#when i called him to explain my absence during his hospital stay and told him about the ptsd and that im doing bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babyboibucky · 4 years ago

Text

Obvious

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are more than friends but less than lovers.

Word Count: 1,700

Warnings: slight angst??? mention of injury???

A/N: Inspired by Ariana Grande’s “obvious” because I fucking love that song lmfao. Let me know if anyone wants to be included in my Bucky Barnes tag list! Will do separate tag lists for everything Bucky and Babysitting Bucky. Feedback is highly appreciated!

MAIN MASTERLIST

---

You and Bucky weren’t lovers, no. But you were definitely not just friends either.

There were kisses early in the morning, while both of you were cuddled in bed basking in the warmth of the sunlight spilling through the thin curtains; soft and subtle touches in the afternoon as the two of you navigated through the kitchen in an attempt to bake together. Slow touches late at night, cold metal fingers grazing you in just the right places that made you feel like on fire. And the exchange of whispers in the wee hours of night after coming down from the high of exploring each other’s bodies, uttered so softly, words meant only for each other to hear.

More than friends indeed, less than lovers? Maybe. Maybe not. Does it matter though? Because even without the words of affirmation, you loved Bucky and was sure that he loved you just as much.

Besides, you were obviously head over heels for the soldier. Not that you were denying or hiding it, in fact, you felt like you showed it a tad bit too much.

“Leaving so soon, soldier?” You’d asked with a pout as you watched Bucky leave your side on the bed.

“Duty calls.” He told you as he began to dress up.

Noticing your frown, he chuckled and approached you on the bed, bending down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassured you, smoothening out the crease on your forehead with his thumb.

“But I wanna cook you dinner.” You told him.

The thought of you and Bucky spending a domesticated evening together always elated you. You loved daydreaming about it, about sharing a life with your super soldier. Him coming home after a mission and you making sure to take good care of him. Maybe run him a bath while you prepared dinner. Silly, it seemed but you couldn’t help imagining all the possibilities with Bucky. Letting him sleep in on Sundays while you go on a jog, only to come back home with pancakes and bacons waiting for you in the kitchen. And Bucky of course, fresh out of bed with his hair sticking up in different directions.

Being with an Avenger of course, made it difficult to experience all these things. Sometimes you’d wake up alone but Bucky always made sure to leave you a little note.

I’ll be back soon, beautiful.

His notes found a home in one of your drawers. There were plenty and although these notes symbolized his absence on most days, they also meant promises. Promises to make it up for the lost time, promises that were never broken nor forgotten.

Dinner dates were often postponed, sleepovers a rare occurrence— spending time together in general, wasn’t as easy as it was for other couples out there.

But that’s okay. Because you’d always wait for Bucky. You’d wait for him to come home and even if it’d take him three days, one week, two months or even a year, you’d still wait and welcome him with hugs and kisses and affectionate whispers.

Sometimes you wondered whether Bucky knew how much you loved him.

Disagreements were of course, unavoidable even between you and Bucky. Oftentimes, the arguments would stem from his carelessness and selfless decisions during missions. Your super soldier, always so giving and generous and kind. You couldn’t care less about what others thought of him and his days under the influence of monsters. The moment you knew you loved Bucky, you had already accepted him. And that included his demons and dark days too.

To you, Bucky had always been kind and put others first before himself. Sometimes a little too much that you couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t seem to care how you’d feel if ever he wouldn’t make it home.

If Sam hadn’t called you that night, you wouldn’t have known about the serious injury inflicted on Bucky while on a mission.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked as soon as you barged into the medical bay, ignoring the nurse who immediately scrambled out of the room.

Bucky laid in bed, bruised and wrecked and unable to respond upon seeing you seething with anger for the first time ever.

“Were you even planning to tell me in the first place?” You scoffed.

They needed to infiltrate another Hydra base. Raid the base, get all possible information and blow it up to ashes. But then Bucky found a secret basement at the very last minute, young women and men were kept— future Winter Soldiers. The serum hadn’t been injected into their systems yet, they were merely poor teenagers in captivity. Bucky knew he couldn’t let these young people suffer the same fate as him. With barely a minute left before the bomb was set to explode, Bucky did his best to save everyone in that basement.

Never mind the Falcon’s orders to abort his mission, never mind the back-up they had called for to help them out. Bucky knew the choices he had: walk away unscathed knowing that the back-up wouldn’t arrive in time to save the children, or stay behind and do his best to make sure that no one will become another toy for Hydra to play with.

Even if it meant risking his life, even if it meant leaving you back home unaware of his fate.

“They needed me. I couldn’t just leave them behind.” Bucky explained.

“And you didn’t think I needed you too?” You asked, eyes rimmed with tears.

God, you knew you were selfish for feeling hurt but you couldn’t help it. Did it not cross Bucky’s mind that if he had died, you’d be left behind too? Did you not cross his mind during that time?

“Look, I understand what the superhero life is all about. And I know that it’s fucking selfish of me to say this but...Bucky, I need you too. As much as the world does.”

It was a conversation that you and Bucky had many times now. But with how your love grew for him with each passing second, the thought of losing him, it had become too much for you to suppress.

Waking up without his little notes of reassurance that he’d be back soon, no more cold fingers tracing against the smooth expanse of your skin and having to sleep knowing that the next day, Bucky wouldn’t be there anymore— just the mere thought of losing him broke your heart.

“I can’t...” you breathed out, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Buck.” You admitted with a shaky sigh as your tears continued to fall.

Bucky wanted to get up and pull you to an embrace, but he was too injured to do so. How we wanted to kiss your tears away, all he could do was extend a hand towards you, inviting you to come closer and touch him.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I should have told you, I’m sorry. C’mere.”

Despite your anger, you didn’t think twice and immediately went to hold Bucky’s hand, squeezing it tightly as if you were trying to make sure that he was fine and real and that you didn’t lose him.

“Please stop being so reckless. With how much I love you, it drives me crazy whenever you come home all wounded and bloody and now—“

“You love me?”

Bucky had asked the question as if he couldn’t believe that yes, you do love him. Sam really wasn’t kidding when he said how dense Bucky was.

“Is it not obvious?” You asked, wiping away your tears.

“I mean yeah but...I just didn’t want to assume that you do because we never really talked about it.” He explained, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

His metal fingers, although cold and hard against your skin, had always been your favorite. They were gentle when they needed to be, or at least whenever Bucky touched you. They were cold and made you shiver but always in a good way.

“Bucky, I’ve talked about wanting a future with you. You still didn’t think that that was love?” There was a hint of playfulness in your tone despite your deadpan expression.

Oh no, what if you interpreted everything the wrong way?

“Do you not...oh my god, Bucky am I the only one in love?” You asked, panicked.

“Oh god, no.” Bucky immediately clarified as he pulled you to sit down on the bed beside him.

“I love you. So much. Please don’t think otherwise.” He said, cupping your face and wiping away the remnants of your tears.

A smile followed by a quick peck on the lips. Bucky moved and gave you enough space to lay down beside him on the hospital bed. Suddenly, everything felt right. Not that it wasn’t before but with the both of you finally uttering those words, it felt different.

The perfect kind of different.

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest and listened to his heartbeat as his hand rubbed comforting circles on your back. You can’t imagine a life without being this close to him, your super soldier.

“I thought of you, you know.” His chest rumbled as he spoke.

You lifted your head up to look at him in confusion. He smiled at you lovingly, “During the mission. Every mission I go to actually, I thought of you.”

Bucky thought about how you always waited for his return no matter how long he took. He imagined what you’d be doing when he’d come back, would you still be asleep? Perhaps you’d be in the shower, singing. Bucky thought about how he’d kiss you as soon as he comes home, how he’d make you feel how much he missed you and your scent, how your smooth skin felt against his.

Every single time, Bucky thought about coming home to you. It was his motivation to stay alive no matter what. He knew you needed him as much as the world does.

Because he needed you just the same.

More than friends, indeed. Less than lovers? No, you and Bucky were more than that.

You were each other’s worlds.

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

1K notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger. (Loki x Fem!Reader) — one shot

Welcome to my first ever Loki one shot! I blame tiktok for this one, and full credit for this idea goes to @/irislaufeyson on there (or she’s the first one I saw do this). I listened to “Still Don’t Know My Name” by Labrinth while writing! (It’s also used in the tiktoks so that’s why lol)

Summary: You loved Loki. But you needed to forget him. (aka Thor knows a special trick used only on Asgard where saying “Stranger” to someone erases all memories of them from your mind.)

Warnings: This is straight up angst. No happy ending. So sorry. (Also a warning for this having no set place in any timeline lol I wasn’t focused on that so just run with it)

When you first met Loki, you were annoyed. You hated him. You hated his smirk, his eyes, his teeth when he smiled, his tongue when it swiped over his bottom lip, and worst of all — you hated the reactions he got out of you.

You were well aware that’s all he wanted. A reaction. And despite your better efforts, your body gave it to him.

Eventually, you grew used to him. You had no choice. With him at the Tower being an “honorary” Avenger of sorts, you were stuck with him.

It started slow. The snide remarks, your rolling eyes, your grin when you’d effectively bring a god to his knees in hand-on-hand combat.

But then it went fast. The snide remarks turned flirty. You no longer rolled your eyes, but instead gave him looks. When you’d put him on the ground during training, you’d straddle his hips, and he’d sometimes flip you over, pinning your wrists at the side of your head.

Everyone would yell at you to get a room — well, Natasha would. Steve, Bucky, Sam, basically everyone else disapproved, including Thor. But Tony disapproved the most.

“I like him, okay?!” You screamed at Tony one night.

You had lost it. You reached a breaking point. Tony had been on your ass, making it known that he hated the way you and Loki looked at each other, flirted with one another. He had even gone as far to say that your and Loki’s “situation” was endangering productivity.

You could’ve smacked him. But if it weren’t for him, you’d be dead in a ditch somewhere. So you kept your head, and tried to explain your feelings to him.

“I still don’t like it,” Tony said after you finished. “He’s not safe.”

“He’s never once put my life in danger,” you argued.

“Not yet.”

“You don’t know that he will,” you continued. “I trust him.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Tony shrugged.

“Not everyone has chronic trust issues, Tony,” you snapped. “I don’t need a lecture from you of all damn people about trust.”

Tony let you leave after that. He never apologized to you for how he insulted you. And you never apologized to him, either.

You don’t remember when you started sleeping in Loki’s bed. All you know is that you got used to it quickly. Three nights in, you tried sleeping in your room, and wake up in his. And when you asked him how you got there, he simply smiled.

“You’re a sleepwalker, I’m afraid,” Loki murmured, lips ghosting over your eyebrow. “You climbed in next to me without a word.”

“I’m sorry,” you groaned, hiding your face in your arm.

“No need to be sorry, my love,” Loki whispered, turning your head so you’d stop hiding. “I am only glad that even in your sleep, you find me.”

You kissed him hard, then. Hands running through his hair, tugging, swallowing his moans while he swallowed yours. His hands found their way under your shirt, and would’ve gone further if it weren’t for the loud alarm that began to blare.

“Tony,” you grumbled. “I hate him.”

“Me too,” Loki agreed breathily. “We’ll finish this later, hm?”

You did.

It was a quiet shift, but eventually you began staying in Loki’s room completely. You moved a few of your things every night, started putting your clothes in his closet next to his, you even brought your favorite blanket with you one night — and that’s when you knew what you were feeling was serious.

Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Loki always told you he’d give you the world. The universe. All of it.

You never imagined he’d try.

“I’m doing this for you, love, don’t you see?” He had cried, voice broken.

“I don’t want you to do this,” you replied, tears welling in your eyes, and Loki didn’t know what to do then. He never wanted to cause you pain. “Stop this, Loki, please.”

But he was too far gone. “You’ll see. Once it’s done, you’ll see, my love. You’ll see.”

Tony got you out of there before Loki could do anything. You still don’t think he would have. But everyone else thought otherwise.

“You need to end this,” Tony said once he got you to safety.

You shook your head. “He’ll come around. I just need more time.”

“We don’t have time! People are going to die if we don’t do something!”

“Just give me some time!” You yelled back.

“No,” Tony said firmly. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You fought it hard. You tried to reason with Loki, but all of it was to no avail. People died.

Millions died.

The guilt weighed heavy on your heart. You didn’t even say goodbye before Thor took Loki home, back to Asgard, where he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

It was months before you reached out to Thor, asking if you could speak to Loki. To say goodbye. To ask why. To check on him. To tell him you still love him, even though you shouldn’t.

You only told Thor it was to say goodbye. So he agreed.

And when he saw the state you were in, he offered a solution.

You told him if you could just forget, you’d feel better. The guilt was eating you alive. You were nearly hospitalized twice.

So, when Thor told you he knew how he could help you forget, you agreed without hesitation.

You loved Loki greatly. But you couldn’t keep going on like this.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Thor said.

You merely scoffed. A noise somewhere between a broken laugh and a sob.

Loki’s cell looked nicer than you expected, you’ll admit. And he was reading. Doing at least one thing that made him happy.

Your heart broke when you saw it was a copy of your favorite novel, knowing what you’re about to do.

“Brother,” Thor said. “You have a visitor.”

Loki laughed. “Go away.”

Slowly, you lowered the hood from your head. “Loki.”

Your voice. It stunned him to breathlessness, and he nearly dropped the book. He scrambled to his feet, right to the edge of his cell in a matter of minutes. “My love.”

Your heart broke. “How are you?”

“Better now that I see your face,” he smiled. “Have you come to get me out of here?”

You shook your head sadly. “I can’t do that.”

His face fell, only a fraction. “Still, I’m glad you came. I’ve missed you. How have you been in my absence?”

Sleepless. Restless. Depressed. Guilt-ridden. “I’ve been okay.”

Loki had always been good at reading your face. “What’s wrong?”

Tears welled in your eyes. “I love you.”

“My love,” Loki whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“I love you,” you repeated. “I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do, but I have to. You understand that, right?”

“Y/N—”

“Just tell me you understand,” you interrupted. “Please.”

“Okay,” Loki replied, but what you didn’t know is that he was trying to read your mind. Trying to figure out what was plaguing you, and when he saw, his eyes widened. “Y/N, don’t—”

“Stranger,” you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut once the last syllable left your lips.

When you opened them again, your eyebrows furrowed. What am I doing down here?

“Please,” Loki whispered. “My love.”

You looked around, wondering who he could be speaking to. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You must have me mistaken with someone else.”

Before Loki can say anything else, Thor calls out your name, catching your attention. “It’s time to go home.”

Right, it was all coming back now. You came to visit Thor and he asked if you’d like to walk with him as he did a routine check-in.

You gave Thor a look. “Not even going to let me stay one night? I’m hurt.”

Thor grinned, glad you didn’t lose your wit, but also glad to see a genuine smile on your face again. “Next time.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, glancing one last time over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

“No one important,” Thor replied quickly. “Thank you for accompanying me down here to check on things.”

You punched his arm with a laugh. “Always, you scaredy cat.”

Loki watched with tears streaking his face as you left, memories erased.

You might’ve forgotten him, but he’ll never forget you.

And if he ever gets out of this damn cell, he’ll make you remember.

166 notes · View notes

alltooreid · 4 years ago

Note

congrats on 100<33

✏️ - idk if this is a good enough concept but something along the lines of reader being scared of something (can be a thunder storm or haunted house or anything u want lol) and spencer comforts reader

(reader can be fem. (she/her) or gn (they/them), it doesn’t matter to me)

i hope this made sense, i didn’t wna go to into detail that way u could work freely with it lolll 💓

omg this makes perfect sense and it’s such a cute idea!! I went a little overboard and this got really long because I added a little meet-cute situation but I hope you love it anyway!! Also I changed Y/N’s fear because I had a really good idea and you were so open!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Type: comfort so like angst/fluff idk??

Word Count: 1.4K (oops)

Content Warnings: discussion of blood

When Y/N was five years old they told their mom they wanted to be a doctor. However, when one is five years old they assume being a doctor only entails helping people, being nice to children and giving them lollipops and that seemed like the best career choice ever.

However, when Y/N was six years old they went on a bike ride with their next door neighbor, a girl their age named Rebecca. This particular neighborhood friend loved to play dangerously and had conceived a game like tag, however you had to stay on the bike the entire time. Although innocent on paper, about 12 minutes into the game Rebecca had stood up on the seat of her bicycle in an attempt to get a better reach at Y/N and tumbled over the front handlebars.

She shook it off quickly and by the time Y/N had rushed over to help she was already on her feet.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked in a panic.

Rebecca brushed some rocks off her shorts, looked up at Y/N and smiled, “Yep! That was so much fun!” she said, going in for a high five.

Rebecca however, was not okay and had failed to notice that two of the “rocks” she had brushed off were actually her two front teeth. When she smiled and spoke to Y/N they were overcome with panic when they saw her mouth, missing two teeth and gushing blood.

So naturally, they immediately passed out.

Rebecca quickly ran to get her mother, more concerned for Y/N than herself, and still hadn’t even noticed her teeth’s absence. Both children were driven to the hospital, and although Y/N woke up on the way, they got checked out to make sure they didn’t have a concussion.

Soon after they were clear Y/N’s parents arrived. Hovering over their six year old and asking all sorts of questions, the first and only thing Y/N thought to do is turn to their mother. “Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I don’t think I wanna be a doctor anymore.”

Y/N’s mother laughed and wrapped her arms around the crying child, “Maybe that’s not the best idea.”

Even with their fear of blood, Y/N career ambitions remained the same: help people, be nice to children, hand out lollipops. So when they graduated Y/N started their own candy store. It was the perfect job for such a sweet soul, and by the time they were 28 Y/N had perfected their storefront. Glass displays were replaced with plastic to prevent people cutting themselves if they broke, they keep a small collection of different patterned and themed band-aids right next to the cash register and without fail had at least one medical student working in the summer in between school years (in case of emergencies).

But no amount of prepping could help Y/N when Dr. Spencer Reid came into their store with his four year old godson.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched Spencer and Henry zoom around the empty store, Henry throwing all kinds of sugary sweets into his basket and Spencer encouraging the entire thing. Soon enough the two were at the register and dumping at least eighty dollars worth of candy on the counter. Y/N began ringing it up, but was soon interrupted by the small child, barely in sight because of the desk in front of him.

“Excuse me? Do you have a band-aid? I got a paper cut.”

“Yes I do! What kind of band-aid do you want?”

“Ummmm do you have Spiderman?”

“Of course I have Spiderman! Here you go,” they said, setting it on the counter.

“Can you put it on for me?” He reached up his little finger to show Y/N his cut.

Quickly jolting their head, Y/N panicked “Um maybe you could have your dad help you with that. . .”

“Of course, I’m sorry, and I’m actually his godfather. . . “ He looked up and noticed Y/N’s aversion to the cut, “It’s safe to look now.”

Y/N sighed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t stand blood. What did he cut it on?”

Henry was entertaining himself flipping through the pages of his godfather’s abnormally large book, not reading it of course, because although Henry was smart for a four year old, he was not yet fluent in Russian.

“Oh nothing that’s your fault,” the man said. He was then nudged by his godson, and apparently, personal wingman, “Um, I’m Spencer!”

“Hi Spencer! I’m Y/N,” they smiled, finishing their calculations, “Um, your total is $81.92”

He was thrown off, “That’s not right, it should be 96.37. . . Did you forget something?”

“Actually your forgetting my 15% injury discount, and the extra lollipop I give to nice kids,” they reached down to hand Henry a raspberry lemonade lollipop.

“You really don’t have to do that! It was my fault really-”

“No seriously, trust me I’m kind of ripping you off here. I combined the injury discount and the cute guy discount.”

Spencer blushed, “Um well maybe we could go get coffee sometime to make it up to me.”

“I would love that”

On this coffee date Y/N learned about Spencer’s job and was shocked he would go on a date with someone who was scared of papercuts. However Spencer explained he found it admirable that someone could be so affected by other people’s pain, and later into their relationship discussed how he wished he was as affected by the gore of his job as he was during the beginning.

Their romance worked perfectly, Spencer loved having someone waiting at home for him, a person who could be completely separate from work and the cases that affected him so much that he needed to talk about them typically ended up involving more manipulation than gore.

But just over a year in Y/N got a phone call from Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer had been shot in the neck.

They got to the hospital as soon as possible, and rushed to Spencer’s room, completely forgetting about the things they were almost certainly going to see.

So when Y/N walked in at the worst possible moment, as Spencer was getting his gauze changed and his open wound was in full view, they freaked out, letting out a quick scream and crouching to the ground, covering their eyes with their hands.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N did their best and eventually had made their way to Spencer’s bedside chairs, only having to peek twice. Once there, Y/N’s hands remained firmly locked over their eyes, both to protect themselves from the blood and to cover their panicked tears from Spencer.

“Y/N, close your eyes tight and remove your hands for me darling.”

They shook their head aggressively. Spencer sighed, “Trust me, I’ve got you.” So they did, and as they kept their eyes glued shut, Y/N felt Spencer use his thumb to wipe tears from their cheeks, before tying something around their eyes.

“See, now you can’t see the blood, and I can hold you,” he said, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands and kissing the back of it now that gauze had been tied around their eyes.

Quickly Y/N wrapped their arms around Spencer’s middle as best as they could with him laying down, and cried into him. Spencer soothed them by petting their hair, “It’s okay darling, they just changed the gauze so it’s gone now, there’s no more blood if you feel ready to take it off.”

Y/N sobbed more and ripped their makeshift blind fold off, “I’m so stupid. . . You got shot and you have to comfort me because of a little blood . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that, you are not stupid. You’re scared and overwhelmed. I already knew I was okay but you didn’t when you came in there, not only that but as soon as you came into this extremely stressful situation you were greeted with your worst fear. You’re all I’m worried about right now.”

Y/N smiled “I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well luckily you don’t have to worry about it.”

-Thank you for reading!! please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

Holly’s tiny taglist!!: @hercleverboy @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyouleap-of-faith

(let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

164 notes · View notes

deathvalleyusa · 4 years ago

Text

day’s eye

Summary: In the eyes of a child named Daisy, Alfie Solomons is a thing of adventure books and mythical tales. As she grows he seems to morph to even more mythical proportions. That is, until Margate shows Daisy just how mortal and human Alfie is. ONE SHOT.

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Child OFC, OFC

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, S5 spoilers

A/N: Wrote this a while ago but only recently picked it up again. I had plans to write a fic about Nora (Daisy’s mom) and Alfie but this ended up happening instead lol. x-posted from AO3.

When one grows up without a father, people assume a terrible fate befell him. The War. An accident. Perhaps he had found himself in trouble with one of the many gangs that ran the streets of every city on British soil. His absence could be explained away.

When one grows up without a mother, death is often called upon as the excuse as well. Childbirth. Influenza. Beatings no one saved her from.

But in certain cases, the father is simply gone and the mother still lives and breathes. Daisy was one such case.

Her mother, a lovely woman named Nora, had dreams. Visions of a house, a garden, and a job to keep her steady. Daisy was a part of the vision, but not a part of the journey thus far. So at her grandparents cottage she stayed. Six years old, knowing her mum was somewhere else, trying her hardest.

The day Nora came for Daisy was one of excitement. Tears. Good-byes from her Papa and Gran, hugs that melted into her skin. A buzzing ecstatic feeling as they boarded the train, heading to a place called London.

"It's all new there for us, Daisy," Nora had said. Pretty in her makeup and burgundy cloche hat. "A life for us, eh? Me and my girl?"

Daisy was not expecting to meet a man that week.

At six, she'd met her fair share of men from her grandparents' village. Her mum had never brought around anyone other than her uncle Harry. So this man was something new entirely.

Daisy had thought he maybe had been a bear before he was a man. Towering and scruffily bearded, he was an odd one.

"This is little Daisy, then?" He had asked. Voice low, accent unlike the Liverpool one she had lived with all her life. He spoke with a curiosity and a kindness, deep blue eyes twinkling.

"That's her," Nora answered, beaming. "Daisy, this is my lovely friend Alfie."

He offered a hand. Daisy stared, then gave a glance to her mum. A supportive nod, and her tiny hand met his.

