#please do not make my son suffer any longer like i’m aware he’s gonna suffer more but like come on don’t kill him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

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because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image.

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!”

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes.

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race.

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable.

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form.

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur.

“Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy.

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams.

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice.

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head.

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless.

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.”

#danny phantom #i was watching forever phantom and said 'i should kill danny' and then i fucking didn't #im obsessed with ghost king danny as end game #Im not sure this is the route I would want to go but I want him to end up woth tje crown #its bitter sweet bc its a *lifelong (possibly afterlife) commitment that he didnt get a choice in #he will be happy and he will be a good king but it wasnt his choice and he'll always regret it a little #i love clockwork but he's a bit shady and will always work in favor of the timeline #anyway happy fucking sunday bitches #have some homemade angst #also i typed this directly in tumblr and almost hit the power screen on my computer instead of backspace #god was trying to stop me from publishing but i overcame #Only did one quick edit Im too tired to care anymore #lmk if you want it on ao3

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nalu4emily · 4 years ago

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The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 17

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Rated Mature.

"Hey, Flame head! Wait up!" Gray called over, catching the fire mage as he hurriedly made for the guild's exit. "Where're you going in such hurry?"

Turning to catch the ice mage walking straight for him, Natsu stopped to answer, "Home. I left Lucy and Haru asleep this morning, so I better get back to 'em."

"Oh... You've not been at the guild much lately, is everything cool with you?" The ice mage pushed further.

"Uh… Yeah! Been kinda busy and stuff, ya know." The slayer shrugged, not seeming too interested in divulging any further information.

"Well, are ya too busy to come on a mission? It's been some time since our last job together as a team." Gray asked, scratching the back of his head.

"It has been a while, now you mention it… I'd have to ask Lucy if she's feeling up to it yet, she's still not feeling too good… Anyway, catch ya later!" Natsu spoke cheerily and turned back towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle.

"Lucy's been sick for an awfully long time now, Natsu." He heard another voice say, halting him in his tracks, "Are you sure there's not something else going on?" Lisanna came up and elbowed him playfully in the arm.

"Hm?" He replied, retracting his arm back to his side.

"That's right! Lucy hasn't shown her face in months now. Has something happened? Are you guys having relationship issues?!" Levy gasped at the thought, her eyes wide with her mouth hung low.

"Relationship issues?" Natsu cocked his eyebrow in disdain; what kind of nonsense was that?

"I think you're getting a little carried away there, Shrimp. You've been reading too many books again." Gajeel teased, poking Levy's pouted cheek as he came up from behind. "And Lucy hasn't been gone that long… has she?"

"How suspicious… His beloved is sick and yet he's not with her!" Juvia murmured, appearing creepily behind Gray, making him shudder. "What is he hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything! You guys are looking way too much into this." Natsu lied, but for good reason.

The truth was a little more complicated than that. With Lucy being so unwell, she'd not been able to leave the confines of their house, having suffered greatly in the first months of her pregnancy. It'd been hard for the both of them, but Natsu had promised to look after her—to not leave her side, and he'd kept to his word. Having skipped out on job after job, and taking longer and longer breaks between each visit to the guild, it was only natural for their friends to worry and speculate, but it did put him right in the firing line.

He was wasting time. He had to get back to his partner and son, it wasn't fair to keep them waiting. The guild would get their long awaited answers when Lucy returned, which with any luck, would be very soon.

"Can I go now? I got things to take care of." Natsu huffed, starting to get frustrated with their incessant intrusiveness.

Trying to slip out from under the guilds snooping nose, the fire mage was beginning to question whether that was even an option any more, not with the amount of people now crowding him, wanting in on the action. He just hoped the great Titania didn't decide to intervene, then he'd be doomed.

"What things would that be then, Natsu? You're not usually this secretive." Lisanna hinted again, even more curious than before. "I thought you said you had to go home?"

"Just leave the kid alone, he's got his reasons." Laxus shrugged nonchalantly, pretending not to be interested, when really he'd heard everything.

"Yes, listen to Laxus!" Freed jumped in, also creepily appearing out of no where, making the lightning mage quiver. "Natsu doesn't need you all pestering him!"

Said boy sighed, glad to have someone on side and took the opportunity to make his leave—But things were never going to be that easy. The slayer found himself almost smacking his head against the thick, wooden door frame, utterly exasperated, when yet another of his guild mates decided to pipe up and add their two pennies worth.

"Yes, you're right. However, doesn't he usually have the kid with him? Why not today? So many questions that have yet to be answered. It makes you wonder really…" Evergreen chortled to the dubious guild members, hiding her conniving smirk behind her fan.

This was getting out of hand! They were just going 'round and around in circles and at this rate he would never leave. Being backed into a corner, he had no idea what was really going on. His guild mates were chucking all sorts of nonsensical bullshit at him.

Who knew what they were accusing him of? Because he sure as hell didn't know, and was pretty convinced now that they didn't either.

"I've already said Haru's at home with Lucy… The only reason I'm here, is to check in with Mira to make sure everything's ready for his party later. You know, for his birthday today." He explained once again, sighing loudly and slumping forward in despair. "I wasn't gonna bring him in early and spoil the surprise, now was I?"

He wouldn't have bothered with any of it, if it hadn't been for the take over mage and her desire to throw some massive party for the little boy, such was the way of Fairy Tail. But this time, Natsu would've much preferred to celebrate at home where Lucy could be present to enjoy it, too. However, Mira had made her own plans, having suddenly sprung the idea upon the unknowing young man one day in passing, and had given him little choice in the matter—his ultimatum much scarier than Erza could ever be.

"We're well aware of the little one's birthday celebrations today, Natsu." Erza's stern voice echoed through the hall, startling everyone into silence and swiftly marched herself right up to the slayer's retreating body. His heart raced as his worst fear became reality and felt a wave of dread as she approached at speed, her hardened features coming in way too close for his comfort. "However, that doesn't mean I'm any less suspicious of you."

"But why?! There's nothing to be suspicious about, I swear!" Holding his hands up in submission, the fire mage was stunned into silence; his mouth dropping open in disbelief; why were they all so hell bent on this? What even was this? He'd told them what he could; what more did they want? "Lucy and Haru are at home where I left them… What else do you want me to tell you?"

"So secretive and elusive… like you have something to hide. Have you no shame?" Ignoring Natsu's plea, the armoured girl had already come to her own conclusions and summoned one of her treasured swords to point directly at the slayer, her icy glare not the only thing threatening to pierce through him, "Our Natsu would never act like this! He's impulsive and reckless and just downright stupid! What have you done with the real one?"

The fire mage would've taken offence, had the red head not so angrily directed her sharp sword at the bridge of his nose. Narrowing his eyes at the sharp metal so close to him, he gulped thickly, praying to whatever god there was, that today of all days, Lucy might just walk through those big doors, saving him from the hell that was Erza Scarlet.

He shook in his sandals, showered in sweat as the red heads sword tip made contact with his skin, pushing his head right up against the wall, "B-But I am the real Natsu…"

"Then prove it! Explain yourself, now!" She was taking no shit from her fiery companion, not after convincing herself that he was, indeed, an imposter.

Desperate not to be on the receiving end of Erza's wrath, Natsu opened his mouth to speak, but just as quickly shut it again when the old guild doors suddenly creaked open. The sound of an infants voice followed by bickering between two others could be heard filling the loud silence, abruptly halting the interrogation of the defeated fire breather.

"See, Happy! I told you he'd be in here!" The young woman pointed, her eyes landing right on the dragon boy she'd been arguing with flying cat about, only realising moments later the presence of Erza's sword and every eyeball in the building staring unashamedly at her, "Uh… Am I interrupting something?"

"Lucy... you're here..." Natsu croaked in relief, never more glad to see his beautiful girlfriend as he sank to the floor. His voice cracking from the genuine fear the older girl had provoked in him, her sword now fully removed from his face. "My sweet saviour…"

"Uh-oh! Is Natsu in trouble again?" Happy giggled, glancing over at his pink haired friend, taking pity on his horror-stricken features.

"Lucy… You're alive?" Erza stated more than asked, stomping over to the young blonde to inspect her further.

"U-Uh…" The girl in question looked down at herself, confirming that she was definitely alive before looking back up again, confusion etched into her expression. "D-Do you want me to answer that?"

"Maybe you should lay off her a little; I'm sure Lucy's had it rough enough." Gray proclaimed bravely, unable to make eye contact with the unsettled knight.

"Please don't scare her off, not when she's only just returned!" Levy all but pushed Erza out of the way and threw herself at the blonde, who was now trying to balance the new weight along with the baby and herself. "I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you, Lu!"

"I've missed you too, Levy, but I'm sure Natsu's kept you updated." Lucy reassured her, then looked up to all of her other friends, "Hasn't he?"

"Natsu told us you hadn't been feeling well, but that's a suspiciously long illness Lucy, one I hope has a good explanation for making us all worry so much." Erza explained, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's one long tummy bug!" Mira giggled, walking over to the ever growing group to stand near Lucy. "Anyone would think that you were p-" She paused, eyes growing wide with realisation and darted them down to the stellar mages midriff, before promptly fainting on the spot.

"Huh? Mira! Would think, what?! What were you going to say?!" Lisanna yelled, desperately trying to wake her sister up.

"Oh! I get it!" Gray understood, thinking back to the weird conversation he'd had with Natsu in the park and how it all made perfect sense now. "It definitely explains that idiots weird behaviour." He reached out to pat Lucy on the shoulder affectionately and smiled at her, then turned to smirk at said fire mage still recoiling on the ground. "So that's the way you wanna play? Game on, Pyro!"

Turning his head, Natsu smirked back, accepting the silent challenge as he jumped back up to his feet, looking cocky as ever, "You know it, Frosty!"

"Wait, what does Gray know? Is he a part of it too?" Levy gasped, pointing her accusatory finger at the demon slayer.

"Hell no!" Natsu and Gray yelled out in defence, both offended and totally disgusted by the very thought.

"Then what? What is going on here?" Cana shouted from her bench, having heard everything. "Quit with the suspense and just be out with it already!"

"Juvia understands." Out of the shadows, said water mage appeared before her once 'love rival' and smiled happily at the girl she was about to congratulate, "Juvia is so very happy for you both!" She looked down to her own rounded tummy and placed a hand on it, a noticeable difference in size to Lucy's, "They will be the best of friends, Juvia is sure of it."

Lucy's smile reached the corners of her eyes, relieved the rain woman didn't see this as another rivalry, like their partners apparently did, "Thanks Juvia, I'm sure they will be, despite what their father's might think." They both giggled at the expense of the boys gormlessly standing there, along with the rest of the guild, who still had no idea.

"Hold up! So, what does that mean? You're having a baby too, Lucy?" Lisanna asked, cradling her sisters limp body.

The guild's eyes fell to Lucy, more specifically her stomach where if they looked closely, they would see a small, but noticeable bump stretching out her pink summer dress. She could see the expectant faces of her friends waiting for her to answer, and the warm presence of her beloved dragon slayer come to stand next to her, obviously noticing her hesitancy.

"Natsu, I think you should tell them, I know you're dying to." She murmured, her voice quiet but firm.

"Are ya sure, Luce?" He asked, assuming she'd want to do it after all this time, but seeing the certainty in her eyes and the bright smile lifting her cheeks, he took her hand and turned back to the crowd, not needing any more confirmation than that. He glanced at each person in turn, a sense of pride filling his chest as the words left his mouth, "Heck yeah, we are!"

The entire guild erupted in a chorus of whistles and loud cheers, shaking the very foundations of the building in their excitement for the couple, "Oh, wow! Thanks guys! You're too kind!" Lucy's smile shone brighter than it had done in ages, overwhelmed with glee that their guild mates were so pleased for them.

"They've all been worried about ya, Luce." Natsu whispered closely so only she could hear and leaned in to kiss her cheek, knowing just how much this all meant to her. He took the excitable little guy off her hands, giving her the freedom to catch up with everybody.

"I knew it! I knew there was something fishy about you two! But congratulations guys, that's great news!" Levy cheered, ready to get down to the nitty gritty of every dirty detail.

"You had us worried there, Lucy. For a while, I thought you were never coming back!" Lisanna shared, hugging the celestial mage tightly, probably a little too tight.

"Oh… I'm sorry to have made you all worry, but I'm feeling much better now." The blonde explained, a light tint of pink dusting her cheeks from all the attention she was getting.

She could see Natsu hadn't moved too far away from her and tilted her head to look at him. Chuckling to herself, she could hear Erza try to apologise to him, suggesting the boy punch her right in the face for making such a mistake, a suggestion that was right up his alley, if it weren't for Haru in his arms.

Catching his beautiful blonde staring at him through the corner of his eye, he turned in her direction and winked, grinning as he held the little boy up on his shoulders to walk back over to her, "You feeling alright, Luce?" He asked, worried she may have forced herself into attending the celebrations before she was ready.

She nodded shyly, a little taken aback by the overwhelming attention she was receiving. Feeling his hand once again take hold of hers, she stared up into his confident eyes, then up to the child having the time of his life on his fathers shoulders, "I'm okay, but today's about Haru, not me, and I wasn't gonna miss this for the world." She grinned up at the small boy and reached up to stroke his cheek affectionately, chuckling at his enormous smile.

"You're right! Come on, Lucy! I wanna show you what we've done!" Natsu all but dragged the poor girl outside, Haru and Happy in tow, to show her the sheer amount of effort that had gone in to making Haru's first birthday, special.

The entire guilds courtyard had been lit up like a Christmas tree, with nothing left untouched. Banners and bunting of every colour hung from every post, table and tree. Tables upon tables of delicious food had been laid out with the most gargantuan home made birthday cake (courtesy of Mira) proudly sat in the middle of it all. An enormous pile of gifts had also been laid out, all individually wrapped with little cards to say whom they were from and most importantly, the pool had been filled with all kinds of fun inflatables and toys for all the children to play with.

Lucy looked around in amazement. She couldn't believe they'd gone to so much effort just for a one year old, a child that would unfortunately never remember this, but it didn't matter, she and Natsu would for him. "This is incredible, Natsu! I can't believe you did all this without me!"

"Don't sound too surprised; I can help organise things when I want to. And it wasn't all me, Mira came up with the idea." He looked up to the child above him and chuckled, "You like it, Haru?" The child had no idea what was going on, with no concept of birthdays or parties, he simply cheered anyway, responding to his Daddy's infectious grin, "Good! Well then Luce, let's get this party started!"

With his grin turning evil, he squeezed her hand tight and dived head first into the pool, with no consideration for his, Lucy's or Haru's clothing. She yelped at the top of her voice, her only reply a cackle before being submerged under water, thus setting the mood for the rest of the day.

After a full afternoon of playing with the other children, eating lots of cake and other treats, and opening presents, Haru found himself in the pool once again, this time in more appropriate attire for the water. A pair of cute little lion themed trunks (gifted by Loke), and a cute turtle inflatable ring adorning his middle (a present from Lisanna), made it much easier for him to stay above the surface while enjoying a swim in the water.

Natsu, in his usual flamed swim shorts, also found himself in the pool, diving under and popping back up in random places to surprise the little boy. Haru loved a good game of peek-a-boo, the anticipation of where his Daddy was going to pop up next was just too exhilarating. He squealed and laughed every time he resurfaced, then his eyes would grow wide in anticipation when he dived back down again.

"Gotcha!" Natsu exclaimed, appearing behind the little guy and grabbing his sides. "Does Haru want a go?" He asked, lifting him out of the rubber ring and holding him above the surface with just his hands, letting the infant tread the water to keep himself up, "Look at you! You'll be swimming in no time!"

Lucy watched on from her sun lounger, not remotely amused that the slayer had got her cute dress soaked, or that she now had to lay in just her pastel blue bikini, feeling somewhat self conscious with everyone staring at her exposed belly. She laid comfortably basking in the hot sunlight kissing her skin, trying to catch some semblance of a tan, relaxing while she could. She felt happy, content even, thankful that her symptoms had calmed down just in time for Haru's big day.

It'd been a long time since she'd been able to do this without having to run to the bathroom. With no spell or potion being strong enough to truly rid her of the awful feeling, she'd become well acquainted with the toilet in their house, having spent most of her time with her nose down it. It'd been hard over the last few months adapting to her changing body, her wild mood swings and questionable cravings, but she also knew it would be worth it in the end and it was on days like this, with her friends and loved ones surrounding her that she sincerely felt it.

Smiling to herself, Lucy placed her hand on her small, protruding stomach, feeling the tiny flutterings of the little one moving around inside, "You're an active little one today." She giggled, looking to be talking to herself by onlookers, but she didn't mind. "Then again, you're active everyday."

"Juvia's baby is quite active too, but he's closer to his due date than yours and is much bigger." Juvia said, coming to sit on the next lounger. She cradled her own, much larger bump that'd been covered by a flowy, light green summer dress, finding her regular clothes to form fitting and hot to wear now. "It's quite the feeling when he does somersaults in Juvia's belly."

"He? You're having a boy?" Lucy asked, intrigued to learn more and catch up with her friend.

"Yes, Porlyusica told us the last time we visited. Juvia always imagined she'd have a little boy, maybe watching Haru has something to do with that." She gleamed, looking over to the small fella splashing about in the pool still, having the time of his life with his father.

"I'm so pleased for you! I bet Gray was thrilled!" The blonde exclaimed, knowing he would be.

"Of course! Gray was very pleased. In fact, he made us go out and buy all the boys clothes we could find in the market afterwards. Then he took Juvia home and made-"

"No, it's okay… I don't think I need to know any more!" Lucy felt her cheeks burn red at the very thought.

"Made Juvia dinner…" The water mage finished, furrowing her brows at Lucy's assumption.

"O-Oh… Oops! Sorry Juvia, I thought you were going to say that you guys-"

"Made love? I think those hormones are getting the better of you, Lucy." Cana appeared, wagging her imaginary tail at the slightest mention of sex. "They say you get more horny when you're pregnant. I bet you and Natsu are at it all of the time? Actually, I'm kinda surprised he's not over here right now, with you looking all juicy like that!"

"Cana!" Lucy spluttered, her cheeks burning even more furiously. "You can't say things like that in public!" She didn't want to discuss her sex life in front of others, even if what they were saying was true—when she wasn't heaving of course.

"She's right though, Lucy. Juvia hasn't been unable to keep her hands off of Gray." The blue haired girl reaffirmed, her eyes like love hearts as she thought of her beloved Gray. "And Gray hasn't been able to keep his hands off Juvia, either."

"Wow, looking kinda smug there… You were like that any way…" Cana murmured, shaking her head at the love struck girl.

Well, there went Lucy's relaxing in silence, now she could barely keep from her head exploding—Good ol' Cana! "I don't wanna hear any more!" The celestial mage reiterated, covering her ears for emphasis.

"Oh, come on, Lucy! You're pregnant! That didn't happen by accident! You and Natsu knew exactly what you were doing." Cana retorted, moving herself closer to the flustered girl, her boozy breath permeating the air.

"U-Uh… Well… No, actually. It was kind of an accident…" Lucy admitted, feeling a little awkward by saying that out loud, her friends surprised faces not helping matters, "But it was a good accident!"

"Huh… And here I was thinking you were the cautious type, Lucy… Not that it matters. It's good to let the mood just take ya." Cana grinned, her shock forgotten.

"Don't look so ashamed Lucy, you'll both have another sweet baby to call your own and that's a wonderful thing. I imagine Natsu was over the moon when you both found out." Mira beamed her usual motherly smile as she came to sit near them all, having wanted to get the details on Lucy's pregnancy since earlier, "If Juvia's is a boy, then I bet yours is going to be a girl, Lucy."

"You think so?" The blonde asked back, never having actually considered what the sex would be before, but the thought of having a little girl join the family sounded rather appealing, especially in a house dominated by boys.

"Yes, with Haru as well, we need a little girl to make it more even. And she's gonna have the cutest pink hair and big brown eyes, I can just see it now!" Mira was off in a little world of her own, thinking of blue haired baby boys and pink haired baby girls—she was incorrigible.

"Boy or girl, I just hope that after living in a house full of ravenous beasts, this little one might be more like me. Haru's just a dark haired Natsu, he even laughs like him." Lucy placed her hand where she could feel the little movements of her baby and chuckled down, "But who am I kidding? You've already got your father's energy, that's for sure."

"Hey! Don't say that like it's a bad thing, Luce!" Natsu overheard as he appeared out of no where. "There's nothing wrong with having a mini-me, ain't that right, kid?" He hi-fived the now dry child in his arms, having already dried himself using his magic. "Who cares what they are or who they look like? You'll be in there somewhere, Luce; you're their mother, after all."

"Yeah, you're right." She said, always fascinated by Natsu's simplistic, yet logical way of thinking.

"Any way, it's getting kinda late, I was gonna take Haru somewhere a bit more quiet," Natsu gestured to the current brawl taking place behind him.

"Leaving so soon?" Mira asked, standing to say goodbye to the grizzly birthday boy.

"Yeah, he's all pooped out from the busy day he's had and I think he's ready to go to sleep now. Thanks for organising it, Mira!" He said, before turning swiftly to Lucy, "You coming?"

The bikini clad girl jumped to her feet and stretched her arms up, feeling the tiredness begin to set in, completely unaware of her partners roaming gaze, "Yeah, sure... Just let me put my dress-"

"Lucy! Watch out!" She heard Natsu shout suddenly as she bent to grab the item of clothing.

Feeling herself being pushed back onto the sun lounger, she flailed and reached her arms out to catch herself. Darting her eyes up to see what was going on, she was met with the exposed back of the dragon slayer that had moved to shield her from something. Smoke clouded him and the infant; an unfamiliar heat emanated off of his body. The girl hadn't seen what'd happened, or what she'd been saved from, but if the harsh, heavy breathing of the man in front of her was anything to go by, it was a close call.

"Natsu…" She started, but stalled there after, unsure of what more to say to him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing, you old geezer! Do you have any idea what could've happened just then?!" Natsu bellowed, his voice teeming with rage as his eyes narrowed at the culprit. "You're lucky I was here to catch your stupid attack, or that would've gone straight for Lucy!"

The brawl had come to a complete stand still and Macao, the one that'd thrown a fire ball initially at Wakaba, had gone ghostly pale as the dragon slayer's piercing gaze stared him down. "Hey man, I'm sorry… I didn't even know she was there, it was an accident!" He held his hands up in submission, not wanting to enter into a fight with the maddened slayer, knowing that was one he'd never win. "We got a little carried away, that's all."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I should go all out and see how you like it? Try and dodge this one!" Natsu roared, sending a blazing ball of fury of his own hurtling through the air, aiming it right at Macao's cowering body. Turning hotfooted back to Lucy, the distant cries of the offender being struck by his magic was like music to his ears, his anger satiated.

"Are you hurt, Luce? Did anything hit you?" He did a full search of her body, checking for any kind of injury. His worried eyes eventually fell upon her exposed belly and instinctually brought his hand out to caress it softly, "Is the baby okay?"

Smiling up at him, she brought her own hand to rest on his cheek and pulled him closer, loving just how protective he could be, "Of course, our baby's fine. No need to worry." She guided his palm to where the little one was doing somersaults and allowed him to feel the light pads against his skin.

Unable to keep his infectious grin down for long, he pushed his mouth hastily against Lucy's in a kiss that turned heated all too quickly. Buzzing with adrenaline from the incident, Natsu moved his hand from her belly and tangled his fingers into her hair, holding her in place as he enjoyed the taste of her warm lips.

"That's it, fire breath, you took it too far this time!" He heard Gray shout from behind him, knocking him out of his 'Lucy' trance and pull away, glancing over his shoulder, "Look at what you've done to the pool, you dumbass!" The ice mage pointed to the steaming pit that was once the guilds pool, fuming at the state of it.

"Ha! Looks like you and Juvia are gonna have a fun time filling that back up!" Natsu guffawed, passing the fidgety Haru to Lucy.

"Screw you, Pinky! You're going down!" Gray threatened, launching himself at the fire wizard and starting yet another brawl.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy looked down at the sleepy boy rubbing his tired eyes, and decided to creep away from the fight that just seemed to be attracting more and more people, "Come on then, sweetheart. It looks like Daddy's got himself distracted again." She chuckled, disappearing back inside before anyone had noticed she was gone.

By the time the evening swept in, Lucy had found herself a quiet spot up on a small hill a little ways from the guild, overlooking the lake behind it. She sat cosily against one of the many old oak trees, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the baby laid across her chest, begrudgingly, but slowly falling asleep. She hummed her sweet lullaby to soothe her tuckered out child, hoping to coax him into closing his eyes.

It was moments like this that she cherished the most with Haru, just her and him with no one to interrupt. The atmosphere was peaceful and calm, exactly what she was looking for compared to the ruckus that was the guild's 'after' party that continued on down the street. She could even hear the rumble of their antics from where she sat, but luckily, it was pretty muffled, unable to spoil her quietude.

After weeks of staying at home, it sure made a pleasant change to be watching the sunset instead. She'd grown tired and achy after such a busy day, her feet were sore and her head had grown weary, but still she watched contented as the beautiful evening began to fade.

The young mother could finally hear the soft, even breaths of the slumbering child and gently placed him upon her bent up legs, covering him with her blanket to keep him from feeling the chill in the air. Staring at his little angelic features, she found it hard to fathom how drastically her life had changed compared to just twelve months before. She'd grown so much as a person and gained everything she'd ever wanted and more, making new memories along the way.

She and Natsu had unknowingly plunged themselves into a completely new world, taking on the responsibility of an abandoned child and calling him their own. Haru had opened their eyes to a life they never thought they'd get to experience, especially not with each other. The little boy had brought them together in a way that would forever bind them, creating the family unit they were today. It only seemed fitting to name this day as Haru's official birthday, for it was the day his life, and theirs, had begun anew.

Leaning her head back against the tree, becoming lost in her memories, her eyelids began to close, a wave of exhaustion rushing over her while sleep tempted her in. A rustle of a nearby bush was quick to quash that feeling though, as a startled Lucy snapped her eyes wide open and darted her head over to where the sound had come from.

"Oh, Natsu… It's just you…" She breathed, laying her bleary eyes onto that familiar toothy grin and untameable pink hair, a scaly, white scarf to match. "Tell me, what were you doing hiding in the bushes?"

"Looking for you." He said simply, walking out onto the hillside to join her, having deliberately left out the part that he'd been hiding there for much longer than he'd care to admit. In fact, one might say he'd been there the entire time, watching the beauty that was Lucy quietly sing their son to sleep and hadn't wanted to disturb her until she'd finished. "You left, so I had to come find ya."

"Oh, you didn't have to. I just wanted to settle Haru before he started getting grumpy. It's nice and quiet out here." Her voice sounded airy and light, her eyes half lidded and a little bloodshot. "You can go back and join the others if you want, I'm okay." She offered, but Natsu knew better than that, he always did.

"You don't have to pretend for me, Lucy. I can see how tired you are." He'd learnt pretty quickly in the past few months that pregnancy didn't just make her exceptionally sick, but that it had an array of different symptoms, some physical and others emotional, but all unpleasant and incredibly draining for her. "Why would I leave any way, you're all out here?"

"Happy's not."

"Yeah, and Happy's capable of looking after himself. He's too interested in Carla to notice we're even gone. You know what he's like." Natsu explained, scooting closer to Lucy to take the infant from her legs.

He set the baby down in his lap to keep him warm, the fluffy blanket tightly swaddling his body. The two mages cuddled up to one another, watching the twinkling stars come out to glimmer and shine down onto the glistening water in the distance.

"It's crazy to think it's been an entire year since we brought him home. Who knows where we'd be without him here?" Lucy reminisced, her gaze drifting from the moonlit lake, to the baby snoring peacefully without a single care in the world. "Or where his life might've gone, if we hadn't taken him in."

"We'd be what we always were," Natsu stated bluntly, tearing his own gaze away to look at the girl beside him, "Best friends, going on adventures and honestly, that's kinda the sad truth of it all. As for Haru…" He glanced down at his cuddled up son, smiling sadly as he remembered the first time he ever set eyes on the tiny, lifeless baby, that fateful day, "I made a promise to keep him safe; to make sure he lived… He was always going to come with me, there was never another choice. I just didn't know it then."

"And I'll be forever grateful that he did, because..." Lucy cleared her throat, feeling a little emotional at the thought, "Now, I have you and him! And nothing has ever made me happier! Choosing to adopt a child was the most daunting thing I've ever done, but it's proven to be the best decision I've ever made, one I'll always be thankful for." She gave her own toothy smile, a slight tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she poured her heart out to him.

Natsu felt his heart squeeze tight, her words reminiscent of his own feelings and quirked his lips up at her. Reaching his hand forward, he smoothed his fingers through her golden locks, before coming to rest it under her ear, guiding her to him, "Me too, Luce. Which is why…"

Lucy's breathing deepened the closer she got and felt his other hand come up to hold hers tenderly, paying no mind to him fiddling with her fingers, "Which is why, what? Is there something else?" She asked, cocking her head cutely as their breaths began to mingle. "Natsu?" Her eyes fluttered between his dark ones, waiting expectantly for him to finish.

"I… I wanna ask you something." He murmured just before claiming her mouth, connecting their lips in a kiss so sickly sweet, it made Lucy's belly fill with butterflies.

She could have melted into a puddle right then and there, the feel of his affections always had a way of making her turn to goo in his hands. Her spine shivered and the adrenaline buzzed through her system, not having the capacity to comprehend the words that'd been spoken, for her mind had been taken over by the feel of his hot mouth. Letting go of her hand, he snaked his fingers up to the other side of her neck and pulled her closer, craving those sweet cherry lips that he liked to nip at with his teeth.

Her fingers were now free to roam and touch as they pleased, tangling them up through his hair and tugging on the pink strands at the base of his neck. Desperate for breath, she pulled herself away and gazed into his half lidded eyes for mere seconds, before he impatiently delve down to ravish her neck. The sucking and biting just under her ear caused small gasps and whimpers to escape the increasingly aroused celestial mage, her eyes fogging with lust, until something bright caught her attention.

"What was that?" She asked panting, her voice raspy as she tried to catch sight of whatever it was again. It had flickered like a light, shined like a reflection and sparkled all at once, making her wonder if she'd really seen anything at all.

"What was what, Lucy?" He asked her, not meaning to sound quite so unsurprised, when usually he was the first to go looking for trouble.

"I thought I saw…" She didn't really know what she'd seen, her mind too muddled from the heated moment they were having; maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks? Or worse… someone was spying on them.

Natsu clasped at the hand she had buried in his hair and brought it into view, "Was it this, maybe?" He asked, drawing attention to one specific digit.

Feeling the contrast between his warm skin and the cold hardness of something else against her finger, Lucy peered down in curiosity, her breath stalling when her eyes laid upon the object of confusion. Gasping loudly, she clasped at her mouth, two enlarged chocolate orbs flickered between him and her hand in utter astonishment. Somehow, in the midst of their make out session, Natsu had managed to band the most simplistic, yet beautiful ring onto her finger, where it sat proudly and spoke of untold intentions.

"It's… I-It's beautiful! B-But how did you- When-" She stuttered, too lost in what this all might mean, searching deep within his dark eyes for the answers to her silent, but obvious questions.

"That's the right finger, isn't it?" He asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous, a small pink hue dabbing his cheeks. His heart was beating much quicker than he would've liked, hoping he hadn't screwed up already.

That was all she needed to hear to confirm her suspicions, her brown eyes wet with unshed tears, "N-Natsu, I… I don't know what to say-" She couldn't speak, this was too much and he'd not said anything yet.

"Lucy…" He spoke with every sincerity, taking the ringed hand and entwined their fingers. "I'm not so good with this stuff, but I know that getting married is important to you, which makes it important to me, too. I promised you forever and I guess you could say, this is me making good on that promise." He caressed her soft cheek with his thumb and smiled when he saw the glint in her eyes shine back at him. "So, what do you say? Prepared to commit yourself to this," he gestured to himself and winked playfully, "For the rest of your life?"

Finding herself unable to keep her emotions in check, the girl didn't answer, but instead, launched herself at him, giving him barely any time to move the slumbering child out of the way and brace for impact. Landing on top of the winded dragon slayer, she managed to catch herself with her hands and gleamed down at him, tears falling from her eyes and the smile on her face rivalling his. She leant down and connected their lips once again, taking the lead this time, unable to keep her happiness from pouring out.

To the side, still held in Natsu's opened out arm, was Haru, completely unaware of what was going down, his dreams taking him to far off places. His developing sibling in his Mommy's tummy, however, didn't seem quite so pleased, having been wedged between the two loved up adults as they made out under the sea of stars, had decided to take matters into their own hands. With one almighty kick, the kiss came to a quick halt when Lucy groaned and pulled back, grabbing hold of her bump to sooth the sore area.

"Jeez! Was that the baby kicking you? 'Cause even I felt that one!" Natsu looked surprised, amazed that their baby was so strong, at just five months, that he'd been able to feel the force of the kick against his own abdomen. "Is it still hurting, Luce? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it just shocked me, that's all. They've never been quite that strong before." She chuckled, sitting herself up and straddling his hips as she looked down to her belly, gently caressing it with her thumb, "You were just trying to tell Mommy to move, weren't you?"

Balancing himself up onto his elbow, Natsu also placed his hand on top of Lucy's bump and smirked, "Or maybe, they were just tryin' to get their Mommy to say yes."

"Like you needed an answer!" Quirking her eyebrow up at his smirk, she shifted back a little as he sat himself up against the tree, laying Haru gently next to them while Lucy remained in place, "But you haven't actually asked me anything yet. Who knows what I could be agreeing to? This is you, after all."

The young man chuckled and grinned his thousand watt smile, knowing she'd catch him out eventually, "Alright, have it your way." The mischievous look on his face didn't disappear, even when he tried to take it seriously, "Will you marry me, Lucy?"

She returned his beaming smile with one of her own, glad to have heard it come from his mouth and nodded her head enthusiastically, "Of course, Natsu, the answer was always a yes."

"Good. Can I go back to kissing you now?" He asked, but didn't bother waiting for a reply and went to pull that enticing mouth back in for a third kiss, hoping this time there'd be no more interruptions in the forms of sparkling rings or unimpressed unborn babies.

But just as their lips were about to touch, Lucy paused ever so tantalisingly close to him and furrowed her brows, causing the boy to sigh impatiently, "What is it now?"

"Have you been holding on to that ring all day?" She enquired, only realising now that he must've got it from somewhere.

"Nah, not all day, just the party. I had to ask Happy to go and get it for me while you were distracted with Haru." Natsu explained, scratching the back of his head, "I was gonna do it myself, but stuff happened and then you suddenly showed up."

"Stuff… happened?" Now she was even more curious; what could've gone on in her absence?

"Yeah… them." He shivered still traumatised, pointing over to where Fairy Tail's guild hall stood, still alive and partying, and Lucy understood immediately just what he was referring to, giving her an insight into what she'd unsuspectingly walked in on earlier that day. "So, I had to change up my plans."

"Oh! Why didn't you just do it tomorrow instead? Rather than make it difficult for yourself." She asked, feeling a little smug when she saw the light go on in his brain.

She'd stumped him there. Always the brains of the operation, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that. He'd wanted to do it on a day that meant something to the both of them, but really, did it matter? The result would've been the same.

Noticing her cocky smirk and the playfulness in her eyes, he rose to the challenge, a fire in his belly, "Because, Miss Know-it-all, today was special, just like you said… And it wasn't difficult… I had it all under control…"

"Uh-huh…" She watched him become a little fidgety as if he weren't quite telling the truth and her smirk widened into a smug, toothy grin, "So you were just pretending to be scared when Erza was threatening you? I get it."

His eyes were sharp and intense, just like they were in battle, the one sided grin to boot as he bore into her playful expression, "Your playing with fire, Lucy…" His voice dangerous and brimming with cockiness.

"Then let it burn." She whispered close to his ear, barely able to get the words out before she found herself being forced onto her back, her hands held down above her head, with a fired up dragon slayer carefully leant over her form.

"You asked for it!" He growled, gulping down a large breath as he connected his mouth to the sensitive skin of her neck, torturing her senses with his loving but fierce embrace.

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Riding High

Ch8: Adler vs Adler

Chapter Summary: The gloves are off in court as Frank faces off against his mother.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talk of suicide.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. Also, those of you who do know this film well will see that I’ve changed the dates referenced in the court case, that’s because I brought the timeline of Gifted forward from 2015 (when it was filmed) to 2017 (when it was released). This was mainly to suit Fliss’ backstory of the Olympics. 2015 is too close to 2012 for me to make it work. Also Frank’s middle name is an absolute H/C too as I couldn’t find it anywhere so, sorry if this annoys any of you but, to quote @icanfeelastormbrewing- “my coffee, my fic, my rules…”

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7

“And love, if your wings are broken, borrow mine so yours can open too…’cause I’m gonna stand by you”

The first bit of evidence the next morning was the findings of the Welfare Department’s investigation. It had thrown nothing out of the ordinary up. The house was clean enough, Mary was fed, but they did point out that their current living arrangements wouldn’t be suitable for much longer as Mary would need her own room as she grew older, something which Frank’s attorney accepted on behalf of Frank, stating to the court that Frank had already considered this. Which in fairness he had. The Welfare Department continued then, stating that Mary’s interview the previous day hadn’t thrown up anything of concern, even if there were some questionable TV viewing habits, namely Ultimate Fighting on a Saturday night, but they were satisfied that overall Mary was suffering no ill effects, mentally or physically from being with Frank.

This took them just under an hour, as they were factual reports. Both Attorney’s requested clarification on certain points but there were no questions or cross examinations to be done. As such they had concluded just after eleven am and there was then a small ten minute break to allow a quick consultation between clients and attorney’s before Evelyn was to take to the stand. As people moved around, passing papers and files to one another, Frank turned in his seat and just as he glanced round, someone left the courtroom and through the open door Fliss walked in, dressed in a smart pair of black jeans and a light blue strappy top. He flashed her a smile and she gave a small wave, settling onto a seat next to Roberta who gave her a hug. She’d missed the early session due to having to sort the horses out but she’d cleared her diary and brought in cover for the rest of the day so she could be there to lend him support.

And even though the morning had, all in all, been favourable to him, Frank felt his spirits raise even more at the sight of her there in his corner so to speak. Tearing his eyes away from her, Frankturned back to Greg who was watching him, eyebrow raised.

“Well that’s a mighty big smile Frank.”

“I just spotted some additional back up, that’s all.” Greg turned to see the woman who was now talking to Roberta and he grinned, spinning back to Frank “Let me guess, Fliss?”

Frank nodded “Yeah, I’ll introduce you later.”

Greg raised his eyebrow, smiling a little. “I look forward to it. Anyway, back to business. That opening report from the Welfare Department was good, well as good as it’s gonna get. But dude, Ultimate Fighting? Really?”

“It’s harmless fun.” Frank shrugged

Greg shook his head “Whatever. This next bit ain’t gonna be as easy.” “No shit.” Frank mumbled, looking at his mother as she said something to Highsmith, her attorney. “She’s going to rip me to pieces, and no doubt enjoy doing it too.” “Yep.” Greg nodded “But just keep doing what you’re doing. No outbursts, stay quiet, focussed and listen. If she says something that isn’t accurate, or you think of anything we can use, note it down and I’ll use it in my cross examination, okay?” Frank nodded as Judge Nicholls banged his gavel down and issued instructions for everyone to reconvene. He called Evelyn to the stand where she was sworn in and Highsmith stood up and began firing questions at her, a well-practiced dance, Frank could tell.

From the gallery Fliss watched intently. She’d been missed the first session but Roberta had hastily filled her in, telling her it had gone well. She shot Frank another encouraging smile, just as the judge called them back to order, and couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his suit. A far cry from his dirty jeans and ratty work t-shirts. Which, if she was honest, she preferred…

Evelyn took to the stand and Fliss felt herself bristling as she proceeded to utterly character assassinate Frank, depicting him as nothing more than an irresponsible bum, floating around with no purpose to life, a man who didn’t care about Mary’s welfare, preferring to simply fly by the seat of his pants instead of giving her any decent roots or thoughts to her needs. At one point, they started to question his motivations towards taking Mary being more about punishing Evelyn that actually caring about the girl. To this Frank’s attorney objected and as the two lawyers began to argue, Fliss found her nails cutting into her palms as she clenched her fists. Roberta gently reached out and squeezed her arm and she turned to the woman next to her and gave her a tight smile.

