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toorusproblems · 3 years

Note

If your still taking requests can I request a death note oneshot nsfw were it’s after Light’s fathers death and the reader doesn’t like Light in fact hates Him but starts to feel sorry for him and later that day decides to visit his apartment to help him deal with his grief and ask if there is anything she can do to help him and light subtly implies that she can help him by sleeping with him and the reader is tempted to but doesn’t want to because she remembers she dislikes him and he has a girlfriend but light eventually persuades her into it ?

Just this once?

pairing: light yagami x f!reader

wc: 1.4k

cw: infidelity (light cheats on misa), dubcon, coercion, reader is L’s little sister, not proofread (lmk if i missed anything!!!)

hi!! sorry this took forever, i took a lil break from writing. i tried my best to stick to the request but idk how well i did lmao but even so, i hope you like it!!!

Your dead-set focus is suddenly ripped from you as the familiar noise of the task force headquarters’ door creaking open pulls your eyes away from the bright computer screen. To your displeasure, the new presence in the room is none other than Light Yagami.

“Oh, Light! I thought we agreed you didn’t have to come in today?” An uncharacteristically soft-spoken Matsuda greets.

“Yeah, but I guess my father’s passing only fueled me to get to the bottom of this even more.” Light states.

Being L’s sister, you’ve inherited the black-haired boy’s suspicion of Light. After all, you were the only person in the world that L trusted with his entire heart and soul. Those countless times you’ve stayed up together throwing theories about the Kira case back and forth, only for you and the night itself to hear.

Though your brother was undeniably a bit smarter than you, you weren’t stupid either. With everything L had theorized about Light’s true identity, it’s hard for you to write off L’s death as a coincidence. The timelines just seemed to line up too perfectly.

Everything on top of the fact that because of your investigation work on the Kira case you were barely even given time to mourn the loss of your precious older brother, a heavy dislike of the brown-haired man festered in you.

Even so, you can’t help but feel sympathetic towards him today. After all, it’s true that you know what it feels like to lose a close family member too.

“Hey, Light,” his name feels sour on your tongue, “if you want I can take the heavy lifting today, don’t stress, alright?”

His eyes meet yours, and you take note that they look even more dead than usual.

“It’s okay, Y/N, no need to worry.”

—

No need to worry.

Well, you did worry. All day in fact.

You hate yourself for feeling so empathetic towards the man who you suspect of being behind the killing of your very own brother.

But here you are now, about to knock on Light’s apartment door with a small bouquet of tulips in your left hand. Nothing special, you told yourself, just something to show that you care at least a little.

As you raise your right knuckles to the wooden surface, the door suddenly swings inward.

“Oh hello, Y/N. Pretty flowers you’ve got there.” Light points at the objects in your grip.

That’s it. That’s another thing that you hate about him. How he always seems to be one step ahead of you in even the smallest things. How it feels like he always knows what you’re thinking. It’s almost like he’s watching you sometimes, for fuck’s sake!

“These are for you, actually.”

“Really?” he fakes a smug expression, making you cringe, “Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing. Feel better soon.”

You turn to leave, but Light’s hand catches your shoulder.

“Wait. Before you leave, can you come in for a second?”

“Oh uh… sure? Why?”

You receive no response as Light silently motions you onto his couch. A nervous pit grows in the bottom of your stomach.

“So uh… what do you need me for?” You ask apprehensively.

“Just want to talk. It feels like forever since we’ve actually sat down together and had a conversation, you know?”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were keeping in. “Yeah, it has been a while.”

Yet another awkward silence passes. The sheer quietness seems very strange to you for a moment until it hits you.

“Hey, where’s Misa? Is she out at a shoot or something?”

“So observant.” Light chuckles, and with the tone he puts on, you’re not sure if he’s being sarcastic or not, “Yes, she’s filming a commercial for Miho Skincare. Or at least that’s what she told me before she ran out the door.”

“Oh, I see.” You bite your lip, unsure of how to continue the conversation, “Do you want me to put the flowers in a vase for you?” You ask, picking up the tulips from the coffee table.

Light moves his hand to your thigh in a smooth motion, catching you very off guard so that you nearly drop the bouquet. You hate the fact that blood rushes to your cheeks.

“No need. But there is something else I want from you, if I’m going to be blunt.” His eyes pierce directly through you. You feel naked under his gaze.

