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obxsummer · 1 month ago

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everything i wanted // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: when the cops come in search of jj, promises are made and broken, rafe get stuck in the storage closet, a massive storm brews in the ocean, and you're left wondering if you can survive in a world without jj.

warnings: near death experiences, cursing, the usual obx angst

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March Point was always much cooler than Poguelandia 2.0. You swore every time the group wanted to take off from here in the morning depending on the fishing season because A) you didn’t get to sleep in your comfy bed, and B) it felt like camping without the fun of it all.

Somewhere in the midst of the campfire last night, Pope had suggested moving out here with the knowledge that Groff knew where the house was and could easily come back in search of you all if he felt the need. Kiara had tried to argue that he had all the supplies, so why would he bother, but speaking it out loud was enough to convince JJ to move too.

So that’s how you ended up here, on your makeshift camp, tangled in one of the hammocks with JJ. You’d slept relatively soundly all night, exhaustion really driving you to be a heavy sleeper which rarely ever happened.

Pope and Cleo woke up first, always the early birds. Their theorizing was relatively quiet until Sarah and John B started shuffling and then any chance of sleeping in wasn’t happening. You sighed and tucked further into JJ’s chest, digging your cold feet into his warm legs and laughing quietly when he made a noise of protest.

“You’re mean,” He whispered, pulling the blanket in tighter to keep the heat close. His hand dipped under the material of your shirt to tickle your back gently, the feeling lulling you back to sleep momentarily.

The soreness from yesterday settled in your bones achingly. It also didn’t help that you were crammed into a flimsy hammock that didn’t allow much structure for either you or JJ to spread out comfortably.

Scents of the fire being lit flooded your nose and you really wished nobody would move for the next few hours. Going after this so-called Blue Crown was the biggest topic of conversation, but you really wished the need for treasure wouldn’t overcome the need for peace and stability. Sarah really didn’t need to be traveling the world before she even had a chance to see a doctor and assess what was happening.

JJ especially didn’t want to get out of the cocoon the two of you created. This was the first time he’d gotten to hold you close and sleep comfortably in a few days and he wanted to soak up every second. He had become so used to just existing when you were with him that his mind shut off for the time being.

The emotional whirlwind was taking its toll differently than he was used to. He wasn’t expecting Luke to have been on the island as long as he has, but to go from that, to Groff and Larissa, to Luke betraying him in the courtroom, to Groff again? He felt like he should feel confused and betrayed, but in all honesty, JJ was just angry.

He was angry that all this drama had come to affect you and your relationship. You were the steady constant in JJ’s life so comparing everything that happened against the way you were impacted was a habit for him.

You shifted against him, your battle with staying asleep finally losing out. With a soft groan, you moved up to kiss his jawline before he turned to kiss you properly, eyes heavy as he blinked at you. “Morning,” He grumbled.

You returned the greeting before pushing off of him carefully, wincing as your tight muscles pulled with the action. JJ’s hand was warm under your shirt, the touch comforting as you took in your environment. Pope and Cleo were crowding around the small fire pit, pulling together something in the kettle to snack on while you figured out a game plan.

Kiara shuffled through the bag of snacks to toss you an apple and some fruit snacks, which you handed over to JJ. Everyone was still quiet, the movement of the water a background noise to your tranquil morning. You shivered, already missing the warmth of being snuggled up with JJ, and fully debated rolling back over and forgetting you guys were planning on doing absolutely anything.

“Is that a boat?”

You turned as Kiara asked the question, her gaze set on something behind the tree that you couldn’t quite see just yet.

“Who’s coming out here this early?” Pope questioned and looked over his shoulder just as the boat came into the clearing, the word Sheriff catching you off guard.

“Cops?” You glanced back at JJ, who could only offer you a shrug. Groaning, you stood up fully and pushed your feet into your gym shoes, knowing damn well you guys needed to move. “What’s the plan?”

John B stood still, his eyes watching as the police boat approached the dock where your only form of escape was, effectively blocking you all in. “Follow me, let’s go.”

Everyone scrambled to grab their shit, Cleo barely managing to douse the fire out before Pope was pulling her away from the scene. John B stayed tucked behind the trees as long as he could before slipping into the water and sliding under the dock. You huffed at the idea of getting your clothes and shoes wet but followed anyway. Thankfully, y’all at least had the brains to buy waterproof backpacks this time after losing all your shit in El Dorado.

“JJ Maybank!” The shout came from an unknown voice as two officers you didn’t recognize started their way toward land, their footsteps echoing against the wood. “JJ, we don’t want to hurt you. Come on out.”

Frowning, you looked over your shoulder where JJ was practically against your back. “Why are they looking for you?”

The blond boy could only shrug, confusion on his face as he kept a hold on your waist and gently shifted you forward into the water more. Pope was leading the group now, swimming along toward the two ships that were floating just a few feet away.

“I have an arrest warrant for JJ in connection to the murder of Hollis Robinson!”

As if your day couldn’t get any worse, the words JJ and murder had been placed in the same sentence, and you were suddenly in over your head. The group suddenly went still at the statement and looked back at him. His teeth clenched tighter on the knife blade between them but when he grabbed hold of you again and moved you further, you didn’t ask questions.

When John B climbed up on the police pontoon, you were questioning everything that was about to happen. Pope and your brother climbed up first before reaching back down to assist JJ so he didn’t strain his injury. Cleo crawled up next with Kie behind her. John B went for Sarah and you bit back a scream when Pope pulled you onboard, your chest burning with the movement. He gave you a look, to which you shook your head and dismissed it even though you were pressing against the pain with your fingertips.

Pope made a mental note to check on you later but instead pushed down slightly on your shoulder to get you to join Sarah and Cleo on the floor of the boat. John B started the engine and wasted no time in pulling away from the dock, instantly catching the eye of the cops on land.

“Hey!”

Their voices faded quickly as John B continued to veer away into the open water. JJ hit the floor next to you shortly after and you were quick to pull him into your arms. His whole body was shaking, and his reaction alone told you he had no idea what they were coming after him for.

“JJ?”

“I don’t, I don’t know,” He panted, falling back against you and latching on to you, digging his head into your shoulder. “I, he-”

Pope came into your view, crouching in front of JJ to place his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re okay, dude. It’s just us. Breathe.”

JJ’s hand was clenching your shirt so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped, but he listened to Pope and started to focus on his breathing until his chest was moving steadier. “We… after we left the cemetery, Groff told me he needed to pick something up. Went somewhere on Figure Eight, and then he insisted on leaving the Twinkie and taking… taking a boat out. Wasn’t his, didn’t say where he got it, just had the keys.”

“Who is Hollis Robinson?” You asked, the name completely unfamiliar to you. “The boat clearly belonged to her and Groff clearly killed her and planted evidence, to no surprise whatsoever.”

Sarah frowned slightly. “I’m pretty sure she’s in business with Rafe. He said something about Goat Island and… and this development investment?”

“Goat Island?” Cleo repeated the name, laughing slightly. “Creative, I guess.”

“Wait, didn’t the Genrettes own Goat Island? Passed down from generations?” Kiara pointed out, her eyes moving from Pope to JJ.

Pope nodded. “They read the will the other day, when Cleo and I went to clarify information on the rezoning. It’s being turned into a protected state park, since there’s no living Genrette left.”

“Except there is…” You trailed off, gaze dropping down to the boy in your arms who gained everyone’s attention at the moment. He shifted uncomfortably with the attention. “JJ?”

He shook his head slightly, practically shrinking into your body as much as possible. You frowned, letting your head fall to rest against his and continuing to hold him closely.

“We need to get out of here. Get off this island,” Cleo directed. She was no doubt itching for another chance to avenge Terrance, and going after the crown would give her that opportunity.

“I mean, I could be down for a little Moroccan vacay,” Kie added with a shrug. Her fingers picked at the hem of her shorts, something she did when she was nervous and you didn’t blame her for feeling that way.

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat. Hell, a ship maybe. You know how far Morocco is? Way, way, way out there.”

Cleo’s words were unfortunately true, which led you back to the marina in hopes of finding a boat that you could possibly slip into without mass hysteria. In theory, it should’ve been kind of easy… except you were all in a Kildare County Sheriff boat and if they were looking for JJ, chances are the Kooks were already spreading the so-called accusation down the grapevine.

Kiara was offering her favorite picks of the bunch, to which John B kept declining with realistic reasons of why they wouldn’t make it as far as needed. You tuned him out, figuring he would give you all a heads up when he located one that would be up for the job.

“You okay?” You looked to JJ who had shifted to sit next to you, eyes scanning the marina for anything that he thought would help. He nodded, grabbing your hand in his to hold tightly, but remaining quiet. The shaking had come to a slow a little bit ago and you could slowly see the terror disappearing from his posture. It would only be a matter of time before anger took over and he felt the need to defend himself.

“You know we could all go to jail for taking a boat like that?”

Pope’s comment grabbed your attention as you looked up to see the vessel they were focused on, the large engines speaking for themselves. Suddenly, JJ was moving out of your grasp. “We’re just gonna borrow it for a little, yeah?”

Sarah reached down to grab your hand and pull you up as JJ tied the smaller boat off, calling back that he was going to look for keys. Cleo climbed on the larger boat, following JJ and Pope up the stairs while Kie remained on the lower deck.

“This is a horrible idea,” You muttered so only Sarah and John B could hear. “Probably one of our worst.”

John B’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently as he observed the whole scene from behind you. Worry was building in your chest. The marina was not empty by any means, and any looking person could easily tell this was not normal.

“Coppers!” The call from Cleo had you all looking toward the deck where a group of police officers were making their way toward your group.

“Shit,” John B cursed, leaving you and Sarah to start the engine again as the remainder of your friends came scrambling to jump back on the smaller pontoon.

You looked over your shoulder to see a small crowd growing, the familiar face of Kiara’s dad appearing amongst them. “Kie, it’s your dad.”

The girl followed where you were pointing, catching her dad’s eyes and cursing. “Shit, he’s gonna kill me.”

“John B, go!” JJ called back as he finished disconnecting from the yacht.

Your brother’s hands were moving frantically before Cleo shoved him away, not taking long before the boat shifted beneath you all. “I got it, hold on to something!”

Pope was pushing you down again to get as low as possible as JJ scrambled around the deck before ripping something out of the compartment.

“What are you doing, what is that?” Kiara asked as JJ pulled out a red container, apparently knowing whatever the hell it was better than you did.

“JJ!” You yelled when the gun-like object appeared in his hand and he leaned over the side to aim in the air. “Stop!”

The popping noise made you jump, but instead of a bullet, a red flare went flying in the air. Concerned gasps followed the defensive measure before another loud bang went off and everyone around you yelped.

You risked the chance to look up and caught sight of Kiara’s dad standing near one of the cops, apparently having knocked him off stance and causing his bullet to miss. You glanced over at Kie, who was clearly in shock and caught off guard by her dad’s actions.

“What the fu-”

“Are you insane?” Your question was full of so much anger that it almost made JJ flinch. You were pissed, and rightfully so. “What the hell was that?”

“I panicked!”

“Shit, we’re leaking.”

Sarah sat up from her spot on the floor at Pope’s comment. “What?”

John B moved quickly, his glare directed at your fiancé as he went to the back of the boat. “They shot the boat.”

You groaned, head falling into your hands in defeat. Not only did you fail on finding a boat for Morocco, but now your only form of transportation was on its way to sinking. You moved out of the way, practically falling into the spot next to Sarah and Kie as the boys scrambled to find a patch or something to slow the leak.

Cleo continued to steer away from the chaos behind you guys. “Look, we’ve gotta beach her, this thing is sinking.”

As she headed for the nearest land set, thankfully a bit away from the marina and further into creek, you stared at JJ like he’d lost his mind. Panic or not, shooting anything near an armed cop was never a good idea and you couldn’t believe you had to be the one to explain that to him after his 20 years of life. You knew he was scared and he was just trying to help, but that managed to royally fuck you all over even worse than before.

“Cops will be here any minute. We’ve gotta fix this thing fast,” John B said as Cleo steadied the boat to drift into the sandbank.

Cleo just laughed as everyone started climbing out. “She’s done. She’s not coming back.” She pointed toward the severely deflated side of the boat (which… why would cops want a boat that could deflate in the first place?) to emphasize her words.

“How are we gonna get out of here now?” Pope retaliated. You guys were sitting ducks if you stayed here, especially since it was obvious you couldn’t go far with the damaged boat.

JJ was picking at the sand, slamming his fist into the gritty surface with annoyance at himself more than anything. The space between you spoke for itself. When survival mode kicked in for him, it was hard to think about anything else. You were frustrated over his actions and needed the space before you cut into him harsher than you intended to.

“Hey!” Shoupe clearly caught up to you faster than you anticipated as he pulled up on his own boat.

“And there’s Shoupe,” John B sighed and sat down in the sand next to Sarah with a huff. You shook your head. There really was no way out of this now, especially when you had nothing surrounding you but water.

“You guys finally did it, beached yourselves. And JJ, you’ve done a great job racking up some charges. And guess what? I’ve got a warrant this time.”

The boy in question got up from the sand, full defense mode engaged as he created more distance from Shoupe. “I didn’t-”

“You’ve dug this hole about as deep as it can get,” Shoupe continued, “So put down the shovels, and come with me.” He looked pointedly at JJ and motioned to his boat in the water.

“He’s wanted for murder, Shoupe,” You argued calmly. “He didn’t murder anyone.”

Shoupe sighed, “Look, I got a good idea of what he did and didn’t do, okay? I can’t pin you for most of the downtown damage, but I can for the realtor office and I have a warrant for this, okay? We just gotta let the courts sort it out.”

You scoffed loudly, “Yeah, like the courts figured out the zoning in a fair manner. Or how about John B going for the death penalty, OR better yet, how about Rafe Cameron not catching any assault charges? Let the courts figure it out, yeah right.”

“Y’all come with me, now, or-”

“Hey!”

You closed your eyes as Rafe’s voice interrupted Shoupe, his figure appearing from the marsh behind the officer as he approached the group. John B and Pope were in front of you in seconds, Sarah pulling herself from the sand to join your side and grab your hand tightly.

“What the hell?” Shoupe was asking the question on everyone’s mind as Rafe continued getting closer.

“Listen, I’m just here to save everyone’s asses, okay?” The eldest Cameron announced before looking to the sheriff. “Shoupe, I gotta talk to you. You’re missing a part of this picture.”

Shoupe apparently felt threatened and unholstered his weapon to point it at Rafe. “Hey. Hey, stay back! Stay back!”

Rafe froze instantly and took a few steps back, his hands in the air. “Jesus Christ! What are you gonna do, shoot me? Huh? You’re looking for Chandler Groff, yeah?”

Shoupe hesitated, his stance dropping slightly. “Maybe.”

“Groff was scamming with Hollis this entire time, alright? If you ask me, it was probably Groff that killed her, not…him.” He tossed his hand dismissively in JJ’s direction, who didn’t hesitate to flip him off in response. When Shoupe didn’t really say anything, Rafe looked at him expectantly. “Did you already think that? Yeah, Groff probably killed Genrette too. And that body…the body in the dunes? You got that on Groff?”

You glanced at Sarah, confused as to why her brother of all people was trying to point fingers away from your group for once.

“Listen, you can bring these lowlifes in for some vandalism, disturbing the peace bullshit, or you can get the big fish. These guys know where Groff is.”

To your shock, Shoupe turned to face you all with a look of suspicion. “Yeah? Where is he?”

“Out of your jurisdiction, Shoupe,” John B explained. “Way out.”

“Try out the country.”

“We were on our way to get him, and then you showed up,” John B continued.

Shoupe motioned toward the deflated police raft and nearly laughed. “In that?”

“No. That.” Rafe shook his head and decided this was his question to answer as he pointed to a large fishing boat anchored in the deeper waters. “They know where he is, and I can get them there, alright? But they can’t do shit if they’re all locked up.”

“And just let ‘em go? No, thanks,” Shoupe retaliated and directed his next words to JJ, “I’ll tell you what, here’s what we’re gonna do. You come with me, tell us where Groff is, and I guarantee it, we’ll go easy on you. Hell, your charges may disappear. Quid pro quo, you ever heard of that?”

John B laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, we’ve seen plenty of it.”

Your hope was slowly disappearing and part of you wondered if JJ took off running fast enough, if he would lose them altogether.

“Think about it. Hollis, dead. Genrette, dead. Downtown’s trashed. You’re on the chopping block, okay? I hear what people are saying about you. You’re gonna lose your job. It’s game over, man.” You couldn’t tell if Rafe’s tactic was helping or hurting the cause, but you weren’t even gonna try to stop him. “Unless, you bring the killer to justice all by your lonesome. So, what’s it gonna be? I mean, some bullshit charges on these low-rent Pogues who didn’t do shit-”

“Man, he really has to get every dig in, huh?” You whispered to Sarah causing her to giggle and hide her smile behind her hand.

“-Or you solve the crime of the century. And you save your job.”

Shoupe shook his head. “You know, you sound a lot like your old man. And that’s not a compliment. Now I’m getting cornered by another freakin’ Cameron here?”

“Oh?” Rafe looked offended for a split second before he wiped the expression from his face. “Okay then, added bonus. When we get back, and you got Groff locked up, I’ll tell you what happened last summer on the runway. When you found me out there on the tarmac? The real deal, right? I know you wanna know.”

Your heart skipped as you recalled the moment like it was yesterday. The incoming storm, Kie and JJ not answering, you arguing with John B. Rafe and Ward showing up. The beginning of a shit show.

“You wanna know what I want to know?” Shoupe repeated, “I wanna know about another little runway incident from a while back. How ‘bout that?”

Caught in a corner, Rafe licked his lips in understanding at what Shoupe was pushing at. “Look, all I’m saying is that all of this would look really good for an elected official in the hot seat. You know? Get it all wrapped up in one package.”

Shoupe seemed to really be contemplating the idea and apparently, John B felt like he could push the sheriff over the edge. “How ‘bout this,” Your brother walked closer to the two. “We find Groff, call you. He’s all yours.”

Shoupe shook his head and tossed his hands in the air, frustration winning over. “I eat shit either way. All right. Yeah, you’re welcome. Go on, before the cavalry gets here. Get out of here.”

The sound of incoming sirens rang in your ears and it suddenly became very clear that you were going to have to get on a boat, an enclosed space, with Rafe Cameron… for who knows how long. Great! Awesome! It’s the best day ever!

You wanted to throw up.

It seemed you weren’t the only one thinking about it as Pope fell back into step with you, Sarah taking the opportunity to catch up with John B while Kie kept an eye on JJ. Cleo caught up on your other side to loop her arm with yours and you were sandwiched between the couple as you guys started following Rafe.

“You okay with all of this?” Pope asked quietly, his gaze switching from Rafe to you.

You shrugged. “I don’t…not really, but there’s not much of a choice, you know? It’s our only option of getting JJ off this island and I can’t be the reason that doesn’t happen.”

He hesitated in his reply. Part of him knew you were right, this was a rare opportunity and if you didn’t take it, the other option was much worse. But at the same time, he hated the idea of you feeling so uncomfortable and unsafe for the time it would take for the trip. It wasn’t fair.

“He comes near you, I cut his throat,” Cleo spoke like she wasn’t threatening someone’s life, and it almost made you laugh as you turned to her with an appreciative smile. “I’m serious, girly. One wrong look and he loses at least a toe.”