“Frank’s attorney, Greg Cullen, he’s good…” Roberta whispered, “He’ll go at her when he gets his chance, you’ll see.”

The objection was overruled, the judge telling Cullen he would get his chance to challenge that statement in his cross examination, and Cullen sat down, leaning over to whisper something to Frank who nodded, his eyes not once leaving his mother. Cullen jotted something down as Evelyn continued.

By the time she finished it was almost one pm so they broke for lunch, Judge Nicholls instructing everyone to be back in an hour. Fliss and Roberta headed outside to wait for Frank who met them shortly after.

“Hey.” Fliss gave him a gentle hug. “How you holding up?”

“About as well as I can for someone whose own mother just tore them to shreds under oath.” Fliss’ eyes narrowed “I hope your guy is gonna give her as much of a shredding as she gave you.” “I’ll do my best.” A voice spoke from behind them. Fliss spun round to be greeted by Frank’s attorney.

“Fliss, this is Greg Cullen, Greg, Fliss Gallagher.” Frank introduced them to one another. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Greg smiled at her, shaking her hand. Fliss looked up at Frank and was surprised to find a faint flush of red on his cheeks.

“All good I hope?” she grimaced and Cullen nodded.

“Oh, very good indeed. I’ve been dying to meet the woman who’s made such an impression on him.” “Greg, piss off.” Frank groaned in a tired voice before he nodded over the road to the café “Shall we grab some lunch?”

They ate together, making small talk, before Greg requested Frank join him alone for fifteen minutes to go over their plan for the rest of the afternoon. Frank stood, and without even thinking about it gave Fliss a quick peck on the cheek. He winced as soon as he had, noticing that Cullen and Roberta were watching him and, knowing Fliss was going to get an absolute drilling from Roberta, he shot her an apologetic look as he walked away. She simply smiled through her blush and shook her head, turning to Roberta who nudged her arm.

“Okay, what was that?” Greg asked as they walked back over the road. “Are you two erm…”

“It’s complicated.” Frank shrugged after a little pause. “We both, well we both like each other but with everything that’s going on we’re just kind of waiting, I suppose. I’m focussing on getting through whatever it is that happens with Mary and then hopefully...what?” he trailed off as Greg was smirking at him.

“Frank Adler. Finally found a girl he likes that much he ain’t simply trying to get her into bed. Wait till I tell the guys.”

Frank rolled his eyes and pointed to the courtroom “How about you concentrate on what’s gonna go on in there instead of what is or isn’t going on in my bedroom?”

Greg gave out a chuckle and patted his friend on the shoulder as they made their way in and headed into the side room they had reserved.

****

“Mrs. Adler, in your earlier testimony here today, you painted a pretty dim picture of your own son don't you think?” Cullen asked, tapping his pen on his note pad. Frank remained stony faced, watching his mother.

“I'm under oath, I take no pleasure in it.” She said with a glance at Frank before she looked down, almost convincingly.

Frank just about managed to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“So, your son is a failure in life, your daughter took her life, you know, you're oh for two.”

Fliss winced and glanced at Roberta as Highsmith said “Objection” in an almost bored voice

“Withdrawn.” Cullen’s voice took on an amused edge but as Fliss watched as Evelyn simply eyed him, completely un-phased.

“If I go one for three, I'm in the Hall of Fame.” she shot back.

“You know baseball.” Cullen pushed his chair back. “Fenway Park.”

At that something flickered in Evelyn’s eye as she glanced at Frank. Fliss followed her gaze and watched, just able to see the side of Frank’s face. His eyes were locked onto her, his expression never faltering.

“You know, I'd like to go there sometime.” Cullen stood up, pushing his glasses up onto his head as Evelyn turned back to him “How often in a year did you take Diane to the baseball game?”

“Diane wasn't interested in sports.” Evelyn replied

“She never wanted to go to a game? Ever?”

“I don't recall her ever asking.”

Cullen moved forwards a step and Fliss saw Frank’s eyes flick to him as he continued to question his mother.

“Just out of curiosity, Fenway, that's a tough ticket. Where do you get yours?”

“My husband has season tickets.”

“And how long has he had them?” Cullen enquired

“Thirty years. But I've only been married to him for twenty.” Evelyn informed him.

“And Diane never went to one game?”

Evelyn didn’t reply, simply raised her eyebrows slightly as if she was failing to see the point. Fliss’ eyes once again flicked to Frank who still hadn’t moved an inch.

“What colour was the dress Diane wore to prom?” Cullen changed his line of questions.

“Diane didn't attend the prom, because she didn't attend the high school.” Evelyn replied calmly

“No prom.” Cullen mused before he asked suddenly.“What sports did she play?”

“As I told you earlier, she wasn't interested in sports.”

“She’s calm.” Roberta whispered to Fliss as Cullen continued to question Evelyn about Diane’s lack of interaction with other children her age.

“Too calm.” Fliss nodded. “But I can see what he’s doing, trying to paint a picture of how she isolated Diane to imply that she’d do the same to Mary. You’re right, he’s good.”

As they tuned back into the examination again, Cullen took a deep breath and glanced to his left

“Mrs. Adler,” he looked back at her, “who's Paul Riva?”

At that Evelyn glanced at Frank, her calm mask slipping ever so slightly but still Frank didn’t move. Fliss could see his expression now carried a faint, and every so sad, smile.

Evelyn gave a silent huff before she looked back at Cullen “He was a boy from the neighbourhood.”

Her tone was clipped and Fliss noticed the judge sit forward slightly at her shift in attitude, narrowing his eyes a little as he watched her curiously.

“Oh, come on. He was much more than just a boy from the neighbourhood. Paul was Diane's first love. Wasn't he?” Cullen asked.

Fliss and Roberta exchanged a glance.

“I wouldn't characterize it that way, no.” Evelyn shook her head.

“And how would Diane characterize it?”

“Diane was seventeen years old at the time. She didn't know anything about love.”

At that Fliss caught the first movement Frank had made since his mother had started talking. He took a deep breath and looked to his left before turning back, his shoulders moving slightly in frustration as he shook his head slightly, his eyes locking back onto his mother who was carefully avoiding his gaze.

“Mrs. Adler, in January 2000 didn't Diane and young Mr. Riva run away together?” Cullen looked at her.

“He coerced her.” Evelyn corrected with the air of someone picking her words carefully.

“And where did they go?”

“Vermont.”

“And you called the police, didn't you?” Cullen stated rather than asked.

“Yes.”

“Because he kidnapped her?”

“Yes”

“And where did the police find young Mr. Riva and Diane?” Cullen looked at Evelyn

“I told you, Vermont.” Evelyn looked at Cullen, her voice suddenly taking on an icy edge which made Fliss lean forward slightly.

“Stowe, Vermont. Wasn't it? A resort town.” Cullen looked round the court room as Evelyn shifted uncomfortably. “Stowe Mountain. He took her skiing. You see, kidnappers don't usually take their victims skiing.” Cullen paused from his explanation. When he spoke again his voice was calm, and slow, stressing the point perfectly “But this is what Paul did because he and Diane were in love.”

“No.” Evelyn refuted firmly

“And when they returned, you pressed kidnapping charges.” Cullen’s voice rose in volume and speed as he spoke. “You filed a lawsuit against his parents, until Paul stopped calling Diane. Didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“And Diane never heard of or saw Paul Riva again. Did she?” Cullen’s tone was harsh, accusatory as he stared at Evelyn.

“Poor girl.” Roberta mumbled besides her and Fliss shook her head, in utter shock at how a mother could be so damned cruel and out of touch with her own daughter. It made her feel a pang of sympathy for Mary’s mother despite never having known her. Fliss couldn’t imagine what she would do without either of her parents being as supportive as they were.

Evelyn must have answered as by the time Fliss turned her attention fully to what she was saying, as Cullen had asked another question.

“And how did she take it?”

“She was upset for a while. She lost focus.”

“She lost focus.” Cullen turned back to the desk and picked up a small file. “Mrs. Adler,” he turned back, file in hand, “in March of 2001 didn't Diane Adler attempt to take her own life?”

“This episode was minor. It was nothing.” Evelyn replied, her tone harsh.

“Nothing?” Fliss drew in a breath, shaking her head. For a moment she almost lost herself in another memory, of one rainy afternoon in Boston in October 2015, but she took a deep breath and focussed on where she was, as Cullen flashed the file at Evelyn.

“I have the hospital report in my hand.” he informed her

“It was nothing.” Evelyn said again, and now Fliss could see she was rattled. “Diane was not like regular people. She was extraordinary. And extraordinary people come with singular issues and needs.”

Fliss watched as Evelyn leant forward, her face creased in anger as she hissed “You have no idea of the capability she possessed. One in a billion. And you would say fine, let's throw that away, so the boy who cuts our yard can make a sexual conquest? Well maybe before you make that decision, you stand in my shoes. I had responsibilities, which went beyond the mother-daughter relationship.”

She took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice louder this time “The greatest discoveries, which have proved life on this planet have come from minds rarer than radium. Without them, we'd still be crawling in mud. And for your information, counsellor, a year after this incident with this boy Diane thanked me for my intervention. She realized she'd made a mistake and she thanked me. You see, Diane understood. She was accountable for the gift she'd been given. And she didn't shy from it.”

Every inch of Evelyn’s face was contorted with a mixture of pain and anger, and she radiated absolute fury across the courtroom as her rant built to its climax

“And I think, if she were here today, Mr. Attorney, she would refute your baseless insinuations, that she would give up her brilliant future and take her own life just because mummy didn't get her a little red wagon

There was a pause as she took a breath and sat back.

“No more questions.” Cullen said simply, turning back to his seat.

Fliss watched Frank who shifted, rubbing his chin with his left hand, his fingers curling round his jaw in an L shape as he stared at this mother, his face completely unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him, but to her she could see the pain in his eyes.

And from the look Evelyn gave him, it was obvious she’d seen it too.

***** When Mary returned home on the school bus that afternoon, Frank did his best to remain positive and keep his broodings to himself, and was thankful when Fliss suggested they head out for dinner with Roberta. The four of them went to the same restaurant he had met his mother at not long before where he ate, not really tasting his food, or listening as Fliss and Roberta chatted away. Instead his attention was completely on Mary who was stood with one of the waitresses at another table, pouring sand out of one of the bottles that was used to keep the tablecloths from blowing away. The thought that she could be without such simple pleasure of looking through sand for shells, and lost to a world of pressure and solitude like Diane had been, was breaking his heart.

He felt someone squeeze his hand at the same time Mary held up a shell and showed it to him. He took a deep breath and tried to rearrange his face into a smile as he turned to face Fliss.

“It’s going to be okay, Frank.” She looked at him and he swallowed, unable to form his words. Instead his fingers tightened around hers and she simply held his hand whilst they finished up their drinks.

Later that evening, once Mary was asleep inside the apartment, Frank and Fliss sat outside the kitchen door, shoulder to shoulder along the top step.

“You know, until I met you I thought sitting on a porch drinking beer was something only red necked hillbillies did.” Fliss teased him.

“Well, according to my mother that’s what I am.” he scoffed.

“And according to me your mother is a callous, cold hearted bitch.” Fliss spat, with such venom it made Frank look at her, his eyebrow raising a little. She took a deep breath, her voice softening “How can anyone dismiss a suicide attempt as nothing.”

Frank looked away, taking a pull from his beer. They sat in silence for a moment before Fliss broke it.

“You know back in 2015, about five months after I’d gotten married, I almost did it you know? Killed myself.”

Frank’s head turned to face her. She wasn’t looking at him, instead she remained focussed on a spot in the distance as she stared straight ahead. “My life was out of my control, and it was the only way I could think of getting some of that control back. So I took a shit load of buproprion and washed it down with half a litre of vodka.”

“Shit, Lissy I’m sorry, I had-” She waved his sympathy off and continued “After that I was offered all this help and support and-” she snorted bitterly, “I still went back to him. He convinced everyone, including me that the issue was the fact that I was still brooding over my career being cut so short, and then told me that having a kid would fix the issue. In reality there was no issue to fix. I wasn’t depressed as such, I was abused. And that was simply another way of him taking control.”

After a moment she turned to look at him, “I’m not saying your mother abused Diane, not as such but she isolated her for her own, selfish reasons, no matter how she tries to dress them up or convince herself that it was for Diane’s own good. That first suicide attempt your sister would have made a normal, loving parent sit up and pay attention to what was going on. I know it did mine, as Bill never trusted John’s explanation, not one word.” “I should have done more too.” Frank’s voice was choked as he looked down at his feet. “But I was so busy, wrapped up in my finals and…”

“Frank, Diane wasn’t your responsibility, you’re not her parent.”

“No but when Dad died, I promised I’d take care of her, always be there for her. I should have done more, and I should have known, when she turned up that day at mine with Mary…”

“Frankie.” Fliss cut him off, her hand taking his. “Take it from me, my mum and dad and brother went through all of this in their head. Did Diane give you any warnings at all because I know I didn’t? Look at the lies and the world of fantasy I let John build up round me and detract from what was going on. I told nobody I was gonna do it Frank. And I told no body why I did it either.”

Frank sniffed and wiped at his nose slightly with his free hand.

“So you can either carry on beating yourself up over something that isn’t your fault or you can concentrate on getting the best outcome here for Mary.”

He reached for his beer which was on the step below him between his legs and nodded. She was right, he knew she was, but there would always be that part of him that wondered if he could have done more, it he should have done more.

“Are you planning on coming tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Fliss.

“Yeah, Joanne is covering again.”

“I don’t want to put you out.” he said gently, but she shook her head.

“It’s sorted.” Fliss smiled. “She wants the week of Thanksgiving off so she’s racking up the favours.”

“Well, from a purely selfish standpoint I’m glad.” He flexed his fingers against hers, looking down at where they were entwined.

“I’m not missing your testimony, if only for the sole reason of discovering what your full name is.” she teased as he looked at her. Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Francis Preston Adler, nice to meet you.” He tipped his bottle in her direction. “Preston?” She snorted “Get out of town! There’s a place in England called Preston, it’s like thirty miles away from my home!”

Frank smiled, before he sighed.

“Last day tomorrow isn’t it?” Fliss looked at him as he stared straight ahead.

He let out a breath “Yeah, well last day of evidence. Then we have to wait for however long it takes the judge to read all the reports and make a ruling.”

“Well then, I suggest you get some sleep, or as much as you can.” Fliss kissed his cheek, and with that she released his hand and stood up. Frank followed her lead, rising to her feet. “Oh, and FYI I got an absolute interrogation off Roberta before when you did that to me. Felt like it was me in the dock, not Evelyn.” For the first time all evening Frank laughed.

******

The gloomy, rainy morning matched Frank’s mood perfectly.

He sat in the dock dressed in his suit, feeling as out of place as anyone could. Greg went through the questions he had coached Frank on, questions designed not to paint him as a saint but to simply be real and portray him as a normal person, doing the best he could for his niece in line with his sister’s wishes. Frank answered them honestly. Was he perfect? No. Had he done things correctly? No. Did he wish he had spotted Diane was struggling? Yes. Did he love Mary and want the best for her? With every breath he had.

The questions continued along those lines until they broke for lunch. And then came the cross examination, and Frank knew he was in for a beating.

“Mr. Adler where are you currently employed?” Highsmith asked sitting on the desk to the left of Evelyn.

“I repair boats.” Frank answered clearly

“Oh, really? At which marina?”

“I don't work at a marina. I freelance.”

“So, safe to say, no health insurance.”

“No.” Frank shook his head

“About a week before your sister took her life what were you doing for a living then?”

“I was a teacher.” Frank replied.

“You're being modest, aren't you?” Highsmith said, standing up and walking towards the dock “You were a professor at Boston University Isn't that right?

“Yes, well, assistant professor.”

“And what'd you teach?”

“Philosophy.”

“Truth and logic. That sort of thing.” Highsmith gestured with his hands and Frank simply smiled as the man continued. “Your attorney said that the primary reason that you took Mary is because it was what your sister would've wanted you to do. Is that a truth?”

“Yes.” Frank implored

“So Diane had visited Pinellas County before?”

“No.” Frank said with almost an air of amusement on his face as he looked at his mother for a second before he glanced down and joined his hands in front of him in his lap.

“She indicated she wanted her daughter uprooted and moved here?”

Frank shook his head, closing his eyes. “No”

“No.” Highsmith repeated “So you decided to bring Mary here, didn't you?”

Frank licked his lips and drew in a deep breath as he simply stared as his mother. He was pleased so see her shift in her seat

“Did Diane had a problem with your health plan at Boston University?” Highsmith pressed.

Frank wanted to laugh. The guy was doing exactly what Greg had warned him he would do, attack his lack of healthcare, insinuate he wasn’t able or fit to provide for Mary. When he spoke his voice was calm, and he fought to keep his face as amicable as possible.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Do you think she would want her daughter to have access to healthcare?”

Dumbass question

“Of course.” Frank nodded.

“So what do you do, when little Mary gets sick? You repair a doctor's boat?”

Frank scoffed a laugh as Cullen objected.

“Sustained.” Judge Nicholls shot Highsmith a look and Frank stole a glance at Fliss. If the situation wasn’t so serious he would have laughed at the identical look she wore to Roberta, both glaring at Highsmith like they were plotting his very painful death.

The rain outside continued to drive down as did Highsmith’s questions, the air punctuated every so often by a low rumble of thunder from the outside storm echoing what Frank was feeling inside.

“Prior to Mrs. Adler giving her one. Did Mary have a computer?”

“She used mine.”

“Mr. Adler, does Diane's daughter have her own bedroom?”

“No.”

“Does she sleep in a bed that you bought in a second hand shop?”

“Yes.” Frank looked ahead, focussing on keeping calm as Highsmith walked towards the dock, gesturing now with his hands, his tone winding up

“So, the truth is, Mr. Adler, that you didn't come down here because your sister wanted it to and you certainly didn't come here because it was good for Mary.”

Frank swallowed slightly and shifted a little, avoiding looking at the man as he tapped his hand on the side of the dock.

“No, it was personal. Diane was a star. You weren't. Diane got the attention. You didn't.”

Frank scoffed silently, oh please, and turned to look in the opposite direction.

“..and over the years You got angry. And here comes Mary. What a great way to get even.”

At that he audibly sighed. He had known this was coming, that his mother’s attorney would try and paint him as petty and vindictive but it still hurt to hear it. Hurt that his own mother would have someone attack him in such a way. He’d defend Mary to the hilt if someone was doing this to her…

“You've uprooted that little girl and brought her here for one reason only. To do harm to your mother. You blamed her for your sister.”

“No, I don't.” Frank broke his silence.

“And Mary to you is just a pawn in all this.”

And that did it, Mary wasn’t a pawn. She was a little girl, a little girl who he was doing is best by.

“Diane wanted Mary, to be a kid” Frank’s voice betrayed his desperation and emotion, and he knew that, but now he was past caring, this was the truth, it was how he felt, and he was nothing if not honest. He locked eyes with his mother as he spoke, driving his words home “.She wanted her to have a life. She wanted her to have friends and to play…”

At that his mother looked away, her eyes glistening but Frank kept his on hers as she turned back to him, his final words were almost whispered

“…and to be happy.”

“You realize the consequences of boredom for a gifted child, Mr. Adler? They become resentful and sullen.”

“Mary's not an angry kid.” Frank’s voice was calm once more.

“Really? Did she not attack a child on the school bus?”

Shit.

“A twelve year old tripped a seven year old and she came to his defense.” Frank shrugged slightly

“Did she break the boy's nose?”

“Yes.”

“On October 16th last year, were you arrested for assault?”

“Oh, my God.” Frank groaned, and he looked down before he glanced back up, momentarily locking eyes with Fliss who he noticed had taken a deep breath. He looked back down, shaking his head

“You have to answer the question Mr. Adler.” Judge Nicholls reminded him

Frank swallowed and focussed on a spot on the varnished surface of the wood in front of him, just by the microphone. “A drunk idiot attacked me and I defended myself. What does that have to do…”

“Did you spend the night in jail?” Highsmith cut him off.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded.

“You are in way over your head here. You're depriving that girl…”

Frank stayed still, shaking his head and glaring at his mother, all the while Highsmith continued ranting on at him

“…you're gambling with her future and now you’re being presented with an opportunity to do right by her.”

“Does council have a question for my client?” Cullen asked loudly

“Take the high road, Mr. Adler before she's rapidly damaged.”

“Does council have a question for my client or not?” Cullen repeated, this time standing up.

“Yes, sir. I do have a question.” Highsmith said. “Tell us. Is your continued guardianship really in the best interest of this little girl?”

“You do your best, Frank. And that’s all any of us can do…” Fliss’s voice rattled in his head, and he took a deep breath. No he wasn’t perfect. Yes, Evelyn could provide for her better than he could but could she love Mary like he did. No, no she couldn’t

He stared at his mother, as he lifted his chin and spoke loudly and clearly.

“Yes.Yes, it is.”

“I have no further questions.” Highsmith spoke.

Frank scratched at his head and left the dock.

***** Following the summing up, they were all dismissed. Frank shook Greg’s hand who told him he would be in touch and Frank left the courtroom with Roberta, Fliss nowhere to be seen. He took a deep breath, realising she was probably going to run a mile after hearing about the assault. That wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. However, to his amazement and joy she was waiting for him by his truck. Roberta nodded to him and made an excuse to nip over the road to the store for a water leaving them to talk alone.

“Thought you’d gone?” he said gently.

“No, I had to take a call from Joanne about a lesson. Why would I leave without saying goodbye?” she frowned

“The assault”

Fliss sighed “Okay, I admit it was a shock to hear but…”

“At least let me explain.”

“There’s really no need. You said you were defending yourself and I believe you.”

“He was a drunk idiot.” Frank continued anyway. “I was actually out with a friend, Jacob and his fiancée, Lisa. Jake had gone to the bathroom and this guy bumped into us and sent Lisa flying into the table, knocking a load of glasses over. When I told him to be careful he took a swing at me only he missed and, well I didn’t.”

“You’re a regular knight in shining armour, Sailor.” Fliss smiled before she looked at him softly. “I know that was hard today. I was so angry and the things he was saying to you but it’s done now. Try not to think on it because you can’t change the outcome. Whatever it is, you did your best.”

“You know I remembered you saying that to me.” he smiled, “Right as he was telling me what a lousy life I give Mary.” “It’s not lousy.” Fliss shook her head. “She’s loved Frank. And she’s happy.”

He smiled again as she took a deep breath.

“Look, I have to go, I have a lesson in an hour now this rain has let up, but what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Working.” he said, chuckling as she raised her eyebrow. “Yeah I know, second Friday night in a row but, well I’m behind thanks to this case and whilst Roberta has Mary I can get a good few hours in during the night and then get my head down for a few hours before she comes back.”

“How about I keep you company?” Fliss offered. “Only if that’s ok?”

Frank smiled “As long as you don’t distract me too much.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**** The next evening, Frank and Fliss were in the workshop at the Marina, Frank explaining to Fliss the different components of the oil filter he was stripping down. She gave a loud, exaggerated yawn and he nudged her playfully. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the flash in her eyes as she looked him quickly up and down, taking in his dirty jeans, hands covered in oil and his long sleeved thin blue sweater which he knew fit him pretty well. Part of the reason he had worn it.

“Hey.” a familiar voice said, and they both looked up to see Cullen as he stood in the entrance.

“Hey.” Frank frowned “What’s…” “I got some news, and I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“I’ll er, give you a moment.” Fliss offered, and she went to leave but Frank caught her elbow gently.

“No, stay, please.”

She looked at him for a second and nodded as Frank turned his attention to Cullen.

“What is it Greg.”

“Highsmith called. They want to cut a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

Cullen took a breath. “A foster family.”

“No way.” Frank dismissed the notion straight up and Greg continued to try and win him round, informing him that they could cherry pick and that it would be mutually approved and he’d already found a family in Tampa, which was what he had been working on all day.

“She’ll attend the Oaks, you and Evelyn will get visitation right, and then, when she’s twelve, you can go back into court and Mary can decide where, and with who, she wants to live.”

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” Frank cut his friend off, glaring at him “Why are you bringing me this deal?

“Other than I'm required to by law?” Greg looked back at him, and then suddenly Frank understood.

“You like this deal.” he stated and Greg nodded.

“I love this deal.”

“They think they're gonna lose.” Frank leaned on the work-desk in front of him, looking at Cullen.

“Yeah. They do.”

“You think we're gonna lose.”

“Yes.” Greg replied honestly. “I do, Frank.”

Frank looked down, swallowing before he turned to his friend who sighed.

“I gotta go put my kids to bed. I'll do whatever you want me to do. But, if we leave this up to the judge, Nicholls, he's old school, Frank. Does he like your mother? No. Does he like her income? Does he like her health plan? Does he like her home? You better believe it.”

Frank looked down again, shaking his head, unable to do anything else.

“I've been in his courtroom. A hundred times. And if it's a coin toss...Look at me.”

Frank turned to Greg, his arms still leaning on the top, muscles straining as he grasped at a wrench in front of him in frustration.

“If it's a coin toss, that old boy is going to side with the money.” Greg said gently “So, do me a favour, Frank. Just meet the family. See how it feels. It's all I ask.” With that he took a deep breath. “I gotta go, I’ll see you later. Goodnight Fliss.”

“Night.” she replied, watching him leave.

There was a pause before Frank picked up the wrench in his hand and threw it hard against the wall at the opposite side of the garage, before he stood up tall and turned to Fliss who was watching him, her face contorted in sympathy and sadness.

“I don’t know what to do.” He looked at her, and every single emotion he had been holding back cascaded over him in a wave as he felt utterly and hopelessly overwhelmed. He couldn’t stop the tears brimming in his eyes and he bowed his head, once more leaning on the desk. He felt a warm pair of hands gently on his arm, nudging him to turn slightly and he did so to look at Fliss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. He pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder, his tears falling onto her soft skin as she smoothed a hand through his hair, gently soothing him.

“Sorry.” he mumbled after a moment pulling back.

She placed her hands on his face, wiping his tears with her thumbs, her own filling her eyes. “Don’t ever apologise to me for being upset, Frankie.”

He let out a soft, watery laugh as he dropped his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath, composing himself.

“You now no one’s called me Frankie since I was a little kid” he smiled.

“Well it suits you.” she pulled away slightly. “You good?” He nodded, moving back out of her arms. “Do you think I should go?” he asked “Meet this family?”

“Frank, I can’t answer that.” “What would you do?”

“I honestly don’t know.” she shook her head. “I suppose there’s no harm in meeting them. But you have to be sure this is what is right for Mary. I do know one thing though, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there all the way. I told you, I was here for the road trip, no matter how bumpy it gets.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. He gently took her hand and raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Thankyou.”

**** Chapter 9

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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thisbrokenmask · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Medical Magic

Title: A Little Medical Magic

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Genre: Meet-cute?, fluff, hospital au

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 5.1k

Song inspiration: Dope (music video)

A/N: So I’m very aware that I’m nowhere close to finishing my bingo card before the end of the challenge (the end of this month), but I’m going to try and write them all anyway, no matter how long it takes. My next submission for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event is my Dope inspired drabble, and this one takes inspo from the video rather than the song itself. Gotta love some Dr Seokjin <3

“Just a little longer, darling, I promise,” you speak softly into the hair of the boy in your arms, holding him close to your chest and rocking him gently. He whimpers, exhausted from the hours of sobbing and screaming he’d already endured throughout the night. You kiss his temple, pleased to feel his skin has cooled slightly despite the warmth that still radiates from him and sheen of sweat that still lingers.

You’ve been sitting in the A&E waiting room for just under half an hour, but it feels like much longer when your son has cried through most of his waking hours over the last two days. You’ve done everything you can, tried every medicine and home remedy you’ve had access to, but Iseul’s condition hasn’t improved. It started with a high temperature and gradually grew into a fever that you have been unable to break and you know better than to leave him suffering any longer. You’re trying to keep calm for his sake, knowing that he’s intuitive and perceptive enough to pick up on your fear even if he is only three years old.

“Mrs Y/l/n?” A nurse holding a clipboard calls your name across the room, although the prefix catches you off guard at first. You blink a few times before realising she means you, gathering Iseul in your arms before grabbing your purse to follow her. Iseul wraps his arms around your neck, snuggling into your chest and whining at the movement.

“It’s Miss Y/l/n,” you say as politely as you can, offering a smile before she can even begin to form an apology. “Don’t worry, most people assume. It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

You briefly remember now how you used to meekly allow people to assume you were married just because you had a son despite the absence of a ring of your finger. It didn’t take long for you to start correcting people, however, taking pride in everything you were achieving as a single mother rather than submitting to society’s attempts to shame you for not being with the father, let alone not being married. But when you’d found out you were pregnant just a few months into your last relationship, your still-new boyfriend had panicked and scarpered, so you felt no remorse at not being with him considering how easily he’d left you on your own.

The very second Iseul was put into your arms at his birth, you were besotted, and you’d known then, as long as you had your son by your side, you could face anything the world had to throw at you. The last three years haven't been easy by any means, juggling motherhood and your career, but you couldn’t even imagine now what your life would be like now without your son.

The nurse shows you into a consultation room, telling you the doctor will be with you in a moment before she leaves. You lay Iseul down on the examination bed and unwrap his hands from your neck despite his complaints, taking them in one of yours instead as you sit beside him. You stroke his hair softly, pushing it away from his forehead as you do so, and hum the sweetest melody you know. Your mother used to sing it to you when you were a child and the tune immediately came back to your memory when Iseul was born, as if it were a secret song only mothers knew. It has always settled him and you take comfort in the fact that you can at least give him that when your medicines haven’t worked.

As he gazes up at you, his face red and watery eyes shining under the fluorescent lights, you feel a sharp tug at the ever-present pull on your heart. It’s like a thread immediately unravelled in your heart when you gave birth to him, the other end attached to your son, pulling you towards him no matter where either of you were. You wish you could help him, that you didn’t have to bring him into the hospital environment that you hate so much at three in the morning, but you know this is what’s best for him.

The door suddenly opens behind you, making you jump slightly, and you turn to see the doctor walk in. You’re not sure if he looks so tall because you’re sitting down or if he really is that tall, but you immediately notice how you’re surprised that the small smile on his face actually reaches his eyes as he walks over to the desk on the other side of the room, white coat billowing out behind him.

Your last experience with a hospital doctor was when Iseul was born and, despite it being one of the greatest moments of your life, you can’t help the ghost of shame that creeps up your spine when you remember the way your doctor spoke to and about you. Yes, you’d been young, single and with your mother instead of the baby’s father, but you’d never expected such an emotionally detached reaction from the doctor. The nurses had looked after you incredibly, always making sure you were comfortable before and after Iseul’s arrival, but you’d never forget overhearing the doctor as he left, his assertion that he had another baby to deliver - this time to a “proper family”. Ever since, you’d had a wary disposition against doctors, constantly on alert that they would tell you that you were doing things wrong by being a single mother and not granting Iseul a male presence in his life, as if that were the most valuable thing in the world.

But this doctor seems a lot younger and, while you try not to let any prejudice shape your opinion, you can’t help but think he looks much more welcoming than any doctor you’ve met before. Maybe it’s because he’s a paediatrician, or maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to be permanently shining with a smile, but you instantly feel your own wariness beginning to ease.

It’s possibly also because he’s really quite attractive. He really does seem to be that tall and you note that the broadness of his shoulders is also not a trick of perspective. His dark hair sits just over his eyebrows, bringing your attention down to his large, dark brown eyes as they read the file that was left on the desk for him. Under his white coat is a simple white shirt, but it’s the tie that catches your attention: it’s bright red, not dissimilar to the red fire truck toy Iseul has at home, but it’s covered in little white hearts. You catch yourself smiling before he looks up at you, turning away and hoping he doesn’t notice any dusting on your cheeks.

“Who do we have here then?” he asks as he comes over to the bed holding the file, eyes already searching for every visual clue he can find to help him diagnose your son.

“Iseul,” you say with a brief flash of a small smile to the doctor before turning to your son, repeating his name and trying to coax Iseul out from hiding his eyes under his arms. He’d immediately crossed them over his face when you’d let go at the entrance of the doctor, shielding his eyes from the bright lights above him.

The doctor, however, seems unperturbed by your son’s reluctance to look at him.

“Ah, hello Iseul,” he says, carrying on as normal as he pulls over the chair by the desk and takes a seat, tucking his coat underneath him out of habit. “My name is Dr Kim, but you can call me Seokjin, if you like.” When Iseul still doesn’t look at him, Seokjin smiles sympathetically and turns to you. “So, Mum, what seems to be the problem?”

You’re ashamed that being on the end of his direct gaze makes you a different kind of nervous than you expected when you came to the hospital, especially when your son is lying on the bed beside you. Shaking your head slightly, you miss the smirk on the doctor’s face as you turn to your child.

“Uh, he’s had a high temperature for the last few days,” you say, placing a protective hand on his tummy, “ He keeps saying his head hurts, but paracetamol doesn’t seem to help much and I worry about giving him too much. He’s been off his food, too, even when I make his favourites, and he’s been sick a few times.”

Seokjin nods as he takes a few notes, adding to what’s already written in the file in his hand. You can’t figure out if his blank expression is solemn or just concentration and it makes your heart beat a little faster for the little boy under your hand.

“Iseul, buddy, is it alright if I take your temperature?”

Your son shakes his head under his arms before whimpering at the movement.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you coo. “Doctor Kim’s gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“I sure am,” Seokjin’s voice is confident but warm and almost playful and you feel a flutter of relief when you see Iseul’s eyes peek out from under his arms and flicker towards him. “Do you think you can sit up for me?” Iseul’s not had much experience with doctors, not any that he would remember, anyway, and you don’t want to pass on your hesitancy, so you smile and nod encouragingly when he finally looks to you for reassurance.

Iseul thinks for a few seconds before he reaches out for you and you help him to sit up, wrapping your arm around him so that he can shuffle up to your side. You see his eyes widen as he takes in Seokjin’s full appearance for the first time, his attention immediately drawn to the shiny stethoscope around the doctor’s neck.

“You gonna let Doctor check your temperature?” you squeeze his shoulder lightly and stroke his hair again as he watches Seokjin curiously, his eyes constantly drifting down to the instrument around the doctor’s neck.

“All you gotta do is hold this under your tongue for me for a few seconds, okay?” Seokjin tells him, showing him a small thermometer, and your son nods shyly, still sniffling slightly. “Fabulous,” Seokjin praises his cooperation and you grin at the little smile that creeps onto your son’s face. “Now, let’s see how wide you can open your mouth, shall we?” Iseul makes a large ‘O’ with his lips, making both you and the doctor chuckle. “Oh, I know a grown boy like you can do better than that!” Seokjin teases and Iseul proves him right, allowing the doctor to slip the thermometer under his tongue. “Now, see if you can hold that perfectly still for me - without biting it,” he quickly adds, knowing most children are immediately tempted to do just that. “Pretend it’s a straw, okay?” Iseul does as he’s told, looking up at you before crossing his eyes to look down his nose at the thermometer.

“Good job, baby,” you encourage him as he keeps flicking his eyes between you and the instrument. You press a kiss to the top of his dark brown hair and are relieved to feel that his temperature has lessened slightly, even if only temporarily.

“Let me see?” Doctor Kim leans over and you watch him take note of the temperature before taking the thermometer from Iseul’s mouth and laying it gently on a tray beside the bed. “Excellent, I knew you could do it!” He offers Iseul a high five, which your son eagerly grants him with more enthusiasm than you’ve seen in him lately and it makes your heart swell just that little bit more. Seokjin carefully takes his stethoscope from around his neck and holds it in his lap before leaning forward conspiratorially. “Now, as you were such a good boy, I’m allowed to show you a little bit of magic… would you like to see it?”

Iseul nods but then frowns, glancing at you before looking back to Dr Kim.

“Mummy can’t watch, though.” A cry of indignation escapes you at your son’s words, but Seokjin simply laughs.

“No?” Iseul shakes his head with a solemn expression, as if it pains him to speak the truth, and Seokjin continues to humour him, despite the splutters of objection you’re trying to swallow. “And why’s that?”

“Mummy hasn’t been a good girl,” your son states this like it’s obvious, much to Seokjin’s amusement.

“Excuse me?” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, a million thoughts flying through your head and a slight stab of betrayal in your heart, although you weren’t even sure what he’d be talking about. Sure, you enjoyed a glass of wine or two on a Friday night, but you always made sure to tidy everything away before your son awoke for breakfast the next morning. You didn’t swear in front of him. You hadn’t had anyone other than your closest friends over to your house since Iseul was born, and the three dates you’d tried had ended at the front step.

“Oh dear,” Seokjin sighs, although a playful smirk tugs at his lips as he looks at you, dark eyes shining like jet as he quickly looks you from head to toe. “Mummy’s been a bad girl, huh?”

An aggressive blush fills your cheeks and you suddenly feel like the little room is overheating, too stuffy to breathe properly as the devilishly handsome doctor in front of you simply quirks an eyebrow. ‘Stop flirting with the doctor!’ you berate yourself. ‘You’re here for your son!’ Your eyes involuntarily drop down to Seokjin’s hands, but his left hand is tucked neatly under his right over the top of his stethoscope, so you can’t see if a ring sits on his finger or not. You presume he is married, though, or at least dating someone, given how absolutely perfect he seems to be.

“...no,” Iseul says, looking up to the ceiling as if deep in thought and you recognise it as the way he tries to avoid looking at you when you’ve caught him trying to lie, and Seokjin looks back to him as soon as he speaks. “But she hasn’t done nothing good, neither! I had the ‘mometer in my mouth, she didn’t.”

“Ahh, I see,” Seokjin nods sagely, his hand pressed to his chin and the other folded across his chest, pouting slightly as he considers Iseul’s argument. “You make a good point,” he says, “how about this, then - I show you the magic, and then you can show Mummy?”

“You’ll teach me?” Iseul’s eyes light up, not even illness getting in the way of his love for magic tricks - especially magic tricks he can perform for you.

“Of course!” Seokjin grins, “although I’m sure you’ll do it first try no problem.” He looks to you and winks quickly, lifting the stethoscope slightly to signal to you what he was planning, and you return the slightest nod you can manage without drawing your son’s attention. “You ready?” he asks your son, who immediately turns to you and pushes at your arm.

“Don’t look, Mummy! Not allowed!”

Happy to see your son with more energy, you play along for his benefit, dramatically sighing and turning your body slightly so that he thinks you aren’t watching. You can, however, see his reflection in the glass-lined cabinet on the other side of the room, and watch as Seokjin presents the stethoscope to your son.

“Now this,” he says, and you smile at the way he softens his voice to make it sound much more fantastical for Iseul, “is a very special thing. It lets you hear a person’s heart.”

“Wow! Really?” Reflection-Iseul leans forward slightly and puts his hand out, reaching out to touch the stethoscope before retracting his hand, as if he might break the magic if he does. His eyes are wide and awestruck despite the traces of illness still lingering in his reddened cheeks and dampened hairline.

“Really. How about I show you how it’s done, and then you can try it on Mummy?” Your son’s reflection nods as avidly as he can without hurting himself, although you still see the traces of a frown pull at his brow when he does so. Seokjin puts the earpieces in before taking hold of the other end, showing it to Iseul and explaining that this is the magic piece that lets him hear people’s hearts. He explains that the heart can only be heard by good, kind people who care about others, which is why they all become doctors and nurses, before pointing to the part of Iseul’s chest he’s going to listen to and telling him he has to sit still for it to work.

And it works without a hitch, Iseul watching, amazed, as Seokjin listens to his heartbeat. After a few seconds, Seokjin starts nodding to himself and then pulls away.

