Tumgik
#there isn’t enough interactions w those two so i made some myself
journeyintofiction · 2 years
Text
Jealousy
Request by Anon: Jealous Shuri
Happy reading :)
I stand before a floor length mirror in our shared chambers, staring at the beautiful dress Shuri had made specifically for this occasion. It’s a long red dress that has puffy sleeves, a fitted bodice, and flares out towards my feet. The little patterns, upon closer inspection, are flowers with the compliment of flecks of gold woven into the fabric. I look at myself and feel genuinely beautiful and almost like a princess who walked right out of a fairytale.
“Are you almost ready?”Shuri yelled from the bathroom.
“Yeah, just putting the finishing touches”, I replied with a small smile on my face. Tonight we were going to a charity gala that was being hosted by our mutual friend, Kyla. It was the first outing since everything that happened with the Talokan. It took some convincing for Shuri to feel up to the idea of going out into public, but she couldn’t say no to attending a charity gala for a good cause.
Shuri struts out of the bathroom and I take a moment to appreciate her outfit. She wears a jumpsuit that is black with accents of silver to compliment her typical jewelry. Her shoes are black heels that aren’t too high but high enough that her jumpsuit doesn’t brush against the floor.
“You look beautiful my love, you should dress like this more often.” I say with a smirk on my face.
In response she looks at me with an eyebrow raised and says, “oh really? I thought you liked me with less on?”
I feel my face get warm, thank god my complexion hides my blush, and respond “You know what I mean”. She opens her mouth to make another snarky quip but I beat her to it and get down to business. “Come on we need to go, the last thing we need is to be late.”, I say with a sense of urgency.
Shuri nods and responds, “Alright, Alright let's go.”
Once we arrive at the venue we step onto the red carpet and hold hands for pictures and move inside to greet our friend who is hosting the event.
“Y/N! Shuri! You guys are finally here, ugh I didn't know what I was going to do if you two didn’t show up” our friend Kyla says with exaggerated desperation.
I roll my eyes and respond with the same exaggeration, “You would just have to cancel everything if we didn’t show up, how pitiful that would have been.”
For a moment we all look at each other and then bust out laughing before calming down. Once calm we decided to walk around and mingle with the other guests while introducing ourselves to those we didn’t know. And at some point Shuri and I split off but we're close enough to see each other and come to one another's rescue if we see that the conversation isn’t going well. Just as I am moving to make my way back to Shuri’s side, a young man steps in front of me.
“Good evening” the man says in a deep voice. I look at him and realize he looks vaguely familiar but I cannot put my finger on it. I quickly realize I have been staring and quiet for longer than acceptable.
“Good evening, how are you?”, I decided that to find his intentions it was necessary to do small talk despite my deep seated hatred for it. I continue on and say, “ I don't believe we’ve met yet.”
He looked at me and blinked, almost shocked that I didn’t seem to recognize him at the moment and said, “ It’s me, Thomas from high school. I know I have changed a bit, but not so much that I'm unrecognizable.”
I quickly realize that's why he is so familiar to me but I’m slightly confused because we never kept in contact and he wasn’t in my group of friends in high school. Outside of the occasional greetings in class and the hallways we never interacted much.
Without noting my unease and confusion he continues on, “I hear that you are really big in the tech industry.”
I nod and try to laugh off the unsettling feeling I get from him and try to back out of the conversation without being rude.Then he does something I was hoping he wouldn’t.
He looks at me and in a raised voice asks, “Would you like to dance?”
With a proclamation like that I can’t say no without looking like an ass so I nodded and took his outstretched hand. All while I was frantically looking at Shuri but she had turned away for the moment and couldn’t remove me from the situation or cut in.
The first thing I noticed was how low his hand was on my back and how he constantly stares at me. It was weird and uncomfortable but I wasn’t going to make a scene and cause chaos so I just remained tense and was counting down the seconds until the dance ended. When we turned to the direction of Shuri I saw she was staring at the two of us with an expression that was neutral. But I could tell she was irritated and surprisingly, a touch jealous.
Thomas tried to continue engaging in conversation but it lacked any sincerity and I quickly went from friendly to polite with thinly veiled annoyance. Just as the dance was going to be completed he moves towards my face and kisses me on the cheek before I can pull away. I was shocked and disturbed that he would just kiss me out of nowhere with no warning or consent and just as I got ready to voice my displeasure Shuri appeared.
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t kiss my girlfriend without her explicit consent.” she stated while removing his hands from my waist.
He looked confused momentarily and then looked quite embarrassed about the whole display and quickly apologized to us, then made himself scarce.
Shuri looked concerned and asked, “Are you okay my love? Did he touch you in any other way that made you uncomfortable?”
I shook my head no and looked at her and still saw a tinge of jealousy and I cocked my head to the side and asked her quietly, “ Were you jealous of him dancing with me?”
She paused and looked at me then sighed, “yes.”
“Shuri-” I started
She shushed me and pulled me into a dance “ I am not mad, I just saw how interested he was and I know that everything that happened recently it's been a lot for you as my partner. I just thought for a moment you could have been better off with someone less … bothersome.”
I was taken aback and quickly quieted her worries, “you shouldn’t think such things.” I paused then snickered, “ I mean what ever would I do if I didn’t have to drag you out of the lab every night?”
“Y/N!”
Note:
This is my first official fanfic so please forgive any spelling and grammatical errors :) this definitely turned out longer than expected but I’m pretty happy with it. Also bare with me, I’m a college student with finals coming up so requests may take a day or two!
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mcmoth · 3 years
Text
BOIS
The aro c!Tommy propoganda is done.
Here:
Friends can be Home, too
Summary:
Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.
'Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.
 He couldn't doubt anymore.
A journey of introspection, self doubt, and realizing you're not alone.
Or read on ao3!
Warnings: swearing, internalized arophobia, which includes self doubt, a bit of self hate, that sort of stuff. Also, this will have like, mentions of attraction and all that stuff, and Tommy gets pretty confused, so if you'd like to avoid that? This isn't the fic for you, ig. Btw, as a reminder, this is all set in the dsmp universe and is not about the irl people in any way.
Now onto the fic!
Welp.
Tommy sure is ready to stab someone right now.
Well, not really. More accurately he wanted to run, or shrivel up into a fucked up raisin, or snap, or just exist in darkness right now. Because there were his two best friends, cuddling on the couch. And he was sat there, next to them, supposed to be enjoying movie night.
It's not like he wasn't happy for them. They can do what they want, he reminded himself, again and again. They're just expressing their love, they're just close, and Tommy has to stop being such a fucking oddball about it. This wasn't weird. It wasn't weird.
And he could even see Ranboo giving him looks, probably about to ask something stupid. But if he made any comment, expressed discomfort, that would just be him being a dick and a weirdo. He's not going to ruin this for them. He just has to… to ignore it. To ignore it. He can do that. Yes.
“You alright, Tommy?”
Tommy's jaw snapped, he could feel his teeth grinding, and the couch was feeling all too small. So with a fast raise to his feet, he stumbled away, throwing a brash “fine" Ranboo's way, something burning deep in the pit that was his chest.
It was fine. It was fine. Why wasn't it fine? What the fuck was wrong with him??
Maybe he was just…
Jealous.
 
***
 
“I think I have a crush on Hannah.”
Tubbo and Ranboo stilled. The silence was… bad.
“oh?”
Tommy gulped, anxiously crinkling the chip bag he got from targay. “Y-yeah.”
Tubbo hummed. “I've never seen you interact with her much. When… did that start?”
Tommy's mind buzzed, and he resisted crushing the food in his hands, reclining heavily against the backrest of the bench. “I-I don't know, uh, recently? I guess? She's just… nice. She uh…. Has pretty hair? And she gave me a flower once! That was just, swe- uh, poggers of her, so. Yeah. I just think… yeah.”
Tubbo nodded, head tilting. “Do you think she likes you back?”
Tommy's eyes widened, and he didn't know why he laughed, but he did, and when he responded, he himself was taken aback by the hiss accompanying the words. “No!! She- why would- no- no, I mean… m-ma- I don't know??”
Ranboo swung his tail. “She better not. I mean, how old is she?”
“What does that matter?”
Ranboo stared. “You’re a child. Technically.”
Tommy bristled. “Fuck you, I am a big man! I'll kill you!”
The conversation moved on after that, and Tommy, somewhere along the way, quickly got lost. Head filled with cotton, electricity running through his veins, feeling horribly, oddly, humiliated and strangely… dissatisfied.
They didn't care. And he just felt more confused than ever.
…Why did he even do that?
 
***
 
Tommy was walking, grass up to his knees, a lead in hand. When he reached the village, he tied it to a fence, patting his borrowed horse before placing feet on the path, comforted by the gravel crunching beneath his feet, the feel of the sun on his neck. He looked around, at the wooden houses and half stacked stalls and idle chatter. He looked around and he thought.
He thought back to older days. This was… strangely nostalgic. Walking alone, in an unfamiliar town, the vastness of the world enveloping him in it's many potentials. He still wasn't sure when he felt better. Running around on the streets, just trying to survive, noone by his side, weak but naïve, hopeful. Or now, with some people to care for and trust, a place to return to, enough food in his pack, but shouldered with the weight of a dozen betrayals, life slipping past him three times too many. In a sense, he was still just trying to survive. Everything was so different now, yet the same.
He supposes, one thing that remained, was the sense of loneliness.
He grasped the front of his shirt, taking in the beating of his heart, looking at the strangers mingling amongst themselves. At the pairs, at the couples, at the families, sharing laughs and smiles, a contrast to the furrowed brows or tired amusement of shopkeepers and the idle folk visiting them.
He had always wanted a family.
…there was one way to get a family.
Someone to share laughs with. Someone who would comfort you. Someone who would take your hand, or hold you through the night, and never even leave. Someone who promises to stay.
It was a nice thought.
So why was it so hard to conceptualize? To imagine, to picture someone actually coherent, to look at a person and go – yes. I want to be your partner.
...eugh. just that sentence made his whole nervous system do a double take.
But why? Why? Was it the betrayals? Was it some fucked up self conscious mind shit? Was that it? Was he just fucked up in the head? Maybe.
Maybe.
But as it is, he knew he liked girls. He did. He liked them. They were… they were nice. Like Niki, who smelled of baked goods, and had a soft smile, and who had once given him a hug when she found him crying during the revolution, and who looked very nice in dresses. Or Puffy, who had made him a pickaxe when he asked for one, and who opposed Jack in stealing his hotel, and who offered him therapy, and she had really cool horn rings. Or Hannah, with her red flowers, and pretty builds, and the way the nature seemed just a bit more lively with her around, and her laugh was bright with mischievous intent that he could empathize with. They… they were nice. Yeah. Most girls were so nice.
So why… why hadn't he found one that he could. Actually picture doing… anything. In his head. No kissing, no dates, none of that… shmuck. It was just… he could see many girls his age running around, just now, in front of his eyes, many running through his mind as he searched his memories. None of them… no. And he tried thinking of boys, but that didn't… no. Not that either. …Enbies?
No… no, nothing… nothing felt. Good. None of it felt good, he just felt sick, he just felt weird, he didn't even feel dirty per se, but more like he was charting into foreign grounds, into something alien, and none of the thoughts he forced to visualize behind his eyelids, fleeting from how quickly he shut them out, felt like him. It didn't feel like him.
His fingers trembled, his chest felt tight, throat choked, and his head, on his shoulders, heavy and woozy and oh so muddled. He felt his heart race. Was… was that it? Maybe that was a sign. People said heart racing was a sign of attraction. Was there anyone in particular who did that? Maybe he was wrong – he was not lacking or messed up or broken, he just had buried the feelings so deep below his ribs, underneath fabricated doubts and trauma and the disconnect he had with reality and relationships in general, and once he got over those barriers, and just found someone, he would experience that joy that everyone spoke about. That closeness. He just had to… allow himself to get closer. To know more people, know them better.
That was… that was probably it.
But no matter. He raised his eyes, his senses coming back to him like the wind blowing his hair out of his eyes, blinking at the noise around him.
After all, he still came here for a reason.
 
***
 
“Yeah, I like these ones the best,” Tubbo said as he handed Tommy the various colored discs. Tommy nodded, smiling as he sorted through them, writing down the names in his notepad, feeling little stones dig into his elbows. Tubbo joined him fully on the ground, laying down next to him. “What do you need these for, anyways?” he blinked, and there was a smirk growing on his face. “Are they for… someone?”
Tommy furrowed his brows, staring at the other. “What?”
Tubbo chuckled nervously, waving his hand around as he stumbled over his words. “You- you know. Like a gift? Are you going to… to try to, get someone?”
Tommy’s stare just became sharper, becoming even more confused. “What??” What the fuck was he talking about?
“You know, like a- a date?” Tommy blanked. “Cause- you know, you've been talking about girls a lot lately, and I just thought-"
“No.” Tommy interrupted, feeling numb. “No, it's not for a fucking girl.”
“Oh.” Tubbo laid on the grass, clearly uncomfortable. He began to tear up the leaf he had picked up. “Sorry, I just thought- I'm not really good at this whole thing… sorry for assuming. W- …what is the reason, then?”
Tommy sighed, thankful for the topic change. “It's for… you know how I’m going to therapy?”
Tubbo hummed in affirmation.
“Puffy suggested that, since I like music, I should like, indulge in that, use it to calm myself or give myself something to do, that junk. So I’ve just been. Collecting, I guess.” He looked over the list again, then closed the notepad and sat up, discs in hand. “I wanna build a place where I just keep all the records, maybe I’ll even sell the ones I don't like. Good business practice, you know?”
Tubbo brightened. “Oh! That sounds really cool! If you need help with the building part, I can help you, by the way!”
Tommy looked at Tubbo's grin, so sweet and infectious, and his heart thawed, thinking of working with Tubbo again, building towards something together. It was a nice thought. “Alright.”
It would be nice to be with Tubbo again.
 
***
 
Tommy felt miserable.
This… this was miserable. He didn't know why. It really shouldn't be – it was just music. He was just sorting through all of his music, picking ones he liked, picking ones to comfort him, he loved music, it was fine, it just…
Why did so many of the songs have to be about love.
It made him feel angry and hurt and alone in a particular way that was so familiar and yet so utterly different. Because when he felt alone before, he fought with himself the same, he sunk into the thoughts of being unlovable or broken or undeserving of company, but at least he could understand it. At least he could look back now and think “Dream was a bitch" and that would be some solace. At least he could have hope that even if he was unlovable, he could still love. Love others. Try to seek others. Even if he never got that back.
But now, hearing all the poetics and sweet confessions that were in such abundance, something that sounded so passionate and revered, so integral, it was like looking into another reality he didn't, couldn't, understand, and suddenly, he felt more alien than ever before.
And most importantly, how fucking stupid that was, that the thing that made him feel that way was love.
Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.
Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.
He couldn't doubt anymore.
God….
He laid on the ground, head to the cold floor, the record still spinning. The noise bounced off the dark wooden walls and into his skull, grating and aching. He covered his ears, messed up his hair, breathed in and out. In and out. What was wrong. What was wrong.
The record fell to silence. Then it started back again, as it automatically swapped out. Next.
His fingers felt restless, his whole body did. He tapped his skull, feeling the thumps echo. Breathe in, and breathe out. Breathe-
“-ow will I ever know you enough to love you, if you're hiding who you are?
Don't ask me to explain-"
He startled, his breath catching. This disc was scratchier than the others. It felt different. Something in him drew in the lyrics, head loud. He blinked.
…He's not hiding. Is he? Hiding what? He’s- no. Just- Breathe in-
“-Who are you hiding from, across the table with a penny in each eye?
Don't ask me to explain, don’t ask me to explain-"
His breath escaped, arms trembling as his body froze. He didn't understand. He couldn't explain. He wanted to cry. Something was unravelling.
“I'd like to marry all of my close friends, and live in a big house together by an angry sea,”
He sobbed.
He did, he thought, with surprise, as the tears fell.
“Am I the devil's marbles don't move on without me,
Who will be watching my body when I sleep?
Who will I believe in?”
Something… yeah.
Something happened.
Because suddenly, all that stress, all that confusion, all that loathing, was detangling, and the tears ran deep, ran painful, silent, wheezing screams escaping as the sobs continued. He couldn't breathe. His chest was tight. His head swam, and he felt oh so light headed. Light. He felt light. Happy. He felt alive.
He felt understood.
He- he wanted that! He could- he wanted to live with his friends, with Tubbo with Ranboo. He wanted to stay as friends. He wanted them to protect him, to be able to trust them, to be able to protect them in turn, he wanted to reside with them, he wanted to sleep amongst them, to have them watch over him, safe, he wanted to wake up in the morning and see the sun rise with then, he wanted to have casual dinner with them, he wanted to grow old together with them. As friends. As friends.
Friends.
What a lovely thing…
He could… he could live with his friends…
He could build a family with his friends.
And he didn't even care at that moment that he didn't know how Tubbo and Ranboo would feel about that. He didn't care whether they'd want him at their house, whether they'd want him around at all. He didn't even care, at that moment, if he couldn’t join them.
Because he realized that it was a possibility at all. Just the prospect, just the thought, the realization, that spending your life, being intimate, finding a stable ground, with your friends, not romantic partner, was possible, that it was possible to not be able to feel otherwise, that it was shared by other people, who wrote this song, who sung it, who had thought about it��
It meant he couldn't be that alone after all.
“It's so easy to lie to myself,
And pretend that I could love you, but I can't"
And oh so comforting it was, that he couldn't.
 
***
 
“Ey, Ranboo! Bitchboy!”
Ranboo suppressed a smile, an exasperated sigh hissing through his teeth. Tail swishing, he glanced to the other boy, who was down below, standing in the snow.
“C'mere!! I gotta give you something.” He yelled.
Ranboo raised a brow, but complied, closing the window he had been looking out of. After making a quick detour to check on Michael, he made his way down the stairs and stepped out of the doorway and into the light. Tommy bounded to him, big grin on his face. He seemed jumpier than usual. Ranboo smiled in turn. “what is it?”
Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it, instead going to rummage through his bag. What he took out was a… box? “Here, fuckboy.”
Ranboo winced, taking the container. “Don't call me that.”
“Why, what does it mean?”
Ranboo stared. “Just…. Don't.”
Tommy blinked, laughing nervously. “o-okay.”
Moving on, Ranboo inspected the item in his hands. It was medium sized, and made of simple, but elegant, smooth black wood. On the top, there was a leather sign embedded in it, with the word Beloved stitched into it. His ears flickered. This seemed… awfully nice. “What’s in it?”
Tommy scoffed. “Just open it, you twat.”
Ranboo, with a glance, could see the anxious way Tommy was holding himself, seeming impatient and uncomfortable. So he wasted no more time, and clicked open the surprisingly sturdy iron latch after a moment of struggling, and what awaited him inside was…
“…Discs…?”
Ranboo held his breath, fingers twitching as he held the gift. …was it a gift?
Tommy was staring at the ground. “Yeah. You know, I’ve just been traveling around, collecting, and I wanted to…” He seemed to shake himself lightly, hands wringing. “I wanted to give you some, I guess. That… yeah. These are yours.”
Ranboo was stiff, still perceiving the actual gift in his hands, that looked hand made, that was hand picked, that Tommy had worked to attain, just to give to him. His tail curled, and he carefully, delicately closed it's lid and hugged it close to his chest. “I… Thank you. Thank- O-oh wow…”
Tommy scowled. “You look like a fish. It's not a big deal. Just… take a listen sometime, won't ya?”
“Y-yeah!” Ranboo reverently nodded, cursing the way his eyes felt misty. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll definitely listen, and cherish it. Thank you, Tommy.”
Tommy curtly nodded. “Alright. Pog.” And then, he was turning around, walking away with a quick “Share it with your family, too, some day. Bye.” Thrown or his shoulder.
And then, he was gone.
 
***
Tubbo heard music down the hall.
Ears tilting towards the pleasant sound, he skipped with bare feet over to the source, evening light casting warm glow through the windows as he went. When he arrived, to what was Michael's bedroom, he found Ranboo on the couch, curled gently over their son, head resting on his little head as he seemed to just… listen, wistful. Michael was listening too, letting out a little yawn as he turned his head to snuggle even deeper into his parent's warm embrace. Tubbo smiled softly at the scene.
Quietly, he patted over to them both, Ranboo eventually noticing him and watching him as he did. Tubbo buried a hand in Ranboo's hair, and the other leaned in. “What are you listening to?”
Ranboo didn't rush to explain, letting the comforting silence fill the space. When he spoke, it reminded Tubbo of soft flower petals and honey. “I didn't know Tommy's music taste was so…”
Tubbo blinked, turning to the disc lazily turning on the jukebox near them.
“-But in the end, I don't really care what you think,
Cause the bottom line is you make me happier than I’ve ever been...”
“wholesome.” He chuckled, fondly.
Tubbo hummed, unsurprised. “Tommy gave you these?”
Ranboo leaned more heavily in the couch. “Yeah. I don't know why, but…”
Tubbo's smile only deepened as he thought. Slowly, he replied, “I think he just wanted to show you he cared.”
Ranboo seemed to lose his breath a little, looking up at the other. “You think so…?”
Tubbo carded his fingers through Ranboo's hair, looking past Ranboo's twitching ears. “Tommy doesn't do things like these without reason. If he gave you something, it’s safe to say you mean a lot to him. He doesn't like to show it, usually, but… that I know.”
Ranboo stared at the turning of the discs, breathing softly. His tail curled around Michael. “Oh.”
Tubbo sat down at his feet and joined in.
Hearts warm, they laid there and listened until the sun had cast it's last rays and the jukebox no longer had a melody to spin.
 
***
 
Tommy sat behind the counter, feet on the counter, just trying to eat his discount chips while some people were being dumb children.
“Stop throwing the fucking food! I'll have to clean this up later!” He whined, to which Tubbo and Ranboo just threw him a glance, Tubbo’s apathetic and Ranboo's at least vaguely guilty, before Tubbo went right back and threw another gummy worm Ranboo's way.
Tommy scowled. “Seriously. At least pick them up and eat them.”
Ranboo made a face of disgust. “I'm not gonna eat candy off the floor, Tommy.”
“Yeah, some of us don't eat mud, Tommy.” Tubbo added.
“There’s no fucking mud here! It's a clean floor! You can totally pick them up and eat them, what the fuck!”
Tubbo raised his brows, staring. “Okay, then go and eat them, trash boy.”
“Okay, that's it.” Tommy raised to his feet, left his chip bag on the table and ran to Tubbo. Tubbo squawked, crawling onto the armchair he was reclining in to curl into a ball around his bag, but Tommy just threw himself onto the armchair with him, trying to reach for the candy. Which, considering the position, it was more like he was half-tickling, half hugging the other more than anything. “Give me that.”
Tubbo just burst out laughing, trying to hide deeper into the couch, attempting to kick the other away. “St-Stoppp!”
“C'mon, you disobeyed my shop's rules, I’m just confiscati-"
Something hit his head. Tommy stilled.
Ranboo peeked from behind his own candy bag, before digging into it again.
Tommy laid off of Tubbo slightly, raising like a puffed up cat. “Ranboo, you fuck!”
Tubbo laughed again, and Tommy was about to go on a murder spree, only for all the commotion to halt when they heard a sudden 4th voice.
Michael.
“Oh shit.”
Ranboo sighed. “He's awake. C'mon.”
Tubbo sighed as well, rolling out of the couch and dragging his feet towards the source of the oinks. “For the record, this is not my fault.”
Both of the other boys gave him the stink eye, but in the name of preserving needed ceasefire they held their tongues.
Michael was sitting up in Tommy's bed that resided in the backrooms, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and hiccuping. Tubbo reached for him, lifting him up. “Aww, did we wake you up? I'm sorry, little bossman.”
Michael clutched Tubbo's shirt, muttering something in piglin.
“He's asking what all that noise was.” Tommy quickly translated, before turning his eyes back to the kid and saying something soft in piglin back. Michael listened, seeming to quiet a little.
Ranboo, gathering that it was an affirmation, smiled and took one of Michael's hooves gently. “Yeah, we were just having fun. Do you want to have fun, too, Michael?”
Michael’s big eyes widened, and he wiggled in Tubbo's grip. “Ye! Ye!”
They chuckled, and Tubbo transferred his hold of Michael to Ranboo, who led the way in making it back to the front of the shop, chatting with his son all the while.
Tommy bumped his shoulder with Tubbo's as they walked, but didn't say anything further. Tubbo bit back a grin.
The next hour was spent feeding Michael and letting him listen to some new discs. Tommy even remembered he had some records that were in piglin, some songs, some stories, and put them on, which seemed to enrapture Michael quite a bit, immersed in the new voices and tales and familiarity. The three boys let him sit in Ranboo's lap and get lost in his own world, residing on a couch together and quietly chatting, around them comfortingly dark walls, bookshelves and the smell of wood and candles.
Eventually, the conversation steered.
“You know, Tommy, why don't you join us?”
…huh?
Tommy blinked, willing his breathing to restart and for the words to come. “W-what?”
Tubbo looked at him with warm eyes and a trepidant smile. “Like, how would you feel about coming to Snowchester? Live with us?”
Ranboo waved his hand. “Of course, you don't have to! But we just thought, you know, if you'd like a bit more, uh, company…”
“We want to be with you, is all.” Tubbo added quietly.
Tommy's heart raced, and he only blinked more, hands clutching the fabric of his pants. “B- be with me… are you…” he gulped down the butterflies clogging down his windpipes, still trying to understand that this is real. “are you sure…?”
Ranboo grinned, patting Michael's head idly. The piglin looked up at them. “Yeah! You're family, Tommy, after all.”
Tubbo tilted his head. As Tommy was still struggling to respond, he assured, “You don't have to if you don't want to, big man. No pressure.”
Tommy laughed, weak and breathless, but bright. “No, I-I’d- I'd really want that, but…” he gestured, trying to put his worries to sudden coherent sentences. “wouldn't that be… awkward? Like… you two, just, l-lovebirds," he chuckled clumsily, “and then there's… me, just, there?”
Tubbo shared a look with Ranboo, then turned back and laughed. “You won't be a third wheel, if that's what you’re asking.”
“Yeah, it's not like we’re really romantic partners, even, it'll be fine.” Ranboo said.
Tommy stilled.
Blinked.
“Uhw- what?”
The other two tensed, Tubbo quickly glancing at his husband before grimacing, thinking deep on how to explain it. “You know, we… we're not really… romantic? We just decided to marry? But we're… not platonic either, it's…”
“I-It's something inbetween. Queerplatonic is the word? I think?”
“It's hard to explain-"
“There's- there's a word for that? And you were- Like. Friends? Living together, this whole time??” Tommy reeled, head in hand.
“Well, not exactly friends, or at least, with how we decide to label our relationship, but… yes?”
“Oh my-" Tommy slumped forwards, now both of his hands holding his head upright, just. Breathing. “Shit. What the fuck. I…” he laughed, wrecked.
Tubbo and Ranboo stared at him, uncomfortable. Tubbo frowned. “Look, if you… if you're gonna say something, I’d rather-"
“No- nono, it's…” he raised his eyes, slowly, like coming out of a cave and into the light. His words tripped upon his tongue, but he was so eager to know. “So you two don't want… romantic partners?”
They blinked. “Not… particularly, no.” Ranboo replied. “…are you okay?”
Tommy laughed. It sounded stilted even to his ears, senses muddled as he was wrapped up in his own head, his own elated feelings, his heart nearly bursting at the seams. “I-I’m not alone.”
Tubbo stared, but then his eyes softened. He sighed, and his smile was immensely gentle, while looking at his friend. “Oh, Tommy…” Ranboo, beside him, wilted the same.
Michael, inbetween them, looked at all three of them silently.
“…Do you want a hug?” Tubbo quietly offered.
Tommy quickly nodded, slumping into Tubbo's side and burying his face in Tubbo's soft hair, not even caring for the way one of his horns poked into his cheek slightly. He held the other, and Tubbo held him. He felt the end of Ranboo's tail drape over his leg.
With a delicate tone and worn vocal chords, he quietly, and simply, admitted. “I'd love that. I'd really love that. Living with you three.”
Tubbo tightened his hold.
That night, Tommy fell asleep not alone, but with his two other closest people, his family. Safe, warm, with that insistent nagging at the back of his chest cavity, that told him he was alone, that he was wrong about himself, that he never even knew himself at all, finally silenced.
He had never felt more at home.
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junova · 4 years
Text
↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.
pairing: au!steve x fem!reader
word count: 3K+
warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.
[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3
also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.
ps. don’t forget to vote! <3
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Stevie,
First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.
A good man.
The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.
Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.
More. More. More.
More. More. More.
It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.
I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?
For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.
Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.
A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.
But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.
With much love, your forever friend.
Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.
“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.
Your supposed, secret letter.
“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.
“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.
“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.
“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.
“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.
The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.
Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.
On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.
He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.
Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.
“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.
“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?
“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.
“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”
Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.
“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.
Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.
“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.
Emptiness.
It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.
From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.
Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.
Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.
Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.
You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.
His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.
You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.
Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.
Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.
You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.
Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.
You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.
Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.
The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.
“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”
“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.
“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.
“I think so.”
“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.
If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.
“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.
Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.
Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.
The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.
“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.
He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.
“Are you sure you’re o-”
Just like that.
Fuck.
Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.
He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.
No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.
What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.
Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.
The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.
Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.
You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.
Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.
“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.
“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.
Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.
“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”
Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.
You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.
“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.
“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”
You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.
“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.
“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.
The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.
“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.
“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.
“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”
“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.
“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.
You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.
“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.
Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.
“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before,  I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.
“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.
“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.
“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.
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cassanovancats · 3 years
Text
felicitate. eight.
seven < current > nine
Dec. 22-24, 2017
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The next couple of days is spent mostly watching the whirlwind of your classmates and teachers preparing. You, Maki, and Yuta are left to your own devices which means you three are often spotted walking aimlessly around campus. You especially have spent the passing days considering what your brothers will be facing, and trying to strategize against the unknown Satoru warned you about. It’s after your daily meditation you decide fuck it.
Everyday as a sorcerer is spent wondering if it’ll be your last. You see horrors far beyond any normal person’s imagination, all to protect people who will never know you exist if you do your job right. To do this job, to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you must constantly be ready to die. You have seen plenty of colleagues' horribly mangled bodies already as a first-year. It’s common. In fact, the fact that your entire class is still alive is an anomaly.  And after meditating on the ever-increasing likelihood that death will touch your life far closer than it ever has before, you decide there is no need to hide feelings that Satoru insists are reciprocated.
You approach Inumaki first, since he was also raised in the jujutsu world and likely to be open to your proposition. You explain all of your reasoning before taking a deep breath and getting to the heart of the issue, “I-I like you. Maybe even love.”
“Salmon,” he beamed, markings exposed in the sanctuary of your room. He’s especially beautiful in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, clutching a stuffed animal he had won for you at a festival years ago.
“But I also like Yuta. I haven’t talked to him yet, but I’m interested in trying this between all of us.” Your hands twist over each other in anxiety. Even with the decision to no longer try to deny feelings, it is hard to be so open. How on Earth did Satoru manage to be so aloof about relationships? You see Toge’s hand cover yours.
“Salmon, bonito flakes,” he reassures, leaning down to catch your eyes. A weight lifts off your shoulders. You didn’t fuck up your friendship and he’s equally interested in a relationship. Inumaki watches you smile for the first time since you dragged him from the hallway. He slowly places a hand on your chin and lifts your head to face him. “Salmon roe?”
You nod, but don’t wait for him to close the gap. Leaning up, you lightly kiss his lips, eyes fluttering close at their softness. There’s a small tingling sensation, one you have long associated with the surge of cursed energy mixing with yours. It's an exhilarating feeling when copying someone's technique, but like this, you think it's addicting. You pull back first, sighing happily with your eyes still closed. You wear matching blushes and smiles.
“I know you have to get back to preparing to leave….” You bite your lip reluctant to let him leave after finally getting a taste. You had known Toge since you were both children thanks to clan meetings. Only in the past year, working closely and interacting frequently, have you realized your feelings for the boy. Now there is a chance to have him and Yuta, if you are able to explain how polyamory isn’t so strange for sorcerers (though historically, it has been accompanied by power imbalances in favor of the strongest sorcerer in the relationship).
“Tuna?”
“Just happy,” you nuzzle your forehead into his neck before sitting up straight. “I’ll talk to Yuta, since we both will be here at the school. Then, if he agrees and when you get back,” you poke a finger in his ribs, “all in one piece, we can talk about how this will work.”
“Salmon,” He gives one more last, quick kiss before leaving your room. You slide to the floor against your door, sighing happily. God, Satoru is going to be so smug. You bite your lip to hide your lovesick smile, pulling your phone out to text him an update on your lovelife.
You didn’t get a chance to talk to Yuta for a while. When you had finally collected yourself enough to leave your room, he was nowhere to be found on campus. The next morning, your class ate breakfast together before everyone left for their posts. Yuta had been there, of course, but he hesitated before sitting across from you and Inumaki (strange on its own - you three often all sat together). Even then, Yuta blushed and avoided eye contact with you and Toge, looking especially flustered at the casual, platonic skinship you shared with everyone. Not to mention the heavy atmosphere of a looming battle. You resolved to find him after everyone left; less people on campus meant less people interrupting, anyways. You sent everyone off with a hug, but your brothers and Toge got an additional kiss on the cheek.
