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alicanta77 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2: Don’t Look Back

Pairing: y/n x Haechan

Themes: angst, fluff, suspense(?)

Warnings: swearing, zombies, blood, violence, death, virus, anxiety, abusive family

Words: 11k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Finale

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I got inspiration for Post Mortem from my friend @2-cute-4-school and her story called ‘Evanescent’. She is an amazing writer and all of her work is incredible so please check her out if you haven't already! I would really recommend the story Hiraeth by her too if you’re Haechan biased and like angst. I honestly cannot thank her enough for letting me use Evanescent as a starting point for this series xx

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The apocalypse wasn't the kind you would see in movies. There were no ruins that used to be buildings, no shattered glass of the windows that used to make up skyscrapers and no fallen blocks of wood to provide a small bit of shade from the now burning sun. While the virus broke out slowly, the apocalypse happened so quickly that all that happened to the world was that it emptied. Houses were empty, skyscrapers were standing, their windows only now used to reflect the sun, everything remained in tact. That’s how quickly the world gave up.

It had been a week since you had arrived at Mark’s. Since then you had each been given rooms and become accustomed to the sheer size of his house. You also found out that he really wasn't lying when he said that they had a good security system. The electrified walls around the house are enough to keep out a hoard of the undead, multiple cameras surrounded the premises and were connected to alarms around the house which means that if any did break through you would know about it immediately and, your favourite feature, was an escape hatch that took you a garage under the house, filled with fast cars and enough supplies to last a few months. His family really seemed to be prepared for everything, and, right now, that was just what you needed. But you knew that you couldn't stay here forever.

As brilliant as Mark’s house was, after 12 hours there, the entire group had sat together in the living room and unanimously decided that this would not be the place they would stay forever. While they had a large supply of food that would last a while, it would eventually run out and you would need to get more. The same applies for medicine and going to raid the stores seemed dangerous and the supplies you needed would probably be already taken. Renjun recommended finding a place with fields so that you could grow your own plants and even raise cattle. This would give you a fresh supply of meat and the plants could be used for food and medicine. However, the idea of where to find a protected field that you would need seemed to stump you all.

In the week you had been at Mark’s your ankle had also completely healed. You seemed to have no symptoms of HD, neither your veins or your eyes had changed colour and your personality had remained exactly the same. Everyone eventually came to the conclusion that, either the cut wasn't deep enough, or you couldn't get turned by scratch. You all prayed it was the latter.

You had noticed Chenle, Jisung and Mark being slightly anxious around you the past week, not that you could blame them. They had never properly met you before and everyone was watching nervously to see if you would turn. After you were fully healed, however, they all seemed to lighten up slightly and trust you a lot more. You were deep in thought about all of this when Haechan walked into your shared room.

‘Y/n?’ He asked.

‘Haechan!’ You laughed slightly. ‘God, you made me jump. What’s up?’

His face remained grim, any trace of his signature sunshine smile was long gone and he seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say.

‘What’s happened?’ You gently asked, walking up to him and guiding him to sit on your bed. He took a deep breath before speaking.

‘I want to go home.’ Your head shot up at his statement and you opened your mouth to say something, but he didn't let you. ‘Wait, just let me finish. I want to go home and get some things. I want to grab some clothes and possibly a photo and I want to see if I can find my sister. She wasn't infected with HD, meaning she is still human and I haven't had any contact with her and she's home alone with our Dad and I-’

You pulled Haechan into a small hug to calm him down. You could always tell when he was getting worked up over something because he would start to ramble on about the same point, repeating it in about four different ways. You began to hum the tune of ‘You are my sunshine’ to calm him down. It was a habit you had developed since he started hiding at yours from his father. You had always thought of him as your sunshine and revealed this to him when he arrived late one night, littered with new bruises. Your parents had quickly taken his younger sister into the bathroom, while you looked after Haechan, quietly telling him this when he whispered how he wasn't sure if he could take it anymore. It was in that moment that you both realised that nothing calmed Haechan down faster and more effectively than that song.

‘I think we should tell the rest of the guys.” You said while pulling out of the hug but still keeping a hold of his hand. ‘Some of them may want to see if their families are alive and have things to grab.’

He nodded and you both headed to go round everyone up. It didn't take as long as you had expected, due to the size of the house, but as large as the house was, it was easy to navigate. It was only three floors high, with the kitchen, living room, dining room and utility rooms on the ground floor, three of the bedrooms, two bathrooms and another living room on the first floor and one bedroom, bathroom and the security room on the top floor. Since you and Haechan were sharing the room on the top floor, you quickly checked the security room to see if you could find anyone, and luckily they were all in their room, so you quickly grabbed them and asked them to meet in the first floor living room.

Once everyone was gathered, it was time for Haechan to propose his idea.

---

‘What’s this meeting for?’ Mark asked, being the last one to walk in.

‘I’ve been thinking-’ Haechan began.

‘Oh that's never good.’ Renjun quickly interrupted, earning a glare from Haechan in return.

‘As I was saying, I’ve been thinking and, I really want to go home.’

Everyone immediately erupted into chaos about why this shouldn't happen, growing out any clarifications that Haechan was trying to make.

‘Wait, wait!’ Haechan raised his voice over the noise, silencing everyone. ‘Not forever. I’m not saying that I want to move back home I just need to visit it. I want to grab some clothes of mine and I want to see if I can find my sister. She wasn't infected with HD and if there’s a chance she is okay, I need to find her.’

This caused silence to fall over the room, confusion clearly sweeping through everyone's minds. You knew that both Jeno and Renjun knew how important Haechan’s sister was to him and you didn't doubt for a second that they would come with Haechan to get her back, but for the other four boys, you weren't so sure that they would be willing to take that risk. And you were right.

‘Is it going to be safe to go back to your house though?’ Jisung asked.

‘No it isn't.’ Chenle stated bluntly. ‘In fact it may be incredibly dangerous, there will be zombies there, it would be like us willingly walking into a trap.’

In the time you had spent with the boys you had learnt that Jisung and Chenle normally stuck to each other like glue, bouncing off each other’s energy well. Jisung was a lot more thoughtful about what he was going to say and when he was going to say it and seemed a bit more shy around new people, while Chenle would often tell you the truth even if you didn't ask for it. It was never meant in a malicious way and you could tell that the boy didn't have a mean bone in his body, he just found it easier to be honest, it was like honesty was his natural setting. Mark tried to keep everyone together, normally more logical than the younger two and would often take the time to think about all the possibilities before making any kind of decision. And finally, Jaemin, the person who you owed so much to, you had learnt absolutely loved affection. The way he would follow Jisung around to try and get a kiss often reminded you of Haechan. Jaemin was filled with a maturity that was way beyond his years and was often very good at coming up with solutions to problems. His wise nature yet loving personality made him an irreplaceable asset to the team.

‘Haechan, I don’t know what to say yet.’ Mark said, partially to himself. ‘On one hand, we can’t leave your sister and you needing things from your house makes sense, but on the other, it is really dangerous to leave right now. All of us would be risking our lives.’

Haechan didn't seem to know what to say. He had never thought that they would actually be against him trying to save his sister. Suddenly Jeno spoke up:

‘Well I’d be willing to risk my life. Haechan is a loyal friend and I have no doubt that he would do this for any of us if we asked, so I’m not letting him go alone.’

‘Nor am I.’ Renjun chimed in, standing up next to Haechan, as if in solidarity.

‘I’m going too.’ You nodded at Haechan. ‘You're not in this alone.’

Haechan nodded thankfully at you all before just looking at Jaemin for a second, as if pleading him to convince the others, but Jaemin just looked back with a confused look on his face, as if there was something he couldn't quite understand. Haechan then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him ad leaving you all behind.

An uncomfortable silence settled over you all as no one could seem to find a word to say. Then Mark finally spoke, breaking the tension.

‘Guys, I’m sorry but this is so risky, you barely got out of the school and that was only facing three zombies. Even then, y/n still got scratched. How can you expect us to willingly go into a badly infested neighbourhood to get a young girl we don’t know?’

Renjun looked at him in disbelief.

‘Because it’s his sister!’ He took a step closer to Mark very careful to make his point clear as day. ‘You don’t have to come with us, but we are going and we are going to come back with her because, god help me, he is not going to lose her and end up with his father as the only family he has left.’ After that he turned around and stormed out and back towards his shared room with Jeno. Jeno turned to you and you nodded before he quickly followed Renjun, hoping to calm him down. This left just you and the four boys, once again in an uncomfortable silence.

‘Oi.’ Chenle poked Jaemin in the side. ‘Why haven't you said anything?’

Jaemin looked up at you, and cocked his head slightly, his face still holding the slightly confused expression he had before.

‘There’s just something that I can’t get off my mind.’ He kept his eyes trained on you and uttered the sentence you hoped you would never have to hear, purely because of the questions that you knew came with it. ‘It’s about Haechan’s family.’

The other three boys turned to look at Jaemin in confusion, clearly not sharing what thought process was going through his mind. But Jaemin’s eyes never wavered from you, his unflinching stare making you fidget slightly. You didn't break eye contact however, instead asking:

‘What about it?’

‘You all knew. You all knew he would do anything to protect his sister. In fact, you knew that he would go as far as to walk to his house alone and search it from head to toe, when we all know the likelihood is that she isn't alive. I know that siblings are close, but no one else has expressed that desperation to see a family member alive. And then Renjun mentioned his father and how he didn't want him to be Haechan’s only relative and...’

He trailed off for a moment and you held your breath, praying that he would finish that sentence in the way you were expecting him to.

‘... and it made me remember his mother... and her accident.’

Your heart stopped, your eyes shut and, for a moment, the world stopped turning. A singular mention of that woman would bring Haechan to tears that took hours to stop, a night carved into a 8 year old’s memory that would scar for years to come. Even you had trouble thinking about her without getting choked up. Jaemin continued as the rest of the boys were watching in silence.

‘Y/n... I know it is not our place to pry, but there’s clearly something here that we don’t know about and- I don’t want to force you to tell us but, I think it might help us to understand a bit more.’

Mark, Chenle and Jisung all followed Jaemin’s eyes and turned to look at you. You hated to admit it, but you thought it was probably a good idea. So after a quick discussion in Renjun and Jeno’s shared room, where they both agreed that you should tell the others the truth about Haechan, you walked back into the living room. All the boys immediately turned their heads towards you as you opened the door.

‘They agree it’s probably best that you know.’ You told them as you made your way towards an armchair. Jaemin moved up on the sofa next to you that he and Jisung were sharing, allowing Chenle to sit down too, while Mark pulled up a chair to form a small circle.

‘Before I start, I need to tell you that Haechan doesn't know I’m telling you this. It’s a subject that even we can't bring up with him, so please don’t try to yourselves because it will only cause him pain and create divides in the group. None of that do we need or does he deserve. He suffered enough.’ You muttered the last part mostly to yourself, but loud enough that you knew the boys could hear it. The you took a deep breath, watching your hands in your lap, trying to keep yourself as calm as possible, before beginning.

‘Before I tell you about Haechan, you first need to know about another boy that we knew. He was called Donghyuck. He lived a street over from me when we were growing up, and we would see each other all the time so we easily became good friends. He fit seamlessly into the trio that was then just Renjun, Jeno and I, and soon we became a group of four. On the outside, he seemed to have a perfect family. Father, mother, son and daughter. Good jobs, nice house, shiny car, you couldn't find anything wrong with them. Until you looked past the front door. Behind that locked door every night was a sea of threats, drunken words and regretted actions, it was a living nightmare for Donghyuck. His father was an alcoholic. He couldn't go one day without some kind of drink and he was not a nice man at the best of times, let alone when drunk. But it only got worse. It got to the point where it was hard to tell which personality of his was worse, drunk or sober, and it even got to the point where it didn't matter. His mother tried as hard as she could to protect him and his sister from his father, but it was often hopeless. Donghyuck would watch as his mother took beating after beating from the man who swore to love and protect her for as long as he lived. Then, once he had knocked his wife unconscious, he would turn his attention to his children. Donghyuck had always taken after his mother. To anyone who knew both of them, it was as clear as day. he had the same morals, the same thought process, the same priorities and even the same laugh. So when he saw his mother doing everything to protect them, he would do anything to protect his little sister.’

You paused for a minute, looking up at the boys who were hanging on your every word. You knew it had been over ten years since the name Donghyuck was said in your presence, only his sister being able to call him that, so it wasn't surprising to you that the boys had no clue who you were talking about.

‘He would come in the next day, littered with bruises. He always claimed that he fell down the stairs. But hearing that every two weeks rings alarm bells, even in an eight year old’s head. Donghyuck was a terrible liar, it was something we also teased him about. So he knew that lying would get himself caught, and in turn get his father caught, and then break up the family that his mother would try so hard to protect. So he told the truth. He fell down the stairs. It just wasn’t for about a year before we learnt that his father was the reason he fell down the stairs, and that it was less of a fall and more of a throw.’

You paused again, swallowing the emotion that was crawling up your throat. You knew that you were no where near the emotional part of this story, and that was the fact that made you the most upset: the worst was still to come.

‘Jeno was the first to find out about Donghyuck at home. He told me and I told Renjun and before we knew it, Donghyuck had called us together and asked us not to say a word. We didn't really understand why, but he was our friend and he seemed desperate. So we kept quiet, and I wish we didn't.’

Your voice cracked slightly on the final word, giving the indication to the boys listening that something else happened. Chenle leaned forward, asking:

‘What happened? Did something happen to Donghyuck?’

You shook your head, tears beginning to grow in your eyes so you blinked them away. You couldn't afford to get emotional yet.

‘No, not to Donghyuck. Something happened to his mother.’

None of the boys said anything, all of the silently begging you to continue. You took a deep breath, steadying your voice before you continued.

‘Like I said earlier, Donghyuck’s father would always beat his mother unconscious before hurting him or his sister. But one night, she came to and woke up before his father had intended or realised. She woke up and saw him dragging Donghyuck by the scruff of his neck, while he screamed and kicked, begging for his sister to run. And when she did, out of the window and off to a safe house, his father screamed in rage and threw Donghyuck down the stairs. But he threw him hard and he barely touched the stairs before hitting the ground, leaving him there unmoving. All he could register was his mother screaming. She threw herself at her husband, fighting with everything she had in her to avenge and protect her son from further damage, but she was nothing compared to his physical strength, especially in her weakened state. Donghyuck watched as his father pushed his mother, forcing her to step backwards, but there was nothing for her to step onto. She went backwards down the stairs and banged her head on the corner of the bottom one. Donghyuck still couldn't move, in too much pain from his last fall. All he could do was watch while his mother bled and his father ran around staging the house to look like a robbery gone wrong. He then listened to his father ring the police, crying fake tears and asking for help. He watched as the paramedics took his mother and put her into a body bag, as they ripped away the one person who looked out for him, who protected him. In that moment, he changed. He vowed to never be unable to protect anyone again. He vowed to protect his sister, and to protect himself. And, finally, he changed his name. So that no one would call him the name that his father did the night he murdered his mother.’

‘What did he call himself?’ Jisung asked after a second of silence.

A new voice cut through the air, making you all turn around in your seats.

‘Haechan.’

Haechan stood in the doorway arms folded, as if he was trying to be tough and not care about what they thought of his story, but the fact that his eyes were glued to the floor, showed how terrified he was that these boys knew what he had been through. Finally he looked up at the boys sat around you and only when he did that did you all see the tear marks on his cheeks.

‘I called myself Haechan.’

Mark stood up, walked towards him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, forcing Haechan to look up at him.

‘We’re going to get your sister.’

---

You decided to leave the same day as it was still early morning and no one saw any point in wasting time. The longer you waited, the more likely Haechan’s sister was to be dead. Before leaving you had stopped in one of the utility rooms you hadn't been into yet. Mark opened the door and you were greeted with rows upon rows of weapons.

‘My family was keen on having all the means to stay safe.’ Mark explained as you walked into the room, a mixture of awe and fear clouding your mind. ‘This is my father’s room. I haven't been in here more than twice, but given the current situation, I thought these might come in useful. Can anyone here fire a gun?’

Chenle put his hand up, along with Jeno and yourself. When you were younger, Jeno’s parents had taken you two clay pigeon shooting and it had become something of a tradition between the two of you.

Mark nodded at you both.

‘Good. You three can grab these guns, the same one I have. If you have less experience, then grab a pistol. They have less bullets but they're easier to fire and the recoil won't injure you.’

Mark held out a larger gun for you and you grabbed it before switching on the safety and slinging it over your should using the strap. You also decided to grab a pistol when you saw that there were some left over.

‘Wow. Your dad had a lot of guns...’

Mark looked up at you from placing a knife in a holder on his arm.

‘Yeah... I always hated it. I guess I should be thankful now huh?’

He gave you a small smile, which you returned. You took a look at everyone, now that they were fully suited up. Jisung had one pistol, one longer knife and three grenades on him, Chenle had a long knife, one pistol and the larger gun that Mark had given him, Jeno had the same gun and two knives, Jaemin had two pistols and a grenade, Renjun was equipped with a pistol, two knives and a grenade, Mark had the same machine gun as you, a pistol and a knife, Haechan had two pistols, two knives and a grenade and you had the same larger gun as Mark did, one pistol and a knife. Jisung had also recommended for you all to put tape around your forearms as that was a place where zombies usually bite. While it felt very strange and restricted your movements slightly, you were glad the kid had watched so many movies that he came up with this idea.

Once you were all armed and ready, you headed out to the same cars that you drove in to get away from the school. The tanks were basically still full, so you didn't need to worry about running out of gas. You all got into the same cars as before and sat in the same seats. As Jeno and Mark began to drive off you couldn’t help but wonder if this was you subconsciously searching for any kind of stability and routine, now that your life had pretty much fallen apart in around one week.

When driving back to your street, you took the time to think about the conversation you had had with Haechan in the living room that morning. It was just after you had told the boys his story.

~flashback~

The rest of the boys had left the living room, some going to the bathrooms and some getting a quick bite to eat before you set off. You stood in front of Haechan, neither of you saying anything. You weren't really sure what to say, you had essentially just told his bigger secret to four almost strangers without his permission. You guessed the best thing to do would be to apologise.