Rafe had taken over steering the fishing boat which kept him occupied and away from you, thankfully. Calling this a vacation was so far from the truth, and as you all drifted past Poguelandia 2.0, you wanted to burst into tears. You were so homesick for a feeling that you rarely got anymore, but eighteen months of it had been so good.

Your back was against the dirty wall of the upper deck of the boat, knees to your chest as your friends conversed around you. There was nothing more you wanted than to go back to the night of JJ’s proposal before Groff showed up, and to just start over. Everyone was so happy and excited, life felt normal for you guys, and then it all went to shit.

“So what, we’re just going to Africa now? Quick little weekend trip?”

“What about Rafe?” Pope ignored Kie’s rhetorical question. “We know what he did to the cross, and now we want to go after the crown with him? That makes zero sense.”

“Sarah, you’re his family. How do we deal with Rafe?”

The blonde girl shook her head and shrugged. “I really have no idea. I don’t know.”

John B sighed, “Alright, well, it seems like we’re stuck on this boat with him, so we gotta talk to him. And actually, I have a lot to say so-” He got to his feet and brushed his hands on his pants, puffing his chest out all macho-like.

“You know, John B, I think I do too.” JJ was standing up next, his stance matching your brother’s and you rolled your eyes.

“Stop.” You rubbed your hands over your face as the command made them freeze in their steps. “Sit the fuck down. This is really dramatic and unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” JJ repeated the word like it was an insult. “Babe, I know you didn’t forget what he put you through and-”

You were on your feet instantly and closing the gap, your chest nearly pressing against his. “Of fucking course I didn’t forget it, JJ! I see it in my nightmares. It’s burned into my head no matter what I do. So no, I didn’t forget any of it.”

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath and calm down, you took a step back from him so you could look at John B too. “I know you both could say, and do, a lot to him right now. But it will not help us get to Morocco or keep the peace and I do not want anyone going overboard off this boat like last time, do you hear me?” You looked pointedly at JJ, not wanting any repetition of him getting knocked the fuck out and falling off the boat like he did before Poguelandia.

“She’s got a point,” Cleo added, watching the two boys sternly. “Don’t cause a scene, rude boy.”

“Fine,” JJ exhaled. He was doing his best to keep his emotions at bay, but you were still frustrated with him, and now you were tense as fuck with Rafe so close, not that he blamed you. He didn’t want to push his luck, but he needed to talk to you soon. “So who’s going in?”

Your friends were still looking at you the way they looked to John B when they needed a plan. And even though it made bile burn in your throat, you had your answer.

“I’ll talk to him.”

Turning on your heels, you walked away from their quick protests like you couldn’t hear a word and forced the thoughts out of your head. Giving your best poker face, you stepped into the helm where Rafe was hovering over the wheel.

“Rafe.” Your voice was clipped as you grabbed his attention and he turned, shocked that you were even speaking. “Just here to talk.”

He looked back at the water ahead, biting down on his lip. He didn’t want to admit that you made him nervous and defensive, but his shitty ego was kicking into gear as a protective measure. “Alright, let’s talk.”

You moved around to his other side and crossed your arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Pogues poking their heads in the door to keep an eye on you.

“Before you start yapping-” He reached down to shift the hem of his shirt to reveal a gun tucked in the waistband of his shorts. “See this? It’s-”

“I don’t give a fuck,” You interrupted and he nearly flinched at the hatred in your voice. “You’ve done worse. Drop the ego. Just you and me.”

“Just you and me?” Rafe rolled his eyes and let his shirt fall back into place, trying not to let you see his shaky hands. “We just gonna act like your friends aren’t right behind me?”

You nodded, keeping your expression blank and tucking your lips. “Yeah, in fact, we are. Look-”

He laughed loudly, and you almost faltered but caught yourself. “I just saved your asses and there’s not even a thank you? No good deed goes unpunished. It’ll be just like Barbados, right, sweetheart?”

You let out a breath. You refused to back down, knowing this was just his defense mechanism kicking in. “Fuck you, Rafe. If I remember correctly, we made it out of there together. Did you forget about the months I was locked in your house and you spilled all your deep dark secrets after you drugged the shit out of me? Let’s not act all high and mighty now.”

The boundaries had been pushed and the trigger in Rafe snapped. He took a step toward you and before you even had a chance to blink, JJ was in his way.

The Cameron boy laughed at the reaction but continued to look at you over JJ’s shoulder. “Look, I don’t want any part of your little fairy tale treasure hunt bullshit. I’m just looking for Groff. I get you to North Africa, you get me to Groff? Deal?”

“Hey, Rafe? Watch your mouth when you talk to her next time.”

JJ’s fist connected with Rafe’s head and the older boy collapsed to the ground. You gasped, your jaw dropping in shock. What. The. Fuck.

“I had him!” You yelled in frustration. You looked at the girls with wide eyes and all three of them had no answers to give you. Not that you didn’t love JJ’s protective nature when it came to you, but all attempts at keeping peace just went out with Rafe’s consciousness.

“Jesus, JJ!” John B scolded as they all crowded into the small area. The blond boy wasn’t listening, however, and shook his hand out with a cheer. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I mean, honestly, if he didn’t do it, I was going to.”

The group fell into the normal sense of calm for the most part after Pope and Cleo tied Rafe up in the cleaning closet, a cohesive agreement that nobody really trusted him.

You were trying your best not to shut down - overstimulated and nearly spiraling from the shitshow of a day you’ve had, not to mention you still weren’t really talking to JJ. He had always been this way when he was scared, the survival instinct outweighing his more responsible thoughts. You were just pissed he shot first and didn’t ask questions, even when a bullet came flying back as a response. There really was no anger between the two of you, but you were easily frustrated and getting grumpier by the minute.

Hence the reason you sent John B out there to talk to him so you could lounge with Sarah instead. She accepted you with open arms, letting you crawl into the small bed next to her so you two could snuggle under the blankets for warmth.

“You okay?” She asked quietly once you’d settled next to her.

You pursed your lips and blinked. “I um… it’s weird, knowing Rafe’s right here. And I’m still upset with JJ. But it’s fine. Are you?”

Sarah watched you curiously, always amazed by the way you compartmentalized everything (even if you didn’t think so). She admired you for continuing to take the step every day, even when you didn’t want to force a fake smile.

“I’m okay,” She answered honestly. “I don’t like being out here, and I don’t like that Rafe is here and we aren’t home. But I’m okay.”

You nodded understandingly, your gaze dropping to the ring you’d been twisting around your finger out of nerves. A new growing habit that made you feel bittersweet. In moments like these, there was nothing you craved more than JJ’s presence. But like you’d said before, you were learning to separate your feelings and comprehension from relying on him. That didn’t mean it wasn’t hard as fuck to not run to him when you were feeling down.

Meanwhile, John B was approaching JJ on the main fishing deck, the blonde pacing as he whispered to himself.

“Dude, what’s your deal?” John B came off a little harsher than he intended, but once he saw the slight look of pain on Sarah’s face after JJ’s punch, he wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, Rafe was Sarah’s brother, one of the only family members left that she had some form of contact with. On the other hand, this was the same person who broke you down to your core and left you as a scrap of the person you used to be.

So, yeah. John B was confused.

“I don’t know,” JJ groaned and pulled at his tousled hair. He really needed to talk to you. Guilt was gnawing at him for putting you in danger, for being the reason you were pushed into coming on this boat, for making things worse than they already were. “I’m losing my fucking mind, JB, like he’s here and-”

“Listen to me.” John B grabbed his best friend’s shoulders, effectively ceasing the pacing and getting JJ to focus on him alone. When the blond boy met his eyes, the Routledge boy sighed, “Dude, I get it, yeah? I’m terrified too and I’m really sorry. About your-your dad, this whole thing with Hollis, and Poguelandia. I’m really sorry, but we need you right now, J. I really need you to get your shit together. If not for me or yourself, for her. Okay?”

JJ nearly gulped but nodded. He’d come to know that there were two things in this world John B didn’t play about: you and Sarah. And honestly, JJ didn’t fuck around on that idea either, considering you were his entire world and Sarah was the sister he never had. So if John B of all people was telling him to get his shit together, he needed to get it together. “She’s so mad at me, dude. And I just- shit.”

“If anyone knows how to fix this shit, it’s gonna be you,” The older boy reassured when JJ started to ramble. As much as John B wished he could fix everything for his friends, it wasn’t possible, but he also knew if there was anything JJ could do, it was make you happy.

John B pulled JJ into a hug, the two boys holding each other tightly. Unspoken words said everything and they both realized the lives they’d come to know with you and Sarah were at risk with each passing moment. Now, they had to protect it with everything they had.

You woke up sometime after to find Sarah missing from next to you and the smell of food filling the air. JJ had replaced your best friend’s spot, soft snores leaving his mouth as he slept soundly. A small smile formed on your lips as you traced his jawline gently, soaking in how peaceful he looked.

There was a reason you didn’t want to chat with him earlier and it simply boiled down to your emotions being at an all time high. Conversations when both of you were grumpy and peak frustrated were not helpful in any way, and when you almost laid into him earlier, you knew to take a step back.

“Mm hi,” JJ hummed, his eyes still closed as you continued to move your fingers across his skin slowly.

“Hi,” You returned the greeting with a small laugh and nearly gasped when the boat took a dip you weren’t prepared for. JJ’s eyes opened at the movement, blinking slowly as he shifted to face you. His arm fell across your hip, fingertips digging into your back soothingly in the spot that had always seemed to bother you ever since Pope crashed the Carreras’ truck.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” You apologized, letting your hand drop beneath you. “And now that I’m thinking about it, I really hope these are clean sheets.”

JJ laughed and shifted forward to kiss you, relishing in the way you sighed contently and chased for more. He wasn’t one to deny you, ever. You could scream at him for two hours and ask for a smoothie and he’d run across Kildare to get your favorite one without question.

“Don’t need to apologize to me. I’m sorry for acting out. Shouldn’t have put you in that position ever,” He spoke in between kisses as his fingers slipped under your shirt to dance across your skin.

“S’okay.”

He tugged you even closer so you could tuck your head under his chin, burying your nose against his collarbone. It was no secret you guys were on borrowed time with Morocco nearing. You could only sit in a comfortable silence, soaking up the time with each other before you were going to be on the run again.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid when we get here?” You asked quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his throat. “Can’t lose you, J. Not now and not ever.”

“Promise. As long as it doesn’t involve you,” He quickly added, making you roll your eyes and flick his forehead lovingly. “Ow, babe!”

“Wuss,” You mumbled, wiggling your leg between his so you were fully pressed against him. JJ was always so warm.

And then the room went dark.

“What the fuck?” JJ asked quietly, his heart starting to race. He was no genius, but losing electricity on a boat was clearly not a good thing.

The two of you shifted apart slightly and you sat up, only the one dim emergency light providing any source of sight for you. You could hear shit clattering around in the other rooms and could barely make out Pope’s voice if you listened closely.

“J-” Your concerns were interrupted as the blond boy went tumbling from the bed from a particularly sharp drop and you nearly laughed at the sight. “What the fuck is going on!”

JJ groaned from the fall, attempting to gain some footing as he stood up, holding on to his surroundings for help. “We gotta move, come on.”

You took his outstretched hand and followed him out of the cabin area as carefully as possible. Whatever was rocking the boat was massive and you could only hope John B knew what the fuck he was doing.

“Shit!” You cursed as you lost your footing and tumbled into JJ’s back, both of you sliding across the floor chaotically. “Sorry!”

JJ pinned himself against the hallway walls, tucking you into his side as he continued to move strategically. “I need to go check on John B!” He called over the alarm that was now blaring throughout the boat.

Pushing forward, JJ opened the door that lead to the kitchen area where you found Cleo and Pope hunkered down, both soaked with water and looking quite spent compared to normal.

“You guys okay?” You asked to which Cleo nodded.

“Sarah went looking for John B!” Pope explained, worry evident in his voice as he looked to the direction the girl disappeared to.

“I got her!” JJ shouted back before turning to you. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You stared at him like he was crazy (he was, duh) and watched as he started walking toward the exit to the main deck. “JJ, fucking stop!”

Your pleas were left ignored as the blond opened the door to the onslaught of waves, wind, and storm raging outside. Cursing to yourself, you tried to follow as best as you could with your feet slipping across the water.

Pope was shouting your name, the sound lost in the wind that was suddenly rushing in your ears. A large swell took over the side and washed you into the rail with it, your body tumbling into the metal ungracefully.

You groaned and tried to get your vision to focus despite the rain attacking you. “JJ!”

“Sarah!”

John B’s voice was clear over the chaos around you and it was then that you caught sight of the blurb of white amongst the metal deck. Suddenly, it felt like you couldn’t breathe as you watched a rush of water takeover the boat completely, slamming you against the floor again.

A scream echoed in your ears before you registered JJ’s voice following it. Pushing yourself to your feet, you tried to cling to the metal railings to get closer to Sarah. The water rushed past you, various supplies and debris flowing with it until it caught on your best friend’s form and swept her out into the open water.

“Sarah!” You screamed, all conscious safety precautions flying out the window as you rushed forward only to be stopped by a pair of arms around your waist. “Get off of me!”

“Stop!” JJ shouted at you, shoving you back harsher than he intended and you tripped, your back colliding with the wall as you fell. Using the momentum, JJ flung forward to cross the deck and grab the life preserver, throwing it with more precision than you knew he had to Sarah as she fought the waves.

There was zero hesitation in his actions as he jumped in after the orange ring, disappearing into the dark waves.

“JJ, no!” Your scream burned your throat as you lost sight of him and Sarah both, their forms blending in with the harsh waters surrounding you. John B was suddenly tumbling into you, anchoring you back to the floor when you tried to crawl out of his grip. You shoved against his hands, your actions frantic and rough. “John B, let me go.”

“Stop, stop!” He yelled, his hold even tighter just as you slipped through and he screamed your name.

Rafe, hearing the shouting and having been freed by Kiara, slammed the cabin door open to call after his sister before he caught sight of you trying to get to your feet on the slippery surface. Despite the annoyance and frustration he held toward your group right now, he knew staying out here was risky and he needed to get the two of you inside.

The second he realized you were ready to take off, Rafe was moving to catch you around the waist and tug you back, the two of you hitting the ground as a wave drowned you in water.

Rafe’s movement caught John B’s attention. He had continued to stare at the open water with the sinking realization that both of you just watched the loves of your lives disappear into stormy waters with slim chances of survival. Your older brother was numb, the world around him quiet as he looked up to see the Cameron boy. There was no smart answer to the next steps, but John B was certain that he couldn’t risk losing you too.

Against his better judgement, John B pushed onto his knees and looped his arms around you to haul you off the floor and over to Rafe who was quick to take his own protective hold on you. The two boys moved as quickly as possible back inside despite the waves crashing relentlessly around them.

The second Rafe set you down on the bench seat, you screamed and shoved his chest as hard as possible, finding satisfaction in the way he hit the cabinets against the wall. You stood up quickly, vision blurring from the movement as you approached him. Your balance was suddenly steady as fuck, the adrenaline rushing its course and keeping you on your feet.

“Don’t ever touch me again!” Your glare was sharp as knives before you turned your focus to the boy you’d called your brother. “What is wrong with you!”

“Me?” John B’s voice cracked as he brushed wet hair from his face, chest still heaving in shock. “You were going to kill yourself!”

“Would it matter?” You shouted back, arm pointing behind him where the raging waters continued through the windows. “They’re gone, John B! And we just watched them fall without doing a fucking thing!”

John B flinched at your words, his expression devastating as he took in what you’d said. He promised to keep Sarah safe, and he just stood there as she was washed out to sea. He’d live with that guilt for the rest of his life.

You shook your head, your whole body shaking from being in fight mode. “I don’t want to live in a world that he’s not in. I shouldn’t have to.”

“Look, maybe they’ll be able to wait it out and swim to shore when they have a chance, okay?” Kie offered as she placed a hand on your shoulder in attempt to diffuse the situation.

You glared at her, blinded by your sadness and anger that you couldn’t even see she had a point. John B and Sarah had survived rocky waters once before Nassau. It could be done again. You shook her hand off and bit back a sob, feeling completely defeated in every way possible.

The ship rocked again and you nearly tumbled to the floor but kept it together. In a room full of people, you felt so alone. You’d just watched the one person who understood you, who had taken you with all your scars and broken pieces and swore to help you put it all back together, disappear in front of your eyes. And you didn’t do a thing to help him.

And Sarah, your best friend and confidant, the one you turned to when you needed a break and a reminder of how good life could be… lost to the waters that almost took her from you once before.

You were so, so tired of always losing.

The ship continued to rock for hours. With no power and no way to steer, there was nothing left to do besides ride out the waves and hope you hit shore somewhat close to Morocco.

Pope was eventually able to get you to calm down enough that you agreed to go back to the sleeping quarters to talk to him, Cleo following along to offer her support as much as she could. That left an unusual three, Rafe, Kie, and John B, to fill the obvious void left in the room.

Minutes faded to hours and all you could do was stare numbly at the worn walls of the boat. You wished you could disappear into the sheets beneath you and never come back.

Pope tried Kiara’s tactic of reminding you it was possible for them to keep their heads above water, but you knew better. JJ still had a massive wound on his side and had been left in the open calm water for hours the other day, which left him exhausted as it was. Sarah was pregnant, and even though she hadn’t seen a doctor yet to confirm, using energy to swim was draining, let alone doing it for hours in rough waves.

You didn’t move even when John B came into the room later, his eyes red and glossed over with tears. There was nothing to say, but he was mourning as much as you were and sitting in a room with Rafe Cameron wasn’t helping him in the slightest.

Sitting with your back against the wall, you stared unmoving at the bed across from you, swaying along with the boat’s movement. Nausea swirled in your stomach and if you didn’t focus enough, your dinner would end up all over the bed. You could barely breathe as it was, anxiety attack still fighting its way through even after you’d sobbed in Cleo’s arms for what felt like forever.

John B hauled himself up to sit next to you, wincing at the pull on sore spots from falling when the windshield of the helm busted on him earlier. He wasn’t quite sure how to approach this conversation, but he couldn’t let this burn a bridge between the two of you, not now.

Apparently, you were done fighting because your head dropped to rest on his shoulder and your knees pulled up to your chest as a shaky breath left your frame. John B accepted the win, moving to settle his arm across your shoulders so you could curl into his side more.

You sniffled, tears falling slowly as you sank into your brother’s embrace. Your mind was reeling and John B was a pillar of home for you to ground yourself with.

So the two of you stayed there, crying in each other’s hold as the boat continued to rock amongst the storm of your lives. There wasn’t a need to talk, the silence saying enough on its own. If worse came to worst, the two of you would only have each other to lean on through the nightmare your lives were slowly becoming.

It wasn’t until Pope came to collect you, finding the two of you half asleep while sitting and explained that you’d been beached, the awkward angle of the boat confirming his words. John B stayed close as you all grabbed what was left of your belongings and jumped into the chilly waters below.

The sunset was taunting as you swam through the water toward the sandy area ahead. The once dark and stormy clouds were bright with color, a stark contrast to how angry they had been only a short time ago.

Cleo was on her feet after finding shallow water before she was reaching down to help you stand. You shuffled through the water awkwardly, your backpack heavy against you before you hit the dune and let out a heavy sigh. Your friends scattered around you, Rafe included, as you all tried to catch your breath and bearings.