(Megumi made a show of wiping it off and snarling at you. You wonder how long his rebellious phase will last.)
It took a while, but you were finally able to track Yuta’s energy to the empty training room. He was comparing his katana’s blade to a few other swords kept by the school. “You know, half of those are technically on loan from the Gojo clan. The other half is almost entirely from the Zen’in clan, but there’s one or two from Toge’s family and other small clans.” You muse, tracing the intricate design on the handle of one you recognized as belonging to your family. Yuta jumped from your sudden appearance. “Wanna spar? It seems like maybe you’re avoiding me but I wanted to talk to you. If I did something wrong you can get that aggression out before we talk,” You offer.
“No! I-I mean, no, I’m not avoiding you. Yeah, we can spar if you want.”
You smirk a little, “Alright.” You grab one of the wooden staffs next to the actual blades and shrug off your jacket. Gesturing to the center of the room where a circle marks a training ring, you say, “No cursed energy. I haven’t warmed up any.”
Yuta nods and takes his position opposite you. “Ready?” He asks. He waits for your nod before rushing forward, catching you off guard. You click your tongue, surprised at how fast he moved to attack. Your staff connects with a harsh clash, blocking his before it gets too close to your body. He retreats slightly, clearly analyzing you for any weak spots, and asks, “What did you need to talk about?”
“Toge and I and you…. Maybe” Grunting, you move to attack but Yuta side-steps. You plant your feet and use momentum to change your direction to where he now stands. He grits his teeth when you connect a hit. “I know you grew up normally, but we like each other and you.” You take a few steps back, knowing this possible mental blow is best delivered without a physical one. “And I think you like us, too.”
Yuta’s mouth hangs open, gaping at you and loosening his grip on his staff. “W-what? Like - like all three of us -?” He seems unable to complete the sentence.
“Yeah,” You nod, moving forward to sweep his feet out from under him. It’s a simple move, one he learned to avoid months ago, but he seems defenseless right now. You stand and pin him to the ground with the end of your staff against his forehead. “I know it’s somewhat strange out there,” you wave your hand dismissively, “but sorcerers have done it for ages. Toge and I know that, but you don’t have the same background.”
“But I thought - you two kissed!” He points an accusing finger.
“How did you know that?” You frown, cocking your head to the side. You shake the question away, deciding it didn’t matter, and offer a hand to help him up. He ignores it. “I mean, the first hurdle here is knowing if you like both of us.”
Yuta blushes furiously but doesn’t refute you. It takes him a second to recover from how blunt you said it but eventually he manages to spit out an affirmative. The brightness of your smile takes him longer to recover from.
“Great! That’s really good. Toge-kun will be excited to hear that.” You wipe some sweat off your forehead and try to contain your excitement. “Since he’s away right now, I think we should wait to have this conversation in person. Neither of us want you to feel pressured to agree for whatever reason either, so it’ll give you some time to think about it.” You move to leave him alone to do just that, but you can’t stop yourself from giving one last big smile. “I’m really happy you’re even thinking about this, Yuta.”
You spend the rest of the day with your head in the clouds, completely over the moon at the idea of your new relationship. Satoru loses his mind when you call to give a status update, which causes you to dissolve into a puddle of lovesick goo. At dinner, where it’s just you, Yuta and Maki, you can’t help your puppy-dog eyes. Maki kicks your shin several times, embarrassed just from looking at you.
You keep to your word though, so much so when Yuta approaches you on the next day, you ask several times if he is sure he wants to talk now. You hadn’t even had much time to think about the logistics of a poly relationship, too focused on how to keep your preparations a secret. It was surprisingly hard to hide your smuggled bow and quiver until you reached a rooftop near the entrance. Eventually you yield though, and he drags you to an empty classroom. “(y/n), I really want to tell you not to take this the wrong way, but honestly, there’s no right way to take it.” You feel your stomach drop, but he continues, oblivious. “I just can’t be in a relationship.”
“Like, in a relationship with Toge and I specifically?” You’re not sure where the strength to ask that question came from. You’re not even sure you want to hear the answer.
“Yes,” He finally makes eye contact. “I mean, no! God,” Yuta runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I’ve never had to reject anyone before, jeez. You two, both of you,” he blushes heavily, “are the only ones I see myself in a relationship with. I just can’t be in one when I have Rika. It doesn’t feel right.”
You nod, trying to hide the hurt and embarrassment you think you just might drown in. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Yuta sighs.
“Well, I guess I’ll tell Toge then. Unless you wanted to?” You offer hopefully, but he shakes his head. “Alright. I hope we can still be friends, Yuta.” You instinctively go to hug him but stop yourself halfway. Muttering a soft apology, you brush past him to leave.
You go straight to where you had hidden your bow, bringing along a sword for close-ranged fighting. All borrowed from the school, but you made sure to take ones originally from the Gojo clan as an extra reassurance. You really needed that reassurance now.
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furiousgoldfish · 3 years
Text
I haven't been writing a lot lately because my recovery has been taking a wild turn and in lack of anyone to talk to or therapy, I'll be writing about it here! I'll put it under a cut. There are some descriptions of recovery going very wrong, and also explanations of things I was wrong about.
So since the pandemic started I've been deteriorating badly, first I've been processing trauma extensively, having intense breakdowns and gradually it turned into depression from lack of stimulation, I've been completely alone for months without speaking to, or seeing anyone. I thought it was the isolation getting to me, and decided I just need to endure that, indulge in whatever coping I could and wait for it to end. And then things got worse.
Even as normally I was seeing some very slow progress in recovery; now it was going backwards; I was having less and less ability to get anything done, I wasn't able to force myself to do my job for months, I kept getting stuck in bed for weeks, chronic pain got so bad I couldn't move on most days. And, it only kept going worse.
My breakdowns stared to be about the present instead of the past; I couldn't handle being in pain all the time. As in before I would recover from a breakdown within a day or two, now it took 4 days to a week, and the trauma episodes would last for hours, so intense I'd find myself hoping I would die during it.
And then, I started losing all mobility and this seriously freaked me out. Everything above I've already experienced before, without long term consequences, but now my body was losing function in a way that felt permanent; I could no longer move for more than few minutes, and without extensive pain. Sometimes I would try to get up and end up collapsing and screaming from how much it hurt, I would move my arm and my whole body would experience a shock of intense pain. I was scared, I no longer knew what was going on, I was suspecting something more than ptsd was wrong. I've forced myself into physical activity, trying to fight this, I tried stretching, exercising, running, punching, and every single one of these activities made it incredibly worse. I thought I had broken my body by laying down too much. I no longer felt anything but terror and dread, and kept spiralling into scenarios of my own death; it felt inevitable, I wasn't going to survive without ability to move, nobody would take care of me.
I tried out medicine that helps relaxing, it had minimal effect. Then, in desperation to check if this was all ptsd, I attempted self harm, to see if it erases the pain. It did. It lowered the pain significantly It was a big relief, even though I wasn't happy with resorting to that, at least I could move around for a while, and I was grateful for that. Times couldn't be more desperate, and the measure felt fitting. I was still in a very bad shape, and the pain was only somewhat lessened.
It was about that time someone sent me the Complex PTSD book; I had wanted it for a while and immediately went to read it. I felt some relief reading it, and I was struck with the realization that I have not felt any relief in more than a year. It also surprised me with some of the exact descriptions of my behaviour, that I didn't realize was a symptom. I thought it was necessary and smart of me to live in hiding, to avoid interaction and never connect to anyone; it kept me safe. It turns out it's a regular freeze response to trauma; I got very called out for it. It also explains that a freeze response is what people use when anything else doesn't work, and it's true! I had been fighting, fawning and perfecting myself desperately prior to realizing that absolutely nothing helps, and froze to survive. It also described that freeze types are capable of surviving prolonged isolation because their brains produce hormones that relax the body as if they're going thru a moment before death; also true for me, I've been aware my brain does that, only I get that way too often, and it only helps me marginally because I'm too used to it.
Another thing I was very wrong about was my concept of my inner critic; I thought I had already won that battle, because I did not allow any voice in my head to criticize me (my alters can drag me affectionately), and I generally didn't experience a lot of shame or guilt for what I was going thru. The book describes inner catastrophizer, which is an extention of the critic, and it causes you to spral into extremely negative scenarios of your own demise. Now that.. was happening to me every single day, I saw myself dead around every corner. But I always thought my fears about that were perfectly reasonable. I had been tortured into suicidal state as a kid and nobody cared, I barely escaped with my life from there, I was living illegally, in hiding, without a normal job or regular income, without close friends or any family, with ptsd i couldn't get diagnosed for, without ability to work due to ptsd, in a capitalistic society where being able to work is only thing between you and dying. I had, by that point, gained many skills of survival, but it still felt very reasonable to fear that I would die if I don't get better soon.
The book described people who had families, jobs, social circles, friends and community, who spiraled into deep fear of becoming homeless and dying on the street; somehow their spiraling was exactly the same as mine, and it made me realize that it was, in fact, a symptom, and not reflection of reality. Because I was spiraling even when laying in my bed or eating or sleeping, knowing I could still afford rent for months because I arranged my life to allow myself to lay down a lot. I kept fearing my parents were coming to end my life, even when I arranged my entire existence specifically to prevent this from happening. And even if I was sick and without a real job, I had in fact, survived for 5 years after running away, I wasn't getting worse at it. My spiraling into death scenarios was a symptom of being trapped within a flashback.
The book guided me to try to challenge these fears, I immediately went for it, had a breakdown, screamed "I can't" for like an hour, had additional few breakdowns afterwards, and miraculously, recovered from them in only few hours. And then, I woke up from my flashback.
I won't describe what the flashback was, because it's too gruesome and horiffic, but it was in fact, bad enough to warrant every single bit of that pain I was experiencing, and a very convoluted, complex trauma. I was waiting to be killed in that flashback. Whats concerning is, I've been trapped in that same flashbacks for more than a year. After I broke my way out of it, it felt like I woke up to being alive for the first time in years. I got out being frozen in bed.
For 5 amazing days, I was able to do whatever I wanted. Chronic pain? I didn't know her. It was absoluely exhilirating to get to move again, I was not getting tired either, I was out there making up for months of doing nothing and I was not collapsing at any point. I felt actual joy again, and hope, and being free from pain was so extremely good, that alone made me ecstatic. I was able to create, to be organized, to take care of myself, to follow a checklist, to focus, I was a Normal Person for those 5 days.
And then, predictably, I was getting back stuck in that flashbacks and my levels of terror and dread spiked again. I went to re-read the book, and it took me a few days to really figure it out again, I don't know exactly how the book works on me, I feel like it says just the right keywords to trigger me into realizations and causes breakdowns that set me free. I found myself able to stop some spiraling, but sometimes I can't, that flashback holds immense power over me and is actually mixed with 10 other near-death scenarios that are too extreme for me to process, so this will keep happening. I did break free again, and got to experience additional few days of movement and happiness; I also started working extensively with my child alter, who was until recently extremely suicidal and dangerous to work with.
I am still kinda lost in all of this, and unsure whats going on, but I do believe I wont get trapped in a flashback again for a whole year. I became so anxious and helpless due to isolation, I forgot how to fight trauma, I forgot I actually had to do it. I used to do it constantly in the beginning, but it had made me suicidal back then to face all this, so I tried to just let it heal naturally, which I believed would eventually happen; but it didn't, I got trapped and suffered without knowing how to get out. I also believed my own spiraling was a reflection of reality and not trauma, and that fueled it a lot.
It explains very eloqently in the book how inner catastrophizing comes from being massively neglected; children who are not looked after start to realize just how unprotected they are, so their own sense of danger becomes hypersensitive and starts to lock on possible dangers everywhere. This is then further aided by media that points out every possible bad thing that could happen to a person, and the child who isn't guided by adult who could actually make a reasonable distinction between real and unlikely danger, will clock it all as absolute possibilities and be on alert. It's also fueled by the line of disasters and dangers that happen to them in the context of their own home, and for me, the strongest factor was my parents constantly convincing me that I would die without them. Even though I proved this wrong, and understand they did it precisely because they knew there was a lot of survival ability in me and that's why they worked so hard to destroy it, the fact that it was brainwashed into me under circumstances of torture still makes it impossible for me to fight it.
Maybe one day I will be able to.
I'm writing this because writing things down helps to make sense of it all, and I need to find my way thru this. I also hope someone else will see themselves in what I'm describing and it will help them find a way forward. Complex ptsd is the only book I found that speaks from the point of view of a person who survived cptsd, healed from it, and had so much experience with other traumatized people they're able to draw parallels and create patterns and statistics out if it, it was that more than anything that convinced me of their words, and gave me hope. The book also warns many times of how essential it is to reduce inner critic and catastrophizer before getting other recovery work done, other therapy might only do further harm before this work is done. It was true for me.
If you wanna read this book, here's a post with the links!
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Note
Sorry if this breaks rules or offends you, but I've seen this a lot and thought a comfort fic would be nice.
Tw biphobia
I was wondering if you could make a fic/HC post(whichever works), with one for male and female respectively, where the reader is bisexual and in a relationship with Edelgard and Hubert respectively and are told by both people in the LGBT+ community and out of it that they aren't "really LGBT+" because the relationship is straight, and the character comforts the reader because they're crying from the harrassment.
Sorry if this isn't allowed or is poorly written, I've just seen a lot of it and as a bi man myself it's kinda heartbreaking and I'm to afraid to write my own fic.
Regardless have a nice day.
It doesn’t break the rules or offend me at all, I’d be happy to write it! I’m sorry you’ve experienced so much biphobia, it’s upsettingly prevalent and I hope this can provide some comfort to that. TW: Mentions of biphobia under the cut
– – – – –
Edelgard von Hresvelg w/ Male S/o
You’ve always heard comments about how you should just pick a side
Which... You and those close to you know isn’t how it works
But there will always be people who make a point of acting like it is, like your sexuality is a choice and you’re somehow lying to the community for being bi
It’s not exactly enjoyable
Oftentimes you’ll just try and ignore it, let the comments roll of your back- your personal community supports you, that’s enough to keep you content
But sometimes people just become so... Venomous
People will try to claim the most horrible things about you, assuming the worst of intentions when you’re just trying to engage in your community and be honest about who you are
It can get unbearable sometimes
Edelgard had always been a bit rough towards people who made passing comments about it- she’s never been one to let injustice slide
But goddess, seeing you broken down on your floor after an especially rude group of passerby threw some words your way made her blood boil
She couldn’t tolerate it
None of the things they were saying about you were true, you were still bi and you were still just as attracted to other men as you were before you started dating a woman
It was... Infuriating to say the least
But she could handle those dastards later, a far more important priority on her mind was you
She looks at you, seeing how shrunken in and hurt you are, and her heart squeezes in her chest
She hates seeing you hurting
Edelgard crouches down beside you, a hand resting gently on your back
Her skills with verbal comfort aren’t particularly honed, but she doesn’t need to speak to provide you her support
You can feel in the way she holds you, pulling you close, the barely controlled anger
You can also feel the gentleness and love that’s keeping it controlled as she rubs your back
She struggles to find the right words to say, so she instead opts for a simple “I love you”
Your throat is too tight to reply, but she can tell you said it back
The two of you stayed like that for the remainder of the afternoon, long after your tears had stopped
It was nice, as simple as it was, to cuddle like that
It felt safe, it was comforting after such a difficult interaction
Of course, Edelgard found a way to take care of the people who’d made those comments
Hubert von Vestra w/ Fem S/o
Sometimes you really wished you could just convince yourself you were too sensitive
The things people said to you hurt so much so often
You just wished it was as easy to get over what they said as it seemed like it was for them to say it
You’ve been shoved out of your own communities over and over again for being “manipulative” just because you were bi
You couldn’t understand how being attracted to people was inherently manipulative, and those around you made it clear that it wasn’t to any reasonable person, but the way people talked to you still hurt so much
No matter how often you tried to ignore it, somehow comments would always get back to you about how negatively people viewed you because of your sexuality
It hurt to be rejected from the community you were supposed to be a part of
At least you had your small circle who knew better, like Hubert
Hubert... Was not one to tolerate the hateful comments thrown your way, more likely to try and silence those who hurl baseless insults and accusations, be it temporarily or permanently
He was, admittedly, a bit protective
But nothing he’d done to protect you before could match up to the white hot rage that filled his mind when he saw you crumpled up on your bed in tears
Oh, those monsters did not know what was coming to them
He, much like Edelgard, was not particularly comforting with his words
However the threats he made under his breath as he pulled you into his arms and cradled you against his chest gave the same effect that traditional comfort would
He held you gently, stroking your hair and rubbing circles into your hip
You could feel the slight shake to his hands and lips as he kissed your head
It was obvious how angry this had made him
“They will pay for this my dear, don’t worry.”
It wasn’t an ‘I love you’ in so many words, but it was his greatest expression of love and loyalty
He held you until you calmed down, releasing you from his arms when you seemed contented
He did not, however, leave your side for even a moment for the remainder of the day
He followed close behind you wherever you went, shooting his most terrifying gazes at those who seemed to be looking at you wrong
It was nice. Comforting- Hubert may not be one for long lasting physical affection, but his loyalty and protection were a stronger love language than any you’d encountered
The group who had hurt you in the first place were taken care of
He did not tell you the details, and you did not ask
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sassooda · 3 years
Text
Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 16 - Observer 🔞
w/c - 6,503
     Choso’s curiosity has been getting the best of him lately. He remains mindful in his duties but he can’t help but research in his spare time, knowing that the unknown is slowly eroding away at him.
           Yesterday, he had some updates about Itadori’s control over Sukuna, which he muddles in an attempt to pull Getou’s attention from him, so he made his way to Getou’s room to deliver the report. He heard crashing sounds and grunts but knew better than to simply open the door. As he leaned into it though, he began to hear the muffled cries of a woman, some sounding comparable to Elska’s but the rest resembling horror. To his dismay, he became intrigued and decided that he should take a peek using his observer’s technique.
           Choso quickly strolled his way back to his office and shuts the door behind him. He places his phone on his desk and sits down in the swiveling leather chair. He removes the tie from his hair in an attempt to relax. He hesitates for a moment, feeling a little dirty about his intentions for doing this but he really needs to know more. While still sitting, he turns his back to the door and draws an oval shaped design into the air. He closes his eyes and focuses on mapping the trail to Getou’s room, a much simpler task than transporting people. When he finishes, his eyes open and before him is now a real time vision of what was happening in there.
           He sees Getou mounting a curvy black-haired woman who’s bound up in chains but face down on her knees. Choso is confused because although it looks sort of like what Naoya was doing to Elska, Getou seems to be hurting the girl in front of him. She’s not crying but her expression definitely reads distress in contrast to his that has an engrained smile accompanied by laughter. He can’t see much from this approach but catches sight of Getou’s length as he begins to harshly administer repetitive full thrusts, ramming the woman into the floor. Her entire body jolts with each round which seems to excite Getou further as he taunts her “I knew you were a slut.” Choso was trying to take away as much as he could from this display but couldn’t help but feel Getou was doing it wrong…Naoya’s approach seemed a lot less, well selfish. He hears the woman grunt into a whine, “I didn’t say you could cum yet bitch.” Getou began striking the woman with her own chains and he decided that was enough…he didn’t care to see anymore. He remembers the shiver that crossed his body as he released the technique, forming even more contempt for the man he worked for.
           Today though he thought, ‘Maybe I should try her…’. It’s been a long one but he found himself with extra time since he didn’t need to be on medical standby, everyone was at the base. He sits down in his chair like before but less relaxed for he doesn’t know what he’s going to see… ‘hopefully nothing like yesterday’. He again traces the oval in the air before his eyes shut until he can once again navigate the distance and map the path. Once he’s completed this he opens his eyes quickly to the sounds leading from the window like projection.
           He sees Elska riding Gojo, although he wouldn’t know to use such vocabulary. His mouth drops at the full view, being thankful for whatever it was in that room that created the shadow he could infiltrate. It’s as if he’s sitting across from the couch, only mere feet away. Now he can see exactly how it’s done.
           His eyes are completely honed into how Gojo and her are connected, where and how she’s making him to move in and out of her. Their moans hitch his breath. He finds himself with that strange feeling, that overwhelming tingling that makes him grab himself through the cloth of his pants again. He notices that his own meaty extension is becoming firmer, throbbing in response to the naughty sights playing out before him. When she gets up, he frowns and sighs thinking that he must have caught the end of it but she soon sits back down on him, leaving Choso to see now her face and breasts.
           She’s definitely having a better time than Getou’s woman. Her expression is soft with furrowed brows and an open mouth. He finds it interesting that she seems so overwhelmed but is controlling the situation and doesn’t slow down. A high-pitched “Ahh!” leaves her as he watches Gojo’s smile widen. He’s doing something with one of his hands but Choso isn’t at the right angle to view it. Whatever it was, she seems to really like it.
           He leans back in his chair, hand on his crotch as he continues to watch them go at it. He puts some pressure into his palm and brushes down towards his knees, causing himself to vocally shudder. ‘This is strangely wonderful’. He’s watching the climaxes unfurl between the two, their cries making him grip himself now and he sees Gojo hold her down in place above him, pushing into her. He’s seen so much in his lifetime and wonders how he never discovered this before. ‘I wonder if my brothers knew?’ The show before him has come to end but he doesn’t release the technique so he can take in their bareness as he gathered that helped him feel good too. He’s reaching into his pants now, fondling himself in different ways, experimenting with what feels best. His hands are pretty big but now his grip has widened more than usual as he holds himself snuggly. He’s not even aware of his own moans as he mirrors the same motions along his shaft that would be experienced if he were with one of those girls. His body tenses up, causing the rest of him to become erect as well while he quickens his moving hold. There’s a small amount of liquid oozing out of the head. He runs his fingers along the tip, giving it a fluent ribbed like texture and his toes curl for a second. “Uhh..ah”. ‘Feels really fucking good.’
           He’s back to focusing on their interactions while stroking himself. Gojo is dressing her as she seems to be losing her usual collected state. He doesn’t find her as exciting in this situation covered but the little dress is still pretty revealing, appetizing in a way. He bits his bottom lip. He’s about to remove himself from his pants as they seem to have shrunk around his thighs and hips but then the door to his office swings open.
           “Cho-so I need you to sign off on the-…” Naoya’s voice is lost as his eyes meet Choso’s technique. His earlier good mood is decimated as he’s watching a naked Gojo embracing a barely dressed Elska. He’s immediately enraged at the fact that they’re holding each other and the implications of how their dress…or lack thereof… insinuates a situation of abhorrence for Naoya. “What does that blue-haired dick think he is doing?” He then sees Choso’s flushed face paired with open pants and still clothed erection.
           “What the FUCK is going on in here!?” Naoya’s deep voice booms through the room, hollowing Choso as he jumps to stand up. He braces himself as Naoya beelines for him, or so he thought. Naoya completely passes him though, in an attempt to jump through what he thinks is a portal, completely heated at the sight of Gojo swaying his woman in his arms.
           “Naoya NO! YOU CAN’T!” Choso grabs onto Naoya’s shoulder and uses his cursed energy to rip the large man away as fast as he could. Naoya flies backwards to the other side of the room but Choso knows it’s too late when he sees the ripple effect cascade outwards from where he assumes Naoya’s hand penetrated its surface. He can see Gojo looking around the room in a completely defensive state, hoping that he’s still left ignorant as to what just happened. He releases the window quickly after that.
           “That technique is only untraceable as long as what is observed remains undisturbed!” Choso catches himself actually raising his voice for the second time ever, which seems to throw Naoya by surprise too. “You could’ve ruined everything!” He’s trying to calm himself, “We lose a major advantage if they find out I can do this Naoya…”
           “I thought I made myself pretty clear you little perv, you’re not to touch yourself to her…what the fuck!?” Naoya is standing himself up, brushing the dirt from his arms and cracking his neck. He’s irritated by this ‘HIM TOO NOW?’ He doesn’t understand that Choso is simply inquisitive about the act and isn’t actually wanting to try and take Elska, he’s just paranoid after it seems everyone else does.
           “You actually said for me to not touch myself to the thoughts of you and her.” Choso corrects Naoya in a matter-of-fact manner, still collecting himself from the infusion of his groin and the seriousness of what almost happened. “Why didn’t you just call or even knock?”
           “Choso…she is spoken for...BY ME!” His eyes trail down to Choso’s pants. “Do you understand why this is wrong? If I see this again, I’ll tug it so hard it falls off…and I DID!” He points to Choso’s phone that’s lit up and displaying 4 missed calls. Naoya’s voice is still raised as he has yet to calm down himself. He felt like if he didn’t get to her right in that minute, or at least soon, he’d lose her forever. It was clear to him, her affections for Gojo and that made him insecure about his own for her. He never planned on caring for whoever his wife would end up being, marriage has always been about beneficial arrangements within the clans. He didn’t even care much for the idea when she was mentioned to him initially, years ago, ‘Just so long as she can produce strong heirs.’  Now however, he found the time and distance between them to be torturous, he knows she feels something for him too but isn’t able to sum up the totality of exactly how much that is. He knows he’s lucky to have such emotions for his intended and now feels the need to share them.
           The room remains soundless for a minute until Naoya sighs and looks to Choso. “Look, I’ll keep this our little secret if you do that for me so I can see her tomorrow...” He’s still pretty pissed off about everything he just saw…literally everything…but when he looks to Choso who is undoubtedly embarrassed, he can’t help but feel bad for the guy. ‘He’s new to that stuff.’ Naoya thinks of how she looked in that tiny little slip and shudders pleasurably before turning his attention back to his pitiful friend. Choso probably would have remained uncorrupted had Naoya only done his job that day when he caught them. He realizes this. “Just don’t do that to her ever again. You need to find someone else to peep on, Tom.”
Choso doesn’t understand the reference but nods his head in agreeance while looking down to the right…still too embarrassed to meet eyes with Naoya while on that subject.
Naoya sighs again and walks closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Look, it’s alright, all men have been through something similar at one point or another.” He tries to add encouragement to his voice because other than this, he’s grown really fond of him as they’ve grown closer. “It’s almost like a rite of passage.” He trudges up a smile, “You’re just a really, really late bloomer buddy.” He pats Choso’s shoulder and then turns to leave the room. He seems in a hurry all of the sudden. “I fucking mean it though, leave her OUT of it. I’ll know too if you don’t!” He smiles and pulls the door shut behind him, never even addressing properly which papers he needed signed. A faint, “I’ll be back in the morning” is heard as his footsteps fade.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
           Toji was confidently strolling the halls with a large paper bag in hand. ‘He won’t be able to resist this special edition.’ He woke up on the floor of his demolished apartment without wings luckily. He’s still over joyed about his new form, loving the power surging through him although he hasn’t summoned any cursed energy since the scuffle between him and Gojo. “Tch…Gojo…” he grumbles, “I am surely the better option now, she just needs the truth.”
           He arrives to Nanami’s office but finds that it’s empty. ‘Maybe I should have called. He better not be on a mission.’ He stands in front of the doorway speculating where the shaman could have been at this time of day. He walks further down into the hall aimlessly, really looking for anyone who would know of his whereabouts, Megumi even if he was lucky, until he begins to hear voices. He nears them, recognizing them as the distance disappears. “God damnit…” He says as he leans into the doorway to find Nanami, Gojo and Elska sitting around a conference table.
           He first looks to Elska who looks in much better condition than the night before. As he scans over her white tanktop and skin, he’s thankful initially to see that he didn’t leave her with any bruises but then gathers that meant she’s likely fed since. Gojo stands up immediately upon seeing Toji, slightly confused as to why he wasn’t able to sense him like before.
           Nanami sighs, “I swear if you two break anything, I’ll make sure it’s deducted from your pay Satoru…”
           Toji immediately punches a hole through the door, “HAA you heard him!”.
           “TOJI what the hell?” Nanami is standing now too, his hands having slammed down on the table.
           “Toji stop it!” Elska is still sitting but her expression is stern.
           Toji throws his head up, “I’m sorry Nanami…I couldn’t help myself.” He sighs, “I won’t do it again…”
           Elska looks satisfied by this but the other two men were shocked by how easily he listened to her. Toji shuffles to the side of the table closest to him and hands the bag to Nanami. “This is for helping me with my room.” Ending with a mischievous wink.
           “The fucks he talking about Nanami?” Gojo turned his entire head in a dramatic way to narrowly eye his blonde friend. He’s can’t believe Toji would have the balls to show his face again so soon after what happened. ‘And now there’s talk of a room?’ He turns to Elska now on his left, checking to see if she’s uncomfortable by his showing up but she isn’t. Her posture has actually straightened and her eyes have yet to leave him since he entered, which he doesn’t like.
           “I never said yes, Toji just doesn’t liste-…”
           “Fuck that, I’m moving in y’all. My place is toast now and I have no other choice.” Toji throws his hands up in comical defeat as he prepares to lay the gravy on them. “My son is here and so is my ma-…Elska…who is still in danger by the way.” He looks to Gojo now, both of their eyes narrow simultaneously as the scowls also form. Satoru rolls his shoulders back and intensifies his presence.
           “What happened at your place, Toji?” Elska’s voice in brimming with concern as she now finally stands, joining the others in the room. She lands her right hand on Satoru’s arm to display that she’s still very aware of his hesitation but is also asking him to hold off for a moment.
           “Doll, I’m so glad you asked…” A wide grin takes over Toji’s expression as his excitement builds. He wanted to show her rather than tell her but this is still going to be good. “It turns out that you gave me wingsSHAHHHHH” The cry that leaves him is thunderous and wild.
           Toji hunches over and grabs at his shoulders, “Aww FUCK not right now!” He’s struggling to the floor as he finally catches himself before falling over, being on his hands and knees now. Elska tries to run over to him but Satoru grabs her arm and pulls her back forcefully, not knowing what to expect. Toji’s muscles are dancing along his back as his skin begins to stretch from large bone protrusions. “Why does it hurt so bad!?” After what seems like forever, they finally rip through and the massive deep grey wings take shape around him. His tattered shirt falls forward, holding on by the waist. His wings were much thicker than Elska’s and used more body area where they conjoined from the spine outward. No one says anything at first, they just stand there as the gusts wave through them.
           “They’re…beautiful.” Elska gasps and reaches out for one of the stray feathers that was blown across the table as he’s tearing off the rest of his shirt. “They’re so big! Wow Toji!” She can’t help but feel excited at his time, finally seeing what others saw when they looked at her. His stature was large as it is but with the added mass of feathers, he almost seemed imperial…like some kind of winged royalty. Their eyes meet for a moment but the gaze between them seemed timeless. Her eyes begin to glow, fangs slowly forming. She mindlessly tries to walk towards him a second time, with him never leaving her sight. Satoru snatches at her again and yanks her backward which throws her back into reality.
           “Have you forgotten what he’s done to us? To YOU?” Satoru’s words are harsh, stinging as she recollects exactly what he’s referring to. ‘Why am I like this… He’s right.’ “I’m sorry.” Is all she manages in response.
           “No. I don’t think so Gojo…you’ve got this all twisted.” Toji’s voice is lowered, he seems like he may even growl. He steps a little closer, wings twitching randomly as he does. “Elska… he kidnapped you from your world, held you prisoner, abused you…” He sees Nanami’s eyes widen as he tears off the cap of the bottle and just chugs from it. “And then he had your memories erased.”
           Satoru hasn’t moved but his grip on her arm has become unbearable as she tries to pull it away from him. He releases her instantly not being conscious of his actions. “My love…please, don’t listen to him…” His eyes remain on Toji, evolving into a menacing state. Satoru is actually the one to growl, “It’s not that simple.”
           “Great! Now that’s out in the open…” Nanami is only now putting down the bottle, already showing signs of intoxication. Everyone turns to him to address the random interruption as he pulls the bottle out of the paper bag and slides it to Elska. “I can’t fucking believe you two right now…she deserves the next go.”
           Elska receives the bottle, catching it with both hands along its path. The atmosphere is so incredibly tense and weird as she tries to take in Toji’s words. “That would explain a lot actually…” Hands shaking, she swigs the bottle herself, coughing slightly afterwards to her first try of Jameson. It probably looks as if she didn’t enjoy the taste but she repeats the same action twice more, drinking more in each time. She’s sure that information was shocking but can’t bring herself to negatively emotionally react. ‘It’s almost not surprising though and that would explain that flavor.’ “Jesus you guys…what the FUCK?” She rarely swears but felt this was as good a time as any…still kind of dazed as she pieces things together from her own perspective.
           Satoru is still frozen solid as he fails to understand her reaction once again. He’s finding that even after all of this time, she’s still so unpredictable. ‘How did she just take that kind of information in stride?’ She doesn’t seem to discredit it, in fact she seems to be coming to terms with it. ‘Is this it, is she going to leave me?’ He’s staring off in space, retreating into his mind, when he feels her nudge him with the bottle. He looks down to her as she looks straight ahead, unwilling to meet his eyes at the time. He slowly takes the bottle in disbelief and quickly guzzles some like his life depends on it. ‘Is she just having a delayed reaction? This is fucking creepy.’
