#if you aren't normal about blood and guts in the same way I'm not-- then this will be the video for you! :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-brant · 3 years

Text

The Endless Summer (2/?)

(gif: @beccs) (PART ONE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: A day out on the water goes awry and puts JJ, John B, and Y/N in danger. With tensions rising and the stakes higher than ever, JJ finds it difficult to control his feelings.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, graphic violence, and JJ being an emotionally confused asshat.

A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for the love on this series, I’m so glad you guys like it and I hope this part is just as good. Things get a little heated in this chapter, so buckle up. Let me know if you enjoyed this. Have fun!

JJ isn't sure why she did it.

He wasn't sure then and he isn't sure now, but he knows one thing for certain: there isn't any going back to how things once were now that the barrier between them came crashing down.

Sweat drips off of his skin from the relentless heat of the Caribbean that has made their recent lives hell with the painful tinge of sunburn atop their tans and heat exhaustion they must be careful to avoid at all costs. They were educated on both topics by Pope, their godsend of a survival encyclopedia in human form, who advised them to spend most of their day outside of necessary tasks like fishing and constructing stable shelter under the shady cover of the treetops.

The sole reason he and John B aren't hiding in the safety of the shade is that it's their day to fish, but he's not thinking about the sun. In fact, neither of them is. They're both wondering where their third fishing buddy is.

It took roughly ten minutes of spearfishing with him in comfortable silence for JJ to finally break and spill his guts about what happened last night. Though there was an unspoken agreement to never tell anyone that their hatred has turned into desire, he couldn't help it. He was going mad trying to unravel it in his head.

After all, he already had a conversation with JB about the recent shift in their behavior with each other by the ocean last night, so it seems fitting to pick up where they left off with the calm and clear blue water in front of them again.

He walks on the jagged outcropping of rock that serves as their perch to observe the fish without disturbing the pattern of the current they swim through with John B closely behind.

"One second she's pissed at me, the next she's all over me. It makes no sense. Then, she didn’t say anything to me after it happened," JJ says with his face hardened into a look of concentration at the fish he squints against the sun to aim at, "Not even "Fuck you, Maybank" or one of her weirdly creative threats. She just sat there all night and talked to everyone but me."

His gaze slips away from the water as his chosen fish disappears from sight before he can bother to throw the spear, eyeing up his friend's reaction to the news.

John B doesn't seem that surprised by it, because who else, aside from everyone else in Kildare who knows of their "hatred" for one another, could've seen it coming as much as he did? He considers it for a second, then props his arm up on the handle side of the spear he digs into the rock to lean against.

"I'm pretty sure that means she likes you."

JJ retorts, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

Why would anyone ignore a person they like? It makes no sense to him. Every time he wanted a person, he'd simply walk over and make it happen. It's never been difficult for him to pursue the people he finds himself attracted to...Well, except for her. For a guy that also ignored her for the rest of the night and pretended their moment in the woods didn't happen, he has some balls of steel to be chastising her for the same things he did.

John B shrugs and says, "I'm being serious, dude. Sarah wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I worked on the Druthers, and I thought it was some stuck-up rich person thing but it wasn't."

They shouldn't be talking at all right now as to not scare away the fish, but they do it anyway. They both know he won't let it go until it's out of his system for good. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it if he wanted to, so its better to talk it out than turn stir crazy from ruminating over it 24/7.

Though it's, as he worded it yesterday, hot as balls out, being by the sea lessens the feeling of it by a landslide.

The breeze they crave whenever they work on their huts or forage through the forest for wild berries, coconuts, or potential building supplies blows on them without pause for the time they spend here, which almost makes it more dangerous. They stand under the direct harm of the UV rays frying them without truly feeling it burn yet, and he dreads the next few days in anticipation of the returning sunburn he just peeled off of his shoulders the other day.

JJ walks down the side to get a better view of the water, balancing precariously on the sharpened edge with the spear clenched tightly in one hand. The breeze is strong enough to threaten his balance, but he holds firm and digs his toes into the sedimentary rock for traction. His body sways in the midday sun with the struggle for stability, or, at least he suspects its midday.

Since being stranded here, time is a foreign concept to them. With no phones, clocks, or any guide to go off of other that the position of the sun above to display the hours that pass, they've lost complete track of what day it is, let alone how long minutes or hours truly are in comparison to the endless summer they live within. They suspect it's been a month since they were left here, but, in all honesty, it could be two. None of them had the sense to mark the days in a tally until it was too late.

He says, lifting his arm to throw the spear, "Well, she is a stuck up rich person, so maybe it's just—"

"You know I'm right here, don't you?"

The sound of her voice from a few feet behind them startles JJ into turning around to look at her right when he lets go of the spear.

Unfortunately for him, the jerking movement throws off his carefully distributed weight and skews his balance, making the feet placed on the edge slip from underneath him and send him slipping down into the water. His calf is the first body part to hit the rocks, and the groan of pain he lets out at the feeling of the jagged rock slicing through his skin could make her heart stop mid-beat. But what truly scares her is seeing the back of his head hit the ground too.

Before he can slide the rest of the way into the water, two pairs of hands are grabbing onto his arms and heaving him up with all of their strength. She and John B grit their teeth with the effort it takes to pull him back up, their muscles burning from the strain, and once his feet are over the ledge, he pushes off the rock to help them the rest of the way. Drops of his blood disperse into the water off the edge from where he cut himself, dripping until there's hardly any left.

Once he's safely laid back down a few feet from where he slipped, Y/N is kneeling in front of him in a matter of seconds. The rock beneath her knees opens small cuts into her skin, but she doesn't pay it any heed. She sits on her heels to lessen the minor pain and lean forward to inspect the damage he took with nothing on her mind other than worry.

Soon enough, John B joins her to kneel at his feet as he sits up and watches them eye up his injury as though it’s some sort of ghastly, life threatening thing instead of a gash that won't need stitches. He watches them against the glittering ocean, waves washing up on the rocks around them to sting his wound with saltwater.

"It's a scratch, not an amputation," JJ says.

She ignores him with a frown lining her pretty features and twists his leg by the ankle to get a better view of the wound in the sunlight. It extends up the entire length of his calf, almost from ankle to knee, and dribbles fresh blood onto her hands as well as the ground beneath them. From what he can tell, it doesn't look all too severe. No muscle or bone can be seen, so it's a simple, superficial scratch.

When he doesn't get a response from either her or John B while they're too busy checking out his leg, he says again, "Guys, I'm serious, it's fine."

This time, she doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Yeah, well you may not need stitches but you still have infection to worry about. This wilderness isn't exactly the cleanliest place," she says retorts with as much snark as usual, and he quietly rejoices in the fact that she's finally acting normal after what happened last night, "Not to mention, you hit your head pretty hard. There's no need to act all tough."

He shrugs.

"It's not an act, it really doesn't hurt that bad."

John B stands and smears the blood on his hands off on the front of his shorts.

"I'll be right back, guys, I'm gonna go get stuff to patch him up."

Just like that, they are left plunging into silence as he is running away down the peninsula back to the beach they've claimed as their own.

Silence has always been her least favorite thing to share with JJ. She'd rather anything over it—screaming, fighting, joking, friendly conversation, or even what they did together yesterday night. Anything is preferable over the tense and insufferable feeling of silence when they're alone together with none of their friends, or their playful hatred, between them as a barrier between them.

Instead of seeing the same pestering jerk she always used to when she looks at him, she sees the memory of how he looked at her in the woods. He didn't look at her like she was the worst person to ever walk the planet, or like she was his least favorite Kook "Princess", he looked at her like she meant something to him.

They sit together in uncomfortable silence in the time it takes John B to rush to the beach and back, careful not to slip on the rocks the way JJ did, with the supplies from the dinghy in his arms. It isn't much to work with, but at least it's something to keep the nasty wound on his leg protected from dirt and germs. She's sure he'd leave it uncovered and up to fate if he had it his way.

Before he can set them down on the wet rocks, thus ruining the gauze and bandages in craters filled with ocean water, she gestures at JJ with a stern command, "Take off your shirt."

His brows raise.

"Shit, Princess, take me out to dinner first."

She groans in frustration, "Can you be quiet for a second and actually listen to me for once?"

He catches John B's gaze with wide eyes, but complies nonetheless, reaching down to tug the tank off of his torso by the frayed hem until it's balled up in his closed fist to hand off to her. Her eyes only linger on his body for a quick second on accident before snatching it from him.

Her bloodstained palms lay the shirt out on the flattest stretch of rock she can find to act as a barrier from the small puddles of water to protect the supplies. One nod at John B has him setting them down atop the navy fabric as she glances up at JJ with a smug smile.

"Believe it or not," she taunts, unscrewing the cap to the disinfectant, "I didn't ask for it so you could sit there and look pretty."

The words throw him back in time to their conversation on the beach while they thatched the roof to their hut, and he wonders how long she's been waiting to throw that back in his face since he first said it.

He grins at her as he asks, "You think I'm pretty?" but before he can say more, she's pouring a generous amount of the hydrogen peroxide along the length of his cut without a warning for him to prepare himself. His leg jerks away on instinct to save himself from the burning sensation, but she grips his ankle tightly enough to force him to stay still.

His nose scrunches up with the urge to groan in pain, and he does a little. Through grinding teeth, he winces in response to the peroxide slipping into every cell of open skin and bubbling up like the white water of the waves as it kills the bacteria lingering in the gash.

"Does it hurt now?" Y/N asks.

She's looking up at him through her lashes with her lips curled into a smirk as she packs gauze onto the wound until it's covered to her satisfaction. And it should be the last thing he's thinking about right now after cutting up his leg and hitting his head hard enough to worry her about concussions, but he can't help it. Looking down at her like this, it's impossible for him to not think about the unfinished business they have.

Everything is the same as it was yesterday—the tattered white top, the red panties in place of a bikini, sunburnt cheeks, and a taunting look that he'll never get tired of seeing. But that's precisely why he's reminded of it. She's wearing the same clothes and looking at him the way she did on the beach before any of last night's antics occurred, and he can't keep himself from wondering if it'll happen again.

"Yeah," he finally responds.

Her smirk grows for a second before she gets back to work.

"Good."

JJ subtly eyes her up from where she shifts on her knees to set the open gauze wrappers under the peroxide bottle in exchange for the bandage wrap, but he isn't as subtle as he thinks. She can feel his stare no matter how sneaky he attempts to be. He may be able to evade John B's attention, since he dove into the ocean to retrieve the wooden spear that began to float out in the tide, but she never misses a thing. Not when it comes to him.

When he looks at her, he finds memories.

Her legs folded up beneath her bring him back to how smooth they felt on his palms when he lifted them up around his hips. Her rosy lips pressing into a line in concentration bring him back to the coconut flavor he tasted on them. Her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt bring him back to when he lifted it up over her breasts to suck at the sensitive skin until he got a moan from her—There isn't a place he can stare without going back to last night.

Part of him hates that.

He can't stand that a girl who he spent the last five years hating has found a way into his daydreams. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why did she have to lure him into her trap? He supposes there's nothing he can do about it now, though. After hours of stewing over it, he's reached the conclusion that it was likely a one-time thing, a mistake made in the heat of the moment that she won't make again, and he should get the idea of it out of his head.

When she has to adjust her grip to hold the gauze in place while she wraps the bandage around his leg, he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and jerks away again. She glances up at him with her best, "Are you kidding me?" face. Didn't he say he was tough?

"I'm starting to think you're a sadist, 'cause it's like you're trying to make it hurt," he says.

She gasps, feigning offense.

"Me? Enjoying this? It's not like we've hated each other for years or anything."

And though he may not realize it, this is her way of distracting him from the pain of having her apply added pressure to his cut while she wraps the bandage into place. It has to be tight enough to keep water and sand out, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation, and while it may have been tolerable without her touching it, the contact is enough to make it worse for him.

He asks, "Uh, speaking of, why are you the one doing this? Isn't it some kind of HIPAA thing to treat patients you've threatened to violate with tree branches before?"

The sound of her laughter makes his stomach flutter with butterflies, and he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

"That's not what HIPAA is, genius"—her eyes crinkle at the sides with her wide smile while she wraps his leg—"and I'm the one doing this because I know way more medical shit than the rest of you."

Even Pope.

"Ohhh right, I forgot. Your dad is this hotshot surgeon and that makes you think you know everything," he taunts.

The casual mention of her father makes her chest ache with something not many of the Pogues, excluding Pope, have felt since being stranded on this island. With their parents either disowning them, absent, abusive, or dead, they have no reason to resist the allure of living here for the months or years it may take to be rescued, but she does.

She misses him.

For the longest time since her mom died, it was her and her dad versus the world. In everything they did, they did it together, and before she met Sarah, he was the closest she had to a best friend. Since they had no other family to help watch her as a child, she grew up in the hospital with him, drawing with crayons on his office’s printer paper with her babysitter and picking up small things along the way from watching him for so long.

He could've chosen to leave her at home, sure, but he didn't want to miss out on seeing her more than he already did, so she spent the majority of her childhood in offices, waiting rooms, and the indoor playground of the PEDs wing.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself after the sucker punch of being reminded of her dad and says, "Well, I know enough and, thankfully for you, I'm the one doing this instead of John B."

From far away, twenty or so feet offshore where their friend is paddling through the water with the lost spear held in one hand, they hear John B shouting an offended, "I heard that!" back at her. It draws a soft chuckle from them both, and she silently thanks him for distracting JJ one last time as she finishes and secures the bandage so it won't unravel.

She wipes her hands off on her water-soaked thighs one more time to get as much of his blood off of her fingers as possible before she reaches out with both arms extended to offer him help to stand. He takes them with a murmured, "Thanks," as they both try not to show how affected they are by the casual touch.

It makes them feel pathetic that something as small as holding each other's hands makes them remember what they did and desperately wish to continue it. Her throat bobs with how she must swallow the lump in her throat at their close proximity, barely breathing now that he's standing close to her with less than a few inches between them.

For a second, they don't move away. They stay face to face, and all she can think of is how badly she wants to kiss him again. But she can't do anything yet, not when she hears someone screaming from the water.

"There's a shark!" John B screams as he paddles back faster than he's ever swam in his life, already close enough to the peninsula that they can see the terror in his eyes when they turn to look.

Surely enough, there a tip of a fin too pointed to pass off as a dolphin cutting through the surface of the water to alert them of the fish's presence, but if that weren't enough, the water is clear enough for them to see its outline.

Thankfully for him, it isn't huge. It looks about as long as he is tall, but that doesn't change the degree of danger. Just because it isn't as big as other sharks doesn't make a bite any less lethal, especially when their only form of medical attention rests on her knowledgeable yet inexperienced shoulders.

For once in his life, JJ is frozen with no clue of what to do.

He's always the man with the plan, the one who jumps into action when others choke up and sit on the sidelines, but this makes him falter. What can he do to help other than stand here and pray John B can out-swim a shark? He's helpless, and now that he's faced with the prospect of losing his best friend for a second time, he doesn't know what to do.

It was his blood in the water that must have attracted the shark, and he was so caught up in his own drama with her and the pain of his cut that he didn't consider the danger of John B jumping in to retrieve the spear he dropped. It's his fault. His best friend is about to be eaten by a shark and it's his fault—

The blurred image of her rushing past in his peripheral vision rips him from his stormy thoughts, and right when he thought it couldn't get worse, it does. Water splashes up around her body and swallows her under the surface after she leaps off the edge of the rock with the aluminum spear from the dinghy raised in her dominant arm.

"Y/N!"

Before he even realizes what he's doing, JJ is screaming out her name, screaming it like he cares, and damns the consequences to dive in after her.

While he was frozen, she sprung into action without thinking of her own life first. She knew he was close to the rock, but not close enough to swim faster than a predator designed for the conditions of the ocean. It took one glance at the spear resting to the side for her to lean down, scoop it up, and get a running start to jump out as far as humanly possible. Various joints and muscles ached from how she strained to push herself far off the rock, taking flight with nothing but their survival in mind.

She sucks in a heaving breath upon breaking the surface, but she doesn't take a second to pause with John B paddling up to her so soon.

"Go back!"

The only answer she gives him is, "Use your spear!" before she brings hers out of the water in anticipation of the grey figure bolting straight for them.

It's a stupid plan, but it's the only one she has, and if one of them is in danger, they'd all risk everything they have to protect them. After all, they're already trapped here with the threat of death every day. Is there anything more worthy of dying for than your friends?

Neither of them is necessarily trying to kill it yet either, they're trying to keep it at a safe distance or hurt it enough so it swims away from them, but she puts all of her strength into spearing the fish between the eyes anyway. Her legs kick tirelessly to keep her afloat while she and John B stab as accurately as they can, choking down a mouthful of salty ocean water from how her head sinks at the surface without the help of her arms to keep her up.

Blood stains the water with a crimson hue spreading out around their bodies—whether it's theirs or the shark's, she doesn't know—and she must keep her lips clamped shut to prevent it from spilling into her mouth, breathing solely through her nose. She can tell her legs are soon to give out on her, but then a pair of hands latch onto her body. Call her irrational or stupid, but even with the clear distinction of human hands on her waist, her mind reacts in instinctual fear.

The touch makes her jolt mid-stab and sobers her feral mind back to reality for a moment until she realizes it's a human touching her, not the shark.

It's JJ.

His arms wrap around her thighs and hoist her up out of the water as much as he can while still swimming, effectively pushing himself underwater with one last gasp for air.

The sudden shift in view has her gaze shifting around to take in the new sights with a gush of red water rushing off of her onto the splashing surface: a light grey tail whips around in the chaos, the shark's head oozes blood from the multiple puncture wounds that didn't push quite deep enough, and its jaws snap right where John B's arm is before he yanks it back.

After a fraction of a second, it clicks with her that there's no time to waste watching her friend almost get his arm chomped off while she takes in the unbelievable sight. Her slippery grip on the handle remains as firm as possible, and she raises the spear over her head with an improved accuracy she never could've had from where she previously aimed it before. All of their shots landed well enough, but with the height advantage, she won't allow herself to fuck it up this time with her friend's life hanging in the balance.

She hardly recognizes her own frantic voice shouting at him, "Spear it in the gills!"

Her hands bring the razor-sharp tip of the spear down into its head repeatedly, and she isn't sure whether it's the splashing water or tears wetting her face when she buries the weapon down into it for a final time right when John B lodges his wooden spear in its gills.

Whatever she did, it must've hit its brain, because the animal halts its thrashing. Its teeth no longer snap at her friend, nor does its tail whip around in the water as violently as it did a moment ago.

As quickly as it started, it drops off into a sickening calm that leaves the white bubbles dissolving into a puddle of bloody water surrounding the trio and the fish that dies with no small amount of guilt on her part. There was no choice but to kill it. It makes her ache on the inside, but how could she regret it if she knows it saved them? The guilt might ravage her for the upcoming days, but she can't bring herself to regret jumping in after him.

She hardly has the chance to process it before she's being pulled away by both of the boys, her view of the scene shifting drastically once more with the abrupt drop of JJ letting her down in favor of guiding her through the gentle waves. His calloused hand squeezes her arm enough to cut circulation off on their journey back.

Time rushes past her in the next thirty seconds or so it takes them to reach the peninsula again in a paranoid sprint away from where the dead fish floats. One of them, John B she thinks, tosses the aluminum spear he dislodged from the shark's head up onto the rocks and clambers his way back up on his own. The waves closer to land grow rougher than the tender current out where they killed the shark, and she grunts in pain as one sends her and JJ straight into the rocks. His body hits her back with a solid ‘thump’ and forces her to wheeze with the wind getting knocked from her lungs upon impact, nails cracking on the black rock from the desperate grip she uses in an attempt to lift herself.

Meanwhile, JJ can't seem to catch his breath either, nor can he think of anything other than her once he sees that John B isn’t injured.