John B squeezed your shoulder lightly, mumbling that he was going to check the area for anything that would lead to Sarah and JJ. You nodded absentmindedly before shrugging off your backpack.

Pope eventually settled on the idea of getting a campsite up and moving to help keep you all warm for the night. You followed his directions quietly, piling up the burnable items you could locate before piecing them together.

You froze as you pulled JJ’s lighter from the waterproof backpack. The P4L he’d carved in with a knife traced under your fingers like it had for years, your chest tightening at the sight of it. Biting your lip, you handed it over to Pope before you had time to linger on it.

The metal felt so familiar and fragile in his hand that Pope nearly broke down at the sight of it. He was trying really hard to keep it together, knowing you were all looking to him for some sort of guidance in some way. Reality was, one of his best friends potentially drowned in the ocean, and he wasn’t sure he could handle going through that while also searching for a treasure that was supposed to save them in the first place.

Flames came to life shortly after, the warmth spreading around you as the five of you huddled closely. John B rejoined you shortly after, a piece of your heart breaking when he explained that he didn’t find anything at all.

“Maybe they just washed up further down the beach,” Cleo suggested as she dug her knife into the sand, flicking the handle as she did. “We just gotta keep looking. Check in the mornin’.”

As much as you wanted to disagree, Cleo had a mind to her that was usually correct. You really had no other choice than to bundle together and try to sleep through the night. Tomorrow would be a new day and hopefully you’d start it off much better than this one.

You stared at the sky as the stars sparkled back, mockingly. And then the night went on.

True to her word, Cleo was up and moving the next morning. After recruiting Kiara and Pope to help her catch some fish using a net she brought from the boat, you had a hodgepodge of items for breakfast.

Kiara nudged your foot when you didn’t grab anything for yourself, and she split her banana in half to hand it to you. You glanced at her, tempted to shake your head and continue without an appetite, but when she gave you a look, you admitted defeat and took the fruit from her hand.

The only grace you were really given was that Rafe was keeping his space from all of you, claiming a patch of sand away from the group to himself. You didn’t want to act like you were all buddy buddy since he saved you from jumping overboard, but at least he didn’t throw you there himself.

“Hey.” Said boy’s voice carried your way and you looked up to see him on his feet, hands shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked at something. John B was standing too, looking in the same direction, and your heart jumped in your chest before you got up to take a glance.

Slowly moving on one of the patches of sand surrounded by water were two figures that almost looked like ants. You could barely make anything else out since it was so far. You glanced at John B to find him already staring back.

“Let’s go,” You offered, reaching a hand out toward him. He took it with a nod of confirmation, carefully guiding you down the steep slope of sand. Your bare feet slid every now and then with the shifting terrain before the two of you were on solid ground again. You could only walk for so long before your anxiety got the best of you and you were running, hand separating from John B just so he could keep pace next to you.

Coming to the top of a dune, the second you caught sight of a white dress that looked like it’d been through hell, you were sprinting with a cry, leaving John B in the dust. Your brother took off shortly after, figuring your actions weren’t uncalled for.

Blinking through tears, JJ was already there to catch you, just like he always was. You slammed into him full force, a sob escaping your mouth as you held him like your life depended on it. His hand grabbed the back of your head, the other looping around your waist to hold you up against him as the two of you sobbed in relief.

“I gotcha, baby.”

You cried at the sound of his voice, squeezing him tighter. Fingers tangling in his hair, your knees nearly gave out when he set you down before wrapping you into another hug, holding you close to his chest.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” He promised, his own hands shaking as he took in your presence. “Shit, I-”

You cut him off with a heavy kiss, tears slipping down your cheeks as you finally looked into his eyes. Your favorite color looked back at you and you swore it was the most beautiful thing you’d seen in your life.

JJ kissed you again, arms tight around your waist as he pulled you up to your tiptoes and you giggled. “I love you.”

“I love you, holy shit,” He breathed out when you separated before kissing your forehead. “Sorry, I know I scared you and I promised I wouldn’t-”

“I don’t care,” You interrupted softly, your thumb brushing his cheekbone as you took in the sight of him, alive and breathing in front of you. “You came back, that’s what matters.”

JJ nearly cried and kissed you again, practically stealing the last bit of air from your lungs. “Where you go, I go, baby. Always.”

The two of you stood there a moment longer, holding each other like the world would break apart if you let go. You were sick to your stomach with relief and your heart was practically in your throat, but you were both here and JJ was alive, and that’s all that mattered.

“Sarah?” You gasped the girl’s name, your mind so occupied with JJ’s return that you’d missed her and you shifted in search of her.

“She’s okay,” JJ reassured, his hand rubbing across your lower back in comfort. You turned to see the blonde girl running toward you with open arms and you didn’t hesitate to meet her halfway, the two of you crying in relief as you rocked back and forth.

“Holy shit, hi,” She laughed through her tears, squeezing you tightly.

You held her face carefully, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort as your own laugh slipped through. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, the back of her hand brushing tears off her cheeks. “You’ve got one hell of a swimmer for a fiancé, saved my ass.”

You laughed again, your hands falling to her shoulder as you glanced back to see John B and JJ hugging each other tightly. You turned back to Sarah with a smile. “Thank fuck you’re back, I cannot handle my brother on my own.”

She pulled you in for another hug, the two of you squeezing each other tightly before you felt two sets of arms join you as the boys wiggled their way in.

“Hey, let me in here.”

“Just gonna squeeze right in.”

The four of you burst into laughter, smiles all around as you and Sarah held your boys close and thanked the stars for shining even through the dark of the night.

a/n: guys wtf!!!!!!! ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

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yeet-me-dad-dy · 22 days ago

Text

The Arcane - Chapter Four - Anomaly

Summary: You find an anomaly in Viktor's blood. He takes you down to see his old doctor. You meet Vander.

Characters: Viktor x Male Reader (Dr Raven) x Jayce (Eventually)

Warnings: Blood

Words: 2,408

After Viktor departed from your lab, you set the centrifuge, prepared a slide, poured yourself a drink, and sat down to examine his blood more closely. It was clear right away that something was wrong.

“What the…?” you mumbled as you gazed through the microscope.

His red blood cell count was fine and the cells were dispersed nicely – not too close together, not too far apart, not clumped up in groups. But there was an… anomaly. Around the white spot of hemoglobin at the center of each cell was a blue ring.

That’s why his blood seems purple. The red and blue are mixing. You made a quick, preliminary note of the observation. Without more testing, there was no way to know whether this anomaly was strictly discoloration, or if it was something more serious. Was it preventing the cells from transporting oxygen throughout his body? You would have to separate a cell and look more closely at the… mutation? Toxin? You weren’t sure. Normally, this kind of mystery would delight you. You were excited at the prospect of making new discoveries, of course, but you were also worried. Would the research you were conducting on your own blood be able to fix a problem you’d never seen before and hadn’t accounted for during testing? The best way to find out what would happen if you mixed your blood with Viktors was to do just that.

You prepared a secondary slide, focused the microscope, then pricked your finger. Carefully, you picked up a tiny bit of your blood on the end of a scalpel and dropped it into Viktor’s on the slide. You peered through the lens, holding your breath. With other samples of diseased blood, the common trend was that your blood would mix with the foreign sample and dissolve whatever anomaly it found present, whether that be an infection or something else, rendering it harmless. From there, the theory was that this bi-product would be filtered out of the blood when it traveled through the liver, and then be disposed of in the urine.

That was only a theory, however, because none of your subjects ever survived long enough to prove it. For some, death took seconds. For others, minutes, hours, or even days. For all of them, though, it was excruciating.

And this was why: After a few seconds of contact with your blood, Viktor’s cells began to burst. You expected no less. The main focus of your research was figuring out how to make your blood less volatile. You couldn’t figure out why it had the effect it did, and while some of your research had proven promising in delaying the inevitable, you had been unable to stop it entirely.

This small test was a good sign, despite the outcome. This proved that your blood could remove the anomaly from Viktor’s cells if it turned out to be harmful. You just had to find a way to get it to work without killing him, which is what you’d been trying to do for the last hundred years with no success. You sighed and leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose. There were other tests to run, other observations to be made. It could be that the blue ring was nothing more than a strange pigmentation phenomenon and wasn’t hurting him at all. It could be that his previous doctors had been so focused on this strange blue ring that they had completely missed a more obvious answer. The human body, so intricate and complex… Everything was connected. If one thing went wrong, everything was affected.

You stopped by Heimerdinger’s office later that evening, around five, with dinner for Viktor.

“The apple wasn’t enough?” he asked slyly when you set the bag of take-out on the desk next to him.

“I’m afraid it’s going to take more than an apple to keep this doctor away. Sorry,” you smirked.

“What if I throw it hard enough?”

You chuckled and pulled up an extra chair to sit next to him. He put down the notes he was organizing for Heimerdinger and opened the bag to see what you had brought him. A fresh, hot, healthy meal awaited him, and while he didn’t usually have much of an appetite, the smell of it was making his mouth water.

“Any breakthroughs?” he asked as he fished the fork out of the bag.

“Breakthroughs? No. Curious observations? Many.”

“Do tell.”

“There’s still more testing to be done, but what I can tell you is that your blood is healthy, except for one thing.”

“Oh?”

You nabbed the orange out of the bag and peeled it for him.

“There’s an… anomaly," you explained. A blue ring around the hemoglobin in each red cell that shouldn’t be there.”

“Anomaly indeed,” Viktor agreed, his brows furrowed. “So what does this mean?”

“Like I said, there’s more testing to be done to find out what that ring actually is and what effect its having on your body. It could just be pigmentation.”

“But then, what’s causing it?”

You shrugged.

“That’s the million dollar question. A question I’m afraid I’ll have to take a lot more samples in order to answer. Samples of more than just your blood.”

He tilted his head to the side, not quite understanding.

“Plasma and bone, primarily.”

Oh. Those were not pleasant samples to give.

“But those can wait for now” you assured him with a soft smile when you saw the sick look on his face.

After dinner, you took Viktor to your lab to show him the slides and explained what he was seeing, chatting at length about the possible causes and effects of the mysterious blue ring. Then, when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, it was time for Viktor to show you to the Undercity, where you hoped his medical records could be found.

The Undercity was damp and smelly, with a comforting darkness pierced by blinding neon lights. The gaze of every Trencher was on you and Viktor as you wound through the narrow, muddy streets, some glittering with greed as they took in your expensive clothes, and others darkened by fear when your red-hot gaze found theirs. You were on edge and Viktor could tell.

“Relax, will you?” he said as he limped along.

“Not sure I can do that,” you chuckled dryly.

The streets became thinner, the buildings more dense and compact the farther down you traveled. The deeper he led you, the thicker and more oppressive the air became, as well. It didn’t take long for Viktor to start coughing.

“Stop, Viktor,” you said, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “I can find my way from here. I want you to go back where the air is nicer.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but another coughing fit overtook him. When he finally got control of it, he nodded.

“I’ll met you on the bridge.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I want you to stay close. Meet me at the edge The Lanes.”

Worried I’m going to get mugged, are you?” he smirked.

“Of course I am.”

His smirk fell, and he frowned.

“The people of The Undercity aren’t animals, doctor.”

“No, but some of them are desperate, and you would make an easy mark.”

“That applies to people in Piltover, too, you know.”

“I know. Which is why I would be asking you to stick close if we were up there, too.”

He sighed. He wanted to be offended, to argue that he could take care of himself, but instead, he found your protectiveness… endearing.

“At the edge of The Lanes, then,” he agreed.

It wasn’t a long walk back, and anyone who so much as looked at Viktor shied away when they saw you watching. He would be fine. As he limped away, you turned and continuing deeper into The Fissures. The air down here wasn’t necessarily toxic anymore, thanks to the filtration system that House Kirraman had installed years ago. But it was still heavy, and, gods, the smell. Like sulfur and sewage. The people down here regarded you with mistrust. Topsiders didn't come down here unless they were there for shady dealings. You didn't belong... Or did you? You were scary enough to fit in, that was for sure, but your clothes betrayed your status. You yourself were an anomaly in the veins of The Undercity.

You approached one of the first people you encountered, but she scurried away, hissing obscenities, before you could ask your question. It took you quite some time to find anyone willing to point you toward Viktor��s former doctor. When you did finally find him, you were not impressed in the least. Actually, you were appalled. The “hospital” was nothing more than a run-down shack. It may have been a proper hospital at one point, but now it was nothing more than dirt and grime on some old boards.

A bell chimed overhead when you opened the door and stepped inside. Somehow, the air in here was even stuffier than out there. You curled your lip, disgusted at the state of the place. It didn’t look like it had been cleaned in years. Bottles with various colored liquids filled shelves alongside ancient medical tools. You were thankful the glass on the bottles was so filthy. Some of the things floating in them were… questionable. You weren’t sure you wanted to know exactly what they contained.

An older man with a potbelly appeared from a door in the back. He wore a leather apron, stained with old, dried blood, and the frizzy white hair atop his head stuck out at odd angles. He was hunched and limped when he walked, and one of his eyes seemed to be glued permanently shut with some kind of greenish pus. He looked more like a mad scientist than a doctor.

“How can I help?” he asked with a voice like gravel, resting his fat, filthy hands on the reception desk.

“My name is Doctor Raven. I’m here regarding a former patient of yours, Viktor. I need his medical records.”

He didn’t react for a moment, and you wondered if he’d heard you at all. Finally, he nodded slowly.

“Viktor, yes… I remember now.”

“Do you have his records?” you asked.

He grumbled and looked around.

“I think… Yes…”

He shuffled back into the back room and was gone for ages before finally reappearing with a file. He handed it to you, and you were thankful you’d worn your gloves as you took it from him. You opened it. Three pages.

“This is it?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He shrugged.

“There wasn’t much to record. Bad bones, bad blood.”

You scoffed and shook your head.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you turned to leave.

He cleared his throat loudly, catching your attention, and you heard him shuffle up behind you. He glared at you, his hand out, palm up.

Of course.

You fished a few coins out of your pocket and handed them to him, careful not to make contact.

You were frustrated and in poor spirits when you met back up with Viktor. He stood when you approached, eyes bright and curious.

“Did you find him?”

You held up the file.

“Not sure it was worth our time, but yes.”

He took the file and thumbed through it.

“This is it?” he asked.

“I asked the same thing.”

“I visited him hundreds of times while I lived down here, and this is all he has…” He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“I’ll make do,” you assured him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You stuck close to his side as you picked your way back through the broken streets to the bridge, giving more than a few warning growls to those with greedy eyes and sticky fingers. You stopped halfway across.

“Go ahead,” you said. “I think I’m going to linger for a bit. I want to have a look around. This place disgusts me, I won’t lie, but… It’s also exactly the kind of place I want to help. The kind of people I want to help.”

Viktor smiled.

“Take your time, Doctor.”

You did take your time, talking with those that would give you the time of day, asking about their health and their woes. You knew that the Upper City didn’t care much for those below, but you didn’t realize the full extent of their neglect. You were glad that Viktor got out of there. Eventually, you found your way to a bar called The Last Drop. The barkeeper greeted you heartily and asked what you’d like to drink. You declined the drink politely and instead continued your investigation.

“Yeah, things can get pretty bad down here,” he said quietly. “We don’t have much in the way of medical attention, but the doctors we do have do what they can to help. On top of that, the food down here isn’t great. We have plenty of seafood, but fresh fruit and vegetables are few and far between.”

You nodded, listening intently. He leaned forward on the bar.

“What’s a fancy doctor like you doing down here anyway?” he asked, more quietly.

“I came with a patient, to get medical records from his former doctor. I’ve only been in Piltover for two days, and I have to admit, I’m not delighted to see how they treat this part of their population.”

He scoffed.

“Topside couldn’t care less about what goes on down here in the Trenches.”

“Yes, that’s the conclusion I came to as well,” you said quietly.

“Sure I can’t get you a drink?” he asked. “You look like you could use one.”

You chuckled.

“No, thank you. I should be heading back. Thanks for talking with me.”

You tried to give him some coin for his time and information, but he refused with a chuckle.

“No need for that, Doctor. You just do what you can to help the people down here, and we'll call it even. Hey, what’s your name, before you go?”

“Raven,” you answered as you stepped down from the barstool. “Doctor Raven.”

“Vander,” he said, offering his hand.

You didn’t want to touch the Fissures doctor, but Vander’s hand, you didn’t hesitate to shake.

“Until next time, then, Vander.”

You bid him farewell and made your way back toward home, following the path illuminated by the silver glow of the moon.

#my writing #arcane #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x male reader #vampire reader #viktor x reader #viktor x male reader

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limpfisted · 1 year ago

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Something I think taken for granted for "good and heroic" characters like wyll is

How hard it is to be a hero in settings like this in gen. especially a solo hero.

And then u look at will especially at 17, especially after just losing half of your vision, and now being obligated to hunt devils for mizora, and not being able to tell people who you are or why you have magical powers

Wylls life has been extremely difficult.

Hes not "some rich boy." In fact, he tells you himself, he never really was. His father became grand Duke when he was 17. His father was a Duke before that, but his father was born to a poor blacksmith father and he was the youngest of six, so he worked his way up the ranks. Even as son of a Duke and grandduke---ulder was champion of the poorer "mythical middle class" lower city. All nobles and patriars are from the upper city. There's no way wyll wasn't looked down on by the upper city and then held to a certain untouchable standard as the flaming fist brat by the lower city/outer city people

And yet even at being some "rich boy" he excelled thru hard work and dedication, making things into a competition if nothing else, in which despite his Father's unsurpance to power, he still had PROOF he was the most charming, after all, he held the record for most sarabandes danced in a single evening, much to the exhaustion to the good lords and ladies of the courts.

But even so, with this "cushy life" (where he would get into trouble, mind you! Where his father would encourage him to get into fights, who would train him with a rapier, where he would drink in taverns in the lower city at 14 despite being "a noble rich boy" and hand deliver letters from his father to sharess's caress before he ever knew what went on with the pretty men and handsome ladies behind closed doors.)

Have you ever been camping, like experienced the holy shit, Outside of it all? I dont even like leaving the house without my phone. Wyll, 17, traveled all over the sword coast, with one eye, who knows how many supplies.

While wyll laughs off the trauma of it, losing an eye is a real ass disability that affects your motor skills. It can be difficult to do things like cut food at first, and it can take like 6 months WITH THERAPY for everything to feel "normal" again. Now imagine fending off goblins, and minotaurs, with no therapy, no physical therapy, no doctor. Having to navigate the cold of winter, cursed lands, mountains, all by yourself.

Having to learn to use you sword again, this time without your father. Remembering him every time you pick it up. Remembering the way he looked at you every time you face down a "devil." Spitting the words he would later say to you at them. They stink of avernus, they have brought ruin

Wyll dedicated his life to laboring for the people of the Sword Coast. It's not easy. He makes it look fun, because he's so proud of himself and happy to be helping people

But its actually hard and lonely. And it doesn't come easy, even to Wyll, I think. He had to train himself, it probably took him a long time to figure out what he was doing

I dont think wyll is really as inexperienced and naive as people think. Hes been to avernus, he's fought dragons and minotaurs. He's seen terrible things, he's STOPPED terrible things, and he's going to continue doing so, and choosing to do so, with the full knowledge of what that decision means, and the hard work and sacrifice it requires.

he's fully aware of who he is and what he's capable of, and he's extremely brave and strong and competent

Its good to be good for the sake of being good! And wyll does believe in fairy tales. But his dedication to the blade doesn't come because he's misinformed. Is he as experienced and powerful as he thinks he is? No, he's 24 LOL. But he's still done a lot! Has YOUR muse hunted devils thru avernus? Has ur muse even BEEN to avernus?