“Yep, seems like we’ve got a good heart in there,” he says, putting the stethoscope back in his lap as he takes some notes. “You should be able to do this magic no problem.”

A tugging at your sleeve encourages you to turn around, fistfuls of your jacket sleeve in your son’s hands, and you smile down at your son.

“Did you see the magic?” you ask him, and he is all but bouncing on the bed.

“I did! Dr Seokjin says I’ve got a good heart and I can do the magic, too!”

You look at the doctor in question, catching him watching your interaction with your son with a warmth in his eyes before he notices you looking at him and looks back down at his papers, clearing his throat. You refrain from smirking at the blush on his cheeks and turn back to your son.

“Wow, really? You can do magic? Can you show me?”

Without any further prompting needed, Seokjin lends forward as he removes the stethoscope once again, this time scooting his chair closer to the bed. He offers the chest piece to Iseul, telling him to hold onto it while he moves to put the earpieces in place. He plans to hold them rather than letting them press on Iseul’s young ears, but as soon as even the slightest pressure touches his ears, Iseul shrieks and drops his end of the stethoscope. He pushes Seokjin’s hands away and covers his ears with his own, burying his face into your side.

You’re immediately panicking, but Seokjin quickly retracts the stethoscope and drops it to the bed, nothing more than a brief frown furrowing his brow before he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small instrument.

“Do your ears hurt, Iseul?” Your son nods against you, your arms already wrapped around him. “Can I have a look?” You expect your son to scream in refusal given the fact that Seokjin’s last instrument caused the pain in the first place, but you’re surprised when your son simply nods again, rubbing his eyes as he sits up again. Seokjin seems to have gained his trust incredibly quickly, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thrilled that he wasn’t holding his experience against the doctor.

With the utmost care, Seokjin uses the tool in his hand to check Iseul’s ears before pulling away with a soft, yet somewhat relieved, sigh.

“It appears that Iseul has an infection in his left ear, which explains everything you’ve said he’s been going through,” he says, turning to you briefly before rolling back over to the desk. “I’ll get some antibiotics sorted for him, and he’ll be as right as rain in no time.”

The smile he gives you is reassuring, but you can’t bring yourself to smile back. You hold your son close as you curse yourself for not even thinking about the possibility of an ear infection, especially as it was now so obvious as you recalled Iseul’s increased habit of touching his ears over the last few days. He’d told you his head had been hurting, but you hadn’t realised he’d actually meant his ears. You feel a sinking in your chest at the idea that you’ve failed your own son, whose cries have now settled back down to hiccups, but Seokjin quickly catches on.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, calling you out of your reverie. He doesn’t want to assume what you’re thinking, but he’s seen the same look on plenty of parents’ faces over the last few years and he can take a good guess. “He’ll be okay.”

You nod quietly, still frowning but somehow reassured by the simple statement.

“Thank you, Doctor,” you say, rising to put your purse over your shoulder properly this time before lifting your son onto your hip. You take the signed prescription slip he offers you, ready to go off in search of someone to fill it for you, but he places a gentle hand on your arm to stop you.

“You’re doing a good job, Miss Y/l/n,” he says softly, and it takes you a few seconds to realise he hasn’t immediately assumed you’re married. “Don’t pressure yourself, okay?”

It’s been a long time since someone has outwardly praised you like this, especially a stranger, and it catches you off guard, your breath catching in your throat. Seokjin’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a few seconds, waiting until he’s sure you’ve taken him seriously, before he offers a gentle smile and removes his hand from your arm.

As you leave the examination room, Seokjin directs you to the hospital’s pharmacy and assures you that you should be able to pick up the antibiotics from them without an issue. He seems to hesitate, opening his mouth and closing it again before wishing you a good night and walking away, and you try not to think too much about the lingering flutter in your chest as you set off in your own direction.

You sink back into your chair as you place your mug back on the table, directing your gaze out of the large floor-to-ceiling window to the high street just beyond it. You idly watch as the Saturday morning shoppers hurry back and forth, some families and couples lingering at shop windows as others push on to their next destination. The summer sun casts everything in a brightness that you can’t help but feel joy in, even as the sun’s rays are amplified through the glass and make your legs feel like they’re burning up.

You turn back to look around the coffee shop you’re sat in, reminding yourself that you don’t have any reason to rush right now. The rare, stolen moment of unhurried peace that you haven’t felt in a long time is something you know you need to cherish, because in just over twenty-four hours your son will be coming home from his grandparents’ house, but it does feel strange to not have your son joyfully chattering across the table from you.

Your mother had offered to let Iseul stay over at their for the weekend, half out of her love of spending time with her grandson and half out of concern for the way you were constantly rushed off of your feet, either from being a mother or from your job as a curator for the National History Museum. It was a small treat for you to be able to get a weekend to yourself and go shopping on your own, not having to worry about your son running in and out of changing rooms while you tried on new clothes, and you’ve decided to also indulge in a slightly overpriced coffee without having to rush while you have the chance.

As your eyes skim down the line of patrons waiting to order, you think you recognise one of them but can’t quite place where you know him from. He’s tall, clearly several inches above the other people in the line, with dark hair sitting on top of a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. The light of his phone reflects in his lenses as he gazes down at it, avidly watching or reading whatever it is that’s caught his attention, and his lips are pushed out in a small pout in the midst of his concentration.

Despite the weather, he’s in black skinny jeans that look sinfully tight above the knees and bring further attention to his height, but you suppose the loose white t-shirt hanging off his broad shoulders must be helping him to stay rather cool-

Wait... incredibly tall, broad shoulders… it couldn’t be?

So lost is he in his phone, the man at the end of your gaze doesn’t notice the gap forming in front of him until the slightly elderly patron behind him clears his throat gently. You hear him apologise several times to the man behind him (who just smiles softly and tells him not to worry) and lets the man go up the counter first by way of an apology, and it’s only when you hear his voice that you realise who he is.

You’re pretty certain the jump in your heartbeat is cause for concern when you finally recognise him without the white coat. You start slightly, almost choking on nothing and quickly hide your reddening face by looking down at your drink, then out of the window again, then down to your phone. You bring up the home screen even though you know no one has texted you, desperate for something to do to put off looking up again, instead trying to figure out what had caused your reaction in the first place.

Of course, he was attractive - in fact he was ridiculously so - and he had been kind to you and your son, but that was his job as a paediatrician. Maybe it was the way he’d reassured you, been one of the first strangers in a while to assuage your underlying fears that you weren’t adequate as a single mother, or perhaps it was that last lingering look that had stayed with you as he’d said goodbye in A&E-

“Miss Y/l/n?” Your thoughts are cut short by a voice beside you. Looking up, you see the broad-shouldered doctor standing beside your table, holding his own drink in a takeaway cup. He smiles when you look up at him, apparently happy to have recognised you.

“Dr Kim?” You immediately blush at the squeaky voice that tumbles out of your mouth, a hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Call me Seokjin, please,” he smiles, a gentle blush on his cheeks when he can’t quite meet your eyes, seemingly less confident outside of his hospital halls. “Sorry for interrupting, I just thought I’d come over and say hello.”

In actual fact, he has no idea what made him come over to you. He sees his patients and their parents outside of the hospital all the time and never bats an eyelid, knowing it comes with the territory of working at the main hospital in the city, but when he’d seen you staring out of the window, a serene look on your face as you watched the people passing you by, he’d felt compelled to go over to you. So when the barista had handed him his drink, he’d followed his feet to stand beside your table.

“How’s your son doing?”

“Iseul? He’s fine, thank you.” You think back to what he’d said to you before you’d made to leave. “He was right as rain in no time, just like you said.” God, why did that sound better in your head than it did out loud?

“I’m glad,” Seokjin’s eyes briefly disappear behind his glasses when he nods happily, the reflection of the light above him making the lens white until he looks down to you again. “I told you he would be.” He tries not to wince as he groans internally, cursing himself for being so awkward when it comes to small talk. It’s never been his strong point, which is why he likes working with children as they don’t do small talk either. He’d rather field all of their weird and wonderful thoughts and questions than talk to their parents about the weather or sports he doesn’t watch.

You both fall into silence, still awkwardly smiling at each other without quite making eye contact. Your pulse is racing in your ears and you know it’s not the coffee.

“Would you like to join me?” You’re not quite sure where the offer comes from but you gesture to the chair on the other side of your table before you can help yourself. Seokjin’s eyes widen behind his lenses at your question and he looks at the chair with an expression that could be either pained or offended - you’re not quite sure.

It takes a few seconds for you to remember that he’d ordered his drink to go, the takeaway cup taunting you from his hand as he shifts his weight from foot to foot and now you’re not sure whether to hastily backtrack or just wait for him to reject you.

“Never mind-”

“I’d love to-”

You blink at each other when you speak at the same time, but luckily Seokjin blesses you with a chuckle rather and breaks the tension holding your heart hostage.

“I wouldn’t be disturbing you?” he asks, and when you shake your head with a smile he takes the seat.

“You don’t have to, if you’re busy?” You point to his cup, wondering where he’d been planning on going with it, wondering if there was maybe a partner waiting for him somewhere on the street outside.

“Oh, no, I’m not busy,” he fiddles with the lid on his cup, suddenly shy as he admits, “I don’t really like sitting in cafes alone, so I tend to just get it to go instead.” He hesitates and then looks up at you, his gaze steady despite the blush of pink creeping down the side of his neck. “But I guess I’m not alone this time, though, am I?”

“You’re not,” you agree, delighting in the way his lips transform into the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You decide then and there that, even if it’s only for today, you’re going to try and keep that smile on his face for as long as possible. Clearing your throat, you lean your arms against the table and meet his gaze when he looks over at you. “So, Seokjin-”

“Jin.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My friends call me Jin,” he clarifies and you feel another little skip in your chest, then he motions for you to continue speaking as he lifts his drink to take a sip and hide his own blushing cheeks.

If you’d like to read any of my other drabbles, please visit my masterlist here.

#kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts #seokjin fluff #doctor seokjin #doctor kim seokjin #doctor au #bts doctor au #fwlbingo #bulletproof bingo #ficswithluv #dope #bts dope #dts drabbles

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eleanor-devil · 3 years ago

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Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.18 - The Ruined Birthday

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05

The day was supposed to be a happy one... but... of course due to recent circumstances it was everything but a happy day... and even less when the person for whom this day was supposed to be special... simply refused to celebrate.

"I don't want a birthday party, I don't want to celebrate anything, I DON'T care if it's my friggin' birthday! Just leave me alone!" yelled Boruto as he stomped away from his family.

That's right, it was the Hokage's eldest child's thirteenth birthday, but Boruto didn't want to celebrate anything at all... not when his best friend was in the fragile condition he was.

The blond shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and kicked a small rock that went stumbling away, crashing a few times against the floor before coming to a stop. "How can they even ask me to celebrate anything..." he mumbled as he continued walking. But then his eyes softened a little... deep down he knew that his family wasn't trying to be mean or anything like that... they had just thought that perhaps a party would have cheered him up...

But he also knew that no party, no celebration would make this better... What would it mean if one of the most important persons in his life was not going to be there...?

He hunched a little, walking aimlessly, just following his steps wherever they take him. They had no training, so he spent most of his free time - and he had lots of it right now - either worrying out of his mind about his friend or trying to find a way to get him to... Well he didn't tell this latter to anyone, because he didn't want anyone to jump on him and say it would be no use, that it was all up to Mitsuki right now...

He felt a pang in his heart. How was he doing right now...? He didn’t realize that he found his way to the training grounds, almost instinctively. His steps slowed down a little when he saw that he wasn’t exactly alone… but she was probably the only person who knew exactly what he was going through right now. It was a sign of just how occupied the girl’s mind was that she didn’t even notice his approach.

“Hey…” he mumbled as he sat down next to her, making her jump slightly.

“Oh…” was the soft exclaim Sarada gave. “Hi…” she mumbled in response, and the two were once again claimed by silence.

“I… actually had something prepared for today…” the girl said quietly after a while. “But…”

“You know exactly how I feel about it.” Boruto said with a fleeting, humorless smile.

“Yeah…”

“This sucks.” Boruto stated, picking up a small rock from the ground and tossing it around, listening to it clank around. Following it blankly with his gaze for a moment, the blond then picked another one and threw it, then another… Sarada slowly laid her head on his shoulder, which gained no response from the Uzumaki as he simply fell into the routine.

Hearing multiple sets of footsteps then, and also their name being called, they couldn’t help but look back. It was their friends of course, and it had been Metal who spoke. "Umm... happy birt-”

Boruto raised a hand to stop him. "Please, just... don't..."

Metal looked surprised for a moment but a look at his friend's eyes and he understood why he didn't want to be congratulated on his special day. He heard Inojin sigh and looked to see the Yamanaka shaking his head, it looked like a disapproving shake but Boruto didn't seem to have noticed it... or if he had, he was being quite good at hiding it.

"Hey, everyone," another voice joined them.

The group turned around to see Sumire and Iwabe approaching them. This time, before he could even get a word out, Boruto cut in. "Guys, I... appreciate, but I'm not gonna celebrate this day. I can't. So please... Don't wish me..." He couldn't even get that word out. How could this day be happy? "I just... gotta go now... See you around when today is over."

And with that he just left, again all alone...

“Sarada…” Chocho tried to say, but the girl flinched as if she had brandished a whip at her.

“I… I’m sorry, I can’t…” and with that she also left, it was clear to all of them that she was trying to hold it together.

Metal sighed. "This can't go on like this…”

“I know,” Inojin agreed, rubbing his neck. “And it’s not only them, this whole situation affects Shikadai too."

“There has to be something we can do,” said Iwabe.

Sumire thought about it for a moment. “Okay, why don’t you all go and see Shikadai and we will check on Sarada with Chocho?”

"Check on her...?" the Akimichi asked, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "I really think she needs to be left alone..."

“We can’t do that though, can we?” Sumire’s tone was gentle, she was no stranger to Chocho’s social awkwardness, but also determined to see this through. "She needs us right now, even though she doesn’t realize it fully."

The dark skinned girl crumpled the bag of chips in her hand. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”

With a new found resolution, the friends parted ways, each group going their different way.

...

It had become a daily routine by now to hide in the shadow of the doors and watch his son carefully from afar.

The big change in Shikadai’s behavior had become a constant source of worry for Shikamaru in the past few days, but if he was to be specific, after the second meeting. He had been quiet in observing the interaction between his son and the Sarutobi heir, because he knew Shikadai had to steam off a little, which had been hard for even some of them, so he wasn’t about to blame his son for it. On the contrary, he had been quite proud of him to call Ichiro out on the harassments.

But this quietness had gone on for way too long. And it wasn’t just that. Shikadai had dropped off everything… he had almost literally dropped out of the face of earth for all there is to it, the older Nara suspected he wouldn’t even eat anything if it wasn’t for Temari and Karura. It was very often that he caught his son staring at the letter, the one Mitsuki gave him before he left Naruto’s office.

He, of course, didn’t know the contents of the letter, but whatever was in it had hurt Shikadai in a way more than what he had witnessed in the hospital, he could tell that.

And he had dropped Shogi altogether.

Which was making Shikamaru’s job even harder to understand his son. Sure, they had their normal talks like any father and son, but especially when Shikadai was as troubled as this, it was easier for the older man to read him like clear water in the game they both enjoyed so much.

It was close to physical pain to see his boy suffering like this. And he was willing to change that now, whatever it took.

Sighing inaudibly, Shikamaru moved a step away from his hiding place and approached the young boy. “Oi, Shikadai… what about a quick game of Shogi, eh?” Of course, their games were never quick per se, but he was willing to get beaten quickly for just a glimpse into his mind.

“Oyaji…” Shikadai mumbled, suddenly looking awkward for some reason. He brought his hand up to rub his neck, not meeting his father’s eyes. “I… thanks for the offer but I don’t really feel up to it.”

“Come on, it will be just one game,” Shikamaru insisted. “You usually don’t turn me down.”

“Yeah, I know but…” The young boy sighed then. “Yeah, okay… just one game.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by the older Nara that his son grabbed the pocket of his pants for a second, where he knew the letter was, but Shikadai otherwise remained silent as they sat at the table and began putting their pieces on the board.

The game started as usual, both of them falling into a familiar rhythm soon enough. It was about six moves into it that Shikamaru realized that his son was really not into it today.

“Checkmate.” he said as he put his winning piece on the board. There was a note of uncertainty in his voice, as though he couldn’t believe this just happened.

Which was the case. The only game he remembered that lasted as short as this one was when he taught his boy for the first time how to play the game.

Shikadai’s look of disbelief was a mirror of his own as he stared at the board. “I… don’t…” he gulped. “One more…?”

The older Nara just nodded and they put the pieces on once again. A chink in his invisible armor had just broken, his true emotions leaking out of it, and Shikamaru was willing to push forth.

It took longer this time… About eleven moves into the game, but surely, the young boy was beaten again. This time, Shikamaru was shaken out of his initial shock, and was able to pay closer attention. Still, he remained silent to allow Shikadai to figure out his mistake on his own, out of respect to the intelligence he was well aware his son possessed.

But to the contrary, Shikadai looked even more aggravated at the second defeat, and his movements were becoming more erratic. It took seven moves in the third round.

And they were back to six in the fourth re-match, with his son, always the poster child of calmness, practically fuming now.

Shikamaru closed his eyes, feeling the need to intervene at last. “Shikadai…” he said, leaning in closer to indicate a piece. “Why don’t you move this pawn instead?”

“No.” was the boy’s immediate - and firm - reply, which took the man off guard. Was his son offended that he showed him a move? Honestly, this was something they never did to one another.

“You will push my king to the edge - now it’s in a bind.” He tried once again, gentler.

“Only after you capture the pawn.” There it was again, the stubborn, defiant note. “I’m not going to sacrifice a pawn.”

“Where did this come from?” Shikamaru was now completely baffled. “This had never been a problem before.” The whole point of this game’s strategy was, after all, capturing the king, even when some pieces are lost.

His son’s brows were slightly furrowed, mostly out of frustration he could tell, as he continued to avoid his gaze. “Why is it that it’s always the pawns that are sacrificed…?”

Shikamaru sighed again, it was clear that the problem ran deeper than the game. “Shikadai… tell me what’s on your mind.”

And still there were no answers… but the Nara was patient, he had no problems in matching his son’s pace if it could ease the mind of the boy. Finally, almost hesitantly, the boy rummaged in his pocket and put the contents on the table. He recognized the handwriting on the letter, the one he had delivered to his son days ago. On it was a piece of Shogi, a pawn to be exact.

“Today is Boruto’s birthday.” Shikadai said, his eyes on the letter.

Of course Shikamaru was aware of that, more often than not until last year he was the one who kept Naruto on track on this kind of normalities, especially when the Hokage was too lost in the village business. He didn’t say anything, though, just allowing his son to speak his mind.

“He… he was preparing a big party for them, and I even helped for it…” A small huff of a smile, although one without humor behind it as Shikadai tapped the letter. “And for what? He left the village and left me a letter with a piece of pawn in it.” He took the pawn in his hand, looking at it as if transfixed. “Make it count… He should’ve been here to see his plan through… But…” after another long look at it, he pretty much threw the piece on the board. “Instead he went and willingly sacrificed himself like a pawn.”

So this was what it was all about… his son continued in the pause he made to formulate his reply.

“Is this what all pawns are about then? All there is to being a ninja? We play our role in the game and make sacrifices for our own?” Now he was looking at the board like it was the cause of all his problems. “And we still go and celebrate life like it still holds a meaning… Oyaji… does it?”

This was when Shikamaru had realized that they had never thoroughly touched upon this subject, not the two of them at least. Out of the household, Karura was her brother’s closest confidant. But he and Shikadai seemed to connect on a different level, and he needed to provide his son the comfort he needed.

But he was also aware that he had to do it in a way that would acknowledge his son’s brilliance, so as to encourage Shikadai in his own way, to make him come to his own conclusions.

So instead of an immediate reply, he picked the pieces they were playing with once again. “One more?”

Shikadai barely suppressed a sigh, a little crestfallen. “I don’t know if it’s worth getting beaten over and over. The strategy just won’t work.”

“No, see,” said Shikamaru, holding up a finger to stop him. “This time we’re going to play it by your rules.”

“There is only one set of rules, though.”

“Not if we go unorthodox.” He was all set. “Alright then… you make the first move.”

The young boy just kept gazing at the board. “You didn’t put the pawns.”

“Exactly.” He was watching his son’s every move carefully, looking for patterns he could identify. “You don’t want to sacrifice a pawn, right? Then we don’t use them at all.”

“We can’t do that, can we? You need all twenty pieces to play.”

A small smile - he was playing right to where he needed him to be. “Humor me.”

Shikadai let his breath out in a huff, he was indeed trying to form a strategy with the eleven pieces that suddenly seemed… almost lonely on the board. But whichever he picked came short more or less two moves later.

“This won’t do!” he finally exclaimed, openly frustrated now. “The best option - if any - is to make the first move with the rook, but you can’t foresee even one move from your opponent without the backup of the… the…” he came to a halt as finally the realization hit, and he understood that this had been his father’s plan.

“Without the pawn.” Shikamaru concluded for him softly, putting one of the said pieces in place, right where it would make a difference by blocking the opponent’s move. When his son said nothing to it, the look in his eyes turned pensive. “You see, Shikadai, as hard as it is to accept… the truth remains that you stand strong wherever you have something that is very important to you, something you are determined to protect at all costs.” He had put three more pawns on the board now, and the boy’s sharp mind could see the almost infallible strategy behind it. “So yes, while it’s our duty to protect our own as a ninja, some of us walk into the fire willingly.” He put the last piece as he drew back slightly, looking at him expectantly.

Almost infallible. But his mind had been working on a counter-strategy the moment he saw the third pawn on the board. “It still doesn’t make me feel better.” he murmured as he leaned forward to put one of his own pawns.

“I know… it didn’t help me back then either.” Shikamaru made another move, pleased to see that they were getting somewhere. The young boy raised his head with a confused look. “Back when my sensei Asuma didn’t think twice about putting his life on the line to protect the king… even when it meant him never meeting his daughter… so yeah. It was hard for me to understand that kind of devotion.”

“What changed then?” the boy wondered as he put another piece. Shikamaru thought about it for a second.

“Nothing, really… just that I understood and made peace with what mattered the most for him.” Another move. “Tell me… do you know who the king stands for?”

Shikadai took a long look at the key piece, turning the question in his mind. Practicality almost made him answer with ‘The Hokage’, but he knew better than that. The answer couldn’t be that obvious, there had to be more to it. He made another move as he weighed the options in his mind.

He still wasn’t satisfied with it, but he went with the next best option. “The people of Konoha? Our village?”

The older Nara’s smile turned knowing, his son was really like him in so many ways, not just physically… “Think about it this way.” The boy was playing almost instinctively, but he really had him cornered now. “You are a jounin leading your troop in a war. What would be the first thing you need to target from your enemy?”

“It’s… their artillery, I suppose?” He could’ve said their headquarters or the top ninja, but that would hit only too close home.

“What about the immaterial things? What could you destroy from an enemy that would have a lasting impact?”

This was a harder question. Shikadai took his time in answering, just allowing the sounds of the moving pieces on board to guide the direction of his thoughts, as if it was a river in which he was slowly floating instead of a jumbled mess.

Then he thought about his friends… not just his teammates but also his childhood friends and those from the academy… and the words just came through.

“Their hope… ideals… everything they want to build I think? Because they wouldn’t even stand up if they don’t believe in a…” He trailed off as their game came to an end.

Shikamaru was now positively beaming at him. “Checkmate. Congratulations.”

“Future…” the boy completed his sentence in a whisper, gazing at the conclusion in wonder.

“That’s what we all fight for. Don’t ever forget that.” Picking up his king, the man handed it to his son before closing his hand over his. “Besides, pawns aren’t just sacrifices. If you stay strong, give them the chance, a pawn can always become a general.”

Shikadai’s fingers tightened a little around the piece too and finally, finally a smile showed through his features, small as it was. It was all Shikamaru could ask for.

Just then they heard someone clearing her throat and turned around to see Karura looking at them with a slightly relieved, slightly amused expression.

“I hate to interrupt, but Inojin and the others are here.” she informed them. “And they said they won’t take no for an answer.”

“There is no need. I was about to go find them myself.” It was refreshing, way more than he wanted to admit, to be back to his own self. Just before he sprinted to the gates, the boy turned to look at his father once again, his gratitude showing crystal clear in his eyes. “Oyaji… thank you.”

Shikamaru didn’t answer, just raised his hand in acknowledgement.

...

Boruto had just wandered into a kid's playground and he had no idea of how he came there, but it wasn't like it really mattered. It wasn't like he cared at all. He walked over to the swings, sitting on one of them and just staying there, not even moving a little to swing.

How simple... how untouched would things have been if they were just small kids?

"Boruto..." he heard someone calling but even when the voice sounded different, he didn't look up, lacking the energy to even give a reply.

"Boruto..." the second voice came. "We know you're down because of what happened but... we're your friends too, and we want to help." There was a moment of hesitation. "Please don't push us away..." He recognized that voice as Metal's.

But he still didn't look up.

"Tch... you are just being ridiculous"

Boruto's hands tightened a little more on the swing's ropes, but he still didn't say anything, still didn't look up.

That person wasn't about to give up though. "You act like you're crying over a girlfriend who dumped you. Get a hold on, already."

"Iwabe!" Inojin exclaimed unbelievably, turning to look at his friend.

Boruto finally looked up, directly in Iwabe's eyes, fire burning in his own. "Shut the hell up."

“It’s not that easy.” Shikadai said with a sigh, rubbing his neck. “Look Boruto… I know what you’re going through…”

“You know nothing.” was Boruto’s automatic reply without thinking. This made the Nara furrow his brows a little.

“Don’t I? I was there too, remember?”

In turn, this made the blond come to a halt. Yeah, truthfully… he had completely forgotten Shikadai had witnessed what he and Sarada did too, maybe even the worst of it. Now he was feeling a little guilty. “I…”

“I know it’s hard, it’s been for me too. But… life has to move on, if for nothing, we should make sure of that because that’s what Mitsuki wanted for all of us. Do you really think he would want us to be depressed over him forever?”

Boruto closed his eyes for a moment, as he felt himself shaking a little. "What do I know what he wants...? He is not here to tell me..." He didn't care about what Shikadai just said, how was he supposed to know how life would move on? Before he knew it, his bitter side was taking over, and although he knew deep down that his friends were only worried for him, it was unfortunately directed to them. "You don't have to hang around if you feel depressed... doesn't look like it will pass away."

This time it wasn’t Shikadai who was talking, Inojin did while frowning. "Do you think we're going to leave when you need us most? What kind of friends would we be if we did that?"

Boruto didn't say anything to it but he felt Metal walking up and kneeling down in front of him.

"We don't have to celebrate anything if you don't want to but... if it makes you feel better, we can all go visit him. We're here for you, Boruto... like Inojin said, we are your friends too and if you need someone, we're here..."

"You don't know how it was like..." the blond mumbled, staring at the ground. "To have him dying in my arms... Life leaving his eyes as he bled out... His..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling hard. "When his heart stopped... I can't keep these images out of my head... I don't know what to do if he doesn't..." He couldn't finish his sentence.

And he didn't need to finish... because Metal pulled him in a hug that slowly gathered the other boys too.

"It will be okay, he will be okay. He is strong and we all know it..."

Boruto just broke down right there and then. Sobbing his heart out as the images of his friend dying flashed in his head. He tried, he really did, tried to replace those images with the happiest ones he could ever remember.

He wasn't even sure how long they stood there, but realized just the presence of his friends easing up his pain little by little. It was still there, he knew it wouldn't go away completely no matter what, not until Mitsuki wakes up, but it was becoming manageable, and eventually the sobs calmed down, leaving the boy only trembling a little.

“Well,” Shikadai said as they finally broke apart, with a bit of a smile. “I have something to show you. Sarada will meet us on the way there.”

The others slowly got up. "Well... we have to go anyway."

"No." Boruto said clearly, and a little firmly. "Guys... I'm sorry, you can come too. We would like that. Lead the way Shikadai."

With that, the group left the playground. Indeed, they were joined by Sarada and the other girls not too long after. Boruto noticed that his teammate’s eyes were red, as if she was crying too, but the two didn’t say anything to each other as they moved forth to the mysterious location.

Soon they found themselves in the depths of Konoha's forest. Boruto knew where this would lead to but he wondered what exactly his childhood friend wanted to show him there.

As they slowly made their way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the huge waterfall... The scene that met their eyes made Boruto come to a staggering halt, his eyes widening slightly.

"Wh... Wha..." he tried to say, but words were failing him.

The scene in front of him reminded him of a film he watched and talked to his friends about some time ago, he didn't remember when... A make-shift boat stood to the edge of the cliff, with what he was sure "Team Konohamaru" written on its prow, some of the words missing... A black cloth was attached to the ledge which stood in the middle of the boat, with a white skull figure on it - although the skull looked anything but intimidating, there was actually a smile on it, if anything, it looked a little creepy. Various other decorations and accessories laid scattered around, as if they were booty that they had gathered...

Shikadai went and picked up something. "This was our surprise... Or his, actually he planned the whole thing, I just helped." He turned to him, holding a multi-colored wooden parrot in her hands. "Happy birthday," he said, giving him a small smile.

Boruto continued gaping, speechless, as he carefully took the wooden parrot in his hands, he took it with such care as if it would break right there and then.

He couldn't believe Mitsuki had done this...how had he even managed to keep it in secret all this time? That boy sure was a box of surprises...

The blond felt his throat starting to burn, he opened his mouth but no words came out, just a simple gasp...

"That..." he finally managed to say. "...that guy..." he was clearly emotional with the situation.

“So… that day when he didn’t want me to walk with him after the training…” Sarada’s breath was hitching a little as she brought her hand over her eyes, shaking her head a little. “Was this all it was about…?”

“Yeah… it was.” Shikadai’s smile was small but soft, remembering just how excited his friend was planning all of this. “You guys’ birthdays being so close, he had to keep it from you too. That’s where I came into the picture.”

"Guys... it's alright, let it go if you need it..." Inojin said carefully. They had been just looking around unbelievably, not knowing what to say.

"So almost everyone... knew..." Boruto whispered between his heavy breath, he tried to keep the tears from falling but it didn't work... they just came back and started falling from his eyes...

All the others remained in silence while watching the two friends cry...

"And above all...he chose this place..."

"I don’t know the importance of this place, he never told me.” The Nara was looking carefully at his friend. “Just that it held a special meaning.”

“It did?” Sarada was just as curious as the rest.

He didn't want to talk about it. About their promise... they had both sworn... and he remembered Mitsuki's words from only a few days ago... '

I can't give you a promise I can't keep...'

[Flashback]

"Jump!" Boruto lost his balance when he reached the edge of the cliff, flailed his arms wildly for a bit, then both him and Mitsuki tumbled down.

It was exhilarating!

He couldn't help but scream in excitement as they fell down some meters below into the river. The chilling water cut his breath on impact and for a while, stars danced in front of his eyes. Then he kicked up and burst through the surface, laughing joyously.

"Haha, that was priceless, don't you agree?"

There were no replies.

Confused more than concerned, Boruto looked around. Where was Mitsuki? They had both jumped in... didn't they?

Fear hit him at the possibility, and he immediately looked up... He could see no one at the top of the cliff... Not even the thug was there, which made the blond frown - what was going on?!

"Mitsu-!" just then, a hand was clamped on his mouth, and he struggled to get free of it.

"Not now." came his friend's voice from behind him and Boruto felt himself immediately relaxing. "He could be around here, we should stay low."

And so they retreated back to hide behind a rock, eyes keen and watching everywhere as they listened on to the sounds...

It took a while... and the voice was dimmed due to the roar of the waterfall, but finally they heard something.

"Boruto? Mitsuki! Come out wherever you are now!"

"That's sensei..." the blond said, looking at his friend in relief. They both came out of their hiding spot, looking upwards.

Hands on her knees and bending a little forward to see clearly, Sarada pointed. "There they are, sensei!"

Konohamaru breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that his students were safe. "Come up here quickly!" he called towards the duo again, then looked at the man he had just caught and bound. "We have a package to deliver and we can't lose time!"

"Yeah yeah, we will be up there in a minute!"

Hearing the lazy and carefree tone in Boruto's voice, the jounin felt his temper rising slightly. "There is no time to dawdle! Get moving - now!"

Mitsuki looked at his friend. "I believe it would be wise to do as we are told."

"Yeah, they can wait a little." Boruto said, still carefree. "First I want to make sure of something."

Mitsuki raised an eyebrow at this - leave it to Boruto to get on the nerves of their sensei. "What is it? I'm positive that Konohamaru sensei took care of that thug."

"Nah, it's not about that."

But the blond made no further explanation as they waddled their way ashore, which made the blue-haired preteen even more curious. "Boruto..."

Then his friend finally turned to him. "Oka- whoa...!" before losing his balance and tumbling on the ground.

Mitsuki laughed for a little, which earned him a scowl from Boruto, but in a moment it was replaced by a smirk and the blond reached up to pull his friend down as well. In the next minute, they were both laughing their heads off.

"Okay. This calls for a promise." the Uzumaki said all of a sudden, catching Mitsuki by surprise.

"What promise are you talking about?"

"Simple. Promise me that, just like today, we will always be by each other's side, no matter what, always there to help each other." Boruto raised his fist. "And I promise the same to you."

Mitsuki looked at him for a second before raising his fist and bumping it against Boruto's. "I promise."

[End of Flashback] (1)

As Boruto reopened his eyes, determination shone in them. "I made up my mind," he whispered softly.

"Huh?" asked Sarada, confused.

"I want to celebrate my birthday after all." the blond said a little more clearly, finally letting his gaze drift away from the blanket of white on the ground.

This sudden change in his resolve was certainly unexpected, but it managed to bring a smile to his friends' faces. "Well, that's great," Metal said, they were all relieved that Boruto was able to snap out of it. "So if you still want we can-"

"Guys, um... I'm sorry..." the blond said sheepishly, bringing his hand to his neck. "Can we... do that later...? I... kinda have to make up for someone else first."

"Oh... uh, sure..." Inojin said with a bright smile, one which made Boruto feel a little ashamed because of the way he treated them earlier. "We'll arrange that later." Then, one by one, all of his friends came forward to hug him. "Happy birthday, Boruto."

"Thanks, you guys," he said, finally managing a small smile. He and Sarada watched until their friends were out of sight. Then the blond took the Uchiha's hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Not saying anything else to her, he took out his cellphone. "Hello, mom? Mom, I'm really sorry about the way I behaved... I-I want to celebrate my birthday..." Boruto smiled as he, undoubtedly, heard Hinata's happy tone. "Can all of you meet us in the hospital...?"

...

The snow was spiraling down in a white haze out of the building, piling up on the already thick blanket on the ground. The building itself was alight, the windows glowing in the darkness.

One of the rooms had a very lively party going on inside, as lively as the hospital rules allowed of course. The room contained the youngest patient in the hospital currently, a thirteen-year-old hero.

The hustle and bustle that was going on was a courtesy of his best friend, Uzumaki Boruto, who had insisted that if he was going to have any kind of celebration for his birthday... it was gonna have to include his best friend.

Boruto smiled brightly as those who gathered in the room finished the birthday song, and then he leaned forward to blow the candles out. He was wearing a pirate hat that his friends had bought, and (because they couldn't make it sit on his shoulder) the wooden parrot was standing on the table beside him.

Claps echoed around the room; the entirety of the Uzumaki and Uchiha families were inside the room, plus Konohamaru. They were all practically cramped in the room, and although they had received some stink eyes, seeing the circumstances, they were allowed in; with the pretense that the visit should be short. Which Sakura felt the need to remind them of after they finished their share of the cake.

"I'm sorry, but this is as far as I can let you be in here." she said, with an understanding smile directed to the birthday boy, Sarada and Himawari.

Himawari pouted and let out a long 'aww' before Sarada walked over to her and put her hands on her shoulder to lead her out. The adults followed not too long after, after wishing Boruto the best for his new year.

When everyone left, the blond eyed Sakura a little nervously. "Aunt Sakura... can I please stay a little more?"

The look in the pink haired woman's eyes only softened more. "Of course, dear, but no more than five minutes."

He just nodded and watched until Sakura was out before turning his head back at his friend once again...

[Flashback]

"Oww!"

Boruto flinched a little as Mitsuki gave a short yelp of pain following a thud. He... wasn't exactly adjusted to darkness as he would like to think, plus not knowing Mitsuki's house good enough... didn't help with things much. Which was something his blue-haired friend pointed out soon enough.

"I still don't understand why I have to be led into my own house blindfolded, Boruto..."

"You'll see in a minute," the blond said, barely being able to hold back a chuckle. He didn't want to give anything away. He wanted everything to be great... he wanted his best friend to feel he was welcomed...

And in his mind? This was the best opportunity.

"At least don't make me bump into another thing, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," the blond said cheerily. "Hey, wait over here for a moment, will you? I'll be right back..."

"Boruto..." there was a warning tone in the younger boy's voice.

"Don't open your eyes until I say so!" Boruto called before carefully finding his way to the couch and hiding behind it... coming face to face with his little sister.

"Can't believe you almost blew our cover!" Himawari whispered indignantly.

"Look who's talking! Keep your voice down, will you!"

"Boruto!" Mitsuki's voice came, impatient. "Can we get over with this already?"

"Well?" Sarada asked from the other corner. "Any reason to keep waiting?"

"Is there anyone else here?" this time, Mitsuki sounded confused.

Well... he couldn't see any point in hiding anymore. The blond gave a small nod, and Himawari darted towards the kitchen to notify their mothers, who had been taking care of the cake.

They then heard Mitsuki sigh. "This is getting ridiculous..."

Boruto felt more than saw what his friend was about to do - and it was too early for it! So when he saw the trio coming out of the kitchen already - he rushed forward to stop them... just when Sarada noticed something and plopped out of her hiding spot to alert them...

And that was how Mitsuki found them when he turned on the lights. Himawari, Hinata and Sakura coming out of the kitchen, Hinata holding a huge cake with lit candles on it, Boruto practically on his tiptoes as he was trying to approach them discreetly and Sarada, frozen in the middle of waving her arms towards their direction, half-seen behind the armchair... all of them comically stopped in their tracks.

To break through the awkwardness of the situation, Himawari bent down to snatch a handful of confetti they had previously thrown around for decoration and just threw them over. "Happy birthday, Mitsu-nii!"

The blue-haired boy was so baffled that for a moment, he could do nothing but look around at the decorations with widened golden eyes. "W... what is..."

Following his sister's lead, Boruto snapped out of his stance and came over to his friend's side, putting an arm on his shoulder as he grinned widely. "Don't tell me you forgot it! Happy birthday, Mitsuki!"

The boy was still at a loss for words. "I..."

"Sorry it's not that much," the blond continued almost sheepishly, but he couldn't keep the glee out of his voice anyway. "I wanted to do something more detailed since it's your first birthday here, it should be special, and man, twelve is an important age..."

Hinata gave a soft chuckle at her overly-enthusiastic son. "Boruto, just give him a breath of fresh air..."

"...and we would've arranged something more if you told us about this previously, I mean, who says it's his birthday just the day before it?! It's a crime, I'm telling you..."

"Boruto." Mitsuki finally managed to cut in, and his voice sounded strangely tight. "It's... it's okay, I really like it...

" "Aw, well," the blond said, oblivious to his friend getting emotional. "Tell me about that again when you see what I have in stock for next year..."

"That is a long stretch of time..." Sarada pointed out, sweat-dropping.

"Come on... at least let him blow out the candles before they go out, okay...?"

[End of Flashback]

Boruto sighed. "You do realize you raised the stakes too high, right? How am I even gonna compete with this on your next birthday? There should be a middle ground before you reach the peak, y'know?"

Obviously, there were no answers. But the blond didn't seem to be disheartened by it... his smile didn't falter.

"It's alright... Even if you can't reply to me, I know you can still hear. So listen closely," he said crisply, straightening himself a little. "When you come back, I want a full-fledged birthday party." The look in his eyes softened. "And I know you will come back... because the Mitsuki I know never gives up, and always keeps his promises." He bumped his fist against his friend's, just like how they did back then.

