#'i provide you with food and shelter. so THIS is how you repay me

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

❧ 2. Indestructible

❧ Masterlist - Previous - Next

❧ A/N: written portion below!

It's all too suffocating. The expectations, the micromanaging, and of course, the eyes that never stop analyzing your every decision. Whether you choose to extend a sigh only a mere second longer, or whether you choose to wear your favourite sweater twice in a row. Everything is observed and critiqued.

And sometimes, it's just far too much.

Even the mirror cannot provide you with a safe space. The fluorescent lighting is far too cruel for your liking, highlighting every imperfection that you really wish to pay no mind to. Yet, beyond the imperfections, it's the eyes that captivate even your own interest. A shell of a person stares back at you, yet the eyes... They carry a heaviness that would startle most, and would haunt others.

They tell a story about a marionette whose entire life consisted of obeying the wishes of others. The invisible strings that were embedded into the limbs of the marionette, lifted her up and helped her continue the play.

No matter how disastrous the storm inside of her soul was, she had no choice. The show must always go on.

"Y/n? Are you okay?"

The voice disturbs your inner monologue, yet it does not frighten you; nor does it trigger any negative emotions. Instead, a small smile claims the corners of your mouth as you take in the presence of your younger brother.

"I'm okay, Reo. I just needed to use the bathroom." Instinctively, you reached out and provided a gentle pat to his cheek, earning you an inquisitive blink in response. It was clear that your words did not provide him with the reassurance he craved.

"You don't have to hide things from me." The purple-haired boy stated this as if it were a universal fact; one that was not open to debate. "I'm only a year younger than you. I can help protect you too."

The latter part comes out more in a childish grumble; one that warms up the ice that was claiming the surface area of your chest.

"Oh, is my younger brother now a knight in shining armour?" Lifting up your brow, you tapped a finger against your bottom lip with a sincere smile now itching to grow. "Or is it, a knight in shining Armani?"

"I think Armani." Another party joined the conversation with a whimsical laugh. It's a sound that brings a wave of tranquillity, so you more than welcome it. "He's too weak to carry armour."

"Right, anyone would appear weak in comparison to you, Oikawa." The younger boy showcased a charming smile, but the irritation underlying his words was clear.

The chestnut-haired male blew out another laugh before snaking an arm around your middle. The fluidity of his movements did not catch you off guard. This was all merely part of the performance. And the two of you, were no doubt, the best performers.

"Oh, you're so kind, little Reo. Maybe I should repay that kindness by teaching you how to work out?" After slowly leading your back to collide with his chest, Oikawa leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Unless Miss Y/N has an issue with that?"

Ahead of you, Reo narrowed his eyelids the slightest, while the emotion drained from his face. He knew that you and Oikawa were simply pawns on the chessboard. It was not as though you both had the luxury of free will. Yet, it bothered him how easily Oikawa could play the aloof asshole.

Nothing belonged to Reo. Not even his own body. Every part of his life was calculated from birth. The only reason he had the slightest bit of sanity was you. His older sister. The one who bore the punishments that would come if he made any errors. And the one who sheltered him from knowing the true torment that came with being a Mikage.

So, the fact that Oikawa Tooru could make light of Reo's physical state... It upset him. Especially, knowing that the only reason he was not completely skin and bones was because his sister would sneak him in food.

"You should consider training yourself a bit more, before giving out advice, my sweet Tooru." Sensing Reo's discomfort, this was the only response you could offer. Beside you, a pout settled onto Oikawa's mouth, and you were unable to ascertain whether he was genuinely upset.

"What's going on here? Are my three favourite people fighting?" The last individual to enter the conversation had your stomach in knots. Your mind was prepared for the mental warfare, yet your stomach raged with a dozen emotions. The muscles of your body, responding to the havoc ensuing inside of your stomach, also strained under the pressure of his gaze. Oikawa must have felt your sudden change in demeanour, as his grip around you tightened.

"No, father. We are not fighting. Please do not misunderstand." Over time, you had perfected a low and velvety tone. It was one that contained an essence that was both docile yet refined. In ways, it served as a defensive weapon. One that had saved you and Reo on countless occasions.

"Yes. I sincerely apologize if it seemed that way, Mr. Mikage." Oikawa matched your facade, yet stated his words with a royal-like confidence. It was a simpler task for him, as he was not afraid of your father, but his own.

"Well, alright. If there are no issues, let us all return to our table, hm?" The grey-haired male pressed his lips together into a faint smile, before motioning forward with a short and calculated hand gesture. "And Reo, be sure to stop by my office when we return home."

****

The shedding of blood commenced almost 15 minutes after the family returned home. The ominous comment issued towards your brother had you on high alert throughout the car ride. Reo did not utter a single word, instead his attention was fixed on the tiny droplets of rain sticking against the glass. Your parents, on the other hand, were speaking freely with each other about how delightful the banquet was. The Kise family hosted the banquet to express their gratitude towards the Mikages. They were another family who were "saved", without truly realizing that their saviours had more than a few skeletons in their closet. Under the Mikage dynasty was a blood-run river, one that exchanged souls for wealth.

Oh, it was also the banquet that caused you to delay your enrollment into Sacred Arms Academy. Not that it mattered now.

When the four of you entered the shared residence, you prayed your father had forgotten about his request. Ten minutes slipped on by, and he did not call out for Reo. Usually, if your father was to administer a punishment, it would happen immediately. So, you accordingly thought that it would be safe enough to at least take five minutes to change your clothes.

Only halfway into changing into a sweater, the sound of glass shattering brings your heart to sink into the pit of your stomach. Almost on autopilot, you quickly slip your arms into the sleeves and begin down the long staircase. For approximately 20 seconds, silence consumes the house. And it's once you reach the bottom of the staircase, do you hear your father's loud voice boom through the space.

"You dare disrespect the Mikage name? You dare?!"

Panic ignites inside of your muscles as you proceed closer to the study room. Based on your experience, rushing in could make the matter worse. However, standing there - in safety - while your brother was forced to endure abuse was also not an option.

"You are no longer at the weight you were assigned. Two pounds. You gained two pounds! It was enough for the Oikawa boy to even notice!"

How in the world could Tooru's comment be construed as a comment on weight gain? Honestly, your father's lack of critical reasoning was beyond your comprehension. The truth was, the old man was always looking for excuses to harm his children. It was not about the perfect image; it was about keeping them within his grasp. He craved complete and utter control, but he could never fully obtain it. Because he was not God. And you two were not his puppets. There was no way for him to completely strip you both of your individuality. And he hated you for it.

"I... I'm sorry..." This time it was Reo's gentle voice that cut through the air and pierced your heart. "I'll make sure to lose it..."

Oh, Reo. Your sweet, innocent Reo. It wasn't fair. None of this was. But soon, you'd be leaving him to fight for himself. And you knew deep inside, that you couldn't.

You absolutely could not do it.

"He won't be losing anything." Upon entering the study space, your eyes instantly searched for your younger brother. It only took a few seconds to find the purple-haired boy, on the floor with a superficial cut decorating his cheek. When you had heard the glass shatter, you had incorrectly assumed it was aimed at the wall. Now, that you were inside the room, you could see the impact was right beside Reo. "You threw a glass at him?"

Terror gripped your throat as you stared at the younger boy. But the pure dread animating his irises devastated you in a way it had never before.

"You... This is enough." Perhaps it was time for the bricks to break from the pressure of the well. And maybe that was the reason for the steaming liquid running down your cheeks. "We're not playing your stupid little game anymore. Do you understand, father!?"

Senior Mikage took a cautious step back upon hearing your words. He reasoned to himself that he had no reason to fear you and yet, this was a new reaction he had elicited. He was unsure just how far you would now take this.

"What insolence... What -"

"No. You do not get to curse us anymore. You will not lay a hand on us. Do you understand?" Adrenaline had you practically bouncing on the spot. Even if your father were to strike you now, you doubt you would feel it until tomorrow. All you could do was continue your proclamations and pray your father would not lift his hand again.

"In fact, you'll be enrolling Reo into the academy with me. And we'll both be leaving tomorrow. You will no longer have the privilege of living with your children. Do you understand me!?"

The only reason Reo was not joining you in the first place was due to your father's needless meddling. The two requirements for the academy were an undergraduate degree and a recommendation from a family of wealth. Those were two items within Reo's grasp, the only issue was your father.

"What... How dare you -" The older male could not process what was occurring at a reasonable pace. He had become far too comfortable in his artificial reality that he forgot that his children could choose to defy him. Once the varying forms of abuse were no longer effective, what was he to do? What was his plan?

Well, there was no plan. And that was why you were able to use the circumstances to your advantage.

"Come here, Reo." After wiping away the tears with the sleeve of your sweater, you curled your fingers into your palm to motion the younger boy forward. Although he was hesitant, Reo mustered the limited energy left in his body and removed himself from the floor. "This is the last night we'll ever stay in this haunted house. We're going to finally be free."

Once Reo was within arms reach, you took his hand in yours and without sparing your father a glance, exited the study space. To your dismay, you almost strolled straight into your mother who was clearly listening to everything from the foyer. Upon seeing her children, the older woman exhaled a breath while crossing her arms over her chest. Her behaviour did not coincide with that of a worried mother. Instead, she appeared disappointed, and that fact alone had the acids inside of your stomach churning in revulsion.

A mother who could bring herself to care for her own children was no mother at all.

"We'll clean up your wound first, Reo. Then we'll start packing." Your intentions were purposefully stated, to serve as a warning to both your mother and father. If either of them were to intervene, you were not completely sure what you would do. But the adrenaline soothed your concerns, whispering little lies about your indestructible state.

For now, pretending would be enough. But starting tomorrow, you'll commence your journey into discovering how to become more than skin and bones.

Taglist: @boosyboo9206 @hunnie-lily @valleyofheartz @pearl-blue-musings @moonlit-mizukage @lilith412426

#kuroo angst #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #haikyuu smau #hq smau #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #kuroo smau

[romirola]

Snippet Sunday

@floofdeloop was so very kind to share an in-progress collab with @sri-rachaa and to tag me! I’m only too happy to provide, pal! Since I’m late to the party, I’m not going to tag anyone else, but I will put out an open invitation to anyone who’d like to share a fic or art WIP snippet!

I’m sharing a snippet from the Redactedverse Tangled AU I’ve been drafting! 

Title: TBD, Rating: TBD (excerpt below is at T), Characters: Milo and Vega, Trigger Warnings: Emotional Abuse and Manipulation 

“Mmm, but you sound like you’ve forgotten,” Vega quipped, wagging a disapproving finger at Milo. “So let me remind you, Milo, dearest.” Vega snapped his fingers so that a smokey, hologram-like image appeared in front of himself and Milo. “We stay here to keep you safe. To keep you alive. Because out there…” 

The image twisted into the shape of a small wolf, lying alone in a wooded area. 

Milo’s lips twitched into a frown. He had seen this narrative play out so many times before, but despite knowing how the story would end, he could never bring himself to look away.

“People consider you a monster. A beast. Something to chase down and hunt and kill. Because you’re a shifter. A freak of magic and nature fused into a living, breathing mistake.” A mass of people with weapons, both magical and physical, charged towards the little wolf, who cowered in fear and curled into himself. “That’s why you were abandoned in the woods as a teeny tiny baby.” Vega waved his hand so that the image twisted into a crude rendering of Milo as an infant. “Once they knew who you were, what you were, they got rid of you just as soon as they could. ”

Milo’s eyes were glued to the image as Vega spoke.

“Left alone as a mere baby to succumb to dehydration, starvation, and the harsh elements of the Dahlian Forests,” Vega continued to claim, never mentioning the fact that it was he who kidnapped Milo from his pack all those years ago for a steady source of energy. “Unwanted by your own family! Unloved! Uncared for! Feared and hated, like a loathsome creature.”

Each word was like a knife in Milo’s gut. 

“And you would’ve surely died, had fate not been on your side that day.” Vega waved his hand again so that the image displayed a miniature-version of Vega walking up to the baby and taking him in his arms. “If I hadn’t stumbled upon you and showed you the kindness and compassion that your own kin never showed you.” Vega snaked his other arm around Milo’s shoulders. “And I took you back here, nursed you back to health, and raised you as my own child.” He gave a haughty, self-important eyebrow raise. “I gave you food, shelter, clothes. I provided you with the books and supplies so you could gain a thorough education.” 

Vega, of course, failed to mention that he made sure to scrub every last piece of educational information that would undermine Vega’s false claim that Milo’s identity as a shifter would ostracize him from society. He painstakingly ensured that not one iota of information that would jeopardize his master plan would ever enter the tower, especially the fact that the royal family of Dahlia was a pack of wolves. 

“I know, Dad,” Milo interjected weakly. 

“If you know, then why, Milo? Why do you insist on leaving this tower, a tower I crafted for your own survival and protection? And that’s not all I’ve done for you!” Vega gasped. “Let’s remember, I painstakingly showed you how to control your shifts when your powers manifested. I taught you how to dim your aura in case anyone ever tried to break in and hunt you down. I, a sadism-demon, of all beings, took pity on you. And you repay me by asking to leave our home? Our safe-haven? Aren’t you the least bit grateful for the compassion I showed you out of the goodness of my heart?”

#redacted asmr #redacted fanfiction #redacted au #tangled au #redacted milo #milo greer #redacted vega #Redactedverse

[felikatze]

i thought xenoblade chronicles was about a revenge story during the robot apocalypse but it's actually an extended metaphor for entitled parents

#xenoblade chronicles spoilers #Feli speaks #xenoblade chronicles #CMON. dont tell me zanza doesnt sound at least a little like an entitled father #actually just take his ch16 monologue and just put like #'i provide you with food and shelter. so THIS is how you repay me??' #if you made him less homocidal he'd complain that the people of bionis are adults still living in his house without paying rent #Specific Experience but the meyneth vs zanza fight is a lot like 'your parents who obviously hate each other finally confirm their divorce' #Very Specific Reading of the text but. if you are me you understand exactly what i mean.

[realmofimagines]

Brains Over Brawn || Viktor - Arcane || Part Four ||

Summary: The 10 times Viktor Needed her and the 1 time he left. OR. Strong Idiot GF with anger issues is Vik’s protector.

Pairing: F!reader x Viktor

Words: 4.06k

Warnings: Angst! Also I DID NOT proof read this whatsoever

Notes:

PART 4 OF 10

It had taken months to heal, a long and arduous process as well as incredibly painful for Ember but she persevered at every corner. Now only sporting a makeshift brace that kept her shoulder secured and her arm essentially intact until the healing process was over.

She had a slight limp, in fact pointing out how she and Viktor matched for the time being, until her stomach wound properly healed. But the one wound that refused to heal were the mental ones, scorned into the back of her mind as she had to come to terms with essentially killing four people.

While she was a brawler, she wasn’t a murderer. Killing people was never a part of her endgame. Their faces stuck with her, like burnt images that refused to fade. Even sleep had become a difficult feat, night terrors ripping her from her slumber having her drenched in sweat or screaming in pain.

And for the first time in their friendship, Viktor took care of Ember. Wherever he could. His family had been hospitable toward her while she healed, a debt she had no idea how to repay. They provided somewhere to sleep — even if it was Viktor’s floor — they offered food and shelter knowing that the girl had done more than was asked of her to keep their son safe. Most of all, she was his friend.

Viktor wasn’t going to let his friend sleep on the floor while she was recovering from severe injuries, no. And she was most definitely not going to let him sleep on the floor in favour of her taking the bed. So most nights they spent together in the same bed. It was spacious enough that the two needn’t squish together and despite their closeness, kept to their respective sides of the bed.

Many nights the two spent awake. The ones where they could sleep would be disrupted by night terrors which Viktor was always one to calm her down. Holding her hand tightly and brushing his fingers through her hair, until she stopped hyperventilating or crying.

This night was only slightly different from the rest, it was unusually quiet. So quiet that Viktor stirred awake, half expecting to hear his companion whimpering or mumbling in her sleep but when he turned to face her, he wasn’t particularly surprised to see her eyes open and staring up at the ceiling.

The blinds to his window were horrendously beyond repair so the moonlight beamed into the room uninterrupted which captured her features and the prominent scars she had.

“Sorry if I woke you,” she whispered so delicately, her eyes unmoved from the ceiling and had completely startled Viktor who had no idea how long she knew he was looking at her.

“Actually — it was the quiet that woke me up…” he admitted softly, rolling over completely so he could face her. Aiding her back to health only solidified his feelings toward her, and he felt only a little guilty for enjoying the time he could redress her wounds just so he had an excuse to touch her or have her eyes look into his.

She rolled over onto her arm and faced him fully, causing his breath to hitch at how close they were. Feeling her breath lightly fan his face just about made his heart stutter, trying to talk himself out of this silly lovestruck nonsense. Even if he was being overtly obvious about his feelings, Ember wouldn’t be able to tell. She wasn’t one to read subtlety in the slightest. In fact he had seen people be pretty obvious with her in the past and even then she was oblivious to it.

“What were you gonna tell me?” Her voice was quiet, quizzical almost without the context which was clearly essential as Viktor looked at her with a puzzled look. She bit down on her lower lip, which had sent his thoughts into overdrive as he tried not to look at her lips whatsoever. “—That night… You were gonna tell me something… But you said you’d tell me when I was better… and alive.” She almost chuckled at the last part, but the smile that ghosted her lips fell as she awaited Viktor’s answer.

He was quite surprised she remembered in all honesty, but he wasn’t anticipating this at all. Caught completely off guard by the question and the look in her eyes, he couldn’t say anything. Not when she was like this. He didn’t want to say anything, in fact he dredded and resented the idea of telling her just so he wouldn’t have to see her face when it registered in her brain.

He sighed, looking away from her, it was gut wrenching but he just had to rip the bandaid off and get it over with. “I’m impressed you remembered…” He trailed off, stalling the inevitable. “But… I was approached by a topsider… Said he was impressed with my detailed workings in engineering and… well offered me a place at the academy.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in, sure education was never something she pursued and the very few institutes in the undercity housed those willing enough to learn. But an Academy seemed much more exciting than an institute in her brain, her eyes lighting up in happiness for her friend, “A academy sounds much better than a institute!” Her voice got a little too excited and she immediately shrunk down realising she was being a bit too loud.

Viktor wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry or not, positive that this reaction was one because she didn’t understand what this meant from here on out. He didn’t even want to correct her on her grammar, finding his words caught in his throat as it dried up while he painfully sighed, “Ember… The Academy is in Piltover.”

Again, her expression hadn’t faltered but she was confused why Viktor seemed so upset about it, “well I get that… but — you sound like you don’t wanna go?” She frowned ever so slightly before brightening back up again, “well if you don't wanna go, we can always try someplace else, right? We could go to Demacia or anywhere you want!…Although I don't think they’d like me very much over there…”

His chest lurched with pain, his heart breaking at her inability to understand that he was the one going, and she would be left behind. He dreaded his next few words, but it was the only way to get her to understand, “you’re not coming with me… I spoke to the head of the Academy myself about maybe arranging something but —“

“It’s okay… Vik…” She sighed, seeing how worked up he was getting. She sat herself up, propping an arm across her upright knee, “I understand…”

The pain in his chest felt almost unbearable, sitting up beside her as he tried to look her in the face. Regretting that decision immediately upon seeing her sombre expression, and the way her chin shook, as if she was trying not to cry.

He placed a hand on her arm in comfort, causing her to look up and meet the gaze in his golden eyes.

Heartbreak. She was devastated. Not like she would ever admit it, but it was as clear as day to see even in the dim moonlight.