As soon as he sees his friend is unmarked from the teeth of the shark after he's out of the water, he positions himself behind Y/N to help her out first. He places his hands on her backside to push her up as quickly as he can. Knowing that the carcass in the water will soon attract more sharks in the surrounding area into a feeding frenzy, he'd rather it be him than her. It's a thought that shoots by too fast for him to fully acknowledge the meaning or weight of it at a time like this.

Somehow within his adrenaline-crazed mind, he is careful not to push her onto the jagged edge that sliced his leg open earlier, then climbs after her with little space left between them.

She's coughing up saltwater onto the rocks as he scrambles over to her, eyes wild with the petrifying worry of anything bad happening to her. They scan over her arms, legs, stomach, and back, and he doesn't even realize his hands are reaching out to inspect her as frantically as she had with him when he got hurt.

His hands cup her face, petting over her dripping hair and forcing her to look up so he can see if she somehow got hit in the face. Never has his mind been so void of rational thought, and, knowing him and his impulsive tendencies, that's saying a lot. The confusion of his contradictory feelings for her muddle his mind. Worry and hatred, attraction and anger—they battle it out, but only two manage to reach him externally.

Worry and anger it is. Worry for obvious reasons. Anger because—

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

She has never heard him sound so vicious since the start of whatever odd relationship/friendship/enemy-ship they have. With his worried expression and how he checked her entire body for injury after helping her out of the water, the last thing she would've anticipated from him was anger. Especially not after she saved his best friend's life. Considering what she just did for him, she thinks he should be thanking her, not chastising her.

Behind her back, she can hear a collection of yelling voices and splashing footsteps over the water dripping from them. It can only be the rest of their friends racing up the peninsula to them, but she can't turn around.

She stares at him with utter confusion flooding her at his unexpected outburst. Speechless.

"What was I thinking?" she asks incredulously with her face still cradled between his hands, "I was saving John B's life!"

Their emotional distance and disagreement are made up for in abundance by how physically entangled they've become. It wasn't intentional. It was a result of him needing to get close enough to scour her exposed skin for any bites, but now that they're sitting so near to each other, they forget to back away.

John B is too busy to engage with them.

He's doubled over on the ground with the compulsion to vomit the contents of his stomach into the ocean, but he doesn't dare get close to the edge again after what they went through. Instead, he positions himself away from them and their approaching friends until the half-digested food is forced back through his mouth. The acidic bile scorches his throat and nostrils on the way out.

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to retort back something about her being stupid, because Pope is the first person to reach them and ask, "What the hell happened?"

The rest of the group isn't far behind. It's Kie who asks the next question, then Sarah, then Cleo. They all pop off in rapid succession before either of the three of them can answer.

"Are any of you hurt?"

"Why is he throwing up?"

"Is that a shark?"

The last question draws everyone's attention over to the half-sunken mass of fish bobbing up and down on the breaths of the sea with a wooden spear sticking straight out of its gills. Though it isn't the biggest, most intimidating shark to roam the ocean, its presence doesn't fail to make everyone who looks at it shudder with the realization of what must have happened.

John B wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and points over at her with his trembling arm outstretched.

"She killed it."

The four of them whip their heads in her direction, jaws nearly falling off their faces in disbelief, but she doesn't say anything yet. Because as soon as they feel the eyes of their friends burning into them, she and JJ realize, as though they're returning to reality from the hazy layers of a dreamscape, that they're still holding each other.

She's slumped halfway onto him from when he hauled her body closer to inspect her, so she's essentially sitting on top of him at this point. Her legs, bruised and scratched up from when the waves crested to send them crashing into the rocks, are entangled around his enough that they look back and forth between them and where his hands cup her face in surprise.

JJ doesn't know what came over him.

Now that he snaps out of it at the same time as her, both of them separating and nudging each other away until their bodies are no longer entwined, he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

When he saw her leaping past him to jump into the water, his mind shut off. He wasn't thinking about himself, or the possibility of getting killed, or anything at all. He was only thinking of the danger she put herself in, then he dove in and the rest of his conscious mind faded away into pure survival instinct. Yet, even after he knew the immediate danger was gone, the adrenaline kept him on edge, desperate to get her back to land and pray none of them were hurt.

"It was trying to attack him," she rasps. Her throat is raw from the saltwater she choked on, and every word burns. "But we did it together."

She pushes herself off the ground with an exhausted sigh.

Muscles spent from the struggle in the water, her legs wobble beneath the weight of her upper body as she takes a few steps to help John B up from his position on his hands and knees. From what she heard, he has thrown up all he has left in his stomach and hasn't gagged again in a minute or so, so attempting to stand again shouldn't be too strenuous for him.

His hand is cold in her grasp from the water soaking their bodies, but it holds firmly enough for her to help him into his feet without their palms slipping apart. No patches of blood are visible on his shorts, nor are there any puncture wounds on him from the sharp teeth that snapped at his arm in the quick but vigorous fight.

They were very, very fortunate to have made it out alive, and when he looks down at her face, he feels nothing but gratitude for the girl he previously saw as nothing more than his girlfriend's best friend. They went into the water as casual acquaintances, companions of convenience and the happenstance of being forced onto this island together, but they've come out of it differently. Now, they're friends.

Now, she's a Pogue.

He smiles at her, glancing up at their friends as their questions die down at the sight of his crazy grin, and says, "That was some real Pogue shit right there, Y/N." His eyes come back to meet hers. "I think it's about time we officially make you one of us. What do you think?"

She's opening her mouth to respond when Kiara cuts her off. The rest of them are staring at the trio as if they have ten heads sprouting from their bodies for not immediately surrendering more details of their near-death encounter other than saying she killed it.

"I'm sorry, can we please rewind to the part where you got attacked by a shark first?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a drumroll please for..."

The campfire is roaring with the abundance of sticks, leaves, and branches thrown onto the pile to fuel it as she feels a strong pair of arms looping around her thighs to lift her into the expansive, star-flecked sky.

In a flash of haunting memory, she relives the moment where JJ dove into the water after her and lifted her body above the surface to give her the high ground over the shark. She relives its thrashing hunger, the water splashing on her, and the cloudy hue of blood around them that she hoped wasn't either of the boys. For a second, as the world grows taller with her new perspective, she is brought back to the sudden shift she felt then and feels her stomach drop in panic, anticipating the danger.

But then the sound of her friends laughing, as well as the surging fire and crashing waves, comes back to her and forces the frightful flashback away. Her hip fits perfectly in the curve of John B's shoulder, and she lets her head fall back in giggling laughter at how he hoists her up in the air as though she's a holy figure of worship for the Pogues to kneel to.

His voice can likely be heard across the entire island when he shouts, "The Shark Conqueror!"

The group erupts into a triumphant mixture of cheers and laughter that fills the beach, everyone celebrating in their narrow escape earlier today...everyone except JJ.

After John B divulged the gory details of what happened, from JJ's fall to her picking up the spear and jumping in to save him from the shark, they made their way back with enough conversation to last the month. They all asked questions and took peeks back at where it happened in morbid curiosity, wondering how on earth they managed to come out of the situation without a scratch.

The rest of the afternoon continued on with the same buzzing energy that can only be created from the thrill of being alive. She's felt it many times since joining Sarah's group of friends that seem to find trouble wherever they go, but she has never felt it as vehemently as she does tonight. It's a mixture of euphoria, shock, and soul-crushing guilt for having to hurt another living creature, even one that was intending to make a meal of her friend.

No matter how much she grows up or discovers more about herself as a person, feelings never stop being as frustrating as they were to her as a child. You can get better at processing and hindering explosive reactions to them, but they never simplify. She doesn't know why she feels so much at once. She doesn't know why she feels simultaneously on top of the world and thrown off the edge of a cliff, but she thinks it has to do with him.

Since they walked back to the beach and talked about what happened until the day withered into night, which led them here to the “official” ceremony of her being named a Pogue for life, JJ hasn't spoken to her once.

Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot.

Much like how she avoided him all night last night leading into this morning, he doesn't talk to her. He tries not to look at her too from where he sits on the log of driftwood across the fire, but it's somewhat inevitable with the spectacle John B is making of her at the moment.

Painted in the warm tones of the firelight like a goddess in her own right, Y/N is impossible to look away from, and it makes him angrier than he already is. A handwoven circlet crafted from the hibiscus and hippeastrum flowers growing in the forest around their camp sits atop her head. It doesn't fall to the ground with the movement of her throwing her head back in laughter. It stays in its rightful place against the rule of gravity until her face comes back into view for him to quickly look away from.

It dampers her laughter to see him avoiding her gaze so adamantly, taking a swig of water from one of the small cups they carved from wood and turning to talk to Kie to keep himself busy. The distinct sensation of being on top of the world slips away with the feeling of his cold avoidance and John B lowering her back to the ground until her bare feet sink into the soft sand.

Before she can start sulking about it for the foreseeable future, Sarah steps up beside her.

The familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder brings her comfort amidst her confusion and hurt over the way JJ is acting, and when she turns to see a pretty face looking fondly at her, a warm smile finds her lips.

"Pogue for life?" Sarah asks.

The three words bring make her smile grow the same way it had when she was talking to JJ on the peninsula. It crinkles the skin around her eyes with its unrestrained happiness to hear them because, as much as she pretends to let JJ's comments roll off of her, tonight marks one of the first times she's felt at home with them.

That's not to say they haven't made her feel welcome in the past, they did, but this isn’t the same. This is closer, this is the type of bond that's forged in situations like these where people have no choice but to rely on each other or let their worlds collectively fall apart, and she thinks, for the first time, that she could live here with them forever if she must.

None of them know how much time has passed since they arrived here, least of all her, but it sure as hell feels like an eternity. At first, she could barely withstand the idea of living here for months with the intention of being rescued as soon as possible, but now...

She brings Sarah into an embrace tight enough to force the air from their lungs.

"Pogue for life," she echoes back with her face buried into the salt-scented tresses of dirty blonde hair cascading over her tan shoulders.

Would it be crazy of her to think that this is where they're meant to be? That they're her family and this place she has fantasized about escaping is now their home?

After all, the lush island provides everything they need to sustain themselves with the rationing, scavenging, and hunting routines they adhere themselves to. Freshwater runs down the land in a stream from a water source uphill, plenty of different edible plants grow in the forest, and there's so much left of the expansive land to explore; it's perfect. Everything here is perfect for them, calling out to them to make it their home, but there's one little problem as of right now, and he's sitting across the fire behind her back.

Sarah's arms squeeze around her shoulders once to bring her in even closer.

"Thank you for saving him," her voice is so hushed, Y/N can hardly hear it with her lips brushing the shell of her ear to whisper into it, "I'm not gonna get all mushy with you right now, but I don't know what I would've done if"—Sarah's breath hitches in her throat, and she shakes her head—"I just wanted to thank you."

When they pull apart, Y/N is looking back at her with a knowing expression, one that says everything she can't in the presence of the others, and Sarah can't help but mirror it.

It isn't long before the blonde-haired beauty is whisked away by her boyfriend to help him cook the crabs they caught closer to shore after their encounter with the shark. Not wanting to swim out or risk slipping off the rocks again with the dead fish promising to lure more predators to their area for the next week or so, they settled for hunting for shellfish and making good use of the fruits they find growing in wild abundance in the forest.

The night ticks away in swiftly passing minutes thanks to the humorous company of the people around her.

She nearly chokes on a mouthful of banana as Cleo tells a story from before she met them, when she used to live in Nassau and work jobs with Terence and Stubbs on ships. For such new additions to the group, they both fit surprisingly well with the lifelong childhood friends that sit around and banter with such ease together.

They talk, laugh, dance, and eat together, and there are moments when she feels happier than ever. There are moments exactly like when John B lifted her up and made her giggle at how their friends cheered on her behalf in indulgence of the silly "ceremony" they did, half out of boredom and half out of gratitude for what she did. But then she is reminded of the man sitting on the outskirts of the group with his features hardened into an expression of contemplation she wishes she could decode.

The night breeze feels heavenly on her perpetually overexposed skin. It blows into the fire and allows it to swell from the oxygen supply, crackling and popping embers out every so often like the spark of the zippo lighter JJ fidgets with in his restless hands. The movement attracts her wandering eyes while they should be focused on Cleo and Kie dancing around the fire with boisterous laughter while Sarah and Pope sing for them.

She keeps herself honed in on the opening and closing of the lighter under the guidance of his ring-clad fingers for the next minute or so.

They may have been pitting themselves against each other since they met, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know him well. If anything, the keen attention that her old hatred for him forced her to keep on him made her memorize everything there is to know. And she surely has picked up on the nervous habit of him playing with the lighter whenever he's thinking, whenever there's something crawling under his skin that he can't piece together.

He sits with his back to her, facing out toward the ocean so all she can see is the hand he uses to flick the lighter open and shut with. With a quick glance at the rest of their friends to see if any of them are watching or wanting to speak with her, she pushes herself up from the log and dusts her sandy palms on her shirt.

The tracks of her footsteps lead around the corner of the driftwood he rests against until her feet appear, sunken into the sand in front of him. It takes a lot of control to not allow himself to follow up the length of her body, panning up along her legs until he sees that infuriatingly tenderhearted set of eyes looking down at him.

However, he doesn't have a choice in looking when her hand outstretches in a silent invitation. His first glimpse of her in the last half-hour shows her jerking her chin in the direction of the beach curving around the bend of the island.

This morning, he probably would've taken her up on the offer. He would've done anything to get a few minutes alone with her, but now he can't see past his anger and doesn't know why. He doesn't know why it hasn't calmed yet, but, in truth, it has more to do with him than it does her idiotic yet brave decision to fight off a shark today. Trust him, it still has a lot to do with the idiotic shark thing, but the rest is lost in translation for him.

"Not in the mood," he dismisses her.

Her brows furrow and form a crease between them as she tries to find something to say but comes up with nothing. At least not until it clicks with her what he thought she was trying to do by inviting him to walk with her.

The last time they went off on their own together, it ended in an explosive encounter they have yet to erase from their minds. It's what greets them whenever they close their eyes for a second too long, existing in their wildest daydreams and fantasies whenever they have a spare moment to themselves. Hell, he can't stop thinking about it even when he's already occupied. It was the reason why he didn't catch any fish this morning before the incident that made him pissed at her in the first place. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Oh," she murmurs and starts to kneel down until her knees are sinking into the sand the same way she did when patching up his leg. Her eyes peek over his shoulder to ensure the others didn't hear them—"That wasn't what I meant...I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about today. It must have been a lot to process, since he's your best friend and all, and—"

JJ snaps, unable to tolerate it anymore, and stands up from his spot on the sand to move away from her.

"You don't need act all therapist with me, okay? I'm fine, and I don't need you to fix me if that's what you wanted. Today was fine. Everything's fine, so let it go."

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish with a loss for words. For the second time in the span of a minute, she is grasping blindly for something to say in the wake of him shocking her to silence. He's starting to walk past her but she doesn't let him. Her hand shoots out to stop him and holds onto his arm to turn him back despite his rudeness.

Underneath it all, her concern touches him deeply. It shouldn't trigger a reaction like this in him, so why does it? What about today set him off? He hasn't been this genuinely angry with her since before the hunt for the gold began, before she started to blend into their friend group and establish herself as one of them.

"Woah, woah, woah," she says, "I never said that. I thought that you needed someone to talk to. You know, as a friend."

Their friends start to notice their interaction tensing up now. Before, they didn't pick up on her stepping away for a second to check on him. Now, it's impossible to ignore what unfolds hardly six steps from where they watch as slyly as they can. The two of them haven't had a conversation as cold as this one in months, and what he says next takes it to a place that freezes over the connection they made last night and shatters the warm place it held in her heart.

He scoffs.

"We're not friends. If you think you gotta act different 'cause you threw yourself at me last night, don't bother. You hate me and I hate you. That's how it is."

No nicknames, jokes, or anything to act as a buffer, just cruelty. Rejection.

Though they truly were trying to pretend like they weren't paying attention, every single one of their friends stops and stares. A chorus of hushed reactions sound off from across the fire, and the faint sound of Kie muttering, "Oh shit," is the first thing to reach their ears. It's needless to say that none of them could've expected something so callous to come from him, not after what they saw when they ran up to them on the peninsula this morning.

With the way he was holding her then, doting on her and cradling her face between his hands even in the midst of his anger at what she did, they sooner expected the pair to admit they're dating than have a blowout like this.

In the delayed seconds it takes for her to realize what the fuck he just said to her, he watches her face shift from a look of concern to sadness, to flush-faced embarrassment, then finally to anger. Her teeth grind together, nostrils flaring on her inhale, and in one quick moment, she comes to a conclusion within herself.

She reaches up to rip the handmade crown of vibrant flowers off her head with flames to match the camp fire flaring up in her eyes for him. Before she can do anything, he already knows he crossed a line, if not multiple lines. It's evident in everything he sees, from the hurt look on her face to the force with which she shoves the crown into the center of his chest to send him stumbling back a few steps. Just like yesterday, except it couldn't be any more different.

"Fuck. You." She spits the words as though they're venomous, and he almost shrinks away under the intensity of her stare, “Go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be with me."

Petals flutter out upon impact against his solid chest and float peacefully to the sand around his feet as he watches her turn on her heels and storm off toward their hut. Though, after what he did and what she said to him as a goodbye, it isn't really theirs anymore, is it? At least not for tonight, tomorrow, or the next day until he finds a way to make her hear him out for an apology.

He stands there, frozen, the entire time he watches her leave. Nothing can move him from the spot, not even Sarah knocking her shoulder against his with a pointed glare on her way past to follow her into the moonlit darkness.

He doesn't even resist the disappointed looks he gets, or the shoulder check from Sarah. This time, he deserves it. He deserves every ounce of their judgment. All she was trying to do was make sure he was okay and he was too consumed in his unreleased frustration from today to see it. And, in a way, he's still frustrated over it, but it's greatly overshadowed by the guilt seeping through him.

The shadowy shapes of the two girls disappear into the small hut further down the beach, and JJ is left with nothing to do but look down at the flower crown clutched to his chest in regret.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx2 #this fic is so over the top and silly but I love it 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

282 notes · View notes

whimsicallyreading · 3 years

Text

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

#throne of glass #rowaelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinmonth #angst #tog #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #song fic #rowan x aelin #fenrys #day 29

132 notes · View notes

skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru · 3 years

Note

I'm not sure Gojo has ever even shown an interest to any girls.

He calls Utahime weak and teases her by making fun of her, essentially- which she hates. Mei Mei is incredibly strong and beautiful, and Gojo acknowledges her skill but that's it. I also noticed that in the anime (the manga doesn't have honorifics, so please correct me if I'm wrong) but he calls her Mei-san rather than Mei Mei. Therefore, I don't think he ever tried to get much closer to her than the interactions we've seen. When she asks him if he'd comfort her if she cried, he tells her that's she strong- she wouldn't cry. I thought it was interesting that while Mei Mei's question was slightly flirty, Gojo answered so simply, without any teasing.

He calls Shoko by her first name, which is understandable since they spend more time together being in the same grade. He realizes that her ability is rare and useful, but like with Utahime and Mei Mei he doesn't go any further than that. He mostly speaks to her about work related things and doesn't flirt or tease much at all.

Honestly, I think Gojo actually respects his female colleagues and mostly pokes fun at Utahime because she's so uptight and strict. Shoko and Mei Mei are more relaxed and self-assured, and Gojo recognizes their skills and compliments them for it rather than teasing them. I doubt Gojo really thinks Utahime is truly weak more than he just loves riling her up. Other than that, Gojo's pretty respectful.

Also, in the Hidden Inventory arc, Gojo was bombarded with screaming from all the girls excited to see him. Other than pulling his shades down so they could see his face- after they asked him to, btw- he didn't really do much else. He didn't even react much to the teacher giving him her phone number. His only comment was "what a fun school," and it's interesting to see that while lots of girls do appreciate his looks, he acts only mildly amused.

Other than that one model as his wallpaper, we don't really see Gojo flirt or show interest with anyone. He only really teases Utahime to piss her off- I suspect he hates how much she follows the rules like Nanami does, who he teases often as well. He likely just enjoys annoying people so stern because rules just don't sit well with him (especially because of what those "rules" had done to Geto).