Wyll ravengard genuinely is improvising half the time---but more important than simply "being" good and wanting to do good----Wyll has the experience, practice and competence in serving a community to actually BETTER and protect communities.

In fandom spaces we often talk about how certain characters are "just so good" but we like. We forget about the effort it takes to actually commit to acts of doing good, the practice and perservance it takes to competently serve the community.

You can give the people the shirt off ur back but u run out of shirts eventually. Wyll has made himself an important resource on the Sword Coast for its safety. And I think we take that for granted bc its a genre staple, but like. He worked really hard. He dedicated himself to this.

He sold his soul, and he kept living and doing good anyway

#ooc #hc #in general i think fandom doesnt think about wyll as disabled #but it affected his life bro

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bau-drabbles · 2 years ago

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haunted

emily, one of your close friends in the bau, comes back and after months of crying over her death you're not sure how to feel. it hurts the most when the deception also comes from aaron, the man you've loved for so long

a/n: idk how i feel about it. it's very rushed because half of it was deleted and i couldn't be bothered to go back and rewrite it properly.

aaron hottie angst again because his pain is so beautifully upsetting. kinda long so enjoy 🤍

part 2 :)

"everybody, have a seat" aaron's voice is more tense than usual, as if he was about to announce some bad news. your heart races but you walked in, grabbing a seat next to morgan. jj stands beside hotch and she looks almost worried, toying with her fingers. your brows knitted in confusion, wondering what was so urgent

"why, what's going on? everything all right?" spencer asked, his brow raised.

"seven months ago, i made a decision that affected this team. as you all know, emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with doyle," hotch began

"but the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from boston to bethesda under covert exfiltration. her identity was strictly need-to-know. and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. she was reassigned to paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security" he finishes but there's pin drop silence in return. his arms had folded over awaiting a response but everyone was shocked to say a thing

your heart feels like it's plummeted at the bottom of the earth, the breath completely knocked out from your lungs. you hope someone announces its a big joke but hotch looks at all of you expectantly. jj has her head slightly bowed, unable to make any eye contact and its then you realise she knew all along.

"she's alive?" you didn't even think you said it out loud but aaron looks at you, his brows in a tight frown. you see the truth spilled on his face and it stings immensely knowing how he saw you in your vulnerable moments and still decided not to say a thing

he knew all along

"but we buried her" someone else says but at that point you completely blank out, sinking further in your seat. hoping the ground would swallow you whole and remove the burden crushing your heart.

"as i said, i take full responsibility for the decision. if anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me" aaron looks at you again but you don't bother looking in his direction.

all those times, every single tear, every second of sadness, all of it was.... fake?

"any issues?? yeah, i got issues-" morgan started, standing up towards hotch. but he doesn't go far for garcia speaks again. her eyes are brimmed with tears, walking quickly towards the door

"oh, my god" and you turn, unable to register the vision in front of you

"i am so sorry, i really am. not a day went by that i didn't want to...really, i... you didn't deserve that and i'm so sorry" the voice you thought you'd never hear again in this lifetime spoke. there she genuinely was, in the living breathing flesh. garcia grabs her in a hug and they share a tearful laugh about something you can't hear.

"there is so much i want to tell you guys and-and i will, i promise" the woman you spent crying in private about for weeks was now alive, like nothing had even happened.

garcia embraces her tight again and jj, morgan, rossi and reid followed suit.

it doesn't comprehend there she genuinely was, actually physically standing there. so many emotions had run through you, unclear of which one it was. all you can think about was her in your arms actively dying and you crying as you screamed for medics to come.

so you remained silent, while everyone had hugged her you stood just looking. unsure of what to feel, unsure over how to act. it felt foreign and you get lost in the reality of the situation, not realising she had made her way towards you

"y/n..." emily walked closer a smile on her lips but you couldn't reciprocate it. how could she so... nonchalanant about everything? those nights you spent crying, the nights your heart had felt so hollow in your chest, all of that burned in your mind.

the anguish, the pain, the guilt, all of it was an illusion.

and aaron, the man with whom you had trusted with your whole life glanced at you through the corner. he doesn't know what to say, what could be said? unintentionally he had lied to you, comforted you through pain that didn't even exist. he saw you vulnerable after her death, he was the one that pieced you back. and now it felt like all the parts he held together were coming undone.

"emily" you nod, a tight lipped smile on yours. even just being in her presence is enough to tip you over the edge so you distract yourself, holding the file. how strange, a mere seven months ago you two were the closest of friends.

and now you barely even knew her

"i-" she opens her arms slightly to embrace you but you open your hands to give her the information. touching her felt too soon, you needed some time to think.

"this is the file with doyle and everything going on with the kid. we don't have time to spare" you nod, quickly hand it to her and walk straight for the coffee. it wasn't caffeine that was going to help you tonight but it didn't hurt to try

•••

"hey..." morgan finds you staring blankly at the wall with the pictures, trying to find the next step in the kidnapping. and no matter how much you tried to regain your composure, it cracked piece by piece. exposing your facade and your true feelings behind the matter.

you were determined to keep a straight front for your team but every time you saw emily and jj and especially hotch, it felt like a challenge you weren't sure you'd win

"hey" you continue to take through the information, trying to piece the murder but there's so much on your mind it all feels like its vanishing in the air. like nothing is registering in your brain.

"hey" jj comes in and you stiffen up, quickly catching some files and exiting the room. she calls your name but you simply walk straight for the hallway. true, it was a childish thing to do but you couldn't look at any of them without the overwhelming urge to break down.

aaron, however, catches you in the hallway and you step back not wanting to even touch him, unable to look at his deceiting face.

"i know what you've been through. i understand that you're angry but i hope that you understand that this is not about you or me. this was about saving emily" his tone is sharp, firm but you see the hurricane of emotions in his eyes.

the most dominant being sorrow. but that wasn't enough for you, you almost wanted him to experience the pain you'd felt.

"why do you care about what i think hotch? it never mattered before, evidently" you match his tone in return, trying to go about him.

"y/n i know you're disappointed how we handled emily but it wasn't in our control, we couldn't say anything" he stops you and you don't even want to look at him, he knew how hard it had been on you. and he still didn't breathe a word of her survival.

"you couldn't or you wouldn't?? don't pretend to care what i've been through hotch. i came to you crying for weeks on end and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth. not fucking once. what did you expect? i'd hug prentiss and all would be well? give me a break" you scoffed, pulling away from him. he stood stunned for a moment, his brows scrunched in a confused frown

"i know and i understand-" "i don't think you do. we have a kid that's about to die hotch, now is not the time" you utter, glaring as you walked by him.

•••

the plane ride was silent, moreso than usual. you noticed the glances your team was giving you but as long as the job was done efficiently, there wasn't really anything to say, you'd talk on your own time. just you and your book was enough for now.

all that was interrupted when a voice cut in. a voice you thought you weren't ready to hear just yet

"declan is little shaken up but the doctor said he'll be fine" she smiled at you, eyes looking at you but you refused to make any contact

"good. we got there in time" you commented, turning the page.

"yes..." she taps her fingers on the table, unsure on how to continue the conversation. part of you hopes she walks away, not ready to listen to her just yet.

"well we're going to rossi's tomorrow night. i want to see if he really can cook. are you coming?" she asked hopefully, a small smile on her lips

"i don't know, i'm not so sure i can make it" you leaned your elbow on the armrest, continuing to read the same sentence until she left.

"look, l/n, i know you're mad at us because we didn't tell you what really happened, and... i understand that. but i promise you, we had no choice" she begins and she sighs a little before looking directly at you.

"you mourned one friend, i mourned seven" she chuckled lightly, trying to make you see from her perspective. but you couldn't, the betrayal rang far too loudly in your ears.

his especially

"it's not a competition emily" you put your book down, directly looking at her eyes. everything you had been bursting to say left your lips before you could even comprehend it.

"you didn't carry my coffin, you didn't cry over someone that was presumably dead. do you know how many times i was angry at myself for not doing more? i kept replaying that moment when i held you, near enough lifeless and completely covered in blood. and all i could do was beg you to breathe and stay with me. you didn't take medications because every time you closed your damn eyes, all you could see was your dead friend in her own blood did you? don't pretend we're the same emily, you have no idea what i went through" with every word, you could feel the anger boiling deep inside of you. the annoyance coursing through your veins like wildfire.

"you could've given us a hint, a sign, anything to indicate proof of life. but i had to hold the pain over your death for months. so forgive me if i don't want to go through that again" your tone was sharp, picking up your book back to indicate the conversation was over

"y/n i'm sorry i-" she began softly but you shook your head

"look emily, i appreciate what you're trying to do. really. and i'm happy that you're back but i need time and space too. i can't do this job efficiently otherwise. so please..." you indicated for her to leave and she reluctantly stood up, wanting to say a million words. but none of them seemed quite correct

you hoped no one would come and try to talk, just wishing this plane ride would end quickly and you'd be in the safe sanctuary of your bedroom

and for once your wish is granted

•••

the precinct was empty, dark and cold. replicating how you felt on the inside.

your bag was in your office and you hoped everyone was gone, you couldn't handle seeing their faces.

it was hard, because on the one hand your friend was back. you wanted to rejoice, and hug her so tight but the way it all happened... it felt wrong.

"y/n" and there it is. the voice you definitely didn't want to hear tonight

"aaron" you reply in response, turning around to face him. he looks dishevelled, almost as if he had to run to catch you back here. on any other day before, it would've made you fawn over his adorableness but it didn't stir a thing in you now.

"i know what i did was inexcusable. i know you're hurt, i know it could've been handled better. i realise that but you have to understand that this wasn't my order. if you had known, it would've put you in a compromising position too" he comes close until he's standing a foot away. his eyes are aligt with an emotion you've never seen him use before, pleading

"i just can't get over it hotch. i'm so happy she's back and under different circumstances i would've celebrated it. but i can't because you lied to me. for months and months" you want to fall in to his arms, to forget about everything that had transpired tonight but it would solve nothing. so you stay where you are, the ache in your heart growing by the minute.

"and for that i deeply apologise" before, this would have solved your problems. but now it felt like the gasoline added to the fire.

"you don't care about me aaron and i'm fooling myself if i keep pretending that everything is okay"

"i do y/n, i just need time. i just-"

"how much time?? how much longer can i be expected to wait?? how much longer can i pretend that you actually care about me-"

"i do care!" "oh you do?? you watched me cry for months. does that sound like caring? and you never want to progress further in this. how can i be with someone who doesn't care? emily coming back was just the icing. you'd use anything and anyone to get what you want hotch. you don't care about anyone, much less me"

"is that what you think of me?" he whispers, eyes narrowing at you

"it's what i know of you. from the moment i met you to now. i thought it was fine at first. but i can't do it. do you have any idea how.... hard it is to love you?" every word was a dagger to his heart, twisting and twisting until it was difficult to breathe.

"i'm done. i need a break. from you, from the bau, from everyone" you let out a shaky sigh, hugging your bag closer to your body. the man before you was your lifeline and now it felt like you were drowning in the depths of him. the only way to save yourself would be to remove yourself from his grasp, to pretend that he, your lover, never existed. he was aaron hotchner, your boss. he would never be the man you were so desperately and hopelessly in love with.

"y/n please don't-"

"i'm taking my holidays. don't contact me, don't find me. i just really.... don't want to see you ever" with that you stormed out of the room, away from him and his presence. away from his beautiful face you came to adore, away from all the memories you would forever cherish until your last breath.

but no amount of miles between you both could ever be enough

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction

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davidtennan-t · 5 months ago

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May Noble Guide You. Always.

Donna is always looking out for ways to help her best friend.

Major angst but a happy ending! Inspired by this post, because I still think about Fourteen morning, noon and night.

And yes, Skyrim is involved.

1592 words - also available on AO3

“Hey, Spaceman?”

“Yeah, Donna?”

A pause.

“Have you ever dabbled in video games?”

The Doctor glanced up from the toaster he was tinkering with, eyes peeking over the top of his glasses. Even after so many years of travelling, living, experiencing, he was sure he’d never been asked such a question before.

“Hm, not really,” he answered after a second of musing, “never really been my thing, with this face or any of my other faces. Not even the younger version of this face.”

Donna nodded and returned her attention back to her laptop.

An article was open on her screen, which she was attentively scrolling through.

‘Gaming as therapy? Research shows video games can provide distraction and escapism.’

“Oh, wait!”

Donna nearly jumped out of her seat – she still wasn’t used to his sudden outbursts, even if he had been living with them for nearly half a year now, and she had of course travelled with him all those years ago.

Some things never changed.

“Could you announce your brainwaves any louder?” she uttered but turned to listen.

“I once saved Rose from certain death by playing pinball,” the Doctor explained, “true story. And I did have a run-in with Iwatani Tohru when an alien invaded his base model for Pac Man… lovely bloke, he was. There was also that time I tried to stay with the Ponds, played on something called a ‘Wii’. Oh! Yaz once challenged me to a game of Tetris – I wasn’t very good at it.”

Somehow Donna knew that last part was a lie by the way his nose scrunched up. She shook her head in amusement.

“I won’t even ask,” she smirked. The Doctor smirked back and returned to his tinkering.

As she continued to read the article, listening to the sounds of the toaster slowly being dissected, Donna wondered if the idea forming in her mind would be worth it.

She would do anything to help her best friend. Even if they’d found ways and means to help him in this ‘semi-retirement’ period, it didn’t hurt to try new methods.

“Why’d you ask?”

Donna glanced up to the form of the tinkering Time Lord again and smiled.

“No reason, just curious… Rose dabbled with gaming for a while, but I don’t think it’s really her thing.”

The Doctor’s expression formed acknowledgement, just as a couple of screws fell onto the dining table.

“By the way, you know what happened last time you tinkered with that toaster. You can apologise to the fire crew this time, not me,” Donna smirked, “anyway, it’s time for dinner – your turn to make the toasties. And how you’re gonna make them without the toaster, I’ll never know.”

“I’ll use the grill!”

“You nearly blew the house up last time.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

Guess it was time to put the toaster back together.

A couple of weeks later, the Doctor was riding a storm. It was an invisible one, but Donna could see how hard it was affecting him this time.

Odd little things would begin to happen. His smile wouldn’t be as bright, his movements became slower, and his voice lost its erratic spark – the family were reminded they were living with an old, wounded man who’d been through unimaginable horrors.

It started with a nightmare, this time. Or, maybe it didn’t… Donna told herself the Time Lord didn’t always need a reason to feel the way he did. He didn't need a trigger point.

He’d told her himself – he’d lived a lot and suffered in the fifteen years since they’d travelled together.

He’d lost a lot.

And sometimes, that hit him like a brick wall.

“Doctor?” Donna announced quietly as she walked into the living room. It was just the two of them in the house for the afternoon, but she’d barely saw or spoke to the Doctor since breakfast. He’d hidden in the TARDIS for a while, but then she’d spotted that skinny frame trudging back into the house as she’d pottered in the garden.

And here he was. Sat on the sofa, hunched over, elbows on his skinny legs with his hands hiding his face. His hair seemed messier than normal, and he wasn’t even wearing that waistcoat of his.

“You okay?”

No response.

Donna didn’t hesitate to sit down right beside him, silently letting him know she was close.

Almost immediately, the Doctor uncurled himself with a heavy inhale, realising he wasn’t alone anymore.

Donna didn’t need to see the tear stains on his cheeks to know he’d been crying.

And then, the Doctor shuffled towards her like a wounded animal and wrapped both arms around her, while burying his face into her shoulder.

Donna’s arms wrapped around him in turn without hesitation. She gently held the back of his head, her fingers gently massaging through his hair – he seemed to like that. It calmed him, even if he’d never admit to it.

Silence prolonged for a few minutes.

Donna glanced over at the TV. Or rather, she glanced at the brand-new box sat beside it. A black box with a remote control perched on top. It was funnily shaped, almost like a Sontaran ship.

Obviously, she hadn’t mentioned that part to the checkout man when she’d purchased it.

Perhaps it was time to put that box to use. The box that held these forms of escapism and adventure... maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn’t – but she was willing to give it a try.

“You’re okay, Spaceman,” Donna whispered to break the silence, returning her attention back to the Time Lord, “I’m right here.”

“I know you are,” came the muffled reply from her shoulder – not in his ‘I’m not that dumb’ tone, but rather a proclamation of ‘I’m so glad you’re with me.’

His voice was still shaky and rough, so Donna gently leaned back to rest against the soft cushions of the sofa, while the Doctor followed and tucked himself against her, those long legs curling up like a cheetah after a run. She knew he was feeling rough when he didn’t want to leave her side, not for a while at least.

“M’sorry,” the Doctor said in a muffle. Donna heard the guilt in his voice, and she wouldn’t have it.

“Don’t be so daft,” she said softly, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. You’re home… and home is where you’re looked after.”

She kept a hand on the back of his head, stroking through his wiry brown but greying hair.

And they sat like that for ten minutes. A sad but comfortable silence.

And then, Donna decided it was time – time to see if that box beside the TV could bring her best friend a new form of comfort.

“I have something for you to try,” she announced.

The Doctor knew what those words meant. It meant Donna was trying for him. His old, arrogant and younger-self wouldn’t have entertained any such ideas she laid out for him, but now, he did… he wanted to.

“What’s that?” the Doctor asked, sniffing lightly.

“Wait here,” Donna told him, gently easing herself away from the Doctor so she could get up and walk to the TV.

The Doctor watched, intrigued, as the TV lit up and beeps emitted from the large black box, now glowing green.

He didn’t question anything. Not even when Donna returned to him with some sort of controller in hand. He sat up and took it from her when she offered it out to him.

“It’s all set up for you. Rose helped me do it… pick any game you like. I’ll be making supper if you need me.”

An hour or so later, Donna hadn’t heard a peep from the Doctor.

All she could hear over the boiling potatoes and the rather noisy air fryer, where odd sounds coming from the TV. With everything prepped and ready, Rose and Shaun due home shortly, she took off her oven mitts and returned to the living room.

There, she found the Doctor, in a very different state to how she’d found him earlier.

He was perched on the edge of the sofa, but his head wasn’t in his hands this time.

Instead, his long fingers were gripping the controller, his tired but intrigued eyes watching the screen while his thumbs moved the joysticks.

Donna’s heart suddenly felt very, very full.

“Enjoying yourself?” she asked.

The Doctor didn’t stop what he was doing – on the screen, there was a cat-like creature wearing rags running around a medieval looking city.

“I used to be an adventurer like you… then I took an arrow in the knee.” Came a voice from the TV, between the calming melody of music.

Donna didn’t have a clue about any of it, but she smiled.

“It’s interesting, I’ll give you that,” finally came the reply. “I’m supposed to be alerting some Jarl about a dragon. But I thought the flowers were more interesting, so I’m collecting them.”

Donna still didn’t have a clue, but she nodded.

