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saphirered · 3 years ago

Note

I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol

Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))

Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘

Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.

That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.

You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.

Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.

Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.

Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.

“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.

“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.

“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.

“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.

“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.

Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.

You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.

“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.

“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.

“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.

“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.

“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.

“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.

With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.

“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.

So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.

Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.

————

Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.

“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.

“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.

“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?

“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.

Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb widogast x reader #caleb x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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boygirlmeetsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Messy.

ONE-SHOT

Word count: 2793

Disclaimer: One piece and all it’s characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, I just like to write about them.

Warning: None

Rating: T (i guess?? there’s cursing)

Author’s Note: Whale, this is the first fanfic I’ve posted on the interwebs since high school so please keep that in mind, lol. I do plan to finish it sooner than later so check back in a few days if you want to read the rest, sorry I don’t have it all done right now. At long last it it FINISHED.

Feel free to tell me what u think! Unless it’s mean, then I ask that u keep those thoughts in ur noggin because I’m just writing these for fun not for grades.

Without further ado, here ya go.

Author’s Note pt 2: So i didn’t end up going the smut route like I originally planned, but I think it worked out better bc this one got nice and Emotional.

Summary: Zoro really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

__________________________________________

The moon was floating high in the night sky when Nami wandered onto the deck, unable to sleep even after a few hours of sketching.

She wanted company – specifically, she wanted the company of the crew’s resident alcoholic. It only took a few minutes to find him on the lawn deck with his back against a tree and his eye closed. ‘How typical.’

Nami smiled a small, excited smile as she strode over to him and squatted between his parted legs. An unconscious sigh left her nose as she swept her gaze up and down his face. She caught herself thinking, ‘He really is easy on the eyes isn’t he.’ ....again.

Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking the same thing every time she looked his way lately.

Two years ago she’d been able to keep the immature crush she had on him locked tightly away but somehow - it had gotten out and was slowly consuming her entire being.

Nami hoped he hadn’t noticed how often she invited him to drink with her because she didn’t think she could handle being rejected. So she settled for spending time alone with him whenever and however she could.

“Hey, moss-head,” the navigator said finally, leaning in to squint at him, “Are you asleep?”

He had literally just settled down for a nice cat nap when the navigator appeared suddenly to interrupt him. ‘Damn. What the hell did she want now?’

Instead of answering, Zoro chose to ignore her and pretend like he was deep asleep. ‘Why won’t she go bother someone else?’

Nami started prodding his cheek with one finger to rouse him if he really was sleeping, ”Zorooo wake up, I wanna drink,” she whined and his eyelid opened instantly.

‘Why’s she so damn pretty..’ was the first thought he had when he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d anticipated.

He mentally chastised himself after, trying to remind his id that Nami had never once indicated that she wanted to be anything other than friends and he should respect that.

But… There was no harm in looking from time to time was there? And she was pretty. She’d always been... ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, now he sounded like Sanji. He needed to get a grip.’

“Helloooooo,” Nami waved her hand in Zoro’s face until he snapped back to reality and snatched her wrist up, pulling it away. He scowled but it wasn’t deep, and now he was refusing to look her in the eye. “What was that about, huh Zoro?”

“Nothing.” The swordsman replied perhaps a little too quickly to avoid suspicion, “Thought I heard a noise, doesn’t matter – oi, didn’t you want to do something?”

He couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He’d been so distracted by the way her bangs framed her face and sometimes got caught in her eyelashes—’Damnit! He was doing it again.’

Nami smirked again but didn’t press the subject anymore. She’d do that later once they started drinking. “Weren’t you listening to me? You’re so rude, maybe I should find someone else to share my booze with.”

Was it a good idea to go drink with Nami when he kept catching himself thinking about feelings that he’d been suppressing for the last two years? Probably not…

But he couldn’t just decline an opportunity to get buzzed. ‘And... Maybe he wanted to get buzzed with Nami, specifically.’

Zoro scoffed, mostly at himself. “Quit playing games, damnit, do you want me to drink with you or not?”

“You’re so stubborn,” The navigator teased with a pleased smile that made his heart beat unevenly, “I could care less if you join me, but you’re not allowed to come unless you say you’ll be nice.”

“Nami. I am older than you, quit treating me like a fucking child or I swear-”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady who’s getting you drunk for free, Roronoa Zoro. If you can’t be nice then I’ll just add the cost of everything you drink to your debt and-”

Zoro didn’t have time to ruminate over the way hearing her say his full name made him shiver because he had to shut her up before she did charge him.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be... nice.” He hissed through gritted teeth and her answering giggle made his pulse flutter. He had to fight to keep himself from smiling. ‘What the hell was going on with him tonight? Was he sick?’

“Good boy,” she turned and started walking towards the Sunny’s aquarium bar, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was coming.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Zoro snarled to mask his confusion over the sudden need to touch her that he felt scratching at the back of his head. He really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

He knew it, but he followed her up the stairs all the same.

* * *

“Why d’you always want to drink with me anyway, witch?” Skeptical of her intentions, his narrowed eye fixed itself on Nami as she approached him holding two maroon tinted bottles. She offered one to him and he accepted it – but he didn’t let his guard down yet.

Zoro lowered his gaze to check the label out, whistling long and low when he read 23% alcohol per volume. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in his head ‘Oh, that’s why. Because if she tried to drink this with anyone else they’d pass out after two glasses.’

“Would you believe that I just like hanging out with you?” Though her tone was teasing she was actually being genuine, she had a lot of fun with him whenever they went out.

“No–“ He paused when Nami kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him swear. Reaching down with his free hand he rubbed the sore patch of skin and glared daggers at his crewmate. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“You said you’d be nice, Zoro! So be nice or I’ll charge you a hundred thousand beris for that bottle.” Nami uncorked hers but waited to hand the corkscrew over until he behaved himself. The look he was giving her would probably frighten a small child but she didn’t flinch.

‘This was his choice.’ He reminded himself. Of his own free will he chose to get drunk with Nami instead of napping, and that meant dealing with her bossiness no matter how much he loathed it. ‘Sometimes he just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her shut up, there were better things her mouth could be doing anyway-‘

“Why do you keep staring at me like that, do I have a zit or something?”

Zoro sat up so fast that he banged his shoulder on the underside of the countertop. ‘What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him?’ He hadn’t even opened the damn bottle and he was already making himself look like an idiot.

“No,” the swordsman grumbled, wracking his brain for a believable excuse, “Just thinking about how I’ll owe you money even after I’m dead if you keep charging me for bullshit.” That made her laugh and Zoro cursed himself for how much he liked hearing it. “Don’t see how it’s funny for me, witch.”

Nami let him take the corkscrew from her, eyes crinkled with amusement while he opened his bottle. “You’ll just have to stay alive until you pay me back in full, I guess!” She trilled before taking a long, heavy drink from hers.

“Yeah?” Zoro snorted before mimicking her and downing about half of the wine in the container. It tasted disgusting, which he’d expected, but that didn’t make the bitter aftertaste any less miserable. His nose wrinkled slightly as he set the bottle down. “I bet even if I did try to pay you off you’d find a way to charge me more.”

“You make me sound so heartless,” the navigator batted her eyelashes innocently, pretending to look hurt, “Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Hah.” He scoffed before chugging some more wine and failing to keep track of how much he was drinking each time. “Because you want to keep me on a leash since I don’t throw myself at you like that dumbass cook.”

An impish smirk crawled it’s way onto Nami’s face that made him immediately regret what he’d just said. ‘Fuck. Damnit!’

“So…” She began slowly, savoring every second that the swordsman spent avoiding direct eye contact with her, “You admit that you are one of my lap dogs?”

A muscle in his jaw flexed and he stopped drinking for one second to grunt, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard!” Chimed Nami as she rose from her seat, stepping over to Zoro and tracing a finger under his jaw while he drained the last few drops of liquid. “I should get you a collar, so people know who to bring you to when you get lost.”

Normally he would have snapped at her for poking fun at his sense, or lack thereof, direction but he wasn’t listening to her. She’d come close enough for him to pick up her scent and maybe it was the alcohol intensifying his feelings, but it was suffocating him in a good way.

He loved the way she smelled. Tangerines from her soaps mixed with salty seawater and traces of sunscreen. A hint of orange blossom, but only when she was close to him like this.

Zoro inhaled deeply through his nose and, without realizing it, his expression melted into something affectionate and gentle. ‘In two years she’d changed in so many different ways… but she still smelled the same. She still smelled like home.’

* * *

“What are you thinking about, Zoro?” Her voice void of it’s usual teasing tone, Nami’s curiosity was piqued by his sudden shift in demeanor. He looked soft and peaceful, like he didn’t have anything to worry about. She wanted to know why.

‘Ah, fuck.’ What was he supposed to tell her? That he was thinking about how good she smelled? ‘Yeah right.’ Zoro was quiet for a while, mulling over his words until he came up with an explanation that didn’t sound as creepy – but also wasn’t a lie.

“I guess..” he finally murmured, his gaze shifting to meet hers, “It’s just been a while and… I was thinking about how nice it feels to be back here, with everyone…” a brief pause then he added, “I missed you guys.” ‘Look at him being all gushy and emotional, this wine really was something else.’ Zoro reached to brush his fingertips by her temple, catching a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I missed you.”

When had Zoro ever been this honest with her about the way he felt? Never was the answer, but now he seemed to trust her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill his secrets. Nami took his face in both of her hands, surprising him, and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I missed you too, Zoro.”

Something about hearing her say that she’d missed him too broke a dam in his chest that he’d been trying to keep together for two years. Hormoness flooded through his bloodstream quicker than Zoro could even process them and before he knew it he was practically throwing his arms around Nami’s waist and crushing her against his chest.

“Nami—” he pressed his face into her neck to hide the tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sober he might have cared about losing it like this around her but she was here and… ‘He just – needed to hold her.’ Hold her and smell her and feel how real she was because she had almost been taken from him.

‘He’d barely begun to process what he had been through on Thriller Bark when they were attacked in Sabaody. If he tried to think back on it his memories would get hazy and his bones would ache from their very cores. He knew what had happened but it’s like his brain was protecting him from understanding how close to death he’d come. Then – to be torn away from the people he loved with all of his heart? Who he had just nearly killed himself to protect?

It had ripped him apart and rubbed salt into every wound. And it fucking hurt. The same kind of pain he felt when he saw Kuina dead on the floor of their dojo. He was scared, he was furious, he was devastated – all over again but this time it was so much worse. So, so much worse.

That was why he had trained so hard over the last two years. Because he couldn’t bear the grief that came with loving them so deeply – so he got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. No matter the cost to his body, he would become powerful enough to defeat anyone who crossed them. Then… He would never have to feel the agony that he did when he first woke up on Kuraigana Island ever again.

Taking on all of Luffy’s suffering in Thriller Bark had been the most physically painful experience of his entire life – but that was nothing compared to how much it hurt to think that his friends were gone forever, that he hadn’t been able to protect them.

Training made it easy not to think about what had happened -- but now he was home, and they were safe - and he was realizing just how close he’d come to losing all of them. At once. And he could do nothing to stop it.’

Startled by him grabbing her, Nami was prepared to give the pirate a good smack if he was getting handsy but… He started trembling. ‘Was he not feeling well?’ Her mouth opened to form the question then stopped. His breathing hitched while his entire body jerked and she realized…

‘Zoro was crying.’

Roronoa Zoro, who prided himself on his strength, was sobbing wretchedly into her neck. ‘He must have been holding this in since Sabaody.’ Nami’s heart ached for him and his stupid pride that forced him to torture himself instead of letting him cry like he needed to. She’d been expecting him to crash at some point, how couldn’t he? Even someone as strong as Zoro was still a human being.

One of her arms cradled his head while the other wound round his shoulders, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy…” she spoke in the tone that Bellemere used to use when Nami and Nojiko were frightened by a passing thunderstorm. It always calmed her, maybe it would calm Zoro, too.

‘Quit fucking crying you loser you’re supposed to be a man.’ But he couldn’t, he literally could not stop because he was trying to. “I wasn’t strong enough,” his voice quivered at the edges and he hated it. ‘He was definitely never going to drink this kind of wine again ever. Not if it turned him into a blubbering mess like this every time.’

“Shhh, no. No. Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for what happened. Hey, look at me.” Nami urged his head off her shoulder and cupped his face in both of her palms, “None of us were strong enough, okay? Not even Luffy.” Each tear that fell she tenderly swept away with the pad of her thumb. The corner of her mouth turned up as she assured him, “But we are strong enough now. We can take care of each other. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again, Zoro.”

‘She was right. Of course, she was right. He needed to have faith in his crewmates and his captain. They could do anything as long as they had each other.’ His breathing slowly evened out as he focused on anchoring himself back to reality. He wasn’t in Sabaody or Kuraigana – he was on the Sunny. In the bar, with Nami who had grown so much since he last saw her. The look in his eye softened like it had before his breakdown.

“You’re staring at me again, Zoro.” The navigator teased, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. He hadn’t let go of her yet but she didn’t mind, he could hold on to her for as long as he needed.

A ghost of his usual smirk passed across his face. “Sorry, Nami…” Zoro took a little risk by leaning in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her cheek, then traced a path with the edge of his nose to her ear, murmuring, “Wine makes me a little… Messy.”

#zona #zonami #zoro x nami #zona one-shots #zoro nami fanfiction #zonalove #zoro x nami fanfic

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bnhayyy · 4 years ago

Text

Mark of Divergence

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Wordcount: 4.8k

Ao3 Link: Click

Summary: As the alliance sits around the bonfire, Bertolt reminisces on how they ended up there - and worries about what a particular person will do going forward.

Notes: Soulmark colors do have meaning for this au. If you’re curious and don’t want to puzzle it out yourself, feel free to check out this post for reference. This fic was written for day 3 (and lowkey day 2) of @aot-au-week! It is dedicated to @elderkale and @cookietonwrites, with thanks to Celadon for betaing!

Bertolt can't help but be unnerved by soulmarks.

It isn't the concept itself that makes him uncomfortable. The thought that people can fit together so well that they are intrinsically tied is kinda sweet. (Except for the occasions when it isn't.) It's the power that they hold - the way they influence people by spelling certain bonds out for those who might otherwise take too long to realize them. And, as he sits by the bonfire, eyeing the alliance that has formed to stop the man once deemed humanity's best hope, the effects are almost visible.

A soulmark is what made Ymir decide to turn back.

For a moment, it looked like she had given up, but when she looked at the rose-gold crown at the back of her hand, something changed. Bertolt would never pretend to know what goes on in Ymir's mind at any given moment, but if he had to guess, it reminded her that even if she feels weighed down by her cosmic debt, she still has something to live for.

...He can understand why she came close to forgetting in the first place. For a long time, he had assumed that the crown had been her only mark. Then at Shiganshina, they received a brutal reminder of what they were up against when, despite everything, they were nearly wiped out at the hands of Zeke, Pieck, and a furiously powerless Porco, with just a handful of Marleyan soldiers and artillery and their disposal. Scouts died, and Bertolt supposed he was selfish in that, for all that their trust in him was still highly tenuous at best, he was grateful that none of his former classmates were among them. But he was. He was grateful even though scouts still died and Commander Erwin himself was so badly injured that he had to retire.

Ymir wasn't there though. She was back within Wall Sina, the soulmate of the queen. She acted unbothered, but he could see the shadows of guilt behind her eyes when he saw her next. He wonders if that is why their pointless conversation had somehow evolved into her confessing that she had many more marks, across her shoulders and chest, but they were hard to see, having faded into the light silver of ghost marks more than sixty years ago.

Now, he wonders which has had more influence on her being there with them; the rose-gold crown on her hand, or the silver scars cast across her chest.

Soulmarks made it easier to convince Reiner to go with him when he suggested that they surrender.

They were supposed to be loyal to Marley. They weren't supposed to care about the island devils. Yet Reiner was all but riddled with marks that matched theirs, and Bertolt... Bertolt didn't want to see anyone else die. He didn't want anyone else to die and he himself wanted to live. In those moments, he realized that he held a painful, desperate desire to live, and even with his true identity known, he knew that he had a better shot with the “devils” of Paradis than the "heroes" of Marley. So he'd tried to persuade Reiner, and the marks burning his skin like a brand meant that it wasn't very hard.

He doesn't think Reiner has ever truly forgiven him for convincing him, the knowledge of what his betrayal would have meant for his family hanging over his head with every waking moment. But that's fine. After all, Bertolt never apologized.

...He used to wonder why he doesn’t share any sort of soulmark with Reiner. He had hoped that he might turn out to share one with Annie, but when he found out about the bright red crystal she shares with Armin, he realized that it had been hopeless all along. Reiner hadn't been like that though. Where Annie kept her marks close to her chest, Reiner willingly shared his, so Bertolt knew that they didn't share a mark and was perplexed as to why.

It became more apparent after their uneasy return to the scouts. Their identities being known made Bertolt more aware of his own than ever, but not having to keep that secret anymore also had some effect. Getting to live, even if only because they were more useful alive than dead at first, had an effect. The newly-installed queen ordering them to repay their debts to society by serving the scouts for the rest of their short lives had an effect. Bertolt had straightened his shoulders, bore the looks, and found reasons to continue on. Reiner was a different story.

Bertolt had been moving forward with the painful understanding that even if they lived, Reiner would have suffocated under the weight of his guilt if they went back to Marley. What he didn't expect was that it would come for him anyway. The difference was that his surroundings reminded him of what he had done rather than his guilt-ridden memories, and the fate of his family became a new weight on his conscience. For a long time, Bertolt would catch him shooting glances at the golden footprint on his arm, his confusion over it still being there fading into sick understanding as the weeks slipped by.

Where Bertolt found a new will to live, Reiner's death wish began to dog him like a second shadow. He never vocalized it, but he didn't need to. It became more and more apparent as the days passed, with the way he just took any harsh word said to him and the way reckless, sacrificial moves started to add up. Everyone knew by the time Historia was crowned queen. Bertolt wanted to help, but he didn't know how. He had already struggled to handle Reiner's split personality, but this was something new and awful. He knew, logically, what was happening. Yet he couldn't understand. There was a part of him that just couldn't parse how or why they had reacted so differently, why Reiner was struggling so much when, based just on how much he had come to care for the others, switching sides should have helped him most.

It was then that Bertolt realized why he and Reiner didn't share a soulmark. They were and still are friends and comrades, but their relationship is and always has been one of circumstance. In another lifetime, a kinder lifetime, their paths never would have passed. They were friends and comrades who never would have meant anything to each other if left to their own devices.

Bertolt was not the one to prevent Reiner from handing himself over to oblivion at the first opportunity. Instead, he was saved by the people he did share marks with, the ones he had come to care about so much that it had torn his mind in half in the first place. Historia - blue bandage - who even though they didn't talk much, remained unwavering in her order that he not be executed. Connie - purple tooth - who managed to be shockingly understanding, his own losses making it easier for him to understand the reasons for the betrayal. Jean - violet sword - full of pain and rage for the silver wings of freedom emblazoned on his shoulder blade, who had eventually cornered Reiner and furiously declared that he wasn't allowed to die after what he did; it was an easy escape that did nothing to make up for what he'd done. Even Eren - golden clasped hands - and the debt he seemed to think he owed him.

...Reiner had been the first one to realize that something was very wrong with Eren. Now, Bertolt wonders if things might have gone differently if they had listened.

Soulmarks make Eren's current course of action that much more inconceivable.

(How easy it can be to forget. For all of the people who alter their course of action because of one soulmark or another, there are always those who don't.)

Not all of them feel the unique weight of Eren's turn, of course. To those (still) aligned with the warrior unit, Eren is just an enemy of humanity.

(They do not see what they see. While he is just a devil to them, those who knew Eren before see a friend who has wandered so far down a terrible path that he has become near unrecognizable. They do not know that it is as heartbreaking as it is terrifying. They do not know how it stings like a betrayal even though he claims to have his reasons. It makes Bertolt wonder - if this is how they all felt, back then?)

Magath and Pieck are more focused on keeping an eye on Porco, on the risk that his vengeful rage toward Ymir and Reiner does not boil over in a way that may risk their tentative alliance.

In a way, that particular microcosm of tension is almost a relief. It is not pleasant, but the way the old hurt and anger of the Galliard brothers threatens to reach across the groups helps distract at least some of them. Reiner frets and flutters, always keeping some degree of distance between himself and everyone else, while the people he never expected to actually give him a second chance shoot him concerned looks. Ymir is similarly distanced from everyone, although it is with the ease of someone who has not spent any significant time with them in over a year. She garners less worried looks from the scouts than Reiner, and certainly less hateful glares from Porco, but she does get far more uncertain looks from Pieck and Magath. Even Yelena seems unsure of what to make of the woman who got her titan by pure chance.

The children hover at the edge of this drama. Specifically, Gabi hesitantly hovers by Sasha, visibly comfortable inserting herself back amongst the warrior unit after all that has happened, but also not ready to forgive Reiner and uncertain of who else to attach herself to, and Falco hovers close to Gabi. They are another matter entirely, another story tied up in soulmarks and world-shattering realizations.

None of them should have been surprised. Sasha has a history of difficult soulmates.

It didn't start that way. Connie and Jean's blue marks are fairly straightforward, and even if it's a little surprising that she's rumored to share a third with the reclusive Mikasa Ackerman, it isn't shocking or problematic. They started growing to be more of an issue after she met the girl represented by the golden farmhouse on her bicep. Although her bond with Kaya seemed fairly straightforward, their first meeting sounded outright traumatic. The blue leaf that represented Reiner gained a new weight after a certain point in time, but the shock was dulled by the knowledge that four of her comrades also shared marks with him.

