left her alone for a week after she said she still wanted to talk. Is this a case of us both misreading each other somehow? Is she intimidated? I didn't originally figure her for the shy type, because in talking with her, she actually has really strong opinions on stuff. Usually these are strong opinions on things I care nothing about lol, she's kind of nerdy (she has an "I Heart Data" mug and stickers in her office) just maybe not about the things I'm nerdy about.I CAN'T FIGURE THIS PERSON OUT. GAH. I'm literally on great terms and would say I'm well-liked by everyone at my workplace except her now. I must wear girl-repellant or something. I really don't even mind if this goes nowhere romantic or even fails to get to a first date; I really just want to be able to fucking talk to her normally and learn some more about her.TL;DRI have a crush on a girl at my work who I'm pretty sure is single, and who actually initiated a lot of social interactions with me and outright invited me to talk with her about a TV show. I tried to respond to this invitation, got rejected, left her alone for a week due to being busy and also wanting to give her space; and now she's not even making eye contact with me, not smiling, and definitely does NOT seem like she wants to talk to me at all. About anything. I'd at least just like to normalize the relationship if possible so I can just ya know... ask her how she's doing or something. What do I do? What did I do wrong? via /r/dating_advice

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