“Okay, well, not too much longer, mister… Shaun and Rose will be back shortly, and supper is nearly ready.”

“Whatever you say, Mum,” the Doctor acknowledged.

Donna shook her head with a smile and decided to return to the kitchen.

“Donna-”

She stopped, looking back towards the sofa. The Doctor was looking at her, a small smile on his face. A smile which she could see was ladened with an appreciation, perhaps some relief, even.

“This is helping,” he said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Spaceman.”

#i know i have an unfinished fic to do but cmooooon #angst is calling #fourteenth doctor #donna noble #fourteen x donna #doctor who #david tennant #my fic

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unidentifiedly · 6 months ago

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Mutually beneficial exchange

House x reader R18

- In which house realizes he might have met his match. Oh, and he's got nothing to complain about, for once.

You were determined. This time you were going to get those folders from him. You walked along a corridor in an emptier part of the hospital, and quickly found what you were looking for.

It was hard enough being a freshly graduated trainee, but Cuddy had (in her infinite wisdom) placed you to train under the one and only doctor House.

"Hi House. Slacking off again?" The man's eyes still fixed on his magazine: "Yep. Don’t you have some boring clinic work to do?"

"I could ask you the same question!" You huffed, feigning annoyance.

"True. Why don’t you? Too afraid of disappointing Cuddy when you lose to me in this conversation?"

You pull out a chair from under the desk in the fairly empty room and take a seat opposite to him. "I could never disappoint Cuddy and you know that. I'm at the clinic all the time, and, unlike you, I do my paperwork!"

He rolls his eyes.

"Ugh Yeah, okay. You’re, like, the only person at this hospital who does paperwork. You want a trophy for it?" His little comebacks are quick but there's a glint of playfulness behind his sky blue eyes.

You smile. "Not a trophy, but maybe some recognition would be nice."

He sighs heavily but relents a little.

You do work pretty hard. I guess you deserve a little bit of recognition for that.

Mhhmm. Your eyes travel from his eyes to his lips and back.

He notices you looking at his lips and wonders if you’re trying to hint at something, but he doesn’t want to give anything away.

He tries to keep a straight face but he’s fighting back a smirk.

You notice him leaning closer toward you on his chair. He might not be doing it on purpose, but he definitely is interested in at least something. You make subtle adjustments to your posture and hip position.

"See that's what I think too! What kind of token recognition would you have in mind, doctor?" You put on your sweetest voice.

He’s acutely aware of every movement you make, but tries to remain blasé.

"Something for being a good little worker bee, I suppose." He gives you one of his signature smiles.

"Awh." You raise your eyebrow in a challenging way. "I was kinda hoping you would take the initiative here sir." The "sir" comes out almost mockingly, but he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems amused.

He smirks.

"Oh so you want me to reward you?"

"Well, it's me who has been working so hard, and you the one who has been hardly working!"

You lean in to whisper in his ear:

"Although, I don't see why it couldn't still be rewarding for both of us." You lean away a bit so you are facing each other, waiting for him to react.

He shivers a little when you whisper. He wasn’t expecting to be that affected, but that’s what you do to him.

He tries to keep his cool and stay aloof, but his voice is a little huskier when he responds:

"You’ve been working very hard, I’ll give you that."

He locks eyes with you, trying to figure out what you have in mind.

Not moving your head away, you reach his pants' tightening waistline with your hand and look down.

With a chuckle, you say: "And you haven't been working, and are clearly hard."

You lightly trace the outlines of his growing bulge with your fingers. Now is the time for him to act, if ever.

His breath catches in his chest, and his lips part involuntarily. He can barely stop his hips from bucking up against your hand.

His voice is rough when he talks; he’s trying to hold himself back, desperately, but it’s a losing battle.

"You’re… You’re a real brat, you know that?"

"Mmhm. And are you going to do something about it?" You lean further in and whisper the last words with your lips almost touching his.

He grabs you roughly by the hips and moves you onto his lap. He looks you dead in the eyes with a mix of lust and challenge in his gaze.

"Oh, I’m gonna do something about it, alright. You just remember that you asked for it, princess."

He closes the distance between you and you kiss him back. First mixing in small bites at his lower lip, you're practically making him groan.

It doesn’t take him long to respond with his own aggressive touches.

He slips one hand under your shirt, his fingers moving across your skin with a feather-like touch. The feeling of your teeth on his lip has him aching and struggling to keep his cool.

You stop the kiss by grabbing him by his jaw playfully and start slowly getting up. He looks like a lost puppy.

House looks up at you, his expression one of both annoyance and arousal.

"And where are you going? You can’t just tease me and then walk away."

You I point at the clock.

"It's my lunch hour. I promised to eat with Wilson and discuss the upcoming gala dinner speeches. As for this" I gesture at his obvious erection, "I'd love to help you out, I get off work at five." Your tone is challenging and seductive.

You want to win this one. He has to make an effort and a move in order to get you in bed with him, no matter how much you may want it too.

He lets out a huff of irritation and crosses his arms across his chest. He’s not happy about this, but he’s also intrigued. He’s not going to give in to you that easily.

"Fine. Go have lunch with Wilson."

He’s trying his damndest to act like he doesn’t care, but the way he shifts in his seat betrays his discomfort and desire.

"Are you jealous, House?"

He looks at you through narrowed eyes, his expression giving away nothing. He’s not about to admit that he is — or that your little stunt has him riled up.

Jealous? No. Why on Earth would I be jealous of that old codger?

"Well, here you are all hot and bothered, and the cute young straight out of medschool trainee who got you in that state is about to leave you hanging to have lunch with your best friend. Why would you be jealous?"

His jaw tenses, and he grits his teeth. He knows you’re baiting him and it’s working.

He knows he should just laugh this off, but his ego and need to feel in control (and the fact that you look like a goddamn dream sitting in his lap) are working against him.

"You really are a little brat, aren’t you." His voice gruff and barely holding together.

You smile and kiss him again, starting to move in an effort to get up, which elicits a groan from him since you are still on his lap.

He grabs you by the hips again, holding you where you are. He can’t help but let out a small moan when you move, but he’s determined not to show how affected he really is.

"You’re not going anywhere yet, sweetheart."

You decide to toy with him more.

"And what are you going to do to stop me from my lunch plans? You better have something worth my time planned out for me mister."

You start a low pace grinding movement with your hips, making sure not to give him the full satisfaction he yearns for. You can feel his grip on your hips tightening a bit, and hear his heart racing.

His voice is a little shaky as he responds, his eyes fixed on your face. The feeling of you grinding down in his lap is heavenly but not enough. He wants, no, needs more. He can’t help but jerk his hips upward trying to get more friction, and the way you move is driving him crazy.

"You know damn well what I’m gonna do if you don’t quit teasing me."

"Do it then." You smirk and move your hands across his neck, chest, stomach and abdomen to rest on both sides of his still-clothed aching cock.

He lets out a guttural moan, his eyes closing shut for a moment before he regains his composure and opens them to look at you again.

The way you move your hands over him, teasing and taunting, is too much to bear. House decides he’s done playing your game. He growls, grabbing your wrists in his hands.

"You’re playing with fire, sweetheart."

You let out a surprised moan and pivot your eyes to look at House, his hungry gaze staring right back. You shimmy up to get a better balance with your legs, and start grinding a little harder, in circles, ready to drive him crazy. You fail to mask the desire in your voice, and it trembles as you let out:

"Please, sir."

House’s hands tighten on your wrists involuntarily, his body jerking under you. The way you’re moving, the way you’re begging is making him lose the last shred of restraint he has.

"God, princess. Do you want it that bad?"

You nod as you keep grinding, now feeling the pleasurable tension of his hardness against your clit as you grind on him.

"Ye- yes! I do."

House’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your body move on top of him. His grip on your wrists loosen to allow them to move, and he moves his hands to your hips instead.

He tries to guide your hips to move a little faster, a little harder, to give you both more of the friction you need, but it just feels too damn good.

He’s panting now, trying to hold back, but failing miserably.

"Say it again, princess. Tell me how bad you want it."

"Please, p-please, I need you so bad, I need your cock House, please!"

House shudders, the sound of those words coming from you is enough to make him lose his mind. He lets out an involuntary hiss, and he’s done pretending to be in control of himself. He moves his hands up from your hips to your back, pulling you closer so your chest is almost flush against his.

He growls in your ear, his voice rough:

"You want me? You need me?"

"I need you, sir, please!" The honorific seems to take his desire to an even higher level.

The "sir" on your lips makes him moan again and he tamps down his frustration at how much it turned him on.

He bites your neck, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin there in a bid to keep himself occupied. He responds in a low, gravelly voice.

"Good girl. You’re going to have me, sweetheart. All of me."

Your hands meet his belt once again, this time starting to open it up. All of his sweet talk and the grinding making you a tad slower. He seems to have lost his patience for waiting around.

House bats your hands away, making quick work of his belt while keeping his eyes locked onto yours. He’s getting more impatient by the second, but he wants to take his time with you and make sure you both feel good.

He grabs your hips again and pulls you closer, his breath hot on your throat.

"Patience, princess. Let me take care of you first."

You, however, have other ideas. You pull his pants to his knees and promptly guide his hand onto your lower stomach closer to your hot core.

"Please sir, I can't wait much longer." Your right hand caressing his cock from on top of his underwear makes him hiss again and throw his head back in pleasure.

House moans and bucks up against your hand, his eyes squeezing shut. He can’t get enough of the way you touch him, the way you say his name. The way you’re begging him.

"Oh, baby girl. You’re gonna be the death of me."

He slides his hand below your skirt, his fingers tracing over the fabric of your panties and seeking out the heat between your legs.

"You’re all worked up, huh? You want me that badly?"

You look down at where you're sitting on his lap, the heat drawing each other closer and closer.

Your breath hitches in your throat for a second when you reach your hand to pull down his underwear, releasing his thick cock which springs up to slap against his abdomen.

You look into his eyes and start to slowly rub circles around the head of his cock with your thumb.

He moans as your hands glide over his cock, his head falling backwards against the chair and wall behind him.

You continue the massage, which soon turns into a full blown handjob. His hands having moved to keep a firm grip of your ass while you use both of your hands to pleasure him.

House is enjoying the way you’re working him, but he wants more. He leans forward, his lips against your ear as he speaks in a low, ragged voice.

"Princess, you don’t know what you’re doing to me. You’re driving me insane."

"You're saying you want to take this further, sir?"

House looks into your eyes for a moment, his gaze intense and unwavering. He’s not about to back down now. He leans in close, his breath hot on your neck as his hands continue to roam you body.

He murmurs the words into your skin:

"I want you, sweetheart. I want all of you, if you’ll let me."

You get up and hear his protests. However, they stop once he realizes what you're doing, and he concentrates on enjoying the show.

You pull your soaked panties down one leg at a time, making sure to sway your hips and look seductive in the process.

With the panties on the floor, you slowly walk closer to him while unbuttoning your shirt, revealing no bra underneath.

House’s eyes are practically glued to your body, drinking in the way you move and the sight of your bare skin.

He’s absolutely entranced as you walk toward him, the shirt unbuttoned tantalizingly slowly. He can’t help but let out an appreciative moan as you reveal yourself to him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

"Come on, Doctor sir, you can touch."

You beckon him as you climb back agonizingly slowly, and hover over his lap.

House lets out a low growl, the sound guttural. His eyes rake over your body and he can’t help but reach out to touch you. His hands slide over your thighs, caressing the skin under his palm. When he feels you hovering over him, he can’t take it anymore.

You smile and reach for his cock, pumping up and down a few times before aligning it with your pussy.

"You've been a good boy, sir, you've earned this."

You sit down and moan in pleasure, closing your eyes and grabbing onto the back of the chair behind his neck.

The way you’re moving is absolutely sinful, and House isn’t sure how much more he can take.

He grips the arms of the chair as you start a slow movement, gradually taking it up to a good-paced bounce, drinking in the sight of the great doctor House under you, under your spell.

House’s head falls back as you move, his mouth falling open in a low moan. The sight of you riding him, taking control over him, is almost too much. He tries to maintain eye contact with you, but his eyes are half-lidded with lust.

He reaches out to touch you, his hands caressing your skin and holding onto your hips, guiding your movements as best he can. He can’t get the words out, he’s lost in the feeling of you around him and the sight of you above him.

He groans, getting closer to his release, and so are you.

House is getting closer to his peak, the feel of your body against his and the sight of you above him working him into frenzy.

He lets out another guttural moan, his eyes closing tightly as he tries to hold on for just a little longer. His fingers dig into the skin at your hips, his body tense as he fights against the overwhelming feeling building inside him.

"Co- come on, sir cum for me." You try to whisper but half of the words come out trembling and louder than you intended.

His hips buck up, hitting a delicious spot in you, and you finish at the same time, both left panting on the same chair.

House slumps back into the chair, completely boneless and satisfied. He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

One hand is still gripping your hip, keeping you close and on his cock. He opens his eyes and looks up at you, a lazy smile on his face.

"You’re gonna kill me one day, princess."

"How about you take me out on a date before that? As a thanks for this." You wave your hand around, implying that "this" meant the reason behind your disheveled states.

House chuckles, a smirk on his face. He’s still a little dazed and spent from what just happened, but he’s not about to say no to a date. Especially not with you.

"A date, huh? You’re on, darling. I’ll take you out somewhere nice. Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?"

You shake your head. "Nu-uh. You choose the place. Just tell me what to wear so I won't look out of place." You start fixing your button up shirt and getting up, smoothing your skirt and wiping up the mess from your thighs.

House watches you for a moment as you fix your clothes, his eyes roaming over your body. He can’t help but admire the way you look, elegant, even after just having gotten completely undone with him.

He starts mumbling absent-mindedly: "Why don’t you wear something classy. Something… elegant. I’ve got a place in mind."

You truly were a perfect trainee. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect tits that bounce so nicely when -

"Sounds good, sir! I'm taking this, by the way."

You grab a folder from a side desk. The very folder which he was keeping from you earlier, already hearing the shuffling of him trying to get up to stop you.

House lets out an exasperated moan as you grab one of the folders. He tries to lunge toward you, but his leg protests with a stab of pain. He curses under his breath and glares at you.

"Hey, no. Give that back." Look at him, trying to be stern.

"Not a chance. You can have these instead, deal?"

Something lands on his face. His lips spread into a wide smirk as he looks at the item in his hand. He looks at you, about to speak up but you interrupt:

"A pretty good deal, wouldn't you say? My favorite pair. Plus, you're not all that intimidating with your pants pulled down and fucked dumb, sir."

You shoot him a wink and walk toward the door of the room.

House lets out another curse, this time with more bite to it. He’s not used to being outsmarted by anyone, but somehow you’ve managed to pull it off.

He looks down at the item in his hands and can’t help but grin. A pair of your lacy panties has landed on his face, and he’s not about to pass up the opportunity.

"Fine."

"As if you had a choice."

You smile and before opening the door, say:

"I'll be waiting for you after work for that date."

You open the door, exit, and close it behind yourself.

House is left sitting in the chair, a pair of your panties in one hand and the other hand covering his eyes as he groans with frustration.

He has to admit to himself: pretty turned on by your unexpected power move, and he’s already looking forward to your date.

He mutters under his breath:

"Damn."

#house x reader #greg house #he is so sexy wtff #james wilson #dr house

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 6 months ago

Text

It Takes A Village Part 1 (Y/N Hotchner)

Warnings: some foul language, criminal minds level amount of gore

A/N: sorry this took so long to do lol it turned out to be mostly what I've written before lol

You weren’t pissed per se, just more… shocked, and maybe a little hurt, that Derek hadn’t spoken to you. One moment you were trying to fill out paperwork from a million different files, the next Derek and Garcia were telling the team they had found Declan. You had opted to wait with Garcia for Aaron to come back. It had been a hot minute since you’d seen him.

“Holy shit, you grew a beard?!” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth.

From there, everything was a blur. Doyle was in custody, he wasn’t exactly being helpful - which was annoying as it was his son you were trying to find afterall.

“You get anywhere with Doyle?” Reid asked, as JJ, Derek, and Rossi walked back into the round table room.

“Doyle doesn’t think Gerace has the guts to take him on.” Derek said, you rolled your eyes. Of course he doesn’t, the man has a massive ego.

“But that’s definitely Gerace on the tape.” Garcia sighed as she sat down.

Derek turned to your brother as he walked into the room. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks. Everybody take a seat.” You frowned, his tone (and eyebrows) indicating that something was definitely up.

“Why? What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Derek asked, taking a seat next to you.

Aaron looked at you all, you were with Jack on this, you were not a fan of the beard. “Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” Your brother stated. “As you all know Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.”

You swallowed, hand reaching for Derek’s under the desk.

“But the doctors were able to stabilise her.” Aaron continued. “And she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”

You looked at your brother in disbelief, this didn’t make any sense. “Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

“She’s alive?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“But we buried her.” Reid stated, looking up at Hotch from his seat.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.”

“Any issues?” Derek asked, his voice clipped. “Yeah, I got issues.”

You turned, seeing Emily. Your face dropped. What the fuck. Maybe you were going insane? That was the only other option. Otherwise your brother had lied to you. The one person (apart from Derek) that you thought would never lie to you.

You turned to Aaron, who winced when he saw the hurt and betrayal that filled your eyes. You took a deep breath and just like that, the mask was up and the betrayal was hidden. You turned to Emily, “It’s great to see you’re okay,”

“It’s good to see you too.” She said, giving you a smile.

You listened patiently as they all discussed the case. You didn’t have it in you. You just listened. As they continue, realising that the alpha of the team (a phrase you struggled to take seriously) was in fact a woman. When the team parted ways to investigate, you stood to make your way to the bathroom.

“(Y/N)-”

“I don’t want to speak to you right now,”

“(Y/N), please just listen-”

“What, Aaron? You are the one person I could always trust and I did,” You paused, “There was no one else I trusted completely. I trusted you so much, you’re my big brother Aaron. I’ve always trusted you- not mum, not dad, heck I don’t even trust Sean as much, but you? I’ve always trusted you,”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said, “We couldn’t tell anyone, it was for Emily’s safety,”

“We?”

“Me and JJ,”

“Right,” You said shortly, “JJ knew.”

“Just let me explain,”

“There’s nothing to explain.” You said shortly. “Emily’s alive and you chose to keep it from me.”

“I had to,”

“Why because of protocol? Because it needed to be confidential?” You knew what you said was right because Aaron’s eyebrow softly twitched. “Who else would I have told Aaron? Who else? I don’t speak to anyone outside of this team! I don’t have a family, a Haley, a Will, children, fuck, I don’t even have a Sergio! I’ve got this team, that’s it! I wouldn’t have told anyone because I don’t have anyone to tell! You know that. That’s what hurts Aaron. So no, I don’t want to listen to you come up with some lame, half-ass excuse about safety.”

“(Y/N), I couldn't tell you in case you told anyone.”

“Who would I have fucking told Aaron?! Who would I have told?!” You yell, fist slamming into the desk in front of you. “I have fuck all else! My life is this team and that's it! And you fucking know it! So please, tell me, who would I have told!”

You watch Aaron open his mouth for a split second before closing as he looks down.

“You know what, Aaron? Go fuck yourself. I can’t be fucked to deal with this right now.” You give him a tight smile before walking away.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #x male reader #male reader #y/n hotchner #hotchner #hotchner reader #aaron hotchner x brother reader

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lookingthroughmirrors · 8 months ago

Note

What do you think about Percy and Nico or Pernico?