No, Niccolo was the one that really threw expectations and preconceived notions to the wind. The discovery that her fiery red frying pan correlated to a Marleyan prisoner of war was an "exciting" incident for everyone involved. But even after that whole fiasco was resolved, the meaning of the long golden mark running along Sasha’s cheekbone remained a mystery. Its shape was seemingly nonsensical - some sort of combination of an axe and a gun. At that point in time, Bertolt had never seen anything like it, let alone met anyone with an identical mark.

There had been three among their ranks with mysterious gold marks at the time. Sasha, with her weird hybrid weapon, Reiner, with his footprint, and Levi, who the former 104th had been shocked to discover had two - a flower on one shoulder and a teacup on the other. Soon after that, Bertolt had overheard Sasha excitedly wonder if her and Reiner’s gold mark might be the same person, if they might be one of Levi’s as well. Jean had told her that she was talking nonsense, that he couldn’t think of anyone who needed three separate guide marks.

That was before they met the girl made to bear the weight of Reiner’s betrayal.

...Turning against Marley hadn't been an easy decision. Bertolt had understood the repercussions that Reiner's family would face - it is why he didn't and still doesn't blame him for any seed of resentment that may have been planted in the aftermath. It is why, as he trudged back to the scouts, uncertain of if he would live or die, he found himself praying that his father had peacefully passed away during the mission. But knowing the consequences of your actions and seeing them first-hand are different things entirely.

Ymir chose to turn back because of her soulmate. Bertolt decided to surrender because they were doomed without her, and because allowing the armored titan to Marley would only mean more suffering for the people he could not deny he had come to love, he had been able to convince Reiner to do the same. Because Reiner had surrendered, his family had been sent to paradise.

But they were not the only ones capable of pulling the threads of fate. Rumor had it that Zeke Yaeger had once been a promising young cadet in a difficult situation. And when he looked at the girl whose fate was nearly sealed by her cousin's actions, despite the differences in their situations, Bertolt theorized that he saw a similarity. Or maybe it wasn't as sentimental as that. Maybe merely saw an opportunity. Whatever the case, the outcome was the same, a story shakily breathed out by a shell-shocked young girl as she watched the hybrid weapon marked across her forearm flicker with intermittent hues of silver and coal. He reached out to the girl and offered an opportunity - work for Marley, earn her place as one of their warriors, and prove that she was not like her cousin. Redeem her family's good name from beyond the grave.

So Bertolt and Reiner became Paridisians in all but name, and Gabi Braun became a creature of fury.

Fury. It isn't surprising that that is all she felt when Paradis came knocking on Liberio's door and killed droves of innocents, including two of her only companions. All because the scouts discovered too late that they couldn't actually control the devil known as Eren Jaeger. He cannot blame her for seeing red and breaking onto their ship. For all the horror of the moment, he cannot blame her for taking fire on the first islander she spotted.

Even after hearing it from her own mouth, it still feels like a stroke of luck great enough to near-divine intervention to know that she flinched. That she saw the unique soulmark plastered on Sasha's cheekbone, and in the same instant that Falco lunged at her, she flinched. She flinched, and although it took hours for anything to be confirmed, hours of blood and stress and fear, the bullet landed painfully, but not fatally.

For all of the propaganda drilled into her head, for all of her despair and hatred for the island of devils, almost killing your soulmate does something to you. In Gabi's case, it dulled her fury enough for her to start to listen. To witness the grief and love of the people around her, the way Marleyan Niccolo was clearly only barely restraining from taking violent action on behalf of a "devil", how, despite Falco's ardent defense of her character, he wasn't the only one insisting that no harm befall to her. It made her witness their humanity. And that, Bertolt suspects, may have made her start to consider who exactly killed her family.

She is still hesitant around most of them, more so than Falco, who, while frightened and out of his depth, is also burningly curious and has a good head on his shoulders. She refused to so much as talk to Reiner until after Zeke's attack. But she is hesitant around the Marleyans now. She also apologized to Sasha once she was stabilized enough to move, which has to count as some sort of progress.

...The soulmark makes sense now. At some point during Zeke's attack, Gabi apparently killed a titan with a gun in order to save Kaya. A delighted Sasha had declared it the mark of a "titan-killer supreme".

So, no. Now that Bertolt thinks about it, none of it is surprising. Not that Sasha shares a soulmark with the girl who almost killed her, and not the fact that of Gabi's five marks, all but Kaya's blue ribbon and Falco's purple feather are golden.

She is already starting to grow out of her fury. Although she does a remarkable job of holding herself together, because Ymir once turned back for her soulmate, because Bertolt followed her and got Reiner to come with him, because Zeke saw a similarity or an opportunity, and because Eren turned out to be the devil none of them believed he was, Gabi Braun is a broken child.

Bertolt hasn't once been able to bring himself to look her in the eyes.

For the rest of them, there is absolutely no escaping the larger shadow hanging over their heads. Levi is too injured for much of his face to be visible at this point, but Bertolt has seen the flickers of pain and regret across the Commander's face. He would be willing to bet that Eren has not left their mind once this entire time. (He also has no doubt that they are already set on what must be done.) Even without bandages, Levi has always been far harder to read, but he suspects that Hange's feelings are a good indicator of his own.

Armin is far worse. His countenance is someone who fears that he may be losing his best friend, who wants to cling to the hope that it might not be too late, but has already accepted the truth somewhere deep down. He and Annie have been sticking by each other's sides all through the night. Bertolt does not know how much Armin truly helps when Annie is so fresh out of her crystal and struggling with her own pains, even subtly contributing to the cloud of other tensions with her own unresolved tensions with Reiner and untouched history with Marley, but he thinks it is still good that they have each other. Even though Armin is one of the people he has found some degree of kinship with in the past years of with Scouts, he does not dare approach them.

Worst of all is Mikasa. There is a greater gulf between her and the rest of the Scouts than Reiner, Ymir, or even Bertolt can lay claim to. It makes sense that she would be further away than Reiner or Ymir, he thinks. Mikasa always held herself at a degree of distance, whereas Reiner was always social and seemed to have half of their tattered group as soulmarks besides. Ymir is a relatively distant person with only one living soulmate, but she cannot be feeling anywhere near the level of devastation that she is in at this moment. But Bertolt? He is a distant person with only a single soulmark that he does not know to correspond to any specific person. Even knowing that Eren may well be her whole world, seeing her so much further away feels wrong.

Bertolt slowly scans the crowd gathered around the fire and does not spot her. He frowns.

"Has anyone seen Mikasa?" he asks.

It’s Hange that answers, glancing up from where they have been carefully watching Levi. “She said she was going for a walk. That was a while ago though…”

Heavy silence fills the air. Bertolt is rising to his feet before he can think about it.

Armin and Jean move in the same instant. In Jean's case, it is the flinching motion of someone about to stand, but he freezes when he sees that he isn't the only one. His gaze slides from Bertolt and Armin to Reiner, then to the warrior unit, to Annie, to Ymir, and finally to the children huddled a few places down from him, before he reluctantly settles back into his seat. Armin, however, is already halfway standing. Bertolt meets his gaze and slowly shakes his head. Armin frowns and glances at the forest, but ultimately looks back at Annie and sits back down with a small nod in Bertolt's direction.

There is something haunting about the forest. It is not the threat of Yaegerists that makes him feel that way either. Rather, it is something about the night. The night and what might come with the day.

It is a relief that it does not take long to find Mikasa. She is sitting hunched at the base of a tree, her scarf tucked over her nose, gazing up at the sky through the tree's canopy.

Bertolt hesitates. It feels wrong to say anything, but even worse to walk away. He knows that she will have noticed him even if she does not show it. Even if she hasn't... it would be wrong to walk away.

Ultimately, he walks up and sits down a few paces away from her, at the base of the same tree. He pulls his legs up against his chest, wraps his arms around them, and rests his chin on his knees.

They are silent for a little while. Then, softly, she asks, "when did you know that what you were doing was wrong?"

Bertolt swallows. His gaze drops to his right ankle. It takes a little while for him to find the words, but when he does, he whispers, "Shiganshina. Right after I kicked the hole in the wall, when I looked down... that's when I knew."

Precious few people know about it - Former Commander Erwin, Commander Hange, and Captain Levi, because he couldn't keep any secrets from them after the truth was revealed, but also Reiner, Ymir, and presumably Historia - but Bertolt's only soulmark is on his ankle. It is a bright burgundy replica of the wall that once protected Shiganshina.

...In his time on Paradis and the years before that, he has not met anyone with a similar mark. He would suspect that his soulmate is dead, eaten or crushed to death in that initial attack, were it not for the fact that the mark has not yet turned silver.

That does not mean that he thinks there is someone out there for him. No. Instead, Bertolt has come to suspect that maybe he doesn't have a soulmate. He looks at his mark and wonders if it is possible for people to be bound to concepts, memories, moments in time. He looks at his mark and sees a warning. A grim reminder.

Perhaps it is egotistical of him to think that his mark is unique, but even so, it is the only thing he can think of. His mark isn't meant to tie him to someone or guide him to them. It is there to make sure he can never forget the worst thing he has ever done, to make sure he never does it again.

How funny, then, that it didn't even work. Just because the hole in Trost's wall was plugged doesn't mean that it was never created. He can try to do better in what little time he has left, sure, but it still happened.

...He wonders if Eren has secretly had Liberio's wall encircling his ankle this whole time. Marvels at how, if he does, it didn't stop him either.

Mikasa makes a slight noise. It is too faint for Bertolt to tell what it is, and he doesn't bother commenting on it, because he's well aware that they aren't actually talking about him.

Several minutes pass before she speaks again, her voice carefully neutral in the way that he knows is designed to hide pain, even if he isn't used to hearing it from her. "Why did you keep going?" she asks.

Because of Reiner, is the treacherous first thought that he doesn't say. It is needlessly cruel and doesn't apply to their situation for a variety of reasons, least of all being that if there was anything Reiner could have done to stop this, he knows that he would have in a heartbeat.

"Because I was scared of what would happen if I didn't," he says instead. "Annie was the same. And Reiner..." Bertolt hesitates, because out of the three of them, he knows that this is the one that matters.

Eren has never been secretive about his soulmarks. There's a reason why Reiner is his only soulmate outside of Mikasa and Armin, even if it took them this long to realize the truth.

...He's caught glimpses of the faux-scarf wrapped around Mikasa's neck beneath the real one, and it is a darker crimson than the actual fabric. The cresting blue wave on Armin's collar bone is several shades darker than it ought to be. The golden clasped hands over Reiner's heart have a black sheen in the right light.

It is possible for golden marks to be mutual rather than just one person guiding the other. Bertolt has long suspected that was the case for Eren and Reiner. However, he also assumed that Reiner's part was done after he revealed his identity. Everyone did. No one considered the alternative until the roles had already begun to reverse and it started to make a sickening sort of sense.

The signs were always there. They just didn't want to see it.

"I don't think Reiner realized he could stop until someone else made the decision for him," he says. "I think... If Ymir hadn't gone back, he would have kept going until someone stopped him."

And he would have been stopped, Bertolt realizes with the sudden clarity made available only by retrospect. Because he and Eren were soulmates for a reason, and if Eren's soulmarks weren't enough to prevent his betrayal of humanity, it goes to reason that it would have happened in a world without them. And Reiner never would have been able to stand by and watch as he repeated his mistakes on a much larger scale. It provides some small iota of relief to how much he has watched him struggle over the past years, because if his path was going to lead him here regardless, then at least he has had time for some of those wounds to heal before the probable end of the world.

But Eren is not Reiner. He does not appear hobbled by guilt in the way Reiner was, and no one is going to come across and commit a greater atrocity to force him back onto the right path.

"I can stop him," Mikasa says, and there is a desperate sort of hope in her voice. And Bertolt...

In that moment, Bertolt is startlingly certain that she can. He has never claimed to know Mikasa Ackerman well, but he knows that she is braver than him, stronger than him, and not truly quite as distant. Eren may well be her entire world, but he also trusts that she will not sacrifice everyone else's to protect it.

He trusts that she can and probably will be the one to stop Eren. He just doesn't trust that she will stop him the way that she hopes she can. Or maybe she will. Bertolt doesn't have any true way of knowing. But as he listens to her make her proclamation, voice vulnerable and raw in a way that he has never heard from her, he vows that he will do whatever he can to help her. Whatever the path ahead may hold.

He doesn't say that though. Instead, he remains quiet for several minutes before murmuring, "We should head back. The others will be getting worried."

For a moment, there is no response. Then he hears Mikasa begin to stand and follows suit. They walk back to camp together and do not have another private conversation until the Rumbling has been seen to its bittersweet end and all of their questions have been answered.

All but one.

Precious few people know it - only Armin and, once upon a time, Eren - but Mikasa Ackerman has five soulmarks.

The first is a silver scarf wrapped around her neck, once a deep crimson, now a mournful silver.

Armin's bright blue book rests on the palm of her left hand. She has never felt a need to hide it.

A cheerful blue potato rests on her stomach, and she will never tire of teasing Sasha for it.

The fact that the tiny purple paring blade hidden on the side of one of her fingers corresponds with Annie's is a secret that dies with them.

And the mark that she has spent years of her life refusing to think about or acknowledge, but is beginning to think that she may be able to address eventually.

Near the tattoo on her right wrist, where it is easily and reliably concealed, rests a bright burgundy replica of the wall that once protected Shiganshina.

#Bertolt Hoover #Mikasa Ackerman #Yumikuri #Reiner Braun #Gabi Braun #Sasha Braus #Eren Yaeger #Eren Jaeger #ensemble tbh #SNK #Attack on Titan #SNK fic #my fic #my writing #AoTAUWeek2021

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franniebanana · 3 years ago

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 26

Note: I will be critical of Jiang Cheng in these posts. If you can’t handle that, please feel free to scroll on.

The absolute what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-here look on Lan Wangji's face right now. I'm cackling. He's really not subtle at all. The genuine shock from this apparently grave impropriety is just written all over his face. In that situation, I'm definitely Lan Xichen. I'll quietly go to the host later and tell them that they really shouldn't have invited that guy. I mean, he's so nice about it, though, and I really do feel bad for Jin Guangyao, who just invited him because they're friends. Aside from all the shit they pull, he and Su She really do care about each other. You know, Jin Guangyao sees himself in Su She, and probably the opposite is true as well, depending on what Su She actually knows about him. It's no wonder Jin Guangyao selects him from the crowd as he does and kind of takes him under his wing. He knows the feeling of being unwanted very well.

He couldn't look more annoyed that Jin Guangyao is bringing up how the Jiang Clan has captured more prey than any clan in the history of these hunts. Part of it is that Jiang Cheng knows that he never would have brought in that many if Wei Wuxian hadn't used Chenqing to bewitch the beasts into the nets. I think the other thing that annoys him is that the whole situation was an embarrassment and now Jin Guangyao is drawing attention to it again, as well as to the fact that Wei Wuxian isn't even there. He's wandering the streets in the city below when he should be at Carp Tower. As I've said before, Jiang Cheng expects and desires Wei Wuxian to be obedient as well as subservient to him. It pisses him off that Wei Wuxian is such a delinquent and has no care for the propriety of the cultivation world.

And the way Jiang Cheng is all smiles to the Jins, toasting with them, being the perfect little clan leader. Like, he has to, right? Anything else would be weird and unorthodox, not to mention rude. But as soon as he sits down again, he's back to that nasty look on his face, brooding about where in the hell Wei Wuxian is and why he had to go and embarrass Jiang Cheng in front of all the other leaders.

Oh, speak of the devil! Here he is! Yeah, remember how Wei Wuxian found Wen Qing at the end of the last episode? Well, now he's really angry. At this point, it's over. Propriety and orthodoxy have been thrown out the window. The Jin Clan is out of line, and he doesn't care what he says and to whom he says it anymore.

I keep saying this, but this is one of my favorite parts. The absolute disdain that Lan Wangji has for this man that he won't even stoop to respond to him. He's seen what he's like on numerous occasions, I'm sure, but not least important when the man was criticizing Wei Wuxian right in front of him to the point that Jiang Yanli stood up to defend him. Lan Wangji is not giving this man the time of day, let alone breaking one of the disciplines just to please him. Lan Wangji doesn't give a damn whether this man deems him friendly or not. And I love all the reactions. Lan Xichen is just like, "He's never gonna do it." Nie Mingjue looks a little worried, like, "Oh, shit, what's he gonna do??"

And my favorite part, where Lan Wangji looks so so thirsty, and there's a tall drink of water right in front of him. Not to talk top/bottom dynamics (but I'm gonna briefly), but this is when I knew CQL Lan Wangji was a bottom. Those eyes just say "fuck me," and I really won't hear any arguments on this.

But another thing I want to say is that this is one of those moments where Wei Wuxian does something rather heroic. Not all of his actions have to be big and grand to be important. Lan Wangji definitely felt rescued here. I think I remember hearing Xiao Zhan complain that he didn't get to do enough fight scenes and he didn't get to run around and rescue people--he felt useless on the battlefield, while Lan Wangji got to do all the saving. But these moments feel more special to me, when he was there for Lan Wangji. Just like I don't really remember the moments where Lan Wangji knocked a sword out of the way, but I do remember how he looked when Wei Wuxian collapsed in his arms in the Nightless City, and I remember how he insisted on Wei Wuxian letting him help him, and I remember how he sang to Wei Wuxian in the cave. Sometimes it's not the big, grand gestures, but the small, quiet, unassuming ones.

I mean, at this point, is there anyone who doesn't want Wei Wuxian to murder this guy? It is kind of amusing to me that Wei Wuxian just moved on from one Jin to another. He's sort of forgotten about Jin Zixuan, who's definitely the less annoying of the two, and now he has turned his attention to Jin Zixun, who is just a gigantic asshole. The guy is just here to antagonize Wei Wuxian, seemingly, by the way he is taunting him here about how long the banquet is going to last.

While he's pretty rude to Jin ZIxun (who cares), Wei Wuxian clearly and calmly explains to Jin Guangshan what the situation is. Not only that, but he's very polite to him. The situation is simple: Wen Ning was kind to him and he wants to return the favor. I feel a bit like CQL didn't do enough to develop the relationship between Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian, even with the added scene with the dog, but even if you just look at what Wen Ning and Wen Qing did for Jiang Cheng--based upon that alone, I think Wei Wuxian would want to save them. Jiang Cheng would be dead right now if it weren't for them. It's interesting how that's reason for Wei Wuxian to save the Wens, but Jiang Cheng wants no part of that. He seems to value looking good in front of the other clan leaders over repaying a life debt. Even without knowing about the Golden Core thing, they still saved his life. Wen Ning brought him out of Lotus Pier on his back. Both Wen Ning and Wen Qing suffered at the hands of the rest of the Wen Clan because of what they did--hello, it's treason. They committed treason for two people they barely knew. And Jiang Cheng doesn't even have the balls to stand up for them now?

Oh, boy, now he's gone and done it. Suggesting the Jin Clan just moved in as the reigning Clan, the one who is better than all the rest, the clan in charge of the others. In other words, the Jin Clan is no better than the Wen Clan--these are the sort of actions that lead to the kind of hubris that they had. And considering the Jin Clan helped the least during the Sunshot Campaign, it's pretty interesting. But, of course, they have a lot of money, they have a lot of men, they were basically untouched during the war. It only stands to reason that they would sort of slide into the place that the Wen Clan carved out. Of course, Jiang Cheng is mortified that Wei Wuxian would suggest such a thing. I mean, in his situation, rightly so. Wei Wuxian is part of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, so his actions and words reflect poorly on all of them. But the sticking point for me is that Jiang Cheng doesn't attempt to understand where Wei Wuxian is coming from. He doesn't try to look at how Wei Wuxian is trying to save the people who saved them--he doesn't see that as a valid reason. Considering CQL is trying to sell that Jiang Cheng has (or had) feelings for Wen Qing, he doesn't seem to care about her very much. Why isn't he disturbed about this news--why is he only angry that Wei Wuxian is being improper? I get what Jiang Cheng is doing here, but what I'm trying to say is that I don't think he's struggling at all with it. I think, for him, it was wham, bam, thank you ma'am, in a sense. He was saved, he got healed, and now he doesn't really have to think about Wen Qing or Wen Ning anymore. They were, in a way, stepping stones on his rise to the top. They were willing volunteers to help him be a better person. He doesn't owe them anything in return. Because, I think, if MXTX or the CQL writers had really wanted us to believe that Jiang Cheng wasn't selfish and narrow-minded, I think he would have gone with Wei Wuxian to try and find Wen Ning.

Me counting down when my toddler is goofing off before bed time.

I think at this point, both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji know that he can't come back from this. After what he just said, then threatening to kill Jin Zixun, then essentially saying he could kill anyone and no one would be able to stop him--there is just no coming back. There's no apology he could give, no words he could say that would convince him to let him back into the fold. It's a moment of desperation, both for Lan Wangji and for Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian is going to save Wen Ning and Wen Qing, even if it means sacrificing what is left of his life. Again, he's willing to give up everything for someone else. Lan Wangji doesn't yet understand, and Jiang Cheng certainly doesn't understand him, even though he is the one who should understand him the most.

Lan Wangji has no choice but to go after Wei Wuxian. Even his brother knows and immediately gives his blessing to do it. Why is it that two people from a different clan are willing to go into the lion's den, but someone who is essentially Wei Wuxian's brother won't do anything? We see Lan Xichen having more concern for Wei Wuxian than Jiang Cheng. To be fair, he's also thinking about his own brother here, knowing that Lan Wangji wants to go, knowing that he wants to help Wei Wuxian. And given that, we have another good contrast to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. The Prides of Yunmeng, indeed--both are indeed proud, so proud that they sometimes forget to even care about each other.