It's just a possibility, but he could be one of those guys who's more interested in work than pleasure- I know, he's handsome, but not all handsome people are players and cheaters. I think that's a horrible stigma and a lot of attractive people irl are judged and criticized solely for their looks. People make too many assumptions on someone just based on their genes, and I think it's pretty shallow to think Gojo's a womanizer just because he's attractive. And he knows he's attractive- but when did being confident in yourself make you a philanderer? Gojo has never used his looks manipulatively at all.

It's definitely a possibility that he would be a womanizer, but I'd say it's unlikely based in what we've seen. To sum it all up, Gojo doesn't show interest in anyone. He teases Utahime often, likely for the same reason be teases Nanami- they're too uptight. Shoko and Mei Mei are both incredibly skilled and beautiful sorcerers, and he does acknowledge and compliment them for it, but he doesn't tease or flirt with them. He's respectful, and he works with them as his colleagues. He didn't get distracted by the teen girls fawning over him either, or suddenly get overtly cocky or show off, only sliding his glasses down so they could see his face, and even then he acted only mildly amused. Also, when Miwa asked him for a picture, he didn't even stay and chat with her or anything (I know she's a minor, but if he truly was a womanizer, he would have at least stayed to hear her compliment him or anything to feed his ego) Maybe ask her "Oh, you want a picture with me? The strongest? How cute~" A flirty comment, a joke, something to fuel his own ego, but he doesn't do that. He doesn't act in a way that conveys he openly pursues attention from women. He just takes the picture with her and walks off casually.

Therefore, other than the fact that he's handsome- and I know many people who would assume things about someone based on their attractiveness, which is a terrible stereotype- Gojo doesn't show much interest in flirting at all. He could be the type of guy who works more than plays- and there's plenty of guys who are handsome but aren't super interested in playing around. Being handsome doesn't automatically mean he's the type to sneak around and have affairs here and there. It's completely realistic for a handsome man to be uninterested in any kind of relationships- not all men are sex crazed, and being a tease to his friends doesn't make Gojo a flirt either. Teasing your friends is perfectly normal.

Therefore, Gojo being a 28 year old virgin is totally possible- not everyone's a sex crazed teen who only thinks about what's between their legs, and basing it on what normal Japanese teens do is unfair. Neither Gojo or his lifestyle is exactly normal, and there's definitely barriers when it comes to experiencing normal youth activities for Gojo's generation- especially Gojo's generation. Yuji's generation definitely has more freedom to do fun things because of what Gojo has done to give the youth more freedom- things he hasn't been able to experience himself in his youth, like playing baseball during the exchange event. That was the first time they ever did something different to tradition, and that was only because of Gojo's consideration.

Gojo's youth was filled with blood, exorcising, and choosing between life and death. The deaths Yuji and co. witnessed were what Gojo experienced as well, if not worse. Gojo's task in his youth was to protect the weak, and he found that burdensome. At least, until Geto betrayed them, and Gojo realized the new burden he had to bear in changing the Jujutsu world because of what it had done to his only best friend.

There are definitely more important things in Gojo's mind than just losing his virginity, like saving people and choosing who to save, whether he should kill or not kill.

Gojo is the strongest, but he also bears the biggest burden- and that burden is something he chose to bear, and being the strongest is something he chose to be. Because before Geto left, it was "We are the Strongest." Now, Gojo worked tirelessly so that he could say "I am the Strongest."

And that's not something you can do while sleeping around. I think a lot of people fail to recognize just how hard Gojo works for himself and others. They just think, oh he's the strongest, so it should be easy for him. But it's really, really not that simple, is it? Especially when you have to do it on your own, and even then Gojo realizes that his strength alone isn't enough to save people. He can't save everyone by himself- It's not enough for just him to be the Strongest, so he works diligently to build and inspire his students to stand with him.

He's actually a very deep and emotional man who cares about his students and especially, even now, his best friend. Everything he does is for their sake- he sacrifices the normal life he could have lived, like Nanami had done, for their sake. And he fights with the higher ups, takes the brunt of their ire, and laughs it off, acting as if he fine, like a dad pretending he's superman for his kid's sake. But Gojo is burdened, and he's tired, and he hardly sleeps, and he has the most missions- he's the Strongest, which means everyone needs him, and he bears it.

Sorry for ranting again tho. I think I went into two different topics lol oops- 🤔

OUR SAVIOR 🤔 EDUCATING PEOPLE pay attention ya'll another thing I've noticed in the latest episode is that in his phone contacts he actually writes Utahime's name properly like formally no emojis or teasing shit he actually sees them as his colleagues people he can rely on his field of work and yes about the whole thing when he bursted into riko's class man was absolutely clueless just silent as a teacher tries to give him his number. I'm pretty sure as a child Gojo wasn't allowed to attend public schools due him being in danger or putting others in danger so he doesn't know much about public schools or normal people in general since he spends all his time with people from the jujutsu society.

That is definitely true just because someone is good looking that doesnt mean he's some cheap womanizer. I see a lot of people shipping him and Utahime together which is understandable ship who you like but I don't think Gojo as any ulterior motives like wooing Utahime by teasing her he just is plainly teasing ya know like friends do but in this case Utahime hates his guts and he doesnt know. I mean it takes some amount of hate to try to throw hot tea at someone 😂

While certainly I agree Gojo's teen like wasn't the best it was like he literally had a full time job at that age but who's to stay he didn't go messing around one time? I'm sure during his teen days he wanted to experience things he didnt get to to but now could because he lives on his own now. But maybe he didnt at all who knows? Which also raises another question, I wonder if he has any romantic experiences? And this was all before what happened in the hidden inventory arc after that I can see him more becoming invested in his duty and with what happened with geto as well would of definitely had a huge impact on him to try harder even though hes the strongest so that the next generation wouldn't have to experience the things he went through.

It's really sad if you really think about it what hes been through and what he has to shoulder all while keeping the facade that he's okay, I bet there were times he cursed his powers and his life....but he bears with it anyways because everyone is counting on him....

And don't be sorry at all! I am actually really learning alot about Gojo from you. Please continue to tell us your thoughts and feelings. I don't mind at all ❤ and thank you for taking the time to write 💕

#gojo discussions #virgin or not?#gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #skipps chat

287 notes · View notes

marchioness-caprina · 4 years

Text

You Like Me Not?

Pairings : Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warnings : Mild Cussing

Word Count 3290

3rd Person's POV

" Hawks. I'll ask you Nicely ok? Can you Please Please keep your distance from That New hero in your agency? That Foxy bimbo bitch what's her name again? " Y/n ranted narrowing her eyes towards Keigo who was casually lounging down on the couch with an amused look on his face.

" Now now Little Dove, I can't avoid her if you don't even know her name. But if I must say it then... Hmm" Keigo's eyes gleamed mischievously at the female in front of him as he uttered a word that made y/n go red with anger .

" Enchantress? "

" Keigo. " Y/n gave him a stern look and he just laughed at her face like it was a joke.

" Listen Kid. Looks like you gotta have another reality check. I can't avoid her because.... " Keigo paused his eyes never leaving y/n's angered face.

" Because? " Y/n growled impatiently as she crossed her arms.

" 1. We're Not even dating but here you are acting like you're MY girlfriend when you're clearly you're.... Not. " Keigo chuckled and y/n who knew that it was a fact flinched; feeling as if a million bricks were dropped on top of her head. The way he said it was like a harsh blow to the gut but she kept her usual strong expression.

" 2. We're working under the same agency so getting paired up with her isn't avoidable... Plus as her hero name states... She is enchanting " Keigo's smirk only grew as y/n's face became flushed with anger. Her eyes burning up dangerously as she gave a venomous glare at Keigo.

" And last but not the least... 3. I'm not interested in a first year kid. So chances of the two of us of ever dating is a Big fat No. Plus I think Enchantress is a lot more prettier than the average and if you ask me... I'd go after adults like her than Kids like you so stop acting like we're---" Although Keigo's Tone was indeed playful and the smirk on his face made it even more clearer. His words stung like hell.

Y/n who was visiting their agency and went straight up to his office to complain had taken in the harsh damages and blows. Yes she may be a first year brat in U.A but was it really terrible to love someone older than her by a few years?.

Apparently she was a little naive in terms of love so when Keigo saved her when she was still in middle school she fell in love. Who wouldn't? He's got undeniable charms, a pretty face , a well sculptured figure but most of all. He made her feel safe and protected, setting she never felt before so when she finally began studying in U.A she decided to pursue Hawks so it was very common for her to come by the agency. Almost everyone knows who she is by now.

So this was the usual; but it was the first time she walked out on Keigo who was still Talking.

Because it was honestly too much. After she confessed to him and started pursuing him, Keigo decided to be a Jerk and gave her a very hard time. When she'd come over to give him lunch he'd purposely fly away and call her to deliver it to a specific place but when she gets there he calls her again to either say that she was taking too long and left or he had 'accidentally' gave the wrong address and he needs her to send it on this one instead.

And he keeps doing that everytime. He even went as far as to go to another town to have her chasing him like a madman. Yet her determination never faltered. Something Hawks had came to acknowledge her for.

He sends her on wild goose chases and one time he gave her 3 wrong addresses even though he was only sitting in his office the whole time.

And if people think his wings are sharp then his words are sharper. He may be sweet to the media or the other people outside but when talking to her, his words are venomous, sarcastic, and over all it's just rude and pretty painful to hear.

How y/n had managed to stand strong until now was a mystery and everyone in the agency had grew to respect her for this but also carrying a little hatred for Hawks who purposely plays with her.

Keigo who was left in his office was speechless, he blinked a few times and even pinched himself to see if he was dreaming and when he found out that he wasn't he gave out a sigh.

It was quiet, far too quiet. His mind drifted off to y/n who had stormed out of his office awhile ago. Yes he was very much aware of the cruel treatment he was giving her but that's only because he wanted to see how persistent this girl was with her love for him, he thought she'd give up within the second time but when she never did he grew even more intrested and began testing her a lot more than intended and when he found out that her affection for him was too strong.

He didn't know what to do and began running away like a coward. It was wrong in so many levels. She was younger than him not to mention she's still studying in U.A, His job isn't necessarily designed to have a normal life and finding love and making a family IS normal, and he might die one day and he didn't want her to carry the burden of losing him so it's better to make her hate him.

But boy was he wrong when she kept coming back stronger than before. She was already forcing her way in his heart that he became distressed with his emotions.

And poof, he suddenly realized that he loved her back.

Something about her allured him to no ends and curse his animalistic instincts when it comes to mates because as much as he hates to admit it, he had already acknowledged her as a Mate. HIS mate. He can't help but be greedy and possessive of her, and the the mighty knows how many nights he had to lock himself in, restrain himself while his self control was being brutally tested on ; because with one wrong move he may have already infiltrated U.A causing a security distress, Crashed inside her dorm room , fucking bred her like a feral animal and claimed her like the pretty little mate she was.

Everytime he sees her, his control weakens and he had to hit himself and punch his face multiple times literally to remind himself that she was still a goddamn minor and he can't have his way with her yet.

She's not making it any easier for him so he developed a bad habit of taking it out on her because if his words can't do the talking then he might as well jump her bones and have her screaming his name.

Keigo groaned as he planted his palm on his forehead.

He was beginning to feel anxious. Like something bad was about to happen; something he didn't like at all.

He turned on the T.V and started reading through a few papers works but he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He jumped out the window and began feverishly looking for the h/c haired girl.

" Fuck me and my Fucking Hormones... God.... Kid what have you done to me? " He mumbled but it came out as a growl instead. He was agitated, frantic and nervous, he couldn't get her out of his head even if he'd hit his head on a fucking billboard.

His eyes darting to every direction he knew she would take to get here. As creepy as it may sound but he knows every single route she'd take to get to his agency including the transportation she'd take to get there every time.

After some time he finally spotted her after dashing and flying at jet speed throughout the city like a mentally deranged patient he had finally spotted her .

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he tried to regain his cool.

" Hey Kid" He yelled out once he was near enough and he got no answer.

Y/n had purposely ignored him. His words still rang inside her head and everytime she remembered. It made her heart clench in pain.

And when she heard her name being called out by the said Male . She wanted to turn around. hell she even wanted to run to him like a love sick little puppy but she can't let him see that she was crying.

So she ignored him and began walking at a faster pace.

" Oohh~ playing hard to get now aren't we? You know you gotta try harder. A little silent treatment isn't going to have me falling for you ya know" keigo casually stated with a hint of playfulness but he knew any better; he was desperate to have her attention back to him.

God, what did he do? Did she finally wake up and decided that she was sick of his bullshit treatment? Shit now what?.

After minutes of no answer Keigo began to feel frustrated and without thinking he landed behind her and grabbed her by the shoulder. only to whirl her around to face him.

" Kid---"

Keigo froze after seeing here blood shot eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He did it this time and he felt like a full blown jerk for doing this... For hurting her.

Y/n avoided any form of eye contact and placed her eyes on anywhere but him, lips quivering in a mixture of anger and sadness. She looked like a mess.

But Keigo thought otherwise though, he felt so sick of himself. The face she was making, teary eyes, flushed cheeks, quivering lips. It had disgustingly turned him on even though the situation screamed otherwise. His thoughts began to drift into the dirtiest part of his mind wondering if this face would be the reward he'd get if he'd have her under him, sprawled all over his sheets, sweaty and needy for him while crying-- no begging for him to give her more while he rearranged her guts. Damn he really was Messed up in every possible way.

He wanted to slap himself for thinking that way but a part of him couldn't blame himself because ever since she started coming over he had been so pent up it was a miracle he hadn't fucked her on the spot. And he didn't even have the guts to fuck another woman because he already acknowledged her as a mate; HIS mate.

He swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak.

" What's this? Now you're giving me a Sad and Pity worthy face? If you're making me feel guilty then it's working. I didn't think you'd stoop this low th---"

" Takami leave me alone. I don't want to see you right now, if you came here to insult me even further then just Go. " Y/n cut him off, she was unable to bring herself from listening to another one of his remarkable insults again when the wound was still fresh.

Keigo paused as his once playful stare began to change into a more intimidating and stern look.

' Leave you Alone? After what you've done to me? Oh~ what a naughty baby bird... No Never.... I'll keep this in mind when I finally claim you, I'll punish you for ever thinking of leaving' those thoughts circulated through Keigo's head as he silently stood there. Staring at her.

Y/n who was unable to handle the pressure tried to yank herself away from his hold but he had a grisly grip on her shoulders and his gaze managed to intimidate her enough to stop moving.

" Listen.... Y/n---"

" Senior Hawks! " Keigo was cut off from speaking and to top it all up he was taken by surprise and his reflexes kicked in; pushing y/n away quite harshly.

Their gazes were flung to the left where Enchantress, the new Hero in their agency was running towards them with a devious smile.

Keigo groaned and y/n rolled her eyes after seeing the pink haired female make her way towards them.

" Hey " Keigo muttered but again; he was caught by surprise when Enchantress had wrapped her arms around his while smiling proudly at y/n.

" Who's This Senior? " She asked pointing at y/n but the look on her face made it obvious that she already knew who y/n was.

" She's y/n...a fan" Keigo's persona shifted in a heartbeat and was now wearing his natural and charming smile.

" Oh? She's a Fan? Well nice to meet you. I'm the new Hero Enchantress, Say... You have a pretty face " Enchantress smirked making y/n fight back a scowl.

" Thanks " As much as y/n wanted to drop all the pleasantries and Immediately move to the part where she's ripping of Enchantress's left boob.... She can't.

So she decided to keep it neutral and gave Enchantress a small nod and a smile.

" You have a pretty face... But... Senior if you were given a chance to pick, which one of us would you choose? I wonder" Enchantress cheered innocently but her question got Hawks cornered.

She was doing this on purpose; placing him in a situation where he'd most likely fuck up and judging by the looks the two females were giving him... He can't smooth talk his way outta this. Not this time.

" Of course.... I'd pick you-- " Keigo's eyes we're settled on y/n but he pulled his gaze away from her and towards enchantress. " Enchantress" Keigo finished and The look of triumph on The pink haired female's face was floor-bash worthy.

Y/n stood in place, for a moment there she had her hopes up. Keigo was cruel enough to pull that stunt on her; giving her false hope only to bring her down and rub it in her face.

" Or course you'd pick me, miss y/n is still a kid and she's... Take no Offense in this miss y/n but Senior Hawks is a bit... Hmmm... Out of your league?" Enchantress smirk grew wider and Hawks who was already lying through his teeth was still fighting his Pride for dominance.

With a sharp glare sent towards Enchantress who didn't seem to notice only scooted closer towards him.

" Oh, Really? Ok then "

Keigo blinked at how nonchalant and uncaring y/n's reply was. He was genuinely expecting her to explode like usual but this time it's different.

Y/n was fighting back the new batch of tears, heartbreak was a real pain in the ass. Couldn't he just put her down slowly? Why is he taking pleasure in hurting her this way? Now he's rubbing salt onto the wound.

In which area did she lack in? Her face? Body? Skill? Intelligence? Now that she thought about it, Enchantress tray lived up to her Hero name. She was perfect in every angle.... Perfect for Hawks. Enchantress had a nice body, a seductive face and y/n heard of the achievements done by the Female Hero.

She can't beat her even if she tried. She's mentally, physically and emotionally drained to even give a reaction. She'd just get hurt even more.

Maybe this is a sign.

For her to finally give up, move on, shift her focus and concentration to something more beneficial.

This was hopeless and all she ever got was pain. She's not a masochist who yearns for the continuous and brutal impact of emotional pain. Heck even masochists needs a little love too.

She's tired and y/n knows better than to put herself down with her own insecurities. So she needed to make a move fast because she'll only get hurt again.

It's wise to forget him.

With a deep breath she pulled out a strong front with a genuine smile on her face as she gazed at Keigo and Enchantress.

Keigo wore an anxious look while Enchantress held a surprised expression.

" Well, you two do look compatible and you're right he is out of my league.... That's why I'll look for someone else within my reach. He's not the only fish in the pond.... I'm sure I'm holding you guys back.. Carry on with your hero duties, I'll go back now Bye~" Y/n turned around and gave them a wave before skipping away from the two.

Her tone along with her smile looked far too cheerful that it scared Hawks.

Did she just say she'd look for Someone Else?, she had the guts to say that right in front of him?.

He balled his hand into a fist, and for the first time in his life he had never felt this scared to lose someone. He was breathing heavily while throwing a mental tantrum.

" You know.... I thought you'd finally stop that bad habit of yours Hawks.... I learned from the rumors and wanted to see for myself and probably give you a hand to confess to her but now that I've witnessed it, You really are a Fucktard" Enchantress shook her head as she crossed her arms gazing at Hawks with disappointment.

" Fuck off. This was your fault to Begin with. It's not as easy as you think"

" Really? You're blaming me for all the fuck ups you're responsible for? A girl's heart is fragile Hawks... I didn't live for a hundred years buried in the shelter of naivety. Her love was true and I think you just lost your chances.... If you wanna fix it. Fix it fast because once a girl has enough, she'll leave you like you're worth nothing. "

" I... I know I fucked up but your meddling wasn't necessary "

" Really? I was getting tired of watching you hurt her. I'm a woman too and I don't appreciate seeing other men hurt a woman who clearly loves them.... I did her a favor by giving her the ultimatum to let go... Looks like she took it in the end " Enchantress chuckled while Hawks stood there, his demeanor turning darker by the passing second.

" You're saying it's better that she leave me? " Keigo muttered Darkly , a dangerous look in his eyes began to resurface.

Enchantress kept a calm expression and nodded her head.

" You're Toxic Hawks. And it's better for her to leave you than seeing her get hurt over and over again... I've been in that stage before... And it hurts more than any injury I've suffered... "

" Since you're so knowledgeable about this then why not tell me how to fix it? Before I decide to go rogue and slit your throat" keigo threatened as he plucked out a feather which turned rudged and sharp; pointing it at Enchantress .