Fuck, as many negative feelings you harbour for the man in front of you, you can’t deny he’s attractive in all sense of the word. You know what he’s asking for. It’s plainly clear even just from the lust blooming in his irises.

And it’s then when you realize how touch-starved you are. You’ve been using every available hour of your life on the Kira case, of course you hadn’t had time for any kind of relationship.

So you don’t stop him from inching closer. One of his hands sliding towards the inside of your thigh while the other pushes a piece of your hair from your face. His captivating eyes flutter shut and you’re about to give into his touch when you remember the girl you had been talking about just a moment earlier.

“Wait. Misa.” You whisper simply.

“She won’t be home for hours. And you want to make me feel better, do you not? I’m just asking for one more thing in addition to those flowers you gave me, hm?” He borderline growls into your ear. You would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a little.

Without waiting for an answer, Light crashes his lips onto yours. The kiss is hungry, like he wants to waste no time with you. Admittedly, you still feel a little uneasy about all of this, Misa’s face—sweet as candy—beaming at you in your mind as her boyfriend sucks on your tongue.

You feel around each other’s bodies, unbuttoning anything you feel to rid yourselves of your clothing. It all goes so fast, and before you know it, you’re both in your undergarments. Light’s got you lying beneath him with your knees pressed to your chest. He reaches to pull your grey cotton panties to the side.

Suddenly, the peppy blonde girl inside your head once again appears, and you realize what you’re doing.

“Hang on, Light. I’m not too sure about this anymore…” You weakly tell him, pushing his hands away from your most sensitive area.

“Hm? But you promised you’d help me feel better.” Light throws uncharacteristic puppy eyes your way. He points to the wet patch that had formed on the centre of your panties, “And look, you want it too, right? Just this once? Please?”

It’s true, you had come here to make him happier. So why should you go back on it now? You criticize yourself, wondering how you could ever be so inconsiderate—to a coworker who just lost his father, too!

So you nod your head in coerced approval towards the man on top of you, who then in turn wasted no time pulling his cock out from his boxers.

Without warning, or any prep whatsoever, Light pushes the head of his cock into your cunt. The stretch burns, and you’re left wondering if it’s just because you haven’t gotten laid in quite a while, or if his cock is just that fat.

“Light!” You whine in slight protest, “You’re too big… hurts…”

He only hums in response, pushing himself further into you, “Sorry, little one, this cunt is just so tight, I can’t help myself. Fuck-“

Light starts a rhythm, watching his cock sink in into you over and over again. He notes how each time he pulls out, a sheen of both your slick, and even some blood coats it. Must’ve just been too big for your little cunny, he guesses.

The pain of the stretch slowly turns into pleasure and you relax into Light’s touch. You throw your hands into his surprisingly soft brunette locks as he pounds into your sweet spot.

You wonder if L is watching you right now. He must be so disappointed in his little sister, moaning and creaming so sweetly for the very same man he thought he had taught you to be wary of, the man who made the world a living hell.

#zap⚡️ is typing...#zap⚡️.answers #lights.⚡️#death note smut #death note x reader #cw coercion #cw manipulation #cw dubcon #cw cheating #light yagami x reader #light x reader #light yagami smut

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Miss Missing Curfew

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it :)

Summary: How does Hotch react to his daughter missing her curfew?

Warnings: angry Hotch and angry teenager

Wordcount: 1.3k

✨Masterlist✨ ______________________________

(Y/N) always was an outgoing person. From the moment on she was able to speak coherently and walk steadily the whole world became her friend.

Aaron and Haley surely wanted to encourage her to socialize and meet new people, but they still had to set limits and establish rules to live by. A curfew for example. This is something both parents insisted on her following and (Y/N) did without a fail. After all she knew about her father’s job, what kind of people are out on the streets creeping around and that her parents were concerned about her wellbeing all the time.

Especially after her mother’s death the girl was careful to be at home on time. She didn’t want to be another reason Aaron has to worry. This was before she hit high school. In her freshman year (Y/N) goes through a small and short rebellious phase.

It starts with talking back, not much or mean, but Hotch has to tell her to do a certain chore a few times and has to expect to get some kind of backlash. He doesn’t let it slide, of course, just telling her off and usually his daughter stops and does as told.