It was not unlike her grandfather's, or Uncle Harry's. Worn and slightly rough on the pads, work showed it's time through calluses and small light scars. It was warm though, gentle as he shook hers before enveloping it in another large hand. Daisy couldn't help but admire his rings and the small crown tattooed into his skin.

Like a man from the pictures, she thought to herself, giving a pleased smile. Like a pirate. Or a king.

One thing Daisy learned, as she spent more time with her mother and Alfie, was how much he spoke and how rapt her mother's attention was to his words. He spun stories, rambled about the folk about town. Posed hypotheticals at Nora who would answer after a long pause. Alfie would always include Daisy, posing the same questions or asking about life in a quiet village.

Years passed. Daisy, in her infinite child wisdom, came to understand some of the nature of Alfie besides his sweetness. That he was just as she had suspected, a pirate and a king. He terrified others, kept the men in the bakery in reverence of him.

She came to understand her mother as well. A woman with muted glamor, someone with quiet dreams that slowly seemed to materialize. She was not the princesses or damsels in the films or books Daisy consumed. No, she was something of a beautiful warrior.

Daisy thought of herself as an adventurer. No one feared a child of her age, and she had no one who needed her protection quite yet. Instead, she was a wily spirit, content with exploration during the day and a cozy home with her mother, and quite often Alfie, at night.

It came as no surprise at the age of nine when Alfie sat her down and explained he had asked her mother to marry him. Truly, it felt like a long put off event, and Daisy had just wanted it over and done with.

Alfie's laugh filled the sitting room when she told him.

"It's not always that simple, Daisy Bell," he said. "But I'm pleased, your mum expected you to take the news hard. Not sure why, but you are full of surprises, yeah?"

And so, on one afternoon that had gifted pockets of sun, Daisy watched as Alfie made her mother his pirate queen. Daisy, in turn, became a pirate as well. And with her new place as the daughter of a pirate and a king came new lodgings.

Not a ship, but a house with many rooms. A place for her toys and baubles, and a new wardrobe to hang the pretty things her mother liked to dress her in. Daisy quite liked to sneak into Alfie's study, staring at the little collections that lined shelves. On the occasions she snuck in while he sat at his desk, he'd call her over with a wave of his big hand. A sweet would appear, followed by a kiss to the head.

"Don't tell your mum," he'd whisper in gruff tones, "or she'll 'ave both of our heads for spoiling your dinner."

It was those moments she liked best, when the two of them would hold a small secret. Daisy knew Alfie and her mother had their own secrets, whispered under their breaths as if Daisy would pay it no mind. Talk of bread, of a man named Shelby. Nothing that ever reached her in her fortress.

And in that fortress protected by men led by Alfie, who as Daisy neared eleven, seemed more pirate than king, she thrived. Played with the other children, took pockets of Yiddish they taught her home to practice with her mother. Spent hours feeding treats to Cyril behind her parents’ backs. Tormented Alfie's men with silly games and questions they usually had no answer to. Ollie was her favorite. He had taught her to play cribbage in the moments where his time wasn't completely occupied with Alfie's commands.

There were long stretches where Alfie did not return home, only giving a phone call to calm Nora's nerves. Her mother would get whispered conversations; Daisy was given sweet words and a gentle good night or morning. Daisy contented herself with this, until one day Alfie did not return.

************

"He's gone to Margate," Nora explained, rubbing at her tired eyes. They seemed to grow more tired with each passing year. "I haven't heard from him yet, Daisy. Perhaps tomorrow we'll get a ring."

The call did not come. Daisy thought of terrible fates that befell kings and pirates. How easily it could happen to a man whose business kept him in hushed conversations. How her pa, dear Alfie, could be struck down in crossfire with the polished guns he kept locked in his study.

When a letter came, and with it a terrible wail from the beautiful mouth of her mother, Daisy knew she was right. Wished it not to be so; that there had been a terrible mistake and the news written was wrong. But sneaking a look at the letter when her mother had finally let it out of her grasp, Daisy found her worst thoughts had not been bad enough.

Alfie's wonderful handwriting lay before her. Asking forgiveness of Nora, then of her. A betrayal to the Shelby man detailed Alfie's demise. A desire to end a painful, cancerous existence that he had never spoke of to Daisy.

Another letter detailed his condition. Alive, but for how long would be up to him. Where he could be found in the winding streets of Margate.

With no noise, she returned the letter to it's envelope. Daisy took care to walk quietly, letting herself hang at the entry of her mother's room. For the first time in many years, she crawled beside her in the vast bed, letting a desperate hug melt into her skin.

On the eve of her twelfth birthday, the house with many rooms lay barren. Everything had been packed and sent to Margate, which Nora explained would become their new home. Daisy had seen her mother hold back tears as they locked the doors for a final time. Her house and her garden that had materialized out of her dreams since Daisy was very small was no more.

Camden Town had too much risk lying to the north to bring Alfie back even in secret. He was no longer a king, but a ghost of one. They were to follow the ghost, live in a haunted home by the sea.

In that haunted home, Daisy helped place Alfie's collections and her baubles on shelves. She ignored the moans from the guest room, which had become a makeshift hospital ward. Instead she practiced her piano and read on the balcony to avoid the noise. Wished that Cyril, wherever he had gone off to, was by her side to help her ward off the ghost that lived here.

Alfie haunted her, night and day. He haunted her mother more, once he became more coherent and spoke his rambling nonsense to her. More than once she had heard Nora's voice raised behind the oak door, and no reply from Alfie. Her mother was not an angry woman, but Margate in those early months had sparked like a flint and filled Nora’s glamorous face with a rage-fueled fire.

As time passed, Daisy returned to her schooling. New friends were found, and so was a sense of normal. Her mother’s anger had become smoldering coals, and she started to leave the house. Sometimes for pleasure, other times for business still left from Camden Town. Daisy wondered often if Alfie, who remained behind the closed door, envied their comings and goings. She wondered more if he missed her, months separating the moment she had seen him in a gauze mask till now.

***********

On an unremarkable Sunday afternoon, her mother had gone out for some air. Daisy had been left to her own devices, plunking out a song on the piano in the sitting room. A voice, one she hadn't heard in more than a gruff whisper in weeks, sang out:

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do!”

He was awake. Calling to her, it seemed, with a silly song he'd sing to tease since she was small.

"I'm 'alf crazy, all the love for you!”

Daisy rose from the piano bench, wood upon wood scraping quietly before feet plodded to the guest room she avoided. Now, though, the call from within was irresistible.

The door groaned silent as she peeked in, black curls slipping around her shoulders. There in bed lay the man she called father. A man in a pitiful state, but lucid.

"Daisy Bell, sweetie." he managed to crack a smile. "I'll cover up this nasty face of mine if you like, yeah, I just need to see that cherub one of yours."

She stepped in, trod closer.

"It's all right," Daisy remitted. "Will it always look like that?"

Alfie took consideration. "It won't always be as red, yeah, but it'll still look like a gnarled fucking tree. Maybe it'll smooth one day, but it's stuck, love."

"Then don't cover it," she said quietly. "If it's forever, I need to get used to it."

"Wise words from the mouth of babes."

"I'm nearly thirteen." A slight bristle shook through her voice, reminding herself of her mother. "I'm no baby."

"Is that right?" Alfie shut his eyes, heaving a grumbly sigh. A few beats passed, and he opened his good eye. Deep blue, like the ocean at night. Daisy sometimes sat on the balcony of their townhome and watched the waves roll in and out. Alfie's eye held no waves, just stillness.

"Well, if you're such a grown woman now, with wisdom and maturity beyond all our years, right, you'll fetch your dad a thimble of whatever Mum's got in that fancy bar cart she had to have, yeah? A secret between us grown ones, so I can partake of the earthly pleasures again."

Daisy's face hardened. "Mum says you can't."

"A biscuit then. With a strong cuppa." Noting her doubtful looks, he gestured to his face. "The tea to soften the biscuit so this old man can chew softly."

Daisy gave him a doubtful look, but obliged. Wondered how many times he'd asked for small tokens from the nurse or her mother and was promptly shut down. She returned, biscuits and tea in hand.

"You have my undying gratitude, Daisy Bell," he said.

He seemed quite happy, but Daisy couldn't tell if the biscuits or her presence was more the cause. As he dipped a corner of the biscuit into his tea, she thought how silly it was for a ghost to enjoy afternoon tea. She couldn't help an amused smile.

"What's that you're giggling about?" Alfie asked. His own mouth drew into a devilish grin. "You do something funny to these biscuits, ey?"

"No," Daisy replied, smiling wider. "It's a silly thought is all."

"I haven't heard silly thoughts in some time, just a nurse droning on and on about health and tablets. Indulge me."

For the first time in many months, Daisy felt heard again. Hands grabbed the wooden chair next to the wardrobe, scooting close to Alfie. She even let her forearms rest on the side of his bed, close enough to feel warmth not usually becoming of a ghost.

"Well you see," she started, "when we met when I was very little, I saw your rings and tattoo and thought of the men in the books my Gran would read to me. All while we lived in London, I thought of you as a pirate king."

"Is that so?" he chuckled, taking a sip. "Reckon you were a pirate princess then, weren't you?"

"Something like that." Daisy grinned before looking away at the wall. "After Mum got the letter and we couldn't bring you home… Well, I felt like you were a ghost. Like I've been living with a ghost this whole time in Margate."

Alfie didn't respond. Daisy had known he wouldn't; the wound on the soul was still as raw as the scar on his eye.

"But just now, seeing you eat,” she continued, “I found it quite funny to see a ghost eat a biscuit and enjoy a cuppa. All ghosts should be that funny, I think."

"Do you?" Alfie heaved a great sigh, then chuckled. "Better to be a ghost with a sense of humor and an appetite for sweets than a man who's lost both, yeah?”

Daisy nodded. The more she let what he had said rattle about in her mind, the more she came to understand the thankful truth of it. Though she mourned her pirate king, Cyril, and the house with many rooms, Margate and its ghost with his biscuit and tea had their own comfort.

She once again was a child who had a father with a terrible fate that had befallen him. A dozen excuses could be made for his absence but Daisy knew this time, at least, that in secret he still existed. The little secrets they shared had grown to one of great magnitude, like ones of novels and myths.

“I’ve missed you.”

Alfie, who had finished one of his biscuits, eyed her up with that twinkle she loved so dearly in the still dark blue iris. The cup clinked against the saucer as he set it on his lap covered by a blanket. Daisy felt the familiar roughness of his hand as it grasped hers.

“So have I, Daisy.” He gave her hand a squeeze, the feeling less ghostly than she had imagined. “Someday, I promise you, I’ll be out of this terrible fuckin’ bed and you and I can do whatever pleases your sweet heart.”

“That could be a very long time,” Daisy answered. “Is it okay for me to come back in? Will Mum be upset?”

Alfie took a pause.

“I don’t think so,” he decided. “And if she does get upset, it won’t last. The rotation of faces will do me good, yeah? That nurse sometimes makes me feel more ill by her presence alone, she’s got a particularly sour smell to match her face. The sooner I’m out of this room, the better I’ll be, I think. The sea air’ll do me some good, don’t you think?”

Daisy nodded again, vigorously. If Alfie thought the sea and the wisping salt against his face would help him be less a ghost and more a man, she would believe it too.

“We can go walking together,” Daisy suggested. “In the afternoons when I come home from school. And all day on weekends. Mum said she’d buy me a swimming costume for the summer, maybe we could swim—”

Alfie interrupted with his distinctive laugh, a near giggle unexpected from such a large man. The first time Daisy had heard it she had been taken aback, only to laugh along. Hearing it now was like a balm slathered on a skinned knee.

“We’ll start with a short walk, sweetie, then think about swimming in the next distant summer when these limbs can carry this old man easier. If I try to swim now, right, I might be swept away into the sea and some fantastical creature may happen upon me and drag me to its home in the depths. You believe in mermaids, love?”

“No.” Daisy sat back in the chair. “Not anymore.”

“Pity,” Alfie answered. “I saw one once at a carnival; pretty thing with a tail blowing bubbles under the water. If anything were to drag me out to sea, I’d choose her.”

“Stay on land, then!”

Alfie looked at her, quieted by her outburst. Daisy hadn’t meant for the words to leave her mouth so loudly. But all the talk of leaving once more sent her deep into a place of fear.

“I don’t want you to leave again,” Daisy tried once more in a softer voice. “I don’t want you to even try.”

“Then I won’t,” Alfie replied simply. “I’ll ignore all those siren calls I hear from the beach and stay right here, on your orders. You’re the boss, then.”

“Mum said she’s the boss now.” She shifted in her seat, wondered how cold the tea sitting on Alfie’s lap had gone. “Her and Ollie, she says.”

“Right then, you’ll just have to be my boss, won’t you?” Alfie shut his eyes. Daisy inspected his face, riddled with red scars and the patches of scaly rashes around his scalp he had explained as an affliction called psoriasis when she questioned it. He opened his good eye, giving her a quick smile. “Keep me in line and give me my orders to follow. First order is no following mermaids, got that love, what else should I heed from you?”

Daisy had never had that kind of power before, giving orders to an adult. The men at the bakery heeded her silly requests before, yes, but Alfie had always been the one to bark orders. As a child on the cusp of thirteen, it was an immense responsibility. She racked her brain, lips pursed as she ignored Alfie’s amused face, before settling on one.

“Get well fast,” Daisy finally said. “And don’t make Mum cross again, I’ll know if you do.”

“A tall order, that last one, but I’ll do my best,” Alfie grunted, tapping her hand before saluting her. “Yes ma’am.”

#alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons #peaky blinder fanfic #i love soft alfie fics ok bye

27 notes · View notes

dornish-queen · 4 years ago

Photo

Pedro Pascal: “I already took all my drugs very early. In middle age, a hangover is not an option ”

When he was approaching 40, he resigned himself to having sporadic papers that would allow him to pay the rent. But playing Oberyn Martell in 'Game of Thrones' changed his life and opened the doors of 'Narcos'. Since then it has not stopped. Now he's the villain from the blockbuster 'Wonder Woman 1984'

JUAN SANGUINO

THE ANGELS OCT 2, 2020 - 3:19 PM EDT

The first big opportunity of his career was presented in 2011, when he participated in the pilot episode of Wonder Woman for NBC, but the network discarded the series and Pedro Pascal returned to his main occupation: casting castings to play the criminal of the week in the Law and order of duty. “That cancellation was a disappointment, of course, I wanted to work. I did not care if it was something good or bad, I just wanted to work, "he recalls today from his home in Los Angeles during a virtual conversation with ICON. Now Pascal plays the villain of Wonder Woman 1984 , one of the blockbusters destined to return audiences to movie theaters .

How can you not believe in fate? The boy who broke his arm twice playing Indiana Jones has ended up becoming the favorite hero of the kids (the bounty hunter in The Mandalorian ), his parents (Agent Peña in Narcos ) and, well, everyone's. world (Oberyn Martell, The Red Viper, in Game of Thrones ). When Pedro was little, the good guys were always white and the bad guys were Russian, Arab or Latino. The Wonder Woman 1984 villain , however, is a white billionaire played by a Chilean.

“The film is set in the United States of the eighties, which were marked by capitalist greed. It was a tainted concept of evil. Stripped of humanity, but still absolutely attractive and alluring. People who dreamed of being rich and successful had to be salivated. It is true that at that time villains in the cinema projected a xenophobic image. Now the white man can finally be the bad guy, ”explains Pascal.

Some already compare his character, Maxwell Lord, to Donald Trump because of that muck in this mud: Reagan's glorification of rogue moguls in America turned guys like Trump into aspirational role models and glamorous stars. “Trump was not the core of inspiration for my character, on our costume designer's board were Gordon Gekko [Michael Douglas on Wall Street ], American Psycho's Patrick Bateman and other suckers in expensive eighties suits. All those millionaires who hid despair, unbridled ambition and terrified masculinity ”, he clarifies. If Pedro Pascal sounds like a socialist infiltrated in Hollywood it is because that is exactly what he is.

“When Reagan was elected, many people around me were frustrated that the worst forms of capitalism were winning. In my home, with refugee and socialist parents, conservatism was not demonized but it did go against what was important to my family, ”he says. Pascal's father, José Balmaceda, was an Allende supporter doctor who saved the life of a priest wounded by Pinochet's militia .

The priest was later tortured and ended up confessing the name of his savior. When the police went to look for Balmaceda at the hospital where he worked, he took his wife and the newborn Pedro and jumped over the wall of the Venezuelan embassy in Santiago de Chile to request political asylum. That's why Pedro ended up growing up in San Antonio (Texas), in a socialist home but in Reagan's land. A Chilean with no memories of Chile who was called Peter in high school.

At the age of 20, Pascal was in Madrid working as a go-go and keeps good memories. Here she is wearing a Prada sweater. Photo: Danielle DeGrasse-Alston / Realization: Warren Alfie Baker

The Chilean-born but US-raised actor wears a Paul Smith sweater and suit. Photo: Danielle DeGrasse-Alston / Realization: Warren Alfie Baker

Pascal has never left the immigrant mentality behind. Even his father, who came to open a practice in California, always lived in terror that at any moment everything could vanish. “It doesn't matter who you are, how much you are working or how much you get paid. Deep down you always think that each job is the last one ”, confesses the actor. Maybe that's why he didn't dare move from his Red Hook, Brooklyn, hovel to a house more suitable for a Hollywood star until filming for Kingsman 2 and Narcos was over . Nor is it that he had spent more than an entire week at his house since, in 2014, Game of Thrones made him the guy most people would want to party with.

Pascal knew right away that Oberyn Martell, the Westerosi rockstar who always seemed willing to fight or fornicate with the same bravado, was going to change his life. “I had done a lot of castings for friends' plays, for copier factory ads or for very serious independent films that no one was going to see, while I watched how many characters that I had been about to play changed the lives of others. actors. And thanks to my experience and maturity, I recognized the potential of Oberyn. I understood who he was and who he could be ”, he presumes.

The actor found out about the audition when one of his acting students told him that he had taken the test but had been discarded because of his youth. Pedro snapped up and must have thought, “What would Oberyn do?” So he recorded a video on his phone and sent it to his good friend, actress Sarah Paulson . She passed it on to her good friend actress Amanda Peet and this one to her husband, David Benioff, one of the creators of Game of Thrones . The rest is the history of television and headaches: when he informed the Narcos producer that he was available to play Pablo Escobar's pursuing policeman, he accused him of making a spoiler for Game of Thrones: If Pascal had a free agenda, it is because Oberyn was going to lose his fight against La Montaña . He couldn't imagine, of course, in what way.

Part of that electric, lively and hedonistic energy of Oberyn comes to Pascal from the summer (that of 1996) that he spent in Madrid, where in addition to studying he worked as a go-go in a disco. That stay was transformative because the actor realized that he had had to adapt his identity all his life with each new move, but in Madrid he felt effortlessly at home. “I was 20 years old and I liked it so much that I almost moved. My main language is English, I have an American accent and I can pass for white. But in my house there were many cultural differences with respect to the outside world and I remember that when I was 20 years old, when I came to Madrid, I felt very comfortable in my own skin in a way that I had never felt anywhere else. I guess I was not aware that I had spent my childhood and adolescence learning new ways of adapting, connecting, learning, and pulling. On the contrary, living in Madrid was organic and easy for me. I made friends right away and I felt supported, ”he recalls.

By the time he was 40 Pascal was resigned to being an actor with enough odd jobs to pay the rent. According to him, his aquiline nose was a bad nose by Hollywood standards. Far from being offended or frustrated by this typecasting, he was looking forward to it, if it translated into a new check. “It is very strange to develop a fantasy as a child, to have the opportunity to turn it into a hobby, then some studies and finally transform all that into a career. That is the bet. But my dream of becoming Leonardo DiCapriodied. He died dozens and dozens of times. So to move on he had to accept that, at best, he was going to be an actor with a job. That was already a triumph, "he says. "Also, I accepted that I was not qualified for anything else, I had no more skills: I had put all my time, my energy and my concentration in being an actor and the rest in living life and having fun."

That absence of vanity lives on today, even when he's been involved in large-scale projects for five years without stopping. After Game of ThronesHe has made eight films, of which seven are action blockbusters. The wave of fame came to him when he was no longer expecting it but when he was well prepared to ride it. Still, every workday is a surprise and she acknowledges that what amazes her most about Hollywood is the sheer physical stamina that people have. “Sometimes a project can look like building a city, with all the hours, all the work and all the energy it requires. Some people have better stamina and can get by with little sleep. That is an interesting contradiction: all the people creatively involved in a film have a special sensitivity and at the same time have developed a very tough skin and energy to go through the physical experience of shooting it, ”he admires.

Then Pascal switches to Spanish (the language he uses to confess intimacies) and explains, in a few words, that he is old for this shit. “I thought I had all the energy in the world and now, in my 40s, I see that ... wow! There are times when I don't know if I will be able to reach the goal, because my energy is not at the necessary level. But I always take it forward ”, he guarantees. Maybe that's why people get so high in Hollywood. Pascal responds between laughter and again in Spanish.

“I already took all my drugs very early. It is something that is already too much in the past, and in middle age a hangover is not an option. No, no, no ”, she assures. What if the other hangover, that of the wave of fame, runs over you? “I was a good waiter. Not at first, because they fired me many times, but I ended up getting the hang of it, ”he jokes. If the Hollywood thing doesn't go well, you can always put drinks again. But for now Pedro Pascal is the personification that the American dream , although sometimes it takes a little longer to materialize, really exists. Even Ronald Reagan would be proud.

source

#pedro pascal #el pais icon #whole article

296 notes · View notes

prettyyoungandbored · 4 years ago

Text

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Eight

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: None

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

Demetria laid in the hospital bed, toying with the thin, white waffle blanket the nurse had given her an hour ago.

The doctors concluded she’d had a severe panic attack, stemming from the trauma caused by The Joker’s attack. They gave her some medicine to put her at ease and stitched up her arm.

Alfred sat in the chair beside her. He rode in the ambulance with her and stayed with her throughout her stay.

While his company was deeply appreciated, the disappointment of Bruce’s absence sunk into her. How could he have left her? Where was he?

Just then, Harvey rushed in hurriedly.

“Dem, oh my god,” he said taking her hand. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alive,” she sighed. “How are you? What happened to you?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I was talking with Rachel and the next thing I knew I was dragged into some kind of safe room. Next thing I know, the cops let me out and told me what happened.”

“How’s Rachel doing?”

“She’s fine. No injuries or anything. I don’t know how she survived falling that far without a scratch, but I guess I have Batman to thank.” His eyes shifted to Alfred, his brows furrowing. “Where the hell is Bruce?”

“That’s the million dollar question tonight,” Demetria responded.

“Was he there when you were attacked?”

She shook her head. Harvey pursed her his lip, head shaking.

“He better have gotten locked in a room or I’m gonna kill him,”

“Harvey.”

“He should be here with you.” He eyed Alfred. “Where the hell is he?! Where was he?!”

“Enough!” Demetria spat. “First of all, you need to calm down. Second, the reason I’m ok and here is because of Alfred so don’t attack him.”

Harvey sighed and eyed Alfred. “Thank you for helping her. I’m sorry.”

“Understandable, Mr. Dent,” Alfred responded with a nod. “It’s been quite the night for all of us.”

“Go be with Rachel, ok?” Demetria said, taking Harvey’s hand. “She needs you right now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Harvey nodded and kissed the top of Demetria’s head. “Call me tomorrow.”

He left the room and Demetria turned to Alfred. “I’m sorry Alfred.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured with a smile before returning to his newspaper.

Demetria pursed her lips back. “Alfred?”

He glanced up from his paper. “Yes, Miss Gallagher?”

“Thank you, for being there.” Her lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “And for staying by my side.” He gave her a small nod, smiling. “My pleasure.”

She sat up a bit. “Are you doing ok?”

He chuckled. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, Miss Gallagher. What happened tonight doesn’t compare to some of the other things I have witnessed.”

Before Demetria could question what exactly Alfred had seen in his life, a female nurse with sandy blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail entered the room.

“You holding up alright?” the nurse asked, setting down the clipboard on the nightstand beside the bed.

Demetria sighed, leaning her head back on the pillow. “I’ve had better nights.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she laughed kindly. She reached into the pocket of her scrubs and pulled out some makeup wipes from her pocket.

