#well if they arrest me for saying this next time I’m in bled it was nice knowing you friends. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years ago

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic, Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, MINORS BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: This chapter is angsty as fuck and there’s quite a lot of references to death. Aizawa wishes he was dead etc

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 14/16 (all chapters)

15-ISH YEARS AGO

KREEK

Shouta stretched his hand upwards and grabbed onto the fabric, using his legs and fist to get a firm hold before climbing higher. His hands were bandaged and worn, the capture device stained with blood, but he pushed himself harder and faster, grimacing at the friction against his broken skin.

It ended as it always did. He stretched too high and the hand he had used to secure his weight buckled under the strain. He lost his grip and plummeted to the safety mats piled across the floor, the capture device slipping from his hands.

Hizashi winced at the sound of his body hitting the mats. He knew they were designed to break falls, but had used them often enough himself to know how much they still hurt.

Shouta repositioned himself at his original starting position and reached for the fabric, the same determined expression across his face that he always wore, no matter how many times he landed on his face.

KREEK

Hizashi watched as he took hold of the fabric and tightened his grip before reaching higher, slower this time, a telltale sign that he had cut his hand again. He sipped his soda, taking in the sweat that layered Shouta’s forehead, the blood on his lips from where he had bitten too hard.

The first few months after Shirakumo’s death had passed slowly: a haze of visits to the guidance counsellor that eventually faded into one. He remembered very few individual details of that time and they assured him it was normal, even if it felt anything but.

He remembered the whisper of rainfall; remembered the way it had soaked his hair. He remembered his mother grabbing his face in her hands and begging him to say something...anything and slowly realising not only was she crying, but he didn’t remember coming home.

After several months of counselling, both after school and during free periods, he had adjusted to a life without Shirakumo in it. A year had passed now and it still hurt, but he no longer had a knee jerk response to his empty desk or the mention of his name. No one handled him gently anymore. They didn’t choose their words carefully as if afraid he might explode.

Shouta was different.

He didn’t go to any of the guidance counsellor’s appointments. He slept through class, he stopped studying. He had the same glassy look in his eyes Hizashi had when he returned home, only the light never really returned. He continued to come to school though committed to none of it, as if it wasn’t real and he wasn’t there, simply passing through a dream.

He had never been a chatty sort of person, but Hizashi felt his silence now more than ever. Any time he brought up Shirakumo it was like he’d poked a bruise, which in many senses he supposed he had.

He didn’t remember when exactly Shouta had started booking out the gym, only that he had been following him there for the past three months. He positioned himself in the doorway, back straight against the frame, finishing up his homework and pretending he wasn’t there.

Shouta didn’t speak about Shirakumo. He didn’t speak about that day. Instead he bled through bandages and skipped meals.

He made it only a quarter of the way up the rope this time, slipping on a part of the fabric that was still slick with blood before toppling back to the mats. He didn’t get up, instead sprawling across the mats as exhaustion finally caught up with him. His chest heaved, his eyes blurred with tears.

“Shit,” he murmured at first, though his voice grew louder as he got to his feet. “ Shit !!”

Hizashi got to his feet when Shouta did, taking a moment to perfect a convincingly wide smile before stepping forwards.

“Say, Sho,” he said, as Shouta wobbled on his feet. “I brought you something!”

Shouta turned to him, gaze drifting from his smile to the bottle of water in his hand.

“Look, I filled it up at the water fountain,” said Hizashi, holding it out. “It’s all nice and cold and refreshing!”

Shouta reached out to accept it with a nod of thanks before downing it in one. Hizashi watched, wringing his hands, pretending he didn’t see the tears in his eyes. It never ended well when he acknowledged them.

“Listen,” he said, “I was talking to some of the girls and we were thinking of going to the movies t-”

“I’ll pass.”

“Are you sure? They’re showing vintage movies! Beast Man vs-”

“I’ll pass. Thanks.”

Shouta passed him the empty bottle and turned back towards the mats, stretching out his arms and legs ahead of the exertion.

“You know…” Hizashi started, willing himself to speak, “the reason we’re going...it’s because it’s been a year...since…”

Shouta froze in place, still in the process of stretching.

Say something, Hizashi willed himself, though if he meant it for himself or Shouta he wasn’t sure.

Say something.

SAY SOMETHING.

“I’ll pass,” said Shouta at last, relaxing his body and walking back to the rope.

Hizashi watched, squeezing the empty water bottle until the plastic began to buckle.

“I, uh,” he said, smile fading, “I’ll get you some more water!”

“Don’t need it.”

He went anyway, closing the door to the gymnasium with a sigh and pressing his back against it. He stared down at the water bottle in his hands, at the condensation coating his fingers and the plastic, before squeezing his eyes shut.

~~~~~~

PRESENT

“We’re going to take a short break now, listeners! Take the time to get yourselves a glass of water and hydrate! It’s good for the skin, ya know?”

He muted his microphone and queued up several tracks before switching on his phone to check his social media. Sometimes his listeners posted questions or sent him interesting articles while he was on air, which made for good talking points when he returned.

He raised an eyebrow when well over a dozen missed calls and voicemails came through in swift succession. He scrolled through them, heart sinking when he realised most of them were from you. Ordinarily he would have been happy to hear from you, but it was difficult under present circumstances.

He wondered if this was it; if you were calling him to announce you and Shouta were finally a couple. He had been on the edge of his seat ever since Nemuri confirmed she had successfully gotten you to go in her stead, waiting for the inevitable.

His finger hovered over your name and his stomach churned. He wondered how you would break the news.

He took a deep breath and opened up the voicemail, preparing himself for the worst.

He had expected for you to be happy and laughing, every word overflowing with joy at this new development in your life. His blood ran cold, though, at the reality.

There wasn’t a shred of happiness in your voice, only desperation. You sounded drunk, as if enunciating every syllable took every ounce of strength you had.

Hizashi...I don’t know when you’ll get this...but something’s happening at the camp. I think it’s the League of Villains...they’re here! They have one of the creatures from USJ. Please, even if you can’t call me back, let the authorities know!

He got up from his chair and loaded up your next voicemail with shaking hands.

Your words were even slower this time.

Hizashi. When you get this, please call me, okay? There are three villains here so far and one of them is Moonfish. The students don’t know. They’re in danger!

He had heard of Moonfish. Everyone had. The details surrounding his arrest were considered too gruesome for public knowledge, so naturally everyone knew them.

He wondered how you could possibly have known Moonfish was present without seeing him; how you could have gotten close to one of the USJ creatures without being seen yourself.

He loaded the third and final voicemail, praying you were about to tell him you were fine, that you had gotten to safety and the pros were dealing with it. He swore he’d forgive you if it turned out to be a prank.

He sank to the floor, though, when you finally began to speak.

Hizashi, I think...I’m dying. Everything’s going dark. When you get this, please, just remember this address. Give it to the police...it’s-

Your phone cut out then and for a second he couldn’t breathe.

“No, no, no,” he said, frantically going through his phone in search of another voicemail, anything from you, any proof you were alive.

You hadn’t called him after that. You had sent him multiple text messages of the same address, though nothing after that final voicemail.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he said, dialling your number and chewing his thumbnail as it began to ring.

Your phone did ring, though no one answered.

It lay forgotten in the corner of an ambulance.

~~~~~

TICK

TOCK

TICK

TOCK

Shouta stared blankly at the clock on the wall, thoughts fuzzy and mouth dry. He couldn’t settle on a singular train of thought, staring into space even as the doctor lifted a pen torch and shone it in his eye.

Due in part to its remote location, the incident in the forest was an even bigger rescue effort than the Hosu attack not long before it. Police and medical teams were called in from all nearby cities, the former spending the night scouring the woods for stragglers and forensic evidence while the latter tended to the wounded. Several interns from Musutafu’s own hospitals were shipped in to join the effort and, while the more experienced doctors tended to the critically wounded, they checked for broken bones and signs of trauma, ran errands and lab tests for their superiors and in some cases even offered up an extra pair of hands during the more complicated procedures.

The moment he arrived at the hospital, Shouta was sent for a onceover by one such doctor, who was dressed in the tell tale embroidered scrubs of Musutafu’s university hospital. He introduced himself briskly before running through a few basic tests on his motor functions and rapid fire questions about his overall health.

Shouta barely remembered getting to the hospital. He couldn’t think of anything other than your bloody lips. Vlad had had to hold him back when the EMTs arrived because he had tried to stop them, convinced beyond reason that they would injure you further. He had a sneaking suspicion that that was why they had assigned such a freakishly tall doctor to give him a onceover.

Someone knocked at the door and the doctor slipped his pen torch back inside of his pocket.

“Come in,” he called out, getting up to reach for his clipboard as Tsukauchi let himself into the room and gave the young doctor a polite bow. Shouta noticed his eyes lit up when he saw the doctor’s name tag, though didn’t question it.

“Good evening,” said Tsukauchi, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“It’s fine,” said the doctor, “I’m finished here.”

He turned to Shouta with the telltale stern expression of medics the world over.

“You don’t have any long lasting injuries,” he said, “but it’s crucial you rest.”

Tsukauchi laughed under his breath as the doctor gave him a nod and dismissed himself from the room.

“How are the students?” Shouta asked, thinking of the fear in their eyes.

He had arrived at the hospital long after them, when both the police and pro heroes at the scene agreed to postpone the search for Ragdoll until daybreak. What’s more, due to his own admission and examination, he hadn’t had the chance to properly check in on them, which he bitterly regretted. They needed familiar faces at a time like this, someone in a position of authority who knew what they needed to hear.

They needed you at a time like this.

“(Name),” said Shouta. “Is she…”

The last time he had seen you was when the EMTs bundled you into an air ambulance and no one had been able to give him an update since. Tsukauchi’s face fell at the mention of you and he instantly feared the worst.

“She’s in critical condition,” he said at last, choosing his words carefully. “The last I heard, they were still operating on her. Actually...that’s why I came to speak to you.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke to Vlad,” he said. “He tells me you received a text message from her before…well.”

Shouta stiffened, remembering the multiple messages that had come through the moment he returned to the classroom; messages you had almost certainly typed with bloody fingers.

“I wanted to ask,” said Tsukauchi, “this address...does it have any personal significance to her?”

“She conducted interrogations with you after USJ,” said Shouta. “You’ve seen her quirk in action. Surely you understand its value as intel?”

“I do,” he said, “but…”

He paused, both of them knowing what he meant to say.

People did strange things on the brink of death. Perhaps that address had nothing to do with the attack, but a deeper significance.

“It’s intel,” he said, refusing to accept the alternative. “We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.”

“Of course, of course,” said Tsukauchi, getting up from his chair and giving him a polite nod. “We’ve postponed taking statements until tomorrow morning. Rest up for now. The doctors will have my head if you don’t.”

Shouta watched him leave, before leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes.

TICK

TOCK

TICK

Shouta...I need to talk to you.

TOCK

We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.

TICK

TOCK

It’s crucial you rest.

At some point, though he didn’t know when, he had convinced himself that you would be awake by sunrise.

In a few hours you would be able to tell them what happened to Ragdoll. You could tell them the significance of the address.

He couldn’t rest until then.

~~~~~

You weren’t awake by sunrise. As a matter of fact, you were still in surgery and blissfully unaware of the chaos erupting around you.

You were asleep when the hospital called not only your next of kin but those of the first year students; you were on the operating table when All Might and Nezu received the news.

You didn’t find out until much later about Bakugo’s kidnapping, nor the true extent of the damage.

You never found out about Nezu’s immediate safety protocol to slow the inevitable hordes of press. While Nemuri and Hizashi had both received missed calls and knew about the incident, they were instructed to continue as if nothing had changed. Nemuri returned to her television interview, a fresh layer of makeup to disguise the fact that she had sobbed in the bathroom ten minutes beforehand. Hizashi greeted his listeners and continued to play tracks, though his happy tone didn’t meet his eyes and he took far fewer chat breaks than normal. Every time the music faded, he listened to your voicemails, wondering if that would be the last time he ever heard your voice.

You had no idea Shouta spent the night wandering the corridors and checking in on his students, calling your number whenever he was alone. He never left a message, just listened to the joy in your voice.

Hello, this is (Name). I’m not around at the moment, please leave a message!

He didn’t want to think about what you had actually said to him before being taken away.

...it’s unfair...unfair...un...fair.

What was unfair?

That the first year students had faced so much danger so soon?

That you had most likely sustained such a serious wound trying to help the investigation?

That your body lay bruised and broken and not-

He thought of body bags and bloodied gravel before he could stop himself; another body at a different time. He dug his nails into his palms, into well worn scars and calluses, and dialled your number again.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before journalists caught wind of the blood in the water and flocked to UA for answers. Much like the Hosu incident, Nezu summoned several of the remaining members of the faculty to discuss recent events. Not only was there a lot of ground to cover and decisions to be made, but very little time to do so.

Everyone was restless for different reasons; Nemuri picked at her nails, Hizashi toed the floor with his boot, All Might fidgeted in his seat. The only remotely composed one was Nezu, though every so often his gaze drifted to the newspapers in front of him.

“We’ll hold a press conference tomorrow,” he said, thoughtfully. “After Aizawa and Vlad have given their statements, I’ll brief them on a plan of action. For now it’s important we cooperate with the police and prepare for the worst case scenario.”

“This is my fault,” said All Might. “I should have never come to UA this year.”

“This isn’t the time for blame,” said Nezu. “Right now we must deal with the immediate problems at hand. The students will require not only medical care but a full psychological review before they return to classes next semester… we will have to organise a replacement counsellor.”

Everyone grew tense at that.

“Temporary,” said Hizashi.

“Hm?”

“ Temporary counsellor, not a replacement. We have a perfectly good one already.”

Nezu sighed.

“(Name) suffered heavy blood loss and remains in critical condition,” he said. “You must forgive me for taking into account the worst case scenario. If (Name) survives…”

“She will.”

“... if she survives, it will be at least a month before she returns to her duties. We’ll need a replacement until she is recovered.”

Hizashi shook his head at the mental image alone of your injuries. You should have been there with them, not bleeding out on an operating table.

“Don’t misunderstand my actions,” said Nezu, far more gently than before, “I don’t want to entertain the idea of losing one of our own either. It’s not something I take lightly. I’m wishing for (Name)’s recovery as much as any one of you, but we should not ignore the facts. We cannot allow UA to fall. We cannot allow our society to fall into chaos. Her sacrifice and that of so many others must not be in vain.”

~~~~~~

While Nezu and the other teachers discussed tactics, Shouta and Vlad were at the police station and arguably just as tense. It certainly didn’t help matters that the room Tsukauchi had chosen to take their statements was just as silent and sterile as the hospital, a fact he tried to downplay by offering them strong coffee and a sympathetic ear.

Vlad stole glances at Aizawa as he described the events of the night before, taking in the ever present bags under his eyes. He had gone through not one but three cups of black coffee since their arrival with no sign of slowing down any time soon. Vlad knew all too well that Aizawa was a night owl, but today it stood out to him in ways it never had before.

He remembered the way you had knocked at Aizawa’s bedroom door; your bright blush and panicked expression when he caught you. He remembered your conversation at breakfast the day before- how desperate you had been to talk to him.

There was only one rational explanation for both your behaviour and Aizawa’s own, an explanation that up until recently he had found interesting, though now struck him as tragic.

He wondered how composed he would have been in Aizawa’s position. He didn’t have a lover and couldn’t imagine how it would feel to find one on the brink of death. He wondered what it was you meant to say to Aizawa that day.

As Tsukauchi stepped out of the room to speak to his subordinate, Vlad stared into his own neglected cup of coffee, wanting to break the awkward silence but unsure how to do so. This wasn’t the time for idle chit chat or jokes, but he was tired of talking about the incident.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, “for back then.”

Seeing you hurt had shaken Aizawa so badly that Vlad had had to hit him in the face to bring him even slightly back to earth. He felt guilty for it, especially as Aizawa was clearly suffering the ill effects of a panic attack, but in that moment he had little choice. You weren’t dead yet but you would be if they didn’t act quickly and he wasn’t capable of giving both of you his undivided attention.

“S’fine,” said Aizawa before downing the remnants of his fourth plastic cup of coffee. “It was the best course of action under the circumstances. I would have done the same.”

Vlad chuckled under his breath, knowing he absolutely would.

Tsukauchi returned to the room a matter of seconds later, clutching a file under his arm and grinning widely. It was as if he had had a new lease of life and Vlad was more than a little intrigued about what had caused it.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said, as if he had been gone for an hour as opposed to a few minutes. “There’s been a development.”

He sat back down and opened up the file, revealing a typed report and black and white photographs of a shabby building.

“I had my team run a check on the address (Name) sent out,” he said, pushing one of the photographs across the table. “It’s a building in Kamino ward, mostly abandoned. A while ago, one of my team investigated a tip off about suspicious looking people in that area, though ultimately it didn’t amount to much of anything because there was far too much ground to cover. Among the witness statements was a description of a man with a patchwork face.”

Aizawa tensed, realisation sinking in.

“You mean…”

“I think,” said Tsukauchi, “that the patchwork faced man in this report is the same one you encountered at the lodge. The address (Name) sent so many times…”

“It’s their lair,” said Vlad. “It’s got to be.”

Aizawa rubbed his temples, face crumpling with the smallest of smiles.

“What are you planning to do next?” said Vlad. “If this really is the lair of the League of Villains…that’s where we’ll find Katsuki Bakugou.”

“We need to think carefully before we act,” said Tsukauchi. “If we attack too slowly, they’re more likely to shift bases, especially after making such a dramatic move. That said, if we move too quickly and without all of the facts...it could be dangerous for all involved.”

He laughed under his breath and turned to Aizawa.

“You were right,” he said. “This is valuable intel.”

“You can thank her when this is over.”

Tsukauchi smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew all too well that there was every chance he’d be thanking your gravestone instead of you.

“I will.”

~~~~~

“Nemuri?”

Hizashi turned away from the desk.

“Nemuri? Where did you go?”

Instead of attending the emergency staff meeting, Recovery Girl had gone to the hospital, where her efforts were most needed. She kissed away broken bones and bruises and greeted more than her fair share of distraught parents, as well as scolding any badly injured students she happened to catch out of bed.

She also took the opportunity to update Nezu on the state of the injured, from the ill effects of gas to who was conscious and who would need a little longer to recover. She was the first to know when you were released from surgery; the first to pass on the message that you had been moved to the ICU.

Nemuri, Hizashi and All Might had immediately insisted on visiting the wards, all three overwhelmed with guilt. If All Might or Nemuri had been present, the night might have ended differently.

All Might turned down any offer of a ride to the hospital, instead making a pit stop to catch up with Tsukauchi, leaving Nemuri and Hizashi to arrive without him. It was a decision that paid off in the long run, for nobody recognised the pair in their civilian clothes as they would the Symbol of Peace.

After they showed their hero licenses at the front desk, the receptionist had picked up the phone to call in for someone to escort them to your room and somehow, in the middle of everything, Nemuri had disappeared.

Hizashi wondered if she’d gone to the washroom, only for his heart to sink when he saw her.

She was standing outside of the gift shop, staring into the glassy eyes of simultaneously the tallest and ugliest teddy bear he had ever seen.

Hizashi left the reception desk and walked towards her, eying up the bear.

“Thinking of treating yourself?” he asked, prompting her to sigh and fold her arms.

“I’ve never understood it,” she said.

“Teddy bears?”

“No. Gift shops in hospitals. Who would want a souvenir of something like this?”

“It’s not only bad stuff that happens here.”

“Right now it doesn’t feel that way.”

He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and no one could have predicted this, but it felt hypocritical.

“I promise,” he said, wrapping an arm over her shoulder, “something good will come out of this. Somehow, in ways we don’t know about yet. In the future we’ll look back on today and...well, maybe not laugh, but smile at least.”

“If that ever happens, I’m buying this bear.”

~~~~~~

Your room was in a secluded area of the hospital, far from the prying eyes of not only the public, but injured students. Nezu had insisted on it, for the scope of your injuries were not public knowledge and certainly not known to the students. They had not seen you taken away in an ambulance, nor had they seen you pinned to a tree. They had been told you suffered injuries, but nothing that would add to the trauma of that night.

Perhaps it was the echo of their footsteps against the floor, combined with the sterile walls and shapeless furniture, but it felt like they were entering forbidden territory.

“In here,” said the nurse, tapping at one of the doors a couple of times before guiding them inside.

Hizashi had tried to prepare himself for the worst. He had listened to your voicemails, imagination twisting and turning. Nothing, though, prepared him for what greeted him on the other side.

You looked small , tubes connecting you to multiple machines and cuts and bruises still visible underneath the oxygen mask. Perhaps the worst part of it all was how peaceful you looked, just the same as you had when you had rested in his arms, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt with his face on. Back then he could think of nothing worse than waking you; he had held himself so still that he had a crick in his neck for days afterwards.

He would have given anything to go back. If he knew then what he knew now, he would have nudged you awake and chatted the night away. He would have offered up that round two, taking you so hard in the bathtub that water spilled out and soaked the tiles. He would have kissed you at your kitchen table instead of saying he didn’t want you as you were.

“You okay?”

Nemuri poked him. He took a deep breath and walked towards the bed, setting himself down in the chair beside you and dragging it closer until he could lean over and rest his head against yours, relishing the warmth of your forehead. You weren’t dead. Not yet.

“What do you think she’d say if it was one of us?” said Nemuri, stepping closer and running her fingertips across the back of your hand. “If the roles were reversed and you, me or Eraser were here instead.”

“Hmmmmmm.”

Hizashi sat up and scratched his chin, thinking back to the sports festival, the sushi bar, Les Papilles . He remembered the night of the Hosu incident; the way you had looped your arms around Shouta’s middle; the way you stood up onto your tiptoes; the words that left your lips.

“I have to go,” he said at last, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead before getting to his feet.

“But we just got here,” said Nemuri, “why w-”

“There’s something I have to do,” he said, hurrying out of the room. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Nemuri watched him leave, a bewildered expression across her face. She turned back to you, searching for the answers in your sleeping features and ultimately giving up, sinking down into a chair and taking your hand in hers. She stroked your palms and linked her fingers through yours, breathing a heavy sigh at your chipped nail polish.

She reached into her purse and pulled out one of the several bottles she carried everywhere for when she scuffed her own.