“I don’t have to go.” He reassured her, knowing that the letter of offer sat in his drawer unanswered for quite a few months and knew that they wouldn’t wait for his answer forever. Making decisions like this were tough, but he hadn’t had time to think about his future when half of his future was healing and needed to be taken care of.

She scoffed, “yes you do… You might’ve been born in the undercity but your people are up there… across the bridge…”

“You’re my people.” Viktor nudged closer to her, wanting nothing more than to comfort her but not knowing how to.

It was endearing to hear it, having had no family but having Viktor gave her this false sense of future, like they’d be together forever but realistically she knew better. She figured at some point they’d outgrow each other, two different fruits picked from the same tree but served different purposes in life.

As much as she yearned for adventure and a life of excitement, she knew she’d be stuck in the undercity, her skillset was almost identical to every other street rat with a hardened past. Viktor was different, he was smart, cunning and intelligent. He craved mental stimulation and the only place he could achieve that was to follow the path that was laid out for him. Even if that meant leaving her behind.

“I’m stupid but im not dumb… I knew this day would come soon — I just thought I'd have more time… But I want you to go…” She sighed, her bottom lip trembled as she tried not to let the emotions wash over her. Sure, Viktor had seen her cry plenty of times but this time felt different.

“I’m not leaving you behind —“

“Yes you are, Vik… it’s where you belong… It’s funny… being told for the longest time that you were my deadweight… but i’m your deadweight. And I won’t forgive myself if you don’t go because of me.”

He closed his eyes slowly, the pained breath that blew out from his lips was a sign that she was right. He just wasn’t cut out for the dog-eat-dog lifestyle that the undercity was rife with — but just because he wasn’t able to live in it, didn’t mean he couldn’t make it a better place if he tried.

“It’s not fair…” was all he could muster up, because it truly wasn’t. From the stories he was told of Piltover, the second anyone took a look at Ember, it would be over and she’d be cast out regardless of who she knew.

“Life isn’t fair… but we try our best with what we got.” She reached over and intertwined their hands together, both of them feeling the rush of emotions flood their system.

Over the last few months, it wasn’t just Viktor who had been struck by feelings of want and feelings of love. Ember had felt them too, making this night all the more bittersweet as the two soulmates experience what they believe is unrequited love.

She came accustomed to his touch over the time he dressed her wounds, enjoying the nights they spent together in the same bed so much that his presence alone was calming. And even more, she loved the way his fingers brushed through her hair when she couldn’t sleep.

“Now what do we do?” Her voice was sore, gravelly almost as she could feel the tears sting her eyes. The reality becoming more realised in her brain at the thought of not having Viktor around. She had no plan once he left, holding out that maybe he could visit her often which was better than not at all.

“I don’t know…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the bags under his eyes. He was at a loss, a complete and total loss of what to do. But when he looked over and saw the tears in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, his heart broke once again.

He shifted his position, letting go of her hand so that he could bring his hands to her face, wiping away the tears that fell with his thumbs. “I’ll still visit… I promise.”

Maybe it was the raw moment or the fact that both of them felt incredibly vulnerable and high in emotions, but the silence between them and the fact their faces drew closer together meant one thing only to them.

No matter what, they still had each other.

And when that clicked in both their minds instantaneously, they came as one, pressing their lips together. Viktor being inexperienced with just about everything when it came to this had let Ember take control, mimicking her motions.

The two felt like they were on fire, the heat from the kiss and their bodies reacting to such a fierce feeling was like they had been set ablaze but there was no pain, only warmth.

It was sweet and tender, and lasted a lot longer than either expected. But when they pulled away it was only a cruel reminder of something that wouldn’t last. Despite that feeling, they went in for another kiss, both of them holding each other this time.

Viktor leaned his forehead on hers, a slight pant as he forgot to breath both times, “I’m starting to think that staying here wouldn’t be such a bad thing…”

She gave him a pointed look, while complimented by his comment she knew that he wanted out of this shithole. “I’ll carry you all the way to Piltover if you do that…”

And that was a promise he knew she would keep if he dawdled any longer on his response to The Academy. But for the moment the two cherished this night together, stealing kisses and simply embracing one another all the way until Viktor fell into a deep sleep. It figures they would decide now to profess a naive love to one another right on the brink of the start of their lives.

Ember lay awake with Viktor passed out, sleeping on her chest and curled up by her side. She ran her fingers through his hair, laughing at how long it was getting. But she liked his hair long and unkempt, she supposed that moving to the upper class meant he'd have to keep it short and styled.

Her heart was aching, not ready for him to go but knew he needed to in order to thrive. She couldn't carry him everywhere through life, and that was something she'd have to accept on her own when he finally left.

But she knew how much he'd sacrifice for her given the chance, and the way his eyes looked into hers was a telltale sign the boy was indecisive about leaving her despite her words of reassurance.

She gave him one last look of admiration, before carefully slinking out from underneath him and out of the bed entirely. The moon was still high in the sky, which meant it would soon begin to drop as morning broke but she was quick, even with her temporary limp.

Her eyes scanned his desk, opening the drawerers to find what she was looking for. She couldn't read great, but she didn't need to in order to recognise the ornate lettering on the header of the piece of paper. She skimmed through the letter, picking out words that she knew already to ensure she wasn't about to deliver a highly prestigious academy a food menu or something.

With a pen he had laying on the desk she ticked the box that he needed to in order to accept his position and pocketed the piece of paper before leaving as quietly as possible.

Despite what many might think, The Undercity was quiet during this time, save for a few shady individuals. But the notion that it was crime riddled was preposterous at best. Vander did a great job at keeping things in check around here, even if that meant isolating the citizens to this district alone… rarely anyone set foot across the bridge, let alone any non-tradesmen type folk.

But with little people awake at this time, meant she could get to her destination quicker. The streets were barren at best, the only life she could detect were vermin, even as she closed in on the infamous bridge.

It dawned on her as she set her first foot on the bridge that she had no idea what the academy even looked like, let alone how to even get there. She'd never been to the city before and it wasn't like the separate districts within the city were public knowledge… at least for the undercity folk.

Her eyes looked to the moon once again, seeing that it had dropped from its highest point in the sky. She had a little over 3 or so hours to get this done and get out before every enforcer on Piltover chased her out of the city. Or worse.

It was a surprising sight seeing the bridge completely empty, she would've thought there would be at least a nightfill crew of enforcers ready to handcuff anyone brave enough to cross over at this time of night.

But she didn't trust the silence, or lack of enforcer presence. So she made herself scarce, scaling the side of the bridge despite the way her shoulder urged her not to, and despite the way her stomach screamed for the exertion to come to an end.

It was all painful motivation for her to continue, she was a fighter and a good one at that and even if she had to beat the door down on whoever the head of the academy was just to get Viktor in then so be it.

Scaling the bridge side proved harder than she initially thought but she made it across, even if it cost her time. As nerve wracking as it was to step foot in Piltover, her emotions were elsewhere. Giving her the drive she needed to set off into the city and to try and find where this letter belonged.

She stumbled around the streets, half in awe of the architecture and looming building and half in wonder if she was in the right place. But these buildings seemed far more like homes than they did anything else so she continued to wander the streets. Realising pretty quickly that she would have no idea where to get out if she needed a quick getaway.

But her luck began to turn positive when she stopped outside of a park that had on display a very childlike basic map of the city. Clearly it was meant for children but this meant everything to Ember who in her childhood obsession with sea adventures knew how to read a map more than proficiently.

She scanned the surface, following the groupings of districts and saw the words 'academic district' which didn't mean much to her, other than the word reminding her of 'The Academy'. It was a good lead for her to follow regardless, and she could read the city skyline for guidance. Knowing that the academy (by the childish pictures drawn on the map) was a rather large set of buildings with an incredibly angular building beside a clock tower.

When she looked up, she could see in the distance the top of a clock tower and grinned. An extra energetic pep in her stride as she followed that direction and kept in mind the height of the moon.

It was slowly descending and peaks of purple began to cut through the sky by the horizon which meant she didn't have a lot of time left, having exhausted most of it wandering around the city.

By the time she reached the buildings that she was in search of, daybreak had begun. The gated set of buildings were but a small hurdle for her climbing abilities, even with her healing injuries. She scaled the gates, clearly these were put in place to deter Piltovians but not the 'criminals' of the undercity who were actually able to scale these with ease.

Then again, they had little to no incentive to travel to the 'city of progress' when they were met with judging eyes and most likely detainment.

Her feet hit the ground with a thud and she continued forth, her eyes set on the ornate set of comically large doors in the centre building. She had no plan of how to actually deliver the letter without actively breaking in, which was a far worse crime than trespassing and she'd hate to have been taken away before the right person got a hold of the letter that was now in her hands.

"You're a lousy burglar… not many attempt to walk through the front door."

The voice startled her, catching her off guard as she looked around at the source of the voice, believing it to be disembodied at first since she couldn't seem to find where it belonged to.

"Down here."

She looked down, seeing what she assumed was a Yordle, jovial in his expression despite assuming she was here to rob the place. When he caught a look at her face his expression softened wondering why someone from the Undercity would be here of all places this early in the morning.

Ember wondered too, why he was out this early in the morning but didn't want to question in case she agitated him and he called the enforcers on her. Truthfully, he enjoyed watching the sunrise over the skyline, and for some reason something was beckoning him down by the academy grounds. Which he was glad he listened too.

"My friend is too stupid to know what's good for him… he's had this a while and it's his only chance of getting away from the Undercity." She admitted, handing the Yordle the piece of paper, the letter addressed to Viktor.

"Ah, you must be young Viktors friend… He asked about the possibility of having you accompany him but unfortunately that is simply not possible… you were brave to come this far and noble… perhaps sometime in the future we would have a place for you here at the academy."

"Thanks – but I'm not built for this life. I've had my fate sealed for a while." Her melancholic expression saddened the yordle. Guilt filling him from within for his inability to do anything to help her.

"I'm sure Viktor will honour you for this… I've yet to see someone with quite as much potential as him but you are a close second." He tucked away the letter, his words providing a strange amount of comfort for her. "We'll send for him before the end of the day."

She nodded, a bittersweet expression on her face, "good. It's easier this way. Please treat him right… it's what he deserves. And tell the head of the Academy I said thanks, for giving him a chance when no one else did."

He offered her a knowing smile, "you are welcome to escort him to the academy grounds."

She shook her head, tears threatening to blur her vision, "he won't go if I'm with him… if it isn't too much to ask though… I'm not great at writing and I wanna leave him with something at least… I don't care if he hates me for it, I just want him to know something."

The Yordle took out a pen and flipped over Viktor's letter. Highly unprofessional but it was the least he could do for the girl who travelled all the way, sacrificing getting caught just to hand deliver the letter.

"I'll tell him personally these were your words." He reaffirmed, seating himself on one of the steps while he waited for the girl to start talking. Despite her dismissal, she was great with words, she just didn't know how to articulate things properly. He helped her with the big words, crossing out her simplified wording if she got frustrated with finding the right words. If she had a little care and development, the Yordle might have considered her being a poet in the future, but she made her stance clear.

And when she was ready to leave, she scanned the note a final time before leaving. It read as such:

Dear Viktor,

I know you might be confused, maybe angry or upset with me. But this is your future. We aren't kids anymore and it's time we start to look ahead. Even if that means separately. It wouldn't be fair to drag you along silly fantasies when your mind needs more energy stimulation.

We've been friends for such a long time that it will take time to move past this. Not being with you everyday, not having someone there. Just know I don't think you're leaving abandoning me in any way. I did this for you, just like you'll stay here for me.

You have been the one thing in life I look forward to having around, so until we meet again.

I love you always,

Ember.

#Viktor #Viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #Arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #reader insert #viktor #League of legends #fluff #angst #x reader #arcane

[catacomb231]

Rent Free|Dabi x Reader

You were stuck in this stupid deal. A deal you couldn't get out of.

A couple of months ago, you were about to be assassinated by a villain, but a scarred man named Dabi had came to your rescue. You recognized him from the News.

After Dabi saved you, he said that after saving you, you must repay him.

"I'll do anything! Just name it!" You tell him.

"I need a place to stay and go without getting caught by the police and pro heroes. YOU will provide that. Deal?" He asks you.

"Deal." You reply in a heartbeat.

You thought he would only need to stay for a few weeks, so you agreed. But you actually basically just allowed Dabi to come to your apartment when he wanted, either injured or not, eat your food, stay for a few night, before leaving.

You slowly started warming up to him though and you both gained a friendship. Except you had feelings for him, but it was never the right time to tell him.

He would only stay for the minimum of a week, and then leave for days, weeks, months, EVEN YEARS on end, only to return and act like nothing was happening.

Act like what he was doing wasn't hurting you.

Coming home after a year, covered in cuts and bruises and broken bones that you needed to heal. Once he was all better, he would leave again for who knows how long.

You were honestly irritated with him at this point. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him, but even if he returned the feelings, he would just leave you again.

Leave you all alone without any way to contact him or know how long he'd be gone.

You started to despise him because of it.

So now in present time, it has been about 2 years since you last saw or even heard from. You felt so alone and your feelings felt empty.

That was until you heard your front door open and close. You turn to see the burnt scarred face you had seen before. You knew it was Dabi, but for some reason, it felt like you didn't recognize him anymore.

"Hey I'm back." He says walking into the living room. For once, he wasn't injured, but that was no excuse. He sat down on your couch, but you couldn't hold it in anymore.

He needed to know he was hurting you like this.

"Yeah well that isn't an excuse!" You tell him.

"Excuse me?" He asks confused.

"Do you realize how much you've been hurting me?! Showing up for a few days, all bloody and bruised, only to leave for an unknown amount of time?!" You yell angrily.

"Why do you even care so much??" Dabi asks standing up. "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!!" You yell, which shocks him.

"Yet you just leave without telling me! And I'm forced to worry for who knows how long! And if you're not gonna stay permanently, then get out!" You yell.

He stood there speechless, hoping you weren't serious. But your angry face with tears streaming down it proved you were.

"You heard me! GET OUT!" You yell pointing towards the door.

He eventually walks over and gives you one last glance before leaving, closing the door behind him.

That's when it sunk in.

That's when you fell down to your knees and broke down crying violently. You couldn't stop it.

You knew you couldn't keep sheltering him, but it still broke your heart as your feelings still stayed with you.

But it was better being hurt now than later on when Dabi ends up coming back in such a bad condition that he doesn't have long, or he would just never return.

A few days pass and Dabi hadn't come back. You were slightly glad that he listened to you, but you were mostly heartbroken and just a mess.

Your hair was ragged and ugly from not brushing it, your eyes were bloodshot from crying, and you had bags under your eyes from no sleep.

Your apartment was also littered with dirty snotty or wet tissues from crying.

You were just a mess.

That's when you heard a knock on your door. You walk over and open it, not expecting to see Dabi standing there with a plastic bag of food and a trash bag with other essentials like clothes.

He smirks at you. "You wouldn't mind if I just stayed for a small 5 or 6 years, would you Dollface?" He asks.

You smile and hugs him tightly, now able to b happy. Happy to know he would stay with you.

Forever.

#mha #bnha #mha reader insert #mha dabi angst #dabi angst #dabi x reader #mha dabi x reader #mha dabi #touya x reader #touya imagine #dabi x female reader #dabi x reader angst

[moonlit-imagines]

Heirloom (Part 2)

Din Djarin x Fett!reader

warnings:

a/n: lmk if you’re interested in a part 3!

prompt:

part 1

It’d been five years since you’d seen anything but sand, but you did pretty well out there, all things considered. Bounty hunting was in your blood, but this Mandalorian bounty hunter wasn’t interested in anything of the sort at the moment.

So you went from planet to planet, doing favors and tracking down people to assist Mando and the Child on your journey. You couldn’t complain much, he did save you from a lifetime of boredom and despair.

So you helped a frog woman, met more Mandalorians, clashed with a Jedi, and were finally led somewhere useful to conclude the Child’s journey.

“That’s the place, right?” You asked Din as the Razorcrest approached a planet said to have a Jedi “seeing stone.” Grogu sat on your lap, curiously peering up at you and grabbing your thumb.

“Yeah,” he answered with a hint of disappointment in his voice, you couldn’t ignore that, “this is where Ahsoka told us to go. And it might be where our journey with Grogu ends.” You frowned and looked down at the young creature, who was now hugging your arm.

“Don’t worry, little buddy. I could never forget about you.” You scratched the top of his head and kept him steady during the landing. It was a beautiful planet, you admired the scenery as soon as you stepped off the ship. “I could stay here forever, Mando. How about you?”

“Hand him over.” Din instructed with his arms out, waiting for you to give him his pride and joy. You honestly didn’t want to, the kid was growing on you.

“Fine. I should probably get my armor on anyways. Never know what we might run into.” Grogu reached out for Mando as you handed him off, but he decided to walk ahead of you as you got ready. “Hey, come on! At least let me get the breastplate on!” You called out, carefully running up behind him.

“You seem to have it under control.” He shrugged as the two of you began to climb the mountain.

“At least try to be courteous.” You groaned, straightening out your beaten Beskar armor. “Right, Grogu?” The child cooed at the sound of his name. “See? He agrees with me.”

“He just likes hearing his name, we’ve been over this.” Mando told you, watching your helmet envelop your head.

“Feels good to be in my element.” You told him, nearing the final destination. “Not that it ever was, it was just supposed to be.”

“Yeah, well, after Grogu finds his people, I’ll teach you what your father couldn’t. Deal?” Mando offered officially, leaving your beaming smile hidden by your helmet.

“Deal.” You reached your hand out to shake on it, and although it was brief, it did happen. Now you’d reached the stone, which didn’t seem like much. “I guess just,” Mando set Grogu onto the center platform, “yeah, that.”

After a few empty moments, the stone had activated like something you’d never seen before. It was Forcefield protecting the child from any sudden danger.

“Wasn’t expecting that, were you?” You asked Mando while crossing your arms.

“I don’t know what I was expecting.” He admitted, intently supervising his little one. That is, until a ship entered the atmosphere. One unfamiliar to him, but a distant memory to you.

“Holy banthas.” You muttered, removing your helmet in disbelief as Mando began to panic.

“Stay here and protect Grogu.” He instructed as you ran off to the ship’s landing site. “Y/N?! Hey, stop!” You couldn’t stop if you tried. There were two possibilities here. You thought it was too good to be true, but maybe you’d score a ship that was rightfully yours. To be discovered. “Fett, get back over here!”

“I have to get to that ship! This is personal!” You shouted back to him, picking up the pace. It wasn’t long before he discovered he couldn’t do anything at the stone, he might as well help you, the other kid he decided to take under his wing. Mando was really trying to keep up with you, but you were too eager to quit.

The glare of the sun blocked your view of who stepped off the platform, but you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“If it isn’t my only child, I knew we’d meet again someday.” Boba greeted, causing you to drop your guard and run straight for him.

“I thought you were dead,” you told him as he engulfed you in a hug, but things took a slight turn when you smacked him in the chest, leaving him puzzled, “where the hell did you go?! I was stranded on Tatooine for five kriffing years!”

“Don’t use that tone with me, kiddo.” Your father warned you while Mando awkwardly stood to the side to watch your family drama play out. “I got into some trouble on that sand planet, I couldn’t rope you into it.”

“So you thought that it’d be better for me to become an orphan at ten?” You argued, in a heated rage over the sudden realization that you didn’t have to be scrounging for food and shelter for years on your own.

“I managed just fine when the Jedi killed my father.” Boba and you stood off face-to-face, practically growling at each other.