“Dad, I’ll be out with a few classmates!” (Y/N) calls into the kitchen, where Aaron is finishing cleaning the counters. “Alright, Sweetheart. Be home by nine!” She pops her head into the room and smiles at him. “I will. Love you!”

It’s currently 8:30 and Hotch sits patiently in the living room watching TV. Every few seconds his eyes dart towards his phone, waiting for it to make a sound. Normally the teenager would have sent him a message by now, telling him she is on her way back home. Out of all the reasons and excuses his mind goes through, the agent decides on her forgetting to text him. After all this is nothing he has ever told her to do, (Y/N) does it on her own accord. Or maybe her phone died and she hasn’t had the opportunity to charge it.

But the closer the clock is to nine, his reasoning gets darker. What if she got into an accident with her bike and is in some hospital by now, listed as a Jane Doe. Is it too early to make a few calls to different ERs?

By the time the clock strikes nine, Hotch is totally convinced (Y/N) lays dead in a ditch. After all she is always on time or letting him know she is late because of a good reason. But his phone hasn’t made a noise since six and this was Penelope sending him a cat gif in hopes to make him smile (it’s her secret mission).

His calls go straight to voicemail. By 9:30 Aaron is sure something so bad had happened, that nobody even dares to inform him. Still, he tries to keep it level headed. He gives her time until ten before he takes action.

But as soon as ten comes it also goes by. For a father waiting on his child time flies and slowly goes by simultaneously. Just as he takes the phone at exactly 11:23 to call his colleagues, because (Y/N) is either kidnapped or dead and he needs their help and advice, keys jingle at the door.

The lost thought person looks sheepishly at her father, who stands with crossed arms and the coldest glare in history in the hallway. “Heyyy Dad, how are you doing? Did you know that you only can swallow two to three times before your body stops you doing that? Well, it’s late and I have to go to bed. Goodnight!” But her attempt to slip beside him is short lived after Aaron sticks his arm out and hinders her.

“I ask you this only one time. Why are you late?” His dangerously calm voice makes (Y/N) stand up straighter.

“Uhm, well do you know that Albert Einstein once said time is relative? And he said that three minutes-” “Stop trying to crap you way out of this. I want an answer before deciding on your punishment. Now give me the truth and the truth only.”

His cold eyes make the teenager look away. She knows that she has lost this battle. “I forgot to check the time. But Dad-” Hotch cuts her off: “No buts. We established your curfew for a good reason and this reason was not you breaking it. You are grounded for two weeks and no electronics for one. No discussions.”

Ok, (Y/N) may know that this battle is lost, but this doesn’t stop her from trying. “That’s unfair! It’s the first time I’m late, Dad. Don’t be such a stuck up.” After uttering those words she realizes that she only dug a deeper hole for herself.

“You call this unfair?! Then how do you name the worries and fear I had to endure over the last two and a half hours, wondering where you were? Thinking about which UnSub could have kidnapped you or in which ditch you may lay dead?” It’s uncommon for Aaron to raise his voice against his daughter. It’s just that all of the built up stress breaks out of him at once.

“I don’t know, Dad? I think I’ll call it overreacting? All of the other kids’ parents aren’t that strict about their curfew! I’m a teenager for crying out loud! Let me live a little! Just because you hadn’t ever let loose in your life, you don’t have to control me like that! This is why Mo-” Suddenly everything goes silent. (Y/N) knows not to end this sentence, because it’s not fair to say that.

“Go to your room.” Hotch’s face goes stone cold again. Without wasting a second she rushes out of the hallway.

In this night nobody gets any sleep (except for Jack, who is oblivious to what happened). Both of them feel too guilty to close their eyes. (Y/N) on the one hand knows that she has crossed a line. To be honest she missed her curfew intentionally, just to test the limits. While lying in her bed, she sees that this was immature and stupid.

On the other hand Aaron cools off enough to see that he is the one who is unfair. He loaded something up on his daughter, just because he grew too paranoid due to all the things he sees in his job.

The next morning is filled with an awkward tension. (Y/N) and Hotch try to avoid each other, knowing they went too far last night. For the most part it works, because he has to drop the youngest off at a friend’s house. That gives both of them enough time to collect their bearings and decide to be the bigger person in the following conversation.

This is why (Y/N) waits at the door as she hears her father parking in the driveway. A bit taken aback by her eagerness, he enters the hallway.