“Now then,” she said, unscrewing the lid and stretching out your fingers, “let’s fix you up.”

~~~~~~~

Shouta returned home after leaving the police station, though not out of choice. He wanted to go back to the hospital, but had been advised against doing so, leaving him little choice but to accept the ride.

He understood the logic of it, but spent only about five minutes at home before leaving again. He didn’t go to the hospital, or anywhere the press might be lurking, instead heading for the 24 hour store a couple of blocks from his house. He genuinely did need to stock up on eyedrops, aspirin and cat food. It was a reasonable excuse to be out and about.

He was fine until he got to the counter and happened to notice a display of fresh peaches. Within seconds he remembered Yamanashi- remembered that you had been planning to go.

He came home with two punnets and placed them on his coffee table. He had no intention of eating them, but couldn’t stand the idea of leaving the store without them. In many ways, leaving without them felt like leaving without you.

He laid back on his couch, Sushi taking the chance to curl up on his stomach and purr. Normally this was the perfect recipe for an afternoon nap, but the peaches sat in his peripheral vision and he kept his eyes wide open.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the ceiling, only that Sushi darted under the table at the sound of heavy knocking at the front door. Shouta winced at the sudden, sharp pain of paws digging into his ribs, wondering if the presses had figured out where he lived.

Maybe they’d leave if he stayed still enough.

He ran his fingers over his middle and wondered if he’d bruise, breathing a sigh of relief as the person outside stopped knocking. The peace and quiet didn’t last long, though, for a matter of moments later a key turned in the lock. He jumped to his feet just as quickly as Sushi had and stumbled towards the kitchen, pressing his back against the wall as the intruder stepped inside.

“Sho, are you here?”

It was Hizashi, which retrospectively shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Shouta only had two keys and had given him the spare so that he could feed Sushi while he was away at camp.

“Sho-”

“I’m here.”

Hizashi clutched a hand to his chest, plainly not expecting him to be standing so close.

“Why are you hiding around the corner?”

“I thought you were a journalist.”

“A journalist who has a key ?”

“You never know,” sighed Shouta, turning back to the couch. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I came to check in on you,” said Hizashi.

“You didn’t have to.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

Shouta faced him, willing him to leave. He hated the way he was looking at him, as if he deserved any sort of sympathy or pity. He remembered it from high school, after Shirakumo’s funeral and subsequent obituary. He hadn’t deserved pity then, either.

“Well,” he said, raising his arms, “as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, it’s the truth.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Shouta,” said Hizashi, rubbing his temples, “you can lie to me all you want, but stop lying to yourself.”

“What do y-”

“Don’t you see? We’ve been here before,” said Hizashi. “This is what happened to-“

“Don’t say it.”

Shouta didn’t want to hear Shirakumo’s name. Not now. Not ever. Hizashi refused to back down, though.

“You weren’t fine then and you aren’t fine now,” he said, “and I can’t do this again.”

Hizashi squeezed his hands into fists and braced his body. Shouta watched, more than a little bit curious. This was the first time he had ever seen Hizashi so angry and without even the slightest hint of a smile.

“I should have told you back then,” he said, trembling, “but I didn’t...and you were gone for so long …”

“Gone? You mean when I went underground? Before UA?”

“No...yes,” Hizashi turned away and tangled his fingers in his hair. “No. When you started sleeping through the day...when you didn’t pay attention in class anymore…you were gone and it took years for you to come back.”

“I still sleep during the day,” said Shouta, “I don’t-“

“It’s not your fault,” said Hizashi. “It was never your fault. What happened to Shirakumo...what happened to (Name)...it’s not your fault.”

Shouta remembered the rubble; the sound of Shirakumo’s voice in his ear. If he had moved just a little faster...if he had been just a little more aware of his surroundings...

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, shaking his head as if to shake away the memory.

“I wouldn’t understand?” Hizashi laughed in disbelief. “My quirk was one of the ones that killed him, Sho! (Name) wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

“Wait... what ?”

As far as he knew, (Name) had been a substitute chaperone. What did any of that have to do with Hizashi?

“What do you mean she was there because of you?”

“Nemuri was completely fine,” said Hizashi, “she dropped out so (Name) would go instead…she did it for me . Nemuri should have been there. (Name) should have been home.”

Shouta froze in place, absorbing this new development.

“I know everything,” breathed Hizashi, stepping closer. “I know that you slept with (Name) before any of us met her. I know that you kept it from us to protect her. I know that you pushed her away because you loved her and she let you do it because she loved you too.”

“I…”

Shouta didn't know what to say; he felt exposed.

“Ask me how I know, Eraser,” said Hizashi, grabbing him by the shirt. “Ask me!”

“Hizashi, you’re being-“

“I know because I did too,” said Hizashi, pulling at the fabric between his fingers. “I slept with her too, on the night of the Hosu incident...I didn’t say anything either, but then I found out about Ego and…” he smiled sadly, “you’d be so good together.”

“That’s not something you get to decide.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” said Hizashi. “But you don't either. Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I wouldn’t piece it together? If (Name) was really the girl from Ego ...if you really did care for each other that much...why did she sit there and hit on me ? Could it be that someone had already put the idea in her head ?!”

“Hizash-“

“It’s unfair, Shouta,” said Hizashi, “we’re completely different people, but we both made the same mistake. We both decided we knew better for (Name) and each other without askin’ first.”

Unfair …

Shouta remembered that word crossing your lips and felt sick.

“You shouldn’t punish yourself over this,” said Hizashi, quietly, “don’t offer yourself up as someone else’s scapegoat. If you’re going to blame someone-“

“Why shouldn’t I? You weren’t there. I was,” said Shouta, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. “I could have saved her.”

“No, you couldn’t have,” said Hizashi. “Even if you kept her with you, there’s no telling what would have happened.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t! I stayed quiet for years. I pretended I didn’t see because I didn’t know what to do. I-“

“Shut...up…”

“I won’t!” Hizashi cried out, so loudly that the furniture began to rattle. “I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. It wasn’t-“

“Shut up.”

“-your-“

“Stop!”

“-fau-“

Hizashi never got the chance to finish, because Shouta shoved him in one last ditch attempt to get out of his grip, leaving both of them tumbling to the floor, Hizashi landing flat on his back and Shouta taking the chance to straddle his waist.

“Shut up,” said Shouta, taking hold of Hizashi’s collar and squeezing his eyes shut. “Shut...up.”

Hizashi lay perfectly still, watching as one tear landed on him and then another.

“It was my fault...my fault...my fault. How can you say we’d be good together? I don’t deserve to look her in the face. She’s a civilian...I’m a pro.”

He didn’t say what he was thinking, what he had been thinking ever since he and Hizashi stood in the rain well over a decade ago, surrounded by ruined buildings and shattered dreams.

It should have been me.

He had been thinking it since he first saw Shirakumo being taken away in a body bag; he’d been thinking it ever since the EMTs took you away.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” said Hizashi. “What she said on the night of the Hosu incident.”

Shouta squinted, thinking back to then.

He remembered watching as you and Hizashi arrived, both smelling of tangerines. He remembered how angry he had been that evening, how he had decided to sneak in an early morning patrol to burn off both the adrenaline and jealousy. He remembered finding you there in floods of tears and embracing both Hizashi and Nemuri. He remembered what came next.

He had turned to leave, only to hear the clack of heels against the pavement. He knew it was you and didn’t bother to flinch when you stood up onto your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his middle. He remembered peering over his shoulder and into your face, taking in your enormous smile.

Thank you.

What for?

You looked him in the face, determined smile transforming into a gentle one.

Tell me...tonight, with Stain, was there anything more you could have done?

His skin prickled from your quirk, but he didn’t erase it.

No.

He hadn’t expected that to be the answer. He hoped it didn’t show on his face, but it plainly did, for you had giggled and squeezed him harder.

You should be kinder to yourself. No one likes living with a bully.

Shouta stared down at Hizashi, who still hadn’t moved.

“Stop it,” he murmured. He couldn’t stand the idea that you’d forgive him.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, looking down, “if she d-“

“Don’t…”

Hizashi placed his hands over the ones that clutched his collar.

“Shouta,” he said, “she wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over this. She’d tell you you did your best! The only thing she’d be mad at you for is blaming yourself for something out of your control.”

Shouta couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t stand the way he held onto him; couldn’t stand thinking of him as an anchor.

He couldn’t stand acknowledging he was right.

He had gotten used to bottling his emotions; had accepted his fate of sealing off the cracks. He had resigned himself to squeezing onto them, contorting them and resculpting them to keep them from spilling out, but seeing you had broken the glass and set them free. He felt everything all at once, grief to love to anguish to joy. He couldn’t hold onto any single sensation any more than he could hold water in his hands.

He didn’t want to think about anything; didn’t want to feel anything.

No, that was wrong.

He felt like he was drowning and longed for anything else.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, “say something.”

Shouta’s hands shook. He didn’t know what to say. He never had.

“Say something ,” said Hizashi before falling silent, lips crushed under Shouta’s own.

Hizashi’s lips tasted of tears, though whose Shouta couldn’t say. He wished he could stop time and absorb every detail: the softness of Hizashi’s lips and sweet scent of his hair; the tickle of his moustache; the warmth of his breath as the shock faded and both of them realised what was happening.

Shouta sat up with a start, heart racing and reality sinking in. Hizashi lay wide eyed on the floor, mouth opening and closing.

“I,” said Shouta, instantly worrying he’d gone too far, “I should-“

He moved to get up but Hizashi grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him back down.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, lifting his head until his lips met Shouta’s.

Shouta had never kissed another man before; he hadn’t kissed very many people in general. He had expected it to feel wrong somehow, yet it came as naturally to him as breathing. He caught himself wondering why he’d never kissed Hizashi before. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought about it.

“What are we doing?” he murmured.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

He reached down to slip his hand under Hizashi’s shirt, relishing the gasp he got as he brushed his fingers over exposed skin. He had always been quietly jealous when Hizashi mentioned sleeping with complete strangers. They never had to worry about what he’d think about them afterwards. Right then, Shouta was too exhausted and emotional to care either and it felt strangely liberating.

“Sho,” said Hizashi as he dragged off his shirt and tossed it aside, “have you ever...with another guy?”

“No. You?”

Shouta shrugged off his own shirt and threw it halfway across the room, narrowly missing the door to the balcony.

He had seen Hizashi naked before. This wasn’t the first time they’d helped one another out of their clothes. It was different now, though. This time around, it wasn’t because one of them was injured. They weren’t in public baths or the locker room. This was new and all consuming and Shouta wanted to lose himself in it.

“Yeah,” sighed Hizashi, “once or twice. Sho-”

“Mmm?”

“How far were you thinking of going?”

Shouta took in his shaky voice and glanced down at him, taking in the tears trailing from his eyes to the carpet.

“Did you not want to?”

“It’s not that,” said Hizashi, flushing scarlet, “it’s just that if you wanted to...y’know...you should probably let me take the lead.”

Shouta nodded and shifted his weight, giving Hizashi room to sit up. He was only too happy to hand over control- beyond kissing he didn’t really know what he was doing. He’d never touched any other dick but his own and under ordinary circumstances would have talked himself out of it by now.

Hizashi ran his hands from Shouta’s shoulders to his chest and pushed him over onto his back, crashing his lips against his as he linked his fingers in Shouta’s belt loops. Shouta yanked at his hair tie in response, relishing the way it cascaded forward and enveloped him in sunlight.

He would never admit to it, but he’d always been a fan of long hair and almost all of it stemmed from Hizashi.

Hizashi dragged away his belt and fiddled with Shouta’s fly, lips never once breaking contact.

“Off with these,” he said, gripping onto Shouta’s waistband and easing off his pants and boxers, eyes widening at the sight of his fully exposed body.

He was covered in leftover bruises from the attack at the lodge, as well as old scars from other incidents, such as the attack on USJ. Normally he didn’t pay them much heed: they were as much a part of him as his arms and legs and other people rarely saw them. Right now, though, they were all he could think about.

“Damn Shouta,” Hizashi chuckled, “I never noticed you were packin’.”

“Shut up,” he said, heat rising in his cheeks and making Hizashi laugh even harder.

They had seen each other naked before but never looked any more than was polite. There was no room for modesty now, yet Shouta’s instinct was still to cover himself up. He moved a hand to cover his dick, though Hizashi caught it before he could, laughing as he coaxed his hand away.

“Seems a little unfair that I’m the only one who’s naked.”

“All in good time.”

Hizashi’s belt jingled as it hit the floor and Shouta watched as he reached for his zipper. He stopped before unfastening his pants and looked up, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“What is it?”

“You don’t want to undress me?”

“I…”

Shouta both did and didn’t. He wanted to relish this moment and drink in every inch of Hizashi’s naked body...but he wanted to touch it too. His silence proved enough of an answer, though, for Hizashi swiftly grinned.

“So you like to watch, eh? Interesting…”

He loosened his zipper and kicked off his pants, taking care to stretch out each movement as much as possible. Shouta stared unapologetically, taking in the shape of his body and bounce of his hard dick as he dropped his underwear to the floor.

“Like what you see?”

He didn’t know what to say, so nodded instead, watching as Hizashi lowered himself down onto his elbows. Shouta inhaled deeply, taking in the warmth of Hizashi’s body against his, the sweet scent emanating from his hair, the hardness of his dick against his own.

“Say something,” said Hizashi, so softly that Shouta barely heard him.

Everything was going to be different after this and he tangled his fingers in Hizashi’s hair.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

He kissed him so hard that at first he couldn’t breathe, only letting up when Shouta grazed his teeth over his bottom lip. Hizashi moaned and Shouta sucked at his throat, hands trailing down Hizashi’s chest and over his nipple, taking care to slow his touches as he crossed over the stud there.

Shouta remembered when he got that nipple piercing. They were still teenagers at the time and Hizashi had gotten into an argument with his mother over it. She let him grow out his hair, she let him wear the most obnoxiously bright glasses he could find, her only condition to letting him stay up until the early hours of the morning working on his radio show was that his grades didn’t suffer and he only did it once a week. The piercing, though, was where she drew the line.

He scoped out pretty much every piercing shop in Musutafu, desperate to find one that wouldn’t ask too many questions, much less demand parental consent.

The one he settled for in the end was more than a little bit seedy and almost certainly at the epicenter of criminal activity. Shirakumo insisted on bringing a camera and perfectly captured the exact moment the piercing gun punctured Hizashi’s body and he regretted everything.

It was as sensitive now as it was then, leaving Hizashi moaning into his open mouth. Hizashi ground his hips against Shouta’s, bare skin colliding with bare skin. Shouta’s mind fell blank at the feel of Hizashi’s hard dick against his own, the sudden stimulation sending shivers down his spine.

He had never felt anything like this before. He ran a hand down Hizashi’s back, gripping onto his bare ass as he thrust his hips against him.

“Shouta,” said Hizashi, “do you trust me?”

It was a weird question and Shouta laid back, taking in his flushed face and tousled hair.

“What kind of question is that?”

“But do you?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” he said, taking hold of both of his hands and laying them on the floor, one on either side of his head. “Put your hands up.”

Shouta watched, bewildered, as he let go and sat up onto his knees, spreading Shouta’s legs and maneuvering himself into the gap.

“What...are you…”

His stomach fluttered, imagination running wild with possibilities.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” said Hizashi sheepishly. “Ever since I found out what happened at Ego ...I know what (Name) feels like...I know what she sounds like...but I don’t know that about you .”

He scratched his chin and took a long look at Shouta’s body.

“Sho,” he said, “I want to know what you sound like.”

Shouta recalled his own dreams; the numerous obscene scenarios that had entered his imagination after he realised you and Hizashi had slept together. He and Hizashi couldn’t have been any more different, but when it came to the important things they were the same.

He nodded, taking note of the gleam in Hizashi’s eyes, heart skipping a beat as he spat in his open palm and took hold of both of their cocks.

Hizashi jerked him -both of them- hard and fast, so quickly that Shouta couldn’t keep track of his movements, only the shuddering it sent through his body. The last time he had had sex with another person was with you. Any time he came after that had been purely accidental.

It didn’t take much for him to moan in desperation, for him to dig his fingers into the carpet above his head. He sucked in a deep breath, close to the point of no return, only for Hizashi to stop. Shouta glanced up at him, wondering if he’d done something wrong or Hizashi had changed his mind.

The truth couldn’t have been more infuriating. Hizashi gazed down at him, mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, you,” Shouta said, realising the situation he was in, “you fucker .”

“I mean, if we’re going to be technical,” said Hizashi, pointing down at their hips, “you’re just as guilty as me on that front.”

Shouta lifted his hands, wanting nothing more than to drag Hizashi to the ground.

“Ahhh, no,” said Hizashi, “hands up, remember?”

Shouta cursed under his breath, but obeyed, laying his hands flat against the carpet.

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for this. He knew Hizashi was into edging. Hizashi was into anything that left his partner a shuddering mess.

After a few more seconds of torture, Hizashi took hold of their dicks again, jerking them slowly this time. He took the time to run his fingers along the underside of Shouta’s cock, along the sensitive spot right underneath the tip and giving it a perfectly timed squeeze. Shouta bucked his hips into his touches, willing him to go faster, but Hizashi did quite the opposite. He slowed down to an infuriatingly slow pace, watching in satisfaction as Shouta’s hands twitched, eager to finish the job.

Truth be told, Shouta really did trust him. That was the only thing keeping him still. He could have kicked him off at any moment, could have escaped his grip without breaking a sweat. He didn’t want to, though. Every second he spent there, moaning and frustrated, he wasn’t thinking about his failures. Right then that was all he needed.

Only when Shouta had gotten used to this new pace did Hizashi go faster, jerking at both of their cocks just as quickly as before, only this time squeezing tighter. Shouta dug his nails into his palms, tracing over the familiar calluses and holding his breath, stomach clenching and body tensing in anticipation of the pleasure to come. Just as before, though, Hizashi slowed down.

“Not long now,” said Hizashi, “just a little more.”

Shouta prepared himself for another round of slow, gentle touches, only to be completely taken off guard. Hizashi jerked them both fast and hard, so hard that it sent Shouta over the edge with only a couple of minutes. His mind fell blank and he called out in pleasure, wriggling in place as he spilled all over Hizashi’s fingers, liquid pleasure seeping from Hizashi’s fist and onto his stomach, all while Hizashi continued to pump. Shouta cried out from overstimulation; Hizashi whined as his own climax came, leaving his own cum to escape his fist and mix with Shouta’s until the pair of them were a sweating mess.

Hizashi let go and gasped for air, covered in a sheen of sweat and the occasional drop of cum on his chest. He looked down at Shouta, who was just as breathless, body still twitching from release.

Shouta barely noticed as Hizashi moved to lie down next to him. He was too far gone to pay attention to anything other than the pleasure rushing through his body.

“You know,” panted Hizashi, “you can’t do that every time you want me to shut up.”

“Why not? Seemed to work.”

Shouta glanced around the room; at their discarded clothes and dirty bodies. He knew it would bother him later, but right then he didn’t care about very much of anything. He looked over his shoulder, taking in Hizashi’s flushed face beside him. The softness was fading from it, back to the one of concern from when he arrived.

“Shall we talk about it?”

Shouta sighed, looking away.

“We really should talk about it,” said Hizashi, reaching for his glasses. “We’ll need to-umph!”

Shouta had reached for one of the peaches on his coffee table. The same one currently stuffed in Hizashi’s mouth.

“Later,” said Shouta, to which Hizashi sighed and sank his teeth into the peach.

They lay there in silence for quite some time, Hizashi making it about halfway through the fruit before Shouta began to speak.

“With my life,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“I trust you with it,” he said, grabbing a peach of his own and taking an enormous bite before he could say anything embarrassing.

Well, he thought as Hizashi squeaked through a mouthful of peach, visibly delighted by the revelation, even more embarrassing.

~~~~~

The rest of the day passed quickly.

Shouta frowned through the bathroom door as a towel-clad Hizashi rifled through his wardrobe in search of a suit for the upcoming media interview.

Visiting hours came to a close and Nemuri planted a kiss to your forehead before returning home.

Tsukauchi stayed awake long into the night, going over strategies and making phone calls.

Nezu lit a cigar and stared into the smoke as it hit the night air, contemplating potential futures and outcomes.

You slept through all of it, completely unaware of the struggles of everyone around you.

Night fell and your room remained untouched by the world outside. You stayed asleep as police guarded the corridors; as media outlets scrambled for answers. You didn’t move as midnight struck and someone climbed through your bedroom window. Someone who, realistically, should have known better.

You stayed still and oblivious as they stood at the foot of your bed, taking in your freshly painted fingernails and tranquil expression.

They came and went from your room like a ghost, whispering an apology in your ear and planting a kiss on your forehead, willing you to remember it.

You didn’t remember it.

When you woke up, in fact, quite some time later, you didn’t remember much of anything. You didn’t know where you were, didn’t know how you’d gotten there.

You were sure of only one thing: that the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a punnet of fresh peaches.

#bnha #erasermic #aizawa shouta x yamada hizashi #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #eraserhead x reader #habanero

69 notes · View notes

chaoticallysapphic · 4 years ago

Text

the great divide epilogue

summary: Who knew that eight words would be your undoing. If you had known then what you know now you wouldn't have signed up for Suyin's dance troupe, you probably would have left Zaofu just to be safe. But you didn't and fate had branded you with a path that chained you to someone who would break your heart.

a/n: can this even be counted as an epilogue with a sequel on it’s way? It’s been a while since I’ve read a physical book and can’t remember if epilogues are reserved for the very end of a series or can be used at the end of any book. Eh, who cares? As always thank you to @medeliadracon for beta reading this!

word count: 2k

The end of her rule is anticlimactic. It doesn’t end with a victory but instead, with you, limp in her arms with blood all around the two of you. It ends with Suyin ordering some of her men to cuff Kuvira’s soldiers so they can be transported to a prison where they will serve the next two years of their lives. It ends with her defeat as she watches all her hard work wash away like it meant nothing.

Eighty people, the rebels, come up to Korra to admit you helped free them and how they were fighting on the Avatar’s side the whole time so she spares them. Kuvira looks down at your sleeping form to avoid the varying expressions of her former soldiers, ranging from angry to disappointed.

A few hours later someone closes the trunk and drives them back to Zaofu so you can be admitted to the hospital there. All of Korra’s men head to Zaofu on sky bison. Kuvira sits in the back of the jeep with you, she can’t hold you with her cuffed hands but before they cuffed her she gently placed your head onto her lap.

Everyone had watched the way Kuvira cared for you with eyes full of shock. She doesn’t care, not anymore. She almost lost you, the idea of appearance and image escaped her mind as all she thinks about is holding you in some way so she knows you're safe. When they pull up to the tram it takes multiple people to help both you and Kuvira out of the trunk. It’s still a bit slippery from your blood and with her cuffed hands she needs someone to help her get down.

The avatar holds you for her as they enter the tram, she wants to break out of these stupid cuffs and rip you out of her arms but she knows she can’t, not if she wants a future with you. So instead Kuvira inches closer so she can at least hold your hand. When it stops in the main dome she sees her men being escorted out by the Zaofu guard. They step out and her eyes find your mom who is decked out in her grand armor, commanding the men below her on where to take Kuvira’s former soldiers.

When her eyes flicker to the avatar and she sees you limp in her arms she forgets her job and races forward, dropping the staff in her hands. Korra slowly walks down the stairs from the platform so she can take you to the hospital but your mom is waiting at the bottom of the stairs as she holds back a sob.

“She’s alive,” Kuvira says softly, a little bit of the tension in her leaves, Kuvira’s words comforting her just the slightest. Once Korra is in front of your mom she takes you out of her arms, choking out “Oh baby.”

“We need to get her to the hospital. She’ll live but she needs to be monitored and will need a few more healing sessions before she can leave,” Korra says. Your mom nods as she begins walking towards the large hospital that’s situated not too far from here.

Kuvira follows, keeping in step with her so she can at least remain close to you. Once inside Kuvira catches the attention of a nurse who brings out a stretcher for you and carts you off to a room to be further examined, both Kuvira and your mom sit in the waiting room.

It’s quiet for a while, neither of them talking before finally, your mom asks “what happened?”

Kuvira’s brows furrow as she tries to make sense of the last few hours, it’s all so blurry and loud in her mind. She just remembers the warmth of your blood on her hands and her screaming out for help, the way her words scratched up her throat as desperation filled her senses.

“I…” Kuvira starts. “We were talking and the fight started and she tried to show me how I could help by ending it” Kuvira’s hand comes up to her mouth as she begins to cry. Your mother doesn’t move to comfort her, waiting for Kuvira to continue. “It was meant for me, she pushed me out of the way so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

Your mother's fists clench and she lets out a deep sigh, trying to control her emotions. “What happened next?” Kuvira looks over at her with a painful expression as she recalls the way you tried to cling to her when she set you down to drive.

“I drove us to Korra, she had waterbenders so I knew one of them had to be a healer.”

Your mother nods as she stands up, tears glisten in her eyes as she says “I need to call her father,” before walking away. She’s gone for roughly an hour, Kuvira thinks. In that timespan, she stares down at her hands now caked in dried blood as she tries to make sense of the last twenty-four hours. When you finally wake up, which you will, Kuvira reminds herself, she’ll go wherever you want even if that’s the frigid cold of the south pole.

Finally, your mother returns with your father in tow who pulls both women in a hug. “She’s gonna be okay,” he says, mostly for himself. When he pulls away his face is red as tears race down his chubby cheeks, your mother reaches up to wipe them away for him even though she’s crying as well.

A nurse walks into the waiting room that only houses the three of them and clears her throat. Everyone twists around to look at her, your father is the one to ask “can we see her?”

The nurse nods, eyeing them, her eyes narrow when they land on Kuvira before drifting back over to your parents. “Yes, she’s awake but very tired so you’ll probably only get a bit of time with her before she’s asleep again.”

Your father lets out an excited, wet laugh as he nods vigorously, “Thank you, can you show us to her?” The nurse nods and begins leading everyone up a set of stairs and to the left down a hall lined with doors. The hospital is so white and pristine, Kuvira feels so out of place and looks behind her to make sure she’s not tracking mud around the place.

When the nurse stops in front of a door labeled 203 that has your name in the place card Kuvira feels her heart speed up, “I’ll wait out here and let you guys have some time alone with her.” Your mother sends her a grateful look before she opens the door, they leave the door open so Kuvira takes a seat next to it so she can at least hear your voice.

“Hi” she hears you croak out, your voice is raspy and low, you sound so tired. Your father lets out a sob as she hears his feet skid across the floor and a quiet “oof” escapes you.

“Honey, don’t suffocate her, we just got her back,” your mother says in a half-joking manner. The rustling of sheets can be heard as Kuvira can only assume she's hugging you as well.

“We’re just so relieved you're okay.”

“I’m okay, just a little banged up,” you say in a reassuring tone.

There’s sniffling and hushed whispers of “we love you” as all three of them cries. Kuvira feels like she’s intruding on a private moment but her feet seem stuck to the floor.

Your dad is the one that asks the question burning within her, “You're gonna stay here right? We’ve missed you so much.”

“Well I don’t know, I haven’t talked to Kuvira yet. I’d like to though.” Kuvira’s heart skips a beat at her name leaving your lips. Spirits for a moment there, back on the jeep, she thought she’d never hear you say it again. “Well she better be okay with it, I mean after all the years spent following her around the earth kingdom one would think you’d get to cho-”

“Honey,” your father interrupts your mother. She threads her fingers together and squeezes tightly, will she ever gain the respect your mother once had for her back? “Sorry I just… I’ll support you no matter what I’m just a little… peeved.”

“Is she here?” You say hesitantly, you sound so unsure of yourself that Kuvira wants to take the two steps it’d take to reveal herself. “Suyin didn’t arrest her yet, right?”

“No, don’t worry she hasn’t been taken away, she just wanted to give us some time alone with you.” A sigh escapes you at your mother's words, “Do you want to see her?”

Not even a second later you reply “yes.” The shuffling of feet can be heard as they both say their goodbyes and “I love you”’s once more before walking towards the door. Kuvira moves down a seat so it doesn’t look like she was eavesdropping and looks at the platinum cuffs locked tightly over her wrists.

“She wants to see you,” your father says, Kuvira looks up at him and thickly swallows, slowly nodding. “We’re gonna get her some clean clothes, maybe some food. Are you hungry?” By now the sun is starting to go down, that piece of bread and apple didn’t last too long, as Kuvira is about to say no because she doesn’t want to be an inconvenience. He speaks for her “I’m sure you are, we’ll get you something too.”

Kuvira opens her mouth to decline but your parents are already walking away arm in arm. She sighs, shoulders slumping. Her wrists are already starting to hurt and she feels anxiety twist around within her as she realizes you’re waiting for her. You're awake and waiting for her and who knows what you’ll say.

She lets out a deep, shuddering sigh and walks through the door, you look up as you hear her enter and bite your lip. Your cheeks and neck are stained red, it looks like someone wiped away the handprints which is a relief, but your hair is a bit matted with it and your arms are tinted red as well. You look so pale.

You eye her, your shoulders tensing at the disheveled sight of her. “That’s a lot of�� red.”

She looks down and sees how her clothes are practically coated in it. “Oh yeah, you bled out a lot.” She clears her throat and looks back up, your shoulders sag a bit, “so none of it’s yours?” Kuvira shakes her head and suddenly you look so relieved.

She takes a step closer and then another and another when you don’t stop her. You offer her a weak smile as she slowly picks up one of your hands and holds it between hers. “You almost died,” she whispers, scared that if she says it loud enough she’ll speak into existence.

“But I didn’t,” is your reply. Kuvira scoffs, having to look away as images of you bleeding out all over the trunk resurface. “Hey,” you gently tug on her hand until she looks into your eyes. “I’m alive, thanks to you.”

“You almost died, thanks to me.” Her voice cracks and she squeezes her eyes shut as tears escape her. “Why would you do that? Why would you take the hit for me?”

You give her a look of disbelief as you softly reply with a voice full of love that has an edge to it “because I love you, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Promise me you won’t, please,” her bottom lip trembles, suddenly her hands feel warm and slick with your blood again. She feels like her legs may give out. “Please.”

You shake your head ever so slowly, “I can’t promise you something I won’t keep.” She lets a groan of frustration so you tug her closer until she’s sitting on the edge of your bed, facing you. “If you ever die and there was a way I could have prevented it I’ll spend the rest of my life hating myself. So just… stop putting yourself in danger if you don’t want me to get hurt again.”

Kuvira is about to offer some kind of retort about how she won’t be in any kind of danger for the foreseeable future due to her house arrest but you squash it by pulling her closer and softly pressing your lips against her own. Kuvira gasps, you slip your tongue in her mouth and caress her tongue before pulling away, you give her a peck on the lips as you're pulling away.

“If I ask you to stay here in Zaofu, would you?” It’s silent for a few moments as she processes your request. Part of her wants to leave this place and never return, but she knows Zaofu like the back of her hand, she knows where the good tea is, which store has the best produce, which shops rip you off, and where to go to eat for any occasion.