“Circumstances were different, bounty hunters had your back.” What kind of father would leave his kid to fend for themself when he’d gone through the same thing before?

“What do you call that guy over there?” Your father pointed to Din.

“Just met him a few days back, that doesn’t change the fact that I was alone.” You were about to go on, but a less familiar face came from Slave I to warn you of something, you cut her off just before she could start. “And who the hell is that?”

“Fennec Shand, I owe your dad my life.” She introduced herself with nothing but that, “and I’d cool it for a minute. We’ve got Imps incoming.” The woman pointed skyward at Imperial ships.

“The kid!” Mando gasped, taking off before you tried to do the same.

“Fennec, help the Mandalorian.” Boba instructed, gripping onto his formerly owned armor. “I believe this belongs to me.”

“You’re joking, right?” He sternly stared you down, to which you loudly groaned and tossed him the helmet before removing the various other pieces. “Guess you just don’t care if I get shot, huh?”

“You’re a Fett, you’ll manage.” He assured while finally being able to put his armor back on after all these years. You dismissed yourself promptly to back up Mando against the swarming stormtroopers that you couldn’t wait to knock down. You were never too fond of the Empire.

“Where’s your armor, y/n?” Mando asked, throwing himself in front of you before the blasterfire hit. He saved your life is what he did.

“My old man just robbed me, let’s hope that what you taught me stuck or else I’m not making it off this planet!” You explained, ducking under his arm to take down a few troopers.

“I won’t let that happen, y/n. Not on my watch.” Mando and you continued to fight side by side, providing each other with all the assistance you needed as it rained blasterfire.

“Think the Child is okay?” You questioned while activating a grenade and chucking it towards a horde of hostiles.

“As long as he’s in that Forcefield, he should be safe!” Mando told you as he thinned out the crowd. It wasn’t long before Boba launched a rocket at the airborne cruisers, taking down two birds with one stone. “Nice shot.”

“I was aiming for the other one.” Your father admitted, a triumphant moment swiftly crushed as the Razorcrest was blown to pieces. You yelped at the sight, covering your mouth as you looked to Din.

“Grogu!” You exclaimed while backtracking to the Child, Boba took to his ship while the rest of you went to retrieve him. Just a few seconds too late, dark troopers had kidnapped him and stripped Din of everything he had within the minute. Now, your father tried his best to help, but what could he do when he wasn’t allowed to shoot?

Boba returned to the ground and watched as Mando sorted through the wreckage of his ship.

“I was ashamed.” He said while the two of you were aside.

“Huh?” You gave your father an odd look as you cocked your brow.

“You watched me suffer defeat in such a humiliating way. A malfunctioning jetpack was not the way I imagined I’d go.” Boba admitted, removing his helmet to give you a heartfelt look. “But I knew you could handle yourself out there because you’re a Fett. That doesn’t make it right, but I hope that I can.”

“Oh...I guess we’ll see.” You looked over to Mando, who just found the Beskar spear in the rubble. “At least you can try and one-up your last death, right?” You and your dad chuckled as Mando approached.

It was here that your father explained that he owed the Mandalorian a debt for caring for you, one he’d repay by getting the Child back.

Now, all was not forgiven. Deep down, you would always feel abandoned and betrayed by your father, but maybe the future held something better for you. Just take it one step at a time.

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @lotsoffandomrecs // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi //

#din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x fett!reader #din djarin #mandanlorian #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #mandalorian imagine #mando x fett!reader #mando imagine #mando x reader #mando #fett!reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett #boba fett imagine #boba fett x daughter!reader #boba fett x son!reader #boba fett x child!reader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine

[thereisnochillinsideme]

The Rain, Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi didn’t really mind the rain.

It was just nature doing its job and providing Earth with water.

Rain was rain.

But as he stood in the doorway of the tall glass building where he worked, he couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed at the occurrence of this weather because he needed to get home and contrary to his usually meticulous nature, he didn’t bring an umbrella.

He leaned against the door, trying to formulate a route to his apartment that would leave his clothes slightly dry, but came up with absolutely nothing.

He waved to his coworkers as they left under their umbrellas, having foreseen this crude weather on the news, which Akaashi didn’t see that morning.

He stayed at the entrance of the office building, under the shelter of the small ledge over his head, and just watched the sea of people with their black and navy blue umbrellas, hoping maybe the rain would stop. Alas, he knew his prayers wouldn’t be answered as the clouds didn’t seem to be moving anytime soon. He sighed, glazed-over eyes scanning the street again. At this moment, all he wanted was Nanohana no Karashiae. It was quite inconvenient that his favorite food was one that in season during spring and was accompanied by large downpours and storms.

As his observant eyes took in the environment around him, something caught Akaashi’s attention. Amid the dark blue and black of the umbrellas, he spotted one that stuck out like a sore thumb. It was an umbrella, like the others, but it was an obnoxiously bright neon yellow that hurt the eye to look at. It reminded him of the jackets that the Itachiyama Institute’s volleyball team wore to their matches, but much more bright and obnoxious. Beneath the umbrella was a young woman in a hoodie and sweatpants holding a grocery bag with the logo from the family-owned shop across the street. She seemed to feel the eyes on her and looked around wildly until she spotted Akaashi in front of the glass building, face stoic and eyes unwavering. She gave a wave and smile far too bright for a day like this. The smile held such good intentions that it almost tempted Akaashi to smile himself, but remembering his circumstances, his face stayed the same. The woman began pushing through the sea of umbrellas until she made her way to Akaashi, the sound of the water hitting her umbrella like a drum. She finally pushed through the last few people and stood in front of Akaashi, panting from the effort.

“Hi,” She breathed.

“Can I help you?” Akaashi asked, confused.

“I noticed you didn’t bring an umbrella.”

She took Akaashi’s hand and put the cane of the umbrella right into it before turning around, putting her grocery bag on her head.

“I’m not too far from here, I can make a run for it.”

And then she started running, the grocery bag bearing the beat of the rain as her legs carried her fast through the street…

…only for her to collapse by the curb after 7 feet.

Akaashi was instantly worried about her and quickly made his way over with the umbrella to check on her. He found her looking happily at the grocery bag.

“That’s a relief! I thought my cake got wet, but it’s completely dry!”

Akaashi took a couple seconds to process what she had said before humor overtook him and he doubled over and started laughing.

The woman stared at him in amazement. “So you can smile, Stoneface-san!”

He wiped a couple of stray tears from the corners of his eyes before looking back at her, holding the umbrella over the both of them, moving to let others pass.

“Stoneface-san? What kind of a name is that?”

“You looked so stoic that I thought someone carved your face into stone.”

“Anyone would be annoyed to be stuck without an umbrella in this weather.”

“True, true. But I did give you my umbrella.”

“And look where that got you. You know we could have shared.”

“That would be such a cliche.”

“No, that would be efficient. Get up, you’re getting wet.”

Akaashi lent her a hand to lift her off the pavement as she picked up her grocery bag.

“Where do you live?”

When she said her address, Akaashi’s eyes went wide.

“What the hell? That’s on the other side of the city! You’d have to take two taxis and a train to get there! You said you weren’t very far! Were you planning to keep that grocery bag on your head the whole way back?! Why are you even here on this side of the city?”

She shrugged, holding up the grocery bag. “There’s good cake here.”

“You came here to get cake in this weather?”

“Weather doesn’t really impact the quality of cake, Stoneface-san.”

“The trains are shut down too due to a railway issue so you can’t get home!”

Akaashi started fiddling with his fingers, as he usually did when he was anxious. He couldn’t just leave this woman in the street.

She began to look concerned, so Akaashi regained his composure. "Do you have friends here who you can stay with or something?”

“Uh, yeah, I have a friend who lives at xxx-xxx, apartment 17.”

The address sounded familiar to Akaashi and he faltered for a moment before realizing that it was his neighbor, Takahashi Yoriko, the museum curator. They had a casual friendship, not really speaking unless she needed Akaashi to take care of her cat or he needed her to water his plants.

“That’s my neighbor, I’ll get you there.”

As they walked to the building, the woman regaled Akaashi with descriptions of all the different cakes in the shop. Akashi began to wonder how she could remember every detail of the white frosting flowers piped onto a chocolate cake, but be enough of an idiot to come to the other side of the city in this weather and then giving her umbrella to a stranger.

Upon reaching the apartment building, Akaashi entered the code for his neighbors apartment and let the woman speak into the intercom.

“Yo-chan It’s me!”

Akaashi heard the woman gasp on the other side of the intercom.

“[Name], what are you doing here? You live so far away! And the trains are down!”

“Funny story, I took a train here and got stuck. Then I met Stoneface-san!”

“Stoneface-san?”

Akaashi awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking into the intercom.

“Hello Takahashi-san, i was getting home from work before I found your friend here.”

“Akaashi-kun I’m so sorry you had to take responsibility for her. Let me buzz you up.”

After taking an elevator up to Akaashi and Takahashi’s floor, [Name] bounced over and knocked three times on the door right next to Akaashi’s. It was opened by an obviously irked woman, but [Name] didn’t seem to care about the clear annoyance on her face, jumping towards her with a bright smile, arms outstretched for a hug.

“Yo-chan-“

She stepped quickly to the side, causing [Name] to clumsily fall on the Welcome mat in the doorway. Takahashi ignored her and instead looked to Akaashi, clear worry and remorse on her face.

“I’m so sorry. Did she bother you?”

“Not at all, happy to help.”

“Well, I need to repay you in some way. I have some hot chocolate on the stove.”

“Yay! Hot chocolate!” [Name] happily exclaimed from the floor.

Takahashi turned back towards her briefly. “Not for you. You were the one stupid enough to get stuck in the rain and make Akaashi-san help you.”

[Name] groaned, lifting herself off the Welcome mat and stalked off towards the bathroom. Takahashi turned back to Akaashi.

“It really was no problem. It was actually her who helped me. I hadn’t carried an umbrella and she tried to give me hers. She ended up falling down and I suggested we share the umbrella and I brought her here since she can’t get home in this weather.”

“That’s [Name] for you. Kind, but stupid. I always wonder how she managed to make it to adulthood.”

“Well, with such good friends, i imagine she always had someone to watch her back.”

Yoriko smiled. “I’m just here to dissuade her from eating too much cake.”

She then looked down at Akaashi’s dripping clothes and briefcase and the neon yellow umbrella that was now soaking the floor.

“I’ll let you drop off your stuff at your apartment and you can come right back for dinner. I have to thank you some way for taking care of my overgrown child of a friend.”

She closed the door behind her, walking off to help [Name].

As Akaashi walked to his apartment, he felt the small urge to smile. He felt a small sense of gratitude that he hadn’t seen the news that morning, as he suspected that the routine events of his day wouldn’t be as entertaining as [Name].

Part 2 or no Part 2? What a dilemma we have.

#akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq akaashi #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

[malereader-inserts]

Coffee and Chocolate

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Male!Reader Summary: All Elijah wants is your attention, but he’s going about it the wrong way Word Count:  1,006 Request: “ Would you be able to write an Elijah Mikaelson x reader where he makes them coffee every morning and gives them chocolates as gifts to make the day better but really the reader doesn't like coffee and only drinks some of it cause he made it and they keep all the chocolates in a box cause they don't like chocolate and they don't have the heart to throw it out or give it to someone else?”

“Is the great (Y/n) drinking coffee?” Damon teased as you enter the Salvatore Boarding house.

You flipped him off, gripping the hot thermal bottle in hand, “Elijah made it for me.”

“Ah, of course,” Damon nodded, pouting his lips as you sighed, narrowing your eyes at the vampire, “You just can’t say no to the Original. Is wittle (Y/n) scared of him?”

“No,” You bitterly told the immature vampire, venom dripping within your tone, “Elijah is actually lovely person, unlike you Damon, I just don’t have the heart to tell him that I don’t like coffee.”

“Which explains why Caroline and Elena keep stealing boxes of chocolate?” Damon asked as you looked annoyed, “They say they get it from you, and last time I heard you hate chocolate.”

“Elijah gives me them and -”

“You don’t have the heart to tell him that you retch over chocolates.”

You sighed as Damon follows you to the kitchen as you dump the rest of the content of coffee in the sink. Damon smirked as you rolled your eyes. You started to wash out the thermal bottle, making sure it the smell of coffee had disappeared. 

“I like Elijah, I just don’t want his efforts to go to waste.”

It’s not like you don’t appreciate his gestures, you like the little things that Elijah does for you. You were living with the Mikaelsons after Klaus had heard that you were getting kicked out from your family’s house and you had nowhere to go with almost no money. Klaus provided you with shelter and you got yourself a job and continued your studies, even if Klaus had dropped a couple of hundreds in your bank account.

Elijah liked your company, you were quite opposed to Kol and Rebekah’s living habit. He found comfort in your presence and perhaps one of the few humans he actually likes. He knows more about humans, so as you make yourself food and study around the manor. He sees you getting stressed when you’re in your little bubble of studying and when you get dragged into doing research for Damon or even Klaus.

He repays you, or at least do little things to get your attention. Whilst your attention is mostly on Damon, Elena, Caroline, Klaus and even Rebekah, they always brag how much of a nice person you are. So, he makes you coffee in the morning when you look so tired that you can barely lift your spoon up for your cereals and gets you chocolate in hopes it cheers you up.

“But, you hate coffee!” Caroline exclaimed as you shrugged your shoulder.

“Elijah’s coffee tastes nice.”

“You’re just saying that.”

You appreciate his efforts, and the chocolates he gives to you, and you never have the heart to give them away or throw them out, so you hide them in your locker so when a break comes during the day, you could guarantee that one of your friends would steal it out of your locker - makes you feel less bad.

“You should tell him,” Stefan mumbled as you two enter the Grill, seeing the Mikaelsons hanging about.

Klaus had noticed you and waved, you smiled and waved back. You turned to look at Stefan, who raised an eyebrow, you shrugged your shoulders.

“And say what? Makes me sound rude and-”

“You’re telling the truth,” Stefan affirmed as he grabs your wrist to drag you to Damon and Ric playing pool.

“Is wittle (Y/n)-”

“Don’t finish that, Damon,” You hissed as Ric offers you the pool stick, snatching it as the human history teacher snickers as he imagines you staking Damon with the equipment, “You’re just as annoying as the others, if not more!”

The four of your played pool as Elena, Caroline and Bonnie came to hang out, you hand the stick to Ric, watching Stefan take his shot, teaming with his brother. Elijah couldn’t help but noticed despite your foul mood when you entered the building, it had disappeared and was enjoying the company of your friends.

Admittedly, he was jealous of the attention that Damon was receiving from you. He watched how Damon took a shot at the table, causing you to moan and flip him off. The vampire teased you and laughed as you kicked him before smacking him out the way so you could take your shot. There was laughter coming from you.

“Oi, go get me a drink!” Damon shouted as you move to the bar to grab yourself a drink.

Klaus noticed this, that you were going to be alone, as he shared a stare with his siblings. Patting Elijah on the back before “accidentally” pushing him forcefully towards your direction. Rebekah pulled her foot out, causing Elijah to trip and you catching him effortlessly.

“Got you falling for me?” You asked cheekily, bright eyes and a charming smile.

“My siblings are idiots,” Elijah replied, straightening and fixing his suit.

You rolled your eyes as you make your way to the bar, having a light conversation with him. 

“Well, it’s my turn to shoot,” You tilted your head towards the gang, who were waiting.

“Of course, I’ll see you at home.”

You smiled, “You know, Elijah, you don’t need to do stuff for my attention.”

He tilts his head, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not following, “Excuse me?”

You chuckled, “Coffee and chocolate? I’ll admit, I’m not a big fan of coffee or chocolate, but I appreciate the nice things. If you were doing it to get my attention, don’t worry, you’re not hard to forget.”

“Oh-?”

“You’ve always got my attention, Elijah.”

You leave him by himself, handing Damon his drink as you put your drink down and taking the stick from Ric, putting one of the balls into the corner. The girls cheering as you high-fived Ric. You looked at Elijah from across the room, smiling and winking at him before continuing your game.

Elijah sighs, but a smile had lifted upon his lips - he likes knowing he always has your attention.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x male!reader #x male reader #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries x male reader

[alionne]

1 | Foster

MSQ spoilers up until the 65 dungeon. 1027 words.

(I did get a blowtorch for my birthday last week, so the combination of looking for foods to set on fire and this prompt may actually make me make bananas foster)

It is rare that Alionne finds herself with nothing to do. There is usually someone doing something that she can try her hand at, but it’s a particularly chilly night in Ishgard, and the streets of the Pillars are near-empty, as if everyone has decided that tonight would be a good night to indulge in rest.

And… she should probably be resting, too. Tomorrow, she and Estinien are to properly test Biggs and Wedge’s new manacutters, and set forth to do battle with Nidhogg himself. But testing brand-new airships alone might keep her from sleeping early, and the thought of battling dragons tomorrow has Alionne’s blood singing in anticipation.

Still, there’s nothing to be done out here, so she returns to Fortemps Manor. Perhaps the head chef will relent and let her in the kitchens, for once. What Alionne lacks in culinary talent, she’s sure she can make up for in enthusiasm and knife skills.

Fortunately (for the Fortemps staff, at least, who have insisted, repeatedly that a guest cannot be allowed to help, it would be terribly rude of them) Count Edmont catches her on the way.

“Alionne,” he calls from his study, and Alionne enters, just catching her gracious host tucking away a large journal.

Edmont gestures to a seat across the desk, which she takes, feeling slightly like a child in a teacher’s office. “Biscuit?” he offers, which doesn’t alleviate the feeling in the slightest. “Alphinaud mentioned your plans to assault Nidhogg. I can tell you are a woman of action, and I thought I might divert you, this evening, with some company.”

Hm. Okay. Entertaining their host feels like a duty Alphinaud might assign her, which helps her restlessness somewhat. “I could do with some diversion,” Alionne admits. “I have never been one for sitting idly.”

“You remind me of Haurchefant, when he was younger,” says the Count, with a slightly bitter smile. “Always running about, though I hear he has learned the value of words by now.”

Alionne returns the smile, hoping it doesn’t look as awkward as she feels. The relationship between Edmont and Haurchefant is… complex, she’s figured out that much.

Luckily, Edmont is happy to continue talking. “It’s the cold. Ishgardians were ever fond of the written word— journals make up a third of the works in the Saint Endalim Scholasticate— and now, with our freezing clime, the nights offer little else but an excuse to withdraw to pen and page.”

“Is that what you were doing when I came in?” Alionne asks.

“Indeed,” agrees Edmont. “Have you any interest in journaling?”

Alionne can’t help but wrinkle her nose at the thought, and Edmont laughs. “A few more nights like this, and perhaps you’ll give it a try. We’ll make you a child of Ishgard, one day.”

“Ishgard has been a home unlike any I’ve known,” Alionne admits. “Mostly because of you and yours.” The Waking Sands had been nice, but Alionne had been eager to prove herself, and as promising as the Rising Stones had been, they’d barely gotten set up before… everything. Haurchefant, and Aymeric, and all of Fortemps had been welcoming, first and foremost. Sure, she and Alphinaud had sought to make themselves as useful as possible, but it had never been an expectation. It was greatly comforting, and goodness knows the remaining Scions (for now, Alionne reminded herself sternly) had especially needed some comfort. After… everything.

“Full glad am I to hear that we have welcomed you,” says Edmont, “but fair unhappy, as well, to hear that you did not find such welcome as a child.”

And… oh. Thinking of home, and Alionne hadn’t thought of her family at all.