“I’m sorry”, they say at the same time. Baffled by this, they look at each other. “I’m sorry for being such a moody teenager and only seeing my own problems and not acknowledging your point of view.” Aaron shakes his head. “No, I have to apologize. You are allowed to be a moody teenager, I’m just not prepared to deal with one. I promise I’ll get better at that and will give you more freedom and ‘let it loose’ more often. But you are still grounded-”

This gets a groan out of her. “You didn’t let me finish! I said you are still grounded with the possibility of reducing your sentence by doing more chores and behaving. Deal?” (Y/N) acts like she has to think about it before smiling and taking the hand her father offers. “Deal!”

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #x reader #reader insert #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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hunterexamcheatsheet · 3 years

Link

Explaining how the Mafia functions, Kurapika in the mafia community and why the other “Neon died” theories don’t work from the Mafia Structure perspective

Please read this if you’re interested in how Kurapika in the mafia functions in the HxH world.

I went to roam around the Chinese forums using Kurapika and Neon's name (酷拉皮卡和妮翁; pronounced as Kù Lā Pí Kǎ and Nī Wēng) to try and find some KuraNeon content in the Chinese fandom.

I found a Chinese blog that also talks about the dolphin theory that @anotherworldash has thought of. You may use Google translate for the link above to read it. You may also view what @u-named had summarised here regarding the dolphin theory. I had reblogged it before but I got very excited when I saw that another fan had thought of it.

I’m so glad that other people from non-English fandoms had also thought of it (and not just the usual theories of Neon dying, but exploring other explanations why it’s possible for her to be still alive). I might be slightly biased, but I disliked how everyone just jumped into the assumption that she’s dead because her name disappeared from Chrollo’s book. From what I see, HxH deaths are often shown or at least heavily implied. We also got false narratives like the one with Kite in CA arc.

We do not see her dead body. Or any major hints of what happened to her.

What’s more, Kurapika implied that the previous owners where he had acquired the Scarlet Eyes from did not need to be killed. While this only means that Kurapika did not kill Neon, and it’s possible that other people might have killed her or she had died by accident/natural cause, it’s still something to think about.

The flaw in some of the “Neon’s dead” theories

I think u-named already discussed this a bit, but I’m going to elaborate it a little further. I am actually thinking of posting regarding the mafia theme, but that will take a while. I had been researching the functions of mafia in both reality and media, in order to understand what goes on in mafia families in HxH.

The theories regarding “Neon was killed by the mafia community”, “Light Nostrade killed her” and “she committed suicide” are possible, but I’m going to need to nitpick on the reasoning. I suspect people who formed these theories don’t know how the mafia works or at least, attempt to understand how it works (not that I’m an expert, I’m still trying to understand it from mafia movies, videos, a book and journal papers).

Of course there is a discrepancy between the actual mafia and what is depicted in media, but given that Togashi had mafia themes in his previous works like in Ten de Showaru Cupid and in Yu Yu Hakusho, and until now, he is using mafia families in his current arc.

“Oh, but what if Togashi doesn’t do his research?”

I genuinely think he does. York New City and the Ten Dons could be a parallel to the actual Five Powerful Mafia Families in New York City back then, formed in 1931. The Five Families is also what inspired the five mafia families in The Godfather. (I don’t know, maybe Togashi was a fan of The Godfather or any mafia movies; that trilogy was very influential in the media). Even the family name Nostrade is both a reference to Nostradamus (a French fortune teller) and La Cosa Nostra (a nickname for the Italian mafia). The coincidence is too uncanny.

From what I gather from resources, the mafia functions like an organisation/corporation, but their services are largely illegal. Their main aim is to acquire money (and also power, but power comes with money).

Neon’s fortune-telling ability is highly sought after because accurate information in many places (which includes being in businesses) are crucial. If you guys are familiar with The Godfather, information and strategy is important when trying to win over people or crushing your enemies. The concept of knowing your enemy is also a huge main idea in Sun Tzu’s The Art of War.

And it’s even more valuable when these information is from the future. You will always be one step ahead of the enemy if you have accurate information in regards to the future.

Now, there are people envious of Light’s climb to power because he exploited his daughter’s fortune-telling ability and they gained influence as she has fans among the Dons. They see Light’s acquiring of power as a threat, which is why Light protects his daughter.