She thinks of your parents, of how much they missed you and how much you missed them. How she might not have anything that makes her want to stay here, but you do. So she nods and wets her lips before saying, “yes, I will.”

And for a moment that great divide between the two of you seems to cave in as your beautiful face breaks out into a glorious grin.

#the great divide #kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok #lok fanfic #legend of korra

143 notes · View notes

havenoffandoms · 4 years ago

Note

Hello and congrats on 800 followers!!! Could I ask for an Eskel x female cat Witcher!reader with prompts 3 or 5? Thanks 😊

Hi anon! Thanks so much and thanks for this really fun combination of prompt. Here’s my little silly take on cat!witcher!reader x Eskel. Hope you like it.

Send your prompt requests here.

Cat!Witcher!reader x Eskel: “it’s really not that complicated” (prompt 3) and “we could get arrested for this” (prompt 5)

“Would you hurry up, wolf?” you urge your travel companion as he struggles to pick a simple lock, “it’s really not that complicated, for the love of the gods.”

“You try and pick a lock in a tight space with little to no natural light,” you hear the witcher known as Eskel snide back. A guttural groan pushes past his lips as he tugs on the lock in his frustration. “Fucking thing!”

“Oh, get out of my damn way,” you snap at him as you squeeze yourself into said tight space, elbowing Eskel in the ribs as you wriggle up to where the lock is resisting the wolf witcher, “here, watch an expert at work.”

“Why am I not surprised that you Cat witchers know how to pick locks?” Eskel punctuates his words with a pointed eyeroll.

“At least Guxart taught us some street smarts. What do you bring to the table, your theoretical knowledge of monsters? Your working knowledge of poetry? How’s that gonna help, you gonna bore the guards to death by reciting a couple of verses?”

“Fuck you.”

“Make me,” you hiss in response, but your mood quickly brightens when you hear the familiar ‘click’ sound as the lock yields under your nimble fingers. You pull on it harshly and manage to open the trap door, your only escape out of these dungeons. “Hah! Where does that take us?”

“Sewers, judging by the stench,” Eskel remarks, his nose scrunching up in distaste. You can’t help but agree with your companion on this one. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.”

“Let’s go, then.”

With the agility worthy of your namesake, you jump down yet another hole tight and land on your feet and hands. You keep this position long enough to assess your surroundings, your yellow-green eyes picking up every movement without needing to use a Cat potion. Unlike Eskel, who is probably downing one as you wait for him to follow you into the sewers. Once you are satisfied that there is no immediate danger, you rise to your full height and silently slip along the humid walls. You hear rats squeaking in the distance and scattering as the sound of Eskel landing next to you spook them.

“Any idea which direction we should be taking, street-smarts?”

“Well, the exit was north-west of our cell, so I’m gonna take a wild guess and say we should be heading that way,” you point in the direction you were referring to, “you got your swords?”

“Duh,” is all Eskel offered in response, “do you think so little of me?”

“Do you want an honest answer to that question? C’mon, we’ve wasted enough time waiting for you to drink that stupid Cat potion.”

You ignore Eskel’s grumbled response and take off without another word. You and Eskel have known each other for years. You first met on the path after he saved you from a particularly aggressive female wyvern. The beast was in heat and very territorial, and she did not appreciate anyone interrupting her mating rituals. There had been no contract on her head, you just happened to have the worst of luck. After Eskel saved you, he could hardly believe that he was not only standing face to face with a witcher from the School of the Cat, notoriously responsible for the creation of a famously vicious breed of emotionally-volatile assassins, but face to face with a female witcher no less. Your school often trained women, but very few of those were put through the trials and even fewer survived. You managed to beat the odds. You’re exceptionally good at what you do, which is why you and Eskel got along so well.

After months of travelling together, and after a boozy night following a successful contract, you and Eskel became lovers. At first, it was purely physical, but as the months bled into years you realised that it was nice to have someone to go back to after an exceedingy shitty year on the Path. You started to miss Eskel after prolonged periods of not seeing each other and that’s when you admitted to yourself that it had stopped being purely physical a long time ago. You couldn’t let Eskel know, though. It would only get to his head. That’s why you settled for the tough love approach instead. It worked fine. Eskel had yet to run away.

Your train of thought is interrupted when you hear the familiar hiss of drowners in the darkness. You and Eskel simultaneously unsheathe your swords and brace yourself for an attack. One drowner sneaks up on Eskel from behind, but you notice it first out of the corner of your eyes and blast Igni in its face. In the meantime, Eskel hacks off the arm of another beast before running his silver sword through its abdomen, killing it with one powerful thrust. In the distance, you hear the echoes of more drowners heading your way.

“Shit. We need to fucking hurry.”

You run blindly through the labyrinth of underground tunnels. The truth is that neither of you knows where the exit is, or if there even is an exit. There has to be, you reason, the sewers always lead somewhere. Traditionally to a river, at least. There had to be an exit, or else the underground tunnels would be flooded and you would be swimming in shitwater by now. The fact that you aren’t is a fucking sign right? Right?

“There? You feel that?” Eskel suddenly speaks and instantly every hair on your body bristles in anticipation.

“Feel what?”

“A draught.” Yes. You do feel it now that Eskel mentioned it. “Follow me. Turn to the left.”

You follow Eskel through the sewers, and to the relief of you both, you’re running away from the nest of drowners rather than towards it. Under any other circumstance neither of you would’ve shied from a group of drowners, but you were trying to escape and not draw more attention to yourself. Some other witcher, one that was preferably not wanted in Temeria, could take care of that one.

“We’re getting closer,” you say when your nose picks up the smell of fish and seawater, “we’ve almost made it.”

You and Eskel reach an opening several frantic minutes later, at once out of breath but also relieved that you managed to find your way out of those dungeons. It’s dark outside, which will help you and Eskel escape without raising too much attention, or so you hope. You both manage to exit the sewers soundlessly. Even Eskel with his impressive size manages to stealth his way past guards and civilians alike. Not as flawlessly as yourself, mind you, but you weren’t one to brag.

Well, maybe a little bit, but there would be time for boasting later.

“Hey look, there’s some horses there,” you tell him, your voice too quiet for any mortal ear to pick up but you knew Eskel could hear you loud and clear.

“No. I need to get back to Scorpion.”

“Oh good gods - really? Eskel, we don’t have time for this. Scorpion is stabled near the city gates… at the other side of fucking town.”

“I’m not leaving Scorpion.”

With that, Eskel takes off in the opposite direction, leaving you to ponder whether you should follow him or go your own way and hope that your paths will cross again eventually. Fuck it, who are you kidding, you wouldn’t let that idiot risk his life for a stupid horse on his own. Well, if he gets caught you might just let him ride it out for a while… you know, just to teach him a lesson.

You follow Eskel’s trail, making sure to remain unseen. Your hand reaches up and touches your witcher medallion, shaped in the form of a cat’s head, something you’ve done since the trials to ground you, to calm your nerves. After what felt like the longest fucking chase ever, you see Eskel pressed against the wall of the stables that you recognise as the place you two had left your horses in two days ago when you first arrived. Eskel peeks around the corner, checking for guards, and when he’s satisfied that he hasn’t been spotted he climbs up the side of the building at a surprising speed. You curse under your breath, but follow him up onto the roof of the building.

“You know we could get arrested for this?” you tell him once you reach the top. Eskel raises an eyebrow, a mocking grin tugging at the scarless corner of his lips. Anticipating his smartass remark, you hiss: “I’ve just sneaked out of a dungeon, I don’t fancy another trip through those sewers.”

“Don’t worry, this won’t take you long.”

“Me? Whatever do you mean, me?” Your eyes land on the chimney and its opening, too narrow for Eskel to fit through, but not too narrow to fit… you. Oh, the bastard was going to pay for this. When you turn to glare at your companion, all you can see is the protruding lower lip and the pleading eyes.

“No…”

“Please? Scorpion means the world to me.”

“What about me?” you snap, forcing yourself to look away or risk falling for Eskel’s pretty face all over again, “don’t I mean the world to you?”

“Of course,” he says, his tone growing softer, “and I’m sure if the situations were reversed, Scorpion would do the same for you.”

“Urgh, fine!” you eventually relent despite the absurdity of Eskel’s last comment, “but you owe me for this.”

To this day you don’t know how you and Eskel didn’t get caught sneaking a massive war stallion out of the stables, nor how you two managed to escape the guards at the city gates. It certainly made for an interesting story that winter when you and Eskel travelled back to Kaer Morhen.

Lambert relentlessly teases you for ‘growing too soft’ and ‘being wrapped around Eskel’s little finger’, but when you see the open adoration written plainly on Eskel’s face as soon as he and you retreat back to his room, well, you simply don’t find it in yourself to truly mind all that much.

#eskel x reader #eskel x you #eskel x y/n #cat witcher reader #havenwrites #prompt list #send requests #requests open #eskel #the witcher #reader insert

94 notes · View notes

thecandywrites · 3 years ago

Text

Jewel Of The North Chapter 12

Woo, I know it’s been a hot minute. But I gotta show Doug and Alorna getting their comupance because JUSTICE and REVENGE. Also, I wanted to send our little blended family on a cruise. Not just any cruise, but a Disney Cruise. Have I have been on a Disney Cruise? No. Do I want to? Yes. Did I watch three and a half hours worth of cruise videos talking about the Disney cruise ships and clubs and concierge level stuff for research? Yes. Is it crazy stupid expensive? Yes. Is this an escape fantasy from The Plague I’m living in? Yes. Also because this is a fantasy story. I’m smudging reality. Becuase those pictures are from the Disney Dream, but last I knew it was the Disney Wonder that was in Alaska. But can I leave things there? No. Because I’m a Dramatic Bitch. And I live for the drama. And yes this has been sitting in my drafts for...way too long. But a few more bumps in the road, some hurdles AND THEN happily ever after. We are getting there.

Jewel Of The North

Chapter 12

Noah’s jaw was on the floor when you came out of the bathroom in the “infamous” gold dress as Noah wolf whistled.

“Wow. That’s the gold dress eh?” Noah asked as he openly gawked at your body in it.

“Yep. It’s the “gold maneater”. Every time my kids see me in it before now, they’ve always complained, because both already have to deal with enough of the “your mom’s a MILF” comments as it is and they think it's too risque for a woman my age. I actually got this dress as a dare from Tasha who said I need a “back on the market and on the menu” dress. Blossom calls it my “get dicked down dress”.” You laughed as you struck a few poses for him as Noah had a hard time forming a coherent sentence and simply made a string of half word-like sounds along the lines of ‘yeah’ ‘mmhmm’ of agreement as he simply settled for gestures of approval and agreement cause his words were failing him.

“Yeah..that’s...that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” Noah reassured you which made you laugh even harder.

“Oh I know. It’s the last night of the cruise, I wanted to go out with a bang.” You shrugged as you slipped your shawl on.

“Ready?” You asked him.

“I uh, I’ll need…” Noah tried to hint as he tried to adjust the bulge in his pants, it had only been hours since you had sex shortly after lunch, but he couldn’t help his reaction to you and he doubted he ever would get used to you or stop reacting to you like this.

“A moment?” You guessed as you beamed smugly, happy to elicit such a reaction from him, even after you thought he would be sated, at least for a few hours but you would be lying if you claimed you didn’t want Noah to try to rip this dress off of you and ravish you- preferably after dinner because you had worked up an appetite.

Being married to your former husband, Andrew, he was ok in bed. But he wasn’t necessarily “sexy” to you, at least in looks. He meant safety, security, stability and comfort for you when you met him and married him but eventually, the spark left, the more narcissistic traits you saw and experienced and the more of an ‘asshole’ he acted and the less natural chemistry you had. He didn’t always know how to get your engine revving and keep it revving. Mentally or emotionally which eventually bled into physically.

But Noah? Oh, all you had to do was think about him and your whole body was humming and buzzing with delight, anticipation and- what you had thought was your long past dead sex drive- which thanks to the awakening it received from Noah, was very much alive and well and practically insatiable with Noah and even though you were losing count of how many times you had had sex, or made love in all of it’s forms, you hungered for more. And with just a look, a touch, or gesture, or especially warm, wonderful words and deeds from Noah and it was all over for you. He was...everything you had ever wanted or needed and you were so grateful you had waited for him because he had been worth the wait and definitely worth all the effort and he made all the bad times and obstacles and trials and tribulations up to this point- worth it and was the last piece of the puzzle and completed everything and you couldn’t wait for him to fully join and complete your family.

Once Noah “recovered” enough, you went to dinner and if Noah had thought you garnered a lot of attention in the red dress, it was nothing compared to the attention you received in the gold dress. He never heard so many ‘god damn’s’ or ‘wow’s’ or even ‘holy fucking shit’s’ from guys and even other women when you strut past, with your arm happily hooked in the crook of Noah’s elbow.

You were happy that his own gold tie matched your dress flawlessly so that it was clearly evident that you were a couple and one hell of an attractive one and you couldn’t help but notice how the women who weren’t looking at you, were staring in awe at Noah. And while you, understandably, weren’t necessarily one of the jealous types, it filled you with pride to be on his arm to show him off, cleaned up and looking like a million bucks himself and you felt so lucky to be with him.

Even after dinner, when you went to one of the “clubs” on board, it was wonderful when Noah danced with you. Andy didn’t dance and hated to dance with you even though you loved to do so and would begrudgingly dance with you at weddings, only when you begged and pleaded for him to.

Noah though? The man, thank the gods, had rhythm, and could keep up with you on the dance floor and the two of you danced really well and the chemistry you had in the bedroom spilled out everywhere else. You were so focused on grinding on Noah with his hands possessively on your hips and riding the hypnotic beats from the music to notice how Doug stared in disbelief as he watched from a safe distance while Alorna was in the restroom and felt jealousy eat him alive, that could have been him. He could have been the one to dance with the hot millionaire MILF. What did Noah honestly have that he didn’t? Was it because he was an ice orc instead of a “traditional” green one? Or was it the plane? Probably the plane.

When Alorna came back she scuffed in disgust to see you and Noah on the dancefloor cutting it up, like you were in your own little worlds as she watched how all the guys who had been staring in desire at her, were now staring at you, their jaws on the floor and their hard ons tenting their pants.

“Come on Baby, lets go back to the casino, let her have this little tiny club, I’m feeling lucky tonight.” Doug insisted to get Alorna out of there before she started a fight because he could see the fire in her eyes that she wanted to start one.

“So do I.” Alorna cooed as they strut out of there and went back to the casino and in the beginning they were winning back all their previous losses, but just like any casino, the longer they played, the more they lost until they lost even more than what they had previously won and then some.

But all of that was a world away from you and Noah.

You barely made it back to the room before Noah hiked your dress up, pulled your breasts out, moved your slimming panties to the side and fucked you into the back of the door of your room while sucking on your tits as you moaned and keened in ecstasy, to the point no one could pass by the hallway without knowing exactly what you were up to inside the room and by the time you made it to the bed, your dress was ripped, Noah’s buttons on his shirt had popped off and the room looked like a hurricane had torn through it and Noah and yourself slept like the dead, having worn each other out half the night.

In the morning, you both got the remainder of your things together and checked out of the room and were happy when even with some shopping on board, you still had left over credit and you had the cruise cut Noah the check for your surplus and just as you disembarked, you watched as Alorna and Doug were arrested by four police officers as they had tried to disembark.

“Get your hands off me!” Alorna screeched as she struggled as Doug was struggling too before both of them got tazed and pissed themselves as you and Noah gasped as you watched on from a safe distance before you two couldn’t help but snicker a laugh as everyone else watched on eagerly and laughed as they recorded it to upload it onto YouTube as the cruise simply handed them a very hefty bill, from not just their room and drinks and spa services and add ons but also a bill for tens of thousands owed at the casino.

“Wouldn’t want to be them.” You practically sang to Noah as you both laughed, watching them get their comeuppance.

“Me neither.” Noah shook his head as you both eagerly watched as they were hauled off and you and Noah got your baggage and got a taxi to the hotel you would be staying in tonight before you would have to go to the airport the next day and each of you would fly your separate ways home.

Once at the hotel you went ahead and booked the Disney cruise for the dates that worked best and went ahead and booked things for all the kids, the extra experiences and excursions you could, you wanted Sakura to have the princess treatment, and knew that Skylar, for as tomboyish as she was, she wouldn’t say no to some pampering, nor Zane for that matter as you did the same for things for you and Noah as Noah made plans of where he was going to park his plane and stuff and meet back up for the cruise before you made more plans of how you were going to move Noah and his own animals and pets and things down for the winter and when and even ordered new things to decorate Sakura’s room with because you were taking Sakura, and her pets home with you after the two families met and would hopefully, with all fingers crossed, would get along and get her on your insurances, get her in school and get her room ready for her so that moving in would be as easy and hopefully seamless as could be and even made plans so that Noah could fly his family down to see where Noah and Sakura would settle in for the winter and have a chance to have a really big, proper gosbe and merging of the two families in September as everyone in your family was eager to meet Noah and Sakura and their family too.

You spent the last night together holding each other tightly, making promises and plans as you made love slowly, savoring every nano second because it would be a while before you would have the opportunity to have this pleasure with each other for a while. The next morning at their airport, Noah waited with you at the gate since your flight left before his, not wanting to spend a single second without you- that he didn’t have to and gave you one hell of a kiss goodbye.

Several hours later, you both arrived home and while you were happy to be home, you missed Noah and Sakura especially and once the kids were dropped off at home, you sat them down to bring them up to speed with the first part of your plan and were surprised when both of them were ok and at peace with it, and strangely- eagerly looking forward to it and when they asked about the second part of the plan, of Noah and Sakura moving in with you for the fall, winter and spring and Noah working on flipping the estates while they were in school and you were at work- they were actually impressed and relieved that Noah would be “pulling weight” and working with your dad on the houses too and were more interested in the how rather than the why of the matter because they could tell that you genuinely loved Sakura and Noah and they were grateful that at least Noah was “connected” to people they knew and trusted, mainly, your father.

“Ok, I’ll be honest, I totally thought I was going to have to do a lot more convincing.” You admitted to them once you seemed to have laid all your cards out on the table to them.

“Grandpa Gru vouched for him and when Grandpa Gru talked with Noah’s dad Ukluk and Noah’s former father in law Tonrar, we were right there and got to hear most of it and we got to talk to them too and they’ve been talking back and forth ever since and Grandpa Gru has been telling us about him and Sakura and they were really nice, and we got to talk to Summer and Isla and we got to talk to Noah’s siblings, well, all of them except Alorna, who’s apparently in jail for slandering you as a priestess, which isn’t cool, but you can’t please everyone. But otherwise we got to talk to his former siblings in law too and even Sakura’s cousins who all seem really cool and they’re all pretty normal, which is a good thing. And to hear all of them be honest about Noah and his situation and especially about Neena and their relationship and how he treated her and how he treats his family as well as the circumstances of her own death and how he’s dealt with it, in particular how he didn’t turn to the bottle or any other vices, or even his own temper, impressed us, like a lot. And instead of a “sales speech” about how great he is, to hear he’s imperfect and makes mistakes but tries his best and treats the people around him respectfully and really well and has honor and a strong sense of duty and was already making sacrifices for people around him, and has similar values that we have and has a very similar situation that we have. That was enough for us. We also comprised a list of questions for him.” Xander revealed before they showed you the list.

“Aww, this is really comprehensive.” You praised as you looked it over and grinned when you already knew the answers to most of these but you’d leave it to Noah to confirm them himself.

“Can I copy this?” You asked.

“Please do.” Skylar nodded before you went to your office and took a photocopy of the list, both sides before you took pictures and then took a pen and added a third page of things they didn’t come up with that Noah had to offer and things to talk about before you copied that and handed it to them to look at before you got a call from Noah.

“Yes?” You answered when you picked up only to hear Sakura’s voice on the other end.

“Hi Mama,” Sakura greeted you sleepily as you looked at your watch and noticed that it was bed time in her time zone as you yourself were feeling quite tired.

“Hi Honey,” You greeted, your heart melting in your chest as your soul ached to be holding her again.

“Can I have a bedtime story?” Sakura asked.

“Of course,” you readily agreed.

“I gotta read Sakura a bedtime story.” You informed your kids who both grinned knowingly and were happy to see you happy before you went upstairs to the bookshelf in your kid’s old playroom and got an appropriate story to read her and once Sakura was put to sleep, you talked with Noah and told him about the list and the developments with Sky and Zane and what your dad had done which Noah was very grateful for as Noah revealed that after you had boarded your plane and he was waiting for his own, that he got a call from your dad and the two talked for a couple of hours while he waited as your dad got to have a good conversation and came to an understanding and was surprisingly sympathetic and really nice and welcoming and Noah had a really good feeling that they were going to get along just fine and when he talked with your Mom, all your mom wanted to know was about his pets and horses and what he liked to to eat and drink and otherwise welcomed him with open arms which made you blow out a breath of relief you suggested that for next year that he would probably need to put an addition to his house for everyone which he was more than happy to agree to because his house currently was only a cottage sized house, big enough and cozy enough for Noah, you and Sakura but with adding Skylar and Xander and the menagerie to the mix, not so much. And even the barn would be cramped but Noah’s plot of land was definitely big enough to accommodate your needs and it could be made to work.

In just the span of three weeks, you had turned one of your guest bedrooms into a bedroom for Sakura and worked overtime to make it perfect while also working with your dad, your brothers and brothers in law to make sure the outbuilding, aka the man cave- was ready for Noah and and looked into zoning for several acres of land to see if you turn it into a runway so that Noah wouldn’t have to rent a space at another air field and looked into commissioning an airplane hanger to be built on the property too since you had bought up the surrounding farmland.

But that time seemed to fly by and now your children and yourself were waiting in the lobby of a hotel, waiting for Noah and Sakura to arrive while you and your children all played games on your phones as they were also waiting, having brought gifts for Sakura which were in gift bags while your own gifts had been a new suitcase full of new clothes and things for them both.

While all of you were excited, you were particularly anxious because the weather forecast told you that this week was going to have some storms and you weren’t sure how the cruise was going to go if the weather was bad, but you had an abundance of seasickness medicine and other medicines, just in case. You were prepared.

Finally Noah and Sakura made it into the hotel and the moment she saw you, she let go of Noah's hand and bolted for you.

"Mama!" Sakura shrieked in delight as you readily got up and closed the distance as you caught her in your arms and tried and failed not to cry, when you got to hold her again as you kissed each other all over as Noah came over and simply kissed you sweetly before the three of you made it back over to where Xander and Skylar were still hanging out in the lounge area, gift bags in hand and friendly smiles on their faces before Sakura got down and practically tackled Skylar and Xander with hugs which made the kids laugh as Noah was holding Sakura’s gifts for your own children.

“Hi, I'm Noatak, aka Noah, nice to meet you both.” Noah greeted your kids with a handshake which they were happy to give him, staring up at this mountain of a man, kind of awe but still a trace of fear because he was still just a little fear inspiring in person but they weren’t terrified or anything. His smile and demeanor and especially his energy was friendly and while they could tell he was nervous, he seemed to radiate calm and warmth, which is what Skylar picked up on the most and just by this first impression, she was cool. Xander, was still reserving his final judgement though.

“Hi, I'm Skylar, you can call me Sky for short,” Your daughter mirrored and echoed back to him as she watched as her little hand disappeared into his much larger one.

"And I'm Xander but you can call me Zane for short too." Xander replied before Sakura happily exchanged gifts as Zane and Sky were excited to see what Sakura would get them before a discussion was held about where to get dinner at before a place was decided that was within walking distance where the kids happily walked with their gifts, eagerly talking and getting to know each other which left you and Noah to walk hand in hand only a step behind them.

“Here, you left this.” Noah said as he tried to hand you a check for the entire amount that you had left him on the day he flew you out.

“Oh no you don’t. You need to keep that, it’s our money now, who knows when you’ll need it, moving can be expensive, as are planes, I know you already had plans to upkeep the plane this winter, I just made the “how” a little easier.” You argued as you took the check and promptly tore it into little pieces and stuffed the pieces into your pocket to burn later.

“Nice try though.” You cooed to him.

“Well then the moment we get back, I need to put you on my bank accounts so that you can access it anyway.” Noah insisted.

“Only if you’ll let me do the same for you and my own accounts.” You proposed.

“Only the small ones.” Noah gently countered.

“Fair enough.” You grinned with a soft chuckle.

Over dinner the kids brought out “the list” of questions as you and Noah sat side by side in the booth while the kids sat on the other side of the table as they went down the list while you waited for the food.

“So what was your first job?” Zane began.

“Well officially, the first job I had that came with a paycheck, was actually on a fishing boat, fishing for snow crabs and just about everything else under the sun up there and that’s how I saved up my money to buy the plane. But otherwise I have been flying with my dad in his plane since before I was old enough to legally drive as did my brother who actually flies for USPS.” Noah revealed which got all but Sakura to blink in surprise.

“Well that might come in handy, there’s supposed to be storms this week on the cruise, I’ll need your help getting my sea- legs.” You murmured.

“Oh there’s plenty of tricks to getting the seasickness to abate.” He reassured all of you which made you feel better about the prospect of spending a cruise on stormy seas as he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“So how did you know that our mom was the one for you?” Skylar asked which got Noah to bark a laugh for her bluntness.

“Direct, I like it, actually, she was the answer to a lot of prayers, the least of which was financial.” Noah began.

“I had been praying, ever since Neena died, so for a while now, for the right woman to look at Sakura and see a daughter, her daughter specifically and love her just as much as I do and would want to be her mother and would be an excellent mother at that and be what Sakura needed to help her heal from the loss of her first one. And have a future with her without erasing or ignoring the past and who would respect our culture and not look down on it, and would help her embrace it. And your mom did all of that and more, like so much more than I ever could have thought to hope for, much less pray for.” Noah answered as you practically glowed with pride next to him and smiled so adoringly at him and thanked all the gods for a man who finally recognized your contributions and gave you credit where it was due.

“Because she prayed with me to the same gods my first mama and all my grandparents pray to and then she showed me how she prayed to hers and we shared a lot of the same ones and she made me my summer solstice outfit, just like my first mama did, only better. And hugging her felt like I was hugging my first mama, that she loved me just as much.” Sakura volunteered which melted everyone’s hearts.