‘I’m sorry.’ You lifted your eyes from the floor and looked directly at him. ‘It wasn't my place to tell them that at all and I should have made sure it was okay with you. I’m really sorry.’

When he still said nothing your feelings went out of control slightly, feeling as though you had massively betrayed his trust and he would never forgive you and then you would lose your best friend, the person you cared about more than anyone else you had ever met. With all these thoughts swirling around your head and your anxiety fuelling them to get more and more out of control, you couldn't help the tears that started to form in your eyes.

This made you frustrated with yourself. If either of you should be crying it should be Haechan, he just had to relive the day his mother died. Haechan was also crying, but the point was that you shouldn't be.

Haechan gently wiped away the tears that were gently falling down your cheeks. Then he proceeded to place a feather light kiss on your forehead before bringing you into a hug.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered ‘Renjun and Jeno came to get me as soon as they agreed with you, and I- I wanted to come in and stop you, that's why I was in the doorway, but when I heard you telling them what had happened I just listened. And I remembered my mum and all the good she did and how she always fought for the right things and then I heard you say how I take after her and-’

His words were caught in his throat as he choked on a sob. Haechan had always worn his heart on his sleeve and was never good at hiding his emotions. Talking about his mother was something that had always been impossible for him to do without breaking down. He couldn't even think of her without tearing up. But through the tears he continued, determined to say what was on his mind.

‘It reminded me of how much I need to fight to protect everyone. I know the likelihood is that my sister isn't alive, but I have to check. Mum always taught me how to be strong for others, and I’m going to do that, for her. I promised her I would protect those that I loved, those around me and I can't let her down, especially not now. So thank you, because hearing that story, as painful as it is, reminded me of my reason to fight.’

You kept silent, knowing that Haechan didn't need words right now but just silent reassurance that you were there and you loved him. So you pulled away from him slightly and looked him dead in the eyes before placing a kiss on his cheek. His lips curved into a small smile at your action, making you do it again. As his smile grew wider you soon found yourself peppering kissing across his entire face, forcing him to eventually let out the giggle that you loved so much. He pushed his forehead against yours and you breathed out a sigh of contentment. He pulled back for a second and you watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Did he want to kiss you? You did the same to him, and watched as he slowly leaned in, as if he was giving you time to pull away.

‘Yo, guys? Mark needs us downstairs... Oh sorry, didn't mean to interrupt but we need to get going soon.’ Chenle stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching as you and Haechan stepped out of your embrace and nodded in thanks. With that uncomfortable note he disappeared down the corridor so fast that there was still a cartoon smoke outline of his body hanging in the air.

‘So we should go?’ Haechan asked after a second of silence.

‘Yeah.’ You replied, a new kind of fear and determination taking over your body. ‘Let’s go home.’

~flashback ends~

You were replaying that moment in your head the entire car ride to your house. Haechan was going to kiss you. Your best friend wanted to kiss you, and you wanted him to. You weren't sure what this meant for your relationship either. You didn't know if it would make things more complicated or if everything would somehow fall into place. Or what if-

‘Y/n!’ Renjun’s voice cut through your whirlwind of thoughts. You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the boy who had been watching you for the past ten minutes. ‘Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it. You're overthinking.’

‘I have anxiety. There’s no other kind of thinking available.’ You sassed back, making Jeno chuckle and Haechan smirk slightly. The boys all knew that, even though you could be very logical and factual about physical situations, when it comes to anything to do with emotions or other people’s opinions, you start to drive yourself crazy with all the different possible scenarios you create in your head. You were always glad that you had them to tell you when to calm down though. So you nodded gratefully at Renjun who smiled back.

In the past week you had also noticed the boys being less teasing with you. Saying they were being more affectionate isn't the right word but, for example, normally Renjun would have rolled his eyes and jokingly complained about how much you need him and how lost you would be without him, but today he just smiled. You didn't mind it, you knew you were being less teasing with them. For you, it’s because of the fear. When you don’t know which moment is going to be your last, you want to treasure those around you so much more.

Suddenly the car pulled to a stop and Jeno’s voice uttered a sentence you had heard a million times before, but it had never had this effect on you.

‘We’re here.’

---

Mark had decided to stop the cars about a minute walk from your street, in a local abandoned park, one you actually used to come to all the time. It made sense, if there were zombies on the road you didn't want to draw masses of attention to yourself by driving into them in two large, black range rovers. You climbed out of the car, pulled then gun off your back and into your hands and looked around you.

Everyone looked nervous, you couldn't blame them. You were nervous too, but you also had a very strong reason for doing this. You began to walk, in silence, and luckily all you, Renjun, Haechan and Jeno lived close to each other. It made it much easier to get to all of your houses. You also learnt that Chenle lived a road over, so they thought they would go there to, and possibly grab some more weapons. Chenle didn't spend a lot of time talking about his family, he simply stated that both his parents were infected so they would be zombies now, and left it at that. It was clear he didn't want any further questions on it.

The streets were empty. You had thought that they would be full of zombies and you would have to fight your way through every step. But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for. Two doors away from Haechan’s house you suddenly heard a strange groaning. It was a noise you had only heard once before and it sent a chill right down your spine.

You all stopped immediately where you were and turned around very slowly. You could see a zombie down the other end of the street, and it didn't look like it had seen you yet. Taking this into consideration, Mark gestured for you to move forwards as quickly and quietly as you could. You had no idea how many more there were wandering around and would be alerted of your presence, were you to fire a gun.

With every step you took, it felt like Haechan’s house was getting further away, your heart pounding so hard you were sure that people could hear it. After what felt like forever, you had made it and Haechan quickly unlocked the door and you got inside.

You spared another look out of the window and saw more and more zombies starting to roam the streets, all of them being walking ghosts of their former selves.

The world became a walking ghost town.

You all tiptoed through the house, Haechan whispering out his sister’s name as loud as he dared. You spilt up slightly, with you and Mark following Haechan to his sister’s room and the others separating into two groups and focusing on seeing what they could get from him house.

As you reached the door to Haechan’s sister’s room, he reached up to push it open when Mark grabbed his hand.

‘Wait!’ He had a look of pure fear across his face.

‘What?’ Haechan stared him down, clearly not pleased that he was stopping him when he was this close to finding out.

‘Just, listen for a minute, I think I heard something.’

And Mark was right, he had heard something. He had heard the noise that none of you ever wanted to hear again. The low groan of a zombie.

That was it for Haechan, he burst open the door and, when he saw the sight in his little sister’s room, nearly crumbled on the spot.

His sister was lying on the floor crying in pain, while his zombified father was biting into her arm.

You and Mark seemed frozen at the sight in front of you. But Haechan didn't even stop to pull out his gun when he threw himself at his father. He pulled the older man off his younger sister and rolled on top of him, grabbing his knife and plunging it straight into his head.

You quickly ran to the little girl on the floor, pulling her head into you lap and stroking her hair as she cried in pain.

Mark ran over to Haechan, who had completely lost control at this point and was stabbing his father over and over again, wherever he could reach. Mark grabbed him by the arms and pulled him off him.

‘Haechan! Haechan, he’s dead. You did it, he’s dead.’ He shouted this right in his ear, somehow managing to shock Haechan back into the current situation.

Haechan’s eyes shot to his sister, currently lying on your legs and he ran towards her.

‘No...’ He whispered as the tears began to fall down his face. ‘Please, I can’t be too late, not again.’

He pulled the dying girl into his arms entirely, not caring about the blood that was getting on his clothes from her various wounds. He cradled the girl he had cared for his entire life, crying into her hair. Then she suddenly spoke. A quiet, yet determined voice that cut through the air like a knife.

‘Donghyuck?’ Her eyes opened slightly and, when she saw her brother in front of her, she smiled.

‘Hi sweetheart, I’m here.’ Haechan smiled back, his full of tears while hers was a smile of pure joy.

‘Good... now I don’t mind dying.’

Haechan’s smile disappeared at that.

‘No, no. You’re not going to die, we’re gonna take you back and patch you up. Don’t be stupid, you’re not going to die.’

‘Hyuckie, I don’t mind. You’re here now that’s all that matters. I knew you would come, you've always been my hero.’

‘But I came too late. I couldn't save you.’ At this point Haechan’s tears were overflowing, as were yours and even Mark’s.

‘But you already have. Every time you took hit from dad or told me to run to y/n’s, you saved me.’

‘Please... I can’t lose you too.’ He hugged her close again at that point, as the rest of the boys found their way to her room, following the noises from the previous attack. Upon seeing the scene in front of them, Jeno fell to his knees and Renjun leant down to comfort him, as the tears fell down both of their cheeks.

‘Don’t worry Hyuckie, I’ll be with Mum. I’m gonna get to see Mum again.’ Again, she looked Haechan directly in the eyes and smiled. There was no sadness in the smile, only pure hope and joy at the thought of seeing her long lost mother. ‘You can do this Hyuckie, you can be stronger than you think. You’re gonna be okay without me.’

‘But you were my drive, how can I keep going now?’

“You find something else. Someone else you care about like you’ve never cared before. Besides, I’m still going to be with you, and so is Mum. Hyuck, she’s so proud of you, you know?’

Haechan just looked at her as he continued to cry and she grimaced slightly in pain, the black veins spreading across her chest. It was clear she didn't have much time left.

‘Hyuck, can you promise me two things?’

‘Of course, anything.’

‘One, please make sure I see Mum. I don’t want to turn into him.’ Her eyes flickered towards their dead father a few meters away and, even though Haechan visibly flinched at his sister’s request to kill her, he still nodded.

‘And two?’ He asked, his voice at a whisper at this point.

‘Be Donghyuck again. Donghyuck was my hero, not Haechan, Donghyuck didn't run away from anything, he fought to protect me. Donghyuck is who came back for me today, please be him again, be my brother.’

Haechan seemed to be stunned into silence, but managed to nod.

‘Thank you.’ She whispered as her voice trailed off and she shut her eyes.

Haechan just sat there holding her and then pulled out his gun. No one said a word, all of you in complete silence, watching as he placed one final kiss on his sister’s head before he replaced his lips with the barrel of his gun, and pulled the trigger. She didn't move, having already been completely limp in his arms before.

Haechan dropped the gun and cried. He cried like you had never seen him cry before. His entire body moved with his sobs as he repeated the same sentence, over and over again, under his breath whilst rocking her back and forwards.

‘She’s with mum now.’

None of you moved, no one knowing what to say or do. You had all known that the likelihood of Haechan’s sister being alive was slim but none of you would have ever expected to be greeted with the sight you were. Not much time had passed before Renjun gently placed a hand on Haechan’s shoulder and spoke in a soft tone.

‘I’m really sorry but we have to go, we have four other houses to get to and the zombies outside must have heard the gunshot.’

Haechan nodded, understanding the situation but he still found it hard to let go of her. He stood up and carried his dead sister over to her bed in the corner of the room. He placed her under the covers, kissed her forehead and whispered a goodbye, as if he was tucking her in for the night. Then he turned around.

‘Haechan-’ Jeno started, but he was cut off.

‘Donghyuck.’ Haechan corrected him. Jeno didn't say anything, just let his friend finish. ‘She wanted me to be Donghyuck, so that’s who I’m going to be. Call me Donghyuck.’

Jeno smiled slightly at that. ‘Let’s go, Donghyuck.’

With that you all stood up and walked out of the room, Donghyuck closing the door behind him. On your way out of his house you stopped briefly at Donghyuck’s bedroom and he grabbed a few different clothes and also the three pictures he always kept in his wallet. One was of Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck and yourself, one was of him, his mother and his sister, and one was of just you and Donghyuck.

After grabbing these you all met at the front door and tried to figure out how you were going to split up for the next houses. Mark pointed out that it may be safer to travel in smaller groups of two or three so that you draw less attention to yourself and keep quieter in the houses. You still had four houses to go to, yours, Renjun’s, Jeno’s and Chenle’s.

‘Not mine.’ Jeno spoke suddenly, causing you all to turn and look at him in confusion.

‘Why not?’ Jisung asked.

‘Because all my family were infected with HD. I know that none of them are alive and I really don't want to see them like that if I can avoid it.’ Jeno avoided eye contact with all of you, clearly more upset about the previous events and this revelation than he was letting on.

Mark nodded and decided to split people up into groups.

“Right, ok then. Renjun, you take Jeno and Jisung to your house, I’ll go with Chenle and Haech- Donghyuck to Chenle’s house and y/n, you take Jaemin to yours. How does that sound?’

You all nodded in agreement, your house was closest so it made the most sense that you only had one person come with you. Less travel meant less danger. You spared a look at Donghyuck and saw him watching you with his eyebrows furrowed, a worried expression on his face. Before you all headed out again, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his kitchen.

‘Be careful, please? I don’t like that you only have one person with you for backup.’

‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Jaemin has saved my ass multiple times already and besides, I live closest to you, what's the worst that can happen?’

Donghyuck simply looked at you in disbelief.

‘Sorry...’ You mumbled remembering what he had just had to watch. ‘I guess the worst is pretty bad huh?’ Donghyuck cast his eyes to the floor, making you place a finger under his chin and tilt his head up so that he could look at you. ‘I’ll be careful, I promise.’ You hesitated for a second before leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. With that you turned away and walked back towards Jaemin.

The plan was to meet back at the cars in ten minutes exactly. You and Jaemin exited Donghyuck’s house and headed to yours, which was further down the same street. You walked as quickly as you could and, due to the zombies roaming the street in front of your house, you used the back door to enter. Once you were inside Jaemin quickly grabbed your wrist and spun you around, needing to ask you a question.

‘Wait! This may sound harsh but I need to ask, do you want to look for your parents, or do you want to just grab your stuff and go.’

You thought for a second before replying.

‘Just grab my things and go.’ Your voice shook slightly as you continued. ‘My mum was infected so she won't be alive and, let’s face it, the likelihood is that my dad won’t either. I’d rather not get distracted by false hope.’

Jaemin nodded, his grip on your wrist sliding down so that he squeezed your hand comfortingly before letting go. You quickly explained to him that your bedroom was the first door on the left once you were up the stairs, then you began to walk. You had never thought that walking through the house you grew up in would ever be so terrifying, but every little noise or movement made you jump and swirl you gun around towards it. Eventually you and Jaemin moved side by side, focusing on keeping each other safe no matter what.

You reached the stairs and began to climb them, you speed growing slightly. You weren't sure if zombies could climb stairs, you definitely couldn't picture it but you didn't want to take any risks. Once you reached the top, you turned into your room without wasting a second.

Luckily the house seemed to be completely empty, letting you grab some clothes and shove them into a backpack, while instructing Jaemin to grab somethings from the bathroom. Like Donghyuck, you also had some photos you wanted to take with you, one of your family, one of your group of four, and again, one of just you and Donghyuck. At a final glance you also grabbed your polaroid camera and film so that you could take some photos of your current group. You weren't sure why, you just wanted them. Jaemin arrived back with various things and together you shoved them in your backpacks, but you were both stopped when you heard that guttural groan that was becoming all too familiar.

You shared a frightened glance before listening to it again. Both of you agreed it seemed to come from the room next to yours. You stood up silently and grabbed your guns, switching off the safety as you moved out of your bedroom. You and Jaemin proceeded silently down the stairs where you were greeted with a zombie.

It was your father.

For a few seconds your dad’s zombified body just stared at you, his dull, grey, lifeless eyes boring into your own. Then he moved. He moved a speed which you had never seen before, letting out an inhuman screech while he did so. He landed on you and started biting anywhere he would reach. You pushed against him, pleading with you father to get off and let you go.

Then a bang rang out, stopping his movements. You felt something cold on your face and you dad fell off you to reveal Jaemin stood behind him with his pistol up, the tip still smoking. You brought a shaky hand up to your face and wiped your fingers against you forehead. When you brought them back down, you saw blood.

Your dad’s blood.

You choked on a sob, one that was so desperate to leave you that it almost couldn't. Then you broke down. Jaemin immediately found his way beside you and pulled you into his arms. You could feel him shaking from the fear of the past few moments, while he whispered:

‘I thought I was going to lose you.’

You suddenly felt something wet on you hair and realised that Jaemin was crying too. When you came to this realisation, you turned your body so that you could hug him back, knowing that he would need some comfort as well. This wasn't just you breaking down over your father, it was everything that the past week had thrown upon you. You had lost your entire life, your family, your home, the parents of your close friends who were like a second family. All you had left was your group of eight.

You weren't there for long, knowing that you both had to get back to the cars before your ten minutes were up. You stood up and stretched to a hand to Jaemin who took it gratefully. You kept holding him before you both headed out of the back door and towards the cars.

When you approached them, you saw that the other 6 boys were already there, so you and Jaemin jogged to catch up. Chenle noticed you both first, nudging Donghyuck who was nervously biting his nails. Donghyuck looked up and immediately moved towards you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

‘Oh thank god.’ He whispered, before pulling away and continuing in a normal voice. ‘We heard gun shots and-’ He noticed the blood on your face. ‘Are you okay?’

You nodded. ‘It’s not mine. And you were right Jisung.’ You lifted up your tape covered arm to show him the small dents in it. ‘Tape saved my life.’

Jeno walked forward, using his sleeve to pat and wipe what he could off. ‘Is it a zombie’s?’

You nodded, ‘My dad’s.’

A silence fell over the group as Renjun stepped forward to hug you. He had known your dad for as long as you could remember and you knew he was like a second father to him.

“I’m okay.’ You whispered. ‘Can we please leave here though?’

Renjun nodded as he pulled away. ‘Let’s go.’

With that you all piled into the cars and drove away from the street that once was home to you, but is now only home to the horrible memories created today.

---

It had been 18 hours since you had all gone back home. You had immediately taken a shower and washed off the blood and dirt from your body. In fact, everyone had had showers that night and gone to bed pretty quickly.

Donghyuck was still heartbroken about his sister. You heard him crying in his bed that night and you wasted no time in crawling into it with him. You wrapped him up in your arms and began to gently sing you are my sunshine. You had just made it past the first chorus before his tears had subsided and he thanked you. He told you that he wasn't going to cry about it much more than he already had. He didn't want it to be something that kept him back, no, instead it was fuel to the fire that was driving him forward. He had also finally avenged the death of his mother, allowing him to let her rest in peace and allowing himself to move on.

You were proud of him.