“We keep it for all the nurses, but I figured you could use it,” she said.

Demetria gave the nurse a kind smile as she took wipe. “Thank you. I knew I should’ve stuck with waterproof makeup.” She wiped her eyes and face before tossing it into the trash beside her. “Hopefully my face isn't as bad as it was before.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful, even with smudged makeup.”

She snorted. “You’re very kind.”

Demetria eyes then shifted tp the nurses standing around the desk area looking at her, whispering among themselves. The nurse turned to them, shooting a dirty look at them.

“They don’t mean any harm,” the nurse chuckled. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“I can appreciate that.

“My daughter suffers from them too,” the nurse went on. “Panic attacks, I mean.”

“How old is she?”

“16. Diagnosed just two years ago.”

“It’s hard when you’re young,” Demetria acknowledged. “I was 18 when I started getting them.”

“She’s doing better at managing them. Some days are harder than others.”

Demetria hummed, remembering what the first few years of her panic attacks were like - how she spent time and money trying to find the right medicine for her, how they would come up during lectures in college and she wondered if she was going to drop dead in the middle of class. At times they reduced her to tears, consuming her mentality.

“What’s her name?” she asked.

“Vanessa.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

The doctor, a male with silver hair and friendly eyes, entered, giving Demetria a warm smile. “How’s everything?”

“Alright for the most part,” she nodded. “The medicine has definitely kicked in.”

It was then Bruce rushed into the room. “I’m so sorry, honey. One of the clown’s men locked me in the bedroom. As soon as the officers got me out and told me what happened, I booked it over here.”

He took her hand, kissing the top of her head. “Are you ok?”

“She has stitches in her forearm,” the doctor explained. “She also suffered a pretty big panic attack so we gave her some medicine to calm her down.”

A sigh of relief escaped Bruce’s lips. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Make sure she takes it easy the next couple of days. Give us a couple minutes and we’ll get you home.”

Demetria nodded, the doctor and nurse leaving. Bruce kissed the top of Demetria’s head.

“I am so sorry,” he said. “I was grabbing stuff for us to leave and the next thing I knew-.”

She waved her hand. “It’s fine. As long as they didn’t hurt you.”

Her tone, while relaxed, wasn’t completely reassuring. His eyes met Alfred’s, who glared at him from the newspaper. He gave the old man a nod before returning to Demetria. “We’re going to get you home safe and sound.”

While he meant what he said, it was easier said than done. Outside of the hospital was a swarm of photographers and reporters. Demetria held onto Bruce’s hand, keeping her head low as he led her through the roaring crowd.

“Demetria, how are you feeling?”

“Was The Joker telling the truth? Is there something going on between you and Harvey?”

“Did you see the Batman come in to the party?”

“Show us the wound!!”

Bruce helped her into the passenger side of car before going to the driver’s side. He turned to the press. “My fiancé is fine. Thanks.”

Glittering flashes of light stood before Demetria, as she tried to keep her head low. The flashes died down as the car pulled away.

The silence in the car was deafening. Bruce kept his eye on the road while Alfred sat in the back of the car. In the passenger seat, Demetria pressed her head against the window, staring at the nightlife that passed by.

Exhaustion from the medicine and the trauma wrapped around her like a blanket. Still, in the back of her mind, something felt off about Bruce’s alibi.If he was trapped in the bedroom, wouldn’t he and Harvey have gotten out at the same time? Wouldn’t Harvey had heard him or seen him?

Also, what did Bruce need to tell her?

==========================================

When they arrived back at the penthouse, Alfred went straight to the kitchen and grabbed the kettle. Demetria followed soon after with Bruce right behind her.

She went into their room first, Bruce watching her grab some sweatpants and a shirt before walking back out.

She turned to him, her eyes watering again.

“I’m...uh...gonna stay in the guest room tonight,” she said, letting out a sniffle.

“Dem-.”

“I want to be alone, ok?”

He nodded understandingly and watched her go into the guest bedroom. The second the door was closed, he eyed Alfred.

“I messed up,” he admitted. “I should’ve grabbed her first. I wasn’t sure how much time I had and I knew he wanted Harvey-.”

“The issue, Master Wayne, goes beyond you not saving her first,” Alfred cut him off, turning to him.

“What was I supposed to do, Alfred?”

“You already know.”

Bruce scratched the back of his head. “Rachel...after she found out, said she couldn’t be with me because of him. Suppose Demetria does the same thing.”

“Demetria is not Rachel, Master Wayne. Demetria has put up with the playboy facade you’ve created. She risked her sanity and comfort to deal with the people you both hate tonight. She’s given up the quiet life she loved to be with you. She’s made her sacrifices. It’s time you’ve made yours.”

================================================

Demetria curled up in bed, the medicine beginning to wear off. She clutched onto the pillow, staring out into the dark room.

Waves of exhaustion crashed over her body, but yet she couldn’t bring herself to fall asleep.

She cursed herself for pushing Bruce away, knowing deep down she didn’t actually want to be alone. She wanted to be in his arms, to hear him reassure her that everything would be ok.

Still, she couldn’t shake how he treated her at the party, as well as his excuse as to what happened to him at the party. As much as she desperately wanted to believe him, she couldn’t.

She got up from thr bed and made her way to her and Bruce’s room. She opened the door to find he wasn’t there. She sighed, closing the door.

He must’ve gone to the gym, she thought.

“Looking for someone?”

She turned to see Bruce sitting in the chair. He was out of his part attire, instead donning a brown polo shirt and black pants.

“I thought you would be at the gym,” she said, taking a seat on the coffee table that faced him.

“Took the night off.”

“You looked like your dressed to be somewhere.”

He flashed a tiny smile. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

She wiped her sweatpants with the palm of her hands, exhaling. Bruce straightened his posture, sensing she was fighting herself to speak up.

She bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes stinging as tears began to fill her eyes. “Tonight was just...”

She let out a defeated chuckle, shrugging. “I don’t know where to begin. I don’t. There are a million different things that I want to say but...”

Bruce waited on bated breath, his heart sinking at the site of her crumbling down in each second that passed. Still, he was patient.

Her eyes finally met his. “I felt like an animal in a cage for people to stare at. Like I had no purpose other than to be talked down to or ridiculed. And the one person I needed the most....” She exhaled. “I really needed you there.”

He leaned in toward her. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry.”

He took her hand in his. “There’s something I need to show you. Go grab a jacket.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” His thumb grazed her chin. “I need you to trust me.”

His pleading tone managed to win her over somehow. She excused herself to grab a jacket from their room.

As Bruce waited, he could feel his heart race. The ambiguity of what would happen with their relationship after he would tell her broke him down.

Demetria returned wearing her green utility jacket over her shirt and sweatpants and her paid of white Keds.

“Let’s go,” he told her, grabbing her hand.

They went into the elevator down into the garage. The silence between them was deafening, both lost in their own thoughts. When the door opened, Demetria followed Bruce into his dark grey Lamborghini Murciélago LP640.

The second the car left the garage, Bruce broke the silence.

“Do you remember I told you I spent time traveling the world for a few years?” he spoke up. Demetria nodded. “Before I traveled, I tried to kill the man who killed the my parents. An assassin who worked for a mobster named Carmine Falcone beat me to it. So I visited Falcone who told me real power comes from being feared. So, I decided to spend some time studying the criminal underworld. I trained in combat under this group, the League of Shadows. I later found out they had plans to destroy Gotham, so I burnt down their temple.”

Demetria stared at Bruce, wide-eyed and mouth gaped open. Although she knew of the trauma and grief Bruce had carried from witnessing his parent’s murder, never in a million years did she think he was capable of murdering the guy. It was one thing to wish death on the guy who killed you parents, but to go out and kill him was a whole other thing.

She wasn’t sure how to respond, let alone process it, and judging by the deer-in-the headlights expression on her face, Bruce could tell.

“I came back to Gotham because I felt like the city needed protection,” he continued.

He pulled the car into an abandoned lot with a broken down warehouse bunker. He stopped the car and despite her hesitation, Demetria got out and followed Bruce.

Her silence terrified him, but he knew what he had to do. He opened the door, letting her in first before closing it.

Demetria’s stomach went weak, anticipation running through her. She followed Bruce into the dimly lit hallway before he stopped her.

“Stay here,” he told her.

Suddenly, the floor began to lower down into an underground room. Demetria’s heart rate picked up as she looked down.

The next thing she knew, she was in a brightly lit, spacious room with two, black military-esque Lamborghinis.

“What the fuck is this?” she said, eyeing the whole room.

This was it. No turning back.

“Demetria...I’m Batman.”

She whipped her head to Bruce, her mouth hung open. Her blood ran cold, her entire being knocked out by three words.

“You...you’re....you...” Her words failed her.

He motioned for her to follow him. He grabbed a remote from off the desk and pointed it at the wall across from him. A section on of the floor rose, revealing a glass case where sure enough, hanging perfectly inside was Batman’s costume.

Demetria eyes went back and fourth between the costume and Bruce, trying to make sense of what was happening. Bruce watched her, waiting for her to say something, anything. As far as he was concerned, he was watching what would be the end of their relationship.

“I....I don’t...I...I...” She shook her head. “I don’t know...what...what the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck? You’re Batman? You? Bruce Wayne?”

She stepped back. “How the hell am I supposed to believe this? How do I know that’s not a just a really good replica of his costume?”

“You told me on the rooftop that it was scary to have people take photos of you and that you feel like an animal in a zoo enclosure.”

She nodded her head, pressing her fingers to her temple. “Oh my fucking god.”

“I wanted so many times to tell you,” he said, taking a step forward. “I promised myself to keep you away from Batman because I didn’t want you to get mixed up in it.”

“But the balcony...”

“I didn’t want you out alone at night, even if it was on my balcony.”

Then it hit her. The party.

“If the suits in here, how did you have it for the party?” she asked.

“I keep a spare in a private room.”

She threw her hands. “How the fuck do you have so many private rooms? I know it’s a penthouse, but come on!”

She started pacing back and fourth. “So instead of training for extreme hiking or whatever, you’ve been doing this?”

“That’s correct.”

She ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, first you tell me you tried to kill the guy who killed your parents and then you tell me you’re Batman.” She threw her hands up. “I feel like....I mean...when the hell were you going to tell me any of this? Before or after the wedding?”

He shoved his hands in his pant pockets. “ I was going to tell you when I was done.”

“What do you mean when you were done?”

“Done with Batman. Gotham doesn’t need me anymore. It has Harvey.”

Her eyes went wide. “That’s why you threw him the fundraiser.”

“He’s what this city needs and what it deserves.”

Then it dawned on her. Her speech from earlier. “You’re one of the reasons Gotham has a brighter future.”

“You were upset with my speech,” she figured out. “That’s why you went outside.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t upset, it’s just that I’ve been at this for so long, Demetria. While I’m ready to give up Batman, on the other hand it’s easier said than done.”

“Bruce, I said he was one of the reasons, not the reason.” She took a step toward him. “Don’t get me wrong, what Harvey’s doing is great, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done. Batman is the reason this city’s getting better.”

“But he’s also the reason you got attacked,” he pointed out. “I went into our room to grab some stuff so we could leave and I saw on the security camera that The Joker was coming. I knew he was after Harvey so I rescued him first. By the time I came back for you, it was too late. When I came back as Batman, he’d already gotten to you.” He shook his head. “I should’ve saved you first.”

Demetria put a hand on his arm comfortingly. “I wasn’t the target. Harvey was.”

“But-.”

“Bruce,” her voice was gentle, but stern. “Stop, alright? You did what was right.”

His hands cradled her cheeks. “You’re my home, Demetria. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

Safe. The word felt damning to him now.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If you want to leave, I understand.”

She cocked her head back. “Bruce...”

“It’s ok.”

“Bruce, I’m not going anywhere,” she told him, a light chuckle in her voice. “I mean, yeah, I feel like I’ve been thrown off, but none of this changes the fact that I’m completely, stupidly in love with you.”

A small, amused smile formed on his lips. “Stupidly?”

She rolled her eyes at her own word being said back to her. “Stupidly.”

His hands fell down to her waist. “I’m stupidly in love with you too.”

They leaned in, their lips pressing together in a perfect synchronization. Both melted into each other’s touch, Bruce pulling her closer to him.

When she pulled her lips back, she ran her hands through his dark hair.

“Promise me no more secrets, ok? No more hiding from me.” She paused, realizing her own hypocrisy. “That goes for me too, ok? I need to stop hiding my panic attack and anxieties and other shit from you.”

“No more hiding” Bruce repeated in agreement. He cradled her cheek with his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“I’m sorry too.” She ran her hands through her hair. “We used to be so much better at communicating each other. What the hell happened?”

“We got caught up in other things and forgot what mattered.” He kissed her forehead. “It’s just something we’ll have to work on being better at.”

She threw her arms around his neck, when her eyes lit up. “Oh, and one more thing. The next time you decide to throw a party with those people and abandon it, take me with you.”

“How about no more parties with them, period?” he countered playfully.

“That is the sexiest thing you’ve said to me.”

He chuckled. “You’re joking me.”

She shook her head patting his chest when it hit her. “Before I forget, there’s something else I need to tell you. You remember The Joker’s video from today? I know that location.”

“I know,” he said, shoving his hands in his pant pockets. “I found the letter in your drawer.”

“Oh?” She inquired, crossing her arms against her chest. “What were you doing in there?”

“I was packing us a bag and wanted to make sure I packed your anxiety medications. When I saw it wasn’t in the cabinet, despite having told you to put it in there, I grabbed it from the nightstand drawer.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Fair enough, I guess. Did it at least help?”

“I went to check it out after Rachel and I’s fall. Nothing was there except some traces of dried blood.”

“Could it have been that guy’s?”

“It’s possible.”

He opened a desk drawer, revealing a piece of the brick with dried blood on it. “I was going to check it out tomorrow morning.”

“Mind if I join you?”

His hands met her hips. “I would love that.”

She gave him a quick kiss, when the corners of her mouth curved mischievously. “Can I drive the batcar home?”

“No.”

“Can I sit in it?”

“Maybe.”

“Can I sit on your lap while we both sit in it?”

“It’s not big enough.”

Her mouth hung open. “Bruce!”

“I meant it’s not big enough for two people.”

“Hmmm, sure.” She pat his chest. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

She went to walk away when he grabbed her hand and pulled it back, bringing her face to his as his lips crashed onto hers. Both of them were too lost to realize their bodies had found themselves on the floor.

Needless to say, they didn’t make it home.

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman fanfic #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #christian bale #christian bale x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bale!batman #the joker

149 notes · View notes

sweeethinny · 4 years ago

Text

The Third Time of Three

This was definitely what I expected the most! TW: Abortion

part 1 | part 2 | ao3

‘’Sorry’’ Ginny mumbled in the midst of sobs, lying in a fetal position on the bed while hugging her knees, feeling like scum, the worst of the species ‘‘Sorry’’ She could barely see a foot in front of her face

‘‘Please don’t say that’’ Harry was crying too, hugging her from behind and looking like he was about to pick her up to lull her like he did with his kids ‘‘Please Gin, don’t apologize’’

‘’I didn’t know .. I don’t-- ’’

‘’- I know my love, I know’’

Two days ago..

Harry and Ginny had decided to have another child, no matter how much James and Albus were being less argumentative with each other and the Weasleys had grown up considerably in the last few years, it seemed right.

And it felt right when he took his goddaughter Rose on his lap, or when they saw Ron braiding his daughter's hair, when Dominique climbed onto Harry's lap so she could makeup him, and when little Molly asked Ginny to teach her Flying. It felt right to try again.

Harry was no longer going on suicide missions and had become the Head of Aurors, which made his workload very short, and that Ginny was starting to think about retiring from the Harpies, since The Prophet offered a job as a journalist. James was at an important stage in his life and now he was beginning to enter a stage that he would be able to remember when he was older, and none of them wanted the boy's memories to be of his parents' absence. And Teddy was almost going to Hogwarts, which demanded even more attention.

But it seemed like a good time to try.

They tried - not that it was a horrible thing to do, honestly - and as much as it was sad when the test came back negative, they didn't give up.

Ginny had warned Gwenog this time, told her about the plans and that possibly she would not return after the third child, everything was going well.

Until she fell off the broom in the middle of the World Cup.

It had been chaos, from when the bludger hit her in the ribs and caused her body to be thrown away from the broom, until the time she fell on the floor unconscious, remembering nothing else.

Harry despaired, there was a frightening amount of blood on the floor and Ginny looked quite hurt even though he saw it from several feet up. For a few seconds, as he stared at her lying on the floor, he thought he had lost her. He thought that for some cruel reason, his children would be without their mother, they would lose the best person they had ever met.

But she moved, very little, but she moved, and he started breathing again.

In the next instant, Harry was in the Hospital, walking in the room where Ginny was, still unconscious and looking absurdly fragile. Molly had stayed with the boys, however much Teddy looked like he was about to break down and Albus seemed to lose his lungs with every step his grandparents took away from Harry. James was darkly silent, looking over his grandfather's shoulder towards his father, as if he expected Harry to disappear forever. He later blamed himself for leaving the boys that way, without even explaining that he would return.

When Ginny woke up, she barely remembered where she was or what had happened, the healers kept her under observation until they were sure that everything was fine, and that she would not have any fallout. And when Healer Swattye arrived with the papers in hand, they expected the worst, because no one would bring good news with that face;

‘‘I’m sorry Mrs. Potter, but you lost the baby’’

Ginny has been blaming herself ever since, crying endlessly since she knew, avoiding anyone but Harry, hiding inside the room and finding herself the worst of monsters.

''Albus is worried'' Harry said after her crying soothed, hugging her to his chest and stroking her red hair ''Let him in just to see that you're okay'' He asked, already imagining that his son could barely make it stop in place, anxious about the mother's silence since they returned from the Hospital

‘’What if he sniffs that I’m a bad mother? Children can feel’’ She murmured against his chest, her voice shaky and low. Harry had thought he had never felt so much pain in his life

‘’You’re not, Gin. You will never be .. You didn't know you were pregnant and the Bludger was really strong'' Harry repeated for what seemed like the tenth time, but he wouldn't stop until Ginny understood ''Let the boys come and see you, it'll be good'' The woman sighed, seeming to ponder, before nodding. ‘’I’ll call them’’

Harry knocked on Teddy's room, knowing that the three were there, as they had been since they had returned, sleeping together and holding each other as if they were going to be safer. ‘’Mom wants to see you’’ He said, taking Albus on his lap and waiting for Teddy and James to get up.

The second, had not yet expressed any reaction beyond the silence - deafening - and the few words he had spoken during breakfast today, commenting on not wanting to go to his grandparents' house.

Harry thought he was the one who was suffering the most from Gin's situation.

As soon as they opened the bedroom door, Ginny was sitting on the bed, still looking crying, but at least she smiled when Teddy and Albus ran to the bed, throwing themselves on the mattress and hugging her as if she had run away for decades. James continued to hug Harry's leg.

‘’Come on buddy, I’m going with you .. Mommy wants to see you too’’ Harry whispered, lowering himself to the son who looked like he was about to cry, his brown eyes shining towards his parents bed

‘’Doesn’t she love us anymore?’’ James also whispered, looking at his dad this time.

''Of course she does, she is just in pain… she is missing you'' Harry looked at Ginny, who faced the situation as if it were a horror movie, still being hugged by the other two boys, but still looking about to cry again with the reluctance of the other son ''Come on, let's go'' James moved, accompanying Harry to the bed and climbing with the impulse his father had given him, sitting next to Gin's waist, looking at her with curiosity.

''Mommy, are you okay?'' James asked, not taking his eyes off her eyes ''Daddy said you got hurt'' Ginny swallowed, her heart aching in her chest, wanting to pull the boy close but also wanting respect your moment.

‘’Mom will stay’’ She said hopefully

''I wish I came here to read to you, like you did when I fell, but Dad said I needed to be with Al .. I took care of him, Mom, I didn't fight'' James was still serious, but now his eyes were running tears. Gin was the same, and she couldn't take much longer, pulling him into the collective embrace, kissing the top of his head

''Thank you dear, Teddy told me that you were very patient'' The godson nodded, smiling at James, lying on Gin's shoulder as if he were still small, while Albus was precisely lying with his head on her belly, as if wanted to hear what was inside. James lay on the other shoulder, within her embrace.

‘‘I was scared’’ James whispered in her ear ‘‘But I knew you were coming back’’.

[...]

Ginny managed to sleep that night, and the others too, even when Harry had to leave at dawn to help an Auror who was calling him, and Teddy came to lie with her, hugging her and barely keeping his eyes open for more than a minute before to go back to sleep (and she knew there was Harry's finger on it). She was recovering.

She went to see a healer a few days later and followed his orders about retiring entirely from Quidditch, in order to avoid more moments like that. Ginny could barely contain a few tears when Gwenog hugged her and thanked her for all the years they had worked together, and that she fully understood that it was time for her to go. Asking her to be kind in sports columns involving the Harpies.

And after a few months, after telling her mother what had happened and crying like a baby in her lap; she and Harry tried again.

The healer had said that maybe it would take time, her body was weakened and maybe it would be better for her to talk to the Muggle obstetrician and gynecologist who had delivered the baby and all the monitoring of James and Albus, just to clear conscience.

She and Harry listened carefully to the doctor, did the tests, and Ginny told about the loss of the baby and how it had affected her. Dr Iven, as always, had been calm and empathetic with her situation, reaffirming - even if she had not spoken - that she was not a bad mother for having lost her child and that this was more than she could have imagined.

‘’But now, we’re going to work for the next one to come, and to be healthy’’ He said, before prescribing some more routine tests.

In the first month, nothing happened. Not in the second, or in the third, or in the sixth ... Nothing. But then, after Teddy's 10th birthday (where he secretly asked for a little sister), a few weeks later, Ginny was in a much bigger spurt than usual, and she was sweating a lot, even if it was autumn.

At first she thought it was because working with Rita Skeeter was really stressful, but the woman had spent a week in Wales. Afterwards, she thought she might be entering menopause, but it was impossible, witches only entered after 100 years old. So Ginny took off all her clothes and put herself in front of a mirror, just because she had read this in one of the magazines that Dr Iven kept it at the clinic.

Her breasts were heavier, and her stomach seemed higher than normal, and her vaginal lips were darker, as indicated in the magazine that was due to blood flow in early pregnancy.

It didn't take long for her to put on her clothes and apparate near the Muggle pharmacy, buying several pregnancy tests and then returning home. It was late afternoon, Harry was in the yard helping Albus to plant whatever he had gotten from Neville, James was hanging out with Ron, Mione and Rose, and Teddy would only come tomorrow ... She could hardly stand her curiosity, but she held on until it was later and Harry could be on the side, just because Ginny would feel safer that way.

‘’I bought pregnancy tests’’ She commented as soon as her husband closed the door to their room after putting the two boys to sleep ‘‘I haven’t done any’’

‘’Do you think you are .. are you pregnant? Forget it, of course it does'' They both laughed ''Whatever the outcome, I'm here'' Harry said, and she nodded, running to the bathroom and lowering her pants, anxious to pee soon ''Not even with me you get naked so fast''

''I had three liters of water in the last two hours, I need to pee'' The two were silent while Ginny peed as much of the test as she could, placing them on top of the sink and barely being able to get up from the toilet, hiding her face in her hands and trying not to create too much expectation.

‘’I love you’’ Harry whispered, sitting across from her on the floor ‘‘So much’’

‘’Me too’’ Ginny looked at him, smiling and feeling her chest rumbling with each heartbeat ‘’ How long?’’

‘’One minute’’ He looked at the watch on his wrist ‘‘I think I might pass out at any time’’

‘‘Please don’t’’ Ginny laughed, taking a deep breath and looking at the test row. She wanted it so badly, wanted so much more opportunity ... one last time. Maybe if a girl came now, a little redhead - just this once ... Of course, she would love the baby with her whole life, regardless of sex.

‘’Three minutes’’ Harry spoke, but remained still, looking at her

‘’You take it, I can’t look’’ Ginny hid her face again, blood pounding in her ears .. She wanted it so badly…

''Ginny?'' Harry was trembling when she looked at him, he was looking at the row of tests and tears were falling from his eyes as if it were a running tap, a small smile formed, before giving way to a huge one ''We will be parents’’.