           Toji is waiting for shit to hit the fan too. As he listens to Gojo chasing a buzz, his eyes meet Elska’s and he’s not sure what she’s feeling, she’s not giving anything away. He was expecting her to completely freak out and maybe even attack Gojo herself, hoping so anyways. She looks up to him again for a moment and he can sense her gears turning. “Are you alright, doll?”
           Gojo slams down the bottle, surprisingly not shattering it. “Stop with the fucking pet names before I rip your fucking mouth off.”
           “I will be once Sati hands you the bottle.” She giggles a little as the sudden introduction of alcohol begins to affect her as well. “Sati, don’t be such a dick…I mean, seriously…like you’ve room to talk right now.”
           He thinks to be offended for a second but can’t help but still remain on edge by her demeanor. She hardly speaks to him that way and he’s completely unsettled by her composure. ‘She’s still calling me Sati…’ He shrinks down as the pressure seems too great, he’s wondering if he would’ve preferred her to lose her shit. She finally looks back at him and she even smiles. ‘Why?’
           “Elska…” his voice is so unsure of itself as her name leaves his lips.
           “Pass Toji the bottle.” She sees Satoru’s reluctance as he’s picking up on the symbology of the situation. “You’ve both said your piece now stop being a child and just do it.” She looks to Toji now who is extending out a hand, smugly ready to accept the forced gesture. “Toji, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is…” To this he huffs and removes the arrogance from his expression.
           Nanami stands up, laughing, “Grown men…” and shakes his head as he announces he’ll be right back. Everyone watches him leave until Satoru finally slides the bottle across from him, towards Toji. “Take it, cunt.”
           “SATI.”
Toji and Gojo’s eyes are locked, even while Toji drinks. After the first sip he lets out, “HAHH…yea, this definitely was needed today.” Before tilting it upwards for more. His wings flutter as he takes in the beverage, causing Elska and Gojo’s attention to remain on him.
           “I need that again before I say my bit…” Elska now waves to the bottle in Toji’s hand which he leans over slowly to hand it to her, unnerved by what exactly it’ll consist of.
           She guzzles some this time and Satoru twitches in response, probably wanting her to slow down considering she was such a lightweight. When she sets it down, it’s with purpose. “Listen you two…” She sighs deeply, “I am not oblivious, I was simply missing pieces of the puzzle. Sati, my dream last night…I believe it was a memory of the first time I gave myself to you.” She notices Toji shift his stance, being out of the loop. “You’ve always had this taste about you, I’ve sensed that side of you this entire time. The nightmares, I’m accepting now that they may potentially all be memories…which means I know far more than you think I do.” Both men remain silent, unsure of where this is heading. Satoru’s face looks like he’s in pain, genuine agony as she progresses, turning towards him, “You’ve done some really horrible things my dear, to me and others as well… I can’t argue that.” She places her left hand into his cheek as he buries his face into it reflexively. “And as sick as it is, I almost understand. If I remember correctly then I think I’ve said this before although it’s even more so true now.” His eyes anxiously meet hers, “You were raised to believe that love was not in your nature but Sati, you are no monster.” He inhales sharply to this, almost as if he’d been holding his breath the entire day. His eyes close as his face reddens from emotion, “You didn’t know how to express your feelings properly then but you do now.” He brings his hands up to her one on his face and gently holds it as a single tear rolls down his other cheek. “If you never took me, I wouldn’t be here with everyone from this world today…I’m happy here.”
He responds in a whisper that leaves a timid smile as he recalls that wonderful night, and soaks up her current words, “This must be love.” To which she half laughs, half cries as her own tears are beginning to form as well. “Elska…” He decides to finally embrace her, “My Elska…”
           Nanami enters the room again, “I knew I had another one somewhere! With the content being spewed, I just knew that one wouldn’t be enough.” He sets the second bottle down and opens it, uncaring that the first is unfinished. “I care about all of you, yes even you Toji…but this is the most dysfunctional shit I’ve ever heard of in my life.” He laughs wearily as he swigs from the new bottle.
           Toji turns the chair in front of him around leaving the support in front of him as he sits at the table, feeling defeated. ‘How in the fuck did that just go down like that. All of that work, lying, sneaking around, scheming…and for what? She still loves him anyway?!’ He reaches for the first bottle and gulps a decent amount down. “What the fuck man…”
           She turns to Toji now, placing her hand on top of the one teetering the bottle on the table. “You Toji, you’re not innocent either…you need to stop trying to manipulate us.” He scoffs to this, removing his hand and the bottle from under hers to drink again. “Toji…” The hurt is evident in her tone.
           “Look doll, since I’m taking this harder than you are let me just have a minute.” He softens his voice to her, “This isn’t what I expected to be honest.” He watches her drink from the second bottle that Nanami handed to her. A smile forming on her face as she wipes away the liquid that spilled from her lips. She’s wearing black sweatpants too but the snug little white tank top, now has little dribbled murky spots from the spillage. He’s feels it minutely but his wings flutter again while he observes her.
           “Toji, you’re still very special to me and you should understand that thoroughly.” She sees him darting eyes over to Satoru after she spoke to which a grin formed indicating that Satoru probably didn’t like that. “We are bonded now; our relationship is also very unique.” She now sits down, feeling tipsy and warm. “I can’t believe it’s finally out there.” Her relief is clear as she leans back and stretches. “It really all makes so much more sense now.” Her composed demeanor instantaneously relaxes everyone in the room, it becoming evident that her ability to be understanding and empathetic had been greatly underestimated.
           Nanami leans over where he sits, “Shame on these men, Elska. Imagine if you had a quiet guy like myself.” He laughs to his own words as he waits for the rebuttal.
           “Not uhh Nanamin you’re a scoundrel too! I caught you staring at her ‘little lady’ last night.” Satoru laughs loudly as he knows he’s just struck a nerve. “You’re face right now!” He’s lost in snickers as his tension fades.
           Toji and Elska stiffen to these words. Toji angrily snaps his head to Nanami not understanding why that would even transpire, “WHAT?” He stands and his wings begin to flail.
           “Toji you have to calm down! I’m sure it’s a joke!” She glares at Satoru for stirring things up again, “Why would you say that?” She shoves his shoulder and hoping that small bit odd normalcy they were experiencing wasn’t just ruined.
           “I’m kidding, we all know our Nanamin wouldn’t do such a thing!” He turns to his now statuesque friend with an evil grin, hinting that he’ll blow the shit out of proportion if he needs to, he has the power to throw him under the bus. Nanami loosens his tie while he awkwardly chuckles and finally begins relaxing again, fully comprehending what Satoru’s eyes were saying.
           “Alright boys…I’m in desperate need of a shower” She stumbles a bit once standing and remembers that she’s still technically wearing both men, “Ok maybe a bath then.” All four chuckle as she straightens herself and makes her way to the door. I’ll come back when I’m done if you’re still gathered here.” And she waves as the room falls quiet to her absence.
           Satoru and Toji both take a swig at the same time which causes Nanami to laugh. “You know, you two aren’t so different from each other if you really think about it.” This statement wasn’t met well though and they refused to look at each other.
           “Difference is, this fuck always wins.” Toji rolls his eyes as he sits again, placing an elbow down on the table to rest his head in hand. He’s facing Nanami, allowing his hand to block his view of Gojo.
           “I really do I guess… I still don’t feel like it though.” He sighs as the outcome is still blowing his mind. His little Elska is really something else. He’s twirling the ends of his hair as he thinks about how much time he spent in fear of this exact predicament. He was so sure she would be mortified…and rightfully so. “You still get to feed from her though so it can’t be called a true victory…fucker.”
           “Are you seriously telling me that even after all of this, you two are STILL making it about yourselves?” Nanami completely removes his glasses now as he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Neither of you really gave her a choice to begin with so why is it so important that she chooses now? What, like you value that or something suddenly?” His tone is still friendly but he’s getting agitated at how they could fail to get along or even understand.
           “What are we supposed to do, fucking share her?” Toji spits instantly, empty chuckles leaving his mouth as his nerves are being worked again.
Gojo shifts his weight in his chair and crosses his legs.
           Nanami brings his hands together in an intense moment of deliberation. “I mean, yea…maybe.”
           Toji postures himself upright immediately, “She’s not a fucking toy.” He looks to Gojo out of curiosity as the man chugs some more from the second bottle, surprised to not hear more protests from him as well. He looks like he’s thinking now too.
           “If it weren’t for Naoya then I wouldn’t even be considering this.” Gojo is smiling wide, feeling a little drunk now. “I wonder how he’s doing...”
           “What do you mean by that?” Toji is quick to want to understand the implications of that sentence. One of his eyebrows are raised as he gives Gojo his full attention.
           “Well… when I was sealed, Naoya brought her to me. He was putting her…in a tough position and one thing led to another. It was a really bizarre occurrence but long story short, that was almost a threesome.” He pauses a moment as if he’s reflecting, “Had I been able to move? It would’ve definitely been a threesome.”
           “He fucked Elska?” Toji’s voice is matched with the same surprise as his expression. Naoya has been officially underestimated as well.
           “Right in front of me.” He takes another drink as he greedily relishes in the memory. His mannerisms were so casual that it didn’t seem to sit right with the others listening. “She was partially in my lap for the majority of it, I just couldn’t move.”
           “What? Satoru, are you serious? And he’s still alive?!” Nanami is flabbergasted by the calmness as the words left his possessive friend’s mouth. ‘I did not need to know all of this.’
           “Well…” He laughs to himself as he makes eye contact, shifting between the two, “Of course initially I was ready to disembowel the fucker but as it progressed, I just realized that I was into it!” He shrugs his shoulders as he relives the situation some more, a deep sigh existing his lips.
           “I’m going to kill that little shit…” Toji drinks again, “He wants to make her a fucking Zenin, Gojo, surely you know this. What do you think the boy is cute or something?”
           “Of course I’m aware but I’m not going to let that happen. Also, I’m not attracted to Naoya…I just like how he makes her feel.” He shivers now to his own words. “Woah, that sounded weird to actually say.”
Nanami is genuinely curious about all of this now. He removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves to reduce his alcohol sweats. He never would’ve imagined Satoru being open to this considering he’s one of the few people that was familiar with the devil inside of him and how Elska existence made him behave. He would always keep an eye on her from afar just in case Gojo ever relapsed into old, terrible habits. He never has but upon seeing how incoherent and roughed up she was last night, he did fear for a second there. “Could you see the same possibilities with Toji?”
           Gojo looks over Toji fully, from wing to toe. He’s acting like he’s sizing him up for the first time all over again. He wants to say no but in his current state of mind he can’t help but admit that he’s a little interested. He could argue that it wouldn’t be right due to Toji’s feelings for her, understanding that it could be threatening…but he knows Naoya falls under this exact category as well. “It wouldn’t work, Toji would have to cut off his own dick.”
           “What?” Toji and Nanami question at the same time. They look baffled at what may be assumed as an outlandish ultimatum.
           “Don’t you remember Toji, that day… the day you fucking tricked me into a misery? You said you would rather chop off your own dick than ever lay eyes on my mine.” He now hoots at how seriously they took him a few seconds ago as he was really just being a shit. He’s surprised when Toji actually cackles to his joke, unable to fight off that stupid infectious laugh. Nanami’s humor doesn’t seem to mesh well with mention of a dick lost however.
           “Would you be able to stay in your fucking lane if I said yes?” Gojo is all seriousness now as he questions Toji, implying that he is really thinking about it.
           “I don’t know exactly how I would do that but are you really considering this? What if she doesn’t even want to?” Toji’s failing to hide his excitement. Sure, he didn’t want to share if he could help it but he also recalls a time where he wasn’t so against the idea. “Holy shit, I have an experience like that with Zenin too now that you mention it.” Gojo and Nanami are both all ears, Gojo’s face being a little more serious as this will be news to him. “Well…uhh…it was after I fed her for the first time…” His voice trailed off wondering if he should’ve kept his mouth shut but Gojo doesn’t look like he’s going to swing, yet. “We didn’t know Naoya was there but it turns out he came for his men, who Elska fantastically handled. There was blood everywhere and the sheer amount of gore…so fucking impressive.” He realizes he’s getting off track as Nanami ducks his head back in confusion. “She released her pheromones and the little shit lunged out of nowhere not having been affected before.” To this the three of them laugh as they can all recall their first time exposed to the scent. Their bellows chimed in unison as the cordial air surrounds them. “He’d never met her before and couldn’t understand why he wanted her to keep biting him. He squirmed so bad at first. She stole a chunk of his nuts that day I swear.” He laughing but then lets out a sigh, “But I didn’t want to hurt her and I wasn’t in the right mind to fight him…so I watched until I knew I was losing control…then I left. He wasn’t going get too far, she was taking advantage of his not knowing and got away shortly afterwards.”
           Gojo seems amazed by that last part. ‘I didn’t want to hurt her…I left.’ He turns to Toji sincerely, “You really fought the urges?” Feeling slightly less of man when he considers how he never could…there was no way he could resist her like that. ‘So Naoya was lying about their encounter...’ he was beginning to believe it after he saw how Elska was affected by him, being grateful for some clarity.
           “I’m a big guy Gojo, I really didn’t want to hurt her.” Gojo perks up slightly to this inference. Toji thinks he even liked the sound of it. “If I’d gotten ahold of her again, I’m not saying that would’ve gone well though.”
           Nanami is just watching everything unfold as he continues to drink. ‘To think after all of this time it finally comes out and it’s so anticlimactic. They’re holding a conversation now…and the subject matter at that…wow.’ “So Satoru, what do you say? Are you willing to give it a shot?”        
           “You’re not touching her with your wings out so you’ll need to figure that out first.” He’s been nothing but astonished today, “If she can accept me the way that I am, I feel I have to try to accept you I guess…” He folds his arms in a playful pout while looking to Toji out of the corners of his eyes. “No promises that this is a happy ending though.” He tries to hold his face but the alcohol mixed with his immaturity pulls out laughter instead.
           “We’re really getting through the issues today. I never would have thought it’d be this easy.” Nanami holds up his bottle as to toast before passing it to Toji.
           “I’m…I’m not even sure what to say but I know what to do!” Toji holds up the bottle to repeat Nanami’s action and smiles to him. He feels the blunt clinking of thick glass as Gojo has raised the bottle in his hand to meet Toji’s. He’s so surprised that he isn’t even able to hide it from his face.
           “This should be interesting.” A wicked sneer takes over Gojo’s expression as the three men have finally come to an agreement.
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nighttimepixels · 3 years
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TALK TO US ABOUT MASS EFFECT I HAVE BEEN AN INSANE MASS EFFECT/SHAKARIAN TRASH PERSON SINCE 20-FUCKING-11 AND LEMME TELL YOU THOSE FEELINGS HAVENOT TARNISHED A SINGLE FRACTION IN THOSE TEN YEARS OH MY GOOOOOOODDDSSSS!!!!!!!
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I DEMAND A PLAY-BY-PLAY UP TO THE MINUTE OF YOUR REACTIONS TO EVERYTHING!!!!
you are so valid and I totally see why everyone I've ever mentioned it to loves the hell out of it
aksdjlsdfj I meannnn if you want to hear my rambling about it then hell yeah
Okay, gonna put this below the cut to save everyone else XD also- since I'm not leaving this Mass Effect obsession anytime soon, if you're not interested in seeing occasional posts about it, please feel free to block the tag "night plays ME"~
(mild spoilers ahead??)
((also for real I mean it when I say this is rambling as hell lol, apologies and no stress if absolute no one reads all this))
OKAY SO Mass Effect 1-
Stars help me, I was honestly hooked right from the start?? Like even in Legendary Edition (the combined trilogy just re-released in one "can play it on one system + minor improvements", for anyone who doesn't know) where it's smoothed out, of course it's obvious that ME1 is a decade old... but the foundation for these relationships are all there and gods I love them already.
Like - Kaiden right off the top is a delightful good fightin lad, what the hell. I've heard that he's viewed as 'bland' by a good portion of the fan community but I dunno, he's a delight and even more complex by the time 2 rolls around and you encounter him on Horizon, it was honestly Ashley I was way more meh about - mostly because before you can learn about her family history/etc, she comes off as hella xenophobic and I was immediately offended for my growing space family that she didn't like/trust all the aliens around, pfff.
(she gets redeemed a bit through further actions/evolving thoughts, but I thought in retrospect it was a bummer that they didn't flip the order there, give her a chance to be liked before the complicating factor of being so rude about aliens >:c that then she could grow from... ah well. Apparently she has a good arc but uh, let's just say I chose Kaiden at the "key junction" in the latter part of the game so I won't be seeing anymore of Ashley uh... anytime soon, haha.)
Garrus??? Is??????? The ABSOLUTE best???????????
I liked him from the start, I'm always a bit of a sucker for a rogue-detective "the system won't bring this bastard to justice, so I've got to" type and all their moral shadiness XD But he just gets better, honestly, and where I'm at in ME2 (right before the Reaper IFF mission, as of typing this, with everyone's loyalty!) I am only digging myself deeper into this hole-
-*wheezing* okay anyways -
Wrex is AMAZING I love fightin' middle-aged krogan bastard, gods. Liara is great too, I'm a sucker for a wlw relationship (playing fem!Shepard, so) - buuuut I'll admit she's a bit more one-note in ME1. Last week while I was still on ME1 I remember hearing (while trying to dodge spoilers) that her arc is really good, though. I think they leaned a little hard on the 'innocent but sexy' sterteotype on her (so despite the yikes aspect of a few of the things I've learned in ME2, lol, I actually really like the complexity that's been added to her character.)
Saved Liara first, so by the time I got to Noveria and had the standoff with Benezia there was the chance to have emotions over Liara having to face her TwT and of course, I made the questionable but quality decision to free Queen Rachni heheh. no ragrets
More than a blow-by-blow of my choices though I totally wanna take the chance to say that even in the mild jankiness of ME1 (goddammit, the Mako.... please..... please just go up this impossible cliff I just want to resource hunt-) the way that the lore, both obvious/key to main plot and the lesser/filler/background/world-building kinds... I just love it. It incorporates it well, you can go ham in the codex learning more, or just dive into the basics - it's clearly a complex galaxy (and they do an even better job in 2 of fleshing it out further), and it never really felt overwhelming. It was pretty natural figuring it all out-!
Plus the interesting implications of resource hunting amongst the sapient races, and the little side missions you better bet I did every one of- there's so much rich depth in the story if you do 'em!! (And that lead with that Keeper side mission...? Looking back, damn, clever foreshadowing-!!!)
And oh my gods, Ilios??? hell yeah. I loved that mission so much, especially having Garrus & Kaiden with me when talking to the hologram/computer, and more than anything, that last sprint in the Mako trying to get to the jump before it closed-???
yeet the boi-
Also mannn I love a good setpiece, and having to go up the side of the elevator, space-side?? such a cool setup!!
Plus it felt good having been Paragon enough (as simple as the good v bad vibe system is, I don't hate it, lol) to avoid one of the Saren fights, ngl. And the er, "second fight" with Sovereign-Saren.... hell yeah
... I'll admit I had to double check my choice re whether to save the Council. I did in the end, but I swear, sometimes the way they phrase things I'm like ".... okay but Garrus is right, defeating Sovereign is more important than these few leaders??????" woops. Listen, priorities, is all I'm saying..... ( ̄ヮ ̄|||)ゞ
'Course later they emphasize (in ME2) that there were 10,000 people on that same ship and I was like well I wouldn't have second guessed if I'd known that, I mean c'mon-
Also I did indeed romance Liara in this one, so I got that scene ;Dc But,,,, I also knew by the end that I was totally gonna romance Garrus in 2 since he's an option then finally,,,,, lemme tell you the guilt as I waffled over whether to romance Liara bc of it. hahaha.
Aaaaand Mass Effect 2-
So I'm only up to right before the Reaper IFF Mission, so I don't know the ending, etc etc lol. That said, I've just finished every side mission I've found with the exception of the Shadowbroker Quest and the Arrival Quest (I've heard the latter basically leads into ME3, and the former is best either right before the Omega 4 jump or in postgame).
So from the start - fuck yeah fuck yeah what a high adrenaline start Shepard noooooo but also yes save Joker aH-
The motion comic too hot damn nice job
I loved this setup, seriously - especially forcing Shep into this situation, having to work with/for Cerberus, and the compelling reasoning given behind "why" they do what they do (I especially found it a good point that the Salarians have the Task Force, the Asaris the Commandos, the Turians the- etc... like, true, when you put it like that, having a similar group advancing human interests/solving human interstellar problems is pretty reasonable...). That said, I love too that it really isn't shied away from how Cerberus is nonetheless fucked up - or its at least done fucked up stuff.
Listen, I still think some messed up stuff is gonna be revealed in 2's endgame......... after that Horizon mission and the Collector's ship???? TIM I SEE YOU YOU SHADY MF-
aaanyways lol...
I'm so so glad on a gameplay level they nixed the Mako style exploration. A few Hammerhead missions are fine and a lot more focused than the slippery ass navigation in that glorified ATV, pfff. The probes are a neat way of getting after similar resources - and more importantly, having good levels and some good hubs (the Zakera Wards, Omega, Ilium, etc) is way way more fun than having a more 'sprawling' space that is.... a lot of empty nonsense, lol.
Then there's the fact that we get Joker right off the bat and you can interact with him so much - and him and EDI??? Get out gods I love them. Kasumi is so right when she says they sound like a bickering old married couple lol. I have a terrible feeling that some shit is gonna happen with EDI..... but I don't think she's evil as-is, at least.
Side-eying the hell out of those "access forbidden" parts of her that she doesn't even know.... and the fact that her AI core has a locked door access................... something's gonna happen gdi LEAVE OUR ADOPTED AI ALONE.
(Also Joker pls stop fracturing your thumb on the mute button)
Also please save me there are so many hot aliens in this game,,,,, the xeno/monsterfuckers really comin' through strong in the sequels............... doin' the lord's work........................................
In general, I love how many levels ME stepped up in two with complexity and interwoven narratives!! Like, to the point it'd be almost a drag to replay ME1, even though it was fun going through it (if occasionally a bit tedious with the cookie cutter rando planet science/mine facilities, lol). Like, just from how fun and interesting ME2 is, mostly! more of all the pre-introduced races, plus new ones, plus more filling in of intragalactic politics, and more interesting implications of all these space-faring races mixing....
Also gods WREX and his planet holy shit,,,,, fuckin' hell yeah my man get their shit together and also adopt Grunt yes good-
And Mordin??? My singing semi-evil scientist best friend forced to confront his choices more than he thought he ever would have???? With some of the best ongoing general report chatter of all the companions??
(when I tell you I choked on my coffee when I talked to him after confirming romance choice w/ Garrus and that 'pamphlet' and 'anaphalactic shot if ingesting-' kajsldkfjsldfjk)
Like, fuck, the fact that they actually dive into the mixed morality and horrors of the genophage, and you can confront Mordin on it, for good reason, yet he still stands his ground, until finally some bits of his loyalty mission seem to... affect him, and I'm guessing might set up things for 3 with him? Unsure, but either way, damn, the fact that they start to dig into it...
And Taliiiii my beloved forbidden alien wife TwT her loyalty mission was SO GOOD. I love how varied they all are?? Getting to defend her and discover what she'd unwittingly been a part of-!!
Zaeed is a bastard but tbh I love that he is and that he's unapologetic in him - and Kasumi omg, best thief. A heist?? Gods, yes- I love our couch lounge chats XD
Samara is..... illegally.......... she's an illegally powerful and beautiful and eloquent MILF...........................
(.... listen I'm sapphic as hell and I'm kicking my own ass for picking her up last aksjdlfksjdfl - but her loyalty mission, damn. And seeing how there's this interesting cultural subset, and the struggle with the Asari in that they unquestioningly accept/respect justicars, but also know that the impact outside their culture is a diplomacy nightmare waiting to happen-)
,.,,,,,T,,, Thane,,,,,
I am weak for morally implicated murder dads okay?? And that voice??? His mannerisms?????? How you first see him, and that prayer after assassinating her...???????? And his history/his people's history with the hanar, gods I love how messy it is, it feels so much more real!
Also Jack is a mess and I love her (and want to get her some therapy, omg), and her and Miranda nearly duking it out after you've done both their loyalty missions??? so good and makes a lot of sense-! Honestly I would love more interactions between teammates on the ship, but there's already so much the devs had to balance I can't blame 'em for minimizing, heh. But suffice to say I also love Miranda and Jacob, even if I'm softest for my alien crew XD Hell yeah Jacob, we'll get loud and spill drinks on the citadel indeed TwT
.... I could write a whole essay on how much I love Garrus oTL Perhaps because he and Tali are the throughlines from 1 on your 2 crew, I have some of the strongest feelings about them... but genuinely, he was one of my favorite companions in the first game, and how you find him as Archangel in two? Getting to help him fight his way out after he's gone nearly 48 hours straight fighting off three gangs alone, jfc. His vengeance quest and what can happen there.... That line? fuck me, that line -
It's so much easier to see the world in black and white. Grey? I don't know what to do with gray...
How DARE you come for my heart like this, devs holy shit
(also, some other choice faves so far from the series from him include We can disobey suicidal orders?? and This wasn't in my training manual... [in 1, if you have him with you @ th Thorian fight] and his whole.... pop the heat sink - in his romance ;Dc)
asdasdfksadjfkl like I said I can write an essay on him PFFF suffice to say I'm very looking forward to his romance scene and where things go in 3
But yeah gods I'm just gonna keep rambling if I'm not careful lol. Gods I don't even know what to talk about it's all so good and while I can understand people roasting the obviousness of Paragon V Renegade (v neutral) choices/alignments, I think they do a pretty damn good job in 2 of pushing it further - to the point that there were some times that I accidentally got renegade points and I wasn't that mad, haha. There's so much fun in the interactions that I just have a good time anyways~
I have so many thoughts about TIM (The Illusive Man) and Cerberus.... theories evolving galore............... and like, what the hell!! Omega 4 going to the center of the galaxy is such a cool twist, goddamn - though my heart still breaks at losing Kaiden (his line if you haven't romanced him?? about feeling like he lost a limb when he lost you??? holy shit.... but I also can't blame him for not trusting Cerberus to the point of it affecting his ability to trust Shepard... like fuck Shep go after himmmm) I'm really excited to see where that goes since he comes back in 3, and what the fuck happens with Cerberus bc while I love the fact that obviously there are a lot of people in it for the right reasons, doing good work, there are those that are doing the opposite, and I have a very bad feeling about where TIM will end up landing....
All that said though I need to do the Reaper IFF mission (where I'm lightly spoiled as to getting That Boy, but not how/what happens to make it so - just that it's apparently wise to have all your side missions done before getting him...) and the actual Omega 4 jump. So we'll see what happens and what I think about it from there heheh!
.... major kudos and genuine props if you made it here to the end, I am so sorry for not editing on condensing all this, and appreciate you so much ;w;
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karlajoyner · 4 years
Note
first of all: i absolute LOVE your write
also....can you write an enemies to lovers smut with reggie or jeremy (what you feel more comfortable with), and if you have a taglist for jatp could you add me?
(english isn't my first language, sorry if there's something wrong!)
Why Wait? (Jeremy Shada x Reader)
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A/N: So I got two requests a Jeremy one and a Reggie or Jeremy enemy to lover one so I put them in one. I have a enemy to lover one coming out about Charlie. It’s a smut and gets well aggressive so make sure not to read it if it makes you uncomfortable! It was as well per someone's request so I hope you guys enjoy!
Requested by: @epikskool (Tumblr)
@agotzmann (Wattpad)
Warnings: None
(P.S I do not do smut for Jeremy, Madison, Jadah, Booboo, and or Sacha! Only for their characters!)
————
I sighed getting out my car unprepared for tonight's events. My best friend Savannah invited me to a game night with some of her co-stars from her new show on Netflix. They were nice people I visited on set a couple times when they were shooting in LA and got along pretty well with most of them. Well all except one. Jeremy. Jeremy Shada.
Flashback
I frustratedly walked towards Savannah's set beyond pissed. I was visiting my best friend on set today when I anonymously received photos from an unknown number. After 2 hours of sitting in her trailer I had just confirmed that my now ex boyfriend had been cheating on me and to make it worse it was with someone who I though was my friend. I finally reached the location she was filming at watching as she spoke to the director who was probably giving her instruction. She threw a glance at me realization hitting her what we had suspected since I got the pictures was true. I stood back as she said something to the director before making her way towards me.
"Did you talk to him?" She asked.
"Yeah. He admitted it to me. He straight up told me he cheated on me" I said on the verge of tears.
"He's such an asshole" She whispered pulling me into a hug.
“I know. I just don't know what I'm gonna do Savannah. I live with the man for fucks sake" I sobbed pulling away.
"Well for starters your moving in with me"
"I can't do that Sav, our lease isn't up for another 2 months"
"Your not staying with that jerk for 2 months y/n. Over my dead body am I gonna let my best friend stay in the same apartment with such a pig" She said getting ticked off. I sighed knowing there was no point in trying to argue right now when I was filled with too many emotions to count. I simply nodded fidgeting with my fingers.
"Go wait for me in my trailer. I almost done with this scene then I'm done for the day. After that we can go pick up some clothes then head over to mine for a breakup ritual"
"You really think that'll fix this?" I asked letting another tear slip out.
"No but it'll sure help. We'll order takeout, paint our nails, and have a high school musical marathon"
"Your just saying that because you can't wait to drool over Zac”
"Well yeah but your gonna be doing the same"
"Fair enough" I said smiling at the girl.
"See you in a bit k?"
"Okay" I smiled walking away.
I was walking back the route I came from when I received a message.
"You know we don't have to stop it here if don't want to😏" I read aloud making anger boil in me. He's such a fucking Asshole.
I groaned in frustration suddenly feeling myself collide with something hard.
“What the fuck!?" I cried holding my forehead. I looked up realizing I had just collided with an opening door.
"Oh my god are you okay?"
"Do I look okay? Are you fucking serious?"
"Look I'm sorry but you don't have to be such a dick about it" The person spoke. I finally looked up seeing a guy around my age who looked awfully familiar but I couldn't place my finger on it.
"I'm the dick? You hit me with a fucking door"
"Look I said I'm sorry" He said sticking out a hand to help me up. I was so fed up with men today. I scoffed standing up on my own.
"I don't need your help. Just watch where your going next time"
"It's not my fault. I didn't know anyone was gonna be passing by"
"So it's my fault I just got knocked to the ground by an opening door?" I shouted holding the part of my head that was now throbbing.
"W-well n-"
"You know what save it! I'm tired of men today I'm tired of everyone" I said passing by the dark haired guy bumping his shoulder in anger. That guy ended up being Jeremy Shada. Savannah's cast mate. And now my worst enemy.
“I brought lasagna” I announced to the group of people who were in the living room. Specifically Charlie, Savannah, Sacha, Owen, Jadah, Tori of course, and unfortunately enough Jeremy.
“Yes!” Sacha shouted with excitement. I giggled putting down the dish in the kitchen going over to greet everyone.
“Hey Charles!”
“How you doin?” He smirked making me laugh.
“I’m doin good baby. How you doin?” I played along. Recreated one of my favorite scenes from friends.
“This is why I love you! You get me!” He shouted pulling me in for a hug.
“Hey Owen. Sacha” I greeted the two boys with a hug.
“Y/n! We missed you the last couple weeks on set”
“Owen you were shooting in Vancouver”
“I know we just really missed you. Savannah was no fun”
“I was fun!” The girl shouted form the kitchen.
“What he means is we missed our biggest cheerleader” Tori corrected.
“I am great aren’t I?” I jokingly flipped my hair on my shoulder earning laughs from around the room.
“I beg to differ” Jeremy’s voice spoke making me roll my eyes.
“Seriously? I just got here and your gonna start?” I asked looking at him.
“Hey! Guys! It’s game night let’s chill out tonight” Charlie tried to reason shuffling the uno cards in his hand.
It wasn’t the first time he or any of the other cast tried to talk me and Jeremy down but sometimes his side comments got to me so much that I’d burst. God I hated his luscious dark hair. And his snarky little smirk. And his beautiful brown eyes. And his adorable dimples.
“Charlie’s right” I spoke calming down.
“It’s game night. I’m with my friends and nothings gonna ruin that. Even you Shada”
“It was ruined the moment you stepped in”
“Man chill out” Owen said placing a hand on Jeremys shoulder. I watched as the two small talked on the side before turning my attention back to the rest of group.
Internally groaning I took a seat in between Jadah and Savannah who had finally made it back to the living room.
“Glad to see your lasagna didn’t come out burnt” Savannah said making me let out a giggle. Referring to the first time I tried baking lasagna.
“Sav that was one time and it was an accident”
“I can think of other things that were an accident” Jeremy said my eyes going wide. Gasps filling the room.
