#i finished the flowers in nearly a week while everything else is made in single days
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Jules' flower emporium! Where everything is made with real love ᡣ𐭩!
#The flowers- they haunt me#my dear hatchet man#mdhm Jules#my art#mdhm game#mdhm fanart#i put WAY too much effort on searching about flowers and that basically what kept me busy for the whole week#i finished the flowers in nearly a week while everything else is made in single days#imma draw Claude next with this#wonder what's the next thing that ill draw that will scarred me for the next few months
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REPUTATION - Chapter 1
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader
Words: 3615
Rating: T
Warnings: slowest of burns, gender swapped characters, TOUCHING HANDS, no us of y/n
Summary: After scandal damages your reputation, you are finished with society. But a mysterious bachelor by the name of Mr. Djarin has a reputation of his own. And you are determined to keep yourself from getting mixed up with him.
A/N: So after THAT LOOK I know we are all working on our Darcy fics. I feel very intimidated to give it a go when so many talented writers are going to be doing it better but I really haven’t been able to think about anything else.
Also please forgive any historical inaccuracies. I hate those even when they’re on purpose so let’s just agree to ignore them.
And thanks @pascalslittlebrat for taking a look at this and listening to all of my feelings.
MASTERLIST
You used to enjoy going to balls. You used to feel excitement when you got dressed in a fine white gown, your hair set elegantly with little silk flowers. Your heart would race when you would arrive and see all of the gentlemen in their finery. And dancing. There was a time when you could stay on your feet all night, drinking in the attention of all the eligible bachelors.
Those days were long gone. Now you felt a rock in the pit of your stomach the entire time. You counted the moments until you could leave. You couldn’t even bother to put on a pleasant expression, spending entire evenings sullen and taciturn. But at least this was the last ball you had to drag yourself to this season.
You had been forced to spend yet another season in town. This time you had the company of your younger cousin Julia, though her older sister Emma was a difficult chaperone. And tonight you were being hosted by Captain Charles Dune and his wife Lady Georgiana Karga. They threw wonderful parties– at least you had enjoyed them when you enjoyed those things. It was a masquerade ball which meant Julia had picked out a dainty little mask for you to wear. You couldn’t be bothered to choose one yourself but Julia had an eye for this sort of thing. And you liked the creamy white bow that she tied into your hair.
Julia was looking forward to tonight. She was very popular despite being related to you, containing all of the traits a man would want in a wife– good looks, excellent conversational skills, and a talent at the piano forte. She had a number of young men constantly calling on her and her dance card was practically full before she had even gotten into the carriage.
“You look so pretty!” she insisted, though she was probably admiring the work she had done to make you presentable.
Emma was looking forward to being finished with you. She had been married for three years and fancied herself an authority on the subject. She spent much of her time lecturing you on the proper way to comport yourself. Tonight she was just trying to get you to quit sulking.
“Would you at least try to be sociable?” Emma requested with a frown.
“I don’t much see the point,” you huffed. “Do you really believe I’ll get a proposal at the last ball of the season?”
“Lady Georgiana has invited an old friend of the captain’s,” Emma encouraged. “Mr. Djarin. She says he’s quite admirable.”
You rolled your eyes. You both knew you were headed for spinsterhood. Emma had lost her mind if she thought that she was going to pawn you off on some aged, paunchy bachelor.
The ball went exactly as you had expected. You watched Julia dance and laugh. You stood by as Emma talked animatedly when she wasn’t giving you sharp looks. Though there were gentlemen without partners, no one asked you to dance aside from Captain Dune and a few of the unlucky young men he could press into service.
Even now at the end of the season, where so many engagements had been made, you could still feel the eyes on you, the whispers behind hands. It was as if they thought the masks covered their looks of derision. You knew what they were saying, why they snickered and turned away.
It was all because of your broken engagement to Mr. Vanth. There was no returning from a situation like that. You had been cast aside and all of the ton could enjoy surmising the reasons. Your reputation was in shambles.
But it wasn’t the fact that he had gone and married some heiress not two months after he’d given you up that made it all so painful. What had really destroyed you was the fact that you’d let yourself love him. He wasn’t the best choice though he was handsome and had enough income to keep you comfortable. But you had given your heart to him and he had crushed it. And you looked like an utter fool for it.
For some reason, tonight it all stung. You’d learned to drown out the comments and ignore the sideways glances. But here you were, closing yet another season, as single as the day you’d come out. You’d begged your poor mother to let you stay at home in the country so that you wouldn’t have to suffer these indignities. It was pathetic that you had even shown up in London. But she had insisted, had assured you that you were still desirable, still attractive and spirited.
You certainly didn’t feel that way now. You snatched up a glass of wine from a nearby valet and drank it down in nearly a single gulp. It did little to soothe your nerves.
You needed air. You took another glass and sped towards the garden. The noise and music floated out here but the fresh air was cool and the garden looked quite empty, the vacant pathways lit by torches.
You’d once been so much fun. You’d laughed and smiled. You’d had no worries about your future. Now, not only were you a laughing stock but you would be lucky if you could rely on your cousin’s generosity for the rest of your days lest you end up in the poor house.
Tears were welling up in your eyes. You tore the mask off of your face to wipe them away. With your vision clouded and in the dim of the garden, you didn’t see the man that was standing in the shadows until you’d run right into his back.
You’d hit him with enough force to knock you back a few paces but he hardly flinched. He was tall and broad shouldered and he turned to look at you with curiosity. He was alone, thank heavens. He wore a black tailcoat and under that a waist coat that looked like silver and shined like silk. You didn’t recognize him but, of course, he was wearing a mask like all of the other guests. His was rendered in the same silver fabric with a slim slit for his eyes. A scalloped piece of fabric fell from the bottom of the mask down to his chin so you couldn’t see anything of his face other than his dark eyes.
Once you’d regained your balance you began to stutter an apology.
“Forgive me, sir,” you stammered. “I must mind my step.”
The stranger didn’t say anything, he just continued to look you up and down, the torch light reflected in his eyes. His hair was a mess of dark curls. His stature was imposing and incredibly still. You were so shaken that you suddenly realized how you looked, your face stained with tears and eyes glassy. You felt your cheeks burn with even more embarrassment.
Just as you opened your mouth to give some explanation, a voice came from behind you.
“Djarin! There you are!” Captain Dune called out, as jovial as ever.
You did your best to wipe the tears from your cheeks while the masked man turned his attention away.
Captain Dune sauntered down the path with his wife on his elbow. He was a dark haired, stocky man who still looked quite dashing in his dress uniform. He had been a hero of the Nile and served with your father before his ship had been lost. His round face was adorned with a black mask.
“Ah! I see you’ve met the young lady I told you about,” Dune said.
Lady Georgiana’s bright eyes looked between the two of you from under her leather mask. She was a beautiful woman with dark skin and a wide smile. She had always been kind to you even after the disastrous affair with Mr. Vanth.
“My dear, allow me to introduce Mr. Djarin,” Lady Georgiana said. “He is a very good friend.”
Mr. Djarin gave a tight bow when she introduced you but barely murmured a, “How do you do?”
“What are you doing hiding out here, Djarin? The dancing is inside!” Dune teased.
Mr. Djarin gave a chuckle but he didn’t sound amused.
“Why don’t you ask this young lady for a dance? I’m sure she would lower herself to stand up with you,” the captain continued with a wink.
“I’d better not. Please, you’ll have to excuse me. I should retire,” Mr. Djarin said, his voice deep and raspy.
Your eyes fell to the ground and you swallowed hard. You hoped in the darkness of the garden, Lady Georgiana didn’t catch your upset. Clearly Captain Dune had told him everything about you. Why else would this man be so impolite?
“Oh come now. It’s early, yet,” the captain protested.
“Forgive me. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he bowed and took his leave.
“My dear,” Lady Georgiana tried, “you’ll have to forgive Mr. Djarin. He has lived alone for so long that he sometimes forgets his manners.”
You gave her a smile, clenching your jaw so that you would not cry.
“I just had a splendid idea!” Lady Georgiana exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You should come stay with us at Nevarro Hall. We leave next week. It would be great fun. I do find that part of the country so diverting.”
“You are too kind but I couldn’t impose,” you said politely. You had a feeling this offer only came because Georgiana felt responsible for her friend’s slight.
“Nonsense! You’re quite right that is a grand idea!” the captain agreed.
It was agreed that Lady Georgiana would write to your mother to inform her of the invitation. You knew she wouldn’t disagree considering how kind the Dunes were and how generous an invitation it was. Once the matter was settled, Captain Dune insisted you return to the party and you reluctantly slunk back inside.
Julia was with a gaggle of some friends when you returned to the ballroom. There was some excitement going on between them.
“Did you see him, Lucy?” one of the girls asked.
“I was introduced,” Lucy squealed. “It is a shame he was not here earlier in the season.”
You realized they were talking about Mr. Djarin and you felt yourself frowning.
“You’re not happy with Mr. Calican?” Julia laughed. Lucy had accepted his proposal just yesterday.
“No, of course!” she scoffed.
“What was he like?” Julia asked.
“I’ve heard he has a fine estate,” Lucy said.
“Oh, he was terribly handsome,” the first girl craned her neck to try and spot Mr. Djarin.
You wanted to laugh. You had also been introduced to Mr. Djarin but there was no way of knowing how handsome he was beneath that mask. You might have even ventured to tell them that but Emma joined the group looking disgruntled.
“I have learned some most unsettling news about Mr. Djarin,” she said. “He is traveling with a child who is in his care.”
“What about that offends you so?” Julia rolled her eyes.
“That is just it, Julia. I am told that this young boy is not merely Mr. Djarin’s ward. He is, in fact, his natural child.” This last part she said in a scandalized whisper.
This raised quite a few eyebrows but you furrowed your own.
“You are told?” You responded. “By whom?”
You knew the rumors that had circulated about yourself and had grown to absolutely despise and distrust gossip.
“I have it on good authority,” Emma said, which meant that some busybody had told her.
You shook your head. You hated that you felt the need to defend Mr. Djarin after he’d been so rude to you. If he had a child out of wedlock, one that he paraded around shamelessly, then what right did he have to rebuff you? You reminded yourself that this was merely hearsay. And no one deserved to be slandered like that.
But when you saw the way the other girls eyed you, you remembered yourself. If you protested too much, it would only speak to your own reputation. So you let them prattle on and as soon as you could slip away, you did, and spent the rest of the evening counting the minutes until you could leave and fall into bed.
After such an excruciating time in town, you were happy to be going anywhere else and, selfishly, you were glad that you didn’t need to spend a long carriage ride hearing Julia go on and on about how much she would miss being in town.
Nevarro Hall was situated on a gorgeous estate in a quiet part of the countryside. Lady Georgiana had given you a well appointed room with a view of the grounds. There was a beautiful garden with a fountain in the middle and, beyond that, a manicured lawn. You could see down to the lake and, past that, the tall trees. You spent a week walking the grounds with Lady Georgiana.
You loved to draw and you could set yourself in some corner of the garden and sketch the flowers for hours on end. It was such a wonderful change from the constant noise and hustle of town– the endless parties and calls, Emma herding you around like a prized cow. When the weather was fair, Lady Georgiana would have tea set outside and she and the captain would ask for a tour through your sketchbook and kindly remark on your talents.
“Perhaps you will create a likeness of the captain, my dear,” Lady Georgiana suggested. “If he will sit still enough for you.”
The captain laughed at that remark as the valet presented him with a letter.
“Very good! It seems Djarin will be joining us tomorrow! His business in town is finished,” he said.
You tried to hide your displeasure. You had no interest in sitting through dinners and excruciating evenings with Mr. Djarin. But you had little choice in the matter. And the captain and Lady Karga had been such generous hosts, you wouldn’t insult them by cutting your visit short.
You decided that you would be as polite as necessary but keep away from him as much as possible. This was wise, you told yourself, because your reputation couldn’t suffer any more difficulties. There were plenty of people that would jump at the chance to make even a passing association with Mr. Djarin into a scandal. But, of course, there was still a part of you that smarted at the way he had dismissed you in your very first encounter. You couldn’t be prevailed upon to be pleasant to a man that was so insulting. And so you would not.
Luckily, the first two days, it was easy to avoid Mr. Djarin entirely. The captain had taken him out riding or shooting or some such activity men enjoyed and they had dined out. Lady Georgiana had become a dear companion to you but she had begun to spend far too much time hinting at how much she liked the new guest. You would merely nod and smile and let your mind wander when she started to tell you how agreeable Mr. Djarin was or how he had been such a kind friend to her father.
On the third day, you had complained of a headache so you could excuse yourself from breakfast. After you had the tea and toast that Lady Georgiana had sent up to your room, you insisted a walk would be good for you and you set out across the grounds with your sketchbook.
You decided the stables were a good place to be left alone. It wasn’t like anyone would be looking for you there and, save the horses, there was nobody there. You found a little wooden chair and sat down to draw the horses and tack.
There was a beautiful black mare with white whiskers around her snout that you were sketching when you heard a noise. It was a funny little squeal. You thought you had imagined it until you heard it again. It had come from the empty horse stall at the very end and when you set down your sketchbook to investigate, you found a little boy sitting in the hay.
“Hello,” you said to him.
He smiled up at you. He looked incredibly sweet with chubby little cheeks. His ears seemed too big for his head and his eyes, too, were big and round. He wore a little brown suit with a delicate ruffle around the neck that was now covered in mud and hay.
“What are you doing in here?” you asked him, though he seemed too small to answer.
He babbled at you and held out something in his hand.
“What’s that?”
The child leaned forward, stretching towards you, and dropped it into your hand. It was a little silver ball that jingled like it had a bell within.
“Thank you,” you chuckled.
You shook it and it made a tinkling sound. He clapped his pudgy hands together, then planted them on the ground, and carefully got to his feet. He continued to yammer on as he tottered towards you, falling on his behind once, but determined to reach you on his own.
“Grogu!” You heard a voice from the path outside that you recognized. “Grogu!”
The boy scampered out of the stable and right up to the boot of Mr. Djarin.
“Where have you been, lad? They’re turning the whole house over looking for you,” he said.
He scooped the little boy up, holding his whole body in the crook of his arm, a wide hand grasping the boy’s calf. Grogu put a dirty hand up to Mr. Djarin’s chin and he laughed softly.
Now that you had the benefit of seeing him without a mask, you realized Mr. Djarin was, indeed, quite handsome. He had full lips and a prominent nose. His skin was a shade of gold that complimented his dark eyes. His starched collar met a square jaw that was dotted with stubble. In the sunlight, you could see that his soft curls and thick sideburns were threaded with grey hairs. The smile that spread over his features was so warm, you wished you could capture it in your sketchbook.
This was the infamous child, then. You saw little resemblance between Mr. Djarin and the lad but he held him so tenderly, it made you wonder if the rumors hadn’t been true.
That’s what you were pondering when the boy turned his attention back to you, pointing with a plump little finger. Mr. Djarin’s whole body stiffened when he saw you, his eyes turning sharp.
“Good morning,” you said with a curtsy.
His jaw clenched and he nodded.
“He was playing,” you tried, tilting your head back towards the stable.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I was drawing the horses,” you explained.
His head tilted just slightly.
“Is that his name? Grogu?” You asked when Mr. Djarin failed to speak.
“Yes,” he said.
You smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Grogu.”
You put out your hand and the lad wrapped his fingers around one of yours.
“Ebba!” he cried.
You laughed. When you glanced at Mr. Djarin he was looking at you with an expression you could only describe as fear. Your smile faltered.
“I take it your business was concluded. In a satisfactory manner, I hope?” you inquired politely.
His brow furrowed momentarily and he opened his mouth and then set Grogu down at his feet.
“Yes. I-” he cleared his throat. “Please, you must forgive me for my behavior at the masquerade. Lady Georgiana said that I offended you. That was not my intention.”
You felt heat in your cheeks once again, embarrassment mixed with anger. You couldn’t believe he had to be told that he had acted like an ass. “Not to worry, sir. My pride has already been damaged so thoroughly, what is but one more slight?”
The look that crossed his face was absolute horror. You would have apologized for speaking so plainly but you frankly didn’t care. What right did he have to judge you? To apologize like you were so pitiful when here he was with his love child. You knew what men like Mr. Djarin were like and you’d learned to keep a wide berth.
“I- I should tell them that I’ve found him,” Mr. Djarin said. “Good day.”
He turned to go back up the path.
“Wait!” you called.
You blushed when you realized how impolite it sounded. Mr. Djarin turned carefully but said nothing. You approached him, painfully aware of the way he stared at you. It was difficult to meet his eye. You swallowed and held out the child’s ball to him. Mr. Djarin put out his hand and you placed it in his palm. As you did, your fingertips brushed his hand and you shivered. His skin felt rough and his palm was so large compared to your own. Your breath caught and, for some reason, you wished he would close his fingers around yours. You quickly withdrew your hand.
The boy reached out for the ball with a coo.
“Much obliged,” Mr Djarin managed. He was still looking at you with intense concentration.
Your chest felt tight.
“I’ll let them know at the house,” you stuttered and after a quick curtsy you were rushing back up the path.
--- Chapter 2
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#regency!au#regency!din#din djarin#din djarin fic#din djarin x reader#mandalorian au#mandalorian fic#the mandalorian
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The Sylvain and Dimitri arranged marriage stuff made me think of a claude version of it. Maybe an AU where Claude never came to fodlan and reader has to marry the prince/king of Almyra to improve countries relationships. Anyway seriously love your stuff thank you so much for the content!!
Oh hoo Anon, this is a wonderful take on the concept. Let's see what I can whip up for us~
((side note I feel like we never learn whether Almyra speaks a different language from Fodlan?? But being multi-lingual is sexy so idgaf))
((And also I used Bengali for Almyran because I have Bengali family and the language is so beautiful even though the english alphabet phonetic spellings are weird af))
Claude x Reader - Arranged Marriage
NSFW 18+ (like only towards the end tho idk)
Overall, you do what you can to stay out of the way. You'd been sent to Almyra as a symbol- a token, more than anything else. Now that you were in King Khalid's possession, very few throughout the castle paid you any particular mind. You were provided for, of course. Anything you cared to ask for was given. But you didn't speak a word of the Almyran language, and those who bothered to use what they knew of Fodlan's to communicate with you seemed to view you as a pet to be kept safe and healthy, and little else.
By week's end, there was to be a lavish banquet in honor of your union with the King- though of course, your input on the proceedings is entirely unwanted. In some ways, Almyra is quite similar to Fodlan. Court life is much the same. As you wander through the royal gardens, wondering at a range of colorful and exotic flowers you'd never heard of, let alone seen, a voice speaks smoothly behind you.
"Did you know you can actually eat the petals of this particular flower? They're very sweet."
You whirl around and nearly bump into King Khalid. You're about to stammer out an apology, but he reaches out and plucks a single white petal and holds it before your lips.
"Go on, I think you'll like it."
Whatever possesses you to eat a flower petal from this man's hand is something you'd rather leave unexamined for the time being- but he is right about the flavor. It's sweet, but not overly so, and quite pleasant.
"Hm! Yeah, it's nice," you say, then glance up at him as another thought occurs to you that you'd considered once or twice before, "You speak the language of Fodlan very well, my Lord."
"I'm flattered," he says with a disarmingly handsome smile, "and please, just Khalid. I don't think I could bear to have my own wife stand on such formality with me."
He says it so naturally, as if you'd been planning this union for years. Though, once again, he's right. This is only perhaps the dozenth time you've exchanged words, but you are wed, and you ought to get used to addressing him as your husband.
"Khalid..." you say tentatively, "Did- did you need something from me? I hope I wasn't too much trouble to find."
"Not when you find such pleasant places to hide," he replies, still wearing that easy smile, "but to be honest, I was actually hoping you'd accompany me for the day. I can finally afford to take a bit of time away from the castle, and I think you and I both would appreciate some space to breathe. What do you say?"
Correct once again. You nod, and take the arm he offers you. As he leads you out from the gardens, he points out a few more plants native to your new homeland. They're incredibly varied, each more strange and vibrant than the last. All the while, he's somehow made you feel as though you're chatting with an old friend. You leave the gardens and wander towards the area you vaguely recall to be designated for horse stables and wyvern stalls.
From there, a few things happen in sequence. Khalid asks if you're afraid of flying. He asks if you trust him to hold on to you. He helps you up onto the saddle that seems impossibly high up on its own right, and then, you're propelled into the air with a force your body has never felt before. You tense and shrink back against his chest, clinging to whatever part of the saddle you can find purchase on for dear life. Up here, it's difficult to pick up, but you feel your husband laugh behind you, then his strong arm wrap around your waist.
"Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," he says against your ear, his voice sure and steady, "I've got you."
And it takes a few miles of flying and a lot of Khalid distracting you by pointing out different buildings and shops along the streets below, but eventually, you do manage to relax- at least a little.
The castle town is positively buzzing with activity. Even from your distance in the sky above, you can see clusters of people moving around each other like fish up stream, and even hear the faint echoes of a merchant advertising goods.
"It doesn't seem at all like the Almyra we're taught about in Fodlan."
"Oh, it is," Khalid assures you with a bemused chuckle, "But it's also much more. I imagine it's the same for your people. There's a lot we can learn from one another, I think."
By the time the sun is high in the sky, you've passed the most densely settled part of town and are gliding over farmland and the occasional pocket of forest and rivers that split and cross through the earth like veins. Though, the warmer climate of Almyra will still take some getting used to, and it seems your husband considers this.
"Let's land for a bit and find some shade,"
You nod, and he directs his wyvern to begin a slow descent.
The King had thought of everything for this little day-trip, it seemed. Having evidently packed everything you'd need in the saddlebags on his steed, you now recline beside him on a plush blanket in a clearing amidst the trees. A small brook bubbles down from stone to stone in small waterfalls beside you, and the air feels positively alive with birdsong and rustling leaves, all foreign to you and all part of your new home. And so is he, you think as you glance over at the handsome figure of your husband beside you.
You'd been sitting in a comfortable quiet, munching on a couple of very dense pastries which Khalid had told you incorporated an extract of the flower you'd sampled earlier. He gives a satisfied sigh as he finishes his first and lies back on the blanket, taking in and savoring a deep breath. As you finish the last bites of your own treat, you reflect on the day thus far. You'd learned much about the locals and their daily lives by observation and Khalid's description in such a short time, and he'd even taught you a hand full of basic words and phrases in Almyran.