He also cried for your parents. The people who took his sister and him in every time they ran away to your house, which was very often. They respected his boundaries when asking questions about the injuries and often made excuses to invite them over for dinner without his father to give them time out of the house. He confessed that he felt he owed them so many thank yous that he will never be able to say. You reassured him that they knew how grateful he was and that they had loved him like he was their own. They had once told you that Donghyuck was like the son they had never had.

So you lay in bed together that night, humming comforting songs and mourning the losses of your families together.

By the next morning, you all had another meeting. All eight of you sat in the living room on the ground floor, the silence sitting heavily on all of your shoulders.

Mark, who, as the oldest, had become the sort of leader of your group, spoke first.

‘I know yesterday was tough on everyone, and that's why I think it’s best that we leave here as soon as possible.’

The prompted everyone to look up at him in surprise, but, before anyone could interrupt or ask questions, he continued.

‘We had already decided that we couldn't stay here forever and the longer we do, the more bad memories we are making of this place. I think we should leave while we can still remember this place as it used to be. When it was still our home.’

What Mark said actually made a lot of sense to you. When you arrived at the abandoned park, you thought of the times you, Renjun, Jeno and Haechan would spend on the swings. And the time Jeno had help you after you fell off the monkey bars, how the 7 year old boy had insisted on carrying you back to your house and stayed with you while you mum patched you up. You remembered how he had insisted on teaching you the trick of climbing above them instead. You really didn’t want that memory to be replace with a different one. So you voiced your agreement.

‘I think that's a good idea. But we need to actually figure out where we are going to go and how we are going to get there.’

‘I think we need some rules.’ Jaemin spoke up. ‘Things like, never go anywhere alone, and stuff like that.’

Mark nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. We’ll create those after we decide where to go.’

‘Is no one else thinking what I’m thinking? About the zombies?’ CHenle questioned, looking around at all of you.

‘What are you thinking?’ Jisung asked, all of you clearly having no clue what he was on about.

‘That what if it isn't just people who are currently infected. Zombies are the living dead right? So what if the disease mutates and those who are already dead, and have been for years, start living again?’ His question added a new level of danger to an already life threatening situation.

‘The second people start rising we’re really screwed. The dead outnumber the living one hundred to one.’ Renjun stated.

‘Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. No need to freak out over something that hasn't happened yet.’

Jaemin’s words made Jeno nod slightly, you only noticing because he was beside you. You nudged him gently with your arm and he turned his head to look at you.

‘Hey, you okay? You’re quieter than normal.’

‘Yeah I’m fine.’ He turned away from you and faced the rest of the group. ‘What about an army base?’

‘An army base?’ Jisung questioned.

‘Yeah. It seems like the place we’ve been talking about. I did a summer training course at one last year and they've got loads of fields that they used for training which we can use those for growing plants and raising cattle, they also have lockers filled with clothes we could wear and there will be left over weapons too. Not to mention that if we could get the security system back up and running, it would probably be the safest place on earth. Of course there will be some zombies there but I'm sure we could take them, I mean, what's the alternative?’ Jeno explained.

It seemed like the perfect solution, almost too good to be true. You knew it was likely to be very infected but Jeno’s question kept ringing around in your head: what’s the alternative?

‘Anyone got any objections to that?’ Mark asked the rest of you, to which you all shook your heads. ‘Great.’

After arguing for the next half and hour or so, you all came up with the 3 rules you agreed to live by from now on:

1: Never go anywhere alone

2: If you hear anything or see anything odd, find the rest of the group immediately

3: When running, no matter what, don’t look back

You had just finished deciding on these rules when a loud crash stopped your conversation.

‘What the hell was that?’ Jaemin stood up, while Mark ran to the front door. He was only gone for a few seconds before he shot back inside.

‘Get up! We have to go!’ He shouted, grabbing Jisung and pulling him up.

Jeno grabbed Chenle while asking ‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Zombies. They’ve got past the gate, I don’t know how it wasn't electrified. But-’

‘What about the cameras, the alarms?’ Renjun interrupted.

‘They rebooted themselves five minutes ago and aren't back online yet. They have scheduled update system that I don’t know how to override.’ Mark explained and he stood by the door of the living room. ‘The zombies outside are about to make it inside the house, we need to get to the escape hatch as fast as we can. Jeno what’s the address of the army base?’

Jeno shouted back some numbers and an area code that you didn't understand, focusing on the sound of groaning that was radiating through Mark’s house.

‘Wait! No I can’t leave, I need to get the photos. Also we need our weapons, we won’t last five minutes without them.’ Donghyuck reasoned, desperation creeping into his voice.

‘There’s cameras there, we can watch and wait for them to leave, then we’ll grab our things and go.’ Mark reassured him. ‘Right the coast is clear, give me five seconds then run straight for the hatch, and remember, don’t look back.’

You all nodded and repeated ‘don’t look back’, knowing that you would run faster. This wasn't about not getting seen, it was about getting there alive.

Mark opened the door and ran first, quickly punching in the code and then the rest of you sprinted. You staggered how you ran to prevent you all crowding the entrance, but when it was your turn, you ran like you never had before. You didn’t look back, but focused only on the gap in the floor with Chenle’s outstretched hand waiting for you. You grabbed it and quickly jumped into the room, ignoring the steps there and instead favouring speed. It wasn’t long before Renjun arrived and then Jaemin, the door closing behind him. All of you breathed a sigh of relief as Mark quickly locked the door before turning on the lights and starting up the cameras. However, Jaemin just stared at the door above him.

Jisung noticed this first. ‘What’s wrong?’ His voice was shaking, not that you could blame him.

‘I- I didn't shut the door behind me.’ Jaemin stuttered, panic lacing his voice. ‘I wasn’t last so I didn't shut it.’

You felt your blood run cold as you looked around your safe room and noticed one person missing.

‘Where’s Jeno?’

The cameras suddenly blinked to life and you saw the house in front of you.

Mark lifted a shaky finger to the screen that showed Jeno and Renjun’s room.

‘There.’

‘No...’ You heard Renjun whisper and he suddenly threw himself against the door that was separating you from the zombies crawling your home. Jaemin grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him back.

Donghyuck immediately made his way over to where Mark was, pressing the button labelled speaker, allowing him to say something through the speakers around the house. Mark quickly flipped the audio switch so that you could hear what Jeno’s reply was.

‘Lee Jeno! What are you doing? Get back here!’ You could hear the strain in his voice.

Jeno sat down on his bed and lowered his head. ‘I’m sorry Donghyuck. I can’t.’

Donghyuck couldn't understand. ‘What do you mean you can't? Yes you can, we’re going to unlock the door and you need to get in here where it’s safe.’

‘That’s just it!’ Jeno shouted. ‘It’s not safe.’

A sob escaped you as you clamped a hand over your mouth while Jeno continued, the rest of you shocked into silence.

‘I’m sorry, but the only way you are getting out of here is if these zombies are killed. Donghyuck was right, you can't leave without your things and you can't leave that room until these things are gone so...’ He paused his sentence while he hoisted his gun onto his shoulder. ‘I’ll get rid of them.’

You walked up to where Donghyuck was, holding down the button yourself.

‘Jeno please... Please don’t do this, come with us, we’ll be safe together.’

Renjun stood next to you, taking his turn to speak.

‘Jeno, please. We can’t lose you.’

Jeno stopped where he was. ‘And I can't lose any of you. So please, let me do this. I’m strong, I’ll be fine.’ His halfhearted attempt at a joke fell flat when the cameras picked up the eleven zombies that were moving quickly through the house. ‘I’ll be fine.’ He repeated, much quieter this time, thinking you couldn't hear him. He was wrong.

You watched hopelessly as Jeno left the room with his gun at the ready and stalked around the house looking for a zombie. By this point, Mark had taken over the speaker button and was telling him where about in the house each zombie was. Your heart was in your mouth while you watched one of your best friends face this alone.

Jeno had taken out six zombies so far, but the last five were all in the same room. And they seemed to move fast. It seemed that zombies all moved at different speeds, and Jeno had somehow left the five fastest to face all at once.

‘Jeno, you need to wait for us. There is a clear path from where we are now to the stairs, we can grab our guns and help you.’ Mark quickly said, trying to stop Jeno from taking them on all at once.

Jeno looked out of the window and shook his head. ‘There’s no time. More are coming and bullets aren't gonna kill them fast enough.’

Jaemin rushed forward and grabbed the speaker from Mark.

‘Jeno, don’t be stupid we are gonna help you. Now wait there!’

‘Okay, okay. But be quick.’ Jeno held up his hands in surrender.

Mark unlocked the door and the rest of you got ready to run back for the stairs. Jeno was behind the door to the kitchen which was on the opposite side to the stairs, meaning you would be able to attack that zombies from both sides. Mark was getting ready to push open the door when Jeno’s voice made you all stop.

“Hey, I love you guys. Never forget that. Thanks for putting up with me for ten years.’

None of you replied, not understanding why it sounded like he was saying goodbye when you were escaping in less than five minutes.

Mark pushed open the door and you all took off. Splitting up once you reached the first floor, you and Donghyuck carried on again up to your shared room. You reached it and grabbed the weapons and backpack from where they were lying on the floor.

When you had both got everything, you nodded at each other and prepared to head back downstairs. You spared a look out of the window and realised that Jeno was right. You didn't have a lot of time. There were zombies crawling the streets and many of them were headed for Mark’s house.

You and Donghyuck had just made it down the stairs to the first floor when a bang resonated through the house, so powerful that it shook the floor where you were standing.

Once it died away, there was pure silence. Even the zombies outside had stopped moaning.

‘What the hell was that?’ Donghyuck asked, looking at you with wide eyes.

The rest of the boys shot out of their room, Mark saying. ‘A grenade. That was a grenade.’

Your heart stopped as you all came to the same horrifying realisation.

Jeno.

---

The next few minutes were a blur. You all shot downstairs to find him, only to be greeted with the remains of the explosion. You couldn't find any sign of Jeno. The only thing Renjun found was the silver identity tab necklace that Jeno had worn since his training camp at the army the previous summer.

Finding that had confirmed your worst suspicions.

Jeno had blown himself up to save the rest of you.

Donghyuck froze, Renjun screamed and you collapsed. All three of you portraying grief in different ways. Donghyuck couldn't move at all. Jaemin actually had to slap him across the face and scream that they needed to go. The blast had attracted every zombie that was roaming the streets. Renjun just yelled. He cursed out everything that had happened. He screamed at the disease and at Jeno for being too brave and too loyal. He cursed his friend for just not letting himself be selfish for once and let them help. Mark and Jisung grabbed him by an arm each and pulled him towards the escape tunnel. You just fell to your knees. The boy who had protected you since the day you met him was dead. The boy who taught you tricks on a skateboard and how to do a cart wheel was dead. The boy who was so scared that you might fall off the monkey bars again that he taught you how to climb across them was dead. And you didn't even tell him goodbye.

Jaemin ran towards you, picking you up and carrying you towards the exit. All the while apologising but saying that you had to go. You vaguely recognised the cars you would be travelling in, different ones this time. Jaemin put you in the passenger seat and you just about registers Chenle and Donghyuck in the backseat through your tears. You could see Chenle crying. You knew that he had looked up to Jeno like the older brother he never had. You curled up into a ball and just sobbed.

And it was like that that you started the next step of your journey. With one less person than when you started.

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olicitysecretsanta · 5 years ago

Text

Hi @redpensandhoodies! this is my little gift for you.

I hope you enjoy this story. It takes place in 2008, during the holidays. It’s an AU, mostly fluff with a side of feelings.

For clarification: Oliver is 23, and Felicity 20.

Thanks for reading!

By @lucyyh

The words that I could never say

(Gonna come out anyway)

December 20, 2008.

He trips over the words for the thousandth time in the last fifteen minutes or so, and with a groan of frustration, Oliver closes the book and hits the kitchen counter with it.

The loud bang, amplified by the silent loft, makes him jump a little, and he stays still, his eyes fixed on the stairs leading to the second floor, listening intently for any sound that could alert him that Felicity woke up with the noise and is coming down the stairs.

He knows it is practically impossible, but Oliver’s nervousness has been steadily growing every passing hour since this morning.

He doesn’t know how he will survive tomorrow.

After a few minutes where he doesn’t move an inch, he relaxes a little, now sure that Felicity is still sleeping peacefully. He opens the book again, trying to go back to reading, but he can’t concentrate on the words. They mesh together forming just one big pile of letters that don’t make any sense, not anymore.

Standing up, he goes and grabs a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets and fills it with water from the faucet. He drinks a few sips, washes the glass and leaves it in the dish rack. Leaning on the counter, he looks around the loft, not knowing what to do. He’s too wound up to even consider going to bed now. He’ll just lay there, looking at the ceiling and panicking over everything he has planned for tomorrow.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he sighs and goes to sit on the sofa. Turning the tv on, he changes the channels for a minute, but he has no real interest in watching tv, so he just leaves it on and stares blankly at the wall behind the tv.

Logically, Oliver knows he has nothing to worry about. He is organizing this particular celebration for the first time, and he is bound to make mistakes. But the part of him that will do anything to make Felicity happy, wants every little detail to be perfect.

Hence why he is so stressed and frazzled.

“Hey,” her sleepy voice startles him, and he quickly turns towards the sound of her voice. She is standing at the foot of the stairs, rubbing her eyes to chase the sleep away. “It’s like three. You can’t sleep?”

He shakes his head in answer. “And you?”

“I had a stupid nightmare. For some reason there were kangaroos here in Starling, and they were just standing there, looking at me with their little, beady black eyes, waiting for me to move and attack me.” She shakes her head several times, as if she is chasing away the images of her dream.

“I will never understand why you are so scared of kangaroos.” She glares at him, and Oliver raises his hands in defeat, “they are cute!”

“They are not! They are big jerks who kick and punch you at the first opportunity they have.”

His lips turn up on a smile. “Felicity…”

“Do I have to show you the videos again?”

He groans, “Oh please don’t. I can’t watch anymore of those videos.” Felicity puts her hands on her hips and arches an eyebrow, waiting. He rolls his eyes, but dutifully says, “Kangaroos are evil, cunning little assholes and we hate them.”

Felicity nods satisfied and flops besides him on the sofa. She curls into his side, hugging his arm, her lips lightly touching his shoulder.

The intimate gesture makes a swarm of butterflies flutter wildly on his stomach. He is overwhelmed by his feelings for her and the strong urge of telling her once and for all that he is in love with her. But he can’t.

With a lump forming in his throat, he buries those feelings in the depths of his heart, too scared of ruining their friendship. Of losing her and watching her walk away from him for good.

She is too important for him. Oliver won’t jeopardize the place he has in her life, just because he couldn’t help but falling in love with her.

(He wonders if anyone who has ever met her has any chance of not loving her in some way.)

—-

He met Felicity over two years ago. He had flunked out of his second college a few months before, and his parents sent him to Boston hoping that if he was away from Starling and the lifestyle he had led until then, it would help him mature and with any luck, he would straighten out his life.

In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered. Oliver had a gift for getting himself in trouble, didn’t matter where he was or who he was with. The difference this time was that he wanted to change. He was tired of his playboy, trust fund baby façade. Of the careless boy who didn’t care about any one, who lived for the next party, or the next woman. Not one of those things (or those women) filled the void in his soul, that took away a part of his self-worth and identity every day.

He wanted to discover who he was and what he could achieve without his parents fixing all his screw-ups.

Boston provided a great opportunity to do just that.

It was easier said than done. He was applying himself on his classes, arriving on time and paying attention, but his parents had paid his way through high school, and now at college he realised he was behind in so many subjects that he was barely managing to keep up.

He had been close to giving up and accepting he was a failure.

His saving grace came in the form of a flyer, pinned on the notice board in the common room of his dorm building.

It was a list of students advertising their tutoring services for a variety of subjects. One particular name caught his attention. There was nothing special in her description. Just her contact info and a short list of the subjects she could help students with. It was just her name. In a list full with normal, typical names, her’s stuck out like a sore thumb.

He called her, later that day.

And that’s how he met Felicity.

At the beginning, Felicity was all business. She was there to help him, not to make small talk. She was never unkind or curt, but she didn’t treat him as if he was dumb either, so Oliver was okay with her requirements, even if he sometimes had to basically clench his mouth shut, so he didn’t blurt out any of the personal questions he was dying to ask her. (He had a lot.)

Oliver thought she was one of those people who just didn’t like to talk.

Boy was he wrong.

In their fifth session, she was explaining some things for his economics class, and while giving him an example, she said something about length and thickness, making a surprised laugh escaped his lips. She blushed hard and then started babbling, trying and failing epically to explain herself.

She stopped, eventually, embarrassment coloring her face. She told him then, the reason why she didn’t speak much was her tendency to babble. More than once, her ability to transform the most innocent sentences into innuendos as well as her rants, had driven away a student. There had been one or two that had gotten angry and said hurtful things that made her doubt if she should keep tutoring. So, Felicity told Oliver she understood if he chose to stop their lessons, and that she would happily recommend another tutor.

He had touched her shoulder, smiled and assured her he didn’t mind her babbles. He actually liked that she finally had talked about something other than math.

She furrowed her brow, told him that if she went off the rails he had to stop her. He agreed and she smiled, a big, beautiful smile that made his heart beat a little bit faster.

After that, they became friends.

Oliver discovered little by little, all the good traits of her character. Her strength, kindness, loyalty and honesty made her the object of his admiration and respect. The fact that she didn’t put up with his shit only strengthened their relationship. It was a nice change having someone who wasn’t scared of telling him when he screwed up, when he was being a jerk. It was even better having someone who supported him, and believed in him.

Along the way, he fell in love with her.

He can’t pinpoint the moment, he just knows it happened between studio sessions and quiet conversations over a cup of coffee. One day, Oliver realized his feelings for her had changed, and that was it. He never questioned it or tried to look for reasons why it happened.

He didn’t need to. Felicity always made things easy. Even falling in love with her.

——

“What are our plans for tomorrow?” her sleepy voice brings him back to the present, and he looks at the mess of blonde hair leaning on his shoulder.

“We could have brunch at one of the cafeterias close to the Starling Bay. After, I was thinking we could take Thea to the ice rink. She has been sending text after text badgering me about going there.”

“Well then, we must do what our little Queen requests.” She laughs at her lame joke, poking his ribs until she manages to make him chuckle. “And later?”