This part gets me every time. It's so heartbreaking listening to her scream out for her brother--even in a valley full of the dead, she calls out for him as if he can answer. Truly heartbreaking. And then the silence that washes over her when she finally sees him.

I kind of wonder why Wei Wuxian doesn't immediately help her search the bodies. Part of me wonders if it's because he does not really accept that Wen Ning is dead. He expects that Wen Ning will answer the call, or that he will pop up somewhere, having been hiding. It's as if he starts searching only when he begins to realize that Wen Ning may actually be dead.

I think what we get between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian is a bit of a peek into what may have happened if Lan Wangji had been there when Wei Wuxian decided to give up his Golden Core. More likely than not, Lan Wangji would have tried to stop Wei Wuxian from doing it. I can't really imagine him just standing back and saying, "Go ahead. It's your body." Lan Wangji is always thinking one step ahead, always thinking about the consequences--what would it mean down the line?

Lan Wangji, bottom line, doesn't really understand Wei Wuxian yet. He knows him well, yes, possibly better than anyone else, even given that Wen Qing and Wen Ning know about the Golden Core transfer. He doesn't understand how Wei Wuxian feels indebted to the Wens--but it's not even that, I don't think. I think it's a mix of that and just protecting the weak, doing what's right--I think that's why he has to stand up for the Wens here. He sees the injustice going on, and he has to stop it. And recalling the oath that they made that evening, Lan Wangji knows he has to step aside. He knows that Wei Wuxian has to do this--needs to--wants to--even at the expense of giving up his cultivation status, his life, even going against everyone else in the orthodox world. And Lan Wangji lets him go. It's probably the hardest decision he's ever made in his entire life. But he was faced with a choice too: go with or stay behind. Hold onto Wei Wuxian or give him up. Be with him, or never see him again. Indeed, the implication here is that you aren't supposed to talk to Wei Wuxian after this. He's been ostracized of his own doing, he is a rogue, a villain, dangerous, not to be trusted. No one in the civilized cultivation world would have anything to do with him.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | Or just check out the #CQL Rewatch hashtag

#wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #cql #the untamed #wen qing #wen ning #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #ep 26 #cql rewatch

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fyeahnevilleslongbottomsocs · 4 years ago

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DO YOU TASTE OLD SHAME WHEN YOU LICK MY WOUNDS! ⚰️ CAN BE READ ON AO3

❝Catherine Cullen finds a sanctuary in a barn with a vampire army. Her creator is dead, she is free, she owes Maria an everlasting debt for saving her, and Jasper Whitlock evokes a strange feeling within her.❞

part of PETALS FOR ARMOR a twilight au series of one-shots! please read tags before reading the one-shot!

warnings: implied child sexual abuse ( past events ), underage marriage ( it’s like a green card marriage but like still, also past event ), past abusive relationship

pairing(s): Jasper Hale/OC

characters: catherine cullen ( oc ) | aristide athanasiou ( mentioned/oc ) | maria ( mentioned ) | beau ( mentioned/oc ) | marcellus cullen ( carlisle’s father but w/ a name, mentioned )

click on ‘keep reading’ if you prefer to read this one-shot on here instead of on ao3!

"GOOD EVENIN' MA'AM . . . you know the stars are bright tonight," Jasper Whitlock says as he climbs onto the hayloft, he addresses the newest addition to their army with a soft voice. The window to the hayloft is closed, the young woman he talks to sits in the dark almost buried in the hay. She was unlike most of the other members, she wasn't a newborn, in fact she was older than Jasper.

She arrived three nights ago, being tailed by another vampire who is now dead. She sought sanctuary in their barn, asking them to free her from her creator. Jasper had been surprised when Maria readily agreed, she had Jasper and Beau dispose of the creator. Jasper wasn't so keen on the idea of killing the creator as he was once a member of the Volturi and although it seemed that he hadn't been a part of that coven for a century or so, Jasper worried that the Volturi would seek revenge for his death. But, Maria had insisted that the creator had to go, for some reason Maria had taken quite a shine to the woman and that was before learning of her grandiose ability.

The young woman, who introduced herself as Catherine, unnerved Jasper Whitlock. He felt a strange pull towards her even though he didn't know her. She had the ability to alter reality to her will, what she says goes, her creator had been a shield which is why she was unable to will him to leave her alone and she had no idea of the physical strength. In fact she scarcely had any idea about what vampires were capable of, it was odd to say the least. Jasper didn't trust her but he wanted to protect her, it was a feeling he had never felt before. He worries that she might have willed them to protect her but he couldn't tell for sure. The only reason he had yet to say anything is because Catherine wasn't doing anything to harm Maria or the cause she worked for, in fact she was trying hard to help but Catherine was not a fighter.

Catherine looks up at him, her concern and fear melting away into confusion and awe. At least he wasn't the only one who felt that way in her strange presence. Her tense posture softens and she whispers "Are they, I haven't looked tonight, sir."

Jasper crinkles his nose at the title.

She raises a pale, thick eyebrow "You call me ma'am."

"I do it out of respect, you do it out of fear," Jasper retorts and she purses her lips, shoulders growing tense again.

"There's nothing to fear here," Jasper adds gently as he walks over to the big window. He opens it as slowly as he can manage, anything too fast seems to make Catherine jump.

"I can't fight, two newborns took my arm off twice today, I'm useless," She whimpers as she looks at her hands, they're trembling. She had so many human mannerisms that it only made Jasper's urge to protect her stronger.

"You're not useless, you're more powerful than anyone here," Jasper disagrees, "You told us what you can do, you can do anythin'. Catherine, you can make anyone do whatever you please."

She shakes her head "It only works on weak minds that's why I could never make him stop."

"Is . . . Is that what he told you," Jasper wonders, walking back over to her, it was odd to move so slowly, it was hard almost but he didn't want to scare her.

Catherine nods "He said that why it didn't work on him but it worked on that kid and those people I killed. That's why I was able to kill Marcellus because he was weak, he was as weak as he made me feel but not everyone is weak, Aris wasn't weak."

"He was a shield . . . Do you know what that means?"

"Well, I know that a shield is what is used in sword fighting but . . . what does — what does it mean for vampires?"

"He could block gifts used against him, a shield is hard to trace as a gift. The reason you couldn't stop him has nothing to do with your gift being weak, it's not weak, he was. He never told you what he could do, he kept that from you to hold power over you."

"Are you a shield," Catherine wonders, eyeing Jasper up and down, perhaps that could explain why he made her feel the way the way he did. It was similar to the way she felt when she first met Aristide.

Jasper shakes his head, his shaggy honey blond hair swaying from side to side, he kneels in front of her and she moves away from them. This felt all too familiar to her, she slips back into the hay, her hair almost blending right in with it but Jasper doesn't move closer. He keeps still and he replies "No, I'm not a shield . . . I can feel emotions and I can even manipulate them to a point. Maria has told me that you can grow your abilities, at first I couldn't handle my gift at all. Even if your gift isn't the best, it can always grow, it has a long time to do that."

"So . . . It's you . . . You're the one who is making me feel this way," Catherine says and she reckons that are worse things that he could make her feel but she doesn't like the fact that he is playing with her emotions like that.

He shakes his head again, she watches his honey gold crown of curls sway side to side again. This time he brushes his scarred hand through them, taking his bangs out of his angular face "No, that . . . That's not me . . . I don't know what that is but I think I feel it too."

Catherine blinks, another human mannerism that catches Jasper off guard, she stares at him blankly "You think, you cannot read your own emotions?"

"No, most of the gifted cannot use their gifts on themselves."

"I can," Catherine says quietly, "Is that . . . is that not normal?"

"It's interesting . . . Your gift has a lot of potential, you could probably turn yourself into a shield . . . If you think about it, you could make me think that I can't read your emotions and you could do that with anyone who has a gift."

Catherine leans forward, why would he tell her something like that, she raises an eyebrow at him, what was he playing at?

"If you don't want me to I won't manipulate your emotions, not that I have before," Jasper says, "But if you feel safer, I suppose you could do that if it works . . . You should be exercising your powers anyway, Maria would want that."

She moves closer towards him, she feels safe with him, she feels almost, well, she doesn't know how to describe what she's feeling. Catherine has only felt this feeling once before, it comes had in hand with the feeling of safety. When she hovered over Pastor Cullen's broken body, his limbs bent at an odd angle because of her, because she could finally protect herself from Marcellus Cullen the man who made her life a living hell. The pastor who haunted her every waking moment and her nightmares growing up, had finally been at her mercy and she felt safe for the first time in her life, she didn't feel weak anymore. Jasper Whitlock made her feel not weak and she quite liked that.

"You make me feel . . ." She trails off, not sure how to word it but she felt the urge to tell him how she felt although perhaps that would be useless. He probably already knows how she feels.

"I'm not manipulation' your emotions," Jasper says, he sits down on the floor, the hay around them rustles loudly and the floor creaks.

"No, I know but you make me feel . . . I'm not sure but I like it."

"You feel confident, powerful, you're content so you must feel safe."

Catherine licks her lips, powerful? How could she feel something she wasn't?

Jasper watches the action with keen interest, such a delicate action for such a powerful woman. It was unnerving to watch her act so delicately when she could have this entire barn on their knees with a single sentence, she really didn't know her own strength. Catherine could take Jasper out with hardly two words, she was much more powerful than him or Maria and yet he still wanted to protect her. He needed to make sure no one like her creator got their hands on her again. He wanted to be her protector even if he was unneeded.

"I've felt a pull like this before with Aris, it was different . . . I thought he was the devil or a demon but I couldn't stop myself from wanting him. He told me that I felt that way because we were meant to be but that was probably just another lie . . . And this connection, it feels different, I trust it . . . Do you feel that way too?"

Jasper nods, unsure of what to say. In this moment he is just as clueless as her, she moves closer to him and this is the closest she's been to anyone outisde of Maria, her knee brushes against Jasper's knee.

She smells sweet, not as sweet as some humans and her smell wasn't mouth-watering but it was intoxicating. Cinnamon, he believes, which is odd and probably wrong it's been a long time since he was around cinnamon. And then citrus, she had killed a man who had basket of oranges among other fruits in his cart, he had just finished an orange shortly before Catherine had killed him. This was just the previous night, she brought the basket of oranges and various other fruits that no one had bothered to look at but she said it smelt nice so neither Beau or Jasper argued with her decision.

Catherine reaches out and touches his face, her finger trails one of the bitemarks on his jawline and then she blurts out "We should kiss."

Jasper stares at her, he's certainly not opposed to the idea but it had come out of nowhere "Why?"

"Well, this feeling could be unresolved sexual tension."

"Um," Jasper says, "I've felt that before and this is not that."

"Oh . . . Okay, I just thought because of Aris —"

"I think this is what love is supposed to feel like," Jasper says uncertainly, he had never felt that emotion before as a vampire so it could be very different.

Catherine pulls away like Jasper has burned her, she moves quickly and her elbow of the hand she extended towards him goes through the wall of the barn. She's shocked by his statement and Jasper is quick to change his words.

"Well, maybe not love . . . I mean, maybe it's pining, I'm not sure. I've never felt this way before and neither have you, it could be anything," Jasper says.

"We barely know each other," Catherine whispers, "We can't be in love."

They were definitely pining for each other, pining to know why they felt this pull and what it could mean. But, love? That was a highly unlikely answer. Now Catherine Cullen doesn't know much about love, not the romantic kind at least. She believed she loved Aristide but she didn't, she cared about him at one point and she must have tricked herself into truly believing that she loved him. Aristide never loved her, not romantically, he was obsessed with her. He said he loved her but he just felt like she belonged to him.

And her marriage was not built by romantic love, she got married at fourteen to a twenty-year-old man and the marriage was never consummated. It was only to save her from the clutches of Marcellus Cullen; her husband was a good man, her best friend and she loved him platonically. He died a year later from the plague. Romantic love was never her strong suit but she did know sex and she had since a young age, perhaps too young.

Marcellus Cullen had taken everything from her, he had cut off any chance she had at learning what love is. It was his fault that Catherine's father went on that vampire hunt and was either dead or living somewhere in the world. It was his fault that she lived a life full of poverty and hatred. He took her mother, accusing her of witchcraft shortly before Catherine's ninth birthday. And on her ninth birthday, Marcellus set her mother Elspeth Fynch aflame upon the pyre. He forced her to live in the church, and every night he would take more and more from her and even though she had brought him to his end, making him suffer as he pleaded for the mercy he never showed her, it would seem that Marcellus Cullen still took from her even from his grave. Marcellus Cullen would tell her that he loved her though he shouldn't, every night for years. And Catherine knew that was definitely not love.

"I don't think I can love," She adds, "I'm not deserving of it, Jasper, not after everything that I've been through."

"What your creator did to you, that's not your fault, you are not at fault for what others did to you," Jasper says firmly, eyes darkening, lips curling at the thought of anyone treating Catherine poorly, "My sister had her reputation ruined because a man promised to marry her and he lied. My own mother and father won't speak to her, the last I heard from her my nephew had just turned four. It wasn't her fault for what he did to her and yet she's left to deal with the consequences all on her own."

"I'm sorry about your sister but that . . . It's not the same, Jasper."

"She's paying for actions that she didn't cause and so are you. She felt the same way after, she lost everything because of that man and you lost so much time because of your creator, believing his lies he told you to get what he wanted. No, they're not the same but they're similar enough and I stand by what I said, Catherine."

Catherine smiles softly "You don't even know what happened to me."

"I don't need to know to understand that you're not to blame for the actions of somebody else . . . One day, you'll learn to think that too. Acceptance is hard to give yourself but eventually you will."

Catherine kisses him, soft and gentle, cautious. Not like she had kissed anyone before. She pulls away just as quickly as she moved forward, Jasper's eyelids had fluttered shut, his hand frozen mid reach for her arm. He opens his eyes to see her staring at him with uncertainty. His lips curl into a half smile, she just notices now that he has dimples. Catherine hesitantly smiles back at him, he places a scarred hand on her forearm and leans toward.

"Perhaps we should kiss . . . again," Jasper suggests lightly, his burgundy eyes flickering to her lips.

Catherine stares at him, waiting for him to kiss her but he doesn't, there's a pause and then Jasper asks:

"Can I kiss you, Catherine?"

Her eyes widen at the question but she nods her head, she hadn't expected him to want to kiss her. Jasper leans forward and kisses her, more gently than she had him, it surprises her. The gentleness he moves with, he was Maria's best fighter next to Beau, and yet his kiss felt almost weightless. She deepens the kiss, she doesn't know how to kiss this way, it feels strange to her, almost unreal. Almost like this is a figment of her manipulation.

His hand moves to her shoulder, pulling her forward slowly, Catherine breaks the kiss first and Jasper huffs in annoyance but he makes no move to kiss her again, he just stares at her. She tilts her head at him, he was a strange man, but she liked it. She leans forward and kisses him again, this time on the scar on his jaw line and he makes a noise of surprise and Catherine freezes. Jasper lowers his face and kisses her lips, his hand leaves her shoulder and cups her cheek.

When they finally pull apart, Jasper smiles at her, dimples more prominent this time and she feels him radiating happiness, the feeling that she feels for him, and some other feeling she had never felt before but it warmed her. It reminded her of the wool blanket that Agatha's mother had knitted her way back when she was human. A welcomed warmth to fight the years of coldness she had felt.

"I think this feeling is better than love," He says, voice as soft as velvet and Catherine finds herself inclined to agree. This was different then love, this was something she could learn to understand, this was something she yearned to understand.

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malpractiice · 3 years ago

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FATHER. ╱ HEADCANON

trigger warnings: substance abuse, crime, prostitution (implied)

growing up, avery was surrounded by friends whose fathers were cold, distant, and unloving: their relationships were tense at best and abusive at worst, and she was well aware that she was incredibly lucky not to be in the same boat. ever since she was a child, her father had been open, supportive, and loving - he’d wake up early to eat cookies and watch spiderman with her every morning before getting ready for work, he’d show up to every recital and tournament, and where her friends’ fathers were too busy with work to spend time with them, her dad just brought her with him to work whenever he could instead (little avery spent a great deal of time attending public trials that had nothing to do with her simply because she wanted to learn about her dad’s job and watch him work). he always had her back, and he always made her feel loved.

her dad, in a lot of ways, was her best friend. and that, inherently, became the problem.

harry, her father, had a terrible relationship with his own dad - he’d been strict, cruel, demanding, and always angry. as a result, he wanted more than anything not to put avery through the same things he had experienced - he wanted to be the kind of dad he’d always wished he’d had. but because he was so desperate not to be like his father, he ended up turning into the polar opposite. and in many ways, that was fantastic: he was warm, loving, and kind. in other ways, it wasn’t, because the line between father and friend was blurred, and inevitably crossed and left far behind. she snuck into his liquor cabinet when she was thirteen - his response was to just start buying her whatever alcohol she wanted whenever she wanted, because he wanted her to be happy, and he dismissed the parental responsibility to keep her safe and healthy in favour of maintaining that happiness, no matter the cost. she punched a classmate and broke his nose when she was fourteen - he paid off the kid’s parents to ensure they wouldn’t press charges, because keeping her happy and free of a criminal record was more important to him than holding her responsible for her actions and teaching her to face the consequences.

he wanted to be her friend more than her father - he wanted all of the fun parts of fatherhood (the bonding, the laughs, the love, the good times) and none of the tough ones. he didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship by reprimanding her, teaching her, or raising her with her own best interests in mind. and had their lives not fallen apart, the worst that would’ve come of that would probably just have been avery turning into a spoiled brat of a trust fund kid.

but when addiction turned to bankruptcy and bankruptcy turned to crime, the nature of their relationship had consequences far beyond some arrogant entitlement typical of so many in their socioeconomic circles. when her mother left and begged avery to do the same, she refused, despite all logic telling her to listen - her dad was her best friend, and she didn’t want to abandon him. she wanted to help him - save him. this, fundamentally, was the issue that started the beginning of the end for them: he had never been her parent, he’d been her friend, and this fifteen year old child was becoming her dad’s parent more than he had ever been hers because that was all she knew.

avery would cover him in blankets and set out water and breakfast for him when he came home and passed out on the couch - she woke him up so he wouldn’t miss court dates because he’d crashed so hard from the coke that he couldn’t get up on his own. she picked him up when he passed out at the wheel and crashed one of his cars. she gave him clean urine when his work demanded drug tests. she let him pawn off her valuables when he lost everything so that they could keep their house. she worked two shitty, minimum-wage jobs to pay his bills and debts, and when she couldn’t keep up her grades alongside her work hours, the compromise she made to ensure she could still get her scholarship was to quit both and pursue a different kind of work - work a teenager should never have to do (work her father knew about, condoned, thanked her for). when he started selling drugs to finance his own addiction, she kept his books. when he owed the wrong people far more money than either of them could pay back, it was avery that arranged for them to clear the debt in return for his last luxury car while he was tied up in their trunk. she went with him into dangerous situations because in his words, they wouldn’t kill him with his innocent daughter right there. the list goes on - he relied on her like a partner in crime, in a way a parent should never rely upon their child, and she enabled him every single time because she was terrified to lose the dad she’d already long since lost.

it wasn’t until he was regularly in and out of jail that she started seeing that it wasn’t sustainable - she wasn’t saving him, and the ways she thought she was helping him were only making it worse. she couldn’t be his parent, and she couldn’t save him if he didn’t want to be saved or wasn’t willing to try to save himself. when she got the scholarship to harvard she’d been working so hard for when she was 18, she finally made one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made - to leave. to let him lay in the grave he’d dug himself or crawl out himself.

he didn’t blame her; they stayed in contact, although their conversations dwindled more and more over time. she told herself it was because she was too busy with school, she made excuses upon excuses, even though the only one she was lying to was herself. the truth was that she couldn’t bear to talk to him - she could never stop blaming herself for abandoning him in the hell he’d made for himself. she heard his voice, heard his pain, and it broke her heart a little more each time to feel that her dad, her best friend, was suffering and alone because of her. because she couldn’t save him - because she gave up. because maybe if she had stayed, he would’ve been okay.

when an armed robbery went wrong and he was sentenced to life in prison, she finally cut ties. it wasn’t because she resented him for the lives he’d unintentionally taken - although she’ll never see it, she doesn’t have enough empathy for anyone other than herself to care about the people whose lives he was responsible for ending - it was because his life was over, and she couldn’t handle the guilt anymore. she couldn’t handle the constant reminders that, to her, it was all her fault that he had nothing left. she was a coward, and instead of helping him through what might’ve been the hardest time in his life, she blocked his calls and ran from him instead to spare herself the pain.

in time, she came to understand that as his teenage daughter, it had never been her job to save him or help him, and he never should’ve put her in a position to have to. she came to understand that it had been his fault for putting his dependent child in danger for his own benefit and wellbeing - he never should’ve shirked his duties as a father, he never should’ve treated his daughter like his business partner, and he never should’ve depended on his child like his child should’ve depended on him. it was his responsibility to raise her and keep her safe, and it was him that failed her, not the other way around. she still feels that guilt sometimes despite her better judgement, and she’s fully aware that only talking to him about it after all this time would be likely to give her any closure. but that brings us to the biggest truth that avery will, in all likelihood, never have the strength to admit to herself: she’s not staying out of contact with him out of guilt anymore.

she’s running away from him because she’s turned into him, in all of the worst ways she was so determined to avoid, and talking to him again after so many years would force her to face it.

she’s not ignorant to the fact that working for murkoff is no less criminal than the work her father started his own downfall by doing for the organization he eventually fell out with. she knows she’s fallen into addiction just as severely as he had, with just as little interest in ever pursuing sobriety. she’s fully aware that just as he had with her and everyone else in his life, she’ll use anyone (no matter who they are to her) and throw them aside when they’ve outlived their usefulness. she knows her values have eroded with time, pushed aside in favour of the pursuit of her own success. she’s consciously aware of all of those things - she can live with herself for that. but the moment she’s forced to acknowledge that all of those faults put her right down on his level, she’ll fall apart, and she can’t do it. she won’t be able to live with the knowledge that she became the exact same kind of person who destroyed her belief in good, who took her childhood and threw it away, who made her give up on the idea that she was anything more than alone in the world, with no one to have her back but herself.

she doesn’t see that her father did everything he did either because he just wanted her to be happy or because he was so desperately broken by addiction that he felt he had no other choice. she doesn’t see that she’s done worse than he ever has simply because it benefited her, interested her, because she wanted to.

avery healed by believing her father was a monster, and she would break if she was forced to see that she’s far worse.