" Hmm... You seem to Love her judging by how strongly you reacted ... But you're worst than shit in showing it... But here's a tip . If you wanna fix it then fix yourself first. Learn how to treat a woman you like as if she's greater than a queen and remember that I'm not the one who hurt her...it was you." With those words being uttered Enchantress disappeared in a puff of smoke.

........ To be continued

#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha imagine #y/n #xreader #hawks imagine #Hawks x Reader #Takami Keigo #Keigo x Reader #Jealous!Keigo #You Love Me Not?

241 notes · View notes

borathae · 2 years

Note

I'm too embarrassed to share this with someone who knows me irl. But it's too much of a burden to keep it in. I need to get it out of my chest. I hope you don't mind me wailing to u.

here I go.

today I had real actual s*x with my supposed friend with just the body deal or what majority people call it benefit (basically the 'friends with benefits' phrase). I don't know why the specific word benefit sounds filthy to me, it boils my blood because there was a time when I used to criticize those who'd engage on such relations looking back I've become someone I'd been once disgusted of.

everything was fine in the beginning we'd sext, we'd make out, and do other stuffs. I was okay untill at times when he'd ghost me for weeks, months even and come to me out of blue I realised what we were doing, what we had was wrong because first we kept doing it on secret and second it sort of irritated me because I can't say no to him when he'd treat me like that and keep coming back whenever he wanted.

I don't know when things started bothering me, I cried because his uncle had been diagnosed with paralysis and he cried to me that day, I haven't even met his uncle don't even know his name. there is more. more of such little things that I've been taking notice of.

he contacted me for the first time in 4 months today after not being in contact at all, not even through insta, snap. and that's how we ended up. I was overwhelmed and the deed happened. I'm so ashamed because it's ramadan month and we're not supposed to be doing this. I feel fucked up. and I realised that I might love him. I've held myself back from self admitting but today I didn't held it back. but what is more fucked up is that our *** didn't mean shit to him. You know the vibe. Yeah everything was normal. We went to a cafe after we had *** We catched up, it was fun and I missed him?

but I have this gut feeling that's why he knocked me for. It's obvious. been 5 hours since he's kept me on read. and these thoughts have been torturing my mind, he's not mine but I feel scared to lose him. my best friends are too busy to hear me out and give advice. He seemed anything but effected. I fucking wanna cry. I'm fucked. I let him have my virginity. I'm feel so guilty. Feels like someone is squeezing my heart.

Okay first of all you are at no fault here, so stop feeling guilty. You did nothing wrong. Most people lose their virginity to fkcing idiots. Virginity is overrated and you are still incredibly valid and precious!

He however seems to be a big fucking asshole. First of all, if he truly cared for you he wouldn't ghost you for literal months only to then come back when he wants to get his dick wet again. Major asshole-y fuckboy vibes right here. Just throw the entire friend out 🤢

Second of all, I know letting go is hard (trust me I've been struggling with having to let a ghost in my life not so long ago too) but the people in your life shouldn't make you want to cry and be in pain constantly. Because if they do, then they are not worthy of being in your life and you are way better off without them.

You said you are scared to lose him? Well ask yourself question if he would be scared as well. Because it sounds to me that he gives a wet shit about you and only wants you for sex. Someone like that you can very much let go of.

Someone who loves you and wants to be with you, should carry you on literal hands, should want to talk to you each day, should smile just when they think about you, SHOULD WANT TO MEET UP FOR OTHER THINGS THAN JUST TO FUCK. And I know I probably sound ice cold right now, but what you described right now does not sound as if he has the same feeling for you than you do for him.

I truly hope you stayed safe and if you didn't make sure to get Plan B ASAP (if you have an uterus and aren't on birth control pills) and make sure to get checked for any kind of STDs or STIs as well. Truly, you don't want to carry even more burdens by this idiot fuckboy with you. So get yourself checked, be safe and then treat yourself to some relaxation.

I love you and you are precious 💜

#asks #anon

3 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S1:E1; Chapter One, The Vanishing of Will Byers - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘖𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The boys and I finally make it to school; my legs are always exhausted by the time we reach the student drop off.

I hear the bell ring when we park our bikes.

"That's weird. I don't see him." Mike finally says what we've all been thinking. 'Where the hell is Will?' Personally, I'm starting to get really worried.

As if catching onto my growing worries, Lucas chimes in.

"I'm telling you. His mom's right. He probably just went to class early again."

I always admired how Lucas can always be so optimistic with stuff like this; always thinking logically. He's really good at keeping the party level-headed. I tend to worry a lot so it's nice to have a friend like Lucas to keep my feet on the ground.

"Yeah, he's always paranoid Gursky's gonna give him another pop quiz."

"Well, I don't blame him. Gursky gives me pop quizzes all the time, and it's exhausting. Never knowing when you will be put on the spot" I say.

"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen."

'Oh just perfect. Troy and his goon'

"Step right up and get your tickets for the freak show," Troy says smugly.

I click my tongue and shake my head in a mocking tone.

"Oh, sorry guys but we actually can't make it today. By any chance, can we catch your act tomorrow?" I bat my eyelashes at them in innocence, the comment earning a few chuckles from Lucas, Mike, and Dustin.

Troy's face scrunched up in anger, clearly offended by my comeback.

"Hey, no one asked you, shithead!"

I roll my eyes at his cheap insult. However, the boys were having none of it, especially Dustin, as usual. They get into a threatening stance, while Dustin tries to lunge for them, but I put my arm out to stop them before they can even do anything.

"Guys, just ignore them. It doesn't matter to me. They're not even worth it."

Troy and his puppet James only seem amused.

"So who do you think would make more money in a freak show anyway?" Troy continues.

"Midnight," he punches Lucas. I clench my fists, my chest already burning with anger and ready to strike.

"Frogface," he punches Mike, and my jaw tightens so tight it threatens to lock.

"Orphan" he punched me. I took a deep breath trying to control my anger.

"Or toothless?" He shoves Dustin.

It's taking everything in me not to tackle him right now. I've always been like this. Whenever someone insults me, I'm able to brush it off, but as soon as someone goes after the people I care about, I lose it. Big time.

His goon sighs and holds his hand to his chin as he pretends to think about it while he looks at all of us. He then stops at Dustin and singles him out, in a voice that's clearly supposed to be Dustin's.

"I'd go with Toothless." My nails are probably drawing blood from my palms at this point.

"I told you a million times, my teeth are coming in. It's called cleidocranial dysplasia." Dustin says.

"I th'old you a million th'imes" he continues.

"Screw you," I shout, lunging for him. But before I could ever actually reach him, Dustin pulls me back, stopping me as I had him.

"Y/n, you were right. They aren't worth it."

They just laugh smugly in response. I grit my teeth and cross my arms.

"Do the arm thing."

"Do it, freak!"

"Oh, I swear to god!" I go to charge at him but Mike pulls me back and pats my back trying to calm me down. I glare daggers at the boys in front of me. I swear I'm seeing red and it feels as if my blood is literally boiling in veins.

"Y/n it's fine. Look, here," he sighs tiredly, putting down his backpack and taking off his jacket. He then extends his arms out and you can hear his bones crack. He then looks to the bullies pointedly and says, "There, I did it. Will you leave us alone now?"

The bullies groan in disgust and Troy says, "UGH. It gets me every time!" They laugh, shoving us aside roughly and walk away.

"Assholes," Lucas beat me to it.

"I think it's kinda cool," Mike offers, looking at Dustin. "It's like you have superpowers or something. Like Mr. Fantastic."

"Yeah, except I can't fight evil with it."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

{Trigger Warning for Anxiety Attacks}

Troy and his friend had just left us alone, so the four of us began making our way to class. As we walk through the hallways, the three of them end up side by side by side next to each other while caught up in their conversation which at this point, had drifted to planning our next campaign. Normally I'd be all over it but I found myself drifting back and keeping to myself, my thoughts wandering to Will.

'I really hope he's okay. Ya know what? No, Lucas is right, as usual, he's got to be at class by now. He has to be.'

I try to push all the negative thoughts to the back of my mind as I try and focus on getting to the classroom as soon as possible just to prove to myself he's okay and I'm just overreacting.

The four of us approach Mr. Clarke's room and I run ahead, no longer able to wait another second. I pop my head in the door and to my great dismay, he is nowhere to be seen. I take a deep breath, and stumble back, that familiar viscous feeling of a pit in my stomach. My anxiety is kicking in.

The boys look to each other in silence, all generally thinking the same thing.

'This is bad. Will would never skip. And he's not at home, so something must be very wrong.'

Before the boys get the chance to say anything, I slip away and walk quickly down the hall to the bathroom, my arms tucked into my sides defensively while my head is down. I can't be around people when it's this bad so I usually end up hiding in a stall in the bathroom, trying to calm down. The guys know I have anxiety attacks like this sometimes and I know they want to help, but they don't know how and that's fine.

When I reach the familiar stall, I slam it shut and sit on the edge of the seat and put my face in my hands as my elbows are propped up on my knees. My breathing is ragged and my eyes become soaked in tears as panic takes over my body. That familiar feeling of nausea returning. The endless 'what ifs' begin flooding my mind.

'What if he got hit by a car on his way home?'

'What if he got kidnapped?'

'What if... he's dead?'

Just the thought of never seeing my best friend ever again makes me wail. I'm rocking back and forth hugging my torso when I remember I have to take deep breaths or I might pass out. I try to remember to tell myself that I don't have all the information and that there has got to be some sort of explanation for all of this.

That it's just my anxiety talking. It's just brain noise. I just need to learn how to manage it.

It wasn't even lunch yet... The thought made all of this feel silly on some level and yet I still felt the rock sitting in my gut. Something still felt wrong.

I spend the next few minutes focusing on taking deep breathes, and after what feels like hours, I am finally breathing normally again.

I grab my bag which had been thrown to the ground during my attack and exit the stall. I stand in front of the mirror washing my hands and I look at my eyes which are now totally swollen from crying.

I reach down and splash some water on my face, and rub my eyes. Getting the remainder of the water off with a paper towel. As I look at my slightly improved reflection I take another deep breath and head to class. Pretending everything's normal and I hadn't just had a meltdown in the bathroom, as usual.

I pick up my pace as I shrug my shoulders to secure my backpack so it doesn't fall. I was lucky I was able to come down from my attack as quickly as I did because it seems I wasn't late like last time. It looks like I made it with just a minute to spare. I walk over to where the party and I usually sit. I think twice before sitting down next to Dustin.

I know at this point the boys are aware of the state I'm in judging by the looks of sympathy they are giving me. The state of my eyes and the fact I didn't take my normal seat next to Will's probably gave me away. I decided to take the seat in front of my usual so I don't have stare at Will's empty seat and be worrying all class. So as they say, out of sight out of mind. While waiting for class to start I try and think of different things to keep my mind off of Will, and my mind wanders the new Heathkit ham shack that was supposed to have come today.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers x gn!reader #will byers x gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader #stranger things x reader #st x reader #the vanishing of will byers #y/n henderson #will byers #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #jim hopper

12 notes · View notes

meenah-chan · 4 years

Text

Quintessence

A Lucifer x MC’s Over-protective! Sister fanfic

4.45k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger Warnings: mentions violence, self-inflictions; Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1: click here

Chapter 3: click here

"Is this a some sort of punishment?"

"You're really lucky... I am quite jealous, if I may say."

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

With the noisy, yellow demon unconscious, the only sound on their way to House of Lamentation is MC's periodic yawns from the lack of night's sleep and the rumbling wheels of their suitcase on an empty road.

"We're here! Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone. They should be in the dining room right now." Starting to feel the exhaustion she's been holding back since meeting the other-worldly creatures, Alexandria let her sister half-drag her off to somewhere.

"I'm home!" Pulling her to a room, the first thing she saw is a large dining table filled with food and... Five more demons. Five male demons.

"MC, we're leaving." She tugged on the female's hand, still attached on her own, but in turn resisted her slight force.

"What? No, we won't." The teen raised an eyebrow from her sudden demeanor.

"MC!! I MISS YOU!!" A brown-haired guy came rushing towards their direction with open arms. Yet, before he could even latch his arms around the girl, Alexandria pulled her away, causing the male to hug nothing but air.

"MC! Why did you avoid— Huh?"

"MC, w–who is she?" A purple-haired tensely asked, anxious of the stranger in their home.

"She's my sister—"

"Ahhh!!" Alexandria and MC flinched from the sudden outburst of the man who came running at them moments ago, which caught her off-guard.

Suddenly, her hand was yanked away from her little sister's grasp and was held a few centimeters to the demon's eyes.

"Wha... such a..." He then stretched the said arm out and tenderly stroke it up her shoulder, "What a flawless, plump, porcelain skin..." then let go and cupped her cheeks with both hands.

"Such a refined beauty. But wait..." The male narrowed his eyes for a second, "Are you not sleeping well? Your face is a tee~ny bit dry and a bit of bag under your eyes." The demon gave her a sad pout.

"I usually appreciate such flattery. However, right now, I can only sense it as an assault from a stranger I just met. So will you please refrain from your harassment?" Regaining her composure, she snapped at him.

"Asmodeus, stop harassing our guest unless you wanted punishment." Asmodeus instantly raised both his hands up from the domineering voice on the doorway. Lucifer appeared with a beat Mammon.

"Whoopsy! My bad. What a rude way to greet a wonderful guest such as yourself." Asmodeus sends her a wink before returning to his seat.

"MC, will you introduce her to everyone."

"Hmm! Everyone, meet my sister, Alexa! Due to certain circumstances, she'll be staying here with us all throughout my stay here."

"Pleased to meet all of you. I'm Alexandria Evergreen, MC's older sister. I'm here to watch over her. I hope to have a conflict-free relationship with everyone."

"No, the pleasure is ours." A blonde-haired man replied, "I'm Satan, the fourth eldest. I maybe the Avatar of Wrath but I assure you, I'm the nicest and most logical person here." But her instinct says otherwise as she felt an odd atmosphere around the green-eyed man.

"Bush e'shi, shoo shais shoo hamp 'o shibi." Her eyes travelled to the oranged-haired man who seemed to be emptying the table stuffing himself.

"Beel, you shouldn't talk while chewing." A drowsy, navy blue-haired guy yawns beside him. "MC, he means you said you have no siblings." He rubbed his eyes before turning his attention to the older sister. "Hello, I'm Belphegor, Beelzebub's twin and the youngest. I'm also the Avatar of Sloth. This guy beside me is Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony and the sixth oldest." The scarfing guy nods and she returned the gesture.

"Oh that? Yes, I don't have one back then, but our parents got married a few weeks ago. We're originally childhood friends."

"WoOAAAHH~!! That's just like the anime 'My Dearest Childhood Friend became my Sister after our Parents got Married but now the Aliens Invaded the Earth so We Became Heroes and Stop the End of the World!!' and that is really LIT!!" The demon, whom she thought was timid a while ago, squealed in one breathe, and it certainly caught her by surprise.

"That noisy one is Levi." MC sweatdropped.

"I'm Leviathan, the third oldest and the Avatar of Envy."

"And don't forget about the sweet and charming Asmodeus here~~ I'm the fifth eldest and the Avatar of Lust. You can call me Asmo-chan~~" he winked for the second time.

Yet contrary to his positive attitude, Alexandria cocked an eyebrow. "So you mean..." Her gaze followed Mammon wobbling to the table. "That crook right there is the second oldest?"

His head snapped at her. "Oi! Gotta problem if I'm the second oldest?"

"Yeah, in more ways than one." She curtly replied. "So, if you're the Avatar of Greed, you being a crook does make sense."

"Oi! You don't have to say it twice!"

Ignoring Mammon, she faced the oldest. "And you're the Avatar of Pride, I suppose?"

"Yes, and let me properly introduce myself to you." He placed a palm above his chest. "I'm Lucifer, the oldest of the seven brothers and the Avatar of Pride. I'm the one who leads this household and tend to all of these problem children." Satan, Mammon and Belphegor glared daggers towards him.

"Ha! More importantly, I have a juicy piece of news to you guys." Mammon grinned which alerted Lucifer.

"Not a word Mammon."

"'Ya see, that's no normal human right there. A few hours ago, she just made THE Lucifer on his knees and tied him in a pact with her."

The five brothers' eyes popped out of their skulls and jaws dropped. Even Beel almost choked.

"Pact... you say?" 5 pairs of eyes darted between a grinning Mammon, a displeased Lucifer and the new female.

"You're right. She's not an ordinary human but let me clear two things." The menacing red-eyed demon crossed his arms and raised his chin. "The only one on his knees, or rather, on his back is none other than you Mammon. You're the one knocked out after just three blows from her. You're also the one who caused this series of unfortunate events... Don't ever think I'm done with your punishment yet."

"Eek!" Making shrieked and cowered in fear.

"Wait– She what? I know Mammon is weak but, she really knock him out with three blows??" Asmodeus exclaimed.

"Are you really sure she's a human?" Satan added.

Although Beelzebub is also shocked, his brows twitched in realization, glancing at the two female. "MC, Miss Alexandria, you probably haven't eaten anything yet. You should eat."

"I think I'll pass. I'll get some shut-eye first." MC awkwardly laughed. Beel is pretty amazing in his own way...

"I thank you for the offer, but I also needed some rest." She slightly smiled.

Lucifer stepped closer beside her. "If that's the case, then you should stay in MC's room for now. Mammon will clean the room beside MC's for your use later."

Glancing at the oldest, she shook her head. "Providing a room for me is more than enough. I can tend to it just fine. And I can't impose to you anymore than I already did."

"But you're a guest. It's only natural for us to ensure you'll have a great time staying here."

"But I insist. And I'm not a guest. I'm the one who made my way here so it's only natural for me to help here in exchange for my stay." She paused as she crossed her arms. "Unless, freeloading is a thing here. That'll be bad, for encouraging irresponsibility and decadence."

"..." Lucifer speechlessly furrowed his brows.

Seven pairs of eyes were both shocked and amazed to see someone actually have the guts to run their mouth against one of the strongest demon in their realm without breaking a sweat.

"She really is not a human. There's no way a human can stand her ground against Lucifer." Asmodeus gaped.

"Or maybe she's just clueless of Lucifer's true power... Though I could use her help to mess with him." Belphegor and Satan snickers at the same time as if having the very same thought.

"To not even have the natural instinct to flee from danger is just dumb." Alexandria ominously glance towards Belphegor, Satan and Leviathan, causing a chill run down their spine.

"Then please excuse us. MC shall be my guide." Drawing back, she bowed towards Lucifer and the others before pulling MC and their luggage out of the dining room.

"MC... I must say, our time here will be anything but harmonious..." The older sister sighed.

"But I'm sure you'll have fun. There's no boring times here" MC just laughed awkwardly.

"Oh well, all I want is a peaceful time you. Even an hour or two a day would be nice."

-----

Forget their peaceful time, getting along with most of the brothers is hard, except Beel who is too nice to her to be considered a bother. All the other brothers do was try to steal MC away.

Well, Asmodeus is an exception. He's not trying to take MC away. He's trying take both of them away for his beauty and night out shenanigans.

A few days have passed, and she was also made into a student to be with MC as much as possible.

"Hey Alexa-chan, I'm just wondering... Is there anything you can't do? At this rate you'll end up stealing MC's heart faster than any of us. You're too dreamy, you might as well take her as your bride." Asmodeus pouts as he lazily pokes through his steak Alexandria prepared for dinner.

"O–Oi! The hell are you saying, Asmo?" A flustered Mammon yelled, sitting beside MC.

The older female sighed and glance at Asmodeus, sitting beside her. "Just eat Asmodeus, you're just hungry. And I told you to not call me Alexa."

"But aren't I right? You're so in love with her enough to follow her here. And you're not really her sister by blood, so it's possible."

"If I told you, you and Mammon look good together, you should marry each other, what would you feel?"

"Eww! That's the grossest thing I ever heard." He stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"She really hates you, lololol." Levi snickers at Mammon, sitting across him.