“Dude yo chill out”
“That’s low even for you Jeremy” I said standing up and making my way down the familiar hallway. I reach a room I recognized as Toris. Locking myself in. I began to cry sitting down on her bed in the center of the room.
That was it. Those were the words that finally triggered me.
Flashback
“Your a drunk! Can’t even take care of your own daughter!” “She was a fucking accident!” “You don’t mean that daddy” I cried holding my chest to my knees. Drowning out the voices of my parents fighting. Wanting anything. Anything to happen that would get me out of this house. But nothing did.
My thoughts were cut off by a sudden knock on the door.
“Who is it?” I questioned wiping the stray tears that had escaped.
“It’s me”
“Who’s me?” I asked sniffling.
“Jeremy”
“Go away you fucking prick”
“Can we talk? Please” He pleaded confusion hitting me. Why would he want to talk to me? Why now?
I made my way toward the door slowly unlocking it.
“What do you want?” I asked moving back onto the bed.
“I wanna apologize. Savannah told me about your parents. She also said if I didn’t cool it she’d have my head” He said moving slowly to sit beside me on the bed.
“Yeah. She’s a sweet girl but she’ll have your head in seconds” I tried to joke only to have more tears fall down my face.
“Look I’m really sorry for acting like such a jerk”
“A dick” I corrected him earning a chuckle from the guy.
“A dick. I’m really sorry”
“For the sake of our friends outside. I guess I’m sorry too. Sav always talks about how much of a great guy you are but I never actually got to know you. I honestly I don’t know why I always went out my way to attack you”
“I do” He spoke. My head cocking to the side in confusion.
“I mean I know why I always acted like that”
“And why is that?”
“Maybe it was to conceal the big fat crush I had on you since the moment I laid eyes on you”
“What?” I questioned looking him in the eyes.
“Don’t make me say it again. Look I’ve acted like such an ass especially lately. But every time I see you I just remember the first time we met. How beautiful you were. But then we interacted. And now I realize how terrible I really was. Then the way you reacted didn’t help the situation. I mean it looked like you weren’t having the best day and I made it worse. And guilt has been eating away at me ever since but I could never bring myself to apologize because of my stupid pride”
“Your pride is pretty stupid. But your face makes up for it” I spoke with a nervous smile.
“Was that a compliment?” He teased.
“So what if it was? What are you gonna do about it Shada?”
“Well for starters.....I’m gonna take you on a date. A proper date. Maybe to the beach. We could have a picnic. Make a day out of it. The I’ll drive you back to yours and Savannah’s. We’ll walk hand and had up to your door. We’ll make casual small talk about how great it was. Then I’ll say we should do this again sometime and you’ll agree of course. Then I’ll lean in at the last second and....kiss you”
He said our bodies seemingly to have gotten closer within the period he had begun talking to now.
“Why wait?” I whispered finally looking straight at him to see him already looking at me.
We gazed into each other’s eyes until our lips met in the middle. The kiss was short but sweet. We finally pulled away looking down I watched as he intertwined our fingers. Smiles plastered on both of our faces
This was it. No more backhanded comments. No more glaring at each other from across the room. No more uncomfortable tension in the air.
It was me and Jeremy.
————
Up Next: Charlie Gillespie x Reader (Smut)
Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader
Sacha Carlson x Reader
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Holy crap this episode was funny as hell until it wasn't and then we were plunged right back into the intensity. But great episode!!! I don't lb so I don't get spoilers but man I had a lot of reactions as I watched. Ngl, a lot of cursing and caps ahead but damn was this such a good episode:
“One minute before the blackout” - now we’re to 1 minute from 1 week last week
“The place where this heart’s from, it was a tragedy. But once we land, it’s gonna turn into a miracle, right?” “Yeah, I like that” -- so once we land and settle after all of this craziness, a tragedy will turn into a miracle? I like that *looking at you Eddie*
EDDIE GET OUT OF THAT CHOPPER RN, DO NOT DO THIS TO ME AFTER SEASON 4, DO NOT!!!
Bobby going in to save the heart, hmm...
Oh, thank God - Eddie, Hen, and Bobby are all safe
Dr. Salazar - we need more of her. I love her so much.
4 Days later - hmm...
Wow, they’re really bringing Harry to the forefront here, this whole kidnapping thing is going to happen isn't it?
Harry charging neighbors and Michael and David in a sort of co-parent situation - first of all, Harry you are a GENIUS and love that Michael and David with Harry are being focused on in this episode, ahem, is there possibly a reason...?
Lou survived!!!! THANK GOD
Nearly 5 days Lou was in hospital
5 day head start for Hudson - is there something with 1, 3, 4 and now 5? I'm keeping track here, Tim
Buck is the power czar LOL - omg I love this man so much
Ravi!!! We need MORE Ravi!!! but where is Albert???
CHIMNEY!!!!! OMG I LOVE YOU - "Give me a charger or Uncle Buck will never see his niece again" - "Give him a charger" - "Well played" - "Let this be a lesson, never give that man a clipboard" - "Excuse me for being efficient" - "That’s one word for what you are" - okay #1 I will forever be in love with Chimney, probably one of my top favorite characters on this show & #2 LOVE this whole brothers interaction, Albert may not be there but Buck and Chim are still going with the whole older-brother-is-exasperated-with-the-younger-brother's-shit vibe
Oh God, here comes more cringe, yay... not so much
Eddie kisses Ana on the cheek AGAIN (Eddie, can you hear me? This is your subconscious speaking, when are you going to end this, my man?)
Ana says going to visit was Christopher’s idea since he missed Eddie and thought he was hungry - muy interesante
Buck rushing over to greet Christopher and hugging him tight is a moment I live for - outside of the whole Buck and Eddie story, I LOVE this relationship with all of my heart, I am so glad Christopher has Buck, he really is his second dad (with or without Eddie being involved)
Eddie not introducing Ana to Ravi (nor Buck saying hi) - Buck’s expression - “You must be Eddie’s wife” Christopher: “Not yet” I FUCKING LOVE THIS KID, OKAY!!!! Buck’s smile, he loves Christopher, too - love how Ana and Eddie don't say anything to dispel or clarify this
SAME FUCKING TRIGGER AND THIS TIME BUCK SEES IT!!!! OMG (Eddie, this is your subconscious again, you need to listen! The universe and I are trying to tell you something, please before any more shit hits the fan like me having to watch more uncomfortable interactions between you and your placeholder friend!)
Eddie sending Ana and Christopher on a tour with Ravi IN THE DARK at his work place so he can put SALADS AWAY
Buck’s expressions the entire time - Buck knows something's up
Ana’s expressions the entire time - she KNOWS
Thank God Bobby wasn’t around - hear me out, I have a reason for this that I am still working on in this long ass meta
Buck makes sure to not make eye contact with Ana (except quickly when Ravi is waiting to be introduced), even when Ana laughs at his “Constantly”
Eddie being a probie when Shannon came back in season 2 (and Eddie pulled her into the locker room to talk) & Ana being left to tour the station house with Ravi aka Probie - hello parallels & contrasts, my old friend
“I don’t want these things to wilt” - interesting choice of wording there, Eddie (newsflash, it's already wilting, Eddie)
I almost feel a little bad for Ana here because she did do something nice and she gets the brushoff and some discomfort/embarrassment in return (I mean the woman brought three salads in the middle of a blackout that she most likely made herself, come on - I'm sure some people think salads are easy to make but to those of us in the inexperienced/uninitiated cooks' club, it's not that simple)
Lila dead - hmm...are we surprised? (Hudson didn't give a fig about her and what's sad is Lou would have saved her)
“I think she was smitten like those other fools. I think she saw him being led away in cuffs and she intervened on his behalf” - interesting line there, Athena...
I need more scenes with Athena and Elaine - I know Elaine is the captain and Athena is on her own with no partner but I gotta say I am enjoying this
Athena! Why are you not warning the survivors!!! I mean I get it but still!!!
OMG “He takes Christopher all the time, he’s got the place memorized” - BUCK LISTENED TO EDDIE IN 3x03 - OMG!!!
Oh Buck my poor baby, he knows what they’re walking into - I LOVE Hen’s line of “Just smile, Buck” and then Eddie and Chim both smile wide at him - OMG I AM LIVING FOR THESE SCENES WITH THE 118
“Welcome to the Jungle” - nice touch 911
OMG Buck you are cracking me up - no animals are getting past him
1 hawk or eagle or raptor maybe? I’m not good with bird species okay!!!
3 emus again
1 bird I have no idea what kind (wondering if that’s what we saw the back of last episode near the emus)
Giraffe again
3 wolves
3 camels
Elephant
“The animal makes a move, control it” - YOU GOT THIS BUCK (yes we are finally getting that scene we saw filmed!!!)
Buck’s expression when the camel runs by is KILLING ME 'yeah, that's right Camel, back up, back up, you don't want any of this, yeah that's right'
Stuffed animals in the souvenir store, interesting
2 for $5 sign - even more interesting
1 alpaca
I guess I kind of wonder why Hen didn’t become a vet at one point in her life? Like I’m glad she’s a first responder and about to be a doctor but damn she knows so much about animals, she’s like the 118’s resident animal expert, that’s my girl
“We were gonna get one” - um...what? Hen...
“I wouldn’t” LOL oh Bobby you slay me
Is it just me or do we hear ET almost type music in the background as Hen lays chips down for the alpaca? Bobby mentioning the Reese’s Pieces, the flashlight shining on the Alpaca when it steps into view...are we getting an ET reference?
“It’s calling its friend!” *another Alpaca appears through coats “Clever girl” - a Jurassic Park reference - It’s a fucking Steven Spielberg reference, holy shit!!!!
Okay so that scene was Eddie looking over at Bobby, got it, near the fire trucks
Oh Buck I love you so much “So you ran from an Alpaca?” “Two Alpacas and no one was running” - both Buck’s and Eddie’s faces and then laughter are freaking hilarious
Chimney: “After careful consideration, I have decided not to endorse this park” - OMG I have not stopped laughing for like five minutes straight, can you imagine a Jurassic Park AU for this team? - shot of T-rex above Ripley’s Believe It Or Not (nice one, 911)
Weird looking bird that I've never seen before and 2 emus and 2 vulture, 1 hawk/raptor bird, 1 rhino
May is awesome!!! And so are those neighbors!!!!
Eddie in the tank top!!! Buck with a clipboard!!!
“Hey are you sleeping or just pretending?” Buck is taking no prisoners today
Buck is trying to make sure he’s not having any symptoms, omg, seriously how do you not love this guy???? Eddie you better make an honest man out of him soon, I'm not sure how much longer I can take this
“You don’t give up, do you?” Oh Eddie you did not just say that, to Buck of all people, come on man (hello season 3 Eddie, my old friend)
Get him, Buck! Get him!
“Since when do you panic?” “That’s what I said, I don’t panic” Buck once again out there proving that he knows Eddie better than anyone else
Oh wow!!! Eddie came right out and said it “If I’m being honest with myself I think it was Ana”
And there it is folks “She’s been a constant through all of this, staying with Christopher”
“Somehow we became a ready made family and I don’t know if I’m ready for that” - wow, this is an excellent scene, he’s totally letting that wall down to talk candidly with Buck, nice - and him being stripped down to a tank top for this scene just reiterates that fact, he's baring some things
“I think I’m gonna stick it out. Ana’s the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with since Shannon” - oh Eddie, you really need to shit or get off the pot my friend, this isn’t good for you, Christopher or Ana - how can you sentence all three of you to this? come on
“My kid loves her” but YOU DON'T - okay my heart is breaking, Eddie is making the same goddamn mistake all over again just like we predicted - Eddie please, what did Carla just say to you three episodes ago? Where the hell is Carla btw????
“Stick it out? That’s not the way you talk about someone you’re in love with” “That enough?” - thank you Buck, seriously THANK YOU
Okay my heart just broke again but for Buck this time “Eddie, I have been Ana” - aww =( I love my chaotic firefighter son with all of my heart
And of course Denial!Eddie aka repressed!Eddie are back, sigh - 5x03 has to be where it all comes to a head, it has to be, now even Buck is forcing him to face what he's trying so hard not to - word of advice Eddie, my repressed firefighter son, you can try to deny it mentally/emotionally all you want but it will come out one way or another, just like it's coming out in panic attack symptoms and anxiety - you have to end this, sweetie
And I think it’s very interesting that Eddie looks right at Buck during “If I’m being honest with myself” *looks away then right back at Buck* “I think it was Ana”, “staying with Christopher”, then right after “I don’t know if I’m ready for that”, “I think I’m gonna stick it out”, “Ana’s the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with since Shannon” “My kid loves her”
OMG Eddie’s expression when Buck says “I know what it’s like to be in love with someone who’s not all the way in and deep down you know it and it hurts. It hurts worse than the truth” — RYAN WHERE IS YOUR GODDAMN EMMY??? If anyone ever doubted that Eddie was in love with Buck, there’s the freaking proof written all over Eddie’s face at Buck’s line!!! It’s not something he thinks he can have and it hurts
Okay seriously, Eddie saying “Ana’s the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with Shannon” — VERY PURPOSEFUL MENTION OF A WOMAN HE’S WANTED TO SPEND TIME WITH, EDDIE PLEASE, CAN YOU HEAR ME!!!!
Then they go right to Chim calling Maddie, uh huh, I see you 911
I really love Hen’s full support of Maddie btw & I love how Chim is able to talk to Hen about it all
Oh no!!! Maddie please don’t fall asleep!!!
Oh thank God!!!! It’s going to be okay, Maddie, you got her, it’s going to be okay - I seriously want to give my girl a hug and tell her it's going to be okay
Omg Jee-Yun is so cute!!!
Day 4 or day 5 hmmm - I'm still keeping track, Tim
“Why is it every time the world ends, it ends some more?” “It just keeps us on our toes” “More like knocks us on our asses” - Universe is that you?
Awww Bobby just called Athena “baby” <3 I'm not crying, you're crying
YES more Athena and Elaine
Lou is awake!!!!
Awww Lou =( I may or may not be ugly crying rn
I cannot tell you how relieved I am that Lou is alive
Oh God!!!! Athena get the cops there now!!!!
Yeah you should have let Harry charge them Michael lol, of course they were there to just use the generator power (though I love and appreciate the contrast they gave us in the neighbors who helped the boy with the ventilator so we know not all people take advantage)
OH NO GET AWAY FROM HARRY YOU BASTARD!!!!
On a side note, it’s nice to see more Michael and David but at what cost, Tim? Can we please get more of them and especially David in a more lighthearted episode for crying out loud? Is that too much to ask???
Go Bobby!!!!
Good for you, Athena!!!
Omg this is practically Athena’s nightmare come to life, shit
Omg Hudson unplugged the goddamn generator, THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!
HARRY!!!!!!
I’M SORRY BUT ARE YOU TELLING ME THERE’S NO BOLO WITH A PICTURE ON THIS GUY?!!? - oh right, no power, but STILL
Okay that was super intense, I really hope Athena is the one to take Hudson down, just like Bobby said
I have a few more rewatches to do before breaking things down but damn, I think I need a drink after that one.
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rohondra · 4 years
Text
Firsts || Izuku Midoriya
a/n: this is for another bnharem discord collab!! the prompt was “Pen Pals”. I’m pretty content with how this came out and I’m super excited to write a bit more considering I got a computer!! I’m hoping to do a pt2 hehe. god bless the people in my haikyuu server who swooped in and saved the day every time I had a brain far. 
rating: n*fw 18+
word count: just over 2k
warnings: virgin!Reader, daddy kink yes again ok I have a problem, FaceTime sex, mutual masturbation, big buff Izuku
all characters are aged up when I write and I take no credit for the images I post w said writings unless stated otherwise.
PLEASE CHECK OUT EVERYONES AMAZING FICS FOR THIS COLLAB!!!
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A notification from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Office Discord server you were a part of popped up on your phone. It was an announcement that they would be randomly selecting pen pals as an event to get people more connected during this pandemic, of course you had the option to opt out, but the idea of doing something so “risky” excited you. You held your breath and reacted with a thumbs up, butterflies instantly flooding your stomach.
Just under an hour later one of the admins sent you a pm;
-Hey! Thanks so much for joining our penpals event. Social distancing is a pain in the ass, but hopefully this will lighten your spirits! We paired you with @/izuku#2485. Xx
Being the nosy son of a bitch you were, you immediately typed his user into the server and checked his activity within it- specifically the “#pictures” channel, but found nothing. Just as you were about to send him a friend request, you got a notification of another pm.. Oddly enough from him;
-Hi, we got paired for the penpal event! It’s okay if you don’t want to send your address to a complete stranger, I get it haha.
The butterflies returned as you pressed the request button, and immediately saw it change from “pending” to “send message”.
~Hi! If I’m honest it’s just my college address lol, nothing too risky.
-College huh? Me too. I was afraid you were going to end up being a minor and then I’d feel kind of weird ha. What school?
~Do not fear, I am in fact legal. Even if it is by 8 months lol. ASU! Yourself?
-Arizona huh? Interesting, I’m actually finishing my senior year at Iowa State.
Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing through your veins at the last message. Senior?! What if this guy was like, 40?? No, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be living on campus at that age.. But he never specified he was living in a dorm. You closed Discord and moved onto what seemed to be the never ending flood of assignments, two of which were due that night.
A notification popped up on your computer mid essay;
-Don’t wanna be pushy. Here’s my address if you decide to write me.(:
You chewed at your bottom lip, weighing the consequences. It couldn’t be that bad of an idea right? He seemed nice, not pervy at all.. Fuck it.
“Hello! It’s your good old pal from the Marvel server. If I'm honest I'm not that good at these things, haha. This letter will be pretty short, but tell me- who’s your favorite Marvel character? Feel free to gush! I’m looking forward to hearing back from you.
From,
Y/N”
-
Two weeks later your RA slipped the envelope under your door, “MAIL!!!” she yelled before hurrying to the next room to deliver. Your heart fluttered as you opened it, admiring his clean handwriting;
“Hi. Alls good, I’m pretty awkward myself ha. My name is Izuku Midoriya! My friends call me Deku. Y/N is a nice name.
Honestly, it’s kind of cliche but Captain America has to be my favorite. I’m a bit of a Marvel junkie. I’ve seen every movie, have the entire Captain America comic series, own a Marvel Encyclopedia, plus almost every Marvel funko pop they’ve released.. Now that I think of it I’m definitely more than “a bit” obsessed ha. How about you? If it’s easier for you, you could just message me on discord.
-Izuku”
You giggled as you opened the app on your phone.
~Hi! I just got your letter. Seems to me you’re DEFINITELY obsessed lol but that’s okay, me too. I’m obsessed with Captain America. Chris Evans? *cheff kiss*”
-Hey. That’s so funny! I aspire to look like him one day haha. Taking it one day at a time, but this pandemic is making it difficult rip. You wanna add me on snapchat? I probably came off as some creepy perv ha. @/deku_zuku.”
From that point on, you two became OBSESSED with each other. Deku was an extremely gorgeous, freckled man with colored, fluffy green hair. You thought your sleep schedule was already fucked because of the pandemic? Sike, now it really was. You were staying up until 5am snapchatting him, interacting with him on discord, texting him, etc. You just couldn’t get enough of each other.
Your favorite snapchats from him were his post workout selfies. You loved the way his skin glistened, his muscular body littered in scars and freckles. More often than not you screenshot them and definitely got off to them, but you could never tell him that. It was embarassing to think about how most nights you laid in bed pumping a dildo inside of yourself desperately calling his name, imagining it was him fucking your tight virgin pussy.
As you were getting lost in imagining scenarios your phone began ringing, oh fuck he was FaceTimeing you.
You quickly sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and setting your phone against a book for support before answering.
“H-hi! Sorry I wasn’t expecting you to FaceTime me ha.”
Izuku grinned ear to ear, “No I’m sorry! I should’ve asked first, but you look great so I mean.. No complaints from me with how you look.”
Red tinted your cheeks, “A-ah thank you. You’re pretty good looking yourself.”
Izuku’s eyes narrowed, “Did I catch you at uh- a bad time?”
You tilted your head in confusion, “No? I mean I was trying to catch up on some stuff but other than I wasn’t doing anything important.”
“Ha, that looks pretty important. You also look a little flushed.”
When your eyes followed his on your screen your cheeks immediately lit on fire and you shifted to cover the dildo you carelessly left on the parallel night stand.
“So that’s why you’ve been screenshotting my pictures huh? I never would’ve taken Y/n to be such a slut.” he smirked.
He could feel his cock begin weep at the sight, he couldn’t help but palm himself. What if you got off to him? Thinking about how your little moans might sound when they slip out of your mouth made his cock pulse, he wanted to make you moan. He wanted to be the reason you came undone.
You tried to defend yourself, slightly annoyed by the derogatory term he referred to you as, “I- no. It isn’t like th-”
He cut you off, his voice having dropped an octave, “It’s okay baby, tell me what you think about.. I wanna hear what gets you off with those pictures.”
Hands came up to cover your face, you felt like you were going to puke- this was too embarrassing. His screen went to “paused” and you heard shuffling from his end. Within seconds you received a picture of Izuku in the mirror, his large hand barely covering his erect penis and his shirt between his teeth. He chuckled, “How about now princess? What makes that pretty pussy tighten around your toy?”
Slick slipped from your previously abused cunt, he sounded so delicious and looked even more delicious. When you spoke, your voice came out as a squeak, “I-I uh, I can’t tell you! It’s embarrassing.” If you could light on fire, it would’ve already happened. In fact, you wish you could. If you’re lucky the entire dorm might catch ablaze as well so all evidence is ruined.
A deep chuckle echoed from your phone speaker, “Embarrassed? It’s not like you’re a blushing virgin baby.”
There was a pause as you lowered your hands, your nose scrunched from the humility and one eye shut, “.. And if I told you I was?”
Izuku felt his member pulse yet again, precum gliding from his slit. That almost sent him over the edge, there was no way someone as breathtaking as you hadn’t been with anyone. Fuck, he could take your innocence and ruin you for any other man. He could make you his own and have you milking his thick cock every night, screaming his name and begging for more.
A meak sigh pulled him from his fantasies as you spoke up, “Sorry if that makes me less appealing.” He was quick to follow up, “N-no. God no. That,” he sighed,” fuck that’s honestly hot.”
Boldness coursed through him as his hand lazily pumped his shaft, “That just means I can be all your firsts.. Here, give me a minute.”
Your heart sank for a minute when the FaceTime ended, but fluttered once again when another call from him came through. This time though, it was from his laptop. He smirked before rolling back in his computer chair, his cock twitching against his stomach anxious for attention.
Desire burnt within him at the sight of you, eyebrows raised and eyes enlarged with pupils blown while you licked your lips. Izuku couldn’t help as his hand encircled his shaft once again, “What is it you think about baby? Me kissing and licking all over your body? My fingers pumping in and out of you while my tongue plays with your nipple?” He began a generous pace of pumping himself before his next taunt, “Maybe my tongue playing with your clit?”
A soft moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “A-all of that. ‘Zuku c-can I please touch myself?” You gasped as you watched precum flow from his tip at your words. He nodded, “Please do.”
You sat back, lifting your hips just enough to slip your panties off, nervously looking at him. All caution was thrown to the wind when Izuku groaned, “Ah, be a good girl for me baby.”
You made sure your full body was in view before grabbing the toy and lowering it between your thighs, which were now covered in a thin layer of your arousal. Squeezing your eyes shut you opened your legs and gently pushed until the dildo was fully sheathed inside of you.
Opening your eyes you were greeted with the most sinful sight, Izuku Midoriya quickly gliding his hand up and down his cock with his chest heaving, his body sheen with sweat.  You let a high pitched moan, your name resonating slowly from his chest. With every thrust your wrist made, a coil began to form inside your belly, it all seemed so familiar but was far more exhilarating knowing that someone else was watching.
“Just think about when that’ll be my cock splitting you in half. Shit- close your eyes for me, start playing with your clit and imagine it's me.” You nodded in response, unable to form words.
Obeying his command, it felt like electricity struck you when your finger made contact. The coil was now fully formed and threatened to burst with every movement.
“I need to cum, p-please.”
“Yeah? Only if you beg for daddy to let you.” He smirked as he watched your thighs tense for a moment.
“A-ah.. please! Please let me finish. Please d-daddy, need to so bad.”
Izuku felt his orgasm quickly approaching with each shaky word spilling from your beautiful lips, “Yeah baby, you can cum now. Let me see the pretty faces you make.”
SNAP
You were gone, your body lost to the ocean of ecstacy ripping through you as you rode the waves of your release.
He sat forward, studying the way your face contorted and how your cunt sucked the toy in as far as possible. The thought of you milking the absolute hell out of his cock sent him over the edge, head thrown back with spurts of cum covering his beautifully toned chest and stomach.
Eyes twitched trying to focus from the intensity of your orgasm as you came down from euphoria.
As Izuku  began cleaning himself off he spoke up, “So you’ve genuinely never done that kind of stuff before?” You shook your head before sitting up to sling a large t-shirt over your body, “Nope, when I said I was a virgin I mean like V I R G I N.”
He shook his head and chuckled, “Crazy. I have some assignments I need to do, if you want you could keep me company?”
You pulled a pillow under your chin and hugged it.  “I have some work to do too, so I guess that’ll work.” You giggled. He twirled a pen between his fingers before bringing it up to chew on, “And once we call it quits for the evening, how about we check off some more ‘firsts’ for you?”
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jbbuckybarnes · 4 years
Text
We need to talk...
I knew that this topic of interactions will come up again, because it has never been talked all the way through, so I had this drafted for a while. So much of this old draft still resonated with this permanently unfinished discussion that I just had to edit it and post it, because I feel like it has to be said and put into one post. We can’t keep starting this conversation and then make it so dramatic that there is no conclusion or compromise. The only reason this time is more mellow is because people have better standards for this stuff due to a pandemic going on. This is written for the MCU fandom, but I’ve seen this go down in different fandoms, so here we go:
Things that are NOT at fault for readers not interacting:
The Readers. Should be clear after asking them again and again. And nothing changing. The readers at large are not at fault for a couple people being demanding or hateful. Neither are they at fault for this website and other social medias automatically putting writers at a disadvantage. They do their best with the time they have in their life (just like writers). And after asking them over months to try and reblog more and not much changing, it should be obvious that it isn’t where the problem lies. At least not 95% of it. NOW:
Things that ARE at fault for readers not interacting:
Pushing them, thinking they owe you stuff, while you tear other writers down saying that nobody owes them stuff. That happens time and time again. To me, to friends, to writers I check in with. Don't expect community to come to you when you don't come to them.
Not putting anon asks off when demands and hate get too much. It’s literally THAT easy when people get nasty. It’s sad for the nice anons, but they will understand. Save your mental health! Save the mental health of people reading that hate on their dash. I don’t know how many people constantly answering to hate I have unfollowed and I’m sure people have unfollowed me for doing the same.
Ego and hypocrisy. You can't say numbers aren't a problem and then say they are. In the same post. AND then also deny it later in some of the cases we’ve seen in recent months. Yes, that happened. In several fandoms where this topic comes up semi-regularly. And that might also be the reason people are tired of this stuff and speak out against it.
The fact Tumblr is only used approximately twice a year by most people. And has a shitty tag system. And a shitty algorithm. You are at an automatic disadvantage.
The fact some of you can't understand that 3-5% of your following interacting is a good and normal rate on pretty much all social media. The bigger you get in followers, the bigger the gap gets between followers and interaction (and demand and hate). There are literal statistics on that. 1% interaction at 10k is still good for a platform you have no power over!
The fact some of the people here call anons *haters* for pointing out that you interact w the same 10 people, making that speace seem excluding, when it's literally true what those people say!? Nothing wrong with only support the same 10 people on your blog, but then don't say that you practice what you preach (cause you don’t). You can’t demand more interaction when you don’t interact more yourself. That is how it works, for anyone, not just people of a certain follower count. If I reblog more fics, my blog gets more clout. Logical conclusion. Works for everyone. You have no time for that? Then don’t expect more back. It’s called SOCIAL media for a damn reason.
Telling people asking for Tumblr advice to interact more to make new friends but being the most defensive/indifferent person once they talk to you in DMs. Yes, that keeps happening and I know it from either my own experience or from others sharing their experiences with me. It’s kinda sad. It’s more of a minor factor in people not interacting, but I’ve seen it enough to mention it.
Making shitposts and personal posts all day and then saying you don't have the time in your life to interact w peoples' writings. Like, drabbles exist on almost anyone's masterlist. 5 minute read, easy support for a writer that might be losing motivation. Not every work has to be written like a novel to be great as hell or “quality proven.”
Oh, and there hasn't been a MCU movie in a while, making most of our readership probably currently not care about the fandom as much. Especially after Endgame ended up being a total opinion splitter.
Bonus: The misunderstanding that pushing shy readers to interact does the exact opposite. Not to start about the fact that we are in the middle of a pandemic at the moment. That means they may not have time to read and you may not have time to write. Normal. Logical. The same reason lots of people currently don’t publish. Don’t expect anything predictable and controlable out of current times.
Bonus: Check how you connect interactions to self worth and worth/fun of your writing hobby. Define what success means for you in this space, otherwise you will never be satisfied. It won’t matter if a post has 1k reblogs, you’ll always want more, because you chase an infinite metric.
Bonus: Maybe take a month to concentrate on community, getting outside of your bubble that you deny but very likely have (I’m not excluding myself from this), and actually improve interactions. Some people seem to have forgotten that when you interact with other writers, they probably interact back. Surprise! Your followers already know your tried and true fanfic friends, they want some new stuff without searching for it. Basic Marketing knowledge, know what your audience wants. If you do this for the interactions you gotta look at it from a marketing standpoint and not a pure passion standpoint. Oh: And maybe they find you interacting in the notes of someone else’s post and become an active follower. Win-Win-Win situation.
Bonus: Community is a loop, a net of interactions. Some people here have clique behavior, sound defensive and/or simply don't practice what they preach. That is not me or anyone else hating on specific blogs (I’m also no complete exception), it’s people trying to tell you that you can’t ask for shit you don’t practice yourself. Nothing wrong with supporting your friends only, but then don’t go around expecting new people to find your stuff. It’s literally THAT simple. You can’t have both!
Bonus: Ignoring some of the ride or die readers that are already there. Some of the people on here wish they had that and it’s deadass taken it for granted by some. Meanwhile I'm sitting here with Serotonin levels like christmas when someone I know reblogs my stuff and my fic gets some clout. Imma repeat myself: If you do it for the numbers, you gotta look at it more like marketing and less like pure passion.
And again: You are on a social media platform that will always put you at a disatvantage. That is not the readers' fault. It's how social media works at this point. If you want as much interaction as you can without putting in more interaction work yourself, simply share your works on here, AO3 and Wattpad simultaneously. Problem solved.
Bottomline: If you want more love on your work you gotta go beyond what you currently do, since it’s clearly not working for you. Reblog stuff from people you don't know. I don't give a sh*t if it's a 5k or a 100 follower blog. Hell, there is the whole 366 reblog challenge and some of you deadass went on reblogging the same people when that’s not really what this was made for. I, personally, haven't run out of new people to reblog, so this shouldn't be hard. Actually take time to talk to people in DM's, it takes 10 minutes in the evening to write a few people a message asking how they are or sending a cute gif. If you want stuff, you have to give it. Not leave it. People have come to me before, telling me "the community doesn't owe you stuff", no, they don't, but they do owe if they wanna be owed something back or even demand to be owed something back. Community is about back and forth. You give, you get. It's work, cause it's a big hobby. If you don't have time, that's cool, but then don't be sad about lower interaction. It’s logical that low activity from you leads to low activity from others in the long run, unless you do something worldshakingly new. You don't wanna look beyond a circle of friends or your go-to writers much? That's fine, but don't be upset about barely new people interacting cause they feel excluded or simply don’t find your work because of the same people seeing the same people reblogging the same works. What's not fine is not seeing how readers are NOT THE PROBLEM.
I haven’t talked to a single person about this that DIDN’T find the posts surrounding it demanding and completely ignoring the arguments some others had...repeatedly. Every single time it came up. Not just once but time and time again, whenever this topic comes up. You want interaction? Interact. You don’t want hate? Don’t give it a platform. As harsh as that sounds, I’ve never felt better on this platform since I put anon asks off, even when I miss the nice anons. They probably understand. PS: Again, this was written a while ago and edited to fit into a more general context now. I hope people can discuss this in a civil, non-judgmental way, because that is how I tried to write this. This is not again a specific person or group, it’s pinpointing what I see repeating for two years on this platform now, in all corners. I’d also like to mention that we are still in a pandemic and lives have never looked so vastly different, so you can’t demand anything normal in this very not normal time. Even if you do it all right, your interactions dropped in the pandemic cause people likely stay away form this platform for mental health reasons. There is so many layers to look at, these clearly aren’t all, but I hope it makes some people think about what and when they complain. Numbers will never satisfy you, they will always leave you wanting more if you don’t know why you do what you do and for what. Anyway: Be nice to each other and me in the notes in case this gets shared! No drama please! Ignore any grammar and typo mistakes, lol. Love ya!