Better not strain Aunt Sakura's tolerance.

Just when he was about to walk out... an idea came to his mind. He brought a hand to his necklace and looked back at his friend, then determination filled his eyes. He took the necklace out and walked over to the bedside table on which he had left the wooden parrot.

"Uncle Neji..." he whispered as he put the necklace on it, his hand staying over it for a minute. "If you can hear me, please help my friend find his way back to us..."

He then turned and walked towards the door, and turned back to look at Mitsuki again. "It can't be his time just yet..."

...

The change in the blond was immediately noticed when he returned to his family's side. "Onii-chan, where is your necklace?" Himawari asked curiously.

In turn, Boruto gave her a big smile. "It's alright, Hima... I just lent it to someone who needs it more."

#boruto:sacrifices #naruto #boruto #mitsuki #naruto fanfiction #boruto fanfiction

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Riding High Ch 8- Adler Vs Adler

Chapter Summary: The gloves are off in court as mother and son go head to head.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talk of suicide.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

This chapter is a mix of Fliss and Frank’s POV…hope you all enjoy it. As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter Song: Stand By You- Rachel Platten

And love, if your wings are broken, borrow mine so yours can open too…’cause I’m gonna stand by you

The first bit of evidence the next morning was the findings of the Welfare Department’s investigation. It had thrown nothing out of the ordinary up. The house was clean enough, Mary was fed…but they did point out that it wouldn’t be suitable for much longer as Mary would need her own room as she grew older, something which Frank’s attorney accepted on behalf of Frank, stating to the court that Frank had already considered this. Which in fairness he had. The Welfare Department continued then, stating that Mary’s interview the previous day hadn’t thrown up anything of concern, even if there were some questionable TV viewing habits, namely Ultimate Fighting but they were satisfied that overall Mary suffering no ill effects, mentally or physically from being with Frank.

This took them just under an hour, as they were factual reports. Both Attorneys requested clarification points but there were no questions or cross examinations. As such they had concluded just after 11 am and there was then a small 10 minute break to allow a quick consultation between clients and lawyers before Evelyn was to take to the stand. As people moved around, passing papers and files to one another, Frank turned in his seat and just as he glanced round, someone left the courtroom and through the open door Fliss walked in, dressed in a smart pair of black jeans and a light blue strappy top. He flashed her a smile and she gave a small wave, settling onto a seat next to Roberta who gave her a hug. She’d missed the early session due to having to sort the horses out but she’d cleared her diary and brought in cover for the rest of the day.

Frank turned back to Greg who was watching him, eyebrow raised.

“Well that was a mighty big smile Frank…”

“Yeah, well just spotted some back up, that’s all.” Greg turned to see the woman who was now talking to Roberta and he grinned, spinning back to Frank “Let me guess, Fliss?”

Frank nodded “Yeah, I’ll introduce you later.”

Greg nodded “I look forward to it. Anyway, back to business, that opening report from the Welfare Department was good, well as good as it’s gonna get. But man, Ultimate Fighting?”

“It’s harmless…” Frank shrugged

Greg shook his head “Whatever. This next bit ain’t gonna be as easy.” “No shit…” Frank mumbled, looking at his mother as she said something to Highsmith, her attorney. “She’s going to rip me to pieces, and no doubt enjoy doing it too.” “Yep.” Greg nodded “But, keep doing what you’re doing. No outbursts, stay quiet, focussed, listen. And if she says anything that isn’t accurate, or you think of anything we can use, note it down and I’ll use it in my cross examination, ok?” Frank nodded as Judge Nicholls banged his gavel down an issued instructions for everyone to reconvene. He called Evelyn to the stand where she was sworn in and Highsmith stood up and began firing questions at her, a well-practiced dance, Frank could tell.

From the gallery Fliss watched intently. She’d been late due to having to open up at the yard but had rushed home, changed and got here as soon as she could. As such she had missed the first session but Roberta had hastily filled her in, telling her it had gone well. She shot Frank another encouraging smile, just as the judge called them back to order, and couldn’t help but notice how good that man looked in his grey suit, light grey shirt and maroon and white speckled tie. He certainly looked the part.

Evelyn took to the stand and Fliss felt herself bristling as she utterly character assassinated Frank, depicting him as nothing more than an irresponsible bum, floating around with no purpose to life, who didn’t care about Mary’s welfare, preferring to simply fly by the seat of his pants instead of giving her any decent roots or thoughts to her needs. At one point, they started to question his motivations towards taking Mary being more about punishing Evelyn that actually caring about the girl. To this Frank’s attorney objected and as the two attorneys began to argue, Fliss found her nails cutting into her palms as she clenched her fists. Roberta gently reached out and squeezed her arm and she turned to the woman next to her and gave her a tight smile.

“Frank’s attorney, Greg Cullen, well he’s good…” she whispered, “He’ll go at her when he gets his chance…you’ll see.”

By the time she finished it was almost midday so they broke for lunch, Judge Nicholls instructing everyone to be back in an hour. Fliss and Roberta headed outside to wait for Frank who met them shortly after.

“Hey…” Fliss said, giving him a gentle hug. “How you holding up?”

“About as well as I can for someone whose own other just tore them to shreds under oath.” Fliss’ eyes narrowed “I hope your guy is gonna give as good as she did…” “I’ll do my best.” A voice said. Fliss spun round to be greeted by Frank’s attorney.

“Fliss, this is Greg Cullen, Greg this is Fliss Gallagher.” Frank introduced them to one another. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Greg smiled at her, shaking her hand. Fliss looked up at Frank and was surprised to find a faint flush of red on his cheeks.

“All good I hope?” she grimaced and Cullen nodded.

“Oh…very good indeed. I’ve been dying to meet the woman who’s made such an impression on him…” “Greg, piss off.” Frank said in a tired voice, before he nodded over the road to the café “Shall we grab some lunch?”

They ate together, made small talk, before Greg requested Frank join him alone for 15 minutes to go over the rest of the afternoon. Frank stood, and without even thinking about it gave Fliss a quick peck on the cheek. He winced as soon as he had, noticing that Cullen and Roberta were watching him and knowing Fliss was going to get an absolute drilling from Roberta he shot her an apologetic look as he walked away. She simply smiled through her blush and shook her head, turning to Roberta who nudged her arm.

“Ok, so…what was that?” Greg asked as they walked back over the road.

“It’s complicate.” Frank sighed “we both…we like each other but with everything that’s going on we’re…well I suppose we’re taking it slow. I’m focussing on getting through whatever it is that happens with Mary and then hopefully…what?” he trailed off as Greg was smirking at him.

“Frank Adler. Finally found a girl he likes that much he ain’t simply trying to get her into bed…”

Frank rolled his eyes and pointed to the courtroom “How about you concentrate on what’s gonna go on in there instead of what is or isn’t going on in my bedroom?”

Greg gave out a chuckle and patted his friend on the shoulder as they made their way in and headed into the side room they had reserved.

****

“Mrs. Adler, in your earlier testimony here today… you painted a pretty dim picture of your own son don’t you think?” Cullen asked, tapping his pen on his note pad. Frank remained stony faced, watching his mother.

“I’m under oath, I take no pleasure in it.” she said with a glance at Frank before she looked down, almost convincingly.

Frank just about managed to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“So, your son is a failure in life, your daughter took her life…you know, you’re oh for two.”

Fliss winced and glanced at Roberta as Highsmith said “Objection” in an almost bored voice

“Withdrawn.” Cullen said, his voice taking on an amused edge but as Fliss watched Evelyn simply eyed him, completely un-phased.

“If I go one for three, I’m in the Hall of Fame.” she shot back.

“You know baseball.” Cullen said, pushing his chair back “Fenway Park.”

At that something flickered in Evelyn’s eye as she glanced at Frank. Fliss followed her gaze and watched, just able to see the side of Frank’s face. His eyes locked onto her, his expression never faltering.

“You know, I’d like to go there sometime.” Cullen said standing up, pushing his glasses up onto his head as Evelyn turned back to him “How often in a year did you take Diane to the baseball game?”

“Diane wasn’t interested in sports.” Evelyn replied

“She never wanted to go to a game? Ever?”

“I don’t recall her ever asking.”

Cullen moved forwards a step and Fliss saw Frank’s eyes flick to him as he continued to question his mother.

“Just out of curiosity, Fenway, that’s a tough ticket. Where do you get yours?”

“My husband has season tickets.”

“And how long has he had them?” Cullen enquired

“30 years. But I’ve only been married to him for 20.” Evelyn informed him.

“And Diane never went to one game?”

Evelyn didn’t reply, simply raised her eyebrows slightly as if she was failing to see the point. Fliss’ eyes once again flicked to Frank who still hadn’t moved an inch.

“What colour was the dress Diane wore to prom?” Cullen changed his line of questions.

“Diane didn’t attend the prom, because she didn’t attend the high school.” Evelyn replied calmly

“No prom.” Cullen mused before he asked suddenly “What sports did she play?”

“As I told you earlier, she wasn’t interested in sports.”

“She’s calm…” Roberta whispered to Fliss as Cullen continued to question Evelyn about Diane’s lack of interaction with other children her age

“Too calm…” Fliss said “But I can see what he’s doing, trying to paint a picture of how she isolated Diane to imply that she’d do the same to Mary. You’re right, he is good…”

As they tuned back into the examination again, Cullen took a deep breath and glanced to his left

“Mrs. Adler, he said, looking back at her who’s Paul Riva?”

At that Evelyn glanced at Frank, her calm mask slipped ever so slightly but still Frank didn’t move. Fliss could see his expression now carried a faint, and every so sad, smile.

Evelyn gave a silent huff before she looked back at Cullen “He was a boy from the neighbourhood.”

Her tone was clipped and Fliss noticed the judge sit forward slightly at her change in tone, narrowing his eyes a little as he watched her curiously

“Oh, come on. He was much more than just a boy from the neighbourhood. Paul was Diane’s first love. Wasn’t he?” Cullen asked.

Fliss and Roberta exchanged a glance.

“I wouldn’t characterize it that way, no.” Evelyn shook her head.

“And how would Diane characterize it?”

“Diane was 17 years old at the time. She didn’t know anything about love.”

At that Fliss caught the first movement Frank had made as he took a deep breath and looked to his left before turning back, his shoulders moving slightly in frustration as he shook his head slightly, his eyes locking back onto his mother who was carefully avoiding his gaze.

“Mrs. Adler… in January 2000 didn’t Diane and young Mr. Riva run away together?” Cullen looked at her.

“He coerced her” Evelyn corrected with the air of someone picking her words carefully.

“And where did they go?”

“Vermont.”

“And you called the police, didn’t you?” Cullen stated rather than asked.

“Yes.”

“Because he kidnapped her?”

“Yes”

“And where did the police find young Mr. Riva and Diane?” Cullen looked at Evelyn

“I told you, Vermont.” Evelyn looked at Cullen, her voice suddenly taking on an edge which made Fliss lean forward slightly.

“Stowe, Vermont. Wasn’t it? A resort town.” Cullen said, looking round the court room as Evelyn shifted uncomfortably. “Stowe Mountain. He took her skiing. You see, kidnappers don’t usually take their victims skiing.” Cullen paused from his explanation, when he spoke again his voice was calm, and slow, stressing the point perfectly “But this is what Paul did because he and Diane were in love.”

“No” Evelyn said firmly

“And when they returned, you pressed kidnapping charges.” Cullen’s voice rose in volume and speed as he spoke “You filed a lawsuit against his parents…until Paul stopped calling Diane. Didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And Diane never heard of or saw Paul Riva again. Did she?” Cullen’s tone was harsh, accusatory as he stared at Evelyn.

“Poor girl…” Roberta mumbled besides her and Fliss shook her head, in utter shock at how a mother could be so damned cruel and out of touch with her own daughter. It made her feel a pang of sympathy for Mary’s mother despite never having known her. Fliss couldn’t imagine what she would do without either of her parents being as supportive as they were.

Evelyn must have answered as by the time Fliss turned her attention fully to what she was saying, Cullen had asked another question.

“And how did she take it?”

“She was upset for a while. She lost focus.”

“She lost focus” Cullen said, turning back to the desk and picking up a small file “Mrs. Adler,” he turned back, file in hand “…in March of 2001 didn’t Diane Adler attempt to take her own life?”

“This episode was minor. It was nothing.” Evelyn said, her tone harsh.

“Nothing?” Fliss drew in a breath, shaking her head. For a moment she almost lost herself in another memory, of one rainy afternoon in Boston in October 2015…but she took a deep breath and focussed on where she was, as Cullen flashed the file at Evelyn.

“I have the hospital report in my hand.” he informed her

Fliss watched as Evelyn leant forward, her face creased in anger as hissed “You have no idea of the capability she possessed. One in a billion. And you would say fine, let’s throw that away, so the boy who cuts our yard can make sexual conquest? Well maybe before you make that decision, you stand in my shoes .I had responsibilities, which went beyond the mother-daughter relationship.”

She took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice louder this time “The greatest discoveries, which have proved life on this planet have come from minds rarer than radium. Without them, we’d still be crawling in mud. And for your information, counsellor, a year after this incident with this boy Diane thanked me for my intervention. She realized she’d made a mistake and she thanked me. You see, Diane understood. She’s was accountable for the gift she’d been given. And she didn’t shy from it.”

Every inch of Evelyn’s face was contorted with a mixture of pain and anger, and she radiated absolute fury across the courtroom as her rant built to its climax

There was a pause as she took a breath and sat back.

“No more questions.” Cullen said simply, turning back to his seat.

Fliss watched Frank who shifted, rubbing his chin with his left hand, his fingers curling round his jaw in an L shape as he stared at this mother.

***** When Mary returned home on the bus, Frank did his best to remain positive and keep his broodings to himself, and was thankful when Fliss suggested they head out for dinner. The four of them headed to the same restaurant he had met his mother at not long before. He ate, not really tasting his food, or listening as Fliss and Roberta chatted away. Instead his attention was completely on Mary who was stood with one of the waitresses at another table, where Mary was pouring sand out of one of the bottles that was used to keep the tablecloths from blowing away. The thought that she could be without such simple pleasure of looking through sand for shells, and lost to a world pressure and solitude like Diane had been killed him.

“Hey…” he felt someone squeeze his hand at the same time Mary held up a shell and showed it to him. He took a deep breath and tried to rearrange his face into a smile as his fingers tightened around Fliss’s.

“You know until I met you I thought sitting on steps drinking beer was something only red necked hillbillies did.” Fliss teased him when they were alone later that evening, Mary asleep inside the apartment as they sat outside the kitchen door, shoulder to shoulder along the top rung.

“Well, according to my mother that’s what I am.” he scoffed.

“And according to me your mother is a callous, cold hearted bitch.” Fliss said, with such venom it made Frank look at her. She took a deep breath, her voice softening “How can anyone dismiss a suicide attempt as nothing.”

Frank looked away, taking a pull from his beer. They sat in silence for a moment before Fliss broke it.

“You know back in 2015, about 18 months after we’d gotten married…I almost did it you know? Killed myself.”

Frank’s head turned to face her. She wasn’t looking at him, instead she remained focussed on a spot in the distance as she looked straight ahead. “My life was out of my control, and it was the only way I could think of getting some of that control back. So I took a shit load of buproprion and washed it down with half a litre of vodka.”

“Shit, Lissy I…” She waved his sympathy off and continued “After that I was offered all this help and support and…” she snorted bitterly “I still went back to him. He convinced everyone, including me that the issue was the fact that I was still brooding over my career being cut so short…and then told me that having a kid would fix the issue. In reality there was no issue to fix. I wasn’t depressed as such, I was abused. And that was simply another way of him taking control”

After a moment she turned to look at him, “And I’m not saying your mother abused Diane, not as such but she isolated her for her own, selfish reasons…no matter how she tries to dress them up or convince herself that it was for Diane’s own good. That first suicide attempt your sister would have made a normal, loving parent sit up and pay attention to what was going on. I know it did mine, as Bill never trusted John’s explanation, not one word.” “I should have done more too.” Frank said, looking down “But I was so busy, wrapped up in my finals and…”

“Frank, you were what? 20 and preparing for finals at Harvard.” Fliss frowned “Diane wasn’t your responsibility, you’re not her parent.”

“No but when Dad died, I promised I’d take care of her, always be there for her. I should have done more, and I should have known…when she turned up that day…”

“Frankie…” Fliss cut him off, her hand taking his “Take it from me, my mum and dad and brother went through all of this in their head. Did Diane give you any warnings at all because I know I didn’t? Look at the lies and the world of fantasy I let John build up round me and detract from what was going on. I told nobody I was gonna do it Frank. And I told no body why I did it either.”

Frank sniffed and wiped at his nose slightly with his free hand.

“So you can either carry on beating yourself up over something that isn’t your fault or you can concentrate on getting the best outcome here for Mary.”

“Are you planning on coming tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Fliss.

“Yeah, Joanne is covering again.”

“I don’t want to put you out…” he began but she shook her head.

“It’s sorted.” Fliss smiled. “She wants the week of Thanksgiving off so she’s racking up the favours.”

“Well, from a selfish reason I’m glad.” he said, flexing his fingers against hers, looking down at where they were entwined.

“I’m not missing your testimony, if only for the sole reason of discovering what your full name is.” she teased. Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Francis Preston Adler, nice to meet you.” he tipped his bottle in her direction. “Preston?” She snorted “Get out of town! There’s a place in England called Preston, it’s like 30 miles away from my home!”

Frank smiled, before he sighed.

“Last day tomorrow isn’t it?” Fliss looked at him as he stared straight ahead.

He let out a breath “Yeah, well last day of evidence…then we have to wait for however long it takes him to read all the reports and make a ruling.”

“Well then, I suggest you get some sleep, or as much as you can.” she said, and with that she released his hand and stood up. Frank did the same and he smiled as she leaned up and he ducked his head so she could kiss his cheek. “Oh, and FYI I got an absolute interrogation off Roberta before when you did that. Felt like it was me in the dock, not Evelyn.” For the first time all evening Frank laughed.

******

The gloomy, rainy morning matched Frank’s mood perfectly.

He sat in the dock dressed in his suit this time paired with a light green shirt and a dark blue and silver tie, feeling as out of place as anyone could. Cullen went through the questions he had coached Frank on, questions designed not to paint him as a saint but as a normal person, doing the best he could for his niece in line with his sister’s wishes. Frank answered them honestly. Was he perfect? No. Had he done things correctly? No. Did he wish he had spotted Diane was struggling? Yes. Did he love Mary and want the best for her? Yes.

The questions continued along those lines until they broke for lunch. And then came the cross examination, and Frank knew he was in for a beating.

“Mr. Adler where are you currently employed?” Highsmith asked sitting on the desk to the left of Evelyn.

“I repair boats.” Frank answered clearly

“Oh, really? At which marina?”

“I don’t work at a marina. I freelance.”

“So, safe to say, no health insurance.”

“No.” Frank shook his head

“About a week before your sister took her life what were you doing for a living then?”

“I was a teacher.” Frank replied.

“You’re being modest, aren’t you?” Highsmith said, standing up and walking towards the dock “You were a professor at Boston University Isn’t that right?

“Yes, well, assistant professor.”

“And what’d you teach?”

“Philosophy.” Frank said, looking at him

“Truth and logic. That sort of thing” Highsmith gestured with his hands and Frank simply smile as he continued “Your attorney said that the primary reason that you took Mary is because it was what your sister would’ve wanted you to do. Is that a truth?”

“Yes.” Frank implored

“So Diane had visited Pinellas County before?”

“No” frank said with almost an air of amusement on his face as he looked at his mother for a second before he looked down and joined his hands in front of him in his lap.

“She indicated she wanted her daughter rooted and moved here?

Frank shook his head, closing his eyes “No”

“No.” Highsmith repeated “So you decided to bring Mary here, didn’t you?”

Frank licked his lips and drew in a deep breath as he simply stared as his mother. He was pleased so see her shift in her seat

“Did Diane had a problem with your health plan at Boston University?” Highsmith pressed.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Do you think she would want her daughter to have access to healthcare?”

Dumbass question

“Of course.” Frank nodded.

“So what do you do, when little Mary gets sick? You repair a doctor’s boat?”

Frank scoffed a laugh as Cullen objected.

The questions continued. He was asked why he turned down the scholarship at the Oaks in favour of learning at a first grade level, a level way below that she was capable of. The rain continued to drive down as did Highsmith’s questions, as they were punctuated every so often by a low rumble of thunder from the outside storm.

“Prior to Mrs. Adler giving her one. Did Mary have a computer?”

“She used mine.”

“Mr. Adler, does Diane’s daughter have her own bedroom?”

“No.”

“Does she sleep in a bed that you bought in a second hand shop?”

“Yes” Frank looked ahead, focussing on keeping calm as Highsmith walked towards the dock, gesturing now with his hands, his tone winding up

“So, the truth is, Mr. Adler that you didn’t come down here because your sister wanted it to and you certainly didn’t come here because it was good for Mary.”

Frank swallowed slightly and shifted a little, avoiding looking at the man as he tapped his hand on the side of the dock.

“No, it was personal. Diane was a star. You weren’t. Diane got the attention. You didn’t.”

Frank scoffed silently, oh please, and turned to look in the opposite direction.

“..and over the years You got angry. And here comes Mary. What a great way to get even.

“You’ve uprooted that little girl and brought her here for 1 reason only. To do harm to your mother. You blamed her for your sister.”

“No, I don't” Frank broke his silence.

“And Mary to you is just a pawn in all this.”

And that did it, Mary wasn’t a pawn. She was a little girl, a little girl who he was doing is best by.

“Diane wanted Mary… to be a kid” Frank’s voice betrayed his desperation and emotion, and he knew that…but now he was past caring, this was the truth, it was how he felt, and he was nothing if not honest. He locked eyes with his mother as he spoke, driving his words home “.She wanted her to have a life. She wanted her to have friends and to play…”

At that his mother looked away, her eyes glistening but Frank kept his on hers as she turned back to him, his final words were almost whispered

“…and to be happy.”

“You realize the consequences of boredom for a gifted child, Mr. Adler? They become resentful and sullen.”

“Mary’s not an angry kid.” Frank said, his voice calm once more.

“Really? Did she not attack a child on the school bus?”

Shit.

“A 12 year old tripped a 7 year old and she came to his defense.” Frank said, shrugging slightly

“Did she break the boy’s nose?”

“Yes.” Frank said, a little louder as he nodded.

“On October 16th last year, were you arrested for assault?”

“Oh, my God.” Frank groaned, and he looked down before he glanced back up, momentarily locked eyes with Fliss who he noticed had taken a deep breath. He looked back down, shaking his head

“You have to answer the question Mr. Adler.” Judge Nicholls reminded him

Frank swallowed and focussed on a spot on the varnished surface of the wood in font of him, just by the microphone. “A drunk idiot attacked me and I defended myself. What does that have to do…”

“Did you spend the night in jail?” Highsmith cut him off.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded.

“You are in way over your head here. You’re depriving that girl…”

Frank stayed still, shaking his head and glaring at his mother, all the while Highsmith continued ranting on at him

“…you’re gambling with her future and now you being presented with an opportunity to do right by her.”

“Does council have a question for my client?” Cullen said loudly

“Take the high road, Mr. Adler before she’s rapidly damaged.”

“Does council have a question for my client or not?” Cullen said, standing up.

“Yes, sir. I do have a question.” Highsmith said “Tell us. Is your continued guardianship really in the best interest of this little girl?

He stared at his mother, as he lifted his chine and spoke loudly and clearly.

“Yes.Yes, it is.”

“I have no further questions.” Highsmith spoke.

Frank scratched at his head and left the dock. Following the summing up, they were all dismissed. Frank shook Greg’s hand who told him he would be in touch Frank left the courtroom with Roberta, Fliss nowhere to be seen. He took a deep breath, realising she was probably going to run a mile after hearing about the assault. That wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. However, to his amazement and joy she was waiting for him by his truck. Roberta nodded to him and made an excuse to nip over the road to the store for a water leaving them to talk alone.

“Thought you’d gone?” he said gently.

“No I had to take a call from Joanne about a lesson… why would I leave without saying goodbye?” she frowned

“The assault”

Fliss sighed “Frank, I admit it was a shock to hear but…”

“At least let me explain.” he shrugged.

“There’s really no need…we all do dumb shit right?”

“He was a drunk idiot.” Frank cut her off “I was actually out with a friend, Jacob and his fiancée, Lisa, that night. Jake had gone to the bathroom and this guy bumped into us and sent Lisa flying into the table, knocking a load of glasses over. When I told him to be careful he took a swing at me only he missed and, well I didn’t…”

“You’re a regular knight in shining armour Sailor.” she smiled before she looked at him softly. “I know that was hard today. I was so angry and the things he was saying to you but…it’s done now. Try not to think on it because you can’t change the outcome. Whatever it is, you did your best.”

He smiled again as she took a deep breath.

“Look, I have to go, I have a lesson in an hour now this rain has let up, but…what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Working.” he said, chuckling as she raised her eyebrow “ Yeah I know, second Friday night in a row but…well I’m behind thanks to this case and whilst Roberta has Mary I can get a good few hours in and then get my head down before she comes back at midday”

“How about I keep you company?” she asked, “Only if that’s ok?”

Frank smiled “As long as you don’t distract me too much.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**** Turns out Fliss wasn’t the distraction, Cullen was. He rocked up at the garage Frank was working at just as he was explaining to Fliss the different components of the oil filter he was working on, nudging her as she gave a loud, exaggerated yawn. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the flash in her eyes as she looked him quickly up and down, taking in his dirty jeans, hands covered in oil and his long sleeved thin blue sweater which he knew fit him pretty well. Part of the reason he had worn it.

“Hey…” Cullen said.

“Hey.” Frank frowned “What’s…” “I wanted to do this in person.” Greg said.

“I’ll er, give you a moment.” Fliss said. She went to leave but Frank caught her elbow gently.

“No, stay, please…” he said. She looked at him for a second and nodded.

Cullen explained how Highsmith had called him first thing that morning saying that they wanted to cut a deal which would see Mary in a fostering situation. Frank dismissed the notion straight up and Cullen continued to try and win him round, informing him that they could cherry pick and that it would be mutually approved and he’d already found a family in Tampa, which was what he had been working on all day. He continued to explain how Mary would attend the Oaks and Evelyn would get visiting rights and that when Mary was 12 she could go back into court and decide where, and with who, she wanted to live.

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” Frank cut his friend off, glaring at him “Why are you bringing me this deal?

“Other than I’m required to by law?” Greg looked back at him, and then suddenly Frank understood.

“You like this deal?” he asked

“I love this deal.” Greg noded.

“They think they’re gonna lose.” Frank leaned on the work-desk in front of him, looking at Cullen.

“Yeah. They do.”

“You think we’re gonna lose.”

“Yes.” Greg replied honestly. “I do, Frank.”

Frank looked down, swallowing before he turned to his friend.

“I gotta go put my kids to bed. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. But, if we leave this up to the judge…Nicholls, he’s old school, Frank. Does he like your mother? No. Does he like her income? Does he like her health plan? Does he like her home? You better believe it.”

Frank looked down again, shaking his head, unable to do anything else.

“I’ve been in his courtroom. A hundred times. And if it’s a coin toss…Look at me.”

Frank turned to Greg, his arms still leaning on the top, muscles straining as he grasped at a wrench in front of him in frustration, something to squeeze.

“If it’s a coin toss, that old boy is going to side with the money.” Greg said gently “So, do me a favour, Frank. Just meet the family. See how it feels. It’s all I ask.” with that he took a deep breath. “I gotta go…see you later. Goodnight Fliss.”

“Night…” she said to him, watching him leave.

“I don’t know what to do.” he looked at her, and every single emotion he had been holding back cascaded over him in a wave and he felt utterly and hopelessly overwhelmed. He couldn’t stop the tears brimming in his eyes and he bowed his head, once more leaning on the desk. He felt a warm pair of hands gently on his arm, nudging him to turn slightly and he did so to look at Fliss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a gently hug. He pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder, his tears falling gently onto her soft skin as she smoothed a hand through his hair, gently soothing him.

“Sorry…” he said after a moment pulling back.

“Hey…” she said, ducking slightly, her hands now on his face as she wiped his tears with her thumbs, her own now filling her eyes. “Don’t ever apologise to me for being upset, Frankie. I told you, I was here for the road trip remember? However bumpy the ride. I’m not going anywhere Sailor.”

He let out a soft, watery laugh as he dropped his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as hook a deep breath, composing himself.

“You now no ones called me Frankie since I was a little kid” he smiled.

“Well it suits you.” she smiled, pulling away slightly. “You good?” He nodded, moving back out of her arms. “Do you think I should go?” he asked “Meet this family?”

“Frank…”she said gently “I can’t answer that.” “What would you do?”

“I honestly don’t know.” she shook her head. “I suppose there’s no harm in meeting them but, you have to be sure this is what is right for Mary. But I do know one thing, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there all the way.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. He gently took her hand and raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Thankyou.”

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @icanfeelastormbrewing @pagesoflauren

#frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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fyeahwildfire · 5 years ago

Text

Spirit Bound

Chapter 4

Summary: Scorpion demands a match with Sub-Zero to get his revenge on his family and clan. How will you save Sub-Zero’s life?

Pairing: Mortal Kombat x reader; Bucky x reader (later)

Warning: swearing, angst

A/N: Italics= thoughts

You, Lui Kang, Raiden, Jax, Sonya, and Johnny were surrounded by other participants. You stood between Raiden and Liu Kang.

Raiden looks over to the side and notices one of the guards standing beside Cyrax. He gets another vision, one of Kung Lao fighting against Baraka. He leaves you and Lui Kang as he goes over to Kung Lao. Uh oh.

“Kombatants! The next match will now begin!” Shang Tsung sat atop his throne, looking high and mighty.

A burst of fire suddenly erupts before your eyes, standing inside the fire is none other than Scorpion. You look at him with awe as the crowd claps. That’s fucking awesome. He looks like a total badass.

Johnny and Lui Kang look at each other, their both wondering who is going to be facing him.

“Scorpion! Specter of the Netherrealm. Resurrected by the sorcerer Quan Chi! Who among you is worthy of this challenge?”

“Where is the Lin Kuei Sub-Zero? He killed my family and clan. I will have his head.” Scorpion looked among the competitors.

Aw shit. Damn it. Bi-Han stay the fuck away. You thought as you internally panic. You can’t lose your half-brother. You haven’t even gotten the chance to speak with him.

You narrow your eyes at Scorpion. He will not touch your brother. Not if you have anything to say.

“I accept the challenge.” Kung Lao steps forward and throws down the spear.

“Kung Lao.” Lui Kang says his voice laced with disbelief.

“Never mind the Lin Kuei. Now you face a Shaolin.” Kung Lao runs his two fingers across his razor-sharp hat and assumes a fighting stance.

“You will regret your impulsiveness.” Scorpion gets into his fight stance as well.

“So how good of a fighter is your friend?” You whispered to Lui Kang.

“Uh, he could use more training.” Lui Kang was worried for his friend’s well-being.

“So, he’s gonna get his Shaolin ass kicked.” Johnny said bluntly.

You and your new friends watch as Kung Lao and Scorpion fight. You cringe the moment you hear the crack of bones.

“Oh that’s gotta hurt.” You watch in shock as the powers of Scorpion prove too much for Kung Lao.

The fight between Scorpion and Kung Lao continues for a good 13 minutes, however the former soon beats Kung Lao into unconsciousness. “You are not yet a warrior.”

Without thinking, you run over to Kung Lao and place his head in your lap. Lui Kang follows behind you and kneels beside his good friend.

“Listen when your elders speak! You could not win this fight.” Raiden stands on the other side of Kung Lao.

“Perhaps, you should lecture him after...you know when he’s not fucked up.” You narrow your eyes towards Raiden.

How could he say such things to a person, who clearly wanted to prove himself worthy? No matter what anyone says, you thought Kung Lao was brave to face Scorpion and for that he earned your respect.

Scorpion is staring directly at you. He sees how you comfort the man who he defeated. How you scolded Raiden for berating Kung Lao. It was impressive that you would say such things to Lord Raiden not many would.

You sense eyes on you and look up to see Scorpion taking you in. You want to glare at him and tell him to stay the fuck away from Kung Lao and Bi-Han, but you can’t.

Scorpion had lost his family and clan, he believed your brother Bi-Han was responsible. You understood his pain, more than anyone else here, but you needed to find out the truth. For both their sakes.

You and Lui Kang help Kung Lao to his feet and drag him away.

“I have defeated the challenger, Shang Tsung! I demand Sub-Zero!”

You have been keeping a close eye on Raiden’s visions. He had another vision only this time it was Scorpion holding the decapitated head of Bi-Han. You gasp as you feared that would be the fate of your brother. No. You have to try. Something. Anything to save Bi-Han.

But first you have to help Kung Lao. You and Lui Kang walk past Scorpion, to find a place where Raiden can heal Kung Lao’s wounds. You place him next to Johnny and watch the fight between Nightwolf and Scorpion. It was an impressive battle but Scorpion ended up taking the win.

“The spirits have forsaken you, Shaman.” Scorpion sees Nightwolf slowly rise back onto his feet.

“An impressive start?” Shang Tsung nods his head respectively.

“You waste my time, sorcerer!” Scorpion raises his fiery fist up in the air.

“Restraint, Scorpion.” A tall, well-built man with red eyes spoke. He was completely devoid of any hair. No hair on his head, face, and chest. He also had a strange symbol on his forehead. You also spotted an authentic amulet on his belt.

Scorpion huffs out a grunt and diffuses the fire in his hands. You raise your brow, finding it strange that the man had such a hold on Scorpion. Your attention is brought back to Kung Lao as he is all healed up.

“Are you alright, Kung Lao?”

Kung Lao registers the sound of your sweet voice. His breath hitches as his eyes meet yours. He’s flirted with many women in the past, but you, you weren’t just any women. You were the type of women who made men want to marry. Your beauty could not rival another’s. In his eyes, you were a Queen.

“Yes, Lady Y/N. I am alright.” He smiles warmly. “Lui Kang and Raiden have already explained your situation to me. It’s an honor to meet you.”

You smile, “Same. Not many would challenge a man such as Scorpion and for that you have my respect.”

Kung Lao eyes widen with shock and happiness. No one has said such words to him. His closest friends and mentors had constantly compared him to the “chosen one” Lui Kang. Even Lui Kang himself, but you, you respected him even though he was defeated.

“You respect him for losing.” Lui Kang asked curiously, it did not make any sense.

“For Bravery. Many would coward upon seeing a man like Scorpion, but Kung Lao didn’t.” You smile and turn to watch the interaction between Scorpion and Shang Tsung.

You are aware of the two Shaolin’s looking at you. However, your smile turns upside down the moment you hear your brother’s name.

“You will fight Sub-Zero soon enough.” Shang Tsung stands up from his throne and takes his leave, with Quan Chi following.

The two Shaolin’s are concerned with your sudden change in demeanor.

Scorpion lowers his head and ponders recent events. You and Raiden approach Scorpion with determination to save your brother Bi-Han.

“Scorpion, I understand your desire for revenge. But Nightwolf is right. There are other ways in which you may find peace.”

“Sub-Zero deserves death.” Scorpion replies back to Raiden.

“No, he doesn’t.” You fold your arms underneath your breasts.

“Defeat Sub-Zero if you must, but do not kill him. I fear his death will give rise to a more treacherous foe.”

Ignoring Raiden’s words Scorpion says, “I will have my revenge.”

“You know what?” You unfold your arms, to clench both of your fists.

You hear Raiden’s telepathic thoughts warning you not to anger this man before both of you. For your sake and Bi-Han’s.

You take long, slow steady breaths. “Spare Sub-Zero’s life, please. Do not kill him. Raiden can request that the Elder Gods return the Shirai Ryu to the realm of mortals.”

Scorpion looked between both you and Raiden for a moment, his eyes lingered on you a bit longer until he nodded.

You sigh with relief, oh sweet sweet Suzan. I’m so scared at the thought of losing Bi-Han, I can’t even swear right now.

You immediately realize Raiden had already walked off to meet with Lui Kang and Kung Lao. The two Shaolin’s await your return to their side. They all but beg you to stay away from Scorpion, but you can’t at least not now. You had to get to the bottom of what happened to the Shirai Ryu and Lin Kuei.

You flash him a nervous smile. He doesn’t smile back. He watches you for a moment longer, but then he turns his back.

“You know I get it. I understand how you feel.”

Scorpion stops but doesn’t turn. You walk up to him and hear the thoughts of Lui Kang and Kung Lao telling you to get away and run.

“You know Nightwolf is right about many things.” You sigh sadly, you don’t exactly like bringing up your past, but if this was a way to get Scorpion on Earthrealms side then you would do what you have to. Not just for Bi-han, but for Kuai Liang, Tony, and Earthrealm. “You are not the only one whose people have been victimized. Would you care to join me for a stroll, away from prying ears?”

Scorpion nods and walks with you, you tell him all about how your family’s bloodline had been hunted down, all because they desired the Soultaker sword. How your mother was wronged. How she was killed by the Red Dragon clan.

“Do you no longer cling to the past?” Scorpion had listened intently, he hated how the Red Dragon clan took your mother away from you. You were just a child.

“No. I still find myself wishing the outcomes were different. What more could I have done to save her?” You have to suppress the tears from coming down. “Honestly, a part of me does want retribution. Not for honor or justice, but…for revenge. To see them suffer. To watch there empire burn.” You stay quiet for a moment, until you speak again. “But then I realize. If I do seek revenge…what would that get me? My mother won’t come back. I will only end up losing myself…my soul.”

Scorpion wanted to scoff, but he didn’t. The more he spoke with you, he realized you and he were from different worlds, yet you both shared similar pain. He once lived with a clan of assassins and you lived a somewhat-normal lifestyle outside of Mortal Kombat. Now, you both were thrown into the battles of Mortal Kombat, to reveal Earthrealms fate.

“Is that why you asked me not to kill Sub-Zero? For my soul?”

“Part of it.” You smile sadly.

Scorpion raises his brow, “Part?”

“Sub-Zero is my half–brother.” You look into his eyes, seeing shock and anger.

“Half-brother?”

“Yes, he and I share the same mother. His father left my mother and took her sons away so they could join the Lin Kuei.” You explained, hoping to diffuse his anger.

“So you told me all of this just to save Sub-Zero. He murdered my family, my soulmate and clan…”

“We don’t know that. You’ve only heard one side of the story. Quan Chi could be lying to you.” I ball my hands into fists. “Let me talk to Sub-Zero and I promise you I will find out who killed your family.”

Scorpion’s eyes widen, he had just met you and yet you were willing to help him find the true killer of his family and clan. Why? What could you possibly gain from this aside from saving Bi-Han? Could Quan Chi be lying? Would you lie to him?

“I give you my word Scorpion. I will find out who killed your family. I may not have been able to save my mother, but I…”

“And If Quan Chi is right?”

“Then you’ll have to kill me, because I will not let you harm my brother. And if you do, you ruin any chances of having your clan restored.”

Scorpion nods, as his anger diffused as he remembers the agreement with Raiden. “How will you find out…?”

“I’m telepathic.” You smirk. “Just don’t tell Quan Chi. Don’t need that asshole to ruin any of my plans.”

“Very well. You have my word I will not tell Quan Chi and… I will spare your brother’s life.”

“Thank you.” You bow respectively. “You know how incredibly lucky you are? You have an actual chance to have the Shirai Ryu return to the living. Wow. Fuck, I wish I had that option.”

“For your mother.” Scorpion walked with you as you both headed back to Shang Tsung’s throne room.

You nod, “Yea. For my father and stepmother too.”

“Did the Red Dragons…”

“Oh! No, they died in a car crash.” You look down to the ground.

“I’m sorry for your losses.”

You shrug, “Why you didn’t kill them. It’s life. It happens. Now all I have left is Tony, Sub-Zero, and my other half-brother I have yet to meet.”