“My childhood was not an unhappy one,” she says, stumbling over herself to not give Edmont the wrong impression. Two parents who loved her well enough, nothing like… well, Haurchefant’s childhood must have been. “But my family is… particular. I don’t think any of them understood why I wanted to leave them, or even venture into the world at all.”

“One not need understand their children to support them,” says Edmont, rueful. “Halone knows, whenever I think I understand mine, I seem to be off the mark.”

Whatever expression Alionne is making causes him to look apologetic. “I didn’t mean to suggest your parents are… better than your experience of them. Indeed, I wish they’d been more supportive. I wish I’d been more supportive of my children, growing up,” he confides, and Alionne decides that it is the perfect time for a strategic biscuit, because she has no idea what to say.

“It’s taken me years to learn… well, it was never about understanding. I now strive to provide my family with a place where, regardless of understanding, they can find food, and shelter, and guidance, be it on how best to serve Ishgard, or how to distract themselves for a night,” he says, gesturing to Alionne. “A home, where they will be welcomed. If they forgive you, and accept it,” he says, a distant look in his eyes, and Alionne doesn’t need to ask which child he’s thinking of.

“And if you are lucky,” he continues, “your children will repay you in kind. They may not understand you, but they will emulate the best parts of you, mixed with the best parts of themselves.”

Alionne thinks of the last Fortemps who offered her food and shelter and guidance, and thinks that Haurchefant may be more like his father than either realizes, which is why she’s so surprised when Edmont continues, “Take you, for instance.”

It takes a moment for Alionne’s brain to restart, and based on Edmont’s slight smile, he knows it. “Me?”

“You came to Ishgard without an understanding of our customs, or our history. You know the origins of our war, now, but you do not understand it the way someone who grew up with it would. And yet, you are storming Nidhogg’s keep tomorrow, in support of our cause.”

“I… well, I— that is—“

“A warm meal, a space to rest, some conversation— you will always find them, here,” Edmont promises. A home, he doesn’t say, but Alionne hears it nonetheless.

#spoilers for level 65 #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #edmont de fortemps #my concept of family is not the same as edmont's but that's ok it's still rather sweet #i'm not sure I'm capable of writing something under 1k so we'll see how many days of ffxivwrite I do #ali writes

[thetravelerwrites]

Sheng (Part 2) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Yeren Additional Tags: Exophilia, Yeren, Chinese Yeti, Bigfoot, Sasquatch Content Warnings: Slavery, Indentured Servitude, Gladiator Words: 5545

The conclusion to the story commissioned by @floral-and-fine​! After three years, the reader returns to repay Sheng's generosity. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Sheng’s friend Rantha was a large, black minotaur, you discovered. He and Sheng had been raised together at the arena. Rantha had had the makings of a top-winning gladiator when he was young, but he left after he killed a man during a bout, deciding that fighting wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life.

He now made a living as a hunter and was married with two sons, living in a quaint cabin in the forest, which is where he took you when you left the city. You had given Edgar the extra papers you’d found before you made your escape, not certain what they were, but hoping Edgar could do something with them and help other people unjustly imprisoned find freedom, or at least justice.

Mercy, Rantha’s wife, was a cheerful and accommodating woman. She had a shriveled left arm, an affliction she’d had since childhood, but she managed to do things one-handed with little to no trouble at all. When you told her about how your own family had sold you into slavery to pay off their debts, she had told you about being left here in the forest to starve by her mother.

However, it was only because of that that she was able to meet and marry Rantha in the first place. She knew she was lucky, though; if Rantha hadn’t been here and she’d been left at an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere with no help, she wasn’t sure if she’d still be alive. As much as you empathized with her, it did make you feel better knowing that her own sad tale had a happy ending. You hoped you and Nhemi had a happy ending waiting for the two of you, as well.

Nhemi, who’d grown up a slave, wasn’t used to not having any work to do and was a little confused by the change. Honestly, you were feeling out of sorts, too. Rantha and his family gave you food and shelter with no expectation of reimbursement. Being a guest after being a servant for so long felt unnatural to the both of you.

That evening, Rantha slept in his boys room and gave you, Nhemi, and Mercy the large bed.

“I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,” You whispered to Mercy as the three of you began to prepare for sleep.

“It’s no trouble at all, love,” She replied. “Rantha has been helping folks escape hard lives in the city since before the two of us ever met. He was able to walk away from the arena freely, but a lot of the friends he left behind weren’t as lucky. I think he’s always felt guilty about that.”

“I get that,” You said. “I wasn’t close with many of the other slaves besides the children I helped raise, like Nhemi, but I still feel bad that I’m here and they’re there.”

“I can’t tell you how to feel, of course, but considering you were working off someone else’s debts and that you were being held illegally, you’ve more than earned your freedom in my opinion. You don’t have to feel bad that you’ve finally received what you deserved in the first place. Trust me, that was a lesson I had to learn myself.”

You smiled. The three of you climbed into bed with Nhemi in the middle. She’d only ever slept on a thin cot before, so the plush bed was something she was unfamiliar with. She adapted quickly enough, and was dead asleep in a matter of minutes.

Despite the exhaustion due to the three day flight from the city to Rantha’s hidden cabin, you lay there unable to doze off. You stared up at the ceiling, the uncertainty of yours and Nhemi’s future made sleep slow in coming. Where would you go? You were now a fugitive on the run. If you or Nhemi were caught, it was the gallows. Rantha said there were options, places you could go where the people would protect you, but that seemed dubious to you. You knew better than anyone that everyone had their price.

Rantha had told you that Sheng had provided you with a care package of money and papers recommending you for work wherever you chose to go. You weren’t even sure where you should go. Where would be safe? Honestly, the safest thing would be to leave the country altogether.

You could go to the port in Shoreton and beg for a place on a ship. You didn’t know anything about working on a boat, but you were a fast learner. Every ship needed someone to mop decks and cook. You’d need to buy some trousers.

What about Nhemi? Would she be able to work on the ship? You knew there was an orphanage two towns over. Should you leave her there? You didn’t like the idea of leaving her with strangers, but it may be what was best for her.

With the future uncertain, you fell into an uneasy sleep, visited by tense dreams that were gone when you woke.

Three Years and Five Months Later

You stepped off the gangplank in Shoreton, adjusting your hat and looking out over the port town with a smile on your face. Shoreton was built on the ruins of an ancient elvish city, long decayed. What it’s original name was is lost to time, but now it was a town full of life and livelihood with fisherman and sailors and working girls. It felt more like home than any home you’d ever known, despite you spending a collective few months there.

You had managed to get a job on a merchant ship. Their merchandise was of questionable origin, but they hired you and Nhemi as deckhands, mopping the deck and scraping barnacles off the bow. Much like in the arena, you had worked your way up into owning your own small transport ship with a handful of crew, including Nhemi, who could climb the rigging like a spider.

Despite being a woman, your reputation for getting cargo where it needed to go regardless of seas or circumstance had garnered you a lot of business. In three years, you were now a captain of a small fleet of ships and a loyal crew. Your habit of humming as you navigated had earned you the name “Sea Sparrow” by your crew, a nickname that had caught on with the other sailors.

Next to you was your first mate, Neeta. Neeta was a siren who’d fallen in love with a crew member of yours. She was also the secret to the success of your business. The crewman she loved had died during a pirate raid, and the two of you had hunted them down and slaughtered them in his honor. Afterward, she swore allegiance to you, becoming a trusted friend and helping keep the seas and weather calm and favorable on your journeys. Staying on the boat allowed her to remember her departed lover and stay close to her home, the sea.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” She asked.

“Yes,” You replied. “This was always the plan. I told you that from the beginning.”

“I know. Far be it for me to question your decision,” She said sardonically. “It’s not as if I’ve ever left my whole world behind for someone I loved, after all.”

“That’s only part of it,” You replied evenly. “I have unfinished business in Dunmountain. Clearing my name is important to me and so is repaying Sheng, but there are people out there who need to pay for wronging me, and people who are still being wronged. Someone has to do something about it.”

“Does it have to be you who does it?”

“If I don’t, then who will?”

Neeta gave a conceding nod. “That’s fair. Do you think you’ll come back to the ships when you finish your work? I can certainly run things in your absence, but the seas will be sadder without you on them.”

You smiled. “That’s kind. I’m not sure. Sheng talked about a small cabin in a small town, and I want him to have what he wants.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ll get what I want, regardless,” You said, smirking. “I always do eventually. The key is convincing people your patient, when really you’re just stubborn.”

Neeta chuckled and crossed her arms, looking out over the port town.

Nhemi stepped up next to you on your other side and took a deep breath, looking up and grinning toothily at you. She wasn’t much taller than she had been three years ago, but she stood straighter and with more confidence. She had earned quite a bit of respect herself, having become an invaluable member of your crew.

“Ah, there you are,” You said, crouching down so that you were eye-to-eye with her. “Now, you remember what I said, you hear? Listen to Neeta, keep close to the rigging, and take care of yourself. When you come of age, one of these boats will be yours. You’ve earned it. And who knows? One day you might be my competition.”

“That’s right, I will!” She said brightly.

You twitched her nose and kissed her cheek. “You be good, alright? You’ll see me again before long.”

“I better,” She said, hugging you around the neck. You returned it and stood, giving Neeta a firm handshake, and headed out into the town to hire a carriage.

It was a nerve-wracking six days to reach the city. Not much had changed, especially the arena. The sight of it when you rode past it made your heart lurch. Was Sheng still there? Did he think of you? Had he been hurt again since you’d been gone? Had he gotten into trouble for helping you?

You’d thought of sending him a message, but Rantha said it was dangerous. The only thing you’d been allowed to do was send a missive to Edgar with the words “All is well” and hope he passed it along for you.

You found an inn uptown and set your belongings in it. You’d sent a letter to a magistrate in the city asking to meet, and the date was set for tomorrow. The waiting was agonizing. You wanted this to be over. You wanted the slavemaster and your family in jail. You wanted to see Sheng. But, you reminded yourself, you had decided not to meet Sheng until all this business was done. Sheng was the final piece.

The next morning, you went to the magistrate’s office with the papers you had kept on your person for the last three and a half years. You were so sick with nerves that you hadn’t been able to eat your breakfast, but you kept a stern and stoic face. You imagined you were quite the sight for the land-locked city, wearing a sword on your belt and a fine overcoat. Not to mention the well-tailored trousers. Tasteful women didn’t wear trousers. Not in this city.

“The magistrate will see you now, madam,” The attendant said to you. You nodded to him grimly, and he stepped aside warily to let you pass.

“Judge Andrews, good day,” You said as you entered.

He looked up from his papers. “Ah, good day, madam. You’re my appointment, I assume.”

“Yes,” You replied, and he gestured for you to sit. “You received my last letter, I trust?”

“I did,” He said, laying down his quill and sitting back in his chair. “And those are some serious allegations you’ve leveled against the slavemaster, serious enough to be taken to a higher court than mine, should they be true. I assume you have proof of your claims?”

“I do,” You said, handing him the envelope with the papers. “I also believe you should be in possession of a sheaf of similar documents from an anonymous source, correct?”

“That is correct,” He replied, looking at you curiously. “Though, without a formal complaint, no action could be taken. Are you making such a complaint on behalf of those referenced in the documents?”

“I am,” You said. “Should you need time to peruse the documents, I will wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“You aren’t doing yourself any favors by coming without a legal representative, by the way. Are you sure you don’t want a lawyer?”

You shook your head. “I trust myself and my own competency, not the competency of someone who wants my coin. Especially when lives are at stake.”

He scrutinized your letter with a furrowed brow. “This is indeed the slavemaster’s seal.”

“And you’ll note that the dates and balances are after my original imprisonment.”

“That’s so,” He replied. “It would be very difficult to forge a letter like this. The slavemaster’s seal in particular is quite intricate and nigh impossible to duplicate. I would need a professional sealmaker to inspect it against the slavemaster’s, but this is strong evidence.”

“That’s good news,” You said. “So, how much time will we need to conduct an investigation.”

“No reason not to do it now,” He said, standing from his desk. “We can collect the sealmaster from on our way.”

“Wha--” You rose from your seat as well. “On our way to where?”

“The arena,” He replied. “If what you say is true, he’s had plenty of time to destroy valuable evidence. If we want to catch him red handed before he gets rid of anything that could incriminate him, including his own slaves, we should act fast.

Though he was an older gentleman, he was a spry fellow and quick on his feet. He flagged down a carriage and let you get in first. The two of you spoke on various things, mostly about your imprisonment. He kept the conversation light, but he often attempted to steer the questions toward your escape. It had been illegal, but since the statute was up he couldn’t touch you. He could, however, prosecute the people who assisted your escape. You appreciated his desire to uphold the law, and playful banter though it may have been, you refused to implicate anyone and carefully hedged the subject. After a while, he gave you a knowing look and ceased his attempts to glean information from you.

He made a brief stop at the sealmaster’s shop, grabbing the sealmaster and explaining the situation. He and the magistrate appeared to be associates, and though the visit was abrupt, he did acquiesce to accompanying the two of you to the arena to confirm the validity of the seal.

The arena loomed over you as you approached, it’s shadow an oppressive presence. One last time, You told yourself silently. Just this one time, and it’ll be over, either way.

This was the first time you’d ever walked in the front gate as opposed to the slave’s entrance. Your natural instinct was to lower your gaze, but you reminded yourself that you weren’t a slave anymore and you kept your eyes straight ahead.

“Pardon,” Judge Andrews said, catching an attendant’s attention. “Could you please notify the slavemaster that Judge Andrews has arrived and would like a meeting with him.”

“Of course, your Honor,” The attendant said. “Can I show you to a lounge where you may wait?”

“Please do, young man,” Andrews replied. “Bring wine.”

“Yes, your Honor.” The attendant turned and led you to the upper ring to one of the nicer private sitting areas.

“Young man,” Andrews said to him before he left. “Do tell the guard to be on alert but say nothing to anyone else. Bring two of your strongest to guard this room.”

“Yes, your Honor,” The attendant said, clearly disturbed but excusing himself to follow the judge’s orders.

Wine was brought, and the three of you sat discussing various things while guards arrived and flanked the doors of the sitting area. You recognized one of them, but you looked a bit different than you had when you were last here, so you weren’t sure if he knew it was you.

The attendant returned and said, “The slavemaster is available, if you’ll follow me.”

“No,” The magistrate said. “No, the slavemaster will come to us. And tell him to bring his seal. We have very important paperwork to go over. Tell him that.”

“Uh… yes… your Honor,” The attendant said uncertainly.

“Oh, wait, before you go,” You said, catching him as he turned. “Is… Does Sheng still fight for the arena?”

“Yes, madam,” The attendant said. “He has a fight today, in fact.”

“I see,” You said, keeping your voice level. “I will sponsor today’s event, then. Can that be arranged, or does he have another sponsor today?”

“He does not, madam,” He replied. “I will inform him that he has a sponsor and arrange for a meeting once he has become presentable.”

“Thank you,” You said, and tossed the boy a coin. He accepted it with a bow and left.

Judge Andrews raised an eyebrow at you. “It costs a pretty penny to sponsor a prize fighter, even for one round.”

You sipped your wine delicately. “I have a debt to repay.”

“Hmm,” He said, and drank his own wine.

The slavemaster took a full hour to drag himself to the meeting, and when he arrived, he did not look pleased.

“It’s good to see you, Judge Andrews,” He said, not at all looking as if he meant it. “To what do I owe this unprompted, unannounced visit? I was told something about documents to go over? Was this not something that could have been done from the comfort of my office?”

“Did you bring your seal, Master Owens?” Judge Andrews asked, ignoring the slavemaster’s questions.

The slavemaster sighed and produced it from his robes.

“Cornelius,” Judge Andrews said, gesturing at the sealmaster, who took the seal and fixed a jeweler’s loupe to his eye.

“What’s this about, James?” The slavemaster asked, crossing his arms.

“Pitting is identical,” The sealmaster said, examining the seal in reference to the document. “Grooves are the same. Moreover, I was the one who made this seal for the slavemaster. I can say with confidence that this document was not forged.”

You smiled slowly. Got you, you smug bastard.

“Forged? What are you talking about?” The slavemaster said.

“Read for yourself,” Judge Andrews said, handing the paper to the slavemaster. He snatched it from the judge’s hand and scanned it. His face then paled. “I also have these,” The judge said, retrieving the papers you had left with Edgar from his coat pocket. “These also have your seal on it, and I’ll eat my chair if they don’t match. What have you to say, Master Owens?”

“They’re forged!” The slavemaster protested. “They must be! I’ve never seen them before, I swear it!”

“Ah, but you see that’s why I’ve brought Cornelius, here. He was the one who made your seal, as he stated. He, himself, has judged them to be genuine documents.”

“Nonsense! I want a second examiner!” The slavemaster insisted. “I demand a proper investigation be done!”

“You can demand all you like from your jail cell,” Judge Andrews said. “Guards, arrest the slavemaster.”

The guards stationed outside the door entered and took the slavemaster by the arms, dragging him backward. You stood up and watched as he was forced, kicking and spitting, from the room.

“Did you want to say anything to him?” Judge Andrews asked.

You shook your head. “No. That’s done. Nothing needs to be said.”

He nodded in understanding. “Very well. I have much paperwork to do, so I shall be going. Please come by soon to sign some papers, will you?”

“Of course.” You held out your hand. “Thank you for your help, your Honor.”

He took your hand and shook it. “It was my privilege, dear lady. Do take care.”

“I will.”

He and the sealmaster left, and you sat down, sipping at the wine and waiting for the attendant to retrieve you for the fighting match.

You were led to one of the private sponsor’s boxes in the upper ring. This was all so surreal. You’d been in every inch of this arena, but never as a guest. You almost felt like you should get up and sweep the floor.

There was a roaring cheer that made you sit up in your seat and look down eagerly. There, striding out into the ring, was Sheng. His fur was shiny and glowing. He held up his hands and drank in the praise from the crowd. Seeing him made your hairs stand on end, but you also smiled. At least one thing hadn’t changed.

He stopped in the center and waved to the children, like he always did. He then bowed to the crowd. Finally, he turned to the box where you sat, and though he couldn’t see you from this distance, he bowed more deeply than he had to anyone else.

His bout was incredible, and you watched it on the edge of your seat, breathless. He was so graceful and athletic, even for his size. Your memories of him were nothing compared to him in real life, and you couldn’t wait to see him face to face again. You just hoped he would still see you as a friend, after all this time. Three years was plenty of time to change a person’s feelings. Not enough to change yours, but that was beside the point.

As expected, he won, and he was showered with applause and flowers from the crowd. You wished you had one you could throw to him, even if he didn’t know it was from you. He bowed again to you before he left the ring, scooping up several of the flowers that had floated to the ground and holding them up in salute to the audience.

“Madam?” You heard from behind you. It was a second attendant, a woman that you didn’t recognize. “A room has been prepared for you with refreshments while you wait for Sheng to get ready. If you’d follow me, please?”

“Of course, thank you,” You said, rising from your seat. “Are you a slave?”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised by the question. “Yes, madam, I am.”

“Whose debts brought you here?”

Her face soured. “My husband’s.”

“And where is he?”

“Drank himself to death. I inherited his debts.”

“Hmm,” You said. You took a few coins from your pocket and passed them to her. “To freedom. From one slave to another.”

“Thank you, madam!” She said. “Thank you very much!”

“You don’t have to call me madam,” You said, smiling. She returned the smile. “What’s your name, love?”

“Anya,” She replied.

“Well, Anya,” You said, linking your arm with hers. “Why don’t you relax and have a drink with me until Sheng is ready?”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” You said. “The slavemaster would sell me in a heartbeat.”