#i am still drowning in worse but i keep thinking about this so i had to write it up during a break #so here it is lmfao #「 HEADCANONS. 」#/ long post

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ahtohallan-calling · 5 years ago

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all that matters in the end // kristanna post f2 one-shot // angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending

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thank you @gabiwnomagic for once again collabing with me on this fic and for the beautiful art!

One moment, Kristoff has a hand raised in the air to wave a greeting to their hosts, the other pressed casually against Anna’s lower back.

And then the next he’s on his knees and still falling, and the cape she’d been wearing is in tatters, half in his hand and half still hanging from her shoulders as she charges after the assassin with the sword she’d yanked from Kristoff’s belt the second she’d seen the flash of a knife.

It’s meant for decoration more than anything, not sharp enough to kill, but she knows from the way the man gasps and scrabbles at her hands that it still hurts like hell when it’s crushed against an exposed throat.

She can’t look back, only down at the assassin’s purpling face and the scratches his blunt nails leave on her fingers. If she doesn’t look back then that means Kristoff is still alive and not bleeding out, sentenced to death for the crime of standing beside her.

“Mercy,” the man gasps, and she presses harder.

---

Someone took the sword from her; she’s not sure when. Her fingers itch for it still, curling and uncurling at her side as she waits in an unfamiliar room for him to wake.

The king and queen have been exceedingly gracious, have cancelled all matters of diplomacy and state and locked down the capital til the would-be murderers are caught.

(Would-be, because he’s going to survive. He has to. When she had turned back he was already unconscious, and she cannot fathom a world where she didn’t get to say goodbye.)

And they’re in a suite of guest rooms now, with guards posted at every door and window, and a revolving team of physicians, and Anna has a bed for herself, but the sheets haven’t even been pulled back.

She brushes her fingers over his cheek again, trails them down to cup his jaw. “Look at me,” she pleads, “wake up and look at me, honey, I promise I’m here. I’m not leaving, not ever again.”

She’s told him that once before, after the forest. She promised. And then she ran after the assassin anyway instead of even lingering long enough to catch Kristoff as he fell.

“Forgive me,” she sobs, begging him now as tears course down her cheeks and she curls forward to rest her cheek against his shoulder. “I mean it this time.”

---

When he does wake, she cries so hard it scares him.

He tries to reach for her out of instinct, but then a hiss of pain tears from him as he falls back against the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Anna gasps as she runs her hands over his face, through his hair, across his shoulders, over and over again. “I’m so sorry, Kristoff.”

He finally catches her wrists and stills them. “For what, baby?” he asks, eyes wide with confusion.

Before she can give him the answer he deserves, the doctors sweep in, and she backs into a corner of the room, watching from afar and trying to stem the flood. Mattias sees her and stands beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders to steady her. “It’s alright, your majesty,” he says, sounding so paternal that despite his gentle words the tears start all over again.

He murmurs reassurances and holds her, and she hates herself for accepting them, when all she’s done is sit around feeling sorry for herself.

And leave, she reminds herself furiously, you fucking left when you said you wouldn’t.

She wants to leave again now, to escape Kristoff’s worried gaze, focused on her even as the doctors poke and prod at him. She doesn’t deserve the kindness in his eyes; she never has, but she’s terrified of what her world would become without it.

---

They go home a few days later; the visit was to forge a stronger bond, and that has been accomplished, at least. Now she knows that Corona will stand with Arendelle under any circumstances, and has assured them that her own kingdom and people owe them a debt that could never be fully repaid.

There’s not going to be a trial; the assassins went down fighting, and all intelligence points to a rogue group that has evaporated after the botched attempt on their lives. Still, there are extra guards onboard the ship with them, posted outside their stateroom doors.

Anna doesn’t see much of them, only catches glimpses when food is brought by. She eats for Kristoff’s sake more than her own; he won’t touch his own supper until he’s watched her force down a few mouthfuls.

They don’t speak much; apologies lay heavy on her tongue like burning coals, stifling any other conversation that would normally flow with such ease between them. Kristoff doesn’t ask for them, doesn’t give any indication at all that he even expects them, only keeps looking at her with those sad, dark eyes, catching her hand and holding it tightly.

“I love you,” she tells him again, the only words she can manage to get out.

For once, he doesn’t say he loves her too. Instead he squeezes her hand a little tighter and says, “You’re scaring me, baby.”

I know, she wants to tell him, I know and I’m sorry for that too, and I’m scared too, and I’m not leaving again, but if you want to now--

“I love you,” she whispers again, and he sighs and closes his eyes.

---

The bandages came off today.

She didn’t even have to tell Gerda she’d make her own bed the next morning, their own secret code, normally delivered with a wink and answered with a fond sigh and shake of the head. But today, the older woman took one look at the expression on the queen’s face and said softly, “I’ll not send anybody up til the afternoon, Anna.”

She wishes she was still just Anna to everybody. Then she wouldn’t be in a bed that still felt too big in a room that felt too stuffy on a night that felt like it would never end.

And Kristoff wouldn’t have a fucking hole in his side.

Not a hole anymore, she reminds herself dully, not like it was a month ago when the assassin’s knife was torn free, spilling spurts of crimson all down the vest she’d had made for him to match her new blue dress.

After, when Mattias had draped a blanket over her shoulders and pulled her close to try and stop the shaking, she’d asked through chattering teeth, “Why didn’t it turn purple? It’s blue and red, so why didn’t it turn purple? That’s how it works, doesn’t it?”

“Your majesty,” he’d said softly, “I think you need to lie down,” and when she’d refused he’d slipped her a powder that kept her from doing anything else for the next day.

But it’s not a hole anymore; it’s a puckered red scar, one she can feel through the thin fabric of his nightshirt. She tries to focus on something, anything else; brushes her nose against the warm expanse of his back, presses a kiss to the knob of his spine, slips a hand under the shirt to press against the warmth of his stomach as it rises and falls with each sleep-slow breath.

He’s alive, but now it’s in spite of something, and the thought of that is going to haunt her for many more nights to come.

---

She’s been waiting for this a long time. She closes her eyes now, lets it wash over her and soak her to the bone.

“Jesus, Anna,” he says, frustrated. “I just-- I can’t do this anymore. It’s killing me.”

There it is; the dismissal she deserves. She rises so quickly her head spins, and before he can say another word the door is closed behind her.

She’ll see to it that he’s taken care of, of course, for the rest of his life, though God knows he’s never needed her and all this finery, not when he’s known how to survive on the side of the mountain since he was a child. But she’ll do it, all the same, love him in a way that doesn’t hurt him, as long as he’ll let her.

The ring, though; that’s the one selfishness he’ll have to allow her. She’ll pay him for it, if he wants, but she can’t stand even the thought of looking down and seeing her left hand bare once more. She’ll not take it off, not for herself or anyone else; she’ll have to talk to her sister, or to Kai and Gerda if she’s no help, find out if there’s some distant cousin who can inherit, because--

She cries out in surprise when a heavy hand settles on her shoulder. “Sorry,” Kristoff says hastily, though he doesn’t let go; instead he leans more heavily on her, taking a moment to catch his breath as his other hand clutches at his side.

“You’re-- you’re not supposed to be overexerting yourself,” she says frantically, turning and setting her hands on his ribs to help him stay upright.

“And you’re not supposed to leave,” he replies, so seriously she flinches and looks away. “Anna, you promised.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry I broke it, I--”

“No,” he says fiercely, resting his forehead against hers. “I heard you. You said if I woke up you wouldn’t leave again.”

Something in the ruin of her heart stirs at the thought that somehow even unconscious he knew her, heard her calling for him, came back for her-- but the warmth is fleeting, snuffed out by the hurt in his eyes. She shakes her head frantically. “I-- I know-- but it’s better this way, I’m glad you see it now, I--”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want you to go.”

“You said you can’t do it anymore,” she whimpers. “And I-- you’re right, you can’t. I can’t ask you to. This is all my fault, Kris, I’m so sorry.”

He pulls her closer to his chest, resting his cheek on the top of her head as his hand runs soothingly up and down her spine. “It’s not, baby, none of it is.”

“If you-- if you never met me, then you’d still be safe. You’d be with the trolls and Sven and you’d be--”

“I’d be alone, even with them. I don’t want-- I can’t go back to that. I don’t want to.”

“You could have died,” she chokes out, her hands fisting in the front of his shirt. “And it would have been my fault, and I-- I--” She gulps for air, squeezes her eyes shut; she can’t stand to see the tenderness in his expression, not right now. “When they-- when you...I’ve never been more scared, Kris, not of anything. Not ever.”

His hand stills on her back. “But you…”

“I’d-- I’d take freezing to death, and Hans and all his bullshit, and the rock giants and all of it, I’d do it all over again if that would undo this. I can’t imagine anything worse than losing you.”

“Oh,” he manages to say. “Oh, Anna…”

“I love you,” she whispers. “More than anything. You have to believe me.”

He kisses her forehead again, each of her cheeks, even the tip of her nose, and waits until she finally looks at him before speaking again. “I do,” he says softly. “I do.”

They stand there for a while longer, until his breathing is steady once more and the last of the tears on her cheeks dry. She nuzzles her cheek against his chest, letting the warmth of him sink into her. “I’m sorry, Kristoff,” she says for what feels like the millionth time; some days it feels like failure is all she has to offer him, and still he stays.

“Don’t be,” he murmurs. “I know how it feels to be afraid like that.”

And he does; she knows that, knows he tosses and turns at night and calls her name until she’s able to rouse him, knows how his heart pounds under the press of her hand for a while afterward.

She lets her fingers drift down to his side, to settle lightly over the scar she thinks she can feel even through the layers of his nightshirt and robe. He lowers his own hand to press over hers, large enough to cover it entirely.

“It’s alright, Anna,” he reassures her. “I’m here.”

And so he is, and that’s all that matters, really, in the end.

---

a/n: i want to say another huge thank you to gabi for the inspiration and idea, for helping me develop the story, for the art, and for being such a fantastic friend to me and so many others. love you angel xo

#kristanna #my fics

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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years ago

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Tengu! Kaminari Denki x Reader

Your father owns the pub in town, you love working as a waitress until you find out that the pub isn’t doing so hot anymore. A new wealthy clan offers to buy your father out of his debt in return for one thing…

Halloween time! I love monster boys, this is in the same universe as Kitsune Todoroki, you can find that here > https://writinginthedarkwood.tumblr.com/post/188178949954/kitsune-todoroki-a-mischievous-encounter

Warnings: lemon content. Also, this is kind of long lol

“Can you get another round for that table over there Y/N?” Father called from the kitchen, it’s the dinner rush and the pub is full. People were laughing and talking loudly over each other, drinking and eating there bellies full. I looked to see where father was pointing too, the corner table by the window wasn’t eating, just having a few pints. Their glasses were getting empty, I took my notepad over with a smile. “Thank you so much for coming out today, can I get you boys another round?” I flashed them my most flirty smile, they have nicer clothes on then I’ve seen anyone else in this town wear, they could be big tippers. The shortest man in the group sat on the end with a flushed face, he laughed with a bit of drool hanging out of his mouth.

He had strange hair, it looked like some type of purple jelly substance sitting on his head. “I’ll tell you what I’d like to have a round of…” He exclaimed loudly to his friend sitting beside him. His friend laughed, also intoxicated. He was wearing a large jacket that puffed out on his elbows. “Aw come on don’t give the pretty lady a hard time!” The man said with a wide toothed smile. He put a hand on his bangs, they were black and flattened on his forehead. The shorter man turned his attention back to me and let out a sick giggle. “I’ll take another beer, and slice of that ass.” He pinched the air with his fingers like he was about to touch me. I recoiled, but tried to keep my composure. This isn’t the first time I’ve had someone make advances toward me while working but something about his skeevey eyes made my stomach churn. “Hey now!” A firm hand grabbed my shoulder and moved me out of the pathway the little man was following to reach my body. His touch left a light tingle on my collar bone. He stood between us, tall and confident. “There’s no need to be rude Minetta. We’re guests in this establishment.” He flashed me a beautiful smile. He looked different than anyone I’d ever seen travel through this area before, was he from out of town? My cheeks blushed slightly. He had yellow hair, with a black streak in it, he was unbelievably handsome, but boyish somehow at the same time. He took a seat across from the other two, next to a girl who had been quiet mostly. She was fuming, her eyebrows furrowed. “We can’t take that rat with us anywhere.” She said to me. “Everything is alright!” I said cheerily, trying to build the mood back up. “What were you all drinking tonight, I have one beer down. What else?” The yellow hair young man stared at me with a slight upturned grin. He lifted his half full mug and took another drink. “How about you bring us a pitcher of that fine ale, and we’ll pour our own drinks. That okay doll?” He tilted his head, studying my face. I tried to hide my excitement that he called me doll, what the hell Y/N get it together! I just smiled and turned to get them their drinks. My heart thudded in my chest, and I took a deep breath with my back turned to the table still. Just pour the beer with out spilling it Y/N… I filled the pitcher and went back to the table and set it down carefully. “I’ll come check on you in a little bit, if you need anything go ahead and just let me know.”

“You’ve been great, thank you sweet heart.” The blonde smiled.

I felt his eyes on me the entire rest of the night, they were the last table to stick around. My father flipped the chairs onto the tables while I wiped down the bar counter. The kitchen closed an hour ago, and the last of the beer is about dried up. Father leaned over the counter and whispered to me. “I’m worried they’re going to split on the bill…” He nodded his head towards the strange group. “Have you been keeping track of their tab?” Sweat gathered on his brow, we can’t afford to have them disappear. Father doesn’t talk often about it, but we owe a lot of money to a lot of people. Some, more scary than the others. “Yeah they’ve drank enough to pay rent this month alone.”

“Shit, why don’t you go let them know we’re closing soon.” I nodded my head and straightened out my apron. I pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear and looked at my reflection, ugh I look so messy. I know I shouldn’t care but… I approached the table with the calculated cost of their tab. “It looks like you all had a really nice night.” I said without making eye contact with the man staring holes into dress. They had enough beer to knock the best drinkers in town out cold three times, but they seemed pretty composed still. “Is it closing time already? I still want beer!” The black haired man with the big jacket whined. “We have some more to drink back home Sero, we don’t want to keep this lady up all night.” The girl spoke matter casually, but a hint of demand in her voice. She had a very cute face, and short hair in a style I’ve never seen before. She had strange earrings hanging down and touching her shoulder. “Is that the tab bar maiden?” I swallowed, my admirer stood and took the tab from my hands, his fingers gently brushing mine. The hair on my arms stood up, a light shock hit my knuckles and I squeaked, pulling my hand away. He chuckled at me. “Well would you look at that, there’s so much electricity between us.” He didn’t even flinch reading the extremely high number. He handed it back to me and pulled out a leather pouch from his pocket. He handed the entire bag to me, it jingled with coins. I gasped looking inside, it was filled to the brim with gold pieces. “You’re not from around here, are you mister?” I said completely floored. He smiled at me, I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “We’re from the east, we decided we wanted to see what these beautiful lowlands were all about.” He said a little coy, like that wasn’t the entire truth but would make the most sense to say. “Well, welcome to town.” I tried to turn quickly, my hands shaking. I’ve never seen so much gold at one time. “Could I get your name, maiden?” He asked. My heart fluttered, the way he called me maiden was so alluring, his voice dripping with charm. “Oh… I’m Y/N… my father owns this place.” He gently took my hand and planted a kiss on my fingers. “Please, called me Denki.” I nodded my head, hardly able to speak. “Ye- yes sir.” I stammered out. He smiled, liking the way he made me nervous.

The group gathered themselves and left, my father locking the door behind him. We sat behind the counter together counting today’s gold and silver. “Wow I should go to the market tomorrow and get us some fresh vegetables.” I beamed, excited. “I can make a big pot of soup for the special tomorrow.” Father ran his hand through his hair and I noticed something strange come over his face. Tears gathered in his eyes but they didn’t spill. “It’s not enough, honey.” He said choked up. “What do you mean? This is more than enough! We made so much tonight.” He shook his head no, my lungs felt tight. Please don’t tell me…

“We owe them more money.” He said sadly. “A lot more money.”

The town can be really peaceful, as long as everyone pays their debt to the “collections agents”. People have up and gone missing before, but we don’t dare say anything about it. “How is this possible? We almost had them paid off.” I felt a sob gathering in my throat. “You said that we were almost free-” He cut me off. “I know what I said!” He shouted and I took a step away from him. He never raises his voice to me. He quieted down. “I lied.” He said almost in a whisper.

A knock came at the door. My father swept the gold quickly into our lock box and hid it under the counter. “Go upstairs and don’t come down unless I tell you.” I planted my feet on the ground firmly and crossed my arms. “I’m not leaving you.” I said, a tear streaming down my face. “I said now Y/N!” He slammed a fist on the counter. Devastated I ran upstairs and threw myself on my bed like a child, and broke into cries. How could he jeopardize our lives like this? I would have gotten another job, or helped him budget in the very least!

It was very quiet downstairs. I wiped my face off, and removed my apron. I changed out of my work clothes and put on my sleep wear. A simple cotton dress that goes right to the top of my knee. I tried to freshen myself up, everything should be fine. That gold will at least hold them off for another month maybe.

Father called upstairs for me to come see him in the bar. I stepped down the stairs and didn’t hear much talking. A man in a suit sat at the bar leaning on one elbow. He didn’t smile when he saw me. “Ah, I can see why Kaminari would put this offer on the table now.” He said plainly. My father had tears streaming down his face. He looked down at the counter in shame. “What’s going on?” I asked timidly. The man looked at my father out of the corner of his eye. “Wanna tell her, or should I?” Father didn’t speak up. “Okay I will then.” He waved his hand in the air, aloof. “A good friend of our agency…” He started. “Has offered to buy this sink hole out of debt for you.” A sly grin spread across his face.

“What? Really? That’s amazing!” I cheered, clapping my hands with joy. I looked at father, he didn’t move his look away from the counter, tears welling in a little puddle under him. “What…” I thought for a moment. “What’s the catch?” I asked, my happiness dying down. “Well that’s where you come in.” He looked me up and down. “You get to decide whether you care about your family or not, right here and right now.”

I shook my head, not understanding. “Of course I love my family, what do you mean?” My stomach twisted in a knot. His sick grin grew wider. “He offered to buy your bar out of debt, under the condition you marry him. How romantic.” My jaw dropped and my face turned red in anger. “How dare you insult me like this! What kind of perv would-”

“Ah, well if you feel so strongly about this that’s no issue.” The man interrupted me. “Boy’s come on in, it’s a no go.” He shouted over his shoulder. The collections agency thugs slammed open the door. Men in large suits poured into the bar, holding various weapons. “Wait! Wait don’t…!” They grabbed father by the arm, he didn’t resist. “Who is it?” I shouted over the commotion. The man snapped his fingers and the thugs dropped father. “He’s new in town. Moved here with his family, a big group of people from out east.” My heart pounded so loud I could hear my blood pumping through my ear. “His name is Kaminari Denki. Strange fellow, ridiculously rich.” He peered at me through thin framed glasses. “They bought that mansion past the lilac fields. Built a giant ass fence around the whole thing.”

“I’ll do it.” I spit out. The man chuckled. “That was fast, alright men. Load her up!” He snapped his fingers again and the thugs grabbed me in their arms. “Wait right now?” I shouted at the man while looking at my father. “We don’t want you to try and run off, you’re worth a lot of money right now.” The men dragged me out of the bar and threw me into a buggy. I slammed my fist on the window, screaming for father. He stood in the door way biting his nails while the man in the suit held his shoulder firmly.

I sat in silence during the ride their. It felt like hours to reach the edge of town and get to the fields. It wasn’t, but time was slow. How did I get here? I was hoping to see Mister Denki again, but I never imagined it would be like this. Maybe I fell asleep after the bar closed, and this is a dream. I pinched myself and it stung a little, maybe its a dream that I can feel things? No, I know its true. I can see the iron gate closing off the road ahead, a thick mist hung low to the ground. The buggy stopped at the gate, the woman from the bar was standing behind it. She unlocked the big chain holding the gate shut and we passed through. The gate closed behind us and the door to the buggy opened. She stood there with a stoic face, she stuck out her hand to help me and I took it. I was shaking, the night air felt freezing, flowing right through the thin fabric of my night dress. She took off a fur coat and put it on my shoulders. “Come on, its not a far walk up this path.” She waved the buggy away and we stepped up the hill. “Hey.” She said after a few moments of quiet. I looked at her, she had a gentle smile on her face. “This isn’t what you think.”