#Harry Potter #Harry and Ginny #harry x ginny #next gen harry potter #Harry!Dad #ginny potter #Ginny!Mom #hinny headcanon #hinny #hinny fanfic #read-a-hinny-fic #hp next gen #harry potter next generation #Teddy Lupin #James Sirius Potter #Albus Severus Potter #lily luna potter

126 notes · View notes

petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Chapter 2 Inukag angst

The surgery lasted for five nerve wracking hours, all the while the distress in the group building. They were kept semi-up-to-date by a nurse that the surgeons were struggling to control the bleeding in Kagome’s brain. When it was finally over, the primary surgeon brought the family into a separate room where he showed them scans to help in explaining the situation. It was the first time they learned the air bags had not deployed, and even though Kagome was wearing her seat belt, her head is believed to have struck the steering wheel, and the driver’s side window as she was jostled.

“We went in and repaired as many of the damaged blood vessels as we could, but as you can see here in this CT scan, there was some anoxia, erm, loss of oxygen to the cells, and the damage had reached the hippocampus. If you picture being shaken with a lot of force, the brain was essentially whiplashed. The good news is, the internal injuries are not as severe as it could have been and are localized to only one side, but the bad news is where the injured areas are.”

“Why is that?” Inuyasha questioned.

“The hippocampus is an important part of the brain for regulating the limbic system... when Ms. Higurashi wakes up, chances are high that she’ll develop what’s called retrograde amnesia. If her body heals well enough, it will only be temporary, which I believe will be the case. However, there is also the small chance her memory loss could become permanent.”

“Wait, so Kagome won’t remember anything?!” Panic-laced with Inuyasha's tone.

“Not exactly, and again, the memory system is very complex. We don’t know all the answers. But generally, people will remember long term memories, such as their childhood. She just may not remember the last few years of her life.”

“And if it’s temporary? When would her memories come back?” Mrs. Higurashi questioned.

“Generally, if her healing goes well, most recover in about 6-9 months with therapy.”

“Oh... no...” Inuyasha crumpled and fell to his knees, hands flying up to cradle his head in the realization— Kagome may not remember him, and along with her last words of hatred and tears as the only thing he had to hold on to... “No, no, no, t-this can’t be happening.” His heart started beating wildly in his chest and a sharp imagined pain dug into his temple as tears poured down his cheeks. “Kagome...” he whimpered. Inuyasha would do anything in to change what had happened. She didn’t deserve any of this!

Mrs. Higurashi too, kneeled beside the inconsolable man and hugged him. “We just have to hold out hope, Inuyasha, this is just temporary. I’m sure it’ll all work out, Kagome’s strong, so have faith in her.”

“I’m very sorry I don’t have better news,” the doctor apologized and gestured to the nurse who’d just arrived. “They’re moving her to intensive care now. The nurse will take you to the room.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Mrs. higurashi then turned her attention to Inuyasha. “Can you stand up dear? We should follow the nurse.”

He nodded quietly and staggered to his feet despite all the strength having left his body. Inuyasha always had an appreciation for Mrs. Higurashi, but it was in this moment he understood just how strong she truly was. Kagome’s mother survived losing her husband to an accident when the kids were little and now her own daughter was unconscious in a hospital. Yet here she was holding it together and comforting the man who’d played a role in it. Inuyasha allowed her to guide him by the hand like the scared child he’d become. She was for all purposes like a second mother to him, and he was grateful to have her in his life.

But the second they crossed the threshold of the sterile room, what little strength Inuyasha didn’t have left, dissolved at the sight of Kagome surrounded by the machines keeping her alive. He stared silently as the nurse explained further. A medically induced coma... breathing and feeding tube, catheter, blood transfusions... left distal wrist fracture, broken rib, punctured lung and chest contusions, cracked left eye socket... his mind zoned away from the woman’s static words, instead affixed to the visual’s confronting the group. The love of his life as if asleep, but with all those wires, and tubes, beeping machines, and face bandaged showing only a small portion of her right side was a real life horror movie scene. His eyes tracked the peaks and valleys of the heart monitor or piston-motion of the breathing apparatus beside the bed as of it tracked not Kagome’s vitals but his own life and the one, he had with her. Yes, there’s always the hope she’ll heal and bounce right back. Her mom was right, Kagome was strong, and Inuyasha loved that about her, but... humans are still such fragile creatures.

Inuyasha walked over to the side of the bed and gazed down through glassy eyes. “I already bought a ring...” he mumbled through the tears, “was just waiting for the perfect time to pop the question. I should’ve just... listened to her...” Inuyasha collapsed beside the bed with his head hung low and ears so flattened they were barely visible through his white hair. “I can’t even imagine not having her at my side.”

Miroku stepped forward and placed a hand on his friends shoulder. “Why don’t you let us take you home for now? There’s nothing you can do, and I’m sure Kagome would say you should get some rest.”

“I’ll stay tonight,” Mrs Higurashi added. “You should listen to your friend and get some rest.”

Inuyasha was just too exhausted to argue. He hugged Mrs. Higurashi and told her he’d be back the next day. Then he handed Miroku his car keys, while Sango would follow in their car. Frankly, he didn’t think he would be getting any sleep, but they were right. It wouldn’t do Kagome any good if he didn’t take care of himself too. The car ride was silent for the first half of the journey, but eventually Miroku started asking him more about what really triggered the fight. Inuyasha had already explained the reason earlier, so it was annoying to be grilled all over it again.

“But do you understand now?” Miroku pushed his friend. “Do you truly, and I mean truly understand why she was angry? Even I’ve seen your ex being rude to Kagome and you didn’t say anything about it.”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha growled back. “I get it. I was being a dick this whole time. But I can’t go back and change it now, so what’s the point of torturing me about it?!”

“Because you can still fix this moving forward. Look, I’m just trying to help you here, so cut the attitude. None of us are perfect—.”

“I’ll say, you womanizer,” Inuyasha rumbled under his breath.

“Exactly, but I changed once I met Sango, did I not, because that’s what you do when you love them. So, do you know what you need to do?”

“Yeah...” the hanyo sighed and slumped in the seat. “I gotta cut Kikyo off, just tell her we can’t be friends anymore.”

Miroku quirked an eyebrow based on the lackluster tone in Inuyasha’s voice. “Do you really mean it, cause it sure as hell don’t sound like it.”

“Look, man I’m fucking tired! I’ve got a lot on my mind! But I fucking mean it, okay?! If I have to choose between Kagome and Kikyo, I pick Kagome!”

Miroku parked the car and turned to his friend. “I’m glad to hear that. Now just follow through and don’t let Kikyo pull you back in.”

“You make her sound like a sorcerer or something.”

“The way she’s had you wrapped around her finger, it wouldn’t surprise me.”

The three friends bid each other good night leaving Inuyasha alone again in the empty house, and as he expected, he didn’t really sleep at all that night at home. He couldn’t even bear to sleep in the empty bed because it was a constant reminder of Kagome’s absence. How was he supposed to endure months of this, and that’s if the doctors predictions are correct? So, as he curled up on the couch, just staring out into the dark room, Inuyasha did the only thing he could do. Think. Without Kagome to elaborate, it fell onto his shoulders to fully come to grips with what triggered this event. Inuyasha meant what he’d said to Miroku about his choice, but it was a small lie about understanding her anger. He could grasp her frustration, but not the degree to which she’d snapped. Was it really that bad, and if so, how did he not realize it sooner? Needless to say, his haunted dreams that night left him stricken and tired come morning.

The house just felt so much colder without Kagome there, as if all the warmth and vitality left with her on that stormy, dreary night. Even after the first night, Inuyasha couldn’t bear to sleep in their bed all alone and stuck with the couch instead. Nothing made him feel better, despite the efforts of his friends and family who supported him as much as they could. Each day that passed by became a hollow routine. Go to work during the day, spend his evening at Kagome’s side, and home again to an empty house. He would sit there holding her hand, praying for just the smallest change that never came all the while nothing but his thoughts and the beeping machines to remind him he was alive. Because the longer this went on for, each time he’d look at her, it brought the opposite feeling of life. It was all in his head, but that’s what he felt like, dead inside, with the source of his soul lying in the bed in front of him.

Inuyasha never believed in the gods, but he prayed with all his heart they’ll hear his pleas. He squeezed Kagome’s lifeless hand. “She deserves to live, please, I’ll do anything,” his voice cracked, “anything to bring her back to us...”

#inukag #inukag au #inuyasha #inukag fan fiction #inukag fan fic #Kagome higurashi #amnesia prompt #angst #angst with happy ending

37 notes · View notes

gloriainalbis · 4 years ago

Text

Half a Person

Klaus Hargreeves x Reader Words: 7.8k Warnings: Drugs, smoking, and alcohol, mentions of ODing and death, swearing Summary: It’s difficult watching the person you care about most in the world barreling towards rock bottom, and it’s even more difficult when you only find out after. Ao3

For what felt like the hundredth time, you were waiting outside a formidably bland concrete building, leaning against your car and staring up at a sign that read ‘Something-Something Clinic’ or ‘The-Such-And-Such Center.’ Today it was Lakeshore Hills Rehabilitation. You’d gotten the all too familiar call only a week ago, and it was the first time you’d heard anything from Klaus in almost a month. Seeing Lakeshore’s name pop up, you’d answered immediately. You had the main number for close to every rehab center in the city saved in your phone for precisely this eventuality.

“Klaus?!” you answered expectantly. “y/n! Oh, how I’ve missed your voice!” You ignored him and got right to the point. “Where have you been?” “Oh, here and there. Rehab, mostly.” Well, that explained his absence, but not the lack of calls. “Why haven’t I heard from you? I was worried.” You still were, honestly, but decided to leave that part out. “Oh, you know, reasons.” It was painfully apparent that he was leaving something out. “Anyways! Got any plans for next Friday?” “Do you need someone to pick you up?” “Excellent deduction skills, y/n.” “Thank you. What time?” “Noon, Lakeshore Hills. Be there or be square!” You grinned, grateful that he couldn’t see you smiling at his joke. “Okay, Klaus.” “Great, thank you. Goodbye!” “Wait!-” the line clicked and went dead, leaving you with some answers and even more questions.

You still hadn’t heard from Klaus in the past week, but you tried not to hold that against him. Someone from the rehab center had called you a few days ago to confirm that you were Klaus’s designated pick-up, which was one of many hints that something wasn’t right. You were often there to pick him up, but it was seldom that it was required. The front doors burst open. “y/n!” Klaus was beaming as he jumped over the front steps. “Hey, Klaus.” You had planned on scolding him and asking questions but forgot as soon as you saw him. “It’s so good to see you!” He pulled you into a giant hug, and the feathery trim of his coat tickled your cheek. “Mr. Hargreeves!” you heard from the door, “Mr. Hargeeves, wait! We still need you and your escort to sign discharge papers.” He pulled away and cocked an eyebrow at you, “Oooh, escort…” he purred. “How scandalous,” you joked before turning to the nurse. “Forgive him.” You walked with Klaus back to the building, signed the papers, and then left, for real this time. When you finally got back to the car, he seemed to sink into the passenger’s seat, slumping into it and propping his feet up on the dashboard in front of him, plastic hospital bracelet dangling from his wrist. You tried to keep your eyes on the road, but couldn’t help sneaking a glance at him. The lines of exhaustion were written clearly all over his face. “So,” you started. “You look… unwell.” “I have my reasons.” He shot you a nonchalant grin that didn’t seem to fit the mood, but oh well. You turned off the main road and were only a few streets away from Klaus’s apartment when he stopped you. “Ooooh, wait, I have a huge favor to ask of you.” He sat up a little straighter. “Okay? Shoot.” “Well, I got evicted, so-” “You what?!” Well, that was quite the bombshell. “I was kicked out! My lease is no more, it’s passed on, gone to meet its maker, it’s an ex-lease, whatever.” He gestured dramatically into thin air. You persisted, “When did this happen?” “While I was in rehab,” he admitted quietly. He still seemed to be hiding something, though, which worried you. “Is that even legal? Can they do that?” “Uuuuhhhh....” he tried to stall, but you shot him an incredibly motivating glare. “Alright, fine. I may or may not have neglected to pay my rent, and upon further inquiry was found severely passed out.” Excuse you? What was that supposed to mean? If you weren’t worried before (which you had been), you were now. “What? Did you-” “On the upside, it was the closest I’ve been to actually seeing Ben in years!” He brushed you off with an even more cryptic admission. “Oh my god, Klaus, what do you mean?” You could feel your heart sinking lower and lower in your chest as he continued to ignore your questions. “That I definitely need a place to stay.” You had already turned around and started driving back to your place. “No, I meant-“ “Do you mind, (Y/N), if I used your couch for a while, pretty pleaaaase?” That exhaustion from earlier was peeking through his resolve, and you could see how much he just needed to sleep, to rest. Maybe he would talk about it later. “Fine,” you acquiesced, hoping this wouldn’t bite you in the ass later. “Yay! Thank you, y/n!” He clapped his hands triumphantly and blew joyful kisses at you until you finally smiled.

The rest of the car ride involved minimal chatter as you tried to process what he had told you. It was incredibly serious. From what you could tell, going over his words again and again in your head, ‘severely passed out,’ ‘closest to actually seeing Ben in years,’ he had OD’d, and not in his typical wake-up-in-the-ambulance fashion. You knew that he could see and talk to Ben, at least when he was mostly sober, so being closer to him than he had been in years meant something different. How were you only hearing about this now? Since he had just gotten out of rehab, this had to have been at the very least a month ago. Klaus could have realistically, actually died. Your mind raced with possibilities and questions, but most of all, you just wanted to make sure he would be okay. He had to be. You made an odd pair, you being a somewhat put together, mostly functioning adult, and him being a clingy junkie whose life was perpetually in shambles. Still, you couldn’t imagine your world without him in it. He was your best friend, the person you cared about more than your self-preservation instincts wanted to allow. You saw so much more in him than he could ever imagine. Without him… you didn’t even want to entertain the notion. You were all about being prepared, but this was too real. You couldn’t think those thoughts and imagine that you could very well go through them all again in not too long, for real.

You got back to your apartment finally, telling Klaus you’d make space on the couch for him before going off to find pillows and blankets. He started walking backward hastily in the direction of your bathroom. “I gotta go- in the other room- to the bathroom- for a sec…” “Okay, Klaus…” It was strange, but Klaus himself was strange, and it wasn’t the weirdest thing you’d heard from him today. Klaus made sure he saw you leave the room before walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. As an addict and junkie, he’d hidden stashes everywhere. Honestly, the Hargreeves mansion would probably be worth considerably more if all the drugs hidden there were taken into account, and those stashing instincts extended to your apartment as well. Klaus stared intently at the tile walls of your bathroom, looking for the one that was slightly out of place. He found it above the toilet, a few tiles down from the ceiling.

You returned to the living room, placing down your gathered things before sitting beside them, melting into the couch, exhausted, as Klaus had done in your car. With him momentarily gone, you had some space to think- and break down. You let out a quiet sob. And then another. You had been so close to losing Klaus and knew that it would, in all likelihood, only happen again. And again. And again. You needed to be there for him and make him see how much he meant to you, but he was once more approaching rock bottom, and you didn’t know if you could take it this time. A painful tension built in your chest as you tried to keep some semblance of composure, but sobs kept bubbling up and the hurt kept ripping through you. So, head in hands, you curled up, pulling yourself closer and closer inward.

Klaus was standing on your toilet, carefully and quietly removing a loose wall tile. “Bingooo!” he whispered with levity. “This is a bad idea,” Ben spoke, suddenly appearing in your bathroom. “Oh, Ben, lovely to see you. Bye now!” Ben glared indignantly as Klaus wiggled his fingers and un-summoned him. “Wha- Klaus!” “Toodles!” And with that, Ben disappeared. He was replacing the tile, pill bottle in hand, when he heard a sound coming from the living room. He froze, listening. He had learned many things during the decade and a half he spent under the instruction of Reginald Hargreeves, one being the importance of gathering intel. When faced with an unfamiliar environment or sound, listen, stay still, and wait. Figure out what it is before proceeding. But, being perfectly honest, Klaus wasn’t thinking about his childhood superhero training at that moment, he was far more concerned with being caught. Nevertheless, the sound became clearer as he focused on it, and he could eventually make out sniffling and- crying? Shoving the pills into his coat pocket, he leaned down and steadied himself on the counter before slowly stepping off the toilet, being careful to ensure that the rubber soles of his shoes didn’t squeak. He unlocked the bathroom as quietly as possible and crept into the doorway to see what was wrong. Something in his heart broke. The crying slowed to fitful sniffles, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the tears still shining in your red eyes and on your cheeks. The pill bottle felt unrealistically heavy in his pocket as his stomach dropped right down to his feet, leaving only sickening embarrassment and shame. He felt like a complete and utter piece of shit. He tried to let it pass, but it just kept washing over him in waves. It was difficult, but even more so was trying to keep that fear and guilt from showing in his voice as he spoke up. “y/n?” Surprised and a little startled by his sudden appearance, you turned around and made attempts to wipe your eyes dry, but it was too late. And you both knew it. You tried not to look at him as he crossed the room and sat beside you, very contained and un-Klaus-like. By contrast, he couldn’t tear his eyes from you and couldn’t stop feeling like shit. Then you turned to him, perking up and putting on a thinly veiled smile, the tone of your voice too cheery to be sincere. “Hey, Klaus, what’s up?” The furious drying had only worsened the redness of your eyes as you continued to look like a vision of sorrow. “Well, I saw you crying. So that’s something.” You should’ve known that he understood you too well to be fooled that easily. And he was right. Your smile broke, eyebrows furrowing into a painful look of grief. “Are you alright?” he knew his words were hollow. It was more than obvious that you weren’t alright, but he didn’t want to point out or confirm why. You slumped back into the couch, looking defeated. This was difficult to say. “It’s… hard. To see you so determined to destroy yourself.” You stopped there, wanting to be strong, unwaveringly stable, worried that Klaus would lose all motivation if your faith in him wasn’t absolute. But feelings and emotions aren’t that simple. Klaus relied strongly on you to ground him, to provide a baseline and a home, but he was well aware of his failure to maintain any and all relationships and didn’t expect much beyond that. And besides, he was used to letting people down and had been able to see your weariness with him grow considerably over the past few months. And you- you were tired. The fuel of your optimism and hope had gone completely dry, and you were running on empty. You wanted to believe he could and would stay sober but you just didn’t anymore. There was the occasional good day or two, but they never lasted. He didn’t know what to do, what he could say, to make it better. So he went with the next best thing, sincerity. He reached out for your hand, both to steady himself and to let you know how much he meant what he was about to say. “I’m sorry,” he whispered through a broken voice. It was small and nearly silent, but you appreciated it far more than any speech or string of excuses. It was real and genuine. Letting go of your hand, he reached an arm out to bring you close, and you understood. He nestled his head into the crook of your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You spoke no words. You didn’t need to. Sincerity was a lot more difficult for Klaus than his usual flippancy and nonchalance, and you were both too drained to continue talking anyway. You just held onto each other.

That night, you went to your room while Klaus tried to settle into the couch. He lay there, unable to fall asleep. Time ticked on, and he could do nothing but stay awake. He was on his back, one hand resting on his stomach and the other behind the pillow under his head. He was lucky that your apartment wasn’t as haunted as it could be. But time is long, and the dead are plenty, so Klaus was never without his demons. They whispered in the back of his mind, very quietly, barely there. But it was hard not to hear them, and it was worse when he closed his eyes. The long-gone and less unsettled spirits that he had a harder time conjuring visually had almost no trouble simply projecting their likenesses into his mind. They called for him, reaching out through him, into him, all around him. He could almost feel their clammy hands plastered all over his skin, suffocating him, dragging him back down with them. Breathless, utterly exhausted, and entirely unable to sleep, Klaus sat up and walked to your room. He didn’t quite know what he was doing and, feeling odd just standing in the doorway, crept closer to you and whispered your name. “Klaus?” You were groggy and confused but awake. “Wakey wakey,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light. “What is it? Is something wrong?” He didn’t look great, his mussed up hair flying off in countless directions. Dark circles loomed under his wide, fearful eyes. “I was wondering if I could… uh… maybe stay with you?” “Of course,” you patted the space next to you, and he climbed into bed gratefully. At first, you were just lying next to each other, but as he got more comfortable and you settled down again, his hand naturally found yours. Once you were holding hands, it only made sense to scooch closer to each other. You were both tired and needed comforting. Consequences be damned. Before long, he was on his side, arms wrapped around you while you lay against him, nestled into his chest. He placed a small kiss on your forehead, and you smiled lazily, knowing that he was doing the same. You couldn’t help but love the feeling of his skin against yours, his body beside you, solid and warm and wholesome.

He was still there, still entangled, when you awoke the next morning. You let yourself enjoy his peaceful expression for a few moments. Time didn’t seem to pass as you lay there with him. As far as you were concerned, you had always been here, sleepy and happy in the soft morning light, and always would be. Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself, and you reached up a hand to touch his cheek. His eyes opened, greeting you with tender green, and he smiled. “What a beautiful way to wake up.” You refrained from giggling but definitely felt like it. “Hello to you, too.” You dropped your hand from his face, letting it fall into the small space between you. “How about we do all this again in, hmmm, ten minutes.” He pulled you closer. “You didn’t get any sleep at all on the couch, did you?” You wondered with some concern He closed his eyes, “Nope.” “I’ll make us breakfast,” you decided, trying to sit up but finding his arms inextricably wrapped around your waist. “Hmmph,” he groaned in protest. “I’ll make coffee, too,” you reasoned, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead, which seemed to placate him. His grip slackened, and you untangled yourself. You got up, put on some more appropriate clothes than your grungy pajamas, and took one last look at him before leaving the room. Klaus appeared to belong there, in your bed, curled up under your comforter and looking more serene than you could ever recall having seen him before.