“Today is your lucky day, Anya,” You laughed. “Come on.”

She sat with you until another attendant informed you that Sheng was ready to meet with and to collect your sponsorship fee, at which time Anya excused herself. You took a deep, shaky breath and waited.

Sheng entered the room, looking glorious, and smiled at you. You knew him well enough to know when he was trying to hide when he was tired.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” He said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the chamber. “If I might ask why you decided to sponsor me today? Have you seen me fighting before?”

“Oh, many times,” You said, smiling and trying to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest. “Though, it was usually from the very cheap seats. This is the first time I’ve been back to the arena in several years.”

“Welcome back,” He said. “How was the view from the sponsor’s box?”

You chuckled. “If I’m honest, I preferred the old view.”

“And why is that?”

You sucked in a breath. “Sheng,” You said softly. “Don’t you know who I am?”

He blinked, and his smile slipped. “I’m sorry, my lady, but should I? Have we met?”

You sighed. “Well, I guess it’s not surprising you don’t recognize me. Cut my hair, and it’s a bit sun-bleached, too. I wear pants now. I didn’t do that when you knew me. I got a tan and lost some weight. That can happen when you’re on a boat for over three years.”

“A boat?” He said, confused.

“Yes,” You said. “I begged my way onto a ship after I… left. Worked my way up, and now I’m very successful. It’s why I sponsored you. I had a debt to repay.”

“A debt to me? Why?” He asked.

“Sheng, do you really not know who I am?”

He held out his hands in exasperation. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

“Then let me remind you,” You said. You reached for your bag and pulled out a brush. “Come and sit.”

He eyed you warily, but he complied. He was still wearing his breastplate, but he’d taken off his bracers and neckguard. You reached up and carefully ran your fingers through the fur of his neck and began to brush in long, broad strokes. After a few seconds, he stood up abruptly and swung around, his eyes and mouth wide open.

“It’s you!” He said in a quiet voice. “You came back!”

Your eyes filled with tears as you laughed. “Of course I came back, you lump!” You jumped up into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist. He gripped you to him tightly.

“Oh, I thought I’d never see you again, little one!” He said into your hair. “What have you been up to all this time? Is that a sword on your belt?”

You snorted a laugh. “Yes,” You replied. “It’s helpful for fighting off pirates.”

“Pirates?” He asked, pulling back to look at your face. “What work has you dealing with pirates?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” You said, crying. “Whatever you want. I’ll tell you anything.”

He kissed you. It wasn’t the same as the one he’d given you when the two of you had parted over three years ago, which was soft and feather-light and spoke of a long farewell. This was rough, hungry, and needy. Heat flared between your legs and you moaned against his lips.

He put you down on your feet and took your hand.

“Come on,” He said. “Let’s go somewhere more private, where we won’t be disturbed. You remember the way to my quarters?”

You smiled. “Some things one never forgets.”

He grinned back at you and the two of you sprinted to his rooms. Once there, the two of you began shedding clothes like they were on fire. Your breathing was ragged and his hands were shaking as he reached to touch your body.

“I’ve dreamed of this for three years,” He breathed. “Longer. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you from the arena, peeking into the ring. That was lust back then but even still I cared for you. I didn’t realize I loved you until it was too late.”

“It’s not too late, Sheng,” You said, carding your fingers down the fur of his chest. “I’m right here. I’m here because I chose to be. I chose you.”

He picked you up bridal style and tossed you lightly onto his wide bed. You bounced up and down with a giggle.

“You did lose some weight, but there’s still plenty of jiggle in those parts of yours,” He said, laughing as he climbed over you, pressing you down into the bed with his body.

You snickered and slapped his shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

“You like it,” He said as he kissed you. His kisses moved to your ear, then your neck, and to your breasts. He squeezed and kneaded them while he sucked on your skin. You sighed and pulled up your knees as he settled his body between them. Your back arched as he moved lower, kissing and sucking your belly and lifting your legs up and open.

The first press of his tongue against your slit was like lightning in your body, and the muscles of your stomach clenched. The sheets were balled in your fists as he sucked at your core, teasing the lips with one of his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” You wheezed.

“Where did you hear such language, missy?” He asked.

“I’m a sailor now, remember?” You said breathlessly.

“I thought that ‘cursing like a sailor’ thing was an old wives’ tale,” He said.

“It mostly is,” You said, looking down at him lying between your legs. “Can we discuss it later?”

He grinned wickedly at you and went back to his task with renewed vigor. You moaned and bit your lip as he eased a finger inside you, crooked and rubbing the sweet spot. You felt yourself coming to a climax, but just as you were on the cusp of falling over that cliff, he stopped, much to your dismay.

“Now, now,” He said, pulling himself up your body, kissing your skin as he went. “We don’t want to burn ourselves out before the main event.”

“I can go for hours,” You replied.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” He chuckled, kissing your lips. You rolled him until you were straddling his waist. He was rock hard underneath you, and you slicked him in the wetness from your slit, rubbing yourself against him. He gripped your hips and groaned, his eyes closing.

“Is this as good as your dreams?” You asked, bracing yourself on his chest.

He touched your cheek and made a fist in your hair, pulling your head back. You laughed.

“Better,” He said. “Infinitely better.”

You pushed up on your knees while he reached between the two of you and held his cock in place so that you could slide slowly down upon it. There was a little bit of pain due to his size, but you gave yourself a minute to adjust, and began to rock gingerly. You bent down to kiss his chest and fondle his nipples and he bucked a little underneath you.

“You’re going to make me pop too soon,” He huffed.

“That’s alright,” You said, sitting up and bouncing faster. “You got me pretty close, it won’t take much to make me cum now.”

He grunted and his fingers dug into your flesh as he drove up into you from below to meet your hips as you came down on him. The two of you were beyond words at this point, moving in sync with each other. Your thigh twitched as you came suddenly, gushing down his shaft as he released inside you with a drawn out groan of pleasure.

You collapsed onto his chest with a deep sigh of satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around you and held on tight. Eventually he rolled so that you were tucked into his side and he breathed deeply, as if asleep.

“Are you still awake?” You asked.

“Aye,” He said quietly. “Though my vision went fuzzy for a moment.”

“You can’t die yet,” You said, kissing his chest. “You still need the cabin in a quiet town. The little tadpoles. I’m going to make your dreams come true. It’s why I came back for you.”

“What about your dreams?” He asked, opening his eyes to look at you.

“You’re half of them, and I’ve got that now. The other half I’ll have to work on, if you’ll support me.”

He hugged you in tight. “Anything you want.”

By the time you were pregnant with Sheng’s first child, you’d taken a position at Judge Andrews’ firm and started working your way up, like you always did. Even though women were not allowed to actively participate in politics, the two of you began petitioning for fairer treatment for slaves as well as making it illegal to sell family members into slavery to pay for their own debts

There was plenty of pushback from people who liked the system the way it was and didn’t want things to change, but you were just as stubborn as they were. You went through all of the cases of the current slaves at the arena and made sure the ones who were being held illegally were freed with reparations. You also ensured that the responsible parties were arrested and tried for their crimes. You had to do all of this through Judge Andrews, which meant you didn’t get any of the credit, but that didn’t matter as long as justice was served.

You made sure Sheng got his cabin and his garden outside of the city. Commuting to the city for work was a bit of a pain, but you were happy to do it if it meant Sheng was happy. He loved being a househusband and a stay-at-home father, and as much as he wished you’d slow down when you were pregnant, he knew by now that he couldn’t stop you. If you had a mission on your mind, you wouldn’t stop until it was complete. He knew that. It’s one of the things he loved about you, even if it frustrated him at times.

You still had a long way to go, but some things were going to take time.

You were patient. You could wait.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Yeti #Bigfoot #The Towns #Sheng

[storiesforallfandoms]

stay the night ~ geralt of rivia;the witcher

word count: 2339

request?: yes!

“can you write something where Geralt rescues the reader and they travel back to her home town and fall in love and he takes her virginity? with a size kink please”

description: in which the infamous witcher saves a young maiden and returns her home, only to develop feelings for her

pairing: geralt of rivia x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

note: the size kink thing may suck because i genuinely am not sure what a size kink is

The townsfolk watched as the Witcher rode into town on his horse, cradling a young maiden who was covered in a blanket and covered in dirt and blood. He stopped in front of a small house and the gathering neighbours helped to take the young maiden from his horse.

“What happened to her?” one of the men asked.

“She went out for a walk at the wrong time,” Geralt responded. He, too, was covered in blood that was not his own or the maiden’s. It was the blood of the monster he slayed in order to save the young woman. “She’s okay, just shaken up a little.”

“I’m fine,” the maiden insisted. “The Witcher was there to save me.” She looked up at him with eyes so wide and innocent. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Usually, Geralt would request money with a question like that. However, the young woman looked too young to have much of her own to spare. He wouldn’t feel right taking her coin.

He shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need repayment.”

“Please, let me at least give you a place to stay for the night,” she insisted. “You must be traveling for so long, with very little good places to sleep. You can wash up here, I’ll make you something to eat. I will not take no for an answer.”

Geralt looked down at her pleading face and sighed, realizing she wouldn’t stop until he agreed. He unmounted his horse, towering over (Y/N) by a head. She was so small, so innocent. How was he, a feared Witcher, unable to say no to such a sweet young maiden?

She smiled, pleased with his response. “Perfect. I’ll show you to your room.”

~~~~~~

Geralt was changing back into his now clean clothes. There was nothing more satisfying to him than getting to wash the filth off of him after a long day of battle, especially when it was with clean water as opposed to lake water.

Outside the window of the room he was staying in, Roach was tied to (Y/N)’s fence, drinking out of a bucket of water that she had provided for him. He seemed more than happy with their predicament.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Geralt warned him. “We won’t be here long.”

Roach snorted at Geralt in displeasure. Geralt rolled his eyes in response.

“Are your clothes to your liking, Witcher?”

(Y/N) was leaning against the doorway. She, too, was freshly cleaned and changed now into a loose fitting gown. It hung low enough that it showed off more of her chest, and Geralt had to try not to make it so obvious that he was staring at her.

“Everything is perfect, thank you,” he responded.

She looked him over, noting how his leathery clothes clung to his muscular body. She felt herself tingling just looking at him. Oh how lucky she was to be saved by such an attractive Witcher.

“You’re welcome. Truly, it’s the least I can do to thank you for saving my life,” she told him.

“You needn’t thank me. Slaying monsters is my job.”

(Y/N) noted the slight discomfort in Geralt’s voice. “You really do not want to be here, do you?”

Geralt sighed and shook his head. “I apologize, I don’t mean to offend. I’m just not used to people giving me shelter in return for saving them. I’m also not the type to stay in one place.”

(Y/N) offered Geralt a small smile. “I understand. If you want to leave, you can. I just wanted to find some way to repay you for what you did for me. I don’t have a lot of money to spare, offering a room was the only thing I could really do.”

It was a tempting offer. Geralt didn’t feel completely comfortable with being there. She was giving him an out, and she seemed sincere about it. He could leave and never give this town, or this woman, a second thought. He had done it dozens of time before without a problem.

But there was something about her eyes. The way she was looking at him, somehow both innocent and promiscuous. He couldn’t help but let his eyes lower to her chest. He realized that her gown was thin enough that he could see her particularly perky breasts through it. It made his pants feel much tighter.

“I’ll stay for one night,” he decided. “I can not turn down your kindness now.”

(Y/N) smiled with glee. “In that case, I have food ready for the two of us.”

~~~~~~

As they were eating, the sun went down throwing the house into darkness. (Y/N) lit a fire in her fireplace and passed Geralt a mug of ale and herself a cup of wine. They across from each other in front of the fireplace, allowing the glowing fire to warm them up.

“Where will your next adventure bring you, Witcher?” she asked him, sipping her wine.

“I’m not sure,” Geralt responded. “I don’t usually plan my adventures. I go travel till I find where I’m needed, or I find something I need.”

“And what is it that a Witcher needs?”

Geralt smirked as he responded, “Wine, ale, a shelter, and a woman.”

He noticed her face turning pink at his bluntness and raised his mug to his lips to drown out the laugh that was bubbling within him.

“And yet you tried to turn down the shelter I offered you.”

“I don’t usually stay with the people I save. Quite the opposite, really. People despise Witchers. I save someone from a beast and they shun me in return. I’m lucky to get any type of coin for my work.”

(Y/N) looked down at her wine, fingers tracing the cup as she asked, “And what about the women? Do you have a love, Geralt of Rivia?”

Geralt chuckled at this. “No, nor do I expect to ever have one. The only women who wish to lay with a Witcher are those who are being paid to do so.”

A silence grew between the two. (Y/N) was looking into the fire, but her mind wasn’t within the room. Geralt could tell she was somewhere far away from the room in her small house.

“Do you have a love, (Y/N)?” he asked her.

“Hm?” She looked back to him, but she still wasn’t all there. “Oh, no, I do not. It is just me in this small, lonely house.”

“Surprising for a lady as beautiful as you to be without a husband.”

(Y/N) smiled slightly at Geralt. “I guess I have just yet to find the right man to wed.”

She placed her cup of wine aside and moved to kneel on the floor in front of Geralt. She rested her arms on his legs, looking up at him with those goddamn eyes he couldn’t resist. From this angle, he had a clear view of what was down her gown.

“Were you looking for the company of a woman tonight, Witcher?” she asked. Her tone was so innocent but her words were so dirty Geralt was finding it hard to keep focus.

When he didn’t respond, (Y/N) sat up and pressed her lips to his. The action took Geralt by surprise and, without thinking, he pushed (Y/N) away. He immediately regretted his decision when he saw the hurt look on her face.

“That was too much, wasn't it?” she asked, sitting back on her legs. She covered her face, which was turning red with embarrassment. “I knew that would be too far, I knew it.”

“No,” Geralt told her. “I am just a little shocked by the action. I didn’t think you were so...”

“Promiscuous?” (Y/N) offered. She sighed heavily. “Truly, I’m not. I’ve yet to be deflowered, but I have also yet to meet someone who wants to, or who I want to be deflowered by.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at her. “So you decide to lose it to the man who saved your life, whom you didn’t know just hours ago.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I figured you might be alright with it. I have heard the rumors about you, Witcher. You enjoy the company of women nearly everywhere you go. You wouldn’t turn down a woman who was coming on to you.”

Geralt shook his head. “You should not be trying to lose your virginity just because you wish for it to happen already. It should be shared with someone who truly cares for you, and who you truly care for in return.”

(Y/N) sat back against the chair she was once sat in. She sighed heavily and looked into the fire. It illuminated her face and Geralt saw the guilt and embarrassment she was feeling. He felt bad for turning her down, but he knew he was not the one who should be taking her virginity. He had only known her for a few hours.

Then again, even if it had only been a few hours, Geralt found himself caring for this girl. More than he had cared for anyone. That was why he was staying despite his discomfort, no matter how many times he told himself it was just because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But even that excuse was flimsy. Geralt never cared about the feelings of others before, why would (Y/N) be any different.

Geralt lowered himself out of his chair and to the floor. (Y/N) looked up at him in confusion as he cupped her face and pulled her for another gentle kiss. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her to him before lowering her to lie on the floor.

(Y/N) shivered as Geralt ran a hand up her thigh under her dress, lightly brushing against her aching core. She arched her back against him, wanting him to do more than to just touch him. He chuckled against her lips, amused by her desperation.

Geralt slipped his pants down enough to allow his hard dick to spring free. He teased (Y/N)’s entrance a little, causing her to moan and to beg him to be inside her. The sound of the lustful words coming from her mouth drove Geralt wild and he quickly thrusted into her, causing (Y/N) to gasp.

She flinched at his size inside of her, stretching her walls in a painful way. She didn’t anticipate that losing her virginity would hurt this much. As Geralt began to thrust, she contemplated telling him to stop. It was too painful, she couldn’t understand how any woman would find this pleasurable.

But then, the more he thrusted, and the more his lips touched spots on her neck that sent shivers down her spin, the more the pain subsided. She started to feel pleasure. Her body was nearly shaking with it. It felt so good, she almost never wanted to stop.

Geralt slipped one arm under (Y/N) while using the other to hold him up. He cradled her small stature against his body as he continued to thrust into her. He was trying to be as gentle as he could, afraid that he would hurt her, but the minute he slipped inside of her he realized how long it had been since he had been with a woman. He was more needy than he previously thought, he couldn’t help his thrusts becoming rough.

(Y/N)’s hands grabbed at Geralt’s shirt, her eyes rolling into the back of her head in pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of their moans. (Y/N) began to tremble as she felt a pressured feeling building up in her stomach. She gasped and cursed as she felt herself hitting her climax. Feeling (Y/N) come undone without him tipped Geralt over the edge as well. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, grunting as he felt himself finishing inside of her.

They laid tangled up together next to the fire for some time after. (Y/N) rested her head on Geralt’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as his chest rose and fell with every breath he took.

“Do you feel any different?” he asked her.

She giggled. “Not really. I feel sore, mainly.”

Geralt chuckled at the response.

(Y/N) moved so that she was propped up on her elbow, facing Geralt. He turned to face her, mimicking her position. “Do you think you’ll be staying long, Geralt? Or will you be off in the morning?”

“I suppose I should be off in the morning,” Geralt responded. “There are others out there who need my help, and like I said, I’m not one to stay for long.”

“Would you like to have a partner for your travels?” Geralt raised an eyebrow at the question. “You may think that you are just someone I met mere hours ago, but you feel like more than that to me. The thought of you leaving in the morning is a dreadful one that I can barley stand to think of for long, and that’s how I know you’re someone special to me. I’d like to come with you, even if it’s just for a short time. I’d like to see what else it is you do - the monsters you fight and the people you encounter. I’ve never be out of this village, I’d like to have some excitement in my life.”

The answer was obvious, Geralt should say no. It was dangerous to travel if you were inexperienced with the monsters that he regularly faced. But he had to agree that the thought of leaving (Y/N) made him feel a sense of dread inside.

“I guess you can join me,” he said, a slight smile on his face.

(Y/N) smiled excitedly before cuddling into Geralt’s chest again. Geralt chuckled and ran his hand over her back. He could get used to laying with someone every night like this.

I feel like this is so shit, I’m very sorry. I hope you like it though!

#geralt of rivia #geralt imagine #geralt x reader smut #geralt x reader #the witcher #the witcher imagine #the witcher smut #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #netflix #imagine #request #smut #one shot

[fedtothenight]

this competition asked to write a short story in the dystopian genre and my entry's below - don't rb!

the sweetest fruit

The boy gasped, straining against the padded frame of the jeep just as the vehicle slowly came to a halt. ‘Look!’ he shouted, pointing at a spot about a hundred feet from the group. ‘Look, Mum! That’s so cool!’

Half-instinctively, his mother had already grabbed a fistful of his tank-top, ready to yank him back. She had spent the entirety of the trip sitting as still as possible, facing forward, eyes stubbornly fixed on the self-cooling top of the car in a pointless effort to fight her motion sickness: her patience was already wearing very thin without her eight-year-old personal safety hazard trying to get himself killed.

‘Ethan, for the love of God,’ she snapped. ‘I already told you to stop leaning over the frame! Do you realise how dangerous that is?’

‘No, Mum, you’ve got to look!’

‘Emma, darling,’ her husband whispered, a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘You should really look at this. It’s magnificent.’

Whatever it was, even her fifteen-year-old daughter - who had spent the last thirty minutes texting her friends back home without so much as a glance at the scenery - was jaw-slacked, so she slowly got up on her wobbly knees and peered over her shoulders.