“It’s not?” I said, my voice shaky coming through chattering teeth.

“No, I was going to let Denki explain everything, but we really wanted to help you.” She had taken my arm, helping me walk over rocks. I was only wearing slippers, they threatened to fall off. “Something about you really stuck out to our leader, the thought about something bad happening to you…” She hesitated, thinking about her choice of words carefully. “Let’s just say he really didn’t want something bad to happen to you.”

“Really?” I asked and she nodded her head yes.

We walked in silence a little longer before I noticed we were at the mansions front courtyard, it was like the building appeared out of nowhere. I gasped, it’s the biggest home I’ve ever seen. A large bird launched itself off of the roof, in the dark it looked too large. Almost like the size of a man. The door opened suddenly and that short man named Minetta called out. “Oh Kyoka it isn’t fair! Denki get’s all of the babes and now, the most beautiful wife ev-” Something jutted out from her hair and stabbed him in the gut. A long strand, connected to a sharp end recoiled back towards her. What kind of weapon is that? The little man held his stomach and groaned. “P-please. Come in…” He said through gritted teeth.

The furniture was all from the east, a pile of shoes sat by the door. It seemed very homey, something smelled good in here. I realized I hadn’t eaten all day, and my stomach growled. Kyoka and Minetta lead me to a dining room and sat down on the floor. The table is low, and filled with food. Kyoka made me a plate and encouraged me to eat. I’d never had food made in a traditional style from the east. I ate some of the rice, my stomach thanking me even though I feel to nervous to eat anything else. “Denki should be coming back soon, he had to stay in town on… some business.” Kyoka said. Minetta chimed in. “Yeah, how the hell did your dads bar run up such a big tab?”

Tears welled in my eyes, poor father. He never meant to borrow money, after mother died he borrowed just a bit to pay for a proper funeral. It was all downhill after that. Kyoka slapped him on the back of the head. “That’s rude, Minetta.” A voice called from behind us. The black haired man stood in the doorway, his arms were no longer hidden by a jacket. There was something bulky on his elbows, his skin bulged in a circle shape. I raised an eyebrow, trying not to stare at him too much. “Denki’s upstairs in his room. He said to send her up there to talk!” He sat down beside Kyoka. “Should I walk her up there?” She asked, setting her bowl of food down. She stood up without him answering and took my hand. She walked me down the hallway to the base of some stairs. “Just walk up here and turn down the hallway.”

I walked barefoot up the stairs slowly, my breath shaky. I can’t stop thinking about his smile, why couldn’t they have at least let me change? I feel so exposed in my dress. The door at the end of the hall was open slightly, I felt a chill of the cold night air rush across the floor and cause chills over my whole body. I held my skirt down and pushed the door open further.

The room is dark, the moon coming in through the open balcony being the only light. He was standing there in the night air, the white curtains billowing in the wind. He was shirtless, leaning against the balcony railing facing me in the doorway. The door shut behind me and I jumped. I stepped closer, something was jutting out from his back. I moved the white curtains and gasped. He had beautiful black wings, large and taking up all the space behind him. I tried to step away but froze. He yawned and stretched lazily, his wings folding behind him. “Hello Y/N, I’m glad you made it here okay.” He said sweetly. I covered my mouth with my hands. What is he? An angel? He took my hand and pulled me close to him. His chest pressing against mine, I couldn’t speak. “I know you probably have a million questions, but I have to ask you properly.” He knelt down and held my hand between us. “Please, Y/N. Be my wife, you and I were meant to be together, I just know it.” He said enthusiastically. I tried to wipe a bit of a smile off of my face, but it crept onto my cheeks anyway. “I don’t know what to say.” I mustered out. He smiled and slipped a golden band on my finger. “Then just say yes.” He smiled at me and kissed over the band. “I… yes. I’ll marry you.” My answer fell out of my mouth, surprising the both of us. He stood up and pulled me against him, wrapping his strong arms around me and kissing the top of my head. I couldn’t help but curl into him, he smelled like expensive cologne. “Well this is great!” He said breaking the silence. “Now that we’re married, I can do this.” He pulled me inside his room and spun me around. I twirled and giggled, falling into his arms. “You misspoke, we’re not married yet. We’re just engaged!” I said, my anxieties dying down. Something about him making my worries melt away for a moment. He looked at me puzzled. “Oh I guess you’re right.” He chuckled letting me out of his arms for just a second. Something wicked flashed over his face. He grabbed both of my arms and shoved me to the wall, a gasp of surprise falling out my lips, the air in my lungs rushing out as I hit the wall. He pinned both of my hands above my head and looked down at me with a sinful smile. “We have to make things official before you’re truly my wife.” He purred in my ear, giving my jaw a peck. “What are you doing?” I asked, flustered. He used his free hand to stroke my cheek and I shivered. “What does it look like I’m doing silly girl?” He pressed his hips against me, I felt his member grow hard against my naval. “I’m claiming my wife.” He whispered in my ear, sparks of electricity escaped from his lips and jolted my body. “How do you keep doing that?” I said, breathless. “I can do a lot of crazy things Y/N.” He kissed my neck, sucking gently on my skin. A breathy moan fell out of my mouth and I clamped my lips shut. He chuckled darkly. “Just let it all out love, I want to know how I can make you feel good.” He kept kissing my neck as his hand crept up my thigh, I squirmed underneath him and pressed down harder, holding me still while he explored. “Relax, I want to feel every part of your tight little body.” He pulled me off of the wall and laid me down on a thin mat on the ground. He kissed my lips for awhile, just taking his time using his tongue to explore every corner of my mouth. He smoothly slipped my night gown off of me, showing him my body. “Oh fuck, how are you so beautiful?” He slammed his mouth back onto mine and ran his fingers through my hair, pulling down harshly at the strands near the nape of my neck. I cried out and he let go. “Sorry love, I can’t help but be a little excited.” He kissed my lips softly and pulled his pants down, his staff trying to burst out of his underwear. A wet spot glimmered where the tip was, his excitement dripping out of him. My eyes widened, this was really happening. I gripped at the mat and he took the final piece of clothing off that was keeping him from being completely naked. “This might hurt a little, I’ll try and be gentle.” He said, his arousal making his voice a bit more raspy. He placed his tip on my entrance and felt around, finding the best place to insert himself. I closed my eyes and cringed. “Hey now, don’t clench up like that. You need to breathe.” He palmed a now swollen part of my body, my clit throbbed as he applied more pressure, not even toying with me. Just pressing down on on my clit with his palm and slowly moving it around. “I can make you feel really good, but you have to loosen up some.” I felt myself getting wetter, his touch not giving too much stimulation. I relaxed my shoulders onto the mat and let out a sigh. “Yeah, like that.” He rubbed himself against me, letting some of my moisture cover him. “Ah shit…” He groaned and slid himself between my lips, having to shove himself to fit. I sat up and my eyes shot open. “Denki!” I cried out, tears welling up in my eyes from the shot of pain. His breathing heaved and he pressed his chest against mine, guiding me to lie back down. “See? It’s not so bad.” He teased, nibbling on my ear lobe. He moved his hips slowly, rocking himself back and forth while we adjusted. I gripped onto his shoulders, my nails scratching him. The pain died down quickly, I started to savor the new sensations. I felt his girth grind against my walls, his pace picking up. The sound of his skin slamming against mine filled my ears and I felt my core heat up, a fire building low in my belly. I whined his name, and he moaned in my ear. “That’s it baby, moan my name.” He kissed me with heated passion, his hips still bucking into me. I gasped for air, my body releasing the built up tension in a shaking orgasm. I cried out his name again, louder than before not even worried if anyone down stairs could hear me. He bit down on the skin over my collar bone and I winced. My discomfort riling him up even more. He grinned wolfishly and grabbed both sides of my cheeks with one hand, pinching me face to look up at him. “Stare into my eyes while I cum inside you.” He slammed his hips into me a few more times as he squirted his seed. I felt him pulse as the warm liquid filled me up. He smirked after one final groan and shook his head. “Here I thought you were a dignified lady. Not a little cum slut.” He said in a mocking tone. “This was your idea!” I tried to shove him off of me and he just laughed and slammed another kiss onto me. “You’ll have to grow a bit thicker skin Y/N, sometimes I like to be rough.” He pulled himself out of me and helped me sit up.

“Come on, let’s go get us a drink to celebrate!”

Hey my requests are open! It can be Halloween related or something else!!

#kaminari denki #tengu #kaminari denki x reader #denki x reader #bnha smut #lemon bnha #monster bnha #kinktober #exophilia #denki smut #inthewoods yokai

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emileeknow · 5 years ago

Text

Infiltration - Part 2

Paring : Reader x Mafia!Doyoung

Genre: Angst + Fluff | Words : 5.2K

Warnings : Light stalking (sort of)

1 | 2

Doyoung’s POV

After leaving the club and returning to the van, I sat quietly in the back of the vehicle. Looking out the tinted black windows I kept my eye on the street.

Yuta would think I was watching the apartment or the surrounding vehicles, but I actually had my eyes focused elsewhere.

My mind was eased as I saw a figure shuffling quickly out of the back entrance to the club. Clutching her bag tightly with one hand, her phone with the other and walking as fast as she could. It was evident the darkness was intimidating to her.

I wanted to walk her home but it would prompt too many questions from the others. They didn’t need to know about her.

“Can’t believe we had to leave just as the show was getting good” Jaehyun pouts.

“You have a job to do. I let you go for a couple of hours so shut up or I’ll tell Taeyong about your little excursion” Yuta states coldly.

Yuta was not one to mess with. He was reliable and focused on work. Doyoung liked working with him. The same could not be said for the other two currently in the van.

They continued to watch the apartment for any movement. Rumor was that the girlfriend of the leader of GOT7 lived there. Taeyong had ordered a stakeout to see if JB ended up there.

Why that required 4 of them sitting in a much too small van all night, he did not know.

The van wasn’t exactly inconspicuous either. Although it advertised a local plumber, JB would probably notice it was there if he did come to the apartment. If he approached it, they would have issues. That was probably why Jaehyun and Johnny were here.

What Doyoung didn’t understand was why he had to be there. He tended to keep his targets at a longer distance. He was an experienced sniper after all. He was smart and was often involved in operation planning. He was good at manipulating people into doing what he wanted. Hence Taeyong was sure to keep him close.

While Doyoung was initially annoyed he had to go on this mission, which to him seemed more like babysitting his colleagues than an actual mission, he was actually glad he came.

He got to meet you. He was looking forward to hearing from you tomorrow. He wanted to see you again and he hoped you felt the same. Doyoung found this weird as he had never had these thoughts about anyone before.

“What are you thinking about?” Johnny interrupts his thoughts.

“Nothing”

“Doesn’t look like nothing, you were smiling” he teases.

“I think a girl at the club caught his eye” Jaehyun smiles knowingly.

“What?!” “Doyoung? A girl? Don’t be ridiculous” Johnny chuckles.

His face remains stoic, not wanting them to know about her. He didn’t want to drag you into his work life. It was far too dangerous, and you had already been through enough with that club owner.

He hoped that Jaehyun was just saying that and that he didn’t actually see you talking to him. It's not that he didn’t trust Jaehyun, he would trust him with his life. It’s just he didn’t want them to know about you. Much like he didn’t want you to know about them.

They sat and watched the apartment for the rest of the night. JB did not show up.

Doyoung finally crawled into bed back at the base as the sun was starting to rise. The mission had been pointless and he was beyond tired. He locked the door to stop any of his members disturbing his much needed sleep.

Y/N’s POV

I woke up the next day after a pleasant night’s sleep. I had important planning to do and didn’t want to waste a second. I would have to call Doyoung at some point today, act like I was really grateful for what he did and bring up the topic of paying him back.

I needed to fully sell this innocent girl act which meant committing to it full time. Thankfully the apartment I lived in was in no way extravagant. I usually stayed at the club or at Seungcheol’s since neither of us liked being alone.

My apartment was already fitting with the poor girl who owes money to a bad man character. I only kept the place as it could be used as a safehouse if needed, but now it seems like it will see some actual use after all. Doyoung would have no doubt started a background check on me. The story I gave would have enough similarities with what would come from searching my history, so I wasn't worried about him finding out who I really was.

The only reason I gave him my real name was that nobody who had bad intentions towards NCT would be stupid enough to give their real name. So when Doyoung does his research he would see that my name matches my face, and my father was a piece of shit who had many debts and about 3 wives in different countries. Doyoung would assume I don’t know about my father, and that he abandoned me with his debts to run off with whichever woman he was with at the moment.

His curiosity would be satisfied, I wouldn’t be a threat and he wouldn’t dig any deeper into who I actually am.

Hopefully the information he uncovers about my father will help add to his sense of protectiveness towards me. If so it seems my father would actually be of some use in my life after all.

Doyoung’s POV

He awoke to an obnoxious ringing noise. Reluctantly he reached for his phone, letting out a long groan of annoyance.

He didn’t even look at the screen, knowing it would most likely be Haechan. Everyone else had the common sense not to wake him early after being on a mission all night.

“What do you want?” He groans into the phone, the irritation heavy in his voice.

“S-Sorry, I think I have the wrong number” a voice that was definitely not Haechan stuttered nervously into line.

“Wai-” the line cut off before he could say anything.

Doyoung curses himself, running his hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up.

He calls the number back, praying you pick up.

The phone rings for longer than he would expect.

“Hello. I’m really sorry. I was trying to call someone and I must have put the number in wrong. Please don’t be annoyed” you rambled quickly.

“Y/N. It’s Doyoung,” he said as softly as he could manage first thing in the morning.

In reality it was probably about 3pm but as far as Doyoung was concerned it was still too early.

“Oh-” you pause “Am I bothering you? Is this a bad time? I’m sorry”

“Please stop apologizing. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I’m sorry...I thought it was one of my friends calling. I have been working all night so he knows better than to wake me”

“I woke you up. I’m So-”

“Don’t you dare say it” he cut you off. His voice was light. He wanted to ease the atmosphere and make you feel comfortable. That, and get you to stop apologizing.

“S-” you caught yourself chuckling lightly into the phone.

His heart warmed at the sound of you giggling quietly to yourself. It was a pleasant sound, light and breathy. He found it cute.

“Did you get home okay last night? I wanted to escort you, but had to go to work unexpectedly”

“Oh it’s okay. I got home fine. I’m used to walking home alone.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend or anyone to accompany you?”

“I don’t” He hears you laugh “and I don’t want to burden my friends late at night”

“Well you won’t have to worry now seeing as you won’t be going to the club again”

“Of course not. You said never to go there again and since you own me now. I will do as you say. You seem much nicer than Mr Choi.”

“Don’t even mention that scumbag’s name in front of me” he can’t help the growl that appears in this throat.

“Okay. Sorry”

“Wait a minute. What do you mean I own you?” Doyoung wasn’t sure if he was still delusional from sleep or if that had been what you genuinely said.

“Well I owed money to Mr Choi. but now you paid him so I owe money to you.You told me to go home and to call you today. I assumed you had bought me from Mr Choi, which I am thankful for by the way, but I’m not sure what you would want me for. I’m only really good at cleaning” you explain.

“Y/N. You are free. I don’t own you. I paid that money to Mr Choi so that you didn’t have to work there anymore.”

“But why would you do that for me?”

“Because. As I said yesterday, you deserve better than that place”

“But I still owe you $20,00. I don’t have a job now. I can’t pay you back” the panic was starting to creep through into your voice again.

“You don’t owe me anything. I don’t want money. I just want you to be happy”

Silence followed from your end of the line.

Y/N’s POV

Dramatic pause.

You remain silent. Pretending to contemplate his words. Trying to create the impression that you were trying to put what he said together and that it won’t add up.

“Y/N?” Nothing

“Y/N? Are you still there”

“Sorry. I just don’t get why you would do that for me. Thank you though. I really can’t thank you enough for getting me out of there. I will pay you back somehow. Once I get a new job-” You begin to ramble on before he cuts you off

“Y/N I said I don’t want your money”

“But I can’t let you just spend that on me without paying you back. It just doesn't feel right” you persist.

“Well maybe you can pay me back in another way”

You stayed silent for a minute. You were not expecting that. You could tell from the tone of his voice he didn’t mean it in a sexual way, but you left a long enough silence for him to think that you had perceived it that way.

He had dug the hole and you were all too happy to push him into it.

“I-I’m probably not very good at … that”

“Oh no” he panics.

You had to keep the smile off of your face. Knowing it would show in your voice the next time you spoke.

“That is not what I meant. I don’t want ...that” he clarifies

You breathe a sigh of relief. Loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough for it to seem unintentional.

“How about when I need some help, I’ll call you and if you’re not busy then you can come and help me.”

“Like help you run errands? Or clean your house or something? That I could do” you reply hopefully.

“Yeah exactly like that” you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay. I’ll help you” you smile.

“Thank you. I must go now, but I will call you when I need some help”

“Okay. Thank you again Doyoung. For everything”

“That’s quite alright. Bye.”

“Bye”

There is silence for a moment as he waits for you to hang up. Which you do. You needed to not seem too interested in him.

You lie back down on your bed. Satisfied with how that conversation went. Once you got to know him a little better you could let down your timid act around him. You were looking forward to when that time came. Sure naturally you weren't exactly a massive people person, but this little mouse you were playing was just a bit too exhausting to have to keep up the whole time.

You supposed if you ever had to deal with others around Doyoung. You could go super shy and just not say anything. That would add to the act but also make Doyoung feel that you were only comfortable with him. Which would play into your plan nicely.

You started to map out the next phase of your plan. You needed to get a job. You needed to seem like you were still determined to pay him back even though he said he didn’t want your money. That, and you needed it to look like you were determined not to depend on him.

Since you had an apartment to “pay for” you needed it to look like you had a legitimate job to explain your income. You also needed it to be convenient enough to still be able to meet Doyoung whenever he was available.

You knew his schedule would be all over the place. There was no 9-5 in the business the two of you shared. Shift work would probably be the best option. You wouldn’t be heavily tied to the place, but it would be a reasonable job for you with the skills he thinks you have.

The place needed to be somewhere he could come and visit you and you could always set up some interactions. Although a cafe seemed like a good idea. A Convenience store might be slightly better in the long run.

You knew he would not expose his gang life to you anytime soon, if at all. Once you are in deep enough with him, you could always stage an attack or something while you are working late at night that somehow leads to you ‘finding out’ who he really is, and force him to explain himself.

The timing on that would have to be perfect. You wouldn’t get a second shot, but that was a long way off yet. First you had to focus on cute interactions and timid smiles.

Doyoung’s POV

“Who were you talking to?” Chenle casually enters Doyoung’s room.

“No one. How did you get in here”

“You said I should practice my lock picking” Chenle shrugged.

“Obviously, not on my door” Doyoung groaned.

Luckily for Chenle, his phone call with you had knocked most of the drowsiness out of him, otherwise the younger member would have faced the forefront of Doyoung’s morning moodiness.

“Well there weren’t any other locked doors” Chenle answered as if Doyoung was the one in the wrong for him breaking into his room.

“Anyway, it didn’t sound like no one, your voice was all soft” Chenle giggled.

“It was no one you should concern yourself with” he stated seriously.

“You know I’ll find out who it is eventually, I have been practicing eavesdropping too” Chenle smiles innocently before skipping out of the room.

Doyoung groaned, knowing he would have to come up with some sort of explanation so that Chenle didn’t start talking about the mysterious person he was on the phone with to any of the other members.

Chenle was often too nosy for his own good. He was also not intimidated by Doyoung, which made it harder for Doyoung to get what he wanted from the younger member most of the time.

Y/N’s POV

It had been around a week since you last spoke to Doyoung. You knew he had been keeping tabs on you, so you made sure to keep up your act whenever your curtains were open. You were sure you probably had someone monitoring you by now. You weren’t sure how close your monitor was or if they had visuals through the windows of your apartment. It was probably unlikely at this stage, but you couldn’t risk it.

You knew for sure someone was following you when you left the house. You weren’t sure who was following you, if it was Doyoung himself or if he had got someone else, but you knew someone had been tailing you every time you left the apartment since that night.

You pretended like you didn’t notice, but in all honesty it was so obvious to you that it was painful.

When you used to help train the newer members of the SVT, you had gone through tailing targets with Seungkwan. He was never very good at it but he was definitely better than this guy. In fact this guy made Seungkwan look invisible, which you didn’t think were possible.

If anything they were getting more obvious the longer they followed you, it was like they were getting consistently worse.

You hadn’t called Doyoung again. Figuring that he would have to initiate the next call. He said he would phone you if he needed something. You had no reason to phone him and did not want to seem too keen on him. Yet.

You were about to leave the convenience store. You had successfully managed to get a job there. It was relatively easy since you said you were available immediately and you could work pretty much any shift. It was local but not local enough that you could walk home ‘comfortably’ on your own. It seemed like a nice enough place to work. The area was nice, but not too nice that some conveniently timed trouble would seem out of place. It was perfect.

It was around 7pm when you left the store after the manager had gone through your new duties with you. You were due to start tomorrow afternoon.

As you left the store, you noticed the guy was still loitering nearby. He was over on the other side of the road, sitting on a bench reading a book. From his figure you could tell he definitely wasn’t Doyoung.