Scorpion looks at you carefully, you had lost so much and yet that loss didn’t make you into a vengeful woman. In fact, it made you kind, caring, brave, and strong. All you truly desired was to save the last living members of your family and for that Scorpion vowed to protect you.

His took notice of the tattoo on your forearm, “What of your soulmate?”

“What?”

He nudges his head towards your forearm.

“Oh. This. I have yet to meet him. I don’t know if I want to, to be honest. My life has been rather complicated and to involve him...” You shake your head. “...Its best if I avoid him all together.”

Several kombatants are standing around discussing things with one another. You and Scorpion walk into the throne room together, both of you see Cyrax and Sektor huddled together.

“I understand there are benefits to the Grand Master’s plan…” Cyrax speaks with Sektor. “…but his plan goes against Lin Kuei principles.”

“We are Lin Kuei, Cyrax. We will obey the Grand Master’s commands.”

You roll your eyes upon hearing two Lin Kuei members. You huff a grunt and from the corner of your eyes, you see Scorpion looking at you. “What?”

“You do not like the Lin Kuei either?”

“What? What makes you think that?”

Scorpion shrugs, “Perhaps it’s the way you tense upon seeing them.”

“I do not tense.” You scoff playfully.

“You’re tense right now.”

You relax your shoulders and glare your eyes at Scorpion. “I’m starting to regret befriending you. Woah! Hey, where are you going?” You follow behind Scorpion as he makes his way over to Cyrax and Sektor.

“It means giving up our free will…our souls. It will turn us into…” Cyrax is interrupted by Sektor, who points out Scorpion’s presence with you in tow.

“Scorpion.” Sektor voice is laced with disgust.

“Your inferior clan is dead. Soon you will join them.” Cyrax holds his head up and threatens Scorpion.

“Excuse me, wannabe ninja…” You stand beside Scorpion and send a deathly glare at the two Lin Kuei members. “…if you don’t have anything nice to say than keep that fucking mouth of yours shut.”

The three men are surprised to hear you say such a thing. Sektor glares at you while Cyrax finds it humorous. He laughs and holds your chin with his two fingers. “How cute. Didn’t know Scorpion found a replacement?”

“Do your best to keep your bitch on a leash, Scorpion.” Sektor told Scorpion.

Bitch! He called you Bitch! You cracked your knuckles. “Oh. It’s about to get real!”

Before you can pounce and hit the bastard, Scorpion beat you to it. He grabbed Cyrax’s wrist and removed his hand from you. “You will keep your filthy mouth shut and keep your blood soaked hands off, Y/N!”

Cyrax pushes Scorpion backwards to which he immediately goes into a fighting stance.

“A challenge! Scorpion versus Cyrax and Sektor!” Shang Tsung announces with Quan Chi standing beside him.

“Your obsession with Sub-Zero ends here.” Cyrax goes into a fighting stance.

Before you could stand beside Scorpion and offer aid, Kung Lao grabs ahold of your hand and pulls you to stand next to him, Raiden, and Liu Kang. The three of you watch as both Sektor and Cyrax are defeated despite being formidable warriors.

“I will have my revenge, but I will not kill Sub-Zero.” Scorpion looks over to you and Raiden. Both you and Raiden smile and nod.

“Will not? Or cannot?” Sub-Zero walks into the throne room.

You groan mentally, Come on. Seriously!

“You.” Scorpion seethes as he stalks towards Sub-Zero.

While everyone watches the intense interaction between Scorpion and Sub-Zero, you had read Scorpions thoughts.

Oh hell! I need to stop him before he does something he might regret. You thought.

“The Shirai Ryu are dead. You will suffer as they did.” Scorpion seethes.

“To hell with your clan.” Sub-Zero insults back.

“No…to hell with you!” Scorpion goes up in flames and grabs ahold of Bi-han, teleporting him somewhere else.

You try to find a way to get to Bi-han when you heard Quan Chi’s thoughts, he wanted to antagonize Scorpion and see him kill Sub-Zero. You quickly sneak past the other kombatants and just as he is about to teleport you grab ahold of his belt undetected.

You are teleported to a place that looked like hell. You look over Quan Chi’s shoulder to see Bi-han beaten into submission.

“I have avenged my family and clan.” Scorpion speaks over Bi-Han’s unconscious body.

“This is your retribution?” Quan Chi walks closer to Scorpion and doesn’t realize you behind him. “Scorpion. Kill him.”

“I…I will not. He has been beaten.” Scorpion looks at Bi-Han and can’t find it in himself to kill him. Not after his conversation with you.

“Have you forgotten?” Quan Chi shows Scorpion a vision of an entire village up in flames. The Shirai Ryu clansmen are cut down by a hail of arrows. Others are decapitated and murdered by the Lin Kuei clansmen. Among the horseback riders is Sub-Zero.

You stepped closer seeing all that had transpired, this was the reason why the Lin Kuei and Scorpion were at odds. But, it made no sense as you delve into the minds of Bi-Han and Quan chi you were able to realize the truth.

Bi-Han regains consciousness and sees the vision’s before him.

“Your clan. Your family.” Quan Chi showed Scorpion another vision, Scorpion’s wife/soulmate and infant child huddled in the corner of their home. The baby’s wail of terror breaks your heart and sends a chill up your spine.

The door opens to reveal your brother Sub-Zero with his sword in hand. He’s unmoved by Scorpion’s wife’s tears as he brings down his blade. Blood is splattered against the walls along with the petals of a rose worn in his wife’s hair.

“NOOO!” Scorpion yells with pure rage as the vision fades.

Bi-Han badly injured is up on his feet, holding his hand up in mercy. “That is not me!”

Consumed with rage, Scorpion rips off his mask and reveals his skull enveloped in flames.

You knew then that nothing would be able to stop Scorpions rage, but you had to try and defend your brother, even if it were from Scorpion himself. You didn’t care about the consequences. All that mattered was Bi-Han’s safety.

You step out from behind Scorpion and Quan Chi, you then quickly rush over to stand in front of Bi-Han. Perhaps, you could try and reason with Scorpion. Only a fool would think to do such a thing.

Seeing you standing before Sub-Zero, Scorpion looks down at you. He can remember the conversation he had with you, but his rage had all but consumed him. He took a step forward, only for you to raise your glowing green hands.

“Move aside.” He growled.

“No. I told you before if it came to this, you would have to kill me too. I will not let you kill him.”

“He killed my clan! My wife! My son! He deserves death.”

“If Scorpion truly wishes to avenge his family and clan, then he must kill Sub-Zero.” Quan Chi looks at you. “Who are you to deny him that?”

You narrow your eyes at Quan Chi, “Someone who knows the truth, you liar. When all you have done is use Scorpion’s wrath to your advantage.” You look over to Scorpion. “Remember the promise you made to me and Raiden. You kill Bi-Han and that promise goes away.”

Scorpion takes a moment to think it over. You take careful slow steps towards him.

“Please Hanzo. Don’t kill him. I told you I would find the truth and I have….”

Scorpion looks up and you can see the flames in his eyes dimming.

“Truth? What truth?” Quan Chi spoke from beside Scorpion. “Enough of this! Kill the girl and Sub-Zero, so we can be on our way.”

“I gave you my word. I stand by that.”

Hanzo nods and places his mask back on. You sigh with relief as you don’t have to fight against Scorpion.

Back in the throne room of Shang Tsung…

All the kombatants stand and talk amongst each other as they have no idea if either Sub-Zero or Scorpion will come back alive. Kung Lao and Lui Kang were both worried for your well-being, they had no time to stop you from teleporting away with Quan Chi.

Scorpion reappears in the throne room, he steps aside to reveal you supporting Sub-Zero.

You look up to see Raiden giving you a nod of approval. “Alright Bi-Han, let’s get you to my room so we can patch you up. I don’t think this place has an infirmary.”

Lui Kang and Kung Lao both ranted about how dangerous and careless that is was for you to sneak past them and teleport away with Quan Chi. They followed you out the room and continued their ranting. Raiden just shook his head, his two students were completely smitten with you and concerned for your well-being.

Sub-Zero listened to the never-ending rants of Lui Kang and Kung Lao. If he wasn’t struggling to walk, he would have kicked both of their asses, just to get them to shut up. He looked down at you and could nearly see a vein pop in your forehead.

Once you reached your bedroom chambers, you immediately closed the doors behind you. You could not hear another word from Lui Kang and Kung Lao.

Behind closed doors of your room, you placed Sub-Zero down on the bed and began tending to his wounds. The look on your face, resemble to that of his mother.

“A little advice, do not insult Scorpions family or clan. In fact, just stay away from Scorpion.” You moved around your room to grab all the necessities you need to bandage Bi-Han. “Fuck, if I not been there you would have died.” You mumbled the last part to yourself.

Bi-Han winces as he struggles to sit up from your bed. “I thank you….” He didn’t exactly know who you were or why you decided to save him.

“My name is Y/n.” You return to the bedside with your equipment in hand.

“Thank you, Y/n. I don’t understand how you were able to teleport to us? But…”

“I didn’t teleport to you. I snuck up behind Quan Chi and grabbed onto his belt.” You wring the soaked rag in your hands and begin to wipe all the blood of his chest.

“So you have mastered stealth. Impressive.” He grunts when you cleaned around his wound. He grabs ahold of your wrist to temporarily stop you from bandaging him. “Why did you interfere? Why did you save me?”

You narrow your eyes, “What you wanted to die?”

“It would have restored my honor and...”

You glared at Bi-Han, “Honor? There is no honor in dying because you lost a match. You are a fucking idiot to think so. Clearly you did not get our mother’s intelligence.”

You rose from your position and paced around the room as you continued to rant angrily. “Not many get a choice whether they live or die and you want to die. Be fucking grateful that you are alive…”

Sub-Zero watched as you ranted and paced around the room. Despite your age, you were clearly wiser than most your age. But then he caught onto one bit of information that you ranted angrily about. What did you mean by “our mother.” It was then he pieced it together. This whole time he wondered why you looked so familiar. Why you looked so much like his mother.

“You are my sister aren’t you?”

You stopped mid-ranting and looked into his eyes. You looked like his mother, but your eyes were not hers.

“Yes.” Your shoulders become less tense. After a moment of silence, you speak again. “Our mother would not want this life for you. To easily throw your life away when all she tried to do was give us a life of normalcy.”

You move to sit on the bed, your back facing Bi-Han and your eyes casted downwards. You scoff to yourself. “Who am I to talk? When I’m forced to do the same. If only she can see me now. She would be ashamed…her sacrifice would have been for nothing. She…”

“Sacrifice?” Bi-Han leaned forward despite the pain he was enduring. “What do you mean? Our mother is alive…isn’t she?”

When he receives no response from you, he places his hand on your shoulder. “How?”

“The Red Dragon clan killed her. They… wanted the soultaker sword.” You rise from your position and move to the door. “I’ll get Raiden to come and heal you. It was nice meeting you Bi-Han.”

Before Bi-Han could respond you had left out the door. He could see you concealing all the pain underneath. How just the slightest mention of your mother changed your demeanor. He realized then you had witnessed her death.

#mortal kombat x reader #bi-han x reader #scorpion x reader #lui kang x reader #kung lao x reader

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sicut-in-caelo-et-in-terra · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I came across your blog and I’m so happy I did. I recently started to open my eyes and wanted to know Jesus and I am beyond happy I did because I already feel like a more calming presence around me. However, I was wondering if you have advice on how to stop with the ‘false idols’ thing? I spent the last few years only feeling validated when getting notices, spending money or whatever for meeting celebrities I liked and I’m so exhausted + tired of doing this. I’m just scared of falling back

Thank you so much for the ask! And I'm so happy you've been coming to know Jesus!

Yeah, false idols are tough. We all have them, and there's extensive literature on why they're bad and how to get rid of them - read the writings of almost any Saint. The first one that comes to mind is St. Thérèse of Lisieux and her little way. For more info I would recommend reading one of her actual works like Story of a Soul, or you can read something about her writings by someone else, like I Believe in Love by Fr. Jean C. J. D'Elbée. But here's my take largely based on the Little Way.

Here's the thing that might kind of seem surprising to hear in a discourse on purging idols. Money, power, fame, sex (although sex is a bit complicated of a topic, for a different post), things you buy, food, celebrities, likes on social media, politics, all these things that can become idols, aren't actually intrinsically bad. They become bad when they become your source of meaning. They become bad when they become the center of your life. They become bad when they stand in between you and God. They become bad when you stop seeing them as gifts God has given you, and start seeing them as things you deserve, or things you need, or things you can't be happy without.

Okay, great, that's why we've come here, so that we can figure out how to make those things be not like that.

Let's talk about chocolate. Chocolate is good. Chocolate is exquisite. I love it. I just had a piece of chocolate earlier today because it was my cousin's wedding and my mom was making candy baggies for the guests and there was some candy left over. I had a dark chocolate Kit Kat. I ate it and it was great, and I didn't think much about it and went on with the rest of my day.

But before time began, before the creation of the angels, before the beginning - God, who would go on to create massive spheres of plasma millions of times bigger than the sun, and black holes and quasars and dazzling crystals of amethyst and waterfalls and physics and kittens, who would go on and send his dear Jesus to die because he would rather endure that pain than be separated from me, who even now has sent an angel to watch over me who is so powerful that he could extinguish any one of those gigantic stars with a swing of his sword, God said, "On October 10, 2020, my beloved son Jared is going to eat a dark chocolate Kit Kat bar and I can't wait to make him even just a little bit happy for it."

Like can you understand that?! This modicum of joy that I received, which I barely paid any mind to before moving on with my day, was a gift that since before it all happened God has been giddy to witness me experience. Even now as I move my thumb across the screen to write these words, God watches with utter love, in total enjoyment. You know how when you see a gif of a celebrity you like doing some normal movement in their day and you fall a little more in love? God experiences* a million billion kajillion times that, towards you, specifically, every second of every day.

(*to say 'God "experiences"' is not quite right but in this context it is a sufficient explanation even if not technically accurate)

Okay, so idols.

Everything that is good, is good because of God. And any and every good that happens to you, ever, is because God specifically wanted it for you (delight that comes from sin is not counted here as a good) because He loves you.

Why is there something rather than nothing? Why is there a you rather than no you? God doesn't need you, and He doesn't lack anything without you. He made you out of love, because He wants the good for you. Everything is a gift.

And suffering? That's also a gift. But for a different post.

So, go ahead and eat a dark chocolate Kit Kat bar. You might be tempted to think, "I deserve this." You might be tempted to eat the first one and then seek after infinite dark chocolate Kit Kat bars because you love them so much. You might be tempted to treat the dark chocolate Kit Kat bar as an end unto itself. I guess you might be tempted to construct a golden dark chocolate Kit Kat bar statue and have an orgy all around it until Moses comes down from the mountain and grinds it into powder, mixes it with water, and makes you drink it. But instead, do this - recite these words: "Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we have received from thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord." And really understand the words. Know that this is a gift, given to you freely by God. Let this dark chocolate Kit Kat bar be a sign, from God to you, that He loves you. That is what good things are for.

When all your candy is eaten for the candy's sake, or to vainly fill some hole that a wound has left in your heart, it will leave you, as you described, empty. But, properly ordered, no good thing will ever go to waste.

Now, some more practical tips (and anyone reading this please feel free to add)

1. Fast. This is a good practice for everyone, but especially if you've identified a particular idol in your life that you're having trouble ordering properly. If there's something that keeps making you feel empty, something that keeps getting in your way on your path to God, give it up. If it's not a sin, give it up only for a time, and break the fast sometimes. As Catholics we break our fasts on Sundays and solemnities to celebrate the Resurrection, but it's also a good practice because having something you really like but haven't had in a while, makes you appreciate it more and it's easier to see it as a gift. Also bask in the silence that has been brought to your life when this thing you often turn to is no longer available. It's uncomfortable at first but it's good.

2. Thankfuls. I do this every night, once over the phone with my girlfriend and once right before bed as part of my examen prayer. Now, psychologists are recommending it for people with depression as well so. Basically what you're going to do is review your day and notice the gifts you have been given. You can tell someone or write it down, or just pray it. Thank God for everything you've received. If your mind tends to wander like mine, I recommend with starting with a set number, like 3. Or try and think of everything you can.

3. Replace. This is another psychology tactic, also useful when conquering sin. Feeling like you want to watch porn? Draw instead (doesn't have to be a good drawing). Feeling like you're going to gossip? Excuse yourself and say a quick prayer instead. Gonna post something funny (and maybe a bit mean) for the sweet sweet dopamine from getting likes? Maybe journal instead. Have a plan for when you notice yourself being about to idol something. Fasting can enhance this practice cause it makes you more aware and more likely to catch yourself as well.

That was a very long post, but I hope it was helpful. Thank you for reading! And I'll be praying for you.

#ask #catholic #christian #jesus #christianity #god #mine #catholicism #answered #Thérèse of lisieux #gratitude #idols #thankfulness #fasting

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frunbuns · 5 years ago

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Why Would you do That?

Peter doesn’t make it home.

Read on Ao3

Miles doesn’t understand. Peter is an idiot. A whole big ass idiot. He shouldn’t have stayed. Why didn’t he go?

“Why did you do that?!”

Peter shrugs. He looks exhausted and worn out. He doesn’t seem scared. Not even after what Dock Ock had said at the Alchemax lab earlier. Miles can only imagine what it’s like to have the atoms in your body torn apart and stitched together like that. It looks very painful and he doesn’t envy the other spider-people.

“You’re so stupid, y'know!”

Peter chuckles. “Heard that before,” He says as he continues walking down the street. Miles following close behind.

“You should’ve just gone! I had it under controll!”

“What’s done is done, Miles. There’s no changing that!” Peter says, starting to sound slightly irritated.

Miles stops walking. “What about MJ?” He asks, causing Peter to stop abruptly. He visibly stiffens at the sound of MJ. “Didn’t you say wanted kids?”

Peter sighs, deflated, shoulders sagging. “It’s too late for that now.”

Miles swallows the urge to cry. “I don’t want you to die,” He says, voice cracking.

Peter turns around, and for the first time since they left the collider, he looks at Miles. He looks at him with sad eyes and a frown. “I’m sorry, kid,” He says as Miles wraps his arms around the older man. He hasn’t known Peter for long, but he’s grown quite attatched to him.

Peter pats his back as the teen sobs, soaking his suit in wet, salty tears.

“It’s okay.”

Miles embrace tightens.

Luckily there aren’t many people around right now. It is in the middle if the night, after all. He imagines this is quite a scene to witness.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Find somewhere quiet and out of the way and just wait, I guess.”

There’s a moment of silence as Miles thinks before he lets go of Peter and looks up at him. Bruised and beaten, but at the moment, very much alive. “We could go home to my place?” He suggests.

Peter grimaces. “What?”

“My mom probably won’t mind,” Miles says. “My dad might, but we can probably convince him–”

Peter sighs. “I can’t do that, Miles.”

“–and I don’t want you to be alone.”

Peter looks at him for a moment, dumbfounded. Miles sniffs quietly.

“Oh…”

Miles’ phone rings. He takes it out of the pocket in his suit. “Sorry, I have to pick this up. It’s my dad.”

—

“Mom?”

“Miles? Miles, how are you?”

Miles waves awkwatdly at his mother, stil clad in his Spider-man suit. “Hi,” He says, smiling innocently. “Has dad come home yet?” He asks.

Rio shakes her head. “No. Not yet. Why?”

“Do you think, uh, that my friend Peter can come in?” He asks, taking a step aside to let Peter into her field of vision. He’s also still wearing his suit.

Rio’s eyebrows furrow as Peter does a small wave at her. “Hello.”

She squints at him, studying his face until his body distorts into weird shapes and colors in front of her. Her eyes widen in shock, Peter’s moans of displeasure barely audible over the sound of the glitching. When it stops, Peter grips the railing as if he’s going to fall over, breathing shallowly.

Rio gapes for a second. “Of course, come in!” She says, carefully guiding the strange man into her home.

“That was unpleasant…” Peter mumbles as Rio closes the door.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” She asks.

“He’s not from around here,” Miles says.

“What?”

“An alternate dimension,” Miles explains to her. “And he missed his ticket home so can he please just stay here for a while?”

Rio looks down at her son. At his smile, that she now sees is a sad, forced one.

“It’s okay, I can just go–”

“What is going on?” She asks, looking between the two of them.

“Peter–” Miles looks down at his feet before looking up at her again. “Peter is gonna die. And he’s going to be in a lot of pain, and I don’t want him to be alone. I promise I’ll explain everything and you can ground me until college, just please let him stay.”

Rio sighs, running a hand down her face. What a fucking shitshow these last few days have been.

“Peter,” She says. He perks up at the sound of his name being spoken. “Would you care for some tea? A cup coffee?”

“Coffee would be great,” He responds.

“Great. Follow me,” She says, leading them into the house. “I just have to call my husband.”

—

Miles’ mom, Peter thinks, is really nice. She reminds him of aunt May and her endless hospitality. God, he misses her.

“Oh mi,” She says, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

She looks at Miles understandingly. Peter feels bad for the kid. Just lost his uncle and has to deal with this shit.

“Unbelievable.”

Miles’ dad on the other hand, slightly, just slightly, terrifys him. He understandingly wasn’t very happy about finding Spider-Man, who’s supposed to be dead, in his home. He had however been kind kind after they had managed to explain the situation.

“Yeah,” Miles, who bad changed into a set of normal clothes, suit hung over the back of a chair, says, staring into his cup of tea. “It’s been a rough couple of days to say the least.”

Peter still wore his. He doesn’t have any change. Not that it really matters anyway. He’s not going to need it soon.

Peter chuckles, dryly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You could say that.”

Jefferson chuckles too, but there isn’t really anything funny about it. They all know that. He supposes that’s what they have in common.

“How,” Jefferson hesitate for a moment. Unsure of how to ask. “How long do you have left?”

Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. Can’t be too long now.”

Suddenly, Peter gasps as sharp pain takes over his whole body. The others can only watch in horror. He manages to knock over his cup in the process, lukewarm coffee spilling onto the table. Miraculously nothing gets on his suit. He grips the table and the back of his chair as he blinks. He swears it gets worse every time.

Miles’ hands hower over him, unsure of what he can do for him. “Are you okay?”

He takes a couple of steadying breaths, willing his heart to slow its rapid beating. Rio rushes to get something to clean up the mess with.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter. It’s not your fault.”

Rio finishes whiping the table and throws the coffee stained paper towels in the trash.

“Would you maybe like to lay down, Peter?” She asks, sounding concerned.

Peter nods. Normally he wouldn’t just accept an offer like that. Escpecially not from people he didn’t know, but he really feels like shit right now and there’s nothing more he’d like.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

He gets up on shaky legs and slowly makes his way into the livingroom, towards the couch, Miles holding a comforting hand on his back.

Peter doesn’t deserve this. He really doesn’t. Miles’ family have been way too kind to him and they don’t even know him. Miles will become a great Spider-Man, he’s sure.

If that’s the one good thing he leaves behind he’s happy with it. Miles will be in good hands with May, his parents and the other spider-people if they ever figure out how to travel between the dimensions. He just wishes he could be around to witness it. Even if he hasn’t been the best teacher.

“You’ve all been too kind to be,"Peter says. "Really–”

“Nonsense, you saved our lives. This is the least we could do for you.”

“I apreciate the gesture. I–”

Miles yelps as Peter crumbles to the ground, wondering if it really can get worse than this. Can’t it just kill him now instead of prolonging his suffering like this. Better to just get it done with, right?

“Peter!”

“I think–” Peter lays there for a while, wheezing. “I think I’m just gonna lay here for a while if you don’t mind.”

And Peter does stay on the floor for the rest of the night. They stay up with him. Keeping him company as the glitching gets progressivly worse, catching him off guard each time and reducing him to a near whimpering mess.

What’s dignity when you’re literally dying anyway?

He’s learned quite a bit about the family. Rio works at a hospital. Where, he can’t remember, but it’s somewhere in Brooklyn. Jefferson works in the NYPD. Or PDNY as it’s called in this dimension. And Miles likes doing street-art, but he’s not really allowed.

In turn, Peter has told them his entire life story. From his parents, Ben, getting his powers, MJ, villains he’s fought and he might’ve even mentioned Flash at some point.

Might as well, right?

It’s not until the wee hours of the morning that it finally happens. Peter’s not sure what the time is, but he’s pretty sure the sun is about to come up. He feels bad for keeping them up like this.

It starts small, lile a small zap, and he thinks that’s it, but then it comes back, stronger and longer until it’s going full force. All he sees and feels is white hot pain. It’s worse than anything he’s ever experienced, and he broke his back once. He’s vaugely aware of his high pitched screaming.

He hopes MJ is doing okay at least. She deserves nothing but the best. Hopefully she won’t miss him.

Miles turns away, face hidden in the fabric of his mother’s clothes, squeezing his eyes shut. She holds him tight.

And then it stops. But Peter isn’t there anymore. Like he was never there. Leaving the family to mourn a hero that this dimension never knew they had and a hero who’s dimension will never see him again.

“I love you! I’m so proud of you!”

It gets eerily quiet then. Miles clutches the fabric of Rio’s shirt, sobbing loudly.

“Wait, do I want kids?”

It just wasn’t fair. Peter didn’t deserve that. He was supposed to go home to his dimension and finally start taking care of himself. Then he’d talk to MJ and they’d get back together and have kids. Or something like that. Miles liked to imagine so at least.

What was he going to say to the others if he ever got to meet them again? Surely that would happen. Peni is from the future and she’s like crazy smart. If none of the others did she definitley would.

Miles doesn’t to to school that day. His parents also stay home and they spend the entire day mostly just sleeping. He doesn’t feel like doing anything else.

#mine #fics #my fics #marvel #peter b parker #rio morales #jefferson davis #into the spider verse #spiderman #spiderman into the verse #miles Morales & Peter b Parker

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silver-lily-louise · 5 years ago

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Watch Over Me - a Shadowhunters fanfic

Summary: ‘He parts Alec’s lips and gently lets the blood spill into his mouth, pressing a kiss to his husband’s forehead. ‘Forgive me, my love.’’ Set during the last episode’s time-skip. When Camille hatches a plot to get back at Magnus, he’s left with an impossible decision that could have devastating consequences for the man he loves. Word count: ~9k Warnings: Show-typical violence and gore, temporary major character death

~oOo~

Even for an immortal, time passes slowly in the Gard.

Some days are a haze of hatred and betrayal. After all she’s done for Magnus, this is the thanks she gets? She saves his miserable life, allows him decades of being her lover, and at the end of it all he sends her to a fate worse than death. And all for that upstart bastard, Raphael.

She snorts. Oh, but of course, he’s not just any upstart bastard to Magnus. No, he’s like a son to him. She lounges in the corner of her cell, anger spent for now, contempt creeping in to replace it. The old fool. He never quite got the hang of immortality, she thinks. He partied, and lived in luxury, and travelled the world – but he still loves like a mortal, even now. Camille used to pity him for that.

Of course, that was before he betrayed her. Before he left her here to rot.

And so as the months tick by, Camille begins to plan. She’s certain she can get out of here – Gard security is tight, but she’s lived longer than most of her captors ever will, and the key to almost any escape is patience. But she’s not yet sure how she can get to New York from here, and she’s not going to waste her one chance at freedom on a bid that won’t put her anywhere near Magnus.

It’s a chance conversation between the guards that gives her idea for vengeance fresh blood. ‘Herringway! Simmonds!’ The voice is authoritative, and the two guards outside her door – one to send her weekly ration of blood through the slot, one to make sure she doesn’t ‘try anything’ – fall silent, immediately at attention. ‘I need the two of you to come with me. Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane has called a meeting about that business with the werewolves last week.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ one of them says, and the slot on Camille’s door is hastily pulled across, isolating her once more.

She dives into her blood rations, and for once her thoughts are distracted from how low she has been laid. Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane, they said. She remembers the smell of angel blood, the sickly sweet taste of Nephilim on Magnus’ lips. The boy who stormed in to interrupt them, arrogant in his staggering youth. The brief flash of protectiveness across Magnus’ face as he told her to leave Alec out of this.

Camille doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Lightwood-Bane. It seems that in replacing her, Magnus found someone who’s as much of a saccharine idiot as he is, someone who’s willing to throw their life away for an immortal who’ll forget them in a century or two.

But as the news settles into her mind, she finds herself grinning, feeling the residual blood dry on her teeth. Maybe she doesn’t have to get to New York. After all, there’s more than one way to rip out the heart of a sentimental warlock.

***

All prison breakouts start with one mistake, and today it is the lot of Harrison Bigsby to provide it. Elliott’s been working with him since day one, is even considering asking him to be his parabatai – a potential conversation his mind wanders to as they begin meandering the halls, carrying between them all sorts of supplies for the prisoners.

A werewolf prisoner starts yelling furiously, banging on the door, and it pulls Elliott out of his reverie with a jolt. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he swears quietly. ‘You’d think they’d learn that all they’re gonna do is hurt themselves.’ He winces at the sound of flesh and bones hitting metal over and over, though it’s hard to feel too much sympathy for the prisoner – this wing is dedicated to containing the truly heinous criminals, those who’ve ended many innocent lives or caused suffering even worse than death. Elliott’s no coward, but he can’t help but feel relieved that he only has this particular duty once a month.

Harrison sighs. ‘Yeah. I’ll see if I can get him to calm down. You make the next blood drop.’ He walks away, and Elliott’s about to protest – this isn’t protocol, they’re supposed to stick together. But doubt stills his tongue, and he carries on towards the next cell. They’re not grunts straight out of training, and Harrison’s not going to want a weak-ass parabatai who can’t even do dinner duty without someone holding his hand.

He opens the slot, and before he can close it all the way, he hears her. ‘My my,’ she croons, and Elliott stifles a gasp because her voice is pure music. ‘This looks delicious. Thank you, my sweet.’ ‘You’re welcome,’ he says, awed. ‘I was hoping – before you go on your busy way, performing your duties so nobly – that you might do me the tiniest favour?’ ‘Anything,’ he breathes, and means it all the more when she laughs. ‘My hero. There’s a rune on the top left corner of this door, and it’s giving me some bother. Be a dear and deactivate it, would you?’

He hesitates, because as much as he longs to help her, he isn’t ever supposed to touch the security mechanisms. But his fears are assuaged when she continues, ‘It doesn’t do anything to the lock, of course, or I’d never ask. As far as I’m aware, it’s only there to cause me pain.’ Her voice sounds sadder now, broken, and Elliott wants to kill whoever’s responsible. ‘Please?’

He nods, then realises she can’t see him. ‘Of course, of course I will.’ He takes out his stele and waves it over the rune as efficiently as he can, because even a second more pain for her than necessary is too much for him to bear. The rune glows softly, then fades. She sighs in relief. ‘Thank you, my sweet. I won’t forget this. But let’s keep it our little secret, hmm?’ Her coy tone brings a blush to Elliott’s cheeks. ‘Our little secret, of course.’ He rather likes the sound of that. ‘Good boy,’ she says warmly, and he glows at the praise. ‘Now, you ought to go help your friend. I’m sure I’ll see you soon enough, next time you’re on this route. I can hardly wait.’ Her compassion makes him smile, as does her promise. He goes to check on Harrison without another word.

***

Camille drifts down the hallway back to her cell. She doesn’t like travelling in dust form, and as she slips back through the crack in the food slot, she reforms quickly, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Odd how you can taste the must down here more without a tongue, she muses. But she hadn’t wanted to push her luck with that Shadowhunter boy, not knowing how far her encanto could take her without eye contact. Asking him to disable that one rune was risky enough.

Besides, she thinks – as she wanders around the cell, preening – one rune was all it took. So far, she’s only been out of her cell for short ventures, timed precisely to miss the patrols. But finally, she’s ready for the next stage. Just in time, too – it’s been nearly a month, and if that encanto’d idiot comes back and starts drooling over her, his partner is going to know something’s wrong.

It’s another hour before the guards wander past her door, briefly opening the slot to check on her. She sits in the corner, holding her head in her hands, hiding her face. She has a good poker face, obviously, but there’s something about a situation like this that puts a certain gleam in her eye. I do love it when a plan comes together, she thinks happily.

The footsteps move past. She counts to seven hundred and fifty-two before she decides a thousand was an overly cautious number to pick, and if she has to count that much higher she’ll die of boredom. So instead, she falls into her dust form and slips away.

***

‘Inquisitor, there’s been a riot in the Gard.’

Alec’s attention immediately snaps away from the report on his desk to the lieutenant in front of him. ‘When?’

The lieutenant is maintaining a veneer of professionalism, but Alec can see the fear lurking behind it. ‘We first got word around four minutes ago, sir, but we’re not sure when it started. Twenty-three prisoners are out of their cells.’ ‘Which section?’ ‘Low-threat, sir,’ they say, and Alec lets out a breath. At least it isn’t the maximum-security wing. ‘Our people on the ground are trying to contain the situation, but-‘

‘Sir!’ Another voice interrupts as another Shadowhunter appears in the doorway, her blue uniform marking her as surveillance personnel. ‘Sorry for the intrusion, but there’s word on the riot. They have it mostly under control down there now – the head of security pulled all available details to handle it. The prisoners are back in their cells, they’re just working on re-securing some of the doors.’ ‘Casualties?’ ‘Three Shadowhunters wounded, six prisoners. No fatalities.’ Alec nods. ‘All right. Stevens, head back to the ops center. Tell the infirmary to expect nine injured, six of which will need security.’ The Shadowhunter from surveillance nods, hurrying away. ‘Travis, gather your team and meet me at the Gard.’

***

Camille watches on, willing her patience not to give out when she’s so close. The Nephilim don’t even glance at the dust in the shadows, wandering blindly in front of her and her five accomplices – other vampires from the maximum security wing, ones that she herself sired and whose loyalty can therefore be assured. Camille’s often been proud of her talent for siring ruthless offspring, and it’s serving her well now. That Simon boy was just a fluke.

The Inquisitor is inspecting one of the doors with his stele, apparently trying to determine how the prisoners escaped. She wonders if she’ll have time before she kills him to tell him that she just opened the doors the mundane way, and let her new friends – the ones she’d been performing encanto on for the past few weeks – do the rest. Maybe she should send a manifesto of her plot to Magnus, afterwards. It does seem a shame to have no-one know just how brilliant her planning was. ‘No sign of rune-tampering,’ he says. All frowny and serious like that, she can see the attraction on Magnus’ part. It’s adorable. ‘We really have no leads on how they got out, Charlie?’ ‘No, but Alec… there’s some sort of demonic energy here. A strong residue of power.’ The Seelie scans the shadows, more watchful than the Nephilim, but Camille is confident she won’t be spotted. ‘I cannot put my finger on it, but whatever did this was no Nephilim.’ The angel boy looks around, but he’s even less of a threat than the Seelie. ‘All right. Send a message to Magnus, let him know what’s happening and ask for his help. No-one knows demonic signatures like he does.’

Camille quells her frustration as the Seelie departs. An annoying wrinkle, but not a huge problem. It’ll take time for Magnus to get here from New York. Without being able to portal straight into the Gard, his little angel will be long dead by the time he gets down here. There are only four Nephilim now, and they look like they’re preparing to leave, too.

Camille gives the signal.

She enjoys the look of shock on the boy’s face as her companions emerge from the shadows, breaking the neck of one of the younger Shadowhunters before the girl has a chance to react. The others are quicker, but the second one soon ends up on the ground with his throat ripped out, having barely laid a scratch on his assailant. The boy and his last remaining companion are clearly the more accomplished fighters, managing to take out three of her vampires between them. But they’re still outnumbered. When his comrade falls, Camille steps from the shadows herself, her last two accomplices helping her to hold the boy down.

‘Well, hello again,’ she purrs, straddling his chest, high enough that he can’t buck her off. He struggles, his expression full of hatred as he recognises her, but it’s fairly hard to move with a vampire pinning each of your arms down. ‘Alec, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, I just think of you as ‘Magnus’ latest plaything’.’ He glares at her, but doesn’t say a word. ‘Ooh, cold,’ she says, relishing the slight flicker of fear as she bares her fangs. ‘Not in a chatty mood? Don’t worry, angel boy. I have just the thing to cheer you up. Maybe when Magnus gets here, he can have some too.’

He opens his mouth to say something – probably an angry, predictable demand to leave Magnus alone – but it’s lost in a gasp as she bites down on his throat. She drinks fast and deep, pleasantly surprised by the sweet angelic quality to his taste, but not wanting to savor too much. After all, this isn’t supposed to be a picnic for the boy, and she knows her venom is making this altogether more pleasant than she’d like. Oh well, she thinks. I can always try to convince Magnus that he suffered horribly, knowing what was happening despite the venom’s effects. With his bleeding, guilt-ridden heart, he’ll probably believe every-

‘ALEC!’

Camille just about has time to look up in shock – how the hell did he get here so fast? – before she’s thrown back violently. She gets to her feet as Magnus incinerates both of her remaining vampires, golden magic that matches his furious eyes and would remind anyone just whose son they’re dealing with. He’s not alone, but the two Shadowhunters behind him keep their distance, weapons drawn. Magnus plants himself between Camille and Alec, staring at her like he’s trying to bore a hole in her skull, and she tries not to show any fear. ‘Enough,’ he growls. ‘You’re not touching him again.’ His magic flares threateningly from his hands.

She smirks, hoping it doesn’t wobble. ‘You won’t do it,’ she says, pleased when her voice comes out steady. ‘You and I go too far back for that, Magnus. I saved your life. I was here long before your angel toy-boy, and I’ll be here long after.’ She waits for the capitulation, for Magnus’ face to soften as it always has when she pulls that card. For his weakness to shine through.

What she doesn’t expect is a slow but decisive shake of the head. ‘No,’ Magnus says, and the rage has gone, leaving only cold fury. ‘You’ve taken enough of my past. You’re not having my future.’

And that’s the final straw. Camille launches herself at Magnus, her own wrath boiling over at the realisation that she can’t control him like she used to.

The next bolt of magic cuts off her head, and the last thing she sees is a man who doesn’t need her anymore.

***

Magnus doesn’t even watch Camille hit the ground. Instead, he spins back to his husband, cradling his head; tears starting to well as he feels how cold his Shadowhunter’s skin is, the runes standing out starkly against his pallor. ‘Alexander,’ he breathes, but he doesn’t expect a response and he doesn’t get one, not even a hitch in the weak, shallow breathing. His fingers go to the unbitten side of Alec’s throat, over his deflect rune, and the pulse is barely there. He’s lost too much blood. ‘Get Catarina Loss here, now,’ he shouts, hearing both Shadowhunters scramble to obey his broken command.

But it’s a vain hope. There’s no way Catarina can get here in time, and he knows it. He chokes down a sob, closing his eyes as he presses his forehead to Alec’s. ‘Please,’ he whispers, ‘not yet. Don’t leave me just yet. We’re supposed-‘ The words are cut off by another sob, and he finishes the thought in his head as he gasps for breath. We’re supposed to have more time. Decades. I was supposed to care for you as you grew old. ‘Please, Alec. Please.’

His hands move down to cradle either side of Alec’s neck, and he feels a swell of revulsion as he finds the twin punctures.

Then, a thrill of something dangerously close to hope.

His eyes fly open, and he looks from his husband, so still and pale but still there, to Camille’s body not ten yards away. He summons the vampire’s corpse without even thinking, cupping his hand under the fatal wound, where the last drops of her lifeblood are seeping out.

After a few agonising seconds, he prays that he has enough, because he knows he’s almost out of time. He parts Alec’s lips and gently lets the blood spill into his mouth.

Alec sputters a little, and Magnus hates to make his last breaths any more difficult, but he has to try. He leans forward again, using his unbloodied hand to stroke Alec’s hair, and presses a kiss to his husband’s forehead. ‘Forgive me, my love.’

The weak breathing stops, and the despair crashes over Magnus like a tidal wave. He pulls Alec close and weeps, not yet daring to hope he’s done enough to save the man he loves.