Another reason (not really stated, I just thought of it) is that information from the future is a disadvantage when your enemy has it and you don’t. You already lose when the other side has information that you do not have.

By the end of the YorkNew City arc, we see that the Ten Dons are assassinated by Illumi. Therefore, there seems to be empty seats when it comes to the leadership of the mafia community. Not stated, but without leadership, a corporation/business will either crumble or someone else will assume leadership. Be it brutally or by succession of an heir, we’ll never know.

Neon’s ability is no longer on hers. Who is affected negatively? Light Nostrade because he just lost his way of influence and attaining money/power. His enemies, who are envious of his climbing up the ranks, will see it as an advantage. A blessing perhaps. Because the threat (which is Neon’s powers) are gone.

While murder among mafia members are not uncommon, killing one’s family member (especially one’s direct children) is irreversible and poses serious consequences. An all out war could evoke and it can be costly. Going back to my point about the mafia community’s main aim and how it functions as a business, negotiations are actually another way to deal with possible disputes. They do not need to do the killing because her powers are simply GONE. Without her powers, she’s just an ordinary “citizen” who is a family member of a father whose in the mafia community.

Therefore, “mafia community killed Neon” theory is flawed if you look at how the mafia community functions as businesses and negotiations. The reason why they decided to be brutal and aggressive in York New City is because they were up against the Phantom Troupe. Additionally, the lack of manpower and leadership that follows after their fiasco with the Phantom Troupe is another concern. A girl who no longer poses a threat is the least of their worries.

Now, onto the “Kurapika let them die off”, “Light killed Neon” and “she committed suicide” theories.

The reason why I have a problem with these is because it’s based on the big assumption that they became broke. Either Light Nostrade went crazy and he killed her; or they became broke and Neon couldn’t handle the stresses of being poor so she committed suicide. But the thing is, they aren’t broke.

Even on the Hunterpedia states:

The Nostrade Family survived the loss of Neon's ability and is now led by Kurapika. The organization is exclusively involved in legal activities such as personal security details and gambling.

This is backed by what Linssen has said to Mizaistom in the Dark Continent Expedition arc.

The reason why they survived the financial slump? Kurapika.

During the Greed Island arc, Kurapika reassured him that he’ll “take care of it”. And during the Dark Continent Expedition arc, we see that Kurapika’s title is “Nostrade Family Waka-gashira”. Waka-gashira means “Young Boss”. There are many mistranslations to this text where they state that he’s the mafia organisation leader, but in the hardcopy (which I have), the title is “Nostrade Family Boss”.

In the context of the Japanese yakuza, the Waka-gashira is the second in command, just below the Oyabun.

The second in the chain of command is the wakagashira, who governs several gangs in a region with the help of a fuku-honbucho who is himself responsible for several gangs.

While it seems that the inspiration of mafia is from the Italian-American mafia families in York New City, the terminologies they used is that of the Japanese yakuza. I think that this is because the original language is in Japanese.

In Italian-American mafia, the term “mafia organisation” is synonymous with “mafia family”. Therefore, if you say that a man is the mafia organisation leader, he is also by default the head of the mafia family.

In the context of Kurapika, it does make sense that he is the second-in-command and Light is the oyabun (if you go by the yakuza terminology), or Kurapika is the head of the Nostrade family (if you go by the Italian-American way).

Now, I’m just going to backtrack a bit because I want to address that theory that “Kurapika let Neon and/or Light die and overtook the Nostrade mafia organisation”.

If you go by the Yakuza terminology, it already doesn’t make sense because it implies that Light is still in charge, and Kurapika is the second-in-command (wakagashira). The Yakuza also assimilate members into the mafia organisation and “making your own family” (via trust).

If you go by the Italian-American way, it also doesn’t make sense if you look at the way they appoint the head of the mafia organisation. From what I read and seen in mafia movies, aside from mafia organisations functioning like a corporation, it functions like a family business, where typically, the head of the family is a male. This isn’t just exclusive to mafia families, but pretty much family businesses in [East] Asia. Togashi also depicts this male heir and family business dynamic within the Zoldyck Family.

While there are actual records of women leading mafia organisations, what is depicted in media is that the mafia community are often populated with men. This is also evident in the York New City arc, where the mafia community is filled with armed men.