Mammon narrowed his eyes at him, tapping his knife on his plate.

"I never saw this child that way. I'm more like a mother to her more than anything." She points to the 'child' next to her, too busy stuffing her face with the food to notice she is the topic on the table. "Saying that, I didn't protect that child just to fall for any demon."

"Aww... And I thought it'll also be interesting if there's that kind of plot twist." Asmodeus look down, only to find his plate empty. "Hey! Beel, give me back my steak!" His eyes darts across him, towards the orange demon chewing happily.

"I thought you don't want it anymore so I ate it." He smiled innocently as Belphegor and Satan laughed in amusement, witnessing the whole theft.

Alexandria glance around the room, searching for a certain person she haven't seen since yesterday night. "By the way, where's Lucifer?"

"He's probably still in his study, it's the time of the month he have tons of work to do." Satan replied.

"He'll probably coop himself until tomorrow or the day after." Belphegor added, finishing his meal.

She gave a second glance in the table, void of any trace of any food left, sweeping to the also empty plate of her sister.

"Hmm... MC did you eat well?"

"Yes! I really missed your steak!" The teen beamed at her, having a drop of sauce on her lips.

"What am I gonna do with you." She giggled as she wipe the stain off. "Come on, you should rest for the night."

After sending her to her room, Alexandria strolls towards the kitchen and left with a tray on hand, walking towards the library.

She passed by the tall shelfs with several missing books of all sorts of fields. Going further in, she knocked on the door inside the library.

"It's Alexandria, I brought you something." Hearing no response, she let herself in.

The first thing that attract her eyes is the tall pile of paper wall on the table and the male who is almost hidden by it, black circles around his eyes.

"Are you still alive?" Lucifer's flipped towards her, finally noticing her presence.

"Ohh, it's you. What do you want?"

"You probably haven't eaten anything since this morning. I brought you some sandwiches and fruit shake." She set the tray down the small table in the middle of the room and took the plate of sandwiches and the large cup of fruit shake, moving towards Lucifer's study table.

"Here, taking a breather won't hurt." Red orbs darted between the plate, the cup and her face before reluctantly taking it after a sigh and setting it down the free space is the table.

"This is a nice study. It's cozier than mine back in human world."

"What's your deal?"

"Well, I like the fireplace. I can't have one in my apartment."

"If you need nothing, then leave. I don't have time to waste."

"Yeah, I need to do something." She took a few leaves of paper from the desk and scan through it. "Hmm... I see... As expected..."

"What is it you need to do?" Lucifer raised his eyebrow.

"I'll help you with this papers. With us two, we can finish it by morning."

"Hmmp! There's no way I'll let a human mess with the financial statements of the Devildom."

"If it's about the difference of terms and flow of currency, then I have already studied about it."

"...Huh? How..." The demon suddenly remembered the several books missing from the library's shelf. "Ahh... But then, how did you learn how to read our language?" His brows furrowed.

"There's no way I could have extensive knowledge about pacts and such if I can't read the original texts about it."

The lady in front of him never failed to impress him. And yet, "The answer is still a no." Stoic expression returned his face.

"Then let me rephrase it. My master is having a hard time," Lucifer almost slip out of his chair from her words. "...and I can do something about it, so I want help however I can."

"Did you just say 'Master'?"

"Yeah, based on our contract, you're technically my master. Though you can't take advantage of me, which is a good thing..."

Lucifer wouldn't admit it. He can't admit it. But being called master by this capable human who always amaze him has stroked his ego more than he could ever felt from anyone, he can't even stop himself from grinning.

"You really know your way with words. But don't get me wrong. I only allowed you because you've went so far just to do what you want." A smile was also plastered on her face.

"Yes Master Lucifer, if you say so." She chuckled a bit before taking the papers Lucifer choose for her to do.

Sharing a few conversation while working, they really did finish by morning as she predicted.

------

"Alexa, why aren't you in your room? Did you woke up early?"

"Yeah, something like that." With a bit of sleepiness clouding her head, Alexandria chose to eat light breakfast before taking a rest. Good thing it's weekend.

MC moved her attention at the demon on the end of the table. "Lucifer, it's really unusual. You've finished quite early."

"I just discovered a breather had been rather helpful." He stealthly stole a quick glance towards the lady busy eating her food.

The only sound on the table after that is a few yawns— from the usual sleepy Belphegor; and Leviathan and Mammon, probably from overnight gaming marathon they could never finish tonight as Lucifer is out of his confinement.

Everyone has their own world when Alexandria breaks the silence.

"MC, you told me you're hanging out with Mammon and Asmodeus today, right?" She place down her utensils as the girl glance at her.

"Yeah, we're going to shop some clothes on Majolish. Why? You're coming anyways, aren't you?"

"No. I have some business today, but I'll leave you to Beel. Is it alright with you Beel?" She scan the face of the food-loving demon whom just finished his food.

"I don't mind." He smiled softly.

"Thank you. Please do bring her safe and I'll treat you to Madam Scream's of anything you want."

"Madam Scream's...? Really? With anything I want?" Beel's eyes sparkles as drool pools down his empty plate.

She gave him a broad smile. "Yes, anything."

"Alexa, you probably don't know what you're saying. Beel will definitely bust your pocket in no time." Belphegor yawns as he took a bite on his toast.

"But I'm aware of Beel's appetite. Let's just say I'm loaded enough to feed 10 Beels for at least 1 month." She swiped a black card in air with her middle and index finger.

"Hey... Is that..." Satan raised an eyebrow.

"WOAHH!! The legendary black card! Imagine how many Ruri-chan collectibles and games I could buy with that." Sleepiness flushes out of Leviathan's system as he stared at the black card.

"Can feed... 10 Beels..." The sixth-born's drool intensifies.

"Hmm? When did you get one? You should've just asked me to process it for you." A surprised but rather unfazed Lucifer asked.

"I told you I don't want to be a bother. Though I admit getting one is not an easy task."

"Hey Alexa-chan. Are you sure you don't wanna join us shopping?" The fourth-born playfully twist her bangs around his fingers. "And while we're at it, let's have a full body Super Beauty Mud Course~"

She touched her chin in thought. "I'll think about the mud course, but not today."

But then, a demon, who should be hyper at the sight of a premium item, was rather silent.

"Hey Alexa-sama... Can I touch it?" The second-born teleports beside her, orbs sparkles gold and fingers twitching on air in a perverse way. "Please. It'll be a dream come true to hold it in my arms for even just a second."

"I refuse." She slid it back her wallet as fast as she swiped it out. "Show me first that I could trust you." She pinched the tan nose facing her, grinning.

Cherry red orbs observes the sight of the lively table, a curve tenderly forms across his face.

"O-Oi! Let go–" *Ring ring*

The sound of a phone rung through the spirited atmosphere, which wiped the smile off Alexandria's face.

Picking up the cup of tea with her free hand, she gulp it down before letting go of Mammon.

"Take care while shopping later, MC." She ruffled her sister's hair, "Thank you for the meal. Now, if you'll excuse me." ...before leaving the room.

"Then, I'll also retire for today and take a rest. Don't make a mess while I do so." Feeling tired of his restless shift, Lucifer decided to leave and retire to his room.

On his way, he heard the familiar voice of the lady behind her door, seemingly distressed.

As unethical as it seems, the oldest's curiosity of the enigmatic female wins him over and decided to stood his ground.

"I told you Father, I can't right now, that's why I'm telling you to just let me quit...... If I tell you, you'll definitely try to take me back there....... No...... Not telling......."

He could hear the series of loud sighs and frustration beyond the door.

"No, I don't want it. Brother deserves the company more than I do. So please think it over again.... Yes....... Yes, I will. Then, bye." He then heard a beep ending the call.

On the verge of stepping away as to not get caught, the next thing he heard render him motionless in place.

"I'm not even a your real child to begin with. If I continue there, I'll actually end up killing myself..." Unconsciously, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Alexandria jolts in surprise as her door opened out of nowhere.

"Wha..." Surprise was imminent on her face yet, realizing it is the first-born, her brows scrunches. "Don't you know knocking is a common courtesy?"

"What do you mean by you not being your father's real child? And what do you mean about killing yourself?" He ignores the annoyed expression of the woman. There's no way he could let this information pass under his nose. Not with this girl who made him concede more than he expected, and certainly not because of that grim words.

"What do you want?" She narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"Killing yourself is something I could not ignore. And, I want to know more about the human who have the audacity to force a pact with me." He returned the same gaze with crossed arms above his chest. They stared at each other for a few seconds before the lady yield for the first time.

"Alright. I guess as a demon who have a pact with me, you have the right to know. We are, after all, connected by soul in spite of everything... Let's go to your office or something. I don't want anyone to hear this like you did."

"Right now, Satan is probably cooped in the library. He'll certainly asked why we're together. Let's go to my room instead. It's quite spacious for someone to eavesdrop."

She followed behind the oldest brother, careful not to be seen by anyone. Entering the room without meeting anyone down the hallway gave her a sense of relief.

"Even your room is nice." She casually strolls in the room, brushing her fingertips on the bones in the pillar, the candelabra, the gramophone, and scanning a few picture frames above the fireplace.

"You may want to start your story this instant or I'll pull the words out of you by force." Growing impatient, Lucifer took a sit at an angle on the corner of his bed, arms drapes his chest again.

With another sigh, she sat on the length of the bed partially behind the man, placing both her palms on the bed as she face the furnace.

"Too eager, aren't we?"

"Unlike you, I want to take a rest." Alexandria chuckled of his remark.

"It's true I'm not a real child of the current family I'm in. I am adopted after all." Her Aquamarine eyes glows a hue of orange as she stare at the dancing fire in the furnace. "It's no secret to MC. I did met her in an orphanage after all.."

"She's a volunteer that time when we're still young. Is that good enough? Am I off the hook already?"

"No. That doesn't answer my second question. You're still hiding... something." The strained smile he witnessed on her face almost made him regret continuing his statement.

"Is this a some sort of punishment?" A self-reproachful laughter rings the room, "You're good with picking your card if it is."

"You can say that. But I'm also curious of you."

"Yeah, yeah... But it'll be a long story. Is it alright with you?"

"I have the whole day available. And you?"

"I also have nothing to do. I just gave MC a sister-free day or she'll get tired of me."

"Then, continue your story." He moves facing the same fireplace.

"Ahh, right... If I remember correctly, the Great Celestial War... It's a conflict within your family, right?"

Lucir flinched from the sudden question. "...Why did you ask?"

"I just thought we may have the same sentiment... or maybe not."

"..."

"Anyways, MC knew nothing about what I'm going to tell you, so it's our secret, okay?" She waited for his reply before continuing.

"You see, I also have a big family. I'm the oldest with my six, adorable siblings. They're 3 set of twins. Amazing, right?" She smiled at him, softly.

"We're living a normal, happy life. I'm really satisfied with our big family I feel it to last forever... Or so I thought." The softness in her face disappeared into a grimace. Colors in her eyes disappeared as she travel back to time.

"I was 9 at that time when that night happened. It was freezing I couldn't feel my fingertips. Snow was falling hard when I witness everything."

"Unlike that fire, the place was rather cold and dark. My struggling brother's neck in his bare hands, my limp and beaten mother trying to pry him away from my brother, the bloody corpses of my 3 sisters, my 2 other brothers writhing in pain... and that sickening smile on my father's face." She spat, grabbing Lucifer's comforter with her fist. Lucifer watched the scorching flame reflected in her eyes as if it's her own.

"There's no way I could ever forgive him for what he have done..." She rid of her shoes and hugged her legs, facing Lucifer as she lay her cheeks on her knees. "Like how I could never forgive myself for what happened."

"Forgive yourself? That's a foolish way to put it. You didn't do anything wrong."

Bluish orbs draw itself towards his own as she gave him a bitter smile. "You can say that because you don't know everything."

"Then tell me what I don't know."

"Let's just say that a drive to protect MC and a drive to live are two different things. And I've been searching for the latter to no avail."

"You're really lucky to still have your brothers. I am quite jealous if I may say." She wore her shoes again and amble her way to the entryway. "It seems like this is as far as I could tell you right now. Maybe I'll continue it next time. If you'll excuse me." She bowed before closing the door.

In contrast, Lucifer couldn't utter another word. Perhaps it's because of the pact above his chest which connects them, but he felt his heart ache slowly since she started telling her story.

And right now, he feels an unbearable pain. An unbearable pain as if he's reliving his own scars.

He stared at the same scorching fire, and as though imitating her, he tried imagining the grief he have felt of losing someone dear.

"...lucky, huh... I guess I really am..." Clutching the fabric above his chest, he felt a pang of guilt from his curiosity.

If anyone asks if I hate Mammon for bullying him here too much— the answer's no. In fact, he's my # 2 (sometimes # 1 coz Luci). I really love him and his dorkiness! But he's just so adorable when he's flustered that I end up picking on him a bit too much (maybe that's also the reason why I love Luci and he's my first if not because of my occasional Mammon hype).

Anyways, it's a good thing I posted it now. I've been proofreading it for the umpteenth time cause I don't have any friends to ask nor share sentiments with the Obey Me Fandom (sad life of an otaku). I have many revisions but I'm quite satisfied with how it turns out again. UwU

And I didn't even noticed it's already 3 a.m. so I'm gonna peace out now~~

Chapter 3

MASTERLIST

21 notes · View notes

one-boring-person · 4 years

Text

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Ten)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: blood, mentioned death, injury, gun violence

Context: The SRS have finally arrived, in time for Halloween.

A/N: This is a little bit late, but it's slightly Halloween themed, so I hope that it's still alright! Spot the reference I "accidentally" left in there😉😅

Masterlist

Eerie music plays from hidden speakers as the costumed crowd ambles by, children screaming and laughing as scare actors jump out at them, the variety of zombies, witches and mummies, not to mention vampires, too, astounding, movie characters and even some book characters making appearances around every turn, familiar and unfamiliar lines being spoken to cheerful bypassers. Painted masks and faces litter the mixed throng of people, the twinkling, orange-cast lights throwing the crevices of each visage into sharper definition, ghoulish grins becoming longer, twisted grimaces becoming even more painful, the many slashers roaming the Boardwalk now covered in a blacker blood than before, each fake knife, axe and machete lathered in the stuff. A sickly sweet odour lingers in the air as sweets and chocolate are passed around, often accompanied by a smoking joint, or sachet of some other high-class substance, the strong reek of sweat providing an unpleasant undertone as the stifling costumes heat their wearers despite the late October chill.

As a child, I used to love Halloween. There was always something enchanting about it: you could become anything, or anyone you wanted for the night, and no one would question you on your choice, or look at you oddly because everyone was doing the same. A cheery atmosphere always seemed to hang over the annual event, the leading pumpkins that glittered along the streets and the creative decorations building up the necessary excitement over the weeks before the 31st; a fun game of mine had been to run down the streets of my hometown and count every pumpkin we could see, separately, and see who had the highest tally at the end of the day. Once the winner had been decided, they'd get first dibs on the treats handed to us at each door when we later went Trick-Or-Treating, a rule which drew many arguments to the table when we eventually compiled our loot.

Now, as I watch the roaming children, all I can think of is how easy it is for the supernatural to wreck havoc on this night, given that the spiritual veil is much thinner than usual, and no one suspects anyone of the authenticity of their outfit until it's too late. On his night, the SRS always have their hands full, meaning everyone is deployed, not just the normal Hunters: the retired Soldiers still capable of fighting, Clean-Up teams and A.R.O (Aftermath Recon Operatives) Soldiers all made to help out with the bloody massacres that occur all over the country. The holiday has a morbid side that no one sees, and there's always a high body count the next morning.

Beside me, Marko pushes and shoves at people that come too close, the vampire loudly criticizing any costume made to look like his species, his "improvements" just a little too specific to be joking ones, not quite realising that I'm not listening to him. Instead, I'm scanning the crowds, looking out for the tell tale uniform and tactics used by the SRS Clean-Up teams, eyeing any suspicious person keenly until they prove to me they aren't a threat, often earning me harsh stares from their companions. The two of us look out of place in our "normal" clothing, neither of us dressing up, as we forgot that it was, in fact, the 31st, meaning a costume would've provided a good disguise in case we do come across any dangers. Even as we walk, I bite at my lip, feeling very exposed in my current state, my fists clenching at my sides as I try to stop myself from fidgeting too much, knowing that a nervous disposition is a great disadvantage in a fight, should one break out.

"Hey can we get something to eat? I kinda want some food." Marko suddenly asks me, not waiting for my reply as he pulls me over to a nearby sweet stand, the vampire excited by the prospect of buying the sugary treats.

Uneasy, I stand and turn back to the crowd, watching each face closely, my gut starting to feel odd as I notice something odd about a certain few members of the crowd. Eyes widening in realisation, I grab the back of Marko's coat and drag him away from the stand and into the alley behind it, ignoring his protests as I clap a hand over his mouth.

"Be quiet." I command him in a low voice, giving him a warning look as I slowly take my hand away from his mouth.

"What are you doing?" He hisses at me, eyes narrowed.

"They're here." I respond, looking out at the crowd as I try to figure out what to do, thinking over my options until I notice that someone has spotted us over here; someone who I've already identified.

As I watch, they start to make their way over to the stand, casually wading through the people around them as they try to look inconspicuous, though the mere sight of them makes my pulse hitch.

Thinking quickly, I grab the front of Marko's jacket and pull him closer, pressing my back to the wall as I lean closer to his face, ignoring his shocked expression.

"Kiss me, quick!" I order him, wrapping my hands around his neck as he splutters slightly.

"What?"

"Do it!" I growl, pulling him closer.

Still shocked, the vampire leans in and presses his lips to mine, carefully kissing me until I yank on his hair, silently asking him to be a little more rough, to which he responds by shoving me harder into the wall, his hands gripping my hips much tighter. Groaning slightly, I momentarily forget why we're in this situation, letting myself enjoy the rough kisses as he ravishes my mouth with his tongue, only opening my eyes again to look briefly over his shoulder at the Boardwalk, noticing that the person is no longer there. Knowing this, I let the kiss come to its natural end, before pulling away.

"Thanks..." I say, awkwardly, blushing as he reluctantly lets me go, the vampire clearly wanting more as he allows his hand to linger at my hip a little longer than necessary.

"No problem." He wipes his mouth, grinning at me as he regains his composure, "What did you need it for?"

"One of them was coming over here, and it was the first thing I could think of." I admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Right." Marko lifts an eyebrow, smirking, "How did you know it was one of them?"

I laugh, dryly, gesturing with my head for him to follow me back out into the crowd.

"Well, back in New Orleans, the head of the SRS realised one Halloween that our Soldiers need a disguise for this particular night, without being too conspicuous, so that they fit in but can also be recognised by each other. She decided that the mask of a plague doctor would be fitting. She said it works for us, because we're ridding the world of a "plague", just as they were." I roll my eyes, "Obviosuly, this makes them very easy for me to spot them, seeing as I used to dress up the same way."

"Oh, right." Marko nods, understandingly, evidently sending some mental explanation to the rest of the vampires, who are stationed around the Boardwalk.

"You can tell them apart, because they have a golden cross engraved just below the right eye on the mask, so we don't get mixed up with others." I clarify for him.

"Good to know." He frowns, "Did you say she decided? As in the head of the SRS is a girl?"

I nod, a little annoyed by the question, but knowing where he's coming from.

"Yep. Her name is Valentine Fletcher. She's the best fighter we've ever had and has the largest body count of all. Not even the Generals around the world come close to her efficiency, she's just too good. I've met her once, and she was also one of the most stuck-up princesses I've ever come across."

"I guess that's why she's the leader, then." Marko chuckles, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

"Excuse me." An unfamiliar voice interrupts us, a hand placing itself firmly on my shoulder as I turn around to face the person. My heart drops as I take in the eerie black beak-shaped mask, the golden cross glittering under the right eye as they catch the lights, the cloaked figure keeping a strong grip on my arm.