“And it became immediately apparent to me just on that first day that it was The Gods Will that everything that I packed for Taylor and her family, I packed two, and both sets made it and it just so happened that Noah needed everything that I had packed but he didn’t ask for any of it and I sincerely doubt he ever would have either. But he did appreciate it and was more than deserving of it too and while his house wasn’t the biggest or grandest house I’ve ever been in, he built it with his own two hands and he built it well and it was full of more love than anything which was very keenly felt. And I could tell that Noah took care of his house really well too, everything was in good working order, and well maintained and neat and orderly and pretty clean too. He’s been used to doing all the domestic chores along with earning an income and providing for his family just like me and trying to carry everything all by himself which is hard and a burden- I’m all too familiar with myself and he cooks really well too. So, win-win.” You added with a proud smile which got Sky to smile fondly and even Zane to grin as he sat on one side of Sakura while Skylar sat on the other side of her which Sakura couldn’t be happier about, being surrounded by her new family.

“So how did you know that Daddy was the one for you Mama?” Sakura asked you in turn.

“Well he also answered a lot of prayers for me too. So on the trip up to the Frozen Tundra, I had to take a flight and a short cruise up there and it was just non stop men with a few women too, both married, divorced, single, in and out of all kinds of relationships and it was just a barrage of mostly guys wanting to buy me every drink at every bar that they could make- in an effort to have sex with me and I was really sick of it, been sick of it for years now and I was worn down and weary of it all. Like even the spa manager on that first cruise ship tried to have sex with me so my guard was up and I figured I wouldn’t have a break from that until I got to Taylor’s house when surprise- surprise, even there, I ran into the same thing from her brother in law and the whole way up I had been praying that I would find a friend and find relief from all of that and lo and behold- Noah was there waiting for me to get off the boat and he didn’t flirt with me once on that first day or even the second and not really on the third either. He was nothing but respectful and professional to me even before I met him and after he met me in person he showed unbelievable restraint and self control which encouraged me to do the same, because the moment I saw him in person, I thought he was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on and there was that instant attraction, connection and chemistry and even with all of that, he let me just hang out and help him in exchange for flying me all over which I love flying and at the first subtle sign of discomfort from other’s advances, he didn’t hesitate to protect me and shield me from those unwanted advances from everyone else and it was such a welcome relief, like it was walking into a cool air conditioned room to rest and get replenished and feel completely safe while also feeling completely free and it was so wonderful to feel that after being in the oppressive heat all day with buzzing mosquitoes trying to suck every bit of blood and joy and peace from me they could and it was really nice and refreshing.” You began which got Noah to huff a laugh.

“That’s funny I felt the same way but kind of the opposite.” Noah said.

“I was oppressive heat?” You laughed.

“No, no, no, it was the opposite in that for me it felt like it was the never ending winter and oppressively cold, but with you- it was like getting that first warm breeze of summer, where the winter finally shakes it’s hold on everything and wishy washy spring where it’s cold one day and hot the next only to be cold the day after that- it felt like winter was finally over and once that warm summer breeze rolls in, it’s even and stable and you can trust that it’ll stay warm instead of trying to rip it away in two seconds, and you did smell like some tropical blooms in paradise, and what was really poignant, was that morning when I dropped Sakura off at my mom’s, my mom said her tea leaves told her that I would find Paradise that day and at the time I had no idea what she meant but the second I met you, it was crystal clear.” Noah explained.

“Which is why I called you Paradise at first Mama and because she showed me the tea leaves and then did some more and they told me that you were a really good mama, one of the best.” Sakura sighed dreamily as she smiled adoringly at you as you mirrored her.

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” You fawned as you picked up his hand and kissed the back of it sweetly before you reached across the table to stroke Sakura’s cheek with your palm and smiled even brighter when she leaned into your touch as Zane and Skylar smiled fondly too as that seemed to cement things for Skylar especially, the gods themselves picked Noah and Sakura out for them and through destiny itself, brought them together.

“So anyway, when I first came up, when I finally got to him- others tried to flirt with me, once he observed that I was tired and uncomfortable, he shut them down and stood up for me without asking for anything in return or trying to flirt with me himself even though at the time I would have probably flirted back but because he showed restraint, I showed some too and he was generous with me without any thought of being paid back for any of it and treated me like we’d been friends for years and we just got along and we clicked on just that base- friendship level because he thought I was married and I thought he was married and we both deeply respected those boundaries and didn’t push them and when we found out that we were both widowed, it didn’t jump straight from friends to romantic, it stayed friends and it grew very organically from there and he went above and beyond for me, helping me with my luggage, helping drive half my crap to Taylor’s house, and hugging him that first night felt like hugging home, only it wasn’t a home I had known yet and it was such a relief all around and a very welcome change.” You explained.

“Yeah except, because you were that wonderful paradise compared to everything else and it’s not like I wasn’t immediately attracted to you either. You were wonderful on the phone and then when I saw you coming down the pier with a plane load of cargo, I figured you were my fare but the closer you got, the more I could see and I had every intention of meeting you halfway but once I got a good look at you, my whole body just froze and my brain shut down and my eyes got tunnel vision and I just watched completely bewitched as the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life who looked like paradise incarnate, coming down the pier and so that’s why I just stupidly stood there and stared at you like an awkward teenager and then when you saw me, smiled politely and turned and called me and pulled me out of that daze, I almost said ‘sorry, we don’t get too many drop dead gorgeous women up here’ but that would have been incredibly unprofessional and inappropriate and my mouth has never worked that smoothly with my brain and then when I was driving you to the plane and I’m seeing every sailor, every passenger, every guy with a pulse stop, stare and do a double take, I thought I needed a warhammer strapped to my back and I thought I was going to be fighting all of them off just to keep you safe because we may live in a polite- modern society but that can change in a hot minute and I had to hide behind my sunglasses and I was terrified something was gonna happen to you and so I had to call Taylor and voice my concerns to her because again, didn’t want to be rude to you and told her that you needed a bodyguard and she told me to volunteer basically before she laughed and hung up.” Noah confessed.

“Really?” You and the kids all laughed in delight, grateful that there was that instant attraction and chemistry.

“Yeah, so like I just had to put myself on my best behavior because I did not want to mess up anything with you.” Noah explained.

“Well obviously it worked.” You reassured him.

“Plus when I met Sakura, I had the most overwhelming mothering urges towards her, like every instinct in my mind and body was telling me to love her and take care of her and do everything in my power to make sure she was ok and help her in any way I could, whether it benefited me or not. And when I got to hug and hold her for the first time, it was like I was holding you guys after I first gave birth to you. That ‘there you are, I’ve waited so long to finally meet you and I’m gonna love you forever.’ feeling.” You repeated and even now Noah still got misty eyed just thinking about it as Skylar had her arm around Sakura and hugged her tight too.

“And that’s exactly what I prayed for.” Noah repeated.

“And then to know that he wasn’t a stranger or just some guy- but to know that it was Grandpa Gru’s old airforce brother from another mother, that- that- was his dad and that our families had actually been old friends before my dad had moved us away, that if my parents had stayed we would have grown up together and probably would have been friends starting then too. And the fact that Taylor also vetted him for me, and that Taylor knew him and knew his family too so that I had not just that childhood connection but also have that mature adulthood character reference and his reputation alone was outstanding and the fact that he not only respected me but respected my profession too which is a really big deal, especially for me, when so many think it’s an invitation for solicitation, but not him, he recognized that it was, not just my bread and butter but actually my calling and was really helpful and supportive.” You mused.

“Well and likewise, because you were the first client since Neena died that didn’t haggle me or look down on me because I was an ice orc and a pilot and you didn’t treat me and my family like tourist attractions which has happened a lot before and you respected me and my profession which also went a long way too.” Noah confessed.

“Yeah, being objectified sucks, we just get objectified for different things. I’m actually worried that’s gonna happen on the cruise, that you and Sakura will get patronized because you’re ice orcs and get roped into posing for other guests who think you’re part of the experience.” You confessed.

“Nah, I wouldn’t, if Sakura and I brought our native regalia, maybe, but since we didn’t, I doubt that’ll happen, I don’t think people will care enough to notice us because usually we get ignored everywhere we go that isn’t home where we know everyone.” Noah reassured you.

“But, back to what we were talking about, the moment you came into my life, suddenly money was the last thing to matter to me, all that really mattered was Sakura and you, and making sure both of you were ok and taken care of and most of all safe.” Noah professed.

“Aww, I had the same feeling but especially for Sakura, like I knew you would be ok and could take care of yourself and I knew Sakura would be ok as long as you would be successful so making you as successful as possible so you could continue to care for her became my immediate goal. Which is why once I found out that your competition was undercutting you to steal your already limited pool of clients, I felt I needed to try to help any way I could and it ended up working out really well. And what worked out even better was that all the money that I made that first day, even when I went and didn’t expect to make any money at all, I spent helping you even more so that it was in no way a burden and the more I gave and the more I helped, the more blessing and happiness I got in return and the blessing didn’t stop at you and Sakura, it went to your family and Neena’s family too and even the clans, despite Alorna and Doug’s attempts to sabotage that because the seeds and things I brought from the lower 48 that I barely spent anything on- ended up getting split up and going to all the clans and it all got used and appreciated which is, at the end of the day, what matters.” You added.

“And it proved to everyone what a fine woman you were that even in the face of deep disrespect and sabotage that you kept your cool and kept your composure and were classy and gracious and respectful and still honored the clans and the council, which was the right thing to do, it wasn’t easy and I didn’t make it any easier on you either.” Noah confessed.

“How did you make it hard?” Zane asked with a frown.

“I took her concession as her giving up on me and Sakura and it wasn’t that at all, she was in her own priestess regalia and in regalia, she has a code she needs to abide by and I didn’t take that into account or consideration at all and I, very wrongly jumped to the conclusion that she was giving up and I will probably regret that mistake till the day I die.” Noah readily confessed which impressed Zane and Skylar that he was humble enough to admit he made a mistake and owned up to it and didn’t sugar coat it or downplay it but was actually very factual in his recounting which was very honest and forthcoming, which they respected and admired.

“Well you need to forgive yourself for that, I know I have, and beating yourself up for a mistake won’t get you anywhere.” You comforted him with another squeeze of his hand.

“No but it sure did teach me some humility and the lesson to not to jump to conclusions and to actually talk things out and figure it out instead of just emotionally reacting.” Noah gently countered.

“And it taught me to explain myself before misconceptions and misunderstandings happen because the difference in culture is still there.” You allowed.

“Huh,” Zane hummed and shrugged it off.

“But that’s still a really good thing that you would admit that you were in the wrong and obviously you apologized and tried to make amends and that you’re humble enough to admit that you were wrong and learned lessons, even as an adult.” Skylar praised.

“And what an apology it was.” You grinned cheekily which got Noah to blush and smile bashfully.

“It wasn’t just sex was it? It was an actual apology right?” Zane pressed.

“Yes, it was an actual apology, like, crying, on his knees, begging for forgiveness and admitting fault and promising to do better and then following through with actions.” You reassured Zane.

“And then yes, sex.” Noah took a chance and teased Zane which got Skylar to snort a snickering laugh as Sakura giggled too as Zane just sighed tiredly and resigned himself to this even though secretly he was relieved that it was Noah that you had chosen, or the gods rather, because now that you were in a serious relationship, his friend’s dads would hopefully now be deterred and stop drooling over you already.

“Yeah, I guess that’s inevitable and part of a healthy, committed monogamous relationship right?” Zane returned, trying to be cool about it because he could tell Noah was being harmless, in his joking and appreciated the gesture and could humor him.

“Yup, very healthy,” You nodded.

“And very committed and monogamous.” Noah nodded in turn.

“So have you ever killed anyone?” Skylar asked which got you and Noah to laugh because she just- came in from left field with that one.

“No, I have killed many animals though, for hunting purposes because hunting and trapping is legal and absolutely necessary if you’re going to live up there.” Noah answered.

“What’s the biggest thing you’ve killed?” Skylar asked.

“A bull moose that was just over 1500 pounds, getting that thing to my plane was the hardest thing because you have to dress it in the field and carry it out in pieces and carry it out quickly before the wolves and bears get wind of it. But thankfully I was hunting with my dad and my brothers and brothers in law so we all helped and we got a few moose that day, it set up the families for most of the winter actually.” Noah began before he recounted his other hunting expeditions and by the end of dinner, Sky and Zane seemed happy and satisfied with Noah’s answers to his questions and Noah in turn got his own questions about you and them, answered too.

You went back to the hotel and you tried to “ease” everyone into this by getting two hotel rooms, one for Noah and Sakura and the other for your kids and yourself, but they were right next to each other and had a door from one to the other that you kept open and once the kids got dressed to go swimming in the hotel’s pool and Noah got to see you in a bikini again, he nearly lost control and had to actively remind himself that not only was Sakura around, but your own children and the guests at the hotel meant he couldn’t just scoop you up and fuck you against the closest surface. The bikini wasn’t even all that “sexy” it was actually modest compared to most but your body in it was giving every ounce of will power he had a run for its money.

“Did you miss me?” You cooed to him as you caught him staring at you as you laid out the kid’s towels down over the sun chairs as you taunted him by wiggling your butt just enough to make it jiggle a little.

“You have no idea.” Noah returned huskily as he simply came up behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to him to pin his hardening cock to your backside and left the most salacious kiss on the side of your neck, your knees almost buckled from under you as you dropped your own towel on the ground as your whole body betrayed you and you were ready to rip your bikini off of your frame and offer yourself to him poolside.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath as it was suddenly unbearably hot in the sun, because Noah had practically set you on fire with just that little touch and kiss.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” He teased you.

“You keep pushing it and this will end in one of two ways, I get away from you so I don’t fuck you in front of the gods and everyone- right here, right now and scar the kids for life or you can figure out a way we can both sneak away for five or ten minutes so we can get our own private business taken care of.” You offered as you bent at the waist to pick up your towel and to feel his shaft tried to spear the cleft of your ass as it laid against the length of it.

Thankfully the kids soon made friends with the other kids swimming at the pool and Noah and yourself did manage to “sneak” into a family’s restroom.

That door was barely shut and locked before Noah ripped your bottoms off as you barely had a chance to step out of them before he picked you up, pinned you against a wall and entered you roughly then started up a very earnest and powerful rhythm as he kissed you like a man starved while you clung to him like a lifeline while you tried to stamp down your whimpering keens and feeling rejoined was feeling like you were whole again.

“Gods I’ve missed you.” You confessed between scorching hot kisses.

“Missed you too, my hand has been a poor substitute.” Noah confessed which got a giggle to bubble from your throat.

“Likewise.” You returned as his hips snapped forcefully into yours and the pleasure was almost overwhelming, after three weeks of just talking on the phone, seeing him again in person, the magic and the sparks and the chemistry was still there, if anything there was more of it. That three weeks had felt just as long as the two years between losing Andy and finding Noah to begin with and it was crazy how in a month, what once was a stranger was now the center of your life and the same could be said for Noah.

But at least you had all the texts, phone calls and emails. And thankfully Noah had been busy with his business while you were gone, having practically worked nonstop once he got back. And you talked to both him and Sakura at least once a day, especially at night, reading stories to Sakura to put her to sleep and then talking to Noah about his day after putting Sakura to bed. And sometimes it was just decompressing or heart and soul bearing conversation and other times it turned into some really amazing phone sex. But none of it held a candle to the real thing and way faster than you were expecting, you came in a shuddering keen, nuzzling your face into the crux of his neck and shoulder while your fingertips dimpled into the meat of his shoulders and back and it took less than ten pumps later before Noah finally let loose himself and pumped you full of his seed, a growling groaning moan as he simply pinned you against the wall and held you tight and nuzzled his face in the juncture of your own neck and shoulder and breathed in your scent deep into his lungs, feeling anchored by it because now, that he had you in his arms, he didn’t care about anything else. Everything else seemed so far away now.

By the time you made it back out, Sakura was on Zane’s shoulders as he and some of the other kids there were playing chicken and didn’t notice that you and Noah had stepped away it seemed as you both slipped into the warm water and swam around until the sunset and you finally got to go back to the rooms where you happily put Sakura to bed, snuggling with her in her bed as you read a story from your phone to her as Sky and Zane got ready for bed in their own bed across from you and watched on fondly before they fell asleep after Sakura did before you happily crawled into bed with Noah, made love and then fell asleep in his arms, finally sleeping well for the first time in weeks and Skylar and Zane didn’t have any issues with it in the morning which was a relief for you and Noah.

Before loading the cruise ship you had Noah take you and your second set of luggage and a huge crate of gifts for kids, all of Sakura’s cousins on both sides of her family since you and your kids had insisted on also getting gifts for their soon to be cousins and loaded those up on the plane so you wouldn’t have to worry about those gifts getting dirty or damaged before they could reach their recipients and your kids got to explore Noah’s plane which they thought was really cool, Skylar actually did summersaults down the cargo hold as Zane sat in the cockpit and eagerly looked at all the controls and was asking Noah about what each one was and did which made you happy as Noah promised that after the cruise, he would let them fly the plane for a few minutes on the way home which made them really happy and excited for. Which made you so excited to see everything again, but instead of the eyes of a visitor but from the eyes of a soon to be local.

Thankfully you got onto the cruise ship early because you were in the concierge royal suite and not surprisingly, Zane and Skylar seemed to make new friends right at check in, some of them had even been at the hotel the night before and even Sakura made new friends too which gave you some relief that she wasn’t being left out or ignored. Skylar and Zane could make fast friends wherever they went when they wanted to and for a week long cruise, they could do so freely to make the trip more enjoyable and Skylar and Zane had gifted Sakura a little notebook to write down all the names of all her friends so that once they got on board they could send each other gifts and “pixie dust” to other guests which Zane and Skylar insisted that all the kids staying in all of the handicap rooms on board get pixie dust in particular which damn near made Noah cry because of how thoughtful and inclusive they were to include them as Sakura also agreed to do the same which made you particularly proud. You had also spent the last three weeks making sure that you would have all the extra touches and flourishes that would make the cruise memorable and special for everyone.

Once you were invited to board, you got your pictures taken and then it was announced to the welcoming crew that the Kintucks and the Kingsleys were arrived which Sakura thought was really fun and once onboard the concierge lounge on the ship, you got each of them the program for the cruise and your highlighters out and brought out the list of things you had already put into your agenda, like princess makeovers and royal tea service for the nights you would be going to Rapunzel’s Royal Table for dinner where it was basically Disney’s version of “formal nights” as all five you got to have your choice about activities for the cruises.

Noah, unsurprisingly, was happy to just be along for the ride. Sky and Zane were really looking forward to all the kids clubs and since this was Sakura’s first cruise, much less a Disney one, she was just eager to experience everything she could as Skylar and Zane were equally eager to share the experiences with her while you were eager to have some good proper alone time with Noah because your suite had two huge whirlpool tubs, one for the master and one for the kid’s room and while you brought plenty of bath bombs for the kids, you also brought some for yourself too along with some amazing lingerie just for Noah’s enjoyment, as all of you tried to get used to the rocking of the boat.

“So...what’s that trick to getting your sea legs?” Zane asked Noah as you could tell from his expression that he was getting a little queasy as he sipped on his ginger ale.

“Ok so back when I was on a fishing boat, what we would do is we would fill the hold up with sea water, get our gear on, as if we would go overboard and we would take turns throwing each other into the holding tank, like throwing each other as high in the air as we could, with more flips and twists, the better and when the body gets thrown around like that, it’s forced to re-calibrate itself and even in a really bad storm there is always a rhythm to the waves that your body gets used to, we would barely be out of port and we would start doing this, usually on the third throw, maybe the fifth throw if you’re really bad off, you’re good to go, now the biggest trick is when you get back on land, your body will still want to follow the rhythm of the sea and you can get “land sickness”, which is getting sea sick sitting perfectly still, but again, it’s the same trick to get out of it.” Noah explained.

“So you yeet us basically.” Skylar grinned excitedly.

“Yeah, into the pool.” Noah nodded.

“Yes!” Skylar cheered which got Noah to laugh as he looked around casually and noticed something...odd.

“Hey, not to be a worry wart but we might have a problem, 8’oclock.” Noah murmured to your family as he looked around casually again which got everyone’s ears to pick up.

“What?” You asked, as you instantly looked around yourself before you noticed the family in the direction Noah alluded to before your own stomach dropped.

“They’re looking at Zane pretty hard.” Noah realized.

“Ah, fans, this happens quite a bit, hopefully they’ll be cool and not swarm me.” Zane muttered in resignation.

“Cause of your YouTube channel?” Noah asked.

“Most likely, they don’t look like the ballet following type.” Zane answered.

“If they come over and bother you- do you want me to get rid of them?” Noah offered casually.

“Uh, well, there’s no reason to be rude, but yeah if they get bothersome and hound me, please do.” Zane answered, happy and relieved that Noah would even offer before the family couldn’t help it and came over.

“Hey, are you Zane Kingsley, with King’s Snakes?” Another boy asked Zane as the family from across the lounge had been staring and gawking at Zane the moment your family had been waiting to board the ship and Noah noticed Zane plastered on that same, forced polite smile you did that first day when that whole tavern tried to buy you drinks as Noah looked from Zane to you to see you did the same thing as Skylar didn’t bother hiding her annoyance at the intrusion while Sakura looked on curiously as she ate her snack.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Zane reluctantly confirmed before the whole family seemed to gush and fawn and geek out that they met a “celebrity” on the cruise before they all got pictures with Zane as Zane humored them and gave them autographs while he tried to keep it about the snakes, asking if they had any and was happy that they were looking to buy one soon.

“Oh my goodness, look at us being so rude, are you vacationing with your family?” The mom asked.

“Yup, that’s my mom Zara, my sister Sky, my soon to be stepsister Sakura, and soon to be step dad Noatak.” Zane introduced which brought a more genuine smile to your face.

“Oh wow, you guys are ice orcs aren’t you?” The dad asked.

“Yup, we’re from the Sungilak tribe too.” Sakura volunteered.

“Oh that’s so awesome, do you mind if we get pictures of you guys too? We’ve never met ice orcs before, you have such beautiful coloring.” The mom tried to flatter.

“Sure.” Sakura agreed before she smiled really brightly for them as you and Noah shared a meaningful look before the family seemed satisfied they left you alone.

“Gods, please let that be the only time that happens.” You muttered to Noah worriedly as you squeezed his hand as you walked the halls to your suite to get changed into your bathing suits since the luggage that wasn’t your carryons had already been delivered.

You all got to your room and just as the other guests were boarding, Noah took the lifeguard aside and explained what he was about to do to you and your family and got special permission to do so since he would be throwing you guys much higher and farther than would normally be allowed but they trusted Noah for his word and his experience.

Skylar had never screamed more gleefully in her life, even on roller coasters, she didn’t squeal so loudly and Sakura did about the same and Zane even let out a shout or five as you marveled at Noah’s strength in not only picking you up but throwing you just as high and just as far as the kids but it worked like the charm it was. Then Noah jumped and did flips in the air to calibrate himself to it and once done, all of you happily went back to the room to fully settle in and get ready for the sailing away party as Sakura got to be on your shoulders while Skylar requested to enjoy it on Noah’s shoulders and was happy to be the tallest in the crowd that was gathered.

The first two days of the cruise were perfect, everyone got to have all their fun events that they wanted to go to and no one had issues with seasickness at all and you and Noah got to fully reconnect and Noah loved the lingerie and loved getting it off of you in record time too while the kids were in their kid’s clubs and do a lot of crafts in the oceaneers clubs.

The third day however, the storms hit and thankfully you were in the middle of the ship so you didn’t have to have deal with the bow going up and down with the waves, but the winds and rains hitting the glass of the veranda was the scariest thing you had encountered on the sea as all three of the kids huddled close to you in your bed as Sakura was squarely on your chest, Zane was under your right arm and Skylar was under your left and Noah was on the other side of Skylar as Noah simply smiled fondly to see you comforting all your children through the storm and was relieved that none of you were faring badly because of the seasickness as you all huddled together under the blankets during the worst of the storm.

Then after that, the storms passed and things went back to normal however, for the rest of the cruise, your family soon garnered more and more attention every time you left your cabin as Zane got an exorbitant amount of attention and “pixie dust” from just about all the kids on board because the news of “a celebrity” had traveled fast and even Noah and especially Sakura was approached a lot too, to the point that Noah actually did have to intervene and remind the other guests that you were all on a family vacation and that if they wanted pictures with ice orcs, to get them on shore with the others who were actually dressed to cater to tourists but that he and his daughter were not part of the attractions themselves and that Zane was also on a private family vacation and appreciated his privacy which Zane had never been more grateful and thankful for Noah to do as Skylar was more adoring of him in those moments than she had been yet because usually you fiercely protected Zane from “fanatical fans” but with Noah, he was the best deterrent yet and she had immediately claimed him as her step dad and had instantly started calling him "Dad" which Noah got used to pretty quick as Zane had to get a second piece of luggage to pack all of the “pixie dust” from the cruise.

Then when you got off the boat with your luggage, Noah flew you back to your family’s new home away from home, to meet his family which your kids thought was the coolest thing to be flown in and all took turns in the cockpit with the head gear and help steer the plane and then the kids happily loaded themselves into the back of the pickup truck with their luggage and thought the Frozen Tundra was really, really pretty, with the mountains and the greens and the swaths of wild flower blooms in the other fields and you had them also pack gifts for their soon to be cousins as well, making sure that all the kids were accounted for and prayed that the kids would like the gifts as you went to Noah’s house first to unload all your luggage as Zane happily poached stickers and other items from all the “pixie dust” that he got form all his “fans” on the cruise and added them to the gift bags for a special Disney touch to them.

You were never more relived to see Neena's family with the Noah’s family again as they still gave you the same warm welcome that they had done last time and Sakura was so proud to introduce her new siblings to all her cousins who were thrilled to get presents as you and Noah watched on, as Skylar of course, wanted to wrestle with her new boy cousins while Zane was content to simply sit and talk with his new girl cousins as they all happily played with their new things of slime happily around the card table in the game room.

“Ok, you guys can wrestle if you want but here are the rules, no broken anything, no broken noses, wrists, elbows, knees, ankles and obviously necks, we don’t want to take anyone to the ER today, that kind of thing. No pulling hair or braids or anything like that, and anything that a bathing suit would cover is off limits and of course, honor the tap out code and only displays of good sportsmanlike conduct is allowed. And boys, if you’re not cool with a girl like Skylar getting the best of you and beating you, don’t wrestle with her in the first place. She’s had a lot of formal training. Skylar, only match what you’re about to be given, no ganging up on anyone, lets play fair, one on one or two on two or however it has to go to be even. No breaking furniture or windows or anything like that, let’s be respectful of each other and the space. No trash talking or anything like that.” You specified, making sure you made eye contact with all of them before they all eagerly nodded their agreement.

“Ok, have at it then.” You agreed before you backed away before it descended into controlled chaos.

“Does that happen a lot?” Isla asked as she sat next to you on the couch with Summer as you all watched as Skylar happily started pinning each one down to the ground as all the boys were beyond happy and excited that a girl was willing to play this rough and could go toe to toe with them and they didn’t have to worry about holding back to keep from hurting her cause she was one tough cookie.