"Uhm, Khalid?"
He opens one eye and gives you a sideways glance.
"It was... dhonnobad, right? Thank you?"
His smile his open and warm, his eyes practically shimmering in the reflected sunlight from the nearby brook.
"Well, we'll have to work on your pronunciation, but I'm impressed you remembered," he beckons you down onto the blanket beside him, and you follow, lying on your side as he turns towards you. You're closer than you'd anticipated, even given the limited realestate of the blanket, and you internally scold yourself for being shy about something so silly- like some naive adolescent.
"Let's try a couple more words, since you've been such a diligent student."
"Okay," you say with a smile, "try me, I'll do my best."
"Hmm..." he looks around your private clearing, then gestures towards the brook and says, "Jala"
"Jala," you repeat slowly. He nods,
"Right- that's 'water'. And, uhm..." he points toward a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the brook, "Phula. That's 'flower'."
Again, you repeat as best you can, and though you know your pronunciation must be off, he's encouraging nonetheless. Then, he leans in towards you, and brings his free hand to your cheek, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly.
"Now try sundara."
"... Sundara?" you make an attempt, and you're sure you got something about that 's' sound mixed up, but Khalid just gives you a slanted smile. He doesn't clarify at first, so you ask, "What does that one mean?"
His fingers slowly weave back into your hair, and his voice is low and soothing as he replies,
"That means 'beautiful'."
Your face warms immediately, but you hardly have a moment to feel bashful about it before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. His movements are effortlessly sensual, pulling you towards him and sending your pulse pounding through your veins. You part your lips to him almost instinctively, and the way he uses his tongue is sparing, but oh-so effective. When he finally pulls away, your head is spinning and it's all you can do to meet his gaze.
"So... that's how they kiss in Almyra." you say, barely above a whisper. Khalid smirks and turns you onto your back, sliding an arm around your waist.
"Oh, no- there's no tradition in this, only skill."
Goddess- if they'd warned you of the King's supernatural charms, you wouldn't have believed them. But now his lips are on yours once again, and he's holding your body to his, and you can't think of anything else. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and faster than you can track, your bodies have met in a tangled, impassioned embrace. It was hard to imagine that mere kissing could feel so erotic, but something about his pace, about how his lips and hands move in tandem, about how thorough he is in exploring you, makes you feel like it would be only natural to give yourself over to him completely.
His kiss travels along your jawline up to the shell of your ear, where he nips briefly, then murmurs,
"I was hoping to apologize for how little time we've had to get to know each other before today," you bite at your bottom lip as his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, "if that would be pleasing to you, my dearest wife."
"Ye- yes..." you sigh into the open air as his lips reach your neck. The single word is all either of you need. He never stops pressing lavish kisses to your lips and neck as he pulls your clothing out of his way. By the time he's satisfied, your clothes are draped off your arms and pooling around you on the blanket- and he doesn't seem to care to remove them entirely. He has a goal in mind.
Slowly, painstakingly, he makes his way down your body. You feel him everywhere- hands tracing and memorizing your frame, breath hot across your skin as his lips spoil you with adoring kisses. Soon enough, he's kissed his way to your lower stomach, and he urges your thighs apart beneath him. You suppress the instinctive wave of embarrassment at being exposed to him for the first time- he is your husband and your King, afterall- but then, his head dips down towards your plump lower lips, and your mind goes white.
"Khalid-!" you gasp out as his tongue trails coyly up the crease of your folds. He hums contentedly, and places a disarmingly chaste kiss to the soft skin. Then, his thumbs gently spread you open for him, and your entire body burns while he takes a moment to merely admire you- your pretty little hole already wet, your clit already hard and flushed dark. When his head lowers once more, his green eyes meet yours steadily, as though to promise without words to be good to you.
And in a moment, his mouth begins to gently tease your clit, and your head tilts back on the blanket. Your hips jerk just a bit with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive bundle, and occasionally you can't hold in a gasp or whimper of pleasure. This only encourages him, of course. The more you moan and sigh, the more dedicated he becomes to your body. He presses himself more firmly to you, his lips surrounding your clit and the surrounding tender flesh, and he suckles on you, licks you, kisses you. You don't know when it happened, but your hands are at the back of his head, fists tangled in thick brown hair as he diligently works.
The unbearable tension is winding tight and anxious in your lower body- you know he'll drive you to climax before long, and the mere thought feels like falling in love. And then Khalid moves lower, and his tongue dips inside of your entrance. You gasp and unwittingly tug on his hair- but he certainly doesn't seem to mind. With a lustful groan, he presses more firmly to you, truly buried against your body as his dexterous tongue curls upward, stroking the vulnerable spot behind the nerves of your clit.
"Khalid!" this time it's nearly a scream, and you're grateful that your voice is lost in the surrounding foliage. Your thighs begin to shake, and your hands release him to instead clutch the blanket behind you. And at last, with a whimper in a voice you hardly recognize, your lower body floods with soaked warmth as your orgasm sweeps through you. Panting, twitching, you moan out for your husband over and over, until finally, the wave begins to subside, and Khalid pulls away to position himself above you on all fours.
"That's a nice expression..." he says with a grin, directing you to look at him with a hand at your chin, "I hope I'll get to see it often."
When your eyes finally refocus, you look up at him somewhat apologetically,
"I should... attend to you."
He laughs and kisses your forehead,
"There will be time for that tonight, don't you think? Once we're a bit more... put together," he says with a glance at your bare form, "we should head back to our ride. I'll bring you back to the castle, and we'll get the cooks to prepare something very 'Almyran' for you."
You nod- it probably wouldn't do for the first time with your Lord Husband to be mid-day in the woods. Though he'd certainly failed to make it seem unappealing.
"And then," he goes on, bringing a finger to trace the curve of your bottom lip, "Well, maybe we'll excuse ourselves to our bedchamber a bit early this evening, and we can continue this little... cultural exchange."
#why do these always end up so long urg#claude von reigen#fe3h#claude x reader#fire emblem smut#fire emblem x reader#fire emblem#feh#fire emblem three houses#fire emblem imagines#x reader#claude fire emblem#not sfw writing
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pairing : seokmin x reader
genre : angst(?)
word count : 1.2k
a/n. i wrote this two weeks ago but never had the energy to finish :p
❝you love him.❞
you can never help but smile by how goofy seokmin looks whenever he wins an arcade game. he jumps up and down while approaching towards you before grabbing your waist and giving you a peck on lips, every single time he wins a game. whenever he smiles you swear you want nothing but happiness for him, you don’t want to see that smile fade away ever. the love he has for you is so pure and full, it’s the kind of love everyone dreams of.
after giving you another kiss after a round of skeeball you smile up at him “seokmin, i have to use the bathroom ok?” you say as you hold his hands. “mm” he mutters under his smile, giving you another kiss before you head off. as you walk towards the bathroom you try to gather yourself while have feeling a lump in your throat. when you enter the bathroom, a few tears hit the sink and you let out a huge sigh before glancing at your phone, which held a wallpaper of you and seokmin from your very first date.
flashback to 2 and a half years ago :
your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest as your best friend was trying to reassure you via facetime. you were going on a date with lee seokmin, the guy who sat in front of you in class with a smile that could heal the world. you’ve been crushing on him the second you guys made eye contact, since then he’s turned around an x amount of times just to talk to you getting in trouble for most of it. there was nothing else in the world that made your heart flutter the way he did.
as you were finishing up getting ready for your first date, you got a message from seokmin.
seokmin: excited to see u :)
attachment: 1 image
a huge bouquet of flowers, and in your favourite colour too. your heart sank as a painful smile grew on your face, he’s truly the most thoughtful and sweetest boy to ever exist. “he sent me a photo of a bouquet of flowers.” you told your friend nearly squealing. you bit your lip, trying to calm yourself down and took a deep breath before finalizing your look for tonight’s date. “he’ll be here soon, i’ll tell you everything when we get back!” you told your friend before hanging up.
seokmin: look outside :)
after reading the message you look outside and see seokmin standing outside of his car looking as dashing as ever. blood rushed to your cheeks as you ran outside giving him the biggest hug ever. you lock eyes for a moment and just then, nothing else felt more perfect than being there with him. is this what love felt like?
at the restaurant, you guys talked the entire time. he listened whenever you spoke and always made sure you were heard, he wiped your mouth whenever you got food on your face and he would hold your hand whenever given the chance.
at the end of the night after dinner, you both went on a walk to admire the night and the atmosphere. standing on a bridge staring into the lake he asked a stranger to take photos of the two of you. a couple poses later and he pulled you in by the waist in for a deep kiss, one hand on your lower back and the other on your cheek. at that moment you knew that this man was your soulmate.
*flashback end*
you hold the phone to your heart, not knowing how to stir up the courage to tell seokmin that you still love him, but you’ve fallen in even more love with someone else. you take in a deep breath as you wipe your tears away, the longer you stay with him the more painful it’ll be for the both of you.
as you get ready to go back out you receive a message from him. the boy that holds your heart…
boo seungkwan.
without reading the message you already felt reassured because you know it was seungkwan telling you everything will be okay. were you an asshole for falling love with someone else? for falling in love with his best friend?
would you ruin their friendship?
thoughts of these sorts were forever occupying your mind. even due to the fact that seungkwan told you that seokmin just wants happiness for you, even if that means he’ll get hurt along the way.
you try to remind yourself that everything will be okay and a weight will be lifted off your shoulders once you get it over with.
as you head out you put your phone in your back pocket and seokmin was already outside waiting for you. he smiled and said “are you okay?” as he rubbed your arms, while you were trying to muster up the courage to say anything he took your hand and said “let’s talk in the car.”
as you sat in the passenger seat he pulled something from the back, “ta da~” he said while showing you a bunny plushie, you smiled softly as you took it. “i’m glad i was able to at least give you this bunny plushie, i almost didn’t have enough tickets.” he laughed. “seokmin…” you tried to speak.
“it’s a nice little gift to remind us of our last date.”
he cut you off with that very sentence and your heart dropped to your stomach as you let the tears flow out. he looked ahead of him staring into the sunset, “i don’t want you to say anything. i know it hurts you trying to tell me..” you stared at him but he didn’t stare back, “i know you better than anyone, you know me better than anyone. you don’t need words to tell me anything, i understand your body language and the energy you give off. that alone tells me enough.” he continued as you noticed him holding back tears.
“you love him.”
a tear rolled down his face, “and you love me too.” he said, finally looking back at you with a small smile. “but you love him more and i understand that, i want you to be happy but i want that to be with me.” that’s what you know he wanted to say, he wasn’t kidding when he said that you two know each other better than anyone. “if he’s the one that makes you happy then i don’t want to be in the way of that.” he said as he stared back into the distance. “don’t think lowly of yourself for hurting me, i love you so much that i’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re happy, even if that means sacrificing my happiness.” was the last thing he said before driving to drop you off at home. not another word was said the entire ride.
before you left the car he cupped your face with his hand and gave you a kiss on the cheek one last time, “you’ll always have a spot in my heart, you’ll always be the one that i love.” he said before wiping the tear from your face. a love like that, is only something you experience once in a lifetime.
yet it slipped away in a second.
#seventeen#svt#seventeen imagine#svt imagine#svt angst#seokmin x reader#dk x reader#seventeen imagines#svt imagines
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The Perfect Birthday (Tom Cruise x Reader OneShot)
Hello readers! Today is my birthday and what better way to celebrate than to write a Tom Cruise fic?! (You already know I spent today watching Top Gun with my boo thang Maverick ;)) Thank you for clicking on my story, I love seeing my notes/likes from readers! (Today’s story is shorter and not as well proof read - I wrote this whilst eating cake lol) Enjoy xxx
Background info: Today is your birthday. Will your neighbour Tom remember and make it the best night? (hint: yes he will)
It was ten past five and still none of your colleagues had wished you a Happy Birthday” Naturally, your parents had sent their love early on, as well as your aunts and uncles, but not a single one of your colleagues had seemed to remember. Not that three people was a vast amount of friends, but you would have hoped that the subtle hinting of your special day would have sparked something in their minds.
As you sat in traffic numerous hits from the 80’s alternated with todays tunes on the local radio channel. And then it hit you. Holy crap! I’m living sixteen candles! You realized as you pulled through an intersection. Well, I’m not exactly turning 16 (now 27) but gosh, this is quite a peculiar feeling.
You didn’t feel sad, sad wasn’t the right word, more so forgotten, forgotten by people you didn’t care to recall. Your work colleagues were nice people, but your relationships with them were based solely on work. It really was no surprise they had forgotten, but the birthday wish in the early morning from your long-time far-away friend, Kate, made up for it. It was your birthday, today is supposed to be a party, so why hold off from having one?
With a change of perspective and a switch of radio channels, you were now singing your heart out to Paradise City by Guns N’ Roses. Although the weather was now cold enough to require a jacket, you didn’t let that stop you from rolling your window down and letting your hand hang out below.
...
By the time you arrived home, the sun was nearly set and the surrounding houses were dark. Besides the occasional dog-walker/jogger-combo, the streets were quiet.
You hopped out of your car, still humming to the now finished song, when you heard a door behind you close. “Y/n!” A familiar voice from behind called. “Happy Birthday!”
You turned around, to see your neighbour Tom standing there. In his hand was a bouquet of dark yellow sunflowers, and on his face a grin. Your jaw dropped, and soon your happily surprised look turned into a pleasant smile. “Tom,” you gush, “you remembered!” Handing you the simple but beautiful bouquet, he replied sincerely, “How could I forget?”
You clasped your hands around the bouquet and held them in your arms as if you had been awarded for a role in a play, and with your free hand and drew Tom into a hug. Tom wrapped his arms around you and while in his embrace he whispered, “I have more for you inside too.”
You pulled back slowly and met your boyfriends gaze with a grin, “Tom, you shouldn’t have!”
You took your bag from your car and followed Tom into his townhouse - which you had been practically living out of on certain nights of the week. As you kicked off your shoes in the entrance way, you could see a candle lit dinner waiting for you on the dining room table.
With a heartwarming smile, you handed Tom the flowers as he pulled your seat out for you at the table. On the plate in front of you lay fries and a salad from your favourite restaurant, and across from your plate, lay one identical in Tom’s spot.
As the two of you dined, you couldn’t help but thank Tom and gush about how great of a job he did on pulling everything together. As you took a sip of your champagne, Tom said, “There’s more,” which made you wonder, what else could this man have up his sleeve?
After stacking your dishes in the sink, Tom held up a tea-towel and asked, “May I?” You grinned as you nodded, and your boyfriend held the clean cloth up to your eyes. “Take my arm” he offered, which you wrapped both hand around as he slowly lead you into the living room and sat you down on the couch. Tom took your hand in his and brought it up to the towel, “Hold this, and I’ll be right back.” Beneath the towel covering your face, a grin was plastered across your face. I truly have an amazing boyfriend.
You could hear Tom prancing around the house and eventually set something down on the coffee table in front of you. “You can take it off now,” Tom said.
In front of you, in the centre of the sandstone coffee table, lay a large cardboard box - the size of a hefty pillow. You looked at Tom, and meeting his enchanting eyes with yours, he smiled, “Go ahead.”
You set the towel in your lap and pulled back the flaps of the brown box, only to reveal a layer of soft-toned tissue paper. Like a kid on Christmas morning, you took the paper out and flung it around the room, tossing one Tom’s way which he couldn’t help but chuckle at.
Beneath the paper at the bottom of the box, lay a neatly stacked pile of assorted vinyl records. You panned through them with a grin on your face. Bowie, Billy Joel, Eagles, Queen, ABBA, these were the records you had been looking for in vintage shops all over town for the past three months.
“Tom!” You shout with excitement, “These are just what I wanted!” On your seat on the couch you bounce up and down like an excited puppy, before taking the top record -ABBA’s greatest hits- and put it atop of the record player. As soon as the needle makes contact with the smooth grooves of the record, the sweet sound of Dancing Queen fills the room.
From your spot at the record player, you hop up and dance across the room to where Tom is standing. You extend your hand, and with an accent of sorts you ask, “Mr. Cruise, may I have this dance?” To which Tom fans himself with his hand in a joking matter and agrees.
His hand fits perfectly into yours, and the other rests perfectly on the small of your back. Tom’s eyes a mesmerizing shade green in this calming light as they lock with yours. He is as handsome as always. The centre of your world, your star, shining always for you.
#tom cruise#x reader#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise is hot#Tom Cruise story#tom cruise is older than me and I'd still date him#birthday#today is my birthday#handsome#love#romance#birthday night#abba#record player#like this because its my birthday please and thank you#tom cruise love
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First Date with Chrollo (Human Diary)
Hello everyone! I am back with another “First Date” post featuring the Prince of Darkness. This was an anon post but I can't find the ask anywhere! I have been watching JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures lately and it is a very interesting show. Dio turned into a zombie and he’s so mean to Joseph. Anyway, let’s get into the post. The end is a bit angst-y but I did that to take a slight turn from all Fluff. I hope you enjoy! Part 2 coming sometime this week.m
It is common knowledge that Chrollo loves to read many books. When he was a child, he had time to read and that provided a great source of comfort. Although he seems to be ruthless, every human has the ability to seek compatibility and compassion. Both Hisoka and Chrollo enjoy the romance genre except Hisoka prefers to watch movies while Chrollo loves to read stories. You've known Chrollo since elementary school. You were fortunate enough to be able to move out of Meteor City and attend a better elementary school. As a child, you were an outcast and made few friends but on occasion, Chrollo would see you at a local arcade. Of course, your mother paid for the both of you to have fun but once it was over, it broke your heart because you knew about the conditions he’d return to once he left.
As time went on, you entered college and decided to invite Chrollo on campus so he could be something like a driving force for future success. You’ve been accepted into Yorknew University planning on majoring in Computer Science with a minor in Digital Art. Reaching Chrollo posed a challenge. He never responded to a few messages but on the third try, he answered with an excited response.
“Please forgive me y/n for not responding soon enough. I am more than happy to visit you. I am proud of you and your accomplishments. I do not see myself as a college man but, hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it right? I’ll be in touch.”
-Chrollo
At exactly 7 PM on a calm Fall night, standing outside of the campus’ most prominent book store, you began to sweat and your makeup began to drip. Just as you were about to wipe it off, you heard a voice call your name.
“Y/n? Is that you?” He chuckled as he questioned your appearance.
Turning around, you jumped a little at the sight before you. This wasn’t the same Chrollo you remember, of course. He had grown several feet, his face was much sharper, his arms were much bigger, had a bandana tied on his forehead, and he had a few rings on. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pressed slacks and black dress shoes. It’s weird. It felt like an arrow was shot through your heart.
“Are you ok? You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine! I’m just---You--look…”
“Ah, I see. There’s no need to be flustered. I am the same as when we were kids.”
The Yorknew Sailor Store was designed something exactly like a Barnes and Noble except the walls were painted to match the school’s colors.
The bookstore had a perfectly designed Starbucks, with a wooden finish, black and brown metal tables, beige tile floor, and glass doors.
Chrollo immediately noticed the change in behavior, one he wasn’t used to.
The students were snooty according to him and reminded him of how the city council would act towards him, his family, and those who were like him.
First, you offered to buy him a drink. The good thing about Chrollo is that if you or anyone else offers to buy something, He will not reject it. There is no such thing as having too much pride regarding him.
“Do you drink coffee?”
“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I don’t think I’ve had any of these drinks. A Caramel Macchiato? That sounds good.”
“Order it then! That will give you just the right amount of energy for today’s reading!”
To you, this was just two friends reuniting with each other but something else told you that Chrollo thought it was something more. He only dressed up like this if he was going out with someone special and even then it wasn’t an expensive Polo Short, It was his best t-shirt and jeans.
It boggles your mind how Chrollo acquired his expensive clothing but maybe he obtained a great job and is able to make a living for himself.
“I’d like to order a Caramel Macchiato.”
“What’s the name for this drink?”
“Chrollo,” you responded.
“And for you?”
“I would like a caramel Frappuccino with soy milk and no whip cream.”
“Alright. That’ll be $15.00.”
Chrollo glanced at you wide-eyed.
“It’s ok. I got it.”
You take out your card to pay and as you move out of line you bend over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you can pay for dinner though.”
He laughed and smiled. “Of course, y/n.”
The bookstore was full of comfortable furniture ranging from light blue, dark blue, white in the lounge area. Both of you decided to sit across from each other on the blue chairs that swallowed you both as you sat.
As he read, he’d point out any interesting points in the book. He got tired of yelling across the table, so he decided to share a chair with you. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.
It was almost obvious that you all were involuntarily flirting with each other. The school was full of couples but occasionally seeing the goofy couple was the highlight of everyone’s day.
“This man was so devoted to a woman that does not know that he exists.”
“Sounds pointless,” you say, still trying to read your book.
“Well, she knows he exists but she is ignoring him and making him look like a fool in front of everyone. He says that there is something about her that he has never seen in any woman.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s her eyes, smile, intelligence, the shape of her lips, and her perfume powder aroma. Those are things that drive men wild.”
You smiled and laughed but came to a quick halt when you felt something along the ridge of your neck made you still. The hair on your neck stood up still as the invading force came in contact with your skin. It was Chrollo grazing his nose against your skin, slightly sniffing in your aroma; slowly breathing in and out.
Closing your eyes couldn’t make your sudden arousal fade. At this point, nearly everybody was looking at you both and looked away. This behavior was innocent for college culture, but it was taken as a cute gesture rather than naughty.
You blush. It was quite surprising that your childhood friend viewed you as something of the sort. It was both flattering and scary.
There’s no denying that Chrollo is handsome but if you dated him and the relationship didn't last, it could ruin your friendship.
At this point, Chrollo had his right arm resting lazily behind your back as his head and next aimed in a position that would allow his nose to lay carelessly on your neck.
“You smell delightful. I didn’t know you wore such expensive perfume. Is it….,” He sniffs again, “Flower Rose?”
“Yes! How did you know? Does your mother wear it?”
“She does now. I bought it for her a week ago and now the guys in the city can’t stay off her.”
Wow. The City. Even though it was a hell hole, it was your hell hole. How is everything? How is your mother? How did you manage to have such an expensive taste in clothing and fragrance?