As you walk across the street and past him, you heard him get up and start to follow behind you. It was like stealth was not in this guys dictionary.

No one trained in a gang could be this bad, surely.

The situation didn’t sit right with you. It was almost as if he wanted you to catch him.

You needed to test this theory.

You stopped and nervously tilted your head over your shoulder. He didn’t even try to hide or blend in. He was standing around 10 meters behind you. His face was obscured by a mask and his hood was up. He even looked obvious. Obvious enough that a defenseless woman would notice and feel uneasy.

You thought Doyoung might have set this up to get you to call him.

On the other hand, even if it wasn’t a setup and the person he had assigned to keep an eye on you was just genuinely this bad, it wouldn’t do any harm if you phoned him because you were scared that someone was following you when it was getting dark. You were defenseless after all.

You pick up your pace down the street. Looking around frantically for somewhere you could safely stop and make a phone call.

You spot a cafe. Perfect.

You walk at a brisk pace. The guy was still following you loudly, catching up but not enough to suggest he had any intention of actually catching you. You push through the door to the cafe.

You take out your phone with shaking hands, walking over to the back of the shop where the counter was. You sat down in one of the armchairs. Pointed towards the storefront window, which you looked towards nervously, scanning your surroundings.

You call Doyoung’s number.

He answered after one ring. Which was enough confirmation for you that he was indeed expecting this call.

“Hello” he answers. His tone was serious but not intimidating in the way it was when he last answered the phone.

“Doyoung. I think- I think there is someone following me” you let your voice tremble as you continue to focus your gaze out the window.

You didn’t know quite how closely he was observing you from. You couldn’t see the guy that had been following you, but he was still outside somewhere.

“Where are you?”

“The cafe by the crossing at the edge of the park where the kids playground is” you ramble quickly.

“The one next to the karaoke place?”

“Uh- I think so. I’m not sure. They have blue canopies out the front”

“I’m coming to get you. Stay there. Don’t go outside”

“Okay. Please hurry. I don’t know where the guy went, or if he’s inside. Oh god, what if he’s here somewhere” you start to breathe heavily.

“It’ll be okay, I promise. I’m on my way. I will be there as quick as I can” he tries to reassure you.

“Okay. Thank you Doyoung”

You hear him start to run before he hangs up the phone.

You keep your phone in your hands.

You figured Doyoung was probably close enough that he would be here soon to comfort you, but not close enough that he would be here soon enough to suggest he knew you would be in this general area at this time.

You were right. 15 mins passed and Doyoung walked through the door. His eyes were scanning the cafe before they landed on you sitting in the armchair in the corner. You wave at him to catch his attention even though you knew you already had it.

He walked over quickly.

“Are you okay?” he asks looking you up and down.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I'm sorry. I haven't seen him since I called you. I was probably overreacting. I’m sorry to have bothered you” you rattle off quickly.

“No it's okay, I’m glad you called. Don’t ever think you are bothering me okay.” he takes your shaking hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly.

You look up at him. You let the nervousness go from your face, looking into his eyes as sincerely as you could.

You had to admit, now you were looking at him like this. He was quite beautiful, there was no denying it. You could see why he caught a lot of female attention. The suit he was wearing fit him nicely. It was probably custom made. His dark hair fell over his forehead in a way that made you want to push it away from his face. His eyes were dark and full of emotions. You didn’t allow yourself to check him out for long even though part of you wanted to do just that.

“Do you want me to take you home now, or do you want to stay here for a little while?”

“Um, can we just go home. I don’t like that he might still be nearby” you respond anxiously.

“Okay, lets go” he smiles softly.

He walks towards the door, pulling it open and holding it as you step through. You look around nervously.

“Do you see him anywhere?” He looks around with you, trying to spot someone out of place.

“No” you look around frantically. “I could have sworn someone was following me”

“He must have left when he saw you enter the cafe, even if he is hiding somewhere he will see you leaving with me and get lost” he replies confidently.

“Which way?” he asks waiting for you to lead him towards your home. Eventhough you suspected he already knew where you lived.

You point down the street in the general direction of your apartment.

He nods and starts to walk in that direction. Slowing his pace to keep up with your purposefully small strides.

“I’m really sorry to burden you like this. You just met me and I’m causing you all this trouble”

“It’s no trouble. I was dying to leave work anyway”

“Well thank you then. Speaking of work, I got a job” you beam at him

“That’s great, where?”

“The convenience store that is around the corner from here. It’s not much but I should be able to afford to keep my apartment now”

“Well If you ever struggle for rent let me know”

You chuckle. “I already owe you enough, I don’t want to become any more of a financial burden for you, so please stop trying to throw money at me” you say it lightheartedly as if it were a joke, but you were hoping he would pick up on the sincerity of your request.

It occurred to you that it might also be a test to see if you were in fact after his money. You were sure he was no stranger to women who wanted his money. You needed to seem like you were different.

Denying his money was partly for the act but also for your own pride. Naturally you hate owing people things. In the long run it would be easier to keep up the act if you incorporated elements of your actual personality.

You were no actor. You had never had to maintain character for the length of time this mission would require. As you get to know Doyoung and he sees you become more comfortable around him you would begin to act more like yourself. Or at least a toned down version.

Obviously you still wouldn’t be being honest, there were so many things you would have to keep hidden. However if you tried to react as naturally as possible it would reduce the likelihood of out of character interactions, which would become more dangerous as the mission progresses.

Currently he thought you were this shy little deer, that opinion you would have to gradually change. The panicked phone call and the way you were naturally conversing with him now would definitely help in the long run.

In some ways you could thank him, setting up this whole situation is just making his downfall all the easier for you and he doesn’t even know it.

“It’s not like I can’t afford it” his laugh brings you back to the conversation at hand.

“That’s not the point” you state.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes a little”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I will try to stop doing that”.

You smile appreciatively at him, “Thank you”

The two of you walk in a comfortable silence back to your apartment. He climbs the stairs after you, walking you right to your door. You unlock the door after some struggle and a bit of a push, Doyoung’s grimace at your actions not going unnoticed by you. Once the door was finally open you turned back to face him.

“Thank you again for walking me home, I really appreciate it” you thank him again.

“It’s no problem. If ever you feel unsafe, call me and I’ll come get you. Or I’ll send someone to help you”

“You don’t have to do that. You are already doing so much for me”

“I do. I must protect my little helper. How else will I get what I’m owed” he jokes

You silently chuckle at his response.

“Okay.”

You didn’t know if he was expecting you to invite him in but you decided against it. The slower this went the better. Too fast and he may become suspecting. That and you had to do one final sweep of the place to make sure you had nothing that would make him suspicious of your true identity.

You were pretty sure you had got it all but you knew Doyoung was an observant man, ‘pretty sure’ was not going to cut it with him.

“Well goodnight” you go to walk into your apartment.

“Wait” his voice stops you.

You turn back to him.

“I have a task for you tomorrow”

You force a look of interest onto your face. Your face lights up at the thought of helping him.

“What is it?”

“I need you to come to a restaurant with me tomorrow evening”

“Do you own a restaurant or something?”

“Yes something like that” he smiles.

“Okay, my shift finishes at 5 tomorrow afternoon so text me the time and the place and I will be there.” you smile at him

He returns your smile.

He bids you goodnight as you enter your apartment and shut the door behind you. As you take off your shoes and hang up your coat, you hear him loiter by the door for a few seconds before disappearing.

Doyoung’s POV

Once he was around the corner from your apartment he took out his phone and dialed Chenle’s number.

“Well done Chenle”

“Thanks, but why did I have to follow her like some crazy stalker, has she done something to the gang”

“I can’t tell you”

“Are we going to take her out?” Chenle asked a little too hopefully for his liking.

“No definitely not.”

“Hang on...Is this who you were on the phone with last week?” he asks excitedly.

He pauses for a second. “...No”

Chenle’s laughter filled the line. “The pause told me everything. Wait till I tell Jisung you’re following a girl around” he teases.

“You will do nothing of the sort” Doyoung commands sternly. “I asked you to do this because I don’t want the gang involved”

“But I am part of the gang”

“You are still a trainee”

“The dreamies are still part of the gang. By your logic that means Jisung isn’t part of the gang which means I can tell him.” Doyoung could hear the snarky smile on Chenle’s face.

Deep down Doyoung cared about “the dreamies”. While he didn’t know why they chose a name that sounded so fluffy in comparison to the line of business they were in, it didn’t change the fact he still thought of them as his little brothers. However, they all still had a lot to learn before they would be trusted with the kind of jobs Doyoung and the other senior members handled.

“Chenle..” he warns

“I know, I know. It was just a joke, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good, I may need your help again later”

“Okay. I have to go now, thanks to your little side mission I’m late to target practice. Taeil will kill me”

Doyoung rolls his eyes as Chenle hangs up the phone.

I can’t help but smile as I walk back towards the convenience store to retrieve my car knowing she would be having dinner with me tomorrow evening.

She may not know that yet, but I hope it will be a nice surprise for her.

Part of me felt bad for having Chenle follow her. It was concerning how obvious he had to be for her to realize something was wrong. If it had been someone with genuinely bad intentions I fear she would have become another statistic we would hear on the news in the morning. If anything it fueled my need to protect her.

I don’t know what it is about her that intrigues me so much. At first I thought it was just because she looked too innocent and I felt bad that life had dealt her a shit hand.

She hardly knows me but I was the first person she called for help and then even apologised for it. I’ve never met anyone like her before. She is a breath of fresh air from the polluted industry I have found myself in.

The reasonable part of me wants to push her as far away as possible from my lifestyle, but the selfish part wants to pull her close to me and never let go.

I am usually a reasonable man, but now I’m not so sure.

#mafia doyoung #doyoung au #mafia nct #doyoung imagines #nct au #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 au #mafia nct 127 #nct fluff #nct angst

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my-arlington-academia · 4 years ago

Text

Tadaxel fic for Tadashi’s birthday! 👔🤝😳

And I OOP- I did it. Sorry. No actually I’m not, it was a nice change of pace to write this. I think I might do more CharacterXCharacter fics from now on! I was getting a ’lil bit tired of always doing Main10XScholar fics. Don’t get me wrong though, I love Scholar! I just needed to change it up a bit. (And like promised Olivier is in it too whoops.) This fic is almost 3k words long! ...God, what am I doing with my life? Anyways, have a nice read! 💗💖

---------------------------------

Autumn was starting. The days were getting slightly shorter as time went on and the weather colder and colder. Knowing his friends, Tadashi had warned them about one thing.

”Don’t plan a birthday party for me. I don’t have enough time to celebrate it this year.”

Homework and ”student-body-president-duties” were kicking in so the *one* area from which Tadashi decided to take time away from was his birthday. Everyone found that line of reasoning ridiculous. He always had time for others and for work but never for himself. It was almost as if he loved suffering. The worst part of it was that his birthday conveniently fell on a Saturday this year. It was the perfect moment to celebrate it, Ellie especially was jealous of how lucky Tadashi got and yet he still decided to ”CaNcEL” his birthday. Ellie didn’t have that luxury, her birthday was always during the exam period of the year: in June.

Alistair tried his best to dissuade him and get him away from his desk, the place where he spent most of his day. His BIRTHday. Tadashi didn’t budge. Only when the sunset was setting did he finally decide to step back. Time went so quickly and all he did was working on assignments. He had one last thing left for the day: go shopping. Something that he had ever rarely done thus far. It was about time to learn how to, until now Tadashi was always sent ”shopping” with a butler to ”help him” choose. In reality, all Tadashi did was try on the clothes they ordered him to wear. In the end, all he had for his casual wear was white shirts, ties, dark colored pants and mostly brown shoes. Even if he won’t celebrate his birthday with his friends, he still wants to go out and buy something for himself. More precisely: a set of clothes that wasn’t dictated by his father.

Since a while back, Tadashi always felt like there was a disparity between his taste and those of his classmates. His casual clothes didn’t even look all that ”casual.” When he would go out with his friends, he looked like a coworker taking a break with his colleagues. But last week, reality had slapped Tadashi in the face: he can dress how he wants to. Or more accurately, Olivier had slapped him in the face with this revelation. He was having a conversation with him about the fashion department for some reason, then, Olivier took off his cat mask and looked at Tadashi straight in the eyes. He said:

”Tadashi. You’re free now. You can dress however you want to so please do it. I’m begging you.”

Tadashi was confused. This was coming from a guy who wore a black suit all the time instead of the school uniform. Actually, Tadashi was pretty sure that this was the very first time he saw Olivier’s face. He looked ugly but in a really cute way, he was like slightly above average with a sprinkle of misplaced handsomeness here and there. It was as if God didn’t really know what to do with him and used the ”random traits” button. Anyway, Tadashi wondered how he was a senior and yet Olivier, who was supposed to be one year above him, was still coming to school. So instead of answering what he was asked, Tadashi used his remaining braincells to try and get a response to his urgent question.

”How come you’re still here? Did you get held back a year or...?”

Olivier covered his face with the mask again and closed Tadashi’s mouth with the palm of his hand.

”Sssshhhh. Listen. I’ll only tell you this because I blindly believe that you won’t ditch on me but... I’m actually not a student here. I’ve never been. In reality, I’m a programmer in my twenties. My hobby is to pretend to be a teenager in Arlington, Lady A owes a big debt to my family so she can’t do anything about my presence here. All you have to do is to not tell anyone, okay? If the students find out, I’ll be kicked out for sure. But as far as they know I’m just a weird student who’s been held back in my senior year for 2 years in a row. There will come a day when I won’t be able to fool them anymore but for now, please just play along.”

”Okay.”

After that day, Tadashi pondered a lot about what Olivier had told him...

...

......

.........

”You can dress however you want.”

Yes. That was the one truly important thing he had taken away from this conversation. Thank you Olivier for your wisdom. Tadashi had made up his mind: the day of his birthday he’ll go shopping alone. And that’s what he did.

The curfew was in about 2 hours, in normal circumstances, the custodians didn’t have the right to let the students go out so late... however, if Tadashi had learned *one* thing from his family, it was the use of Privileges™. So using his ”I’m the student body president” card, he managed to step out from the school grounds and promised to come back as soon as he could.

He decided to go check out the most basic stores first just for curiosity’s sake, such as: H&N, Sike, Levy’s, Kalvin Clein, Badidas, etc. Until last year, all he would get was tailored suits and other ”professional” bullshit a teenager shouldn’t have to wear. Now he was finally free to go wherever he wanted, and it’s in the middle of those shops that he came across the one person in front of which he didn’t want to look stupid. A black hoodie on and his hair in a ponytail, he was looking straight at Tadashi.

”...What are you doing here?”

Tadashi instinctively switched to his "fake offended" look.

”Um. Shopping? Like you are?”

Axel glanced at the salmon pink shorts Tadashi was holding, not at all convinced by his try-hard witty remark.

”Oh? So uh, were you aware that it’s fall already or are you buying your summer clothes in advance? ’Cause those pink shorts ain’t gonna cut it to keep you warm buddy.”

Tadashi looked down at this random piece of clothing he was holding and hurriedly put it back while averting Axel’s gaze. He had already made a fool of himself from the very start of their encounter. Seeing that he was clearly embarrassed from the mocking comment, Axel dropped the act.

”No but seriously, why are you shopping alone at this hour? It’s your birthday, go have fun with your friends.”

Thinking about it now, from an outsider’s perspective his actions must look pretty dumb. Begging your friends to not celebrate your birthday, working all day then going shopping alone in the evening for some reason? Every single one of his decisions made sense in his mind but not in the eyes of others. In the end, he had worked himself to exhaustion all day, then he went shopping alone at the brink of the night. Understandably, his actions didn’t seem to make any sense.

”I... I wanted to buy some clothes by myself without the help of anyone else.”

Axel’s confused face turned to bewilderment the moment Tadashi uttered those words.

”*What?* Dude, you sound like you’re twelve. Come on, it’s not like it’s your first time choosing your clothes for your... self... Oh boy. Don’t tell me...”

At Axel’s realization, Tadashi looked down in shame hoping that this moment would come to pass as quickly as possible. That’s right, just make fun of me and get over with it. But instead of mockery or a mean joke, Tadashi felt a strong grip on his shoulders.

”Tadashit, listen. Even *I* can’t make fun of this. We have to fix this problem as soon as possible and we’ll definitely celebrate your birthday tomorrow, okay?”

Tadashi’s mind immediately rushed to all of the tasks he had to fulfill tomorrow.

”But-"

”Shush. No buts. I’m gonna help you buy two or three outfits, we’ll start from there. But eventually, you’ll have to replace all of your horrible wardrobe, okay?”

When Axel finally let go of his shoulders, he then grabbed Tadashi’s wrist and started dragging him out of the shop they were in. Tadashi was mildly fighting back, one part of him not wanting to get help from Axel of all people, another part of him curious of what kind of advice Axel could give him.

”H-hey! Where are you taking me?”

”To Never 21, hopefully they’ll have something that suits you Tadashit. Even if you’re planning on changing up your wardrobe, we’ll start with some really basic clothes though. For example, I feel like something simple and dignified would fit you, you get me?”

”Uh... what?”

Simple and dignified? What does that even mean?

Upon entering the shop, Axel finally let go of his wrist and started looking around in search of something ”simple and dignified.” Tadashi hesitantly followed him, not knowing what to do. He felt like a kid again, the kid who would stand next to the butlers and wait for their decision. That is until Axel picked up a light blue shirt and showed it to him.

”So what do you think of that one? It has a cute little logo on the chest pocket or... whatever those are called.”

”...You’re asking for my opinion?”

Tadashi’s face subtly lightened up as he remembered that this situation was not at all the same as before. He was shopping with a friend, not a butler who gets commands from his father.

”Duh. You’re the one who’s gonna wear this, not me. Frankly, I think that it’s still too tame but you don’t want to stray too far away from what you usually wear, right?”

”Hm. Actually. Can you dress me up in different styles? I want to see what fits me and what doesn’t. You seem much more well-versed in fashion than me, I think that I’ll really need your help.... Please?”

Thrown off by Tadashi’s honesty, Axel couldn’t even take a jab at him. In fact, being able to communicate with him without bickering was quite refreshing. Actually, it was about time for them to stop quarreling for every single thing.

"...Alright. Let’s do that. But just so you know, we’ll probably be late for the curfew. Oh. And you owe me.”

Like promised, Axel dressed Tadashi up in a lot of different outfits. Surprisingly, a lot of things fit him. Even the most unlikely styles, like the ”hippie style” weirdly enough. Or rather, ”bohemian” as Neha calls it.

”Huh. I was planning on making fun of you but you know what? You look good.”

Tadashi felt confused because of the unexpected, but genuine compliment he got. So all he could do was smile awkwardly while looking down at the floor again.

”You think? But I’m not a big fan of this... ”style” to be honest. I’d rather take the one I tried a bit earlier, the one with the pink-ish shirt.”

”Fair enough. Let’s buy that one then.”

Axel couldn’t help but notice that Tadashi may or may not secretly really like the color pink. Maybe it was a subconscious choice, but he would always pay attention to pink, yellow, and green colored clothes. Maybe because he never got a chance to wear bright colors before? He would always be in black and deep blues so he most likely yearned for more lively colors. Thinking about it now, it was obvious that his clothes were always dictated by his father’s tastes. Despite the fact that they used to fight a lot, especially last year, Axel felt a big amount of empathy towards Tadashi and quite a bit of respect for being able to stand up to his father after all of those years of getting manipulated.

At the counter, Axel impulsively decided to take out his credit card.

”I’ll pay for that.”

Tadashi looked up from his own wallet, surprised.

”Wait, really??”

”Mh-hm. It’s your birthday today and I didn’t really prepare anything so...”

The cashier folded the clothes, pu them in a bag and handed them to Axel. Axel in turn, handed the bag to Tadashi.

"There you go... Happy birthday, Tadashi.”

Even if he would never admit it, the sincerity in in Axel’s voice made Tadashi feel soft for half a second. His voice didn’t sound annoying when he wasn’t joking around and making stupid comments. Actually, this may have been the first time Tadashi realized that Axel had a pretty voice.

”Uhhh... Th-Thank uh. Thank you.”

What’s going on? Axel’s voice is pretty? No no no. It sounds annoying and condescending, not pretty. Absolutely not!

While Tadashi was having a crisis and fighting back against himself, Axel was already plannig on moving to the next shop. Like earlier, he tried to grab Tadashi’s wrist and drag him to their next destination. However, his aim was bit off as he did not look down before seizing his target. Tadashi was thrown off once again.

”Uh. Axel...? That’s my hand.”

Axel’s gaze finally went down to where he was grabbing. Seeing that it wasn't Tadashi’s sleeve but his hand, he immediately let go.

”Ah. Damn, sorry dude uhh... I didn’t mean to hold your um...”

The poor boys looked down in shame at their mistake, or rather ”aCcidEnTaL hAnD hoLdiNg.” Axel started feeling the same kind of emotional distress Tadashi was fighting against earlier. What’s happening? Why is it so awkward? If something like this happened at school, they would already be in the middle of cursing at eachother.

”Um. Anyway! Just follow me, okay? I shouldn’t even need to drag you in the first place. Let’s go.”

They tried to ignore that incident as best as they could and moved on to the next shop. In the end, they bought more than 3 outfits. Even Axel picked up some things for himself with Tadashi’s help. Everything was going well until they looked at their phones, remembering the thing they had forgotten.

”Ugh. Shit. Dashi, it’s already 5 minutes past our curfew. But you’ll cover for me, right?”

”Dude, of cour- Wait. Did you just call me Dashi?”