“You’ll light your Menorah, won’t you? We need to be back here before nightfall…and that is at like four.”

“I will, but later later? That won’t take more than one hour…are we planning to stay in?”

Oliver stiffens a little, suddenly at a loss of words. It’s ridiculous, how he can come up with a believable excuse, when he used to be so good at lying. It shouldn’t be this difficult when it is necessary if he wants to really surprise her tomorrow. “Movie night? I don’t feel like going out.”

Felicity looks at him suspiciously, making him squirm a little. He has never been able to hide anything from her and knows he will blurt out everything the moment she calls him out on his strange behavior.

He holds his breath, waiting for her to say something, praying she can’t see that he is about to freak out.

After a few seconds of intense staring, she sighs, rolls her eyes and shrugs. “Whatever you want. I will pick the movie though, because if I have to watch ‘Die Hard’ one more time, I will throw you out of the window, Oliver.”

“You can barely lift a box with a few books. I doubt you can throw me out of the window.”

“Hey!” She slaps his arm, but he barely lifts an eyebrow, “Ugh, your arms are crazy hard! Look at my poor hand, it’s all red!” She shakes her hand a little, murmuring about him and his ridiculously fit body, making him snort.

“Whatever. If I can’t throw you out of the window, I will hack your laptop and change your playlist to porcupine farts. And your cellphone ringtone.”

“No ‘Die Hard’ then, noted.” She nods happily, then turns her attention to the tv. “What are you watching?”

He looks at the tv, a little confused. “Nothing. I don’t even know why I turned it on.”

Felicity grabs the remote, turns off the tv. “Come on Oliver, let’s go to bed.” She stops, cringing at her words, “I mean, to our separate beds. I wasn’t implying we should share one…I’m not saying there’s something wrong with two friends sharing a bed! I wouldn’t be opposed-I, well, if we were in a situation where we have to share a bed…you don’t snore, I know that because I’ve watched you sleep…not creepily! You know that! It was that time when you passed out on the couch, while we were watching that horror movie, that was so lame, remember? I didn’t want to wake you, so you just slept through the rest of the movie and didn’t snore at all…yeah ok, there’s no way I can save this, I’ll just shut up now, yep.”

He laughs heartily, shaking his head. “Don’t worry ‘licity, I know what you meant. And you are right, we should go to sleep.”

They climb the stairs in silence, and he thinks that he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing a bed with her.

————-

December 21, 2008.

He’s weird.

No, that’s a lie. Oliver is a dork, sometimes a little bit of a jerk, a huge sap, but never weird. He is acting weirdly, that’s a better way of describing how he has been behaving since yesterday. He is jumpy, looks at his watch every two minutes, speaks on the phone with someone in hushed tones, and talked with Raisa when they went to pick up Thea at the mansion, which is not exactly unusual, but the fact that he jumped a foot when she interrupted them, it wasn’t normal at all. He had started stuttering an explanation, but Raisa looked at the ceiling and said something in Russian. Oliver shut up at once, blushing so hard that even his hair was red.

They are at the ice rink now. Thea’s been spinning and making all kinds of pirouettes on the ice, while Felicity is holding one of the fences, refusing to even move an inch. She already tried, but she is a klutz and fell on her butt four times before she decided she was going to stick to the border. So now she is stuck here, watching with envy as Thea skates with an elegance and easiness she won’t reach, not in this life, or the next.

Someone swooshes past her, close enough to graze her jacket. She squeaks, tripping over nothing, desperately trying and failing to grab the fence to avoid face planting on the floor.

Luckily for her, Oliver arrives just in time, grabbing her waist and helping her recover her balance.

“You okay?”

“Yes, thank you for saving my teeth.”

He chuckles, and she stares for a moment too long at his face. She can’t help it, Oliver is so gorgeous she is actually surprised she doesn’t look at his face all the time. Of course, other parts of Oliver are worthy to stare at, like his abs, and his legs, and his…

“Get a grip you dumbass,” she scolds herself.

“Are you sure you don’t want to skate? It’s not difficult. I can teach you, and I won’t let you fall.”

“Ugh no, I will probably manage to make us both fall on our butts, or worse, we will end up face first on the ice.” He rolls his eyes. “Help me get there.” She points at the ice rink exit. I will take off the skates and rest my butt.” Scrunching her nose, she adds, “Does that sound weird? Yeah, I think it does. Maybe. Anyway, It’s true. My butt needs rest because it’s hurting, and I think I might even have a few purples already.” Without letting go of her waist, Oliver gently steers her to the exit. “Maybe I shouldn’t sit, if my butt is already bruising, it will only hurt more…” A woman passes close to them and gives her a disgusted look, making her blush in embarrassment. “Ok, I will stop talking about my behind.”

Oliver doesn’t say anything, probably because he is trying so hard not to laugh at her, the jerk. Finally, they get to the exit, and Felicity starts to untie her skates right there, instead of sitting on one of the benches, like Oliver suggests. Once she is free of them, Felicity looks for a place to sit, and once she is satisfied that her butt doesn’t hurt when she sits, she stretches her toes, groaning in pleasure.

“Be nice and bring me my boots?” She bats her eyelashes at him, and Oliver complies. He is back soon and helps her put on her boots. She blushes a little, the brush of his fingers making her heart jump on her chest.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna try?” Felicity shakes her head. “We’ll be here for another hour, I don’t want you to get bored.”

“Just one hour?”

“Nightfall Felicity. And we have plans for movie night.”

“I know. Are you sure you don’t wanna go out? Grab some drinks? I feel like having a drink.”

“Yeah-” He scratches his head. “I have a few bottles of wine at the loft, we can drink them.”

“Okay…” He is acting weird again. “I was in the mood for dancing too, hit the club…”

He stutters a little, and jeez, what is wrong with him?

“I don’t dance Felicity…”

“Well, I can go on my own..”

“No!” he says forcefully, and then takes a deep breath, plastering a cheerful (super fake) smile on his face. “We can go to a club another day, okay? I really want to stay at home tonight.” Before she can reply, he changes the subject. “Are you sure you don’t wanna try again?”

She gives him an annoyed look, “I won’t. I’ll just watch you guys twirling around,doing triple axels.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly. “And I wanna call my mom. We haven’t spoken since Thursday, and I wanna know how she’s doing, wish her a Happy Hanukkah and all that,” she flippantly says, but Oliver’s expression tells her he knows she isn’t feeling very festive right now.

“Ok. If you need anything…”

“I’ll tell you, don’t worry.”

He gives her one last smile and goes back to the ice rink.

She watches Oliver and Thea for a few minutes, joking around and teasing each other. It’s amazing how good their relationship is, even with the almost ten years of difference between them. Oliver always talks about his sister, “his Speedy” as he calls her. He loves her so much, and it shows in everything he does for Thea.

Thea loves her brother too. She adores him and thinks her brother is the best. Even now, as a teenager, she still shows her brother how much she admires and loves him.

(It’s not to say that she doesn’t teases him all the time. She does. Thea is always looking for new ways of annoying her brother. It’s glorious.)

Everytime Felicity sees them interact, she wishes she had a sibling. Growing up with a mother who worked more than sixty hours a week, resulted in her being a lonely child, whose closest friend was a computer.

Shaking her head, she takes her phone out of her jacket pocket, and searches for her mother’s phone number. Her finger hovers over the call button, wondering if she should call her now or later. In the end, she switches off the screen, and pockets her cellphone. She’ll probably cry if she talks to her mom, and she thinks it’s better if she does in the safety of the loft, and not in an ice rink full of people.

“Not crying in front of strangers, that’s a good new year’s resolution,” she repeats as a mantra, over and over again.

Still, a few tears roll down her cheeks.

—-

Felicity had plans for the holidays. Plans that involved her mom, too much fried food, and maybe some tv show marathons.

For the Smoak women, Hanukkah has always been their most beloved celebration. When she was little, Donna always took time for celebrating, asking for days off at her jobs, and making sure that Felicity enjoyed the holidays, even if they never had much.

Once Felicity started high school, it was more complicated. Donna knew Felicity��s dream was attending MIT, and even if she got a full scholarship (as Felicity’s teachers assured her she would), her daughter was going to need money for all the things the scholarship didn’t cover. So Donna got a third job, started working over sixty hours a week, and all but said goodbye to any vacation time.

It meant, too, that she couldn’t always be at home for lighting their Menorah, or having dinner with Felicity.

When Felicity went to college, it was even more difficult.

The distance made it hard for Felicity to go home during winter break. Plane tickets weren’t cheap, and with Donna working so much, it was a waste of money for her to travel to Las Vegas, and spend her days in an empty apartment.

This year was going to be different.

At the beginning of the year, Donna got a raise in one of her jobs, and since Felicity’s work as a tutor allowed her to earn good money, her mom didn’t need to work herself to death.

With that in mind, Donna told Felicity that they could spend Hanukkah together. She was going to ask for vacation time, and Felicity had enough money saved for the plane tickets.

It was going to be their first Hanukkah together in years.

Of course, nothing went according to plan.

At the end of November, one of Donna’s aunts died. She went to Illinois for the funeral, and to support Rachel, Donna’s favorite cousin, a shy, nervous woman that had spent the last six or seven years taking care of her sick mother, with no help from her other three siblings.

She was only going to stay in Illinois for a week, but soon that week turned into two, and then into three. Rachel was a wreck, and the fights between the siblings increased when they found out their mother had gifted the house to Rachel, at least three years before she died. If it hadn’t been for Donna, they would have walked all over Rachel, bullying her into giving them the house. When they realised they wouldn’t achieve their goal, they left, screaming at Rachel that she was a bad sister.

Things had calmed down then, but Donna stayed so she could help Rachel sell the house, since the poor woman didn’t think she could stay there anymore. She was looking to start anew in Florida, where one of her few friends lived, far away from her horrible siblings.

And just like that, Felicity’s plans went down the drain.

She told Donna she could travel to Illinois and meet her there, but in the state things were, Donna didn’t think it was a good idea. She was sad they were going to miss another Hanukkah, but she thought it was her duty to help her cousin.

So Felicity resigned herself to spend another winter break in Boston, alone.

Until Oliver invited her to Starling City.

She hadn’t hesitated in accepting, spending time with Oliver was one of her favorite things to do, and visiting a city like Starling, where some of the most important technology companies in America have their headquarters, it was a dream come true. She would hopefully tour a few of those companies.

It would help her soothe her sadness too.

She had her reservations though. His parents didn’t like her much, not since she had blurted out something about Mr. Queen’s ‘assets’ when Oliver had introduced her during one of their rare visits to see their son (she was talking about technology, not…other things). The dinner invitation they had so kindly extended was withdrawn with an excuse of wanting to spend time with their son, and she was left feeling horrified at what had come out of her mouth, and wishing for the earth to open up and swallow her whole.

(Oliver had been furious with his parents. He had refused to go to dinner with them, even though she had tried to change his mind. She was equal parts upset that he didn’t see how that would only make his parents dislike her more and touched that he had her back.)

Anyway, Oliver assured her they wouldn’t stay at the mansion, and they would see his parents only during the annual holiday party, and maybe at Christmas dinner. He had told her then, about the loft he had purchased during summer break, how he thought it was time he left the mansion and look for his own space, away from his parents’ expectations and demands.

“And they agreed to buy you the loft?” She knew he didn’t have access to his trust fund until his 25th birthday.

“Of course not. Mom lost it. Well, as much as she can lose it…”

“Then how?”

“Grandpa Queen left money for his five grandchildren. We could have control over the money once we turned 21.” They were waiting for their take-out in a crowded BBB, sandwiched between the bar and a group of obnoxious teenagers. “It wasn’t much. He said it was mostly for us to have fun and enjoy life before our parents dumped a shit ton of obligations over us.”

“He said that?”

“Word by word. He made a video with the will. It was hilarious. He told my dad to calm the fuck down and pull the stick out of his ass.”

Felicity burst out laughing, but she quieted down when some people turned to look at her.

“You didn’t follow his advice.”

“How so?”

“Well, you said he didn’t leave you much, and instead of partying or travelling around the world, you bought a loft…”

“I still have money left. The loft cost me…1.5? He left me 10.”

Felicity gaped at him. For an insanely long time.

“HE LEFT YOU TEN MILLION DOLLARS!?”

All the people in the diner had looked at them, some amused, others annoyed at her loud voice.

Embarrassed, Oliver cleared his throat, and asked her, “Are you coming or what?”

And she had come. To Starling! She wasn’t talking about any other type of coming…

Oh google, not even in her stupid memories could she stop the innuendos.

——-

He was acting weirder.

When they dropped Thea at the mansion, Oliver had run to the kitchen, had another secret conversation with Raisa, another strange phone call, and then dragged her out of the mansion, completely ignoring the maid who told him his mother wanted to talk to him. She tried to slow him down, but he kept repeating they didn’t have time, even if she told him, grumpily, that they still have time before nightfall.

“I don’t wanna drive without daylight.”

“Is not even 3:30 p.m, Oliver.”

“Yeah but there’s traffic.”

She looked out of the window. “It doesn’t seem like we’ll get stuck in traffic. ”

No answer.

“Oliver?”

“Mmm?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you are hiding?”

He tries to smile, but instead his mouth curves in a grimace. ”I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve been tense all day. Every time I ask you something, you give me super crappy - even for you - explanations. You got all jumpy when I caught you talking with Raisa, and you run to another room every time your phone rings. The only possible conclusion is that you are hiding something.”

He purses his lips but doesn’t say a word.

“You are sooo hiding something, Oliver Queen!”

Again, silence.

“You know I hate mysteries!! They bug me. I will discover it and…”

“We are here.” She looks out of the window, and sure enough, they are entering the garage of the apartment complex.

Oliver parks the car but doesn’t unlock the doors. He looks at her, intensely, and she wonders what is going through his mind right now.

“I…it is a surprise. I’ve been planning it for a couple of weeks, that’s why I didn’t tell you. Please don’t be mad?”

There’s a mix of insecurity and hope in his eyes, one that makes her nod without saying a word. She has a lot of questions, but she doesn’t need to ask them. She’ll find out soon enough what this surprise is, and why he has been so nervous about it.

They get out of the car silently and ride the elevator in equal silence. She wants to reach out and squeeze his hand, give him some sort of reassurance that she won’t get upset, that whatever he did, she will love it.

For some strange reason, she can’t.

The elevator stops, the doors open, and they walk side-by-side to the loft. He stops for a moment before unlocking the door but doesn’t say anything.

Once the door is open, he motions for her to get in.

It’s dark inside, the dim lights of dusk barely illuminating the space. She looks at Oliver, who’s still standing at the door. He gives her a small smile and turns on the light.

“Baby!!”

The scream makes her turn around fast. Her heart pounding in her chest. Her mother is jumping up and down, in a tight pink dress and high silver stilettos. Tears spring to her eyes, and she barely has time to choke out an incredulous ‘Mom?’ before Donna engulfs her in a tight hug.

She cries then, big, fat joyful tears. Her mom is saying something, but she is too overwhelmed to understand her.

It takes her a few minutes to calm down and be able to talk.

“How? I-I thought…”

“I know darling, and I was planning to stay in Illinois until after the New Year. But he,” she points at Oliver, who’s still standing close to the door, “called me and offered his help. He arranged for someone to take care of all the paperwork and legal proceedings of selling the house, and helped Rachel settle in Florida. She’ll stay with her friend until she can get her own place.” Donna dries her tears with her fingers, smudging a little of her mascara. “Once Rachel was on her way, he bought me a plane ticket and told me he wanted it to be a surprise…” She opens her arms and screams, “Surprise!”

Felicity’s laughs reverberate on the walls. She hugs her mother and both of them jump a little until Donna stops and says between laughs that she’ll break an ankle if they keep jumping around.

Oliver clears his throat and takes a hesitant step in their direction.

“I take it you aren’t mad?” His lips curl in a small smile.

She shakes her head in answer, unable to give him a verbal response.

“Good.” He points in the direction of the big windows, “It is time already, isn’t it?”

There is a small table by the window, close to the door that leads to the balcony. On top of the table sits her Menorah, ready to be lit.

“Oliver…”

“Raisa made food.” She can see he is still nervous, “I was thinking on cooking myself, but as I wanted it to be a surprise, I asked for her help. That’s why we were having ‘secret conversations’.” There’s a pause, where he seems to think for a little while what he wants to say. “Are you happy?”

Her smile gets bigger, and she nods. “I am. Thank you, Oliver.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” He hesitates for a moment, and then in a whisper he adds, “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”

He is looking at her intensely, an open, vulnerable expression on his face. It hits her then, and she wonders how she never noticed before.

Bringing her mother, making sure they can celebrate Hanukkah together, and all the little things he has been doing to cheer her up was his way of telling her he loves her.

She realises then, that he has been telling her he loves her, for a really long time.

In that moment, all the fears that have kept her from confessing her feelings for him, disappear.

How can she be scared of loving him, when he loves her as intensely as she loves him?

She wants to tell him that she loves him. That she has loved him since the first time she saw him in the library and he asked her if she was willing to help him. That her love only grew as she got to know the kind of person he is. How his courage, kindness, generosity, and thoughtfulness makes him a better man than the one he thinks he is. The best man she has ever met.

She wants to tell him that and so much more.

But not now. She’ll tell him later, when they are alone.

She grabs his hand, and walks towards the Menorah, where her mother is already waiting for them.

She doesn’t let go of his hand while Donna lights the candle, or when she says the blessings.

She doesn’t plan on letting go for the rest of the night.

She hopes they won’t let each other go, ever.

—-00000—-

Finito.

—

Sorry for the lack of Tommy! he wouldn’t cooperate!

#arrow #olicity #olicity secret santa #goodbye olicity #submission

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luvleekaotix-imagines · 6 years ago

Text

Lucky (Reader x John Wick [-ish])

a/n: I accidentally vomited 2500+ words for something I didn’t think I’d vom for. Anyway, take this and tell me what you think! No spoilers for any of the movies. This just exists at some point in time. Who knows. https://youtu.be/gHAgXJhG4-o

So there you were, tied to a chair.

You could have gone over all the actions that lead you to this point, but there was no point. If you lived in your head 100% of the time, you wouldn’t have been a very successful—mercenary. You didn’t like to be called gun-for-hire or assassin because it didn’t encompass what you did. You did a little bit of everything.