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kyberphilosopher · 4 years
Text
Eᴘɪᴄᴀʀɪᴄᴀᴄʏ
”Whatever is done for the sake of love is past the bounds of good or evil.“
Word Count: 5297
Requested: nope. there’s some allusions to sex though. written slightly different to fit the mood. 
Tumblr media
Noun. epicaricacy (uncountable) (rare) Rejoicing at or deriving pleasure from the misfortunes of others.
 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You reminded Maul, very much of a... oh, how would he describe it? A fly. An annoying, buzzy little fly that was also hellbent on ruining his day, everyday. You were no common fly. You were an evil fly, capable of intelligent thinking and something along the lines of murder- which only added to the inconvenience. 
You had been Master Sidious’s apprentice before him. Maul never learned the whole story, but at some point Sidious decided that you were no longer of use. You, of course, were not too happy about this. But oh well. It sucks to suck. Maul was in power now- screw you. 
He could remember the way you had looked at him when you were sent out of the chambers. Your sleek and powerful appearance was initially a turn on for the young Zabrak, but the intense look of hatred made it even better. 
You had hated your replacement from the beginning. You truly hadn’t done anything wrong, and the only explanation you could think of for this, was the your Master had begun to see you as a rival. It made enough sense, you supposed, as you had started the process of thinking of overthrowing him. But that was how the rule of two worked! Did Sidious honestly believe that Maul wouldn’t start to think the same things? Only a fool would do that. 
You knew better than to make a fuss, however. This would only result in your immediate death. If you wanted to truly have revenge, it would have to wait. So, you took your punishment of being discarded like common space junk, and accepted the grace of leaving without a fight or a saber in your back. 
But you just couldn’t help the wave of absolute loathing that came over you upon seeing the Zabrak replacement. What was his stupid name going to be? Darth Maul? Whatever. You had been Darth Carisus. Now you were just Y/N. 
Maul, to put it poetically, seriously didn’t give a shit. As stated above- it sucks to suck. You weren’t his problem. You were just a girl now, and he was going to be a Sith lord. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Then, of course, the same thing happened to Maul, and his tone changed. 
What had once been ‘sucks to suck’, quickly became ‘oh shit’ as Maul spiraled down without any legs. Without said legs, he had a lot more free time to think, which caused him to suddenly feel much more sympathy for you. 
Even though he had only said a grand total of zero words to you in your single interaction, he thought finding you would probably be the best place to start. The only immediate problem was that he could practically feel your smirk of revenge trained on him from wherever you were in the galaxy. That was probably what he thought about the most. 
It became one of his two hobbies: hating Kenobi, and being embarrassed by you without your presence. 
When he had made it to exile on Lotho Minor, he lay back in exhaustion on some piece of uncomfortable junk. His head was killing, his back twisted into knots, and his chest was heaving. While he had a plan to piece himself back together, he also needed a plan for revenge. 
With his last bits of energy, he reached out to you. He had absolutely no idea where you were, or if you were truly even still alive. You were a few years younger than him... perhaps your cunning skills had not been enough for your survival. Still, he did not who else would help him. 
Although it was a long shot, he got it out to you. Then he took a much needed nap. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
When you arrived on the little junk planet, you weren’t actually expecting it to be a little junk planet. You had hoped, at least, that maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked from a distance. Maybe the ball of dust had a nice cantina or something. It didn’t. It was literally all trash. 
“Hm,” you said to yourself as you glanced around. “Well this is a shit hole.” Still, you continued on, your dark boots digging into the dirt. The climate was hot in an uncomfortable way, and it felt like everything on the planet was constantly watching you. 
Finally, you came to a hut. It was made of metal and straw alike, barely holding together in the wind of the place. It would’ve been an awful place to live for anyone, but it was nice enough on this planet in particular. You recognized it clear as day from the vision that guided you here, and the voice that called out to you. The owner of the voice must’ve been inside, just past the makeshift curtain door. 
You pushed your way in. The floor felt solid under you for approximately three whole seconds. Then it opened up and swallowed you whole. 
You twisted down the tunnel for another few seconds. The dirt and sand was scuffing up your clothes and dinging your lightsabers. Some specs got in your eyes and burned, while others glued themselves to your hair. Once you were at the bottom, you just laid there for another second. How the fuck, had it come to this?
The answer was right in front of you. 
You pushed yourself to your feet, rolling your shoulders and getting a bearing of your surroundings. You were under the ground now, in some kind of cave of dirt. Very charming. 
“This better be worth it,” you grumbled to yourself. Then you set forward again, ignoring the dull pain in your left wrist and the scratch on your thigh. 
Was it worth it? Well, you didn’t think so in the moment. When you recognized him, you thought nothing could be worth this shit. That question you had asked yourself earlier? About how it could’ve come to this? Maul was literally the answer. 
He was turned away from you, but you could recognize the scarlet skin and black tattoos from a mile away. The horns on his head had grown slightly longer, but not incredibly so. He was hunched over at the end of the cave, with mechanical clicking noises echoing all around. 
“It’s you,” you drawled, your arms crossing. “Oh, goodie.”
Maul perked up at the sound of your voice. He had only heard it when it was muffled, and that only one been two words (‘yes, master’). He was sane enough to decide that he liked it. It was sultry and sarcastic and reminded him of the word ‘poison’. 
He turned around on his many legs, revealing them to you. Your eyes widened at the second half of a spider emerging from the darkness, sinking and wheezing mechanically. You could see wires and screws and pieces of junk all mixed together for him to carry himself on. “Woah,” you said. One hand raised near your mouth in a fist, for you were suddenly feeling a little ill. “What happened to you?” 
“Same thing... that happened... to you!” he said through insane gasps. “Kenobi...” he whispered lowly. 
You squinted your eyes, pursed your lips slightly. “Who the fuck is Kenobi?”
Maul’s eyes widened. Then his right hand raised and settled on his forehead as he blinked several times. His cloudy head was sometimes cloudier than other days, and today it had been very bad. “A... Jedi,” he managed to get out, though his voice sounded strained. 
“Oh,” you said simply. In truth, a faint image of a young Jedi came to mind, though you couldn’t place it that well. He was Qoo-Gongs Jedi. Quu-Gong? Wee-Gong? Something. 
“Well you look great.” Your eyes ran up and down Maul’s entire form, from his tattooed abs to his many metal legs. 
“Don’t patronize me,” he warned. “I called you for a purpose.”
“You’re the one who called me?” you challenged in mock disbelief. “Shit, what’s the galaxy coming to?”
Maul inhaled sharply. Your biting tongue was going to have to be a workaround. Maybe after he got his revenge, he would cut it off and make you eat it. 
“I have a task for you.”
Your hands shoot up defensively, like you were surrendering with a shrug. “Sorry,” you quipped. “You’re not really my type. No offense.”
Oh, Maul hated you. That was fine with you though. You hated him right back. 
“It’s nothing of the sort,” he gritted. You could’ve sworn he was offended to even be accused of wanting you. His loss. “How would you like a chance at revenge?”
Revenge? Oh, you liked that word. Spending time as a Sith made the word into a bit of a turn on in truth. Maul knows this, and watches one of your eyebrows twitch upwards in curiosity. “I’m listening.”
A tight, muted smirk creeps over Maul’s lips. He’s tantalized the fish. Now time to catch it, and finally bring it in. “What if we were to take on the Sith? We could rule together. Kill Kenobi... kill the Emperor.”
It was a rather interesting proposition. You had not grown fond of the Emperor since your time away, and you were often dreamed about impaling him with your own blade. 
“Why would I help you?” you ask instead, your arms returning to their guarded, crossed position. 
Maul scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you help me? W- I could offer you the galaxy! You can finally get your revenge on those who stole from you!”
“I could do that myself right now,” you countered. “You’re the one who replaced me. You’re the one who took my life from me. Isn’t that right, Darth Maul?”
Maul hadn’t been expecting this reaction. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
In short, you cut off one of Maul’s legs after an epic duel. (Well, it was epic on your end. He was a bit sloppy.)
“You’re a bitter little fuck, aren’t you?” you asked as you stood over him. The loss of his legs had destroyed the mans remaining pieces of balance, causing his legs to trip over each other unevenly. 
Maul growled at you like an animal. It almost turned you on. “I offer you power- and this is how you repay me?”
“Don’t pout,” you told him. “I promise, you’re still the most handsome man in the galaxy.”
“I... hate... you.”
“Hurtful,” you said with a fake frown. “Very, very hurtful.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After that, you and Maul actually liked each other better. 
The hatred was still there. It probably always would be. But now you had a grasp of the others personality, and you knew what drove him. 
Clearly, the zabrak was on the verge of insanity from the loss of his bottom half. He was motivated by revenge and anger and passion, resulting in growls and erratic spasms. As annoying as it was that seeing him was a reminder of everything you had lost, you admired his... what’s the word? Spirit? Sure. You admired his spirit. You liked the anger, and you liked his little scoffs. 
On the opposite end, Maul now understood that you were both a powerful ally, and powerful enemy. You were skilled in dueling and a quick thinker. Your mouth was annoying, but he had already addressed that issue in his mind. You hadn’t killed him, so you didn’t really want him dead. This was a spark of hope. 
You had one or two quick conversations before you left the planet. You were sure to flip him off with a smirk before disappearing. Maul was too out of it to notice. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Eventually, you would help Maul get revenge on Kenobi. 
He and his brother ran into you while you were floating in space. Your ship had lost power a while ago, and you were quick to run out of stale food. You were exhausted. You were done. You slumped in the corner by the cockpit, waiting for death to take you. 
Ah, who cares? You had done your best. You had a good run. Dying was completely fine with you by now. What had you left to live for? You were no longer a Sith. You had no means of taking your revenge. You had no loved ones. There was truly no point in sticking around, so the only thing left to do was wait. 
But Savage insisted on searching your ship. The large, brooding man lumbered in, looking around several times before beginning to roughly grab at things. You saw yellow skin out of the corner of your eye, but you were too focused on dying to actually care. The flash of red skin, however, brought you great concern. 
Maul trailed behind his brother. Beside him, he looked so lanky and lithe. The new metal legs and talons made him clanking sounds against the floor. His horns were back to their original state now, as a symbol of his mental state. Still not good, but clear at least. 
The zabrak sensed you through the force, and then sniffed the air a few times. 
“What is it, Brother?” Savage asked. 
“I smell a disgusting presence. One that I’d almost forgotten about.” His yellow eyes dropped to where you were on the floor, and he smiled slyly. 
Savage drew his red saber. “Do you want me to kill her, Brother?” asked the giant. 
Maul raised a hand to stop his relative. “No,” he said, eyes still trained on you. “I have... much better plans for her.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
So, you aided Maul in confronting Kenobi. Savage had sustained an injury at the Jedi’s hand, and fallen unconscious. This forced you to do the work of two people, but it was no matter. You knew how to handle a double bladed saber, and you knew how to handle Assaj Ventress.
“Ah, Carisus,” the woman hissed with a smirk. “We were all beginning to think you had died.”
“Flattered you���d think I’d be so lucky,” you said back. Then the two of you fought, but it wasn’t to truly kill. You had more in common than you acknowledged, and there was no reason to kill each other. It was pretty fun, actually. 
Maul and Kenobi, however, were a different story. 
You understood, of course, why Maul had such a hatred. He felt that the Jedi had robbed him of his destiny and his future with one simple swipe, and it was both embarrassing and angering to think about. It filled him with an indescribable rage. You had felt the same towards Maul at some point. You were angry he had taken so many opportunities from you. You felt cheated on. You stopped feeling that way when you stopped caring about everything. 
So, Maul was doing his best to kill the man. In, conclusion, he did not succeed. 
“Well, that went well,” you said after. Maul snapped his eyes to you angrily, and thought about all the ways to get rid of you right then and there. He also did not succeed on that front. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You disappeared for a while after this meeting, showed up before Mandalore, and then disappeared again. 
Every time Maul and you fought, or teamed up to fight against something, his respect grew for you. You were talented. Powerful. Sometimes, your little sarcastic quips were pretty good, despite the annoyance. You weren’t so bad. 
You became willing to admit that Maul was somewhat bearable. He was awfully attractive, but that didn’t make up for his inconvenient personality. But sometimes, he would make a joke back that got you pretty good. He showed a real care for his brother, which struck you as odd. The Sith always turned on each other, and neither of them seemed to consider this. 
When you came back to Mandalore for the first time, Maul had told you he had big plans to take over. 
You did believe Maul could do it. He was intimidating enough to manipulate people into doing his will, and he was smart enough to know how to do it. Still, you very sarcastically told him, “Good luck with that”. Then you fucked off on the other side of the planet for a while. 
You returned out of hiding unwillingly, knowing you would need then yourself to confront a problem of yours. 
Recently, a few Jedi had been on your tail. They were asking about you, tracking you to Mandalore. It had been about five years since you were presumed dead, but whispers traveled fast. If Sidious learned of this, you were done for. You were not powerful enough to take him alone, but that’s for later. You were currently not powerful enough to fend off four Jedi on your own. They would’ve overwhelmed you with exhaustion after a while. 
But if you had a partner helping to fend them off... the chances of survival were much better. It probably would’ve helped if that partner was skilled, possibly trained in using a double bladed lightsaber. If they knew how to go up against a Jedi... it would all be rather peachy. 
So of course, you reluctantly approached Maul. 
“This gonna be your throne room?” you asked as you glanced around the hall. Maul looked over at you, and shooed the man he was talking to away. You found it a little funny, although most people would’ve described it as ‘rude’. 
“Ah,” Maul said, tutting his tongue. “I was expecting you.”
You narrowed your eyes from your lack of patience. “Remind me when I asked.”
Maul looked you up and down, orbs sticking to your chest a little too long. “Yes. This will be my throne room.”
“It’s nice,” you said honestly. You liked the big, tall windows and how the light looked when it shined through. You liked how the blockish throne looked at the end of it all. Funny, you thought, how the ruler can make the whole room feel different. It would’ve felt so bright and calm under Satine’s rule, but under Maul’s, it would be menacing. 
Maul’s eye twitched. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Oh, my beloved,” you teased. “I can think of hundreds of things you could do for me.”
“Let’s keep it at about five.”
You smiled. Maul sort of wanted to smile too, in his own way. But then your lips snapped back to neutral and you rolled your eyes. “I need your help.”
To say the zabrak was filled with joy would be an understatement. He was overwhelmed with happiness. Filled to the absolute brim with euphoria and satisfaction alike. His stomach swelled with butterflies and he would’ve been blushing if he was able to. All this was out of gratefulness that you were suffering enough to come to him. 
“Say that again,” Maul demanded. 
“Over my dead body.”
Maul’s smirk grew and his eyes darkened. “That can certainly be arranged, my love.” 
Something pricked in your stomach- something you chose to ignore. “You always were the gentleman. Please don’t make me say it again.”
Maul really, really, really wanted to. The thought of the high and mighty, independent you needing help from someone you so obviously hated... it gave him a bitter semi hard on. It was splendid. 
But, he decided against it. He’d have plenty of more opportunities to ruin your life. “What troubles you?” he asked in a condescending tone. 
Your signature snark returns to you. “How do you feel about killing Jedi?”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Maul found it entertaining to kill Jedi with you. While it wasn’t Kenobi he was fighting, it still felt like a good blow against the Jedi and their precious, corrupted Republic. It felt like a sort of tamed revenge. 
You were proving yourself to be more and more desirable for him to have in his life. While you weren’t a constant by any means, and nothing would stop him from being aggravated at your rivalry, it was enjoyable to watch you get your vengeance. You were a good fighter, and you looked good doing it. 
You, as much as you hated to admit it, thought Maul looked good fighting too. He was not only impressive in combat, but satisfying to watch become acrobatic and sweaty. It aroused something inside of you, something the pesky Jedi would never understand. 
“My,” Maul tutted as the last Jedi crumpled in on himself. “Forgive me for saying so, but I believe we make quite the team.”
You looked over at him, observing the zabrak. Scarlet skin, onyx markings, horns that were practically begging to be held onto. Perhaps Maul wasn’t so bad. Of course, he had ruined your future as a Sith, but it was possible he hadn’t ruined every future. Maybe there was a future where the two of you got along. Maybe there was a future where his plan to take Mandalore worked out, and he would become King. Maybe there was a future where if he asked you to be his Queen, you would not decline...
Your red saber flickers to a close. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, dearest.”
“Oh, but how could I not?”
You gave him a genuine crooked smile for a few seconds, before it evaporated into the air. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After that, there was a string of assassination attempts on Maul’s life that he knew was you. It wasn’t serious, though. Again, if you had truly wanted him dead, he probably would’ve been. Instead, he saw it as a twisted little game of cat and mouse- though neither of you could say who was playing the role of the cat and who was playing the role of the mouse. Maul knew you saw it as a game too. 
That was what your relationship was like. You were never a constant in Maul’s life, but he could guarantee you were to show up at some point. And while you aggravated each other to no end, there was a thin, but noticeable layer of respect and admiration. If you squinted, you could even see a coat of- dare you say it?- attraction. 
Like poetry, it was. 
Because through all the enjoyment you received from watching each other struggle and stumble, there was also enjoyment in being together. Working together, fighting together, just maybe ruling together. It was your own way of showing affection, as poisonous and evil as it was. 
This was shown before the siege, after Maul got his much beloved revenge. By now, he was thriving as King, and you had heard stories of how things happened in that throne room. You had only heard about how the man would relax on his throne has he dealt out death and judgement. He always had been a romantic man. 
Maul didn’t actually know where you were, these days. He knew you had resided on the other end of Mandalore for a while, but there had been rumors of a shadow woman leaving the realm. Wherever you were, your attempts on his life had slowed, and you were not so much of a pestering fly. He had been too busy and full of pride to entirely miss you, but he had wondered. Maul knew, at least, that you were alive. 
That’s why you were here now, giving him one of those famous erections. 
In turn, you were gifted with an annoying amount of slick at your core that you would not be addressing. 
“Well, well,” he purred from his throne. Maul sat all too comfortably upon it, irking something within you. It seemed that his plan to take the planet had worked out afterall, though his brother was nowhere to be seen. “What do we have here?”
You stopped a few feet from the kings spot, taking the sight of him in. It made you proud, in a way, to see Maul in a position of power. It turned you on to think about all the vile ways he could have earned it. “I come in peace.”
One of his eyebrows perked upwards in interest. “Ah, yes. I was beginning to wonder why you had stopped attempting to poison my drink.”
“Me?” you retorted, feigning innocence. “I would never. Especially not to a wasted Sith such as yourself.”
The twitch of his eye said it all. A satisfying snap ran through you. The slick between your legs increased. “Do not forget that this Sith was the one that took your place.”
Maul paused, squinting his eyes as he relaxed back in his seat. “Still something tells me you did not come here to speak in casualties.”
You inhaled, readying yourself. This was going to hurt. 
“I need your help.”
The erection increased. 
Maul scoffed. “I’m sorry, I think I must’ve misheard you. What did you just say?”
“I’m not saying it again,” you snapped. Then your voice softened and your shoulders tensed further. “I’ve been having... visions. Something is going to happen, Maul. We’re all in danger.”
Maul knew of what you spoke of. He had seen it himself. “And how would I help you with that?”
“I fear my life is in more danger than most. I’ve grown ill.”
Maul examined you up and down, though this time not out of appreciation. His orbs were searching for any signs of an ailment, instead of any signs of torture. 
It would not have been noticeable to anyone else, but Maul could see the yellow tinge to your skin, the heavy bags under your eyes, the a hint of the weight you had lost. Yes, something was wrong with you.
His eyes widened slightly, then returned to normal. “How did this happen?” he questioned.         
You shrugged slightly, as if this was a normal part of life. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I don’t think I’m going to last very long. I just don’t want to go out like... this.” 
Maul watched you gesture up and down to your weak form. His first thought was that Sidious had somehow gotten to you, but that didn’t make any sense. You would’ve been dead and steaming from a lightsaber wound if that were the case. It occurred to him that it was not impossible for your mind to have been so heavy from the vision of the future that your body had begun to fail you, but he couldn’t think of a way to currently confirm it. 
“I will have to think about the offer,” he instead said stiffly. As attractive as you were, he would still relish in teasing you. 
“Ah, anything for your Queen,” you retorted.
That was essentially the last thing you had said to him before the purge. However, underneath it all, Maul knew that you really were his Queen. He would never tell you that, however, nor would he grant you the title. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Maul saw that you were captured, too. 
It was in the distance, on the battlefield. Those Clones had surrounded you, gotten a lucky shot in your leg. Then they bound you in ropes and tossed you into a ship just as they did to him. 
The fallen ruler found it difficult not to concern himself with your well being after that. He knew you would be fine, of course, you could handle yourself. But he didn’t know what was going to happen to him now, and if the worst happened to him, then the worst for you was likely to follow. 
Whether the Republic was going to deliver the worst to either of you would forever be a mystery. 
Your eyes opened with a jolt. Voices swam around your head painfully, ricocheting off the walls of your skull. It was all just how it happened in your visions- down to the word. 
At first, you didn’t mind that much. The force shifting in favor of the Dark side? Fine with you. But then the millions of voices cried out in terror and were silenced, and two soldiers walked into your cell. You knew that you were about to become one of those voices, and your eyes widened in realization. 
Maul did not care about the life of the Clones like that Togruta did. Anyone in his way would be cut down. He practically sauntered through the ship without a care in the galaxy, feeling relaxed as soldier after soldier fell to him. He did not know if Ahsoka had freed you as well, or even if you were still alive, until the side of a wall caved in on itself. 
Two men in stark white armor tumbled to the ground, dead. On the floor, covered in dust and rubble, you coughed weakly. At least you knew you were still powerful in the ways of the force- right? Wrong. You were weak physically, and every jolt of the ship and blare of the red lights was agony. You were not going to survive this, and Maul knew it. 
Without thinking, Maul bolted towards you. Down the wall, Clones had spotted you and raised their weapons. With a swipe of his hand, a metal shard cut off three helmeted heads. 
“What are you doing?” you asked through coughs. The explosion you had caused had caused several bouts of dust to enter your lungs and cloud your vision, making you feel somewhat deformed. 
Maul didn’t know how to say what he was doing. He flicked his wrist again, and a bigger metal shard zoomed in front of the both of you just in time to block oncoming blaster shots. 
“Maul!” you roared, angry. “Get out of here!”
Instead, the zabrak put a hand on your back, then lifted an arm of yours around his neck. He pulled the both of you off the ground slowly, wincing from a stray bullet knocking into a panel beside you. 
“Not without my Queen,” he growled back, warning you to shut up.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It took a lot of work and many more scars to escape that place. You knew that you had slowed Maul down with your injuries and your illness, but he had kept you with him anyway. Would you have done the same for him? What had washed over him?
As you sat next to him on the ship, watching his golden eyes stay glued to the stars in front of you, you leaned forward with pursed lips. The wetness of the kiss against his jaw caught him off guard at first, but the zabrak did not stop it. 
The story didn’t end here, but it instead faded out with the two Dark Jedi running away together. Running to find a future together. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
taglist: @omg-we-really-doo​ @chokemeanakin​ @anakinswhore​ why do I feel like I’m missing someone?
This is another thing I wrote on my phone at like 4am. Sorry for the spelling errors and dirty language. 
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prettyboylovemail · 3 years
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[Hana + Juzo] As Long As We’re Alive
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FINALLY! I finished this fic that I’ve been working on all week!
I recently rewatched the Danganronpa 3 anime and wanted to figure out how my S/I would fit into the new killing game! Including interactions with my favorite character from the anime cause I can’t help myself 👀
(Also, for a bit of context: This takes place following my S/I from DR 1 surviving the Hope’s Peak Killing Game!)
As such, this will include anime spoilers!! Keep that in mind!
I worked super hard on this, so I hope you guys enjoy!!
Also a big big thanks to @duncanlovemail​ for helping me do some final edits and tweaks!! ❤️
In a split second, her life flashed before her eyes.
There were some good memories, sure, but mostly bad ones — memories of the last killing game she’d been forced to play overshadowed her happiest moments. And now, laying on the floor, staring wide-eyed at the tip of a katana, she could only remember the moments where she’d been this close to death.
But this time, she didn’t think she’d get to make it out alive.
There was a brief rustling sound from somewhere nearby, but Hana barely noticed it. It sounded as if someone was walking by and she silently begged that it’d be an ally. But as the footsteps grew fainter, she realized that she didn’t have any real allies left, and that she was only going to be left for dead. 
The man behind the corner kept walking. He’d seen the fight, or rather, the one-sided attack, but he paid it no mind. With a scowl, he left Munakata to finish his work. Who cares how many insignificant people died? As long as he made it out alive, then Juzo would slaughter every other person here. If it meant that Kyousuke would be victorious, then he didn’t give a shit about the rest.
Then why?
Why did his chest tighten up at the sight? Why did he feel a twinge of guilt leaving her to die? It’s not like that girl was anyone special or important — just some rookie from another division — so why did he feel like a piece of shit as he turned his back on her?
“Dammit, Juzo, this isn’t like you,” the man muttered to himself through gritted teeth. “Get ahold of yourself and keep walkin’. It’s none of your business.” It wasn’t until the next thing he heard that he stopped in his tracks, listening.
“Please, I-I’m not on the side of despair! I d-don’t want to hurt anyone! Please, believe me!!”
The girl’s voice sounded desperate, like she was crying. Juzo swallowed thickly, trying to take another step, but feeling his entire body stiffen up. Her voice rang through his ears, echoing in the empty hallway, the sound piercing his chest like a knife. 
“PLEASE, DON’T KILL ME!”
The man’s fists balled up, squeezing every ounce of strength that he could muster.
Shit!
“Kyousuke!” Juzo’s voice boomed through the hall as he spun on his heel. He felt the weight of his entire body shift and slam to a stop in front of the scene. Munakata paused and glanced up at him with no change in his cold expression.
“What is it, Sakakura?”
“Don’t worry about that one!” Juzo stepped forward, placing himself between Munataka and the helpless girl, frozen on the ground. “Your target is Makoto Naegi, isn’t it? Why waste your time on a brat like her?”
“Why are you interrupting?” Munakata’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Have you fallen to despair, Sakakura?”
“Don’t be stupid, of course not. But you know as well as I do that it’d be useless to kill this girl. She’s just some random kid, she doesn’t have anything to do with your plan.”
“She’s a survivor along with Naegi and the others. She’s in cahoots with them and as such, must be eliminated.” The katana glistened as Munakata turned it towards him. “And I will kill anyone who gets in my way.”
Juzo sharply inhaled. Was it really worth it, saving this kid at the threat of being turned on himself? He sent a glare behind him, seeing the frantic eyes of the shaking girl beneath him. Her eyes begged for him to save her, but pleading normally didn’t work on him. He turned back to Munakata and grit his teeth.
“What the hell’s gotten into you, man? Do you realize who you’re pointing that blade at?” Juzo raised his voice slightly. “I’m on your side, but right now, we need to focus on the real objective!”
“This is the real objective!”
There was only a moment to react. Time seemed to slow as the blade was swung, but not at him. The katana grazed past Juzo and towards the ground. He felt his heart stop as he reached out and—
“AGH!!” Juzo grunted out loud as the pain of steel cutting through flesh surged through his hand. Blood poured from the wound and it took all his might not to flinch back. He turned towards Hana, cowering barely a foot below the blade, and yelled. “GO!”
She took a sharp breath and squirmed away from the line of attack, barely able to keep her balance as her legs pushed her backwards. “W-What are you doing?” she managed to ask with a feeble voice.
Juzo gripped onto the katana with his opposite hand, keeping it in place as to not cut further into his hand. “Don’t ask stupid questions! Get the fuck out of here!! NOW!” His voice blared through the halls, shaking Hana out of her daze. She stood as quickly as she could and ran, hastily turning the corner. 
“Sakakura! Why are you letting her escape?!” Munakata shouted. “You’re a traitor to the cause—”
“No! I’m not!! Just listen to me for once, god dammit!” Juzo pushed back against the sword, yanking his hand away from the blade and jumping out of range. “Naegi is still on the move right now! Once you get rid of him, you can exterminate the rest of these stupid brats, you hear me?” There was a pause. “I won’t get in your way again, but we’ve gotta track down that bastard Naegi first.”
Another pause as both men decided their next move. When Munakata backed down, Juzo did as well.
“You’re right.” Munakata sighed, lowering his sword and re-sheathing it.
Juzo let out a sigh as well. “Good. Now come on, let’s go search for the brat.”
“Alright…”
The two men walked down the empty hallways, searching, scanning every corner for an enemy. Neither of them said anything, and the atmosphere was only growing more tense with every passing minute.
“Kyousuke,” Juzo started, breaking the silence between them, “those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.” When he didn’t receive any response, he paused, before making an attempt to change the subject. “Hey, so—”
“What’s on your mind?” Munakata stopped
“Well, uh,” Juzo began, “Kimura’s been killed. Kizakura got poisoned, too. Oh, and Ando was stabbed by one of the survivor brats...” his voice trailed off. Munakata hadn’t reacted to a single thing he’d said and it was starting to throw him off. Did he care that their comrades were dying? Juzo glanced away. “I… just… thought you oughta know…”
“Tengan, as well.”
Juzo’s eyes widened, “No joke?”
Munakata’s voice was cold and unwavering. “I killed him myself.”
It took a moment to process what he’d said, but it was unmistakable. Kyousuke had murdered the chairman. Of course, Juzo was always on his side, but this… didn’t seem like him. And his best friend’s icy demeanor was really concerning him. He knew that Munakata was willing to do anything to achieve his goal, but this—
“Right, sure…” Juzo turned away, putting on a smile to hide his uncertainty as best he could. “Hey, that’s good! This is what we wanted, isn’t it? To purify the foundation.”
Munakata said nothing, just stared at his friend’s back as he continued.
“Heh. ‘Bout damn time. This baby’s in your hands now, chief. You’ve been promoted.” When he still received no response, Juzo continued further. “No one in their right mind is gonna contest it. The revolution’s over, and the spoils of war are all yours! I’ll help, of course. We’re gonna fix the Future Foundation! After that, the world.”
Finally, after a couple of moments, Munakata spoke. “The world, you say…” Juzo turned to face him. “Hey, Sakakura. We go back. You’ve been at my side for years in fact, since we were students.”
“Uh, yeah…?”
Munakata’s eyes closed. “We had our share of good times, the two of us, and Yukizome, of course. Eyes always on the future. Three friends intimately bound together by the same ideals.”
Juzo paused.
“Our mentors were supportive. Tengan always found the time to give me advice. I held firm that the world could change. That I could be the one to change it.” Munakata balled his fist, opening his eyes, but kept them focused down. “That conviction hasn’t left me. It’s as strong as ever…”
“Yeah, sure…” Juzo also looked away, “Hey, it’s strong in me too, ya know. Always has been.” He returned a determined gaze to his friend. “Backing you up’s been the whole point of my life. I take a lot of pride in throwin’ down for your ideals.”
“I know you do… And you’re right, my friend,” Munakata said with a heavy expression. “Without your unwavering support, I would’ve never made it this far.”
There were a couple moments of silence before Juzo spoke up again. “Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay?” His heart began to race. Why did he suddenly feel so nervous? Was it because he was finally going to say it? Finally going to tell Kyousuke how he’s always felt? Or… was it something else? Something more… disconcerting…? “To be totally honest with you—”
“Enough!”
And in a flash — before he could even react — a sharp, searing pain surged through his stomach as Munakata’s fiery blade pierced through his midsection. He coughed, blood erupting from his throat and filling his mouth with the revolting taste of iron before spilling from his lips. The smell of burning flesh filled the air in an instant.
What…?
“K-Kyousuke…”
Blood quickly spread from the wound and in the next second, Juzo’s feet gave way beneath him and he collapsed onto the cold ground. He lay there in agony as the severity of the situation hit him. He choked and gasped for a breath, craning his neck, struggling to look up at the man who’d betrayed him. “W-What the hell, man? Why… would you… do this?”
Munakata’s voice was just as cold and uncaring as it was before, and it sent a shiver down Juzo’s spine as he lay on the floor beneath him.
“You know why. You know exactly why.”
And with that, Munakata turned… and left. His words hung in the air over Juzo, who lay face down, cursing himself as he felt his senses begin to weaken. He didn’t bother to watch his friend leave him there. He couldn’t bear the sight.
Why did it come to this? 
Dammit!! Why?!
Then everything faded to black.
Hana staggered through the halls, dragging her injured ankle beneath her. It’s not that bad, she told herself, as long as she could keep moving. As long as she was still alive. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier, when Juzo had saved her life. It’d been almost two hours since then, and the next time limit was approaching soon. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled.
Why was she so useless?
Even in the previous killing game, she couldn’t do anything to protect her friends. She couldn’t save those she cared about. She just had to stand by and watch as the ones precious to her died brutal deaths. 
That included him…
Hana stopped and pressed her back to the wall behind her as the tears she’d been trying so hard to hold in fell down her cheeks. Why did she have to think about him right now? The girl felt her knees weaken, and she slid down to the floor with a heavy breath. Here she sat again, completely powerless to stop the deaths happening around her, unable to do anything besides cry. She despised her weakness. 