(Please no hate, I know people have a lot of opinions and this is simply mine based on my interpretation of the characters and not meant as an attack on anyone)

Hi 👋

I really like pernico, at least in some of the fanfics I’ve seen but I prefer it when they’re older and come back together. I really think the Percy and Nico friendship gets overlooked quite a bit, personally because I think a lot of people see Nico as a kid, and in comparison don’t see Percy like that.

I mean that more so when it comes to Bianca. I’ve seen different takes that it was Percy’s fault, that Percy purposely hurt Nico, that Percy doesn’t deserve to mourn Bianca.

1. I think Pernico no matter when it’s set, needs to address Bianca in some capacity, because it is such an integral part of their arc. I think for Percy there is always a guilt that he’ll have, survivor guilt or otherwise about what happened to Bianca and that should be acknowledged. It is also the first death that happens so directly in front of Percy, and his reaction shows that in comparison to later deaths in botl and tlo. Percy was used as a scapegoat in this situation for Nico’s anger at Bianca’s untimely death (and her somewhat abandonment of him but that’s a whole other thing). I think this is why I like older pernico so much, because often times they’ve dealt with or are dealing with this to some extent and I don’t see how the ship would work without first dealing with this.

2. I think the ship only works once Nico is passed the hero worship and later hatred of Percy. I think Nico has a lot of issues he needs to deal with and that he’d have to be doing that first before pernico could work. Tho I do love doomed relationship fics. I think they’d both have to reevaluate how they view one another for it to work (ie. Percy was a child put in an impossible situation, Nico was the same, the blame game was played, Nico is not one extreme or the other). Moral of the point, they need to sort their individual shit out first, and their issues between each other before a relationship could work, but I really think it would and really love the idea of them being together.

3. In some aspects I think Pernico, after going through points 1 and 2, is healthier than what I know of Solangelo or Percabeth in canon. Now this isn’t bashing but I do think both Solangelo and Percabeth are toxic in ways that aren’t as wildly addressed both in canon and fanon. The stuff with Nico’s powers always bothered me. He’s extremely powerful, and i think he kinda ends up nerfed in later books and things like Will banning him from shadow travelling for his health. One point is I think a child of Hades knows more about shadow travel and it’s affects than a child of Apollo, doctor or not. I also think that Nico had a tendency to overextend his powers in canon, which it’s shown when Percy does the same thing he’s heavily drained, nearly passes out ect. I think Percy would be able to help Nico in exercising his powers, as I think that’s the big issue really. I also think Nico as a character would be very tied to the Greek world and live more in that world than the mortal world, which despite canon I think would suit Percy. I think the whole New Rome College thing is odd, and he’s clearly going for Annabeth. Percy hated school, and I think it’s much more likely he went on to train halfbloods or worked in legion in New Rome than going to university.

(This is so much longer than I intended, sorry)

Overall, I think Percy and Nico (both in a relationship and as friends) have a lot of potential that wasn’t lived up to. There are definitely ways it could be toxic, but not more than any other ship has the potential to be if broken down (Percabeth, Piper and Jason and the fact he had no memory, Solangelo, the weirdness that is Leo and Calypso). Ultimately I think Pernico can prove to be a stronger ship than a lot of others too, because they’ve seen each other at their worst, they’ve seen each other stripped back and raw and grieving and they have seen each other in ways nobody else has. Percy knew Nico before he lost Bianca, he knew that side of Nico. Nico saw Percy through the war, through everything during the last Olympian. He saw him command the river Styx and wasn’t scared (which begs the comparison of Percabeth in Tartarus and Annabeth making Percy feel so bad about a particular power that he wouldn’t use it even when it meant he would die and ultimately had to be saved by a third party). They’ve seen each other grow and change, and that in turn changes people. I truly think once you get past the trauma that taints all their interactions, once they address and move past it, they are much better than many other ships. They seen the worst, and I think with that they’d find it much easier to be vulnerable with one another and show parts of themselves that they don’t show anyone else. I definitely like Pernico far better than Percabeth.

I honestly didn’t mean to write an entire essay on Pernico and my opinions but here we are. If you’ve read this far I hope I answered your question.

#pernico #percy pjo #nico di angelo #percico #anti percabeth #anti annabeth chase #solangelo #bianca di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #will solace #pjo #pjo fandom #pjo spoilers #percy and nico #Percy has trauma #Nico has trauma #hot take Bianca’s death was never truly addressed between them #they had so much potential #toxic relationship

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zalrb · 5 months ago

Note

OK I am so interested in why TenMartha is your Bamon (passively of course!)

Oh! Mostly because with different writing I would ship them (that’s what I mean by Bamon ship, not that they’re similar, but how shippers feel about Bamon is how I feel - though not as intensely - about TenMartha). They actually have a lot of scenes I liked. The way people were talking about how terribly Ten treated her, I expected something very different from what I saw and for sure, the dialogue definitely states that Ten is effectively supposed to look through Martha, he's supposed to be yearning for Rose, grieving for Rose, which is why we get scenes like this

and of course, I get that this is supposed to be at the back of his mind/heart all the time even when it's not directly addressed, but when watching, I actually found that the Rose stuff was pretty minimal in comparison to the action indicating a fierce protection, fierce affection from Ten to Martha and all the angst that comes with that, like in Gridlock (which I actually quite liked as an episode), when she's abducted, his response

could simply be attributed to guilt that he put her in that position, I mean, he says as much

but then we get 42

which demonstrates how much she means to him. For all the dialogue around how he doesn't see her, doesn't look at her, and kind of just likes her "fine", I, personally, think we see the opposite.

Plus, like I said, I think Freema and Tennant have a charming chemistry together

they can be flirty

and I think that the show portrays why Martha would be enamoured with the Doctor the best out of all of the companion/Doctor duos I've seen so far, because Ten actively tries to impress her, he wants to earn her respect and earn her admiration

and he actively "courts" her, he's the mysterious guy who shows up outside of the bar she's at with a time travelling ship, basically being Aladdin saying, "I could show you the [universe]"

and despite what he says, he doesn't leave her alone

and they actually work really well together on their adventures, their skillset and their curiosity etc. are actually quite complementary and he's consistently taken with how good she is

so, like, I could write a whole thing about how I don't think Ten didn't let Martha in and how I don't think he didn't see her and all he saw was Rose but rather the loss of Rose made him put on a performance of flippancy but I don't think that really matters, the bottom line is that basically, they're my passive Bamon ship because if the context was different re: the Rose of it all, I would ship them.

#first time here #marthaten #martha jones #doctor who #season 3 #unpopular opinions

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arlana-likes-to-write · 8 months ago

Text

Second Chance - Chapter 14

Masterlist

Warnings: mention of treatment, kissing, lots of teasing, suggestive language (no sex but mention of it),

Word Count: 4.5k

Note: This may be the last chapter for a while, I have to plan the treatment and how the story continues. Please note, we are about to get very angsty. I will sprinkle some fluff in there. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

For once, you were too warm. It was an uncomfortable feeling that forced you awake. Eyes still laced with sleep, it took you a minute to figure out where you were. Then it caught up with you. You were in Yelena’s room. In her bed. You must have shifted in the middle of the now; it was your turn to lay on her chest. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, and your legs tangled with hers underneath the blanket. It was nice; she looked so peaceful, staring up at the Black Widow. “I can feel you staring,” her accent was much deeper than normal. It was unfair how attractive one person could be in the morning.

“Sorry,” you whispered. Even though you weren’t sorry at all. Yelena hummed. With her eyes still closed, she slipped you onto your back. A surprised gasp left your lips that turned into a sigh when you felt her lips on your shoulder. She traveled to your neck, leaving your skin untouched by her lips until she was face to face.

“Good morning,” she smiled. You stared into her eyes, obsessed with their color.

“Morning,” she moved to kiss you, but you stopped her with a gentle hand on her cheek. The pout on her lips almost stopped her. “I have terrible morning breath,” the Blonde rolled her eyes.

“Do not care,” she mumbled. “Can I kiss you? Please.” It was hard for you to deny her. With a quick nod of your head, she kissed you. The kiss was soft and slow as you were both still waking up. Her head rested on your jaw; she wasn’t gripping you to hold you in place. Her thumb moved back and forth on your cheek. You felt her smile when she bit your lower lip, and you gasped.

“Jerk,” you whispered and pushed her off. Her laughter made you smile, and you grabbed her hand. Her elbow was bent as she rested her head in her free hand to look at you.

“I find it funny that you made fun of me for cuddling when I woke up to you on top of me.” The way she said it made your body heat up.

“One, I was not making fun of you,” you tried to pinch her side, but she quickly grabbed your hand. “2, you are warm. Sue me.” She chuckled and kissed the palm of your hand. You were somewhat surprised at how affectionate the Black Widow was. You assumed it would take her a while to be so physical. Not that you were complaining. But you made a mental note to bring it up. “I have treatment today,” you hated to bring it up and ruin the peaceful morning. The Blonde nodded.

“At 12:30,” so she listened at your doctor’s appointment. “I assumed you would want to leave at noon.”

“Are you coming with me?” Her green eyes went wide.

“Do you want me to?” You weren’t against it; you assumed that after spending all day with you yesterday, she had other things to do. She was right about one thing last night: You were scared about how this new dosage of chemo was going to affect you. With Yelena there, she provided a sense of comfort.

“Please,” you answered. “If it’s not too much trouble.” Instead of answering, she kissed you. Your hands moved to her neck and pulled her closer to you. You were right. You were so stupidly addicted to the feeling of her lips. It was ridiculous how fast she made your heart race. Even more so when she swiped her tongue across your lips, asking for permission, which you gladly gave. You ignored the burn of your lungs, which desperately needed air. Air seemed unnecessary when all you needed were her lips. “Yelena,” you whimpered when her lips left yours and traveled down your neck. “We have to slow down.” It was the logical thing to do, but your heart told you to throw logic out the window. She pulled away immediately. Her breathing was erratic, her cheeks flushed, and her lips were swollen. But her eyes were blown out. It took a great deal of willpower not to return to what you said.

“Right,” she licked her lips, swollen from the kiss.

“It’s fine,” you reassured her with a soft kiss. “I’d prefer to take you on a date before you jump my bones.” Her face flushed. You thought she looked so pretty with that color on her cheeks. With a huff, she rolled onto her back and covered her face with her forearm.

“You are so annoying,” you laughed and moved to rest your chin on her chest. You also liked feeling her heartbeat.

“Can I ask you something?” She dropped her arm and looked at you. “What are we going to tell the team?” You were mentally preparing yourself for every possible answer. Option one, she could not want to tell the team, and you knew keeping your hands to yourself would prove difficult. But you would respect her wants. Another option would be to say to the team that you were…dating? Seeing each other? Looking for a quick fuck? The third option made your stomach twist uncomfortable. However, telling the team meant telling Tony. The thought alone horrified you. You barely allowed your mom to meet the girls you were seeing. Not because your mom was against your lifestyle, but the idea of your mom using her lawyer skills on someone you were interested in caused you too much anxiety. You avoided it altogether.

Your father was a fucking Avenger. Granted, the girl you were hypothetically dating was a Black Widow. Would this affect their relationship with the team? Would they fight to the death? “Hey,” Yelena’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Where did you just go?”

“Is Tony going to kill you if he finds out?” The Blonde blinked at you, stunned into silence by your question. “I mean, you’ve known him longer than I have.” Soon, Yelena started to laugh. Your body shook from the intensity of it. She whipped away a tear that fell from her eye.

“I find it insulting that you think that Tin Man could kill me.” You frowned.

“Having an ego is very unattractive,” you deadpanned. Her laughter died down, and she saw the frown on your face. She sat up and forced the both of you into a sitting position.

“Are you worried about how he will react?” You shrugged. “Then we won’t tell the team.”

“I don’t want to hide either,” you said. “Unless you want to keep it from them.” You crossed your legs while her legs lay straight next to you.

“All I want is you,” you rolled your eyes. God, she was such a flirt. “It is true. I do not care what they think of if we tell them.” You titled your head.

“You don’t want to tell your sister that we are…” your voice trailed off. “What are we exactly? Honestly.”

“I know I like kissing you,” you pushed the girl on the shoulder. As she fell backward, she took you with her. You lay on top of her, staring into her eyes.

“You are not taking this seriously.”

“I am!” she defended herself. “You asked me to be honest, and I am.” You shook your head with a smile. We tell them we are seeing how it goes. They do not need to know more than that,” she cringed. But do get ready for a lot of teasing.” You smiled. How was she so good at this? It was impressive how fast she could quiet your anxiety.

“You are,” you paused. “Incredible.” She blushed, a little taken aback by the compliment.

“Thank you?” Her voice went up an octave like she was asking a question. You chuckled and kissed her softly. She was incredible, and you couldn’t help but wonder why your mom would think of it.

“Why don’t you get ready for the day, and I can get you food ?” she asked, breaking the kiss. “What food do you like?” You glanced at the clock she had on her nightstand. It was only 0915, so you had time.

“Probably an easy breakfast like oatmeal and maybe small snacks while we are there. I’m hoping this chemo doesn’t mess with my stomach too much.” She kissed your forehead.

“You know,” she chuckled. “To make you breakfast, I have to get out of bed.” You shook your head. Everyone would be in your business as soon as you walked out of her room. You wanted a few more minutes of peace with just her.

“Can we stay like this for a little bit longer?” You closed your eyes and felt her hand rub your back.

“Of course,” she whispered. “Anything you want.”

“I thought you didn’t like oatmeal,” Yelena suppressed a sigh when her sister sat down at the counter while she prepared breakfast for you and her. It wasn’t like she disliked oatmeal; she preferred other things. That was why she was making eggs on the stove.

“Maybe it’s not for her,” Wanda teased, standing beside her. Yelena finished chopping the fruit she was going to put on top. She remembered you eating a banana and hoped it would be okay.

“So, how was your date? Did you woo her enough to get her into your bed?”

“Makes sense why she rolled out of bed so late,” the witch added. Yelena felt her cheeks flush at the teasing remarks.

“We did not sleep together,” a part of Yelena knew. It could have happened if you hadn’t stopped her this morning. The thought made her stomach fill with butterflies. You wanted to take it slow, and Yelena would respect it, but gods above, every time you kissed her, her brain would short circuit. Also, I do not need to tell you anything.”

“I’m your sister,” Yelena pointed to Wanda with the knife she was using. “She’s my friend. She’ll find out sooner or later.” Yelena pointed to Bucky, who was walking over to them. “He’ll forget in five minutes.”

“What the fuck did I do?” He asked. Yelena laughed and began to get snacks together: crackers, pretzels, and a few chip options. “How was the date?”

“It wasn’t a.” She slapped her hand against her forehead while the three Avengers laughed. “Lokhi (fuckers),” she mumbled. “Look, we are just seeing what happens. We have not labeled what we are,” She was telling you the truth. All she wanted was you in whatever capacity you would allow it.

“Have you told Stark that you are sleeping with his kid?” Natasha asked. The Blonde rolled her eyes but saw Maria and Steve walking from the training area. She walked over to them without a word to the others.

“Hill, can I talk to you about something?” She felt everyone’s eyes on you. “Somewhere private.” The deputy director looked at Yelena; her eyes scanned the Black Widow up and down. Tentatively, she nodded, and Yelena followed her to the conference room.

“Alright, who did you kill?” Maria asked as soon as the door closed. “You don’t need to give me details, but I need to know whose body I need to hide.” Yelena scuffed and sat down at the table.

“I did not kill anyone,” Maria sat down in front of her. “I am offended you think I would need your help to hide a body.” She flipped her off.

“What do you want, Belova?” Sighing, Yelena leaned against the table and folded her hands.

“I need a favor,” she spoke softly. Yelena was not one to ask for favors or help. Years of learning how to survive on her own made her stubborn. She hated relying on others, but the Avengers reprogrammed her brain and taught her to be a team player. Still, it was a work in process, and when she asked for help, everyone knew it was a big deal. “I was wondering if I could be taken off missions for the next few months. Unless absolutely necessary, of course,” Maria narrowed her eyes at her and tapped her fingers against the table.

“This is about Stark’s kid, right?” She questioned. Yelena nodded.

“Her treatment plan is changing,” Yelena said, not giving too much away until you were ready to tell everyone. I want to be there for her. We are seeing each other.” She began to play with the rings on her fingers, waiting for Maria’s reaction. A smile began to form on the director’s face.

“You are dating Stark’s kid,” Maria clarified. Yelena wasn’t sure about that. There was no label given this morning. But the Blonde nodded so she wouldn’t have to explain everything. “That’s awesome. I like her much better than-”

“Can we not talk about her?” Yelena cut her off. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about her bitch of an ex. Maria nodded her head in understanding.

“I’ll have to talk with Fury and Steve about your request, which means I’ll have to tell them,” Yelena nodded. The team was going to find out sooner or later. “Have you told her father?”

“No.”

“Well,” Maria said. I’d tell him before he finds out through someone else. You know everyone on this team has a big mouth.” Oh, she knew that. The agent stood up and walked over to the door. Before she left, she placed a hand on Yelena’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“I will,” Yelena promised. “And thank you.” She remained sitting when Maria closed the door. When Yelena broke up with her ex, Maria found her instead of Wanda or Natasha. It wasn’t like she purposely reached out to the director. Maria found her drinking one night. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the sting of having her first heartbreak since the red room, but the dame broke, and Yelena spilled all of her vulnerabilities. And Maria sat and listened. To this day, Yelena was sure Maria never told anybody about that night.

In the end, a close relationship was formed between her and the Deputy Director. She was the only one who knew the real reason behind the breakup. Maria promised not to tell Natasha or the rest of the team because Yelena feared for the girl’s life. But you were different. There was an aura that surrounded you that drew Yelena in.

It was warm and bright. You had to be different.

You should have known you weren’t that lucky. You made it into your room without being stopped. A shower, a change of clothes, and a pack bagged later, you left your room and ran right into Kate, America, and Peter. You jumped, clenching your heart. “Give me some space, or I may have a heart attack.” It was a joke, but Kate grabbed you by your hand and dragged you to the couch.

“How is the date?” Kate asked.

“It wasn’t-”

“Oh, it was totally a date.” America cut you off.

“Did you guys kiss?” Peter questioned, which made Kate mimic the sound of kissing. You groaned, and your head fell into your hands.

“They kissed!” The archer exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air.

“Have I told you guys how much I hate you three?” You deadpanned. America pulled you into a side hug.

“No, you don’t,” she pinched your cheeks, but you slapped her hand away. “Come on, tell us what she did,” you tried to keep the smile off your face while you thought about your day.

“It was good,” your smile grew. It was amazing, actually.” She was so different from any girl you were interested in. Most of the time, you planned the dates. You were the one making the plans and reaching out for date 2. But she planned everything and chose activities that you were interested in.

You wanted to do something for her. Maybe Kate or Natasha could help you plan something. “Gods, your pupils turned into hearts when you talked about her.” Kate teased. You flipped her off.

“Please, she’s not nearly as bad as you and America,” Peter smirked.