***

If Simon’s phone hadn’t started ringing, he’s not sure when he would have moved.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since Jace collapsed in the middle of his and Izzy’s kitchen, clutching his side and screaming in agony. How long since the screaming stopped, Jace’s expression going blank for a moment before he started hyperventilating, sobbing Alec’s name. The three of them have been frozen ever since, Izzy’s arms around Jace as the tears track silently down her face, Simon standing beside them, numb with disbelief.

And then his phone starts ringing, and it’s like the clock starts ticking again. He pulls it out of his pocket and feels his stomach plummet to his knees when he sees who it is, almost dropping it in his fumble to answer the call. ‘Magnus? Oh g-g-god, Magnus, I’m so-‘ ‘Are you alone?’ Simon’s taken aback by Magnus’ blunt tone. ‘No, I’m- I’m with Jace and Izzy. Magnus-‘ ‘Get out of their earshot.’ Magnus sounds… not calm, but emotionless. Detached. ‘Uh, okay.’ Simon holds up a finger to Izzy in response to her questioning look, and walks out of the kitchen, through the living room and into the master bedroom, closing all the doors behind him. ‘Okay, I’m out of the room-‘ ‘I need you to come to Alicante. Just you, as fast as you can get here.’

Simon takes a deep breath. ‘I totally get it, Magnus, and I’m so, so sorry, but I can’t just leave Izzy and-‘ ‘Simon!’ Magnus snaps. ‘We don’t have time for this. Alec needs you here, now.’ …Oh, god. Oh, god. Does Magnus not know? ‘Magnus,’ he says hesitantly, with absolutely no idea how he’s going to break this news. ‘Alec’s… Jace… he – ‘ ‘I know.’ Oh, thank god. ‘But we might be able to get him back, Simon. The same way Clary got you back.’ Simon’s eyes widen. ‘You mean-‘ ‘Go to the Institute and tell them that I’ve summoned you. They’ll be expecting you, and they should give you access to a portal. Get here as soon as you can, and don’t tell the others.’ The line goes dead.

Simon sways in place. If he thought he was dumbfounded before, this is a whole other level. He wanders back into the kitchen, hand still clenched around his phone. Izzy looks up at him. She’s still crying, but when she speaks, her voice is stronger than Simon expects. ‘What did Magnus say? Did he-‘ She pauses for a moment, continuing in a whisper. ‘Did he say what happened?’

Simon shakes his head. Which isn’t technically a lie, he has no idea what’s going on besides that Alec’s dead but Magnus says he can come back as a frickin’ vampire- ‘No,’ he says, realising that both of them are looking up at him now, waiting for more information. ‘He just said he wants me to go to Alicante, ASAP. Just me. He didn’t say why.’

‘No.’ Simon’s heart breaks a little at Jace’s voice, all the grief and fury in it. ‘No, we’re going with you. I have to-‘ He cuts himself off, breathing heavily. Izzy looks at Simon a little quizzically, and Simon tries to just look sad instead of nervous and guilty. Apparently, it works, because she turns back to Jace and runs her hand over his shoulders soothingly. ‘Jace,’ she says gently, ‘if Magnus doesn’t want us there yet, there’s got to be a good reason. We don’t-‘ She presses a hand to her mouth, taking a few breaths before she continues. ‘We don’t know what state Alec’s in.’ Her voice trembles a little on her brother’s name, and Jace’s sobs resume.

Simon gently puts his hand on Izzy’s shoulder. ‘I can stay,’ he offers, though he dreads to think what Magnus would do to him if he didn’t show. ‘I-‘ ‘No.’ Izzy shakes her head, and gives Simon her best attempt at a smile. ‘No, go. Magnus needs you right now. I’ve got things here.’

He gives her a half-smile in return, reaching out to comfort Jace quickly before thinking better of it and snatching his hand back. ‘Okay. Okay. I’ll, uh- go.’ He turns and sprints from the apartment, heading for the Institute, and feeling terrible about leaving the others behind. Magnus had better know what he’s doing.

***

‘Magnus, think about this.’ Raphael sounds exasperated, but Magnus knows him well enough to detect the undercurrent of concern. ‘Think of what his life will be like after this. Because of a choice you made for him. Is that a burden you can bear?’

Magnus doesn’t look up at him, but he nods. ‘I have to try, Raphael.’ Because of course Magnus has second- and third- and fourth-guessed himself, every moment since he dripped Camille’s blood between Alec’s lips. But the alternative is losing him, and he’s having trouble even thinking about that option. Raphael sighs in frustration. ‘Magnus-‘ ‘I didn’t ask you here to talk me out of it,’ Magnus snaps, but there’s no strength behind the anger. It sounds as hollow as he feels. ‘Will you help me or not?’

‘Raphael, can I… I need to talk to you. Just for a moment.’ Apparently, Simon showed up sometime in the last minute or so. Magnus hadn’t even noticed. He hears them walk away until they’re just out of earshot, where he can hear their cadence but not their words, and still he doesn’t move. His gaze is fixed on the hole in the ground in front of them. He can’t look at Alec lying down there, because there’s no peace in this kind of death, and he just looks pale and ill and wrong. But neither can Magnus completely look away, and so he guards the grave without daring to glimpse the owner.

It’s not long – or, hell, it might be an hour, he can’t tell anymore – before the footsteps return. He doesn’t ask Raphael a second time, just waits for his answer. Raphael sighs again, but this time, it’s in resignation. ‘All right. We’re running out of time. Let’s get this over with.’

The grave is shallow, and doesn’t take long to fill between the three of them – and then they’re standing back, waiting with bated breath. And as the minutes tick by and Alec still doesn’t appear, Magnus feels his resolve start to crumble. Maybe the blood wasn’t enough, even with that much venom in his system. Or maybe it was enough, but something’s gone wrong, and now he’s trapped his husband’s soul in a kind of limbo-

A hand strikes up through the earth, and Magnus should feel apprehensive at facing the consequences of his decision. But all he can focus on is how much easier it is to breathe again.

***

Cold, cold but burning, and he climbs out into dazzling light but it doesn’t sound right, doesn’t sound like the world and there’s the smell of rain and something earthy, sweet, familiar, delicious-

Another sound, too loud, too much, but he doesn’t care because there’s a different smell, in front of him and too delicious to resist and so he doesn’t, he tears it open and feasts and all is lost but the hunger, the frenzy, the need.

‘Not yet, Magnus. Give him a minute.’

Magnus, Magnus, the word is familiar. And the connection lights up in his brain as he continues to feast – Magnus is the name of that smell, the earthy-sweet-delicious one, so tempting that once he’s finished here, he knows what he wants afterwards, but for now there’s the hunger and the frenzy and that’s paramount, so he shuts off every other thought and just feeds.

And slowly, as the bloodlust is sated, Alec’s mind comes back to him, the last few minutes forgotten.

He’s kneeling in the dirt, and how did he get here? And the world is too loud around him, too bright even though when he looks up he can see the stars, that’s not right, night’s supposed to be dark.

‘Alexander?’

He looks down again, and this time, he sees the golden glow of his husband’s eyes, shining with unshed tears – but he looks relieved, treading that fine line between happiness and heartbreak. ‘There you are,’ he says, and his smile widens. ‘You know, last-minute dramatic entrances are supposed to be my thing.’ And he takes a step towards Alec.

EarthysweetDELICIOUS- ‘No!’ Alec scrambles backwards, and Magnus stops in his tracks, expression tipping back towards heartbreak, and Alec holds his breath because something is wrong, something’s in his head and it wants to hurt Magnus, wants him to hurt the man he loves. ‘Don’t- don’t come any closer,’ he says desperately, covering his mouth and nose. Or at least, that’s what he tries to say, but his mouth feels weird, and when he runs his tongue over his teeth he can’t quite place… what…

His eyes fall on Simon, on Raphael, and go wide in understanding. ‘No,’ he says again, more quietly – not despair, just disbelief. And he wants to say more, wants to ask what happened, because he remembers Camille’s teeth in his neck and fire around him but not how he got here – but the words get stuck in his throat, and he knows he should be worrying about himself but all his mind can focus on is how fucking devastated Magnus looks now.

Simon’s suddenly there, kneeling in front of him, face a little scared but determined. ‘Listen, Alec, it’s okay. I know it’s all – all – really freakin’ weird right now, and I know,’ he lowers his voice, ‘I know you’re afraid you’re going to hurt him.’ Alec shuts his eyes, and he wants to tell Simon to go away, tell him that he has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s hit the nail on the head and Alec’s terrified. ‘But you won’t,’ Simon says, and he sounds surer of himself than Alec’s ever heard. ‘You won’t hurt him, like I never hurt Clary. And I was a frickin’ wimp, dude,’ he jokes, though his voice turns a bit shaky when he does. ‘You’re a total badass. If anyone can handle this, it’s you. And you don’t have to do it alone. We’re gonna help you.’

Alec opens his eyes and looks at Simon, daring to take a breath. He can still smell the sandalwood, the earthy sweetness he’s come to associate with Magnus, but it doesn’t stoke that fire of hunger inside him anymore. ‘Okay,’ he croaks, returning the smile as best he can when Simon’s face lights up. ‘Okay, I-‘

But then there’s pain, agony, and he claws at his neck, his ribs to get it off him, because it hurts, it feels like his skin is coming apart, make it stop-

‘Alexander!’ And then Simon is gone but there’s Magnus, Magnus, love of his life – holding on to him, wrapping him in his arms and it’s safe but it’s not because there’s still that voice at the back of Alec’s head, but it’s being drowned out by pain-

‘His runes, Magnus, they’re reacting to the change-‘

Make it stop, he wants to say. Please, Magnus, help me –

The world is still too bright, and it gets brighter, brighter-

***

‘It’s alright,’ Magnus soothes, trying not to sound as frantic as he feels. ‘It’s alright, Alec, I’ve got you, it’ll be over soon.’ His husband is limp in his arms, but he keeps talking, keeps pouring out magic to numb the pain. ‘It’s going to be alright. You’re going to be alright.’

The runes are still glowing red-gold on his skin, then flaring brightly one by one and disappearing. They’re reacting to the change, Raphael said, and that makes sense. Shadowhunter runes work on angelic power, they can’t handle the demonic nature of vampirism – only the Seelie realm can properly balance the two. The vampirism will win out, Raphael said assuredly. Once it does, he should be fine. But Magnus curses himself for not thinking of this, not realising that this would be an issue.

In fact, while he’s at it, Magnus curses himself for this whole damn idea, his selfishness and desperation, his inability to let Alec go. Because nothing, not even Alec’s death, has ever hurt Magnus more than that soft, broken ‘no’ when his husband realised what he’d become. What Magnus did to him. He doesn’t deserve to, but Magnus holds Alec tighter. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers.

The last rune – stamina, Magnus recognises dully – flares and vanishes. Alec remains still in Magnus’ arms.

‘It might take a while for him to come around,’ Raphael says, and it’s the closest to gentle Magnus has ever heard him. ‘I’ve heard of this before, when Shadowhunters were turned. The war between magics takes a toll on the body. We should take him home to recover.’

Simon steps forward as if to help, but Magnus shakes his head minutely, lifting Alec into his arms. He’s surprisingly light, until Magnus remembers how much blood he’s missing, and then it isn’t surprising at all. He steps forward, away from the loose earth, to give himself a sturdier footing. ‘We never did the bridal carry over the threshold, did we?’ he murmurs. ‘At least we’re getting around to it now.’ When Alec doesn’t respond, the smile dies on Magnus’ face. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. Not funny.’

He twirls his wrist gently to open a portal, and steps through into their bedroom, Simon and Raphael in tow. He manoeuvres Alec onto the bed, trying to make him as comfortable as possible, and takes a moment to magic away the dried blood on his face. Then he turns to the others. ‘Would you watch over him for a moment? There’s something I have to take care of. And let his family know what’s happened.’

He doesn’t wait for a response before portalling back to the graveyard, unable to wait another second. He faces the disturbed grave, and summons his powers – first smoothing it over, and then weaving ward after ward around the plot, casting glamours and protective spells, making sure they’re the kind that are built to last.

Grave dirt is a dangerous liability. Magnus is already afraid he’s made a colossal mistake, and he’s not about to make another.

***

Alec is unconscious for three days.

On the first day, Magnus busies himself around the apartment. Raphael assures him that it’s going to be a while before his husband wakes, and so Magnus takes the time to make preparations. He checks there’s no way sunlight can get into their home once the new blackout curtains are drawn, conjures blood to store in the fridge, silences any ticking clocks. He banishes the silver he can deal without, like some of his jewellery, and transmutes what he can’t, like the now-stainless-steel silverware.

That evening, the majority of Alec’s family arrive – Maryse, Jace, Izzy and Max. Magnus doesn’t meet any of their eyes, too afraid that he’ll see hatred for what he’s done, the path he’s chosen for Alec. When they go into the bedroom, he makes himself scarce, brewing tea and coffee in the kitchen because if they’ve had as little sleep as him, they’re going to need it. Izzy comes to join him after a while, and knowing how protective she is, he braces himself for the worst. But instead, she gently takes him by the hands, turns him to face her, and pulls him down into a hug. ‘Thank you,’ she says. ‘I know it wasn’t an easy decision, but I don’t know what I’d do without him.’ Magnus doesn’t tell her that he doesn’t deserve her thanks, or that it was all too easy in the end, because he’s selfish. Instead, he just leans into her comfort.

On the second day, Robert shows up. He says he can’t stay long, which Magnus suspects has more to do with the awkwardness of being around Maryse than any ‘Clave business’, as he claims – but he sits with Alec a while, holding one of his hands while Maryse takes the other. Before he goes, he pulls Magnus to one side. ‘Keep me updated,’ he says. ‘Let me know when he wakes up, or if there are any changes.’

Shortly after Robert leaves, Raphael does too. ‘I’ve done all I can for you, now,’ he says. ‘The rest will be up to you and Simon to help him through.’ He clasps Magnus’ shoulder for a moment, meeting his eyes with a sincere, but not unsympathetic gaze. ‘I hope you don’t come to regret this.’

Magnus walks him out, and rather than return to the bedroom with its stifling air of guilt and sadness, he wanders out onto the balcony to get some much-needed space. The sun is setting, and he tries and fails not to think about how Alec won’t ever get to see that again. If he weren’t so tired, the thought would make him angry with himself all over again. So much for avoiding guilt, he thinks, and almost laughs. ‘Magnus?’ Simon’s voice is hesitant, and maybe Magnus isn’t just distracted. This daylighter is sneaky. ‘Are you alright?’

He actually does laugh at that, but there’s no warmth to it. ‘Oh, I’m just dandy, Simon.’ Simon comes to stand beside him, leaning on the balcony, but keeps around a foot of space between them, which Magnus appreciates right now. ‘Yeah, sorry. Stupid question.’ He pauses, before turning to face Magnus. ‘I felt it, when Camille went,’ he says. ‘I didn’t know what it was, at first, and then of course there was Jace a second later – but anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. That can’t have been easy.’ Magnus just shrugs, surprised at his own lack of feeling. ‘I suppose.’ Truth be told, he didn’t feel anything when he thought about Camille being gone, not even a small sense of loss. It would seem that any residual feelings he had for her were completely erased by the sight of her sinking her fangs into Alec’s throat. He takes a deep, slightly shuddering breath.

It’s a few moments before Simon speaks again. ‘He’s going to be okay. You know that, right?’

Magnus sighs. ‘No, I don’t.’ He looks back out at the sunset, and pretends that it’s the glare that makes his eyes water. ‘I did this to him,’ he whispers. ‘I knew what it would mean for him – I’ve seen Raphael go through it, and you. But I still chose this over losing him.’ ‘Well, yeah, but… it’s better than death, isn’t it?’ ‘I’m not so sure. You saw him in the graveyard, Simon. How scared he was, how, how…’ ‘But it’s like that for everyone,’ Simon argues. ‘It’s a big deal, but… you make it work. Raphael made it work, I’ve made it work. And neither of us ever wanted this, so Alec’s already got an advantage there.’

Magnus turns sharply to look at Simon, whose expression quite clearly says caught red-handed. ‘Uh,’ he says, clearing his throat. ‘Okay, yeah, cat’s out of the bag. Nice one, Simon,’ he mutters. ‘Okay, so, basically, he didn’t want me to say anything, but… when you were stuck in Edom, and we heard about Lilith, and we couldn’t figure out a way to get any Shadowhunters there to help you… Alec-kinda-asked-me-to-turn-him-into-a-vampire,’ he finishes in a rush. If Magnus looks as astounded as he feels right now, he wouldn’t blame Simon for checking his pulse. ‘He…’ Simon nods, a little sheepishly. ‘Yeah. I said no – obviously. For starters, I’m a terrible sire – but he was all in, man. He said if I didn’t do it, he’d find someone else to. If Clary hadn’t come up with the alliance rune, I really think he would have done it.’

Magnus turns back towards the last rays of sunlight, overwhelmed. You continue to surprise me. He closes his eyes at the memory. ‘I suppose that’s what you told Raphael to get him on board, then?’ ‘Yeah. He was much more supportive when I told him this was an option Alec had considered before, even if he didn’t quite get why.’

And in a way, Raphael is right. It doesn’t change the fact that Magnus made this decision, and all the weight of that – but maybe it’ll make things easier for Alec when he wakes up, and that’s all he wants for his husband now. ‘Thank you, Simon,’ he says, turning to give him a small smile. Simon returns it, and heads back indoors, apparently pleased with himself.

On the third day, Alec’s family drift in and out, but Magnus stays by his bedside the whole time. According to Raphael’s estimate, he’ll wake up soon, and Magnus wants to be here. He doesn’t know if Alec will forgive him – god knows he’s having a hard enough time just living with himself over this, forgiveness seems downright impossible – but when Alec wakes up confused, he always looks for Magnus, and Magnus doesn’t want him to panic when he rouses. If Alec wants him to leave, he can do that after, and he won’t blame him if that’s the case. But that’s after, and right now, Magnus’ place is here.

It’s nearly midnight when Alec shifts, the noise waking Magnus from a half-doze despite the amount of caffeine in his system. Everyone else is asleep, spread across the spare room and the couches in the living room. ‘M’gn’s?’ he mumbles, and despite all the guilt and all the fear, Magnus’ heart leaps to hear it. ‘Here,’ he says, reaching out and taking his husband’s hand. ‘Right here, Alexander.’ Bloodshot eyes find his, and after they take a moment to focus, an exhausted smile lights up Alec’s face. ‘Ah. There you are,’ he says, slurring slightly. Magnus swallows the lump in his throat, and tries to find a smile of his own. ‘Where else would I be?’ He relinquishes Alec’s hand, taking the cup from the nightstand and pressing the straw to his husband’s lips. ‘Here. Raphael said this would help once you woke up.’

Alec closes his eyes to drink – not that he’d be able to see what he’s drinking through the opaque cup and straw. That Meyer woman got a lot wrong, Magnus thinks, but damn if she didn’t know how to normalise drinking blood. Alec finishes most of the cup before he pulls away. Either he’s too out of it to realise what he just drank, or he’s adjusting to this new lifestyle remarkably quickly, because he doesn’t seem fazed at all – he just settles back down into his veritable nest of pillows, cracking his eyes open to look at Magnus once more, before he lets them fall closed again and reaches his hand out, palm up.

And Magnus puts all his practice with ‘living in the here and now’ to good use, pushing his worries for the future aside and just holding on tight.

***

‘Try telling yourself you want to run into the wall,’ Simon suggests. Alec grits his teeth. ‘Simon, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.’ ‘Hey, worked for me. You won’t know unless you give it a try.’

Alec takes a deep breath, but without there being a need to do so, it’s annoyingly ineffective at calming him down. It’s been five days since he first woke up at home, and there’s a lot for him to be stressed about. Firstly, there’s the fact that even though he’s been through years of physical training, he’s pretty sure that if any of his instructors had been as irritating as Simon was while trying to teach him to manage his ‘vamp speed’ inside the apartment, he would have volunteered for deruning by the age of fifteen just to get away from them.

Speaking of deruning, there’s also the shock every time he walks past a mirror and doesn’t see his deflect rune on his neck, only the quickly-fading puncture wounds on the opposite side. His runes have been a part of him for so long, he feels oddly incomplete without them. It doesn’t help that it’s a reminder of his shift in identity, too – being a Shadowhunter is all he knows, all he’s ever known. It was an identity that fit, and vampire just doesn’t fit yet.

But if he’s honest with himself, there’s a much bigger reason why Alec feels so on edge, and that reason is sitting in the kitchen, wearing a wedding band identical to Alec’s, and pretending to read The Great Gatsby despite the fact that he hasn’t turned a page in twenty minutes. Since Alec woke up, Magnus has barely looked at him. He always stays close, of course, wanting to be there for him, but his bravado is out in full force. The only real expression Alec’s seen on his face in days is the one where he looks at Alec with a mixture of grief and wonder, like he’s some sort of sad miracle. And of course, as soon as he realises Alec’s looking, it’s back to the false smile and airy attitude, all without meeting his eyes.

And Alec understands, really. Magnus saved his life, but in the process, he’s ended up married to a vampire. Which isn’t a completely new thing for Magnus, of course, he’s been with vampires before – but the last time was when he was with Camille, and that story doesn’t exactly have a happy ending. And now she’s Alec’s sire, and this must be bringing up all sorts of weird memories for Magnus.

Alec looks back at Magnus, watches the honest expression slip away behind false cheer again, and suddenly he can’t do this anymore. ‘Simon, could you give us a minute?’ It’s taken a few days, but Alec trusts himself to be in a room alone with Magnus now – his long-earned discipline from being a Shadowhunter is coming in handy with learning to control his bloodlust. Besides, he’s sure that if he did lose control, Magnus could kick his ass pretty easily. Simon looks between them, as if momentarily transfixed by the awkwardness, before he shakes himself. ‘Right, right, of course, I’ll just-‘ He leaves quickly, and Alec spares a thought to appreciate that he can now see him go, because the same speed is at his own disposal.

He turns back to Magnus, refocusing on the task at hand. Magnus opens his mouth to speak, but Alec cuts him off. ‘Do you regret it?’ he asks quietly. ‘I- what?’ ‘Do you regret it. Bringing me back like this.’ Magnus just stares for a moment, then looks down at his hands. ‘I can’t,’ he says, and Alec closes his eyes, processing that. Of course Magnus feels like he can’t regret it, that would be tantamount to wishing Alec weren’t here, but- ‘I’m so sorry, Alexander.’

Alec’s eyes fly open, and he looks at Magnus in confusion. ‘What?’ There’s no bravado now, and Magnus looks pained. ‘I’m sorry, and I know I should regret doing this to you, but I just can’t. Because if I hadn’t, I would have lost you, and I couldn’t bear that.’ He meets Alec’s eyes again. ‘But I know it was selfish of me, and I am so, so sorry.’

‘Wait,’ Alec says, dumbfounded. ‘You’re sorry? For saving my life?’ ‘I saw what the transformation did to Raphael, to Simon. And I still chose to put you through that, rather than lose you,’ Magnus says, his voice so quiet, Alec’s not sure he would have heard him without his new-and-improved vampire hearing.

Alec’s head is reeling, but he walks over to Magnus, sitting beside him. ‘Look,’ he begins. ‘I’m not going to pretend that this isn’t a big change, that it isn’t going to be difficult. But making that decision, in the heat of the moment, because you didn’t want to lose me? That’s not selfishness, that’s love.’ He takes Magnus’ hands in his own, wanting his full attention. ‘Besides, it’s not like I’ve never made a choice that I knew would hurt you. What about when I asked you to give Lorenzo’s magic back? Or when I made that deal with your father?’ Magnus shakes his head with a sad smile, like he’s already thought of all this – which, if he’s been preoccupied with this ever since Alec woke up, he probably has. ‘That’s different,’ he says. ‘You were doing what you thought was best for me.’ ‘Maybe,’ Alec allows. ‘But I don’t think it’s that black-and-white, Magnus. Do you really think there wasn’t a part of me that asked you to give the magic back because I didn’t want to lose you? I practically told you as much,’ he points out. ‘And do you think there was no part of me that made that deal with Asmodeus just because I couldn’t bear for you to resent me someday? Because I don’t believe that.’

Magnus just shakes his head, that same sad smile on his face, and Alec changes tack. ‘Magnus. Whatever part of you did this for me, I’m grateful. Because now I get to see my family again, and we have a chance to do all those things we talked about doing ‘one day’. And whatever part of you did this for you… I’m glad you did.’ Magnus looks up at him in surprise. ‘I love you, Magnus. I want you to be happy. And if you need me here, then that’s where I want to be. And if you need to hear that I forgive you, then of course, of course I do. How could I not, when any selfishness you had only existed because you love me?’ He moves his hand to the back of Magnus’ neck, thumb gently stroking back and forth. ‘But even if you’re sorry you made this choice, I’m not. At all. Besides,’ he says, feeling a smile grow wide on his face, ‘vampires are immortal. How could I walk out on you now we’ve finally got a shot at forever?’

Magnus is quiet for a moment, and his eyes are still a little shiny. ‘You know, sometimes I think it’s a shame that I was the one to propose.’ He smiles, and wraps his arms loosely around Alec’s neck. ‘You give a great speech when you want to, Alexander.’ He leans forward, and Alec leans away a little. ‘Magnus…’ ‘It’s okay,’ Magnus whispers. ‘We’ll stop if you’re not ready, but I trust you.’ He moves in slowly, giving Alec time to pull away, but he doesn’t, and when their lips meet it’s tender and sweet. Alec notes with relief that his fangs don’t descend, and leans into the kiss, emboldened.

When they pull apart, they rest their foreheads together. ‘A shot at forever,’ Magnus murmurs. ‘Sounds pretty good, when you put it like that.’ Yeah, Alec thinks, pulling Magnus even closer. It really does.

***

Change is never easy, but it’s rarely impossible.

Officially, when Alec died, he lost the role of Inquisitor. His colleagues seem relieved when he accepts that loss with good grace, knowing that even with the newfound acceptance of Downworlders in Alicante, the role should go to someone who’s still a Shadowhunter. The more Alec adjusts to his new life, the further removed he’ll be from his old one, and he knows it won’t be long until he forgets the little things he used to know intrinsically – how it feels to activate a rune, or to wield a seraph blade. How to plan for a situation with Shadowhunter abilities instead of vampiric ones.

Instead, he liaises between the Clave and the small vampire population in Alicante, pushing for compromise and understanding. It’s not easy – there are still plenty of Shadowhunters who look down on Downworlders, and plenty of vampires who don’t trust Shadowhunters after years of prejudice. But times are changing, and over the years, Alec goes from feeling like he doesn’t belong on either ‘side’ to finding a sense of belonging in both.

His family adjust, though each of them takes their own time. Izzy and Jace, used to spending time with Simon, fold him into a bone-crushing hug between them the moment they enter the apartment. He’s pretty sure that if he hadn’t insisted on getting used to his vampiric urges first, they would have done so the moment he woke up all those weeks ago. And of course, when Clary returns to the Shadow World, her acceptance is just as freely given. Maryse takes a little longer, but Alec can see her trying. The first time he sees her again, she cups his face in her hands, and meets his eyes with a determined expression. ‘You know as well as I do that this is a big change,’ she says. ‘But you’re still my boy. You always will be. And as long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you too.’

Robert doesn’t come by often, but when he does, Alec can see that he’s trying, too. He hesitates before clapping Alec on the shoulder, or sitting next to him at the dinner table, but he never chickens out. Part of Alec was sure that his dad would drop out of his life completely – it’s not like they’ve been close ever since his parents fell out, the last thing they need is one more obstacle between them – so this exceeds his expectations. With Robert comes Max, and Alec is gentlest with him, toning down the ‘vamp stuff’ at first. His youngest brother has almost no personal experience with Downworlders besides Magnus, and he’s still just a kid.

The first time Max walks into their apartment without a look of trepidation, Alec almost cries with relief.

After that, it’s not long before Max is bubbling over with questions – what does vampire speed feel like? Is Alec’s vision even better now than it was with his runes activated? Does blood taste different now? (That last one leaves Alec gaping, unable to find any words to even begin to answer, and Magnus can barely contain his laughter.)

Despite the fact that it was Magnus’ decision to save him this way, Alec is a little nervous when things start settling down after his transformation. He’s worried that without all the panic of nearly losing Alec, Magnus will realise how different things will be now. After all, Magnus has ended up with a husband who can’t go out to dinner with him, can’t even go out with him in the daytime, and whose fangs descend whenever they have a disagreement – not as a threat, just as an automatic reaction, like the vampire equivalent of a frown.

But Magnus never seems to mind any of that. He looks at Alec the same way he always has, brings him the occasional glass of blood as casually as he would a cup of coffee, and sounds so, so happy when they’re lying in bed together or curled up on the couch, talking about the future. Because one thing they never doubt is that both of them are in this for forever, now that they have a chance at it. Magnus was the one to turn Alec immortal, and Alec was the first one to mention that as a major upside to Magnus’ decision; so right from the start, they’re on the same page about that, and it makes Alec smile whenever he thinks about it, too.

The way they spend their free time changes, but it’s not all losses. They can’t walk down the streets of an unfamiliar city in the heat of the day, but they head out to the desert and lie under more stars than Alec’s ever seen before. They can’t share a meal together, but they go swimming in crystal clear waters in the moonlight, Magnus’ magic and Alec’s vampirism meaning they don’t have to come up for air until they choose to.

And of course, Alec’s favourite kind of time together – like tonight – isn’t all that different. A soft jazz song is playing, and Magnus is humming along as he and Alec turn in slow circles around the living room, swaying in each other’s arms, heads resting on each other’s shoulders. If anything, this is another thing that’s better now that Alec’s a vampire – his problem with dancing was always overthinking, and for some reason, he finds it easier to trust his newfound poise than the grace and balance that came from being a Shadowhunter.

There’s a somebody I’m longing to see, I hope that he, turns out to be, someone who’ll watch over me… Alec smiles at the lyrics being crooned around them, feeling like a huge sap but far too happy to care, and sighs. ‘What are you thinking about?’ Magnus asks softly. Alec turns his head slightly to press a kiss to his husband’s cheek. ‘You,’ he says honestly. Magnus breathes out a laugh. ‘Oh, stop it. You do know how to make a man blush, Alexander.’

They’re quiet after that, listening to the music, holding each other close. It’s a long time before either of them let go.

~oOo~

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfic #malec #malec fanfic #shtv #vampire!alec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #camille belcourt #mine #i considered posting this in chapters but sod it #ALL AT ONCE #we don't fanfic like grownups we fanfic like EXCITED TEENAGERS #anyway ill stop rambling #please enjoy

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frozenartscapes · 5 years ago

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Snow and Sunshine - Night

AN: This will be at least a three-parter. I’ve got those three parts completed, anyway. This is arguably the most important fic in this AU, solely because it signifies the start of Elsa’s relationship with her daughter. Anna plays a key role here as Elsa’s main support pillar, using her typical Anna charm to help ease her sister’s mind. I actually had quite a bit of fun writing their banter. Hope you guys enjoy!

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It had been three weeks since Prince Johannes of the Apline Islands had been tragically lost at sea. The husband to Queen Elsa of Arendelle had been returning to his home nation to finish up some business with his father in person when his ship was caught in a storm, and all on board were taken by the sea. Such were the hazards of sailing in March.

Queen Elsa held a funeral service for her husband in Arendelle. The whole kingdom, along with representatives from neighbouring nations, attended. The people were quick to offer the Queen, who by then was visibly pregnant with the future heir to the throne, their sympathies and condolences. Everyone expected her to be deeply affected by the loss, for losing a loving husband so early into the marriage is a heartbreaking thing.

Except, Elsa had not married Johannes for love. The Apline Islands had been threatened for years by the nations around them and they needed to show that their alliance with one as powerful as Arendelle was more than just something on a piece of paper. Despite their size, they were a wealthy nation and a good ally, but they could not properly defend themselves. Johannes, the third son of the King of the Aplines, was about the same age as Arendelle’s young Queen. And marriage into Arendelle’s royal family would not only be beneficial to him, but it would also guarantee Arendelle’s defensive support should the Aplines ever need it. Arendelle would have another solid alliance with a wealthy, mineral-rich kingdom that currently was fully embracing the industrial revolution and all the innovation that came with it.

And Elsa refused to allow Anna to accept the marriage instead, not when she and Kristoff loved each other so.

Johannes was a nice enough man, but he was pushy. Arrogant, at times. Stubborn, most of the time. Once he got something in his head, it was impossible to change his mind. And as a result, he and Elsa had butted heads quite frequently. In fact, their last argument had been about his fateful trip: Elsa had warned him about the dangers of sailing in the waters off Arendelle’s coast in March, and he refused to believe there was a danger.

It was safe to say that Elsa did not love Johannes. And while she still mourned his loss, it wasn’t in the way people expected her to. She mourned him no differently than she mourned all the men on his ship that night - as lives taken too soon, as young men with families who will never get to see them again, as people who suffered terrifying and agonizing deaths in the icy waters of the North Sea. She did not mourn him as her husband.

And, as she sat at her office desk, unable to focus on her work but instead on her ever-growing belly, she mourned him being around to offer assistance - as limited as it was going to be - with what comes next. With the last few months of pregnancy. With giving birth. With raising the child. Elsa had become increasingly aware that she was in this alone, now. Even if she no longer had a husband, her life could never go back to the way it was. She had a child on the way - a child that never would have existed if she had things her way.

“You’re brooding again.”

Elsa looked up to see Anna at the door. Her sister didn’t need an invitation to come further into the room. “S...sorry, I just...” Elsa said as Anna approached. She trailed off with a heavy sigh, looking down at her abdomen again in defeat.

“Come on,” Anna said, holding out a hand to help her sister up, “Let’s move to the couch where it’s comfier.”

“But I still have work to do,” Elsa protested weakly.

“It can wait,” Anna told her, “Besides, you weren’t doing it when I walked in - that means it was less important than your brooding.”

Elsa shot her sister a look, but wordlessly held out her hand. Anna took it, and with a small grunt, pulled her sister up. “You’re getting heavy,” she commented lightly.

“I’m not getting heavy,” Elsa argued, “The baby is.”

Anna scoffed playfully. “You and your technicalities,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

They headed over to the couch by the fireplace. Once she was sure Elsa was settled, Anna plunked down beside her. They sat in silence for a moment, savouring the warmth from the fire and each other’s company.

Anna was the first to break it: “So… How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve got a tiny human growing inside of me,” Elsa answered bluntly.

“Speaking of… Are they… Have they moved recently?” Anna asked with curiosity.

Elsa responded by taking her sister’s hand and placing it on her belly. Anna gasped in excitement when she felt a little kick from inside. “They always move around for you,” Elsa told her, “I think they like to hear your voice.”

“Well that’s not a surprise, considering you’re their Mama,” Anna said with a laugh, “Of course they’d be a show-off like you.”

Elsa smiled, but it faded as her gaze fell upon her growing abdomen. She let out a heavy sigh as she absentmindedly placed a hand next to Anna’s.

Anna frowned in concern, taking her hand away to give her sister some space. “How are you really feeling?” she asked again, this time with more seriousness in her tone.

Elsa swallowed hard and blinked back a few tears. “Scared,” she uttered softly.

Anna bit her lip in worry. “I know I’m probably not the best help,” she admitted, “What with me, you know, not being a mother in any way, but… My point is: I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but it’s going to be ok. You’ll be fine, El—”

“Please don’t say it like that!” Elsa interrupted, her eyes screwed shut and her teeth clenched. Frost started to creep along the floor at her feet. “P…Papa said… Before…”

“Sorry!” Anna said quickly, “I’m sorry. I forgot.” She silently kicked herself for the slip up. Elsa had told her once, off-hand, about their parents’ final words to her. It hadn’t meant much to Elsa before, but as her due date grew closer and things just seemed to keep getting worse, those words started to trigger Elsa’s anxiety every time she heard them.

Sighing heavily, Anna tried again: “You’ve got the doctor, and Gerda - who was there for both of our births. And we found the best midwives in the kingdom. Pabbie and Bulda have also given us some good advice, particularly about the possibility of magic being involved. We’ve taken everything into account. You’ve got the kingdom’s support.” She took Elsa’s hand, then, and gave it a firm squeeze. “And you have me. I’m not gonna leave your side. Not now, not when you’re the size of a whale, and not once you give birth to a beautiful baby boy or girl. We’ll get through this together, alright?”

Elsa sniffled and reciprocated the hand squeeze. She then turned, offering Anna a teary smile. “I’m not going to be the size of a whale,” she choked out with a small laugh.

Anna chuckled and gently prodded her sister’s belly. “You’re already pretty big,” she observed, “And you’ve still got a few months to go. Maybe you won’t be a whale but definitely a horse.”

With that, a large ball of soft, powdery snow appeared above Anna’s head and dropped down on top of her with a low whump. Anna leapt off the couch in surprise and struggled to free the snow that had gone down the back of her dress. After taking care of that, she shook the snow out of her hair, and stated lightly: “No fair! I’m not allowed to retaliate against you right now!”

Elsa patted her baby bump with a smug smile. “Can’t risk any sudden surprises or over-exertion,” she said simply.

“You are such a dork,” Anna teased, “Now is it too much to ask you to remove the snow so I can sit down again?”

With a lazy wave of her hand, Elsa cleared the snow away into thin air. Anna sat back down again and made herself comfy. She put extra emphasis on pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and tugging it over herself and her sister. Elsa rolled her eyes at her sister’s dramatics.

After another moment of silence, Elsa asked quietly: “Will I be a good mother?”

Anna shot her sister a disbelieving look. “You’re an amazing sister,” she assured her, “And you’re an incredible Queen. I think it’s safe to say you’ll be the best mother out there.”

“But what if…” Elsa trailed off, her face shadowed by fear and worry.

“Don’t worry about not knowing what to do,” Anna told her, “No one really knows how to be a mother the first time around. At least, that’s what Gerda always says…”

“No, it’s not that… It’s…” Elsa drew a deep breath and released it slowly, struggling to find a way to phrase things in the least heartless way possible. “I didn’t love Johannes,” she said in a low voice, “You know that. I didn’t even cry at his funeral. I couldn’t. I just… What if I feel the same about…”

Anna gulped nervously, eyeing the subject of her sister’s concern. “Elsa,” she began carefully, earnestly, “I say this with the utmost certainty: you have a heart bigger than anyone I know. I know you can’t make people love others, but I know you. You’ll give your child as much love as you do anyone else, at least. But I have a feeling you’ll love them with all your heart and then some.”

Elsa bit her lip in worry, refusing to look at Anna and keeping her eyes fixed on her pregnant belly. “But I don’t…feel that way now,” she admitted in a low voice, hanging her head in shame, “This has been hard, Anna. First there was the morning sickness, and the food cravings, and the sore muscles. I’m tired, more than I ever thought I would be. It’s…it’s weird. I don’t recognize my body anymore. I feel the baby move inside and I don’t feel joy it’s just…discomfort. I never wanted this.”

“Elsa…”

“But it’s not fair,” Elsa continued, clenching both hands into tight fists as frustration entered her voice, “It wasn’t fair to Johannes. I was so cold, distant… I never meant to be I just… I didn’t know how to accept him into my life, especially after how much he had changed it. It wasn’t his fault - not really. He was forced into that marriage just as much as I was. But I just couldn’t… Especially after that night when…” She trailed off. Anna noticed she was trembling, but she couldn’t tell if it was in anger or anxiety. “He was so insistent on having an heir…”

Anna remembered that night, or rather, the following morning. Elsa had been the furthest thing from herself. She wasn’t even like how she had been before. She was just…blank. Expressionless. Emotionless. But it wasn’t like she had been forcing it. The only hint of emotion she gave was a sharp flinch when Johannes touched her shoulder as he came into the dining room for breakfast. Anna had managed to pry it out of her sister after getting her alone, and once told it took Elsa freezing her feet to the floor to keep her from ripping the Prince apart. She had never been more angry with anyone, including Hans, but Elsa insisted it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. She hadn’t wanted to, but she knew where her duty lay. She knew she had to. And after enough of this well-rehearsed spiel, Anna finally could be released from the floor.

A few weeks later was when Elsa found out that she had, in fact, done her duty as a female monarch.