Chrollo enjoys making others flustered. It's amusing to see them stutter when they’re either aroused or nervous.
On the flip side, seeing Chrollo flustered was the highlight of the century! The bad guys are used to being “bad” but expressing softer emotions makes it amazing and a reminder that they can experience them too.
Grabbing Chrollo’s left hand, you gently kiss it a few times and wink at him. He smiled, hiding his dumbfounded expression, and blushed slightly.
“I see you catch on quick.”
“I was raised in Meteor City. Just because I’m here doesn't mean I have forgotten where I come from. But I didn’t know you liked me.”
“You were the only one that trusted me and played with me when no one would.”
It felt like two magnets were pulling you closer. If he kissed you right here right now, you could just melt into a puddle but before anything happened, Chrollo’s phone rang loud and echoed throughout the bookstore.
Glancing at his phone, you saw an unknown number call, and judging from his actions he stood quickly to his feet.
“I’ll only be gone for a second.”
Hmm. That was odd. During this short intermission, you continue to read your book. Ironic enough, you weren’t into romance novels per se, you enjoyed action and comedy books!
Once Chrollo returned, his face was flushed and his soft demeanor had suddenly disappeared. He looked as if he was going to punch a wall.
“What’s wrong, Chrollo?”
He glanced at you with a somber smile, hoping to convince you that he was alright. “I am fine, y/n.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, if you count my mother being seriously injured, then yes.”
“Oh no! We can leave now, it’s fine.”
“No, it's ok. She wouldn’t want me to leave you all by yourself at this time of day.” He pointed to the night sky.
Wow! That was quick!
“What do you mean?”
“My mother predicted that I could end up with you...she also predicted that someone would be hurt or in danger if that prophecy was fulfilled. It’s sort of like give or take. In order to make someone happy, someone has to surrender their happiness and I guess it was her.”
A single tear dropped down his cheek and nothing more. He didn’t care if other men singled out his “weakness” because he’d destroy them all and he didn’t want y/n to know about his abilities until later.
The comfort of your warmth against his head provided more than comfort. He felt safe, welcomed, not judged, and vulnerable. He knew that you wouldn’t make him out to be a bad person but instead welcome him home with open arms. You were his human diary.
#hunter x hunter headcanons#hunter x 1999#hunter x hunter#hunter x meme#hunter x reader#hunter x 2011#chrollo x reader#chrollo x you#chrollo x y/n#hisoka x y/n#hisoka x reader#hisoka fluff#hisoka morrow#hunter x hunter x y/n#chrollo lucifer#hxh fandom#hxh 2011#hxh reader#hxh hisoka#hxh illumi#hunter x hunter imagines#hunter x hunter fan fiction#y/n#hxh fanart
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Anything you write is so amazing so can I please request a marriage au and possibly mafia with Hyunjin. You can pick the plot!!
Hi! I’m not sure if you wanted smut, but I was inspired to write smut. Please enjoy.
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Hyunjin
Genre: Mafia AU; Marriage AU
Warnings: Language and Smut
Word Count: 1.7K
It was cold when you pulled up to your expensive estate, bundled up in a luxurious coat and an evening gown that cost more than the car your driver had brought you home in. But no amount of money could improve your current mood, silently loathing your husband’s insistence, yet again, that you return home early and miss out on all the fun at your best performing club.
“Fuck him,” you decided aloud, slamming the door closed behind you as you marched along the neat sidewalk leading to the front door.
For the past several weeks, you had done your best to run the club downtown where you entertained the wealthy patrons who enjoyed the rare alcohol selections from the bar. You were the reason why the club was so successful, but then everything seemingly changed overnight, and you would always blame the drunk, inconsiderate asshole who started a huge fight that had to be broken up by every security guard you had hired.
By the time Hyunjin arrived on the scene, your husband was incensed, and he enforced a very strict curfew that prevented you from staying in the club past nightfall. “Extra security measures my ass,” you growled. “Who else is gonna run that place while he drives around town making all sorts of deals?”
He hadn’t always been that protective. When Hyunjin found you after taking over your father’s pathetic excuse for an organization, merging the two together, and sealing the deal by asking for permission to marry you - the gorgeous daughter who could certainly handle herself in a fight - he promised that you would be involved in every aspect of his underground mafia dealings.
But then the fight happened, and you were stuck at home bored out of your mind while you resented Hyunjin’s decision to keep you locked up like some kind of animal. The anger and frustration continued to grow each night you found yourself gazing out the window in the living room and wondered what was happening to the rest of the world while huge, well-armed security guards walked the premises of your home and kept you inside. “I’m not doing this anymore,” you decided, and you didn’t even bother to change out of your club skirt before planting yourself at the mini-bar in the kitchen where you would wait for Hyunjin to drag his ass back home. “I won’t stand down!”
It was a worthy declaration, and you were in the process of rehearing everything you wanted to say to Hyunjin, ruminating over the past few weeks of isolation while glancing at the fancy clock ticking away in the background. The hour had entered the early AM when you heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke on the phone to one of his subordinates. “We’ll meet with him this Friday,” Hyunjin said, and you watched him walk into the kitchen, startling when he realized you were still awake. “Yeah, I’ll call you back tomorrow.”
You smirked, waiting until he hung up the phone before speaking. “It’s about time you get here.”
“I had some things to take care of,” Hyunjin replied, and he must’ve been ignorant to your foul mood as he walked over to spread your thighs, making himself comfortable between them. “You’re still all dressed up.”
“We need to talk,” you said, deciding that it was best to get straight to the point.
“Sweetheart, what’s your problem?” Hyunjin asked, and you frowned as he started messing with the knot on his tie.
“My problem is you, Hyunjin,” you snapped, furious that he was being so nonchalant.
“Me?” Hyunjin scoffed. “What the hell did I do wrong?”
“Really?” You rolled your eyes at how dense he was. “Can’t think of anything?”
“Is it because I’m home so late?” he asked. “You know I work late sometimes, baby.”
“Quit calling me that,” you growled. “I’m talking about the new club. You know I’m the best person to run it, but you keep sending me home like I’m a kid or something.”
Hyunjin smiled. “Is that all? You’re precious to me, baby,” Hyunjin whispered, kissing you like you were something delicate to be treasured.
“My father taught me how to use a knife when I was ten,” you hissed against the seam of his mouth, pulling back to glare at Hyunjin. “I’m not a flower.”
Hyunjin scowled, and you realized that you had said something to piss him off, swallowing hard when he grabbed your arm even while trying to keep on a mask of false bravado. “I just wanted to come home and make love to my wife,” he said, and you winced when the hold around your arm grew tighter. “No,” he continued, and all previous semblances of softness were gone. “You want to be fucked, isn’t that right?”
“I want to be treated with respect!” you protested, yelping in pain when he forced you up out of your chair only to spin you around and bend your entire upper half over the counter.
“Is that right?” he growled into your ear. “You want me to let you do whatever the hell you want?”
“I can protect myself,” you said. “I did it before I met you!”
“But you have me now, sweetheart,” Hyunjin cooed, and you shivered when he started sliding your skirt down your thighs.
“I don’t need you to boss me around,” you insisted, even though it was quite obvious that Hyunjin had had enough of your attitude.
“Speak like that to me again,” he snarled, landing a sharp slap to the flesh of your ass.
“What are you gonna do?” you challenged him. “Fuck the fight out of me? Act like the big bad mafia boss who orders everyone around?”
“Maybe I will,” he whispered, and your next words were wiped clean around a moan when two of his fingers immediately penetrated your tight cunt. “Not so mouthy now,” Hyunjin said, and you whimpered at his tone, legs shaking at the fast movements of his fingers against your delicate walls, grazing that sweet spot with every stroke.
“This isn’t fair!” you whined, but Hyunjin only laughed in response, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he brought you back against his chest, curling his fingers just right as he flexed his wrist with talented motions.
“You’ll cum once like this from my fingers,” he said. “And then once from my cock.”
“Is this your way of controlling me?” you asked, wincing when he abruptly removed his fingers and allowed you to tall back down against the counter.
“It’s my way of loving you,” Hyunjin said, and you could hear the raw emotion in his voice. “I just want you to be safe and happy, Y/N.”
“Hyunjin...” you tried, but there was no finishing a coherent sentence when his fingers were back on your clit, drawing harsh little circles with his thumb while three fingers stretched the walls of your still-tender pussy, pushing you closer to the edge while murmuring sweet nothings into the hair at the back of your neck.
“Feel good for me,” he said, and you choked around a stuttered exhale when your first orgasm of the night left you reeling from Hyunjin’s dramatic shift to something soft and decidedly un-mafia-like.
“Baby,” you sighed, allowing your forehead to touch the cool surface of the counter to alleviate the sweat building there, groaning when Hyunjin slid down your panties and started working apart his well-pressed suit pants.
“You can cum again for me, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and despite the ache in your core, you spread your legs even wider for him when he started to push his cock between your gaping walls, replacing the spaces where his fingers had previously brought you to the edge. “So tight,” Hyunjin moaned, and his hands held firmly to your hips as he started pounding immediately, leaving you no time to adjust; although, you were already prepared for him because of the mess he had made from finger fucking you into oblivion.
“Shit your cock is amazing,” you cried, tossing back your head against the fresh waves of pleasure, closing your eyes as you took everything he was giving you.
It almost felt like a peace offering, especially when your husband was more than inclined to take you over any available surface of your lavish home.
“Yeah?” Hyunjin grunted, and you could practically feel his proud smirk as he gave you all his attention, working his cock at different angles and listening for your reactions: staccato moans and dramatic cries of his name. “Tell me when you’re close.”
“Soon,” you promised him, arching your back just a little more because it gave Hyunjin better leverage to hit your g-spot on every thrust.
He took the hint, grinding his hips against your ass and working you over as only someone who had spent years learning your body could. “Do you need me to touch you?” he asked and you nodded fiercely, unable to resist the tears that started to fall when one hand returned to your throbbing clitoris, giving it some much-needed attention as the rest of you started to fall apart.
“I’m coming!” you cried, looking back over at your husband and nearly losing it at the sight of his concentrated expression. Sweat falling down the sides of his hairline, eyes focused on the place where he was pumping his cock inside of you, expression shadowed by the same lust and desire curling at the place where he was working you with his cock and fingers. “Hyunjin!” you shouted, losing every single last reserve of your inhibitions as you came for a second time, panting and desperate for him as he gave two deep thrusts before his cum joined your own.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, pulling his cock from your ruined cunt as you held on to the counter with whatever strength you had left since your legs almost felt numb from his prior ministrations. “I got you,” he said, reaching down to collect you into his arms, holding you close as he brought you both upstairs to your shared bedroom.
You sighed at the feeling of the satin sheets against your lower back, reminders of the extravagances that his mafia dealings could afford you both, reaching over to wrap an arm around Hyunjin’s waist to keep him close. “I know that you love me, baby,” you said, drawing his attention. “But I still want to work the club at night.”
“Y/N,” Hyunjin growled, and you savored the wild, animalistic look in his gaze that promised you both a very long night.
#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin scenarios#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin drabbles#hyunjin oneshot#hyunjin smut#stray kids smut#mostlycompetent
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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 21
Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic
“Hi,” she greets him as he walks in the door, “I have something for you.”
She’s perched in the armchair, a smile that’s coy and playful curling the corners of her mouth. He gives her a curious smirk as he slips off his shoes and overcoat.
“Okay, like a gift?” he asks, crossing the room to plant a kiss on her lips, stealing another to enjoy the warm feeling of her mouth against his, which is chilled from the wintery air outside.
She shakes her head as he goes into the bedroom, changing into sweats and a T-shirt.
“You’re going to have to find it,” she calls from the other room, and he smiles to himself.
This is his favorite version of her; playful and flirtatious, quick to smile and laugh. He loves all aspects of her personality, but the rarity of this one makes it feel special. She almost never acts this way in front of anyone else, even her family; it feels like it’s just for him. He moves to stand at the threshold of the living room, leaning against the wall.
“Are you going to give me a hint?” he asks, and she considers the question with a thinking man pose.
“Well, I will tell you that right now you are very, very, cold,” she finally says.
His eyebrows lift in understanding and he walks back into the bedroom.
“Colder!” she calls, and he moves to the kitchen.
“Still cold.”
He walks to her desk.
“Mmm, slightly warmer.”
Next he steps close to the fireplace.
“A little warmer.”
He turns to look at her and narrows his eyes. He takes a step towards her.
“Oh, warmer.”
He stands directly in front of her chair.
“Getting hot,” she says with a playful lilt to her voice.
He drops to his knees between her legs.
“Very, very hot.”
He slips his fingers into the waistband of her pants.
“On fire,” She says with a smile.
He moves to pull her pants down and the tips of his fingers meet with something foreign near the top of her thigh. He quirks his head quizzically, fitting his whole hand into her pant leg and pulling out two long strips of cardstock. Airline tickets.
“How do you feel about a California Christmas?” she asks hopefully, and he looks at the tickets to see that the destination is San Diego, December 22nd.
He knew that she and her mother had been talking about flying out to see Bill for the holiday, but he’d assumed that he’d be left at home.
“What about Priscilla?” he asks, both touched that she wants to include him in her family’s celebration and nervous about meeting her older brother, who he understands will hate him by default.
“We can ask the Gunmen to look after her,” she offers. “Unless you don’t want to come with me?”
He can tell by her tone that it’s not meant to be a way for him to opt out, but a test of his willingness to go. She clearly wants him to.
“Of course I want to go with you,” he replies, moving close and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I will admit to being a little worried about meeting your brother, and in his home, on his turf.”
She gives him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry too much about Bill. Missy and Charlie are going, and Mom of course, and they love you. I know Tara will too. So even if he does pull the big brother card and give you a hard time, we have strength in numbers.”
“Is Byers going?” he asks hopefully, and she shakes her head. “Missy only just barely told Mom about him. It’s too soon for them.”
“But not for us?” he asks with the smile he reserves for the times when she alludes to the seriousness of their commitment.
She shakes her head slowly. “Not for us,” she says.
———
“Oh my god, I’m going to lose my mind, Mulder.”
She’s pacing around the apartment, putting things into different piles and open suitcases, her level of stress palpable in the air.
“Honey, stop for a second,” he says, grabbing her by the shoulders and dipping his head to meet her eye. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs, waiting as she does so. “We don’t need to leave for the airport for another twelve hours,” he says, keeping his own tone calm and level to counter hers, “we have plenty of time to pack.”
“It’s not just the packing, Mulder, this entire week was a nightmare. Everything I was hoping to accomplish before this trip was waylaid in one way or another; I missed my doctor’s appointment because of an emergency autopsy and forgot to reschedule it before they closed on Friday, Trudy was out sick half the week so I had to absorb her workload, the dry cleaners lost the dress I was going to bring for Christmas Eve mass, Priscilla is out of food AND litter, and I can’t find my earplugs for the plane,” she rattles off.
He pulls her into a hug, feeling her relax a bit with the contact.
“I will go pick up cat food, litter and earplugs,” he says, pulling away to look at her again, “and I’ll remind you to call the doctor tomorrow and reschedule. Wear that blue dress with the little flowers on it to mass, it looks beautiful on you. And try to breathe,” he finishes, giving her a sympathetic smile.
She forces a small smile onto her mouth and takes another deep breath. “Thank you,” she says quietly.
He pours her a big glass of wine before bundling himself up against the cold and venturing out into the December night.
———
She glances at Mulder intermittently, watching for signs of overwhelm. She knows that coming from a small, dysfunctional family means that he’s not accustomed to the type of gathering they are currently entrenched in; the entire Scully clan plus Tara’s parents and brother, and several members of their church. He seems to be faring okay, sipping a beer while talking sports with Charlie and a few others.
As nervous as he’d been about meeting Bill, he was well prepared. Scully directed him to speak highly of the Chargers while eviscerating the Patriots, and to go easy on the PDA. While they aren’t exactly best friends, Bill doesn’t seem to actively dislike him, and they are calling that a win.
She’d fully expected them to be set up in separate rooms given Bill’s traditional family values, but the number of people who needed to be housed made that impractical. They ended up relegated to the guest room and a single twin bed, though the enormous stack of pillows and blankets arranged on it suggest that one of them is expected to make a bed on the floor. They don’t do that, of course, instead sleeping nested together like spoons, Mulder continuously making half-hearted attempts at getting frisky while she laughs and slaps his hand away.
They are dressed for midnight mass on Christmas Eve, Scully in her flowered blue dress and Mulder in one of his typical weekday suits. They sit in the pew between Mom and Charlie, hands clasped chastely on the bench between them, suppressing giggles as he leans over to warn her that he is at risk of bursting into flame. He traces patterns on her palm with his index finger and she realizes at some point that they are letters. She concentrates, trying to understand his message, expecting it to be ‘I love you’ or something similarly sweet. When she puts together that he is spelling out ‘sex tonight?’ she looks over at him with wide eyes and then purses her lips together tightly to keep from laughing, doing her best to glare at him.
They file sleepily through the door at nearly 2am, quietly going off into their respective bedrooms and pull-out couches, hoping to get some rest before Christmas festivities in the morning. Scully quickly brushes her teeth and washes her face before darting to the bedroom, wriggling under the covers and pressing her back against Mulder, her cold toes brushing against his shins.
“Hm, you’re cold,” he says softly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
“Thanks for going to mass,” she whispers back, “it meant a lot to my mom to have all of us there.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” he answers, his breath hot on her neck, “it’s nice to feel like a part of a real family.”
She threads her fingers through his where they rest on her belly, squeezing his hand. She tries to go to sleep, but his chest rising and falling against her back and the heat of his groin tucked against her backside are distracting. She wiggles a little bit against him.
“Hmmm,” he responds, thrusting his hips against her gently.
She swore that she was not going to have sex at her brother’s house. She knows that they can go without for the week they are here. But as she feels him grow hard against her ass, the throbbing between her legs suggests otherwise. No doubt it’s exacerbated by the forbidden nature of the situation; the door doesn’t have a lock and the house is quiet and still, though packed with enough ears that the risk of being heard is high. When his lips press against the back of her neck, she knows she’s done for.
She reaches behind herself to slip her hand into his pajama pants, stroking him firmly as he breathes hard into her ear, suppressing the groan that she knows would normally result from her touch. He pushes his pants down to his knees with one hand, then hurriedly brings hers down as well. She emits a small gasp when he slips inside her, simultaneously pushing his hand under her pajama top to squeeze her breast.
“Jesus fuck, you’re wet,” he whispers harshly in her ear, and she wants to make a joke about not taking the lord’s name in vain on his birthday but when he starts pumping in and out deliciously slowly, the thought slips from her mind.
If he moves too quickly the bed squeaks, so he keeps a languid pace as he pinches her nipples and kisses her neck, then slides his hand down to play with her clit in the tight space between her legs, which are still pinned together by the pajama pants around her knees. It feels incredible, and yet the necessary slowness and need to stay quiet make her wonder if she will be able to come. As if intuiting this, Mulder withdraws momentarily, sitting up and freeing her top leg from her pants, then lies back down and hitches her ankle behind his knee; her favorite position. He pulls the blanket back over them for warmth and modesty, though if anyone were to walk in now they’d have no chance of plausible deniability. With more room to move, he resumes his slow strokes and pairs them with hard and fast circles around her clit, murmuring little affirmations into her ear so softly she can barely hear them, much less anyone else. The vibration of his voice, the slip of his cock, the rough brush of his fingers, all come together in crescendo as she stiffens in his arms, turning to muffle her cries against his mouth as she comes. Now able to focus on his own release, he continues to pump slowly, pressing his face into her neck and letting out a low growl as she feels him throbbing inside her.
He slips quietly out of the bed, retrieving one of his dirty T shirts and swiping it between her legs before he pulls her pajama pants back into place. They get comfortable again, the sexual tension that had prevented them from relaxing before now dissipated.
He kisses her cheek softly, murmuring “Merry Christmas, Scully,” into her ear just before she drifts off to sleep.
In the morning, they sit around the lit tree, drinking coffee and eating pastries as they shake off sleep.
“Is your house haunted, Bill?” Charlie asks, and Bill gives him a doubtful look. “I swear I heard some weird noises, like creaking and whispering, I felt like I was in a horror movie,” Charlie defends.
Scully hides her face behind her coffee cup, glancing over to see Missy giving her a pointed look.
“I’m sure it was just the Christmas spirit,” Maggie says jovially. “Who wants to open presents?!”