Anyway—tied to chair. You wriggled your fingers to try and keep some feeling in them. You had to give it to your captors, sometimes people were dumb and didn’t think things through to keep you trapped. This time you were preeetty stuck.

“Why the fuck do you still look so relaxed?” The typical big buff dude was ordered to watch over you. The weird, antsy kind. You would have liked it better if he just paced around the room without saying anything, but he just had to run his dumb as fuck mouth.

You shrugged at his question. “I’m gonna be okay. I feel it in my jellies.” You smiled. Your instinct said that you’d be fine. When you were in life-threatening positions, something within you flared up and you used it fight viciously. But when you were calm, you knew something was going to happen in your favour. You were Lucky. You were known as Lucky for a reason.

Suddenly there were faint shouts, hints of chaos past the door. Oh, the timing. Beautiful! You looked the guard dead in the eye and grinned. He seemed spooked and with one last look at you, he turned to open the door and check what was happening outside—

—just to get a bullet right through his head and then another two in his chest for good measure. The guard fell to the ground with a loud thump, blood pooling around him. The door was only slightly opened, so you couldn’t see who had killed him, but it was kicked open before long.

Then you found yourself at the end of the gun that had killed the guard.

“Ah—” Your eyes widened as you recognised the wielder. “John!”

There was a pause before the gun was very carefully—partly—lowered. “Lucky.”

“Ohh, jackpot!” You wiggled in your chair in excitement. “Saved by the John Wick! My luck today, wow—hey, can you do me a solid and untie me? Please?”

You wondered if he would ever change, but you supposed he wouldn’t be John Wick if he changed so much you’d actually see or feel it. He was still dressed in a slick black suit, still gave you that suspicious once over with his dark gaze, still kept that gun trained on you as he stepped forward to cut the ropes that had kept you bound—though it was lowered fully when you were free.

You gave him a bright smile. “Thanks! I owe you.” There was no instinct to fight, but it still put you on edge to be in the presence of Baba Yaga. No one in the business would be foolish enough to let down their guard 100% around anyone in the business, let alone the John Wick. “So… Are you here for work?” Why else would he be in the building though? You gently massaged your wrists as you looked at the dead guard’s body. Something told you that he had something you needed.

John watched you walked past him and crouch down to rummage around the guard’s pockets. You were the same as always. He had no idea you were going to be in the building too. It was often problematic when two people in the business were working the same or similar jobs. In John’s experience, it would end up in a conflict of some kind.

You, however, were always a wild card. John had come up against you before, but out of all the assassins he’s had conflicts with before, you were one of the easiest to have a conflict with. Not because you weren’t threatening or weren’t capable, just because you were very honest. Many times you’ve walked away from a job and just waved your hands and admitted it wasn’t worth it. He could appreciate that honesty. Other times you were willing to off-handedly help out if it didn’t mean going out of your way.

He realised he hadn’t answered your question and replied with a simple, “Yeah.” There was more to it, but he didn’t have to explain it to you. What good would that be? It wasn’t any of your business.

“Thought so. Me too—but not a conflicting job.” You were still busy looking for whatever it was you were looking for, but then, “Oh! Lucky!” You suddenly stood up and held something out. A keycard. “This’ll make things a lot easier for me. Top floor?” You pointed upwards as if your question really needed any clarification. John nodded and you winked, “Easier for you too then.”

Since John was the one who was armed, he exited the room first. Or maybe he could sense you really couldn’t be bothered with the whole fighting thing. Out of the two of you, that was his schtick. When you stepped outside you looked around and your eyebrows shot up.

“Oh.” There were bodies everywhere. Not unexpected if John was involved, but still kind of eyebrow-raising. John didn’t seem phased because of course, he wasn’t. He gave you a glance and you gestured down the end of the hall to where the elevator to the top floor would be. “You didn’t come prepared this time?” You asked sceptically. Most of the time he had floor plans memorised.

“Not as prepared.” There was a slight hint of a Wick-esque joke in there. Even if he went into a job completely unprepared he had a better chance than his enemies. The touch of playfulness also put you at ease a little bit. Okay, he was willing to work with you or at least not fight you right now. Lucky~

The commotion John had made must have pulled all the guards by the elevator away as the two of you had no encounters down the hall. You swiped the keycard and entered the number for the top floor, praying it would work—and it did. “Nice! I really didn’t want to have to run upstairs today. This job isn’t paying me enough for stairs.”

There was silence as the two of you waited for the elevator, but then, “I should charge extra for stairs.” John’s quip was very quiet, but you wheezed out a laugh before there was a ding from the elevator doors—

And a group of lackeys marched out, catching the two of you off guard for a moment—or at least you were caught off guard; you dived to the ground to avoid the ensuing gunfire. John was quick to empty the rest of his clip into two men, putting them down permanently. Their bodies slumped next to you and one of their jackets opened to reveal a fresh clip of ammo.

You could see that John was just about to yeet his goddamn pistol and you shrieked at him. “Nodon’tdothat! Take this!” You tossed him the clip so he could reload and use the gun for it’s intended purpose. After a few more precise shots, the lackeys were dead.

You stood up and dusted yourself off. John did his careful observation thing and then entered the elevator with you. The doors closed, the elevator music started and the two of you stood in silence. The air was tense. You chewed on the inside of your lip and glanced at John from the corner of your eye. John could see how antsy you were and sighed very lightly which was pretty much telling you to speak your mind. Which you did.

“You still throw your fucking empty gun at people? Really?” The words came out in an incredulous rush, but then you held up your hands in a defensive gesture. “That’s all I had to say. That’s it.”

“Are you sure?” John raised a brow at you and dared you to continue, though it wasn’t in that ‘I’ll kill you if you open your mouth again’ kind of way. It was just the normal fun banter.

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence facing the elevator doors, tension gone. The doors chimed when you finally reached the top and they opened to wide office space because of course, it did. You’d love to see one messy as fuck office one time, but it seemed like open, shiny-tiled penthouse spaces were really in vogue. You know, the spaces with the one desk and throne-like chair and ceiling to floor windows? It was nothing you hadn’t seen before.

Your original plan was to empty out the office, make the head honcho leave his desk so you could take what you needed and leave, but after you got caught, that plan went out the window. John’s method of doing things wasn’t as stealthy as yours, but it would have to do in this case.

The head honcho was definitely still in his seat, as well as his personal bodyguard because of course there was someone there looking like a final boss, but that wasn’t a problem for you. That was a John Wick problem and he knew it. You eyed the room and found the door you needed. “I’m only here for some blueprints. Whatever else happens isn’t my business.” You stated quietly. You weren’t going to interfere no matter what and you were hoping that John would do the same.

John’s eyes never left his target. “Yeah.” He agreed. It was just one less problem if you were going to stay out of the way, so he was fine with it.

“Do your best, John.” You stepped back as the last boss looking fuck started to advance.

“Thanks, Lucky.” His tone of finality meant that that was where you were going to part ways.

When the fight started, you ducked away to the edges of the office and crept towards the door you needed to go through. The head honcho was too busy being a wimp to even care about what you were doing. John Wick always stole the show and that worked completely in your favour, to be honest. You hacked the electronic lock on the door—as planned—and went inside to do your thing. While the transfers were happening you sat quietly listening to sounds of an intense fight outside. You even checked your phone and some apps; there were a few hints of job listings you could take after this job.

With the transfer complete, you gathered your things and peeked outside just to witness John putting down the persistent guard. Nice. What wasn’t nice was the gun aimed at John while he was distracted. It looked like the head honcho had some guts after all. Without thinking too much, you reached into your boot to pull out one of your knives and threw it with absolute precision at the man’s wrist to force him to drop the gun.

There was a scream of pain and with John alerted to the danger, that was it. There was another dead body added to the list.

“You said you wouldn’t interfere.” It was a statement, but John wasn’t ungrateful at all. It was nice to have people help sometimes and you were one of those people he could mostly-trust not to use favours against him.

You looked around exaggeratedly. “Where did that knife come from? Wow, that’s like ultra lucky for you!” You did a 360 turn to really try and sell the idea that you had no idea that the knife came from your helping hand.

John stared at you, but then knelt down to pull the knife from the man’s wrist. As you approached, he wiped the knife on the man’s shirt and then offered it. “You know you shouldn’t brand your knives.” There was a stylish ‘lucky’ engraved into the blade.

Smartass! But you didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t want people claiming my useful shit as theirs, John.” You shot back before swiping the knife from him and sliding it back into your boot. Jerk. You couldn’t help the grin plastered on your face. John was impassive as always, but there was a warmth in his gaze.

The assassin turned to leave before you did. You thought to wait a bit so he could leave first. Maybe you could rifle through the office and find some other useful stuff in the meantime? But when he reached the elevator doors, John stopped and turned back to look at you in a silent question. Weren’t you coming?

You were sincerely surprised and kind of confused, but not when he carefully tilted his head towards the lift. He wanted you to follow. You realised he probably meant to help escort you safely out of the building in exchange for helping him earlier, even though you said you wouldn’t.

Not a moment later you were in the elevator on the way down with a beaming expression on your face. John looked professional as always, just a little more bloody and bruised than earlier. This would make you even. You supposed this was his way of making sure you couldn’t use anything against him. You could understand how it was more of a safety precaution more than something—friendly.

It was important not to misconstrue actions in this business. It was important to stay level-headed about everything to just stay alive. Then again, the knife flying out of your hand to save John wasn’t exactly a level-headed decision—you just kind of did it. However, it worked out in your favour. Lucky~

Leaving the building was a lot easier than entering it. The two of you pretty much just walked out. There weren’t any more bodies to throw at John Wick—at least for now. Maybe they’d use some people who were a little more expensive and therefore more skilled, but still just as useless.

You stood facing John in the quiet back alley. “Well, that was more fun than I anticipated.” You didn’t want to say thank you because it wasn’t appropriate, so you settled for that.

“You got lucky.” John bowed his head slightly and you did see a small smile then. You knew that having friends in this business wasn’t real, but this also wasn’t the first kind-of intimate moment you’ve had with John Wick. If friends were a thing, you wondered if maybe that’s what the two of you were. Maybe. “See you around.” He surprised you then by using your name instead of your callsign.

You watched him walk away leaving you to your own devices because he knew you would be okay. He always knew that you would be okay and that he really would see you around. Again and again.

Turning on your heel, you also left, still feeling pretty lucky.

#john wick #john wick x reader #aaaaaaaaa #thats what this is pretty much #someee sarcastic ass feelings

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toviitaffee · 5 years ago

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A Beginning of a New Life

Author’s notes : Chapter two of The Magical Orphanage AU! Have fun reading!

Summary : In a world of magic, fairies and dragons, misfortune find us at every step. So how, pray tell, are the lost and abandoned supposed to live when no one else will care for them? It’s quite simple really. They can head to the Brookden Orphanage, there they will be taken in with open arms.

Virgil finds himself in a tiny predicament when he wakes up on his first proper day at the Orphanage which leads the young boy to learn a few things about his new place of residence

Pairings : Implied romantic Remile, everything else will be platonic because THEY ARE CHILDREN BETWEEN 4 AND 7

Warnings : No warnings! Just fluff! Well. Mention of Orphanages.

Word count : 2,058

AO3 Link

Previous | Next

That night, the same day that he remembers meeting his new friends, Virgil didn’t find himself sleeping in the room he initially woke up in. He learned that it was Remy and Emile’s room and he was only there because both adults were too worried to have him anywhere else in the house. Instead, Virgil was sleeping in one of the four other rooms reserved specifically for the children at the orphanage. Patton referred to is as the younger boys’ room and all three of his new friends were also there along with three other boys Virgil hadn’t yet met. There were a lot of children there that Virgil had yet to meet. If he had to be honest, he was surprised that this place functioned as well as it seemed with only two adults. One of which claimed to be a disaster at taking care of children.

The point was, the next day, Virgil once again woke up in confusion as he woke up in an unfamiliar room. Sure, he was told about sleeping there over dinner the previous night but he hasn’t actually been in the room. He fell asleep in the common space that he, Logan, Patton and Roman have been occupying once again before it was bedtime. The only blessing was that their room was bright as soon as he woke up. Or bright enough at least. It seemed that it was still early morning, as some colours were much too dull for it to suggest the sun was fully past its rise. Despite the early hour, Virgil knew he would not go back to sleep again. He slept quite enough in the last day. Yet, he didn’t exactly know what to do with himself. Everyone else in the room seemed to be still sleeping and Virgil wasn’t about to wake anyone up just because he didn’t know what to do.

The boy ended up laying in his new bed for what seemed like hours. Still, not a soul in the room so much as stirred. Even the sun looked as if it hadn’t moved even an inch from the last time Virgil managed to get an idea as to where it is. This was taking too long. He couldn’t just stay in bed for much longer. No, the time would definitely go too slow for his liking. Besides, he really needed a drink. He’d been told that if he ever needed one, he should just go down to the kitchen and ask for one but would anyone else be awake to help with that? There was only one way to find out and that is exactly what Virgil did.

It was surprisingly easy to slide out of the bed, make his way to the door and slip out of the room with making as little noise as humanly possible. Virgil immediately decided that he liked how stealthy he was. The house was bright enough for the boy to make out most of the shapes and some of the colour but it was by no means bright. A small, anxious part of the boy’s brain screamed at Virgil to turn back to the bed, however he already made it this far, might as well go all the way.

Virgil’s quiet steps were a bit more hurried in the hallways of the house as he made his way down the stairs and in the direction of the kitchen. Still, no noise betrayed if anyone else in the house was also up and about. He made it to the door with no issues and took a deep breath before slowly pushing the heavy wood forward. At first, Virgil only poked his head through the gap to scan the kitchen for anything. The kitchen may have been empty but the door to the cellar was open. That meant that it was either foolishly left open the previous night or someone was in fact awake. The boy slid fully into the room and headed for the small table. He climbed up onto one of the chairs and decided to wait for someone to show up. It’s not like he knew where to get that drink anyway.

It wasn’t more than a few seconds when a quiet voice startled the young boy. “And what do we have here, hmm? One of the little kids up so early? Girl, you should still be napping upstairs,” the voice that Virgil recognised to be Remy’s spoke. Remy had a ‘peculiar diction’ as Logan said but Virgil didn’t really have any trouble understanding what the adult ment either way.

“I just woke up,” Virgil said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I guess I slept a lot yesterday so I didn’t need as much now. Can I have a drink, please?” The boy added for clarification, tagging on the request as more of an afterthought than anything else. Remy smiled at the child, messing up his already messy hair before busying himself with the cabinets as Virgil watched, small hands attempting to soothe the bird’s nest on his head into something that actually resembles human hair.

“Makes complete sense if you ask me,” Remy said, placing a mug filled with some water in front of Virgil while he himself leaned onto the table. “You slept well?” The man added after a while when the child had a chance to sip on the water enough to satisfy his thirst. The boy merely nodded, keeping his hands wrapped around his cup.

“That’s great. Now, I should probably like, explain the whole orphanage thing that me and Emile do here. So, I will do that but you hold off the questions until the end, you got me?” Remy asked, moving between the kitchen counter and back to the table. This time, he had a drink of his own. One that Virgil had no idea what it was. But the boy nodded regardless to show he understood the words and that he wouldn’t ask questions before Remy was finished telling the story.

“Great! So, the start huh? Well, first thing first, this ain’t a normal orphanage. Or, well. It is but it isn’t,” the man began with his explanations, almost already losing Virgil with the first sentence. “We work mostly like a normal orphanage but the kids that end up here usually have some sort of magical ability. Not many usual places for kids will take in young mages. They say it’s like, risky or something? I don’t know and don’t get them anyways. Either way, basically every kid here has magic. Except Logan, but the non mages all think his genius is too weird for it not to be magic related so he stays with us. He’s better off here than with those idiots across the town anyway. That’s simple enough to understand, yeah? Me and Emile just raise the magical kids to not wreck complete havoc with their powers,” Remy said, finishing with a deep breath and an eye roll that Virgil just managed to catch from behind the slightly lowered glasses.

“Does that mean that you and Mr. Emile also have magic?” Virgil said, voicing the first question that popped into his head. He had many despite the easily understandable concept that Remy described.

“Yeah we do! Someone with no magic would be useless at teaching something they don’t understand. We have to have magic to help the kids understand themselves, duh,” Remy answered with a half amused half deadpan voice. It was an odd combination of tones, something that Virgil didn’t know if anyone else but Remy could pull off.

“Well. If I’m here, does that mean I’m magic?” Virgil asked, tilting his head to the side as he stared down at the little bit of water that remained in his cup that was still held in between his hands.

“I don’t know, are you?” Remy replied, raising an eyebrow as he watched the young boy besides him. Virgil could only shrug. So much of his knowledge of himself was missing. It made him frustrated, so much so that he began to squeeze the cup as a subconscious action. His brows furrowed.

“I know that when others use magic it feels warm, like when Mr. Emile did when I first woke up or when Patton did when we were playing,” Virgil muttered, still focusing on the cup and the drink inside it. Remy hummed in response, taking a sip of his mysterious drink before he sighed in satisfaction.

“Well you probably came in contact with magic before then, as for Patton, the poor kid still needs to figure out how to control his magic without it bursting out. At least it’s harmless as long as its happy emotions and not… anything negative,” Remy mumbled. He seemed to be talking more to himself than Virgil at that point but the boy still heard every word. All that followed for the next couple of minutes was silence as Remy finished his drink and Virgil messed around a little with his mug without actually risking breaking it. The silence between the two was only lifted when two new figures appeared at the door.

“There you are Virge! Wow it’s so weird having another kid wake up before me. It’s usually just me up out of the kiddos at this hour. You’d think Logan would be an early riser too but no, he sleeps until later because he always stays up doing his scholar stuff that no one else really gets. Roman and the rest of the younger kids are always really tired after playing so they sleep a lot. And the older kids always sleep in as much as they can because they have to do all this learning about magic and all the mage professions and stuff! Say, do you want to help us make breakfast? I always help out but I’m sure Emile and Remy won’t mind another helping hand! Or two!” Patton jumped into conversation the second he saw Virgil in the kitchen. His hands were all over the place, talking just as much with the gestures as he did with his rushed and excited voice. The other person that walked in, Emile, simply smiled kindly at the two boys before moving off to talk to Remy about one thing or another. Whatever they were talking about, they did so quietly as to not let the children hear.