Breakfast smelled delicious, but what actually got Klaus to leave the perfect comfort of your bed was the wafting scent of coffee. Uppers had always been his drug of choice, so anything energizing was always a must when attempting sobriety. He wandered into the kitchen, still in the shorts and small tee he’d slept in. “Good morning, Klaus.” “Good morning, coffee,” he joked, pretending to ignore you while pouring himself a cup. You raised your spatula in warning, and he chuckled nervously. “Haha, just kidding, good morning to you, too.” He set down the coffee slowly, and you returned to the breakfast still in progress. “Did you finally get to sleep?” Klaus wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind, “Yes, thank you.” He placed a kiss on your cheek before grabbing his coffee and sitting down at your small table. It was the largest one you could find to fit in your tiny apartment, and yet still only seated two. You joined him a few minutes later with two plates of food. You ate in silence. The morning had gone well so far, blissfully, even, but your short conversation and crying session from yesterday still loomed large. You just wanted to forget about it and move on. But Klaus, in that moment, was acutely aware of the pills still tucked into his coat pocket across the room. “Listen, about my breakdown yesterday-” you began. Klaus perked up at the mention of it, “Oh, yes, we really should talk about that.” “What? No-” now it was your turn to chuckle nervously, “just forget about it, really.” “We both know that’s not how this works.” He looked at you pleadingly, and it didn’t take much for you to give in. If Klaus wanted to talk seriously, then you wanted to let him. “Fine,” your voice became softer. “I understand if you don’t want to share details, but from what I can piece together, something dangerously serious happened a month ago, and you didn’t tell me until yesterday.” He set down his empty coffee cup. “Not my finest moment.” You could tell that he was still avoiding talking about it directly. “I don’t want to lose you, Klaus, I can’t lose you, can’t you see that?” He nodded solemnly. “And to think that it could just happen, that I could just wake up one morning and you’d be-” you couldn’t say it, but you knew he understood. “That’s terrifying.” “I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t know how to make you stay after I told you,” he admitted. It hurt knowing you had to tell him how exhausted you were. “I really do want to…” You didn’t even have to say it, the ‘but’ hung in the air between you, bounding back and forth like a toxic little ping pong ball of doubt. “You know, the very first time I went to rehab, all of my siblings were there to pick me up. Even Ben, spectrally. It didn’t take long for me to relapse, and it didn’t take much longer for them to stop coming. You’re the only one who’s still here.” “It's so hard, Klaus, and I’m so tired.” You were trying not to cry at this point. “I know.” You could hear his voice break. Was this conversation hurting him as much as it hurt you? “I care so much, and I don’t know how to make you see that, or protect your, or- or do anything at all. I don’t know what to do!” You felt like crap for lashing out, for blaming him when he seemed almost as powerless as you. “No one’s perfect, y/n.” His eyes began to water, too, threatening to turn into tears. “I know it’s not easy, and I’m so sorry.” It was incredibly painful for him to imagine you leaving. He wanted to stand up and scream, to yell, do something, anything, to make you understand that you were all he needed, but he didn’t have the words for it. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were still trying to process what he had said about his siblings. You knew all of them and their contentious relationships pretty well, so it didn’t surprise you that they seldom turned up in his hour of need, but it hadn’t yet occurred to you that they should. When you realized how much it would mean to him if even one of them was there just to pick him up, you realized how little he expected the people around him to do, and how significant your presence alone must have been. You had wanted to be strong for him, to be as good as possible, and as supportive as possible, whatever he needed. But all he needed was you. You smiled at him gently as you realized this. “If all you need is for me to be there, then I will always be there.” Relief flooded him, and in a heated moment, he lunged forward and pulled you into a kiss. It took you by surprise, your heart practically bursting out of your chest, but you quickly melted into him. Klaus had cursed himself for his impulsiveness at first, but all that drifted away when you kissed back. The feeling of your lips on his, the way you seemed to meld into him, readily greeting his fervor ardently and earnestly. Your hands found their way to his chest as he cupped your face. It was intoxicating, and you were both out of breath when you finally pulled away, still so close that you might as well be touching. “Thank you,” he breathed. You could tell that he meant it for your comfort and support, as well as the kiss. You laughed, breathlessly, as the pressure and tension left you, leaning down to rest your head on his chest. He joined you, grinning and giggling in relief and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Kisses between you and Klaus weren’t typical, but they had happened before. It was something you didn’t speak about, but that added a whole other layer of complexity to your relationship. You cared about Klaus, more profoundly than you’d ever cared about another person. You shared something. Whether that practically soul-binding connection was platonic or romantic had yet to be fully decided. But you knew two things, and they kept you going. You loved him, and he cared deeply for you. What you lacked the emotional intelligence to realize, of course, was that while close friends could indeed enjoy the occasional platonic kiss, emotionally charged near-makeout sessions typically signified, you know, romantic feelings. “I’m going to go have a smoke, wanna join me?” He asked once you had both settled down. “Sure.” You couldn’t say that you supported his smoking habit, but you far preferred it to drugs or drinking, so you had no objections. You cleared the dishes as Klaus gathered his things. Putting on his coat, he stuck his hand into his pocket and remembered the pills he retrieved yesterday. Ben noticed. “In the spirit of being honest, you know, now would be a great time to tell her about the pills you still have.” He didn’t want to lose your trust (or, secondarily, his sobriety), but also couldn’t quite bring himself to get rid of them. He knew this was a dangerous game, but recovery is supposed to be a process, right? Right? “Recovery is not short and sweet. It is a lifelong process,” Klaus quoted. “That’s what the poster says, at least.” “It would probably be easier if you didn’t keep pills in your pocket.” “Shut up, Ben!” He hissed, trying not to catch your attention.

You followed him outside, sitting next to him on the stairs out front of your apartment as he pulled out a lighter and cigarette. He sighed after taking the first drag, grateful for the rush of nicotine. Wonderful nicotine. It would have to take the place of other inebriants for the time being, so he tried to savor it. “Feel good?” you asked, mocking him slightly. “Oooooh yeah,” he smiled, putting an arm around your shoulder. You leaned into it instinctively, letting your head rest against his shoulder. You enjoyed Klaus’s little moments. He may have a tendency to hurt you and push away the people around him, but he did care. He cared deeply, and you loved when he showed it. Then he decided to break the silence. “Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I waxed my ass with chocolate pudding?” He sounded serious, genuinely concerned as to whether or not you had heard the sordid tale. “No, EW!” “It was painful,” he continued, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Klaus, what?!” He chuckled quietly to himself at your exasperation.

The pill bottle remained in his left coat pocket for the next week. Life with you was practically blissful, he wished it would last forever- and wondered why he hadn’t yet had the guts to make whatever you had official. It turns out leaving things abstract and unlabeled is a lot more complicated in practice. But it was Klaus’s feelings towards relationships that were complicated, not his feelings towards you. Committed relationships were honestly terrifying to him, unsurprising for someone who grew up steeped in what could essentially be called a non-committal home life where traditional familial relationships were simultaneously enforced, through the very conventional loving-wife-and-mother Mombot and disallowing of inter-sibling romantic pursuits, like with Allison and Luther, but also condemned through a dehumanizing number system to replace names, traumatic isolation during training, and the calculated creation of a team dynamic to replace the fractured sibling bonds. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. But you- he knew how he felt about you. He loved you and had very recently come to the realization that he had for years. But even that was yet another reason to not commit. He felt incredibly guilty as it was, factoring in an actual relationship where you would feel obligated to stay with him was a whole new order of magnitude. But he was even more worried that if your relationship became more concrete, his inability to handle commitment would jeopardize everything.

You endeavored to clean up one morning. The blanket and pillow from Klaus’s first night here remained on the couch, though he had only used them once. It was while moving his coat out of the way that you heard an all too familiar rattle. You froze and hoped against all hope that it wasn’t what you thought it was. You stood up slowly, trying to put off the inevitable, before reaching your hand into the pocket and pulling out a bottle of immediately recognizable small, colorful pills. You felt angry, wretched, and wracked your brain to try and retroactively see the warning signs. A small yet venomous voice blamed you for not noticing sooner, for becoming complacent. You tried not to listen. It was difficult. The front door opened while you were still standing there. It was Klaus, back from a quick trip to the nearest convenience store for a pack of cigarettes, which he had been smoking more and more of lately in an attempt to quell the urges of addiction. “Darling, I’m hoooome!” he purred, closing the door. “I got-” he saw you holding his coat and the bottle of pills and stopped dead in his tracks, one hand still on the doorknob. He glanced up at your face for one horrible moment before turning away and biting his lip, waiting for you to say something. “You left your coat,” you pointed out as explanation. “Oh. I see.” You knew Klaus so well, but it was impossible to guess what he was thinking when the entire past week of what you had believed to be sincerity was called into question. “How could you?” You whispered, wanting an explanation but feeling woefully unprepared to hear it. You were hurt, horribly. Your chest burned with pain, your mind raced with barely comprehensible thoughts, mostly vague emotions, sinking feelings, and hurt. A lot of hurt. He looked pained and defeated, stepping forward tentatively and holding his hands out. “Please, y/n, I can explain.” “Klaus…” you whimpered, tearing up despite your best efforts. “Just listen to me, please, just listen!” “Don’t.” you pleaded. It was agonizing to watch him try and reason again and again. You’d heard everything a thousand times before. “Please! Please, I’m sober, I swear!” you looked at him incredulously and his tone softened. “I’m telling you the truth.” You told yourself that you wanted to believe him, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. You sighed and glanced away. “Y/n, I’m sober! I’m not lying to you, please!” “I don’t know how to believe you,” you admitted. It was difficult to say, so difficult. But it was the truth. Klaus was quiet, not offended, really, just disappointed- in himself. What was he supposed to expect? Only a week out of rehab and already caught keeping a bottle of pills in his pocket, even if he hadn’t used them. He wanted to make you understand, but he didn’t have the words to tell the truth without making it sound like he was lying. “You reeeaaally should have thrown those out,” Ben chimed. “Please trust me, (y/n), there’s a perfectly semi-reasonable explanation.” You raised an eyebrow. “Sure, they’ve been in my pocket for a week, but-” “A week?! You’ve only been out of rehab for a week!” It didn’t stop hurting. The thing that felt like a hole in your chest just kept growing and growing as you watched him struggle over your words and wince at your reactions. “Oh, no. No no no, it’s not what you think.” He was bewildered. “This whole time? You’ve had these this whole time?!” You couldn’t stop yourself as your thoughts spiraled. He grimaced and squirmed a little, not wanting to answer. “Well…” “Really, Klaus?! Really?” How much of this past week had been a lie, you wondered, how much of it had been sincere? Was he more comfortable with you because you were making progress, or was he just high? Your head spun and it hurt to think about. He couldn’t do anything but watch, horrified as you dropped the coat, grabbed your phone, and strode out of the apartment, still holding the pills. He couldn’t summon up the right words or actions to make you stop and listen. It felt like his mind was disassembling, falling apart. As soon as you closed the door, he broke down, holding the sides of his head and screaming. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity FUCK!” You could hear him through the door, and it tore at you. “Damn it, NO! No no no nononono! FUCK!” You wanted to think that this was warranted, that it made sense to be angry, but you couldn’t shake the immense guilt, the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You tore yourself away and started walking. You decided to call Diego, whom you knew was also pretty used to Klaus’s antics. “C’mon, Diego. Please pick up…” He did. “Y/n! Hey, what’s up?” You hadn’t spoken to Diego in a while. He sounded good. “It’s-” you hesitated, finding it hard to say and unaware of how much he knew. Most likely, nothing. “It’s about Klaus.” “Oh.” It was a loaded explanation. Diego sighed. “What is it this time?” “Where do I even begin?” You asked, realizing you probably should have thought this through more. “At the beginning,” he responded. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and figure out what to say. “So, twelve years ago, you met Klaus-” You surprised yourself by laughing. “Okay, not that beginning,” he conceded. It was calming to hear from someone who wasn’t actively freaking out. “It was two weeks ago. I got a call from Lakeshore. It was Klaus, in rehab again and getting out in a week.” “Surprise, surprise,” he interjected sarcastically. “No, just- listen.” You tried to impress on Diego the gravity of what you were telling him, what was so different about this time. “So I went to pick him up last week, and on the drive back to his place he tells me that he got evicted and needed somewhere to stay.” “Also not really a surprise-” “Diego!” You insisted. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll shut up.” You continued, “The way he explained it, he was a few months behind on rent and when his landlord came to collect, they found him quote-unquote ‘severely passed out’.” Diego was silent, which you were grateful for. “So he OD’d a month ago and I only found out about it last week. “I’m sorry, (y/n), but you know him.” He probably believed you were just venting, but this was so much more than that. “He said it was the closest he’s been to seeing Ben in years.” “Woah.” He finally understood. “I’m so tired, Diego. So tired.” You were near defeat. “I know. You’re the only one left still putting up with his shit.” You chose to ignore that. “So we talked, and he apologized. It seemed sincere. We talked again the next day, and then it was honestly kind of wonderful. He was back to his old self. He has been all week.” The line went quiet for a few moments. “What happened?” There was no judgment in Diego’s tone. Just sympathy. You stopped walking, and, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your voice began to crack. “I found a bottle of pills in his pocket today,” you could hear Diego sigh on the other end, “and he’s apparently had them this entire week.” “Oh my god, that little SHIT!” You heard the telltale whoosh and thunk of Diego throwing a knife in some instinctive burst of anger. “He insists that he’s sober, but I have no idea if I can believe him.” You looked around for a bench or some stairs. Your feet ached, your head ached, your soul ached. You needed to sit down. “Where are you? I am coming over there right the fuck now and dealing with this.” “No, Diego, please. I’m not at the apartment. I had to get out of there.” You understood why he felt protective, but it wasn’t what you needed right now. You needed everything to be okay, even though it wasn’t. Diego’s more aggressive tactics weren’t going to fix anything. “Well then, where are you?” He had started to sound worried. “I’m just walking. I left Klaus at my place. I don’t know if he’s still there or not.” You spotted a bench outside of a park just down the street and made a beeline for it. “Tell me the street. I can be there in four minutes and fifty-three seconds.” His determination was sweet. “Please don’t. I just- I need to figure this out.” You finally sat down, cross-legged because you honestly felt like curling into a ball right about now. Diego thought for a moment, ultimately deciding that it was better to let you talk to him than to intervene on your behalf. “Fine. What makes you believe him?” This was something you and Diego did fairly often, your very own twisted pro and con lists, stacking up the evidence for Klaus versus the evidence against Klaus. “Well, he didn’t try to stop me or make a grab for the dope when I left, he didn’t plead or beg, he just tried to get me to listen to him, which I now realize I utterly failed to do. And the bottle’s pretty full, so I doubt he could have had this for a whole week already. The label’s also from a while ago, but who knows if that actually means anything. And Diego, I have to believe he was being sincere when we talked. I have to.” Diego was silent for a while. “And the evidence against him?” You took another deep breath. “The pills I found in his pocket, the fact that he’s had them this entire time, and- ohmygod, I just remembered something.” A memory flashed into your mind, feeding the sinking feeling that pervaded your senses. “What?” Diego’s tone betrayed his concern. “He hasn’t been acting shifty or running off without explanation. He’s barely been out of my sight this whole week, but after I picked him up, the second we got back to my place, he made some lame excuse about having to do something in another room or go to the bathroom. I just remembered it now. It’s the kind of shit he says when he’s getting high or stashing stuff.” It was true and only served to fuel the nervousness that made you want to scream. You sniffled, trying to ignore the passing glances of strangers. “When was this?” He still sounded sympathetic. “Right when we got home.” When we got home. It’s funny what you say when you’re not thinking about it. Diego was silent for a long time. “Diego? Are you still there?” “Talk to him.” He spoke finally. “See what he has to say for himself.” It was a surprise to hear Diego even remotely on Klaus’ side, but you were grateful. “Okay. Thank you.” You said your goodbyes. Diego reminded you that he could be anywhere in the city in under five minutes and told you to call him back later. You sat there for a few moments, alone, with just your phone in hand and endless thoughts in your mind. You felt wrong for having left Klaus to his own horrible devices while he was clearly falling to pieces, but simultaneously angry at him for doing this to you and for seemingly disregarding everything you had been trying to tell him for the past week. Above all, you just felt pain, and you knew Klaus was the reason why, even if he didn’t want to be. You got up and started to walk back. Passing a trash can by an intersection, you made a split-second decision to throw out the pills.

Finally back at the apartment, you stopped before your front door, scared to open it. You took a deep, though shaky, breath to steady and brace yourself. You’d had versions of this conversation countless times, and you knew it was more than likely that you would again in the future. You assured yourself that even if he wasn’t sober, he would be okay. You just needed to stay with him, to let him know you were there, and hope it would be enough. You opened the door. Klaus was pacing circles around the room with a lit cigarette smoldering between his fingers. A window was cracked open, which you knew was as far as it would go. The bag he brought back from the convenience store sat on the table with the contents, two boxes of cigarettes, dumped out next to an ashtray. One box lay open, and several cigarettes were missing. The open window was a nice touch. “y/n.” He noticed you immediately and stopped pacing. “Hey.” You smiled softly. “I’m sorry I walked out, I shouldn’t have.” Klaus hadn’t moved yet. He stood still, his eyes following you with restless longing. He finally reached down and snuffed out the cigarette, leaving the rest of it in the ashtray. “Did you call Diego?” he asked, trying to piece together why you left. “Yes,” you responded. Klaus looked a little scared and started to reach for his coat, “but he told me to listen to you, which I’m going to do.” “Oh! That’s a surprise!” Klaus looked pleased. He also looked much more contained than you’d ever seen him before, but the red eyes and disheveled hair told a different story. He sat down on the couch, and you sat beside him. “You had an explanation?” “Yes,” he nodded, fidgeting before working up the nerve to speak. “Well… a long while ago, which was not that long ago, I may have- well, I did- hide some drugs here, in your apartment.” Your eyes widened, and he winced. “Specifically, behind a loose tile in the bathroom.” You knew where he was going with that, “The pills that were in your pocket.” “Bingo!” He flashed a small, somber smile. “This doesn’t paint me in the most flattering light, but I had no intention of staying sober when you picked me up last week. Then I… heard you. I felt like a real piece of shit.” “Oh.” It was a lot to process. He was starting to fidget more, and you could see his eyes watering, threatening tears. “I am so sorry, y/n.” He was starting to break down. “But I didn’t take any, I swear!” “Why did you still have them?” You asked, earnestly trying to maintain composure. He ran his hands through his hair. “I couldn’t-” Klaus looked tortured. He was terrified you wouldn’t believe him. “I couldn’t bring myself to toss them.” It came out as a whisper. “Klaus…” “I know it was shitty, and Ben’s been harping at me to do it all week-” “I threw them out,” you admitted, and watched for his reaction. He breathed out a massive sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god.” You put a hand to your mouth as you realized he was telling the truth. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” you choked, trying not to let your voice break. “Hey hey hey, no hard feelings!” He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, and you placed your head on his chest. “You’re here, that’s all that matters.” “She really cares about you, Klaus, maybe you should stop hurting her,” Ben said. Klaus glared at him, but the words did have an effect. “I’m really proud of you, Klaus,” you whispered. That seemed to give him the impetus he needed. You were confused for a moment as he pulled away from you, but then he tilted his head down and kissed you. You froze briefly, because this already felt different than the other times you had kissed. Then you accepted it, hanging your arms around his shoulders. He leaned in closer to you and placed a hand on your cheek, stroking softly back and forth with his thumb. You tried to deepen the kiss, running your hand through his soft curls, and he let you. He let you. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. This was love. Chaotic and confused and messy, but love. He pulled away, arms still around you as you stared past him in disbelief. “Oh my god,” you whispered breathlessly. You noticed, then, that one of his hands had wandered to your waist and, having hiked up your shirt slightly, was pressed against the small of your back. The warmth of his hand on your skin, the feeling of him touching you, was euphoric. “You felt something, too, right?” He asked in a dazed tone, somehow sounding both soft and desperate at the same time. You looked up at him, into his eyes, and found something reflected back at you that was remarkably familiar. It was a feeling. “Yes.” You almost laughed, almost cried. You felt like bursting. Leaning, almost lunging, forward, you kissed him once again, crashing and falling back into him. His lips on yours, your hands on him, his arms around you, his breath on your skin. You were intoxicated, you were engulfed, you were in love.

You weren’t sure how, but when you finally looked up from each other to notice your surroundings, it was night. Holding onto one another, you made it across the dark and quiet apartment and found your way back to your bed together. You found yourself pulled into his embrace, and you also found yourself accepting it willingly. You were facing him, head resting on his arm and nestled against him. His chest was so close to you, so warm under your fingers. It was a familiar warmth to be close to him, the same smells, of eyeliner and cigarettes, the same steady sound of his breathing, the same sparks every time his skin brushed against yours. You couldn’t possibly dream of falling asleep now. “y/n?” he spoke in barely more than a whisper. “Hmm?” you hummed in response. “I’m sorry.” It was a small few words, but you knew how intently he meant it. Tilting your head up to find him just as wide-eyed and awake as you were, you knew that it was now or never. “You should know something, Klaus.” You looked away from him again, knowing that what you were about to say would be difficult. “What?” He began tracing small circles in your shoulder. You breathed, in and out, and began. “I didn’t want to think that you’d been numb all week, that everything you said had been a lie, that you cared that little. But even then, I couldn’t imagine not staying to help you, because I had to know that you would be okay because I-” You stopped, words caught in your throat. “Because you what?” He already knew what you were about to say. “Because I love you,” you admitted, heart pounding and thoughts raw with vulnerability. You felt a hand on your cheek, tilting your face upwards and tugging you back into the reality you had to face. You didn’t want to look up or see him until you felt his lips brush softly against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he did it again, kissing you gently and earnestly. “I love you, too,” he mumbled into the kiss. Your heart flipped and soared. You pulled away for just a moment. “Say it again.” He did, immediately, with an easy smile, “I love you.” You began kissing again, and he whispered, “Your turn.” “I love you, Klaus.” You could feel him smiling as he tugged you closer. It was wonderful, it was perfect.

#My first tua fanfiction!#It felt nice to finally be writing again #and to try out some new characters #tua #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #tua fanfiction #klaus fanfiction #klaus x reader #klaus #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus imagines #klaus hargreeves imagines #the umbrella academy imagines #tua imagines

126 notes · View notes

hectabdr · 4 years ago

Text

Dragon Raja IV - Chapters 5 & 6 (Abridged)

Good evening (or morning, maybe?). Here are today's summarized chapters from the fourth novel.

Previous chapters (3 & 4)

For more source-material related stuff, check the new Index.

Chapter 5

Nono woke up in the backseat of a car. Initially she thought she was kidnapped, but by who?

Maybe the school infiltrated the Iris academy and took her prisoner, they must think she's a conspirator. She tried to remember her training, the first step was to stay calm, then, she had to analyze her surroundings. The bumps in the road and the speed indicated that she was probably in a highway. The weather belonged to a subtropical region and the strong tobacco smell was similar to...

-Your friend is a lazy-ass isn't she?

-Why would you say that?

-I gave her a sedative that should last at most 24 hours, but she's been sleeping for 30 hours!

...Finger!

She had managed to untie one of her hands already and now she wasn't afraid to reveal that she was awake. She used the rope to choke Finger and started beating both of them up out of anger. A police officer noticed their little exchange and ordered Finger to stop. Nono decided to play along, after all, this wasn't the right moment to put both of them in jail, despite how nice that sounded at the moment, deep down she wanted to believe Luminous.

The three were just entering to the city of Beijing and Nono agreed to help them begrudgingly. Finger's first idea was to search for Johann Chu's traces in the high school where he and Luminous studied years ago. Nono refused to get out of the car unless they bought her some clothes, since she was still wearing a night gown. Finger bought her a school uniform because there were no department stores nearby.

The place was heavily remodeled, now it had two statues in the entrance, one of which looked remarkably similar to Luminous. The school was holding an event that day and Luminous accidentally bumped into Chen Wenwen, his old crush. He thought he had erased her completely from his mind, but there she was again, and to his surprise, she was incredibly shy in his presence, blushing and stuttering, she even called him "Senior brother".

It wasn't only Wenwen, the rest of his literature club were acting the same way. Zhao Menghua and Wenwen were still dating in this new world, but he seemed extremely uncomfortable, it looked like he saw himself as second fiddle, he even stepped back to let the "old lovers" talk like some gentleman. Su-Xiaoyao, the school princess who used to compete with Wenwen for Menghua's attention before, now seemed to ignore the latter completely, she even called him "brother Mingfei". They were all there for a school anniversary event.

He found himself on the honorary lists as the highest ranking graduate and even as a basketball star, wearing the very same 'number 11' jersey that previously belonged to Johann. Luminous realized something, he had taken Johann's place in a world where he didn't exist. The statue in the school's entrance was actually built in his honor, it had his face indeed.

The principal asked him to give a speech to a crowd of admiring parents. It was raining, but people with umbrellas respectfully waited for him to finish reading the cards that the principal wrote for him. As the speech came to a close, he was surprised to see his uncle, happily applauding under the rain.

It had been two years since the last time he saw him, back then, he had an argument with his aunt and he never came back to Beijing after that. His uncle invited the principal and Luminous's classmates to attend a small celebration at the restaurant where he worked.

The party was a compliment fest for him, and as everyone got more and more drunk, Wenwen and Su Xiaoyao rested on both of his arms while Nono rolled her eyes. A little overwhelmed, he decided to leave momentarily and get some fresh air in the roof.

His drunk uncle reached him and tried to have a heart to heart conversation with him, with the occasional interruption to throw up in a corner. Most of the talk was centered around his future and the possibility of starting a career in China, the type of woman he'd marry and the life he hoped to have.

He turned back to say a few words but his uncle, along with the rest of the world, including the raindrops were standing still. In the middle of a paused environment, Ming·Z·Lu was siting in the shadows. In an illusion, he tossed Luminous a basketball, he realized he knew how to play the game, he was wearing Johann's Jersey and they had a brief match in the middle of the frozen rain.

Years ago, Nono made Luminous understand that, in life, choosing a door will always mean that another one is getting closed. When he chose to get on Johann's car instead of staying with Wenwen in the Aspasia restaurant, he chose Cassell over his previous life. Similarly, when Nono chose the Gattuso Family, she closed the door to Cassell. Ming·Z offered his brother to re-open this door.