“Yeah, now don’t misunderstand, the two of them could just as easily switch places. And at home, Zane is Skylar’s workout and sparring partner so he knows everything that she does martial arts wise and in school he was the one to restrain her when she would get in fights in school so he knows those holds better than she does. But he prefers to make interpersonal connections through talking. Skylar, is obviously more physical and they’ll both bond to everyone else, just through different means. And Skylar, is actually a really gifted, graceful dancer and Zane can do all kinds of lifts with her and it helps her keep her own balance in the martial arts, but she prefers the skin on skin contact and getting to know each one by playing like this.” You explained before you watched Skylar actually kick one particular boy cousin off of her with so much power he practically went flying backwards about 10 feet, a few feet off the ground as Zane saw him coming and pulled the other girl cousins out of the way so they didn’t get pulled into it and hurt as the boy got up and laughed and dove back in as the other fathers watched their sons play fight with amusement as the other women were puting the finishing touches on dinner as Noah had never beamed with so much pride at seeing Skylar seem to take on two at a time with ease and judging by all the bright smiles on all the faces of the kids, they were all definitely having fun.

“So how was the cruise?” Noah’s brother Nago asked from the pool table.

“Uh, it was a mixed bag honestly. The first couple of days were awesome. Then word got out that “a celebrity” was on the cruise and then it wasn’t so great. Zane has a YouTube channel about breeding ball pythons and he’s only ten but he’s already making money as a breeder and he’s actually really, really smart when it comes to their care and genetics and medical care. And so, because of that exposure, he gets recognized a lot and he got recognized on the ship and he signed more autographs than Mickey Mouse did. It was insane. And it got to the point that he had me step in and remind these people that he wasn’t at an expo, he wasn’t on this cruise for any kind of publicity but he was just on a private family vacation and it’s a good thing I have a mean glare to keep them at bay but it was the same people who objectified Sakura and I the whole time, thinking because we were ice orcs that we were part of the cruise and the experience too, that wasn’t cool and Zara showed her claws a few times trying to keep Sakura safe and not hassled either and the staff of course was really cool and understanding and helpful. And then of course we had those storms roll in and it got pretty dicey a few times and if I had not done the water tank trick on all of them and myself, all of us would have been sicker than a dog that whole time. But even with all of that going on, Zara never faltered once. She was amazing and kept everyone safe and together and having a good time and to Sakura, she just thought it was the best family vacation she had ever been on and thankfully didn’t think the attention she got was a bad thing as Skylar warmed right up to me and loved it that I was bigger and taller than anyone else on board and loved to sit on my shoulders to watch all the shows that weren’t canceled due to weather. Zane is of course reserving judgement which I can’t argue with or find fault in. So, like I said, mixed bag.” Noah surmised.

“Well of course it wasn’t going to be perfect. Nothing ever is.” Ukluk noted.

“No, I wasn’t expecting it to be but I just wasn’t exactly expecting what we got either.” Noah muttered as he continued to watch Skylar closely to make sure she wasn’t getting hurt before she put one of Sakura’s cousins, Kako into a choke hold.

“Hey! Kako! Tap out, she’s gonna make you pass out buddy.” Noah suggested as Suka laughed at how his son was being put into a choke hold as Kako never looked happier to be in such a state.

“I’m good!” Kako tried to say as he waived off his uncle in between trying to squirm out of the hold only a minute later he went limp into a pile on the floor before Skylar let him go and rolled him over with the help of his siblings and other cousins as they all cheered that she had knocked him out before they clamored for her to do the same thing to them.

“Really?” Skylar asked.

“Yeah!” They insisted before Skylar looked at you and then to Noah and the other dads for permission.

“Go for it!” Nago, Yakone, Tonrar, Dave, Max and John all encouraged her.

“If that’s what they want, go for it Sweetie.” Ukluk laughed and gave her the nod before she beamed and outright tackled the rest of them until she had all the boys passed out on the floor around her and stood and caught her breath and appraised her handiwork while Noah and his brothers and brothers in law and his father and father in law all give her high fives and teased that she needed to come over to their house for sleep overs to do that to their sons that night for bed.

“If this was two hundred years ago, she would be getting marriage proposals left and right for that.” Isla practically cackled to you which made the rest of you laugh with her.

“Yeah, most of the boys at school already view her as this little warrior goddess as it is. And she’s only 8, just turned 8 too, I can’t imagine what she’ll be like at 18, but my rule is, no dating while in elementary, middle or high school. If you want to date in college that’s your choice but nothing before that.” You insisted.

“Ooh, that’s gonna be hard, especially up here, most are matched before high school graduation.” Isla grimaced.

“Well then she’ll be one of the few who aren’t as will Zane, and Sakura. Because they’re children right now and they should focus on being kids, having fun, enjoying hobbies, learning life skills and school. Not anything romantic, they’re still growing and developing and maturing for their age, romance should be the last thing pushed onto them.” You insisted.

“Agreed.” Noah practically boomed from across the room which made you smile even brighter as Skylar then joined Zane’s group and met all the girl cousins and sat next to Sakura and put her arm around her.

“Can you show me how to do that?” Sakura asked Skylar.

“And me?” The other girls chimed in.

“Yeah sure, wait for them to wake up first.” Skylar said as she nodded over to the boys who were still passed out before their mothers came down to get everyone.

“What happened to the boys?” Samantha asked worriedly, seeing her sons passed out on the floor.

“Oh Sammie, you should have been here! So the boys found out that Skylar can wrestle, asked her to put them in choke holds which she did! It was the single coolest thing I’ve ever seen.” Nago laughed giddily as he went over to his boys and picked up their arms and let the arms drop.

“The boys...asked for this?” Samantha repeated.

“Yeah, and of course I was cool with it and gave her permission too.” Nago insisted.

“We all did.” All the guys insisted.

“...ok. Well dinner is ready, and they need to wake up for dinner.” Samantha insisted before all the guys murmured their agreement and woke up their sons who almost jolted awake.

“Hey bud, how do you feel?” Suka asked Kako.

“I feel fine, that was really fun!” Kako beamed happily.

“Good, I’m glad you had fun, time for dinner.” Suka insisted as he helped his son to his feet before all the other boys as they all happily got up and went upstairs and happily told their mothers all about how awesome Skylar was and how she plays just as rough as they do which made their mothers happy to hear that they were getting along and you and Noah were finally relieved that this time, things were going much smoother.

#Jewel Of The North #Jewel Of The North Chapter 12 #ice orcs #jewel orcs

11 notes · View notes

ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years ago

Text

Between Bars (Spencer Reid x OC)

Summary: Spencer is wrongfully arrested for murder and placed in Millburn Correctional Facility awaiting trial. While he attempts to survive until his friends can prove his innocence, his cellmate Oscar has an unexpected effect on Spencer during their time inside together.

AN: Thank you to @april-14-blog, @zhuzhubii, and @imagining-in-the-margins for your unwavering attention and support while writing this.

I’m writing another post-prison Spencer fic but idk when it’s coming out. I’m still caring for my dad and prepping for my nan’s funeral.

To the anon who asked for an Emily Prentiss x Trans!Male reader smut, it’s in the works I promise!!

Word count: 11k words

Content warning: Usual criminal minds violence, character death, spoilers for season 12, threats of violence, stabbing, PTSD, mentions of battery, mentions of panic attacks. Let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Masterlist // AO3 Link

“My last roommate got shanked.”

Spencer struggled for a second to keep his composure. The cell door slid shut with a loud buzzer and a clank of hollow metal.

His cellmate, in that identical grey jumpsuit, was tucked up on the bottom bunk with a book in one hand and a green crayon in the other. He was underlining something. Once he was done, his eye lifted off the page. They just as devoid of emotion as his opener was. That scared Spencer more, that this man had clearly spent a long time in here being dehumanised to the point where he held about the emotional range of a mannequin.

But at least he wasn’t violent. Yet.

Spencer approached the foot of his bed. His hands, one of them still sore from the cut on the palm, placed his belongings there. A tremble ran through them when his cellmate moved out of his line of sight; the sudden thought of being stabbed through the underside of his bunk kept him standing for now.

“I’m not gonna shank you.”

Spencer’s shoulders squared, “Ok.”

“Name’s Oscar.”

“Spencer Reid.”

“Welcome to hell, Spencer Reid.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His chore was laundry. It was somewhere without sharp objects, which meant inmates brought their own. Spencer was doing his best to walk the balance between standing his ground and not making himself a target. But apparently there was no such line to follow and no help from his cellmate, sifting through his own cart of laundry on the other side of the room.

That was until the inmates began taunting Spencer over his belongings.

“Excuse me.”

The crowd immediately parted to make way for Oscar, whose unflinching gaze pushed them further back.

“Thank you,” he said in the same empty tone. His very deliberate stare landed on Spencer as he passed and collected a pile of towels from the table at the room’s centre. The group around them dispersed and remained so even as Oscar returned to his station.

Oscar’s hands weren’t shaking before then. Now, certainly, as he stuffed bedsheets into the giant machine, a tremble ran through his arms and stuck in his wrists.

Spencer didn’t comment, not even that evening as he climbed onto his bunk, his back pressed hard against the wall. His knees pulled close acted as a desk for his journal. His pen scribbled away long after lights out, putting down his thoughts, his innocence, trapping his worries onto the paper. It was too long until his next evaluation. His notebook was his only confidant now.

A creak beneath him stilled his hand, and he felt himself freeze as the shadow of Oscar rose up from his bunk. One of his hands was behind his back. Spencer’s feet dug into the mattress and forced him hard against the concrete. His eyes flinched shut as Oscar brought his hand out. But they opened as soon as they were closed and they were met with surprise.

In Oscar’s palm sat a red crayon.

“You’ll wanna swap to this,” He said with such a softness that Spencer spent the next ten seconds processing it. His incessant blinking did nothing to clear up what was happening.

Eventually he said an equally quiet voice, “Why?”

Oscar’s shoulders shrugged an inch, the tension he held in them inflexible, “Worst you can get from this is a bruise.”

Slowly, Spencer accepted the crayon with his left hand and rolled the pencil around in the right. “What should I do with this?”

“Hide it.” And Oscar disappeared from view.

Spencer ran his finger over the tip of the crayon before he dragged it across the paper. It would suffice for now. Maybe he could ask one of his friends to send some his way in their next letter. If they weren’t too busy trying to solve his case.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

JJ’s presence was the most welcomed part of Spencer’s life here. But he almost hated it.

Opposite him, always several inches between them as well as a divider, JJ holding up one of Henry’s drawings but unable to hand it over to him, it drove him insane. The constant reminders on the walls – and often barked by guards – not to touch coated their conversation. JJ didn’t ask about the bruises from his most recent beating. She answered Spencer’s queries, updating him on his case.

Spencer tried very hard not to sound so eager about getting out. His hopes were already dashed to pieces; the fragments were just holding on. He needed that hope to survive but if it grew too strong, it would destroy him.

For half a second, his attention was drawn out of the goodbye to see Oscar nearby. He was standing before another visitor’s table and a young woman who had the same nose as him on the other side.

He missed JJ’s hugs. He longed for one long after she had disappeared from view, shuffling along with the rest of them towards the refectory.

A commotion erupted up ahead. Spencer watched with masked reverence and the rest of the line as Oscar remained unflinching in the volume of the guard’s shouting. Even when he got right up in Oscar’s face, Oscar was stoic as spittle sprayed across his face. Moment after the guard walked away, Oscar wiped his face clean, a terrifyingly neutral expression held together.

Once lunch was done, Spencer re-joined with his new friend Luis in the laundry room, who was still not over Spencer’s injuries. There was something else that Spencer wanted to talk about.

“Do you know much about…” Spencer dropped his voice to barely a whisper, “Oscar?”

Luis looked at Oscar with the subtlety of an elephant seal then back to Spencer to deliver his answer, “He’s gone after people in the prison, but nothing ever gets tied to him.”

And Luis proved his point when Oscar pressed his hands against the stab wound in Luis’ neck, a futile attempt to save his life after Frazier and Duerson’s failed recruiting of Spencer. Oscar fled the scene without consequence, leaving Spencer in the pool of blood, and he never once tripped on his alibi or took off his armour. Not even when Spencer spoke at him about it before lights out.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

But Spencer found a chink in the armour.

Oscar’s sleeping problems were apparent throughout the night. If his offering of a crayon earlier hadn’t been enough evidence, the yawning and tossing about the bottom bunk. Spencer knew why Oscar was awake too. He wasn’t the type to stay awake to ensure his continued survival. Insomnia was a symptom that Spencer was starting to show too. He had been struggling to rest while he gathered the aforementioned evidence. For some reason, it brought him a slither of comfort, because it made Oscar more human.

Another was the letters he had in his pillow case – the most obvious place to hide something, therefore the least obvious? Reverse psychology aside, some nights featured the rustling of paper

Work in the laundry room continued as if there wasn’t a man murdered in it just days before. Oscar was reinforcing the contrast between yesterday and now with a faint hum. He was clearly a little more comfortable since it was just him and Spencer in the room.

Spencer’s mind pulled up Howl’s Moving Castle which he watched with Penelope. Oh, Penelope. With her bright colours and optimism. It was not a film he pictured Oscar to be a fan of. But he hardly knew him, and he wanted to.

“What song is that?”

Oscar shrugged. A huff forced itself out of his nose. “Don’t remember.”

“It sounds nice.”

He huffed again, clearly closing the conversation. Spencer counted in items he tossed into the machine, flinching still at the marks on the bedsheets. His eye avoided them but landed on the dark patch of concrete where Luis had bled out.

“Oscar, why did you defend me last week?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t know.” The irritable edge in his voice prevailed the more he spoke, “But you owe me so consider this: don’t be a mule for them.”

It was an almost anger that Spencer felt at this request. Surely Oscar would understand, of all people, after being in here that:

“They’ll kill me if I don’t.”

Oscar sighed and turned his back to Spencer, no longer humming. Spencer felt a twang in his gut pluck away at his rage. But he also felt satisfaction in the fact that he had gotten Oscar to crack again. Not in a malevolent way, he felt like he was getting Oscar to open up more and more.

“I’m doing what I need to survive,” Spencer added. For his sake, maybe, but he knew it was a little more reassurance for Oscar.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“I am innocent.”

“You’re gonna get killed if you keep saying that so loud.”

Spencer stopped speaking, but he kept moving about the floor space of the cell. The worst part was the walk up to the bars. But, with his notebook confiscated, he had no other outlet and he made sure that Oscar knew this as well.

“It keeps me grounded, reminds me of who I am.”

Oscar didn’t say anything about Spencer’s incessant pacing, simply turning a page in his new book, “That must be nice.”

With a deep breath of stale prison air, Spencer’s speed grew erratic until he very nearly kicked at the bars in frustration. He stopped himself just as the instruction reached the surgery scars on his knee. It stung as he jumped up into his bunk and squeezed his knees to his chest, his arms shaking with the pressure he put on them.

“How many years do you have to go?” He said quietly.

“Half a year until an appeal, six years if I serve the rest of my sentence. You?”

“My trial has been postponed. I was offered a plea deal. But-” Spencer stopped to swallow, a pitiful attempt against the absolute Sahara that was his mouth “- But I didn’t do it.”

His hand pushed the heel of his palm into his eye. The other screwed itself shut as his mind zeroed in on his actions. When Spencer’s hand lifted away, Oscar was standing up in front of him. His white shirt was on show, the top half of his jumpsuit rolled down with the arms tied around his waist. He was stretching his arms up, and his head was tilted a few inches to the left as he watched Spencer with a blank face.

No, not blank.

Open.

Then his stoicism clouded over and Oscar dropped his arms. “Nice rehearsal for the jury.”

Spencer’s irritation became inflamed, “That kind of attitude might get you a badge of honour here-”

“This kind of attitude,” Oscar interrupted, and immediately Spencer regretted his words, “Has helped me survive here. I suggest you stop running your mouth if you wanna do the same.”

The burst of anger fizzled out fast like a firework, and Spencer watched Oscar disappear out of sight with a dull thud on his mattress. But before he could, Spencer had noticed that Oscar’s hands were shaking again, just like he hadn’t seen since the fight in the laundry room – the first one.

Spencer’s hands gripping his shins, he worried that he had lost another… friend? Ally? He didn’t really know what to use as a description for their relationship but Spencer knew what he wanted. Least of all, he wanted Oscar to be upset with him.

“Oscar?”

Nothing. Spencer slipped off the bed and pressed his back against the wall, sinking down until he was on the ground. His eyes were on Oscar, who was staring without seeing Spencer opposite him. Nevertheless, Spencer stayed in his sight and asked a tentative question.

“What’s the first thing you want to do when you get out?”

Oscar blinked and his gaze shifted a millimetre to Spencer and his peace offering. Then Spencer saw it. A quiver of Oscar’s bottom lip, then it shifted and Spencer noticed that Oscar was biting the inside to stop his reaction taking over any more of himself.

When his mouth opened, it released a sigh before he spoke. “Hug my mom.”

Spencer nodded, the stuffiness of his throat returning as he fought to keep back tears, “Me too.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was an attempt to get Frazier and Duerson off Spencer’s back. Maybe to stop him from taking the drugs himself. The temptation was certainly lingering stronger, with the promise of a temporary respite.

But now the prison was locked down. Shaw, along with four other inmates, were isolated in the infirmary. These were far from innocent men but God that didn’t mean what he had done was right.

He’d done it to survive, but it was still all his fault.

“What’s up with you?”

The gate to their cell sliding shut behind Oscar. He stared at Spencer sat in the bottom bunk, his head in his hands. Footsteps echoed down the corridor before another buzzer and another gate opened then shut again. They were far from alone, the concrete providing an illusion that there wasn’t an endless tunnel with two men per cage.

“Spencer.”

He stood up, dropping the grip from his hair. His ears tuned into the noise from other prisoners. What he wouldn’t give for some silence right now.

“The poisonings were my fault.”

All air sucked from Spencer’s lungs as Oscar was suddenly upon him. He was smacked against the wall, Oscar’s hand over his mouth, his forearm pinning him into place. Spencer let out a cross between a gulp and a sob, caught into his throat as Oscar harshly shushed him. Spencer’s eyes looked around Oscar terrified, he struggled against him.

Oscar’s voice rasped with a spitting disgust, “You’re really fucking stupid!”

And he slammed his weight against Spencer again, his breathing heavy, his pupils dilated, “Don’t you fucking dare repeat that to anyone.”

Spencer’s head knocked against the resolute wall when Oscar shoved him once more, stepping back and creating distance between them. With the ache at the back of his skull, Spencer stared dazedly at his cellmate.

Oscar’s voice matched his haggard appearance when he said, “You’re a dead man, Spencer.”

The intimacy of his name striking right at his heart, Spencer worried that he would join Oscar in tears. But there was no time; a guard rattled his baton against the bars.

“What’s going on in there?” He bellowed into the cell.

Oscar clenched his jaw, “Nothing.”

Then he reclaimed his bunk and faced the wall.

“Into bed, inmate!”

Sparing a glance to the vulnerable position Oscar was laying in, unable to receive the look of gratitude, Spencer got into his bunk. The silence he wished for enveloped him and he longed for it to vanish.

He pressed his palm against his lips. It wasn’t the same as when Oscar did it.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His second meeting with Dr. Tara Lewis revealed that Spencer had manufactured his own memory and that he had been coerced. But the BAU needed proof of his innocence, and Spencer resumed his waiting game in the yard.

Oscar was taking a new route around the edge of the wire fencing as opposed to spending his free time in the gym. His shoes scuffed in the dirt, no doubt rubbing a blister into his heel (based on his gait), and his step weaved around the groups to avoid interacting with anyone. Wordlessly, Spencer joined him. Oscar looked at him but didn’t speak.

Spencer’s session with Tara had brought forward a question he had considered asking before. Tara had spoken about his mother, how life was before prison. Spencer missed being known, knowing someone. The rawness of that need hung off his frame with his jumpsuit. Oscar was probably still pissed off with him. But God, Spencer needed to cease this withdrawal from human contact more than anything.

“What did you do, Oscar?” He asked under his breath, “To get into prison?”

“I knew a guy; he was the worst kind of person to get caught up with. He did some things to me. So I beat him up, and I cut his pecker off.”

It all sounded so very rehearsed, and Spencer wondered if Oscar had been planning what to say since they first met. The two men continued to walk in step until eventually Oscar broke the silence.

“Yours isn’t on my to-do list.” The left corner of his mouth twitched as he spoke

Spencer lifted his stare from Oscar’s mouth, hoping the heat around them would mask his blush, “Did he die?”

“No,” Oscar ironed his lips back into a straight line, “Unfortunately.”

“You don’t regret it.”

“No.”

“Thank you for not telling the guard what I did.”

“What did I say about repeating it?”

Spencer pressed his chin into his chest, forcing his mouth shut. It naturally deflected the glares that were aimed in his direction from other prisoners as he and Oscar sat down at an empty table.

“It seems I only give you grief.”

But Spencer’s pity was cut short by that touch of a smile on Oscar’s face returning, “Your company somewhat makes up for it.”

The distractions ended. Spencer was once again aware that there was very little he could do in this place. He restrained his yearning to hold Oscar’s hand across the table, to feel his tender palm again, until he was back in his bunk with an entire night to think about what it might be like in a situation where Oscar wasn’t threatening him into silence.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was going to be another sleepless night.

Spencer reached his arm out of his foetal position and over the edge of his bunk. Oscar was likely still awake; Spencer was hoping that Oscar would ask him about what was up, like he usually did. Like he already had after Spencer’s mother had visited with her new care assistant.

As he waited, Spencer sniffed back his tears. He didn’t want anyone to see him cry, even if tears were supposed to be good for the skin – God knows his skin needed it after all that Dial soap. The red eyes were already hard enough to hide without the addition of damp cheeks. Grief weighed down his eyelids, but fear kept opening them – just in case.

Then five calloused fingertips touched the back of his hand. Spencer gripped the air, his wrist bringing his hand an inch in. But as the fingertips spread across his skin, he allowed them to continue. Oscar’s mattress groaned below him and his fingers linked with Spencer’s. The thumb wrapped around to press into Spencer’s palm.

Spencer almost whined when Oscar snatched his hand away, but a split second later his stomach dropped at the sound of a clatter down the hall.

Minutes passed like hours before the bottom bunk let out a familiar creak of Oscar rising from it. He rested his forearms against Spencer’s mattress, right beside Spencer’s outstretched arm. Goosebumps rose and the hairs stood on end, coaxing Oscar closer.

With a quick glance at the bars, Oscar whispered, “Your friends will get you out. They’ll help your mom.”

Spencer sniffed, “What happened to being a dead man?”

“I don’t think you – or your friends - are going to let that happen.”

“What about you?”

“I guess I could fall under ‘ally’ for once.”

“What if I wanted you to be something else?” Spencer’s arm shifted and his hand brushed their knuckles against Oscar’s stubbly cheek.

Oscar hinted at tilting his head against him, and Spencer couldn’t help but press a little firmer as Oscar said, “You should sleep.”

“I can’t.”

Oscar’s finger stretching out to brush the crook of Spencer’s elbow, “Me neither.”

Nevertheless, Oscar let Spencer go and got back down into his bunk just moments later.

Both men pretended to sleep until the fantasy became real. The whole time, Spencer was thinking about how hearing faith in his team from someone who had never met them – or even displayed an ounce of hope within his entire relationship with him – meant so much.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Spencer had a new wall to force his back against. His left leg was not in a state to keep him taut against it, the throbbing ache a poor disturbance from his thoughts. Time, time, all he had was time to think and do nothing else.

About how his occupation in the government was leaked to what felt like the entire prison population.

How the note with the promise of invading solitary confinement lay screwed up by the door.

How Shaw had threatened him before bawling like a baby when the guards tackled him for stabbing Spencer.

How Oscar, with his jaw slack and eyes glassy, was outlined in Spencer’s blurring vision.

Oh, Oscar. Shoved back by inmates in the scuffle before he disappeared from view. He was only there because Shaw had made the first move. Spencer had seen Oscar reach into his pocket as he crept behind Shaw. No regard for his own safety. That was when Spencer grabbed Shaw’s hand and manipulated it into plunging his shiv into his leg and arm.

The night before, Oscar had been quiet, and Spencer figured that he had learnt that Spencer was an FBI agent. No chat before bed, Oscar just curled up under his blanket and read until lights out.

Spencer was patient. He waited long into the night before bringing out his toothbrush. There was no time for resting now; he scrapped the end of the brush against the edge of the bunk frame. Flakes of plastic snowed down onto the concrete floor, but he didn’t get out to sweep them beneath the beds just yet. That was a job for the morning – if it came.

Suddenly Oscar popped into his field of view.

“It’s better if you do it like this,” He said, taking Spencer’s hand in his and demonstrating the direction with which to carve his shiv, “And make sure you – never mind.”

“What?”

“Forget it. You’re a fed. They probably trained you with this shit.”

He took himself away and Spencer swallowed hard, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I’m not. Means you’re learning to protect yourself. I’m more grateful for that.”

Spencer’s hand still tingled from the way Oscar held it. The simplest of touches grounded him, and it was almost as if Oscar knew that. When they were called to lunch by the alarm, filing out of the laundry room, Oscar had gone out of his way to walk by Spencer and brush their hands together. Not a single break in his stride, the touch was brief but it breathed a sigh of courage into Spencer’s lungs and he went into the refectory calmer.

He bit the inside of his cheek, willing away the stinging of tears with his head leaning back against the wall.

His palms flattened against his legs as he heard the key turn in the door. His eyes watched it creak open, revealing a guard

“Get up.”

Wincing, Spencer moved off the pathetic excuse for a bed, “Where am I going?”

No answer.

Spencer shuffled through the hallway with dread weighing each step down. The last fragment of hope was waning, but he clung to it as he was shoved into an empty room. Even as the guard closed the door behind him and his ever-vigilant eye was stuck on the glass of the window, Spencer held that hope close as he waited for someone to come in. While not necessarily a believer, he called to anyone - who might hear a sinner’s prayer - that he could touch Oscar once more before he was killed.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It had been a long time since Spencer had sat on this side of the table. On the job, visiting a suspect or informant in a case, but now his entire perspective had shifted.

He wondered if any of the guards recognised him now that he had a suit, a visitor’s badge, and a few extra pounds around his middle.

An instinct, he flinched at the buzzer. The memory had tormented him for weeks and hearing it fresh and raw against his eardrums was worse. Steps sloped into the room in a dull out-of-sync march. The prisoners found their allotted tables one by one, some with enthusiasm and others without.