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zhongluc single dad au part 4 :D
heya! i thought it would be nice to post this on father's day so here's more of my zhongluc brain vomit
also i decided on making this a fic when it's all over and i'm gonna call it "a cup of you" because i'm cheesy like that
《♡》
so diluc and zhongli have been going out together a lot these days and everyone's been talking about it and/or noticing the subtle differences
for zhongli, ningguang mentioned he smiles a lot more to himself during their meetings and likes how his smile suits him
even her wife, beidou (who sometimes brings their son kazuha to visit) says he changed
while he was hiring his niece yanfei, who just recently finished her master's degree in law, as one of the company's lawyers
she comments how happy her uncle looks these days before making her way to her new office
but the ones that notice the change most are childe, xiao, and ganyu
he atmosphere at home is a lot livelier than before too
sometimes zhongli would catch xiao and ganyu whispering amongst themselves and laughing
childe would even join them whenever he was at home
zhongli himself can feel that he's in a better mood. how diluc is able to bring out this side of him is a mystery he's willing to discover
meanwhile diluc sometimes gets distracted and daydreams during work
other times kaeya catches him smiling more when serving his customers, which brings a smile on his face
since lisa was so perceptive, she asked kaeya what was going on and decided to tell her
who told jean
who in turn told eula, who used to be her roommate in college (omg they were roommates)
rosaria (who's also working part time like eula) find out soon after when she snuck into the break room during her shift, to find lisa and eula talking about it
then there would be constant gossip among them whenever diluc was out on a date
then it devolved into placing bets on when they'll get together and bone (kaeya is pretty confident that he will win since he knows his brother best)
everything was going great. perfect really. it all felt so good, and maybe even too good
lately when zhongli and diluc were on a date they would go to guyun stone park afterwards (which was a good distance from the cafe and about a 30 minute drive from zhongli's office)
they often talk about mundane things and then have such deep conversations while walking around or sitting on a bench with a cup of coffee in hand
diluc had never felt love like this before and zhongli didn't think he'd be able to love like this again
every time they're together they would forget about their worries and troublesome responsibilities
after going out together every week for 2 months they both decided to have a family dinner together
diluc will bring kaeya and bennett while zhongli will bring xiao and ganyu (when childe heard about this family dinner, he insisted on being the designated driver so that he could join. but let's face it, he wants to have a nice dinner with his boyfriend kaeya)
the dinner was simple but it was probably due to the fact that zhongli and diluc only talked to each other and basically ignored everyone else
the rest would just glance and wink at each other whenever the two would smile
bennett, xiao, and ganyu are still wondering when they would kiss
while kaeya and childe are wondering when they would bone already
it was cute seeing the two together and it was kind of a pain seeing them as a couple even though they hadn't made anything official...yet
which took diluc another month to summon up his courage
he decided that today, after three months of dating they could make their relationship official
also he was kind of fed up with the ladies (mostly lisa and rosaria) referring to zhongli as "mr hot shot ceo" and "not your boyfriend"
he wanted it to be perfect of course, and so he decided to dress well, get his hair done, and even bought a gift along with zhongli's favourite flowers, glaze lilies
unfortunately zhongli had an important meeting that day but they both agreed to meet at their usual place at guyun stone park
it made diluc nervous but karya reassured him that everything would turn out just fine since they both evidently like each other already
after zhongli finished his meeting he headed towards the park right away, only to discover that diluc wasn't there yet
when he checked the time he realised he was an hour earlier than expected, which was also fine
he didn't want to call diluc and make him rush (in case he had to do something prior to their meeting) so he decided to just stroll around the park
there were still a lot people there going about their day and zhongli wanted to observe them
a few couples, a family packing their things after a picnic, someone walking their dogs and—
"morax? it's been a while."
at the mention of his childhood nickname, zhongli spun around to find retuo
he was different. a lot different when zhongli last saw him in person. the more he stared the more he realised that even though he changed over the years there were still some things about him that never changed. such as the fond look in his eyes whenever he saw zhongli
"morax?" retuo chuckled, and when zhongli finally snapped out of his thoughts he smiled
retuo and zhongli used to be neighbours when they were younger and did everything with one another
they clicked so well together since they had the same interests and hobbies
some people around them even joked that they're glued them together
at the beginning of high school they both started to have feelings with each other and their love only grew deeper as the years passed
retuo and zhongli were together all the way through high school except on their second year of college
they hardly spent time together (even though they shared the same apartment) but classes kept piling up, and so did the workload
college was already too much for them to handle along with their crumbling reltionship
they never made anything official so they often miss each other (due to miscommunication) and would often fight about the little things
zhongli was satisfied with their relationship while retuo wanted more out of it
retuo would often be possessive about him which made time spending with friends really uncomfortable
one day they had a really bad fight and retuo mentioned the dream they had together back when they were children
zhongli shouted "you're still dreaming about that? what are you a child?"
retuo with tears in his eyes replied with "you don't have to be a child to dream"
both of them agreed that day to never see each other again since even looking at one another would inflict pain
retuo also decided that he'll move out of their shared apartment instead since he told zhongli "you bought it, you keep it"
the first few days were quiet. almost too quiet for zhongli to bear
every morning was devoided of the sound retuo cooking them breakfast while humming to their favourite song whenever zhongli would come back from his early morning walks that the other despised so much
he started to notice how everything he finds in the apartment reminded him of retuo
the table set they bought together, the matching mugs, the couch they spent 10 minutes debating over the colour, the table for two, everything
it somehow served as a "wakeup call" because after that zhongli became destructive and did things the thought he wouldn't do for a time
his friends (especially venti) would do their best to try and cheer him up and help him whenever they can, such as visiting him in his apartment and cleaning the mess he would make
he thought that he wouldn't be able to recover, that is until he met his second love, guizhong
she was patient and kind with him and accompanied him at the time he needed it the most, which filled the hole in his heart that was left behind by retuo
a few years after graduation college they decided to settle down and get married
guizhong started to get more sickly years after having ganyu and it took a toll on zhongli because he didn't want to lose someone important to him again
he had another period in his life where he had no idea what to do anymore
guizhong was gone and he hasn't heard from retuo in years but luckily for him, he still had the comfort of his friends and the company of his kids
he met retuo once again during the funeral and from there they made amends and became friends again
he told zhongli that he moved on after seeing pictures from his wedding since he saw how happy he was.
he wanted to stop by as well and pay his respects to the person who made his first and last love whole again
and of course to see how zhongli and his kids were doing
for a few days retuo stayed at their house to keep zhongli company in case he needed someone to cook with or a shoulder to cry on
retuo even took on of being ganyu and xiao's godfather, who never failed to send them gifts from overseas on their birthdays and on christmas
it was years before they met in person again here at the park but they never failed to keep in touch at least once month
they sat down together on a bench nearby and zhongli told him all about diluc and how the kids were doing
retuo was happy to hear his dear friend all happy and excited when talking about a certain someone
he even joked about wanting to attend the wedding this time to which zhongli turned red, but tried to laugh it off
they talked for a while until zhongli realised it was time to meet with diluc when he noticed the sun was nearly set
as much as retuo wanted to meet diluc, he told zhongli that he needed to be elsewhere but promised to make time if he wants to introduce his new love
before they parted they hugged each other and gave zhongli a kiss on the forehead for good luck
what they didn't know was that diluc was some distance away and saw what had happened
at first he tried to make sense of what was happening but then his mind started going off
who is that man? why is he with zhongli? are they close? why do they look perfect together?
that last question struck him and felt everything come crashing down beneath him
as he turned around and walked away his heart felt heavy yet somehow the small bouquet of glaze lilies he bought felt just as heavy as well
things can't get any worse right?
that is until he got a call from kaeya who told him not to panic
he explains to diluc that he was on the way to the hospital since bennett fell down a flight of stairs and possibly broke his arm
he also asked how his son was doing and kaeya mentions that he passed out due to the pain and that he didn't need to worry too much since bennett didn't hit his head and they were 5 minutes away from the hospital
diluc dropped the flowers and started running back to his car, telling his brother that he was on his way
there was a small traffic but fortunately diluc made it in time after the x-ray was done
the doctor told them that bennett would require surgery since his elbow hit the ground first and fractured his arm
after thanking the doctor, diluc didn't notice his knees giving into stress when he nearly sank to the floor
kaeya was able to catch him just in time and made jim sit down on a nearby bench so he can regain his bearings
he also reassured his brother that he didn't have to worry so much since barbara, jean's sister who happens to be a nurse here, is keeping an eye on bennett and making sure he isn't feeling uncomfortable
when kaeya asked about how his confession went to brighten up the mood, diluc only looked at with with tired eyes and shook his head
as much as he wanted to get answers from zhongli about what he saw, his son comes first above all else
meanwhile zhongli decided to go back home after trying to call diluc several times and waiting all by himself
he also stumbles upon a bouquet of his favourite flowers tosses aside
《♡》
happy father's day :D
okay yeah i'm a slut for angst that's all
and just to clear things up retuo is azhdaha since his name in chinese is 若陀 which is ruotuo but pronounced as retuo i believe but correct me if i'm wrong
i used the name retuo more since it felt more natural?? and because i wanted to give that name more justice
part 5 will be the last one!! hope ya'll enjoyed the series as much as i did writing it and i promise to give a happy ending to this series (not sure about the other one tho but we will see)
zhongluc single dad au series:
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5
#also i love rezhong if that wasnt obvious already#mayhaps was inspired by given for rezhong#i realised this was more zhongli centric whoops#man i love angst#genshin impact#diluc#genshin diluc#zhongli#zhongluc#single dad au#hiro writes#hiro.wips
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Delicate. — Part 1.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: Here we are fam, i gotta be honest with y’all, this is heavily inspired in the fact that i watched Miss Americana twice this month, what resulted in me going through my taylor swfit phase again. Pls bare with me, i haven’t written anything like this before.
catch up here!
They said artists become what they are because deep down they are as insecure if not more than normal people. Because they craved constant validation in what they do.
At least it was the case for Y/n.
A girl who has built an entire system around being accepted by the public, someone who their major source of happiness is provided by strangers all around the world. When you are living from the approval of strangers and that is where you drive all your joy and fulfillment, one bad thing can cause everything to go down. Y/n has spent her whole life trying to please the world so they would like her, so what she has achieved over the years would last.
When the world turned their back on her, Y/n had no choice but to disappear, because she thought that was what everyone wanted. Even then, she made her choices around what she thought would make them happy.
Y/n knew she could not hide forever, but for now, it was a necessary evil she had to take. Deciding to take a break from everything was the healthiest decision she has ever made, shutting down her social media, getting out of the city and going back home with her family was exactly what she needed.
"Mom was sad she couldn't pick you up from the airport."
Seventeen-year-old Jensen, whose driving license was still new and fresh, was the one who picked Y/n up when her flight landed. In complete honesty, she did not like using a private plane, but she could not risk someone seeing where she was going. Jensen was good at driving, well, he has not crashed into a tree yet, so they were safe.
"She would've brought Chase and scare Pandora and Lizzie."
Jensen chuckled. "She's obsessed with him. I haven't started college yet and she's already thinking about turning my room into Chase's."
Her parents’ house was a gated property away from others since it was safer that way. Y/n would not stay there the whole time since she had her own apartment a little closer to town. Her luggage, as well as her cats, were picked up separately and taken to her home, she would go there after lunch with her family. Jensen parked next to a black range rover that belonged to their dad, meaning both of their parents were home.
Y/n threw her backpack over her shoulder as she stepped out of the car, eager to finally reunite with her family, especially her mother. She is in desperate need of a tight hug, a mug of hot chocolate and a shoulder to cry on. Y/n did not realize how mentally drained she was until she saw her mother open the front door.
"My baby!" Louise exclaimed, embracing her daughter in a tight hug. "How was the flight?"
"It was fine. I'm starving though."
They walked into the living room and Louise closed the door behind them. Y/n dropped her backpack on one of the couches and sighed in relief. “Where’s dad?” Jensen went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“Get the white wine.” Y/n told him.
“It’s too early to drink that.” Louise took the bottle from Jensen’s hands and put it back in the fridge. “Dad’s outside. We bought some roses that will look beautiful by the pool.”
“You’re buying a lot of plants lately.” Y/n pointed a big vase full of daisies, her mom’s favorites, on the kitchen’s island.
“I like supporting local business.” She shrugged.
“That and she’s obsessed with the owner of the flower shop.” Jensen chuckled, cracking open a water bottle.
“Hey! That’s not true.”
“Mom, you there like… every day. Who needs new flowers every day?”
“Shush.” The elder woman faked offense then gigged. “Handsome young man, he is. I’ll take you tomorrow.” She turned to Y/n.
“Oh, no, mom. I’m going to lock myself in my apartment and try to write.” She said, making Louise scoff. “I’m serious!”
“I know you are. But living like a hermit is not going to do you any good.”
“I agree, sis.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing they were right as always but did not want to admit it. The truth was, she wanted to write some songs, so badly, but could not find the right words. She was hoping to get some peace and quiet to get her ideas and emotions in order again. Before any of them could say anything else, David entered the kitchen while taking off his gardening gloves and smiled widely when he spotted Y/n.
“And who do we have here?”
“Hi, dad.” Y/n smiled at him brightly before wrapping her arms around her dad, who hugged her back just as tight.
“Good to have you home, darling.”
The family of four sat on the kitchen island and started to catch up. Jensen talked about his different college options and how he was considering getting a summer job this year. Louise kept talking about how nice the owner of this flower shop was, making emphasis on how he was also single. Y/n didn’t know what she was trying to do, but she didn’t pay much attention either.
Overall it was nice for Y/n to get out of her head for a little bit, and her family was always a great help for that. She knew she still had a lot to deal with, and she would probably get a call from her publicist and a lot of other people soon, but for now, she just wanted to think about anything else that wasn't the whole world hating on her.
"How are you doing, Y/n? Be honest." Her mom asked after they stayed alone in the kitchen.
"Been better." She sighed. "I don't want to think about it, mom."
"You have to talk to someone, sweetie. I know your team cares for you and is trying to handle the situation, but you can still talk to me."
"I know, thank you. I'm just trying to figure it what I'm going to do."
Louise sighed. "You sure you don't want to stay here? You have your room and everything."
"Thanks for the offer, mom. But I sort of want to be on my own." She said. "But I'll come for lunch every day, I promise."
Although Louise wasn't convinced by her daughter's words, she chose to not push it. She knew Y/n had her own ways to express her feelings, and she'd talk whenever she felt like it. So she let her go, making her promise she'd come to visit soon.
"Do you need a ride? I'm going to town anyway." Jensen offered, taking the keys of his car from the little plate they kept on the table beside the front door.
"Yes, please."
The drive to her apartment wasn't a long one, and in less than ten minutes she was opening her front door and being greeted by her two beautiful cats rubbing themselves on her legs. Y/n sighed, thinking about how much she needed to unpack now that she was here. The truth was, she didn't know for how long she'd be staying here, but she figured it'd be a long time so she packed a lot. Now she kind of regretted it because she would probably be in her pajamas all day anyway.
After cleaning Pandora and Lizzie's sandbox, Y/n decided to grab an acoustic guitar and try to come up with some melodies. She wasn't quite sure about any lyrics yet, but it was always good to have a little something to start a song.
She went from playing the guitar to play the piano, hoping she'd get more inspirations somewhere. But she had nothing. Not even one decent note. She was empty.
"Don't pretend is... mhmm. Think about the... No." She groaned and slammed the palm of her hands on the keyboard, growing frustrated. Why all of a sudden she couldn't even rhyme? Maybe she needed a break, or perhaps she was tired from her flight and tomorrow she'd be able to write something.
//
Turns out her writer's block was here to stay. A week has passed since her arrival and Y/n hasn't been able to finish one single song. Everything she started ended up being erased or in the middle of her living room after the ripped the page off her journal.
"I told you, you shouldn't hurry. Inspiration will come eventually, it always does."
"I guess. I just have nothing else to do other than play scrabble with you and write songs, or at least try to."
"Let me take out then." Louise started and Y/n shakes her head. "C'mon, let's eat somewhere or buy groceries and I'll cock at your place." Y/n looked at her mom and realized she wouldn't stop until she accepted, so Y/n offered Louise a nod. "Marvelous. There's this little café that I absolutely love. You'll love the owner."
"What is it with you and the owners of local shops?"
"They're my friends. Oh! We could drop by Blossom House. You could use some flowers around your house so it would look like somebody actually lives there."
"Stop dragging me, woman."
Louise drove them to this café called Furry Cakes, which turned out to be a cat café. Y/n obviously lost it as soon as they walked in, and nearly cried when she saw all the kittens, and absolutely shed a tear when the girl behind the register said every kitty except for one named Chaster was up for adoption. She felt like a little girl all over again when her mom told her she couldn't take every single kitty home.
Y/n was wearing a hoodie that was twice her size, plus some big sunglasses she refused to take off, even inside of the café. She was praying she wouldn't get recognized as she knew people were dying for a picture of her, see how she was after the entire world canceled her.
"We'll leave the car parked here, the flower shop is just around the corner." Louise pulled from Y/n's hand to make her walk faster. There weren't a lot of people on the streets and she was grateful for that, she hasn't gotten a proper walk in what felt like ages.
They stopped outside a modern-looking building with a big, bright sign that read 'The Blossom House'. It was simple yet cute. The pair stepped in and a little bell ringed. Y/n looked around, admiring how everything looked like it was straight out of a fairytale. There were little pots hanging from the ceiling and she looked up, she saw the ceiling was pure glass, which made the whole place brighter. Flowers weren't really her thing as she could barely keep them alive, but seeing this amount of flowers all in the same place... made her somewhat happy and warm inside.
She was so deep in thought she didn't even realize her mom left her and was nowhere to be found. It doesn't look like it from outside, but the shop was actually big and very spacious. It was also empty right now, not even an employee was around, so she decided to have a look on her own. It looked like they had all kinds of flowers in here, which made her even more excited because that meant they had-
"Azaleas? They're also my favorites." A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She jumped on her place as she wasn't expecting it, which made the person behind her chuckle. "I didn't mean to scare you, sorry."
"It's okay..." She turned around and it was fair to say that was she saw stunned her right away.
In front of her, a gorgeous looking man was standing there with a bright smile on his face. She noticed the two dimples poking at each side of his face, making his smile even more beautiful. His emerald green eyes were the greenest eyes she has ever seen in her life, she believed. He had crinkles by his eyes due to his smile being wide. But to her, the icing of the cake was the beautiful mop of chocolate curls he had on the top of his head. She suddenly felt the insane urge to run her hands through it just to see if they were as soft as they looked.
"Harry, darling!" Louise appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around the man, who only chuckled while reciprocating the greeting.
"Hello, Louise. What's it gonna be today? Tulips? More daisies?" Oh God, he's British. Y/n thought to herself.
"Gosh, you know me so well. I'm actually here just to look around, I see you found my daughter though." She smirked.
"I surely did. I'm Harry, nice to meet you, love." He offered her a hand for her to shake.
Y/n was a little surprised by the pet name but took his hand nonetheless. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you too."
"I want her to get some plants for her house." Louise spoke again.
"Well, you're in the right place then." He said. "Do you want them for your garden?"
"No, uhm... I don't have one. I live in an apartment."
"Personally, my favorite to keep indoors are Begonias." Harry guided the two women to a different section of the flower shop and pointed to some pretty ones in pink color. "But I also enjoy Daylilies, although they're a little harder to maintain."
"Yeah, maybe not those then. I'm not very good at keeping plants alive."
"She killed a cactus once." Louise mentioned.
"No way."
"I didn't know they'd drown if I watered them more than once a week!" Y/n defended herself.
"Amateur mistake." He joked.
The truth was Y/n was too busy to have a garden, she was always traveling and didn't stay too long in one place so even if she tries to have one, it'd be dead by the end of the month.
"What plants are cat friendly? I have two at home."
"Bromeliads are cat friendly, they're easy to maintain too."
They looked around for a little bit. Harry said a fun fact about every type of flower Y/n pointed out, never failing to make her laugh. The funny thing was, it didn't look like Harry knew who she was. Either he hasn't recognized her, or he didn't know about her. Which by the way, not to be a narcissist, would be highly unlikely.
She ended up taking a couple of new plants home, starting to grow excited about them. It was true, her apartment could use a little more life to it, and now she was sure her new plants would do that for her. Harry was wrapping everything for them while he stood behind the counter.
"Oh, here. This one's on the house." Harry handed her a pot with some beautiful blue Azaleas. She took them with a growing blush on her face, a blush that went deeper when their hands brushed with each other. "Try to not kill them though." He teased.
Y/n rolled her eyes as her mom chuckled behind her. "I'll report their aliveness back to you, you'll see."
"You better. Have a nice day, ladies. I'm guessing I'll see you around, Y/n?"
"Sure, I'm uh... I'm living here right now."
Harry smiled at them one last time before they exited the shop. After the door closed behind them, Louise turned to Y/n. "He likes you."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"What do you say if we invite him for dinner sometime?"
"Like, at your house?" She asked surprised.
"Yeah, why not?"
"I have to keep a low profile, mother. For all I know he could be tweeting about I just exited his shop."
"Don't let the paranoia ruin the possibility of forming new friendships... or more." Louise sent her a wink.
"Okay, that's enough."
Y/n brushed her off, trying not to think much about it. A new friendship sounded impossible at this point of her life, let alone pursuing a new relationship with someone. She had made up her mind, she was better off being alone.
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles series#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles fluffy imagine#harry styles fluff fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#florist!harry styles
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Whumptober Day 6
Touch and Go (Bruises, Touch Starved) Characters: Green, Blue, Grandpa Smith, Vio
But they didn't notice. Well. That was a lie. Blue noticed. But Blue noticed everything.
They should have known something was wrong when the bruises started to appear. They littered up and down his arms and legs like freckles, peeking out in the evenings from under his nightgown. But, after all, he had been training harder and a few extra bruises were hardly anything to pay any mind to.
They should have known something was wrong when his tunics seemed to get a little snug and then suddenly too loose again. He was so busy though, always running around. Everyone brushed it off as a natural consequence of being a knight. He'd surely gain it all back on his summer break, right?
They should have known something was wrong when, on quiet nights when everyone else slept soundly, they would find him in the morning curled around his pillow like a life line.
But they didn't notice. Well. That was a lie. Blue noticed. But Blue noticed everything. He noticed how Red would get careless with the cooking fire on rough weeks, always seeming to be nursing some sort of burn. He noticed how Vio's eye bags were slowly creeping across his face, and his hair was becoming unkempt and long from his many study sessions littered through the week.
He noticed how Red had become so close with the princess, and how his hair had begun to shift to match hers and how he spent more and more time at the palace. How excited the king was to have a son. He noticed how Link's father doted on him for things he didn't think were all that impressive, with the air of expectation that he should eventually “come home” from Grandpa's house. He noticed how Vio withdrew from society, preferring the company of the minish, eventually even retreating so far that the only time he saw the others was for weekends.
Not that Grandpa seemed to mind too much. He noticed too.
He noticed how Link's father hardly ever spared a second glance to Green. And he noticed how Green put everything he had into his facade of normality and cheerfulness and left nothing over for himself. And he noticed how Green really didn't seem to spend much time with anyone, always busy, or kept home with studies. Hollow eyed and doll-like when he did move his ass to hang out. Always preforming perfection.
And it frustrated him.
The strain on their friendship was intense, they were constantly snipping at each other. Well, Blue had started it but he sure as hell wasn't going to finish it. Green, patently (stupidly), refused to ask for help. He wouldn't bend his dumb-ass pride for a single second to reach out or even just vocalize that there was anything wrong to begin with. It had been hard for Blue too but you didn't see him moping about it! So if he wanted to be a big baby about whatever the fuck was making him so unhappy than that was fine by Blue. He was too busy dealing with his own shit to play mind reading games with the miserable crew.
Of course, it did all eventually come to a head. It came to a head on a mid-july day when he came home to find Green curled up in bed, clutching at his pillow with his face buried in it like it was his girlfriend or something.