“Oh, so you and MJ are saints,

“Alright, I have a doctor’s appointment,” you said. “I’ll see you guys later.” They said goodbye as you walked into the elevator. Once the metal doors closed, you slumped against the walls. The cool metal felt good against your heated skin. You found yourself giggling as you thought about the past 24 hours. None of it seemed real. How did one blonde Black Widow break your rule? She was special. The doors opened, and you saw Yelena standing in the kitchen. She was eating scrambled eggs, but her eyes immediately found you. As did Natasha and Wanda. Oh. You hated the teasing smirks on their face.

You smiled and joined them at the counter. Yelena placed a bowl of oatmeal down with a lid of in. “We can eat on the way,” she said. “We do not have to stay.”

“We don’t bite,” Natasha said. “Unless she’s into that.” Yelena glared at her sister, but you let the teasing comment roll off. It was nothing you couldn’t handle. Chelsie and your friends in DC were worse. They might as well get it out of their system. You took the lid off and walked over to get a spoon. You placed a hand on Yelena’s hip and squeezed it.

“And I do like to bite. I like to claim what’s mine,” you grabbed a spoon and sat back down. Yelena’s cheeks flushed, but her green eyes turned darker. She was so easy to tease.

“Then why don’t I see a mark on my sister,” Touche Black Widow, Touche. You took a bite of oatmeal.

“Like the one on your neck,” you smiled.

“You’re bluffing,” she looked at Yelena and Wanda, but they remained silent. You shrugged.

“Maybe or maybe not. If you want one, I can go give some tips to Bucky for you if you like,” you winked. “I give as good as I get, Natasha.” The Black Widow’s eyes narrowed at you, and you held her gaze, ignoring the beating of your heart.

“You’re not bad, kid,” she said and shook her head.

“Thank you?” You weren’t sure if you should take that as a compliment. Natasha laughed and left, assuming to find Bucky. Wanda took the now empty seat next to you, chuckling softly.

“You and your father are the only ones brave enough to give her back her sass,” the witch said. You shrugged and looked at the Blonde. She was smirking at you.

“Must be a Stark thing,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you are both crazy,” you glared at the Blonde and returned to eating the breakfast she made for you. However, you kept catching Wanda looking between you and Yelena.

“Do you want to get it out of your system?” You asked her. She shook her head.

“You guys are cute,” she grabbed her coffee and left you and Yelena alone. That…you weren’t expecting that. Neither was Yelena, as she became interested in her eggs.

“Hi,” you said. She looked up at you.

“Hi,” you said, holding out your hand, and she took it. You ate in silence with your hands connected.

Once you were done eating, you cleaned up, much to Yelena’s annoyance. “You cook, I clean; it’s how it works,” you told her and walked into the elevator. Once the doors closed, Yelena pushed you against the wall. You gasped, and her lips soon were against yours. The kiss was frantic, messy, and over far too soon for your liking.

“Did you mean what you said back there, dorogoy (sweetheart)?” she mumbled in your ear. Her breath caused a shiver to run down your spine. She asked you a question. You knew she did, but your brain was much. Yelena chuckled. Her lips found a sensitive spot on your neck. “I like to claim what’s mine, too,” she bit down on your neck and soothed the spot with her tongue.

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. Her possessive tone made your knees weak. You were grateful her hands were on your waist, or you would have fallen. The ding of the elevator caused her to pull away, and you missed her warmth. “You are a jerk,” you told her and stepped out. She laughed and jogged to catch up to you, arms wrapped around your waist and pulling you to her chest. You laughed and squirmed away from her as she dug into your side.

“Well,” you jumped at the sudden voice. “That answers my first question.” You pushed Yelena away and stared at Tony. You were so engrossed by Yelena that you missed him standing there. Belova.”

“Stark,” you said back to him. You took her hand in yours.

“I was going to tell you,” you said. He crossed his arms and waited for you. “Yelena and I are seeing each other,” Gods, you hated how old-timey that sounded. He took a few steps to close the distance and stood before Yelena. The Black Widow kept her eyes trained on him.

“Don’t hurt her, Belova.”

“I won’t,” he nodded and dropped his arms down. You relaxed slightly.

“Dr. Carpenter called me and filled me in on what’s going on,” you nodded, and you were grateful for that. He kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled. It was a little strained, and he walked over to the elevator. Once the doors closed behind him, you let out a shaky breath. “That was weird, right?” You asked and followed Yelena to her car.

“It was,” she kissed your cheek and opened the passenger side for you. You got in, and she walked to the other side. Once she started the car, her hand went to your thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. You were worried about Tony and made a mental note to check on him later.

“So you sit here by yourself,” you noticed Yelena watching the nurse put the needle into your port. You thank the nurse with a smile. You found it funny that both Yelena and Wanda said the same thing.

“It’s not that bad,” you smiled. “I like to draw and talk to the nurses.” Today was going to be a long day, a double session of chemo with three rounds of hydration. You grabbed her hand. “I’m okay,” you promised. “Just a little fluid then chemo.” Yelena nodded and kissed the back of your hand. “Is your love language physical touch?” You felt her try to pull her hand away, but you kept a tighter hold on it. “It’s okay if it is. Mine is quality time.” You offered her yours.

“It is,” she slowly said. “Kate made me do one of those stupid quizzes.” The mental image made you smile. She looked embarrassed, ashamed by it.

“There is nothing wrong with that,” you told her. She shrugged. “Who told you it was wrong?” Her jaw clenched.

“I do not want to talk about her,” her voice was cold, void of emotions, and it scared you. Her green eyes turned dark. You hated whoever hurt her.

“Okay,” you reassured her. You sat back in your chair but held onto her hand. “For what it’s worth, I like when you touch me.” A smirk formed on her face.

“I could have touched you more this morning if someone didn’t stop me,” you flipped her off and ignored the warmth filled your stomach. Yelena chuckled.

“Can I ask you a question since you asked me one?” You hummed in response. “Do you not remember the car accident?” Shit. You were not expecting that question. You exhaled slowly, feeling the swirl of anxiety in your stomach.

“No,” you whispered. The cops pulled multiple camera angles of the accident, but I still couldn’t provide them with anything. The vehicle was marked stolen, and it was dumped by the river. There is no evidence.” Yelena frowned. “The case went cold.” She moved her finger across your hand. It was nice.

“What did they ask you?” You smirked.

“That’s two questions, Belova. You are reaching your quota,” you teased. The Blonde rolled her eyes. “I guess the footage shows someone getting out of the car that hit us and went over to,” you sighed, biting your lip. “I couldn’t give the police a description.” You felt like a failure. It was the one thing you wanted to give your mom. Yelena dropped your hand and moved in front of you. She whipped away your tears and kissed your forehead. Her arms wrapped around you as your head rested on her shirt; a few more tears stained the fabric. “Sorry,” you mumbled. She lifted your chin, and you stared at her.

“Never apologize for crying,” she smiled. “Emotions are-”

“Stupid,” you received a slight pinch to your side for that comment.

“Yes, but important,” she kissed you softly and sat back in her chair, still holding onto your hand. “Now, enough of the heavy shit,” you giggled. “You are going to help me prank Kate and America.” Your jaw dropped.

“Why am I helping you?” She held up your connected hands as her answer. You scuffed and rolled your eyes. “Alright, Blondie, what do you have in mind?”

“Princess Morgan,” you called out as you entered her play area. Her head whipped up to look at you from the puzzle she was doing. “May I enter your kingdom?” The young girl giggled, and it was music to your ears.

“Get in here, silly,” you bowed dramatically and sat beside her, revealing the bag from the aquarium. “Is that for me?”

“I don’t know. Do you know any other 5-year-old who would like a gift?” She shook her head. “Then I guess it is for you.” You handed her the bag. She opened it quickly and pulled out the three new stuffed animals: a penguin, a shark, and a turtle. Her eyes filled with excitement as she squished the toys against her chest. “I have a new story for you. Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes!” She jumped in the air with a fist punch. You laughed.

“Alright, get two Barbies, the astronaut figure and the,” you paused, tapping your finger on your chin. “The Thor plushie.” She ran off to her toy boxes, opening and closing the boxes to find the toys you requested. Once the toys were in her hands, she dropped them on the floor before you. “Are you ready for Rescue in the Depths: The Quest to Save the Underwater Princess?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The girl was jumping on the balls of her feet. Her energy was contagious. She was another one that you were afraid to break her heart.

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848,

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x y/n stark #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x stark!reader #yelena belova #black widow one shot #second chance

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artful-aries · 2 years ago

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Genshin Headcanons: Ways They Show Affection (Dottore, Dehya)

Dottore

Affection is not the Doctor’s forte

The definition of calm, cool, and collected, he’s not going to just give you a kiss on your cheek or hold you in his arms

If anything, you’ll find yourself begging for him to pay some attention to you

The man just often gets sucked into his research, almost forgetting about your existence. You’re still special though, if anyone else interrupted his research, they would be dead by now

Still, for him to stop his research and actually give you attention, the stars need to align and he needs to be in a good mood

On these lucky days, he will gladly hold you hand as he works, or perhaps sit in his lap if it doesn’t impede his research and you promise to not squirm around too much

If you are really good and let him finish his research for the day, Dottore will give you the affection that you crave. Kisses, a warm embrace, the whole nine yards. He’s just….a little intense about it

Takes the time to tell you how wonderful he thinks your body is, but not in a sexy way

The way he talks, it almost sounds like he either thinks you’re the divine among mortals, or a prime candidate for organ harvesting. You still aren’t sure which he leans towards

Outside of physical affection, Dottore is thoughtful enough to leave you notes before he heads off to the lab to research. They are simple; telling you to take care of yourself, where you can find him, sending you his regards, nothing poetic but it shows that he does think about you.

He gives gifts…in the form of the results of his latest research. Sometimes it genuinely neat things, like brighter, more sustainable magical crystals. Other times, it’s strange amalgamations of things you rather remain blissfully unaware of

It’s almost like he’s showing off his abilities, like a cat that brings back a dead mouse for you to praise them for

Dehya

Her affection is rough, but it comes in abundance

She totally gives you noogies on top of your head, plays pranks on you to get you flustered, or straight up manhandles you and flings you into an oasis pool. Having grown up mostly around men her whole life, she doesn’t see anything wrong with this

If you complain she will try to be more gentle; she won’t give you noogies anymore, but she won’t stop the pranks. Sorry, she thinks your shocked face is hilarious

Physical affection comes naturally to Dehya, she’s always got an arm around you, planting kisses on your cheek if other mercenaries stare at you for too long, etc

When the two of you alone, Dehya almost gets nervous about touching you. She wants to so bad, but she psyches herself out, thinking that she might go too far and make you uncomfortable

Dehya is a good gift giver too, she secretly saves up money from her jobs to get you nice trinkets and things that she finds in her travels

Her fatal flaw is that she is bad about taking you in dates; she spends a lot of quality time with you, but rarely thinks about taking you to any place fancy

It’s not that she doesn’t love you enough, the concept just seems a bit weird to her. Why would she take you to a stuffy place when she can spend that time stargazing with you out in the desert?

If you insisted she would make a good effort, but you would be able to tell she’s a little on edge and uncomfortable the entire time

The best time for Dehya is sitting under the shade of a tree at an oasis, soaking her feet in the water with you as you both laugh about everything and nothing at all

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin imagine #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine #genshin headcanon #Dottore #dottore x reader #dehya #dehya x reader

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pakunod-a · 9 months ago

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Abstained.

A/N: a repost from my old blog (@ayayabaroque) with a few tiny revisions, based on Kung 'Di Rin Lang Ikaw and Sa Ngalan Ng Pag-Ibig, both by December Avenue <3 Warnings: Sumeru Archon Quest spoilers, (Use of Scaramouche's real/given name) horrible English </3

If you aren’t the reason to love, would I stop my heart from getting hurt?

Kunikuzushi was beyond saving, he was impossible to love. His own creator abandoned him, his only friends left him, and being faced with his own immortality, he knows that you’ll leave him too.

You believe that though your flaws of mortality remain, you would do your best to stay by his side for eternity.

But as he drifts of into the company of another, a scholar by the name of Haypasia, you question if he is worth the trouble of loving.

“Scaramouche, it’s been only 2 days after your most recent visit to Haypasia, would it be possible to ask you of one thing?”

He merely scoffs, dismissing the idea of resting, if it meant showing affection to his most devoted follower.

It is a true wonder you haven’t left him yet, despite how inconsiderate he is towards your personal feelings.

If it isn’t you, then it won’t be at all, I won’t hope for us anymore.

The Doctor offered you revenge, wealth, and power, all you had to do was to betray Kunikuzushi.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to put him in a much more dire situation, thus you decline.

Yet do you truly feel this way about him?

“You never truly cared for me, Haypasia has been showing her dedication and devotion to me ever since she made contact with her new-found God.”

Scaramouche seethes, venom spilling from his mouth

“If I were you, I’d do exactly as Haypasia, in hopes to win over my companion again.”

I’m shivering and I can’t move, my heart can’t force myself to love you anymore.

It proves true that the snow-ridden land of Snezhnaya is not suit to your tastes,

but if it means staying as far away as humanly possible from Scaramouche, you’d go through whatever length to ensure his happiness.

For Haypasia's happiness too, yet not yours.

If the frostbite and cold doesn’t take you, then may the fake god abrew in Sumeru take your life.

You once believed that you would take any step toward a brighter future for you and Kunikuzushi, but it seems near impossible to achieve that, if he is in the glory of another.

Do you truly love him now?

If it won’t be us in the end, I’ll stop myself from loving someone else.

“I vow to stay by your side for eternity, let the damned wake, and let the souls who mourn, do so with agony. I will shield you from the world and all it’s cruelty.” —yet you, who makes such sacrilegious promises, only to succumb to sheer cold, and a slight pang of jealousy toward his “first” follower.

If you couldn’t love another, you might as well die with the vows you’ve made to each other.

That way, when he succeeds in entering godhood, he won’t remember you anymore.

But if I don’t remember who we were, who’ll cry in the morn for us?

Before setting foot into Sumeru, you haven’t even heard of Irminsul.

Much less known that Irminsul contains the memories of everyone, which holds little to no regard from Scaramouche, until he caught wind of what recently happened after his downfall.

“They have been pronounced dead. I believe you have no use for them anyway, since Haypasia is your one and only follower, am I correct?”

Il Dottore, 2nd of the Harbingers, announcing your death to the former Harbinger has his mouth agape and speechless.

He descended into madness, believing that it was all his fault, his status, his arrogance, and his vile nature that caused your death.

Shortly after his defeat, he was assigned to carry out a task for Lesser Lord Kusanali and the Traveler.

Enter Irminsul and attempt to find more information on the Descenders of Teyvat. In his subconscious, his new-found information on the erasure of existence from the Traveler has his full attention. Perhaps, if he never met you, if he never tainted his self-image, you could live happily together with him in his next life. With the knowledge of Irminsul, he begins infiltrating its memories in hopes to have his soul reborn into your arms again. I’m letting go, since I can’t move anymore. But would I stop your heart to yearn for another? He succeeded in erasing The Balladeer’s existence of this world, but it was in vain. You couldn’t hang on to the tiny bit of life you have anymore, and withered away from his grasp. In all the years of his life, he has never experienced such grief in his life. His mind, though hazy, tries to cling on to what little memory he has of you in the back of his mind. Kunikuzushi was impressed to say the least, you really did love him, even if he wouldn’t love you anymore. At the cost of the recognition as a God, the price would be his only source of hope and warmth. “Until the end of our time, until our hearts feel nothing anymore, even if forever ends, I’ll wait for you in the name of love.” - A/N: i wish that i too, can be erased by irminsul. that sucks. Stay safe, keep yourself hydrated, and continue on treading your path in life, with hopes of success. Believe in yourself, and stay positive. <3 -1, Yuan

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin angst #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara angst #scaramouche angst #wanderer #scaramouche #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #genshin imagines #bring back the cold season #ITS SO HOT HERE

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melkyt · 1 year ago

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Modern BG3 Idea

Astarion: Lawyer Intern in a super prestigious law firm, functions on coffee and spite. He has never known sleep and doubts he will ever. Because of this, when research for a big case is thrown his way, he doubles down, gets even more exhausted, and messes up.

Gale: Self-proclaimed scholar that "dropped out" aka kicked out of a quite prestigious college just before completing his degree after a bad time with a Proffesor who was his mentor since he was a kid. Now he is not sure what to do, is depressed and scrambling to get his life together.

Wyll: He is part of a corps that travels the world and helps people anywhere they can. His father wanted him to join the military, and Wyll was well on his way but got involved with some unsavory people and landed in legal trouble. His volunteer work, while something he would anyway, is also the price he pays for a certain youthful indiscretion

Mizora: a lawyer working for Zariel, who runs at least half the city. With high ambitions, she is always looking for a way to get an edge in any way possible as long as it is within the law. Though sometimes the law can be changed in her favor, and she makes full use of it. Always sends Wyll obscure asks and sends him on errands to strengthen her position.

Raphael: the rich kid who does not get along with his family but uses the wealth and pleasure such connections provide to the fullest. He is disatisfied that his father is content to sit back and not get involved in controlling the city. Mephisto is the oldest and most influential party in the city with a net of information brokers that he does nothing with as far as Raphael can see. So Raph breaks away to start his own dealings in the business of information and is quite successful but is still insecure that his success is only because of his father.

Karlach: is an orphan who grew up in the lower city. She got involved with one of the three criminal organizations in the area as that's just what one did. She got close to the leader of one of them until he double crossed her and dumped a lot of his debt onto her. Debt that she is still paying off by playing mercenary and killer to Zariel. It's been a decade, and she is almost out. at least she hopes so.

Halsin runs a clinic in the lower city where he takes in any and all orphans, homeless and people just down on their luck and gives them odd jobs. His place is considered a neutral ground in the chaos of those streets. This started when he saw someone very important to him die, and there was nothing he could do then. So he promised never to let anything like that happen again. It is wildly known that if you need help, Halsin will help regardless of who or what you are within the intricate power struggles of the city. Though the man does have his limits, and nobody is looking forward to finding them. He discovers a plot that would directly affect the sabctuary he has built and take it on himself to discover what's happening.

Kagha takes over. She is an ambitious woman but with not as much vision for good as Halsin. She has for a long time wanted to make the clinic more official and within the lines of the law but that means anybody who is not 100% legal due to being a refugee or any other reason, will have to leave and many of them will die because of her actions.

Zevlor is a veteran who volunteers around the city. He was once part of the same corp as Wyll under Zariel but saw how corrupt it could get and broke away, which destroyed his life. Anyone spurned by Zariel will not have much of a life and be forced on the streets. He regrets that some of his team followed him in the choice. They are hiding out in the city, hoping to bring down Zariel, and all of them can't legally be in the country as they joined from all different places.

Shadowheart just finished studying to be a doctor to set up an operation within the biggest hospital in the city by order of her cult leader. This cult is small in the city but wants to expand, so they have been working on putting their members in positions of power. She has a mission and will let nothing stop her, and her actions while not getting her caught are on someone's radar. Not to mention now that she is in the outside world experiencing how everyone else lives, she is starting to get some doubts.

Lae'zel - She is a soldier who came to the city from the same place as Shadowheart. Her organization fights to prevent cults from starting up and succeeding. This is painted as a noble pursuit. Yet the reason is that their leader wants to wipe out any and all competition. Lae'zel believes in her cause and seeks to root out the conspiracy. So she gets a job as a security guard in the hospital where Shadowheart is working.