It might be better if I just sit here… and wait for someone to come and kill me…
As if on cue, the sound of footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts. One? No, two people, she guessed. Were they enemies? Friends? Hana’s thoughts raced. Should she run? Stay put? What would she do if someone attacked her again? Was… it even worth fighting back?
It wasn’t until she heard the sound of familiar voices that she stopped.
“Kyousuke, those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.”
Juzo? And Munakata is with him?
Hana froze up in a cold sweat. Juzo had saved her once, but he was still loyal to Munakata. If they were still together now, then— Her hands began to shake. He wouldn’t spare her again.
The sound of footsteps stopped as the two men continued talking just around the corner. Hana wondered if she should run, but her body remained stagnant, completely paralyzed.
“Tengan, as well”
“No joke?”
“I killed him myself.”
Munakata had gotten to the chairman already? Then, there was nothing stopping Munakata from killing everyone else too. Had he already killed Makoto too? Hana kept listening, as silently as possible.
“Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay? To be totally honest with you—”
“Enough!”
The sound that came from around the corner was enough to make Hana’s blood run entirely cold. The sound of metal plunging through flesh. The sound of Juzo crying out in pain. A heavy thud. 
No way…
There’s no way…
“Why… would you… do this?”
“You know why. You know exactly why.”
Hana’s hands clasped over her mouth to keep herself from gasping. Her entire body shook and she felt dizzy. She knew that they weren’t aware of her presence, but hearing that felt… directed. If Juzo hadn’t stepped in to save her, if he’d just ignored her and left her to be killed, this wouldn’t have happened. 
Juzo is going to die because of me.
Just like before—
I can’t do anything.
This is my fault!
Footsteps faded as Munakata walked in the opposite direction. Once she was sure he was gone, she risked a glance around the corner and saw Juzo lying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding. Her legs moved on their own as she rushed to his side, frantically checking his wounds. Thankfully, the stomach wound had mostly cauterized due to Munakata’s blade, but he was still bleeding out slowly. Hana took off her jacket and tried tying it around his stomach in a hurry. “God, please,” she gasped. “Please don’t die.”
Once she’d finished securing her makeshift tourniquet as much as possible, Hana wrapped her arms around the man, attempting to pull him up just enough to move him, to no avail. She just wasn’t strong enough to lift him, and dragging him would only cause more damage. “Damn it…” the girl cursed, frantically searching the area. She didn’t want to leave him here, but there was no way she was going to be able to carry him to safety by herself. She had to get help or—
“I’m not going to let you die, I promise.”
Hana stood and ran down the hall, looking for anyone who would be willing to help. Maybe if she found Makoto. Or Koda— Izayoi should be with her, right? Juzo said that Ruruka had been killed, she could only guess that Koda’s the one who’d done it. If she found the two of them, they could help—
“Please. Please. Anybody.”
Hana’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a groggy dizziness overtaking her as her vision attempted to clear, and she scanned the area around her, disoriented from just having woken up. She glanced down at the bangle donning her wrist, still displaying the forbidden action she’d been cursed with, and let out a deep sigh. She’d made it through another time limit alive.
Thank God…
She filed through her memories, trying to remember everything before she’d dozed off. She’d found Juzo laying on the floor, bleeding, after his falling out with Munakata; that part was clear. But after that— Hana frowned— she couldn’t really remember much. She postulated that the time limit had stopped her from finding help, and she figured that if Juzo were still alive, that she wouldn’t know where to look for him. She could only hope that he’d survived.
The girl staggered to her feet, slightly swaying from a lack of balance, and stretched her arms into the air. “Alright,” she muttered to herself, “what to do now?” 
For a moment, she considered looking for an ally, someone who’d be willing to team up with her, but the thought was fleeting. With her forbidden action being as fragile and deadly as it was, Hana figured that it’d be best to stay alone for now, what with Munakata on the hunt. She counted the number of known victims in her head, trying to figure out who was left. 
Makoto, Kyoko, Hina, Koda, Izayoi, Munakata, Ryota, and, maybe, Juzo. 
Including herself, only nine people remained alive out of the starting seventeen. She grit her teeth. Too many people had died already. 
History was repeating itself.
Suddenly, there was a screeching sound, signalling the overhead speakers turning on. Hana glanced up, trying to find where the noise was coming from, before a voice came through. 
“Makoto Naegi.”
Munakata—!
“If you’re awake, I assume you’ve figured out what Kirigiri’s forbidden action was.”
She took a sharp breath and her body went rigid. Kyoko…? Her forbidden action? Hana’s eyes widened with shock. 
Is Kyoko dead?!
The voice on the speakers continued, but Hana was only half listening as she repelled the urge to throw up. The pit in her stomach only continued to grow as she heard Munakata call Makoto to confront him alone. He was planning to kill Makoto, she’d already known that; but now, with Kyoko dead, he would be falling right into Munakata’s trap, spurred on by emotion and his relentlessness to push forward. That’s just always how he is — how he was back then too — and Munakata would be anticipating that.
Hana rushed from the room she’d taken shelter in, scanning the halls for anyone else. If Munakata was able to use the loudspeakers, then he should be in the broadcasting room, so if she just avoided there, then she would be fine and she could get help to back up Makoto. It wasn’t much, but she had to try.
The walls around her were broken and beaten to hell, with blood splattered against the dark concrete and rubble scattered across the floor at every turn. The sight made her nauseous, but she had to keep moving. No matter what, she had to push forward too.
As she turned a corner, Hana bumped into something solid and lost her balance. Her ankle twinged with discomfort and she let out a pained groan as she fell backwards. “Agh… shit.” Noticing movement in her peripheral, her eyes darted up to see what, or rather who, she’d crashed into, and she was hit with a wave of relief.
“Damn it. Can’t get anywhere without runnin’ into one of you brats, huh.”
“Juzo!” Hana exclaimed, half from the reassurance to see him alive, and half out of worry that he was still loyal to Munakata. Although, she considered, after what happened between them, she couldn’t say for sure that he was still on Munakata’s side. “How are your injuries?” As the girl stood, her eyes drifted to his midsection; the tourniquet she’d wrapped around him was gone, but his wound wasn’t actively bleeding anymore. Juzo must’ve noticed the concerned look on her face, as he only scoffed in return.
“I’m fine. What’d’you care anyway?”
She made a dejected noise of acknowledgement and glanced away. “Sorry, is that a bad thing?” When he didn’t reply, Hana let out a soft exhale. “I saw what happened… between you and Munakata. I know it’s not really my place to intervene, but I couldn’t just… leave you there, ya know?”
Juzo sighed, a low growl escaping his throat, “So you saw all that.” He looked down at the ground, an expression on his face that was somewhere between anger and sadness. He clearly felt betrayed. Understandable, all things considered. “Fuck,” he cursed as he sat on a nearby slab of rubble, “this whole thing is such bullshit! How did it get this far?”
Hana stayed silent, watching the man in front of her. He was normally so aggressive and strong, but seeing his posture fall and his confidence crumble, it filled her heart with a nostalgic sadness. The same feeling that she had before, before that sickening execution, seeing someone so strong that she had nothing but admiration for collapse into weakness and despair. That feeling of helplessness as she couldn’t do anything but watch from the sidelines. It hurt to see the same thing happening yet again.
“I’m sorry…” Hana spoke gently as she sat beside him. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and keeping her gaze fixated on the floor. “...for what happened. If you hadn’t had to save me, he wouldn’t have—”
“Shut up.”
“Huh?”
“I didn’t have to save you. Hell, I thought that I should’ve let you die back there.” Juzo spat out his words with no hesitation. “Even I wondered why I bothered to step in.” Hana didn’t say anything, and only kept her eyes on the ground. “But what’s done is done. And even if I didn’t come to save your sorry ass, Kyousuke already had it in his head to betray me. Leaving you there wouldn’t have prevented anything.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Hana mumbled. “You two were so close. Why would he have tried to kill you if he didn’t think you were on Makoto’s side?”
There was a pause.
“That’s the question, ain’t it…” Juzo sighed. “I gave everything to show him I wouldn’t hesitate to kill for his ideals. I really would’ve killed that bastard Naegi with my bare hands to prove that.” He slumped over, raising his wrist to clearly see the band hanging from it, “If it wasn’t for this damn thing, I could’ve done it by now.”
“But would killing Makoto really have put a stop to all this?” the girl questioned, sending a glance over her shoulder.
“Dunno. Don’t really care either, at this point.”
Another pause, this one longer than the last.
“Then, let’s end this game.”
“Huh?” Juzo scowled at the girl. “What do you mean by that?”
Hana’s eyes glinted with determination, “The attacker is still out there, right? That’s why there’s a new victim after every time limit. So if we can find and stop the attacker before the next time limit happens, then the game should end!”
“Forget it. If you wanna get yourself killed, then go right ahead, but I’m done.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a shit what happens to the rest of you.”
“But you want this game to end too, don’t you? Or would you rather just stay locked up in here forever?”
“Tch. Even if you think you could find the attacker, how would you be able to stop them? They only show themselves when everybody’s knocked out, so how do you plan to fight them?” He gestured down to Hana’s leg. “And with your busted up foot, I doubt you’d be able to handle yourself if push came to shove.”
That seemed to make the girl back down, as her shoulders slumped in realization. “Well. I don’t know yet. But I still want to try, ya know?” Her eyebrows knitted together. “If I don’t do anything, it’s only a matter of time before everyone is killed off one by one. I don’t want to let that happen again.”
Juzo groaned in frustration, “Right, I get it. You’re trying to play hero just like Naegi, aren’t ya. Cause of that other killing game, right?” Hana kept quiet. “Jeez, you brats are all the same, thinkin’ you can change things by stickin’ your necks out. So damn annoying.” 
He gave her another harsh glare. “So what if I entertain your little suicide mission, huh? How do I know you aren’t just pullin’ a fast one on me, trying to get me to lower my guard?”
“What?”
“Say, hypothetically, that you’re actually the attacker. What makes you think that I can just blindly trust anything you have to say?”
Hana paused and stared at his face before sighing and closing her eyes. She moved her wrist into view, showing off her bracelet, and the message that circled around it in big, red letters. 
SUSTAINING AN INJURY THAT DRAWS BLOOD
“I haven’t shown anybody this,” Hana said quietly. “I’ve been too worried that someone would use it against me, so I’ve been avoiding everyone else.” Her voice was soft, yet full of resolve. “Earlier… even if I could’ve somehow escaped from Munakata alive on my own, one tiny cut from his blade would’ve been enough to do me in. If you hadn’t come when you did, I would’ve absolutely died... one way or another. All it would take is the smallest drop of blood, and I would be dead.”
“So, what?”
“So that means that I’m willing to put my trust in you. Maybe that’s a dumb decision, but I don’t want to doubt people anymore! And if I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”
“Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time. But unless we can get these stupid bracelets off, we can’t do shit. You’ve gotta accept that.” Juzo paused. This girl, as annoying as she could be, was persistent to say the least — more stubborn than he would’ve given her credit for. It reminded him of before, back when Chisa was still alive. She was persistent and determined, just like that. She wasn’t the strongest person, far from it. She was emotional and irritatingly cheerful sometimes, and the look that Hana had on her face right now looked exactly like her. 
Juzo glared at the girl for a moment, studying her expression for any hint of ulterior motive. It wasn’t like he thought she had it in her to play mind games, but with everything that's happened up to now, he couldn’t underestimate anyone. Not again. 
“Tell me something. I’ve been wondering for a while. ”
“Hm?”
“Why do you keep following me around, anyways? You’re not gonna confess your love or something, are you?”
Hana was clearly caught off guard by the question, but found herself giggling in reply. She brought up her hands to dismiss the implication. “No, no way. Believe me, I don’t have any interest in you like that.” She gave him a smug look. “Plus, I don’t really think I’m your type—”
“Get on with it.”
The girl laughed, “Got it, sorry.” A moment passed and she gazed off somewhere down the hall, a forlorn look gracing her features. “Well, it’s just that…”
“...?”
“...You remind me of someone. That’s all.”
Juzo gave her a questioning look, but she paid it no mind. “So that’s it, huh.” He’d be lying if he said the sentiment wasn’t at least a little bit mutual, but he’d rather die before saying that out loud. “Well, I couldn’t give a damn about that.”
“I know.” With a soft chuckle, Hana kept her eyes down. “It’s kinda silly, isn’t it? To try and keep someone’s memory alive by projecting them onto someone else… it’s stupid to think that’ll help anything. But even so… it’s given me a little bit of courage.” Hana faced Juzo with a bright, albeit somewhat forced, smile. “So it can’t be all bad, right?”
“Tch…” The man clicked his tongue in annoyance. “If you say so.”
The sound of a distant rumbling caught both of their attention and they shot to attention. Juzo jumped to his feet, while Hana’s entire body straightened up.
“That has to be Munakata! He should be fighting Makoto right now,” Hana exclaimed. “We have to help!”
“I told you to forget it! You’re already hurt. You shouldn’t even be walking around so much, much less trying to fight,” Juzo snapped back at her.
“But if I don’t, then Makoto’s going to die!”
“So be it! If he decided to confront Munakata, that’s his own damn business! This isn’t your fight to meddle in!”
“I’m not going to sit back and let another one of my friends get killed!” Hana shouted, standing on her wobbly legs. “If you’re going to still side with Munakata after all of this, then fine, but I’m going to try to help my friends!” She only made it a few steps before a hand gripped her wrist and forcibly yanked her backwards. 
“Don’t be stupid! Just stay here and don’t get in the way, otherwise you’ll end up dying too, you hear me?!” Juzo yelled, squeezing the girl’s arm tight so she couldn’t break free. “If you’re so fucking concerned, then I’ll handle it.”
“What are you talking about?” Hana asked, wincing at the pain in her wrist. 
“You said it yourself! The tiniest cut would be enough to kill you, wouldn’t it? So just find somewhere to hide and stay put.” He released her arm and the girl pulled back to rub the spot he’d grabbed. At this point, Juzo didn’t even know what he planned on doing, but all he knew was that this stupid girl was going to get herself killed if she tried to fight Munakata again. Regardless of how he personally felt about the matter, he knew that her determination would be useless in this situation. “You’ve already done enough, so just stay outta sight and don’t die, got it?!”
Hana stepped back, a confused look on her face, but ultimately didn’t make any more attempts to oppose him. She exhaled softly and nodded. 
“Okay.”
And without a second thought, Juzo ran off into the darkness.
Shit… Why’d I let myself get roped into this…?
Juzo breathed heavily, grasping at his sleeve, soaked in blood, as he staggered through the dark halls. He figured it was almost time for the next time limit, although he couldn’t be sure of that anymore. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the throbbing pain surged through his left arm, and he risked a glance down to where the bangle had once been. With his hand now gone, he was free from risk of being poisoned, but the cost of passing out from the pain wasn’t far behind him. 
“D-Damn...it…” he muttered through strained breaths, “This is… all ‘cause of… that girl…”
He thought back to their earlier conversation. He had no initial plans to take what she’d said to heart, not like this, but seems that today was full of surprises, wasn’t it? All that shit he’d said before was just a means of shutting her up at the time, but after pondering it for a while, he realized what he had to do.
He’d set off to find Munakata and Naegi, to stop them from fighting, by however he deemed necessary. Whether that be by stopping Kyousuke again, or by killing the brat that started all of this, he would end this damn game. It wasn’t until the beeping of his wristband caught his attention, to signal that the time limit was fast approaching, that he remembered Hana’s plan. As reckless as it was, he knew that if one of them were to be able to pull it off, it would be him. That’s when the solution to get rid of the bracelet came to mind, and if it took a drastic measure, then that’s what he’d do. So he endured through the pain, biting the fabric of his jacket, grinding it between his teeth as he did what needed to be done.
But now, as he wandered the empty halls, with only the ominous glow of red from the monitors to guide his path, he wondered if he’d made the right decision. He had barely any strength left, why waste it on trying to fight off the attacker when he should be preserving it just to stay standing? Bullshit...
That’s when he heard it, the sound of screaming echoing in the darkness. Was somebody getting attacked? It almost sounded like—
Juzo took off in a sprint, dashing through the hallways. Anger surged through his body like electricity, but he skidded to a sudden stop at the sight before him.
Makoto Naegi, kneeled on the floor, a knife poised to his throat. 
In a split second, Juzo was at top speed again, his strides slamming into the ground with every step.
I don’t think so, you little bastard!
One swing was all it took to knock the knife from the boy’s hands. He paused in confusion, looking around for a second before Juzo gripped him by the arm and raised him to eye-level, slamming his elbow to Naegi’s throat. He writhed and flailed under the pressure of being choked, but Juzo didn’t waver. 
“You’re the man who defeated Junko Enoshima. If you think I’m going to let you kill yourself, then you’re dumber than you look!” he growled, pressing his arm further against the boy’s neck. “You hear me, you little punk?! Not now. Not ever!”
After a few more seconds of struggling, Juzo released Naegi, letting him fall to the floor in a heap as the boy coughed and gasped for air. He looked up at the man in confused distress. “H-How are you even—?!”
Juzo picked the knife from the floor, gripping the handle. “You wanna die so bad, then allow me.” He raised the blade, fully intending to strike and end this right then, but stopped himself mid-swing when Naegi recoiled. He looked pathetic, like a small animal cowering in fear of its predator. Juzo scoffed and dropped the knife, his feet collapsing beneath him as his strength started to waver. “Dammit…”
“How are you still awake?” Makoto asked, staring at Juzo intently. That’s when the boy noticed the crimson-soaked sleeve and gasped, “Y-You cut off your arm?” He looked at the man with concerned eyes. “Well, that’s one way, I guess.”
“Figured I could make the scene before it happened…” Juzo muttered, his energy depleting quickly, “I could meet whoever’s behind this god-forsaken game face-to-face. Take out the attacker and be done with it.” 
Naegi’s eyes widened when he realized Juzo’s intention, and paused. “There is no attacker. There never was.”
“...Huh?”
“It was suicide. The victims— They were all brainwashed into killing themselves by what they saw on the monitors.” Juzo followed Naegi’s gaze up to the glowing monitor. “When the time limit was up, we were all knocked unconscious. But whoever was closest to a monitor got woken up by a special signal from their bangles. Awake and alone, they were subjected to a video. After that…” his voice trailed off, leaving the implication as it stands.
Juzo slumped over, his expression darkening. “Who did this? What sicko piece of shit thinks this is entertaining?”
“That, I don’t know. At least not yet.” Naegi raised a hand to his chin in thought. “But they wouldn’t even need to be here for it to work.”
“What are you tellin’ me? They could’ve set this up? Controlled it remotely?”
“Probably.” Naegi straightened up, sending a determined smile over in the man’s direction. “On the bright side, at least we don’t have to suspect each other anymore.”
Juzo could only laugh at what he was hearing. Rage boiled through his veins, and it took everything in him to keep himself in check. “So what are we supposed to do now? It’s all a shell game. We’ve been manipulated from some unknown other place. Killing each other like a bunch of animals.
“Yukizome. Gozu. Kimura. Some video brainwashed them into taking their own lives? All the horrible things we’ve done to smoke out the killer and it’s been us?!” Juzo gripped the handle of the knife in his fist once again, shaking with anger. He slammed the blade against the concrete, breaking it in half. “Son of a bitch!”
There was a long pause as Juzo took a breath and collected himself. Everything he’d done — everything he’d tried to prove — it was all for nothing. This entire damn game has been nothing more than a way for some bastard in a far-off place to enjoy a good show while they all chased their tails like a pack of rabid dogs. Juzo stood again, turning and taking a few steps down the hall.
“What are you doing?”
Juzo gritted his teeth. These fucking brats and their million questions. What did it matter what he did now? Why was everyone so concerned about him and whatever he was doing?! “I have somewhere to be,” he forced out. Really, he didn’t know where he was going to go, or what he was going to do. Nothing mattered anymore.
“Let’s end this game.”
He paused, stopped dead in his tracks. What the hell? Did all these survivor kids have the same brain, or was it just coincidence that this brat said the exact same useless shit that she did? Whatever, he didn’t care. He didn’t have to listen.
But of course, that didn’t stop the words from coming. “If we destroy all the monitors, that should do it,” Makoto urged. 
“Heh.” Juzo sent a glance over his shoulder. “You got any idea how many of those things there are?”
“B-But—”
“Don’t let me stop you. Just don’t expect me to help either.” With those words, Juzo continued walking. That’s right. It didn’t concern him. He didn’t give a shit what the others did anymore. But still, that uncomfortable twinge of guilt in his chest tugged at him. The same one he felt when he saved that girl’s life. Juzo tried to force the feeling down, but it stayed, regardless, and his feet stopped yet again. He remained quiet for another second before breaking the silence. “True story… I wanted you to die. I’d have gladly done it myself.
“See, I’m not a man who can just forgive and forget. I hated you. No, from the moment you walked out of Hope’s Peak High School alive, I loathed you. Despised you,” Juzo growled. “So, I’m not gonna lie, when Munakata told you to kill yourself, I thought, ‘it’s about damn time’.”
“But why?” came the feeble voice of the kid he hated so much, “I don’t…”
“Because…” Juzo glared back at him. “You defeated Junko Enoshima.” 
When he saw the confused look on Naegi’s face, he continued. “Yeah, that’s right. Bitch played me like a fiddle. I knew she was up to something, and I kept my mouth shut.” The anger he’d been feeling surfaced even faster as he balled his fist. “I had one job and I botched it. So this is the result…” Juzo raised his mutilated arm and gave the boy a pained smirk. “It’s all on me. I couldn’t stop everyone dying... I couldn’t kill you for Munakata...
“And in the end...” Juzo’s eyes narrowed, his eyes stinging and his chest throbbing, “he threw me away. Like an old pair of boots.”
“He was wrong! It’s the game!” Naegi called after him. “The man was fooled into thinking you’d gone over to the enemy!”
Juzo kept walking, gripping his injured arm as he stepped into the darkness.
“Tch… No kidding…”
And this time, he didn’t turn back.
“Dammit…”
He didn’t think anything mattered anymore. He knew that whatever he did at this point would ultimately be useless. But… even so…
“If I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”
He kept walking. Kept moving. Through the pain and the dizziness, he kept pushing forward. Was this because of that that girl said? Or because of the brat? Or were these his own thoughts? Juzo didn’t know anymore. With every blood-stained step, his breathing staggered. Every motion felt like a hundred bricks weighed on his shoulders. But he had to keep moving. As long as he was alive, then he could fight.
Juzo pushed on, making his way towards the breaker room. His movements were slow and heavy, but determined to make it there. As he stepped through the Monokuma-printed door leading into the hidden room, he scoffed at himself, at the effort he was making. “Well, damn. Guess I’m a Despair now…” he let out a dry laugh that came out as more of a cough. “Wish I could find the humor in—”
He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before his foot gave way beneath him, causing him to stumble forward and crash into the wall. A cry of pain erupted from the man’s throat as he collapsed and slid down the wall, leaving a bloody trail behind him. And as Juzo lay crumpled on the ground, bleeding out from the wounds he’d sustained, he smiled. “This is what I get for letting Enoshima off the hook…” Everything in him wanted to give up, wanted to close his eyes and fall into the depths of darkness right then. 
But he couldn’t die yet. Not until he’d finished what he said he’d do. 
Not until this fucking game came to a bitter end.
With the last quarter of strength he could muster, he pushed himself onto his knees, draping his body against the breaker room door in order to force it open. He gazed down at the long line of switches. “Always been too much of a softie,” the man grinned to himself.
Juzo reached up, struggling to move through the crippling agony, and grabbed the first switch.
“...‘Least that’s what they’ll say about me.”
Hana sat alone with her knees pressed to her chest. It’d been too long, and the silence was starting to drive her crazy. What was everyone else doing right now? Was anyone else even alive? The thoughts that plagued her mind had continued to worry her, but she forced them down.
Everything’s fine. We’re going to make it out of here. All of us.
Then suddenly, everything went black. Hana jumped, startled by the sudden change, but relaxed slightly when the emergency lights came on. The room she’d hidden in was then illuminated a deep red, and the girl stood up to investigate. “Does this mean…?”
She peeked out into the hallway, not seeing anyone nearby. The girl stepped out and her foot swelled up in pain at the sudden movement, but she didn’t stop. Hana staggered along the wall, looking for anyone else to confirm what she’d thought. However, she didn’t have to wonder for much longer. With one final beep, the wristband that’d acted as her shackle for the entirety of the game snapped and fell to the ground. Hana touched her wrist, finally freed from the burden of death, and she let out an exasperated breath.
Is the game finally over?
It only took a couple minutes of walking to notice a few drops of blood on the ground. Her eyes followed the trail, seeing the drops become larger and more frequent as they moved down the hall. The dots began to connect in her head, but she shook them away, not wanting to assume the worst. She followed where they led and was brought to a room she hadn’t been to before. 
“A library?” she questioned aloud, seeing multiple bookshelves lining the walls, “Or maybe a study?” Her inquiries were cut short, however, at the sight of a body coming into view from behind the couch. Hana let out a gasp at the startling sight. Ruruka lay on the ground, a singular gash across her neck, a puddle of blood recently drained from the wound. Her eyes were wide; her expression twisted in shock and pain. She must’ve been caught off guard, Hana assumed.  A closer look revealed something glinting from inside the corpse’s mouth, what looked like a piece of blue candy on her tongue.
They did say she’d been stabbed, but did Koda really do this? She was never the type to murder someone in cold blood, even if it was someone she hated.
As brutal as the scene was, Hana gulped heavily and attempted to move past it as best as she could. Ruruka probably deserved it in all honesty, as horrible as that sounded, but that didn’t make seeing her dead body any easier to handle. Once she met up with Koda and Izayoi later, she could ask them about it, but she shook her head to rid herself of the image. Ending the game was the top priority. So she continued deeper into the room.
The trail of blood, now in large puddles, led into another area, a space behind one of the bookshelves that’d been pried open, it looked like. Hana glanced inside to find a hidden room, one a lot darker than the previous one. She stepped inside, following the trail further until she entered a final door. And when she peered inside, she froze. 
That’s…!
Slumped against the back of the room, one hand on the final switch, lay the familiar figure of Juzo. She rushed to his side to check for any signs of life. Considering the amount of blood he’d lost on the way here, it was unlikely that he was still alive, but—!
“Oh God…” Hana stared into his face, eyes closed and a peaceful smile gracing his lips.
She checked his mouth for breathing. Nothing.
“No, no, damn it.”
Checked his neck for a pulse. Nothing still.
“God, please…”
She pressed her ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat, every movement more frantic and worried than the last. Tears stung her eyes.
I can’t be too late!
But then—
Bu-bump.
A heartbeat. Faint, but still barely there.
Bu-bump.
Another one, even fainter than the last.
He’s still alive—!
Hana stood, her body shaking and her breathing ragged, and dashed from the room as quickly as her legs could move. “I promised that I wouldn’t let you die, dammit! I can’t fail now!”
She ran and ran and ran, turning every corner at top speed, searching for anyone who could help. Anybody. That’s when she heard the faint sound of voices at the end of the hallway. She didn’t know who, but she didn’t care. “Help!! Anyone, please help!!” she shouted into the darkness, praying that someone would hear her and come to her aid. 
“Fujiwara?” a voice echoed back.
As she ran farther down the hall, multiple people came into view, and tears of relief spilled from her eyes. The figures of her friends, as well as a platoon of soldiers that’d presumably been ordered to search for survivors, relieved the immense weight on her shoulders. “Makoto! Byakuya!” 
Finally, finally. They were saved.
“There you are!” Makoto exclaimed. “We hadn’t heard from you all day, we thought you were dead!”
“Don’t worry about me right now! Juzo needs help!” Hana shouted with as much conviction as she could muster. “He’s in the breaker room! He doesn’t have much time left, but he’s still alive!” She turned to Byakuya and his squad of reinforcements, in tears. “Please, we have to save him!”
Byakuya paused for a moment, taking in the information, before barking an order to his crew. “Three of you, follow Fujiwara to the breaker room and ensure Sakakura’s safety! The rest of you will follow Munakata and Naegi to stop Mitarai! Now! Go!”
“Yes, sir!”
The sun peered through the blinds into the hospital room, shining more light on the already blindingly white room. Juzo stirred a bit, then begrudgingly opened his eyes with a strain. He attempted to sit up, but the overwhelming pain caused him to fall backwards onto the bed.
“I wouldn’t attempt to move for a while. You won’t be fully healed for quite some time.”
“E...Eh?” Juzo struggled to see who was speaking to him, and squinted to see blonde hair and the shine of glasses being pushed up the bridge of the man’s nose. “Y-You’re… that rich kid… from the Hope’s Peak survivors…” he forced.
“Byakuya Togami, Future Foundation: 14th Division,” he scoffed, crossing his arms hastily over his chest. “I’d be offended that you don’t remember who I am, but I’ll give you a pass due to your injuries.”
“What are...you doing here? Why am I… still alive?”
Byakuya sighed, “Well, to answer the first question, it’s been about 4 hours since the killing game ended. I’m only passing through on official business to check in on the status of the remaining survivors. Naegi and the other members are also here on business as well, albeit in separate rooms.”
“Tch…”
“And as for the latter,” Byakuya continued, sending a glance over his shoulder, “this one practically begged me to save your life.”
Juzo followed the blonde’s eyes to see a sleeping girl sitting hunched over in a chair in the corner of the room. The man clicked his tongue and pressed his head back into the pillow. 
“She’s the one who found you, barely breathing, and ran all the way to come find someone and led my squad back to your location. Once my team brought you into custody, we rushed you to the medical tent. It’s a miracle that you survived, honestly.” Byakuya sent a sharp glare in Juzo’s direction. “The fact that you’re still alive is extremely lucky. I’d be sure to give her your thanks when given the opportunity.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya,” Juzo sighed, but ultimately didn’t say anything else. 
“Well, now that you’re awake and are showing no signs of falling into comatose.” Byakuya stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It seems my work here is finished.” The man turned towards the door, taking a couple strides before stopping. “We’ll have to hold another meeting again soon to discuss the plans of the Future Foundation, but I would rest while you can. We’ll take care of everything for now.” And with that, Byakuya left. 
Juzo’d only been half listening, honestly, but he got the general gist. Still, he closed his eyes, processing everything he’d heard. The killing game was over, and he’d actually survived it. He had fully expected to die at the time, and had accepted that fact, but he made it out alive, thanks to her. He mentally laughed at himself. It was always thanks to her, wasn’t it? The only reason he was even able to end the game in the first place was because of her saving his life after being stabbed. And it was because of what she said that he kept fighting to the end.
I’m so damn pathetic, aren’t I? When did I get this soft…?
Then he drifted back to sleep.
Time will always pass. No matter the hardships, the tears, and the pain, life will always go on. Maybe the memories wouldn’t fade right away, not for days or weeks, even months or years, but with every passing day comes a new opportunity to make the best of your situation. 
Bad memories may linger, but life moves forward.
Hana stepped into the sun, a gentle breeze blowing wisps of her hair into her face. It’d been a week since then, and things have been getting back to normal as quickly as possible. The Future Foundation was still working on rebuilding their headquarters, as well as it’s credibility with the public, and they were still trying to figure out what to do with its remaining members. But despite all of that, the girl smiled at the bright blue sky above her.
They’d made it. Through everything, they’d made it.
“You seem awfully cheery for someone still hobbling around on one leg,” came a man’s voice from behind her. She recognized it instantly.
“What are you doing moving around out here, Juzo?” Hana turned where the voice was coming from. “You aren’t fully healed yet, ya know.”
Juzo scoffed, “I got tired of layin’ around in that stuffy room every day. Can only take so much boredom before I end up wanting to off myself.”
The girl put her hands on her hips and sighed, but made no objection. “Geez. If you keep pushing yourself, you’re only gonna have to stay longer.” She gave him a smirk. “Well, whatever. Just don’t get caught by the hospital staff.”
“Doesn’t matter to me. It’s not like I’m leaving the hospital grounds. Just gettin’ some air is all.”
“I know, but still.” She gestured for him to sit on a nearby bench and he reluctantly obliged, to which she joined him as well. After a couple moments of silence, gazing off into the distance, Hana spoke quietly. “Things have gotten pretty crazy lately, huh…” she muttered, “never expected it to end up like this…”
Juzo stared at the girl as she spoke before closing his eyes and leaning back into the bench. “I get what you mean. For one thing, I figured I’d be dead by now.” When Hana didn't reply, he changed the subject. “Did you guys ever figure out what happened to Munakata? Or where he is?”
She shook her head. “No, we didn’t,” the girl answered, “he wandered off somewhere and told us not to follow him, from what I heard. Mentioned something about bearing his own cross. I don’t think he’ll be coming back to the Future Foundation anytime soon.”
“Damn it,” Juzo huffed under his breath. “He’s always been like that. Thinking that he has to take on all of the burdens alone. He’s such an idiot.”
“I don’t think it’s stupidity.”
“What’re you gettin’ at?”