Oscar dragged the chair across the floor before taking his place opposite Spencer.

“Hello.”

Spencer was completely torn between smiling at his presence – his voice – and keeping a composure so as not to draw attention from other prisoners. “Hello.”

Oscar wrapped his arms in each other, elbows pointed on the table, “Did you get to hug your mom?”

It was hard to forget the grip on Diana’s frail body, the relief seeping through Spencer’s body at her safe recovery.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good. I’m glad she’s ok.”

“She’s in a facility now, being taken care of full time. Did you get my letters?”

“I did, thank you. And did you get mine?”

“Yes. How is your new cellmate?”

“Some dipshit in for possession. Nothing to worry about.”

Oscar’s fingers tapped on the table, and Spencer could see them trembling still. He nodded; his mouth pressed into a line. He couldn’t think of what else to say despite his many rehearsals beforehand. It felt wrong to talk about being out of prison, like dangling a bit of bacon in front of a dog before popping it into one’s mouth.

So he went straight for the jugular, “I’m getting you out, Oscar.”

Oscar frowned, looking almost offended. “Don’t say that.”

But Spencer continued, “I’ve spoken with your lawyer, Zoe; she’s got all this stuff ready for your appeal.”

“Spencer.”

“Your family completely support what we’re doing. I’ve spoken to them over the phone.”

“They wanna meet with me and your lawyer, properly coordinate. We can do this!”

“Spencer, stop!”

Said person stopped relaying his grand plans for the future. Oscar had barely raised his voice but he caught the attention of the nearby guards, already reaching for their belts. Oscar’s nostrils flared as he exhaled, his eyes not even crossing the threshold that separated him from Spencer.

His voice caught in his throat, “Stop it now. Don’t give me hope.”

Spencer blinked. A second time, a third, then he frowned right back at Oscar bewildered.

“Why won’t you let me fight for you?”

He didn’t get an answer immediately, so he kept talking.

“You fought for me, Oscar. You kept me alive in here. Let me do the same, get you out. You can’t stay here!”

It started subtle. But Spencer saw Oscar shaking his head at his words. He refused Spencer any more eye contact, not even when Spencer begged Oscar to look at him so that they could talk more about the upcoming appeal.

The buzzer sounded again and Spencer began to panic as Oscar rose from his seat. No way was their time up already. An urge to reach across, grab Oscar’s hand, make him stay, shot through him. It only stopped because he didn’t want some desperate grab to be the last touch between them. He tried to call after him, but his voice stuck in his throat at the sight of a baton being used to force Oscar into the queue.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Spencer had walked the paths of the bullpen thrice now: once to get coffee, second to “get the right form”, and the last time he didn’t say why to his curious colleagues. Clearly none of those were the true reason but they left him alone. That was their problem. They never spoke to each other about what was wrong until it was too late.

The second his phone rang, he lunged for it. His slim fingers scrabbled to slide across the answer button and bring it up to his ear.

“Hello!” Instantaneously, his shoulders slumped and he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Sorry for shouting. Look, I’m waiting on an important call, can I ring you back?”

Before the caller had time to respond, Spencer slammed the phone face down and began his route again, leaving it on the desk so that he wasn’t constantly checking the screen.

“Have you ever seen him so attached to a piece of technology?” Luke grinned at JJ.

“Never.”

“This con must be something.”

The phone went off again when Spencer was getting another mug of coffee. Its ringtone was loud but not loud enough to reach the break room.

Simmons raised his voice ever so slightly, “Spencer! Phone!”

A ceramic clashed with a sideboard, and Spencer appeared, his hip clipping Luke’s desk on the way over. In his frenzy, he found the wherewithal to check the caller ID before he answered, “Tony?”

Spencer had already begun powerwalking out of the bullpen, but he stopped when he heard a cry from Eliza in the background.

His friends and co-workers watched his expression falter from focus to frustration.

“I’m sorry.” His voice failed him, clearing it, “I’m sorry, Tony, for you and your family. Can I call you back?”

This time, he waited for confirmation and he stayed on the phone for half a minute longer to reassure the Dunnagan family on the other end that he would not give up. Once the call dropped, the phone did too – against the desk. Spencer folded his arms in on himself. His fingers were bent into claws, digging into the creases of his elbows. Upon realising what they were doing, he covered his face as if to weep, but there were no tears.

“Spencer.” JJ touched his shoulder

“The appeal didn’t even have the chance to be unsuccessful,” He dragged his hands across his face into prayer, “Oscar cancelled the hearing this morning without telling us.”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat, “I don’t think I can be alone right now. Can I stay at yours and Will’s tonight?”

“Of course,” JJ’s hand smoothed out a wrinkle on his suit jacket.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Upon entering the attorney’s office, Spencer was embraced by Dakota. Eliza kissed both his cheeks, Tony shook his hand, and Zoe gestured for him to sit in the final empty chair.

Together, they discussed the plan for the appeal. It was to be fool proof. There was the added benefit of a recent sessions with a therapist; Spencer was still willing to go and talk about how Oscar had saved his life in prison. But Spencer was also fighting this disgusting urge to say that “none of that matters because an appeal panel won’t see him at all if Oscar keeps withdrawing”. He kept pushing it down to simmer in his stomach, away from his vocal chords.

He was almost glad when his phone began ringing, “Excuse me, it’s my boss.” Stepping out of the office, Spencer narrowly avoided another lawyer walking along the stripes of the carpet. “Hey Emily.”

“Hey. I know it’s one of your days off. I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

“We’re just going over Oscar’s appeal.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Wow, he really walked into that one.

“I just keep thinking about how he sabotaged himself. I mean, doesn’t he want to get out? Why doesn’t he want to get out and be with me?!” Spencer swallowed back the lump in his throat, “And I know none of the team approve of him.”

“Spencer,” Emily had her parent voice on. An expert voice for someone who didn’t even have kids yet.

But Spencer just carried on in spite of it, “He’s a convicted batterer, not exactly the best option for a boyfriend and especially for an FBI agent, but do any of you know why he did it?”

His agitation was muzzled when Zoe poked her head around the door and Spencer softened his tone to apologise, to assure he would be back inside shortly. He waited until the door closed before he spoke again.

“Emily, Oscar is the only person who knows what I’m going through right now. He’s a good man, I truly believe that, or else he wouldn’t have helped me. And I need him to get out. I can’t stand knowing he’s in there for why he did what he did. Knowing he’s not getting the help he needs.”

It was then that Spencer realised, even as they were interrupted, that Emily had been waiting patiently for him to finish. She was now letting his words sit between the phone lines, likely mulling over what to say next. Spencer really fucking hated waiting.

Thankfully his patience did not need to wear itself thin, this one time:

“I do know why he did it. I had Garcia pull up his file when you went to visit him for the first time. Spencer, I’m glad this man has you on his side. Let me know how the meeting goes.”

“Thanks, Emily.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

As Oscar placed himself down opposite Spencer, he flinched in the plastic chair. Spencer fought his own wince at the sight of so much swelling, so many bruises, so many cuts, littering his face.

But he gave the tiniest of smiles in spite of the state of his face, “How did you know, Spencer?”

“Your mom told me. She’s a lovely woman.” Spencer flexed his fingers before linking them again, “I wish I had a proper gift to give you, but I was scared the guards would just confiscate it.”

“The card was more than enough.”

A bright blue card with balloons on it was tucked into Oscar’s pillowcase. Inside were as many notes on what he needed to say for the appeal as Spencer could fit around the “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” already printed into the card.

“I forwarded them and the rest onto your lawyer. She should go through it with you.”

Oscar’s smile tainted by hesitation as it crawled off his face, “I don’t know.”

Spencer could see him withdrawing, hiding in his jumpsuit. But even then, Oscar’s expression wore his melancholy like a veil. It blocked out any semblance of neutrality from when he had first met Spencer. The state his protection was in, he wouldn’t last long at all.

“Before prison, I was really sensitive to touch, germs. But now-” Spencer stopped, his voice so quiet he nearly couldn’t hear himself as he finished, “I can’t wait to touch you again.”

Oscar shivered. His eyes screwed shut as if to protect him from what was being said. But Spencer persisted.

“What would you like to do for your birthday? If you could do anything.”

“Picnic in the park,” said Oscar after some thought, “Uh, a real big Cuban sandwich, with roast pork, Swiss cheese, lettuce, pickles, and ham. And chocolate covered strawberries.”

“What, in the sandwich as well?”

“Yes.” Oscar rolled his eyes, misty and threatening to spill, and Spencer felt a rush of panic. More emotion was only good for him. Oscar, left behind in his cell, this could be disastrous. But he couldn’t get enough of it, and he selfishly persevered.

“When you get out, would you let me hold you?” The buzzer went off, but Spencer spoke over it as he stood, “Please, Oscar, consider this appeal.”

“Ok, Spencer.”

From his place at the table, Spencer watched Oscar try to cover his emotions, but there was still a glimmer of a tear retreating as he joined the queue of prisoners heading back to their cells.

Before he stepped out the prison, Spencer slipped his sunglasses back over his eyes to hide how red they were from the guards.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Stood in the shallow shade of Eliza’s range rover, Spencer switched the bouquet of sage flowers from one hand to the other. Dakota had suggested them; she said her brother liked the colour most. Spencer wiped his free hand down his trousers before checking the time. He’d done that four times already. He hoped no one was giving him odd looks from the other side of the fence.

Utter relief was not usually how he would describe hearing that buzzer. But for the first and last time, he did feel a sense of respite knowing he would likely never be coming back here for such a taxing visit.

Then he remembered what that sound actually meant. His back straightened right up; his hand brushed through his hair and checked his breath once more.

Tony led the way out of the prison. He was clearly trying to remain casual but the glee seeping out of his body was just palpable. He had an arm around Dakota, kissing his daughter’s head so vigorously that her half-up hair was messed up. Clearly Dakota didn’t care though. Her hand was behind her and she turned to see the person holding it.

It was Oscar, arm looped with Eliza who clung to him like a crutch. Their eyes matched each other, shining brown like horse chestnuts.

Spencer found that he could no longer look away from Oscar. A breeze rustled through his hair. His face was alive with tear tracks and a grin that ached on his rosy cheeks. An old suit, one clearly meant for court and court alone, slouched on his shoulders. But for that short moment where he breathed fresh air and leaned his head on his mother’s, there was no weight to him.

Then Oscar found Spencer, fidgeting with his tie and his grip slacking on the bouquet, and all the emotion he had repressed for five years in prison custody were exploding into a supernova.

Oscar forgot Eliza’s arm, dashing around his family to run for Spencer. Spencer found himself matching the pace and the destination. His feet carried him quick until he and Oscar collided. A fierce hug crushed them. Oscar’s hand was constantly adjusting its grip on the back of Spencer’s head, and Spencer’s free one fisted at Oscar’s suit jacket, trying to bury themselves in his ribcage. Neither missed Oscar’s shaking, his sobbing. Spencer curled into Oscar, wrestling with his instinct to pull away. Lindsey and Cat, they ruined so much for him already; they couldn’t take Oscar too.

When they heard the footsteps of the Dunnagan family stop nearby, the men drew apart – only about a foot or so. Oscar’s cheeks were wet behind his wide smile and Spencer saw that one of his front two teeth was a little crooked.

Spencer then presented his gift in the small space between them, “For you.”

Oscar gently clasped the bouquet on the white ribbon that wrapped around the stalks, “No one’s got me flowers before.”

Spencer then vowed to buy flowers as often as he could for Oscar, and especially sage. He looked so good with purple.

The ride to Danny’s Food Truck had Oscar sat in the little middle seat, his sister on one side, Spencer on the other, and he held both their hands. His bouquet was cradled in his lap. The wet ends of the stalks dripped twice onto his suit trousers, just before his bouncing knee.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Once again, Spencer had lost himself in his work. When he was interrupted just an hour before, Oscar was there. He had waved a hand into Spencer’s peripherals but Spencer still jumped at it. He hated that his skittish behaviour was still prevalent, returning just as Oscar had started appearing in his personal life. In his apartment.

“Sorry, Spencer,” Oscar had said in a gravelly voice, “I just wanted to ask if you were ok with Randy’s for dinner tonight.”

It was two hours before they were due to have dinner.

“Of course, it’s your turn.”

“How’s the work going?”

“It’s good,” and Spencer showed him the notes he’d written so far.

Oscar had taken them into his hands and read over them. Meanwhile Spencer watched his micro expressions. The huff of air through his nose, the corners of his mouth wriggling about as if to smile before flattening themselves out, all seemed positive as Oscar offered the papers back.

“Nice joke!”

“Right, joke…” Spencer accepted his notes back, “Where?”

“There,” Oscar leant over Spencer’s shoulder and tapped the second line of the first paragraph. Spencer noted that he smelt nice. So much better now the Dial soap was out of their care routine.

And it was now that Spencer found himself missing that smell. It was a nice distraction. Burying himself in his work was not a good distraction anymore.

He stood away from his desk and took his mug out to the kitchen sink. Despite trying not to look at the pieces of a vase half-wrapped in newspaper, Oscar’s wailing at the very start of their day together punctured its way into Spencer’s head. One particular thought posited that Spencer should keep one of those jagged pieces – just in case. Just in case of what?

Shaking his head, Spencer went and found the source of his chills: his living room windows were wide open, the curtains lifting gracefully in the breeze. Rain pattered against the world outside, some of its drops reaching the carpet. The smell of the rain was light in the room. It was almost drowned out by the sound.

He found Oscar passed out on the couch, his bare feet poking out from under the throw. His head was resting between his folded arms, one hand under the pillow. His headphones askew and playing “The Flower Garden (Extended Version)” by Joe Hisaishi.

Kneeling next to Oscar, Spencer touched his arm, “Do you want me to order for you?”

Oscar nodded, stretched out, then promptly fell back asleep. He would have trouble later tonight. But Spencer was glad that he finally found some respite. His seemingly endless apologies for breaking the bowl were over.

That was where the good news ended though. Spencer looked closer at Oscar’s hand, now unmasked. A medium piece from the broken vase rested in his loose grip. After some moments deliberating, Spencer eased it out and placed it with the rest of the vase. Then he went to his phone and dialled.

“Hey JJ. I hope it’s not too late, but,” Spencer tapped his nails against the plastic handset, “Would you mind coming over? Oscar is here, but I don’t know if he’s ready to help me through this.”

He smiled at the flowers he’d bought that day standing awkwardly in a jug before hanging up. He and Oscar really should move in together. Or at least he should invest in a sofa bed.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the front door, and Oscar was up on his feet. The sofa’s throw clung to him.

“I invited someone over,” Spencer said quickly, “Sorry I should have told you, but I didn’t want to wake you again. Do you want to wait in my room?”

Oscar stayed in place and shook his head, so Spencer went ahead to open his front door.

Two days apart was far too long. JJ embraced Spencer tight, rubbing his back as she rested her chin on his shoulder. She gave the best hugs. Maybe rivalled by Oscar, but Spencer would never tell her that.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A coffee would be great,” JJ shrugged off her jacket

He pivoted in a half circle, “Oscar?”

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

Spencer wasn’t really sure what happened in his absence – besides his stomach turning itself over and over. When he returned with two mugs, the only information he could garner was that Oscar had dropped the throw back onto the sofa that stood between them and JJ had inched a little closer

“Here!”

Oscar twitched at Spencer’s loud entrance, visibly relaxing by the time JJ had her mug of coffee in her hands. He adjusted the throw until it was back to its original position then crept towards the door.

Spencer frowned, ruining the quiet exit as he said, “Where are you going?”

Oscar thumbed in his direction of travel. “Bathroom.”

“Oh,” Spencer felt his cheeks heat up, “Good luck.”

He saw Oscar rolling his eyes but there was a flash of a grin and a tiny wave to JJ before he disappeared from view. Spencer’s stomach steadied itself, busying itself with sloshing his coffee about instead. His grip around his mug adjusted as he turned to JJ.

“He’s not what I was expecting,” JJ said. There was nothing malicious in her tone. In fact, if there was anything, she seemed pleased that Oscar had subverted her anticipations.

Spencer nodded, his mouth turning up a little smile, “That’s what I thought too. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“It’s ok, anytime.”

They sat together on the sofa, leaving the armchair free just in case Oscar wanted to join them again.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Moving in together was supposed to solve everything.

Neither Spencer nor Oscar explicitly said or thought that. But when their triggers persisted and their behaviour shifted dramatically still, they couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.

Spencer had another nightmare last night and woke Oscar up at around half past three. They couldn’t cuddle each other, but their hands would brush and the two men would avoid looking at the matching scars on their thighs – and Oscar’s on his stomach, Spencer’s on his arm.

“Would you have killed Shaw, if I hadn’t done anything?”

“Yes.” “Does that scare you?”

In the dark, he could hear the fear in Oscar’s voice

“No, because I think I would have done the same.”

Carried on as if he hadn’t heard, still scared of himself, “I wouldn’t do something like that now.”

Oscar spent the rest of the night on the couch, so he wouldn’t touch Spencer in his sleep. Words of his therapist spun around his head: “Prison twists and warps people until they’re worse than they were before. We can’t speak now for what we would have done then.”

It was a quiet day as a result of the restless night. Quiet was nice sometimes; it was something new for them to experience together. Spencer and Oscar had breakfast together, washed and dressed, before they went down to the communal laundrette together. Washing and drying clothes was too big a task to do alone, even now, and Oscar needed his shirt to be clean for his job interview in a few days. The nightmare Spencer had faded into the background as he tried to focus on something else.

Without realising, he said aloud to Oscar, “I wanted to kiss you in the laundry room.”

Oscar stopped stretching his damp pyjama shirt out, and it was clear that he had joined Spencer in reminiscing about their job in prison.

“Which time?”

“Every time.”

Spencer watched as Oscar let out a quiet “heh”, a shy smile playing on his lips. But Oscar cut it off quick before either of them could enjoy it, and he reset his expression to blank. The silence that followed swallowed them both whole.

“Oscar,” Spencer moved next to Oscar and, in clear view, touched him on the arm, “It’s ok. You can laugh.”

“I know.”

“You can smile if you want to,”

“I can smile,” Oscar repeated, his words grounding him next to Spencer, his hands flattened atop the dryer as it rumbled into life. His lungs took in a few more breaths to spread a thin layer of calm over him and he looked back at Spencer, “I can also kiss you if I want to, if you want.”

Checking the laundrette door, Spencer’s hand moved from Oscar’s arm to Oscar’s cheek, guiding him home. Their lips met in messy perfection. Short and sweet, with a sigh shared between them, Spencer was pleased to see the smile returned to Oscar by the time they separated. As tense as Oscar felt in his arms, even with the smile soon fading, Spencer could feel the tiniest slack in his shoulders now.

With the most burdensome chore out of the way, the two men returned to the flat. Spencer helped Oscar compose another covering letter to ship off to another job opening before they called Oscar’s family for lunch.

Facetiming was always a trip when they were calling the Dunnagans. Tony had a similar understanding of “technology” as Spencer, so when he answered the call, it was a close up of a nostril or a frowning muted face that greeted Oscar and Spencer on the laptop screen. Eventually Eliza saved them from an eternal farce. She brought them into her kitchen, bringing Dakota and her partner Ellis in on the call when it was time to prep for lunch.

Dakota led the way with a recipe from her restaurant, “If any of you dare share this with anyone, I’ll knock you out.”

Her laugh only sang one note before she slapped her hand over it and looked down at her screen with a face full of guilt. Oscar laughed it off, maybe a little forced, then he swiped at the nearest conversation topic – the world’s hottest pepper.

“Maybe you could stick in in your next recipe. Do a competition where if you eat all the spicy stuff, you get your name on the wall and get half off or something.”

And the call continued for a little longer.

Spencer was just testing out the new spices acquired in their online shop – because according to Dakota there was nothing is worse than being able to actually taste the chicken – when the screen froze. A tiny widget popped up to inform the men that the signal was too poor to continue the call.

Oscar wiggled the mouse, “Oh, God, your connection’s gone again. You mind if I try and find us a better provider?”

“Go for it.”

They clinked their wine glasses together, sipping with questionable responses to it. Oscar dared another sip while Spencer was satisfied with just the one, deciding instead to check on the chicken.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

Oscar placed his wine down. “Are we boyfriends?”

In all their time together, Spencer realised they never once spoke about their relationship status. They just sort of… moved in together, shared a bed, held hands and kissed occasionally – without discussing what was going on.

He said with relative boldness, “I’d like to be.”

“I’d like to be too,” Oscar bit his lip, the smile distorting but still charming as ever. His arms swayed a little. “Can I hug you please?”

With a renewed sense of vigour, Spencer said, “Yes please.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Spencer’s mind needed a rest; perhaps returning to the geographic profile after some time apart would garner a new connection. This case was driving everyone nuts, not just him, and it was only the third day in. he plucked his mug and headed over to the coffee pot for a top-up.

Whilst pouring his third cup of the morning, Spencer took note of his phone’s weight in his trouser pocket. He decided to lessen it, his hand reaching in and dialling for Oscar.

The call clicked after three rings then a boisterous laugh erupted from the speaker.

“Sorry, Spencer! This little one keeps jumping up at me! She barely reaches my knees!” Oscar’s voice was playful. Little claws clicked on a hard floor followed by a tiny yet indignant yip that was echoed by several much deeper barks. Spencer assumed this little one was a ring leader at the dog kennel, the one Oscar was trying to sweet talk.

“That’s ok. You sound like you’re having a good time.”

“It’s brilliant! They let me take four dogs out on a walk at a time!”

The ache in Spencer’s left shoulder from sleeping in an odd position alleviated just a touch. “Yeah?”

“I think I might try to get my licence back, so I can maybe drive them out to the countryside.”

“That’s brilliant news.”

“How’s the case?”

“I’m just taking a break.” Spencer sipped his coffee, burning the back of his throat. As he flinched, he caught sight of Luke’s hand, waving him back over to the conference room. “Sorry, Oscar, I have to get back to the profile.”

“I really like how you say ‘Oscar’.”

“I’m just saying your name.”

“I know,” and Spencer could very clearly hear Oscar’s smile in his voice – even over the constant din from the dogs he was caring for.

“I like how you say my name. See you later?”

“Hopefully. Take care of yourself.”

What a delight to see Oscar, after a rush of evidence flooding in and the pieces slotting together in a now-obvious profile. That evening in fact, Spencer made it back to his apartment at the same time as Oscar. He was carrying a plastic bag to mirror Spencer’s satchel. He didn’t feel like cooking and knew that Spencer wouldn’t be in the mood either; it was a few microwaved meals from the local store in his bag.

They ate dinner in the sitting room on trays - as a treat – and they partook in a very one-sided conversation about Star Trek. Oscar didn’t seem to mind, and honestly Spencer liked the freedom that came with talking here. It was like a hint of who he was before was bleeding through. Every so often though, Oscar would remind him that his food was going to get cold. Spencer would take a moment to eat before the next interesting factoid was inspired from the episode on the TV.

At the start of the next episode, his plate empty, Spencer noticed that Oscar’s gaze was a little restless as he finished his dinner.

“Is something bothering you?” He asked, adjusting his position on the sofa.

Oscar shrugged as he put his cushioned lap tray onto the carpet, “Not bothering me. I’m just curious about something.”

Naturally, Spencer said, “Ask me.” Maybe it was the difference between Vulcans and Romulans again.

“When you stabbed yourself while looking at me, before you got out, was that a substitution for sex?”

Spencer blinked several times. He could feel pinstripes forming on his forehead. He cleared his throat, took a sip of his water, cleared his throat again.

“No, no. I… um.”

Then he stopped because he realised he didn’t quite have an answer yet. His mind was busy straying back to that moment: the flare of pain in his leg and arm, the roaring of inmates around his head, and Oscar - an island of frozen calm amidst the chaos of Spencer’s actions. Eventually, Spencer found a semblance of a reply and he delivered it.

“I was just looking around, and I found you. I think I was looking for comfort.”

Seemingly accepting of this, Oscar’s attention moved back to the TV. His hands occupied themselves with each other. However, Spencer was not quite ready to let the subject go; he’d been thinking about this a lot lately.

“I’m sorry we haven’t…”

Oscar picked up what he was putting down, “Don’t be sorry, Spencer. Don’t ever, ever be sorry for that. I didn’t ask to guilt you. It was in the lesson you taught last week. I listened to it on my break today.”

The image of his Dictaphone on the desk at college - and another of it hanging out of Oscar’s rucksack’s front pocket – recalled itself in Spencer’s head.

“I probably could have asked you a bit nicer,” Oscar altered his position on the couch to bring his knees up to his chest.

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry, Spencer.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Could you tell me more about the Romulans please?”

As Spencer restarted his speech, albeit with less enthusiasm than before, Oscar brought out his notepad from his backpack. His fingers pinched around the blue crayon as he scrawled Spencer’s facts, putting the differences into a roughly drawn table.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Seeing Oscar standing in the bullpen with a visitor’s badge was not what Spencer expected to see today. He certainly didn’t expect to see him sipping tea with Penelope and chatting away at Spencer’s empty desk. Oscar had clearly just arrived, still bundled up in his coat. The flowers Oscar had sent to the office that morning stood gorgeously arranged beside his oft-neglected computer desktop.

“Hi!” Spencer power-walked up to them, almost reaching a jog. Oscar met him halfway, but his pace decreased the closer he got to Spencer. It was the sound of the team drawing through the glass double doors that told Spencer what was going through his head.

He turned to his family, already gesturing behind him where Oscar stood, “Everyone, this is my boyfriend Oscar.”

Waving, Oscar had his other hand stuck deep in his pocket as he spoke, “Penelope gave me the rundown of your names. Nice to meet you.”

The team was rather tired from the case and obviously a little caught off guard by the fact that the felon Spencer had fallen for was just hanging around in their bullpen. But Spencer was relieved when they all greeted Oscar with a fairly warm manner, wished Spencer "happy birthday" again, before they shuffled off to their respective desks and offices. Penelope bid her farewell to Oscar with the promise of a movie night some time in the future. Then she hugged her Boy Wonder and returned to her batcave.

“Sorry,” Oscar said quietly, “I wanted to travel home with you. Kinda forgot that I would be running into your whole team.”

“I don’t mind. In fact, I wanted you to meet them.”

Spencer’s hand stayed in Oscar’s for the entire walk back to Oscar’s new car in the lot. While they parted momentarily en route, they found each other again when Oscar had to pull over during the drive home. The car that had swerved and cut in front of them became two red lights in the far distance, the sound of its engine and screeching tires muted by Oscar’s heavy breathing.

Oscar released the steering wheel and clung to Spencer’s hand, but Spencer could feel that Oscar was holding back, trying not to crush his fingers. He rubbed over Oscar’s knuckles.