“Hey would you quit that it's gross,” Blue stuck his tongue out at the dozing figure. Green mumbled into the pillow in response and Blue rolled his eyes.
“I said cut it out geeze Green,” Blue snatched the pillow away and Green contracted into himself.
“Hey, give that back, I was trying to take a nap,” Green reached up pitifully and Blue held the pillow away.
“Why do you even do that Green, it's fucking nasty, why not just go get a plushie like a normal person?”
“Shut up Blue it's none of your business.” Green pouted at him “And anyways that's mine so give it back already.” Finally Green got up to his feet.
“What's the big deal anyways? Huh? It's just a stupid pillow, you have two of em.”
“Just leave me alone! What have I ever done to you??” Green swiped for the pillow again and Blue rolled his eyes at the display.
“Stop being such a baby!”
“If it's just a pillow then why not leave it be?” Vio's voice cut in from the doorway, heartless as ever. Blue didn't have to turn around to know that the stupid prick was glaring at him with his little hypocritical holier than thou act plastered all over his face.
“Shut the fuck up Vio like you know so much about precious things.” Blue barely got the words out before Green was stomping on his foot. He let out a yelp and dropped the pillow that was promptly snatched up by the other colour. He noticed the tears threatening to spill down his face, and the way he shook while he clutched the dumb fucking pillow to his chest.
“Okay, what the fuck ever,” Blue threw his hands up and stalked out of the room, determined to go do something, anything, else to get his mind off it.
“Hey, are you okay Greenie?” Vio's voice was soft and even as he came closer, very practiced, and Green nodded through the panic welling up in his chest, winding him like a spring.
“I'm fine, I just, I want to sleep,” Green sighed, and Vio searched him with his gaze. He hated how perceptive their violet counterpart was at times. He knew he shouldn't be standing there lying like a hypocrite, and he knew Vio knew, but if Vio kept standing there the panic was going to bubble out into the world and then he would have to pick up the pieces.
Vio, blessedly, nodded, moving out of the room and Green let out a shaking sigh as the tears began to pour out of his eyes, in pain, and embarrassment at the way Blue had dragged his childishness out of him like that. He curled back into his bed, pulling the cover up over his head and letting the tears flow freely. He hated how pathetic he felt, how poor of a substitute his pillow was for a real hug. But it'd have to do, after all it's not like any of the others wanted to hug him, and why would they? He was the most boring colour after all. The ugliest. The others were like flowers and he was like dirt. Something necessary sure, but plain, only begrudgingly accepted. Never anyone's first choice. He was glad he couldn't hear yelling, he didn't want to have to drag himself out of bed to break up yet another disagreement gone nasty between the two others.
He didn't hear Grandpa enter the room and when the man sat on his bedside he jumped so hard he smacked into the bottom of Blue's bunk, flinging himself back and hissing in pain as he settled into a crouch, ready to pounce. What a sight he must have been, squinting through the pain, tears dripping down his cheeks, hissing like a frightened animal at his own grandfather. He blinked through the remaining tears and settled down on his knees, ears drooping shamefully at his shoulders.
“Hey there sweet-pea, I didn't mean to frighten you,” the words stained Green's cheeks a burning shade of red and he nodded into his lap, mortified, But Grandpa's face settled into a mask of gentle determination. Grandpa snapped his fingers and Green refocused on his hands, brought out of the downward spiral of his mood by the action/
“Vio told me you and Blue had a fight. Do you want to tell me your side of it?” Grandpa's sign was gentle and soothing, but it still sent a spike of fear through Green's stomach. He nodded dutifully, and took a deep breath to steady his shot nerves back into alignment.
“I was trying to take a nap since it's my day off and then Blue came in to pick a fight, and I.. he got me riled up cause he stole my pillow and wouldn't give it back. I know it was childish but I got angry at him and made him give it back. I'll go apologize.” Green's eyes flicked down, sign nearly as frantic as the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. Grandpa's hands stilled his own and his world narrowed down to the point of contact, he had to bite back the tears again when he pulled away to speak.
“Green, I'm glad you're being mature about this, but I'm not upset with you for being “childish”. You're still a kid, remember? I just want to help you two work it out,” Grandpa scootched closer and Green paused.
“Honestly? I usually forget,” the words slipping between his fingers like a gust of wind before he could stop them, eyes going wide with shock enough to match the sorrow that glinted in Grandpa's eyes. “I mean, it's just. I'm expected to be the Hero and keep everyone working together all the time and be the leader and be mature and just deal with it and not let anyone see weakness. It's just, it's hard to not work like that all the time.” His foot was already in his mouth, might as well get it off his chest. He sighed again, shoulders rising up to his ears.
“I'm sorry, it's just really hard and I don't want to let anyone down,” he was wiping away tears again. All he really wanted was a hug.
Grandpa shifted closer again and Green fought down the urge to collapse into his chest, “Oh sweet pea why would you think that?”
“It's just, everyone else gets to fall down and need help, and drop out and leave the public eye and be themselves. But I have the same favourite colour as Link so everyone expects me to be him and act like him and be the hero and be the leader. I don't want to ask the others for help 'cause I'm the one they all come to when they need help, and, I don't want to ask father 'cause he always looks so sad when he sees me, and I don't want to ask anyone else 'cause I don't want to burden them when they all have so much on their plates already and I don't want to be selfish but I don't know what to do anymore.” Green rambled on as everything he'd been damming back flooded out. Grandpa brushed the bangs out of his tears gently before pulling him into a hug. Green melted into the contact, dripping tears turning into desperate sobs as he clung to his grandfather's forge-warm tunic.
Eventually, after his tears had dried out, Grandpa pressed a kiss to the top of Green's head, making him promise to come and ask for help when he needed it before tucking him back into bed. He was dozing in moments, and he'd nearly drifted off when he heard a quiet knocking at his door.
“Hey Green,” Blue's voice was much quieter than it usually was and Green looked over balefully swallowing the urge to ask if he came to steal his blanket this time too.
“Um, I'm sorry, about earlier. I didn't want to hurt you, I just got really frustrated cause I could see there was something wrong and I didn't know how to get you to talk about it, and I know that's not an excuse for being mean,” Blue was nearly mumbling into his boots, but Green could hear the hurt in his voice.
Green considered him for a moment before scooting back up from bed and launching himself into Blue's unsuspecting arms.
“It's ok, I forgive you,” He mumbled into the hug and Blue's startled laughter, before the air was crushed out of him when Blue returned the favour, lifting him up off his feet with the force. He'd never felt better. Okay maybe he had, he winced with a yelp when Blue caught a particularly nasty bruise on his side, cursing the wooden sword that had given it to him.
“I'm proud of you,” Green's feet hit the floor to the sight of his Grandpa beaming in from the door, “both of you,”
#whumptober2021#no 6.#touchandgo#bruises#touch starved#four swords#fic#self harm tw#neglect tw#bullying tw#green link#blue link#grandpa smith#my fic#hmm idk how to tag this#its pre linked universe#post fsm#ezlo is implied#look#this fic has an audience of three#and im two of them#enjoy babes#nocturnalswhumptobertag#the crayola boxed set
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Drabble: The Clause in the Will
I never planned to write a Ransom story. And then @eurynome827 posted her 2K Celebration and the opening to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was one of the prompts. I’m a whore for anything Pride and Prejudice... and my brain automatically connected the quote with Ransom. And would not let go.
To make an already complicated drabble even harder... I decided to write it with each section being exactly 100 words. It was both a blessing (this story could have SNOWBALLED quickly) and a curse (if you’ve written a 100 word drabble, you get it).
But it’s finished and I love how it turned out! And I was quite proud of myself for the very-Eury way I ended it.
So to @eurynome827 congrats again on 2,000 followers!
Title: The Clause in the Will
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: some language, some minor violence/threats, suggestive
Note: This is AU and it uses the characters from Knives Out but doesn’t follow the story.
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
“Bull. Fucking. Shit.” Ransom Drysdale muttered as he wadded up another of his late grandfather's marriage-related quote notecards. They were hidden everywhere.
It had been nearly a year since his grandfather, the famed author Harlan Thrombey, had passed away, leaving Ransom as the head of Blood Like Wine Publishing. A role that he had spent the last twenty years being groomed for.
Ransom had worked his way through the ranks of the company following college and had been prepared when the time had come.
Well, prepared for everything except his grandfather's cluttered office.
At least the houses weren't his problem.
-- -- -- --
You’d started at BLW Publishing as an marketing intern after college and you’d climbed your way to the vice president of that department in the twelve years that had followed.
You loved every single part of your job.
Or at least you had until Mr. “Call Me Ransom” Drysdale had taken over the running of the company.
He had spent his years at the company floating between departments, to learn everything he could. Which meant the two of you had worked together multiple times.
But he seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons. And knew exactly what buttons to push when.
-- -- -- --
"You told me months ago that the marriage clause wasn't legally binding," Ransom fumed. "And now you're telling me it is?!"
His lawyers avoided his gaze.
"Get out!" Ransom shouted and they scurried out.
He had seven days to find a wife and marry her.
If he didn't, he lost the company.
It was just like his grandfather to pull a stunt like this. Even from the grave.
He should just let his prick of an uncle have the company. Just to prove a point.
But he knew he couldn't.
His uncle would ruin everything.
Ransom wouldn't let that happen.
-- -- -- --
"You're not the pizza guy," you said, opening your front door to find Ransom standing on the other side with a bouquet of roses and your pizza.
"Met him in the elevator. Can I come in?"
Stepping aside, you let him in. Only noticing as he passed that his normal confident aura was missing.
"What's wrong?"
He explained everything while the two of you ate pizza.
"Walt would destroy everything," you commiserated.
"Exactly."
Then he pulled out a ring box.
"Will you marry me and help me save the company we both love from ruin?"
How could you say no?
-- -- -- --
"I got married."
Ransom had chosen a public setting to share his news in hopes that his uncle wouldn't make a scene.
The fact that it was day six of his seven day window was pure coincidence.
Glancing at his wife, he found her staring across the table at his uncle, who, Ransom soon saw, was nearly purple with rage.
"This can't be legal!" his uncle shouted over the congratulations from the others. "It should have been mine! All of it!"
Then Walt pushed his chair back and stormed out of the private dining room, his wife and son following.
-- -- -- --
Logically, you knew marrying Ransom would mean moving into his house, but you'd thought you'd have more time.
But with his uncle looking for any reason to question the legitimacy of the marriage, you and Ransom agreed it had to happen now.
The two of you packed up your apartment and then had everything you were keeping moved to his house.
To his credit, Ransom made as much room for your stuff in the common areas of the house as possible, wanting you to feel at home.
But the only place that truly felt that way was your private bedroom.
-- -- -- --
Ransom sat in the hall with Walt as their lawyers met with a judge behind closed doors following another of Walter's attempts to fight the will.
"I’ve heard rumors," Walt said, his tone was nonchalant, but it was laced with venom. "About how your wife became v-"
Ransom had his hand around his uncle's throat before Walt could make another sound.
"That is my wife," he growled. "You will not say one more fucking thing about her or I will sue you for libel. Do you understand me?"
Walt let out a squeak of acknowledgement and Ransom let him go.
-- -- -- --
You'd known Ransom for years.
But after living with him for a few weeks, you realized you hadn't really known him at all.
Work Ransom demanded the respect and attention owed to the boss.
Home Ransom was softer and wore faded blue jeans instead of three piece suits.
He liked spending Saturday mornings at the market and he loved to cook.
And boy could he cook!
The one on one time with him at home had given you a whole new appreciation for your husband.
He opened up to you about things you were sure he'd never told anyone else.
-- -- -- --
Ball buster.
That's how he'd described her the first time he had worked with her on a project.
It was the reason he had recommended her for the vice president role when it had opened up.
Kind. Funny. Caring. Passionate.
Those were the words that came to mind now when he thought of her.
She was the type of woman who could tell a dirty joke one minute and then have a serious conversation about his upbringing.
He'd been hesitant to include her at first, but their Saturday morning shopping trips were quickly becoming his favorite activity of the week.
-- -- -- --
You loved Ransom.
It hit you like a ton of bricks as you sat in the middle of a meeting at work, a month later.
You were supposed to be paying attention, but your eyes kept going across the table to where Ransom sat.
You couldn't explain how you knew, you just did.
When had it happened? You didn't know that either.
All you knew was that he was handsome and he was all yours.
At least on paper.
The joy faded from you as you remembered the two of you were roommates. Nothing more.
You wished that could change.
-- -- -- --
Ransom didn't know when it happened, but he realized one Saturday morning, a few months in, that he was in love with his wife.
He hadn't planned to fall in love with her. He'd envisioned them being married for a few years, to solidify his role at the publishing company, and then divorcing as quietly as they had married.
Being in love complicated things.
It made him think about her happiness above his own.
Was she happy with him?
If she wasn't, was he prepared to walk away from her and the company to ensure her happiness?
Yes, he decided.
-- -- -- --
"We need to talk," he said, setting a manilla envelope on the kitchen counter.
"What's that?"
"Annulment papers."
"What?!" you asked in complete disbelief.
"I love you," he confessed. "If you're not happy, I'm -"
"I love you, too," you cut him off, joy filling your heart.
Moving around the island, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss.
"An annulment would have cost you everything," you said.
"Your happiness means more to me," he said. "Even if it meant giving everything to Walt."
"The company is yours," you told him. "Forever."
"Ours."
-- -- -- --
"Are you coming in?"
She stood in the doorway to what had been his bedroom.
After their declaration of love, he'd properly courted her.
Taking her out on dates. Sending her flowers just because.
They'd kissed a lot and had made it to all the bases, as they say, except home.
That was the plan tonight, she'd told him.
They'd gone out for dinner and then she'd asked him to take her home.
Home to their home.
To their bedroom.
Her eyes met his as she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. Letting it fall to the floor.
#theycallmebecca#theycallmebeccawrites#Becca writes drabbles#ransom drysdale#ransom drydale x you#ransom drysdale fanfiction#ransom drysdale fan fiction#ransom drysdale fanfic#Eury2kchallenge
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Light Yagami/GN! L’s Sibling!Reader — Protector
⚠️Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, manipulation, reader experiences grief, major character death, open ending.
requested by @darkrose33 ! sorry this took so long, I mostly finished writing it and then changed ideas halfway through, so I rewrote it all lol. I could not think of a way that the dynamic and story line that was requested could work in the context of a healthy relationship, so this isn't exactly a happy or romantic oneshot. I wanted to make this as realistic to Light's motivations and character as I could. I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted but you can always request something else if you would like :)
For as long as you can remember, your big brother was the person you looked up to the most. He was the brains, the one who had no trouble with the academics but every ounce of trouble with the social aspect of life. He wasn’t one to care what people thought about him socially, which in turn allowed him to behave however he wanted. He was an expert at leaving a room silent and stunned with just his words because of his lack of filter, telling only the brutal, honest truth when necessary. You couldn’t help but admire L Lawliet more than anything else in the world.
And because you held such admiration for the boy, you appointed yourself to be the role of his protector. Some kid called him a weirdo behind his back? Not to worry, with a little persuasion you can get them to apologize. He’s feeling overworked and you overhear one of the adults talking about a pile of paperwork they are about to drop off to L’s room? Huh, it seems that paperwork somehow ended up in the fireplace, nothing but a pile of ashes left of it. How strange. However you could protect him, you took on that challenge, even if it was simply being in the same room as him for emotional support. If you knew he needed to consume at least one vegetable that week, you were there to deliver, even if you had to hide it in a piece of cake. Whatever you could do, you did. Some told you that was what made you two so interesting – he was the brains, and you were the brawn, but you both needed each other to balance out. Like Yin and Yang.
So imagine your despair when, quite suddenly, L didn’t need you anymore. He was solving more cases, gaining in fame as the world’s greatest detective in his mere teenage years. He would, undoubtedly, need more protection than little ol’ you could provide once professional criminals found the desire to seek him out and kill him. And of course you wanted him to be safe, wanted him to thrive in the occupation that he excelled at, but…you missed your big brother with all of your heart. Not a day went by that you didn’t wish you could bring L his lunch or defend his honor out in the kickball field when some kid wouldn’t shut their big fat mouth. You missed those days.
You heard about the Kira case and how it was kicking everyone on the task force’s ass, including L’s. It only made you wish you could be there more. You kept up on the news, though. It was just about the only thing you could do. You tried to distract yourself with your own studies, but it was difficult to even try when you knew you could never in your wildest imagination come close to rising above your big brother.
You kept reminding yourself that you were grown now. You were fully capable of making a life for yourself that didn’t involve L – that didn’t include worrying about him every few moments. So you worked however pointless it may have seemed. You cooked, you did chores, even started taking up odd jobs to complete during the little free time you would have spent sleeping if you weren’t prone to dreams about the danger L could be in. Every moment in life was spent trying not to worry…only for you to realize that you had every right to worry all along.
The news itself was not particularly surprising. L and every single one of his runners up had to write out their will in advance – about a decade early. Death was to be expected in that line of work.
You had since moved out of Wammy’s house officially, but always stuck around to do the gardening, occasionally the cooking as well. Also the cleaning…you were basically the Wammy house maid, but you were grateful for the distractions.
When the news came, you were in the middle of planting a batch of bulbs you had bought at the store the previous day – white lilies. You had nearly passed them by in favor of a more colorful flower, but when your eyes caught the lack of pigment of the fully grown lily on the packaging, you couldn’t help but be reminded of your big brother’s pale as bone skin. You had chuckled at the memory, blinked away a few rising tears, and plucked the bulbs from the shelf. Now, with about half of the bulbs buried under the soil and half waiting to be planted, you listened to Roger’s words grow increasingly louder the closer he came to where you sat crouched in the dirt. You wished you hadn’t listened, though. For he only brought you sorrow.
It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Roger when he had come to tell you of your brother’s passing, it was simply that it was near impossible for you to imagine a world without the eccentric boy you’d grown up alongside. Sure, you’d been separated for some time now, but you’d grown used to knowing that even if he wasn’t with you, he was still somewhere fighting for the justice he believed in. To be told that he suddenly wasn’t in this world anymore…? You had to see it for yourself. So, despite Roger’s warnings, you ran inside and booked a flight to Japan as soon as you could. In your blind panic, you must have trampled the remaining bulbs you had yet to give life to.
…
The flight was stressful, the landing equally so. The drive to the task force building – torture. By the time you made it out of the car and through the doors of the task force building, you swore your throat was closing up. A glass of water was offered to you and, gratefully accepting the offer, you glugged the water down in a matter of seconds before someone else was offering you a seat.
You sat, pulling your legs up and curling them in. The chair was then pushed into place at a table and the man who offered it to you…placed a hand on your shoulder…?
You jolted, the empty cup in your hands almost toppling out of your grip.
“I’m sorry…! I should have asked first. My apologies…and my condolences.”
He appeared younger than everyone else around you. Young enough to be just about your age. His apologetic smile shone down on you like a beacon of light in the dark and dreary times you had seemingly been trapped in for so long. After that thought, you had stared in disbelief when he told you his name. Light. Fitting, you thought.
Light placed a hand onto the chair next to you, looking at you as if for permission. You nodded vaguely, hoping to convey your silent gratitude for him being so considerate. It wasn’t as if no one else had been this kind to you since hearing about the news, it was more so that you got the sense Light actually cared rather than simply spouting out the usual ‘I’m sorry’s you’re supposed to when someone experiences a loss. His words were not empty; they were full of life and intent. What that intent was, you didn’t know, but you wanted to keep feeling it over the usual hollow atmosphere you and your brother grew up in. So, before you knew it, you were spending hours at a time talking with Light Yagami, the very man who would be taking over the Kira case since your brother’s death.
It was indeed shocking to you how someone so young, even young in comparison to L, could lead an entire investigation. Granted, he had the rest of the task force by his side, but after only one day of observing their dynamic, you could feel the disconnection between them. Light was multiple steps ahead of them; there was no question about it. At times you got the sense he was keeping things from them. But, then again, you were almost certain L had done the same thing while he was leading them. It was difficult to blame someone so intelligent when they wanted to save time and not explain to everyone what their plan is, but lead them all like sheep. It would be faster that way, easier too.
With that final thought, the pedestal you were putting Light on became visible to you. But it couldn’t be a bad thing. It was normal for you to look up to your brother, yes? With Light, it was a different sensation altogether, but the same idea. You admired him, and you couldn’t see the harm in that when he was rubbing your back in comforting circles as you cried, talking to you and telling stories when you wanted to focus on something else. He was helping you, and because he wanted to, no less.
…
It was a strange sensation to wake up and have everyone you know suddenly become cautious around you, treating you like glass that would break if they said the wrong thing. After just a few minutes of this, you knew exactly what day it was. It somewhat startled you, your brother’s funeral being so soon. You wondered if the date had been pushed up, but no. You had simply been…distracted. In a good way, that is. When you first arrived in Japan, you thought that nothing but dread would accompany your visit. You had no clue how you would make it through the couple of days leading up to the funeral, how you would occupy your time. Sightseeing felt disrespectful. Besides, how could you appreciate fine architecture or lush greenery with such a weight in your heart, spreading throughout your body like a disease? What you hadn’t expected was to find someone who seemingly made everything more bearable. Someone who made the days pass faster.
This special someone helped you into your outfit – all black, casual yet put together. Light was gentle with you that day. Not skittish or cautious like the others were, but soft and loving. He would touch you, hands on your shoulders and a brush of his fingers through your hair every now and then, but it would be feather light and comforting all the same. He knew exactly how to make you feel noticed and cared for, but not in the least bit overwhelmed with affection – a perfect medium.
Driving to the graveyard was not as stressful as your initial drive from the airport. You originally suspected this was the case because you had time to accept the reality of it all; you were able to let the information ferment and sink in. But, as you got steadily closer to your destination and all the grief you had avoided for the last few days began to bubble to the surface of your mind, you realized this was not the case. What you had time to do was ignore the truth, become distracted as you always did. It had always been your way of dealing with your own problems. It was L’s problems you could face head on. But anything personal to you? No sir. You desperately wished you’d taken the time to develop a better coping mechanism as the car pulled into the small patch of asphalt among a sea of grass and graves.