Even among the Yakuza, it is like this:

The Yakuza is populated almost entirely by men and the very few women who are acknowledged are the wives of bosses

Light Nostrade only have one child, a daughter to be exact. While Morena Prudo is the boss of the Heil-Ly Mafia Family, this isn’t the actual case for Neon. Neon is a young girl who likes to shop and collects dead body parts. She enjoys luxury and materialism. She doesn’t have an interest in the mafia business or where the money comes from. Besides, as mentioned before, a male heir is often depicted.

In Japanese family businesses, when there is no male heir available, they will have to resort to mukoyoshi practice. Taken from Wikipedia:

When a family, especially one with a well established business, has no male heir but has an unwed daughter of a suitable age, she will marry the mukoyōshi, a man chosen especially for his ability to run the family business.

This is done to preserve the business and name of the family when there is no suitable male heir, since traditionally businesses are inherited by the oldest male heir. Mukoyōshi is also practiced if there is no capable male heir to run the family business.

This is a centuries-old tradition and is still widely practiced today. Many Japanese companies with household names such as Nintendo, Kikkoman, and Toyota have adopted this practice.

This is why I often liked the whole “Kurapika married Neon for the title” theory because it takes into a Japanese practice when it comes to family businesses + how the mafia family business are run into account.

We also have to note that Neon Nostrade’s character blueprint is Princess Luna from Level E. Princess Luna is betrothed to the main character, Prince Baka. Initially, Prince Baka did not want to marry her. Arranged marriages do not need to be founded by love or a relationship bond. In fact, arranged marriages are often agreed on because of practical reasons, such as a family business.

Princess Luna is also why I take the marriage theory more into account, rather than the idea that Ligth adopted him. Kurapika is considered as an adult (or nearly) anyway.

Side note: Whether or not you agree with this because it seems sexist or the possible sickening idea that Kurapika married a flesh collector, is irrelevant. Me being a KuraNeon shipper also does not make this theory hold any less weight. In fact, I started liking them together because of this theory. This is based on how [mafia] family businesses are depicted in the media, the mukoyoshi practice in Japan and Princess Luna being Neon’s character blueprint. Remember that theories are based on evidence, not based on how you feel. If anything, this gives more depth to Kurapika because it shows how far he’s willing to go through in order to gain power and money for his clan.

Regardless of how Kurapika had gotten this title, it is via assimilation. Not coercion or force.

It also doesn’t make sense if he were to function businesses under the Nostrade family name, if he disliked Light and Neon so much that he’d let them wither off. Why would he still keep their family name in honour if he had let them die off? The answer is getting the title via assimilation. Be it through trust or becoming a member of the family (literally or figuratively).

Neon being uninterested also meant that there is no one to challenge Kurapika for the title, and Kurapika had already reassured to Light that the business during Greed Island arc.

Therefore, the “Kurapika had let Light and Neon wither off to get the title” is flawed when you look at the way mafia organisations functions as a family business and Neon’s character.

Why the Nostrades aren’t broke

Linssen stating the Nostrade family gains its income from gambling and personal security detail businesses that the Nostrade family runs, thanks to Kurapika being the head of the family.

Aside from that, we also see Kurapika obtaining many sets of Scarlet Eyes, with him stating that there are various ways he had done so.

“I’ve threatened, coaxed and paid people off” - Kurapika (based on the hardcopy Volume 33 that I have)

During the York New City arc, one set of Scarlet Eyes are already worth like what, millions? Not only money, but Kurapika needs influence and connections to gain these Scarlet Eyes. Threatening and coaxing meant that you’ll need to invoke fear or drive them into situations where they are forced to surrender the Scarlet Eyes. How to do that? Creating dilemmas. Give the person two options, both that are undesirable, with the lesser evil option being the one you want.

Basically, giving an offer they can’t refuse (sorry, this reference was too good to pass up lmao).

This is why being part of the mafia, and more so being a mafia leader is an attractive pathway for Kurapika because it gives him the resources, in terms of influence, finance and aggressive force.

Another thing to note is that Kurapika has hired Izunavi, Melody, Basho and Bisky to apply for the Kakin Bodyguarding contract. It’s evident that Kurapika has the money. Therefore, the Nostrades aren’t broke.

Hence, the idea that Neon was killed because her father could not face financial difficulties or that she committed suicide because she’s no longer rich, falls flat when you consider Kurapika’s involvement with their family.