"Can I help you?" I ask, getting ready to run as Marko notices the cross, too.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could come with me." The Soldier says, though the tone in her voice is much more demanding, informing me that there is, in fact, no choice.

"I'd rather not." Without a second thought, I slam my arm into her elbow, snapping it inwards as she lets out a surprised cry, allwoig me time to duck under her and and push past her, sprinting away into the crowd with Marko hot on my heels.

Five loud gunshots sound behind us, the Soldier having shot at us with a hidden gun through the crowd, screams and shouts of fear and panic suddenly tearing through the air as the atmosphere suddenly becomes too real, the bullets smashing into the ground behind the two of us terrifying the costumed Boardwalk-goers. Instantly, the crowd around us starts pushing and shoving each other, the heaving current of people now pushing us along as they scramble to get to safety, arms flailing and legs kicking as they go, slowing our progress significantly. Growling in frustration, I pull Marko to the side, intending to reach the alley again, wincing when there are two more shots behind us, though I make it to safety without a scratch. It's only when I hear Marko's laboured breathing that I realise he wasn't so lucky.

"Shit, Marko, are you going to be alright? Can you keep moving?" I ask him, being to figure out where he was shot as he starts to sway on his feet, eyes drooping closed as the pain starts to eat away at him. Grimacing, I swiftly scan the area, spotting a large bin a little way away, which I drag him over to.

"Get in there and close the lid, you'll be safe." I tell him, opening it and giving him a leg up into the reeking interior, helping him settle as quickly as I can, before I go to move again, "I'll be back."

With one last look at him, I firmly shut the lid and start running down the alley, taking as many winding corners as I can, hoping to throw them off as I start to hear pounding footsteps behind me, shouts and calls seemingly coming from everywhere as I start to breathe harder, my pulse pounding in my ears. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, giving me the speed I need to get away from my pursuer, the air rushing harshly into my throat as I turn down another backroad.

A sudden gunshot, followed by a spike of agony in the back of my knee brings me to the floor, my body crashing into a discarded car as it rolls awkwardly to a halt, groans of pain swiftly starting to leave me. Gripping at the new wound on my leg, I try to force myself upright again, only to be kicked back to the ground again by a cloaked figure, who keeps kicking until I'm cowering on the ground, blood pouring down my face. When they are finished, they reach down and force me into a standing position, half-dragging me out of the alley and to the car park conveniently placed by the mouth of the road, where a circle of similarly clad people are waiting, the forms of three kneeling people visible in the dim light of the streetlights. Pulling me over to them, my attacker throws me to the ground in the centre of the circle, manhandling me onto my knees, drawing a small cry of pain from me.

Looking around at the three kneeling people, I feel my heart stop as I instantly recognise them: David, Dwayne and Paul, the three of them bloodied and beaten, burn marks littering their faces from the holy water that was most likely used on them. Horror and guilt flood me as I see them, David's head coming up so he can make eye contact with me, his blue eyes filled with hate and anger.

"Are we all here now?" Someone asks, their voice unfamiliar to me.

"No, there is one more." A voice calls from a little way away, Marko soon being forced onto his knees beside Paul as he is dragged into the light. The vampire is pale now, dark circles appearing under his eyes as his vampiric features break through, his body trying to keep itself from shutting down as he slowly bleeds out, the bullet wounds still oozing the crimson stuff out onto his shirt.

"Ok, that's everyone, we can get started." The person speaks again, this time sounding more decisive.

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n), you have been arrested for conspiring with the enemy, and for shooting a senior officer, willingly, instead of a vampire that was held hostage. Do you accept these charges?" Someone else says, the voice somewhat familiar, though I don't remember where from.

Knowing it is pointless to resist, I lower my head to my chest and reply.

"I do."

"And you are aware of the punishments that these crimes bring upon you?"

"I am."

"And they are?"

I take a deep breath, my muscles tense as I try to ignore the pain in my body.

"Execution on the sight of capture." I recite robotically, knowing them well.

"Good, you remember some form of honour." They sneer, before addressing the rest of the gathered Soldiers, "Are there any volunteers among us who would like to carry out the deed?"

"I do." My blood runs cold at the sound of the voice, my head lifting to look up at the Hunter that has stepped forwards.

"Elijah Forsyth, you wish to perform the necessary execution of (Y/n) (Y/l/n)?" The first speaker questions, confirming the name to me even as they take off their mask.

Instantly, the cold blue eyes lock with mine, the dark-haired Hunter giving me a poisonous look as he limps over to me.

"I do."

"Then it shall be so. Do what you must."

With those words, Elijah steps over to me, drawing a gun from his belt and cocking it deliberately, maintaining eye contact as he lowers it to my forehead.

As the weapon is brought to my skin, I keep my chin up, refusing to feel bad about the actions that brought me here in the first place. Without a word, I accept the fate that will befall me.

Part Eleven

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla #marko(the lost boys)#star(the lost boys)

49 notes · View notes

everydaychaotic · 4 years

Text

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. "

Charlie x Reader Fic

a/n: i used a writing prompt here because there were some prompts i found on my phone. they're from creative-writing-prompts on tumblr (?) omg enjoy 💕

Word on the street is all about this Charlie Dalton. All the girls in your school can't seem to shut up about him, this guy from Wellton who pulled an infamous stunt in front of everybody.

"Have you heard about what happened at Wellton?"

"God, that Charlie has guts."

"He's single right?"

All this gossip annoyed you. Either they applaud his not-so-daring feat, or they suddenly fancy him. Apparently, this boy has become popular here and you never understood why he would do something so stupid.

You're a real stickler for the rules, future mapped out and planned for, and you always had this thing where everything should be in order. Charles Dalton, that jerk, just disrupted the peace and order you have been accustomed to by turning these girls into boy crazy and lovestruck little girls. His name made your blood boil and it made you lose focus. They never seem to get enough of him, and that's probably because there aren't really a lot of options in boarding school.

Wherever you went, his name would always pop up. Whoever you talked to would ask if you knew. You would roll your eyes and tell them they're wasting time on someone who isn't even worth it. This boy was getting into your nerves, and (rumor has it) another girl's knickers.

There came a time you just couldn't take it anymore. Even your best friend was talking about him with a mix of amusement and disappointment. She thought this boy had potential but wasted it on a foolish prank. Both of you shared the same sentiments, although your friend was obviously intrigued.

You had a lot of homework to do, and with everything that was going on, you decided you didn't have time for this. You sigh loudly and throw a pillow at your friend, exasperated. "Hey!" she said as the pillow hit her face. "What was that for?"

You turned to her, annoyed and stressed from all the homework and drama. Your roommate raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. "I'm getting tired of this— this boy!" you tell her and she stifles a laugh.

It wasn't funny, and then she replied, "Who knew that the great y/n would lose focus over a boy?" You ignored her and went back to your homework. There was still so much to do with calculus, and you haven't checked on your science project yet. Your French essay is due tomorrow and it isn't near perfect. You didn't let the idea of Charlie Dalton get to you.

Days went by and the chatter started to lessen. You smiled to yourself, everything was slowly going back to normal. Your focus was back, and nothing else seemed to interrupt it. Right now, everything is perfect for you. Back on the right track to be one of the country's most esteemed lawyers.

Everything was almost back to normal, you hardly even thought about him, and no one

had any more stories to tell about the infamous little pick who caught St. Agnes' by storm. One fateful day, he was once again the talk of the town. Rumour has it, he went out with one of the girls from her class. People kept on talking, asking this girl to tell him about Charlie. All of them would pile around her, and ask if he was what they dreamed he would be like.

You thought it was all rubbish. Charles Dalton? You bet he got under her skirt. Your classmate's story about him being the perfect gentleman was too good to be true. There's no such thing as a gentleman, and you believed Charlie was far from that. People see what they want to see, and you thought this girl just let heard what he wanted her to hear. Quite stupid, you thought.

One day as you were walking around the courtyard, book in hand, you caught sight of him. The infamous Charlie Dalton, in the flesh. You couldn't deny he was handsome. There was an air of arrogance around him, and a hint of brilliance to which you were so. curious about. He was with a different girl, and he gave a smirk you knew all too well that he was up to no good. He dropped her off at the dorms, and you shook your head in disappointment. You saw this coming, but in the back of your mind you always hoped it wasn't true.

He passed by you, and smiled. His brown hair all messed up, with eyes that always twinkled with mischief and chaos. "Hi," he said to you. You gripped your book tighter and ignored him, walking away. Charlie always liked girls who played hard to get. He found the chase to be rewarding. He turned around, "I didn't catch your name."

You muttered something, and continued to walk towards the dorms. There were footsteps following you, and you tried your best to ignore him as he tried to get your attention. "Did you just say your name? I didn't get it the first time." He caught up to you and went ahead. There he was, facing you: Charlie Dalton of Wellton Academy.

You decided to be blunt and said, "I didn't, and no, I'm not telling you." You sighed, "I was asking you to leave me alone." He wasn't taken aback by this comment, after all, it was part of the chase, and Charlie enjoyed every second of it.

"If you say so," he said sarcastically. He is so infuriating, you thought. You looked him in the eyes and you were inwardly fazed by how beautiful he really was up close. You always hid your emotions well, and you certainly didn't want to break that wall in front of this jerk.

"Did I stutter?" you replied coldly. You took a deep breath and once again told him to leave you alone. He chuckled and told you, mocking defeat, "Whatever you say, sweetheart." He waved at you and went on his way. Charlie was amazed, and decided he was gonna try harder than usual. That meant he absolutely had to, because most of the time they just came onto him.

You thought about this encounter for a considerable amount of time, and sometimes wondered if you were to see him again. You were working on your english homework until someone on the phone asked for you. You hate being interrupted, and it annoyed you to drop whatever you've been doing for something so irrelevant. Begrudgingly, you grab the phone and put it to your ear, rolling your eyes. "Hello?"

"Hello to you too, y/n," the sound of his voice made you mad. You tried to keep it together, your friends were watching. You couldn't lose control now, it would guarantee him victory. You whispered, "You're not supposed to call."

"Well sweetheart I did, now y/n, tell me, what are you doing Saturday night?" You ignored the question and said, "How did you get my name you jerk?" You heard people laughing from the other line, who were teasing Charlie. "I asked for a pretty girl and they led me to you," he slurred. For a moment, you felt flattered, but mostly embarrassed. That was officially the worst line you have ever heard.

"Shut up. Now if you don't have anything important to say, I'm hanging up now." You put down the phone and went back to your schoolwork. You can't afford to have any more distractions, especially a Dalton-shaped distraction.

Almost every night, he would call, and like always you would give the phone back, telling everyone you absolutely had no time for this. This boy was persistent. You tried your best not to lose your temper in front of your friends and classmates. That rarely happened. You're y/n, and he isn't your Waterloo.

The day you've been waiting for came. Charlie stopped calling. You thought he got bored and latched himself onto another pretty thing. You were a bit hurt, to know he was exactly what you thought he was but it worked best that way, and you were starting to feel normal again. He wasn't the talk of the town anymore, and that alone gave you the motivation to do everything on your to-do list.

You went out to the courtyard for a stroll and brought your favorite book along. Your eyes widened when you saw him. Messy brown hair with everything undone. There he was again, and he looked like he was waiting. You continued to walk towards your favorite spot in the courtyard, made yourselg comfortable and started to read. "Hey y/n," Charlie said. At that moment, you wanted your soul to leave your body. You closed your book and looked up, "To what do I owe this unwanted encounter?" There was sarcasm dripping in your voice and Charlie raised an eyebrow in amusement. He ignored your comment and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

You didn't answer. He sat down next to you and looked at what you were reading. "Shakespeare, huh? You've got good taste," he commented. You smiled a little, and felt better that this boy, even for a moment, stopped pestering you. You were a bit glad you at least had something in common, and relieved he wasn't just a prick. He was a brilliant prick who knew his stuff, and you were somehow attracted by this.

You just sat there in silence for the whole afternoon. You were immersed in your book, and all Charlie did was stare at you. The silence was endearing, and you stopped only to find him sleeping. You swore he became more attractive. This boy is beautiful, and when it hit you, you started to think about everything you worked for only to be disrupted by him. You pat his arm gently, trying to wake him up. It was getting late and you had to catch up on your study group tonight.

He blinked a few times and stood up, offering you his hand. You took it and he smiled, looking away. He earned it, you thought. "My friend Neil's performing tomorrow at Henley Hall, and since you love Shakespeare so much, bet you'd try to take a look at it," he said finally.

Shakespeare was your favorite poet, and it's been so long since you've watched a Shakespearean play. It was a hard offer to consider. If you accepted, you would be going with him, and that would make it seem like a date. "I guess you can call it a date," he drawled.

You pondered over it as he walked you back to the dorms. Annoying as he was, he knew how to get a girl's attention, and you were no exception. You didn't answer him, and told him how you were running late instead. You felt his hand on your shoulder, turned you around, and once again there you were: face to face with Charlie Dalton. This time, you couldn't help but feel flustered, and it was evident. He smirked a little bit, and that alone shifted your mood. One moment he was charming, the next one a jerk. You moved away and muttered a curse under your breath. "Come on, I saw that, y/n," he pointed out. "Admit it, you like me."

Once again he was this conceited bastard. You didn't know which was more annoying: his behavior or the fact you were attracted to this boy. You pursed your lips and tried not to lose your temper. Charlie just stood there, waiting.

"Silence means yes, you know," he smiled. You rolled your eyes, and started to lose the cool façade you had going on. "You know what, Dalton? Do whatever you want."

"You're insufferable, and I can't believe I spent an afternoon with you! You're a jerk, and you're too conceited for your own good," you said with so much frustration. "I'm not someone you just plan to fool around with, and I'm sure there's another girl waiting for you to sweep her off her feet. And just so it's clear, I'm not that girl, and I don't want to be that girl." Charlie just stood there, listening.

"You know it's a shame. You've wasted so much time and energy on me, and it's endearing and flattering, and I'll admit you're quite attractive, but you're so goddamn infuriating! And guess what? I could kiss you right now." You ran your hands through your hair, frustration and annoyance rushing through you. His eyes widened as he heard the last thing you said. You realized it was too late, and it's undeniable. Charlie Dalton was so damn attractive and you can't believe it worked on you.

He put his hands in his pockets, and smiled at his feet. You were a blushing mess, and his smile wasn't helping at all. He pulled you in and finally replied, "You're very welcome to do it."

38 notes · View notes

darksaphire2002 · 5 years

Text

How Leo Loves HC (part 3)

Hey y'all! Here's part three of Leonardo's romance headcanons! I'm so freaking tired right now, you have no idea how hard it was to finish this set. Oh well, enjoy!

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

(This set is focused on the trial and errors Leo faces while he seeks to confess his love for you. And let me tell you, I didn't make it easy for him lol.)

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

•Setting aside his lingering thoughts on the possibility of rejection, Leonardo decides to brainstorm ideas on how to confess to you.

•What did he know about you that would help him get a leg up on success?

•You were smart, gentle, beautiful, kind, funny, beautiful, motherly to Mikey, a good friend to April, beautiful....

•Getting off topic.

•Starting over.

•He wracked his brain for hours trying to come up with ways to convey his feelings for you.

•It can't possibly be this hard to tell someone you love them, can it?

•No. Telling someone you love them isn't difficult.

•Telling someone you're IN love with them is excruciatingly difficult.

•He meditates to relieve some of the clutter from his mind.

•It doesn't help much.

•Months go by without a decent idea. This is a nightmare.

•Finally a moment alone!

•"Y/N, you know I...I love!....I loved that book you lent me last week. It's awesome."

•He flubbed it.

•Leo paces in his room and mutters harshly to himself under his breath. He can't stand how cowardly he is.

•He tries again with a candlelight meditation session, knowing full well that you'd be nearby. You almost always were at that time.

•Fate intervenes. You had to stay late to work today.

•A frustrated grunt catches the ear of the ever watchful Splinter, but like every other time, he says nothing. The rat has faith in his son, but he knows that only Leo can forge his own path when it comes to matters of the heart.

•Days go by, nothing changes.

•Leonardo tries multiple times on the spur moment when an opportunity presents itself.

•Every attempt fails and could only be described as "pathetic."

•His confidence is shaken. He grows to quietly hate himself all over again.

•You're so perfect, and gentle, and kind...and beautiful.

•So very beautiful.

•Why was he even trying to confess to you!? Even though you were friends and you didn't treat him any differently than you would treat a regular human, there's no way you could ever possibly reciprocate such a deep, and desperate love.

•He gives up. And for the first time in his life, he doesn't resist his failure.

•Why would he? It was obvious from the start that such a heartfelt endeavor was a hopeless folly. This was how it should be. Humans aren't meant to fall in love with...whatever the hell he was.

•He abstained, and put it out of his mind. Put you out of his mind.

•Everything continued just as it had since the day they all met you.

•No more confession attempts.

•No more emotions.

•He spent less time with you and it got easier as the days went on. He had resisted the things he desired in the past before, and in time, he overcame his urges for it.

•He can do it again.

•In a few weeks, things had returned to normal.

•He stopped following you on dates. He no longer watched you from your window. He no longer listened to your breathing as you slept.

•It was over.

•The lair had once again gained some sense of normalcy. And it lasted for several months.

•Until you were late coming home from work. You had phoned April saying that you had had a hard day and weren't going to be joining them.

•There had been a major car accident outside the store where you worked that day. People had died. Children had died. It was all over the news and police scanners.

•He had worried for your safety, they all did, but those fears were set aside after you had called to tell them you were alright.

•He could hear it in your words though. The slight hum of added weight behind your tone of voice.

•You weren't alright.

•Within minutes, he was on your balcony. It wasn't hard to slip away from the lair unnoticed. All he had to do was say he was going to meditate and the others wouldn't bother him. On top of that, you lived relatively close to the lair. He could be there and back within a half hour. Nobody would even notice he was gone.

•Splinter noticed.

•He gently tapped at your window.

•No response.

•Leo slipped in cautiously, glancing around for you.

•He found you in the kitchen chopping vegetables. There was a short glass of brown liquid perched next to you on the counter and a quarter empty bottle of tequila on the dining table.

•You had been drinking.

•He eyed you silently for a moment. He had been quiet coming in, but he made enough noise for you to discern his presence. You knew he was there.

•It wasnt long before he noticed your reflection in the kitchen window. Your shirt was completely stained with blood.

•"Y/N!"

•"It's not mine." You said softly.

•There was a dullness to your voice that made Leo's heart sink. He knew that feeling. The pain that comes from having to watch people suffer when you know there's nothing you can do about it.

•He was feeling that same pain in that very moment as he watched you.

•Without a word, his arms were around your shoulders, his face in your hair.

•"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I won't leave you tonight." He murred softly against your ear.

•You cried. Leo could feel your core shaking. You faced true horror today, and you faced it alone.

•He would not leave your side tonight. He would not abandon you a second time.

•Leo reached down and gently freed the cutting knife from your stiff grip. Your knuckles were white. You had been clutching the handle so tightly that you hand had gone cold.

•He turned you slowly to face him.

•You wouldn't meet his gaze.

•He could plainly see the tear stains on your cheeks and the redness in your eyes. You looked horrible.

•...and so very beautiful.

•Cupping your face in his large hands, he lifts your gaze to meet his.

•There was no light behind your eyes. You were completely checked out.

•A morbid flurry of sorrow, concern, understanding, and guilt washed over him. If he hadn't turned his back on you, you might have come to him to grieve instead of locking yourself up in your kitchen with only a bottle of liquor for comfort.

•His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you. The soft tresses of your hair ghosting over his fingers.

•"There were children lying in the street. I couldn't-....I tried." Your voice was hoarse and weak from crying.

•Leo's gut twisted. He didn't know your sweet voice could sound this way. So broken.

•He shifted slightly "I know. You don't have to try anymore, Y/N. It's over now."

•His lips were on your eyelids, gently kissing them closed.

•You leaned slightly into his touch for a moment before completely slumping against him. All the strength you had left in you suddenly nonexistent.