Axel’s mind had clocked out entirely. He looked at his right, desperately trying to look unconcerned.

”Uh. No?”

”... Yes.”

”...”

Axel couldn’t ignore Tadashi’s pressuring gaze. His grey eyes were really convincing when needed.

”Okay fine. But it was only because Raquel often calls you that.”

Satisfied of his win, Tadashi started walking on ahead towards the nearest restaurant with a little smirk on his face.

”Uh-huh. Sure, Axel.”

”Hey! Don’t give me that all-knowing look! Or else I’ll go back to calling you Tadashit.”

”Oh please, you’ll do that tomorrow whether I want it or not.”

Tadashi passed the door and sat down next to a window, followed closely by Axel.

”Dude, didn’t you hear what I just said? It’s past our curfew, we’re already late and instead of hurrying back you sit down in a restaurant?”

Waiting for an answer, Axel stood there dumbfounded as Tadashi gently shot a smile at him and placed his wallet on the table, already waiting for the the waiter.

”Sit down, I’m treating you for your help today... Thank you, Axel. Really.”

Axel’s annoyance was short lived. He really couldn’t do anything in front of this guy’s demanding look. Is that how he always gets everyone’s favors? By looking people in the eye and smiling? As much as he hated it, Axel was starting to understand how Tadashi was so convincing: it was his stupid, dumb, frustrating... pretty grey eyes. Screw him and his ”I know what I want and I’ll get it” look. Screw the curfew, the custodians, all the people who always got fooled by this gaze. But most of all, screw himself for getting tricked too. Goddammit.

Axel sat down with a slight blush on his face that he was trying to hide under his hand as he placed his mouth on his palm.

”You’re welcome. But fuck you.”

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Annnnnd done! I think this one was pretty fun! Not only to write but to read too. Please tell me what you think! I miss the funny comments you guys always left tbh 😂 My favorite part was the aCcidEnTaL hAnD hoLdiNg. Thank you for reading 💗💖

#sweet elite #se #tadashi nakano #axel #fanfics #fanfiction #birthday #tadaxel #yes I’m late again #but at least it’s only a couple of days this time!

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chickensarentcheap · 5 years ago

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Sanctuary - Chapter 61

AUTHOR’S NOTE: SECOND LAST CHAPTER! EEEEEK! I’VE ALREADY BEGUN THE THIRD AND FINAL INSTALMENT OF TYLER/ESME SO LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED ;)

WARNINGS: none

TAGGING: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @thunderintheshadows, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @valkyrie-of-the-light

He can’t remember the last time he woke up like this; gradually, instead of bolting awake because of a nightmare or even the smallest of noises and the slightest of movements. Eyes slowly flickering open, taking in the brilliant sunshine that streams through the curtains; a slight breeze tumbling through the window and fluttering the thin fabric. He’d managed an entire night’s sleep. Worn out by jet lag and the multiple emotional meltdowns and their love making; once in the kitchen, again in the living room, and then their final session in the bedroom. The pain is there. It’s always there. And he suspects it will be for the rest of his life. It, along with the various scars that mar his body, the memories of his previous life that he’s burdened to carry forever.

Still on his stomach, Tyler reaches blindly for his cellphone that rests on the table next to his side of the bed, using the heel of his other palm to clear sleep from his eyes as he checks the time.

6:28.

It’s actually late for him. For five and a half years he’s been getting up at the crack of dawn; accepting his role as the one that wakes with whatever baby when they decided it was time for a change and a bottle. It made him feel useful; that he wasn’t just the one responsible for putting in half of the DNA needed to create a life in the first place. So he’d happily and willing taken that on. Enjoying those quiet moments that he shared just between him and his child. Children, in the twins’ case. Often sitting out on the front porch or on the back deck with them cradled against him; enjoying the way those tiny bodies snuggled into him, how all of their fingers would curl around one of his as he fed them their bottle, those bright blue eyes never leaving his the entire time. Pure, beautiful moments that he’d never felt as if he’d deserved. Especially after the horrible decision he’d made when Austin was so sick. It was something he’d thought he’d pay for for the rest of his life; karma either sending him to an early grave or allowing him to escape death time and time again in favour or living with profound guilt and self hate. But then he’d met Esme, and everything changed. He changed. Starting with those five days in a dirty hotel room in Dhaka.

He quickly checks for texts. It’s an old habit; used to either being woken up in the middle of the night or being finding missed messages. Something was always happening; problems with other missions that Nik wanted his input on, a job that she needed him to do, or when she’d been into the wine and she’d send him her many propositions, filthy suggestions, and…once or twice…half naked photos of herself. Constantly flooding his inbox with her bullshit; despite the four kids and the wedding band on his finger and telling her time and time again that he’d never…in a million years…cheat on his wife. The one person that loved him unconditionally, despite all of his bullshit. Who he loved in the exact same fashion. A woman that had come into his life when he least expected and altered everything. That stuck by him during even the most difficult and trying of times, and who not only had given him everything of herself that she possibly had, but a chance at a normal life.

Nothing from Nik. Or Yaz. They’ve gone silent and he’s grateful for that. He needs time; time to deal with all of the bullshit going on in his head, time to let go of everything in the past that’s been weighing him down and threatening to destroy not only him, but his marriage. His body and mind need rest, and he was certain that neither of them…especially Nik…would be willing to let that happen. They felt he owed them answers; an explanation as to why he just gave up and walked away. He felt he owed them shit. Weren’t years of blood, sweat, and tears enough? Hadn’t he already paid his debts? Wasn’t nearly dying in Dhaka a big enough price to pay?

There’s two messages. Both from Ovi. The first is a picture of the kids gathered around…and on top of…their uncle Kyle in the middle of his brother in law’s living room floor. He’d created a makeshift sleeping area with a blow-up mattress and all of the cushions from the couch, and all of them -including Kyle himself- were fast asleep. The second is a text itself; one that brings tears to Tyler’s eyes. Heartfelt and poignant. That once teen now a man just putting his heart out there. Telling him how grateful he was that fate had brought them together. That they’d been strangers but now they were family. A family that he loves and is proud of and never wants to let go. How Tyler doesn’t think he’s brave, but he’s the bravest person Ovi has ever known.

You have to do battle with your own head every day. And you always beat it. That’s courage. That’s brave.

It takes him several minutes to compose himself; to be able to see the screen in order to compose a message in response. Just a simple thank you. And a ‘I’ll see you soon, mate’. Ovi won’t expect anything else; he knows Tyler is a man of few words. Especially in emotional situations.

Putting the cell phone back on the table, he rolls over onto his back; grimacing at the tightness in the middle of his spine and at the pain that take erupts in his shoulder and travels down all the way to his fingers. And he closes his eyes, a forearm across his brow, attempting to will the pain away instead of having to actually get up and get some meds; content in the warm confines of his bed…their bed. With that warm, soft body sleeping next him.

She stirs, rolling over onto her side, sliding closer to him and laying a hand on his stomach. “What’s wrong?” she mumbles, eyes never opening

“Nothing’s wrong. Ovi just sent me a couple text messages that I didn’t get until this morning.”

“That’s because I kept you too busy to look at you phone,” she says, and then gives a sleepy giggle. “I told you I was crazy hormonal.”

“I am not complaining,” he grins, and remove his forearm from his eyes and lays his hand on the top of her head; slowly running his palm over her hair, down onto the nape of her neck and to the spot between her shoulders. “Think we can keep things crazy hormonal in a good way? Because sometimes…”

“I go batshit insane?”

“Well, I was going to say sometimes you’re a little off the rails. But if you prefer batshit insane…”

“Do ever wonder who came up with that saying? Who decided that batshit was the insane? How does someone go about discovering something like that?”

“Babe, our brains do not work in the same way. Because no. I’ve never once wondered that. Do you just have all these wild, weird things running free in that pretty little head of yours? Because I’d love to be able to get in there for just one day and see what’s going on in that mind.”

“Trust me, you do not want to know,” she laughs, and moves even closer to her. Tucking herself under his arm, presses tightly against his side. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven.”

She groans. “What is wrong with you? Why are you up so early? You’re retired now. You can sleep all damn day if you want. There’s no kids here, no dog, it’s quiet, it’s relaxing. There’s no need to be up this early.”

“Force of habit,” he reasons, and drops a kiss on the top of her head.

“A lot of habits are going to change,” she says, eyes closed as her fingers trace the tattoos and scars that decorate his body. She doesn’t have to look, every location and every inch of each long ago memorized. “Maybe you will get fat and lazy.”

He grins. “You still gonna stick around if that happens?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily and you know it. It would take a lot more than you getting fat and lazy. But we both know that’s likely not going to happen because you…” her fingers move along his throat; over his Adam’s apple and up onto the underside of his chin, tugging lightly at his beard. “… can’t sit still for more than five minutes. We’re going to have to find lots of things for you to do. So you don’t start getting that itch and wind up back doing what you did before.”

Tyler knows she’s worried about it; that he’ll get bored with a ‘normal’ life. That domesticity and the routines it comes with won’t be enough to keep his hands and his mind busy. And maybe it will. Maybe one day he’ll wake up and miss what he used to do. Maybe he will feel that itch to get back into something more exciting and dangerous. But he won’t let himself wander back down that path. There’s just way too much to lose.

“Not going to happen,” he assures her. “I’ll find something. There’s got to be lots to do with fifteen acres. The house doesn’t need work but there’s other things I can find I’m sure. Something I can get the kid into. It’s going to be hard on him. Twice we’ve uprooted him.”

“First of all, you have to remember that Ovi is not a kid anymore. He’s a man, Tyler. With a girlfriend that is moving in with him. And I know it’s hard to believe and it’s even harder to accept. I have a hard time with it. That he’s not the same Ovi that we brought back here with us. Second, he’s tough. Tougher than anyone gives him credit for. Look at what he went through in Dhaka. He was only fourteen then and that could have easily destroyed him. He stepped up. When you asked him to take the kids and take off. And he managed to keep them and Chloe safe. That is huge. That is a massive step for him, and I don’t know about you, but I’m crazy proud of him and I can’t wait to tell him that.”

“I’m proud of him too. He’s a good kid. A good man,” he corrects when she looks at him. “But he’s still Ovi. In my eyes.”

“Well one day Ovi is going to get married and have kids of his own and then what? He’s going to make us grandparents.”

Tyler frowns.

“Sobering thought isn’t it?” she laughs, her hands in his hair -or what’s left of it now-, palms rubbing against it. “It could happen nine months from now, for all we know.”

“It fucking better not. I don’t want to be a new father and a grandfather at the same time.”

“Especially when you’re going to have so many diapers to change.”

“You mean you’re going to have to grin and bear it when I decorate the nursery. Because it’s a girl.”

“It’s diaper duty for you. It’s a boy. Your track record speaks for itself. You’ve made three boys since making one girl. Think about it.”

“I have,” he curls an arm around her waist, effortlessly hoisting her on top of him, those soft breasts and those silky curves pressed against him. And he combs his fingers through her hair and kisses her forehead. “It’s a girl.”

“You’re going to be eating some humble pie when we found out otherwise.”

“I’d rather eat something else.”

“I could make us breakfast. Or you could take me out for something.”

He scowls. “I wasn’t talking about actual food.”

“Oh…” she pouts dramatically, eyes widening when she finally comprehends what he really means. “…oh…you mean that.”

“Yeah…” he grabs her by her hips and unceremoniously dumps her onto her back, a grin on his face as his hands rest on her thighs, gently pushing them open. “…I mean that.”

*****

It’s day three when the kids and Ovi return.

The afternoon and the evening before had been rough; a lot of anxiety, and near crippling depression accompanied by the guilt he was feeling over leaving the McMann kids’ lives in the hands of rookies. Triggered by a call from Nik that he’d let go to voicemail, followed by a simple text of: WE NEED TO TALK. And it had come out in the worst possible way: a lot of yelling and aggression and horrible, harsh words directed at the one person who didn’t deserve it.

Afterwards he’d felt even worse; disgusted with himself for the things he’d said to her. Yet she’d never retaliated; barely raising her voice, never responding with the thousand and one harsh things she could have thrown back at him, the expression on her face remaining stoic and solid. Yet he’d seen it in her eyes; the hurt he’d caused. That same look she’d had when he had sent her away with Saju and Ovi.

He’d apologized profusely, and she’d never pushed him away when he’d reached out to hold her and kiss her and stumble over his words as he tried to take back everything he’d said.

“This is going to happen,” she’d reasoned; so calm and strong and so willing to help him. “It’s all going to come out. It has to come out. This is just one of the ways it will.”

It had passed as quickly as it had come on. That calm and gentle way of hers soothing all the guilt and helping chase away the anxiety and take away the edge of the depression. But they’re always there; lingering just under the surface, eating away at him little by little, always threatening to explode and turn him into a monster. It’s his number one fear; that he’d become just like his old man. The job had given him an outlet for all of the hurt and anger that had taken root in him at a young age; constantly being reminded that he was a disappointment and that he’d never amount to anything or every be ‘good enough’, seeing his mother abused in every way possible. Now that outlet is gone. And while it needed to go, he fears that without it, he’ll turn into the one person he’d vowed he’d never be like.

Nik’s in the passenger seat of Kyle’s truck and Tyler sees the way she watches him; eyes narrowed, creases across her brow, lips set in a firm line. He knows she expects some kind of explanation from him; a reason why he’d just so abruptly walked away. And maybe he does owe her one. After all, they’ve been friends for a long time, and she’d always trusted him with even the most complex and dangerous of jobs. But he feels nothing when he sees her. No remorse that he’d cut those strings without warning her first, no connection to their friendship or anything sexual that had happened between them years ago.

“Daddy!” Millie is the first one out of the truck, not even taking her uncle’s offer of a helping hand as she leaps from the back seat and hits the ground running, tears already spilling down her cheeks. And he effortlessly scoops her up onto his arms before she can collide with his legs, a forearm under her bum and a hand on the back of her head; tiny arms curling around his neck. “Daddy…” she sobs, and he can feel those tears through his shirt. “…I knew you’d come home…I knew it…”

“I told you I would,” he presses a kiss to the side of her head, closing his eyes against the threat of his own tears. “I told you I’d come home.”

“I missed you, daddy. I missed you so bad it made my tummy hurt. And my heart. My heart lots and lots.”

“I missed you, Amelia,” It’s the first time he’s called her that in two years; since she decided she didn’t like her full name and wanted something more ‘fun’ and ‘kid like’. And he lets the tears come now; not caring who is there to see them. Kyle, Nik. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is the little girl clinging to him with all the strength and power she can muster up. “I missed you so much.”

“I don’t want you to go away ever again. It’s too scary when you go away. I don’t like when you leave. It makes me sad and I worry that I’ll never see you again.”

“I’m not going away ever again. There’s no more going away. I’m home now. For good. You don’t have to worry about me going away ever again.”

“Promise?” she sniffles and pulls back to look at him. “Promise you’ll never…ever…ever…go away again.”

“I promise.”

She holds his face in her hands. “You have ouchies again.”

“Nothing serious. And they’re going away. There’ll be no more ouchies again either. Ever.”

“Ever?”

He nods.

“I like your hair,” she says as an afterthought, giggling as she rubs her palms against it. “It feels funny. Why are you crying?”

“Happy crying,” he assures her, as little fingers work at clearing the droplets away. “Happy tears.”

“Daddy!” the twins cry in unison, and he moves Millie over onto his hip and crouches down as the boys come flying towards him; one arm reaching out to gather both of them into his embrace, pulling them tight against him. Once more letting those tears flow. It’s the longest he’s ever been away; two weeks was the record before. But it’s been nearly four. An entire month away from his kids. Nearly thirty days of not seeing them face to face. Of not reading bedtime stories and tucking them in. Of not being able to even hug them.

“Your hair is so cool!” TJ exclaims, as rubs his hands along his father’s head. He’s a tough kid; hiding a big, sensitive heart underneath a hard exterior. Tanner is the sensitive one; an old soul stuck in a little boy. And he holds onto his dad with all the strength inside of him; his face buried in the side of Tyler’s neck as he sobs, that small body shaking with the force it.

“It’s alright, mate,” Tyler kisses the side of his son’s head, rubs his back soothingly. “It’s alright now.”

“I was so scared,” Tanner’s voice is muffled against his father’s neck. “That I’d never see you again.”

“I told you I’d be home. That nothing could stop me from getting back to you guys. That there was no one out there that could keep me from you.”

“I missed you so much, daddy. I’m glad you’re home. Don’t go away again, okay? I don’t want you to away again.”

“I won’t,” he promises, and runs a hand over Tanner’s hair. “I won’t go away ever again. Why don’t you guys go and see mommy? I’ll be inside in a little bit, okay?”

He gets more hugs and kisses, and then all three run off; their footsteps loud on the wooden porch stairs as they make a made a dash for the front door.

“Look at this guy,” Kyle says, a broad grin on his face as he holds onto one of Declan’s hand, the baby strong on his legs, gait slightly wobbly. Eleven months old and already meeting such a huge milestone; a proud smile on his little face, blue eyes sparkling. “Just happened over night Esme said.”

It takes Tyler by surprise. And makes that month seem like it had lasted even longer. When he’d left that night, Declan was just learning how to pull himself up to a stand using the railing on his crib or the edge of the couch or someone’s legs. Now here he was, so close to walking on his own. And that emotion chokes at him once more as he gives a “look at you, mate, look at you” and then holds his hand out for his son to grab onto. Little fingers tightly grabbing onto one of his; confident that his dad won’t let him fall.

“She wanted it to be surprise,” Kyle says, as Tyler scoops Declan into his arms and stands up, running his fingers through that thick strawberry blond hair and peppering tiny cheeks with kisses. “She told me not to say anything.”

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever. I had a baby when I left and now, I have a toddler. It’s…surreal.”

Kyle nods in agreement.

“Thank you. For taking them. For giving Esme and I some time alone. We needed it. There were things we needed to talk about it. Without little ears around.”

“Nothing I wouldn’t do for my kid sister. Or you. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, and I said some things I shouldn’t have the other day. About what you do and how you handled things. But I know you love my sister. I can see that. In the same way I know you love your kids. I was just worried about her. That’s all. I know you can understand that.”

Tyler nods.

“But it wasn’t personal. Against you. It was just the situation. I just wanted you to know that. I was important to me that you know that.”

“I’d never do anything to hurt your sister. Ever. And it’s important to me that you know that. So…” he switches Declan from one hip to the other. “…you and Nik, huh?”

Kyle nods.

“You guys can come in if you want. Stay for dinner. We have tons of food and I know how much you like to get on the grill.”

Kyle rubs at the back of his head. “You think that’s a good idea? I mean, Esme and Nik don’t actually get along and my sister did say you wanted to put everything behind you. I just assumed that means everyone, too.”

“It does. Which is why I think you guys need to come in. Might be the last time we ever all get a chance to be together. We’ll be leaving soon, so…”

“I just don’t want it to be awkward.”

“I promise I won’t let Esme throw down with Nik. I can’t let my pregnant wife beat the hell out of someone. Even though she’s probably fully capable of doing it. Besides, I think there’s some things that need to be said. Before I can actually move on. So humour me, yeah?”

“And you promise no cat fights? As entertaining as it might be?

“I promise,” Tyler grins and then turns to towards the house. “Just a heads up though, if you want beer, better go and get your own. We don’t do that here anymore.”

****

“There’s some things I need to say,” Tyler begins, as he and Nik sit on the top step of the back deck; watching as Kyle and Ovi entertains the oldest kids in the pool, Esme in the house putting the baby down for a nap. “And I need you to just keep quiet and let me say them.”

She blinks at the tone of his voice; quiet, all business. Then nods for him to continue.

“I don’t owe you anything, Nik. I’ve given you enough over the years, especially over the past five and a half. I let you come between me and my family. I let you get into my head and convince me that I couldn’t properly take care of them and provide for them without doing the job. That it somehow made me a lesser man because I wasn’t out there killing people. And if I’d been even half the man I was before Dhaka, I never would have let any of that happen. I would have told you to go fuck yourself and you know that.”

She nods.

“But I realize that I can’t move on if I don’t give you an explanation. Because I need to let go of the past and if I don’t saythe things I need to, it’ll bug me for the rest of my life. I’ll never be able to rest…truly rest…if I don’t let it all go. I’m done, Nik. With everything. I’m done with that life. With the job. With everything and everyone that comes with it. I realized I wasn’t the guy who could get those kids out. Not with where my brain is. I was more of a danger to them than anything else. Because I wouldn’t have been able to focus or get my head on straight and that would have been a total disaster and you know it.”

“I do,” she agrees.

“I’m not in a good place. Mentally. I haven’t been in a good place in a long time. And I should have walked away when Esme had the twins and Tanner was in the hospital and we didn’t know if he was going to make it or not. That should have been the end. I should have told you to fuck off as soon as you called me. He was a week old and we didn’t even know if he was going make it to two weeks and I let you suck me right back in. I abandoned my wife when she needed me the most. I abandoned my son. Who could have died. And you know what’s worse? You knew how bad things were and you knew they needed me, and you still didn’t leave me alone.”

“Tyler, I…”

“You never could leave me alone. You just kept coming back and calling me and text me and emailing me. You didn’t give a shit that my baby was in the hospital and might not even make it. You didn’t give a shit that Esme needed me. You knew I wouldn’t say no. As soon as you pulled that ‘you need the money to take care of them properly’ bullshit. You knew that that’s what would get me back out there. Whether it would kill me or not. How fucking dare you? How fucking dare you disrespect my wife and my kids like that. Put that shit in my head and take me away from them.”