“But didn’t Linssen say that gambling and personal security are legal businesses and he told Mizaistom that they are not the crime syndicate? Why is it part of the mafia?”

Yes. You see, the mafia deals with LARGELY illegal businesses, but that doesn’t mean they don’t deal with the legal ones too. Perhaps the Nostrade family has been legitimised, but it wouldn’t be the case because Kurapika’s title still states “mafia”.

While these facts seem to contradict what Linssen claimed to Mizaistom that the Nostrade organisation is not a crime syndicate, it can be argued that Mizaistom is a Crime Hunter (aka like a detective). It makes sense for Linssen to tell a Crime Hunter that you are not a crook, and it’s easier to lie about it if your services in the mafia business is legal.

Also, in actual mafia businesses where gambling is involved, the place of the server where online gambling may be legal, but in the place where the people use the online gambling may be illegal.

Taken from 10 Businesses Supposedly Controlled by the Mafia:

But mobsters have adapted to the times and taken their act online. These days, they are more likely to be busted for online sports gambling. In 2008, a Queens district attorney charged the Gambino family with illegal sports and casino-style gambling operations. Players were allowed to borrow gambling money at 200 percent interest [source: Bonner]. More recently, members of the Genovese family in New Jersey were indicted for making millions of dollars each year through illegal gambling operations [source: Ivers].

In Europe, officials have raised concerns over the vast amounts of money being laundered by the Mafia through online gambling, particularly sites based in Germany, where there are no penalties for illegal gambling activities [source: Walther].

Personal security details kind of vague, but I believe it’s Protection Racket. I went to have a look at Wikipedia for a short while and found ties with the mafia:

A protection racket is a scheme where a potentially hazardous group guarantees protection from violence, looting, raiding, piracy, and other such threats posed by them outside the sanction of the law, to polities, businesses, individuals, or other entities and groups that pay to them in cash or kind.

Protection rackets tend to appear in markets in which the police and judiciary cannot be counted on to provide legal protection, because of incompetence (as in weak or failed states) or illegality (black markets).

Certain scholars, such as Diego Gambetta, classify criminal organizations engaged in protection racketeering as "mafia", as the racket is popular with both the Sicilian Mafia and Italian-American Mafia.

While this “personal security details” the Nostrade family business provides, the stuff that involves in it may be illegal.

We don’t really know why Kurapika resorted to these two types of businesses. I have two guesses: 1) He wants to compensate and retain his moral values, therefore he opts for legal businesses, 2) He wants to have a loophole in being in the mafia yet avoiding legal troubles. Either way, it’s a smart move for Kurapika in my opinion.

Side note: With Togashi liking mafia themes so much, I truly believe that it’s a hard opportunity for him to pass up the idea of making one of his main characters a mafia leader. We get to have our own Michael Corleone, and that’s hot. (Simping hard for mafia boss Kurapika right now).

What about the Kakin Bodyguard thing? And the fact that Kurapika’s a Zodiac now? Does this mean he’s no longer the Nostrade Family Boss?

He is still the Nostrade family boss. These three are not mutually exclusive.

In the manga panel where they showed his title, it was slightly after the Zodiacs meeting. Therefore, he still retains his title as the Nostrade Boss. Being part of the Zodiac is a position within the Hunters Assocation, they are the counsellors to the Chairman. Just as when Kurapika is a hunter and the Nostrade Boss at the same time, he can also be a Zodiac and the Nostrade Boss.

The Kakin Bodyguard thing is like an employment contract. As mentioned, Kurapika hired a few people to apply for being a bodyguard because six Kakin Princes were looking for bodyguards to get close to the 4th Prince Tserriednich. You can actually see this as a link to his “Protection Racket” mafia business. Being a Kakin bodyguard is a type of Protection Racket. Therefore, he can still be a Kakin bodyguard while holding onto the mafia title.

Kurapika doesn’t need to be in the mainland overseeing everything in the business, in fact, it’s kind of noteworthy that Linssen was not on board - it is definitely possible that he had left the other parts of the mafia business to a second-in-command (a consigliere, shategashira, or the saiko-komon). He may also leave the businesses back to Light Nostrade.

Okay, what if Neon committed suicide because she couldn’t take how she’s being mistreated, rather than her being broke?