•In an instant, you were in his arms, your head buried in the crook of his shoulder.

•He moves you to the living room, laying you down gently on the couch before taking a seat next to you on the floor.

•He softly strokes your back, a calm silence overtaking the room. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from the kitchen down the hall.

•You breathed softly, and it reminded him of a time several months prior when he would sneak into your room at night and listen to you sleep.

•He remembered how that felt. So desperately wishing to be near you that he would betray his own honor to be by your side while you dreamt.

•It overcame him.

•"Y/N."

•"..Hnn?"

•"I love you."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

HOLY SHIT THIS WAS A TOUGH ONE!!

I'm a little disappointed that it reads like more of a fic than a HC, but I still really like how it turned out.

I just couldn't see Leo's confession as a spur of the moment thing OR a planned out affair. Leo doesn't do cheap moments. I wanted it to feel natural. I hope you guys liked it!

💙💙💙💙💙

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

#tmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #head canon #prompt #writing prompt #darksaphire2002

53 notes · View notes

wr1t3-my-wr0ngs · 4 years

Text

Good Soldiers- Chapter 2/4

Remembering Yesterday’s Tomorrow (In the Here and Now), Part 4 Cont.

After hours of thinking, he has a plan. Not a good one, but this is Umbara he reminds himself, no plan is a good one, only some that have fewer casualties.

If he's honest with himself, he's not sure if this will have fewer casualties or not.

It occurs to him that he could just kill Krell (he refuses to even think of him as a General), and save everyone pain. As an idea it's extremely tempting. But if this is real — and he still has his doubts, but if it is— he needs to be smart. Can't let his uncertainty in his reality keep him from action. Otherwise, he knows he will get nowhere, knows that not being smart will get him a court-martial, or worse.

So, no. Killing Krell isn't an option, not at this point.

Getting dressed is something of an experience. He's done it hundreds of times, knows the motions by heart — almost on autopilot, which is his saving grace as he deals with the competing signals that say this is normal and this is wrong. He'd forgotten what it was like to have knees that didn't hurt with every step, forgotten how much smaller he was. Not that he has any shame over how he changed with the years, not the hair loss, or the aches, or the extra weight. He got old, was one of the few clones who did, and there's a lingering sense of guilt attached to that, but not shame.

It's with reluctance that he slips off his ring and carefully adds it to his tags around his neck. But it's for the best, he's already planning to change things, and the last thing he needs is to raise suspicion. Nor does he want to lose it in the field, where the odds of finding it in the crushing darkness of the planet are close to impossible.

For all that it's a simple band of steal, after two years of wearing it, he feels naked without it on his finger.

It's both hard and easy falling back into the role of clone captain; he catches himself at times about to say something, only to realize that what he wants to reference hasn't happened. Not yet. But at the same time, details are right there for him to grasp. Rules and battle strategies and conversations he hadn't known he had forgotten sit at the surface of his mind.

But there is nothing that can prepare him for the torrent of emotions he feels when he sees them again.

His brothers: alive and loud, cracking rude jokes and swapping the latest gossip.

Hardcase, who died on this planet doing the right thing because the right thing needed to be done.

Jesse, who inspires such a mix of emotions that Rex has to studiously not acknowledge them because once he does, he knows he won't be able to hold it together.

Dogma, headstrong and loyal, who Rex never saw again after he was taken away. Heartfelt sorrow rises when he thinks of the fate of his little brother.

Fives and Tup, and the tangled knot of guilt, pride, shame, and remorse that they illicit. Emotions he can't even look at obliquely, or they undo him. Not even to compartmentalize and examine later.

He's glad he has his bucket and the fraction of privacy it gives him. Especially as he makes his way to see Krell. He doesn't need refreshing on the orders to prep the troops, remembers having relayed them before he had fallen asleep. The clock is ticking. But he needs to know that he can trust his memory, trust in the reactions, and there is no better person to start with then Krell.

Being in the same room as the Besalisk makes his skin crawl, and the idea of showing him any inch of respect chafes. He stands at attention anyway; he has a part to play and will be damned if he makes things worse by blowing his cover.

The conversation goes down almost exactly as he remembers, with some changes. For one, it happens earlier, which means since he hasn't actually learned that they have cracked the Umbaran codes, he has to phrases the suggestion of using the Umbaran craft as a hypothetical — that he thinks they may be close to a breakthrough. The idea is met with all the disdain of the first time, the same feeling that the men aren't worth the mud on the Generals boots, and that the Captain is little better.

He's on his way out of the command center when the Besalisk offers one last parting blow.

"CT-7567, next time, I expect you to remove your helmet when speaking to a superior officer."

His teeth clench, and he forces himself to spit out an "Understood, General" in the most neutral voice he can manage without moving his jaw.

His blood boils all the way to the hanger, the knowledge that his memories (if that's what they indeed are) are reliable makes for a poor consolation to the dehumanization of being reduced to his number.

He tries to distract himself by running the plan over in his mind, but it feels too much like counting a casualty report before the end of a battle, daunting and setting himself up for heartbreak. So he switches tracks and focuses instead on just the next part in his plan: Getting his brothers on board.

Jesse, Hardcase and Fives — he is reasonably certain — will agree once they know that his goal is removing Krell from his position and stopping this massacre. Tup, he's aware, will take a little convincing, but the rookie has a solid head on his shoulders. Painfully shy at times, with a habit of letting others speak for — and over– him, but willing stand for what he believes in when push comes to shove.

The wildcard is Dogma (and even through his anger and nerves, he takes a moment to laugh to himself at comparing Dogma to a wild-anything). Loyal and honorable Dogma, who may not be as much of a rookie as Tup, but is still painfully young and so profoundly dedicated to the cause, he refuses to see the dark truth of the war.

It's a risk involving Dogma at all, and Rex wouldn't be surprised if he's reported for insubordination before the battle even starts. But the same something that told him to lean in and kiss Ahsoka on Endor, that told him it was his time to die, the instinct that told him that waking up wasn't a dream, is telling him that Dogma is important.

With no one else to bounce his idea off of, no experience in this specific situation to draw from, all he has is this gut feeling and the knowledge that last time, Dogma did what Rex couldn't and that it's not impossible to get the trooper to recognize the truth before it's too late.

He rounds the corner into the hanger and spots them. Instantly his hands tremble, and his breath shudders and the emotions associated with his brothers (so well buried by his anger at Krell that he had momentarily forgotten them) lodge themselves in his throat. He takes a second to compose himself because there is no way for him to face his brothers with his bucket on without arousing their suspicion. Pulling off his helmet and tucking it under his arm, Rex briefly lets his hand linger over the spot where his wedding ring rests against his chest, eyes closed, and centers himself, before plunging into the busy room.

He arrives a little late in the conversation, but it seems to have progressed the same without him. It's a relief and makes waiting for an opportunity to present itself easier.

"— 100 megaton yield. We won't even make it to the delta."

It Jesse who notices his arrival.

"Any news, Captain?"

Rex shakes his head.

"Afraid not. We are to proceed as planned."

Hardcase groans.

"Great, another suicide mission. The Capital is too well armed."

"Why does it seem like he has it out for clones?"

Tup punctuates his words with a wave of his wrench, addressing the group at large.

"I think you're all over reacting. Obviously, General Krell knows what he's doing."

Rex seizes his chance.

"That's what worries me."

He considers that he may have over-seized his chance because it's not just Dogma looking at him with open shock; he has everyone's attention. Hardcase looks equal parts proud and stunned, Jesse looks like he can't believe what he just heard, Tup is suddenly engrossed in the mechanics of the ship he's working on (but Rex can tell he's listening, he's holding the wrench backward and not really doing anything), and Dogma...

Dogma looks scandalized, but also curious.

Which...is better then Rex had hoped for.

Its Fives that concerns him, with his squint-eyed calculating look, like the Captain is a puzzle that he only just realized he's missing the pieces too. Concerning, because Rex knows how far this particular brother will go to chase a suspicion or put a mystery together.

If nothing else, it serves as a reminder to watch his words.

Hardcase, unsurprisingly, is the first to recover his voice.

"Care to elaborate?"

Rex opens his mouth, then hesitates, glancing around. The hanger is many things, open chief among them, and hardly the place for this conversation. There are too many people, too many ears around for his comfort — wants to smack himself for letting it happen in the open last time.

"Not here."

He leads them to the barracks, where they all settle in, exchanging glances when they think he can't see them (Fives hasn't taken his eyes of him once, and it's unnerving to be under such close scrutiny by this particular brother). Rex chooses to rest himself against the wall, crossing and uncrossing his arms before sighing deeply. Not sure how to start despite things going, so far, as planned.

"Well?" Jesse prompts.

"This is just talk, understand? If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, and nothing will come of it." He's not, knows he isn't, but he's walking a fine line between plausible deniability and treason and is very aware which side his next words put him on.

Everyone nods, Dogma more to show his understanding then actual condoning of whatever is about to come out of his Captain's mouth, but Rex takes it as a good sign.

"I've had my suspicions for some time now that General Krell is no longer loyal to the Republic."

Chaos, absolute chaos, erupts as soon as the words leave his lips. He's not even sure who is saying what for a moment. Despite the pressing need for both time and discretion, he can't help the swell of fondness that rises as he takes in the scene: Hardcase's shouts that he knew it the whole time. Dogma and Fives who look to be gearing up for a fist fight, leaving Jesse and Tup torn between jumping in if need be to separate their brothers and staying out of it. Its familiar, and Rex never imagined that he would miss it.

It is also incredibly loud.

"OY!"

It would be laughable if the topic of conversation weren't so serious, with how quickly everyone settles down.

"Like I said, this is just talk."

Jesse snorts, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Big talk. What do you know?"

"I've been keeping an eye on his casualty counts, his strategies, his reports, and things don't add up."

Its a half-lie, he hadn't really heard or paid much about the General the first time, only the scuttlebutt that floated around the commanding officer's gossip network. But after Umbara, Rex had dug into the Generals history, read every report, counted every brother lost because of Krell, wondered how he could have been so blind.

"For someone who claims to be dedicated to ending the war in the name of the Republic, his strategies cost the GAR deeply in terms of both manpower and credits."

It goes without saying that the two, as far as the Republic is concerned, are essentially the same thing.

"That's what I've been saying!" Hardcase says from his bunk.

"But, " and Tup sounds horrified, looks it too. "The Generals a Jedi."

"They're still just people." Hardcase points out rather magnanimously.

From the corner of his eye, Rex can see Dogma shaking his head, eyes closed, a pained expression on his face.

He wants to go over, see how the trooper is doing because he knows what it's like to have your whole world view shaken to the core, but his attention is split as Jesse starts talking.

"So, what do we do?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Fives steps forward from where he had been leaning against the opposite wall, punctuating his words with his hands. "Krell has turned traitor and is killing brothers; we need to remove him."

Dogma shoots to his feet.

"What you're suggesting is treason."

"I'm being realistic."

The two advance on each other, voices rising with each passing second.

"You're planning a coup!"

"Against a General that knowingly sends his men out to die and undermine the entire cause of this army? Yes!"

Rex darts in, physically putting himself between the two, a hand on each man's chest.

"Fives, control yourself. Dogma, take a walk."

"Sir-"

"That's an order, Trooper!"

The air is tense as the two go eye to eye, and Rex sees the moment when Dogma realizes that the Captain isn't on his side, and for a second, Rex wonders if the trooper will listen.

"Yes, Sir."

It's spoken with more vitriol then Rex had known Dogma was capable of, hissed and quiet. Everyone watches in silence as he leaves the room, exchanging glances in shock, and looking to him for direction. Rex, suddenly drained, doesn't have the energy for a proper dismissal and vaguely waves everyone off, waits for everyone to shuffle out before burning his face in his hands.

That...could have gone better. Even so, he doesn't think Dogma will report him, but only time would tell what the fallout would bring.

He's on his way out of the barracks when he meets Fives at the door coming back in, who waits for the door to shut behind him before crossing his arms and putting on his "don't give me any karking shit" face.

The Captain's heart clenches. It was easy enough to ignore his emotions when there was more than one brother in the room. But like this, face to face with nowhere to retreat to, he can feel his mask cracking.

It must show too, because Fives goes from stern to worried, arms falling to his side.

"Are you alright, vod?"

He considers lying. Secrecy, especially in his position, is paramount. He dismisses the thought rather quickly, in part because he knows he's a horrible liar. Sure, he can pull off small parts on missions when required, but there is a very good reason he wasn't assigned to the Couricanti Guard. He can't bluff for the life of him, and not even nearly Forty years' life experience had changed that.

But it's not the only reason.

Messy, tangled emotions aside, this is Fives. One of the most loyal and trustworthy brothers he has ever had the honor to know. Who has always put his brothers first, even in the most insane and ridiculous of situations. If there is anyone, anyone, that Rex could trust with his secret and not worry about being handed over for reconditioning, it would be him.

And he is incredibly tired. Not even a full day, and the weight of his secret has eaten away at him. He hasn't felt this alone since his first days on the run from the Empire — before he had found Wolffe and Gregor — surrounded by unknowns, hunted by people he considered family (they didn't stop being his brothers just because the chips were activated, and that knowledge had only made it worse).

He exhales a shuddering breath, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, and wills himself to meet Fives gaze.

"No, I'm not."

Like that, the dam breaks and he buries his face in his hands. Distantly, he's aware of being led over to the nearest bunk and sat down, of Fives gently rubbing his back through the plastoid (it doesn't do much, but the gesture is nice). He's not sure how long he cries for, but when he's done, Fives silently hands him a rag, and he able to muster a weak smile in return.

After a moment, Fives speaks.

"Want to share?"

Rex hesitates, brain still a little foggy from crying, and mentally checks over what he can and shouldn't say.

"It's...complicated."

He tries his best, details what he can in broad strokes. The end of the war, the fact they lost, him going into hiding, joining the rebellion, his death, and waking back up. He doesn't mention the chips; it's neither the time nor the place to worry about them, and he knows the moment that Fives finds out about them, he would take on that responsibility too.

When he's done, Fives is silent for a few moments, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled and pressed against his mouth. When he does speak, he looks at the Captain.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Rex nods, and sighs.

"Yeah, a lot."

"How old were you when...?"

Fives trails off, and Rex isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to say it or doesn't know how to phrase it kindly. But he knows what his brother is asking.

"When I died? Thirty-Nine."

His brother laughs.

"Should I start calling you Gramps?"

Rex groans, because if there is one thing he doesn't miss about the rebellion, it's that particular call sign, and gives Fives a playful shove.

"Respect your elders."

They grin at each other for a moment, but the light mood doesn't last.

"So, Krell's fallen?"

Rex nods, and Fives goes quiet once again. In the vacuum that the silence leaves, a question pushes to the front of Rex's mind. He's afraid to ask, not sure he wants to know the answer, but certain that he needs to.

"You believe me?"

"I don't know yet."

It hurts to hear, but he can't fault his brother, because he knows how crazy it sounds, and if the positions were reversed, Rex is sure he would feel much the same.

"But, " Fives continues, "I can see for myself that something isn't right with the General, and if you say that it's because he's a traitor, I believe you."

The ARC trooper squares his shoulders and looks at Rex, certainty and determination radiating off him.

"I'll follow your lead, Captain. What's the plan?"

2 notes · View notes

etlunainmorte · 5 years

Text

✒ P.S. I Love You ✒

***

(Y/N) and Victor's grandchild closed and locked the door after the gentlemen left. She, then, turned to look at the old wooden box which V left on the table for her. She sat on the sofa and opened the thing, revealing its contents. And when she saw the amount of photographs that were in it, the emotions flooded her chest once more. As she took the photograph that showed her grandparents' wedding charade, she simply let her tears flow freely.

Despite those tears clouding her sight, she didn't wipe them away like what she did before. Instead, she held the photograph close to her chest, imagining how happy her grandparents must be during those trouble - free times.

She turned to the side table, carefully placing the precious photograph next to the small framed picture of her one and only grand daughter who was in Paris. She, then, sighed, letting her eyes roam from her grandparents to her grandchild.

Finally lingering on her grandparents' image, she whispered, "Please keep those people safe."

"What do we do now?" Roman asked V as they made their way back towards the mansion.

"We must find the container where their souls are hidden," V answered, his voice and his sight as resolute as ever. " ... then, we'll set them free."

"What about Avery?"

"We'll prevent Lancaster from sacrificing her."

"And that monster?"

V stopped and looked down at Griffon, who was waiting for him to go back home, the metal cane, which he abandoned, still on his waiting beak. The poet didn't hesitate and took it from his familiar, who flew and landed on his shoulder.

Then, he faced the door of the mansion one more time.

"We'll send him to where he belong," He answered. " ... to Hell."

***

Both V and Roman were fully expecting something to attack them the moment they step foot inside the now dark and desolate place. However, all seemed normal.

Strangely normal, given the dire situation they were in.

"Aren't there any monsters here that would attack us?" Roman questioned, making both the poet and the familiar look at him with raised eyebrows.

"You seemed,... rather eager." V answered him as he threw his cane and caught it with his other hand.

"I - i'm not! It's just,... the silence is too suspicious. You know what I'm saying?"

The man was right. It was too quiet. "We should not underestimate our enemy." V uttered in a low voice as he took a few cautious steps forward towards the grand staircase, still half - expecting Roselle, or that still unknown creature that tried to kill Nico, to come out of the shadows and make its move. "This is Christopher Lancaster we're talking about, after all."

"Alright." Roman said as he pulled out his red handkerchief from his pocket and wore it around his head like a headband. He inhaled through his nostrils and shook his shoulders, making Griffon roll his eyes. "I'm ready!"

V only gave Avery's fiancé a sideways glance and a grin as he made his way to the second floor. At least, someone's excited to take on that Demon,...

Never letting their guard down, the Summoner, the familiar, and the human made their way towards the second floor. However, no creature of any kind made itself known, the entire floor was void of the heavy feeling that once taunted V to do suicide, but most importantly,...

... he was not being pulled into another timeline.

What,... is happening here? V thought as he led the way straight towards the accursed third room, still expecting for anything to happen or to attack them. He turned the brass door knob and pushed the door open, bracing himself for what was to come,...

"AVERY!" Roman howled as he sped past V and Griffon and made his way straight towards the center of the room where his beloved fiancée was, unconscious and tied to a chair.

"You, imbecile!" Griffon whispered, mocking at Roman's callous actions. "That evil doctor might - !"

V held out a hand before the demonic familiar could even blurt out any more insult, and made his way to where the couple was.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll get you out of here." Roman said as he tried to untie Avery from the chair. However, as V came along to help, he noticed the wounds on both of her arms, the blood that dripped from them forming something on the ground beneath their feet. And when the gentlemen gazed down at it, they drew back in fear,...

... for the blood that was flowing from Avery's wounds was slowly forming a huge crimson pentacle on the floor - a seven - pointed star that matched the illustration from the booklet of Demons that the old woman showed them.

The ritual,... was nearing its completion.

"There was a man,... from another plane of existence,"

V, Roman, and Griffon all looked at the vicinity of the desk a few feet from where they were standing and saw, in their utter fright, a strange gentleman sitting behind it, his long and bony fingers that partially covered the lower part of his pallid face intertwined, his thick, dark brows furrowed in deep contemplation.

And at the mere sight of the strange one alone, V felt all of his power leave his body at the same time his heart became heavy with utter dread, unexplainable grief, and sheer hopelessness.

It was the man, himself.

"... who once dreamed of achieving immortality and eternal glory beyond human perception." The man, whose pair of red, sinister eyes seemingly made V's blood freeze, went on. "Abducting numerous little girls and molding them into his,... idea,... of earthly perfection. This man, and a number of followers, sacrificed these innocent children, one by one, until Pandemonium, the Demon he worshipped, finally chose that one perfect vessel, a fitting equivalent exchange for the wish that was to be fulfilled. However, he made a huge and irrevocable mistake." The man uncovered his face, finally letting the men see his familiar and intimidating visage, and stood from his chair, making his way closer towards them. "The vessel's sister, an imperfect being crippled with earthly flaws, who he failed to kill, and who was, then, chosen by the Sisters Of Fate for her will to save a loved one, retaliated, setting into motion a chain of events that ultimately," The man stopped a few inches away from them, his overwhelming presence stealing their will to live and survive. " ... led to Pandemonium's downfall,... and the man's,... demise.