“Umm, I don’t think I usually wake up this early but I can’t really tell. And I’d love to help out, if I can,” Virgil replied with a small smile spreading onto his features. He could once again feel the excitement that wasn’t quite his and for the first time Virgil recognised that it was due to Patton. Or rather, Patton’s magic. The younger boy wasn’t quite sure of the full extent of Patton’s ability was but it seemed to be a kind of empathy ability. Something along the lines of sharing his own emotions with the people around him.

“Patton, I’m glad you’re excited to train a new kitchen staff member if he so chooses but please try and remember to keep your magic under control sweetheart, alright?” Emile said with a grin as he turned towards the two boys. “Now, how do pancakes sound for today’s breakfast?” The cheerful man added, kneeling in front of the boys as Remy was once again going through the cupboards before disappearing back into the cellar for some extra ingredients. The boys both nodded, each one with a smile gracing their youthful features.

And so the chaos in the kitchen began. Remy and Emile were monitoring the stove, knowing that the young boys, especially Virgil, could accidentally cause harm to themselves with it. Virgil and Patton were making sure there was enough batter to make enough pancakes for everyone. They were all covered in flour and small splatters of the gooey substance as a result of a small war that broke out on accident. Virgil was totally the winner of that one, remaining the cleanest while also having a surprisingly good aim for a four year old. After over an hour, the group of four was giggling over the finished pancakes, ready to serve them to the other children and start a new day. And for Virgil? Oh he was completely ready to begin a new life.

#ts sanders sides #sanders sides #sanders side fic #patton sanders #virgil sanders #emile sanders #remy sanders #fanfiction #fanfic writing #platonic lamp #tovii writes stuff #The Magical orphanage AU #this one has fluff

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n3rdlif343va · 7 years ago

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Okay. Get this. Good uncle Yuuri is planning the triplets' birthday party and hires magician! Victor. Victor chooses Yuuri as a participant even though it's a kid birthday party and he's supposed to choose a kid.

Okay. Get this. You sent me this amazing thought, and I decided to write a 2,000+ word fic on it. Because my self-control needs to be located by search party. I’m going to post the whole thing here and move it to Ao3 tomorrow when I feel less lazy :). Thank you for sharing this INSANELY INSPIRING idea with me and I hope you enjoy…. “Magic Man” :)

(It is long so there is a cut line! Definitely SFW!)

The ad had said that Victor the Great could entertainaudiences of all ages, that his tricks were beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, andthat he could convince even the most cynical people that magic was real.

What the ad didn’t say, was that Victor was absolutely themost beautiful man who had ever dared to exist on earth.

The lack of warning had certainly taken a toll on Yuuri’sheart, as he opened the front door to Yuuko’s house and came face-to-face with theman-god parading as a children’s party magician. The black top hat, tailedblack coat and bright red bow tie should have immediately elicited laughter.Instead, Yuuri felt his tongue swell two sizes in his mouth and steal away hisability to speak. Maybe that was Victor’s first trick, robbing Yuuri of all hissenses with the man’s magical out-of-this-world blue eyes and smile that litYuuri’s body on fire. Blushing and staring at his feet, Yuuri waved Victor intothe house and lead him to the back yard where the show would take place.

Victor followed the dark-haired man through a dining roomfilled with delicious looking food, through a kitchen that looked like a foodbomb got gone off, and out into a backyard that was chaotic with kid noise.Children ran in every direction, giggling and yelling “you’re it!” as theytagged their friends. On the outskirts of the yard, the adults stood in smallclumps of conversation, occasionally dodging a sprinting child. It was atypical kid party, and Victor grinned at the lively nature of his futureaudience.

“Um… here…” Yuuri stopped and pointed to the small platformof a wood deck. “I mean…” rubbing the back of his neck, Yuuri could feel theblush on his cheeks heating up as the blue eyes studied him, “you can set uphere.” Finally gaining an ounce of courage, Yuuri lifted his gaze to meetVictor’s.

“Are you Yuuri?” Stepping forward, Victor set his blackcases onto the deck. His slight invasion of Yuuri’s personal space wasintentional as Victor continued to smile at the adorable man.

Yuuri’s first email, inquiring about Victor’s availabilityfor the party, had been formal and inquisitive. Victor had responded backquickly, confirming that he would love to provide entertainment. It was Yuuri’ssecond response, with a cheeky question about Victor arriving by car or in apuff of smoke that had peaked Victor’s interest. It had been a silly joke, butVictor had played along, answering not only in jest, but also with a hint offlirting.

Nineteen emails had been exchanged over the course of twoweeks and Victor had been unable to sleep the night before the party, theanticipation of meeting his email partner keeping him awake with nervousenergy. The dark mop of hair, shy brown eyes, and flushing cheeks had to belongto Yuuri Katsuki, and Victor had been trying to come up with something cleverthroughout their short walk through the house. Instead of cleverness, he hadbarely managed to ask Yuuri to identify himself, and Victor was internallygroaning over his own failure.

Swallowing, Yuuri studied Victor’s face. “I am,” he said, gainingcourage he stuck out his hand, “uh, nice to meet you Victor the Great.” WhenVictor chuckled, Yuuri wanted to crawl inside of the piñata and let the kidsbeat his embarrassment out of him.

“You’ll watch the show, won’t you?” Victor slipped his handinto Yuuri’s, squeezing it slightly. “Maybe if you watch me closely, you’ll beable to figure out my tricks.” Leaning forward again, Victor winked at Yuuri.He prayed that he sounded flirty instead of creepy.

“UNCLE YUURI!! UNCLE YUURI!!!”

Getting tackled from behind by three squealing triplets,Yuuri fell forward into Victor’s arms. Freezing, Yuuri looked up andimmediately lost himself again in Victor’s eyes. Feeling his body shaken by theforce of three sets of hands, Yuuri snapped his attention back to his nieces. “Momsaid you have to help with the piñata while the magician sets up! Dad said youcan flirt later!” All three girls cackled at their joke as Yuuri’s face caughtfire.

Smile on his lips, Victor stepped up onto the wooden deckand bent to open his first case. “I’m ok with that plan,” throwing a wink overhis shoulder, Victor forced himself to concentrate on his props as a stammeringYuuri was dragged toward the line of screaming kids.

Yuuri was a distraction. Victor couldn’t stop analyzing howadorable his new crush looked with the triplets draped over his lap as all theparty guests watched the show. Although his tricks had gone off without ahitch, Victor could feel his concentration wavering every time Yuuri laughedalong with the children. Taking a deep breath, Victor decided to remedy thesituation immediately.

“I need a volunteer from the audience!” All of the children’shands were instantly in the air, punctuated with a chorus of “pick me! Pick me!”One of the birthday girls had managed to knock Yuuri’s glasses askew in theirexcitement, and Victor’s mind went blank as Yuuri pulled them off entirely. Itwas like looking at two different, but equally attractive, men and Victorwondered if Yuuri was somehow actually magic. Ignoring all fifteen wildlywaving children, Victor pointed directly at Yuuri and said “ah yes you, youngman in the blue shirt, how about you join me?”

The children made sounds of disappointment as the tripletsproceeded to push Yuuri up from the ground and shove him toward the stage.Their smirks in Victor’s direction left the magician wondering if he had gainedallies in his quest to woo Yuuri. Reaching out, Victor wrapped a hand aroundYuuri’s elbow and pulled him close. “Alright, my lovely assistant, I need youto cuff me.” At the back of the yard, Takeshi choked on his drink and Yuukopatted his back as he laughed through the pain.

“Do what?!” Yuuri exclaimed, pulling back to stare at Victorwith wide eyes. His mind had not gone to any decent place and Yuuri was goingto need immediate clarification as to the exact nature of Victor’s request.

Lifting a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, Victor dangledthem in front of Yuuri’s face. “Please secure both of these handcuffs to myright wrist. Can you do that for me, Yuuri?” Dropping the handcuffs into Yuuri’sopen palm, Victor let the playful smirk dance over his lips. “Make sure theyare nice and tight.” The request was made close to Yuuri’s ear as Victor dippeddown to whisper his request.

Yuuri’s fingers faltered for a second as he slid the metalcuffs into place. The skin on Victor’s wrist felt like warm silk and Yuuri hadto stop himself from grazing it purposely with his fingertips. Taking a shakybreath, Yuuri dropped his hands and peered up at Victor through his eyelashes. “Nowwhat?” A large part of him was curious about whatever Victor’s trick would be,while a smaller part of him was hoping it would involve Victor continuing tostay close to him.

“Now we hold hands!” Victor declared with a wave to theaudience as he wrapped his fingers around Yuuri’s. “And…” dropping a red clothover their joined hands, Victor took the opportunity to run his thumb overYuuri’s as they clasped hands disappeared from sight, “if you will all say themagic words!” Again, Victor waved to the audience and laughed as the kidschanted, “abracadabra alacazam!” Pinching the red cloth, Victor flung it away.

Staring down at their still linked fingers, Yuuri gaped asone of the cuffs had moved onto his wrist. “We’re handcuffed together!” Toemphasize the point, Yuuri dropped Victor’s hand and lifted his own wrist intothe air. Victor’s came with it, the metal cuffs tethering them together. Fromthe back of the yard, Takeshi yelled “yeahhhh boiii!” pumping a fist in the airuntil Yuuko smacked him.

“Silly me!” Patting all of his pockets, Victor pretended tolook worried. “It seems like I have forgotten the key! I guess you will have tostay locked to me forever, Yuuri.”

The mini instigators seated on the lawn began a taunting, “ohhhhhh”making Yuuri flush bright red. “I… there… maybe we can get out of it by magic?”It sounded lame, even to Yuuri, but he couldn’t stay attached to Victorforever. Not that the idea really sounded bad,but it was most certainly not practical. “Come on Victor, let’s end this.”Waving their joined wrists in the air, Yuuri couldn’t help but giggle as Victorlooked offended.

“You wound me, Yuuri!” Victor cried, dramatically droppinghis head to his chin. “How shall I ever recover?” Pretending to wail, Victorbit his lip as the children began to hysterically laugh.

One very astute little boy shouted above the laughter of theothers. “If you stay like that forever, how would you pee?!”

Catching Victor’s eye, Yuuri snorted out a laugh. “See, wecan’t pee, and that’s bad.” Letting the laughter overtake him, Yuuri shook hishead as Victor joined in.

Taking a deep breath, Victor tried to control himself. Showshadn’t been this fun in a very long time. “Alright, alright, I believe there isa bit of magic that can help us here, but…” glancing sideways at Yuuri, Victorcame up with a plan, “it is secret magic. So if you are less than ten yearsold, come gather really close and I will tell you all about it.” The childrenrushed Victor, who crouched down, but kept his arm elevated to leave Yuuristanding.

Hearing the words “this is what we have to do” float overthe sea of tiny heads, Yuuri decided it was better if he didn’t know. Looking tothe back of the yard, he rolled his eyes as Yuuko, Takeshi, and his best friendPhichit all gave him thumbs ups. When he felt his arm jostle, Yuuri refocusedas Victor returned to a standing position.

“Ok,” Victor winked at the kids, “what are the two things weneed to release these handcuffs?”

“MAGIC WORDS!” came the unison shout from the kids, who wereall bouncing excitedly on their toes.

“And what are those magic words?” Victor guided, taking astep closer to Yuuri and placing the cloth back over their hands.

“YUURI WILL YOU GO OUT WITH VICTOR!” They all shouted,collapsing in a fit of giggles.

Stealing a glance in Yuuri’s direction, Victor bit his lip.Those adorable cheeks were bright red again, but the shocked smile was allVictor needed to keep going with his plan. “What’s the second thing we need?”

“TRUE LOVE’S KISS!!” The kids shouted, so loudly all of theadults jumped.

Spinning to face Yuuri, Victor raised one eyebrow,registering the glimmer in Yuuri’s wide eyes. Leaning in, Victor pressed hislips briefly to Yuuri’s before pulling back to throw the red cloth off theirwrists again. Hanging in Victor’s hand were the set of unlocked cuffs.

The kids exploded with applause, chanting Victor’s nameuntil all of the parents rushed forward to quiet them down. As Yuuko usheredthem away to the tables to consume another round of sugar, Victor shruggedsheepishly toward Yuuri. “You don’t have to… you know… go… if you don’t want…”He was suddenly nervous and unable to look up from his own feet.

“And deny true love?” Somewhere between being shocked byVictor’s magic words and electrified by Victor’s brief kiss, Yuuri had foundhis words. “I wouldn’t do that.” Tugging on Victor’s bow tie, Yuuri encouragedVictor to look up. “How about I take you sightseeing tomorrow? Since you saidyou are new to town.”

Grinning, an impossible heart being formed by Victor’s lips,he nodded his acceptance. He felt alive in a way he hadn’t for a long time, andVictor couldn’t wait to see what else was in store.

“Dedushka!” The small dark-haired child in Victor’s laprolled his eyes. “You have told that story like one million times! I want tohear a new story about you and Ojiisan!!” Victor laughed, throwing his headback as he did so to look up at Yuuri. The beautiful cheeks were covered inwrinkles now, the mop of black hair was splattered with white, and the eyeswere certainly less shy, but his husband was still every bit as alluring as hehad been on that first day.

“Let me try,” Yuuri said, plucking the small boy from Victor’slap and settling down on the couch. “Let me tell you about the time yourDedushka and I attempted to take up ice skating…” Winking at his husband whowas still magically stunning after all these years, Yuuri began to weave a taleof their epic failure as ice skaters.

#yoi #fyeahyoi #victuuriwriters #victuuri #yuri on ice #magician victor #yuuri is cute #cuff me baby #I really hope you like this!

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myletterstosofia · 7 years ago

Text

HIS daughter’s rebellion

February 12th, 2018

Monday

Dear Sofia,

Sad;

Monday. Start of the week. The day started not-so-okay. Then, it turned bad. Soon, it became worse. And eventually, ended worst by the time I got on my bed that Monday night.

I couldn’t understand why. I just delivered a message to a church filled with young people the day prior. I couldn’t figure out the cause of my despondency. I couldn’t understand anything that I was going through. All I knew, was that I was sad. I was really sad. I felt lonely. My body was shaking and I just cried until I fell asleep. It wasn’t my first time, by the way. However, what happened that night was just weird.

During that dark moment, I called on to God many times and ask Him to save me. I thought it was because I sounded boastful on my response (SMS) to one of my new friends in church. It wasn’t! I called on to Him many times. I sent a message to two people that same night. First, was my small group leader. Then I sent a message to that new friend that says “Help” “Please pray for me.” I waited for their responses but I found no strength to go on. So, I put my phone in Airplane mode. I only saw their responses the next day.

The next day, I thought it’s going to be okay the moment I woke up. Well, I was. But only a bit better. The pain was still there but I thanked my leader and asked for forgiveness and also to that good friend of mine whom I sent the message “Help.” At work, it was a bit difficult but it didn’t feel as heavy as the previous day. Tuesday brought me some parts of the Truth. God impressed in my heart that I had to go through it. My first reaction was “Why?!” [Yes, with an exclamation point]. Then He reminded me of why He allowed certain things in the past to happen to me such as being an alcoholic and getting in a relationship with and having romantic feelings for women. They didn’t make sense while I was in those situations. But, He revealed them to me months and years after. He was going to use me to minister to people who faced and facing the same situation as mine. The Lord taught me I can never understand them if I didn’t go through it myself.

But wait!

It wasn’t God who cursed me and caused my trials in the past. Not then, not now, not ever. But because of my disobedience, God’s protecting hands were lifted and so the enemy’s control and power took over my life. I was actually the one who gave the demons the legal access to my life and soul. But just like how God overturned Joseph’s situations, He used my darkest moments for His glory. I didn’t just experience His miracles, He used and still uses me as a miracle to others.

So, why was I depressed last Monday and most of the days of that week?

Yes, it didn’t just happen last Monday. It was repeated on Wednesday and felt more painful on a Friday night. Everything was blurry. Nothing was making sense. At first. But my God is merciful and He hears the cry of His children. He didn’t make the pain disappear, that easily. And I thank Him for that because if He did, I won’t appreciate His love as much as I do now!

As I have mentioned, I let the enemy took control.

Did I audibly say to the devil take over? NO.

Did I perform witchcraft and talked to the devil? NO.

Did I commit sexual sin? NO.

Did I curse anyone? I don’t remember doing so that week (haha), NEVER.

Did I stop believing in Jesus? A big, fat NO!

I rebelled.

I didn’t go to some public places or to my local church and announced there my rebellion against God.

I disobeyed Him. And disobedience is rebellion.

Most Christians know that Obedience is better than sacrifice. (1 Samuel 15:22)

Okay let me explain, but first let me tell you, I didn’t stop reading the Bible, I didn’t stop learning about Jesus. I offered and tithed. I listened to preachings. I shared the Gospel. In short, I was a functioning member of the church. And God mercifully allowed me to do so. But there were struggles that I couldn’t shake. Sleepless nights, constant worrying of problems and even things that weren’t real (they were just in my head!), crying (sometimes without any reasons), sudden change of emotions (some might have called me bipolar, but I’m not according to my former psychiatrist), sudden thoughts of hurting someone, and suicidal thoughts haunted me strongly last week. I messaged a few people and talked to two sisters in Christ about my deep depression. They were big help. They were blessings to me. However, the pain was still there. It weakens when I focus on Jesus or when I recognize on His goodness. I also felt better in those days when I prayed to Him and sought the counsel of other believers. But, I wasn’t unshackled yet.

If I claim to have obeyed the Father, how come I was in rebellion? How was I rebelling against Him? How did I know what caused my depression?

“I disobeyed Him. I was rebelling against God for more than two months!”