“In, two, three, four,” Spencer counted, “Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

He repeated this five times and Oscar leant back in his seat.

“I was doing so well,” He said, his voice cracking in its quietness.

“You still are. We both are.” Spencer kissed the back of Oscar’s hand, “Come on, I’ll drive us the rest of the way.”

Two blocks later and they were about to enter their apartment.

Oscar stopped them though, just before Spencer’s key met the lock, “Could you wait out here? Just for a minute, please?”

Spencer complied, a countdown in his head clicking off the seconds as soon as his front door was closed to him. A smile crept onto his face as he heard Oscar clattering about the apartment. He wasn’t exactly being subtle; Spencer wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once Spencer was finally allowed in, he was greeted by a low-lit scene. Oscar was holding a match to the last candle at the table. He’d taken off his long coat to revealing a freshly ironed floral pattern. The stereo speakers were already humming Mozart. The crumpled takeaway paper bag by the pedal bin didn’t go unnoticed, but Spencer decided to focus instead on how the food was arranged on the plates - either side of a delightful floral arrangement.

“Oh Oscar, you already got me so much this morning,” Spencer said sheepishly, with the knowledge that he had avoided looking up the prices of his gifts so he could calculate just how much of Oscar’s third paycheque went into his birthday.

“I know, but I wanted your birthday to be perfect,” Oscar opened up one of the tubs, a wave of steam lifting gently with the lid, “It’s from the new Thai place down the road.”

Spencer hung up his satchel on his its hook, “I suppose I have been wanting to try their green curry for a while now.”

Once he had changed into something more comfortable (plus a hint of smartness), Spencer sat down with Oscar for dinner. Both men found that he was not immune to the romanticism of a candlelit dinner with his boyfriend, and Spencer more so. The effort behind it, the aroma of the lavender candle with the spiced food, the glow around his Oscar’s face as he went over the day behind them, it was all getting to him.

Of course, Oscar offered to clean up once they were done eating and talking – for now at least. Spencer still helped though. Any time with Oscar was time well spent. Even loading the dishwasher. Except now Oscar was staring at Spencer’s face, gaze fidgeting between his eyes and his mouth, and Spencer was worrying about it.

Christ, what was he meant to do to let Oscar know he wanted to kiss him without saying so? Pout?

“Are you ok?” Oscar’s brow creased.

Fuck.

“Yes,” Spencer said, quickly removing the pout from his lips, “I’m good.”

“Good.” Oscar swung their linked hands between them thrice. Then he let go of one to thumb across the corner of Spencer’s jaw and he closed the gap between them. Spencer felt Oscar’s recently applied lip balm on his chapped lips, those stupid lips that Spencer spent too much time thinking about. They felt so much better against Spencer’s and smiling with reckless abandon. So reckless, in fact, that the smile grew into a laugh, buzzing against Spencer and tickling him more than his facial hair.

Oscar pulled away, still giggling and apologising, “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you.”

“I know you’re not. You’d never laugh at me.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

A chorus of “hello!” harmonised in the doorway as the Dunnagans’ entered Spencer and Oscar’s apartment. Laden with gifts and food offerings, Tony, Eliza, and Dakota kissed and hugged their way into the sitting room.

Oscar and Dakota were the ones in charge, everyone else on some kind of prep duty while they ordered them about in the politest manner. Spencer was trying to be a good prep boy but Eliza was just better and faster, so he stuck to cleaning as they went. Oscar kissed his cheek while passing by; Tony had hung up a sprig of mistletoe just over their heads. Ducking away to avoid kissing his potential father-in-law, Spencer chased the sound of his phone ringing. He even ducked under it as if lowering his torso would avoid the mistletoe above him.

All five swayed ever so slightly out of sync as they bellowed the classics and groaned over the pop renditions. Spencer’s new watch hugged his wrist and ticked away each pleasant second.

“No, don’t hide your hair!” Eliza ripped off the Santa hat Spencer’s head and pulled up flattened tufts of his hair until it resumed its usual messy state.

“There! Never get a haircut, you’re too handsome for that.” She patted his cheek before taking another swig of her red wine – the same shade as her Christmas jumper and Spencer’s cheeks. Spencer looked to Oscar, not to protest but to see if he had Oscar witnessed this.

Oscar merely shrugged, “I mean she’s not wrong.” He finished off peeling the sprouts, handing them over to Tony for chopping, “I have to admit, it was one of the things that drew me to you when we met.”

“Really?”

Another nod in response, Oscar drew nearer, closing the conversation to everyone but Spencer, “You and your Bambi eyes and your hair and your perfect mouth.”

Spencer suddenly found himself unable to look directly at Oscar, as if he were the sun. An outsider looking in might infer that it was the gaudy red of his horrendous Christmas jumper that made his cheeks seem so pink. They would be wrong.

Spencer burst out, “It was Rossi on the phone. He wants to know if you’re still coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m not backing out. If I start to, I need you behind me and pushing me through the door.” Oscar’s shoulders twitched with his laugh.

“I don’t know, feels like you could toss me over your shoulder if you wanted.”

“I could. Technically.”

Spencer’s cheeks went scarlet at the thought of Oscar carrying him down Rossi’s driveway in such a way. But before he could ask Oscar to slow the flow of compliments, Dakota called to them across the room: “Aw, Oscar, you’ve got your own stocking?”

“Yeah, Spencer bought it for me, early gift!” It hung proudly on the bookshelf beside Spencer’s.

The table had already been set for the family. Dakota brought her own crackers, informing them that the snap had been removed. Terrible paper crown and horrendous jokes were passed around the five people before they dished up their Christmas dinner. Comically small in his hands, Oscar cradled the box of the primary coloured crayons in his palm and frisbeed the ruler with the shapes cut out over to Eliza.

The pigs in blankets were a little burnt, the nut roast barely touched, and there was so much left over that they would be eating ham and turkey sandwiches for days to come.

Spencer was so full of food and joy that it would be impossible to be carried on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He settled instead for being held in Oscar’s lap as they squished into the armchair, the rest of the family on the couch to watch the garbage Christmas specials. Dozing on his shoulder with a close-lipped smile, Oscar looked content. His yellow paper crown was crushed near the front, slipping down his left temple.

Oh, Spencer was grateful for his dedicated memory. He could match and topple all those memories of them in prison with times like these forever – and he planned on doing just that.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x oc #my writing #r: male #wc: 10k+

92 notes · View notes

jj-5656 · 4 years ago

Text

Feelings On Safety With;Diego Hargreeves

If it weren’t for the pouring rain outside her apartment, perhaps y/n could fall asleep. But even if the storm had subsided, she doubts her current anxiety could let her succumb to slumber. Usually she’d be able to sleep when Diego is out patrolling, knowing he’d notify her if anything had ever gone south during one of is patrols. Tonight is different though, earlier in the day the two had a terrible fight about said patrols. A group of men had robbed a grocery store just a few days before, having killed three civilians in the process. Diego, having had wormed himself in on yet another police investigation, had discovered the group was suspected to be hitting another business sometime in the next week.

This wasn’t just any other two-man home invasion on her boyfriend’s usual radar. These men were strategic criminals, prepared to kill if they had to. Needless to say it was a heated argument, one in which y/n had become overwhelmingly upset. Overcome with the thought of Diego getting too in over his head and not making it home this time, she went off on him.

“Maybe if you still weren’t so caught up on your fragile ass ego you’d know when to leave this shit to the cops!”

She shuddered at the memory, willing it away with a quick shake of her head. It was a low blow, she knew it as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Considering his past with the police academy and Patch. At birth he was number two, constantly reminded he wasn’t good enough. Y/n was well aware of the fact that she was one of the only people that knew so much of her boyfriends messy past. Her heart wrenching at the thought of the pained look in his eyes as he snatched his harness and stormed out of their shared apartment without another word.

The kitchen clock read 2 am, taunting her pacing figure with each malicious tick. Diego’s patrols always had her nervous, but the thought of her last words to him being so cruel were eating her up inside. Knawing on her fingernails, she willed back tears in order to keep calm. He’s gonna come home...He has to.

The living room tv took her attention away from the clock, a “Breaking News” across the screen catching her eye as she practically dove towards it. Frantically turning up the volume, she watched as the anchor spoke about the recent robbing of local businesses. The six men had been caught and taken into police custody an hour ago, further details of the arrest would be released once the police gave the public an official statement. He did it.

As if on cue, the sound of keys jiggling outside had made her jump. Her eager pace allowing her to reach the front door as it opened and Diego stumbled inside. Effectively falling into his girlfriends arms as he groaned.

“Jesus Diego what the hell happened?”

“It’s nothing, just-mmph scrawny bastards had to tag team me.” He straightened up and limped towards the kitchen sink as he spoke, leaning against it with another groan as y/n hurriedly retrieved a first aid kit from the coat closet. No words were exchanged as he watched her place the kit on the counter and look to where his hands were holding his side. Smaller hands gently lifting the soaked fabric of his shirt, letting out a small gasp at the nasty gash on his side.

“B-bullet grazed me.” He explained through gritted teeth, her shorter figure slightly jumping as she held gauze to the wound to stop the bleeding.

“I’ll have to put some alcohol on it.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, avoiding his eyes as he nodded. Little words were exchanged as she worked, only small grunts or hisses of pain from Diego and mutters of apology from her.

He was still mad, understandably so. Y/n could tell by his stiff stance as she tended to his other wounds, his furrowed eyebrows as she dabbed the cuts on his face. The whole time avoiding her worried eyes. Y/n was well aware Diego was too stubborn to bring up, or perhaps too hurt to. Her heart wrenched at the thought, willing back tears as she worked.

Diego looked down to the girl below him, quietly huffing as the sleeves to her-his sweater repeatedly slid down her arms as she moved them, the fabric effectively swamping her hands before she rolled them up once more. He shuddered as her fingers brushed against his skin, silently willing his heart to slow at their proximity. Even after two years, he found himself affected by her presence. Sometimes, he wondered if she had powers of her own...Her damn eyes, he swore they were magic by the way they could read him. But they were distant now, much more focused on his wounds and her feet than him. Which reminded Diego why his hands were clutching the cold marble countertops instead of her.

He remembered her words, the way they slipped past her lips with such ferocity and emotion. Her features immediately filling with regret. Her mouth falling open, he assumed to apologize but he was out the door before she could even blink.

In truth, Diego hated nothing more than weakness. But anger didn’t exactly coincide with weakness, anger was easy. Anger is simple...You get pissed off, you punch something and move on. For as long as Diego could remeber he was mad. Whether it was his bastard of a father, his siblings, or his infuriating stutter. His entire life he was angry, until he met y/n.

The way she cared about him, the only person who ever truly had without having been programmed to. It was completely overwhelming, all of it. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh, her everything. She helped him tear down walls he hadn’t even known he’d built around himself. So what was he to do when the one person he went to with his feelings was the one that hurt them?

His internal dialogue was interrupted by a small sniffle, attention snapping to his girlfriend. Now hurriedly picking up miscellaneous band aid and gauze wrappers in her hands. (Actually, Diego Hargreeves hated nothing more than seeing y/n cry)

“H-hey, hey. D-don’t cr-cry.” His words were mumbled at first, before he cleared his throat and mentally pictured each letter to form the words he so desperately wanted to come out.

Y/n quickly wiped her sleeve across her face, brows furrowing in frustration at her tears.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

“It really, it really doesn’t hurt that bad bab-”

“No Diego. No, I mean I’m sorry about what I said to you. It-It was so, so terrible and I really didn’t mean any of it. It’s just, you’re so quick to go and save people and sometimes I think you forget what could happen to you. Y-you forget that I’m at home waiting for you. And I know, I know when we got together you warned me about what you do and I get it. You save people, I know that. But I’m always wondering if you’re okay and it’s s-so scary sometimes baby. And if something had happened to you tonight...After what I said I-I couldn’t live with myself Diego I-”

“Woah, woah. Hey, I’m n-not g-g-going anywher o-okay?” Diego interuppted he rambling with his own stuttered words. Trying desperately to calm her sobs whilst willing each syllable to come together. He was holding her in his lap now, somehow having shuffled the both of them to their befroom between her hiccuped cries.

“No, no Di you don-you don’t get it. I can’t lose you okay? Sometimes you’re too brave for you’re own good and it’s fucking terrifying. It doesn’t make what I said right, but I just don’t want to lose you.” Her arms around him tightened as she took a shaky breath from in between his neck and shoulder.

“I kn-know.”

“I’m so sorry Diego.”

“I know, it’s o-okay. I promise I’m n-not g-g-going to l-le-lea-” He grunted in frustration as the words escaped his mind, his mind moving too fast for his damn tongue to process.

Y/n lifted her head from his shoulder, gently grabbing his face so he could look at her. Her thumb softly wiping away the warm tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Calm down Di, let the words come to you. I hear you bab-” she was cut off by his lips against hers. Large hands coming up to cup her face in an effort to express what he was trying to say in a different way. She reciprocated just as passionately, hands holding each other as close as possible as if to seal the unspoken words in a communication only they would know.

Eventually, Diego reluctantly pulled away from her. Foreheads pressing together as he let out a soft chuckle.

“What?”

“I g-guess you were kinda right too. About the whole ‘fragile ass ego’ thing. Considering I almost bled out on the way here. But you should really see the other guys.”

“Jesus Christ, Diego.”

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves imagines #diego hargreeves one shot #imagines #fanfic #diego hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #netflix #The Umbrella Acacdemy #ben hargreeves #number five #number two #tua vanya #tua fanfic #tua netflix #tua number five #tua number two

166 notes · View notes

kirah69 · 4 years ago

Note

Or Stiles and/or Peter have a really bad bout of dysphoria. If not triggering for you ❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍

Yes! Thank you!

So here it is. For the Full Moon Ficlet Prompt DISCONNECTED & for the @transbingo: Vampires.

Dysphoria: It's a term for the anguish and distress a person experiences as a result of a disconnect between their gender identity — who they feel they are — and the gender a doctor assigned them at birth.

Laura Beltrán Villamizar

Title: Fucking Vampires

Pairing: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Summary: A fucking vampire turns Stiles and sends to hell all the effort he had made with his transition.

Warnings: Trans male Stiles, Vampires, Forced detransition, Angst, Strong body disphoria

Chapters: 1/?

[AO3 link]

Chapter 1

Stiles woke up in a fucking abandoned warehouse, again. Why couldn't he wake up for once in the bed of an attractive stranger? Oh yeah, for that he would have to socialize. He hadn't even been caught drunk on the way home from a party, at least then he'd have an excuse. Someone (or something) had caught him back from the library late at night. He didn't even remember how it happened, just he was on the street and now he was- oh wait, it wasn't a warehouse.

That in the background was the noise of the subway and behind him was an old subway car. Everything looked gray under the few remaining lights on the ceiling (which were brighter than he'd expect), maybe it was just covered in dust. The air seemed stagnant, and he could smell decomposing bodies. It must have been an abandoned station and by the boxes, the makeshift tents with old fabrics, the gasoline drums turned into bonfires and so on, homeless people lived there. He was probably sitting on the bed of one of them. Where were they? There was not a soul around him, not even rats.

Stiles felt his head for any injuries (the bad guys had a habit of hitting him on the head to knock him unconscious) and there was some dried blood, but no wound, it didn't even hurt. He looked down to see if there were any other injuries and-.

His heart stopped. He lost his breath. His mind went blank for an instant, and then he was filled with sheer panic and terror.

It can't be, it can't be, no no no nononononono, not again, how, no, why, it can't be, not again, please, please, why, how, this can't-, nono nonononono...

He couldn't know how long he was like this until his mind settled down, just long enough to form rational thoughts. Everything had returned. Someone... something had kidnapped him and had... had... Oh god, fuck, something, somehow, had made his body return to... its original form. He had tried so hard to get rid of all that and now... now they were back. His breasts. And inside of him... he was pretty sure his ovaries and uterus had returned as well. He brought a shaking hand to his groin and... shit, his clit had returned to its original size as well. He was terrified of looking in a mirror or talking; he didn't want to hear himself, he didn't want to see his face again with feminine features.

Eight fucking years of hormone therapy and operations gone to waste! Who the hell had done that and how? And how come he still hadn't passed out from the panic attack? His chest... didn't ache. It should, and he should be out of breath and blacked out, but it was as if he didn't need to breathe even though his lungs continued to inflate and deflate.

He stopped thinking about it when he felt another presence nearby. “Feel” was the right word because he didn't hear it or see it until it was in front of him. It was a tall man with long blond hair in a ponytail, intense green eyes and extremely pale skin. He was dressed in black from top to bottom with a knee-length leather coat. Was it a requirement for sinister villains?

“How are you feeling?” asked Stranger with a French accent. Oh wait, he had read this.

“Are you a fucking vampire?”

There was a shocked expression on his face followed by a smile that showed too many teeth.

“I knew I had caught a smart one. My nam-.”

“What have you done to my body? Why did you do this to me?”

“Um... Well... I admit I didn't expect it.” He seemed to be trying to smile, but he grimaced instead. “It's the first time I've turned... well, someone like you. I didn't even know you were a woman.”

“I'm not a woman!” he hissed through his teeth.

“I mean, I knew that the transformation regenerates mutilated limbs, missing organs...” he explained with wide gestures of his hands, “but I didn't even know you were an operated girl.”

“Man! I. Am. A. Man!” he screamed and flinched at the sound of his high-pitched voice.

“Um... Look... I'm very sorry about this, but I have to say that you look very pretty like that.”

Stiles saw red. Something reacted within him, like the snap of a whip, and just as quickly he launched himself at the creature. He didn't think about it, he didn't consciously do it. It was as if the beast mode switch had been flipped and his humanity had stepped aside. He felt everything, he acted with all the precision that his new abilities allowed him, but he did not control it.

When his prey stopped moving in his hands, he came back to his senses. He first noticed the blood in his mouth, a taste that should have been disgusting, but he just swallowed. His hands were covered in the same blood and his clothes too. He had practically bled that pig out, appropriate. He had a broken arm, but he could already feel it regenerating. The vampire's body was at his feet. Or part of it. A pair of limbs were scattered around him, and his head had ended up on top of the subway car.

He let out a shaky breath and staggered backward until he tripped over some box and fell to the ground. His mind returned to his situation and he stopped breathing. Not that he needed it anymore. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone, but it slipped between his blood-soaked hands. He tried to catch it a couple more times, but ended up giving up. He left it on the ground and dialed the number. It was a miracle that there was signal there, and he attributed the first tears to the relief it made him feel. He lay down next to him with his knees and arms curled, making himself as small as he could, and waited as the tones sounded.

“Hello, Stiles.”

He heard Peter's cheerful voice, and a sob escaped him.

“Stiles, what's wrong?” His voice quickly turned concerned.

“Peter.” Shit, why did his voice have to sound like this?

“Stiles?” He sounded confused, perhaps because he didn't recognize his voice.

What could he say? How could he explain all that? He didn't want to say it out loud, he didn't want to hear himself in that voice talking about his worst nightmare. He sobbed again, his chest contracting in a strange way because he didn't need to breathe, but he was trying and surely it was necessary to speak.

“Stiles, listen to me, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me where you are.”

That made him give a nervous laugh, and he seemed to be able to control his diaphragm again.

“An abandoned subway station.”

“Can you go to a public place? Can you get help?” he asked calmly, though his voice was full of concern.

“Um... I can... Wait, what time...” He turned his head to see the screen. 3:29 pm. “No, I can't go out. Peter...”

“Don't worry, I'm on my way.” It was true, he could hear the car's engine. “If you can, don't turn off your phone, I have located you. Are you safe? Do you have danger nearby?”

“No, I'm alone.” He felt a great relief knowing that Peter was on his way. He was going to take hours, he had to get there from Beacon Hills, but Stiles knew he would speed up as much as he could to get there as soon as possible.

“Okay. Are you hurt?”

Stiles began to cry louder. No, technically he wasn't hurt, it was even worse.

“Stiles, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. Are you hurt?”

“N-no, no. Peter...” he said with a whine.

“I'm on my way, hold on. Hide if you can. You'd have to hang up or the battery-.”

“No! Peter, please...” The idea of staying there alone without even Peter's voice terrified him.

“It's okay, I'm here. Can you tell me what happened?”

He knew Peter just wanted to distract him so that time would pass faster, although for him it was enough to hear his heartbeat on the other end of the phone (it was strange and at the same time comforting that he could hear it).

“I was coming back from the library last night. God, I don't know how I could have been unconscious for so long. I woke up here a few minutes ago and this...” he gave a humorless laugh at how ridiculous it was,” this vampire appeared. A fucking vampire, Peter! Why did it have to be a vampire? If it had been... anything else.”

Anything, even if its only intention had been to kill him. That would have been better than what had happened.

“Well, now we can be a cliché.”

Stiles wanted to laugh, but the sound that came out of his mouth sounded more like a groan. Then his cell phone started beeping.

“No, no, no, no, no.”

He leaned over the phone, there was only five percent battery.

“Stiles, you have to hang up. I promise I'll be there soon, but you have to hang up and keep your phone nearby in case you move. I have your GPS signal located, I don't want to lose it.”

Stiles wasn't going to ask how he had located his phone, Peter was up to date with technology. At that moment he was only grateful for it because the truth was that he had no idea where that station was.

“Okay. Don't let the police arrest you.”

“They couldn't reach my car even if they tried. Although maybe you should be listening for police sirens.”

He hung up the phone reluctantly and brought it close to his body, it was his only connection with Peter. Maybe he should feel bad about not calling his father. He could have arrived quickly with the siren without risking a chase, but the truth was that Stiles didn't know if he would come, he didn't know if he would pick up the phone or if he would believe him when he explained the situation or even if he would consider it important enough to travel from Beacon Hills. In short, he couldn't trust his father to help him. He had been aware of it for a long time, but at times like this it was particularly painful.

He could have called Derek, he also lived in Los Angeles, but most likely he wouldn't even pick up the phone and besides, Derek had no idea of his situation and it would be very awkward to explain. Lydia lived in New York, they barely kept in touch in recent years; and it would be futile to try to contact Scott now that he was on the run in Canada with his latest romance, a hunter whose family weren't too happy about her dating a werewolf. (Stiles was not at all surprised that history repeated itself.)

However, he had no doubt that Peter would come, even if he had to cross the country to do so. He was the last werewolf in Beacon Hills and the one in charge of protecting the town since Scott had abandoned his duties as alpha of the territory. After Scott's departure, Peter had sent the few werewolves of his abandoned pack out to other packs to take care of them while he stayed there alone. Peter was an omega, but he was far more capable of keeping the people of Beacon Hills safe than Scott and his entire pack had been. Stiles had kept in touch with him while he was studying in Los Angeles. At first it had been to keep up with the threats against Beacon Hills, but everything had settled down in a few months and they had still kept in touch.

Peter didn't know about his situation either, but Stiles felt that he would understand it much better than Derek. Although if Peter told him like that asshole that he was fine like this, Stiles was not responsible for his actions.

Maybe he fell asleep at some point or got too distracted because suddenly a noise made him react and he jumped up. His body took on a fighting pose not unlike a cat instinctively. It was a distant metallic noise, but more sounds followed like footsteps, gates opening and closing, and a heartbeat. He then smelled a person before he even saw it. He heard a kind of hiss and realized it was coming from him. He was a snake now? Then he saw Peter appear from one of the tunnels and the hiss stopped. His legs shook, and he was about to collapse, but then Peter was there to hold him. He tried to call his name, but he had forgotten to breathe and there was no air in his lungs to make his vocal chords vibrate.

“I've got you, I've got you,” Peter whispered, sitting him down on the closest mattress without leaving him.

Stiles shrugged and buried his face in Peter's neck, clutching his shirt with both hands. He had forgotten about the blood that now also stained the wolf's clothing. He sobbed in great relief now that at last he was not alone. One hand stroked his back comforting while the other held him tightly.

“You did a great job,” Peter commented. Stiles frowned and then realized he was talking about the vampire's corpse. “We'll have to burn it to make sure it doesn't resurrect, but decapitation is definitely the best method.”

“Good to know, you can use it with me.”

“Hey, no, don't say that.” Peter hugged him tighter and kissed his hair. “You're going to be fine, you're going to get over this.”

“Peter, I... this... m-my body...” Fuck, he couldn't say it.

“I know. I know, sweetheart. We'll fix it, I'll find a way,” he told him confidently, and his heart didn't give any lies away.

“How are we doing...? Wait, you know?” Stiles lifted his head and looked at him confused.

Peter looked at him almost tenderly, a slight curve on his lips.

“From the beginning, well, from the formal. At first the smell of Adderall prevented me from recognizing the other medications, but then it was clear.”

“So, all werewolves...” The idea that any werewolf, any creature with enhanced senses could...

“No, don't worry, if you don't know how to recognize them, it's difficult to distinguish between medications. I had a friend in college who was also under hormonal treatment, that's why I was able to recognize them.”

“My smell isn't... is...” He had always worried about so many things so that people would not notice his situation and now he had to worry about another one.

“It's slightly different from most boys your age, although mainly because of its lack of smell of semen and most would attribute it to a lack of sexual activity. Anyway, you don't have to worry about it, you will soon be practically scentless.”

Stiles frowned and ducked his head to smell himself. He smelled of blood and other foreign smells, but he could barely smell his personal scent.

“It's a peculiarity of vampires,” Peter explained. “It's the way to recognize them, although the most skilled strive to simulate a human smell.”

“Huh. Well, it's not my main concern right now. What...? Fuck, how am I going to-?”

“We. We're going to fix this, both of us.”

“But how?! I can't even have surgery again! It'd just... again...”

“I know, but I'm sure there's some magic that allows us to recover your body. In ancient times surgeries wasn't an option, but magic is older than science. We'll find the spell we need or create it if necessary,” he said it with such conviction that it made him think it was true, that it was possible.

“Werewolves can't use magic,” he whispered.

“But vampires can. You already had a slight affinity for magic as a human, but now, with a little training, you'll be able to use it without restriction.” That proud smile on his face made him blush (or would have if he could still blush).

“You don't have to-.”

“Shh, none of that. We're going to do this together, don't doubt it.” His expression was determined. Stiles was sure that, even if he refused, Peter would keep trying to help him behind his back.

It was comforting that someone cared so much about him. Stiles sighed in relief and relaxed next to Peter, waiting until it got dark.

Peter took him out of the subway station through its abandoned entrance. It was in the suburbs, a pretty abandoned area in every sense, which was good since he was still covered in blood. Peter's Shelby Cobra was right at the entrance (it was a miracle it hadn't been stolen while they were waiting). It was a shame to stain the extremely expensive upholstery with blood, but he didn't have a choice either, and Peter didn't seem to care.