“I think he’s concerned about you and the others in his own way. ‘Course, I can’t say for sure, since I didn't really know him that well. But it seems to me like he recognizes that what he did was wrong and wants to put some separation between himself and the organization to allow for healing. 
“For both the Future Foundation and also for himself,” Hana spoke gently, “I think he needs this time alone to reflect. We shouldn’t urge him to come back if he isn’t ready to.”
“Don’t get all preachy on me,” Juzo retorted. “I know all that already.” 
The girl airily laughed a little, “Sorry…”
“So,” Hana leaned back, pulling one knee up to her chest, “what are you gonna do now? After you’re discharged, I mean.”
“Hell if I know…” the man sighed. “‘Dunno what I’m supposed to do now.”
The girl hummed in response. “Well… what do you want to do? Plan on looking for Munakata?”
“No. If he decided that he’d rather be alone, then I have no reason to chase after him anymore…” Juzo’s eyes fell to the ground. Before Hana could respond, he continued, “What about you? What are you gonna do now that the Future Foundation’s in shambles?”
“Hm, I don’t know…” She placed her chin against her knee, thinking deeply, “I think I just want to go home… wherever that is now…”
“Yeah,” the man let out a small breath, letting his gaze drift into the distance, “same…” After a few minutes, Juzo spoke up again, breaking the silence. “Hey.”
“Hm?”
He paused, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to mentally piece together the right words, “Why…’d you bother savin’ me back there? I get the first time was to pay me back for helpin you out against Munakata, but—”
“Because… I promised I wouldn’t let you die.”
“Huh?”
Hana brushed a few strands behind her ear and looked down, “I made that promise to myself and I… couldn’t break it, no matter what.”
“What’s up with that?” Juzo snapped back, “You got some kinda hero complex?”
She gave him an embarrassed smile and an empty chuckle, “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…” she hesitated for a second, “someone I knew was… very stubborn about keeping any promise he made. And I guess that sorta just… rubbed off on me.”
“I see how it is,” the man replied, “one of the kids from the Hope’s Peak Killing Game, right?”
A light blush appeared on Hana’s cheeks as she pressed her lips together and fidgeted her thumbs in her lap. “W-Well…”
“Lemme guess, you had a crush on the guy. Then he died, so now you feel like you’ve gotta keep up his ideals in his place,” Juzo said frankly, not wavering for a second. “Sound about right?”
The small squeak that the girl made, along with her face turning a deeper shade of red by the moment, promptly answered his question. “T-That obvious, huh?”
“Yeah, kinda,” Juzo sneered. “But whatever, it’s not like I care to pry into some brat’s love life.”
Hana glanced away, leaning her cheek against her knee once again, “I know I mentioned it before, but you kinda reminded me of him, ya know. I think that’s another reason why I told myself that I had to save you, no matter what happened.”
“Uh-huh?” Juzo paused, giving her a questioning look. “You’re still not gonna say you like me or some sappy shit like that, are you?”
“I already told you it’s not like that!” the girl huffed. 
“Just checkin’.”
“It’s more like… I dunno,” the girl thought for a moment, “you’re both so strong and aggressive and stubborn, but you’ve both got a soft side too. You care about your friends and are willing to do anything to protect those who are close to you. That’s something I really admire, so…”
“Tch, you don’t need to say anything else. I understand.” Juzo also looked away, an embarrassed expression on his face. “I’m not that big a softie.”
“I know, I know. But still…”
The two sat in silence for a while longer, watching a couple birds fly from their perch on a telephone wire. The wind blew softly. Even with all of the chaos happening around them, everything still seemed so peaceful. They still had a lot of work to do; the war against despair wasn’t completely over yet, but for now… 
Things were okay.
With a loud sigh, Hana stood. “Welp! Nothing’s gonna get done if we keep sitting around here.”
“Take it easy. Didja forget you’re still bandaged up too?” Juzo scolded. “You don’t need to push yourself either. Take your own advice for once, will ya?”
Despite Juzo’s harsh tone, Hana giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. I’m mostly healed now. You’re the one in a lot worse condition, but yet here you are still walking around.”
“I’m a lot more sturdy than you are. I can take it.”
“Mhm, sure. You don’t need to act all tough.”
“Shut it.”
“Got it, sorry,” she said with a dismissive laugh. “But, I should really be getting back to the others. Gotta check in on some official Future Foundation business before I go home.” The girl gave a bright grin before turning her back to him. 
Juzo paused before pushing himself up as well, leaning heavily on his crutch. “Right. Duty calls, I guess.” He watched her back for a moment. “Hey, kid.”
“What is it?”
“If… you ever need anything. Just gimme a call, alright?”
Hana smiled softly and nodded. 
“Okay!”
- END -
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buckstaposition · 4 years
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I cling to your lips like gloss (3)
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a Javier Peña x OFC story
also on AO3
author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie  👋
tags&warnings: spoilers for season 3, wonky timelines & odd pacing, drinking, swearing, mentions of sex work, mentions of canon-typical violence, Miss Salome is back!, some mild domesticity, partial nudity, a lil’ bit of sexual & romantic tension, soft&protective!Javi today tomorrow and forever
words: 8906 🙃🤡🙃🤡
summary: “The United States government is buying you a dress because you being at that party is of strategic importance to this investigation.”
Author’s note: Thank you SO SO much everyone who read, reblogged, and commented! It means so much to me and I want you to know that I read those comments and reviews at least every other day 
Also this chapter was originally going to feature more as I was planning to move into the actual plot of the season, but then it just got longer and longer and I wanted to keep it under 10k words so that has all been moved to the beginning of ch4 instead. Anyway, remember it’s okay to take breaks in between, stay hydrated, and enjoy!
Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries @fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83​ @cinewhore​ @maddoggrahaml​
(message me if you want to be added to the list)
beautiful moodboard made by @huliabitch​ 
Masterlist
Prologue • Chapter 1 - The Informant • Chapter 2 - A Wedding and Four Funerals
Chapter 3 - Swallow Pride and Anger
He made a habit of checking in with Miss Rivas regularly, usually on Wednesday evenings. It was late enough in the week for her to have gathered something to tell him, and for him to need interactions beyond dealing with pissy bureaucrats and the chorus of 'yes boss'es from his agents. That and he made the conscious choice to never bother her on Thursdays, seeing as how often she'd come back from a work day in the double digits, only to rise again with the sun on Friday mornings for her frequent trips back to Medellín. 
On this Wednesday, his self-imposed cigarette embargo inside his office combined with a slow and frustrating day had led him to go back to his apartment at an uncharacteristically early hour. He threw his jacket, wallet and keys down on the table, then loosened his tie and grabbed a beer from his fridge. He took a slow pull from the bottle, allowing himself to slump a bit against the kitchen counter. This apartment, while never what he would call a home, was still a sanctuary of sorts, even if most days he only came here to sleep and change clothes. He finished about half the bottle before clicking the bent cap back on haphazardly and placing it back in the fridge. He checked his watch and decided that a shower would, if not make him feel better, at least wash off the stale dryness of the embassy complex's aircon. 
His hair still damp, he exited the bathroom about half an hour later. He padded across the floor barefoot, shuffling around the few rooms a bit, pulling on a clean t-shirt and preparing a small meal in the kitchen. He didn't have much except for the usual staples, chosen by how easy they were to prepare and by how effectively they would fill his stomach, rather than for any considerations of taste. The only thing he allowed himself to indulge in was the selection of fresh fruit he picked up at the street market down the road. By the time he'd gotten something in his stomach it was nearing seven. Javier reckoned she would be home by now and would have had enough time to settle in. He grabbed his fruit plate and trudged over to his wall-mounted landline phone. After placing the plate on the low side table, he dialled the satphone's number and waited for the line to connect. 
"Agent Peña, good evening!" The sound quality was much better than with those tinny phone cells. It allowed him to hear how pleased she sounded as she greeted him, and how slightly out of breath. 
"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Miss Rivas. I can call back later?" It occurred to him that she might be in the process of making dinner herself. 
"Oh no, it's alright!" He heard the shuffling of steps and the hum of music in the background. "Hang on, let me finish on the landline, then I'm all yours." She must have set the satphone down right next to her stereo system. He could hear music more clearly now, still distant like not all of it survived the transmission, but distinct enough to make out a string section paired with electric guitar and words in an unfamiliar language. 
"Interesting music selection." He mused as she came back on the line.
"Huh? Oh yes, Angelika let me borrow some of her tapes. Newly historical contraband from behind the Iron Curtain." She laughed quietly, and Javier thought of how for some of his former CIA colleagues, that might have been reason enough to drag her in for an interrogation. He sneered at the notion, glad it was no longer relevant. "Not that I understand anything, but that's why music is called the universal language, I suppose."
"Your German friend." Javier hummed thoughtfully. He'd had to look up what that Stasi remark meant, embarassingly enough. Despite the added information included, he'd been made to change it to 'Calí KBG' in his preliminary report on the matter. 
"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't convince her to help more. It's half the way she was brought up and half fear. I guess the thought of going up against a powerful drug cartel and helping the American government at the same time is just a bit too much. And with her and Julio now trying for a baby she just really doesn't want to risk it, you know?" 
"It's okay." Javier said reflexively, allowing himself to sit on the floor by his phone, his back against the wall. Angelika Florez-something-long-and-German-with-lots-of-umlauts that he wasn't even going to attempt to pronounce worked at the Calí phone company and would have been an invaluable asset, but then again she'd already placed herself in danger by allowing Diana to relay what she knew. Javier wasn't going to force anyone to become an informant. "Anything new on your end?" 
"New corner office." 
"Nice." 
"Oh, very."  He heard more soft rustling over the line, as if she was moving around, and then some light clicking noises that might have been a large window or door being opened. "Miguel Rodríguez did stop by yesterday. Unannounced, of course. Cut into my lunch break." 
Javier straightened, the hand with a piece of orange sinking back down from his lips. "Oh? What did he want?" Unfortunately it was nothing he could be nailed down for. The Rodríguez brothers did own that bank and had every right to be there, every once in a while. 
"Wanted to talk about the tax evasion scheme I devised. I swear, there's nothing rich people hate more than paying their taxes!" Her huff made him laugh softly, despite everything. "Nothing of substance to report, sadly."
"We'll get them." Javier promised. "With your help, they'll go down like a bag of rocks in water."
She hummed, tapping her nails against the phone casing absently. He could hear the light click of it over the line. Javier let himself enjoy the reprieve this unassuming silence offered.
"I've been wondering," she started again after a moment, pensive, "how you met Gabriela. Was it when she was still at the brothel or after?" 
Actually screw reprieve. Javier felt like all his blood was now rushing to his ears and neck. "Umm..." he said, eloquently. "W-why d'you want to know?" And hadn't the other woman told her that detail, since they apparently shared everything? He had made it until now in forcibly not dwelling on what exactly this 'everything' would entail. 
"Sorry no, that came out wrong. I was just wondering if she'd ever been in any way involved in your... work. I'm sorry, this isn't... I just- I worry."  
Javier exhaled slowly, thinking back on the night he'd chanced upon the stunning redhead at a bar. He hadn't planned on it becoming a regular thing, and then before he knew it, the sporadic nights he spent with her were the only thing removed from the stress of his job. "No, never." 
"Dammit." 
That was... not what he'd expected. He frowned a moment before it dawned on him. 
"You're worried that by involving her when Maritza asked you for help you put her in danger."
"...Yes." She sounded glum now, not pleased and at ease enough to attempt to joke with him like before. He hated it. 
"Hey, it's alright. Nothing happened to her." At least to her. At least one person had come out of that nightmare mostly unscathed. It was something to be grateful for. "They're gone now. Escobar and his men are gone. She's safe." 
"Thank you, Agent Peña. I just-" Her voice sounded so small, suddenly. He frowned, plate of fruit long forgotten. "I couldn't bear it if I lost her, too. And while I didn't live in Medellín for all of it I ...you hear things." 
Unbidden, his mind flashed to the brothel on 23rd street in Envigado, all the women executed, La Quica putting bullets through their brains because one of them had been brave enough to call the Search Bloc and DEA on him. He thought of Helena. He thought of the dozens more who had the violence in their lives compounded tenfold because they'd dared to defy the narcos' terror. And often enough, through him. Sometimes the guilt ate Javier alive. 
"Hang on a moment." He said, already heaving himself up and striding over to the kitchen, grabbing his unfinished beer from the fridge, then doubling back over to the bar and grabbing a glass and a bottle of whiskey. Mixing the two was probably not a good idea. As much as drinking in general. He didn't care right now. Javier tried to be a better man than he had been, but there were times when he slipped. 
He poured himself a glass of the liquor as he sat back down and snatched the phone receiver back up from where it swung against the wall. 
"I'm back." He announced simply and took a swig. 
"I shouldn't have brought it up." She sighed long and drawn. "I'm sorry for... I suppose I just wanted to make myself feel better. That if something had happened to Gabi it wouldn't have been my fault, too. I didn't think- I cannot begin to imagine, Agent Peña-" 
"It's alright." Javier said, reflexively. The beer bottle was just one generous sip away from being empty now. His fingers played with the rim of it absently as he stretched his legs out in front of him, the tumbler of whiskey at his side. 
"It's not alright." Miss Rivas insisted, sounding even more distraught. He hated that, too. 
"Maybe. Maybe not. It is what it is." He scrubbed a palm over his face, rubbing at his burning eyes. The alcohol was beginning to swirl through his bloodstream. It helped, he supposed, that there was a sort of artificial distance through the telephone line. Otherwise the next words would likely never have left his lips. 
"Can I tell you something?" Javier Peña wasn't a religious man, but there were times when he saw the sense of a confessional. 
"Of course." Her voice was just the slightest bit shaky. "Should I get myself a drink, too?"
"If you want." He threw back the last bit of beer, following it up immediately with a gulp of whiskey, then pressed the still cold bottle against his flushed neck. He hesitated a moment, listening intently to the shuffling and rustling on the other end of the line. He felt his shoulders tighten and draw up, let his head fall back against the wall with a soft 'thud', his fingertips tracing the rim of the glass until he heard her soft affirmative. 
This was not a time to let shame hinder him. Hell, the fact that he paid women for sex was the first thing she ever knew about him. 
"You should know that I have a kind of... reputation." Javier began slowly. Like she didn't know that already. Like she couldn't guess. Like maybe this illusion where he could make this a confession instead of a confirmation was somehow more dignified. 
He'd gotten the idea a few months into coming down here. Or rather the idea had found him in the shape of a lovely, doe-eyed brunette who'd introduced herself as 'Aurélia'. And Javier had been hungry and lonely, his shame at his ruined wedding fresh and the frustration of running after leads into empty corners even fresher. And he doesn't even remember how he ended up inside her room, and while under no illusion that what was about to transpire was merely a business deal, a service rendered and compensated for, he'd found himself talking. Javier wasn't a talker, but she'd been so sweet in the way she carded her slender fingers through his hair and let him ramble on, probably wasting her time. 
"That's who you're here for?" Javier remembered still, with such distinct clarity, how her fingers had stuttered against his scalp. Javier had lifted his far-too-heavy head from her comfortable bosom and peered up at her, wondering whether disclosing all this had been a mistake. What kind of idiot walks into a brothel in Medellín half drunk and says he's a cop looking to take down Pablo fucking Escobar plus associates? 
"They come here sometimes. Those sicarios I mean." Aurélia had said, resuming her caresses. Sweet girl. Sweet, sad girl who kissed so softly. 
"Oh yeah?" Just his luck. "Not tonight though, hopefully." Suddenly he wasn't quite as drunk or tired anymore. 
"Not tonight, no. At least not that I know of. Anyway, it's not- I shouldn't tell you this." She'd tilted his head up and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. That girl could kiss like she was in love with you. 
That was that. Four days later he'd come back, with a proposal wrung from his superiors. Any information that could lead to the capture of one of the Cartel's sicarios for a generous chunk of solid American cash. 
"Aurélia?" Miss Rivas asked in a voice as if she was running calculations. "With curls or with a birthmark?"
"Umm, birthmark." A mole on her left cheek, just under the eye, like a rococo lady in every period piece about the French, except real. 
"Oh! Catalina Vasquez!" 
"You know her?" Of course she knew her. Apparently Medellín was actually a damn village and not a city of millions. 
"Yeah, the family lived just down the street growing up. I used to babysit them sometimes, her and her younger sisters." 
Javier hummed, unsure of how to reply. He pinned the receiver between his head and shoulder and shoved the freed hand up under the collar of his shirt to rub at the tension in the back of his neck. 
"Sorry for interrupting, do go on." 
It had taken some convincing. A whole lot of planning, too. But by the end of it he had one of Gacha's sicarios in custody. A large, brutish man who'd nicknamed himself 'Cobra'. Low-level and not especially bright, as it turned out, but not completely worthless. Javier had gone back to the brothel that night to give Aurélia her reward, and then he'd come back again the night after, when the high of success had worn off and he'd craved being kissed again like it meant something. Only, she'd been gone. Left without a trace, her erstwhile colleagues unwilling to divulge the whats and wheres and whys. Frustrated and anxious and in no small part betrayed, he'd drowned himself in a willing bottle blonde who could do extremely interesting things with her mouth. And that was that, the start of a career and a reputation. Not that he ever expected to be 'serviced' when he was there in a professional capacity. But when they offered, he found himself too weak to refuse. And they almost always offered. For whatever reason. 
Professional pride perhaps.  
"What happened to her?" It had been years but he had to ask, just on the off chance. 
"She took your money and cut loose, moved to the coast and got a job at a baker's. Last thing I heard she was married and had another baby on the way." 
"Good. That's ...good." He'd wondered, all these years... "Thank you."
"I didn't do anything." 
"For listening. For letting me ...unload." For lifting a bit of guilt and uncertainty off of me. "Just... you don't have  to do that. So thank you."
A short rustling, the squeak and groan of a chair, then: "I will listen to whatever you want to tell me, Agent Peña." 
Javier released a sigh, deep and weary, and set aside his glass and the bottle that was significantly lighter than it had been. His mind was somewhere in that soupy stage now, floating aimlessly on some sort of thick fog. It dulled the creeping pain in his back that told him he was too old to be sitting on the floor now. He mumbled something indistinct, rubbed his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to clear the haze. 
"Well, in any case, now you know." He'd only need to tell her about Lorraine, Helena, and Carillo, and he'd have shared all of his major sins. Huh.
"What are you asking for?" 
Absolution. "A verdict?" 
"I have no intention of judging you, Agent Peña. Not for this. You acquainted yourself with all the working girls in Bogotá and Medellín, and I married a man I did not love and stayed with him for years." 
"That's hardly the same." 
"Isn't it?" Her voice was soft and rueful, brimming with words not ready to be spoken quite yet. He sensed it, and agreed, and therefore decided that it was time to cut this heart-to-heart off here for both their sakes. 
"Hell, I don't know. Maybe, in a way." He was way too drunk for this. He shouldn't have drunk this much. Where had his threshold gone? It's like he'd spent years tempering his liver for nothing. 
"Well then, I'll let you know whether or not it'll be worth for you to come down to Medellín next weekend. Sleep well. And drink some water before then." 
Javier glanced at the clock mounted on the oppsite wall. When the hell had it gotten this late? No wonder his ass was numb and his back was killing him. There was a moment when the strangest words were just hanging on to the tip of his tongue, ready to plummet off. That it would always be worth it to see her. Even just to take a turn about a park with her and the kid. Javier swallowed thickly. Gathered his professionalism and detachment. 
"Until then, Miss Rivas. Good night." --- --- --- The phone rings insistently in a way that tells him it's been at it a while. Javier sighed while sliding the glass door of his office shut behind him. He hadn't planned on being all but ambushed by one of Stechner's CIA stooges under the guise of 'inter-agency liasing', and that was after getting caught up with a lenghty presentation one of his newly transferred agents had prepared for him. Feistl, he'd said his name was. The presentation was full of good ideas, too, just too involved. Javier had told the guy as much. If you can get your point across with ten words there's no point using fifty. 
Javier picked up the receiver, one hand rubbing at the dull throbbing that was just starting to build in his temple. 
"Peña."
"You're still at your office? It's past eight, you should go home." He smiles despite himself, and the chiding tone. 
"Got delayed." He offered by way of an explanation. She harrumphed softly. 
"Not that I'm not delighted to hear from you, but what's the occasion?" She rarely called him, he usually called her. She certainly didn't call on Thursday nights because when she wasn't preparing to drive up to Medellín she was usually exhausted enough at this point in the week to turn in early. 
"I hope you're sitting down." 
Javier perched himself on the edge of his desk where it wasn't piled high with reports and mind-numbing paperwork awaiting his signature. "I am." 
"They're having a party and I've been invited. Friday next week. They'll all be there; Santacruz is apparently coming down from New York for it. The chief accountant, the money launderer, everyone. And their wives, or other-" 
Javier's foot slipped a bit where he'd foolishly leaned a significant percentage of his weight on it. He caught himself as the desk gave a loud groan, slipping a bit on the linoleum floor. He righted himself quickly, sitting more firmly on the edge of the desk. 
"What do you know?" 
"Apparently there's going to be some sort of important announcement, but no one knows what it is, not even Miguel. Gilberto called it. All I know is that all four of them will be there, as well as everyone important in the organization. And then some. Likely every politician and law enforcement official in their pocket. Other cartels, too, but I don't know who exactly-"
"Miss Rivas, stop." Javier said firmly. Her voice had gotten that rambling, frantic quality that wore thin its natural pleasant rasp. "That's plenty. This is..." he twisted around and fished for his desk calendar, grabbing the nearest pen to circle the day, "This is huge. It could even be just the break we need."
She was silent for a moment, only her long, deliberate breaths crackling over the line. "You think so?"
"I think regardless of what it is, if it's important enough for a gathering this big, then yes."
"I don't suppose you could raid the party and arrest them all just like that?" She mused. 
"Only in my dreams, Miss Rivas." He allowed himself a second to picture it: surroundig what was no doubt a very large and fancy property, riding in like the cavalry, the dumbstruck faces as the Gentlemen of Calí and their associates realized their luck had run out, clapping the handcuffs on them - he'd want to do it himself, hear the gratifying click of metal on metal that would wipe the self-satisfied smirks off their faces. 
The warrants for the Calí godfathers existed, that wasn't the problem. The problems started with finding the location, circumventing their no doubt expert security, getting the lot of them without anyone escaping... Then there was the trouble of getting a search warrant for the property, even if they did know the address, and it was going to be a whole lot more complicated if the guy who signed those warrants was at that party himself. Then there was the fact that for all the valuable intel Miss Rivas had provided already, it wasn't nearly enough to nail the godfathers beyond what their army of slippery attorneys could weasel them right back out of. What they really needed was for someone to talk. Someone who had been there for longer and knew the operations of the cartel more intimately than Miss Rivas ever could (or than he would want her to, if Javier was being honest). The mysterious money launderer perhaps, or the chief accountant. Either would be good, both would be better - then again, the immunity deals that usually came with these kinds of cooperations didn't sit too well with Javier. 
"Hell, I don't even have a plus one. Do I really have to go? I could pretend to be sick." She sighed and scoffed, and muttered something about not having anything to wear. 
"I think you know." And if these people didn't know his face (and would put a bullet through it on sight) he'd gladly offer to be her plus one, if only to keep her safe. He hated knowing she'd be all alone there, among the wolves. It didn't make what he still had to ask of her any easier.  
"Yes, I know. Miguel called me the 'third corner of their finance trifecta'." A bitter laugh, not that Javier needed that cue to know. He could tell from her voice alone how much she despised it. "In any case, now you know, so you can make whatever arrangements you need. I'll see you tomorrow?" Ah yes, about that. 
"I'm afraid I can't make lunch. Urgent meeting called by the ambassador." Urgent and useless, but when the new president and minister of justice wanted a briefing he had to oblige. "Sorry."
"That's alright. Dinner then? My aunt will be in the hospital overnight." 
"I'll see what I can do." There was just one more thing. "Miss Rivas?"
"Yes?"
"Would you be willing to wear a wire? To the party?" 
"Well, I was thinking a cocktail dress would be more appropriate-" 
Javier scoffed. "You know what I mean." He could picture her grin on the other end of the line, pleased at her little joke. 
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I suppose I might as well, seeing as I'm not getting out of this-" 
"Thank you."
"Best bring the necessary ...equipment with you. I need to go dress shopping this weekend." 
He promised that he would. He promised to call as soon as he knew when he'd be in Medellín. And he promised to go home for the day as soon as they said their good-byes.
He intended to do just that; he only needed to file away some things first. 
"Boss?" Another one of the new transfers poked his head in after knocking. Why was he still here at this hour? Javier struggled to recall his name. 
"Yeah, what is it, uh..." He did feel bad about it, too. A little bit at least. 
"Van Ness, sir." 
"What is it, Van Ness?" 
"Duffy just faxed this over." Van Ness leaned further into Javier's office, holding himself steady on the doorframe, and handed him the flimsy sheet of paper. "They've gotten a lead through Cornerstone." 
--- --- ---
Dinner instead turned into an apologetic phonecall during a meeting break and then a red eye flight out to Medellín. Then there's another meeting at the Search Bloc home base with Colombian National Police representatives and the only high point of it is that he briefly sees Hugo Jr who looks well. So by the time Javier finally starts out to Envigado it's lunchtime again. He makes it there just slightly after. 
He walked up to the small house, past the flowerbeds on the windowsills, and knocked on the door. That side of the house was south-facing and it was a hot, cloudless day that has him sweating in his suit in no time. He's just about to knock again, thinking perhaps the first time he'd been too soft to be heard so as not to disturb the aunt who must be resting after her overnight stay at the hospital, but then he hears the quick tap of feet and the door is yanked open by an out-of-breath Diana. "Hey." 
She was wearing a wide smile and cut-off denim shorts with a simple blue cotton blouse and her hair was loose and much longer than when they'd first met. It seemed like no time at all had passed since then when in reality it had been close to a year now. 
"Hi," Javier breathed, "Sorry for the delay." 
She waved it off. "Come on in, I saved you a plate." She turned and walked back the short and narrow hallway. Stop gawking at her legs.
"That's not necessary." He tried to deflect, toeing off his shoes near the door and loosening his tie and shirt collar, just the top button. 
"Nonsense, unless you've eaten?" She looked over her shoulder before turning into the small kitchen. 
"I haven't, no." Javier conceded, following behind. It wasn't exactly spacious, a round table squished to one wall with just enough space for three chairs. Little Salome sat at one, drawing with an array of colorful crayons. She acknowledged him silently before going back to her drawing and Javier sat down. 
"Coffee?" Diana asked over the hum of the microwave, already pulling two mugs from a cupboard. 
"Please." Javier stretched his legs out as far as he could without becoming a tripping hazard. "How's your aunt?" 
"Resting now. She's been better recently, but overall she's been declining so I don't know-" She gave a helpless shrug, then brought over the mugs, shortly followed by the steaming plate which she set in front of him. He'd learned a while ago that even the most minute resistance was futile anyway. Besides, he actually was really rather hungry. Catering wasn't a priority for the CNP. 
He waited until she sat down in the chair opposite to start eating. They talked quietly, not exactly smalltalk, but nothing too heavy either. It was strange sort of almost-domesticity if one looked over the fact that he was being snuck in like a teenage delinquent boyfriend whenever the aunt was out or asleep (which was fine by him as he had no desire to meet the woman whose only daughter he'd gotten killed). 
"So how does that whole wire situation work in real life?" Diana asked after she'd cleared away the dishes (and physically slapping his hand away when he moved to help). 
"Well it's... there's a literal wire, a microphone on one end, and a recording device on the other. And a battery." Javier began haltingly. 
"And it needs to be concealed under the clothes, obviously." 
"Obviously." 
"Hmm, I see. How big?" She sat back down again, brushing a hand through Salome's hair affectionately. "And how do I secure it under the dress? I need to know these things so I can pick out one that'll cover it all, you see." 
Javier nodded. "Did you want to leave soon? Because I was thinking it's probably easiest if I just came along." 
At this, she seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. "You sure?"
He sipped the last of his now tepid coffee and nodded again. "Yeah, let's go buy you a dress."
"There's no need to buy me a dress, Agent Peña." He recognized that tone by now, how testy she got at any allusion of charity. It was an ingrained reflex that he knew better than to be irked by. 
"The United States government is buying you a dress because you being at that party is of strategic importance to this investigation." He stood to put the empty mug in the sink before she could beat him to it, then returned to the table, standing behind the seat he'd previously occupied and gripping the back of it. "Besides, more of American taxpayer money is spent on worse things." Like Stechner's salary, he thought. She gave him a look that said they'd have more words on this, probably when they reached the checkout, then stood, saying she'd go say goodbye to her aunt. 
Javier nodded, watching her leave. A little noise caught his attention. Salome still didn't speak much, but she knew how to make herself known nonetheless. "What is it, Miss Salome?" Javier stooped to get closer to eye level with the kid. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes and held up a scrap of the paper she'd been drawing on. 
"Oh, what's this?" She shook the paper insistently in her tiny fist, an adorable frown creasing between her brows, as if miffed that he was being slow. And it's... he's gotten more relaxed around the little girl by now, but it still always lingers that he's part of the reason she's an orphan, and traumatised into a selective mutism that apparently even the average counselor or child psychiatrist doesn't quite know how to deal with to boot, that leaves him with a lingering apprehension that manifests in the kind of awkward hesitation that now has her scrambling off the chair and patting his leg as she holds the paper up for him to take. 
"Want me to take a look?" He bends and takes it gently. Is answered by a sort of long-suffering sigh. The scrap is barely the size of his palm, covered in colorful blobs of red and orange and yellow and blue, pink and green and purple swirls in between. 
"Very pretty." He decrees and attempts to hand it back just as Miss Rivas is poking her head back the room. 
"Can you please grab the car seat?" 
"Huh?" It's not very eloquent, but then again he's engaged in a game of impromptu reverse tug-of-war with a toddler. "She's coming with?" She's also pushing the paper back at him again, pouting. 
"Yes of course she is. The car seat? It's on the shelf behind you." There is no argument to be had with the women in this family, so he doesn't even attempt it, just straightens and looks for the car seat which is indeed in the described spot. "And that drawing is for you so just take it." 
"For me?" It's still clutched in his hand, and Salome is heaving a huff as if to say 'Duh. Idiot.' His throat feels tight all of a sudden. "Well, thank you very much." He makes a show of tucking it very carefully into the pocket of his suit jacket, then turns to retrieve the car seat. Together they make their way out. It takes a moment to set up the car seat in the back, another to wrestle the stroller into the trunk, but eventually they're on their way downtown.
--- --- ---
They have entered a world of ruffles. And sequins. For a moment Javier thinks he's having flashbacks to Lorraine's endless sessions discussing bridesmaid's dresses all those years ago. He exchanges a look with Miss Rivas, her expression stony and tense. 
"Alright, quick in and out. If at all possible, I want to be out of here again before Salome wakes up." Javier nodded, tightening his grip on the stroller handles. Salome had dozed off in the car on the drive over and was now out cold, not even stirring throughout the transferral from car seat to stroller. Javier eyed the sea of satins and gulped, then turned to the woman at his side. "What's your plan?" 
"I'm going to find a shop assistant." She narrowed her eyes, gaze flitting over the masses of racks. 
"Good plan." Javier mumbled. He had an inkling that they'd be here forever if they attempted to brave this ocean of dresses alone. 
"Right, you can..." she trailed off as her eyes fixed on a woman some feet away, her head just bobbing up from between two racks where she was rearranging some very bright red and very small garments, "...um, wait by the changing rooms?"
"It's fine." Javier replied, starting to push the stroller in that direction. If nothing else he figured he could function as a temporary clothing rack or something. On instinct, he scans the perimeter while Miss Rivas elucidates to the shop assistant what she is looking for and the younger woman, perhaps in her mid- to late twenties, snaps her fingers in triumph before announcing that she has 'just what you're looking for' and starts marching away. They follow her like ducklings from rack to rack, and a good ten minutes later they have an armful of cocktail dresses of varying lengths, cuts, and colors. It's the kind of brutal efficiency that even Search Bloc could only dream of, all in the petite shape of this eager retail employee with a side pony.
"Let me know if you need help." She chirps as she deftly deposits them in the changing room area before returning to her other tasks. 
It's an almost enclosed space, five curtained cabins in an open half-circle arrangement with a long-ish bench in the middle and some tall mirrors on the spaces between. He wheels the stroller beside the bench and sits a moment later, so that the both of them are facing the changing room where the shop assistant had hung up the dress selection. Shrugs off his suit jacket, then drapes it carefully over the sleeping child to block out the light and muffle the noise of shoppers. Miss Rivas looked at him expectantly, one hand on the curtain that was half drawn. 
"What?" 
"You're gonna have to show me how to put on the wire thingy." She jerked her head towards the changing room. Javier gulped, the implication dawning on him. Looked at the stroller helplessly. There was nothing but an effectively timed baby snore and a twitch of one little ladybug-socked foot. 
"Come on, the sooner we get this over with the sooner we can leave." As previously stated, there is no arguing with the women of this family, especially when they're right, so he resigns himself, dives for the case that holds the machinery, and stands. Miss Rivas stepped aside, drawing up the curtain after a furtive glance around. "We're both adults." 