When I met one of my small group leaders (I have more than one leader from different church satellites), I knew from the first time we talked that she had an issue that needs to be addressed because she shared it with me. Well, she confessed it to me. I remembered feeling bothered about it. But I didn’t remember if the Holy Spirit was telling me something about it. Why I couldn’t remember? Believe it or not, I chose to forget about it. How callous my heart is! I didn’t listen to God’s warning. I chose to delay in telling my leader about what God has been impressing in my heart. Why? Because that issue is a sin. She confessed it to me and she told me that she already told her leader. But our pastor doesn’t have any idea about it. And what God was impressing in my heart was, someone needs to tell her to do the right thing. She needs to confess it to our pastor. But more than that, she needs to expose her sin, which is hidden in the dark, to the light. God impressed in my heart many times that sins hidden in the dark will be used against the person unless he/she exposes it to the light. Thus, giving the enemy no power to use those hidden sins against the person.

Why didn’t I do it? Because I didn’t care about her? Because I thought it was her decision to make? Because I didn’t have anything to do with her life and decisions? No, no and no.

It was because I believed I know what’s good for her. WHO AM I?! (When I think about it, I really feel embarrassed and stupid!) I thought it’s better not to tell her when I’m with her or when we’re in the church and having a gathering. MY DISOBEDIENCE WAS AN INDICATION THAT I WAS THINKING HIGHLY OF MYSELF, THAT I KNEW WHAT WAS BETTER FOR MY LEADER. Worst is, it meant I KNEW BETTER than God. The one True God who gave me wisdom. The very God I want to exalt in my life. The God I call my Father. The God who created the heavens and the earth. The great I AM.

The moment God told me how I was becoming a rebel to him, I became emotional. I was at work and it was yesterday, February 20th, Tuesday. I was reading the book by John Bevere entitled UNDERCOVER when God started telling and showing me my acts of defiance. I was so ashamed. I felt like I was standing in front of a crowd naked. And seriously, I could vividly see myself naked in front of a lot of people and being made fun of before and after I read the book. I don’t know why but it all made sense after the Lord gently rebuked me and saved me from further self-destruction. I was guilty. I was seeking retribution for the sins I’ve committed but God the Father is a merciful Father. He loves perfectly and unconditionally. I was a rebel and He embraced me when I called to Him and asked for His forgiveness. Admitting to HIm of all my faults and lawlessness, He ran to me and hugged me while I was still dirty.

Let me end this with Pastor John Bevere’s clarification…

AN IMPORTANT CLARIFICATION

Please understand this point: every time a person faces difficulty, sickness, problems, or hardships, disobedience is not necessarily the cause. Many suffer while living obedient lives.

...Their hardships may be trials from which God will receive glory. (pages 82-83)

From Sec. 2, Chapter 7 of UNDERCOVER by John Bevere

-L

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jackthebard · 7 years ago

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Ultimate Driver

(Art by @splickedylit)

Name: Fujiyama Yu

Age: 21

Height: 5’11”

Weight: 162

Blood Type: 0+

Hair: Blue (no, you shit, it’s not natural)

Eyes: Violet (yes, you fuck, they are natural)

Likes: Fast cars, thrumming engines, and really attractive people

Dislikes: People asking if certain aspects of her are natural or not

Before Tragedy: After showing an aptitude behind the wheel during her first visit to a go-kart track, Fujiyama Yu quickly proved that she couldn’t keep away from the smell of gasoline, nitrous, and burning rubber. It wasn’t long after (at the age of ten) that she stole her first car, and proceeded to lead at least fifteen Tokyo police cars on a mad chase through the streets, as well as through a subway and a shopping mall. Her skill behind the wheel quickly attracted the attention of the Kuzuryu clan. It wasn’t long after she served her juvie sentence that the Kuzuryu family took particular interest in her, and recruited her as a transporter. By the time she was fourteen, she had managed to evade not only the Tokyo police on multiple occasions, but also Interpol in a number of chases.

During Tragedy: When the Kuzuryu family succumbed to the will of the young heir Fuyuhiko and his support of the Despair Sisters, she was a little suspicious. It was when she found out that she was transporting a cargo of live women and children to be executed at the hands of Despair’s lackeys that she realized that she needed to sever ties. She released her “cargo” in a remote location, and still completed her delivery. Instead of a truckload of people, however, the Despair minions serving the Kuzuryu family found only a bloody envelope with the severed tip of her pinky inside. Yu Fujiyama’s parting gift to the Kuzuryu family was not the finger, however, but rather the salute she gave the soldiers. In keeping with Yakuza tradition, she had removed the joint as penance for disgracing her family. It wasn’t long afterwards that she started devoting her skills to the Future Foundation, saving lives rather than delivering them to be taken. After Tragedy: Bold in statements and brash in attitude, Yu isn’t afraid to swear or resort to more vulgar language. Despite this, she is willing to get close with her fellow classmates, on account of their willingness to work against the Despairs. Once she settled into Hope’s Peak academy, she was more than willing to enjoy what youth she had left and further develop her skills that had already been honed on the battlefield.

Notable Features: In addition to her unorthodox hair and eye colors, as well as her tremendous height for a woman, many people comment on her commendable… assets. People that do often wind up with at least a bloody nose or a bruised jaw. Furthermore, she has traditional yakuza tattoos running up and down both arms, yet she usually keeps these covered with a form-fitting tracksuit.

Interview 79.02 – Open

Interviewer: Yamada Jiro, Psy.D

Subject: Fujiyama Yu – “The Ultimate Driver”

Interview Date: May 4th, 8 AT (after tragedy)

Observation

[The subject is female, tall and buxom, yet she carries herself with a sense of aggression rarely seen from women in Japan. For this interview, she has worn a short-sleeved black t-shirt to show off the tattoos running up and down her arms. Her left arm is a mural of a traditionally-styled dragon entwining her arm against a mountain landscape. The head is not visible, disappearing up under the sleeve of her shirt. Her right arm is adorned the archer spirit Susanoo, firing arrows into the sea. She lands in the seat with a resonant “thwump”, her legs spread and her head leaning against her fist, propped up by her elbow on the arm of the chair.]

Discussion

Interviwer: Please speak your name and age for the record.

Yu: Fujiyama Yu. 21.

Interviewer: Thank you for coming in today. You were being scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy before the event known as “The Tragedy” occurred. Do you know why?

Yu: Because I’m fuckin’ good behind the wheel is why.

Interviewer: Can you please expand on that?

Yu: [She leans forward, gritting her teeth as if there was supposed to be a toothpick between them] You scouted me, now you’re askin’ me questions eight years after the fact. Un-fuckin’-believable.

Interviewer: I would care to remind you that you have already been accepted to Hope’s Peak. This interview is just a formality.

Yu: Yeah? Well, I ain’t never been much for formality. You want me to tell you why I’m good behind the wheel? Here’s why. [She starts counting off on her fingers] I managed to talk my way out of countless traffic checkpoints. I’ve evaded Tokyo PD a total of 27 times, Interpol a total of 8, and I only have one mark on my goddamn criminal record from the time I took a joyride at ten. So, if I do say so myself, I’m really fuckin’ good at what I do.

Interviewer: So you just willingly admit to committing a number a total of 35 counts of “evasion of police action”?

Yu: It’s not like you can prove it. I could just be talkin’ out my ass for all you know.

Interviewer: You know we wouldn’t be talking to you if you weren’t.

Yu: [She pauses visibly, then leans forward, her elbows on her knees, her fingers laced together. She presses her index fingers together and points at the interviewer] So what is this for.

Interviewer: Strictly protocol, I assure you. The contents of this video will never be made public, nor private for that matter. It’s something for the executives of the Future Foundation alone, and that is simply to assure them that they have made a good decision with regards to accepting you as a student.

Yu: I’ll hold you to that.

Interviewer: I beg your pardon?

Yu: If I find myself in trouble for any of the contents of the video that’s bein’ recorded right now, I’ll find you myself.

Interviewer: Is that a threat, Ms. Fujiyama?

Yu: It’s a promise.

Interviewer: Duly noted. At the very least, I can admire your conviction.

Yu: You think these tattoos are for show?

Interviewer: Actually, I would like to talk about those. Those are very traditional designs, associated with the Yakuza, are they not?

Yu: Since you assured me that this video was strictly confidential? Yeah. They’re Yakuza tattoos. The Kuzuryu clan picked me up when I was twelve.

Interviewer: I wasn’t aware they started so young.

Yu: You bet your ass they did! Shit, the more loyal enforcers they have, the better. [She leans back and barks out a laugh, reaching into a pocket. She withdraws a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it in her mouth. She lights it before she asks the question] Mind if I smoke?

Interviewer: [Slides the ashtray across the table] whatever makes you comfortable, Ms. Fujiyama.

Yu: Fuck me, cut it out with the Mr/Ms stuff! Just call me Yu. Please. It’s a lot less weird. Makes me feel fuckin’ old if you do that.

Interviewer: Very well, Yu. Do you have any idea why the Kuzuryu clan sought you out?

Yu: Aside from leading the Tokyo PD on a 3-hour chase through rush hour streets, followed by approximately seventeen police cars, three helicopters, and probably a tank at some point? All at the age of ten? Christ, man! Are you seriously this dense?

Interviewer: I’m asking you these questions for clarification. Why did you leave the Kuzuryu clan?

Yu: They got icky during the Tragedy.

Interviewer: Care to expand on that?

Yu: [She rests her forehead on her hands, her blue hair splaying about around her fingers. It almost looks like she’s praying. It’s a while before she speaks] I used to run normal shit for the clan. Hidden compartments full of drugs, guns, what have you. Always masked by the usual cargo just in case I got pulled over. Nine times out of ten, it would be meat, to confuse the dogs. But after the Tragedy… the boss started having me run some really weird shit.

Interviewer: Weird how?

Yu: Video equipment. Baking goods. Household chemicals and medicine. Stuff that wasn’t dangerous back then, but dangerous now. Anything could be dangerous when the Tragedy was going on. What with guys like Hanamura Teruteru and Koizumi Mahiru running around.

Interviewer: What did they have you running when you left?

Yu: Children. Their mothers, too.

Interviewer: Why was that the last straw?

Yu: I’d gotten a pretty fuckin’ good picture of how the clan was working now. Kidnap families, probably those of suspected Future Foundation. Kill them on camera. They always iced the kids first. Made their mothers watch. Anyway, I found out I was hauling folks instead of gear, then let them out halfway to the drop-off point.

Interviewer: And then?

Yu: I went to the drop-off point.

Interviewer: That was tantamount to suicide. Why did you go, even if you didn’t have cargo for them.

Yu: You’re making two mistakes there. The obvious one is that if I didn’t show up, they’d start lookin’ for the “cargo” along the planned route. Second, you’re assuming that the truck was empty.

Interviewer: Care to explain?

Yu: [She holds up her right hand. The first joint of her pinky is missing, severed at the knuckle.] I gave them my letter of resignation.

Interviewer: I don’t quite follow. What’s the significance of giving them your finger?

Yu: If a Yakuza betrays their clan in some way or another, and if it’s a minor transgression, they’re given a chance to atone. The price for atonement is a finger. Tradition says that someone should give up their pinky, and so I did.

Interviewer: I see. It wasn’t long after that that you started working for the Future Foundation, correct?

Yu: Yup. That’s it. Managed to move some damn good people and gear during that time. And I felt good about it too.

Interviewer: Well. That answers all my questions for the time being. Thank you

Yu: Much obliged.

Interviewer: So, I’d like to welcome you to Hope’s Peak Academy. Classes start late in August.

Yu: Seriously? [Despite her gruff demeanor, her face lights up at the notion]

Interviewer: Seriously. See you then.

Yu: Thank you! Thank you so much! [She gets up and leaves briskly, though cameras can see her thrusting her fists up into the air in a victorious stance when she believes that she’s out of sight.]

#79th class #dangan ronpa #dangit ronbur #i do the thing with the words #ngl this one is the bae #wasn't the original bae #but she's the bae now

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nerdmeetslife · 8 years ago

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Every Golden Light Hides a Shadow Ch 4-5

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in the fiction, all rights to the owners. Blah blah blah- all the usual stuffz.

Ch 4

It was a normal day, and though it was beautiful, there was a poor soul that had been akumatized. Who else but Ladybug and Chat Noir could take care of it? So of course the two rushed to the scene to fight against 'Bad Teachers', a college student who completely bombed a very important exam. He was too powerful though and Ladybug suffered from a small injury that only Chat Noir would have known about, since it happened beyond the view of outsiders. It now made sense why Adrien had gotten a little agitated when he saw the small cut on her cheek, of which she insisted was just a small accident that happened at home. Everyone else laughed at how clumsy she was, but Adrien seemed weird. He oddly didn't believe her story at all, and it was rare for him to be so serious.

"What do you think about Chat Noir?" Adrien asked not long after he questioned her about the small wound on her face. She gave a simple answer, where she stated that she didn't think much of Chat Noir. Nothing special about him impacted her. Adrien looked a little sad as he responded "Okay." and dejectedly trudged away. Later that day Jule had asked her what exactly Marinette liked about Adrien, aside from the normal answers every girl would give. This was a subject she was loudly happy to address. She eagerly listed all the assets about Adrien she could think of. How handsome, kind, and smart he was among other things. It was basically just a very whimsical babble. When she turned the corner there stood Adrien propped against the wall. She gasped and awkwardly said 'hi' as she prayed he didn't hear her glorifying him with her loud voice. She was relieved when he smiled and acted normal, despite seeming a little off. She thought it was probably an off day for him, given his earlier reaction to her tiny wound.

OOOOOOOOOO

It finally clicked in her mind, the thing that made Adrien break like this. He must have heard her that day, giving all the praise to Adrien. That combined with her utter disregard towards Chat Noir triggered something in him. She had heard quite a few of his tangents about how 'everyone loves Adrien.' and about how 'Adrien is fake just there to please people.' He often asked her why she loved 'Adrien' instead of him, and she was finally starting to grasp it. That maybe Chat Noir was more true to the way Adrien really was, as opposed to the way he portrayed himself in school. She wanted to convey to Adrien that her love wasn't for the 'fake Adrien.' She wanted to explain to him what her love really was. But would he break more if she were to do so?

"Adrien?" She muttered, afraid of what his response would be.

"Yes?" He purred back, and he leaned into the bars.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" She crawled towards him and reached her hand out.

"I do not recall." He did not reach for her hand, he just let her arm remained stretched out. She could tell he was ready to lash out about 'Adrien' again.

"I was really mad... because I thought you helped Chloe pick on me. But then you gave me an umbrella so I wouldn't get caught in the rain." She inched her hand a few centimeters closer to him and he finally intertwined his fingers with hers.

"I think I do remember that... The rain was really cold." He let out a laugh, not quite bitter, yet not happy.

"That was when I fell in love with you. I did not fall in love with a fake person, I fell in love with the person who helped me out on that rainy day." After that the room was filled with silence; he looked shocked and she was afraid to say anything beyond that. She wanted to slowly work her feelings into his heart, to return him to his proper self. Though she wanted it to, she knew the process wouldn't happen overnight. She would have to carefully calculate her words and wait for Tikki to return to her.

ch 5

Adrien had gotten a little less...disturbed. He was still trapped in his akumatized state, but Marinette could see glimpses of his true self leak through once in a while in his mannerisms. He went on less tangents about 'Adrien' and started to have some normal conversations with her. Normal for the situation that is. The window of hope opened a few days ago when she had told him how she fell in love with him, that was the key. All she could do beyond that was warm him up to her and wish for there to be some success. She ultimately had to wait for Tikki, but there were steps to the entire process of saving Adrien. She had to emotionally support him before her grand finale.

The time had finally arrived to act. Adrien was away for the night due to some family business. he didn't really tell her any of the details, but she knew one thing. It was a little too convenient to be a coincidence, Master Fu had most definitely created the situation. Wayazz floated in like a ghost with the most miraculous gift ever. He held a box that contained her beautiful spotted earrings.

"Let's break out now Ladybug!" The little turtle kwami was in great haste as he hurried ladybug to put her earrings in.

"I can't. Not yet." She couldn't abandon Adrien. In a strange way she had come to love him even more with the events that had unfolded. She had seen glimpses of his weaknesses and insecurities, and as a 'hero' it was her job to save him. Wayazz tried with all his might to persuade her but had to give up as distant footsteps could be heard. Adrien was expected to be away for a few more hours, but as life goes nothing ever goes according to plan. Marinette had to think fast, she couldn't put the earrings in her ears. Even if she hid them with her hair Adrien was quite perceptive. The footsteps were getting too close for comfort as she shoved the earrings into her tongue as she reasoned it was a much less visible place. Tikki didn't even have time to talk to Marinette before she was ordered to hide behind the toilet. The only thing Marinette heard from her was 'wake up!', which made no sense at all. She wished she could have gotten a clarification of the meaning of that phrase before she condemned her beloved kwami to a rather unpleasant destination. In about a minute Adrien stood in front of the cell and held his hand out, as was their newest ritual. She held his hand back and beckoned for his other one as well, it was very important that she held both his hands captive. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but she was able to talk normally. It almost didn't seem like she shoved two large earrings into her tongue. Now that she thought of it, she was lucky. It was actually very stupid to put them there and may have been better to just put them in her ears. She talked while looking towards the ground to make sure he had no visibility of the earrings in her mouth.

"You know Adrien, I love you. I love how you look out for your friends. How you put your life on the line for me so many times. I even love that you love me so much to hurt yourself by doing this to me. That is why, I will save you. Tikki! BUGS ON!" While she transformed she pulled Adrien into a deep kiss and jumped away. "Lucky Charm!" she shouted, not sure what she would get in such a situation. It was the most surprising object ever. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She had performed Lucky Charm properly, yet there were no results. Did that mean there was no helping her? She suddenly felt mortified and couldn't stop the tears from forming.

"Are you ready to wake up now, my lady?" She heard a sorrowful voice call her calmly. She looked up and saw Adrien's hair fade from black to gold. His eyes reverted back to their beautiful green hue. But most importantly, the anger and sadness that once consumed his expression had disappeared, though he still looked a bit sad behind his smile. The bars that separated them dissolved and she ran into his arms, her embrace happily retrieved in his strong hold. "Let's wake up now." he whispered one more time before everything around them turned black as she fell unconscious.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette #adrien #ladychat #adrien x marinette #fanfic #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfic

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ellenembee · 8 years ago

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The Revelation of All Things - 26. In which tugging tangled hurt leads to philosophical discussions

Read the full fic here on AO3.

Read on Tumblr (desktop)

Warning: Because I want to be as considerate as possible, super vague reference to dubious consent near the beginning of the chapter (just under the cut).