In the shadow of a tree, protected from the sweltering heat, two lions were feasting on a zebra. Perhaps belatedly, as it’d taken her a second to drink the sight in, she realised that the poor thing was still alive: writhing as blood, red and hot and pulsing, gushed out from where the bigger lion - the male - had bitten into its back.

The smaller one, the female, soundlessly sank its teeth into the dying animal’s neck, and the latter gave one last weak kick, finally falling limp. When the lioness stood again, it was almost impossible, from this distance, to see her eyes amidst the bloodied mess on her face.

‘Oh, my God, Matt,’ Emma said. ‘This is beautiful. Nature truly is beautiful.’

‘You don’t really get to see this kind of show anywhere else today,’ their guide said from the driver’s seat. He sounded proud, as if he’d hunted and fed the zebra to the lions himself.

Alberto wasn’t wrong, Emma reasoned. Given that they were parked in the middle of the privately-owned biggest North American savanna, he - or rather, his employer - was the one effectively feeding the lions. Like feeding mice to cats. She glanced at her children, glad they could have a window on a reality that was long gone. To think it would have taken a trip around the world to watch this spectacle - imagine the motion sickness then! If only, she considered wistfully, there could be a way of replicating glaciers just as accurately.

‘Honestly, it seems a bit unfair that they get to eat real meat,’ Ethan said at the dinner table a few hours later. He was picking at his plate, moving the fried grasshoppers they’d been served for dinner around, but not really eating any. ‘While we are stuck with insects and microprotein or whatever.’

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. She was tired and sunburnt, her sensitive pale skin suffering under the blistering sun of the region, so different from the temperate weather back home North. She had a splitting headache, too. She was, yet again, at the so-called end of her tether. ‘Ethan…’

‘You should be glad you get to eat at all,’ her daughter said at the same time. ‘There’s a reason it’s illegal to eat meat. These animals are here for show, anyway. They were originally from Africa.’

‘Shut up, Becca,’ Ethan mumbled. ‘Everybody knows there are no animals in Africa. There’s nothing there.’

Becca’s cheeks were tinted pink, eyebrows furrowed. ‘Of course there were animals. There were animals everywhere before the Climate Crunch.’

‘Both of you, stop it,’ Matt interjected. ‘Ethan, your sister is right. You should be grateful that we are here in the first place. That said…’ He leant forward, voice down to a whisper: ‘I have a surprise for you. Or, well, Richard has a surprise for us. When he arrives tomorrow, he’ll bring us real meat. Bovine meat.’

‘But it’s illegal,’ said Becca.

‘It’s technically illegal,’ Matt acknowledged. ‘It’s not if you know how to get some and no one from Animal Conservation finds out. Do you think our president only eats insects? Please, Becca. Use that big brain of yours.’

‘Yes,’ Ethan snickered. ‘Use your brain, Becca.’

‘That is too generous,’ Emma said. ‘Inviting us here in the first place was, when even he hasn’t gotten here yet. Now this. I wouldn’t know how to repay him.’

Truly, all she felt was jealousy. Her guts twisted with the sheer force of it. Yes, she had known that Richard was comfortable. The gated, heavily guarded estate spanned for thousands of acres, comprised the 5000sqt villa they were staying at (five bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a cinema, marble floors and solar panels on the rooftop), an indoor swimming pool inspired by vintage photos of Amalfi, two indoor tennis courts, and the savanna they’d explored earlier in the day. ‘The biggest conservation area in North America since they repurposed the Midwest,’ he’d bragged in a video call, two weeks before. ‘You will love it. The holiday you deserve. Make yourselves at home.’

But meat? He could get meat?

Matt’s family had designed DeNuketify, which was basically the only effective way of purifying ocean water from whatever nuclear waste Japan kept spewing so that it could be used and, most importantly, drunk. They had managed to flee the continent with the last handful of greencards about the time her family did, too, taking their precious Queen’s accent with them to found Nova London. She was the governor of Nova London now, for God’s sake. The bloody queen herself was long dead but she was alive, and yet, yet - they had never had meat.

‘We don’t have to, Emma,’ Matt said. ‘We just need to remember how lucky we are to enjoy this meal, this house, this holiday. Look at that,’ and he nodded towards the TV screen again. ‘Actually, Alexa!, volume up!, I think the Italians have finally surrendered.’

The war correspondent’s voice grew louder. She - they, Emma reminded herself: Becca always told her not to assume anyone’s gender - was wearing a dust mask and reading from a bundle of documents. ‘The last military hospital in the island of Palermo was destroyed four days ago by a Canadian airstrike,’ they were saying. ‘The rebels surrendered soon after, followed by the group of extremists in the Nebrodi island. Etna had already surrendered last year.’

‘It’s important to remember that these actions were necessary to finally put a rest on the instability of the region,’ they added. ‘Canada will fund a complete restoration of the Southern archipelago. The remaining civilians will be provided with a shelter and then, when the time comes, a suitable job. Nova Italia will be the sixteenth Canadian state, the fourth offshore. There are also hopes to extract petroleum from the seabed of the sunken city of Gela.’

‘Watch them make it into a holiday hotspot,’ Matt commented. ‘The weather is still nice there.’

‘Ooh, I heard about this.’ Becca picked her phone back up and started furiously typing away. ‘There’s this journal entry soldiers found over there, under the rubble, that’s gone viral. It was translated into English. Wait, I’ll pull it up. Alexa, volume down.’

‘I’m not sure I want to hear it,’ Emma said, uneasy. ‘We’re on holiday. Should we not watch a movie? Something funny?’

Becca waved her away, as if she was an annoying fly. ‘It’ll be good practice for my drama class.’

Matt didn’t help—he simply shrugged, half-apologetic, as if to say: Let her do her thing.

Becca made a show of clearing her throat, too, before she started reading from her phone—her high voice now grave, studied, as if she were speaking to a larger audience: ‘I wonder what peas taste like.’

Right then, the scene on screen changed to footage of what looked like a destroyed village, something out of an apocalyptic movie. Emma found herself unable to look away.

‘Nonna used to say that her own great-grandmother grew them in her garden. Figs, too,’ Becca read. ‘They say they were the sweetest fruit.’

Emma wondered if this journal was actually written by a child or a teenager. It didn’t sound like an adult at all. She couldn’t help but picture a girl, a brunette, not much older than Becca, perhaps a rebel, or a trainee nurse on the sweet cusp of adulthood, holding this journal of hers, or perhaps a gun. It violently reminded her that her own daughter, too, would have to serve her time in the Forces in three years.

On screen, the Canadian soldiers walked among the ruins, zigzagging between torn up clothes and discarded weapons, surely looking for surviving rebels under the rubbles.

‘Isn’t it silly that we can hear the fighters overhead and that all I can do is think about food?’ said Becca. ‘I wish we could also eat figs and be happy.’

On screen, the camera zoomed in on a long-forgotten man's shoe, some crumpled photographs, on a pile of bodies in black bin bags.

‘Grandma - I miss her - left me a poetry book, too, from T.S. Eliot. I hope the book is with me when I die, so I can give it back to her when we meet again, afterwards. So I can tell her that T.S. Eliot was wrong.’

On screen, one of the soldiers approached and showed a little trinket to the camera: a bloody, heart-shaped locket that must’ve once been golden, hiding the miniature pictures of two brunette children that would never have a name.

‘That’s enough,’ Emma said. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. ‘Stop reading.’

‘The world may have not ended with a bang, but it didn’t end with a whimper, either: the world didn’t end at all. Sometimes,’ Becca finished reading, ‘I wish it had.’

‘What a load of rubbish,’ Matt scoffed. ‘Everyone should feel lucky to be alive. I bet this journal is a fake. Alexa, turn the TV off.’

As the screen faded to black, Ethan finally popped a grasshopper in his mouth. ‘I can’t wait to have meat tomorrow.’

#my writing #honestly dystopia is not a genre i'm interested in #lol #this was lazy and i wrote it in one morning while i was hungover on negroni

[arknights-imagines]

Exusiai for the Christmas letter and gift prompt with a Male Sarkaz Operator S/O who is a part of Penguin Logistics and acts as her weapon smith making sure her gun is working properly and that she has plenty of ammo when she goes out on Operations. Thank you for answering my request.

From, Exusiai

Christmas Letter and Gift event

Satisfied with your work, Emperor gives you the rest of the day off after you deliver to him your report of weapon and cargo records for the month. The Penguin Logistics base is quiet as you head back to your workshop for the night.

You flick the lights on with a yawn, but your eyes do a double take when they fall to your workbench. There, amongst your tools and papers is a red envelope sealed with a cute cartoonish sticker, sat next to a cute gift bag of the same colour.

Your gaze stares the items down, the glint in your eyes curious; a gift perhaps? It is the Holiday season, but who would be sending you something at such an odd time? Though you feel a little bit cautious, you sit yourself down at your workbench, taking the envelope and turning it in your hands carefully.

The words on the back of the envelope reveal the identity of your sender immediately - in bold, messy handwriting is ‘To my baby, from your Exu! A very Merry Christmas!’ surrounded by playfully drawn hearts and stars.

Exusiai - you told her that you didn't need anything for Christmas, but you aren't surprised that she got you something regardless. You open the letter carefully, pulling from inside the envelope a sheet of Penguin Logistics stationary paper, that smells faintly of apple pie. Even though Exusiai’s hand penmanship is barely legible, from the very first words of the letter, a smile comes to your face.

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

Yo, hi [name]~! I hope my favourite cutie is feeling good today.

I’m not much of a writer, but the boss sent me out on a mission I’m not sure when I’ll be back from, and I wanted to give you your gift ASAP. Don’t worry about me! I’ll be back faster than you can say ‘apple pie’~.

What's up with this letter and gift? Well, it’s Christmas season! That means lots of parties with me and the other girls - Ehehe, I hope you're ready for a Holiday party the Penguin Logistics way. You know, you really do need a break baby~. All that tinkering with weapons all the time looks like it would really poop me out. But I guess that's why we all have our roles, right? Without you, I’m not sure what the other girls and I would do.

Christmas is a big deal pretty much everywhere - from Lungmen to Rhodes Island, everyone celebrates the Holidays.

When it comes to Christmas, I only like the fun parts - that's probably why I like celebrating it my own way, different from how other Sankta do it. Most Lateranos celebrate Christmas seriously, with all these intricate traditions and whatnot. Me? I just like the gifts, the smiles, the lights and the food! And baby, if you ask me, as long as you're having fun, Christmas can be spent anyway you like~. The Holidays came so fast this year! I guess time really does fly when you're having fun~.

Do the Sarkaz celebrate Christmas? Ehehe, sorry, maybe that question is a little too personal. Don't worry baby, now that we’re together, we can celebrate the Holidays together however we want.

That reminds me - what do you want to do for Christmas this year? We’ll have a party with the girls, obviously, but we will need to make plans just for us. We can hang around the base and I can make us apple pie, then we can cuddle or watch a movie. Or if you're feeling adventurous, we can go out into whatever city we’re in by the time Christmas rolls around and see where fate takes us. Ehehe, think about it, okay?

[Name], we’ve run into all types of things, but honestly? I wouldn't really have it any other way. If I had never met you, I don't think waking up for the day would bring me half as much excitement as it does now. Knowing I get to get up in the morning and see you working when I pass by your workshop really makes me smile. Ehehe, is that too cheesy? I’m sorry cutie, my insides really do get all mushy when I think about you.

Y’know...people like to call the Sarkaz ‘devils’, but [name], you're not a devil at all. You protect me by keeping my gun and I in shape and if anything jams, we can trust you to fix it. I might be the one with the wings and halo, but you're the real angel - my guardian angel. The boss and the other girls ought to be super grateful for you~.

Baby, I feel like I really need to repay you for everything you’ve done for me. I know you repair my gun and help the girls and I on missions sometimes, but it’s more than that. You gave me a real shelter, a place where I feel safe and can be myself. I don't really fit in with the other Sankta back at Laterano, Rhodes Island and Penguin Logistics are nice but the people there are my friends and colleagues - not my lover. The one I love, the one I know I can rely on no matter what, is you.

My cutie, my baby, my [name] - what I’m trying to say is that my home is with you. I want to be with you forever.

I wanna do so many things together; eheh, where do I start? I want us to go to Siesta for their Obsidian Festival, I want us to go to Lungmen again so we can properly celebrate the Sauin festival, I even want to bring you to Laterano, my hometown, just to show you where I grew up.

Is this warmth inside my heart the Christmas Spirit everyone keeps talking about? Ehehe, I’m just kidding. Only you have this kind of effect on me, [name]. I wonder - when you think of me, does your stomach do the same summersaults mine does when I think of you~?

But seriously - baby, I love you. So much that I’m basically oozing with affections for you, but that's probably obvious. Someday, I’ll find some better way to say thanks, but for now, take this letter and gift I got for you. Also, it’s Christmastime! Hold your head up and smile big for me~.

Ehehe, boss is gonna start yelling at me if I take too long, so that's all for now! Keep up the hard work [name]! Ehehe, maybe the boss will give us a nice long break for the holiday season if we all blow him away with our amazingness~. Right, Exu out!

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

Exusiai and her antics never fail to make you smile; this time was no different. A small chuckle leaves you and your lips upturn into a warm grin as you read the conclusion to her letter. Exusiai really does mean as much to you as you meant to her - you remind yourself to tell her that when she comes back from her mission.

Your gaze returns to your workbench, more specifically, to the gift bag. Its colour reminds you a little of Exusiai’s hair, and sticking out the top of the bag is tissue paper of all different colours. Your brow lifts as you pick it up; the bag is light, what kind of gift did she get you? You shrug to yourself slightly, ‘Only one way to find out’, and so, you open the little bag up.

Inside of the bag, underneath all that colourful tissue paper is a cute keychain with two chibi figures and a tag with your name hanging off it. You immediately recognize one of the little figurines as Exusiai - the cheeky grin and halo are both pretty unmistakable - and the other figure; confusion paints your face for a few moments as your try and rack your brain for who it might be, and then it dawns you. You almost facepalm; it's clear from the Sarkaz horns that the other chibi is you. Another smile is brought out of you and a light laugh follows. The gift is lighthearted and playful, and at the end of the day, it's just a keychain; but paired with Exusiai’s letter and the thoughts she conveyed with it, to you, it's so much more.

Your eyes go back to the gift bag, and you this time notice the tag hanging off its handle. Gaze curious, you take the tag between your fingers and see that Exusiai’s handwriting is squished onto the little blank space it provides, ‘Merry Christmas cutie! I promise I’ll be home for the holidays, but for now, check out this keychain! It’s mini versions of you and I, pretty cool right? Shoutout to the super awesome craftsman I met during my Operation in Lungmen who made them for us!’ Your heart goes mushy - she had been thinking of spending Christmas with you even during her missions? You can tell you’ll always be in her heart, and you can't wait to tell her that she’ll always be in yours, ‘[Name], carry the keychain around with you everywhere you go - that way, we’ll always be together~.’

#i hope i did exu justice 🥺 ty for the creative request anon!! #arknights #arknights imagines #arknights exusiai #arknights x reader #exusiai arknights #arknights imagine #arknights fanfic #arknights writing #christmas event #imagine #imagines #writing

[urmomification]

dnf royalty!au bc i am a weak weak man

GUYS IM SO SORRY FOR THIS ONE

royalty au where george and dream are royals in opposing kingdoms and george isssss like idk 27-29 and dream is 21-23 but george's dad died when he was likeeeee 16 or 17 so hes been king since then and dream is still prince in his own kingdom but his father is old but georges father and dreams father didnt get along when georges father was still alive and dreams father insists on carrying out the rivalry that they had even though george literally paid him to shut him up, theyve been at war for years, close to a decade, (both families squabbling for more. both families have had issues for generations) w georges kingdom not losing much but dreams losing men, money, food and other resources bc his dad was a selfish ruler. at some point famine takes over dreams kingdom and george offers the king enough food to feed his whole kingdom for the winter in exchange for the kings only heir and the end of the war ('i will give you enough food to feed your whole country for one winter if you remove all your men from the battlefields and leave your only heir under my care, promise me the end of your bloodlines rule and i will make sure you live through the winter') (dreams dad struggled w having kids so losing his only heir would be a big deal) dreams dad never let him leave the castle often so he doesnt fully understand the state of his country but he understands that this war has wrecked their country and theyre on the brink of collapse so he willingly goes w george (''''''willingly'''''' meaning he gave himself up despite his fathers protests w the plan of sneaking back somehow) so george provides food for dreams country and dream follows george and basically lives by his side at all times??? idk what role this would be called but ykkkkk basically dream follows him around as george just runs his country and hes a cold a mericless ruler making all the decisions needed to make his country profit but he always makes sure to ensure the benefit of his people the people always work together and hes built shelters for the homeless and makes sure theres open opportunities for trading w other kingdoms and plenty of farms/food so they never suffer from famine and implemented a strong education system so everyone has a chance to excel in something. dream doesnt know much abt his own country bc his tutors and family always implied that their country was the best based solely on how well the upper class citizens were doing while there was a high homelessness rate and such, so dream always assumed 'if we're doing well everyone else should be doing just as well right?' bc he never knew any better but george got him a reliable tutor (techno, who also happened to be a war general/soldier whos a tutor while hes not deployed) and has people teach him to fight/defend himself (punz and sapnap bc i said so) and teach him how to be a strong respected ruler without being selfish and bigoted. when he first arrived in georges country he expected to be locked up and even potentially tortured bc hes the son of a king and bloodline who this country has been fighting w for generations but the people dont mind, hes given a good room and treated like royalty BC HE IS george only took him to his country to ensure the ending of dreams bloodline, not to make him miserable. also i take it back george isnt a 'cold and mericless ruler' hes just distant at first but dream sees him w his people and hes smiley and nice and open and charismatic and everyone loves him AND HES CONFUSED hes v distant w dream, not necessarily cold or anything more jsut hesitant? if that makes sense he really has no reason to be but he is and only around dream but eventually george takes him travelling to the peaceful parts of the kingdom, tutors him personally on specific topics (busy man doesnt have time for tutoring him all the time LOL) and teaches him to properly rule a country while still having the respect of ur people and having them like you to the point of wanting to help the country progress and perform well. dream sees this and wonders why his father never did this and george goes

on to explain bc his father was a 'greedy and corrupt leader in all honesty, im shocked he raised a kid as honest as urself' and dream talks abt how well his dad treated him and such and how he lost his mom young and how his dad was all he had and he really only showed dream his good side and really did try his hardest to be there for dream his whole life despite being a relatively distant father and george FINALLY OPENS UP TO HIM ABT HIS CHILDHOOD AND HOW HIS MOTHER WAS ACTUALLY KILLED MY MERCENARIES SENT BY DREAMS DAD WHEN GEORGE WAS 9 OR SUMN AND LOST HIS DAD ATTTT IDK FUCKIN 16 (mind u george only started tutoring dream after like 6 months of having him bc,,, distant) and dream apologizes profusely but george shuts him down bc 'its not ur fault its ur fathers, i dont mean to beat the dead horse but ur father isnt the man he showed u he is, i lost both of my parents to him so i took the thing he cares about most to get a way of subtle revenge, if that makes sense, i dont have to kill you to make him hurt' or sumn and dream realizes that george Hurts he lost both of his parents AS A KID to HIS FATHER he was forced into the throne at 16 bc no one else was responsible enough to do so and has been running the most successful kingdom in the area for over a decade while fighting a war w one hand and building a powerhouse of a country w the other, he managed to become the most responsible ruler before the age of 25, he gave up his childhood for the sake of his country and it shows hes a composed man, never taking time for himself and working himself to the bone having to put of w dreams fathers selfishness since the day he was brought to the throne

'ur father demanded gold for something my father had 'owed him', so i gave him gold. he father demanded food to repay a debt he made up, so i gave him food to silence him. he demanded a war as revenge on my ancestors so i killed his men. i killed and i killed and i killed until ur country couldnt take one more death, until one more life lost would cripple ur country beyond repair and forced him to beg me for resources and in exchange i got you. the single thing the would never give up and yet u gave yourself up bc u knew it was what was bet for your country, your people. youre nothing like your father dream and im sad ill never get to see you rule your own country' and dream just buries his head in his hands and puts his head on the table and just 'god george im so sorry and b4 u say its not my fault i know its not my fault my oblivion to everything that was happening my whole life everything happening to you, lead to so much suffering if i had just' 'dream its not your fault-' 'i know! i know its not but if i had just known-' 'dream. ur father kept u from knowing so u couldnt see what he was doing. there was nothing u could do. dont blame urself for what ur father did. ur his son but ur not him. im a terrible judge of character but i can see that much.' and dream stands up and hugs him over the table (this is the first time theyve ever gone out the way to touch each other in any way ft. v v v v v v v v touchstarved george x physically affectionate dream) and dream buries his head in georges neck and says 'i know its not my fault but that doesnt mean i cant say sorry for those who wont' and george just sits there and eventually just awkwardly pats the back of dreams head and they never talk abt it again

#dnf fic #dnf #GUYS IM SO SORRY #IM SO SORRY ABT THIS ONE GUYS #ITS BEEN HAUNTING ME FOR DAYS LITERAL DAYS #georgenotfound #dream mcyt #do i tag as the acutal people orrrr bc like idk #how abt i do both #c!dream #c!georgenotfound #i will in fact be adding more to this but this is all i got rn dw ill be back w more whether its tmrw or next month thats up to god #fic ideas

[daughterofhel]

.