You hadn’t even realized how fast you were breathing until Light clasped your hand, his free hand reaching to turn your head to face him directly. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” You nodded. “Good. Now, I want you to take slower, deeper breaths, alright?” you nodded again and followed his instructions – in then out at a slow pace, inhaling as deeply as you could before blowing the air from your mouth. You squeezed Light’s hand and sent him a weary smile when you had gathered your wits.
The fresh air did you good as you stepped out of the car, shoes crunching in the loose grains of asphalt and soon gliding through blades of grass. You started to calm down, internally congratulating yourself for not freaking out with each step. This was the continued routine until the gravestone came into view. The task force was heading toward it, so no doubt it was L’S. It was marked by a fairly large, golden cross that reflected the setting sun like a mirror. You ducked your head, pretending that it was indeed the sun in your eyes that caused you to stop and cover your face. You waved for Light to go on ahead and assured him you would meet him there in a bit. You were absolutely sure no one bought your excuse, but they still respected your wishes and left you behind to gather around your brother’s grave while you turned your back to it.
You walked back to the car almost on autopilot. You could barely see, so you trained your eyes on the ground as tears freely flowed down your cheeks, not a sound leaving your lips until you were safely beside the vehicle you arrived in. You stomped your foot in the asphalt, kicked the loose pebbles around, feeling just like the child you used to be. Throwing a tantrum was not on your funeral to-do list, but there you were. You just didn’t know if you could bear it, seeing your brother for the last time as nothing but a slab of stone. You could sit by it, protect it all you wanted but it would never need you. Not like he used to. You could plant those lilies you had abandoned by it. That wasn’t actually a terrible idea.
You didn’t know how long you were standing there, pacing in the middle of the parking lot. Mustn’t have been too long, as the sun hadn’t even passed over the horizon, but it felt like an eternity.
Until…what was that? Something caught your attention, causing your head to snap up in search for the source. The others were nowhere in sight, all that stirred were a couple of birds from a nearby tree. That could have been another family visiting a grave, which would make sense given that the noise sounded similar to hysterical crying. Or…was that laughter?
You began to grow worried, deciding on a whim to check up on the others. You wouldn’t approach the grave unless you had to, you decided. Yeah, good plan, you managed to convince yourself as you took steps toward the grave. With every few feet, the noises grew louder, and you were soon able to recognize words. You sped up your pace until you made it over the hill that separated the parking lot from the field only to find…
What was Light doing on the ground? No, a better question would be: what was Light – the person who was working his ass off to catch Kira – doing kneeling on your brother’s grave, shouting that he would get rid of the police? That this is his perfect victory? That he wins?
You felt…what? What could sum up that feeling that filled your chest when that sight was exposed to you? You felt confused, you felt unsure. Then, with the realization of what was going on, you felt betrayal. Then, in a sudden wave intense enough to make you feel as though you would fall over, you felt furious. You felt a sudden need to protect your older brother just like you had done for years with playground bullies and critics, but this time with someone you thought you could trust. Someone you loved who had apparently taken advantage of your care for him – someone who had lied to your face about who they truly were.
Before you knew it you were sprinting across the field. You had no clue what you were going to do until you got to the grave and quite literally kicked him off the soil your own flesh and blood was buried under. The move was so swift you wondered if it had actually happened or if this was all some sick nightmare. God, you hoped it was. Although you almost didn’t want to pray to god now, as there was a self-proclaimed god sitting with the wind knocked out of him at your feet.
“You…you GODDAMN FUCKING TRAITOR—” you couldn’t tell if Light was actually looking at you with eyes glinting with fear or if the sunset lighting was playing tricks on you. “THAT’S MY FUCKING BROTHER—YOU CAN’T—I SHOULD NEVER HAVE—” It was impossible to finish a sentence or even a thought in your own brain. There were so many things you wanted to say and kill him for but right now everything was jumbled together.
The way Light was staring at you didn’t exactly help. Eyes that now looked red in the setting sun bore into your own pupils from the ground. He looked dead serious, almost angry that you had the guts to knock him to the ground in your fit of rage. But although your words were coming out in screaming stutters your movements seemed swift and sure, as the moment Light moved to stand up your foot flew to action once more and planted right onto his chest. His back met the ground for a second time. He wasn’t even trying to contain his fury, clawing at your ankle and baring his teeth like a dog trying his best to be intimidating, but still eager to know what you were planning to do next. After all, he could have easily shoved you off. But he was curious.
You spoke calmly now, mind set on what you wanted to ask. “You never cared about me, did you?” Light’s mouth opened to answer but you went on without letting him speak. “No, you cared about me, but only because my brother was L, and I could give you information now that he’s gone. Am I right?” again, his mouth opened, but when your heel unexpectedly dug into his chest he let out a pained and irritated groan instead of coherent words. It was like you were teasing him, not to get a laugh out of his pain but…for what? You barely even knew yourself. It wouldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t make you less humiliated for being tricked and it certainly wouldn’t bring your brother back. Either way, Light definitely didn’t like it.
Before you had the chance to react you were thrown onto your back. Light had pushed you back by your leg and rose to his feet, now above you in every sense of the word. He – Kira – had carried out his plan. Meanwhile, you had nothing left.
“You don’t have to go against me,” Light seethed, “All you have to do is let the new world take its shape, and everything will fall into place.”
“That’s a shitty sales pitch.”
“It’s an offer. You’ve done nothing wrong, committed no crimes. You’d do well in my world.” The look on your face made it apparent that you had no interest in his words. Light furrowed his brows, then the ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “I know you –”
“You don’t know anything about me. And I clearly didn’t know you.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows.
“—you wouldn’t want your brother’s death to be in vain.”
“I—” you paused. “What?”
“L was an obstacle I had to pass to get to a world where less people would have to suffer the same loss you have. I expect you don’t want to just throw away his death and turn me in. you can make something out of his sacrifice—“
“He wasn’t TRYING to be sacrificed; he was TRYING to put a vigilante maniac to death.”
“But if his death could mean a better world for others, you would just throw that away for your own revenge?”
You blinked, once, twice, then rapidly, shaking your head as if trying to prevent dust from getting into your eyes, or Light’s siren song from getting into your head. “Stop. That’s not…Just stop.”
“You know I’m right.” He stepped towards you and for a second you thought he was about to repay you for crushing his lungs moments ago. All that followed was his hand shooting out, stopping in front of your face. You looked up at him in disbelief. “I’ll love and care for you as I did before. I can be the one you care for in his place. All I ask is that you help me create a better world, or at least don’t try and stop me.”
You nearly scoff, but some of his words actually catch your attention. He’d love and care for you…but it would all be fake. Still, what kind of person would you be to reject others a grief-less world just to avenge your brother? But who ever said Light would follow through, not become corrupt along the way if he wasn’t already? There were so many possibilities and so many possible outcomes, all influenced by this one decision that you had to make right now.
You choked on your words.
Familiar voices were approaching.
Time was ticking.
“I…”
#tw unhealthy relationship#tw manipulation#death note#light Yagami#death note x reader#light yagami x reader#x reader#reader insert#angst#heavy angst#no happy ending#l's sibling reader#tw grief#tw grieving#death note oneshot#x reader oneshot#light yagami oneshot#death note fanfiction#oneshot#open ending
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Sleep
Made a Chuck/Papa G fanfic. Lemme know what you think. I don’t really like writing fanfics I mostly enjoy drawing comics. Oh well. Gotta get better at writing though somewhere I guess. I’m putting it under ‘Keep Reading’ ‘cause it’s a little long.
It's been a couple months for Chuck on this planet Earth. He's been living with George, or Papa G, in his house ever since he was thrown off his cowardly ex leader's ship. He thought it was a bad idea at first, especially since he caused them so much trouble, but George wouldn't take 'No' for an answer and immediately started fixing up that spare room he used to use as storage. He found some planets and hung them up from string on the ceiling over his bed. He painted the walls with other planets and some big stars. The nightstand and dresser were painted blue and black. There was a UFO lamp on his nightstand by his bed, it looked like it was abducting a cow. Chuck kinda likes it, he thinks it's a little silly. Where you'd walk in, you'd see the bed across the room by the oval shaped window. The floor was made of wood and there was an oval shaped rug that was black with two yellow rings on the outside and had Earth and the moon on the inside. He even had his own little T.V across from his bed on the dresser with some VHS tapes that Papa G found, or some that he bought from Jo. Most of them being about Action, some of them Horror, others were Romance. When Chuck first saw his new room he nearly cried. He never had his own room. Never looked as nice as this. Chuck wasn't sure how to thank him. He's a strange old man but he was kind and caring. But he later found out that George was struggling with money so he decided to get a job working at Mo's Oasis Cafe. It was a difficult week, new customers coming in, giving him some trouble but Tuna was kind enough to show them the Exit. Some were friendly. Some of them asked him quick questions like: Where he was from, how old was he, and his favorite: Was he single? But others would give him cold glares when he'd go back in the kitchen. He mostly cleaned the dishes but would sometimes take the customer's orders if Jo was running late or sick. Which was barely. After a little while, work got better. There were some problems here and there but not enough to wanna make him quit. Besides, coming home to see Kid running up to him excitedly to tell him everything he did today was nice. Or coming home to see George made him dinner and found something cool while him and Kid were exploring the desert, lookin' for treasure, and wanted to give it to him.
When they all went out to explore with Jo, Rosa and Tuna to see if anything new popped up in the desert, Papa G decided to bring some paper and pencils and crayons this time. Later he Sat down by a rock and started drawing something. Rosa wasn't interested in art at the moment, she was busy playing Princess and dragons with Chuck, Kid and Jo. Kid was the dragon and Jo was the wizard protecting Knight Rosa and Princess Chuck. Papa G kept glancing up at them and smiling. Eventually Rosa got tired and started picking flowers for Chuck, Jo and Kid. Everyone was eating snacks except George. He was focused on his drawing. As Chuck was eating some ice cream he noticed that George was staring at him. When he looked at him he quickly looked back down at the paper and continued drawing. He blinked. He was he...? No-he thought; he's probably drawing something else. He continued eating.
The sun was setting and it was time to head home. Papa G was carrying sleeping Rosa with one arm while holding his drawings and pens in the other. Jo was carrying sleeping Kid on her back. Papa G helped Chuck get his wheel chair in the back of the truck and helped him in. They all went home. George brought Kid back to the little trailer and tucked him in bed. He gave him a kiss on his head and turned out the light.
Papa G:"Sweet dreams kiddo." He whispered and went to the house. Chuck was in his room lying on his bed and watching T.V. He was finishing up one of the action movies until George came in."Well, G'night Charles. I'm going to bed. If ya need anythin' wake me up."
Chuck:"Good-night George." When he shut the door something fell to the floor from his pocket. Chuck got down and picked it up. It was one of his drawings. He gasped silently when he saw that some of these sketches were him. So he was drawing him! There's one where he seems happy with flowers that Rosa picked on his head, one where he's eating ice cream and another....he's sleeping? He looked confused. He doesn't remember sleeping. He can't actually remember when the last he actually had a good-night sleep. He's always been wide awake when he was on gaurd on the ship. Anytime he'd get tired, he'd force himself awake. It's what you had to do. Either that or be punished. He heard the credits song playing. The movie had ended. He looked back at his bed. He shrugged. Well...he wasn't back on the ship anymore... what harm could sleeping do now? He turned off his lamp and covered up under the blankets. He looked out the window on his right and was watching the stars until sleep finally took over him.
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The alarms were going off.
Something was very wrong.
Chuck found himself wide awake in his old bed. He had his legs back and gun in hand. He jumped out and ran out the door.
Chuck:"W....why am I here? I thought I was--"
PEWWW!
He was nearly hit with a ray to the face. He dodged it and it hit another soldier. Killing them instantly. He started running as more shots were fired. Killing or injuring his team. Smoke and screams filled the air.
Chuck:"I need to get out of here!" His heart was beating against his chest. He was so confused and afraid. Was he kidnapped? Was any of this real?! Why was this happening? The walls blew up and he hit the ground with the wall landing on top of him. He struggled to break free. He called for help but the soldiers kept running. They were ignoring his cries for help. He felt something on top of him slowly begin to crush him. He looked up. Glaring down at him was a mechanical monster with large glowing red eyes. It opened it's mouth showing rows and rows of sharp teeth. He tried reaching for his gun across from him but he couldn't grab it. The creature came closer towards his head. He couldn't do anything. He screamed. It was all he could do.
"Chuck!"
He stopped screaming when he heard that familiar voice.
"George?"
"Chuck!"
The voice was coming from behind him. He looked at the monster. No longer did it seem all that terrifying. It was giving him a look of concern...?
"Chuck! Wake up, Chuck! It's all a nightmare!" It spoke in George's voice.
-----------------------------------------------
Chuck opened his eyes finally and found himself on the floor by his bed with the blankets wrapped around him. George was over him with a worried look on his face. He was still in his pajamas and was wearing his glasses. Chuck sighed, he was relieved it was all a dream. George smiled.
George:"Haha....you gave me quite a scare there..." He helped him up back on the bed and fixed the blankets."Alright, no more ice cream and popcorn before bed." He said, he was joking kinda. He could see that Chuck was still shaking."I know, wanna come down stairs and watch T.V with me? I'll make some tea." He spoke softly. Chuck calmed himself down.
Chuck:"Uh, alright then." Instead of taking his wheel chair, Papa G carried him down stairs to the living room and placed him on the couch. He went in the kitchen and made them both tea. He sat back down next to Chuck and they both watched some T.V for a little while. George finally spoke up.
George:"So you finally went back to sleep."
Chuck:"Hm?" They looked at each other.
George:"I've seen you sleep before but it wasn't long 'till Kid woke you up when he and Jo started blasting music. You nearly hit me in the head with that glass cup. Do you remember that?" Chuck tried to remember but nothing came up. He shook his head no. He was frowning. "Anythin' you want to talk about?"
Chuck:"There's nothing really to talk about. I'm pretty sure I've told you about all my adventures in space." He took a drink of his tea.
George:"I can tell you left out some of the worst ones from Kid. You and I both know it's not all fun and games in Space." Chuck looked away from him. "If you don't wanna talk about it, it's fine. If you need someone I'm right here for ya Charles." He smiled and took a drink. Chuck looked back at him. He already knew he could put his trust in George. But hearing him say those words out loud made him feel better.
Chuck:"Thank you, George. That means a lot." He never noticed it until now but he was so tired. He never knew he was this tired. But he wanted to stay awake a little longer. They watched T.V all night with blankets wrapped around them. George was leaning on the arm of the couch and Chuck was starting to lean on George. He felt his arm around him, gently pulling him close and held his hand. Chuck squeezed it gently and laid his head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes. He felt his worries slowly disappear and soon fell asleep.
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Little Blue Eyes
A brief follow-up to this. Eleanor visits Michael during his reforming.
.
She had to hand it to Jason. If anyone had told her that it was possible to break a Janet out of Hell and get her away from an army of demons using just a Molotov, a single demon exploder gun, and a bag of weed, she’d have been very sceptical. But somehow he managed to bring their not-a-girl home, riding back in that hand-cart, grinning away as if he’d gone to a Jaguars game with her.
That was one problem dealt with. Now only a billion others to sort out.
As overjoyed as she’d been to see Janet back, safe and sound, she hadn’t been looking forward to reliving the most awful night of the year by explaining to her why their tall, dandy dressed demon wasn’t at her side, or hadn’t gone to save her.
It was easier to hand her the note that Michael had wrote (or possibly snapped into being after she slammed the door as she was sure even he couldn’t write that fast) before he’d pulled the trigger on himself.
I’m sorry.
I don’t want you to be worrying about how I might betray you or let you down again. If I’m locked up, you’re just going to worry that I’ve escaped. Just leave me in a tank on the other side of the map, or in Janet’s void if you bring her back, or just leave me in the Bad Place. If anything I just wanna ask that you make sure I’m all in there as I’d rather not come back shorter. Also if you can make sure no dogs are around to lap me up, I’d appreciate it.
I only ever wanted to save you all. I’m sorry I did nothing but screw up. I understand if you don’t want me back in the group after I’m back to normal. Please just get Janet back safe, even if it does mean going to the Judge. And give my best to Chidi when he wakes up.
I wasn’t lying about one thing; I really do love you all so much. I’m sorry it could never be enough.
Michael.
Reading the goo-stained letter with shaking hands, she’d struggled not to burst into tears of anger or throw up. Standing in the middle of the empty room, her friend dripping all around her, she’d wanted to scream at him for this being his best attempt to make things up to her - to forking leave her! To take the cowards way out.
Being angry was so much easier than accepting the guilt of what she had said to him before that moment. Of questioning if she had gone too far...if she’d just taken a moment to listen to him...Usually the dude had trouble shutting the fork up but that night, all he’d done is stand there and take everything she threw at him...until there was nothing left standing. Literally.
If she’d had any idea he would do something so reckless and stupid then of course she would never have said...
But you did know. You knew exactly what he was prepared to do to help you, if it’s what you said you needed. What you wanted.
She never wanted this, she admits to herself, barely a couple months later.
Running this experiment basically single-handed was...not overly difficult. In fact, she was pretty confident in saying they were doing okay, considering the circumstances.
But it still sucked. She was alone. Again.
Obviously there was no way she was going to have Michael’s goo abandoned in some random, isolated location. She was mad at the guy but she wasn’t a monster...so she told herself. At the same time, she couldn’t give up the role he’d thrusted upon her by suddenly taking up the role of nurse-maid, as hot as she might have looked in the uniform. He’d chosen to do this so she could work without distractions. Without a liability.
“He sacrificed himself to save me. We’re on our own now. Let’s make it count.”
Just get the fork on with things, same as before. No point in looking back.
Tahani is the one who volunteers. She’s able to separate herself from the other humans without causing too much suspicion, claiming the need for a private getaway up in the hills, deep in the valley, a hidden fancy lodge by a stream, surrounded by peaceful deer and mountains. Definitely not Eleanor’s scene, anything involving the wilderness or even resembling camping.
By the time Eleanor sees her off on a private car Derek conjured up, Michael’s goo already reached its first form. The blind, helpless demon larva showed no signs of awareness of his surroundings, curling up as small as possible, malleable as Tahani swaddled him in her fluffiest blanket. Eleanor was almost impressed at how quickly the sexy giraffe had overcome being grossed out at the slimy, squidgy creature, able to look almost maternal as she carried him into the car. And she made sure to say as much.
Tahani’s heavy hearted response would stick with Eleanor for the next few weeks; “I didn’t reassure him when he asked us if we could ever be friends with a gross monster. Best I can do is show him how much we truly care.”
Ouch. Way to kick her in the girl-nads.
“You sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’ve helped out in multiple animal sanctuaries and used to fly out to work with deprived children with my dear friend Angelina...But this is definitely new territory for me.” She’d said as she looked over the larva demon, making the tiniest cooing noise in his sleep (or what they assumed was sleep). “I’ll try my best.”
That was all any of them could do. She’d contemplated attempting to speak to the larva Michael in her arms. What could she possibly say? Could he even understand her?
She was still angry. And yet it was difficult to connect the anger towards the one who abandoned her to the pathetic looking being in the blanket. Best to save all those harsh words on the tip of her tongue for when he was back to being tall and slappable.
Is he really the one you want to slap?
The question comes back to haunt her more frequently each night that follows, whenever she thinks back on that night, or wonders how the two of them are doing. She and Tahani send letters often via the birds who are happy to act as messengers. They just have to be careful none of the humans intercept them. She lets her gorgeous friend know how the experiment is going and Tahani offers her tips on how to improve John, in particular. Every time she goes to write ‘how is Michael?’ she erases it, chest tightening. Tahani tells her anything important.
The slug monster form that follows the larva is a lot more challenging, she reports. He’s now the size of a Tibetan huskie and just as hungry.
I just let him roam the fields and eat what he can find. Sometimes I have to pull him in on a leash if he doesn’t tire himself out, otherwise I worry he’ll slither off in the night. I try to talk to him but he just grunts or roars at me until I tell him off. I was a little worried he might try to eat me but I found playing music - 80′s classics, mostly - calms him down and makes him rather docile. I don’t think he knows quite who I am or remembers anything. Perhaps it’s like when Janet is rebooted? He may need time to restore his memories, as she did.
Oh, darn, I must finish - he’s in the rose bush again!
Sometimes the image of her prim socialite friend trying to restrain a two-hundred-pound slug monster is so hilarious she can’t help but laugh. Other times she feels more guilt tugging at her soul to go lend a hand.
Is Michael really little more than an animal, in his head, right now? She’s hardly proved herself the best at pet care, though it sounded like Michael overeating was the least of their worries. It pained her to imagine what his head must be going through right now. Is he scared? Confused? Lost? Does he have any emotions other than the instinct to feed?
Does he still blame himself? Does he miss her as much as she...?
The more she sits in that chair in the office, the smaller she feels. It doesn’t belong to her; she’s merely filling it in while he’s gone. She has lunch in silence, remembering the jokes they used to share, the games of trying to aim food in the others mouth across the desk. She remembers him snapping a margarita for her when he knew she needed it most. She remembers his hand on her shoulder. She remembers him finding her at her lowest point, when everyone else had doubted her, turned their backs.
She remembers him, always there. And now she’s lost him.
Was wanting him gone over a stupid lie really worth all of this?
When Jason returns with Janet, on the same day she’s hesitating whether to jump on the nearest unicorn and head towards the mountains, she takes it as a sign. She has no excuse to stay away now - not with Janet back to watch over things, though she’ll probably be paying Michael a visit soon too.
She rides up on the train Janet conjures for her, saving her from trying to figure out how to ride a unicorn without breaking her neck. Something tells her she might have more luck at taming a slug monster than her British friend, not that she has any experience, just a few encounters with the grosser men in Arizona. Besides, it was Michael, at the end of the day. Their Michael.
The same Michael willing to sacrifice himself to help a bunch of cockroaches.
It’s such an idyllic landscape she arrives at. A total holiday card photo, without the snow. Nothing but grass and trees for miles before a backdrop of purple mountains. She looks around, seeing the evidence of devoured flower gardens and broken fences. At least the solid, oak cabin by the stream stood in tact, smoke billowing from the chimney.
Eleanor is so focused on keeping her eyes peeled for a rampaging slug monster that she almost fails to spot the little person sat on the front step of the veranda.