"Yeah." Javier agreed, his throat tight. At least these cabins were decently sized or they'd be squished in there like sardines in a can. 
Javier turned away to give her some privacy, fiddling with the wire instead, pretending it had gotten more tangled than it was. At her soft confirmation that she's ready he turns around, making a conscious effort not to look... anywhere really. At least she'd only chucked her top; the shorts are still on. 
"Agent Peña, I would assume that you have seen women in their underwear before." She sounded amused, and clearly more relaxed about this than he could ever pretend to be. He gives a terse nod, making his eyeline give a wide berth until his gaze lands squarely on her face where a bemused smirk just barely masks something more uncertain. 
"Sorry, there is a real dearth of female agents or this would be much less awkward." Javier stepped closer, holding the wire in his hands like the world's flimsiest shield. She's right of course, the sight of a woman's brassiere hasn't been new to him since he was a teenager sneakily perusing clothing catalogues in his bedroom after dark. Hers isn't even... it's... functional, off-white, unwired and unembellished, and reveals just the edge of a tan line, something he quickly drags his gaze away from. The problem is of course, that the path his eyes take is further down her body, suddenly snagging on a raised line down at the very edge of her ribcage on the left side. 
"What's this?" His thumb drags across the raised skin instinctually. It's a thin, straight line of scar tissue, around half the length of his index finger and sitting right on the lowest rib. Diana gasped softly and he snatched his hand away like he'd touched one of the electric fences back on the ranch. "Sorry." 
"It's fine, it's just a scar." She took a steadying breath and retraced the path his finger had just taken on her skin with her own, pensive. "I got caught in a shootout on my way home when I was home for summer from university once. It's just a graze." Just a graze that would have been more than that if it had hit just a few inches to the side. Javier felt faint at the thought. 
"Do you have any?"
"Huh?" His brain is lagging on something, hence the eloquent reply. 
"You said you get shot at a lot in this job. Ever been hit?" She ducks her head a little, looking up at him through her lashes from where she's leaning back against the wall. "Come on, I showed you mine, you show me yours." It's clearly a joke, and one she obviously regrets as soon as the words are out, judging by the pained expression that comes right after the statement. 
"Just one." Javier said, tapping his leg about a handwidth above the knee. "Went right through. Apparently missed the main artery by less than half an inch." 
"Hmm, " she hummed, "Looks like we're both lucky then." 
"Yeah," Javier agreed, his voice soft and low, "lucky." 
The changing rooms really were not cramped, but with two fully grown adults inside, they were just about spacious enough. They stood barely an arm's length apart, mirror to one side and thick faux-velvet curtain to the other. Javier felt heat prickle from the base of his neck downwards, and he wasn't even the one with half his chest out. He'd only rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows, leaving his forearms bare. 
Her hand brushed over one gently, curling around his wrist and startling him out of whatever feverish reverie he'd zoned out into. 
"So," she trailed her fingertips further down, over his knuckles and the wire slung around them, before tapping against the small black cylinder that housed the recording device and battery, "does this thing get hot?" 
Pull yourself together and be fucking professional! "It shouldn't." 
"Right, well let's get it on then." 
He handed her the microphone end first. Explained ideal placement, the closer to the face the better. This was a modified necktie bug, small and discreet, secured against the skin with tape if necessary. She took it, pinned the mic to the strap of her bra, high up on the shoulder. The wire itself was long enough to wind around her torso once with some slack. The slim casing that held the battery and recording device she tucked into her bra for now. Listened intently as he explained how to turn the device on and off. 
"I'll keep this on for the rest of the day, just to get used to the feeling." Her smile was a bit wobbly as she spoke. 
"Yeah, that's ...uh, a good idea." Javier fidgeted a moment, not sure what to do with his hands. "Right, I'll leave you to your-" 
She gripped his hands just as he was about to turn and leave. Alarmed, he stilled. Watched he lip wobble and the rims of her eyes redden under furrowed brows. "Hey, what is it?, What's wrong?"
She heaved a deep and shaky breath that ended in an even shakier laugh. "I'm sorry I'm just... I'm scared."
"You don't have to do this if you don't feel safe." Javier was quick to offer. "You've helped us so much already."
She swallowed hard. "No, I do want to! Do this, help you. I want to bring them down! Besides, I'm going to be there anyway, so it would be a waste not to-" 
She was trembling now, unaware of her own body's reaction until it was brought into sharp relief by his large warm hands on her shoulders. 
"Hey," he said, thumbs rubbing gently at her collarbones, "It's going to be alright. I won't let anything happen to you, okay?" 
She knew, realistically, that there was only so far he could carry a promise like that, but her nerves calmed nonetheless. It was silly, really. This relationship was just a professional alliance, no matter how many deep secrets they'd shared with one another. Officially of course they couldn't ever be associated, at least as long as any of the 'Gentlemen' of Calí still roamed free. And yet, she trusted him.  
"I know. I'm sorry." She babbled, nerves imploring her to externalize her anxiety through words. "I came to you; I wanted this... want this. I'm in. I'll try to be brave."
He squeezed her shoulders gently. "You're one of the bravest people I know." And that was the crux of it, wasn't it? Because deep down he didn't want her to be brave. Helena had been brave too, and what did it get her? 
"I'm just… I'm tired of being afraid." She steadied herself on him, hands gripping his biceps now. 
"Sometimes being afraid is what keeps us alive." He murmured, bringing one hand up to tilt her face to meet his gaze. "Listen to me. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you're safe, okay? Whatever I can, I promise. I can't have you on my conscience as well." The last part was whispered so softly that she barely caught it, but she nodded, pulling herself together and schooling her breathing.  
"Thank you." She squeezed her hands once and let go. Javier searched her face for a moment longer, thumb brushing over her cheekbone absently, before he remembered himself and drew back.
"You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "yeah I'll be fine." 
"Okay." Javier breathed, straightening, hand going for the curtain. "I'll wait outside."
Her answering smile was still shaky, but not quite as much so.
When Javier ducked out of the changing room his first glance is towards the stroller, where Salome is still napping peacefully. His second glance is directed towards the shop assistant sorting through the returns rack, directed there by the woman's disapproving huff. It's not the same one who helped them pick out dresses, but a slightly older woman, one who carries the gravitas of authority derived by experience with her. 
"Did your wife need help?" She quips while untangling garments from hangers. Out of all that's happened over the past quarter of an hour or so, this is what really makes Javier's ears burn. 
"Yes, with the um... zipper." He stutters, wishing for the first time that day since leaving the base that he could have a smoke. 
"Hmm," the shop assistant resumed her folding, "You would not believe the kinds of things people get up to in there." Her disapproving stare moved to the stroller where Salome was still blissfully asleep under his blazer. He snatches the garment away guiltily, but Salome doesn't even stir, just slumbers on cutely. At last, the woman's eyes soften. 
"Yes, well... call me or any of my colleagues if you need further... assistance." 
"Thanks." He clears his throat and sits as she sails off with an armful of clothes. Miss Rivas poked her head out not a second later. 
"I'm sorry, your what?" 
At least she was laughing again, even if her eyes were still slightly red-rimmed and watery. 
"Sorry, next time I'll be sure to clarify that you are my confidential informant and we're taking down the world's biggest drug cartel together." He retorts, and she breaks out into a wide grin accompanied by a snorty burst of laughter. 
"Well, if you put it like that it sounds almost romantic." Now it's his turn to snort. "I do actually need help with this zipper, though." 
She stepped half out of the little alcove, clad in a floor-length, wine-red halter gown with intricate beading all over, and a slit so high it makes his brain short-circuit. Which causes him to just stare at her dumbly for a long moment, even after she's already turned to present the high back of it. 
"Agent Peña?" She throws over her shoulder, somewhere between amused and slightly concerned. He jumps and strides over, fingers fidgeting with the zipper tab until he gets a decent grip and starts to pull it up the rest of the way. 
"Uh, no I meant down." Her voice is as strained as he feels. He pulls the tab down, desperately trying not to focus on the skin being revealed as he does. She releases a relieved breath when he's done and turns, stepping back inside the changing room. 
"Thanks."
"This one good?" He asks with a non-committal shrug, nodding towards the dress without really looking at it. 
"No, I think I do need to be able to breathe. And also I'd like to be able to walk without flashing everyone. I do work with these people, after all." She smiled, one hand on the curtain ready to draw it back shut. "I'll be quick with the rest, but you can take Salome for a turn if you want, maybe have a smoke outside? We can meet back here or by the registers." 
They both look at the little girl's sleeping form simultaneously, watch her eyes move rapidly under her lids as she is lost in dreams. 
"Thanks, but it's alright. I can stay in case you need further...help."
It really isn't long after that. She hurries, but they also make light conversation while she tries on another five or six dresses. She doesn't come out with most of them but narrates all their flaws very entertainingly. Javier once again enjoys how forward she is, not censoring herself in the least as she complains about everything from odd sizing to itchy material to unfortunate placement of embellishments. 
"Okay, last one." She announces and then draws back the curtain with a flourish and Javier... just gapes. The dress is midnight blue, so dark it looks almost black until light hits the silky fabric and reflects off of it. The color compliments the deep bronze tan of her skin like it had been chosen specifically for her. It's slim-cut, body-hugging and high-collared with thin spaghetti straps and subtle beading on the bodice. A tasteful slit goes to just above the knee and the hem brushes just over the tops of her feet. 
"I think this will work." 
'Oh it definitely works.' Luckily Javier's mouth is currently too dry for these words to slip out, so he just nods, clearing his throat awkwardly. 
"Great! Let me change back real quick and let's get out of here." 
He's just adjusting his suit jacket to lie over the still blissfully sleeping toddler like a blanket when Diana steps back out, back on her shorts and top. 
"Looks like the American taxpayers are in luck. It's discounted." She said as she read the tag, then draped the blue dress over the top of the stroller. "Twenty percent. Not bad." 
Javier snorted. Took the other dresses and hung them up on the returns rack. Grabbed the stroller handles and gently set the vehicle in motion. Salome stirred a moment, then bunched a chubby hand in the fabric sheltering her from the chilly air-conditioning and settled back down. Diana's gaze is soft upon her niece, and soft still when she raises her eyes to meet Javier's. 
They make their way down to the registers, walking from the top floor of the department store downwards, weaving around racks and shelves and other shoppers. Javier is pushing the stroller, Miss Rivas at his side where possible, her hand loosely hooked into the crook of his elbow again as she likes to do. It's two floors down, as they traverse the men's section, that she suddenly sidetracks, half disentangling herself, half pulling him over to a wall display. Neckties. He raises a questioning eyebrow. 
"Since we're here already." She shrugs, like that explains everything. It doesn't. The eyebrw remains up and quizzical. 
"Explain." 
There's a dangerous glint in her eye as she lets her fingertips glide over the assorted fabrics. 
"Gabi said you only have ugly ties." Has she now.
"She's only seen two!" Javier protests without heat. She eyes him critically, eyes the tie he put on this morning at the asscrack of dawn for his damn meetings. He has half a mind to argue that he didn't feel like dressing up all pretty for some pissy general at half past four in the morning. 
"Was this one of them?" Though truth be told perhaps his tie selection is a bit... outdated. This one is several brownish tones in a very 70s pattern, if he's being honest. 
"No?" But this one was also one of the old ones that had been gifts from Lorraine he'd never gotten rid of. 
"Then you have three ugly ties." There is no arguing with this woman. So, he submits. "You'll have to make announcements on national television sooner or later; you'll need to look decent." 
"I'm not arguing, am I?" He figures what's the point. What's the worst that could happen. And she knows she's won, too. Gleefully starts peering through the selection before them. 
"Is this revenge? For this?" He motioned to the dress still draped over the stroller, his meaning clear between them. Is this for making you go to a party with the world's most powerful drug bosses with a wire up your boobs.
"No." She lied, picking up a solid charcoal tie and holding it up to his collar. "Of course not." 
She picks out four, two solid and two patterned.
By the time he parks the car back on a side street in Envigado Salome is awake and very grumpy. A snack of peach slices and crackers mollifies her somewhat, but just enough to get her in the house and distracted by her toys before throwing a fit. Javier carried in the car seat and then the stroller, after Diana's signal that the coast was clear, and lastly he grabs her shopping bag and stuffs the last item on his itinerary for this visit inside, before he forgets again. 
"Another coffee?" He wants to, he really does, but if he ingests any caffeine now he knows he won't sleep until well after midnight. So he shakes his head, apologetic. He's tired, sure, but he'll power through until he reaches his hotel (and then promptly collapse on the bed there.)
"I have one last... I brought you something, just in case." He hands her the bag, and she looks at him quizzically. Until she looks inside, that is. 
"What's this?" She holds the garment up in question, turns it in her hands a a few times. Javier clears his throat.
"Bulletproof vest." 
She gulps. Pales imperceptibly, eyes flitting between him and the vest. 
"You really think this is neces-"
"Just in case." He insists. It probably wouldn't- it's a newer model, thinner and more discreet than the tac vests they use out in the field, but likely still too bulky to be hidden under her normal work clothes, even though she favors looser cuts. He takes it from her gently, motions for her to put her arms up so he can lower the vest over her head and do it up at the sides. Explains how it needs to be secured tight to the body so it doesn't shift. 
"It won't work under my normal work clothes." Miss Rivas frowns, hands smoothing down over the front of it, calculating. Probably going through her wardrobe mentally. Doing an admirable job of not letting fear grip her again like that earlier hiccup. "It's too bulky."
"No, you're right." Javier conceded, hands still at her sides where his fingers are hooked into the clasps of the vest. "You should still take it. Who knows when it'll come in handy."
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Author’s note cont’d: this is the song Javi is hearing over the phone in the first scene btw
youtube
learn about bugs and wires here (though I do admit that I am playing a bit fast and loose with this here ;)
this is what I based the first dress on:
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and here’s the final dress: 
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and yes, I hate about 90% of the ties they have him wear in the show and that is how that bit came about. Sorry to throw Lorraine under the bus a bit there but I’m sure they were fashionable at the time :/
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samthemarvelfan · 4 years
Text
One Last Time (Part 2 of 2)
Summary: ModernAU! Mini Series! With her best friend’s wedding around the corner, Ella Monroe is bound to run into people from her past. While she may have left her old life behind, it seems as though her heart hasn’t.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC, feat: Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson
Warnings: Swearing, heavy angst, infidelity, mentions of drinking, implied smut.
A/N: Part Two is here! (It’s long and im sorry lol) This idea was so much fun to write! Thank you as always for all the love on Part One, I’m so honored you’re reading my work! Buckle up, y’all. You’re in for quite the ride. <3 (taglist is still open, just send an ask!)
Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @star-spangled-beard-burn @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide @snapcapquartet @ellen-reincarnated1967 @unlistedpond @my-drowning-in-time @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @roseboho @disaffectedbarnes​ (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)
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“I was wondering how long you were gonna avoid me.”
Your breathe caught in your throat. Suddenly, it felt like ice water was rushing down your spine.
You couldn’t think—couldn’t move. You had to will your brain to function again.
“What exactly makes you think you’re worth me avoiding?” You hissed.
Bucky’s voice was ingrained into your memory—you’d know it anywhere. The biggest crowds or the largest rooms, you could pick out his tone.
He let out a small chuckle. “It’s good to see you, Els.”
He was sat in a shadowed part of the patio, it’s no wonder you didn’t see him when you came out.
You scoffed, “Is it? Wish I could say the same there, buddy.”
The shock of seeing him had faded; how were you this composed? You’d always thought you’d be putty in his hands if you ever saw him again.
Turns out your backbone was made of fucking steel.
Bucky stood, gripping onto what you assumed was bourbon—his go-to drink.
On the rocks, three fingers high. You thought, hating yourself for remembering.
When he stepped into the light, it was clear why your backbone had been strong; you hadn’t seen his face yet.
You’d be a liar if you said he looked bad. He was still handsome as ever. He had a bit of a beard now, the stubble of one at least, and his hair was shorter thank you’d ever seen it.
“Wanda said you asked if I was here.” You crossed your arms, shielding yourself from him.
He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “I did.”
You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. The only sound between the two of you was the ice clinking against his glass.
“You gonna tell me why?” You sneered.
Bucky smiled and shook his head. “Just curious, Els. Just curious.”
Why is he smiling? What the fuck does he have to smile about?
“Right, I’m sure curiosity is what made you hide out here. Alone.”
He finished his drink with one final toss, “Actually, I was with Steve, but he said he was grabbing drinks for you guys, so...figured I didn’t wanna intrude.”
Your arms fell to your sides, “Intrude?” You asked.
Bucky nodded, “Yeah. On your date. Personally, I don’t see it, but if he’s what you’re into now-a-days, then...” he drifted off.
Your blood began to boil. “What I’m into?” You echoed. “I’m not here with Steve, James. Even if I was, I don’t think that’s any of your fucking business.”
His eyes widened, confidence drained from his face. “No, no, Els I didn’t mean—“
“And another thing, what makes you think you have even the smallest right to make that comment? Or any comment! It’s been 5 years, James!” You’d shouted, grateful for the music bumping inside.
Bucky scrubbed a hand down his beard, “I know, I know...shit. This isn’t how I wanted this to go.”
“This?” You asked, “There is no this. Hasn’t been for a long time, you made sure of that.”
When he didn’t reply, you scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Ya know what? You’re not worth the aggravation. I’ve been there with you and there’s nothing good in it for me.” You start heading towards the doors to go back inside.
“Enjoy the wedding, James.” You say without looking at him.
Your hand touches the door, when he calls out to you. “Ella?”
Your gaze is returned to him once more.
“Y-you look beautiful, Doll.” He says.
You, on the other hand, don’t say anything.
Once your back inside, you find Wanda and Sam and Steve and finish the rest of your night in the company of your friends.
All while wondering if that crack you heard in Bucky’s voice was real or not.
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“Vomit. I’m going to vomit.” Wanda said, fanning herself.
You rushed back to her with a glass of cold water. “Oh no you’re not, not in this dress and that makeup. I won’t allow it.”
She sipped the cold drink, “I’m starting to regret having no one up there with me.”
You adjusted her veil, primping the last bit you could. “No shit.” You joked.
She let out a long breathe, and then inhaled deeply. “I’m getting married. God, this is crazy.”
You smiled softly, “It’s not crazy. No one, and I mean no one deserves this more than you.”
Wanda’s eyes landed gently on yours, “You do.”
You sat with that for a moment. Your best friend is standing here, minutes before she walks down the isle, trying to get you to understand that you are worthy of love, and that you deserve your happy ending.
“I love you, Wan.” You choked out. “But if you make me cry I’m gonna kick you ass.”
You both laughed out your nerves. “Whew...okay, distract me. I can’t sit here for 10 more minutes in silence.”
You waited a moment, thinking on what to say, before you blurred out what was weighing most on your mind.
“I saw Bucky last night.” You whispered.
Wanda eyes expanded, “What? You didn’t tell me!”
You roll your eyes at her dramatics, “There’s nothing to tell, Wan.”
“Well what did he say?!” She prodded.
You recounted the small interaction to her. Her face making the funniest expressions with each added detail.
“Then he said ‘this isn’t how I wanted this to go’...whatever that means.” You said, handing her her bouquet.
“Anything else happen?” God damn this girl could read you like a book.
You cleared your throat. “I was uh, I was walking back inside and he stopped me and said ‘you look beautiful, doll’...”
Her jaw dropped, “He so wants you back.”
You laughed. Genuinely laughed. “Wanda, you’re psychotic.”
She slapped your shoulder, “Am not! He obviously regrets what he did and how things ended. Maybe he wanted to use this weekend to apologize?”
You shook your head subtly, slipping your heels back on. “James Barnes does not apologize.” You stated flatly.
5 Years Earlier, before the breakup.
“Buck, please stop.” You whispered to him.
He was being brash, loud, and boisterous at the very first work event you’d been invited too.
Oh yeah, and he was piss drunk off of the open bar.
“Stop what? I’m just telling stories, Doll.” He said, louder than he realized.
You colleagues all gave you looks of pity. Your boss Pepper was watching you with a curious eye, not judging, just taking in your interaction.
That was somehow worse.
“Bucky, please...everyone is looking at you. This is my job. You’re—“
“I’m what, Els?” He slurs loudly.
Your feel the blood rush to your face. “James...” you warn.
“What is it? Am I embarrassing you? I’m not fancy enough to hang out with your work pals, is that it?” His words are laced with venom. How long had he been feeling like this?
Your face softened looking at your boyfriend. About to speak, you notice Pepper making her way through the crowd.
You panic, “Alright, time to go.” Quickly, you grab Bucky’s hand and yank him toward the door.
You don’t stop walking until you’re a safe distance away from the building where the conference was being held.
“What is the matter with you?!” You shout unable to keep composure any longer.
Bucky’s face is stoic, and unfazed by your outburst.
“I was trying to have fun, but those uptight douchebags wouldn’t know fun if it—“
“I work with those people, James! My boss was watching you make an ass of yourself the whole time!” You can’t help the anger settling in your bones.
He scoffed, “So you are embarrassed of me. Noted.” He said walking past you.
But he paused, turning on his heel to take a few steps back to you. “Ya know what, Els? I didn’t have a fancy education and I don’t have a big, cushy job. I’m just an average fucking guy. I can’t fit in with these people, I don’t belong with those people.”
You cross your arms. Have you really become this couple? Fighting on the streets of Manhattan in the freezing cold?
“Have I ever asked you to be someone else? I invited you because my Boss told everyone to bring their spouses.” You take a step toward him.
Bucky sighed, running his hands down his face. “We’re just...two different people, Ella.”
All at once it feels like the winds been knocked out of you.
“Yeah. Yeah we are. But unlike you, I don’t see you the way you do. I see a hardworking man. A guy who has taken care of everyone else his whole life, and who deserves to have someone finally take care of him. I see a man who takes pride in his work and enjoys what he does. I see a guy who pays his bills on time, and who always manages to surprise me with even the smallest of gestures. I see the man I love, James.”
You were crying. How long had he felt so inadequate? It broke your heart to think he didn’t feel as important as he was to you.
“I can’t help my job. I can’t help my education. But don’t you dare throw those things in my face. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, and I’m damn proud of myself for it.
He watched you for a moment, his jaw clenched tightly. Bucky shoved his hands in his pocket before hanging his head low. “I’m...I don’t know what to say.”
Damn his pride. You thought to yourself.
You reached out to him, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I know. It’s okay.”
He kissed your palm, before pulling you into him. “I’m not good enough. I know I’m not. Not for you.”
Bucky kissed your forehead, and for some reason, you weren’t sure why, it felt like he was saying goodbye.
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The wedding was beautiful. Not a dry eye in the house—certainly not from you.
“Nat was a blubbering mess.” Sam jested.
“Excuse me for being over-emotional!” She said gesturing pointedly at her stomach.
You laughed, “I cried too, Nat, don’t worry.”
“Hey, got your table cards, guys.” Steve said, walking over to the three of you.
“Thank you,” you said with a smile, “She seat us together?”
He nodded, “Sure did, thank goodness.” Steve smiled, handing you your card.
“I need to go sit and eat and eat some more—in that order.” Nat said.
You walked to the beautifully set circular table, walking around to find what seat your place card was on. That’s when you noticed the fifth seat at the table.
“Who else is seared with us?” Sam asks.
Picking up the seat card between your seat and Steve’s, you felt you stomach do a back flip.
“Is that my seat?” A voice asked, approaching you from behind.
Not a voice. His voice.
You spin to see him. Bucky. Standing there with a sheepish grin on his face.
Practically throwing the place card down, you swiftly take your seat. “Looks like it.”
Wanda, I’m going to kill you. You think to yourself.
Bucky said his hello’s to everyone, taking his seat. “I didn’t know about this, I swear.” He whispers to you.
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Just...don’t talk to me.” You whisper harshly.
From the corner of your eye, you can see the defeat on his face as he sinks back into his chair. Since when does he have feelings?
You perk up at the clinking of a fork against a crystal glass. “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen? We’re going to have a few words from the Bride and Groom before dinner is served.” Wanda’s brother announced.
Vis went first. He spoke about how he and Wanda had met, and how quickly he fell in love with her. He spoke about what he loved about her in more detail than I’d ever heard some describing anything.
He loved her. He was in love with her.
It warmed your heart to see how safe and happy your friends heart was. A soft smile landed on your lips as you watching Wanda stand and join Vis to speak.
“You ever want something like this?” Bucky whispered to you as their speeches continued.
You glance at him quickly, shocked at the ease in which he spoke to you. His face was gentle, his eyes seeming desperate for an answer.
“What, a wedding? Sure I did.” You said earnestly.
He paused for a moment, clearly nervous to speak again. “D-Did you ever want it with me?”
You hesitated. Why is he asking you this here, now? Was Wanda right? Was this all a big plan to apologize?
You sighed, turning away from him slightly. “You were my everything at one point, Buck. Future included.”
You wondered if that sentence had hurt him the way it hurt you.
Wanda continued her speech. What she was saying you weren’t sure, your mind was exactly where you didn’t want it.
With Bucky.
Despite your back being to him, you felt his stare. The heat coming off of his body, ironically enough, made you shiver.
“Ella...” his voice strained from behind you.
You did a half turn to see his face. His eyes were watery with tears, and his jaw was locked. “Can I—can we talk? Please.” He begged.
You don’t know how it happened. Maybe it was the sincerity in his tone, or the loss of hope in his eyes, but before you know it, you’re following him out to the hallway, into an empty stair well.
“I just wanna talk, I promise.” He confesses.
You roll your eyes, “You said that already, James.”
Bucky groans. “For Christ’s sake, will you stop calling me that?”
A scoff passed your lips, “It’s your name. If you’d like, I’m sure I can come up with some other things to call you.” You quipped.
He stood still finally, “It makes it sound like we’re fucking strangers, Ella .”
“That’s because we are!” You shout. “It’s been five years, probably more since I’ve seen you, let alone spoken to you. You don’t know me anymore, and I’m fairly certain I never actually knew you.”
The feeling of your heart beating out of your chest took over. You were allowing yourself to feel for the first time in all these years. All the hurt and the pain and the rage he’d caused your heart was being laid bare.
“Yes you did. You were the only one who ever saw the real me.” He said somberly.
You scoffed, “Good to know. The real you is a cheater and a liar. Noted.”
He groaned furiously, “No! For fucks sake that’s not what I meant.”
You watched the struggle happening within him. Bucky was never a “good talker” as he used to say, that’s why he always wrote letters. It was obvious he was trying to piece together some kind of coherent thought.
“Just say what you wanted to say, James.” You urge him, crossing your arms.
He shook his head. “I’m not...fuck, I’m still not good at this. You’d think I would have learned how to fucking apologize by now.”
Your breathing hitched, “What did you say?”
He sighed, “I’m taking a really long time to...just fucking say...I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you.”
Suddenly ice water was coursing through your veins. He said sorry. James Barnes said he was sorry.
You couldn’t speak, and even if you could, what would you say?
His voice was shaking as he spoke, “I was so fucking selfish and blinded by my own insecurities, that I let it ruin the best thing in my life. You were...God, you were everything I could have ever wanted.” He smiled, presumably getting lost in his memories of the two of you.
He stepped closer to you, and to your surprise, you didn’t back away. “But just cause I wanted you doesn’t mean I deserved you, and I guess deep down I knew that. Hell, I wanted to break up after that disaster at your office party. Remember that? That’s when I knew if we stayed together, I’d just drag you down with me.”
His words broke—re-broke your heart. The tears stinging your eye were begging to be shed. But Bucky was speaking without hesitation now, so you let him.
“I tried, Doll. I tried so many fucking times to be a man and end it. But then you’d come home after a long day and look so fucking happy to see me,” his voice cracked with emotion, “and I couldn’t do it. You were so perfect, and so good to me. I was a selfish prick who wanted to soak you in a little more before I knew I’d have to push you away.”
“You had no right to make that decision!” You sobbed.
Bucky reached out and wiped your tears off your cheeks. Why don’t you push him away?
“Honey, I was a broken, immature boy pretending to be the man you deserved...” a tear fell down his cheek as well.
You finally pushed him back, wiping your own eyes. “So you decide to fuck another girl in our bed? That was your great plan to push me away? How about be honest, Bucky!”
He stood there, taking his verbal beating. “You could’ve told me how you were feeling. I would have told you how ridiculous that was--how much I fucking loved you! How I would have helped you in any way you needed me too. But you decided to fucking kill me instead. You broke me, Bucky. The life we had wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.”
He scrubbed his face with his hands, sniffling when he shoved them back in his pockets. “I know. I know what I did. I see your face every God damn day of my life. That look on your face when you saw that girl in our house.”
You bit your lip, the painful memories of that day making your stomach churn.
“I never slept with her, though.” Bucky says plainly.
You scoff, “and here I thought for one we were finally being totally honest with each other.”
He put a hand over his heart. “On my life, Doll. I didn’t. Had I planned too? Yeah. But you came home that afternoon and thankfully I never did.”
“James...” you scold, “I saw her! She was pretty much naked in our bedroom!”
He nods, “She had gone to the bathroom to look for the condoms I hid in there. She couldn’t find them though, that’s when she walked out and you walked in.”
As you pieced together his story, your eyes flitted from side to side. “So..so you never cheated, you just intended too. But you never actually slept with someone else.” These were questions from you. They were statements. You were trying to make sense of all of this.
“Not that it makes any of what happened better, but I was gonna tell her to leave as soon as she came outta the bathroom. Honestly? I couldn’t get it up at all.” He jokes to ease the moment.
“Buck...” you chided
“I’m serious! I felt so fucking guilty, Els. I couldn’t do it. Besides she...” he drifted off.
“She what, Buck?”
His cerulean eyes met you for the first time. “She wasn’t you, Baby.”
Baby.
He’d called you that so many times. This time it felt different, it felt familiar. It felt right.
You shook your head, “Stop it, James.” Your lips quivered as you spoke.
He refused, “No. I lost you once, because of my own arrogance and stupidity, I’m not gonna do it again. Do you know how many times I wanted to write you? I have so many letters written, all of them unsent because I knew you’d never wanna see me again.”
He’d written you? He’d thought about you? All these years and you’d thought he’d forgotten you.
“I’ve loved you...what seems like my whole life, Els.”
You sniffled, “So what do you expect? Us to fall into each other’s arms and pretend like the last five years didn’t happen?”
He shook is head. “Of course not. I don’t even know what I was hoping for, really. I just needed you to know the truth, and for you to know how deeply and wholly sorry I am.”
In an instant, the world had changed. You were no longer holding onto the bitterness that had seeded itself into your heart. You’d seen Bucky in a new light, granted not a flattering one, but a true one.
One that showed he wasn’t the heartless monster you’d been believing he was for years.
“I forgive you.” You choked out.
A muffled sob snuck past his lips. “C-Can I hug you?” He asked timidly.
You hesitated, but eventually nod. In an instant, Bucky’s arms are enveloping you. His warm chest comforting your shaking body.
He held you for what felt like hours, inhaling your scent, and caressing you’re back.
But you didn’t mind.
It felt good to be held again, and to be held by Bucky felt familiar.
He pulled away slightly, to look at your face. His eyes roamed over every detail, like he was afraid he’d forget something if he’d never see you again.
“Buck.” You practically whisper.
He smiled, “I can’t kiss you...right?”
You bit your lip. “No...no. Definitely not. Right?” You reply weakly.
He stepped back, “Yeah, that’s...that’d be too much.”
You smoothed you’re dress down, and tucked some hair behind your ear. “Exactly. Yeah.”
“We should get back out there anyway. I have a feeling we’re missing that very expensive dinner.” He laughed.
You smiled softly, “Don’t wanna miss that.” You jest.
Bucky let you walk in front of him, leading the way.
You grasp the door handle, but before you can swing it open, Bucky grabs your hand and twirls your body into his.
Without missing a beat, his lips are on yours before you even have time to think. Like second nature, you melt under his touch.
Mouths moving with a remembrance and familiarity that you hadn’t felt in forever. Hands searching for changes in each other’s bodies—there were none.
“Bucky. Buck...stop. Stop.” You moaned.
He did as he was asked, “What—what’s wrong?” He breathed into you.
“We can’t do this...not here.”
He pulled back, hesitantly, but he does. “You’re right. Shit, I’m sorry.”
You laugh, “Don’t be. We just...we can’t just jump back into things like that. We gotta get to know each other again. Okay?”
He smiled whole heartedly. “Really?”
You nod. “Just...don’t make me regret this, Bucky. Please.”
Bucky grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth. He placed a chaste kiss on your palm, before closing it and returning it to your heart. “I promise you, Ella. I promise I’ll make this right.”
And you believe him.
Is it against your better judgement? Maybe. But you know the old saying, ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...”
As you walked back to the reception with him, you saw Bucky with new eyes. You no longer looked at him with disdain and malice, but instead, you saw hope.
Hope for not only your future and his, but hope for one you can build together.
In the end that’s all you wanted, something that everyone in your life seemed to have and believe you deserved.
A happy ending.
Part One
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