My icon died last night.

The little black and white cat, Auk (or-ick). A silly name from a badly remembered name from my childhood.

He was pretty much deaf; car got him.

I haven’t seen him since I left Texas, as I moved for a year to VA before finally moving to be with my wife in Vento. One of my guy friends family took him in on their ranch.

It was fitting; I did get Auk from a ranch. He was used to it, loved it even. And this was without the competition of an unhealthy amount of breeding stays like the ones I grabbed him and Ivy up from. I could only take two, my friend the same.

Funny. I had originally gone there to see the birth of a colt only to leave with a cat. Return the next day and get one more, a friend for my tiny runt of a thing.

And who should but all demand it be him to leave with me but Auk? The friendliest of cats that I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. He also thwarted my attempts at having two girl cats. He was insistent to leave with me and you don’t argue when you’re chosen you know?

I won’t detail the tears following or the rough road and chaos that went on, but many double shifts back to back to back endlessly, a medicated clumsy grandmother with rapidly failing health, and complex roommate situations, I just wasn’t able to provide the needed time and care for my cats.

I cried the entire 45 minute drive to my buddys property when he said he could take them in. I had to pull over twice. They also cried the entire time, being afraid of the car, which made it harder. My buddy, He was the same guy who rescued a big pup clearly abandoned some years back. I had helped train him to not jump on people and other stuff. His folks also owned a longhorn ranch, lots and lots of space.

Those cats deserved better and this was a familiar element, now neutered, vaccinated, and with no stray competition and the dog was so careful. But god. I never wanted to say goodbye to my cats. It didn’t matter though, what I wanted; they needed care and time I wasn’t able to keep providing.

So I dropped them off. As expected, Ivy kept close but never got too close to the family. She simply doesn’t trust; I’ve no idea why such a little thing bonded instantly with me and remained quite the fixed cuddle bug. But she had. I felt worse about it with her than Auk if I’m to be honest.

Auk loved attention. Loved fetch. Belly rubs. This cat was a classic dog and a huge whore for attention. XD He essentially made himself at home and lavished any and all attention, to which my buddies mother instantly fell for this fuzzy dorks charms. He has been well cared for.

I know younger me could’ve and should’ve done better when I got these cats. Mind you, I’ve been gone for over 10 years now, so it has been quite some time. I’m doing what I wish I could have done for my cats then with the two rescues we got last year here.

I was young and working so many hours for nearly no profit after stuff was paid, even living at home and with roommates. I couldn’t afford the extra vet fees I needed or the fanciest of foods or any of that. I loved them, and I felt them being with me instead of the half starving state they were in from constantly competing with so many other cats, was still a better option for them. I still was at least able to do some of the important visits for them.

I cleared their fleas and earmites. I never did get rid of Ivys worms, though I desperately tried. I tried so many ways to get this pill into that cat. Even crushed into wet food. Friends helping to wrap and hold her to make her swallow. All the tricks we found, failed. She just. She wouldn’t take it. And I didn’t have the cash to go every single day and time she needed a dose to a pet clinic. I had checked more than once. It was so much money.

Older, better situated now.. I’ve been able to do right by the cats, Nyx and Tivali, that I have now.

We even saved Nyx’s eye. We have a system to give her her seizure medicine every 12 hours. They’re both fully up to date with their shots and are fixed. Ears totally clean. Monthly newly added anti flea tick collars.

The best food we can reasonably find at the local pet shop; their pelts are beautiful, soft, shiny, and they never smell.

We’ve even found a biodegradable corn based litter we can flush which has been the greatest find.

We get semi regular check ups on our girls and they’re doing just fine now. I’m still proud about saving Nyx’s eye. It was a tedious ordeal. 3-4 times a day we had to clean and medicate a cats eye. We got good at it even if she wasn’t fond of it. Thankfully the vitamins they required were like treats. Even the antibiotics from the colds they had from the shelter.

I miss Auk. And Ivy. And I wish I could’ve not only given them the life I’ve given my current cats now, (I’ve constructed basket beds, hammocks, a whole canopy jungle gym and rope bridge to boot for them with my wife!), but I wish I could have been the one to have them in my life still. I know it was not possible. It wouldn’t have been possible.

But I think of them. A lot. And I knew it was inevitable. Auk would’ve been well over 13 or so years by now. A little old but could’ve lived longer yet for sure. My buddy didn’t mention he has gone deaf. Of course he rarely goes home himself; I don’t blame him. Life’s complicated.

I have mourned these two cats multiple times now. So I’m not thrown into tears upon this news, I’ve cried plenty over the years already. But I’m still sad to hear that fuzzy delight has passed on. I won’t ask, but I hope, and believe, the accident was a quick end for such a friendly guy.

I’ll mourn him eventually in full. I know I will. But considering this is the fourth major bad news I’ve gotten in less than a month and most of it a week, I thought to write about it. If only to keep sane.

May I not receive the same news of my grandmother or my sister who both remain in the hospital.

And god. May my mother stop forcing me to recall and talk about our shared trauma under my father and just keep me up to date on my families health. I don’t want to be crushed under this suffocating vice on my neck that makes me hesitate to call and see my family. I know she needs to vent. And god. I try to let her. I do. I try to be kind; she needs it.

But it isn’t the time and place when I’m trying to figure out if my grandmother is dying or getting better. I shouldn’t have to receive that confirmation, be granted a brief video called hello and check in, with the price of an hour long dredge through a past I personally have gone to two different types of therapy through to try and cope with. Which, only to some degree, have helped.

One of the last longer calls we had she all but said she hoped her theories on my father possible molesting me were true, so, you know, that would be one more trauma we had in common. She went on and on, even trying to provide loose evidence to her theory. Troubling sentences I would say in my rare visits. Etc. She just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And that was after an hour of recalling how terrible her life was with my father and the abuse, the screaming, the terror, the hiding, the injuries, all of it. As if I wasn’t left to live my life with this very man she said her three years with ruined her more than all her past shit combined.

She assured me she was a good mother who tried. And honestly. No. But I do believe she tried. But she was already weak emotionally and mentally and my father wrecked what was left. She left me sometimes for a couple days lock in that house when I was in diapers. You don’t forget that shit. I’m still scared of the dark. I can’t reason with myself on it. But being mad about all of it doesn’t change anything and would hurt a woman already broken. Why would I do that.

Still. It bothers me. So fucking much. But she’s such a fragile person in a fragile emotional state with everything else on top. She’s been heavily depressed for many many years and it’s a bunch of other stuff that spirals and honestly, at this point, she’s toxic even to herself. I’ve tried working on it with her but it matters not if she’s not willing to work on it too. I don’t know my mother besides her many traumas. We’ve been separated and estranged for most of my life. Unless I was physically able to actually be there and provide a use.

But that’s par for the course; no one will have you around if you’re unable to provide something for it. My wife’s the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy having me around just because and wants nothing more. I do stuff of course; but with her I am not afraid a slip up could mean everything it taken away and lost. I can forget the dishes once or had a bad mental health day and stay in bed without it having catastrophic consequences. She’s such a wonderful kind woman; I cannot help stressing over how to repay her.

I try and I’ve expressed my distraught on the topic and though she always seems baffled and confused about my insistence that I should be doing far more, that lass doesn’t agree at all. It’s her parents home so I am not able to freely run the house as I would on our own, as I’m able and have in many places, so I’m often less useful with the restrictions. She’s also use to the flow and swing of things and has things half done before it’s being asked.

Our own place will make life smoother and calmer for both of us; most importantly her. I’ve watched this family, sweet, but absolutely tone deaf to how many and often their demands are tossed to her. All the other kids moved out with partners. Hell, the oldest s child basically lives here. Our own hurdle with raising a kid who we don’t have the final say on any single thing. His grandparents are enablers cuz they don’t want to hear any loud noises, no matter what. And that causes strain when the kid can and does get anything and everything as long as he kicks up a fit. And he sure as hell does. There are days it’s so bad my wife’s in tears. And that pisses me off. The kids a good person, but the fact no one will actually parent and draw definite lines and be firm with No’s can also make him horrible too.

I’ve to deal with the chess match that is my father. I often call him my own personal Devil. He kind of is. But one I’m familiar enough with at this point in my life. I know where and when to cut my losses, where to step around, when I need to swallow my pride or the easily seen through lies, and nod my head. If he was all terrible, I could have cut him from my life. But no one ever really is. And I do know I owe it to the man; he has helped tremendously in my life as much as he’s been a big problem of it. I know his biggest fear is to be alone and forgotten. I wouldn’t do that, not even to the devil.

I need some bland news. Not thrilling. Not depressing. Just some ‘hey that happened’ ‘oh cool.’ Kind of news. Just a small reprieve.

Im. Scared. Of what’s next.

I. Know that things are teetering dangerously into a very very tragic terrible story on my mothers end. I know her husbands already super suicidal. My half brothers severely autistic, non verbal, among a few other things and will require his whole life to have someone be there for him. He’s not stupid, and I hate when people treat him as so, but he is absolutely unable to care for himself. He doesn’t have the right motorskills even, though we’ve gone to many different places to try and help him find ways to do actions in his own way that still get the same result. I admire how he’s such a positive little man, generally not just happy, but delighted. I aspire to look at the world like he does. He reminds me to try. I do love that about him.

He is, however, a Big boy, 15 now, and growing. He’s also very strong now. My mother is getting to an age where his, as well call em happy slaps, are really hurting her. He is generally good about slapping your hands and not your back if you provide them. But when he is upset he is a shover; one bad fall could really cause a lot of chaos for my mother with her health. The husband spends most of his time locked in his room.

My half sister is epileptic. They have done tests for years and can’t figure out all her triggers or the whys. They just sometimes stop for a long time then suddenly happen. She’s 16, turning 17 soon. And I don’t even know if she’s going to be, since my mother won’t let me know. And there are large gaps from my sister being on tech due to concerns of what triggered her seizure this time so she’s often removed from electronic devices for a time.

When I had turned 21, my mother and her husband tried to have me sign a paper to become legal guardian of my half siblings, should something happen to them, so the kids didn’t get separated.

At that time, I was still taking care of my fathers mother along with working at a shit job, and had a house full of temporary roommates who I had offered rooms to as a sort of safe house for them. I have a knack for finding people from broken homes, what can I say? With the house my father and I built, we had space, so I used it. I was able to help the girls get out of toxic places, get on their feet, and move on. Not all of them always. But it did generally work out. One has a boyfriend who was growing worse to her on top of getting more and more into hard drugs while also she dealing with an abusive aunt who got worse once her mother died of cancer. So she was stuck with the terrible boyfriend. I had her stay with me as soon as I heard.

Another was complicated, but generally revolved around the alcoholic mother and the many, shady, men in and out of the house. The dangers of that alone were.. problematic without the friend also being suicidal and not taken seriously. I’ve stayed many times with her to just hang out, clean, cook, or even read a book cuz she just wanted to hear someone talking and such. You know? Until eventually I had her move in with me too.

Another’s mothers died of a cancer and dad an alcoholic; not abusive, he just became childlike and super forgetful. To a hurtful degree in his totally dependent state, whenever he was home. Plus their whole little trailer smelled of piss. And her boyfriend (they’re married with kids and happy now) was in jail. He had a bad past but had cleaned up his act quite well, but. Well that’s complicated. We all know that the police don’t squint at details of any issue if the accused has a problematic past.

I had two different girls with trouble at home who were being used by their family to constantly work, clean, and pay for everything.

I had an ex and her girlfriend with problematic homophobic parents who were terrible and semi violent so I had them stay with us so they could be together somewhere safer.

I did not. At all. Have the assured means to also be a parent of ten children with very different needs nor any medical benefits to help out with.

I also knew, that, with how my mothers husband was, if he had some guarantees for his children’s safety, he would likely end his life if he could. He’s been so close so many times. If signed this paper, he would have the last big most important concern that’s kept him from.. I just. I didn’t want him to do it. I selfishly didn’t want to be responsible for my siblings that would take away any bit of time I had for myself away. If anything happened, I would not abandon and forget my siblings. That’s absurd. But my mother implied heavily she wanted to be sure of that. And thus this paper.

I was struggling to find aid for college so I could go to school (never got to, by the way. Minus two classes in total. Aced them both, but it doesn’t matter. Credits in the wind). I was already dealing with my grandmother. The girls I chose to help. My shit job. My fathers temper and his horrible horrible ‘on again off again’ girlfriend. The chaos that alone committed.

I was busy providing a safe space in my home and making sure it stayed that way for the rare times trouble makers made the mistake of stepping up to my door to try and harass my girls.

I often worked 10 days in a row before a day off. Many of those days often had double shifts which were 16 hours. Sometimes I got an hour nap on the double shifts.

I just couldn’t do it.

And now. I remember something that came to mind back then that comes back to mind now. My moms husband adores my grandma. She’s been better to him than his own mother. She’s dying. He’s not taking it well and his mental health has always been pretty low and in the last couple years, already dangerously rock bottom. I’ll admit, same.

His daughter is now in the hospital. My brother is smart but there are some things we can’t really explain for him to get. He understands something is wrong but not sure what and it upsets him. He doesn’t like change and gets super fussy for it. Which can be taxing and hours and days and weeks of it. Grandmas been in the hospital for a couple more or more now. She coded a few days ago but they got her back.

If grandma dies. If something happens to my sister…

God. I don’t see that man sticking around.

And with my mom isolated. A lot of it her doing with her own family but also a good part of it being dumb petty bs of other folks that have no reason to behave like that (a whole drama I don’t have the energy to keep up with..). I just.

I see it as a domino effect of terrible terrible events I don’t want to write.

My mothers side im not very close to. I don’t blame my cousins, we were kids ajd our meetings were brief as they were. But the adults kept their distance with me. No one expected me to survive and decided it was easier to not get attached. To not get involved with me, and by extension, the devil himself, my father. So I never got the chance to know that family. Even when I tried.

So the only family I do have some ties to ajd know, is in a hospital bed, or on my dads side, and they’re dying to. And I get it… that at a certain age in life, many of the people around you start to. It’s just life. Ajd it sucks. And I miss having a best friend. I miss having friends who just seem to like to have me around. Want to have me around.

And I wonder if the friends I thought I made with my roommates were just because I provided something for them. Sure we laughed a lot, we cried over shared traumas, celebrated holidays together so as to not be alone.

But not a one speaks to me now. And hey. That’s also life. But it makes me feel pretty shitty; every where I look in the past, I can’t see any relationship, family, partner, friendship, that ever had me around unless I was providing services they wanted and needed. And I don’t mean the natural give and take.

I’m aware that I’m not the friend folks have around. I’m a fun distraction at best and have been told and reminded as such. I feel like shit cuz my wife’s wonderful and the best person in my life, and yet I still mourn having close friends to hang with. I miss gaming together the most. Or the bullshitting. Sharing food.

I’m not a nice person. I’m working on it. I am. I’ve also, for years, been working on my own personal problems so as to not bring them into even conversations. I don’t know what I am doing wrong but I just.. can’t seem to keep anyone around. And frankly.

I find myself crying about it a lot with no idea what to do.

And. I’m burnt out.

I don’t want to make friends anymore. And yet I still crave it. Which sucks. I can’t stop seeming to want that. And I keep trying. And trying.

I’m trying to accept and be happy with any bit of time I get from the few friends who talk to me. I try to take my chances where I can to hang out (online, as they’re all distance by now), cuz I know it’s a short window and I’ll be lucky to get a next time in the near future.

Online is harder to provide a use, and once the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the friendship winds down, some drop off the map entirely. A few abruptly. And I just. That’s fucked me ho a ton. I can’t even express how many hours I stay sitting. Thinking. Unable to understand what I am not doing or what I am.

It’s a pity party. I know. But it’s fine. I’m still the only one at it and though I’m quite forward even with nerves eating away at me, I still just don’t know how to keep anyone in my life.

It’s taken almost 6 years for me to relax enough to believe my wife will, in fact, stick around.

But at this point in time, I’ve realized, on a note I just keep getting really sad over, that the bits of friendship I’ll get to experience with people, will be brief, snippets, and frankly, only if I am providing something they’re not getting.

I’m essentially the magazine next to the toilet when you have a bad bad stomach bug and your phones dead.

Man’s that’s.. probably my own doing. I know I’m a lot of woe is me in here. And it’s a post talking to me, so I’m indulging in it. I absolutely can’t out loud or in life. I’m working on just.. trying to feel instead of ignoring it. Per my therapists suggestions. So I feel fucking overwhelmed, sad, and alone. Isolated. Heavily.

Ignorance is bliss for real. I wish I wasn’t so aware that I was the friend you go to when all options are down and you’re bored. When you are in a bind and need a safe spot (I don’t mind that one but it does suck that it’s the only time some folks pop back in or up). That if I’m not working then no one even has a small little want to just say hi. I wish I had people who just wanted to say hi because they just.. missed me? I gues?

I wish I knew how to be better as a person and a friend. I thought I was making strides on that. I really had. And yet.

Here I am. Just.

Bitching to the void. Becuase my wife doesn’t need me to add more to her life with her father (finally back from the hospital after surgery) and his health concerned along with everyone else’s and the own sets of ordeals here. I don’t need her to fret over me.

She’s needed distraction and I’ve left her alone for a couple weeks now to her drawing. Probably one of the best things I did do for her was clean up a space for a literal drawing room for her. She’s happier for it. People compliment her art and she rather enjoys the well deserved attention.

I personally would love to have her around more. But I’m having a lot of bad shit days. Weeks at this point. And I’m using my energy to be useful in setting the table or doing the dishes, the cats, playing with the nephew, etc.