She frowns. That has to be the whitest child she’s ever laid eyes on. Granted most kids growing up in Phoenix were smothered in fake tan before they were three by their moms, but this is something else. The kid has long white hair, half-plaited, down to the shoulders of the cream dress she’s wearing. Her skin is so pale it’s nearly translucent. Fork, is she looking at an actual ghost?
Wait...She’s a ghost. That really shouldn’t freak her out.
There’s just something so eerie about the little girl, from her sickly appearance to how weirdly quiet she is for...However old she is. Six? Seven? Thirteen? Eleanor really knows nothing about kids, just that they’re usually much louder than this one, sat alone, playing with a set of shining...
Oh.
“Michael?”
The kid looks away from the chain of a paperclips they were linking, gazing up at Eleanor on the gravel path. As soon as she sees their eyes, she has her answer. Even without a pair of glasses, she’d recognise those sparkling blue eyes anywhere. It’s only then that she remembers the third form.
Spooky little girl.
Though far less spooky than she imagined. More...sad.
Despite her surprise, she tries to smile, not knowing how badly she needed to see those eyes look at her again after this past month.
“Hey, buddy. How’re you feeling?” She starts to approach.
The kid drops the paperclips and jumps up to their feet, beginning to tremble terribly, eyes wide as saucers.
Eleanor stops. Is he afraid? Of her?
“Michael? D’you remember me? It’s Eleanor, dude..”
“‘Hani!” The child cries turning and running inside the cabin. Fork, she knew was bad with kids, but shirt! Eleanor rushes in to follow, unable to hold back.
She enters the cosily furnished cabin to see the pale girl run up to the leg of the six foot beauty standing at the stove and cling to her skirt for dear life.
Tahani looks over from the pot of spaghetti, face fearful at first before lighting up when she spots her friend stood in the foyer.
“Eleanor! What a lovely surprise.” She beams, turning the stove off; “I’m so glad you decided to visit.”
“Wow...You’re kinda rocking the whole rustic single mom look here, babe.” Eleanor says, looking around the place, everything making her feel so warm and comforted from the open fireplace to the heavy air of recently baked bread.
Tahani looks down to her charge hanging onto her dress, reaching down to pick the little fingers off carefully.
“Well, it was rather nice to have a project to myself, and Derek was surprisingly helpful. Everything else I acquired myself, having learned to survive in the wild from a well known ‘Bear’ friend of mine.” She holds the kid’s hands and bends down to their eye level; “Michael, sweetheart, look who’s come to visit. Remember Eleanor?”
The demon child whimpers, throwing their arms around Tahani’s neck and hiding in her luscious dark hair.
Eleanor bites her lip; “He’s a lot more shy than the slug monster, I take it.”
“Oh, I don’t understand. They were fine with Jason this morning, they were playing video games for hours - he and Janet teleported over briefly to check in on us. So glad they got back safe.”
So Jason gets a teleport but she takes the train? The first time she’s not an immortal being’s favorite to spoil.
Eleanor shuffles her feet, trying not to feel wounded at how terrified her friend currently is of her, when apparently there was no issue with Jason. But then, Jason makes it difficult for anyone to dislike him. Eleanor makes it an open invitation.
The kid whispers something to Tahani that causes the woman to pick them up.
“Oh, darling, don’t be silly.” She responds, rubbing their back; “That was just a nightmare.”
“Nightmare?” Eleanor asks. Is she the stuff of nightmares?
Tahani eventually convinces the pale kid to go back outside to continue playing while she catches up with Eleanor.
Questions Tahani has about the experiment and the subjects get quickly brushed aside. Eleanor is unable to focus on anything but the image of Michael’s eyes looking at her with so much fear. When Tahani hands her a fresh cup of cofffee, she wants to stick her hand in it, just to scold herself for the sake of it.
“He’s having nightmares? I mean...she’s having...” Eleanor frowns.
“I find it easier to use ‘they/them’, which Michael seems to prefer as well, currently.” Tahani explains; “Most of the time, they’re a calm, affectionate child. Such a welcome change from the beast I was putting up with a fortnight ago, as much as they grew on me. It’s just at night, while their brain is still reforming and all these memories are flooding back...It can be rather distressing. Trust me, it’s heart-breaking just to see them crying and screaming...”
She can’t imagine that recalling centuries of brutally torturing innocents along with the knowledge of why that was wrong is easy for anyone, least of all in the form of a small girl, creepy or not.
“Honestly, the creepiest I’ve encountered so far is them levitating at the end of my bed - and that’s usually when they’re just looking for a cuddle.”
Eleanor smiles a little, Michael never was the best at being a truly ‘frightening’ demon.
“And I’m in these nightmares?”
Tahani sighs; “I suppose the memories of their last night are mixed up with everything else. They just...were worried you were here to say something mean or...you wanted them gone.”
Fork-sake.
“I never wanted this, Tahani. I never wanted him to...Shirt, I didn’t even think he could, but...” She struggles to hold back tears; “I shouldn’t have come. I’ve just made him...Them more upset. Fork knows what I’d be in for if I stayed for the Teenage Boy phase. He’d probably set my hair on fire as payback.”
Bratty Michael in his fully grown form had been enough to handle. A hormonal one with amnesia was a whole other level.
“Eleanor. Just go talk to them.” Tahani presses; “This whole distancing thing you two are doing to deal with your falling out is dangerous. You’re not going to fix anything by staying away from them. As I kept telling my good friend Courtney when she had a row with my other friends, Lisa and Jennifer - you just need to communicate!”
“Babe, they’re afraid to even be alone with me.” She’s the monster under the bed now. All because she took one sin he committed to heart and forgot about all the good he’d done for her that outweighed it.
“Then stay, there’s plenty of room. Even if it means we swap and you stay here and I return to help with the experiment. Either way, this needs to be sorted out. I don’t believe demons are supposed to be this upset during their growth...You could help with that.”
Can she? She’s not the nurturing type, like her hot friend. She melted her own doll in the microwave as a kid. And she unwittingly talked her own demon bestie into exploding himself.
Tahani’s hand squeezing her wrist gives her some strength.
“...Okay. I’ll try.” she meets her eyes; “Is Michael the only one allowed to snuggle in bed with you when they’re scared?”
Ten minutes later, she goes to find the creepy girl outside, this time sat among the flowers, being far more gentle with them than her previous slug form was.
Eleanor approaches slowly.
“Michael? Buddy?”
The kid gasps, standing up again and flinching back. Eleanor raises her palm.
“Please don’t run away. I promise I won’t hurt you...and I won’t be mad.” She says, soft as she can manage, getting down to the ground; “And I’m not gonna make you go away anywhere. I just wanna chat...That ok?”
Michael doesn’t look too convinced, glancing over at the cabin. Looking for the one constant they’ve had, who’s been here for them, caring for them. Where Eleanor should have been, at least sometimes.
Okay. Time for the trump card.
“I got you something. Tahani said you have trouble sleeping. I thought maybe this guy could help?” She produces the minion toy from behind her back.
Michael’s eyes sparkle and he instantly reaches out to take it.
“So ugly!” They cheer, hugging it to their front.
Eleanor chuckles. Still so easily impressed.
“Can’t argue there...Also, I picked up those paperclips of yours. Did you know you can do this with them?” She holds up the chain; “Gimmie your wrist a minute.”
Michael frowns, hiding behind the toy a little.
“I won’t bite, dude. Kids are way too gross to eat. You’re too stringy and bony.” She wrinkles her nose.
They blink at her before slowly holding out their wrist. Eleanor takes the paperclips and links them around Michael’s arm, forming a bracelet.
The child gasps, clearly thinking they’ve seen it for the first time; “Holy motherforking shirtballs.”
“Damn, you kiss Tahani with that mouth?” That must have been another residue memory tucked away.
Michael sneers; “Kissing is gross.”
“It’s pretty weird if you think about it, yeah.” She concedes, glad they’re at least talking, as much conversation as she can have with a billion year old immortal that’s lost their mind as they regrow in the body of a haunting little girl; “...What about hugs? You like them, right?”
The kid nods, eagerly.
“...Maybe I could have one, someday? If we can be friends? I’d like that...” More than they could know right now. More than anything else, even having Chidi remember her. This...This is just as painful, because she can’t be sure if this is fixable.
Eleanor crosses her legs as she sits, facing her friend.
“I’m so sorry, Michael. I know...you don’t understand that right now but...I’m sorry for why you’re scared of me...I wouldn’t ever wanna hurt you. Please believe me.”
Trust me? God, she’s such a hypocrite.
The kid eyes her, up and down, before turning to the flowers. They bend down, picking a few up into a small bouquet of daisies. Michael turns and hands it out to her.
“Oh...Uhh....Thanks...” Eleanor reaches for them.
Michael’s blue eyes flash red. The flowers burst into flames.
“Forking shirt!” Eleanor jumps.
And still the kid holds them out; “Pretty, right?”
A heartfelt laugh tumbles out of her; “...I can tell Jason’s been here.” Or maybe that was part of her friend’s demon nature. Either way, it was adorable. “Thank you, Michael.” she says, taking the flaming daisies. “You know...if you want, I could show you how to make chains out of these? We could make a crown for Tahani?”
“And ones for me and you?” Michael asks, hopeful.
Eleanor’s lip quivers, a sudden lump in her throat. She reaches out to run her palm over her friend’s white hair, soft as it’s always been; “Yeah...Me and you too, bud.”
#rose says she can't fix things#then immediately writes something to fix it#as weird as this is#like borderline crack fic#but still works within the canon#fluffy angst#hellstrop brotp fic#michael x tahani sistp#genderfluid michael#hints of future cottagecore teleanor? we'll see
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Doctor visits (and what purpose they serve)
Rating: T
Summery: Anji, Baiken and Eri visit the doctor for a perfectly routine check-up.
Faust grows very sick of two of them, for different reasons.
AN: Finally. FUCKING FINALLY I ON GOD FINISHED IT. THE FIRST ERI PIECE I DID IN A WHILE. AND ALSO A BAIKEN ANJI FIC. HECK YEAH. also first time writing Faust let’s hope I did okay. enjoy.
ALSO. 50TH STORY ON AO3. HECK YEAH. okay here you go.
Faust was sure nothing gave him as much trouble as giving children a physical. Not because of the children themselves, of course not. They were always nervous the first time, of course, but with a light dosage of silly faces and liberal application of cheap magic tricks, they always came around.
No, the children were never the problem, their parents on the other hand…
Whether they were nervous themselves, protective, or worst of all bored, they never failed to prove to be a headache during what was supposed to be a quick and easy check-up. And that was under normal circumstances.
And, as most things tended to be for Faust, today was in no way normal.
Firstly, the child. Forgetting any of her outstanding physical traits, Faust had seen many varieties of weird shit and a horn was comparatively mundane, she was quite unlike any child he had ever met before. She flinched and quaked at every metal object in his office, as if it was meant for her. She barely spoke a word since she sat on the medical bed, only mumbling her answers when he asked her questions about her health and diet.
She had signs of malnutrition (thin limbs, underweight, slightly pale skin), but they were clearly in remission for the past few months or so. She had faint signs of every form of child abuse he had ever had to deal with in his office, but all of them muted and in recovery, slow as it was.
And then, as he went on, she started to straighten her spine and look him in the eye…hole more directly. She still shook when he brought out his stethoscope, but it seemed controlled, somehow.
About half way through, he decided he’ll give her two lollipops, an extra brave girl deserved an extra reward.
…secondly the…well, he hesitated to say parent. If only because he had no idea how the person in question would react to the title. Baiken and Anji could never find their way to him quietly, it was always a big thing. He either had to stich up a life-threatening wound while Baiken cursed at him, or untie some mess Anji had somehow gotten himself into.
And now, they bring this interesting child into his practice. The bright red eyes made some very loud klaxons blare in his head, but every other thing about her gave him pause. She was dressed comfortably, in a ruby red kimono, and was hiding from him behind Baiken’s leg. Children being nervous around a stranger was normal, and Faust would readily admit that he was very strange indeed, but something about her posture and how tightly she had gripped the fabric, not to mention the hint of bandages peaking from her sleeves, made a different set of warning sirens sound off.
Anji kneeled down and patted the girl on the head, the gesture seeming to calm her, before he looked at Faust, “Doctor!” He cheerfully greeted, “so good to see you after such a long time!” He pointed towards the young girl like he was presenting something fantastic, “You see, me and Baiken had recently added a tiny companion to our merry little band,” he graciously ignored Baiken clicking her tongue, “and well, it just hit us the other day that we don’t know anything about her medical condition!” Anji stood up dramatically and puffed himself up for something no doubt very long winded, “so you see, we came here for a very important task! We need-“
“She needs a check-up,” Baiken had gruffly surmised, putting her hand on the child’s head, “you got a free slot today or what?”
Anji visibly deflated, one could almost hear the high pitched whine of rushing helium, before he cleared his throat, “uh, yes, that.” He shuffled his feet quietly while Baiken shook her head with a wry smirk and Eri looked between them, wide eyed and confused, “so…do you?”
As it so happened, he did, so now here he was, testing the little girl’s, Eri’s, reflexes while Baiken attempted to glare a hole in the side of his head, her sword clicking in and out of her scabbard with repeated flicks of her thumb.
“Better watch that hammer Doc,” the samurai growled lowly, narrowing her eye at him, “she makes a sound of pain and you stop feeling any,” teeth grinding against each other and an extra loud click, “permanently.”
The threat itself would have usually gone ignored. Faust was used to Baiken’s almost comical mistrust of medical professionals, he long figured that whatever cost her an arm and an eye soured her on the whole business and he could hardly begrudge her a bit of grumbling in light of that.
With Eri here, the threat seemed to hold significantly more weight. Every time he pulled some new device or tool she refused to let him anywhere near the girl until he told her exactly what it was and exactly what he intended to do with it to her. He had to repeatedly stamp down his frustration with her lack of knowledge, if she hadn’t made a habit of deliberately skipping physical checks, she would know nothing in this office could hurt a fly…well, unless it fell on the fly but that would be hardly fair to blame him on.
And honestly, it would have been heartwarming, if it didn’t make this check take up much, much longer then it needed to. That being said, he made a point of making as small an impact as he could on Eri’s knees, the legs kicking up lightly in response. “Very good dear.”
He got up and walked to his papers, sitting in a chair as he started writing down his newest data while pointedly ignoring Baiken continuing to glare at his back. As well as her reaching away from her sword to rub a single, slow circle on Eri’s back. A gesture that seemed to visibly and quickly calm the girl down.
For all the wonderful, odd things Faust had seen, the one thing he never imagined he’d see is someone that Baiken actually tried to comfort. Well, aside from the times Anji had brushed death’s door in his clinic and she held his hand while he recovered. But then again, that was an exception…and then again, Anji always seemed to be an exception when Baiken was concerned.
That is, apparently, until Eri showed up.
The dancer himself was waiting outside, no doubt yammering Fanny’s ear off, and the look he gave Faust as he handed over Eri and Baiken was…odd. There was something tense in Anji as he saw them off into the room, though that was quickly hidden as Faust decided to give Anji his full attention for a moment.
He pushed those thoughts aside to return to the matter at hand. He opened one last drawer, taking out a syringe. Considering how Eri reacted to everything else he pulled out…he almost feared her reaction to this more than Baiken’s. Almost.
Taking a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst, he turned around on his chair with the syringe in one hand, the other raising up in a gesture meant to calm, “alright dear we’re almost done.” Since his head was still attached to his neck, though Eri froze on the bed, he hazarded to keep going, “all I need to do is take a small blood-“
“No!”
Things happened very quickly after that, like dominos getting blasted by a leaf blower towards a very big and red button. Eri curled almost completely inwards on herself, shivering in panic and shuffling away.
Baiken looked at her in alarm, looked at him, looked at the needle, and then she glare-fast-deathSWORD!
Shink!
Through some miracle Faust did not dare to question, he somehow managed to pull out his clipboard and place it in the path of Baiken’s strike, and further, in a display of what could only be divine slapstick, the sword was stuck in the board instead of cleaving it clean in half and going on its merry way to do the same to his bag and face.
Though by the sounds of straining wood and low growls, along with the chair he sat in making some very distressing sounds of its own, that miracle wouldn’t last for long.
“Five seconds.” The samurai hissed while her arm quaked trying to continue its trajectory, ”explain the fucking needle.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, “blood tests!” He squeaked with no regard for his dignity, “need blood for blood tests! General health! Vaccinations! Any other minor health problem that can’t be determined with a non-invasive examination!” The explanation tumbled out of his mouth in a hurried panic, a flower bloomed at the top of his head, its petals wilting, as he smiled a rictus grin under his bag. “One point five milliliters! Tops! Promise!”
A few heart-attack inducing moments passed, and then Baiken finally, mercifully, retracted her sword. “Hmph.” She huffed tonelessly, before turning her head to the still shivering form of Eri on the medical bed.
Almost instantly, all the tension in Baiken’s shoulders vanished and she sighed. His head swirled in lingering panic trying to square this Baiken with the one he was used to, finding little success.
Turning his attention to the young girl, he finally gathered enough of his wits to feel very worried. “Oh dear…” He looked between Eri and Baiken, the latter stone like as she stared at the young girl, and raised his nearly sliced clipboard in her direction, “uh, should we call Anji or-“
“I’ll handle it.”
He felt like he got slapped by a fish, which was odd since May wasn’t due for a check-up for another week, “what?”
“I said I’ll handle it.” She repeated tiredly, sheathing her sword and walking towards Eri with an oddly calm stride. As she reached the bed, she carefully and slowly lifted her hand and touched Eri’s shoulder, the young girl flinching almost violently at the contact. “Hey, kiddo,” Baiken, undeterred by the reaction, whispered gently to the young girl. “Kiddo, it’s just me.”
The sheer difference compared to what was a person trying to rip him in half not a minute ago was nearly surreal, and he had never heard Baiken talk like that to anyone. And yet here she is, slowly rubbing circles on Eri’s shoulder with her thumb until the young girl took enough control of her hiccupping sobs to look up at her.
The relief Eri showed towards Baiken was even more surreal, he should probably check if he mistook his morning aspirin for something a bit more potent. “I-“ The halting voice of Eri knocked him out of his incredulity, the girl sniffing miserably. “I-I can’t…” Something dark and stomach-churning passed her expression, “It’s…it’s just like-“
“It isn’t.” Baiken declared quietly, her voice going tight, “The doc ain’t nothing like…” Her shoulders bunch up for a moment before relaxing again, “…he ain’t nothing like him Eri.” Baiken looks at him over her shoulder, still in his chair waiting to see if getting up would be worth the effort. “He’s a bit of a kook, but he’s good at his job…everything considered.”
Faust did his dignity a favor and choose to take that as a compliment.
“…I trust him.” Faust pushed down the minor elation at hearing that, Baiken was in the middle of something and a victory dance would probably undermine it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t Eri.” She then put her hand on Eri’s head, mussing up her ivory hair. “I promise.”
He had the slightest feeling he was intruding on something, so he elected to mess with the buttons on his jacket when Eri started to wipe her face. Part of him was happy that Baiken could find someone to be this gentle with. All that anger building up in her was a recipe for both misery and high blood pressure.
Another part of him, a part that remembered a small, motionless body on an operating table, couldn’t help but…worry. Baiken was strong enough to defend herself…but could she-?
“Doc.”
He nearly ripped a button when he fell off his chair in surprise, though he quickly caught himself and stood up to his full height, nearly hitting the ceiling light. “Ye-“ He cleared his throat mid-squawk. “Yes?”
“Get another needle,” She continued, sitting on the bed next to a now calm, but still sniffling, Eri. “Do me before you get to her.” She raised her scarred eyebrow at him. “I’m due for physical, ain’t I?”
It took him a moment to catch on, but soon he relaxed his posture and clapped his hands in realization, “as a matter of fact you are, now that I think of it!” He went back to the drawer to take out another syringe. He then sat on his chair again, backwards, and wheeled himself before his two patients. He pulled out a handkerchief for Eri out of one of his pockets before he went on cheerfully, “And a lucky thing that you are Baiken, because this affords me to explain to Eri exactly what I need to do.”
He looked at Eri, another flower, healthier than the last one, blooming on his head as he leaned slightly towards her, “would you like that Eri? I promise it’s very interesting.”
Eri stared at him for a moment, her eyes lingering on the flower, before she sniffed one last time and wiped her face, nodding quietly.
“Wonderful!” He exclaimed, taking out a cotton swab and soaking it with rubbing alcohol, “first things first, we need to clean and sterilize the area where I intend to put the needle.” He wiggled his fingers rapidly and waved his head back and forth, “there’s all sorts of creepy crawly germs on your skin, and they have no business getting into your body, so we need to make sure they aren’t anywhere near the needle.”
Eri, to his eternal relief, actually giggled a little, her lips lifting up slightly in not-quite-a-smile. She watched him rub the swab on the crook of Baiken’s elbow, “why there?”
“Excellent question my dear!” Faust praised with a raised finger, before pointing to the blue vein in the crook, “you see, this vein is in an easy to access location, and is almost flush with the skin, so there’s no danger of putting the needle through anything important.” He then took the needle and began piercing Baiken’s skin. “And now…”
Eri watched him pull back on the back of the syringe, the tube filling with blood for a moment before he took it out and placed the swab on it.
Baiken, naturally, never made a sound or even twitched during the whole process. Didn’t so much as breath in to brace for it. If Faust hadn’t just finished extracting blood, and knew Baiken well enough, he would have been very concerned. Well, more concerned about her than he usually was at any rate.
“There! Now we just tape it down to stop the bleeding,” saying so he took out a length of clear tape out of another pocket and used it to hold the cotton swab in place. “And voila!” He stood on his feet and took a dramatic bow, “all finished.”
Eri’s eyes shone with admiration, getting caught up in Faust’s performance and clapping excitedly for him. He showed his gratitude for her applause with the required grace, taking another two bows. Baiken scoffed quietly but didn’t interrupt, Faust knew her well enough not to be offended by the fact she didn’t clap.
“Alright then.” Faust said finally, sitting back down on the chair and taking out the second syringe, “now for your turn dear.” He looked at her arms, covered from wrist to armpit in bandages, freshly changed even, and made an effort to not be obvious as he braced for what he would see underneath, “if you would please?”
He tried to make the request as gentle as possible, but still Eri’s mouth pressed into a thin line, her hands freezing mid-clap before grabbing her forearms tightly. She looked at him for a long moment, before looking aside at Baiken. The samurai smirked, the expression strangely warm, and nodded briefly.