It took them almost an hour to get to Peter's apartment in one of the highest-class buildings in Los Angeles. It had been his property for years, but he didn't use it often, a few times a year when he went to visit Derek or when Stiles needed help with a research. It was an open, modern space with wooden floors, large windows, and metal, glass, and leather furniture. It was quite impressive, especially the views of the city, but Stiles preferred his house in Beacon Hills, much more homey and full of antiques and books.

“Did you bring your laptop?” Stiles asked.

“I'm afraid not, I was in a bit of a hurry. Why don't you take a shower, and I'll go find yours at your place?”

“I had it with me in my backpack, but I haven't seen it at the station. Maybe he got rid of everything when he kidnapped me.”

“Then I'll go to buy a new one, there'll still be a store open. Make yourself comfortable, there are clothes in the room, take what you want.”

Peter left before Stiles could tell him that he didn't have to buy him a new laptop. It would have been useless anyway, he was that stubborn. Stiles walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror without thinking, which was a big, big mistake. There was the body that he had worked so hard to change. As if he had done nothing in those years, as if all the suffering had been for nothing. He got into the shower and slammed the glass door. The crystal exploded, falling into small fragments around him. Stiles started crying cowering in the corner of the shower. He was a monster and not just because he was a vampire.

When Peter returned, he didn't say a word. He stepped over the glass and scooped him up, carrying him into the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He sat him on the shower bench and turned on the shower head, not caring about getting wet himself.

“Stiles, tell me if I can take your clothes off or if you want to do it yourself. You have to take a shower, you have to clean this blood.”

At any other time the idea of being naked with that body in front of someone else (in front of himself) would have been terrifying, but he saw the blue eyes that were watching him so worriedly, and he knew that Peter could handle it better than himself. He nodded and raised his arms almost like a zombie. Peter didn't bother to pull the shirt over his head, he just ripped the front with a sharp claw.

“Hey!” he exclaimed in surprise.

“It's beyond saving.”

Peter removed his T-shirt along with the shirt he was wearing on top of it, then lifted him with one arm around his waist and pulled down his pants and boxers. Peter let him sit down again, his body was shaking. He reached for the shower head, and the water washed away the surface blood before Peter scrubbed it all off with the sponge. He was meticulous, cleaning even behind his ears and between his fingers. At some point, Stiles stopped shaking and relaxed under his attentions. Not a single improper touch or look. Stiles wanted to hug him and thank him.

When he finished, Peter turned off the tap and wrapped him in the fluffiest bath robe he had ever seen. They went out into the bedroom, and Peter started looking for clothes in the closets. Even though he didn't live there, there were more clothes than in Stiles' closet.

“Are you tired or hungry?” Peter asked him as he held up a pair of pants in the air to see if they would fit him.

“No, I'm fine, I don't have... Oh, god! I'll have to feed on blood! I'll have to kill!”

Before he could panic, Peter was already there, kneeling in front of him.

“Hey, hey, no killing. First of all, you can feed on the blood of animals. It won't be as satisfying and it won't help you get stronger, but it's possible. Besides, if you wanted to feed on human blood it wouldn't be a problem either. Nowadays it's not hard to have access to a blood bank.”

Stiles snorted a laugh and shook his head.

“Of course.” He couldn't help but smile. After all, Peter was a man of resources like few others. “Sorry about the shower.”

“It's okay, you have to learn to control your new abilities. Put this on,” he said, handing him the clothes. “I know you'll want to star researching right away, but I have to tell you that you should get some rest. Your body has yet to adjust to your new abilities.”

“I can rest with the computer on the bed,” he replied with a shrug.

Peter smiled and brought his new laptop.

“Think about whether you want to stay here or go back to Beacon Hills. Whatever you decide, I'll stay with you, but I think at first it'd be easier in our territory.”

“I'll have to drop out of college,” he realized suddenly. One more thing to add to the long list of misfortunes. “I was so close to finishing the master's degree.”

“You can always follow the classes online.”

Stiles shook his head and took the laptop out of the box. He needed to focus on something, he had to stop thinking about all the things that fell apart in his life.

“The problem is not the classes. In a couple of months, I'd have to start with the internship, and where am I going to do an internship at night? Anyway, what for? What night shift jobs I need my degree for? I'll end up at a gas station or a 24-hour store. I don't need a university degree for that, much less a master's degree.”

He had tried so hard, working to pay for his classes and studying every spare minute to be one of the best in the class. No parties, no friends, no social life, no coming home except in the summer. All that for nothing. Again.

Peter sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, letting Stiles lean against him.

“We'll find something. You could be a night class teacher. And if there isn't a school for that, I'll open one.”

Stiles snorted and buried his face in his neck. He knew that Peter wanted to tell him that he didn't have to work, that he had money to spare to support him, and Stiles was grateful that he didn't. Peter knew perfectly well how important it was for him to be self-sufficient.

“Thank you. For everything, Peter, thank you.”

“I'm here for whatever you need, sweetheart.” Peter tightened his arm around him and kissed his head.

He didn't remember Peter being so tactile, or so affectionate, or so close the last time they'd met, but it was probably the only thing keeping him from falling apart right now.

While Stiles was searching the internet and the bestiaries he had uploaded to the cloud for information on vampires, Peter went to collect some things from his apartment. Even if he did not return to Beacon Hills, he would no longer be able to live with his current roommates. Even if they didn't find it strange that he only left his room at night (something that was not entirely unusual among students), they would find the sudden change in his appearance strange.

He texted his father to call him as soon as he could and considered informing the others, but he wasn't ready for that yet. If it had only been the part of turning into a vampire, it would have been easier.

“You should find less naive roommates,” Peter commented when he returned with ALL of his things.

“Then I couldn't have done some of the things I've had to do,” he replied.

He opened the first bag looking for his hard drive. He made regular copies of his computer there just in case.

“When you put it that way.”

Peter took the hard drive out of the inside pocket of his jacket and offered it to him with a smile. Stiles rolled his eyes and returned with the hard drive to the bed. He hadn't moved from there even though there was a perfectly comfortable sofa in the living room.

“Did you tell Derek?” Stiles asked, trying to sound casual.

“No, I won't unless you ask me to. It's your decision to whom and when to tell.”

Stiles nodded tightly and remained focused on the computer. If it had been Scott, half Los Angeles and all of Beacon Hills would already know.

“Did you find anything useful?” Peter asked, sitting down next to him.

“I thought there was a lot of fake shit on the internet about werewolves, but vampires take the cake.” I was researching on the topic of sunlight, you know, to know if I'll turn to ash or glow like a gloworm. But there are so many possibilities, so many variations that not even something so basic is clear.”

Thanks to his studies, he had a better training to know how to distinguish between reliable sources and junk sources, but it didn't help in something like that. One might think that hunters with their vast knowledge could be a reliable source, but experience told him to doubt every word that appeared in their bestiaries and forums.

“I can assure you that you won't glow like a gloworm and, please, don't read that garbage full of toxic relationships again, it leaves us all in a very bad place.”

“I haven't read it! I've only seen memes on the internet,” he replied. Peter looked at him with an arched eyebrow, and Stiles lowered his head. “Okay, maybe I read the first one out of curiosity. Anyway, do you know anything about that? The sunlight thing, I mean.”

“I can't say for sure, but as far as I know, right now your skin would burn and then your muscles down to the bone. Over time, when you get stronger, you'll be more resistant. You may not be able to expose yourself to the midday light, but you may hold out longer during dawn and dusk.”

“Mm... That matches Anne Rice's type of vampires,” he mused, opening the folder named in precisely that way.

“I have good books at home on vampires, and I can get more, don't worry. I can also speak with some contacts. Vampires are quite closed about their nature, which is understandable, but if I explain your situation to them, some of them may decide to help us.”

Stiles squeezed his knee with one hand and smiled at him. It was a miracle that he could still smile.

TBC...

(The Trans Bingo Card btw)

#teen wolf #peter hale #stiles stilinski #steter #trans character #trans stiles #dysphoria #fanfic #fanfiction #detransition #trans bingo #full moon ficlet #vampire #english fanfic #trans #slash

9 notes · View notes

bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years ago

Text

Icy Is The Avatar Of High School; The Essay

I would like to begin this essay with a song. While reading this essay keep in mind that Icy has the exact same energy as this song which (imo) embodies prep & jock with a touch of nerd. No goth tho, press f in the chat.

Wow I put way too much into this. I hope y’all love it.

Okay so lets get into this! We will begin with the obvious one, goth:

*Gestures to all of the snow*

Edit: that was supposed to say show but snow works too.

Next we will talk about Jock.

So think of your typical jock. A stereotypical jock has a few qualities; reckless bravery and determination, large ego, usually at least kind of an asshole, doesn’t know when to quit, craves them gainz, and makes impulse decisions.

Icy is definitely a very brazen person. It takes balls (and a large ego) to get banned from your campus and then very boldly strut back onto said campus in the middle of dinner while the whole school is assembled. She looked at Lord Darkar, shadow phoenix of the underworld and was straight up like, “yeah, whatever dude.” Dude is such a jock word.

So onto determination! Okay look, we have like 7 whole seasons of her trying to take over the world. She was arrested, what? 5 times? She literally doesn’t know when to stop. Give up??? Who’s that???

I feel like the large ego thing also speaks for itself she is constantly talking about how she deserves to be Darkar & Valtor’s main witch. She is well aware that her plans are usually fantastic. She just exudes an I’m better than you energy. It’s in her posture, her gestures, her tone of voice. Icy is absolutely certain that she is the shit and in the 4kids version one of her demands to the professors was to stand before the student body and say, “Icy rules, Icy’s the greatest.” *Spoiler alert* she is. I promise that she is not holding me hostage.

Which brings me to the next point, getting dem gainz! Your average jock is at the gym, drinking protine shakes, and building muscle! While Icy is not in a gym trying to get 6 pack abs, she 100% chases them magical gainz! The dragon fire is just a really hot protine shake.

In the 4kids version, upon overrunning Cloud Tower, she addressed the student body by welcoming them to her pep assembly. Ya know who else likes pep assemblies? Football jocks.

Also that whole scene in episode nine (Spelled) where she rallies up the witches and they all chase Musa. That’s like the goth equivalent of getting the entire football team to chase after the nerd (or a member of the rivaling team).

And let’s not forget the ‘nerd run’ from season two where she rode this dinosaur thing and chased Timmy, the stereotypical nerd type. (It’s funny because she doesn’t know that she’s a nerd too).

Okay so now that we dug deep into jock, it is time to discuss Prep!

I tend to use prep & always wears pink, blonde, mean girl interchangeably. But wiki says; Characteristics of preps in the past include a particular subcultural speech, vocabulary, dress, mannerisms and etiquette, reflective of an upper-class upbringing. Both definitions hold up in my book.

So we’ll start with wiki’s. Icy (depending on whether or not we’re going with the season 8 retcon) is from an upper-class upbringing. Tbh she’s like Stella but a witch. Icy is Stella’s goth phase and that’s why Stella fears Icy because she knows that that’s what she could be. I feel like Icy also has the most preppy dress style of her sisters. Also pretty sure preps are known for being over-achieving perfectionists. Icy was actually pretty good with her academics.

As for the Regina Gorge type prep; Icy is totally your classic mean girl bully, but make it witchy. I really think that this speaks for itself. It sings for itself too in 4kids OST. One of the lyrics in the Mean Girls song is that they will steal your boyfriend and trash your makeup. If that doesn’t scream prep, Idk what does.

She reads them magazines. I don’t remember which one but I do remember her mentioning that there was a question posed in said magazine about ‘what would you do if you took over the world’ and apparently she wrote, ‘you’ll find out soon enough, loser’ and sent it in.

Loser, pixies, nerds, dweebs. Icy has a whole list of mean and petty insults to put in her burn book. Like bye girl.

Literally all of the Miss Magix contest. That is peak mean girl shit. The Trix literally went to a beauty pageant for the sole sake of making everyone look stupid and to trash on everyone’s fashion and makeup. On top of all of that she did that just because Lucy agreed to do their homework for ???? amount of time. Let’s be real, it was a life sentence.

Now, the moment you’ve been waiting for! Nerd!

Literally every time she calls anyone a nerd or a loser I wheeze because, girl, check yourself! Prior to getting kicked out (for being a dumb jock), it is heavily implied that Icy, Darcy, and Stormy were at the top of their classes. Like these three were Griffin’s best students. And I am inclined to believe that Icy was thee top student. This woman was an overachiever whether she wants to admit it or not.

Icy is the plan person. She’s the one who keeps the Trix on task. Though Darcy exudes ‘group mom’ energy, Icy is usually the one to snap at them to stay focused. She’s the organized one and the one who seems to do most of the scheming. That takes some deep thinking and brain power. She knows how to summon monitors, banish trolls into oblivion, astral project into virtual reality using voodoo dolls, summon nightmare monsters, and summon an army of rot. Like how does she know all of this? Studying. I almost said that I have no proof except in the Winx comics (this one) she is seen venturing to the library to research dark magic and spells. 90% she has done some extensive research and reading into all of these things because I highly doubt that Cloud Tower teaches things like summoning the army of decay. That was all down time research because this nerd enjoys learning about dark magic. Ya know who else enjoys reading and learning? Nerds. I know, I’m a nerd who loves reading and learning. Just because she likes learning about ~cool~ thinks like dark armies, doesn’t mean it’s not a nerdy quest to know everything about the subject she knows.

Speaking of which (lol get it, witch), Icy also knows about history. She was the one who told Bloom all about what happened to Sparks and all about the coven. Why? Because that knowledge is floating around in her brain and she chose to retain it. I have a feeling her knowledge of history goes beyond the coven and Sparks too because she also knew that the Ring Of Solaria had fragments of the dragon fire. She knows too much about this shit.

I think that her nerdiest moment though, had to be when she solved that riddle at Red Fountain to get the codex. Like you have to have brain power to solve a riddle with the added pressure of being surrounded by your foes on enemy territory. In general her nerdiness just bled through in that season because she was snatching those codexes left and right.

Also lets get into the fact that she (especially in the comics) has a tendency to humiliate herself, whoops. She managed to get her own (and Darcy & Stormy’s) memories erased, she got them trapped in an avalanche (and then dated a fellow nerd for two seconds and pretended like she didn’t hate it), and she is constantly pulling ‘we’ll be back’ speeches every time she gets defeated. Like seriously this is the evil equivalent of ‘lol I meant to do that’ or ‘haha, that didn’t happen, you didn’t see anything.’ And then she will make her next attempt as if she had never gotten defeated at all. Because losing is for losers and Icy ‘totally isn’t’ a loser.

And honestly what’s more nerdy then prattling off your entire evil plan? Like this is her trying to flex her intelligence.

Let’s not forget how she had her nerdy fangirl moment. She simped for Darko for like two or three whole comics. Like full on simping over here. If she could have bought a T-shirt with Darko’s face on it, she would have. Bonus, he was her childhood crush.

And finally, I am also very inclined to believe that Icy is the fake it until you make is sort. With her it’s all about presentation. The only thing that saves her from being an obvious nerd is confidence. I touched on this with the whole ‘you didn’t see anything’ bit. But legit, pretty much everything she does would be kinda nerdy if she didn’t make it look good.

Please feel free to add if you think that you have more examples of Icy being a nerd.

#Winx #Winx Club #Winx Icy #Shitpost #Winx Trix #The Trix #Winx Darcy #Winx Stormy

19 notes · View notes

ruthoakenshield · 4 years ago

Text

Very Good Friends (Chapter 8)

Catch up here: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

Reader x Henry Cavill, Reader x co-star named Dan

Warning: This tale is for 18+ readers ONLY!!! Mentions of flashbacks: (rape, anal sex, non-con sex, abuse), severe bruising and injury, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, humiliation, and some fluff to make us feel better. Smut comes later on in the story… Several chapters down the road… I promise!!!

If ANY of the warnings upset you or make you uncomfortable, DO NOT read below the cut! go find something else to read in this case.

If you are okay with reading those things then enjoy the tale below the cut.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. I do not own Henry nor do I have any personal knowledge of him besides what is common knowledge amongst the Cavillary. Any mistakes and typos are mine, story is not beta-tested. GIF I got from the tumbler search thingy.

Sunday morning arrives and it is cloudy and raining. Henry lays on the bed, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the trailer as you sleep, head still on his Pec. Arms wrapped around his broad chest and fingers holding his shirt. your body still wrapped in the comforter burrito. Neither of you shifted positions as you slept, and he still has his cheek resting against your head. The scent of peppermint still comforting his thoughts. He smiles realizing you seemed to sleep through the night with no nightmares this time. He hopes you finally got some much needed rest.

He thinks about the things the counselor said yesterday and he wonders if the self-defense class would help you like it did the other women. It certainly couldn’t hurt. He thought it might help you if he took the class as well. Then you both could spar together. He decided he’d talk to you about it when you woke up.

He wondered if you would like to try drawing or painting or creative writing to help you sort things out in your pretty little head of yours. He decided to ask you about it as well.

It was the beginning of August and it was chilly now in the mornings and evenings. He hadn’t turned on the furnace in the trailer yet. Though you were in your comforter burrito, he was for the most part uncovered and a little chilly. He made a mental note to have maintenance check the furnace and turn it on for him.

Henry hears his phone chirp, and he glances over to the nightstand where it sat. He reaches over and frowns when he sees it’s his publicist. He grabs his phone and unlocks it to see the message from his publicist: “Henry, FYI: Someone leaked what happened to the paparazzi, but are playing Dan as the victim. They’re having a heyday. Try to keep y/n off of social media and away from tv. Her publicist and I are teaming up with the studio’s trying to do damage control. Be careful who you talk with and share info with till we find out who the leaker is.” It read.

He quickly replies to her: “The only people we’ve talked to about any of this is the hospital staff, the police, the executive of the studio and the counselor besides my agent, you, y/n’s agent and her publicist, and my PA. I don’t know if y/n talked with her PA at all. What all is being said about y/n?” Henry asks.

She replies: “They’re saying she is falsely accusing him and that she forced him, and wanted it rough and that she was mad at him for rejecting her repeated attempts to get him to date her. She’s being labeled as a whore, who is trying to ruin his career.

Sounds to us like it’s his agent trying to set her up to take the blame so Dan can get off scott free since she is new to the business. They seem to think she can be used as the scapegoat.

There’s several of your castmates who have already posted to social media defending y/n and saying that Dan was the one harassing her and not taking no for an answer and that HE was the one wanting to date her and she refused him repeatedly. They also stated that she didn’t show up for his going away party and was the only one to do so. (Though they don’t know her reason for not showing up – no one has been told of her injuries yet except the studio heads, the director and the producers.)

The studio is trying to figure out if they can salvage the film now or if they are going to have to scrap it now that Dan’s fucked it up with this PR stunt. There’s talk of going after him for damages if the film flops or if they have to scrap it or delay it and have his role recast and refilm all his scenes.” His publicist texts him.

Henry groans, making you stir. He caresses your head, and you fall back asleep. Henry rubs his face, his brows knitted, and his forehead creased with worry.

“Ugh!!! Ok. What do you want me to do? She’s staying in my trailer and is REALLY struggling to come to terms with all this. She’s been having nightmares and last night was the first night she didn’t have them and slept soundly (on my chest).” Henry messages back.

“I’ll ask the director. I think we need to let the cast see y/n and talk to her; or show them the photos of the injures she sustained and explain to them their extent, so they know just how badly she’s been hurt. I have the photos from the PD in case we needed to have evidence shared of her injuries. I’ve edited them so her face isn’t showing, and her privates are covered. The arm, thigh and torso bruising and the obvious hand bruises on her neck should be sufficient to convince them.

Everyone was wondering why her trailer was being searched by the PD and why it was removed, then Dan pulls this PR stunt and eveyone’s asking me and her PR what’s going on. All we told them was that Dan attacked y/n and raped her the night before the party. But they don’t know how badly she was hurt.

The doctor I spoke with who treated her said she had serious lesions both in her ass and her vagina and throat from what Dan did to her, and that they had bled heavily from the sex. He suspected that Dan had some kind of ribbed sleeve or harness with stiff ribs or nubs on it that was scraping her as he had his way with her that caused the lesions. He said they are meant to be used with lube and there was no lube in her at all in neither of her holes nor her throat. He said it would’ve been incredibly painful and exposed her to a high risk for infection and STD’s if he had any.

The police found an empty box of condoms in her bedroom garbage. It contained 36 originally, when they searched the bedroom garbage and the bathroom one, they came up with all 36 of them and most of them had her blood and his semen in/on them. They also found dildos in varying sizes, some insanely bizarre, in Dan’s possession with her DNA on them buy only his hand / finger prints when they arrested him at his trailer. Judging by the security cameras’ he was in her trailer almost 12 hours.” She informs Henry.

He lays there in shock, he rubs his face and looks down at you. His face red with anger realizing you most likely endured at least 7 hours of this kind of torture. He cups your head with his hand and kisses your forehead. Wishing he had only known Dan’s intent and could’ve stopped it.

“Oh God! She said they watched one movie and she had put in the second one. Then she doesn’t remember what happened after that other than waking up twice to Dan fucking her. So, he was there at least two hours before he began to assault her sexually! God only knows how long it lasted and if he slept at all or raped her the entire time!” Henry replies. “I can’t imagine what she went through! No wonder she is emotionally shutting down and trying to just retreat inward! No wonder why she’s hurting physically SO bad!” he adds.

Henry caresses your head and back, he sighs. Not sure what to do now or how to help you. He just wants to cry knowing now, what you most likely endured. It was worse than anyone could’ve imagined. He hopes the cops throw the book at his idiot co-star. It just makes him sick what Dan did.

He snaps a photo of you asleep on his chest with his hand on your back, keeping his face out of the photo. Posting it to his Instagram page, he writes. “I am thinking of and praying for this wonderful, talented, incredibly kind, patient and amazing woman. You’ve endured more horrors than I could possibly imagine! I’m glad to know you and my support, thoughts and prayers are with you, Kitten, during this rough patch. You’ll get through it and shine all the brighter in the end. Keep your chin up our brave sweetheart, rest when you can, and don’t give up! We got your back!”

He sighs again and locks his screen. Setting it face down, he looks down at you and shakes his head in both amazement of what all you’ve endured, and sadness because he was not there to protect you and stop it. His heart aches for you. He closes his eyes and just holds you trying to be as supportive as he can.

About an hour later, he gets a group text from the director, producers and executive of the studio. “Please come to a meeting at the studio office today at 2pm to discuss current events and future plans for the film. Henry, bring y/n with you.”

Henry visibly cringes at the message. It either means they’re scrapping it, or they’re going forward and have some serious plans hoping to make this film work.

Henry carefully turns the two of you onto your sides, with you against the pillows you had propped there behind you when you climbed in next to him. He gently peels your arms off his shirt and he carefully slips himself out from beside you, propping you with more pillows to keep you hopefully asleep and comfortable for a while yet. He suspects his phone is going to blow up now and doesn’t want to disturb you.

Henry turns the ringer off, so it just vibrates and keeps it in his pants pocket as he gets up and heads for the bathroom. He does his thing and gets freshened up and goes into his room and changes clothes. About a half hour later, he starts getting messages from the other costars asking what’s going on. He sighs and does a conference call with them all while he is in the guest bathroom on the opposite end of the trailer, trimming his beard stubble, so you weren’t bothered.

He tells them he can’t say much about what’s going on until the meeting. He explains you’re staying with him in his trailer because it is where you currently feel safe and protected, and that you are really struggling with what happened to you. He asks them to please be supportive of you and to respect your need to just cope.

They ask if what Dan is claiming is true and Henry tells them no, it is quite the opposite. “Just be careful who you talk to about this. There’s a leaker somewhere and we haven’t been able to find out who it is. When we get to the meeting you all will be filled in with exactly what happened and how bad it really is. Until then, don’t comment to anyone about any of this.”

They ask if he has any idea if the film will continue or be scrapped. “I have no idea. My agent said they were trying to figure out what to do, there was talk of scrapping it if there’s no way to save it, depending on the public outcry; they talked about replacing Dan with a different actor and re-filming all the scenes he was in, and there was talk of going after Dan for damages depending on what is decided. I have no idea what option they chose or if they came up with other options. “It’s a PR nightmare thanks to Dan deciding to be an asshole.” Henry tells them.

“How is y/n doing, Henry? I mean really.” One co-star asks. Henry sighs, “She’s struggling big time. I am too. She is hurting immensely, both physically and emotionally. She’s been having nightmares and struggling to get restful sleep because of what Dan did to her. It just makes me sick to know what he did and be powerless to really help besides holding her and letting her cry and trying to be supportive and encouraging. You’ll understand when you see her. I hope they throw the book at Dan for what he did. He’s a monster as far as I’m concerned. No woman should have to go through what he did to her!” Henry growls, trying to keep quiet and not wake you up.

They are all quiet. “Henry, would you mind if we left her some encouragement outside your trailer? We don’t want to disturb her or anything, just want to let her know we’re thinking about her and support her in this and that we’re here for her. Whatever she needs.” They ask.

“That’s fine, guys. I’m sure she’ll appreciate any support we can give her. This isn’t going to be a fast recovery by any means.” He tells them.

“She’s such a great gal, Hen, I’m so sorry to hear Dan hurt her so badly. She was such a little ray of sunshine on set, always smiling and bubbly.” One costar comments. There’s murmuring of agreement amongst the co-stars. “Yeah, we all saw how Dan would treat her on set. I regret not reporting him now.” another costar says. Others murmur similar regret. “Well if you hear noise outside the trailer, don’t be alarmed, it’s just us. Okay, Hen?” they tell him. “Okay guys. We’ll see you around 2pm.” He tells them and hangs up.

More chapters to come...

Please reblog and share if you like this story so far! Please and thank you!!!

Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from this taglist:

Tagging the cavillary & crew: @dancingwendigo @littlefreya @iloveyouyen @achaoticaugust @thatdem0n @cherry-acid @connieisland @kandomeresbitch @captainbigdy @mary-ann84 @chamomilebottom @thelastsock @infinite-shite @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @when-in-doubt-eat-pizza @kissthatlifeaway @madbaddic7ed @beckster07890 @sage-willow-raven @allememaggies @aletheladyinred @princess-of-riviaa @amandalove @heyyassbutt @nerdypinupcrystal @wondersofdreaming @taylorinthetardis @kmuir1 @henrythickcavill @cavillsbestgal @hinata7346 @indigosaurus @purplelove75 @eldarwen333 @rangergirl71 @luclittlepond @rowandor @contentobsessor @henrycavilledits@capsheadquaters @criminaly-supernatural @henricavyll @henrycavell

43 notes · View notes