Now to the criminal element 😎

Gortash: Weapons dealer for every organization in the city. His public company has defense contracts and a myriad of production dealings that focus on innovation and war. On the other side he provides arms and men for the other two factions.

Orin has only recently taken over as leader of a vast network of assassins and killers for hire after the very unfortunate murder of her sibling. Everyone knows she killed them as she is quite proud of the kill. Under her leadership, the organization is slowly collapsing, and she is scrambling to keep it together before someone turns on her in the same way that she did on the previous lead. Her father, who had supported the organization, turns away as soon as things start collapsing, as he has no interest in failure.

Ketheric is old money that secrety ran the city, was raising his daughter to take over as he tired but she had run away after cracking from the pressure. News eventually reached him that she had died. So he gave up for the most part in everything. This opened the way for Orin and Gortash to rise up and fill the gaps. Before Orin's sibling died, they were angling to take over as Ketheric's successor and were very close. Gortash tried to pick the pieces, but Ketheric hates the young man and does not see him as someone who can lead. Tensions are getting high between the three factions.

---

That is the scene for this AU.

Now Astarion as the linchpin to get this whole thing started. The case he fumbles with due to exhaustion is something Raphael's father had set in motion decades ago under the noses of everyone. He was biding his time while everyone fought within the city to use his net to take over. That seemingly falls through and leaves a vaccum in the powerstruggle over the city. This empty space can be filled and give the winning faction power enough to control everything.

Astarion runs away as the information he holds is valuable enough to kill and while he took alot of abuse from the higher ups, he would rather not die. He has nowhere to go but decides the lower city is the easiest place to dissapear so he comes to Halsin's clinic.

Now say the Durge survived the murder attempt by Orin thnks to Halsin and is an amnesiac doing odd jobs around the area. Living their best relaxed life away from the drama of their old life.

They are cleaning up at night in the clinic and Astarion runs into the room in a panic. Assassins/Hunters after him. He is out of breath, clutching the information from the case to his chest.

The Durge acts on instinct, not to protect but to kill. At the end they are standing in the middle of the clinic covered in blood and terrified of the memories that suddenly break through the blood fog.

Astarion just a tad terrified of them but also grateful he found a place to rest for the time being.

The Durge cleans everything up on autopilot, and then they talk. So starts their journey navigating all the factions in the city while trying not to die xd.

(I may write this as my next fic, hehe)

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 au #astarion #astarion/durge #gale #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #karlach #halsin bg3 #lae'zel #mizora bg3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 zevlor

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thedreadvampy · 21 days ago

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What would you call the genre of 2010s-2020s TV shows which are:

stylistic, with cinematic transitions and colorful shots

kind of tonally YA adjacent but aimed at adults; snappy, irreverent, probably centering some amount of mystery or detective work

mildly goth/alternative aesthetic and tone

involve pursuit by some manner of Paranormal Agency with a 60s bureaucracy aesthetic, either time travel or something similar, and a range of superpowers

the/a villain is almost certainly a woman with piled up hair and a skirt suit who character design and affect wise is doing what Michelle Gomez did in Doctor Who. Separately, Michelle Gomez may or may not also be there.

have an ensemble cast of quirky, sarcastic and jaded characters, interacting with a rotating cast of similarly quirky side characters

often but not always a comic book adaptation; either way, involves a heightened reality which aims to be as 'comicsy' as possible while achieving emotional verisimilitude.

I'm reasonably certain this has to now count as a genre or at least a concrete aesthetic cause I can reel off so many of these. Off the top of my head; Dirk Gently, Doom Patrol, Umbrella Academy, Loki, and Dead Boy Detectives, just to start. I think weirdly tonally and aesthetically these shows owe a lot to Pushing Daisies.

anyway yeah is there a name for this?

#red said #to be clear i like these shows (except Loki i haven't seen Loki but it's clearly the same thing)#but it is really starting to bug me how they are all so obviously aesthetically and tonally linked but idk what to call them #it's not 'comic adaptations' or even a specific imprint's comic adaptations bc #a) dirk gently is not a comic and if anything that might be the blueprint #and b) these are across the spectrum. marvel dc/vertigo dark horse #the commonality i guess is that except Dirk Gently all my examples are adapting minor-league alt titles from the 90s-00s #which is in itself a very specific type of comic. the Morrison-Gaiman-Ellis era of deconstruction #(and UU which comes from someone who grew up reading those)#(cause like idk about Gerard Way's taste in anything but based on the story and style of the comics he sure likes Hellboy)#anyway i like this vibe but also the 60s paranatural beaurocracy bit is kinda getting old for me and makes the shows start to run together #that's also probably the strongest connecting thread cause with the partial exception of Doom Patrol #the aesthetic of the Agency is basically. exactly the same. across the shows.#so obviously it's coming from a very very specific place

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boobo13cambridge · 2 years ago

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Drifting Apart I | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: Angst, physical violence (Y/N slaps him)

Summary: Y/N and Kylian’s relationship is crumbling as they navigate the most difficult moments of their lives. Will they stay or fall apart due to the pressure?

A/N: Hello, everyone! This is the first time I’ve ever written angst, so I really hope you guys give it much love. As always don’t forget to like, comment, and repost! Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

Tired.

Exhausted.

Drained.

Three words that fully encompassed her emotions as she finally put the triplets to sleep after a long day of cleaning up dirty diapers and writing a thesis. Y/N felt close to tears as she felt overwhelming guilt for being worn out at taking care of her babies when she loved them with all her heart. To make matters worse, she and Kylian had been getting into a lot of arguments lately. She knew how important and stressful this year was for him, and in the back of her mind, she wished that they had waited a bit more before having kids.

After getting married in the summer of 2021, the young couple wanted to enjoy a few years together before starting a family. Getting married so young, at the ripe age of 20 and 22, came as quite a shock to some (which in her eyes didn't make sense because a lot of footballers had kids even younger), but they were in love, and despite their parents' skepticism, they tied the knot on July 12, 2021.

Fast forward a year, and Y/N found herself staring at the two dark lines indicating that she's pregnant. Getting pregnant a few months before the 2022 World Cup was definitely not part of the plan, but with the support of their families, they made it through somehow. Throughout her whole pregnancy, Kylian was the best husband any woman could ever ask for, always so attentive and understanding of her every need. When they found out they were having triplets, and all boys at that, Y/N almost had a mental breakdown because she could never in a million years understand how she could ever be a mom to one kid, let alone three. It took Kylian, her mom, and two nurses and a doctor to calm her down.

And needless to say, the triplets, or as Kylian loves to call them 'his perfect hat-trick,' were born on December 4, 2022, right when Kylian had scored two goals to qualify France for the quarter-finals. In all honesty, she really wished she could have just given birth in Doha, but she was under strict surveillance and wasn't allowed to travel. Needless to say, in the moment, she was quite happy that she was having a c-section instead of a normal birth but regretted that soon after as it took way longer to recover. Kylian was definitely devastated to have missed his sons' birth and was this close to booking a flight back to Paris. It took Marcus and Ousmane to calm him down and talk him out of it.

A couple of days after that, France lost the World Cup, which absolutely broke her heart, but she was happy that her husband would be by her side. Post-World Cup, Kylian Mbappé was a very attentive father and husband, but she knew how much the loss had affected him and tried her best to cheer him up. She was secretly glad he had injured himself because he would finally get a break from playing with such a shitty team. Now, back to the present, May 28th, 2024, Post-Transfer Kylian Mbappé was moody and had a frown permanently etched on his forehead.

Once again, she tried to understand, knowing he had so much pressure on his shoulders from transferring to Real Madrid. He was Kylian Mbappé, the current greatest footballer, and people never gave him a break, always demanding perfection every match. He had a huge burden to carry, with the fans pointing out every little mistake he made on the pitch. The Madridistas had long anticipated his transfer, and they were out for blood. If the fans were demanding, then Kylian was even more demanding of himself. It was like living with the shadow of her husband. Gone was the sweet man who would make her breakfast in bed and massage her feet. In his place was someone who only had one thing on his mind: winning everything.

La Liga, Copa del Rey, Supercopa de España, UEFA Champions League, Euros, Summer Olympic Games.

She was going crazy just thinking about it. Lately, it was as if the only thing on his mind was trophies, and she couldn't stand it. The day before the La Liga final, which was held at the Bernabeu just two days ago, Kylian had once again started an argument just because she told him that she was tired of putting his dirty clothes in the laundry and that he should do it himself. The argument was so bad that she didn't even want to be there at the last match of the La Liga season, but on the day of the match, Kylian had profusely apologized and begged, so she forgave him and came to see him lift the trophy. This morning, Kylian had woken up in a foul mood and just seemed to want to be an absolute dickhead. He nitpicked at everything she did before leaving for practice, loudly complaining that she had put too much protein powder in his shake.

The whole day, she tried to text him and call him, but he was ignoring her calls. She had had enough; she couldn't deal with it anymore. Time and time again, she had tried to be understanding, swallowing and smiling through every single complaint and whine he let out. So what if he had his first Champions League final with his new club in three days? She didn't deserve to be treated like such a nuisance.

As she went to the kitchen to grab something to drink, she broke down into sobs. It was too much. She hated feeling like she wasn't enough. Kylian hadn't kissed her, much less said, "I love you," before storming out. For months, all he did was complain, complain, and complain.

The young woman heard the door open and close, instantly recognizing her lover's footsteps. She tried to muffle her sobs so he wouldn't hear, but she forgot that the kitchen lights were on.

Kylian walked right through the archway leading to the kitchen and stopped in his tracks when he saw her teary face, instantly feeling guilty. He knew he had been treating her horribly these past few months and that he should stop, but he had been so stressed with everything that he took it all out on the love of his life and the mother of his children.

"Bébé, are you okay?" he asked slowly, approaching her and trying to wipe her tears, but she moved back. Her action pained him because he realized how much of a jerk he had been.

"What do you think? Do I look like I'm okay?" she snapped at him, wiping the tears with the back of her hand, her voice filled with frustration.

"I'm sorry, my love. I've been such an ass-" he said apologetically.

"Yes, you have! You have no idea what I've been going through because of you!" she replied angrily, her tone laced with resentment.

"Bébé, you have no idea how sor-" he tried to explain, but she cut him off.

"Save your fucking apologies, Kylian! I don't fucking care anymore. You've made me feel like the biggest piece of shit these past few months," she spat out, her words filled with bitterness.

"You know how stressed I've been with the transfer and-" he started to defend himself, but she interrupted him.

"AND SO YOU DECIDED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME WHEN I-" she yelled, her tone conveying a mixture of anger and hurt.

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN GOING THROUGH WITH ALL THESE PEOPLE PUSHING THEIR EXPECTATIONS ON ME WHILE YOU SIT AT HOME-" he retorted, his voice tinged with frustration.

"SIT AT HOME? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN DO THE WHOLE DAY EXCEPT KICK A FUCKING BALL AROUND WHILE I TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS, CLEAN THE HOUSE, COOK FOOD, WRITE MY FUCKING THESIS, WHICH YOU NEVER EVEN BOTHER ASKING ABOUT BECAUSE OF COURSE THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD TURNS AROUND MR. HOTSHOT HIMSELF!"

"KICK A BALL AROUND ALL DAY? ME DOING THAT IS THE ONLY REASON WHY YOU SPEND THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS BUYING USELESS SHIT-"

"I USE MY OWN MONEY TO BUY SHIT, YOU DICKHEAD! AND THE ONLY USELESS SHIT I BUY WITH YOUR MONEY IS CLOTHES AND FOOD FOR THE CHILDREN YOU KNOCKED ME UP RIGHT AFTER I GRADUATED! I'VE SACRIFICED SO MUCH FOR YOU-"

"SACRIFICED?! WHAT HAVE YOU SACRIFICED FOR ME, HUH? STOP ACTING LIKE I KNOCKED YOU UP WHEN YOU WERE MORE THAN WILLING TO SPREAD YOUR LEGS FOR ME!"

SLAP.

The sound reverberated through the kitchen, accompanied by a sharp sting on Kylian's cheek. Pain radiated through his face, mingling with the shock that coursed through his veins. His hand instinctively reached up to cradle his burning cheek, his eyes widening in disbelief. The room seemed to spin as he struggled to comprehend what had just transpired.

Y/N's expression mirrored his own disbelief, her eyes wide with horror at the consequences of her actions. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the remorse that consumed her. She trembled, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what she had done. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, where the line between love and anger blurred into a haze of anguish.

"Kylian, I'm so sorry," she choked out, her voice quivering with remorse. Each word dripped with the weight of her regret, desperate to erase the irreversible damage she had caused.

His throat tightened, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling within him. The pain on his cheek competed with the anger that burned in his chest. He fought to find his voice, to process the torrent of thoughts that assailed his mind. The apology hung in the air, suspended between them, as he grappled with conflicting impulses.

Gulping down the lump in his throat, Kylian felt the anger surge within him, fueled by his own frustrations and insecurities. The relentless stress, anxiety, and guilt that had plagued him clawed their way to the surface, intertwining with the raw ache on his cheek. It was a toxic concoction that threatened to consume him, driving him to respond with his own fury.

But beneath the anger, a part of him acknowledged his own culpability. He was not blameless in this dance of discord. The weight of his actions pressed upon his conscience, intertwining with the pain on his cheek. The realization of his own flaws clashed with the indignation that simmered in his veins.

In that moment, Kylian made a choice. A choice to channel the anger, the hurt, and the guilt into something different. Instead of lashing out, he took a deep breath, summoning the last remnants of self-control. The anger flickered in his eyes, but he suppressed it, focusing on the vulnerability before him.

He approached Y/N slowly, his steps cautious and deliberate. His hand reached out, hesitantly, aiming to wipe away her tears, but she flinched, pulling back as if his touch were a reminder of her own transgressions. The ache in his heart matched the pain on his cheek, the longing to bridge the chasm that had formed between them.

Words hung unspoken, heavy with unexpressed emotions. They both knew that apologies alone were not enough to heal the wounds they had inflicted upon each other. The room remained steeped in anguished silence, punctuated only by the echoes of their shattered love.

As the weight of the moment settled upon them, Kylian and Y/N stood at a crossroads. A crossroads where anger and remorse converged, where past mistakes collided with uncertain futures. The path forward was shrouded in shadows, their once-solid foundation crumbling beneath the weight of their anguished hearts.

Time seemed to stand still in the wake of their confrontation, the air heavy with unspoken words and shattered expectations. The kitchen, once a sanctuary of shared laughter and intimate conversations, now felt like a battlefield, scarred by the aftermath of their verbal warfare.

Kylian's gaze never wavered from Y/N, his eyes tracing the contours of her tear-streaked face. He longed to bridge the distance between them, to mend the rift that had widened with each bitter exchange. The ache in his heart intensified, a poignant reminder of the love that had once bound them together.

Y/N's body trembled with a mix of regret, fear, and a longing for reconciliation. The weight of her actions bore down on her, leaving her feeling small and vulnerable. She yearned for solace, for the reassurance that their love could withstand the tempestuous storm that raged within them.

With measured steps, Kylian closed the physical gap between them, his heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and determination. He reached out once again, his hand hovering in the space between them, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, caught in the crosscurrents of conflicting emotions. Her gaze met Kylian's, searching for a glimmer of the man she had fallen in love with—the man who had once cherished her and their family above all else. Slowly, tentatively, she extended her trembling hand, allowing their fingers to intertwine, a fragile connection in the face of their shattered trust.

In that delicate touch, an unspoken promise lingered. It whispered of their shared history, the moments of tenderness and joy that had been eclipsed by their recent turbulence. It spoke of a willingness to rebuild, to confront their flaws and the demons that haunted them.

The silence, once heavy with resentment, now became a sacred space for introspection and reflection. The unspoken words hung in the air, their weight acknowledged by both parties. It was a moment of surrender, a recognition that love could not thrive in the absence of vulnerability and forgiveness.

However, despite their fragile moment of reconciliation, the scars of their previous altercation still festered beneath the surface. The guilt and anger that plagued them now resided like smoldering embers, waiting for the slightest breeze to ignite their fury once more.

The following morning, the house was shrouded in an uneasy silence. Kylian moved cautiously, as if walking on eggshells, acutely aware of the tension that lingered in the air. Y/N, her face etched with traces of weariness and apprehension, busied herself in the kitchen, desperately trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass pierced the fragile peace. Kylian's hand trembled as he gazed at the broken fragments scattered across the floor, his breath catching in his throat. The weight of his mistake crashed down upon him, triggering a surge of self-loathing.

Before Kylian could even react, Y/N's voice lashed out, sharp and cutting. "Kylian, how many times have I told you to be careful? You never pay attention to anything!" Her words dripped with frustration, a reflection of her own mounting resentment.

His heart sank, a mixture of shame and frustration swirling within him. The bitterness that had consumed him since their previous argument threatened to overflow. He could no longer bear the weight of his guilt and his bruised pride.

The room seemed to close in on them as Kylian's retort hung heavily in the air, each word a dagger aimed at Y/N's wounded heart. "Oh, what now? Are you going to slap me again, Y/N?"

The accusation cut through the air, leaving a palpable silence in its wake. Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief and hurt, her body trembling with a mixture of shock and anger. The triplets, sensing the rising tension, began to cry, their innocent wails intermingling with the growing storm of emotions.

Y/N's voice quivered as she fought back tears, her voice heavy with a mixture of sorrow and indignation. "How dare you say that, Kylian? I never wanted to hurt you, and you know it!"

The room trembled with their voices, each word a dagger aimed to wound, tearing at the fabric of their fragile bond. Kylian's face contorted with anger, his voice laced with a bitterness he could no longer contain. "Of course you never wanted to hurt me, right? You've done such a fantastic job so far!" Kylian spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Complaining and nagging every fucking day like I don’t already have enough of that every time I open social media"

Y/N's eyes filled with tears, a mixture of pain and disbelief etched on her face. She struggled to find her voice, to make sense of the torrent of emotions crashing over her. "I'm trying, Kylian. I'm trying so hard to hold us together, to be there for you and the kids. But it feels like nothing I do is ever enough!"

He scoffed, the bitterness in his voice turning his words into venom. "You? Trying hard? Don't make me laugh! All you do is complain and criticize. You're so quick to point out my faults, but what about your own? Or do you think you're perfect?"

Y/N's voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt. "I never claimed to be perfect, Kylian. But I've given up so much for you, for our family. I've sacrificed my dreams and aspirations to support you, only to be constantly belittled and dismissed!"

Kylian's eyes blazed with fury, his fists clenched at his sides. "Oh, so now it's all about your sacrifices, is it? What about mine? What about the pressure I face every single day, the weight of expectations on my shoulders?"

Their words collided in the air, their voices filled with resentment and unspoken pain. The triplets' cries grew louder, their innocence caught in the crossfire of their parents' anguish.

Unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, Kylian turned on his heels, his voice dripping with disdain. "I don't have time for this. I have a plane to catch, a team to lead. Maybe being away from you for a while will do us both some good."

As he stormed out of the house, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving Y/N standing in a sea of shattered hopes and shattered glass. The anguished cries of their children echoed through the empty rooms, a haunting reminder of the fractures in their once-unbreakable bond.

In that moment, as the gravity of their fight settled upon them, both Kylian and Y/N were left with a hollow ache in their hearts, each tormented by their own regrets and the uncertain path that lay before them.

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