For the last quarter of his life, Luminous could stay in his hometown and live the life of a local celebrity. He could date one of his former high school classmates, get a good job anywhere and drink with his uncle every week. However, Cassell would stay out of the picture forever.

Luminous asked if that meant leaving Johann behind. Ming·Z confirmed his theory, expressing that this world could only exist with his absence.

-He is my friend, if we die, we die together.

Angry, he caressed Mingze's hair right before pushing him from the top of the building, but the little devil paused his fall, floating in the air.

-I'm not a devil, brother. I'm a monster. We're all monsters and one day we'll be killed by the righteous Ultraman!

He resumed the flow of time and fell down.

Chapter 6

Finger and Luminous carried his uncle back to his house. Luminous really wanted to avoid meeting his aunt, but she opened the door before he could leave. It was awkward for a moment, so he hugged her without saying a word. She let them stay in his old room, Luminous wasn't expecting to find the place intact. His aunt kept all of his things right where he left them for the last two years.

Finger used some encryption and redirection techniques to contact his girlfriend in Cuba, asking Luminous to give him some privacy. He left his bedroom through the window, and he started walking on the streets of his hometown, the rain had only gotten worst. Suddenly, a red Ferrari stopped by.

-Get in the car, pretty boy!

It was just like three years ago, when Nono picked him up from the theater in the same car. While Luminous and Finger where drinking with his former classmates, Nono was looking for clues of what happened to Johann Chu and borrowed a car from Shao, an old contact of her family. Luminous suddenly remembered something.

Years ago, Johann's adoptive father organized him a birthday party. Since Johann didn't have any friends at school, he left an invitation in every club. Those were like golden tickets for the girls and Chen Wenwen decided to assist herself. Since every club had to bring a gift, she asked Luminous to collect some of the club's top literary works and deliver them to Johann's house during the party.

When Luminous arrived, he noticed everyone was socializing while the birthday boy grilled chicken in the corner. He looked lifeless, almost like a cooking robot. He passed the gift to Wenwen who thanked him and closed the door, leaving him outside. He walked back home and that was it. Thanks to that, Luminous knew where Johann and his mother, Su Xiaoyan used to live.

When they arrived, he recognized the house maid. Johann mentioned her a few times. He asked for his classmate, but the woman mentioned that there were no children in the house. He then asked for Su Xiaoyan, and the maid told him that she was in the hospital. After obtaining the name of the clinic from an envelope in the mailbox, Nono asked him to get in the car and they left the house.

The Sacred Heart Renai Hospital was surprisingly isolated. Since Nono was wearing a school uniform and it was the middle of the night, they made up a story: Luminous was her older brother and their car got broken on the road. They were proud of their little story but the guard was asleep when they arrived. Luminous almost woke him up to explain his made-up problem before Nono stopped him and they sneaked in.

She gave him a guard uniform that didn't fit very well and he searched for Su Xiaoyan. She was peacefully sleeping in her room and Luminous sat next to her. When she suddenly woke up and wondered why he was there, Luminous simply explained that he was covering up for a nurse, since the clinic was short on personnel and she surprisingly went along with it.

Without mentioning her son's name, he told her the story of Johann Chu, his missing friend, going through every detail, hoping that some of it would resonate with her.

The story successfully brought Xiaoyan to tears, but Luminous's sudden excitement was short lived, as said tears were not born from painful memories, but from deep felt sympathy. She said she was pregnant, hoping her future child would be as good as the guard's missing friend. Terribly disappointed, he thanked her, said goodbye and left the room.

Outside, Nono was waiting for him holding an umbrella. His eyes said everything, trying not to cry and to stay optimistic, he asked himself if anyone would look for him in case he disappeared as well.

-Finger loves you very much, he would look for you from every corner of the world.

If that Johann Chu is real, he would find you, you seem to care for each other very much.

Maybe Caesar would look for you too, he would take good care for his godson, no doubt about that.

...And if none of those useless guys managed to find you, even if you're deep in the gutter, I will bring you back.

Nono dropped the umbrella and gave her former sidekick a strong hug.

#Dragon raja #dragon raja novel #luminous #johann chu #nono #ming z lu

19 notes · View notes

starfaring-princelotor · 5 years ago

Text

First Scent

Summary: Emperor Lotor makes a full recovery.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing.

★ Warnings: N/A

Touch Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Taste Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Sight Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Scent Series: Part One

“We are all on the same side. It doesn’t have to change our future together.”

Kylan would never dare consider doubting Lotor, but he was also no fool to leave loose ends hanging, so to speak. He worked along with their leader and his intentions - his goal - was always about keeping Alteans and the invaluable culture of said race alive. Against all odds, all naysayers and doubters, he kept to it. And he succeeded.

“You enslaved countless Alteans! How many innocent lives did you destroy?!”

Slaves? No. They were not slaves. They were not treated as such. If anything, they were flourishing and well on their way to becoming a better society than the one led by King Alfor. The progress was well on the way and the future looked bright. So, what happened? He needed to hear it, needed to have the physical evidence right in front of him.

“Surely, you can see the greatness we’ve already accomplished -”

The audio distorted then, signifying Sincline was most likely damaged from an unsuspecting attack.

“-llura, stop! You and I - zzt - Altean culture. We were meant - kkzzt -”

The black box was heavily damaged. Being exposed to the elements, especially quintessence, no doubt rendered it beyond repair. Except, Kylan knew how to save the proof and secure the device for future use. Plan B. Have a backup. Always have a back up.

“You’re more like Zarkon than I could have imagined.”

He closed his eyes slowly, releasing a solemn and heavy sigh of disappointment. He wasn’t going to say he knew everything, even if the hidden picture was revealed right in front of him. No, what he has here ultimately didn’t matter in terms of putting Lotor back on the throne.

“Who are you to question my tactics - “

But it was enough to clear his name. It was enough to show that Voltron started a whole new, deadly, and severely costly war by attacking the Emperor.

They had suggested putting him in a pod to stabilize his quintessence levels. Lotor’s soul may have returned, but that doesn’t mean his body was in a relatively safe state. Logically, it made sense to use the technology at hand to quicken the process, but you convinced them to keep him on a bed instead. Convinced was putting it lightly. You wouldn’t move on your decision, even if it meant using logic as a tool to get what was best for Lotor.

“I will siphon it from him, as I do with the other patients,” you explained, “It’s safer this way.”

It was your reasoning and also what you used to convince yourself, too. Your hand was loosely holding his as the steady flow of quintessence ebbed through the contact. When he had collapsed from exhaustion in your arms, you already knew that a confined space wouldn’t do well for his recovery. He needs to wake up naturally in a comforting environment, somewhere open, somewhere...safe. You promised him that at the very least.

But the longer you stayed with him, the more you came to the haunting realization at exactly how bad it was for the Galra Emperor. His skin was shriveled, no doubt either from over exposure or the action of his soul literally being sucked out of his body. Maybe even both. But the inside is what worried you the most. Starvation. His organs were scarily dehydrated. Lotor’s system was off for so long, you weren’t sure he could even eat anything nourishing.

And, oddly enough, there were times you couldn’t...see him as a patient. You saw him as something more, something beyond just Emperor. Allowing those buried thoughts to unfurl left your stomach stirring in uneasiness.

Lotor wasn’t talkative. Recovery was slow and, sometimes, he barely woke up long enough to sip water or open his mouth for ice chips. You weren’t even sure if he was coherent enough to answer the typical questions for patients who experienced such acute delirium. Do you know who you are? Where you are? What happened?

No. No, overflowing with too much would stunt his progress. Plus, you often found yourself hesitating to even speak with him. Maybe it was wrong of you to take advantage of his illness to push your own discomfort away. If he didn't ask, you don’t need to answer. But there were urgent questions lingering between you two and you know they will come around to rear its ugly head eventually. You’ll have to face them, whether you like it or not. You’ll have to hear what he has to say. What you’ll say. What you’ll feel.

But...

Lotor first. Your thumb ran over his knuckles softly, gaze longingly focused on your conjoined hands. Lotor first. That’s how it felt like when trapped in Sincline’s…

The Black Paladin has seen many haunting horrors in his life, but nothing will be more traumatic than seeing his own body as a corpse. No...his alternate self was alive, he just looked shriveled and sick and rotten. Sunken eye sockets, skin blemishes from what he knows as quintessence burn. The bite marks, oh, there were so many torn in his suit. Different sizes, different states of decay.

But he was safe and, more importantly, alive. Now, the matter of what state his mind will be in is something not even he can help with.

“I will pass the message on to the doctor once Emperor Lotor is in stable condition,” Kylan accepted the letter handed to him by the Black Paladin then carefully slid it into his coat pocket, “Thank you, again. You have done us a great honor. Saved us all, actually.”

Yet, as much as he would like to accept such gratefulness, he couldn't help but keep his lips set in a firm line. Saved them? Or condemned them? This war in his reality wasn’t theirs to deal with, but wouldn’t it be just as neglectful and dispassionate to allow the hoktril to be exposed to other realities? A double edged sword. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

“I only hope that his return was not too late. Unfortunately, time does not appear to be on our side as of late.”

Kylan nodded in agreement, “You have your duties, we have ours. And yours must be urgent if you need to leave so soon.”

Nebulous orbs slowly closed, easily remembering the scribble he quickly jotted down for your eyes only. A message, a dire one, explaining why his leave of absence was absolutely necessary, but not for the reason anyone would assume. The Black Paladin had received a distress call, one he had not heard from in a very, very long time, and he had every intention to answer it. Sven’s voice rang in his ears clearly, as if he was standing right behind him. His hushed whispers panicked from hiding. He knows the tone well.

“I implore you to use the communication stone with utmost discretion. However, as soon as matters have settled here,” Paladin Lotor gave a wave, a vague gesture at all of this, “Let me know when your forces are ready to fight.”

He gave a noble, respectful bow. He shouldn’t have regrets, but perhaps he had one nagging the back of his head. Chewing on his tongue, he wonders if it was his cowardice that told him it was better to leave without telling you face to face.

If there was one thing Emperor Lotor despised about hospitals, it was the smell. The acute, sanitized scent of alcohol and sterilization never brought him comfort when awake. Even now, during every odd moment he would rouse from a deep comatose-like state, he found it absolutely much worse. The air was cold, chilling his nostrils, yet there was a warm blanket covering most of his body, all the way up to his shoulders. Warmth...something he cherishes now that he had the cold touch of death’s finger beckon his soul from his body.

It took days for him to realize he was alive, longer to know that the doctor had dutifully tended to his recovery. It wasn’t easy, regaining his senses and awareness. His thoughts were slow, as if relearning everything that which went dormant in his mind. Words, thoughts, actions, feelings. Feelings...like your hand gently clutched in his. Not at all unlike that memory of falling in a pit of darkness, tethered by the mere simple contact of entwined fingers.

And damn, to remember that utopia-esque simulation. Was it a simulation? It all felt too real. Too perfect, too...happy, one he thinks he will never really get to experience ever again. That love, that peaceful life, that completion. At the time, he didn't question it. Who would? But now, now as you read the holographic screen and scanned the details about his vitals in silence, he has so many to ask you.

Was it a hedonistic crime to still feel that inkling of love as he stared fondly at you?

Or maybe...that was just a lingering side-effect. A sort of after-high from being forced into an addictive drug-induced state of mind from a mere memory.

You knew he was awake. Lotor made it clear with his silent shifting, a gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, and a slight, almost quiet, groan of discontent when he felt his body ache in the worst possible ways. Part of him would've chuckled at the thought that maybe you were avoiding him, or rather, avoiding looking at him. Then another part would caution that it was wise of you to do so, for both yours and his sake.

Maybe, just like him, neither of you were ready to ask questions about the intimate life you shared. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut, both of you can pretend it didn’t happen. It was a trick. A ruse, a test. One conjured deep from within the heart’s desires and brought to the surface without warning or care.

The light above was dimmed in a cool blue hue, offering him a sense of peace and tranquility, but what really helped calm his nerves was the smell of a warm cup of hot chocolate wafting through the air. A promised treat, giving him the freedom to choose if he wanted to drink or simply hold it in his hands. And yet, he didn't reach for it.

Lotor reached for your hand. You gave it willingly, almost instinctively, and he was quite aware of how his heart beat just a little louder at the gesture. Lotor wasn’t sure he liked that or not. Well, he did, but he shouldn't. He really shouldn't because it was wrong to harbor such feelings for you considering the circumstances. But the heart wants. The heart yearns.

Lotor can control it. He swears he can.

So many unspoken words between you two, yet silence was clearly winning here. Then again, he can’t complain too much. Or at all, really. Your thumb slowly roving over his knuckles was nearly entrancing. The simple touch made his body compliant, whether because it was you or because the action itself was an unconscious act on its own, he would never find out.

You stopped suddenly then gave him a light squeeze, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be…” he paused, recalling how he felt when falling out of that cockpit, the panic, the pain, the cold, so, so cold, “fine.”

And while normally, those few words would be firm confirmation that you’ve done your job flawlessly well, you can’t help but let your heart seed doubt in your mind.

“And you, good doctor?”

Was he asking about your health or how you felt coming out of that life-like experience?

You twisted your wrist, closing the holographic screen before giving him your full attention, “Coming back to life is not what I expected, but neither was dying. It was different than-”

A twinge in your shoulder pulsed, reminding you of the last time you danced with death so romantically.

“I recovered faster than you. Kylan informed me i was gone for a mere few minutes. Clearly not long enough for all the heat to leave my body, but long enough to give him a fright.”

Lotor had a certain look behind his eyes, a certain longing for the truth. You turned away.

It’s been a week. The metaphorical wall was back up. But it wasn't just you that decided avoidance was the best course of action for now. He, too, opted to shove those unanswered questions in the back of his mind as far as he could. Lotor only wondered exactly how long he can let it fester. How long you could let it fester. Maybe the two of you were more alike than you want to admit.

When the deepest, most intimate, most raw secrets and desires surface, that exposed vulnerability suddenly becomes a dangerously choking weak point. Becomes something to fear. Becomes tangible and no longer yours to hide. But to acknowledge such a thing now? What? Were you two going to sit and talk about it? Have a coffee date and reminisce of those fake nights of feeling safe in each other’s arms?

No. It was much easier, much smarter, to stay focused on the goal. It was more important.

Was it awkward? Not at all. You dressed him in silence with careful fingers, wary that the lightest of touch could bruise his still-healing body, and he watched the concentration consume your task. Such a simple thing spoke volumes to the careful observer. Lotor was the patient. You were the doctor. Play the roles well and everything will be fine.

But just to be sure…

“We are not going to talk about this, are we?” he asked his one question, voice just a tad lower than normal, meant only for you to hear.

Slipping the new bracelet around his wrist, you waited a few moments until the indicator glowed green, “No. Not now.”

Lotor’s hands went slack at his side, a sign of obedient understanding. He offered his hand to you, not as a gesture of intimacy. It was for his health, of course. His quintessence levels were still a little high. He was sick, still out of sorts, and a full recovery only worked if kept to schedule.

For his health, you told yourself as the two of you walked out of the room hand in hand.

“Dear Esteemed Doctor,

By the time you receive this letter, I will no longer be in your reality. I have been called back with urgent news and must return post haste. Please accept my humblest apologies for the sudden leave. If I had the time, I would have stayed to offer you my aid at any cost. With your Emperor under your care, I have no doubt that the next step with our alliance will be needing as much resources and command as possible. Rallying the forces as soon as possible will be difficult, though if there is any advice I may impart with, it is this:

Galra are survivors, through and through.

When civil wars raged upon our brothers and sisters, history has repeatedly shown that it is not the toughest fighter who wins. Rather, it is the one who fights to protect the one at their side.

I look forward to seeing you once more in the near future. Please, stay safe.

Sincerely,

Lotor”

His handwriting was eloquent, not a curve or line extending awkwardly in the entire paragraph. At first glance, anyone would take in the script as romantic at face value, but the prose itself was completely opposite. He wasn’t here anymore and, as the Black Lion Paladin, of course the he had to tend to his duties. With Voltron, no doubt a shining beacon of hope for those suffering in his reality, he couldn't risk squandering his time.

You folded the letter then pocketed it in your coat, waiting for orders from Emperor Lotor, who was sitting at the helm of the ship and staring deeply off into space. Kylan had updated him about the current situation. Colonies displaced, warlords razing worlds for their own, Haggar’s search for him. That last one put him on edge. Yes, he’s well aware you worked for her, but he is also aware of your need for self-perseverance.

Or perhaps, it was for a completely different reason? If Sincline utilizes memories from souls, then he should’ve seen his mother’s memories mixed in yours, as well. Assuming, of course, you were brainwashed like his previous...

Lotor isn't such a naive fool to believe you would never lie in the face of certain death. He caught on faster than expected, knowing full well that sometimes telling people what they want to hear is for your own benefit, not theirs. Manipulation was often a tactic swept under the rug and reserved for those who were labeled as cowardice rats. Weak. Not strong enough. Not smart enough.

No. Not you, though. In the short time he’s known you, words were your choice of weapon in a fight. And apparently, his mother was desperate enough to fall for your schemes. One day, he’d compliment you on such a ruse. One day, he’ll tell you that she was actually the one who gave birth to him. How would you take it, he wonders? Anger at leaving the minor details out? Distrust? Betrayal?

“-of Marmora have gone underground. There has been news of Voltron recently en route to Earth months ago in response to Sendak’s battalion overthrowing the planet. Olkarion has been devastated by unknown forces and survivors have been scattered. Currently, no one has claimed the throne at the main headquarters and the next crowning ceremony will begin in but a few short weeks. Many separated factions are - “

Lotor had options. Many paths he could take to begin repairing the split and broken empire. He could free planets that were overtaken by warlords, spreading hope and securing rogue armies. No, that was what Voltron did and they failed to protect those they promised. Perhaps return to headquarters then declare his status as alive? He will certainly have more resources at his hand then. But no, Haggar and her spies would discreetly sabotage his throne.

Recruit the scattered Alteans? No, he doesn’t have the forces necessary to defend them all right now. They were safer with their captains, fortified with the necessary firepower and supplies. What of the Blades of Marmora? Should he spend valuable time searching for them? Their espionage skills will be most beneficial, especially with their network of spies spread out all over the universe. Then again, what about Voltron?

What about Voltron, indeed.

In truth, Voltron had more use as a gun than anything else. Perhaps there were still people faithful that it was their savior, their answer to all this despair and death in the galaxy. Yes, he could save them. That fight when he was piloting Sincline showed him where Voltron’s strength truly lies: as a false ray of hope. It was weak, in more ways than one.

However, the problem with saving Voltron would confuse many people. If he were to align with them again, that would leave many to doubt his role as a leader and the Emperor of the Galra Empire. He would lose support in the time of need and Voltron itself wasn't good enough to go around. He needed numbers and he would take a loyal military over a disillusioned vigilante any day.

A conundrum, indeed.

“Doctor, Kylan. A moment of your time, please.”

The Emperor ordered the rest of the crew around to give you three some much needed privacy. You stood at his left, Kylan at his right, both in silence. It was no surprise that just like Lotor, you were already calculating what the best course of action would be. Or at least, the best without risking potential deaths and destruction.

“Sir, rallying the Blades would greatly help connect our network with those still loyal to the throne. Although it may take some valuable time to search for their leader and the rest of their members,” Kylan took a deep breath before continuing, “We simply do not have the power alone to protect the Colony and the entirety of the universe, let alone the upcoming war with the other reality.”

Lotor glanced at you from the corner of his eye, awaiting your input. While Kylan’s plan was sound, he couldn't afford to make a hasty decision so soon.

“Sendak has taken over Earth, where Voltron currently resides. I don’t know the lore following the mech, whether the pilots need to be dead before the lions accept a new paladin, but leaving a nuclear cannon that can rip holes into other realities is not something we should leave to a power-hungry warlord. Find out if the paladins are alive. If they are, fight Sendak with both Voltron and Sincline on your side.”

“And if they are not?” the Emperor asked, partly curious about how you would react to your friends dying and partly curious as to why Earth, the one place you didn't want to return to, was even an option you’d consider.

“If not, then…” you trailed off, “If not, steal one of the lions. Voltron cannot be formed without all 5 pieces together. At the very least, it will prevent Sendak from using it to its full potential, regardless if he has located new paladins.”

“Stealing requires stealth. Something the Blades can provide,” Kylan interjected.

“A distraction works just as well. Drawing Sendak’s eyes off of Earth, even for a short time, will give us a small chance to enact our plan,” you countered, then placed a finger on your lips in thought, “If Sincline can attack his battalion, that’s more than enough attention to keep Sendak on a trail.”

Lotor found both plans sound, but there was a small problem, “Sendak will not take the bait. He fights with the ferocity of a thousand suns, but he views a proper battle for the throne as an honor. To taunt him to fight me, use my status as alive in order to claim rights over the empire is not how he views righteous combat.”

“You are the Emperor. If strength is not what determines loyalty, then perhaps it is better to show him with fealty and duty.”

You knew little to nothing about Galra culture, but that letter folded in our pocket did tell you one thing: Galra are not savages. Their history goes beyond blood and guts and gore. It’s a mystery you hope to read about one day, discover how wise veterans compare to the current warriors of the Empire. If what Lotor says is true, then maybe one of the strongest warlords in the galaxy will yield to the rightful emperor.

“Very well. Here is my thought: Kylan and I will send for a search party to locate the Blades of Marmora. They will need this ship and I will not risk the Alteans on board near Sendak’s sights. While we are carrying out our side of the plan, doctor, you will go to Earth and infiltrate the military base as a slave. Give us the details of where the lions are and generally pass on the intel about what is going on. Because you are human, I would imagine it would be quite a simple task for you to blend in,” Lotor bit the inside of his cheek, “Blend in carefully. You are going into the mouth of the beast, after all. From there, we go either two ways: take a lion or confront Sendak. I will leave that judgement up to you, doctor.”

“It’s risky. I don’t suppose you know how long it would take for you two to find the Blades?” you questioned, though already knowing the answer.

Kylan pinched the bridge of his nose, “No. We are not even sure if the Blades still exist. If that be the case, then we should have a back up plan.”

“Regardless of how this turns out, doctor, we will need updates about Voltron and Sendak. Can you handle this on your own?” came Lotor’s final question, but there was a hint of...concern visible in his tone.

Earth, the place you were born in. Earth, the place you left behind for good. Earth, the place soon to be used as a slavery planet for Sendak’s militaristic needs. You’re not heartless. You don’t like the idea of death and destruction on any planet. And that’s what Earth was to you, after spending so many years away, it was just another planet. The attachments you had all died with your father.

For what reason did you have to keep any ties with the land? This was for the safety of the universe and much more.

“Yes. yes, I can. Just don’t leave me behind if things take a turn for the worst.”

Again.

There was a knock at your door, drawing you to pause from packing what little belongings you had into a rucksack.

“Come in.”

And so he did, all of his tall glory stepping into your meager room. Bland, plain, empty and void of sentimentality. Lotor wonders faintly if you lived your entire life like this, with little color and even littler personality. It looked remarkably like the room back on the Castle of Lions. The door behind him closed slowly, but he had no intention of leaving soon anyways.

“Was there something important I missed?”

Lotor stayed silent, watching you and trying to think of how to exactly say his thoughts. He was a man of action when the time was right and right now? Part of him was choking at the very thought of you being alone on a planet ruled by Sendak. His heart screamed at him when he suggested the plan, calling him a fool, an idiot, a bastard that keeps risking those he loves -

No. No, it wasn't love. He had to remind himself that. It was NOT love.

If it wasn't, then why did you come here?

Wordlessly, he bent over to unclasp his boots and pile them neatly by your door. Next came his gloves, followed by his waist cape, and then the rest of his armor until he was standing before you in nothing but his skin-tight body suit. The entire time, you watched in silence with only the beating of your heart getting louder and faster in your chest.

The heart wants. The heart yearns.

“May I stay here tonight?” he asked, but surely he already knew you would say yes. Surely he did. Surely you would.

With a soundless nod, you slipped off your coat then hung it up, just for tonight. Not a doctor, not a soldier, not fighting, not running. Just...being. Existing. Like when trapped inside Sincline’s simulation, except this will be real. Was it okay to do that one more time?