“I never meant to…”

“I’m done. For good. I can’t do that life anymore. I don’t want to be that person any longer. I want to be a husband. I want to be a father. Those are the only two things that matter now. And I want you to accept that. After tonight, I want you to walk away and forget you ever knew me. Lose my phone number. Lose my email. Pretend I never existed. He’s gone, Nik. That Tyler’s gone and he’s never coming back. No matter how hard you try.”

“And you’ll be happy? Not being that Tyler anymore?”

“I just want to be normal. I want to wake up every morning beside the love of my life. I want to make my kids breakfast and take them to school. I want to watch them grow up. See them get married and have babies of their own. I want to grow old alongside of my wife. That’s the life I want. That’s the Tyler I want to be. And you need to accept that. I’m done, Nik. We’re done.”

“And when you get bored…?” she presses.

“I’m done,” he forcibly stresses. “This is it. When you walk out of here tonight, I don’t want you contacting me ever again. And I don’t just mean for the job, either. Don’t sit there and pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about. That you haven’t spent the last five and a half years trying to get me to cheat on my wife.”

She shifts uncomfortably beside him.

“I don’t care what happened between us in the past. It was never going to be what you wanted it to be. I told you that right from the beginning. What I have with Esme? We were never going to have that, Nik. I never wanted that with you. I never wanted it at all. Until I met Esme. And I’m sorry if you can’t handle hearing that. But it’s the truth. And I’m sorry if you feel that I used you or lead you on, because that was not my intention. We were in agreement; it was just sex.”

“It was,” she says. “Until it wasn’t.”

“Until it wasn’t for you, you mean. Because that’s all it was for me. And I know what you think; you think I only asked Esme to marry me because she found out she was pregnant with Millie. But that’s not what happened. I was in love with her. I wanted to be with her. And our kid. I didn’t marry her because I felt obligated to do it. I married her because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And if you can’t get that through your head…” he shrugs. “…I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Tyler…” she reaches for her, attempting to lay a hand on his thigh.

“Don’t,” he warns, and moves away. “Just don’t. My kids are here. My wife is right inside. Just don’t.”

She holds her hands up in surrender.

“You need to leave me alone. You need to stop trying to come between Esme and me. I’m never going to cheat on her. Ever. She’s the only woman I want to be with. And you’ve got a good guy there,” he nods in Kyle’s direction. “He’s a really good guy and you need to give him a chance. Let yourself be happy for once, Nik”

“It’s hard,” she sighs. “Letting go. I get the feeling this will be the last time we ever see each other. The last time I ever talk to you.”

He gives a small smile. “That’s the plan.”

******

“You know what the first thing is we need to buy when we get to Australia?” Esme asks hours, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tyler looks over at her; loving the way the moonlight bathes her smooth skin in almost silvery glow. “What’s that?”

“A bigger bed.”

He chuckles and looks down at the tiny bodies curled up contently beside him. And on top of him. Tanner fast asleep on his stomach; stretched out along his father’s torso with his head tucked under his chin. Millie tucked under one arm and TJ under the other, his hands on their backs and their faces pressed into his ribs. Declan still awake; sitting between his parents, gently grabbing and yanking at a complacent Mac’s fur as the dog rests in front of him. The kids had insisted on sleeping in the ‘big bed’; not wanting to be away from their dad for a single moment. Scared that they’d open their eyes and he’d be gone again.

“One of those double king-sized ones,” she muses. “Or maybe one that takes up half the room. That can be your first project. You can build it.”

He nods. “I could do that. Where do we find a mattress to fit it?”

“I’m sure there’s a place in Australia we could find them at. Or we can just look on the internet. You can buy everything on the internet. And you know what the best thing about having a bed that big would be?”

“I do not want the kids sleeping with us for the next eighteen years, so if that’s what you’re going to say…”

“Actually…” she reaches out to rub the top of his head. “…I was going to say that I love having a large playground.”

He grins and gives her a wink.

“Nik seemed to be in a mood when her and Kyle left,” she says, as she attempts to wrangle Declan onto his back. “What did you do? Turn down a blow job?”

“Why do I need any from her when I get enough from you?”

“Maybe you like variety, I don’t know.”

“The only one I want to be getting blow jobs from is you, so…” he lays a hand on the small of her back. “…stop.”

“You must have done something. Or said something. She looked like she was ready to throat punch you. Ughhh, child…” she groans, as Declan gets up into a sit once more. “….do you have to be so stubborn? Do you have to be so much like your father?”

“You say it like it’s bad thing,”

“Sometimes it is. Sometimes he does things that make me want to drink. Like right now,” she sits up and scoops the baby up into her arms, settling him against her chest; one arm under his head, the other supporting his legs. “And he’s so long and he’s so solid, oh my god.”

“He’s going to be a tank. Probably taller than me. And heavier. You never told me. That he was walking. I mean, not on his own, but with help.”

“I wanted it to be a surprised. There’s been so much bad things happened that I wanted there to be something good for you when you got home.”

He smiles and runs his hand up her back, gently squeezing her shoulder. “Thank you.”

She merely winks at him in response.

“You’re a pretty good wife, you know that? I could spend the next forty years with you. Easily.”

“Yeah?” she grins. “Well I think I can handle a life sentence with the likes of you.”

He smiles, then trails his fingertips down her arm and over her wrist, taking her hand in his hand. “You won’t have to worry about Nik anymore,” he says. “I handled it.”

“You mean just about the job or….”

“About the job. And us. I told her she’s been trying to screw things up for five and a half years and I was tired of it. That whatever she wants from me is never going to happen. That I just want to be a husband and a father. That’s what I want to do with my life. Be with you and the kids. And if that’s all I do for the next forty or fifty years, then so be it. I’ll die a happy man.”

She raises their join hands to her lips and presses a kiss to the top of his life. “You’re a good man, Tyler Rake.”

“Yeah?” he tightens his hold on her hand. “Only because you make me want to be.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #sanctuary #chris hemsworth character

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greenwaterskeeter · 4 years ago

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i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

#by auti #hopefully this is something good for someone :)#long post #yikes i hope this isn't just me rubbing it in that i hit the jackpot #idk i feel good about it so i'm posting it #please watch dr. gabor mate btw #that's part of this #and the untamed is part of it too #i still have problems lol don't get the wrong idea #but still everything's different now #the euphoria has worn off a bit but #it's like... it's like i'm meditating all the time?#it's not painful to be present is what i mean #i have the distinct feeling of being un-nerfed #feel free to rb!#although adding commentary might be weird #still i can imagine certain kinds that might not be so. your call!

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liighter · 5 years ago

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『BOOBOO STEWART ❙ CISMALE』 ⟿ looks like SAGE FRATER is here for HIS SOPHOMORE year as an ENVIRONMENTAL SCIENCE student. HE is 23 years old & known to be OPEN-MINDED, GENEROUS, LAZY & UNACCOUNTABLE. They’re living in GORHAM, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ amanda. 22. mst. she/her.

hey howdy hey i almost started this off with caps lock on and that’s the energy i emit yeet. i’m just gonna get into it ok thanks

trigger warning: alcohol

ok real quick ooc info. i’m amanda, i’m 22, i’ve been rping for like 10 years or smth??? a hot minute. i’m an astrology bitch (leo/scorpio/capricorn) and i’m v easygoing and smoke a lot of weed. feel free to hit me up in the dms or on discord. also if u guys like this post i’m going to attack u for plots

NAME: sage horatio frater AGE: 23 BIRTH DATE: january 23rd 1996 ZODIAC: aquarius sun, pisces moon SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual SOCIAL CLASS: lower middle HOMETOWN: phoenix, arizona EDUCATION LEVEL: sophomore studying environmental science FACE CLAIM: booboo stewart ADDICTION(S): walks the line of alcohol abuse DRUG USE: smokes weed daily, enjoys uppers but cant afford them ALCOHOL USE: excessive POSITIVE TRAITS: flexible, generous, supportive, open-minded NEGATIVE TRAITS: disorderly, unaccountable, inconsistent, lazy LIKES: driving fast, mexican food, necklaces, blue curacao, DISLIKES: formalwear, romance movies, reading, haircuts

sage is 24, an aquarius with a pisces moon. very boyish personality. kind of a loser who needs to get his shit together rather desperately. holds himself to very low standards, but therefore holds everyone else to them as well.

v easy to befriend, especially if you’ll cut him some slack. he’s that guy in high school who didn’t have a ton of friends, but everyone still kind of knew him? he’s genuinely TOO loyal for his own good, and it takes a lot for him to dislike people.

fucking LOVES animals. and plants. not the type who says he’s “better with animals than people” or anything, but he does find true joy in them. wishes he could fuck off and live in a forest and have like 30 different animals. or maybe a ranch.

also quite the chef but that’s reserved for his real friends. the typa mf whose friends send him recipes or post them on his fb and stuff.

tries to play the guitar but cannot

developing a drinking problem. in fact it’s already past development, but he’d never admit it. he’s probably in denial

does NOT drive, due to a handful of dui’s. had to sell his own car, but sometimes borrows other people despite not having a license anymore. otherwise just catches rides from his friends or walks places.

really cannot afford to go to school and is racking up a ridiculous amount of debt because of it. aka why he’s only a sophomore. at some point he’ll probably do something sketchy for money, if he hasn’t already :~/

WANTED CONNECTIONS

- ex girlfriend(s) — they probably wouldn’t have lasted long, got sick of his shit pretty quickly. he would’ve been a decent boyfriend but he had a hard time conceptualizing a future with anyone. we can elaborate on this

- “we made out once when we were drunk but i don’t remember it” awkwardness

- god i fucking LOVE unrequited plots please just give me pining that isn’t mutual, i think its so funny. either someone that he’s constantly hitting on to no avail, or someone he doesn’t know how he feels about but is really interested in him.

- someone he owes money and tries to avoid

- roomate(s) !!!!!!!!! he lives in gorham and would probably be terrible to live with, i wont lie.

- fwb(s) dude i imagine sage to be so fun to hook up with. the kind of guy who would make u laugh sm during sex.

- someone he’s drunkenly gotten into fights with

- a fucking best friend pleaseeeee

- i’m going to be reblogging more ideas in this tag

#ok i am not fucking proofreading this #radintro #pls hmu

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oliversaluki · 4 years ago

Text

Friend Like Me

You only turn Fourteen Once. Taking a look at Ollie and the gang and how they celebrated his last birthday with everyone in New York before everything changed.

July 23, 2000.

This was Oliver Twistes Birthday. But it wasn’t Oliver Twiste’s. But could you blame a four year old for not remembering his birthday. You probably couldn’t even remember your Mother’s face when you were four. Not enough to recall it after being abandoned in the middle of New York without a second thought.

So Little Oliver had a made up birthday.

Something that Rita and Dodger and Tito and everyone told him was important. A birthday was a day to celebrate Oliver’s life. A day to celebrate him in any way they could. And for them it wasn’t much.

But that was okay, whenever Ollie woke up on his birthday morning he expected hugs and maybe a cupcake or even a chocolate bar someone had lifted during the grocery store run. It didn’t matter as long as Ollie woke up and everyone he loved was with him.

And as Ollie woke up on this 14th birthday that’s exactly how it started. When he walked out everyone was there huddled around a small coffee table singing him happy birthday.

Ollie happily plopped himself at the head of the table as they all sang. He never needed anything more than this. Ollie loved everyone in this room more than he could ever communicate. And as long as Roscoe and DeSoto didn’t show up today then everything would be even better.

As soon as the singing stopped everyone rushed forward landing on top of the kid. Someone was messing with his hair, someone else was trying to tickle him and Ollie’s laughter rang out through the small apartment. Through the walls that were too thin as their neighbour banged on the wall to tell them to shut up.

In unison everyone yelled back a fuck up to them sending Ollie back to the ground in a fit of giggles.

“You’re not old enough to swear.”

“Who told you what the word Fuck meant.”

“Dodger are you teaching Ollie bad things again.”

“Why are you blaming me?”

“I’m 14 now! I can swear too especially at mean people telling me to shut up on my birthday!” Ollie teased lifting his voice so he knew the neighbour could hear him.

“I DON”T CARE IF IT”S YOUR BIRTHDAY NOW SHUT UP.”

Ollie pouted at the man yelled back. “Fine I guess it doesn’t help.”

Everyone else grinned back at Ollie. How couldn’t they when he had perfected that pout years ago, using it to get out of all types of trouble before and apparently to get off scot free for swearing.

“Either way kid we’re taking yous out for the day. Save that pout for later. We’re doing some free running.” Ollie scrambled out of the dog pile as he looked over everyone settling on Rita who just sighed and nodded.

Words of course were spoken, something along the lines of keeping Ollie safe and bringing him back in one piece but Ollie didn’t listen instead tackling Rita in a hug. He wanted nothing more than to follow the footsteps of Dodger and Tito. Maybe too much to a fault but they were basically his brothers and what fourteen year old kid didn’t want to be like the people that he looked up too.

Rita was cool but she was a girl. And Ollie wanted male role models. After all he was a boy who wanted to do boy stuff. Not sing like here. Not that it was a girl thing but free running looked so cool. Whenever Dodger and Tito ended up on roofs looking over everything and everyone Ollie looked up at them with wide eyes wishing he was up their with them.

To get this chance.

Ollie wasn’t going to waste it.

“Thanks Mom!” Ollie kissed her cheek before running back into the room he shared with the others to pull street clothes falling over in his rush to get his pants on.

“I’M OKAY!” Ollie called out after he had scrambled up and out of the blanket that tripped him. The jeans were torn and the shirt was worn out but they were what Ollie feel the most comfortable. It wasn’t anything that they owed to Roscoe or his Dad. This was something that Ollie had stolen himself. He hadn’t put anyone in debt because of this.

His shoes though he didn’t have a chance to steal those. As young as all of them were and the stunts they pulled sometimes their shoes suffered way too much before they could even be handed down to him.

Not that Ollie minded if they were handed down. It was just something that one of his favourite people used. What was wrong with that?

Shoes on Ollie stood as tall as possible. He was a whole year older and he needed to act like it. He was cool, calm and collected. And then Tito’s arm wrapped around his shoulder messing up his hair and Ollie whined pretending to struggling.

“My hairrrrrrrr. I looked so cute though.”

“You had bedhead kid, I think Tito made it look better.”

Ollie pouted at the room huffing while they all laughed, his own smile threatening on his face.

“OKay fine I had a bed head and now it look better can we goooooooooooo.” Ollie whined even when Rita walked up and fixed his hair her hands softer than what Tito did and Ollie could now be certain his hair did look better compared to sticking up everywhere.

“Be safe. I want your cute nose back in one piece.” Rita booped his nose and Ollie grinned up at her.

“Okie dokie. I’ll make sure my nose comes back in one piece.” Ollie teased.

“I’m telling you that was taught by Dodger. Don’t blame us.”

Rita rolled her eyes kissing the top of his head as the three boys set off Ollie’s hands finding theirs and holding on tight. He couldn’t lose them in any crowd if he was holding onto them. Even if Ollie couldn’t see them anymore they would be right there within arms reach.

Adults were less likely to walk in between them, Ollie had noticed that too and as long as one of their dominate hands were free they could easily still lift a wallet or two and if Tito let go of Ollie’s hand to do so as long as Ollie was holding onto Dodger he was okay. Or vice versa depending on who’s left hand he was holding.

It didn’t even matter that it was first thing in the morning. New York was bustling. Tourists trying to get somewhere before it got crowded. Suits trying to get to their cubicle where they sat their whole lives to get a dollar.

Even on their birthday.

A future that wasn’t attainable to Ollie in the first place but one he didn’t want. He wanted to be out here. Exploring. Seeing the world. Ollie wanted to be with these boys. Ollie wanted to go old with them.

Ollie wanted to make them proud and he didn’t think becoming a suit and sitting at a desk all day would make them proud. Even when they pushed him to go to school and they forged all the paperwork so he could.

Now all the legal paperwork thanks to Roscoe. Not that he would thank him. He was mean and he hurt his friends and scared Ollie. He pushed him around especially when Ollie accidentally said things in his accent but it wasn’t his fault that Roscoe’s accent sucked so much that it stuck in his mind.

He didn’t like him.

Not the way he liked Dodger and Tito and Rita. Especially Rita. Ollie loved her. She was the one that raised the sun and hung the moon for him.

Neither of the older boys tried to lift anything instead just joking around nudge each other, Ollie swinging their hands as they walked. Forcing their way through the crowds and those that rushed. Even with their looks Ollie kept walking forward.

At an empty parking lot Ollie was exposed to his first time. Dodger and Tito showed off when Ollie finally let go of their hands. Jumping over railing and down steps. Climbing up trees onto to jump onto the second level of a car park.

Ollie was mesmerized looking at them. They could be like fairies with wings on their back just flying through the air. And Ollie wouldn’t know any different. Even when they fell and rolled to protect themselves Ollie thought they were the best.

How could anyone beat them?

How was Ollie to ever match up?

They told him what they did and how they did it. What they looked for but it was always a feeling for them. Training they had done for years and having fallen over and over and just getting back up time and time again.

Ollie started small trying to jump onto railings and running over them. Tripping only a few times. But keeping his nose intact.

A natural, they said. Looking back now Ollie was sure they were just being nice as he only jumped over a railing and around flower pots while they practiced climbing the car park and jumping down. Ollie had to get used to the jumping from a much lower level. But he had moved from starting on the rail and jumped and landing on the flower beds. Sometimes on the flowers. (Sorry flowers)

They continued like that until a whistle rang out. Ollie couldn’t even focus on the sound before Dodger grabbed his hand pulling him into a run. “Time to put some of that to the test, kid.”

Ollie followed holding onto Dodger’s hand trying to look back and see who was chasing them. But Dodger and Tito only looked forward so Ollie followed blindly. He only let go when Dodger gave him a smile. No one could run and jump with Ollie holding onto them.

Jumping down a few levels both boys stopped waiting for Ollie to make the jump down to them half catching him when he jumped barely giving it a second thought when he jumped. It they were there waiting for him he would be fine.

That simple jump was enough to stop the cop running after then and when they ducked into an alley looking around the corner for the officer they watched him curse at the stupid hill. Yelling out about how kids should be in school.

And sure they should but why be in school when it was his birthday! Considering how important they made it sound it was better to be together when they celebrated someones birthday.

“This is why all cops are stupid. They can’t even deal with a wall.”

“How can you trust them when they lose against a wall.”

Ollie grinned and giggled grabbing onto their hands again when he had regained some of his breath.

“No one tell Reets what just happened.”

“We’d never be able to take the kid back out.”

“My lips are sealed!” Ollie mimied his lips zipping close even with Dodger’s hand within his.

“Your lips are sealed. Nice.”

“We’ve still got some time.”

Glancing at the watch they had definitely lifted from some suit Ollie shrugged trusting them enough to know how to read the watch because Ollie sure as hell didn’t know how to tell time. This is why they had digital clocks all over the place.

“Well we could go get a chocolate bar or something.”

Ollie nodded at the suggestion. He could be part of his own chocolate bar heist. This was turning out to be even more fun than he expected.

They slipped into a big brand name store separately, each other them had a different pattern one where no one would run into one another until they were outside. Nothing to tie the three of them together. Watching their own tails. It was easier to run if only one got caught.

A distraction could be made without putting them at risk either.

Ollie didn’t have to worry about it. The store was quiet but that just meant less people were working. Slipping a chocolate bar each of his sleeves, Ollie didn’t take a second look back. He didn’t rush to the exit but instead made sure no one was looking at him as he wandered around before making his way out being the last one to the meeting spot. (Designed on purpose so he wouldn’t freak out waiting for them - one time that happened and Ollie had accidentally shut down for the rest of the day)

Holding up their spoils the boy grinned at the six bars. They would be having a great dessert tonight. None of them were the 99cent shit either. Go big or go home on a birthday after all.

Tucking the bars into their pocket Ollie took their extended hands again this time running through the crowds of people back to apartment Dodger pulling out his key.

“We’re home!”

“My nose is still in one piece and we didn’t run into any police!” Ollie exclaimed both Dodger and Tito giving each other a look behind him as Ollie ran into Rita’s awaiting arms. Again looking back Ollie was sure some silent words were exchanged but considering Ollie continued to learn free running and then parkour from them it hadn’t been too bad.

“We have a surprise. Close your eyes.” Doing as requested Ollie sat at the table with all the chocolate bars in the corner of the table Einstein and Fagin rolling their eyes at the spoils.

Covering his eyes with his hand Ollie swayed side to side as he waited for whatever the surprise was. Rita pulling his hands away only for Ollie to open his eyes to an ice cream cake.

The blue icing curled perfectly around to spell his name and his age. The Oreos on top. All treats that were just that treats. Something they didn’t waste money on unless they had extra. And rarely did they have extra when feeding a bunch of growing boys. That kept growing out of their clothes.

“Ice cream cake?”

“Ice cream cake.” Everyone choruses lighting a candle for the boy. “Happy birthday kid.” Rita’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and Ollie leaned into her.

I wish for all my birthdays to be surrounded by my family. Ollie wished blowing out the candle with a grin. This treat was expensive and one that couldn’t just be stolen. Not considering his name was on the cake too.

Ollie was only able to manage a thank you to everyone. And a “We got chocolate too.” at the very least and soon his hair was a mess once more but as the cake was sliced and served Ollie didn’t care.

July 23, 2000.

This was Oliver Twistes Birthday. Now Oliver Saluki. Ollie never checked when his real birthday was. It always would be the day that Rita found him. That was the day that mattered to him.

#bdrplabors

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