"But, I' am far from that foolish man." The man simply told them as he gave each of them a look that conveyed a form of overwhelming power that resided within him. "I do not wish to achieve perfection, nor do I make it out of false dreams. Bedlam has opened my eyes to the harsh reality of this world. To the ugliness of the world's truth. I vow to share this,... great blessing,... to everyone who would kneel to me."

"KNEEL, MY ASS! YOU, EVIL, INSANE GODDAMN WITCH DOCTOR!" Roman howled, blindly charging towards the man with every intent to tackle him on the ground and give him a piece of his mind before V could even stop him.

"You listen when someone older than you is speaking!" The doctor rebutted as he simply made a flicking gesture with his right hand, summoning a form of unseen power that flung poor Roman to the other end of the room, making him instantly unconscious, the impact of his landing scattering and breaking some of the old and dusty furniture that lay on the ground. The doctor, then, turned to V and gave him a challenging look. "And you, oh, foolish poet? I believe you wish to challenge me, as well."

V visibly flinched at the insurmountable force before him, yet, he still tried to face the enemy by calling upon his familiars to attack the doctor simultaneously. With utter fear etched into their very bone and core, the familiars, Griffon and Shadow, went all out with their attacks, sending lightning bolt after lightning bolt and spear after morphed spear of attacks.

And, as expected, the powerful attacks from the familiars, which were supposedly enough to bring down an entire horde of higher Demons, didn't do anything to the doctor, who only stood still and took everything without so much as a blink of an eye. The familiars took one more shot, this time, by combining their powers as Griffon sent Shadow his most powerful lightning attack, and the feline receiving the power and morphing into a set of massive spears, skewering the doctor in every part of his body and frying him alive at the same time.

For a second, they thought that they succeeded but, as soon as Shadow morphed back into her feline form looking beaten and Griffon settled down on the ground, actually looking like a worn - out wind - up toy relying on batteries to move, the doctor slowly stood up from the ground where he was beaten, his wounds healing and the tears on his clothes closing up like nothing even happened.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me!" Griffon howled annoyingly as the doctor made his way towards him, grabbing the poor bird by his wings and tearing him apart like paper, spilling his blood and guts on the floor and making him enter his stalemate state.

"Hmm, just like on that other plane." The doctor uttered to himself. And before V could even lift a finger to call Shadow back, the doctor kicked the poor feline in her mid section, successfully dismantling her, turning her back into ash and making her enter stalemate like Griffon. "That one, not so much."

With eyes wide with disbelief, teeth gritted in anger, and thoughts wild and disarrayed with panic, V hastily raised his left arm, his fingers ready for the snap that would summon his trump card.

However, the doctor proved to be much faster as he seemingly phased from his position next to the stalemated familiars to his side, steadily holding V's left arm and threatening to even break it. The doctor held up a finger, swaying it from side to side as he playfully shook his head, his sadistic smile making V feel weaker than ever before.

V, despite his growing hopelessness, made up his mind, not wanting to lose to this evil doctor. He struggled and snapped his fingers, waiting for his most powerful ally to bring down the house and finish the doctor for him.

To hell with this mansion! This evil must be stopped,... at all cost!

He waited and waited but, nothing happened.

And this only made the doctor smile even wider, the side of his lips almost reaching his ears.

V,... lost to Christopher Lancaster.

The doctor let go of his arm, letting him collapse and cower with fear on the ground. Then, after all this, the enemy simply stepped away and made his way towards Avery, who was still tied to the chair, bleeding and unconscious.

"Now, you see how benevolent I' am." Lancaster told V as he checked Avery's pulse and checked on his pocket watch like he was still a normal doctor. "I gave you the chance to play along. Allowed the both of us to settle the score. But, you have only wasted my time." The doctor hid his pocket watch and gave V a sideways glance. "I suggest you leave now. Before I change my mind."

"Ouch!" Roman winced in pain as he finally gained consciousness a few minutes later, rubbing his temples and looking around him. At the center of the room, he found Lancaster checking on Avery's pulse, and on one corner, he saw V kneeling in front of two floating, glowing orbs that weakly pulsated with dull red and blue lights. "V?" He limped his way towards his companion, only to see the utter shock in the poet's eyes.

Like he completely lost all hope and his will to keep on living.

"What happened?" Roman asked the poet, his sight darting from him to the strange orbs floating above the ground.

"We lost." The poet uttered monotonously.

"W - what?! How did we - ?"

"Lancaster,... is far too strong than what we could've imagined."

Roman's eyes widened with utter disbelief. He collapsed on the ground and placed both of his hands on V's shoulders. "You're kidding, right? Y - you're V! And you're the strongest man I've ever met! And the bravest one! You can't just lose to that evil doctor!"

The poet looked at him, his eyes suspiciously cloudy like he was in a trance, and gave him a wry smile. "This is a mistake. I should not have accepted this job in the first place. I should have ran away from the start. I should not have faced Christopher Lancaster."

And this only made Roman lose his temper. "AND WHAT ABOUT AVERY, HUH?! SHE NEEDS US!"

"She's,... lost to us."

"WHAT ABOUT NICO?! DON'T TELL ME HER SACRIFICE LED TO NOTHING!"

"As I've said, this is a mistake,... right from the very start."

"AND WHAT ABOUT (Y/N), HUH?" Roman screamed angrily at V as he shook his shoulders hard enough, hoping for the man to come to his sense. "SHE NEEDS YOU! YOU HAVE TO SET HER SOUL FREE! DO YOU WANT HER TO BE DAMNED TO HELL?! V, TALK TO ME!"

"(Y/N),... means nothing to me,..."

"FUCK YOU!" Roman swore as he punched V on the cheek. The poet's face jerked sideways with the sheer force of the mad and disappointed fiancé.

Meanwhile, V felt like his soul was floating into nothingness. He couldn't see nor hear anything. And yet, this strange voice, this achingly familiar voice, kept calling to him. He tried to follow the sound despite his blindness. He reached out, his hands wanting to grasp this familiar something,...

"I'm here, Victor." The voice told him. "Follow my voice."

"(Y/N),... ?" V called as he opened his eyes,...

... and saw the ceiling of the familiar office. Feeling numbness all over his body, he carefully sat up and gazed at the room. He was sure it was the same room, however, somehow, he felt at ease. His chest no longer felt heavy, and his whole body felt really light. A sense of calm radiated all over the place, and even the sun shone brightly and cheerfully outside.

He carefully sat up, surveying the atmosphere around him, and finally stood, his eyes darting from one furniture to the next.

Then, he heard it once more: the voice of an angel.

V opened the door and made his way towards the source of the sound, his ears wanting to feast on the lovely sound and his soul longing to bask in it. He went down the staircase, walked past the Grecian statues, and made his way directly towards the Library where he knew she was. He took a deep breath and opened the door, the light of the room blinding him momentarily and the sweet scent that was wafting from it overwhelming his senses.

And when his eyes finally adjusted to the brightness of the room, he saw her there, sitting on a stool in front of the piano, singing an achingly familiar tune he has unfortunately forgotten as she flawlessly played the simple notes. His eyes burning at the sight and his chest bursting with gladness, he slowly made his way towards her, his steps as light as they could possibly be in fear that she would vanish at the slightest disturbance.

And when he was finally so close next to her, she stopped playing and gazed up at him, a smile on her young and gentle face.

It was, indeed, (Y/N). The girl he knew from his visions. The girl who has, undoubtedly, captured his, and Victor's, heart.

The girl,...

... right before all the tragedies and nightmares in the house occurred.

"You're not supposed to be here." She told him, a hint of disappointment in her lovely (E/C) eyes.

"I,..." V began, suddenly, and for the first time ever, at a loss for his own words. "I lost,... to him."

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows, the amused smile still not leaving her beautiful and healthy visage. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

"I,... forgive me." V apologized, feeling defeated and dejected.

To this, the girl smiled tenderly and slightly moved, making a space on the stool for him and gesturing at it with her dainty right hand. "Come, sit with me." The poet did so, and the moment he was mere inches from her, his arms actually brushing against the soft fabric of her (F/C) dress, she smiled and positioned her fingers over the keys. Those adorable fingers glided on the keys once more, and a few notes in, V was taken prisoner. He closed his eyes, feeling the music overtake his mind, his heart, and his whole being.

He really wished he could stay here forever.

Forever,... with her,...

It seemed like forever, though, her playing the piano and him listening to it wholeheartedly. And when her music gradually came to a slow halt, V finally opened his eyes and let them fall on her immaculate figure.

"Heaven." V whispered softly, making her turn and look straight into his eyes. "Is this,... heaven? If so, then I would not want to go back."

(Y/N) smiled as she reached out a hand, lying it gently onto V's face. The poet grasped her hand, her warmth calming his senses and putting his chaotic soul at ease. "You have no idea how long I have waited for this. For us to be this close, to feel your touch again, to hear your voice so close to my ear." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her brows furrowing as tears drenched those long eyelashes of hers. "You have no idea,... how much I love you. I love you so much. Even after death, my heart still beats for you and you alone.

"But, you don't belong here, V." She opened her eyes, her smile turning into a frown that tore V's heart in two. "You belong with your friends, your family, with people who loves you."

V cupped her cheeks and rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling and their eyes looking deeply into each other. "I don't want to lose you, ever again."

(Y/N) closed her eyes, the smile returning to her face once more. "You never lost me. I stayed with you, and I always will. Until the end of time. But, we are both lost in this labyrinth." She took his hands and brought them down, her eyes conveying something that triggered a dormant emotion deep within V's chest. "As much as I wanted to let you stay here, I simply can't. You have to fulfill your mission. You have to set us free and save the woman from being sacrificed to the Devil. You must defeat Christopher Lancaster."

"But, I can't! I'm,... powerless against him! I - "

"You can defeat him, V." She told him, her resoluteness starting a fire inside his chest. "You have to believe that you can. He is but a mere fragment of the past animated by the Demon Bedlam to carry on an insidious mission on this world. He is but a mere puppet. And a puppet like him,... could never lay a finger on the one who believes in hope."

The moment (Y/N) mentioned the Demon's name, V felt a tremor beneath his feet, the room suddenly felt heavy, and the sun outside seemed to abruptly set.

This plane,... was starting to collapse.

Despite that fact, the girl still gazed lovingly at his eyes and held his hands, giving him all the encouragement he needed for the mission that was wiped out of his mind from the moment he admitted his lost to the evil doctor.

And now that he could finally remember everything, of Avery giving him the mission in the first place, of Roman, who supported him and stood his ground despite his own weakness, of (Y/N) and Victor's grandchild bidding them a successful return, of his familiars supporting him along the way, of Nico, who accepted him as a friend despite his flaws and their differences and did her best to help him,...

... of the woman who wrote those messages,...

... of this one girl he wanted to save,...

"The time is running out. You must leave. Now."

V stood up and took a few steps away from her. And before he could finally turn away, he felt a hand on his arm, turning him around, and,...

He closed his eyes, letting her soft lips glide against his. And for the very first and last time, V wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him and reciprocating her gesture of undying affection by showering her with the utmost passion he didn't know he possessed.

He wanted,... so very badly,... to go on kissing her like this, to show her how much she meant to him, to give her everything that life has stolen from her. To love her right then and there. But, he knew he couldn't. Her time on this world was over, her story about to end. His, on the other hand, was only beginning. And she knew this, as well. And when their lips finally parted, he felt her slid her hand on his pocket, putting something in it. She, then, broke away from his embrace and stepped away, letting her fingers glide on the smooth surface of her beloved piano one last time as the world before them started collapsing, shattering like glass, its shards and pieces falling apart one by one.

She smiled and waved her hand. "I'll see you soon, V."

"What - ?" He began but he was interrupted when he felt a hand grab him by the wrist. He turned around and saw (Y/N)'s loyal maidservant looking up at him.

"Young master, I'll help you get out of here!" She told him, dragging him along and leading the way out of the shattering plane. "This is the very last thing I will do for you. Believe in my lady's words, and you will be able to defeat him. Do everything you can to set us free. And do not lose hope! Do not lose hope! Do not - "

" - LOSE HOPE!" He heard Roman's voice as he finally opened his eyes, seeing the fiancé’s flustered and angry face. "DO NOT,... LOSE HOPE!"

V let those words sink in as he slowly got up, giving Lancaster an angry look as the doctor watched them like they were animals.

"I will not." The poet muttered, grabbing the metal cane from the floor and facing his enemy one more time. "You are just a mere puppet. A mere instrument for the Devil's machinations. And you will never,... succeed,... not today, not tomorrow,... NOT WHILE I LIVE!"

"Such fancy words for a useless man such as yourself!" Lancaster mocked, showing his sardonic smile once more.

"I'm not useless." V uttered, taking even more resolute steps towards Lancaster, his hands clutching the cane, ready to swing it at any given time. "She believes in me. I will set her free,... and send you to hell!" The poet gritted his teeth as he let out a swift hook that successfully connected with Lancaster's face, sending the shocked doctor flying towards the other end of the room.

V's eyes widened with disbelief, then looked at the bony fist that sent the doctor reeling on the ground. He, a weak Devil Hunter whose strength could never compare to the likes of both Dante and Nero, actually brought an insanely powerful maniac down to his knees!

"YES! BEAT HIM TO A BLOODY PULP, V!" Roman howled and cheered behind him as the familiars finally broke free of their stalemate state. And as Roman, Griffon, and Shadow witnessed the awesome fight that V was giving the bewildered doctor, they could not help but feel hopeful and alive once more.

But, their celebration was short lived as the doctor kicked V in the legs, making the poet fall on the ground.

"COME ON, V! YOU CAN DO IT!"

V struggled to get on his feet but, the doctor just wouldn't let him. Tackling him and bringing his face to the floor, the doctor snatched V's cane and held it up above his head. "YOU, ANNOYING INSECT! HOW DARE YOU?! I SHOULD NOT HAVE LET YOU LIVE! I SHOULD - !"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!"

All the occupants of the room, the combatants included, looked at the door to see Nico, swatted in bandages in many parts of her body, sucking at her cigar and blowing smoke like nobody's business. She looked down at V and Lancaster and showed a very mischievous smirk.

"Aww, have y'all forgotten 'bout me?" She taunted. "Whatever." She took out her radio and held it up, her finger close to the red emergency button. "May I present to ya,... NERO'S SHOWER CONCERT,... VOLUME TWO!"

And with just one push of the accursed button, the whole house was filled with the young Devil Hunter's obnoxious voice. Nico,... actually connected all the speakers on the ground floor, letting her play Nero's awful singing at full and unadulterated blast!

"Ah - ah - ah, ah! Ah - ah - ah, ah! We come from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun, where the hot springs flow. The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands to fight the horde, and sing and cry. Valhalla, I am coming! On we sweep with threshing oar! Our only goal will be the western shore!"

"What is that God awful voice?!" Avery, who finally woke up due to the eardrum - shattering sound, complained.

"Sweetheart!" Roman exclaimed in happiness as he went to her.

"WHAT FORM OF POWER IS THIS?!" Lancaster howled and writhed in pain as he covered his ears and fell off V, giving the poet ample time to get his cane back. And during this moment of complete vulnerability, V was able to feel a strange power coming from the doctor's chest. The poet went down and started ransacking his vest, and right there, he found Lancaster's pocket watch. V could feel some form of massive energy from it. "GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT,... BACK!"

This is it! "Keep this safe!" V turned towards Roman and threw the antique to him. The man caught this at the same time he felt something cold grab his ankle. He looked down and was horrified to see the doctor starting to actually rot. He was finally losing his power!

(Y/N) was right all along! A puppet like Lancaster,... has no power against the one who believes in hope! Bedlam,... has no power over me!

"You,... can't defeat me!" Lancaster moaned as he twitched and trembled. "Bedlam,... chose me!"

"You're wrong." V answered as he kicked the doctor, the mere contact making Lancaster howl in agony. "No one chose you!" V stepped on the evil doctor's shoulder, the contact actually burning Lancaster's clothes and searing the flesh beneath it. The poet could feel tremendous power burning his insides, and it has given him absolute control over the evil energy that enslaved the mansion for a very long time. It gave him more than enough strength to defeat Lancaster.

And he knew full well,...

... that this tremendous power,...

... came from (Y/N).

He raised the cane, pointing it to the doctor's chest.

"NO! PLEASE! I BEG YOU! DO NOT KILL ME! PLEASE!"

"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom. You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough."

"NO! NO! HAVE MERCY ON ME!"

"I will not cease from mental fight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, 'till we have built Jerusalem, in England’s green and pleasant land."

And after one last look at the eye of the man who made many people suffer, he brought down his cane,...

***

✒ @la-vita , @micaelagua , @v-vic , @birdgirl69 , @beyond-the-mirror , and @cantcopewithlosingv . ✒

***

"So, this is it, huh?" Roman asked an hour later as he looked at the golden pocket watch in his hands.

"I believe it is the item that we seek, yes." V answered as he allowed Griffon to perch on his shoulder and watched Shadow trot proudly next to him.

"What are you two talking about?" Avery asked as she let Nico assist her as they walked.

"I think I have an idea." Nico smiled at the gentlemen, especially at V, who successfully defeated the evil in the mansion.

V smiled and nodded at Roman. "I will let you do the honors. Open it."

Roman raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. Still, with both hands, he carefully opened the pocket watch and,...

"Oh, my God!" Avery whispered as she pointed at something in front them. All of them looked and saw the blonde maid smiling and waving at them. "Who,... is that?"

"That is Roselle Velez." V answered as he watched the servant wave at something behind them. They turned and saw the little boy named Phineas running past them and meeting Roselle halfway. The woman took the boy's hand and with one final wave, the two finally disintegrated right before their very own eyes.

"That's Daniella!" Nico practically shrieked as she pointed at another specter from one corner of the hall. "She tried to save me that night but, yeah. Bitchy evil doctor happened."

V turned to the other end of the hall and saw Maria, the loyal housekeeper, emerging from the kitchen. And right before his very eyes, she glowed and morphed into her original form - of the loyal maidservant who served (Y/N) and never left her side.

It seemed that Maria's mission,... was finally fulfilled. And she has faithfully kept her promise,... of waiting for V to arrive after more than a hundred years and helping him defeat the evil Christopher Lancaster.

And with smiles on their faces, Daniella and Maria met, finally going hand in hand to that promised place that Roselle and the boy just went to.

After a while, after seemingly a long period of silence, V felt something strange come out of his body. And as it walked away from the him, Roman, Nico, Avery, Griffon, and even Shadow stared in disbelief. It was none other than the English poet, Victor Blake, himself. His body seemed to glow with a powerful force that casted the shadows of the mansion away. V watched in awe as the man made his way towards something he could not quite see, and when Victor stopped walking, they saw a group of orbs materializing out of thin air. These little orbs of light danced, and when they finally merged into one, they slowly morphed into the one person V wanted to see.

It was (Y/N) (L/N), herself. And she looked perfect. Simply perfect.

When the lovers finally met, their hearts twitched in pain as they saw the lady weep and run towards her lover's open arms. And when Victor embraced her, his tears of joy falling freely from his eyes for finally seeing the love of his life after many, many years, they can't help but shed some tears of their own.

And V? He did not cry. In fact, he was happy. He was happy that they finally got their happy ending. And before they went away, the lovers looked at V and smiled at him.

Thank you! (Y/N) mouthed her gratitude as she pointed at V's pocket.

And then, as V felt for the thing in his pocket, the thing she put a few hours earlier, the lovers finally vanished into the night,... into sweet delight.

***

✒✒✒

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #p.s. i love you #v x reader #v x you #chapter 15 #he who believes

25 notes · View notes