Lotor slipped under the sheets with you, trapping you between the wall and his solid frame. He was never one to call himself a man who hesitates, but he did exactly that when he cautiously slid an arm over your waist to pull you closer. Closer still, until his chest was flushed with your back and his nose nuzzled the top of your head. This let him take in your scent, as if trying to burn it in his memories.

That’s when it clicked. As much as part of you wanted this, you needed it. You both did, after cheating death together. The way he held you tight. The way you leaned into him. He was … scared, just like you. There was no certainty you would not be killed, nor him surviving the trek to find the Blades. You two just found each other again and, while your partnership before wasn't deemed as together, as someone to fight alongside the other, the idea of being separated so soon started to leave an uneasy tension in the air.

There were other ways. More safer, less isolating. He could come with you. Or you can stay with him. Strength in numbers, right?

Oh, where did the confidence go?

Gentle fingertips touched over his knuckles, asking permission to hold, to thread together and seal an unspoken vow between you two. A promise that you can do this, that he will find the Blades, that everything so far is only the beginning and it will work out in the end. It was two simple words. Just two.

Trust me.

#lotor x reader #spacestories #ok the real chapter this time lol #not a rick roll i swear

220 notes · View notes

utterlyinevitable · 5 years ago

Text

Fast Fic #3

Day of Disasters

Word Count: 1.3k Warning: cursing, adult themes, blood Summary: This takes place sometime during OH2.

A/N: Thank you @ultimate-milkboy for requesting this!

________________________________________

You know how people say they ‘woke up on the wrong side of the bed’ to describe their less than pleasant mood? Well let me tell you how the universe punished me for waking up alone in someone else’s bed.

It was 8:20 in the morning and I had to be at Edenbrook by 9AM. I rolled my sluggish half nude body out of the cozy Egyptian cotton sheets of the king-sized bed and made my way to the en-suite for a much-needed shower. As I waited for the water to heat up I reveled in the sweet smell of our mixed scents still lingering on my skin, nothing could ever compare to that musky tang - but the moment I parted my legs to pee I gagged at the festering stench mixed with sweat. My senses clouded by the smell, I hopped as quickly as I could into the walk in shower. Briefly forgetting there’s a slight step, two of my longer toes collided with the cement base and I yipped out in pain. Fuck that’s gonna leave a mark.

At 8:40 I opened the large glass door exiting the apartment complex. I kid you not, I took approximately 2 steps through the door when a large voice called,

“Dr. Lao, Hi!”

Fuck.

Plastering a pleasant smile to my lips I spun on my heels to see Gary Garrison. The aloof intern asked me a bunch of unimportant questions about work and my evening as we unintentionally walked to work together.

“What are you doing on this side of town, Doctor?”

Fuck. One of my friends, most likely Elijah, probably told him we live in a flatshare in the opposite direction. I hoped to all the Gods that he didn’t know He lived here - that building or this side of town. The only way he would know is if he quizzed senior attendings, and even then He rarely gives out his address.

The thought eased my mind a bit.

“I had to run an errand for a friend,” I told him. It was none of his business anyway.

Once I was free of Garrison, I turned a corner to hit up Derry Roasters for some much needed pick me up. Lackadaisically, I kept on walking. My mind didn’t even process the yellow tape, the wooden board on the window or that the cafe was closed due to a break in.

No coffee for me today, cool. I guess I’m stuck with the dishwater - maybe Ethan will let me use his holy grail?

Walking from this part of town meant I would be entering the hospital through the back entrance which I usually avoid because all the surgeons were always working out or being rowdy. I rounded into view and wouldn’t you know it, the surgical residents were playing a game of basketball. Shirts vs Skins. From a distance I could tell Bryce was Captain Skins - the beads of sweat glistening in the morning sun off of his flawless abs. I, Becca Lao, am only human after all - so on that basis I let myself ogle the surgeons for a moment too long on the makeshift sideline. Like some sort of sick joke something fast and hard collided directly with my cheek. I was on the pavement clutching my bloody nose and running my tongue over my throbbing gums within seconds.

That’s gonna bruise.

Suddenly it wasn’t morning anymore - all I could see was shades of black, I tried to blink my other eye to focus but it was no use.

“Fuck, Becks!” I heard Bryce call as heavy footsteps raced over to me. His strong and clammy arms pulled me to my feet. “You ok?”

“No?” I snorted trying to make light of the situation. Without a doubt everyone’s attention was on me and I did not need another embarrassing moment circulating the gossip mill. “Is it bad?” I turned away from Bryce’s semi-lit up form so he could assess the damage.

“I’d still do you,” he joked and I could only imagine the megawatt smile emanating.

Bryce linked his arm with mine and rushed me inside. Once in the less invasive fluorescent lighting my eyesight started to come back just as Ines and Ethan were coming down the hall.

“Ohmygod Becca what happened!” Ines screeched in a motherly tone.

Bryce was quick to respond, “Collateral damage.” Ethan raised a brow at the words and Bryce continued to explain, “Wrong place, wrong time. We really need to work on your reflexes, Becks.”

If I didn’t have blood gushing over my hand and scrubs I would have snorted. Bryce really did know how to make the worst of situations better.

“Come on, Rookie,” Ethan grabbed my things from Bryce and wrapped his arm protectively around my waist. “Dr. Delarosa go ahead without me, I trust your judgment.”

Slowly he led me to the nearest empty exam room. He chucked my things onto the extra chair and guided me to sit on the table. Ethan removed my bloodied hands from my face, shoving cotton balls up my nostrils to stop the bleeding. The world around me was still hazy but I could see the unamused expression on his face as he wiped my hands down.

“I leave you alone for three hours…” he mumbled to himself.

My first instinct was to retort how he chose to head to work early and alone to keep suspicion off of us. And how I walked to work like any other day, but for some reason the universe was punishing me for sleeping over on a workday.

But all of a sudden I felt lightheaded.

“Rookie. Rebecca, stay with me,” he called in his authoritative doctor voice, his aged and calloused hand on my unaffected cheek.

I locked my eyes on his effervescent oceans. My God how is he real? A sleepy smile arose as I took in his gorgeous features - worried and determined cracks of age, naturally manicured eyebrows, stubble that accented his model-like jawline, lips with the most perfect and kissable cupid's bow... I felt high from all the blood rushing through my nostrils and from the rattling in my ear.

Ethan did a full check to make sure nothing was damaged. He sprayed saline to stop the bleeding when it wasn’t halting on it’s own. He moved around me in comfortable silence, completely in his element. If I wasn’t completely enamored with him before, I sure as hell was now. He is the calming certainly anyone would need during a disaster.

How did I get so lucky?

I chuckled at the thought.

Ethan looked over to me and incredulously asked, “What’s so funny?”

What’s funny is I wore you down until you couldn’t effectively push me away any longer. And that means I have a stronger willpower than you.

I sobered up, “Nothing.”

He shook his head and checked his watch.

My tall doctor closed the distance between us, cupping my cheek. My breath hitched as he leaned in. When he knew I couldn’t take the anticipation any more he pulled one of the cotton buds out of my nostril! I gasped at the clearing sensation.

Ethan tilted my head back to make sure there weren’t any clots and moved my head to the side to make sure there wasn’t a ton of swelling.

“If you wanted a bruise so badly you could have just asked,” he said with a mischievous glimmer.

I pouted and the bastard pulled the other cotton out.

“Ethan!” I screamed. “Warn me next time; that fucking hurts.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled against my forehead where he had just placed a kiss. “I think you’ll survive.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Ready for rounds?”

“No,” I responded, causing Ethan to let out a little scoff. Today has been fucking awful. “This city is feeling kinda evil and I need to find caffeine.”

He disposed of his rubber gloves and turned to look at me with arms folded, “Do I want to know what else happened in my absence?”

I gave him the biggest puppy dog pout I could.

He made a show of rolling his eyes but we both know he can’t resist me. “Come on, I’ll make you a cup in the office.”

I hopped off the exam bed and beamed, “Two. I need two cups.”

________________________________________

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamreads @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog @doilooklikeiknow @overwhelminglyaquarius @drethanramslay

#fast fic #requests #open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #bryce lahela #oph #choices oph2 #oph ff #ff

71 notes · View notes

imjeralee · 4 years ago

Text

Wallflower: Chapter 16 - Your Hugs are the Best

Raihan x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: I remember typing this chapter. It was a nightmare XD

Summary: You’re an unassuming Pokemon breeder who works at the nursery in the Wild Area and he’s Raihan, the fearsome gym leader of Hammerlocke who has more than a million followers. You don’t want anything to do with him but he’s…persistent.

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Lemon, smut, violence, language.

YOUR HUGS ARE THE BEST

...

Eli's brought to the room in handcuffs with two policemen escorting him.

He's got a visitor and he's not sure who it could be because he's not expecting anyone else to visit him. Bede came earlier, just to see how he was getting on and to drop a few insults which he was used to. Bede will now become Chairman Rose's right hand man, a role which the youth had wanted for some time but didn't realise he would get so soon and without any drama considering Eli's own (and uncalled for) undoing. His mum also came to visit where he found out a rather unpleasant truth.

Numb inside, he finds his feet moving on their own accord and when the door is opened, he's nudged in and he sees Raihan sitting in the empty seat, wearing a rather morose expression which doesn't suit him.

So Eli snarls out, "What are you doing here?"

Raihan's really the last person he wants to see. He took everything from him. Everything. He's extremely fortunate; he's a gym leader, he's rich and he has a girlfriend. That's what really grinds Eli's bones. He has everything whilst Eli has nothing. As though oblivious to Eli's growing disdain, Raihan says, "I'm here to visit you." It's the obvious truth which frustrates Eli more.

Regardless, Eli shuffles over, dragging the chair out and the legs scrape across the cold hard floor with a squeal; Eli plops himself down, furious. "Why? Have you come here to gloat?"

Raihan looks confused. "No. Why would I do that?"

”Then what do you want?”

”I just came to see how you were.”

Eli lifts up his handcuffed wrists. “What do you think?”

Raihan slides his gaze to the cuffs then says, "...I spoke to your mother.”

There's a brief silence and Eli lowers his wrists, throwing his glance to the window before he scoffs. “...The old bag isn't even my real mum. I don't know where I come from or who I am." He mutters under his breath, “...What a joke. My entire life is a joke. What else could go wrong?”

He's facing ten years in prison, that's what could go wrong.

”Eli, you helped Chairman Rose all those years and he doesn't blame you for what you did. We can reduce the sentence.”

Again, he scoffs. ”Look at me, Raihan. I'm right where I belong. I'm a criminal. Since the day Rose told me I was no longer going to be Hammerlocke's gym leader, Team Rocket took me under their wing and I infiltrated Galar for them. Don’t feel sorry for me. The only people who truly appreciated me was Team Rocket.” Eli replies, before he says loudly, “One day, you'll also realise that Rose is nothing but a selfish bastard and by that time, it'll be too late."

"Rose can be difficult, but....he wants to help you.”

"It's fine, Raihan. No-one needs to do anything for me. I got what I deserved."

Raihan looks somewhat conflicted. "That's not true."

"Don't bother with me anymore. Just leave me alone. Don't you know how lucky you are? Don't you know how good you have it?" Eli replies, before he throws a glance over his shoulder, "Guard, take me back.”

”Wait."

”What?”

“...You’re one of the first people I met when I joined the Pokemon League.” Raihan says, as Eli moves to stand, “You were a good friend to me; I'll never forget that.”

Eli blinks in silence, stunned. His fists curl but he says nothing and the policemen return, ending the short visit. Eli does nothing as the men grab him and bring him to the door and out of the room. Raihan watches his retreating back silently.

The guards show Eli to the cell, uncuffs him and he steps inside, glancing around his surroundings. He'll be here for a long time. Eli's lip trembles as he sits down on the cold, hard bed and the barred door is slammed shut and locked with a loud creak, he stares quietly at the ground.

Then he promptly bursts into tears.

....

After leaving the station, Raihan returns to the stadium. The city's pretty quiet today in general but it could be due to the closure of the gym and the cancellation of gym challenges for a week so there's less tourists. Along the way, he receives several messages and when he checks the screen, his brows furrow when he realises they are from someone he didn't want to hear from, or think he would hear from either: his ex-girlfriend.

The message preview says: I miss you.

He should tell his girlfriend should he get the chance, just in case any misunderstandings arise.

Nevertheless, he makes his way inside the gym and to the locker room where he spots the Hammerlocke gym team - his proteges Sebastian, Camilla and Aria, and the cheerleaders. They're all waiting for him; some of them are on their phone until he steps inside and they hastily put away their devices, all attention focused on the gym leader.

"Morning everyone." He gives them a grin, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his thick hoodie as everyone seats themselves down on the benches, "Today's meeting is gonna be fairly short. I'd send a message to the group chat but I thought speaking to you guys face to face would be better. You've probably seen the news - all gyms are to be closed for a week, re-opening next Monday. However, you're welcome to use the pitch for training as long as you've still got your keycard."

There's an excitable hubbub amongst the group but they soon dissolve into silence as Aria lifts up her arm.

"Yes, Ari?"

"Raihan, why did Eli attack Chairman Rose?"

Raihan lifts one hand to scratch at his headband; he forgot that some of the team and proteges were new and wouldn't know. "Eli was originally meant to be Hammerlocke's gym leader." He says. Whilst Sebastian, Alicia and Camilla nod, the others look noticeably confused. "But Chairman Rose decided Eli wasn't a good fit so I was given the gym leader position instead."

"Thank Arceus!" One of the cheerleaders exclaim, "We can't imagine anyone else being Hammerlocke's gym leader except you, Rai."

"Yeah, I agree!"

"Definitely not Eli, he's awful!"

The cheerleaders are quite vocal about their opinions whilst his proteges merely nod amongst themselves and Raihan laughs, "Alright, calm down, everyone." And the cheerleaders simmer into silence.

Sebastian lifts his hand up this time. "The news says you and your girlfriend stopped him." He mutters, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

"Yep, that's right. You've probably seen her around."

A cheerleader giggles loudly, "Yeah, I saw her mop the floor with Alicia!"

Immediately, Alicia frowns and scowls at her. "I-I went easy on her!"

"I heard she's an EV trainer."

"Has she been to any of your matches, Rai?"

"Not yet."

"Can we meet her????" asks another cheerleader and whilst Alicia and a few others scowl at her, the proteges look quite interested.

"Sure. I can bring her round one day."

"Yay!”

"Any more questions? Anyone?"

The group goes silent and everyone throws glances to each other but overall, there's nothing, so Raihan adjourns the meeting and everyone goes off their separate ways. As he takes his belongings out of his locker, Rotom sounds off again and he checks the screen. It's from his ex again and it says: I miss you, please come back to me.

....

Later.

There's a spot in your home where you go when you want some peace and quiet, to clear your mind. It's not the kitchen sink cupboard either, it's the tree stump in your front yard. Luckily the weather is good with a gentle breeze in the air so you've sat there whilst waiting for Raihan to come back, staring up at the sky with Espeon curled up in your lap.

You stroke her head and back absent-mindedly, preoccupied with your thoughts. You had woken up this morning, remembering all too well that Raihan has seen you sleeping under the kitchen sink in the middle of the night and you thought you had turned him off big time but you were surprised to wake up and he was still in your home. He didn’t mention anything though and you carried on as normal - you both took a shower, got dressed, ate breakfast and then Raihan returned to Hammerlocke.

Many people in your life came and went. They could deal with your emotional issues, or issues in general - but only up to a certain point. After a while, people just seemed to have displayed no interest in listening and stopped lending their ears. You soon discovered that people were more interested in themselves and were only out for themselves.

That was a cold, hard truth you learned quickly in life.

Used to being misunderstood, being disappointed by those you poured your trust and faith in... the only person you confided in and still maintained contact with was your friend who has been with you through thick and thin and vice versa - and now you have found out that she’s been involved in an accident in Castelia City; she's been admitted to the Community Hospital and she hasn't woken up. Her mother called you to let you know, even though she's a few days late. That explains why your friend never made it to Rose's party.

If that wasn't distressing enough for you, your boss then messaged, informing you that she will be taking indefinite leave and the nursery will be closed for a week on account that the gyms are closed, too.

However, during her absence, you're going to get a new boss - someone from the Route 5 nursery. Your boss sounded uncertain when you asked her when she was going to return, so now you can't help but feel that she's decided not to come back, if at all. She tells you not to worry about the nursery during your break.

You have decided that Phantump will continue to stay with Allister; your boss cannot bring herself to face Phantump at the moment. Perhaps in due time, she will take him in.

Then you saw this online article and it's about Raihan and you and the comments range from how ugly and fat you are and how you don't deserve Raihan, how poor you are and that you're a gold digger, how he deserves much better and that you should go back to where you came from.

Emitting a huge and heavy sigh, you try not to let the comments from complete and utter strangers get to you but they are so mean and hurtful...and now you're questioning everything: why are you here? If you think about it more clearly, you haven't really had a good time.... you haven't made any new friends. Your family are in Johto, you miss them a lot, and now your friend is hurt and in hospital. Your job seems secure to a certain extent but you're not sure what's going to happen from now on.

The only good thing to happen to you since you came here is meeting Raihan. Aside from that...you don't really have anyone or anything else. It was your choice to work abroad... but you didn't realise it could be so lonely.

And before Raihan left to Hammerlocke, you had told him everything that had happened and how you will need to visit your friend in Unova. After Unova, you will go to Johto to see your family. You asked him if he wanted to come because since you both have a week off, you think it is really a good idea to make the most of it if possible.

To your utmost surprise, he agreed and that he would look into last minute flights. Leave it all to him, he said. You felt bad about that but he said he would take care of it.

The thought of going home actually makes you happy and you turn to Espeon. She opens her large eyes and blinks up at you, then she reaches up and rubs her head and ears and whiskers over the side of your cheek affectionately. You giggle, wrapping your arms around your lilac furry baby, fingers smoothing over her soft fur. She purrs with content, closing her eyes as you hold her tightly in your embrace. You remember when she was just a little Eevee, so tiny and cute.

You chuckle under your breath just as Poliwag sticks his head under your arm and eases it off Espeon, burying himself into your arms. He trills happily and you're surprised to see him outside the bathroom which is nice for a change. Drifloon floats over too, wrapping his little strings under your chin and settling over the top of your head.

"Hmm, I'm missing two more." You say, throwing a glance over your shoulder to Dreepy and Goomy - however, you're quickly taken by surprise when Dreepy vanishes from his spot and materialises on your shoulder, rubbing his head over your cheek.

That leaves Goomy, who's fast asleep under a neon mushroom a few feet away from your group until he's gently picked up. It's Raihan; he's returned, standing behind the small gate of your front yard. With Goomy in his grasp, he makes his way over to your group. "Hey."

Your face lights up at once. "Hey, you're back. How did it go?"

"All good. Sebastian and the others are fine. The cheerleaders too." He leans forwards and you exchange a brief kiss before breaking apart. Raihan moves to sit cross-legged in front of you on the grass with Goomy snoozing away in his lap. "The stadium's officially closed." He adds, "I got the tickets. Everything's all booked."

Your jaw drops as he pulls out some tickets from his pockets and presses them into your hand. He's gotten cruise tickets for the Royal Unova andplane tickets. "Rai! These are...how did you even get these??? It’s so last minute! Thank you so much." You smile widely at him and he leans forwards once more; you follow his cue and your lips meet again.

"It's no bother at all."

"How much do I owe you?"

"You don't owe me anything, princess. It was my pleasure." He says, cupping your cheek with his large hand, "The Royal Unova will take us from Hulbury directly to Castelia City, then we'll catch a direct flight from Mistralton to Johto."

You gawk at him wide-eyed. He's got everything figured out! Sweet Arceus, why is Raihan so perfect?!

"I'll head back to pack." He adds, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Okay. Shall we meet at Hulbury?"

He nods, pressing his lips against yours briefly. "Yep." You smooch again until he says, “Before I go, I need to show you something.”

”What?”

He takes out his phone and shows you his messages screen. You don’t see anything wrong and you’re not sure why he’s showing you it until you see a “I miss you” message from his ex.

At first, you blinked blankly at the message, then your expression turned dark. What the hell. I miss you? You begin to quietly seethe with rage; you see that he’s received several messages too, and not just the one. So....his ex wants to get back with him?

He returns his phone back to his pockets once he notices how you glower at the screen. ”I just started receiving them this morning. I didn’t reply, and I’m not going to.” He mutters, “I thought I should tell you.”

Oh, Raihan. Raihan, Raihan, Raihan. What a sweetheart. You smile widely, reaching for him and pulling his headband up where you plant multiple kisses on his forehead. He chuckles in response when you proceed to wrap your arms around his head, holding him close to you.

”Thanks, I really appreciate it.” You say, “It’s fine, honestly.”

Raihan leaves and you grab Goomy; it sucks that Raihan’s ex has messaged him, trying to worm her way back into his life and even trying to steal him away from you - but Raihan has shown you the messages and even told you he won’t entertain her.

With more important things to think about - like your trip for example - you rush back into your cottage with your pokemon and into your lounge and they leap out of your arms as you shut the door before you pull out your Rotom phone to message your mother:

You: Hi mom i have a week off so im coming home. Raihan is coming with me :)

Looking up from your phone for a brief moment, you pause, then hastily start typing again.

You: Ps can u hide my Steven Stone fan art and those fanfictions I wrote about Lance?

...

Later.

This is your first trip with Raihan.

How exciting!

Also, you're getting to go home! You'll be able to see mum and Glenn - and it's then you randomly remember that mum had wanted you to go to Celadon City and not Galar, to train as a flower girl in Erika's gym but knowing that she only specialised in grass and welcomed 'attractive' pokemon only, you had refused because your entire team apparently didn't qualify.

Time is of the essence here and you're determined to make the most of your allocated time - so the itinerary is very simple: the Royal Unova is a luxurious cruise ship that picks up passengers on various harbours around the world and in Galar, and as Raihan mentioned, the harbour is at Hulbury. It will subsequently dock at it's final destination which is Castelia City, thus efficiently depositing you where your friend's hospital is. It won't even take long either, just a few hours onboard. You've been wary of sea travel after seeing what happened to the S.S. Anne but hell, it can't stop you.

And after you visit your friend, you will then head to Mistralton City to take a flight to Johto and from Johto, take a return flight to Galar. Unfortunately, you really don't have any time to do much sightseeing in Unova with Raihan. Maybe next time.

The cruise ship is arriving tonight at eight o'clock and you've got to pack. Whilst Raihan has returned home to pack his belongings, you both video chat each other. Even though he's not physically in your house, you feel he is still with you. You will meet him three hours in Hulbury prior boarding time; he's given you heads up to pack a swimsuit.

You hastily return all your house'mon into their pokeballs and deposit them into the PC for safekeeping and for access when you get on the cruise liner. You will keep Metagross, Chompy, Tyranitar, Salamence and Haxorus with you on person. You keep Poliwag with you too; he'll be your companion.

At home, you pull out the suitcase you took with you to Galar, giving it a quick wipe with a clean and hot cloth before grabbing some clothes to pack. You're not going away for long so it's not necessary to pack too many items but for some reason you're wanting to pack ten pairs of panties with you in case you run out of underwear. Once you're done, you ensure all your gas, electricity and water and heating has been turned off and make sure everything else is in order, then head for the door.

"Goodbye, house." You say, giving your cottage one final look before closing the door and locking it.

The Corviknight taxi takes you and Poliwag to Hulbury and it's been a while since you and Poliwag have really hung out but it's nice for him to be outside your bathroom for a change.

Since Poliwag is not very good at walking, you carry him. He looks a little frightened by his new and different surroundings but you assure him that he'll be fine and you both make your way to the harbour where Raihan is waiting for you; he's inside the ferry terminal, looking at his phone whilst seated on a bench with three suitcases by his side.

At first, you thought he would be overdressed but he's looking rather casual - he's wearing a windbreaker, a white t-shirt with a dragon claw print on the front, black joggers and white trainers with a red streak on the sides. In an attempt to be as inconspicuous as possible, he's even propped a beanie over his dreadlocks and a pair of sunglasses. Luckily, no-one seems to pay any attention to him; you weave through the crowd of passengers who are waiting to board the ship and when he sees you, he stands, putting his phone away.