Taking a breath to steady herself, Eri began to unravel her bandages with a determined look on her face.
What Faust saw underneath them made his skin crawl and his blood boil. The cruelty was evident on every scar, but what really got stuck in his craw was the precision. Whoever made those marks on Eri had a hand as steady as a rock, not a single mark of hesitation or second guessing. Such precision was born of either practice, or innate talent, and he wasn’t sure which option made him more sick to his stomach.
(He felt more than a little hypocritical, but if there was one thing he and Bald-the good doctor agreed on, was that such marks should never appear on children.)
“Doctor?” The small voice nearly made him gag from the memories it brought up, but he managed to take back control of himself quick enough for his vision to coalesce enough to see Eri looking up at him in concern, “are you okay? You were quiet for a long time…”
He opened his mouth before he closed it, his mind drawing a blank. He looked aside at Baiken, who raised an eyebrow at him, her look half dubious and half worried herself.
“I’m fine dear.” He finally managed, waving away her worry, “I just remembered something, don’t worry about it, alright?” He waited for her to nod, before returning it more energetically, “wonderful, so, back to business.”
The swab, “it’s a bit cold and might tickle a bit, okay?”
A quick, halting nod. Followed by a quick burst of laughter.
“Pump your fist a bit dear?”
Biting her tongue, she made an adorable effort of making and opening a fist. The way she did it made it clear that she never had to fight anyone, which made the strain in his chest unclench a bit.
“Right…” The needle in his hand began moving, “brace yourself dear…”
Despite the courage she showed before, some of it crumbled in the face of the sharp point so close to her flesh. There was no uncertainty in her eyes, she knew exactly how the needle would feel.
Faust breathed through his nose and counted to five.
Almost as if by instinct, Eri buried her face in Baiken’s nearby shoulder, her free hand grabbing on to the fabric much like she did when she first showed up. But her other arm stayed where it was, she didn’t try to pull it away or hide it from the doctor, she simply did as he instructed and braced herself.
Three. He’ll give her three lollipops.
He grabbed hold of her offered arm by the wrist, and brought the needle close to her vein, “deep breath,” Eri did as he said, and the second she finished taking in air he finally sticks the needle in. The girl flinches, but only digs her face deeper into Baiken’s shoulder with a restrained whine.
He takes out one point five milliliters, Baiken’s eye welded to the tiny measurement lines, and takes the needle out. “Almost done.” With professional efficiency, he stops the bleeding with a cotton ball, before covering it with a Band-Aid.
A pink one, with a picture of a unicorn on it.
“…really doc?” Baiken is half-way to smirking, but the tone of her voice makes it look like a grimace, “what, you got a stash of those?”
“Of all the things I do, this is what draws you up short?” He asks innocently, gesturing at himself. “Besides, I thought it would be appropriate.” Baiken opened her mouth before closing it and making a yeah good point shrug, Faust then turned to his patient, “now Eri, how are you feeling?” He tapped her wrist lightly, the Band-Aid smiling up at her as she looked at it, “any pain? Itching? Discomfort?”
The girl shook her head, “N-No, I’m okay.” She takes one last, lingering look at the unicorn, her lips twitching upwards for a moment, before picking up her bandages to re-wrap her forearms with practiced ease, and then looking at the doctor with a bit of apprehension, “i-is there anything else?”
“Oh no,” The doctor waved off, standing up from his chair with a clap of his hands, “we’re all done for today, and you were very brave.” He leaned down to her eye-level, “and do you know what you get for being very brave?”
Eri looked at him doubtfully, before shaking her head.
Without a word, Faust pulled out three red, plastic covered lollipops, and handed them over to the wide-eyed girl, “a well-deserved reward, that’s what.”
“Damn straight,” Baiken agreed, patting the little girl on the back with a toothy grin, “good job kid, you’ve earned it.” Then her face did something that nearly made Faust’s eye twitch, it went stern, “just don’t eat ‘em all right way yeah? There’s gonna be dinner soon.”
Upon hearing Baiken, of all people, say something that stereotypically parental, Faust could feel his patience for the universe at large rapidly approaching its limit. He took Eri down from the bed and began ushering the two of them out of his office. “Alright, then let’s leave, we’ve kept Anji waiting for long enough.”
Eri unwrapped one of her rewards, stashing the other two in the clothing folds on her chest, and popped it into her mouth as they walked. Baiken looked down at her with an oddly soft expression that left her face as soon as they caught sight of Anji and Fanny.
The dancer was engaged in what seemed like a very exciting and very one sided conversation, the nurse smiling politely at him with all the energy of someone who has been on the rack all damn day and just wants his executioner to get a move on already. If Anji noticed, and he almost certainly did, he made a great show of not being bothered by it.
His focus shifted instantly when Eri and Baiken came close enough, Anji’s smile lighting up his face as he walked towards them, “Eri! So good to see you again!” He kneeled down to meet her gaze properly, “and I see you’ve a reward as well!” He put his hand on her head and warmly ruffled her hair, smile reaching his eyes, “good job dear.”
Faust found this sight slightly easier to stomach, Anji had always been the more emotionally open of the duo. But still, to see those two this attached to this little girl…something about it boded ill, and he wasn’t sure why.
“Shorry it took sho long…” Eri twiddled her thumbs with the lollipop still in her mouth, “it was kinda shcary…”
“Oh don’t worry about it sweetheart.” Anji waved off with a chuckle, “I had some very pleasant company to pass the time with.” He turned around to smile at Fanny, “isn’t that right, miss nurse?”
“Oh yes Mr. Mito.” Fanny nodded cheerfully while writing something on a nearby clipboard, “it was a very engaging conversation.” Anji nodded back, but as soon as he turned his head to look back at Eri, the nurse lifted the clipboard to show what she wrote, the polite smile unmoving on her face.
It read, in very fancy but firm writing: “Never leave me alone with him again. Ever.” The word “ever” was underlined. Four times. With a separate, red marker.
Faust mentally penciled tomorrow off for Fanny, she’s earned her own little “lollipop”, so to speak. “I’m happy you were patient with us Mr. Mito,” He began, before he sighed, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to wait a bit longer.”
Eri simply blinked at him innocently still busy with her treat, while Baiken and Anji snapped their gazes to him in unison, like a pair of hawks on a hunt, shoulders tense and eyes sharp.
“Nothing serious!” He was quick to assure, the two relaxing only slightly, “It’s simply that Ms. Baiken reminded she is well past due her own checkup.” He turned to Baiken with a smile under his mask that was perfectly professional, “isn’t that right, miss Baiken?”
The samurai’s stare quickly morphed into something that screamed me and my big mouth before she bared her teeth and shook her head, “you know you ain’t going anywhere near me, yeah?”
“I am fully aware yes.” Faust nodded diplomatically, “but the fact remains that you do need a check-up, so I am offering a compromise,” he gestures towards his ever-loyal nurse, “I think that you will find Nurse Fanny to be entirely professional, and as a female physician she would know better what you would find uncomfortable or not.” He clears his throat. “Better than me, at any rate.”
Baiken looked at Fanny, who had jumped to attention with a slightly overeager smile on her face at being called to action, a bit dubiously, but before she could voice her misgivings, Anji jumped in with a hand on her shoulder, “excellent idea doctor!” He squeezed her shoulder with a smile that was only slightly sharp at the edges, “if we’re here and worried about our health, why not make the most of the visit?”
Baiken shoved her elbow into her partner’s stomach with a scowl, “I don’t need-“
“After all,” Anji continued smoothly, with one arm rubbing where the elbow had impacted while he smiled a bit more sharply, “since we put Eri through this rigmarole, why shouldn’t we do the same?” Anji leaned a bit more into Baiken’s space, and while the dancer while still smiling Faust was certain the samurai began to sweat a little, “all in the interest of health, of course.”
After a moment of heated glaring, Baiken visibly sagged with a sigh, “fine, whatever.” She leaned out of Anji’s grasp, the dancer letting her go easily, and turned to Fanny, “alright nurse, let’s get this over with yeah? I got other shit to-“ A tug at her kimono stopped her, and she looked down to see Eri grasping the white cloth with a worried look on her face, “…don’t worry kiddo.” She mussed Eri’s hair a bit, “I’m just making noise, I’ll be back out before-“
“Can I come with you?” Eri interjected quickly, as if saying it any slower would drain her courage, “I-I mean, I was scared at the doctor’s, s-so, I want to be there with you too.” She worried the white cloth in her hands and looked down at her feet, “y-you know, i-if you get scared.”
The idea of Baiken being afraid of something as mundane as a checkup, for all of her bluster, was just this side of ludicrous, but Faust managed to hold on to his laughter long enough for Baiken to sigh quietly again, much softer this time, turning to Fanny with a light smirk, “is it okay if I bring a guest?”
Fanny smiled warmly as she opened the door to the examination room, “of course! Little Eri won’t be a bother at all, please!” She motioned for the two to come in, “let’s get started, shall we?”
Baiken scoffed, “ya hear that kid? You’re my backup.” She smiled with her teeth at the little girl, who nodded excitedly at the gesture instead of cowering in fear as most would in response to one of Baiken’s smiles, and started following her guardian as they entered the room.
Anji spoke up, “maybe I can-“
“You stay here,” Baiken stabbed at him irritably, “your bull earned you an extra half hour of boredom, now sit.” She glared him down into the nearest plastic chair, and turned back to the room…before sparing her nurse one last doubtful look, “…you don’t still have that huge-ass needle, right?”
“Oh don’t worry miss Baiken!” Fanny reassured as she began to close the door, “I only use that for emergencies.”
The last thing of Baiken to be seen before the doors closed is her face morphing into the very picture of deep concern.
And thus, the two men were left to themselves. Anji went to a nearby chair, sat on it very slowly and deliberately, and turned to Faust with a very thin smile, “you have the look of a man with a lot on his mind, doctor.” Anji’s smile grow wider but stayed as thin as paper as he patted the pale yellow plastic chair to his left in invitation, “how about you have a seat and you can unload all of those worries to your old friend Anji, eh?”
Anji Mito was certainly very friendly, of that Faust would gladly attest, but his friend? That was stretching it a bit, “I’ll stand, Mr. Mito, thank you.” He took out the vial of blood he took from Eri out of his pocket and moved it in his palm for a moment, “and yes, I have a great number of worries to bring to your attention.”
Anji stared at him for a moment, before something in his eyes shifted and changed, the angle of his gaze sharper than it was a moment ago. Wordlessly, he motioned for Faust to begin, his smile painted on.
Faust knew subtlety would be a waste of time, so he went straight to it. “She’s a Gear.” Not a question, but simply a statement of fact. He looked down at the vial, the color in it shifting in the florescent light of his practice in ways that normal blood simply did not. “Is That Man involved in this?”
“Ha!” Anji barked out harshly, clapping his hands once, “well, aren’t we perceptive! Good catch doctor!” His smile opened up and showed a few teeth, “did the red eyes and horn give it away?”
Faust clenched his free hand but kept his calm, “answer the question Mr. Mito.”
Anji was quiet for a moment, before his smile shrunk slightly and he shook his head, “no, I’m intimately familiar with his work. Trust me, Asuka had nothing to do with this.” He laughed a little nervously, “if he did, we’d be on the run from Mr. Badguy right now.”
Faust sighed, conceding the point, “fair enough.” He moved to his desk to shuffle a few of the notes he’s made about Eri during her check-up. “What information do you have about where she came from?”
“Next to nothing.” Anji answered almost too cheerfully, “the circumstances of us meeting Eri sort of…put a damper on any effort to find out about her past.” He coughed into his palm, “it was part of the reason I brought her to you doctor.” A smile as sweet as arsenic stretched his face, “would it be too much trouble to ask you to send that blood sample to Illyria?”
Faust rubbed his forehead over his paper back with a weary sigh, “I’ll try to get it to Paradox directly.” He was beginning to understand Baiken’s short temper more and more, “…regarding those circumstances…” Anji’s smile slipped right off, “…I’m guessing she came into your company from…the person who gave her those scars?”
Anji blinked at the doctor for a moment, and then smiled again, this time a bit more honestly, “yes, those would be the broad strokes.” He laughed a bit coldly, something in his eyes far away, “I’d rather keep the bloody details to myself, if you wouldn’t mind.” He looked at Faust from the corner of his eye, tone reassuring, “purely for your own safety of course, plausible deniability and all that.”
Faust grit his teeth, but decided to let that particular battle die in favor of more pressing concerns, “how long have you been traveling with Eri?”
Anji straightened his posture and nodded briefly, “six months.”
“Ah, how taller has she grown in that time?”
“Not an inch.”
Faust nearly fell backwards from shock. Of all the things Gears were known for, rapid maturation and growth was foremost of them. Yet Eri looked no older than 7 years of age. “…stunted growth?” He muttered in disbelief, cold sweat on his brow. “In a Gear?”
“Another reason to come to you, specifically.” Anji answered plainly, his smile going flat and his gaze burning a hole in the wall in front of him. “I’m no medical expert, but something tells me those scars might have something to do with it.”
Faust gripped his table nearly hard enough to dent the metal, only barely keeping a grip on his control with a few deep breathes and a glass of water. Anji politely looking away just long enough for Faust to pull his mask up to drink.
After a moment, Faust walked towards Anji and finally took the seat he was offered next to him, sitting down heavily with his head in his hands and his knees drawn up to his ears.
Anji waited without a word, his eyes glued to the door his two girls had vanished behind, but Faust could still feel his gaze, somehow, boring a hole into him as well. Faust shook his head again and straightened up, looking down at Anji, “there was another wound, on her shoulder.” Faust stopped for a reaction, but only got a raised eyebrow, “it was fresher than the rest, what happened?”
“Why didn’t you ask Baiken?”
“It was a closed, clean wound, it was not my place to ask unprompted questions of my patients.” Faust explained tensely, “And I didn’t want to upset Eri besides,” that earned him an agreeing hum from Anji at last, “how did it happen?”
“A few opportunistic young men thought it a good way to earn a lot of money in a very short amount of time by throwing themselves at Baiken and myself,” Anji shrugged, though he stiffly looked away as he did, “…poor Eri got caught in the middle.”
“Assassins.” Faust bit out between his teeth, “Eri got caught in the middle of a fight you had with assassins.”
“She was kept safe the whole time.” Anji tossed straight back, finally meeting the doctor’s gaze again. “It ended well, like it always does, doctor.”
“You and I both know that’s a load of nonsense, Mr. Mito.” Anji’s eyebrows knitted together and his lips drew into a thin line. “Does Eri know how to defend herself?”
Anji laughed, utterly mirthless, “have you seen her? You want us to teach that girl how to fight?”
“Are you and Baiken going to change your lifestyle?” Faust forged on, his nerves on edge, flashes of a bloody surgical table and a horribly small body bag on his mind, “if not, are you simply going to continue to expose Eri to all this danger? Do you take her out on bounty hunting missions with you?” He nearly pressed his face to Anji, who simply stared at him stone faced, “that girl is completely dependent on you two, have you any concern for her safety?”
“Doctor.”
Anji Mito vanished.
In his place was a man with his face, but not his eyes. They were the same color and shape, but they suddenly threatened to swallow Faust whole with the sheer emptiness he saw there.
There was a hand on the collar of his shirt, pulling him along as the man that was not Anji Mito stood up from his chair. Not a trace of the flighty dancer remained, and in his place was the man that spent a significant period of his life hiding in shadows and whispers.
He spoke, and there was the hint of dried blood on his tongue as he did, “as you said, that girl is dependent on the two of us,” the man narrowed his cold, empty eyes, “be certain, we know that very well, knew it from the moment she came into our care.” The hand on his collar tightened its grip, “make no mistake, every effort we’ve made since then had been to ensure that she is safe, that she is happy.”
Finally, something filled those abyssal eyes, anger.
“That girl is everything we could have been, that girl has a future not yet stained with blood and secrets, eyes not yet worn and hollow, and I intend to make sure it stays that way.” He bared his teeth, and Faust felt like he was facing a dangerous animal, “so don’t you dare think for a moment that either of us would treat her callously.”
Finally, impossibly, Faust found his tongue, “you think you can protect her from everything?” He gripped the hand clenching his collar, “with the life you lead? Are you that delusional?”
“With all due respect,” the animal growled, something vicious and cruel crawling up his throat, “you are not the first person I’d ask regarding the safety of children,” his heart leapt into his throat, but the man kept going, “you are hardly the expert there, Doctor Baldhead.”
It took every inch of restraint he had, but somehow Faust kept from pulling a scalpel from his pocket to slice open the throat in front of him.
His point apparently made, the man that was not Anji Mito released Faust, and sat back down without a word to look at the door again. A few breathless moments passed as Faust looked down at him and got his breathing back under control, finally letting out a sigh, “…I will admit, my judgement is clouded from…past experiences,” he shook his head, “…but I stand by what I said, you can’t protect her forever.”
Another heavy moment passed, nearly crushing the both of them…before Anji Mito returned with a weightless laugh, “no, I suppose not.” He looked up at the doctor, a mirthless smirk on his face, “but we can protect her long enough to make a path for her to follow.”
Faust looked down at the man for a moment, shaking his head before beginning to walk to his desk, “what path would that be?” He reached his desk, and turned around to lean on it to look at Anji, “because from where I sit, there’s two.” He held up one finger, “one; she stays be your side, which means you need to teach her all she needs to know to be able to keep pace with you two.” He grits his teeth, “and all the bloody details that would include.”
Anji met Faust’s gaze evenly, but his hands gripped the cloth of his lap.
“And second,” he held up the second finger, “…is that you let her go, put her somewhere safe, where she would never need to raise a hand to harm anyone, that she would never need to protect herself again…” He stopped, something finally clicking to place, “…and never see you two again.”
On Anji Mito’s nearly inscrutable face, something like sadness passed for a brief moment. It was gone as soon as it appeared, and another paper smile took its place, “whatever path she’ll have, it will have to be her choice, wouldn’t you agree, doctor?” Another mirthless chuckle, “from what little I know of her life before we found her…she’s had enough of her life dictated for her, methinks.”
Faust sympathized with his nurse, because after that relatively short conversation with Anji Mito, he felt ready to curl into a ball and sleep the rest of the week away. He could have let that conversation end there, let himself end the day with at least a bit of sound mind, but something was eating at him, a question he knew he had no right to ask. That was utterly unprofessional of him to even consider asking.
But, then again, he’s been plenty unprofessional today, what’s a bit more?
Taking a breath to brace, he once more dunked his head into the shark tank that was Anji Mito’s headspace. “The person who gave Eri those scars…” He started, his grip on the table tightening, “…do you know anything about them?”
“Oh? Him?” Anji asked innocently, as if he hadn’t given that a thought in ages, “ah, I wouldn’t worry too much doctor.” The way he said that, and the smile it came with, only made Faust worry more, “last I saw of him, he was laying on a street somewhere, bleeding out of a hole between his eyes.”
Faust blinked at Anji, whatever tension and anger he gain from examining Eri deflating like a particularly sad whoopee cushion.
“I’d put him out of your head, doctor.” He turned to him with a smile as bright as a flickering florescent bulb, a hint of that emptiness back in his gaze, “I know I did.”
Before Faust could question-no, scratch that-call bullshit on that, the door to the examination room opened, revealing a slightly annoyed Baiken, a satisfied Fanny, and Eri still sucking on her lollipop.
“There they are!” Anji exclaimed, his cheer back on his face in full force, and Faust could even believe it was genuine this time, as he went to Baiken and Eri, “so! How did it go? Any sharp or metal things go into anywhere unpleasant?” He was rewarded with a smack upside the head from a very unamused Baiken, which only got a laugh out of him, “sorry, sorry, I couldn’t…” He stopped of a sudden, looking at Baiken’s face in confusion, and Faust took a second to see he was looking at Baiken’s mouth.
Or, more specifically, the small plastic stick hanging out of her mouth.
Anji blinked at her, “…what-?”
Baiken grabbed the stick, and pulled out a bright red lollipop.
“…how?”
“Eri gave it to me.” Baiken said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “said I earned it for being…” her mouth twitched to stop from becoming a smile, “…brave.”
Anji blinked in surprise, first at Baiken, and then at Eri, who nodded resolutely to show she was perfectly serious. After a moment, a smile slowly forming on his face, too slowly to be a conscious effort, and Anji laughed with more warmth than Faust had heard from him all day, “well! Can’t argue with that!” He bent down to look, and smile, at Eri at eye level. “Good call there Eri.”
The blinked before looking down with a bright blush. Baiken ruffled her hair while Anji grasped her shoulder.
And Faust understood the anger completely. Understood the insult of doubting these two.
But still, with a clear mind, he, as always, stood be his prognosis.
“Mr. Mito.” He called out, the man still leaning down as he turned to look at him, “I would like you to keep our conversation today in mind, alright?”
Anji, to his credit, only glared for a short second before he nodded, “of course, doctor.”
“Huh?” Eri looked between the two, “what did you talk about?”
“My own check up dear.” Anji lied smoothly as silk, “I set it a few months from now since I had one not too long ago,” he ruffled her hair again, “don’t worry about it.”
“…Okay.” Something shone in the girl’s eyes, but she went back to her treat with a quiet hum.
Anji stood up, met Baiken’s razor sharp gaze, and mouthed “later” silently before he turned to the doctor, “well! I think we’re all done for today!” He put a hand on Baiken’s shoulder to turn her towards the door, “say goodbye to the doctor Eri.”
Turning to Faust and Fanny, she waved goodbye in a way that made the doctor want to cry, before running to Baiken left side to grab her hand as they left.
Anji and Faust shared one last, slightly loaded stare before they stepped out the door.
(Faust closed his practice earlier than usual that day. Fanny didn’t question it, or the way he fingered the bottom of his paper bag, or how stiff and deep his voice had gotten near the end of the day.
She helped him take his medicine, and he went to bed, images of not-himself standing above a perfectly clean surgery table, waiting for his next, his last, patient swirling in his mind as he slept.
Baiken slapped Anji upside the head. She didn’t know why, exactly, she just had the feeling he had earned it.
Anji didn’t argue with that.
Eri offered him her last lollipop, but he refused, he hadn’t been brave for a long while. He wanted to earn it properly.)
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