“After what he did, I’d say you were plenty fair,” Anna told her sister with a subtle hint of disdain for the dead.

“Not to him,” Elsa corrected, “I wasn’t fair to him, either but it’s really not fair to…the baby. They really didn’t get a say in any of this. They’re just…a result of what happened. But they’re also going to be a person. A person with feelings and thoughts and needs and wants but what if I can’t see that? What if I only see them as a reminder of what happened? What if they look like him? Or they act like him? What if…I do to them what I did to him? What if I can’t love them?”

“I…don’t know,” Anna replied slowly, “I don’t think this is something that can be easily answered. You might just have to follow your heart.”

Elsa released a heavy sigh. She drew her hands close and looked down at them in an all-too-familiar gesture. “For most of my life, I thought I was worthless, that I didn’t deserve to be loved,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly, “Yet I knew I was. You, Mama, Papa… I knew you loved me, even if I didn’t show it to you. Even if I still hid from you, pulled away, refused to touch you, look at you, I…I knew. I knew I was worth something to you.

��But what if the opposite happens?” she asked, desperation coming out in her tone, “What if I don’t show the child love? Or they pick up that I don’t? What if they grow up knowing I don’t love them? That no matter what they do or how much love they try to give me they just can’t…”

Anna reached over and worked Elsa’s hands into hers. She shot her a reassuring smile, and said softly, “The fact that you’re worried about this tells me that that won’t happen. I know you’re going through a lot right now and it’s probably a mess of emotions in that head of yours but something tells me that, deep in your heart, you already love your baby. I don’t think they’ll ever wonder if you care about them or not.”

“Anna,” Elsa began tentatively, still not believing her sister’s words.

“In fact, I bet I can prove it,” Anna said with determination. She rested a hand on her sister’s abdomen, and with a gentle pat, said, “What do you think, little one? Do you think your Mama cares about you? Kick once for yes, twice for no.”

“Anna this isn’t going to prove—” Elsa was cut short by a relatively sharp kick to the stomach, enough that she let out a small, involuntary grunt.

“Ha! See?” Anna insisted happily.

“They’ve been kicking me in the stomach for a while now. It was just a coincidence,” Elsa replied in annoyance.

“Fine. How about kick twice for yes, once for no.”

“Anna: a premature baby still a couple of months away from being born is not capable of answering questions, let alone actually understanding the point of said questions in the first place. I doubt it can even hear you clearly enough to—”

Once again, the child growing inside her cut her words short, this time when it clearly kicked against her belly twice before going still once more. Anna, who still had a hand on her stomach, shot her a very smug, victorious smile.

“That was still likely just a coincidence,” Elsa said, although she sounded far less sure of the statement this time.

“Sure it was,” Anna agreed sarcastically, “How about we go for three kicks mean yes?”

“I’d rather not encourage the baby to treat me like a punching bag, thank you,” Elsa stated dryly.

“Ah ha! So you do believe it!”

“No, I just…” Elsa huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms across her chest in defeat. To add insult to injury, the baby kicked again. Three times.

“See?” Anna said, dropping the teasing tone in her voice and adding sincerity, “You have nothing to worry about.”

Elsa glanced down at her belly before levelling her sister a concerned look. “I really hope you’re right,” she said quietly.

Anna’s smile broadened into a very confident, knowing grin. “I usually am about this kind of thing,” she stated simply.

#snow and sunshine au #frozen #fanfic #au ideas

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starfaring-princelotor · 6 years ago

Text

For My Family

Summary: The Emperor’s family has a few words with the Paladins of Voltron.

Pairings: Lotor x Half-GalraF!Reader

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

Warnings: Racism. If you like Allura, this is not the fic for you.

Part One___Part Two___Part Three

Extinction (Bad Ending)___ The Giving Tree___Moonlight Path

Evolution (Good Ending)___Breaking the Ice___For My Family___ Priorities

Voltron has been captured.

The Paladins weren’t able to see their enemy’s faces, only that they were tall, intimidating, and dressed in various rugged wear. Nothing like the Galra soldiers they faced before. Their lions were separated from them and it left each Paladin antsy in the confined cell. At least they had each other and, as long as they were level headed, they can get out of this alive. They always did. They were the Paladins of Voltron, Defenders of the Universe.

However, after their recent battle, none of them truly felt like...heroes.

“How long has it been?” Krolia asked, breaking the ominous silence in the group, “There should’ve been someone sent to interrogate us by now.”

“Somehow, that doesn't really make me feel any better,” Lance slumped down the wall, giving up on trying to find a way out, “Shouldn't we, I don’t know, have some power that we can like summon the lions? Or maybe -”

Lance’s sentence was cut off as the door suddenly whizzed open. Everyone’s attention snapped to the three armed wardens before them. Two they recognized immediately as old foes. Ezor and Zethrid flanked the short one’s sides, but they looked different. They looked aged, gruff and battle ready. No longer were they generals, but warriors. They seemed much more...guided.

The third one pulled down the hood, revealing a rather young face framed with silver locks and sharp eyes. A face none of them personally knew, a face that made them all wonder if they were seeing a ghost. And, perhaps, that same ghost was back to haunt them until kingdom come.

Atlas.

Hair tied back with intricate patterns buzzed into the back of his head, a concealed dagger hidden under his coat, and a sword strapped to his shoulder. He was a child soldier, by choice or by force, none of them knew, but they were going to find out fairly soon. Nebulous eyes scanned over each prisoner, studying their wide-eyed expression at seeing what could only be Lotor’s son. From the skin tone, to the shape of his ears, to the eyes, Atlas was well aware he was a splitting image of his father.

At that thought, his nose twitched in a concealed snarl, “Where is he?”

No one said a thing, still reeling at the fact that Lotor, Emperor Lotor, had a family and never told his allies.

“Where is Lotor? Where is my Papa?” he asked again, impatience growing in his voice, “I know he was with you traitors at Daibazaal.”

“Hey, Lotor was the traitor - “

“He’s gone. Lotor is...he is dead,” Allura interrupted, forcing the truth on him without thinking of her words, “We couldn’t save him.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Atlas frowned then pulled out his dagger from its sheath. It glowed a bright purple along the metal vines, but the meaning behind it was lost to those in the room. He was the only one who knew what that meant, yet the young boy had his own doubts clouding his mind. Lance took a step forward, body guarding the Altean woman from the threat of danger. Of course, that wouldn’t stop Atlas from spitting his words to open ears.

“You’re lying.”

“Look, we tried to save him, but he was too far gone,” Keith tried to explain, the guilt still fresh in all of their hearts, “Your father made his choice - “

“You’re lying!” Atlas yelled, silencing him from speaking any further with dismissive swipe of his hand, “You could’ve saved him. You should’ve saved him. You’re gonna wish you did!”

His brows scrunched in raw anger. The teen pointed his weapon at Allura, knowing damn well she was the most important person of the gang. Yes, his father talked about her, about how her “special powers” would be the key to ending the war. The key to ensuring a safe future for him and Mama and…

What a load of bullshit that was.

“Hurting us won’t bring back your dad,” the green Paladin spoke up, but her words fell on deaf ears, “He’s...he’s gone. You have to believe us.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like Lotor to just be gone,” Ezor argued, “Where is he really?”

“Tell me where you left him, or I’ll…” Atlas’ hand started glowing with magic, electrifying magic that Allura knew specific few who were worthy could receive.

He was chosen. This kid was granted the secrets of Oriande, the ancient Altean magic passed down for generations by her people. And now, now Allura felt a sinking mix of feelings stir in her very soul. Zarkon’s grandson was worthy. A boy with Galra blood was worthy. Something akin to betrayal bit her heart. Lotor wasn’t accepted, but this child was? No way. No way was she anything like...like that traitor’s son.

Why would Altean magic be shared with a murderous, blood-thirsty race?

The door opened once more, this time a firm command of “Atlas” breaking the tense situation. Almost immediately, his eyes fell to the floor and his weapon lowered, a motherly hand perching on his stiff shoulders. A gentle squeeze told him to back down. That’s enough, my son. Let me handle it from here. You shouldn’t be here. Not in the condition you were in. You ushered him to your side as you faced the Paladins, the supposed “allies” of the Empire. Of your husband.

“Empress, you shouldn't be up,” Zethrid cautioned, letting you use her elbow for support, “I insist you retreat back to your quarters. We can get the information out of them.”

“I’m sure you can, Zethrid, but we don’t have the time for idle talk,” You felt Atlas shyly wrap his hand around yours, “Besides, I would like to personally face my husband’s attackers.”

And face them you did. Eyes tired and heavy, burdened from forced sleep to ensure your health, and the large, protruding belly telling the Paladins all they needed to know. You were Lotor’s wife. And you were very, very much pregnant. It looks likes the Altean Colony wasn't the only well-kept secret Lotor hid from the Paladins. And rightfully so, too. If his enemies knew about his family, you and your son would be used as a weak spot. With your daughter on the way, it was absolutely critical to keep you and Atlas safely hidden.

Although, after a year of silence, it was you who decided to run. Take your boy with you. Rely on Lotor’s most trusted generals to care for you. That was when you knew something went terribly wrong, when all three of them arrived at your ship tucked away in the far reaches of the universe. You took your son and fled under the protection of Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor. You would have ran beyond the known universe had it not been Atlas demanding otherwise.

“Paladins. I wish I could’ve met you under different circumstances, but considering the situation at hand, I think now is a good of time as any to reveal myself,” you took a deep breath, “I apologize about the restraints, but they are a necessity.” Keith hooded his eyes in suspicion, “Just like it was a necessity you had to capture us?”

“You fled when we sent you a neutral transmission. Then, you attacked us when we gave chase. I would’ve welcomed you as guests if you came peacefully, but Acxa did inform me that Voltron tends to face diplomacy with retaliation.”

So, you knew about...that.

Closing your eyes, you tried to calm that rising irritation from gaining control, “Look. I'm not here to kill you. Why would I do that when I need your help? When the universe needs your help? The Empire needs Lotor to return. His family needs him.”

“We helped put a tyrant on the throne, we will NOT be doing it again.” Allura let that mistake happen once and her naiveness cost her more than she can recover, “Lotor is a murderer. Asking us to bring him back so he can continue his reign would cost innocent lives. He killed my people and lied about it, not just to me, but to all of us.”

“So, you see fit that his people suffer the same fate? People like me? Like my son and unborn?” you questioned icily at her, guiding Atlas behind you to hide from her cruel words, “I know about the Colony. I know that you are all wrong about what took place there. And I will tell you this now, Allura, you no longer have a kingdom to rule.”

“How dare you! You have no right - “

“The Colony has been destroyed, as well as the rest of the Alteans. It’s been three years since the disappearance of Voltron and Emperor Lotor. Both of your absence gave people like Honerva a chance to come crawling out of the hole and gain power,” you kept eye contact with her, seeing her resolve slowly taking in the information, “ She chose to control New Altea, chose to exploit them in Lotor’s name. And those who rejected her, those who were loyal to Lotor, were slaughtered. New Altea is no more. They had no one to protect them.”

Yes, Allura lost more than she could ever recover. She lost the potential of a new home. No. No, she can still save them, save those working with Honerva. Right? Voltron can. They have the power to save them. They were the Defenders of the Universe, defenders of everyone. It just hasn't clicked in her head yet that the title includes protecting Alteans and Galrans, too. The very idea that her Alteans would be so easily swayed to the dark side left her gritting her teeth in anger.

“What did you think would happen after you killed my husband? Did you honestly believe for a second that peace will suddenly wash over the 10,000 years of slavery and everyone will be saved?”

Allura narrowed her eyes. Why should she believe some Galra nobody? You could be lying to her, to them, just like Lotor.

Before she was able to argue against you once more, you raised a hand to silence her. Now, you switched your somber gaze to the humans.

“New Altea was not the only one that fell. Earth has been enslaved by Sendak and the Coalition has gone underground with the Blades of Marmora,” your eyes fell to the ground after hearing the surprised gasps from them, “I’m sorry. I...couldn’t save everyone.”

“Shay? What about Shay? And the Balmera?”

“My father is - no, that can't be. The Olkaris? Are they - is Matt okay? Is my brother safe?”

“Puigians? Taujerians? The Arusians?”

The only answer they received was a shake of your head, “I saved who I could. Gave them refuge on a planet far from anyone's reach.”

“Where? We must gather our forces and keep fighting,” Allura boldly asked, “They need our protection now more than ever.”

“I can’t disclose their location to any of you.”

“You have to tell us, they need to know Voltron has returned - ”

“For their safety, I can and will deny you that information. The universe is not safe enough for them. Their numbers are small and if you understand how the military works in the Galra Empire, you would know that their armed forces are severely limited,” you sent her a look of disapproval, “Paladins, you all seem to be missing the bigger picture here. Lotor needs to be back on the throne to reunite the Empire. Innocent lives will only keep dying as long as warlords like Sendak are free to raze any planet they want to supply their fleet.”

“I will not give Zarkon’s son that power again,” Allura flicked her hateful gaze to Atlas, knowing full well that her threat extended to Zarkon’s grandson as well.

He seethed back at her with his own venomous glare, frowning at this Altean lady his father spoke so highly of.

“...Ezor, take Atlas and wait outside,” the command was laced with hidden contempt, murderous contempt, “Now. Clearly, King Alfor didn’t raise his daughter with proper mannerisms.”

They left at your order, but Atlas’ spite kept brewing deep in his chest. Right when the door closed behind you, the air became chilly with your piercing, judgmental glare aimed at the princess. It was Shiro who sensed it first, sensed that Allura’s words once again got the best of her in times of stress. Keeping a leveled head was not what the heart of Voltron does.

He pushed off the wall, catching your attention, “Empress, I apologize for the misunderstanding - “

“Don’t fucking protect her.”

Shiro recoiled and shut his mouth, all of them did. Not daring to speak out of place when their lives were on the line, when that demand not only spoke of power, but of experience.

“She insulted Lotor and my son in front of me. Don't you dare fucking protect her. Wake up, princess. If you want that title, you better start acting like you were raised to be one,” the words cut deep and you knew how to use your voice to do the right amount of damage, courtesy of Lotor, “Because from what I’ve seen and what generosity I have extended to you and your allies, you are nothing but a sheltered brat with a gun daddy gave you.”

All forms of decorum dropped because, deep down, you weren’t raised in royalty. You weren't raised in the courts or taught the same things Lotor did as a child. You were treated less than average because of the circumstances you were born in. But that was then and now, now you had no reason to take the same bullshit treatment from other people, especially another royal who couldn’t see past the surface of your skin.

“Lotor is not Zarkon. And that tyrant is not Atlas’ grandfather. Do not ever say such a wretched thing about my family again,” you warned without an ounce of regret, “It would help you and your friends in the long run if you can get that through your pretty little head. You should be ashamed of yourself, ashamed of how you speak to me.”

Not as an Empress, but as another person pushing through this war.

This time, it was Coran who came to the princess’ defense, her stunned silence greatly worrying the family adviser. And, he won't lie, the insult you threw about her own upbringing in the court? It rubbed him the wrong way completely. Perhaps she was misguided, but that’s why he was here to help her along the way. Allura was still growing, learning. She was allowed to make mistakes.

“Your Highness, we don’t want any trouble. We want the same goal: universal safety. Surely there is a way to settle this peacefully?”

“That time has come and gone. It’s obvious she sees Lotor as nothing more than an evil monster and, by relation, me as well. Isn’t that right, Allura?” you placed your hand on your belly, feeling a little weak from all these complications, “Your racist views are not the first to be spat in my face. And you all let her get away with this close-minded luxury.”

Now, when you brought up the others in her shame, she finally found the courage to argue back, “The Galra destroyed my home. You have no idea what it was like, knowing everything you grew up with was gone! My mother, my father - “

“Shut up!”

Your voice held an immeasurable amount of sadness, of fury, half towards them and half towards the already deceased Zarkon.

“Zarkon destroyed your home! Zarkon destroyed mine! Zarkon tore families apart for over 10,000 years!” you scolded, not as a mother, but as that angry and scared and isolated person fleeing from being hunted, “It’s time you realize that you were not the only one personally attacked by him. Living through that is not something I plan on going through again, not for me and not for my children. But based on your actions, all of your actions, you are closely following his footsteps.”

Are they going to let Atlas and his sister be ripped apart from their father? Would they condemn Lotor’s family because of the actions of another? Did Allura truly find every life valuable?

That was what did it. Allura bit her bottom lip, shame choking her throat. It was bad enough that this was happening in front of her allies, where she was supposed to be the strong one, the one raised with leadership, but your words were impossible to push out. She couldn't forgive Zarkon. Couldn’t forgive the Galra. It was already too ingrained in her soul. Forgiveness was never an option and she knew this would be her downfall.

“How dare you compare her to him. Allura has done nothing but take down Zarkon from his reign on the throne,” Lance yelled back, “Or did you forget that he destroyed other planets, too?”

“And what was your plan after that, huh? What did you plan on doing for the displaced slaves? The Galra who suffered under his rule as well? Or would you have had them all killed?” you pressured them to answer, dared them to speak what was truly in their hearts, “Would Voltron have slaughtered every Galra they come across because they were associated with Zarkon?”

Krolia stepped in besides her son, knowing the topic of race was getting to the both of them, “That’s not how this works. We would’ve peacefully dismantled the Empire’s regime with as little deaths as possible. The princess trusted the Blades, there’s no reason she would not extend that trust to the innocent Galra.”

“I beg to differ,” you scoffed, “You think you’re safe?”

Krolia faced you, this time as a mother, as a Galran mother protecting her own family.

“You think because you side with them that you would be exempt from suspicion? No. No, I know how the Blades work and I know that after the Empire would’ve been wiped out, your clan would be next. It doesn't take much to pin the stereotypes of the few on the individual. You’d be a downright fool to think otherwise. As long as you have purple skin, you are a potential threat and a target in her eyes.”

“That’s not true!”

“Isn’t it? Then tell me right now, if I looked like her,” you nodded to Romelle, “Would you have treated me and my son with your idiotic hostility?”

This was too much for you. You were weak standing up for so long, talking for so long, stressing for so long. You went through childbirth once without Lotor, you will not do it again. Not without your husband to witness the first cries of his second offspring. For him to hold and cherish and protect. You brought a hand up to rub at the temples of your crown, trying to soothe the headache forming there. You wanted to keep your own views out of this, out of everything that happened in your life and in Lotor’s, but now those views were being forced upon Atlas because of a princess who couldn't control her tongue.

And you knew damn well Atlas had his own misguided opinions when it came to the Galra, to Zarkon, to Alteans, and now, to Voltron.

“Don’t spread your hatred to my son. He already sees Voltron as the enemy, already knows the prejudices that comes with being part Galran,” and, oh, it hurt to speak those words out loud, “I don't care about your views. Any of your views. Whether you agree with me or not is none of my concern. Right now, you are going to prove that you truly, honestly, want that title of Defenders of the Universe by bringing back my husband.”

“We told you, he’s dead. He couldn't have possibly survived in the Rift.”

“He’s alive. I know it,” but did you really? “I leave you with this option to save the future. The Paladins can depart when they are ready, when they all have a clear, unbiased goal in mind.”

Yes. Yes, you were looking at Allura specifically, but you knew your last sentence extended to each and every one of them.

“I would like say this reminder: I am not here to harm any of you, but if you attack my ship and endanger my son, I will not show mercy a second time.”

“Wait...wait, you’re letting us go?” Hunk’s relieved tone mirrored many of the others, “Just like that? No torture, no pain, no nothing? That’s…”

“No. I am letting the Paladins go. Everyone else stays with me,” your eyes drifted over to Shiro, Coran, Krolia, and even Romelle, “We have some political issues to discuss. Unless this is settled, I can not protect you against the laws of the Galra Empire. Not even Voltron is above justice.”

You turned towards the door and glanced once more over your shoulder, taking note of Allura’s tear-streaked face. Oddly enough, with how much Lotor embellished her, put her on a pedestal as the one who can supply endless quintessence to the dying worlds, you truly saw her as nothing more than a pitiful girl who was thrown into a war unprepared. Sadly, she wasn’t the only one. Sadly, she made all the wrong choices.

“And frankly, if you don't ensure Lotor’s return, I am not against the execution of the Emperor’s assassins.”

Swords clashed as Atlas parried against his father’s swing. The broadsword took both of his hands to hold since it was much too big for him now. That wouldn’t hinder him from his lessons, though. His training was important, both for survival and for protecting you should the time come. Atlas had big shoes to fill and he was going to do it right. With a struggling grunt, he used his smaller body to his advantage and slid under Lotor’s spread legs, surprising him for a split second.

That split second was all it took for Atlas to knock his father down onto his front and pull out the moon blade from his sheath. He held it precariously close to his neck, claiming victory over this sparring session.

“Very good, son, very good. Always use everything you have to turn the tide of the battle,” he spoke, smiling proudly despite the sharp knife pressing against his throat, “You are getting stronger every day, warrior.”

Atlas released his Papa, letting him rise to his feet and turn to face his opponent. His approving smile, the matching armor, even the way he clasped his hand in pride all felt real. But he wasn't actually here. Artificial intelligence isn’t a replacement for the actual thing and maybe that thought sitting in the back of Atlas’ mind made him spiteful. Upset. He avoided looking up at Lotor and instead kept his solemn gaze glued to the floor.

The hologram frowned at the despondent expression, “What is wrong, little star?”

Little star. It hurt his chest hearing that since it felt too real when his logical mind told him that, no, that light standing before him wasn’t his father. He was fake. Uploaded to the computer main system just in case something happened to him. And now, that something happened, and Atlas realizes he hates this. He hates sparring with this...this illusion.

He hated it because he felt alone again. Like those days he would ask “Mama, where is Papa?” on Planet Falerd. Like those times he would watch other children run to their father’s open arms with happiness and child-like glee. Like those painful nights he would hear his own mother, hear you, sobbing and whispering for Lotor in grief. Atlas likes to think he knew how to read his own feelings for someone his age, knew he could control himself better than anyone else.

It was something he looked up to about his Papa. But right now, when that illusion knelt down and studied him with concern and worry, Atlas finds that he hates him. Not only did Lotor hurt him by disappearing to fuck knows where, he hurt you. Again. He left his family alone, left them to run and hide like before. Except, this time, this time Atlas wouldn’t let you do it. This time, he wanted his father to be held responsible, whether he vanished of his own free will or not.

“My son, please. Speak to me, I am here for you.”

“But you’re not, are you?” he muttered, “Not really. You’re gone.”

“Oh...Atlas, come here.”

The teen sat cross-legged on the floor as the hologram took his spot behind him, caging his body with a false sense of security. The scenery around them changed then, white powdery snow and tall trees hibernating all around. He remembers this. That cold place, the tree where he got himself stuck at the way top. Atlas recalls the fear he had in his tiny body back then. He recalls the relief he felt when Lotor had carefully carried him down.

He sniffled, the tough warrior facade cracking with every tear threatening to spill down his cheek, “You said you wanted to stay here, with us. With me and Mama. And now you’re gone. You’re such a liar, Papa…I hate you. I hate you so much.”

The hologram stayed silent at those words, those three little words he knew he deserved. This AI was no replacement for a real father. Atlas deserved to hate him for what has transpired these past three years. Three years that the real Lotor, wherever he may be, will never get back. Mistakes were made and, just like before, nothing would excuse a father for leaving his family when they needed him the most.

“Papa is coming back,” Lotor encouraged, “He will always come back for you and your mother.”

“You don't have to lie to me. I know you’re...you’re…”

Dead.

The AI sighed, recognizing where this depression was stemming from, for he himself had gone through it several times before. But this was not about him, this was about Atlas, and if there is anything he can do to raise his son in a life better than his own, then he would do it. Lotor would use his knowledge, his experience with that dark shadow to guide his child to the light.

“Atlas, show me the blade.”

He did as told and still, to this very day, it was strongly glowing. Not once since he had it, since Lotor found them on Planet Falerd, has it flickered or died out. Lethal, sharp, and threatening like any expertly crafted weapon. But to Atlas, it was more than a weapon. It was proof. Evidence that his father was alive somewhere out there. But there was that doubt scratching the back of his mind. Doubt that, well, maybe this was just some glowing chemical that never died out.

“What do you see?”

“It’s glowing…” “And what does that tell you, son?”

“Papa, it’s just a dagger - “

“What does the dagger tell you?”

Atlas sighed, heart heavy and despising all of this. Why did his father always have to be difficult?

“What does the quintessence tell you, Atlas?” Lotor asked once more, “What did I tell you about the quintessence in there?”

“That it’s connected to your life and your love for Mama…”

“Not just your Mama, Atlas. For you, too. For my family.”

Atlas sniffled again, bringing the tip of his cloak up to wipe at his wet tears.

“I love you, Atlas. You and your mother. I found my way to the both of you once, I can do it again. I can do it as many times as needed, I promise you that. I will be coming back,” Lotor’s voice held that same conviction in them when he agreed to be his father so long ago, “And when I return, you can hate me as much as you want. You can yell and fight and ignore me. Anything for your forgiveness, my son.”

That’s when Atlas realized something. Yes, yes, he does hate his father, but more importantly, he wanted him back in his life. He wanted to be a family again. Was he spoiled to desperately want that small sense of comfort? Was it okay to be angry when it was taken away from him? Was all of this...was it fair for him?

The boy turned around and hugged Lotor, burying his face in his neck and silently cried. He was scared of being alone again. He was scared of his father truly being gone from existence. He was scared of growing up without him. Atlas was just a kid. He wasn’t ready to be anything more than that right now.

“Just come home alive, Papa.”

Lotor hooded his eyes sadly at his trembling son then squeezed him back, hugging him with all the emotions an AI could possibly express.

“I promise, Atlas. I promise.”

#lotor x reader #paladins be drinking that dumb bitch juice #as usual #spacestories

145 notes · View notes

horansqueen · 6 years ago

Text

BabyGirl 8.0

NOTES:

♥ this is based on a concept i received a few weeks ago and ppl asked that i made a story with it. ♥ i planned 3-4 long parts but i think it’ll be 8-10 short parts ♥ 3.5k. fluff. ♥ there may be smut but i doubt it and IF it happens it wont be as explicit as my other smut works. ♥ i didn’t proofread and if you read my stuff you know i never do because im a lazy ass. ♥ please tell me if youre still interested in this story? i feel like its dying slowly lol ♥ if you have any questions please dont hesitate.

♥ PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5 // PART 6 // PART 7

8.0 PIZZA SAUCE & VESTIGE OF LOVE

HIM

When the doorbell rang, I was not sure if it was the pizza or Louis and I was surprised to see Louis holding the pizza I ordered with a incredibly huge grin. Freddie was looking at me, his head laying against his father's shoulder and when I reached to grab the pizza, Louis pulled away and moved his son closer to me.

"Take Freddie, I don't trust you with the pizza." he joked, making me roll my eyes with a smile.

I took Freddie in my arms and walked inside, taking off his coat and stuff while Chelsea was looking at us excitedly.

"Where is the most beautiful princess on the planet?" Louis asked a bit too loud as he took his own coat off, putting the pizza on the couch.

"Uncle Louiiiis!"

"There she is!" he let out with a grin, crouching down to her level and opening his arms.

She threw herself at him and they hugged tight, making my heart twist in my chest. I was still mad at him. Mad that he hid my own daughter from me. Mad that he lied to me all these years. Mad that I couldn't trust him anymore. And also jealous. Jealous that he formed a bond with my daughter, a bond I desperately wanted and needed.

He got up, bringing her with him as he kept on holding her tight. I don't know if it's the way I was looking at him but when our eyes met, his smile faltered and he put my daughter back on the ground.

"Okay kids, how about we eat that pizza?"

Freddie's face seemed to light up while Chelsea just threw her arms in the air again with an other "Yessss!". Louis made his way to the couch and I bent down from behind it.

"Not in the living room, Lou, they're kids and this is pizza."

With a low sigh, Louis got up again and grabbed the box as the kids stared at him. I was aware Louis knew how to take care of a kid but we were very different persons and he knew me well enough to be aware of my habits. I did eat in the living room, of course, and with adults it could always pass, but kids were an other story.

"Come on guys, let's go in the kitchen!"

They followed him obediently and he helped Freddie on a chair as I grabbed a few plates. Louis joined me and search for a pair of scissors before cutting small pieces of pizza for his son. I watched him and did the same on a different plates and we brought them to the kids who started eating with their hands. I grimaced but decided to keep my mouth shut as we both took a few pieces of pizza, joining them at the table.

It's only when they were done that my heart seemed to literally stop in my chest. The table was covered with pizza sauce and while trying to get down from her chair, Chelsea gripped it and left red traces on the white wood.

"Chelsea wait!"

She didn't listen and kept walking, making me hold my breath. I almost tripped to catch her and grabbed one of her wrists gently, making her look up in my eyes.

"I'm going to the bathroom to clean." she explained, blinking a few times.

I stared at her, my heart still beating hard against my rib cage. It was hard to remember that kids don't think like us and I obviously knew my daughter didn't mean wrong, but it was something I was just not used to yet. I looked up when Louis joined us, extending me some wipes and keeping a few.

"Chelsea, you know the rules, darling, don't you?" he let out, grabbing her free wrist and moving it up while cleaning her hand.

"I forgot."

I remained motionless for a few more seconds before imitating him, wiping the grease from her other hand until it was completely clean.

"Are you done eating now?" he asked again, letting go of her wrist as she nodded. "Okay, you can go back to the living room to watch the movie. Freddie will join you soon.

My eyes followed her until she was out of sight and finally moved back to Louis.

"Thanks.." I said as he grabbed the dirty wipes from my hands.

"You're welcome."

We walked back to the kitchen and Louis cleaned his son too before putting him down from his chair and telling him to go join Chelsea to watch the movie. It took Freddie longer to walk away but we remained silent until we were all alone.

"Don't worry mate, that kind of thing is easy to remember." he just said, grabbed a few more wipes to clean my chair. "It's everything else that's complicated."

I got out of my thoughts and walked to the sink to grab a cloth, wetting it quickly and bringing it back to the table. Louis and I both cleaned in silence and when we were done, I turned to him again, leaning against the counter.

"It's going well though, she called me 'uncle' a few days ago."

Louis smiled wide and sat back at the table, his body still facing me. I didn't know why I wanted to share all this with him, but he was pretty much the only person I could talk about it with besides my ex girlfriend.

"Chelsea calls people like that when she loves them." he explained.

"I know. I feel lucky she already considers me family." I admitted with a small shrug. "I just... I just dread the day I'm gonna tell her i'm actually her father."

He sent me a sad smile and nodded, fixing his hair by moving a lock on the right, over his eyes. I slipped my hands in my pockets, glancing in the living room's direction, hearing the movie in the background.

"I can't say I know how scary it must be, but I have no doubt it is." he expressed with compassion. "Just trust yourself, and trust Chelsea. I know you noticed already, but she's a very smart little girl. She's already suffered enough from not knowing her father. You getting in her life is the best thing that could happen to her, Niall. I'm serious."

I wouldn't have had to get in her life just now if they hadn't lied to me. Chelsea wouldn't have suffered from not having a father if they didn't hid her from me all those years. I swallowed those thoughts and inhaled deeply before sighing. I knew I would have to let go of this grudge at some point but clearly, I was not ready.

"Yea, maybe you're right."

"I am."

We remained in silence for a while and Louis finally got up, opening my fridge and grabbing two beers, handing me one. We opened them at the same time and took a sip. It immediately made me feel a bit better and I put it on the counter, lost in my thoughts again. How was I going to let go of this incredible anger I had inside?

"So, how is it going with her?"

I tried to focus on Louis again and looked up at him, shrugging.

"Very well, I think. We get along great." I pointed out. "Like you said, she's amazing. And her imagination is so surprising at times."

I thought of all the things she had told me earlier and it made the left corner of my lips move up. Maybe I was biased, but I truly believed Chelsea was the most extraordinary kid in the whole world. No, I was not biased. She really was.

"She's fascinating." I just added.

"She is, but I was not talking about her."

As if on cue, my phone started vibrating in my pocket and I took it out, noticing a message from my ex girlfriend. I quickly typed an answer, telling her where we were, and put my phone on the counter next to my beer.

"Not well." I just confessed with a sigh, rubbing both my hands on my eyes. "She tried to kiss me and I backed away."

When I opened my eyes again, Louis was staring at me, grimacing.

"Ouch."

"I know, there's just no place for this in my head right now." I continued. "I don't know how I feel, I'm all over the place, and I don't want to start something with her if it's to end again. I don't even know if she wants to be with me for the right reasons, or if we just want things to go back to how they used to be. Because we can't go back, it's impossible."

"Niall, listen to me." Louis ordered in a low voice, taking a step closer. "You love her. You've loved her all along. And I know she loves you too. I don't think she ever stopped."

My heart skipped a beat at his words and I looked up in his eyes, trying to discover is he was sincere. Why did I want his words to be true so fucking bad?

"You should give it a chance. Who knows where it can lead you?"

I shook my head and turned around, taking a few steps away.

"It could lead to hurting Chelsea. It could lead to making her believe she's going to have a family, and then making things worse if it ends up not working. Do you see all the wrong it could do to her?"

"Niall!"

I turned back to him in a swift movement and stared at him. He was serious in a way I hadn't seem him be very often. He put his beer gently on the table and moved closer to me, grabbing both my arms.

"No matter what happens, you will always be Chelsea's father, and she will always be Chelsea's mother. Those are facts. No one and nothing can take this away from you, you understand?"

The truth behind his words made something jump in my throat and I swallowed what felt like an emotion lump. I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in and he kept talking.

"You don't have to tell Chelsea about it now, you can give it time. But you should give you two a chance."

We looked in each other's eyes for a few minutes and I finally sighed, moving out of his embrace.

"I'll think about it."

"You know what they say, 'it's better to regret doing something, than regret not doing it.' Or something like that."

Maybe he's right. Maybe I should give it a try, maybe I should kiss her, maybe I should give Chelsea a family. Maybe I should do it for the three of us, and maybe it would make all of us happy. But maybe it wouldn't, and this possibility was constantly flashing in my mind like the red light of an alarm. And I couldn't seem to forget about it.

HER

I drove to the address as fast as I could and parked in the driveway, a bit taken aback by the house in itself. It was impressing, and bigger than I imagined, but I tried to push the thought away and walked quickly to the door. Sometimes, I forgot Niall was rich and famous. In fact, I forgot about it most of the time. He's always been the laid-back guy, hanging out with the same friends he's always had, doing the same things he's always loved, and enjoying a night at home in front of the tv or with a few friends at the pub more than anything else. It was something I always liked about him, and that's probably why Louis and him get along so well.

I rang the doorbell and tried to listen to what was happening inside. I couldn't hear Chelsea but after a few seconds, I heard steps coming my way and the door swung open. I expected to see Niall but my smile fell down slightly when I saw Louis. It only took half a second to smile back and walk in, wrapping my arms around my friend. He pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek gently right before I pulled away.

"Hello darling, how are you?" he asked in a low and gentle tone, making me feel at ease immediately.

"Just happy the day is over."

Louis glanced at his watch and raised his eyebrows.

"Weren't you supposed to get out earlier than that?"

I grabbed his wrist to take a look at the time and finally sighed, nodding slowly. 10 pm.

"Yes, but Carly was late and I had to wait until she got there." I explained with a grimace, letting go of his arm. "Why are you even here?"

"Niall needed company." he let out with a smirk just as Niall walked in the room.

The atmosphere switched suddenly and I felt my heart jump in my chest. I was so mad at myself for feeling Niall's presence with every fiber of my body. It was becoming a problem and I had no idea how I would be able to wean myself off of him. It was worse than a drug.

"I didn't need anything, you sort of invited yourself." Niall laughed, slipping his hands in his pockets.

Louis started laughing and Niall's eyes finally met mine and like an idiot, I looked away, feeling my heart hit against my rib cage. Maybe I should have let him kiss me a few days ago. Maybe I was wrong, maybe a pity kiss was better than no kiss at all. I breathed in and looked up again at Niall. He was still staring at me and my lips curled despite myself.

"How's Chelsea?"

"She's good, she fell asleep on the couch with Freddie." he explained, making me nod.

"Okay guys, I love both of you very much, but i'm just gonna grab my kid and leave."

Louis moved between us to reach the living room and I looked down at my hands, trying to calm down the erratic beating of my heart. I wanted to talk to him, to tell him something clever or interesting, but I simply licked my lips and cleared my throat, nervous for no apparent reason.

"Thanks again for today, Niall." I just said, shaking my head. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Hey," he let out softly, bringing his fingers to my chin to move my head up. He waited until my eyes met his to send me a smile. "You can call me any time, really. I was happy to help."

It was hard to focus on anything but his fingers on my skin but I nodded after a while as I finally made sense of his words. Louis reappeared with his son asleep in his arms and Niall's hand fell down only to hug Louis cautiously. I saw my best friend whisper something in his hear, making Niall frown and nod but quickly pushed the thought away when Louis turned to me, taking me in a close hug.

"Don't be too hard on him but mostly, don't be so hard on yourself, will you?" he whispered, his breath hitting gently my neck and making me smile.

I nodded and kissed his cheek before doing the same to Freddie. We both watched Louis leave and when the door closed behind him, I inhaled deeply, realizing my heart was still beating harder than it should.

"You look like you could use a drink."

His voice was soft, and I desperately wanted to say yes. I knew it was a bad idea, I knew I would probably end up even more hurt than I already was, and my whole body was telling me to run away as far as I could from him, but I knew it wouldn't change anything. It was simply a way my heart had found to save itself, some sort of survival instinct I had to fight against.

"Do you have wine?"

His lips curled into a fond smile and he nodded slowly. I followed him to the living room and gently, he took Chelsea in his arms and brought her in the hall. I didn't follow him. Instead, I sat on the couch and leaned my head on it, closing my eyes. I was exhausted and my body was begging to sleep but I wanted to stay awake, just to spend some more time with Niall and maybe explain what had happened a few days ago. I still felt embarrassed and stupid for hoping we could have a chance but it was stronger than me. I had feelings for him I couldn't seem to smother at all.

I only opened my eyes again when I felt him sit next to me on the couch. I smiled when I saw he was handing me a glass of red wine and thanked him, taking a long sip of it and sighing louder than I should have, making him chuckle.

"I knew it would make you feel better."

I sent him a smile and drank again as he placed his beer between his legs. I've always thought it was a cute habit but tonight, the wine must have been strong because I thought it was hot.

"Why do we always end up discussing together, sitting on a couch with a drink, Niall?"

It made him laugh and he passed his hand in his hair, making my heart jump as he shrugged.

"That's a good question." he pointed out, looking away before diving his gaze in mine again. "Probably because we're both a bit lost, and we're trying to understand what exactly is happening to us. Seeing each other again after so many years and, with Chelsea and everything, it hasn't been easy on us. I guess it's gonna take a lot of discussions."

He grabbed his beer and swallowed almost half of it as I did the same with my own glass, putting it away when my glass was finally empty.

"I never wanted to hurt you, or make you feel bad, you know that, right?"

I knew it so I nodded, but that didn't mean I didn't feel like shit. For everything I put him through, but also for being rejected. He didn't have to love me, it was true, and it was not really surprising that he didn't anymore, but the thought still dug a hole inside my chest.

"I didn't want to hurt you either. I promise my intentions were good."

"I know." he breathed, putting his beer away, next to my empty glass, and shifting a bit on the couch to get closer to me.

I didn't know what he was doing but I liked it. However, I couldn't move. I just stayed motionless as he brought both his hands to my cheeks again, exactly like he had done a few nights ago, and I expected what he was going to do, or at least hoped for it. This time, though, I didn't back away. I waited impatiently until his lips pressed on mine and closed my eyes. My hands reached for his shirt slowly and I gripped it like I was holding on to him to stay alive, and perhaps, I was. His lips parted mine and I allowed him to kiss me deeper. He tasted exactly the same, and I hadn't realized just how bad I had missed it until that very moment. I couldn't think of anything better, and it suddenly hit me. That's why I thought it would be worse. Now that I had this again, not being able to get it again would be too hard and I had no idea how I would be able to recover from it. His warm mouth pressed more against mine and as crazy as it sounded, I could feel the beating of his heart against the palm on my hand against his chest. I didn't want this kiss to end but when it did, he remained close, his lips still brushing against mine.