Cole sat in the corner and listened. Once most of the injured from Haven had passed on or recovered, he'd found the upper floors of the tavern a good place to find the hurt. As people drank, their brains loosened the tight hold on hurt and let it sing louder. He could find it better, though the helping became harder if the person drank too much.

He also wanted to be closer to Sera. She reeled in such circles, he thought he might never be able to catch hold and find a way to help, but being near her, he could see through the spinning hurt more clearly. Sometimes, she wanted to rip out the pain like she might an arrow festering in her flesh. Other times, she hugged it tight, shoving each cookie-shaped shard of pain deeper inside in an attempt to fill the emptiness. She made little sense to him. But few people made sense to him outside of the hurting and helping. He thought he might be able to help if she would trust in someone.

Along with Sera, the Iron Bull often sat downstairs nursing a drink, using loud laughter to cover up that he drank far less than anyone suspected. His mind presented a unique puzzle for Cole - bright flashes of memories that should cause hurt... would cause hurt if they'd happened to others. But a dark filter dulled the flashes, refused to allow the hurt to hurt. It should be good, but the gauze covering the brilliancy of memory was not of his own making. That made it bad. Cole couldn't understand it any better than that.

There in the tavern, he hovered on the fringes of a thousand thoughts. He heard the hurt call out like pin pricks in his ears, light touching the mind, fingers pinching at his skin, threads of memories wafting and waiting to be caught, pulled, untangled.

The door opened downstairs, and he sensed her - or rather the anchor - as she entered the tavern. Murmurs of respectful greeting followed her as she crossed through the tavern to the Iron Bull.

Eyes and thoughts also followed her, most honored, awed, but a few, bitter like gall, rose up to sully Cole's mind - savage, slave, knife-ear, bet I could make the little rabbit scream if I bent her over-

Cole cut off the thoughts to listen to her conversation with the Iron Bull. He mentioned drinking to dragons the following evening, unadulterated excitement and a bright flash of hacking, bloody joy bubbling through the hazy filter. She laughed. Cole liked her laugh - light and airy clouds, soft pillows of melody. She started up the steps.

He watched her walk around to Sera's door. The Inquisitor's hurt usually hid behind the brightness of the anchor, but today, he could hear her clearly. Unsure. Scared of what it could mean. Hopeful. Have to stop thinking of him. Need a distraction. From his perch, he heard Sera speaking a part of her hurt out loud.

"So, Inquisitor. It is Inquisitor, now, right? Remember that war we talked about stopping? Full of little baddies I can stick with little arrows? That's not a friggin' Archdemon, is it? Andraste, what'd I step in?"

"Andraste? Let me know what she says. I could use some clarification myself."

"It's swearing, not praying!" Sera exclaimed before adding in a small voice, "She doesn't answer. Not like she's supposed to." Cold. Quiet. Too quiet. Death... can't think about it. "I know what happened to you, or what everyone here thinks happened. It seems... I don't know what it seems." Scary magic. Demons ... could she become an abomination?

"The ancient thing trying to kill us seems pretty real."

"Don't get me started! Oh... wait. Too late, right? A magister who cracked the 'Black City'? It's a hazy dream, right? I mean, if it's real real, then the seat of the Maker? Real thing. A seat needs a butt, so the Maker? Real thing. Fairy stories about the start and end of the world? Real things. It's too far, innit?" What is real?

Evana's face screwed up into a perturbed moue. "You joined to help the 'little people' caught up in this. But do you believe... or not?"

"In Andraste? Of course!"

"But you doubt what you're seeing and hearing?"

"It can't be true true. Even fanatics don't want to be this right. Look, I have arrows. I can make this Coryphellus believe in those. Good enough?" Sera lowered her voice as if talking to herself. "Please be good enough."

"But... you like to have fun. The Inquisition seems like an odd fit. Why are you really here?"

"What do you mean?" Does she see through me? "To help people."

"It's just starting to sound like you're looking for something more."

"More? Pfffttt..." I'm transparent, like glass. She sees inside. "Okay, fine. There's talk, and... I want to see."

"See what?"

"I don't know! I just... I've got all this Chantry stuff in my head, and it makes sense, right? But it's... fuzzy. I want to see if it's all really real. I just don't know if I want to really know. So, I'm selfish. It's all for me. Count yourself lucky, I guess."

"It's OK to doubt, Sera. I... I don't even know what I believe anymore, so how would I know? Is there a Maker? Were the ancient Elven gods really gods, or were they mortal beings that we lesser creatures just came to worship? What does it even matter in the end, right? We're here. What's done is done."

Yes. That. Keep wading in that. "Now you're making sense! What I want is to get everything back to business as usual. A nice, simple system with simple problems. Helps me. Helps people. Helps you. In that order. For now."

"You're starting to not sound completely crazy."

"I know? Scary, innit? So bring 'em on. But first, food. I'm starving."

Cole watched Sera take the Inquisitor's hand and lead her downstairs for supper while plaintive thoughts swirled around her in flurried snowflakes. Sera is stronger than she looks. We need strength. Don't think of strong hands. Don't think of dying. Don't think of him...

She thought of the Commander while he thought of her. Cole furrowed his brow, uncomprehending. They could speak, but they didn't. Fear, confusion, self-denial choking back words that could mend the deep fissures of their minds. The Commander's thoughts were not so harsh as the other templars - his song softer, gentler - but old hurts clung to him like the wounds healed and reopened time and again by his demon torturers. Where the demons left off, he took up ripping himself open to pour in anger and pain. However, as time marched onward, and despite the twisted lyrium lady's picking, the wounds healed. Only hideous scars now remained, eating at his sleep, eroding his confidence in his worthiness, the new him shamed by the him from before. Now, without the silver song to seep forgetfulness between the memories, the nightmares came and tormented him. Afraid to fail her again. Death... dying... abomination... Afraid to lose her. Afraid the song will be too much. It whispers all the time now, even on good days. But she's coolness in heat. Water to slake the deepest thirst. Maker, I want her so badly.

"I should tell her. Untangle fear with wanted words." Cole whispered himself down to where the Inquisitor sat. "Hello."

"Oh! Cole, you scared me. What are you up to tonight?"

Cole trained ice blue eyes on violet blue. "He's afraid, too, but he wants it anyway. Dorian helped him see."

Sera screwed her face up, stuck her tongue out at Cole and then turned to the Inquisitor. "Um... what's it talking about?"

The Inquisitor turned red. "N-nothing. Cole, can we speak of this later, just the two of us?"

"Did I help?"

"I... well... yes, actually. But it's not something we should discuss just now. OK?"

Cole smiled and nodded. The tumult of her mind quieted. He'd helped.

"Do you want to sit with us, Cole?" she asked.

"Yes. I'd like to sit."

Cole sat down and looked directly at Sera. Sera groaned. No no no no!

"Why'd you let it sit with us?"

Embarrassment cut through the brightness. "Sera!"

"You don't have to be afraid, Sera," Cole tried to assure her. "I won't hurt you."

"Go away, weirdo."

"I won't stab you when you are looking somewhere else. I won't do that to your boots. Or that other thing to your arrows. I don't understand what that last thing is, but I won't do it either."

Sera turned to the Inquisitor, accusation in her head and on her face. "Why does it keep talking at me? You did this. Why doesn't it talk to you?"

"I thought the party wasn't until tomorrow," came a fourth voice. "Don't you know that no party is complete without me?"

Dorian took another chair and sat down next to Cole.

"Shite! I'm surrounded by demons and magic-y folk." Sera rounded on Cole. "And could you at least not stare past my eyes? Creepy that."

"But you aren't your eyes. You live behind them."

Sera made a face. "See...? That right there, creepy! I'm out, Inky. You're on your own with this lot."

Sera grabbed her food and ran away to hide from fear. Cole would have to find another way to help her. Later. Right now Dorian's hurt drew his attention, bright and shining and tangled.

"Dorian, you said I could ask you questions."

Dorian sighed. "It's true. I did say that. But give me a moment. I need to get a chessboard so the Inquisitor can practice."

Dorian came back shortly with a board and set it up for a game. They started off, and within a few minutes Dorian took four pieces from the Inquisitor. Cole didn't know the rules, so he watched the pieces move as hurt flowed in and around him, tethered to this person or that. No one said anything. Once Cole figured out the game, however, he began giving the frustrated Inquisitor pointers.

"You should put the pretty black horse there."

Dorian made a noise of disbelief. "Are you helping her from what you can see in my mind?"

"No, I see other things in your mind." Cole turned to the man, picking up one thread out of the tangled mess of his hurt. "Why are you so angry at your father? He wants to help and you know he does, but--"

"I see you didn't forget after all." Dorian sighed. "I'm not certain I can explain it to you."

"You love him, but you're angry. They mix together, boiling in the belly until it kneads into a knot."

"Sometimes... sometimes love isn't enough, Cole."

"Enough what? Please explain, Dorian."

Dorian sighed again as he moved another piece on the board. "I was rather hoping I had."

Cole saw the pain, and he spoke it, trying to pull it out and make it hurt less. "His face in the stands, watching as I pass the test. So proud there's tears in his eyes. Anything to make him happy. Anything. Why isn't that true anymore?"

"Cole, this... is not the sort of discussion to have in a tavern. Please drop it."

Distress welled up inside Cole. "I'm hurting you. Words winding, wanting, wounding. You said I could ask."

Dorian finally turned his attention from the board and looked at Cole. "I know I did. The things you ask are just... very personal."

"But it hurts you. I want to help, but it's all tangled with the love. I can't tug it loose without tearing it. You hold him so tightly. You let it keep hurting, because you think hurting is who you are. Why would you do that?"

Dorian looked at the Inquisitor. "Can you tell him to stop? Banish him back to the Fade or something!"

The Inquisitor smiled softly. A soothing smile. Cole wished she would always smile like that.

"Cole wants to help you," she countered. "Maybe you should let him."

Dorian sighed a third time, more heavily than before if possible. "Marvelous! Everyone's so helpful! Have you let him help you?"

Embarrassment again. Cole felt a little uncomfortable for some reason. He turned to Dorian and nodded.

"I told her about the Commander."

Dorian perked up immediately. "Oh? And what did you say about the Commander?"

The Inquisitor cut in. "Dorian, it's not appropriate..." "You just got a glimpse of my life that I didn't necessarily want to share. Turnabout is fair play."

The Inquisitor pressed her lips into a taut line, then nodded, face reddening further. "Cole simply said that the Commander was ... afraid... but he wanted it, too. And that you were the one to help him see."

Dorian cackled and smacked his leg, a joyful expression on his face. Cole liked the change from his previous sour mood. Perhaps Dorian liked to help, too, in his own way?

"Oh, did he now? It's good to know all that chess playing wasn't in vain. He is quite a formidable opponent, though. I believe we're tied on wins now."

She smiled, but turned to Cole. "Do you understand why it wasn't appropriate to say those things out loud, especially around other people, Cole?" Confusion clouded the words. Both their minds were more at ease since he'd shared the Commander's thoughts, but the Inquisitor told him it was bad.

"But I helped you both."

"But... when you do that, you rob people of the ability to say such things themselves. If Cullen were to say that to me now, it would have less impact because I already knew it. It would lessen a moment between us. Does that make more sense?"

"So..." Cole began slowly, "you'd rather hear the words from the person they belong to?"

"Yes. Most of the time. Unless that person has absolutely no intention of saying anything... but even then." She sighed, trying to shuffle thoughts around to make a picture for him. "You see, there's something that shifts in a person when they decide a thought should be shared, spoken out loud, with another person. It's significant. We all have a lot of thoughts that we'd never want shared because they are just thoughts we'd never dream of putting into action. But when I'm struggling with something, I have a choice to speak or not. When you speak our thoughts for us, it takes our choice away from us. It can be a good thing, but other times... I don't know. Dorian, you just had your relationship with your father laid before me. What are your thoughts?"

Dorian had been silent through the Inquisitor's speech, but his mind roiled. Pain and relief... darkness and light... Is the knowing better than the not knowing? Doubt pushed in and muddled already muddy thoughts.

"I think you're right if the relationship is between two people who are likely to find their way eventually. For people who have no intention of reconciling - or are separated by great distances - I think Cole's gift could give some comfort at the very least and might even lead to a better outcome for both parties. Even though I'd rather not discuss these things in public, I wouldn't necessarily mind discussing them privately."

Cole nodded, catching a glimmer of understanding from the Inquisitor's words. Evana. His friend. A strange shift rippled through him, and the idea took on weight, solidifying a small piece of the circling, nebulous, ever-changing world inside his head. A thought... his own thought. One with such weight now as he thought he might be able to hold on to it, place it on a shelf where he could come back to look at it. He turned to Evana with questioning tone.

"So... you're saying I shouldn't tell the Commander how often you think of his hands - large, warm, strong - touching your body?"

Evana instantly became distressed. "No, Cole! Do NOT tell him that! Creators! I... I thought you couldn't read me like the others?"

"If your hurt is bright enough, it shines louder," Cole explained. "And you think that a lot."

Tears streamed down Dorian's face from his laughter. "Oh, you are more than hopeless..." He stopped laughing, wiped his eyes and gave her a lecherous look. "They are very nice hands, though. Big and strong... and you know what they say about a man with big hands? I can tell you, anecdotally, it's true."

"Oh, shut it, Dorian," she said without much bite as she swatted at him playfully, her cheeks flaming. "Or I'll tell Cole to ask you more questions about your father."

Dorian quickly quieted down. "As you wish."

A random chuckle burst from Dorian here and there, but overall, the mage remained silent. They turned back to the game and continued to play until it was apparent to both of them that she would lose... again.

Evana's mind filled with a conversation. Subterfuge. Can I lie to him? No. Upfront is better - can't bear to destroy the tentative trust. I won't trick him.

Yes. That could help. Cole stayed silent and let her speak it, though.

"Dorian, not to turn things so serious yet again, but speaking of your father... I had a conversation with Mother Giselle right before I came here. There's a letter you need to see."

"And this letter is from-?"

"From your father, yes."

Dorian leaned back in his chair, the game forgotten. Threads shuffled and shifted, pulling tighter in places, loosening in others. Father. The word stifles and scrapes at me. Can I bear to see even just his written word?

"And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?"

"A meeting."

Dorian reached forward, his finger beckoning. "Show me the letter."

Evana reached into her pocket and pulled out the parchment, afraid of wicked wounds reopened. Trepidation coating his nerves like icy armor, Dorian grabbed the letter from her hands and read it, snorting as he reached the end.

"'I know my son'? What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble." He threw the letter on the chessboard, scattering a few pieces. "This is so typical. I'm willing to bet this 'retainer' is a henchman hired to knock me over the head and drag me back to Tevinter."

Evana looked sympathetic, but the fear remained. "Or it could be the Venatori. Lure us somewhere remote, then ambush us."

Dorian tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Perhaps... although this does look like my father's penmanship. Or... could he have joined the Venatori? No... that can't... well, I suppose anything is possible."

He leaned forward, frustration etching his bones as it twisted the lines of his face. "I assume you've told me all this because you want me to go?"

Evana shrugged. "I think it might be good to see what's really going on. But I'll do whatever you choose."

Dorian gave a curt nod. "Alright, let's go. Let's meet this so-called 'family retainer.' If it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone! You're good at that. If it's not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his 'alarm' in his 'wit's end.'"

Relief flooded through her, carrying her mood higher. "OK! We'll leave before dawn the day after tomorrow, ride hard, talk with the retainer - or kill everyone, as you say - and then be back before anyone really notices we're gone. We can prepare for the Western Approach once we return to Skyhold."

"Hmmmm... that means we'll have to watch ourselves at the party tomorrow night... just like my father to ruin everything. I wonder how much he paid this retainer to wait around in case I showed? I guess we'll find out soon enough."

Evana laughed and then took a sobering breath. She gestured to the parchment on the table.

"Do you want to keep the letter?"

Dorian looked at it, his insides hot and stifled like a too tight collar. Reading words - do they give more hope or more pain? Finally, he grabbed the letter, stuffed it in his pocket and then looked back to the board.

"I take it the game is finished?"

"I would have lost anyway, and I've got to get some work done tonight. We have more nobles to meet with tomorrow." She grimaced, her insides folding in on themselves at the whispered slights she feared behind every cupped hand to rounded ear. "It almost has me convinced to meet with Madame de Fer, though I abhor her politicking. She could easily help Josephine with all these fat heads."

Dorian snorted. "Tell us how you really feel, darling."

"She's loyal to the Circles, you know? I mean the ones that treat mages like prisoners."

Dorian echoed Evana's grimace. "Well, everyone has problems, right? If she's a strong mage, use her to help the cause. You don't have to like her for her to be an asset. Like Blackwall."

"I don't dislike Blackwall," Evana huffed. "I just don't understand him. He reacts opposite of how I think he will every single time I speak with him."

"Which is why you don't speak with him?"

She shrugged, the discomfiting memory of one or two stilted conversations outside Haven rising up to fill her thoughts. So abrupt. Left is right. Up is down. Intent of words mangled by misunderstanding.

"He doesn't seem to like my conversation anyway. He and Cassandra - and he and Sera for that matter - get along well enough. I can't be best friends with everyone."

"I should hope not!" Dorian exclaimed. "It's much more gratifying to be one of a select few of the Inquisitor's 'close, personal friends.'" They shared a smirk, and she rolled her eyes playfully. After a moment, Dorian added, "But to get back to the point, can you really afford to refuse help, no matter where it comes from?" Like the help you took from this evil 'Vint.

"I suppose you're right," she muttered grudgingly, her mind also touching on the whispered words. Knife-ear. Rabbit. Vint. Misfits, all of us. "I'll think on it."

They stood from the table, heavy thoughts in their minds. But the hurt shone less brightly than before, and both of them seemed satisfied with the way things ended for now. Sometimes the deep hurts took time to untangle. And Cole was nothing if not patient.

He whispered away, the other two having forgot his presence completely. He felt another, stronger pull, now. The Commander's hurt shone bright like a beacon in the night. Cole needed to find a way to help him, too. That would be harder now that he couldn't talk about her.

#revelation of all things #revelations #revelation world state #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #cole is precious #cole dragon age #cole #fluff and angst #mind reading #troat

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