All I want to do is sleep.

Frankly. I’m tired of waking up.

But for her. I will.

#void screaming #ignore

[openheart12]

Trial of Fire

Summary: After Tony’s trial, him and Michelle are given a couple hours to be alone. 

Word Count: 4,611

Today was the day that would determine their future, she hadn’t been able to sleep at all though of course she had barely gotten any sleep since his arrest. She didn’t even flinch when her alarm went off at six, she reluctantly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the long day ahead. The trial started at nine o’clock sharp. 

After getting out of the shower, she took care of her hair so it wouldn’t be as crazy as it usually is, letting a few strands fall to frame her face. For her makeup, she went for an all natural look and waterproof mascara. She chose a black pencil skirt and a scarlet red blouse, red represented courage and if she ever needed courage, it was definitely today. 

She was ready by a quarter till eight and went downstairs to find something to eat, not that she was hungry but because she hadn’t been able to eat either since his arrest. Not that she was even able to cook something without the risk of burning it. She was a shell of the woman she used to be and it had been less than a month since he’s been gone. 

She visited him every weekend on Saturday’s at eight o’clock. She never missed one visit, it was the only time she was able to see him and it was through a glass, but it was something. Tony also took notice of the bags under her eyes and although she had always been petite, he could tell she was losing weight. 

She finally decided on half a banana and a piece of toast before going to let their dog, Major, out to use the bathroom. The German Shepherd was a Christmas gift to Michelle for their one year wedding anniversary. At the time, Tony was working more than normal and he wanted Michelle to have someone with her while he was gone and so he went to the animal shelter, finding a puppy that he knew would be perfect for her. 

After eating and giving the dog food and water, she was on her way out the door. She pulled into the parking lot ten minutes before the trial and taking deep breaths, she willed herself to go inside. Tony needed her and she could do this for him especially after he risked everything to save her, something she blamed herself for, but she couldn’t dwell on that right now. 

She was surprised to find Jack, Kim, Chase, Adam, and even Chloe waiting inside. Jack was the first to approach her, giving her a gentle hug. 

“You ready?”

No. “Yeah,” she gave him a small smile as they all walked through the doors to take a seat on the wooden benches. The judge walked in a few minutes after them followed by the prosecution and then Tony and his lawyer. He was dressed in clothes she had never seen before, but he was still her Tony. 

The bailiff started to speak, “please rise. The Court of the Second Judicial Circuit, Criminal Division, is now in session, the honorable Judge Taylor presiding.”

They met eyes and time slowed down just for a second, it was just the two of them before the judge banged his gavel. The bailiff swore in the jury before the start of the trial. 

“Members of the jury, your duty today will be to determine whether the defendant is guilty or not guilty based only on facts and evidence provided in this case. The prosecution has the burden of proving the guilt of the defendant beyond a reasonable doubt. This burden remains on the prosecution through the trial. The prosecution must prove that a crime was committed and that the defendant is the person who committed the crime. However, if you are not satisfied of the defendant’s guilt to that extent, then reasonable doubt exists and the defendant must be found not guilty.” Judge Taylor explained. “Mr. Anderson, what is today’s case?” He asked the bailiff. 

“Your Honor, today’s case is The State of California versus Anthony Almeida,”he replied. 

“How does the defendant plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor.” 

“Is the prosecution ready?”

“Yes, your Honor,” the prosecutor stood up before taking his seat once more. 

“Is the defense ready?”

“Yes, your Honor,” Tony’s lawyer replied. 

After opening statements were made, it was time to call witnesses for each side. 

“The prosecution would like to call Brad Hammond to the stand.”  

Michelle turned around to see Brad strolling through the doors, a smirk plastered across his face. 

The bailiff swore him in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

Brad replied with, “I do.” 

“You have evidence that the defendant, Anthony Almeida, committed treason against the United States of America to save his wife, correct?”

“Yes. We found out after Jane Saunders had been taken out of CTU and later found to be with Agent Almeida. We also had Stephen Saunders surrounded until Tony called the field teams to tell them to move positions to give Saunders a chance to escape. We took him into custody after Jack Bauer headed up teams to capture Saunders.” 

“And he put millions of lives at risk in order to save one by doing so.”

“Correct, Division had always been weary of inter office relationships, but when Tony and Michelle came to us saying they had been in a relationship and said they would be able to keep their personal and professional lives separate, we believed them, I believed them and that was my mistake.” 

“That’s all I have for this witness.”

Tony’s lawyer was next. “Are you married Mr. Hammond?” 

“Objection!” The prosecution called out. 

“It goes to show my clients thoughts.”

“Overruled, but tread carefully Mr. Wilson.” 

“Yes, I’m married.” Hammond replied. 

“And you love your wife?”

“Of course I love my wife.”

“Would it be safe to say that you would do anything you could to keep her safe?”

“I- yeah, I suppose.” 

“That’s exactly what Mr. Almeida did that day. He did what any person would do for the person they loved. He acted as any husband would act in a situation like that and he shouldn’t be blamed or be put in jail for being human.”

“But he put millions of people at risk by doing that!” 

“No one died. No one was hurt in the process and that’s what matters. Not what could’ve happened.” 

“But-” he tried to say something, anything else to help the prosecution. 

“No further questions.” 

“The defense calls Jack Bauer to the stand.” Jack squeezed Michelle’s shoulder before going up to take a seat. 

The bailiff swore him in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do,” Jack said. 

“You and Mr. Almeida have worked together for some time, would you consider him a friend?”

“Yeah, we both went through a lot and he was there after my wife died. Our jobs are extremely stressful and dangerous and it’s nice to have friends who can understand that.” 

“I’m sorry about your wife, but speaking of her, didn’t you too have to put your wife above other people?”

“Yes.”

“And you think what Mr. Almeida did is justified?” 

“I do. No one got hurt by his actions, he was trying to protect his wife and I would’ve done the same thing if I was in his shoes. 

“Thank you, no further questions.”

The prosecutor stood up, taking a minute to think of his next questions. “You agree with everything Agent Almeida did? What if innocent lives had been lost?” 

“I can’t answer that seeing as it didn’t happen.” 

“What if it had?”

“It’s a hypothetical question to which I have no answer for,” Jack said, holding his ground. 

“No further questions.” 

Each party called more witnesses: analysts, techs, anyone they could think of to improve their case. The judge called a recess around lunch time and Michelle reluctantly followed the others out to go eat somewhere even though she wasn’t hungry. She locked eyes with Tony until the guards pulled him away. 

“It’s going pretty good, right?” Kim asked and everyone agreed, but Michelle couldn’t shake this gut feeling she had. It felt like even as good as they think things were going, it wouldn’t be good enough. 

She had ordered a salad and she was pushing it around with her fork while the others were eating and Jack noticed. When they finished eating and started to head back to the courthouse, Jack pulled her aside for a minute. 

“Are you okay?” He asked after hesitating. 

“I just… I have a bad feeling about today. If he goes to prison… it’ll be all my fault and I don’t know if I could live knowing I put my husband in there. Out of everyone, Tony doesn’t deserve this. He’s spent his life putting away terrorists and protecting his country and this is how they repay him? It’s not fair.” 

“I know, trust me I know, but Tony needs you to be strong for him right now and that means we can’t be thinking about what will happen if he’s convicted, we have to hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“I know, I feel so helpless though, Jack. I want to help him but how?”

“You can testify on his behalf, tell them what an amazing husband he is and how much he loves his job. Are you ready to beat this thing?” 

That sinking feeling came back, but she pushed it away and plastered a smile on, “yeah, I’m ready.” 

Back in the courtroom, it was her turn to take the stand. When the prosecution called her name, she stood up on wobbly knees and tried to get her nerves under control to no avail. 

The bailiff swore her in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do,” the two words tasting bitter on her tongue at the moment. Two words that once meant a promise to each other were now being used against them. 

“Miss Dessler-“

“It’s Mrs. Almeida, I keep Dessler at work to avoid confusion between me and Tony.”

“Mrs. Almeida,” he started again, “how long have you and Mr. Almeida been married?”

“Three years, but we’ve been together just a little over four years.”

“And during that time have you and Mr. Almeida ever been put into a situation where one of you is in danger?” 

“Yeah.”

“But both of you were always fine, minor injuries if anything so why was the day in question any different? You’re sitting here in front of the court today with no physical injuries shown. I’m trying to understand why your husband had to put millions of lives at stake, people in this very room could’ve died because of his actions, but you were his priority. He ignored the oath he took to protect this country and its people to save you. Do you see the problem?” He asked as if she was a child. 

“Tony did what he thought was right at the time, he did what anyone would do for the person they love. It was an unprecedented situation. Take his job, make sure he never works for the government again, but don’t take his life away. He’s done so much for this country, he was a marine, he fights to protect this country every day from terrorists and the one time he does something wrong, he’s threatened with prison. I’ll say it again, no one was hurt by his actions, not one person was even put in danger.” 

“You say this was an unprecedented situation, but aren't unprecedented situations a part of your jobs? Can you pinpoint when the next terrorist attack is going to be? Are you going to immediately know how to deal with the next attack? Let’s take the Cordilla virus as an example, that was unprecedented and you led the team inside that hotel. You set up command and took charge, you reassured the guests, you got them suicide pills to end their suffering, you shot a man who was trying to leave the premises. All of that was unprecedented and yet, you were able to deal with it.”

“I wasn’t threatened with the idea of my husband having his eye cut out. I can’t speak to what Tony was feeling or what was going through his head, but I know how scared he must’ve been, how scared anyone would’ve been in that situation.” 

“You can be scared without putting lives at risk, agent. People doubted your ability to work with your husband and keep your professional and personal lives separate and maybe if you had listened to them, you or Tony wouldn’t be here right now. So who’s fault is it really?” He mumbled the last sentence for only her to hear. 

“Objection, badgering the witness.” The defense called out. 

“Withdrawn. No further questions.” He said before the judge could say anything. “Your witness.”

“Mrs. Almeida, it’s obvious you love your husband smd that he loves you. How do you feel about his actions?”

No one had asked her that and she was thrown off guard for a split second. “He saved my life,” she met his eyes as she spoke. “I’m eternally grateful for him and if I ever had any doubts about how much he loved me, I would look back at what he did.” 

“No further questions.” He gave her a small smile to put her at ease, but her eyes were still locked on Tony’s. 

“The next person we call to the stand is Anthony Almeida. 

The bailiff swore him in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.” He responded firmly. 

“It’s been made clear how much you love your wife, it’s admirable really. You hear how people say they will do anything for the person they love, but a lot of the time they can’t prove it but you’re one of the few who did. Would you do it again?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “She’s my whole world and as long as she’s safe, I don’t care what happens to me. I’m glad no one got hurt by what I did but it doesn’t change the fact I’d do it all over again if I had to.” 

A few more questions later after the defense was satisfied with his answers, it was the prosecution's turn. 

“You love your wife, correct?”

“Yes.”

“At any point while she was inside the Chandler Plaza Hotel did you ever tell her you loved her?”

“No, it was implied through every conversation we had. Michelle knows I love her, if I say it or not but at work we keep it professional.” 

“Professional? You call kidnapping Jane Saunders in order to trade her for your wife professional behavior? You didn’t tell your wife you loved her after claiming that you do and on top of all that, you said you would do it all again.” 

“Stop right there. You can question my loyalty, you can put me in prison for the rest of my life, you can do whatever the hell you want, but don’t ever question my love for my wife. She has been through hell and back and she’s saved me in more ways than one. She is the only thing I look forward to after a twenty four hour shift when we’re both on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion but she’ll smile at me and everything is okay again. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. I would do anything to keep her safe even if it meant putting myself in danger. She is my life and you can take me away from her, but it won’t change a damn thing.”

“No further questions, the prosecution rests, your Honor.” 

“The defense also rests, your Honor.”

“Members of the jury, you have heard all of the testimony concerning this case. It is now up to you to determine the facts. You and you alone, are the judges of the fact. Once you decide what facts the evidence proves, you must then apply the law as I give it to you to the facts as you find them,” the judge said, his attention directed to the jurors. 

Tony went back to his seat, anger evident in his body language. After closing statements, it was time for the jury to deliberate. His fate was now in the hands of complete strangers. 

A long two hours later, they came back with a verdict. 

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked. 

“We have, your Honor,” the jury foreperson responded. 

“What say you?” 

“We the jury, in the case of The State of California versus Anthony Almeida find the defendant guilty of the charge of treason against the United States of America.”

She swore she felt her heart stop once the words left her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes which she refused to let fall in front of everyone. 

“Thank you, jury, for your service today. Court is adjourned.” 

“No, no you can’t do this,” she shouted before realizing what she was doing. Jack gently grabbed her and guided her out into the hall where she let her tears fall freely.  

“They can’t… they can’t do this Jack, not after everything he’s done. I can't… I can’t breathe,” her chest was rising up and down rapidly, her breathing heavy. The signs of a beginning panic attack. 

“Breath with me, Michelle,” he took deep breaths and she followed his lead until her breathing went back to normal. 

“I need to see him,” she started to head back through the doors before he stopped her. 

“They’re not going to let you see him right now, they have to book him and in a couple hours they’ll let you but until then, we have to wait,” he explained calmly. 

“This is bullshit and you know it. They’re not even going to let us be alone and twenty years, Jack, twenty fucking years. That’s how long they’re taking him away for. It’s not right, it’s not fair.” 

“I know Michelle, but Tony needs you right now and you need him. You can still visit and trust me, I know it’s not the same but it’s something and that’s what you have to remember.” 

“What do we do now?”

“We wait, I’ll try talking to some guards I know to see if the two of you can have some privacy, but I’m not promising anything.”

“Okay, thank you Jack.”

He shot her a smile, “it’s the least I can do, until then, just try to relax.”

Jack drove them to Federal Correctional Institute where his sentence was to be held out. The building looming in the distance reminded her of everything they were going to lose in a few short minutes. 

“I’m gonna go talk to my friend inside and I’ll come get you when I’m done.” 

She nodded her head while looking blankly ahead. This didn’t feel real, she wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare she was currently in. She didn’t know how much time had passed when she saw Jack heading back towards the SUV. 

“You have three hours, it’s all I could get and I convinced them to give you privacy and I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.” 

“Does he know?”

“No, I think he’d like to hear it from you more.”

“Thank you Jack.” 

He smiled in response. They headed inside the building and passed through security. Jack led her down a hall lined with cells on either side until arriving in front of a holding cell that provided privacy. 

“He’s in there?” She asked nervously. 

“Yeah.” 

Jack opened the door to reveal Tony in an orange jumpsuit. “Jack, how’s Miche- Michelle?” Shock was etched in his voice at seeing her in front of him. 

“Hi,” she smiled, the first real smile he’s seen. 

“Hey.” They stood there staring at each other until the initial shock wore off and in the next second, he was wrapping his arms around her. Tears flowed down over her cheeks, the feeling of his arms around her was comforting, something she would never take for granted again. 

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” 

“I needed to see you. I can’t believe this is all happening and it’s all my fault and I’m sorry, Tony, I’m so sorry.” 

“Oh, Michelle, I don’t blame you. Like I told you earlier, you’re alive and I can live with that. Promise me that you won’t blame yourself?” 

“I promise,” her voice slightly wavered. 

“How did you manage to get back here?”

“Jack, he talked to some friends he had inside and he got us three hours alone and I know it’s not a lot but-”

He cut her off. “It’s perfect.” 

He led her over to one of the chairs in the room and sat down, pulling her onto his lap. 

“I missed you,” he said, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her scent in as to memorize it. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Tony,” she cried softly. “This is all my fault, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me or if I had waited for the hazmat suits and all those people… those agents… Gael… are dead because of me. I shouldn’t have listened to Jack when he told me to go back. We were so close.” 

“You can’t think like that, Michelle. I meant what I said in court, I would choose you over and over because I love you and I am incredibly grateful that no one was hurt by my actions. You made all the right decisions today and I know you don’t think so, but you helped so many people today and the people who died today, Gael, they will be remembered as heros. You saved even more lives today by listening to Jack. I can live here knowing that you’re safe and alive. I almost lost you twice today and you’re still here which is more than I could ask for. And Michelle-”

“Don’t, please,” she begged, cutting him off because she knew him well enough to know what he was going to say next. 

“I just want you to be happy, even if you find that it’s not with me in five, ten years. You deserve nothing but the best and I won’t be able to offer you that and I just want you to have that option, if you ever need it and I want you to know that you don’t have to feel bad if that moment ever comes.” he finished. 

“Tony, please, I can’t… I can’t talk about that right now. We don’t have long and I don’t want to spend that time talking about-”

“I know, sweetheart. I have so much to say and I just- I thought I had forever to say it, but now,” he glanced at the clock, “I have two and a half hours.” 

They spent the next couple hours talking about anything and everything that came to mind: their wedding day, visits with each of their families, all the different things they loved about each other, the day they met, their first date, the night he proposed, the might he brought Major home, holidays they spent together, the day they moved into their house, memories that they only knew and treasured. 

But time was quickly running out. 

The guard had come to notify them that they only had thirty minutes left. 

They spent a few minutes sitting in silence, soaking in each other's warmth and closeness.

“I don’t know how to do this without you, I can’t go home knowing that you’re here and-”

“You’re going to go home and do the best you can, alright? I know it won’t be easy, but you have to try to eat and get some sleep. It’ll be hard for awhile, for both of us, but we’ll get through it. We survived a bomb, a nuclear bomb, World War Three, a virus, and we’re still here. A twenty year sentence doesn’t seem too bad after that,” he said jokingly and when it seemed impossible, she started to laugh. 

“We have survived far worse.”

Two guards walked in after that and all hints of smiling and laughter were now gone. 

Time was up.

Tears started to form in her hazel eyes and his chest tightened. “We’re gonna get through this.”

“I know,” she replied. “This is hard.” she choked out, her voice breaking. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He helped her stand up before getting up himself and wrapped his arms around her, placing kisses on the top of her head. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much, Tony.”

He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, pouring out his emotions. After the kiss ended, he reluctantly let her go and a guard came up behind him.

He walked him out and with one last glance at her, he disappeared from her view. 

“I’m sorry,” the other guard offered apologetically and she knew it wasn’t just because their time was up. She just nodded at him in response, talking right now was too hard. He led her out to the parking lot where she met Jack in his SUV. 

He didn’t say anything, not like he had to, he could only imagine what she was feeling right now. They spent the twenty minute drive to their house in complete silence and when he pulled into their driveway, she thanked him quietly before getting out.

“Hey,” he called after her softly. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Jack,” she offered a small smile before heading inside and the first thing she noticed was the quietness. Her and Tony would always walk through the door smiling and laughing, even after a tough day. Even if one of them got home first, it was never quiet. Family and friends would come over on their days off or on the weekends. The house was always filled with love and happiness, but now… but now it was completely silent. 

The silence was going to be the hardest part of coming home. She walked up the stairs leading to their bedroom to find Major asleep in the middle of the bed.

She undressed and put on one of his shirts and a pair of his sweatpants that engulfed her small frame. The lingering smell of his cologne relaxed her a little bit and she climbed into the bed that was way too big for one person. Major woke up and moved his head to lick her face. He was a baby when it came to Michelle and every night, he was snuggled up behind her and tonight was no different. 

She didn’t know what the future held, but for now, she would try to get some sleep like she promised and would go back to the prison to visit him as soon as possible. The time they had together earlier was enough for now and she drifted off into the first real sleep she’s had in a month. 

There was still hope and until there wasn’t any left, she wasn’t going to give up on him. 

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