I don't know how long we stayed close to each other but we both moved away slightly after a while, breathing in deeply and looking away, a bit embarrassed by what had happened.

"Do you want an other glass?" he asked in a low tone.

I could smell his cologne, mixed with the unique sent from his skin, and it made me feel dizzy, but perhaps it came from the way he had kissed me only a few seconds ago.

"I can't, I have to drive home."

I tilted my head, watching his facial expressions change a few times and a few seconds later, he shrugged and looked back in my eyes.

"Maybe you don't have to." he whispered. "Maybe you could stay the night."

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan fic #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall #niall fluff #niall story #niall fanfic #niall fic #niall fan fic #daddy niall horan #my fanfics #daddy!niall #niall horan writing #niall horan fan fiction

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thisisthedungeonthatneverends · 5 years ago

Text

His Name is Darkness

this is the dark and fucked up fic I was talking about

Pairing: Regis/Noctis (yes you read that correctly)

Rating: E

Warnings: incest (obvs), consensual father/son incest, self-loathing, unprotected sex, explicit sex

Written for this Kink Meme Prompt: Regis and Noctis have been fighting a growing attraction towards each other for a while. They're both aware of how each other feels but they know they shouldn't act on it and ignore it as much as possible. Until it gets too much to bear and they give in.

Be mindful of a non-linear narrative structure.

Click the read more if this is your jam. If not, kindly continue scrolling.

I will be immediately rebloging with the AO3 link

They won’t be disturbed; Regis had made certain. He’d had the guards vacate the corridor where the king’s suit is located, despite Clarus’ objections. The marble and granite that forms the high ceilings and wide halls of the citadel carries sound far to easily.

Breathy moans fill the bedchamber as the king covers the prince’s neck and jaw with wet, desperate kisses. Regis bites down on the pule point of Noctis’ neck, causing him to cling even tighter to the gold-embroidered black silk robe that is his father’s only clothing.

Regis pulls away and stares down into Noctis’ wide, bloodshot eyes.

“This is fucked up,” Noctis says softly with a subtle shake of his head.

Regis releases his hold of his son’s hips and takes a small step back. “Do you wish to leave? Or perhaps we could simply sit by the fireplace for a while?”

Their eyes meet as they have a thousand times before. Innocent looks between a father and a son; not-so-innocent looks between two people who had wanted each other for years.

“Noct-”

Noctis crashes is mouth into his father’s lips before his name can leave them.

They walked together, as they often did, through the king’s private garden. None but His Majesty, save for a select few groundskeepers, and then only during specified hours, were allowed to enter. Not even Clarus was permitted entry unless accompanied by Regis. The shield was elsewhere and it was not the groundskeepers’ shift, granting Regis and Noctis complete privacy.

They made small talk, Regis relaying idle gossip overheard from citadel staff and Noctis talking about school and the photography excursions Prompto would drag him along on. Not that Noctis was unhappy with this. No, Regis could tell that Prompto’s friendship made Noctis genuinely happy, and Noctis’ happiness was Regis’ happiness.

He could not help but wonder, though…

“So Noctis,” Regis said, pausing in their leisurely stroll, “This Prompto boy. You’ve grown quite close over these years, yes?”

Noctis shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. He’s pretty much my only friend outside my royal duties.”

Regis smiled. He laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m happy you’ve found someone who brings you happiness.”

They held eye contact. Noctis’ expression was unreadable.

“He..he’s, um” Noctis stammered and looked down. “He’s just a friend.”

Regis’ smile faded. His hand slipped down to the center of Noct’s back, and he could feel his son tense under his touch.

Noctis’s lips parted and his eyes darted back up.

Regis withdrew his hand and cleared his throat. “I should be returning to the throne room or Clarus will have the entire Crownsguard out after me.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ll not suffer Cor interrogating me again.”

Noctis laughed and subconsciously mirrored his father’s uneasy mannerism. “Um, yeah. Ignis is probably about to send out a search party for me, too. See ya.”

“Take care, Noctis.”

So, Regis though as they parted ways, the two boys were mere friends. He was relieved at that, though he would have rather not have entertained the thought of why this was so.

Regis opens his mouth to his son’s kiss, granting entrance to the eager tongue. What Noctis lacks in finesse he makes up for in vigor, and Regis returns it in kind. He slips his hands under Noctis’ Tshirt and runs his hands along the supple skin. He stops when he feels old scar tissue beneath his fingers, a reminder of the day he nearly lost his beloved boy. He lets his hands continue upward, slowly tracing the edges of the scar. Noctis pulls away, and for a heart-stopping moment, Regis fears he’s done something wrong.

“Please,” Noctis breaths against Regis’ lips.

Regis understands. He pulls the shirt up over Noctis’ head and tosses it aside.

“For you, Noctis, anything.”

Their weekly dinner together consisted of flame-broiled salmon, a wild rice pilaf, and some sort of root vegetable salad that Noctis did not touch, despite his father’s scolding.

“A king must be strong and healthy,” Regis insisted.

“Yeah, well, I’m not king yet, am I?”

Regis laughed and then sighed. “No, no you aren’t. Be finicky for I suppose.”

Noctis smiled through the last bite of fish. It wasn’t often that he saw his father’s smile or heard his laughter, what with the enemy growing closer by the day and the weight of the wall sapping his strength.

But Noctis’ attention was not on those awful things. It was on his the king’s face. His eyes. His lips. Lips that praised and admonished him. Lips that smiled and frowned. Lips that spoke gentle and powerful words. Lips that-

“Noctis?”

“Hm?” He swallowed his food quickly. “What was that.”

Regis rolled his eyes, but his relaxed expression told Noctis that the older man was not upset.

“His Highness is daydreaming again.”

Noctis chuckled. “His Majesty is right. Sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked why you were staring at me.”

“Oh, um,” Noctis felt an unwelcome heat in his cheeks. “I guess I just miss seeing you smile.”

And so Regis smiled again.

“What?”

“I guess I miss smiling.”

It’s Regis who kisses Noctis this time, but this time softly and carefully. He places his hands on Nocti’s chest and gently pushes. Noctis allows himself to be lead to the bed and sits down on the edge.

Regis kneels down in front of Noctis and massages his thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He smiles softly up at him, admiring the way his pale skin seems to glow by the fire light. Noctis’ eyes never leave his father’s while unbuttons and unzips his pants. He shuffles his hips awkwardly, allowing Regis to pull them off, along with his underwear. Now naked, Noctis blushes.

“You’re beautiful,” Regis whispers and pushed Noctis’ legs apart.

Wait,” Noctis says. “Is...is your knee okay like that?”

“Thank you, my son. I’ll be alright.”

He takes his son’s cock into his hand and gives it a few caring strokes before bringing the tip to his lips.

The room was quiet save for the crackling of the fireplace and the sound of Regis’ own heart pounding against his chest. An open book rested in his lap. He had been staring at the same paragraph for the better part of an hour, eyes skimming over words, but his mind not registering their meaning. Other things weighed on the king’s mind tonight.

Other things, namely Noctis.

It was perfectly normal for a father’s mind to be preoccupied with thoughts of his son. The way his smile, rare but vibrant, lit up any room. The way his fighting prowess grew each day he trained with his sword and his magic. The way he would speak and Regis could swear on Ramuh’s staff that it was Aulea speaking through him.

Yes. It was normal for a son to make his father’s heart swell.

What was not normal, however, was for a son to make his father’s cock swell.

Regis sighed heavily and set the book aside, not bothering to mark his place. The hour was late and no matter how painfully he strained against his sleep pants, he would ignore those certain ideas of Noctis.

At least in his waking hours. Dreams, however, were a world unto themselves...

Noctis throws his head back and moans when his father’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock.

“Fuck, Dad...”

The vibrations of a small chuckle ripple through him and he shudders. Noctis grips the duvet cover with one hand, while the other tangles in Regis’ hair. He relishes in the silken texture of the soft silver strands and combs them out of the way for a better view. He looks down and almost finishes at the sight. The prince is in awe of the way the king’s face still manages to look so majestic and regal, even with his eyes closed while his lips slip down his length and his cheeks hollow as he sucks.

Pleasure pools in his gut and he continues to moan loudly as Regis sucks harder and bobs his head faster up and down his cock. He mutters obscenities and nonsense syllables, his grip in Regis’ hair tightens and he can’t control how his hips thrust into to hot mouth.

He looses it when Regis cups his balls and rolls them gently between his fingers.

“AH! Dad..I’m close! I’m gonna...”

Regis opens his eyes, lips locked tight around the base of Noctis’ cock, and that’s all the invitation Noctis needs to spill his release down his father’s throat.

Regis hums in satisfaction, sending another ripple of pleasure through Noctis, and swallows everything he’s been given.

Noctis’ eyes slip closed and he collapses back onto the bed. He feels Regis climb up, his arms and legs on either side of him.

“I didn’t want...not yet,” Noctis groans.

Regis laughs. “You’re still blessed with the virility of youth, my boy,” Regis says and strokes Noctis’s face. Noctis opens his eyes to see his father smiling down at him. “And we have all night.”

Noctis could feel the darkness of his bedroom like a weight pressing down on his chest. The darkness, the night, synonymous with his own name. He felt it appropriate, as it matched the nature of his shameful fantasy.

He tossed the light covers off of himself and reached into his tented boxers. He inhaled sharply through his teeth when his hand met his cock, as if his own touch had burned him. He should burn for this, he thought. But that did not stop him from taking himself in hand and letting his mind play a slide show of the object of his desire. The king. His king. His father. His father, smiling at him from across the dinner table, gazes lingering longer than they should. His father, clapping a hand on his shoulder and telling him he’s proud of him. His father, whose hand he wished was the one stroking him to completion.

“Dad!” he cried and came. Cum streamed down his hand and tears streamed down his face.

He didn’t bother to wipe either of them off.

Noctis leans up and kisses Regis again, unhindered by the taste of himself.

“Um, lay down and get comfortable. I...I want to return the favor.

“As you wish,” Regis says, still smiling. And oh, does Noctis love that smile.

Regis rolls off of Noctis and makes himself comfortable, his head resting on the pillows at the head of the bed.

Noctis straddles Regis’ hips, mindful of his weak leg and careful not to put too much weight on the older man. He tugs on the robe’s sash and the robe falls open, baring the king’s body. Noctis’ mouth fell open; he was beautiful. He leans down and kisses Regis’ neck and down his chest, eliciting soft breaths and quivering sighs from the king. He runs his hands down his father’s sides, starting below his arms ans slowly moving down his torso, coming to rest on his hips. Regis’ continued noises are like music, and they spur Noctis on.

He readjusts himself, kneeling between parted legs and continuing his ministrations downward until he reaches his destination: Regis’ cock that was almost identical to Noctis’ own but surrounded by a nest of silver curls. Another day Noctis could have jokingly coined any number of colloquialisms relating to the erect cock of a king. But those can wait. His mouth, though… his mouth can not wait; can not wait to feel and taste the weight of his own father. He pushes aside any thought of just how wrong that though is and waists no more time.

“I know what it’s like.”

Noctis looked behind him, turning away from the floor length window and his view of the sunset over the cityscape of Insomnia.

“Know what what’s like?” he asked, trying and failing to mask the tension in his voice.

Regis’ beard concealed his expression. “To want something completely out of reach.”

“But… you’re the king. You can have anything, can’t you?”

“Oh, Noctis,” Regis said and stepped closer to his son. He could have reached out to touch his flawless young face. If he dared. “Wise beyond your eighteen years, yet so naive.”

Noctis scoffed. “I’m not naive.”

“And that, dear boy,” Regis reached forward and touched only his son’s shoulder. “is precisely my point.”

Noctis looked down at the hand on his shoulder, no less elegant for its wrinkles and subtle scars from years of baring the Ring. “So, what is it?” Noctis asked. “What do you want that you can’t reach?”

Their eyes met. Eye that were identical save for the age and loss behind one set and the youth and hope behind the other.

They both knew.

Neither answered.

It’s almost too much. Regis stifles his moan because he knows that if he does not exercise control, this will be over far too quickly. Noctis sucks his cock like it’s his lifeline and Regis girps his hands in the young man’s midnight-colored hair, desperate for something to ground himself. He hears and feels Noctis grunt and loosens his grip with great effort.

It has been so long sense he has felt another’s touch. So long that he has yearned for this touch; for Noctis’ touch. For his hands, for his mouth, for his body. His own son. He thinks himself a depraved old deviant but cannot bring himself to care, not while his gorgeous prince is licking him from his balls and up his cock to the head before swallowing him back down again.

“Noctis...I can’t...” he warns, struggling to form words past the mounting heat threatening to spill over far too early.

To his relief, Noctis stops, though there is worry behind his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not at all, Son. I simply wasn’t going to last much longer at that rate and I’d rather not be finished quite yet.”

Noctis sighs with relief and moves back up, hovering over his father as Regis had done before.

“There’s a bottle in the drawer there,” Regis says, pointing to the bedside table. Noctis opens the drawer and hand Regis the slim black bottle of lube he finds there. Regis flips the cap open and pours a liberal amount onto his fingers.

“I’m going to prepare you, Noctis. I couldn’t bare to hurt you.”

Noctis nods and licks his lips in anticipation. He’s straddling Regis’ hips again, and Regis grabs his thigh with one hand and reaches behind him with the other. Noctis lets out a small gasp when slick fingers begin to probe around his entrance.

“Relax,” Regis reminds him.

Noctis nods and breathes deeply through his nose, calmed by the scent of cologne, burning wood, and sex. His mouth soundlessly falls wide open when a single finger slips inside him.

He knew who it was before they even finished knocking.

“Come in, Clarus.”

Clarus opened the large wooden door of the king’s study and closed it gently behind him.

“It’s Saturday.”

Regis smirked. “Are you a bodyguard or a walking calendar?”

Clarus chuckled. “I was reminding you of the date seeing as how you seem to have your head in the clouds lately. Is everything alright?”

Regis yawned, as if to demonstrate the shield’s point. “The ring weighs heavy lately, old friend. As does the state of the war effort. I’m simply tiered.”

Clarus nodded his understanding. “Perhaps your dinner with Noctis tonight will lift your spirits. Ignis awaits instruction to bring him to the citadel at your ready.”

Regis groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Or...did you forget. Again. You know it has been-”

“I know, I know...” Regis huffed and straightened his posture. “I’ve not forgotten. But these plans need reviewing and relayed back to Captain Drautos by morning. I can’t neglect them. Please send my apologies to my son.”

“Very well, Your Majesty. But my I suggest you also do so yourself, and sooner rather than later. He put up a brave face but I could tell that he was quite disappointed last week. I’ve no doubt he’ll be more-so a second time.”

“I know. And I will. Thank you, Clarus.”

Clarus bowed and took his leave.

Regis stared down in shame at the plans on his desk.

They were finished.

Regis can feel his son’s thigh muscles quivering under his hand, and he can feel the hole relax around his lubed finger ans he slowly works it in and out. He adds a second wen he judges that Noctis is relaxed enough. He keep close watch over the younger man’s face for any sign of pain, but bliss is all he finds there.

“How does it feel, Noctis?”

“Mmmmmmm,” is his only reply. Satisfied with this, he removes his fingers and lays his hand on Noctis’ hip.

“Please, Dad,” Noctis whines.

“Yes, Son. Are you ready?”

Noctis nods and Regis holds his cock steady.

Noctis places his hands on Regis’ chest to steady himself and slowly, finally, lowers himself down into the ready and waiting cock. He cries out louder than he’d meant to when the head breaches his entrance. The feeling and size is nowhere near comparable to the two fingers that had been inside him only moments before, and it’s more than a little uncomfortable at first.

“Are you hurt?” Regis asks, alarmed by his son’s scream.

Noctis shakes his head. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he repeats, continuing to lower himself, filling himself up until Regis is completely bottomed out inside him. They both take deep, ragged breaths, taking time to adjust to the feeling of filling and being filled.

Once the pain had given way to only mild discomfort mixed with pleasure, Noctis nods his head and mouths, “Okay.”

Taking a firm hold of Noctis’ ass, Regis slowly rolls his hips upward. The moan in unison and Noctis grinds down in time with his father. They repeat their movements a few times until they set a rhythm.

A bit more confident now, Noctis sits up, holding his own weight on his legs. This new angle Let Regis thrust deeper up into him. Noctis’ eyes blow wide and he practically screams when Regis his prostate.

“AH! FUCK Yes!”

As the thrusts come harder and faster and the pleasure cries grow louder and more desperate, Regis takes Noctis’ cock in his hand.

“Noctis...Noctis I’m close.

“Yes! Yes, Dad, please!”

With that plea, the king thrusts hard one final time and spills inside the prince with a deep, guttural moan.

Noctis can feel the heat of his father’s release spreading inside him, and a few more steady strokes of his cock sent him following close behind with his own orgasm.

Noctis wasn’t supposed to be here. Not even Ignis knew where he was, as it was late and he had called a ride-share service to drop him off a block away. He’d walked the rest of the way to the citadel and slipped past every guard post he could between the service entrance and the king’s study.

This month had been miserable. His father had canceled their weekly dinners three times in a row and was always suddenly busy any time he went looking for him. This time though, his father would have to see him.

He didn’t knock. He knew the door would be unlocked, so he let himself in.

Regis jumped when the door slammed open.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum, by the ASTRALS you KNOW you can’t just come barging in here!” Regis yelled and threw his pen down on the hard wood desk.

Noctis’ resolve was steadfast and he closed the door behind him. “Why are you avoiding me?” he demanded.

“I’m not-” Regis sighed heavily and rubbed his face. “I’m not avoiding you, Noctis,” he said, all traces of anger gone from his voice, but not his posture, which was rigid and tense. “I’m sorry if this is how it seems, but I’ve simply been very busy.”

Noctis exhaled sharply. His eyes felt hot. He didn’t want to speak lest he cry in front of his father, but he had to make his feelings known.

“Look. I know we can’t...” he didn’t want to say it. He couldn’t say it. And to look at his his father, to see the expression of horror and realization spreading across his bearded face, he didn’t think he had to.

“We can’t!” he said, his voice beginning to crack. “We can’t, I know we can’t but that doesn’t give you the right to just… to just PUSH ME AWAY!”

Tears were free-flowing down his reddened face now, and he couldn’t be sure through his blurred vision, but he thought he saw a single tear escape his fathers eyes as well.

“Noctis,” Regis said softly. “Oh, Noctis, I’m so sorry!” Regis stood and crossed the room as quickly as he could with his limp, not having bothered with his cane.

“Even if I can’t be anything else, please Dad...” Now that he was closer, Noctis was sure.

His father wept as well.

“Please, Dad. Please just let me...just let me still be your son.”

“Noctis!” Regis cried, and took Noctis’ face in both hands. It was the first time he’d touched hid son’s face sense all of this began. “Noctis, look at me.”

And Noctis did. Tear-filled eyes met each other, inches apart.

“You are my son, Noctis. You are everything to me. Do you understand?”

Noctis’ lips quivered, but the rest of him was frozen.

“You. Are. EVERYTHING to me, Noctis,” Regis repeated. “Do you understand me!?”

Noctis sniffled and nodded. He placed his own hands over his father’s and laced their fingers together.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

With both men spent, Regis takes hold of Noctis’s shoulders and gently lowers him down to the bed and lays his son’s head on his chest. He pulls the covers up over them both and lovingly combs his fingers through Noctis’s tousled hair.

“You were wonderful, Noctis,” he whispers in his ear.

Noctis smiles sleepily and twirled a tuft of silver chest hair around his finger. “Yeah. You too.”

Regis watches with a contented smile as Noctis eyes drift closed. Within minutes, his breathing becomes slow and even and begins to snore softly.

“You are everything to me,” Regis whispers softly enough as to not wake Noctis.

Now, in the silence, the truth of what they had done begins to creep into the kings mind. But he entertains no such thought. In the morning they would face whatever aftermath of their meeting was to await them. For now, they would sleep in each others arms.

#tw: incest #tw: intrusive thoughts #ffxv #fanfic #fanfiction #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv fanfic #regis lucis caelum #Noctis Lucis Caelum

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nadziejastar · 6 years ago

Note

I don’t mind if Skuld meets up with Lea and Isa, as a friend. I just not looking forward to the writers pushing Skuld/Isa romantically. She barely had any screen time with him, and it would feel forced and infuriating. I’m fine with it if she’s meeting them again and getting to know each as FRIENDS, but I know the writers have a different idea. Honestly, there’s probably gonna be ship wars between Isa/Skuld and IsaLea.

Yeah, it does feel like they are going to push Isa/Skuld romantically, at least from Isa’s end. When I heard Lea and Isa’s backstory in KH3, I was totally incredulous. I knew it was total B.S. Like, it was just so contradictory to everything we saw previously, I didn’t buy it for one second. Like, who did they think they were kidding?

But even besides the bad retconning, it had such an awful effect on both Isa and Lea as characters. It was a horrible idea to make a mystery girl Isa’s motivation, let alone his potential love interest. That’s going to fuel terrible shipping wars. I have noticed that the worst shipping wars tend to happen because of bad writing. When the canon relationships are well-written, there is not as much controversy and toxicity.

Isa/Subject X Is A Horrible Pairing

Saïx: Back when we were still friends, we used to sneak into the castle.

Lea: Yeah.

Saïx: And we made a friend there, a girl. We apprenticed to Ansem the Wise to rescue her.

Subject X hasn’t had ANY screen time with them. She was just mentioned out of nowhere. Now all of a sudden, they were apprentices and doing everything in Organization XIII for her? And I love how Saïx is so casual about how they used to be friends. Nice to see how much you valued your friendship with Lea there. He talks like he couldn’t give less of a shit that they’re no longer friends.

Geppetto: Pinocchio! Pinocchio! Please! Give me back my son!

Riku: Sorry, old man. I have some unfinished business with this puppet.

Geppetto: He’s no puppet! Pinocchio is my little boy!

Riku: He is unusual. Not many puppets have hearts. I’m not sure, but maybe he can help someone who’s lost theirs.

In KH1, Riku was a huge asshole. It didn’t matter that he was trying to help Kairi. He kidnapped Pinocchio right in front of his pleading father and he wanted to steal his heart.

Axel: You’re sure things are better this way?

Saïx: I never expected you to question it. If you could save one of them…why would you choose the puppet? Or put it this way. Which would you rather suffer the loss of: some make-believe friendship, or a real one?

Saïx was also a huge asshole. He constantly dehumanized Xion and called her broken, defective, and “it”. He wanted to destroy her and didn’t care that Axel considered her a close friend. If you make finding Skuld his motivation, you are confirming that he was aware of his actions the whole time. If he had enough empathy to care about Skuld, why was he so cruel to Xion and Roxas? Why did he not feel bad for kidnapping Kairi, and trying to kill Sora and Riku?

Sora: Hey, let Pinocchio go, Riku.

Riku: A puppet that’s lost its heart to the Heartless… Maybe it holds the key to helping Kairi. How about it, Sora? Let’s join forces to save her. What? You’d rather fight me? Over a puppet that has no heart?

Sora: Heart or no heart, at least he still has a conscience.

Riku: Conscience?

Sora: You might not hear it, but right now it’s loud and clear. And it’s telling me you’re on the wrong side!

Riku: Then you leave me no choice.

In KH1, the message was clear: it’s wrong to join the villains, and steal people’s hearts, even for a girl. They’re the actions of a villain.

Kairi: You know, Riku has changed.

Sora: What do you mean?

Kairi: Well…

Sora: You okay?

Kairi: Sora, let’s take the raft and go—just the two of us!

And let’s face it: Riku was NOT presented as an appealing love interest for Kairi in KH1.

Lea: Yeah, and we failed. One day she was just gone!

Saïx: You gave up.

Lea: I did not give up. One day we’re apprentices, the next Ansem the Wise has up and vanished, the day after we’re Nobodies, the day after that we’re doing icky jobs for Xemnas. I couldn’t keep up with you.

Saïx: Following Xehanort’s Nobody was the only way to discover what happened to her. She was his lab rat.

Lea: So? You found her? I helped you rise up the ranks, so I hope it paid off?

Following Xemnas’ icky orders without any remorse doesn’t make Isa more sympathetic, nor does it help us support a possible romance between them. And why is Lea so nonchalant about this? He helped Saïx rise through the ranks, and he hopes it all “paid off?”

Are you crazy!? Of course it didn’t pay off!!! Your best friend sold his soul to the devil and is a Seeker of Darkness! He has yellow eyes and pointy ears. He’s corrupted by darkness! He lost his heart to Xehanort! And you think it might have paid off!? What the hell is wrong with you!? Do you not care about your friend at all?

Sora: Riku, why are you siding with the Heartless?

Riku: The Heartless obey me now, Sora. Now I have nothing to fear.

Sora: You’re stupid. Sooner or later they’ll swallow your heart.

Riku: Not a chance. My heart’s too strong.

Sora: Riku…

Riku: I’ve picked up a few other tricks as well. Like this, for instance. You can go see your friends now. Let’s get under way, already. And keep Sora away from Kairi until we’re ready to land.

When Sora hears that Riku joined the dark side to save Kairi, he says he is stupid!!!! He cares about Kairi, too. But he’s afraid Riku’s heart will be swallowed by darkness. He’s worried for his friend, and rightfully so! Besides, Kairi wouldn’t want that. Lea would have said the same thing if he was a true friend.

Saïx: I’m afraid not. Nary a trace. I started to wonder if we’d imagined her. Maybe she never existed. And then in time I awakened to a new purpose. I realized I could be stronger.

Okay…? So now all you wanted was to become stronger? It wasn’t about the girl? It was about power? First off, I don’t buy that at all. But whatever. Let’s go with it for argument’s sake.

Ansem: The heart that is strong and true shall win the Keyblade.

Riku: What? You’re saying my heart’s weaker than his?

Ansem: For that instant, it was. However, you can become stronger. You showed no fear in stepping through the door to darkness. It held no terror for you. Plunge deeper into the darkness, and your heart will grow even stronger.

Riku: What should I do?

Ansem: It’s really quite simple. Open yourself to the darkness. That is all. Let your heart, your being become darkness itself.

Isa is basically KH1 Riku. It wasn’t even about saving Kairi at that point. It was about being stronger than Sora and gaining power. This tempted Riku to open himself up to darkness. He sold his soul to Ansem after he lost to Sora! This makes Saïx more sympathetic how?

Saïx: The marks under your eyes. They’re gone.

Lea: Yeah. Don’t need ‘em.

Saïx: Always told you they’d stop you from crying. The upside-down tears.

Apparently Saïx has “always” been a condescending douchebag…

Riku: It’s up to me. Only the Keyblade master can open the secret door…and change the world.

Sora: But that’s impossible. How did this happen? I’m the one who fought my way here with the Keyblade!

Riku: You were just the delivery boy. Sorry, your part’s over now. Here, go play hero with this.

You know who else was a condescending douchebag? KH1 Riku! He kidnapped Belle, taunted the Beast, took the Keyblade from Sora, and then threw him a wooden toy while he was wallowing on the floor as Donald and Goofy left him. The difference is, Riku was a condescending asshole when he was a villain—the very beginning of his arc in the Dark Seeker Saga. Saïx is a condescending asshole during his “redemption”—the very end of his arc in the Dark Seeker Saga.

Lea: I didn’t forget you.

Saïx: Yes…I know. You wouldn’t do that. But…I was jealous.

Lea: You admit it.

So, what is his excuse? Why is he still allowed to party with everyone in the epilogue? Well, instead of being a victim of Xehanort in need of rescue, Saïx was just mad that Lea forgot about him and Subject X. And I love how Lea acted like he knew the entire time that he was jealous, and was just being too stubborn to admit it. I’m sorry, I gotta call B.S. again.

And yet, Axel couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his response. “Well, nice to know where I stand.”

He said it with a grin, but the hint of a frown tugged at the scar between Saïx’s brows. Apparently, the joke wasn’t very funny. “You made it back in one piece, didn’t you?”

Were you worried I wouldn’t? Axel almost said, but he didn’t want to deal with putting him in an even fouler mood. Disgust and rage seemed to linger closest to the surface of Saïx’s memories.

Axel didn’t know Saïx was “jealous”. He was desperate to find any evidence Saïx had feelings for him at all. On ~Day 72 Change~, Axel finally returns from Castle Oblivion. Roxas said he was worried about him, and Axel was upset that Saïx wasn’t. He is sad about how much his friend has changed. But let’s assume that was the truth. Let’s say that all of Saïx’s abuse in Days was him acting passive aggressively due to his petty jealousy over Axel hanging out with a couple of kids.

Maleficent: Why do you still care about that boy? He has all but deserted you for the Keyblade and his new companions, after all.

Riku: I don’t care about him. I was just messing with him a little.

Maleficent: Oh, really? Of course you were. Beware the darkness in your heart. The Heartless prey upon it.

Riku: Mind your own business.

Sora: Riku! What’s the matter with you? What are you thinking? Don’t you realize what you’re doing?

Riku: I was about to ask you the same thing, Sora. You only seem interested in running around and showing off that Keyblade these days. Do you even want to save Kairi?

Riku always used Kairi as a shield when he was bullying Sora. “Don’t you care about Kairi?” In reality, Riku was bitter that Sora made new friends. Yeah, he was trying to help Kairi. But she was just an excuse. He was being petty. It also seemed like he only became so hellbent on rescuing her, because he wanted to one-up Sora. The way KH3 was written, it also felt like Saïx was just using that girl as a cover for his own resentment of Lea. It didn’t seem like he genuinely cared about her very much. She was just a convenient scapegoat.

Right…this little room that Maleficent had made up just for me. I stayed here in this castle, except when I went to Captain Hook’s ship to get Kairi. And when I was here I spent most of that time in this room. Swinging a sword…reading books…and what else?

Thinking about things that upset him. He’d been angry at something. He’d believed it was his fault that Kairi was in that state…but he told himself that it wasn’t a mistake to have gone to other worlds and gently touched her face as she slept.

In KH1, they didn’t have an entire saga planned for the story. And it’s clear that Riku was originally written simply as a villain for the first game. An arrogant, jealous, bully who wants to steal your girlfriend. He has a weak heart that is prone to darkness. After they decided to make more games, they wanted to make Riku a main character. And so they focused on him being Sora’s best friend instead of his bully/rival. They tried to humanize his actions from the first game in the novel for CoM. They emphasized his his strong affection for Kairi as his motivation, and the reason for him turning to darkness. And...it didn’t work. He strokes her face while she’s sleeping.

All this did was make Riku seem creepy. To be honest, Riku always seemed creepy to me in KH1, even when I first played it as a 14-year-old. This is why they distanced themselves from that interpretation of Riku’s character. Terra became the reason he wanted to see the outside world, not Kairi. But now, this this what they want Isa to be like? He willingly joins someone he knows is evil, gladly follows their orders, and tries to murder his best friend…just so he can get his hands on the object of his affection? Someone he doesn’t even know? That comes off as creepy. And stalker-ish. They’re going backwards regarding positive character portrayals.

Lea: Stop it. The whole act. I thought this was all for her.

First of all, this is B.S.

“Shouldn’t you already be out on your mission, Axel?” Saïx interrupted.

Mission? Saïx hadn’t given him his assignment yet. Axel blinked up at him, and Saïx stared back. Oh. Axel felt a little bit sorry for Saïx and his inability to lie.

Saïx could not act to save his life.

Saïx: At first. I sacrificed everything to try and track her down. You’re the one who went off and made other friends. Left me and her both in the dust. It infuriated me how you just exited our lives. I lost…all sense of purpose.

Saïx never showed any kind of human emotion except disgust. He was by far the most Nobody-like Organization member. But he feels such rage after Axel leaves, that he tries to kill him over and over again. His best friend. All because he was jealous that Axel made new friends with a couple of children who didn’t treat him like shit? That makes him sympathetic how?

Saïx: Do you know what happens to those who lose their true purpose? Inevitably, they destroy themselves.

And why is he so violent to Axel anyways? In his own words, when you lose your true purpose, it makes you inevitably destroy yourself. So why is he trying to destroy Axel and not himself?

"And we still haven’t found out where Axel went?” said Xaldin.

Saïx scowled with displeasure at the name.

It would make sense if Isa’s heart lost all sense of purpose and wanted to fade away after Axel left. And it would make sense if Saïx was not aware that it was Isa’s heart making him feel suicidal.

“What are you doing here?” The Claymore materialized in Saïx’s hand. “Foul traitor—”

“No, Saïx,” said Xigbar, glaring hard at Axel.

“What have you come for?” With rage barely contained under every word, Saïx stalked toward Axel.

It would make sense if Saïx felt Isa’s despair and took it out on Axel in a psychotic rage. He was so unhinged, even Xigbar had to stop him from attacking Axel.

Riku: Quit while you can.

Sora: No. Not without Kairi.

Riku: The darkness will destroy you.

Sora: You’re wrong, Riku. The darkness may destroy my body, but it can’t touch my heart. My heart will stay with my friends. It’ll never die!

Riku: Really… Well, we’ll just see about that!

KH1 Riku also tried to kill Sora when he was consumed with darkness. Goofy shields him from Riku’s attack. It didn’t matter that Riku had the Keyblade. Donald and Goofy chose to stay with Sora because he was on the right side and Riku was not.

Lea: Well, then, you blew it! Wise up already and just quit.

Um, its not that simple, Lea. You see when you have Xehanort’s heart implanted, you are consumed by it. You become one of his 12 selves. Your true heart and consciousness has to be put to sleep in order for Xehanort to turn you into a vessel.

Mickey: There’s something real strong that binds us to each other. Even in the darkness, you can reach him. All you gotta do is follow that connection!

Goofy: Gee, we’re all connected to Sora.

Donald: You said it!

Lea: And if the darkness gets ya, I promise I’ll bail you out. “Dark Rescue” is my middle name.

Riku: Guys, thank you. Sora and I will be back soon.

You should know this already after they almost made Sora the 13th vessel and Riku had to go save his heart afterwards. They didn’t ask Sora to fill out a résumé before they hired him as a vessel. Presumably they didn’t ask Isa, either. You can’t just quit. You couldn’t even leave the original Organization willingly. You’d be turned into a Dusk. But Lea thinks he should just quit…

Lea: Would you get lost? I’ll clobber you tomorrow.

Saïx: I expect no less.

This is how you act after you find out your best friend has been turned into Xehanort’s vessel? You want him to get lost and can’t wait to clobber him?

Sora: What? You… You’re not Riku.

Riku: The Keyhole cannot be completed so long as the last princess of heart still sleeps.

Sora: The princess…? Kairi’s a princess?

Riku: Yes, and without her power, the Keyhole will remain incomplete. It is time she awakened.

Sora: Whoever you are, let Riku go! Give him back his heart!

Sora knew Riku wasn’t acting like his old self. And neither was Isa. Axel complained CONSTANTLY about how much he had changed. When Sora learned the truth, he wanted Xehanort to let his friend’s heart go.

Young Xehanort: To move through time, you must leave your body behind. Ansem first sent me on my way, and then placed himself here when the time was right. That was what set all these events in motion.

Sora: What are you saying? That he knew everything that would happen?

Young Xehanort: No, not everything. But remember, Ansem possessed Riku and saw his experiences in real time.

The reason Riku acted like a sociopath is because he was possessed. BBSV2 would have gone into more detail and made Riku more sympathetic by showing how Xehanort’s heart took control of him from the very start. That’s why in KH3D, they showed Young Xehanort reach out his hand to Sora, causing him to have a flashback to when Riku did it in KH1.

Riku was being influenced by Xehanort’s heart for the entirety of KH1. If Saïx was possessed, then Xehanort also saw his experiences in real time. That’s why he always knew what Axel and Saïx were planning and why he didn’t stop them. It provided him with too much valuable information.

Saïx: Why…so sad?

Lea: You let them reduce you to this?

Even though his friend was supposed to be possessed, Lea isn’t the slightest bit sympathetic. He’s disgusted at him for bringing it on himself. After he’s defeated, he turns his head and can’t even look at him.

Aerith: No wonder there are more and more Heartless everywhere. The only way to stop them is—

Sora: Seal the Keyhole, right?

Leon: Maybe. But no one knows what will happen once it’s sealed.

Sora: Well, we can’t just stay here. We have to do something. I’ve got a friend back there.

After Sora defeated the possessed Riku, he wanted to go back and rescue him from Xehanort’s clutches.

Saïx: Well, if I make it back…you won’t get it out of me a second time.

Lea: See you, Isa.

Saïx: See you, Lea.

After Isa is finally freed from Xehanort’s control, there is no sincerity to his confession of jealousy. No apology for trying to kill Lea. No heart-to-heart conversation about everything they went through as kids. Isa is just an asshole, telling Lea that he won’t hear an apology from him a second time. Then it’s just “see ya”. And they’re magically friends again.

It was Naminé’s drawing of Roxas and Axel, standing side by side. “You’re best friends,” she said.

Right. Those two had been friends—well, Axel believed they still were. Roxas was his only friend and his best. And Axel was the same for Roxas—probably.

Axel states multiple times that Roxas was his only friend. After everything that happened between them, Axel to stopped thinking of Isa as his friend.

On the sofa opposite him, Naminé spoke up instead. “Sora and Riku are best friends.” Axel’s eyes crinkled as he remembered his own best friend—the only friend he’d ever had, in fact.

But more than that. Roxas was the only friend he’d ever had. He considered that Isa was never his friend in the first place. That’s how badly Axel was hurt by his relationship with Saïx. That’s how betrayed he felt.

“…Riku…” Sora looked up, holding tight to his friend’s hand. “It’s Riku… Riku is here.” He knew that it was Riku’s hand he clasped. It was bigger than the one he’d held a thousand times before, but in his heart, Sora felt it.

A knot of something he could barely define swelled in his chest. Clinging to that hand, to Riku’s hand, Sora fell to his knees. “I was looking for you…!” Tears spilled over and flowed down his cheeks as he pressed Riku’s hand against his face.

How long had he been searching? How badly had he wanted to see Riku, to talk to him again? And Riku was here. Here at last. I found you. Finally. I missed you. I’ve missed you for so long…

They’d been separated on Destiny Island, then they ended up fighting, and then they’d gone through that door together from opposite sides…and he’d been searching, searching for Riku all the while.

“C’mon, Sora,” Riku chided him lightly. “Keep it together.”

Riku allowed himself to be locked behind the Door to Darkness, and he sacrificed his appearance to save Sora. When Sora and Riku finally reunite, Sora was overcome with emotion.

Riku: What I said back there…about thinking I was better at stuff than you…To tell you the truth, Sora… I was jealous of you.

Sora: What for?

Riku: I wished I could live life the way you do. Just following my heart.

Sora: Yeah, well, I’ve got my share of problems, too.

Riku: Like what?

Sora: Like…wanting to be like you.

Riku: Well, there is one advantage to being me… Something you could never imitate.

Sora: Really? What’s that?

Riku: Having you for a friend.

Sora: Then I guess…I’m okay the way I am. I’ve got something you could never imitate too.

Compare Lea and Isa’s final conversation to Sora and Riku’s reconciliation at the end of KH2. The latter have a genuine talk where they gain insight into each other’s feelings. There is forgiveness and mutual respect. They are able to empathize with each other and grow closer as a result. Lea and Isa were turned into a cheap knockoff of Sora and Riku from KH1.

Only they forgot to actually, ya know, redeem Isa and show that he was possessed like they did with Riku. And unlike Sora, Lea became less concerned with his friend’s well-being after finding out he was possessed. Based on canon, I don’t know why they were even friends to begin with. And why are they friends again now? They don’t get along, they don’t seem to like each other, and they don’t act like they care about each other at all. But now Subject X is going to come along and be part of a healthy trio and have a possible romantic subplot with Isa? Yikes.

#kh meta #kh #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts meta #kh lea #kh isa #kh axel #kh saix #kh riku #anti kh3

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