"That's a lot of suitcases." You point out as you stop in front of him.

"Yep." He says, peering down from his shades to wink at you; he scoops your hand with his, giving you an affectionate squeeze, "Let's go, I got all the travel documents."

Nodding, you join the queue with your suitcases and stand in line amongst other fellow passengers who chatter to each other excitedly whilst their Pokemon play with each other. You can also hear people comparing the amount of ribbons their pokemon have and the number of contests they've won. Outside, the ship can be seen bobbing up and down gently in the sea where a few Dewgongs leap around and frolick in the waves. The ship is so huge you can only see one window and the side of the ship is covered in Binacles.

To keep yourself occupied whilst you queue, you watch as a few youngsters play around with their pokemon whilst a couple in the corner kiss passionately; Raihan nudges you with a grin and you turn away, cheeks reddening. You grab the brochure, opening it and checking the entertainment onboard - there are a few shows going on, namely Pokemon Karaokemon and Pikachu's Jukebox which you want to watch.

When it's finally your turn to be served, you both check in, the agent breezes through your travel documents and passports where you and Raihan end up comparing your ID photos. The agent then weighs all your luggage and attaches tags on them; finally, she prints out your onboard identification passes, room key and payment card and you're finally ready to go in. The agent tells you that the ship will be docking in Castelia City next morning.

You almost forgot how exhausting the entire ordeal could be when you and Raihan make your way hand in hand down the corridor that will lead to the ship. A steward with a Poliwhirl dressed up with a sailor's hat stands at the very top and they both welcome you onboard with a synchronised salute. The steward provides instructions how to find your room and when you look at the ticket, you realise Raihan's booked a VIP suite which doesn't surprise you at all.

With Poliwag in your arms, you and Raihan find your room - which is far away from the common folk and it's a massive room with an equally huge king-sized bed slap bang in the middle. The room's decor is seriously exquisite - consisting of gold drapes and red furnishings and an ensuite bathroom that's fitted with a jacuzzi. It's a shame you're only staying for a few hours, but you are going to make sure you relax and enjoy your time here with Raihan.

Whilst Raihan tests the bed, you and Poliwag check out the bathroom, glimpsing around the beautiful marble interior. You're interrupted when a tannoy goes off and it's an announcement from the captain; you feel the ship is beginning to move and you are now free to explore the ship to your heart's content.

The first thing you do is hit the VIP pool; it's Raihan's idea, of course.

With a towel, a pair of flip-flops and your swimsuit in hands, you and Raihan head to the VIP area where you both split up once you reach the changing rooms. Poliwag finds an empty cubicle for you - you're going to meet Raihan at the pool - and you quickly change out of your clothes and into the swimsuit you packed. Cripes, it's tight. You stand awkwardly in your flip-flops, tugging and pulling at the straps and pulling down on your panties before locking away your belongings into a locker and grabbing the jelly bracelet and key, strapping it around your wrist.

Turning to Poliwag, he looks eager to hit the pool and follows you outside, promptly jumping into the pool first.

You stop at the pool's edge, peering over and glimpsing into the clear blue water and you sense a presence approaching you from behind. Spinning round on your heel, you see it's Raihan and he's about to push you into the pool as he creeps up but you're quick to grab his arm as he reaches for you and you pull him forwards.

You end up tumbling into the pool with a loud splash. There's a few patrons - mostly old ladies and gentlemen along with their Pokemon (ranging from Horsea, Swanna to Snubbull) leisurely swimming around and they don't look impressed with your arrival, giving you dirty looks.

The pool's extremely deep; under water, you see Poliwag swimming closeby with someone's Buizel, before you hastily return to the surface with Raihan; he grins at you as he sweeps his damp hair away from his eyes before he grabs you - and he inadvertently brushes his hand over a ticklish spot - you end up curling into a ball that would put a defense curl to shame and squeak with laughter, trying to get away from him.

Raihan grins and goes after you in the pool; you're splashing loudly in the water and flailing around, swimming away from him until he finally chases you all the way to a quiet corner away from people; it's the section with the jacuzzi, the water bubbling around you and Raihan slips his bare arms around your waist, bringing you close to him.

"Got you." He murmurs, as Poliwag swims beside you both, kicking his little feet in the water before the bubbly water carries his little body up and he bobs around you in a circle. Your face grows red as Raihan leans over and nibbles the shell of your ear, pressing you against the slippery tiles of the pool. "What do you think of everything so far?"

"It's great," You utter with a smile as you drape your arms over his bare shoulders, running your hands over his smooth skin and muscles; he's so close your noses are touching and he nuzzles you affectionately. “This is my first time on the Royal Unova.”

“Mm, then we should do this more often. There's plenty of other vacation spots out there - Hano Grand Resort in Alola, for example."

"Actually, I'd love to go to Melemele Island, or visit Floaroma Meadow."

He chuckles before he leans forwards, his lips finding yours. You kiss him in response and he grins against your mouth, pressing his lips tightly against yours until your ears pick up the sound of pounding music a distant away; when you break apart, you glimpse over his shoulder. "What's up?" He asks, following the direction of your gaze.

"It's kinda noisy over there. Wonder what's going on."

"Wanna check it out?"

"Alright." You mutter, and Raihan leaves the pool before promptly lifting you out.

You grab Poliwag; following the source of the noise, it leads you to an entirely new area - you both peer over the ledge to see a massive pool one deck below filled with tonnes of people cheering and whooping and dancing whilst a DJ and his booth stands at the very end, blasting out heavy dance music with his Loudred and Exploud; there's a few stewards weaving through the crowd carrying champagne glasses.

A sign in the corner says:

Pool Party, Venue - Lower VIP Deck VIP members only **Strictly NO Electric-types allowed** PS. No Magikarps either.

It's not too late to turn back but Raihan's expression lights up at once at the scene and you sigh under your breath. Guess it can't be helped. “...Alright, let's go have a closer look."

Grinning widely, he takes your hand and leads you downstairs towards the lower VIP deck. There's no bouncer and you stray further inside where the music is becoming louder; in fact, it is so loud, it hurts your ears. Poliwag waddles beside you, looking around cautiously and trying not to get his tail stepped on.

Glancing at the pool, you see half of it is separated by a net - there are attractive young men and women playing water volleyball with their Vaporeon and Sharpedo and other water-types, screaming with laughter and cheering wildly. Holy crap, you are so uncomfortable here, being surrounded by so many attractive fit people in their tiny bikinis and shorts. You accidentally glance at a few couples on couches who are making out intensely and fondling each other in intimate areas - and you turn away immediately. There's so many people dancing and drinking booze and you cringe when you realise this is nothing but a gratuitous frat party.

And this is definetely Raihan’s scene.

In fact, he is totally at home here. It's so crowded, you can hardly breathe; almost every space of the deck is occupied by someone or a pokemon. There's barely any room to move around freely and if it wasn't for Raihan holding your hand tightly, you were afraid you would've become lost amongst the crowd. You give his hand a tight squeeze, clinging onto him for dear life but he merely smiles at you reassuringly.

"Do you want a drink?" Raihan asks, gesturing to the bar where a few staff members are busy making cocktails. "I'll get you one."

"Sure."

"What do you fancy?"

You shrug. "Nothing too strong, please. I'll wait for you over there." You gesture to an empty deck chair near the pool.

"Alright." He kisses your knuckles and makes his way towards the direction of the bar. Along the way, you notice a lot of girls ogle him, which makes you highly uncomfortable.

You stand on your own with Poliwag in your arms, looking rather out of place. Oh well, time to hit the deckchair you mentioned. You head over, but some girl beats you to it and plops herself down on the plushy seat.

"Sorry, this one's taken." She says abruptly.

Fine then. You turn away to find another chair, weaving through the crowd, trying to locate a spare chair until you come across a small table with three seats and one is already taken - although you're not inclined to share, you don't see any other seats available. The person in the other chair is a woman in a white bikini with her sunhat conveniently placed over her face. Though you cannot see her face, you can tell she's attractive - she has a very slim, hourglass figurine with large breasts.

You ask, "Excuse me, are these seats taken?"

You wonder if she's asleep but she raises one sinewy hand and lowers the hat and your eyes widen; it's Raihan's ex-girlfriend. She observes you for a split second and whilst you freeze up all over with shock, she sits up properly and smiles. "No, there's no-one sitting here."

Shit, you should get away from her as quickly as possible. However, your feet are rooted to the spot and ultimately, it's too late to make a hasty exit now. "....Thanks." You end up croaking out, seating yourself down with Poliwag in your lap. He looks eager to jump into the pool, straining and struggling in your grip so you let go of him and he hops onto the floor. "Be careful, Poliwag."

He nods and with a cheerful trill, you watch as Poliwag waddles towards the pool and hastily jumps in, causing a splash which makes some patrons whoop and yell and follow his example, cannonballing into the pool. You're left with the ex-girlfriend.

"What a cute Poliwag," She coos, snapping you out of your thoughts and you turn to her, "Is that an Everstone tied around his tail?"

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"Sorry, could you say that again? I couldn't hear you over the noise."

"...Um, I said, yes, that's an Everstone." You croak out, raising your voice slightly higher so she could hear you. Is she being nice or fake-nice? You cannot tell and it doesn't even matter because you have no intention in getting to know her better or becoming her friend. You find that you can't stop staring at her; she's so pretty and perfect, with her sleek and shiny long hair, sharp features and big, soft eyes and long eyelashes and perky lips. You're feeling like the ugly Ducklett all over again. Ugh, how terrible, how awful.

"He doesn't want to evolve?" She asks curiously and it's then you see various guys a fraction of a distance away, and they're all staring at her, checking her out.

"Yeah."

"Why not?"

"He likes being a Poliwag."

"What level is he?"

"Seventy two. I've had him for a long time." You mentally kick yourself, pondering why you are still conversing and being so civil.

"A level seventy two Poliwag? I've never met a trainer who dedicated so much time in....in..."

"...In training a Poliwag up to level seventy two?"

"Yes," She giggles lightly, eyes creasing with delight. “Sorry, it's just... never mind. Anyway, fancy seeing you here. How are you?" She says, reaching for a champagne glass and lifting it off the table and earnestly, you're surprised she even recognises you.

"I'm fine, thank you." You grunt out.

"Here, have one." She gestures to the spare champagne glass and you stare at the pearly, golden liquid bubbling inside. "It's Champagne Brut Millesime."

"No thanks."

"I saw the news - you saved Chairman Rose along with the gym leaders and Leon." She adds, and a part of you is wondering why she is chatting to you as though you have known each other for a long time and as though you are very good friends. "That was very brave."

"I didn't do much."

She waves her other hand dismissively. "Don't be so modest. Everyone knows what you did - it’s on the news and it’s all over social media. So, what brings you here?"

"We're going to Unova."

"Is Raihan with you?"

You hesitate, then nod. "....Yeah, he is."

She glances around before she spots him at the bar, "Ah, I see." A wide smile appears on her face then. Chuckling to herself, she leans comfortably against the deckchair to stretch and you can't help but stare as she crosses one long leg over the other. Her skin is milky white and perfect, likeporcelain. "I don't think I properly introduced myself back at the party." She tells you her name and how she is a gym trainer at Elesa's gym in Nimbasa City and how she is also a social media model, beauty blogger, travel vlogger and makeup artist. All of these you already know, of course.

"That's crazy. I-I mean...wow." You're not sure what else to say in response to her feats but she seems pleased with your reaction anyway. You tell her that you're a Pokemon Breeder.

"I wanted to work in a daycare too because I love baby pokemon, but I like travelling more and I can't stay in one place for too long." She utters; you're busy looking around as she speaks and you spot a group crowding around a high table and you can see they're snorting berry dust up their noses. "Do you have a social media account? Give me your username and I'll add you."

"Huh? What? Oh...I-I'm not on social media."

"That's a shame." She mutters, looking rather confused, "You know...Raihan and I used to go to these kinds of parties all the time. We always had a good time....and he would always get me anything I wanted. It was really sweet of him. If I asked him to get me something, he used to drop everything and I mean everything, just to do it, just to make me happy. You should do the same too."

You give her an incredulous stare in response as she proceeds to take a sip from her champagne.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to go on like that." She rummages around her side and pulls out two thin cigarettes... or what you thought were cigarettes. "Want one?"

Your eyes grow wide. "Is that..."

"Yeah." She says with a grin, and as she attempts to find a lighter, you start feeling nauseous. "How are you two getting on?"

"We're fine."

Unable to find her lighter, she huffs and says, ”Alright, what do you like about him?”

You wonder why she is asking you this. “Everything. He’s perfect. I love his smile. Oh, and his hugs are the best.” You reply, without thinking too hard.

”Aw, how cute. You know, when he falls in love, he falls, hard. I'm sure you realise that by now," She then says, looking at her polished fingernails, "He was such a little flirt; he went after me like a Lycanroc on steroids. And when we broke up, his heart was crushed. I'm sure of it. I guess it can't be helped. But even then.... he managed to pick himself back up and start all over again....because now he's with you. And it's like I never existed."

You're not quite sure what she's trying to say.

However, now is a good chance to confront her and tell her to leave Raihan alone. He is your boyfriend, not hers. You need to get your message across, to mark your territory and claim what is yours, big time. Go on, tell her to leave Raihan alone.

"Look, I know you've - "

"Remind me again: how did you meet Raihan?"

You don't recall telling her how you met him. You should tell her how you met Raihan at a club and later had hot sex at his hotel room. Wait... maybe not. Some things should not be said and that is definitely one of them. You don't want to tell her anything because quite frankly, you are not obligated to tell her anything.

Before you can reply however, a familiar voice says, "We met at a club and then spent the night in a hotel room."

You turn round with your mouth agape to see Raihan standing behind you; when your eyes meet, he grins widely. "Rai!" You exclaim.

"What?"

"You can't just say these things out loud! People are going to get the wrong idea!"

He chuckles loudly whilst the ex-girlfriend stares silently at the both of you. He's got Poliwag with him and you take your tadpole pokemon off him and into your arms. Raihan then glances at his ex.

"Good to see you." He greets her before he leans down, cupping your chin with his hand and tilting your face up to his level, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss. As your heart thumps wildly, he lets go of you and his ex-girlfriend stares at your interaction before she opens her mouth, about to speak. However, Raihan quickly says, "We were about to go. Isn't that right, princess?"

"Yes! Let's go right now." You say hurriedly, although you wonder why Raihan doesn't seem interested in the party any longer.

"Wait." His ex-girlfriend rises from the chair to stand, "Raihan, can I talk to you? Alone?"

There's a short silence; Raihan glimpses between you and his ex-girlfriend, and you and Poliwag blink blankly at him in response. To your dismay, he nods. Planting his hand on your shoulder, he gives you a squeeze and grins at you, "I'll be right back."

Raihan pecks your forehead and promptly leaves your side. You watch as he joins his ex-girlfriend and they disappear through the crowd; you're left on your own and Poliwag slaps you on the arm gently with his tail and makes a loud noise, before using his tail to point at them unwaveringly.

"Follow them?" You utter, and he nods furiously. ".....No, we don't need to. I trust Raihan. Let's just wait for him to come back."

But Poliwag shakes his head and begins waddling towards the direction Raihan and his ex headed off to.

"Poliwag, come back!" Now you have no choice but to go after him, scrambling off the chair to chase after your pokemon.

He's quite small so you have a hard time trying to catch up, occasionally losing sight of your round boy but the telltale signs are his smooth and shiny blue head and tail bobbing around so eventually, you follow him all the way towards the direction of the VIP Observation Deck.

Along the way, you politely excuse yourself as you make your way through the crowd and suddenly, Poliwag stops and you finally reach him; lifting him up and back into your arms. Poliwag points again using his tail and you see Raihan and the ex-girlfriend; they haven't ventured too far at all. You immediately duck and hide behind the nearest pillar you can find before peeping out; you haven't been spotted and luckily, you are within earshot. Unfortunately, you're a bit late so they're in mid-conversation and you thought they were smoking joints together or whatever but they're merely staring at the ocean.

You can hear Raihan saying, "She means a lot to me."

The ex-girlfriend turns to him, placing her hand on his bare arm. "That's not true. You haven't been together for long. She cannot help you, Rai. She's a nobody and she's a stick in the mud. We had so much fun when we were together; remember when we went to Undella Town? Lilycove? The Resort Area in Sinnoh? We did so much together."

He gently removes her arm off him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you didn't reply to my messages and I miss you; I saw you at the party and I remembered how much fun we had. Let's go back together. We were meant for each other." She says, "I can call my engagement off; I miss you a lot. I really do. I know you still have feelings for me too - come back to me, please."

She smiles at him wistfully before she attempts to embrace him; however, he stops her, holding her back at arm's length, "You're wrong. And I don't feel the same. You've met a nice man who treats you well. I know you'll be very happy together."

There's a brief silence. She goes silent at the rejection, staring up at him with her large eyes. However, in the span of a second, her expression turns to ice as she glares at him before turning away from him with her nose in the air. "You'll regret this, Raihan," She sneers, "You two won't last long. And when the time comes, don't come crawling back to me because I won't take you back, even if you begged."

"Wasn't planning to." He calls after her as he lets go of her and she stomps away.

Your jaw hits the floor.

Poliwag struggles in your grip and lands on the ground, waddling out. "Poliwag!" You exclaim before you can help yourself, completely blowing your cover in progress as you attempt to grab him.

At the sound of your voice, Raihan turns round and you freeze up at once as he looks at you and Poliwag. You stand up properly as your gazes meet. Poliwag walks up to Raihan, chirping at him cheerfully and Raihan grins, scooping him off the ground and into his arms, holding him high into the air.

"Sorry, Rai, we weren't...I didn't mean to..." You mutter sheepishly as he heads over to you, and you take Poliwag from him.

However, Raihan merely smiles and plops his hand atop your head, "It's fine. She won't message me ever again."

He's chosen you over her, even though she tried to get back with him and you glance at the direction the ex-girlfriend stormed off to. "What you were talking about just there - she can't talk to you like that and just walk away though."

Yep, you're going to march up to her, tell her to stay away from Raihan. He's with you now. You're his girlfriend, not her.

However, he stops you by grabbing your arm gently. "Don't waste your time." He drawls, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, enveloping you into a tight hug. You hear him sigh gently before he presses his lips over the top of your head. You close your eyes, encircling your arms around him tightly and he does the same, burying his face into your hair.

”You’re too nice.” You mumble; you don't think that's the last you have seen of her.

“Kill ‘em with kindness. Gets them every time.”

You sigh helplessly in response. Even when people are horrible and mean to him, Raihan just smiles and takes it or shrugs it off. "But I don't want to see you get hurt or get taken advantage of."

"This is the kind of world we live in, princess." He replies, and you lower your gaze to the ground. Raihan chuckles at your response, ruffling your hair before he hugs you tighter and you bury your face into his nape, snuggling into him. “C’mon. Let’s go back to our room.”

You nod; he scoops your hand with his, clutching you firmly and you both make your way towards the direction of the exit. That's enough drama for one day.

...

Finally, you've made it to Castelia City.

It's your first time here and it's way bigger and busier than you had anticipated and the moment you left the ship, you and Raihan spent a few seconds gawking at the grandiose of it all. There is nothing in Galar that remotely resembles this city and hell, you thought Wyndon was pretty big but Castelia takes the cake. Quite frankly, you feel like a little country-bumpkin Morpeko all over again. The horizon is dotted with numerous skyscrapers that stretch so high you have to crane your neck just to look up properly. Blown away by the view, you open up the brochure you took from one of the stands near the ticket kiosk and pull out the map.

"Hm, let's see. Casteliacone shop - nope. Art Museum - nope. Aha! The hospital is somewhere in Mode Street." You mutter, whilst Raihan takes selfies of himself in all manner of poses and from all possible angles. You fold the map back up, slotting it into your bag, "Rai, are you done taking pictures? We need to go."

He puts his phone away, trailing after you; he's occupied with looking at the scenery and sights but stays close. You know he wants to sightsee now that you're here.

Luckily, the ship operates a left luggage service so you leave your suitcases and you can collect them later. You begin your journey to the hospital with your gift card and gift basket in hand, dodging the businessmen and tourists alike who are running up and down the streets in a hurried fashion. And here you thought Kanto's cycling route was bad. This is worse - even though there's not a bike in sight.

You do your best to avoid people by darting left and right but it's inevitable that you end up bumping into a few folk along the way. As you continue down the frantic street with Raihan, you see how manic it is - triathletes run with their Hitmonlee, parasol ladies are walking their Furfrous and Manectrics, a cleaner hoses down windows with his Quagsire team and a small group of construction workers takes up half the sidewalk with Gurdurrs and Hariyamas. It's so lively here but space is limited, making you feel that you take Galar and the sparse Wild Area for granted.

You could also get a taxi but the street is just two blocks ahead and when you finally arrive, you're panting and you see that the hospital is a standalone building and you and Raihan enter; it's as busy as the streets outside with Chanseys and Blisseys rushing around. Your friend's mother has given you the ward number beforehand so you follow the signs and ride the elevator up, stepping out once you reach the correct floor.

You register at the counter and hurry in, spotting your friend's mother, her Bellsprout and a familiar purple-haired young man standing a bed by the window, conversing quietly. Once they spot you however, they stop discussing and wave to you immediately.

"Leon?" Raihan says, stunned by the Champion's presence here.

"Hey, Raihan." Leon replies, before he greets you also. You greet him in response; it's nice to see that he's not in his Champion gear - he's wearing a plain white sweater with a Charizard on the front, dark blue jeans and white sneakers. A black snapback with a red motif sits atop his fluffy hair.

"What are you doing here?"

"My friend was meant to be introduced to Leon." You quickly explain, though you're surprised to see that Leon actually came to visit.

"Yep, that's right." Leon replies, grinning.

Your friend's mother smiles widely also as you introduce Raihan to her. "Thanks for coming. This means so much to her."

Everyone glances at the bed where your friend is lying still, eyes closed. She looks terrible - her entire right leg is bandaged and hoisted up in the air by a sling attached to the ceiling, and she has a brace around her neck. It hurts you to see her like this; your friend is a good person. Why do bad things happen to good people? You move to join her mother, sitting beside her on the spare chair. "....How is she?"

"She's stable now; she's in a lot better condition than a few days ago and the doctor says she'll make a full recovery."

You breathe a sigh of relief, "What happened?"

"A car hit her when she was crossing the street and drove off. The police are looking into the incident. I called her workplace and they've decided to let her go. They said they can't afford the statutory sick pay because they don't know when she will wake up."

Your nose scrunches up with revulsion. You knew your friend didn't like her work and the company sounded awful, but you didn't realise they'd be this dodgy, either.

She nods gently, sighing under her breath. "...I'm afraid there isn't much we can do. We'll just need to wait for her to wake up, but...never mind, she is better off not working for that dreadful company any longer. I was getting so worried."

"I think so too." You mutter. Maybe it's a sign?

"Anyway, how are you, dear?"

"I'm fine; I brought a gift." You reply, holding up your gift basket and card and as you place it down on the bedside table, you chat with your friend's mother for a brief moment whilst Leon and Raihan talk quietly in one corner.

Unfortunately, you can't afford to stay any longer due to your flight to Johto so you say your goodbyes, your friend's mother thanks you again for taking the time to visit and you wish your friend a speedy recovery. She doesn't budge in any way, completely unresponsive. After the visit's over, you leave the hospital with Raihan; Leon will be staying put in Castelia for a while, which makes you happy considering you thought it was a shame that your friend didn't get to meet him yet he's come to visit.

Hand in hand, you and Raihan make your way towards the direction of the ship where you will collect your suitcases before heading off to the airport.

"I hope your friend gets better." Raihan says, noticing your forlorn expression.

"Me too. Thanks for coming with me." You murmur, "And it's nice of Leon to visit, I didn't think he would."

"Mn, I agree."

"I hope they go together," You add, smiling, "I have a good feeling about them."

...

#wallflower #jeralee #archive of our own #fanfic #fic #raihan #kibana #pkmn #pokemon #pokemonshield #pokemonsword #pokemon shield and sword #raihan x reader #reader insert #reader #Raihan x you

31 notes · View notes