That could be possible, but we don’t really have a clear hint of that. Yes, I can see some potential daddy issues because she’s no longer of use to her father and also the possibility that Light favours Kurapika more now and maybe even sold her off to Kurapika, but I don’t find any strong evidence of that. And we don’t actually exactly know how Kurapika will act around her now that he seems to have more power than her. In fact, we don’t really have any insights as to what Kurapika thinks of her, only sweeping statements when it comes to flesh collectors which may or may not apply to her.

(I know people assume that he hates her, because they like to infer his prejudice on flesh collectors to her, but we really have ZERO clear indication of what he thinks about her specifically. To say that he definitely hates her is inaccurate. I literally just argued with someone on Youtube comments for this. And even if he did hate her, that’s hot if she’s his wife because hate-sex is wow.)

To Conclude:

The theories surrounding Neon Nostrade being dead falls flat when you look deeper into how the mafia functions. I have also explained more in detail at a possibility of how Kurapika might function in the mafia community and as the Nostrade family leader.

Other sources aside from above (so that ya’all know I don’t pull this out of my ass):

New York Mafia Families

What does the mafia even do anymore?

How to Make an Offer they can’t refuse like Vito Corleone

The Godfather by Mario Putzo [film/fictional book - watched Part 1 and 2]

Five Families: The Rise, Decline, and Resurgence of America's Most Powerful Mafia Empires By Selwyn Raab [book - only read a bit]

When culture matters: succession challenges for Asian business families

Behind the Yakuza: documenting the women of Japan’s mafia

How Japan’s family businesses use sons-in-law to bring in new blood

Pretty much the whole of Hunterpedia LMAO.

I only wanted to post the Chinese blog but ended up a huge full-on essay about the mafia in HxH HAHHAA. (Because I’m so sick of people talking about theories without taking the mafia structure into consideration).

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nelapanela94 · 3 years

Text

Warnings: Mentions of a degenerative disease, angst, fluff, character dead

LevixFem!Y/N

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When you met Levi for the first time when he joined the Survey Corps you were certain that the stoic, ill-mannered raven-haired was going to be yours. With your joyful and caring personality, you were quite popular among your male peers; however, you only had eyes for one man.

Despite Levi’s efforts to suppress his feelings, he realized he had fallen hard for you. He would helplessly stutter when he talked with you and his gaze would unconsciously follow you whenever you were around. Your laughter would bright up a shitty day, and it irked him when another man made you laugh. Indeed, Levi wanted to confess, but was afraid to screw it up. It wasn’t a scenario he was prepared for.

He was utterly doomed.

Nonetheless, the universe conspired in his favor the day you went straight to his office, opened the door without knocking and firmly approached the ravenette who was busy with paperwork. He didn’t even have time to complain at your intrusion because his lips were already prisoners of yours. Levi was left dumbfounded, his eyes widely opened, his entire face flustered, and he was doubtless his heart was about to explode.

He instinctively cupped your face in his hands and deepened the kiss as all the tension drifted away from his shoulders. Your lips moved slowly and clumsily first, but didn’t take long to adjust to the perfect rhythm. Your heart pounded in your chest and your trembling knees were about to give up. You could not focus in anything, but on how soft his lips felt against yours. You had found a new addiction.

You finally broke the kiss and stared at each other in the eye. “What the…” Levi was still processing what just had happened.

“I wasn’t going to be left with the desire” you said between soft pants. Then an awkward silence filled the room, Levi tugged at the collar of his shirt, while you bit your lower lip. “Well...” you pursed your lips in a thin line.

“Stop b...by after dinner. I’ll make t…tea for both of us, I... got this new blend from the capital…” he stammered, his eyes darted towards the window.

“I’ll get the biscuits” you proposed while inspecting your nails.

“Great”

“Great. Uh, my squad is gathering soon… see you then” you waved your hand and left his office.

You and Levi had been together ever since then. Despite your tight working schedules, you’d always make time to see each other. You would steal kisses from him when no one was looking and leave love notes on his desk with the cheesiest messages you came up with. They were a treasure for him and kept every single one in one of his drawers. Levi, on the other hand, demonstrated his love through acts of service, like brewing tea for you, making sure you had had breakfast every morning, or having your clothes washed, folded and put away. Since words were not his forte, he showed his affection in his own way.

Everything seemed perfect until one night you abruptly woke up covered in cold sweat, your nose was bleeding too. Levi sat up and lit an oil lamp to get a better look. He alarmed when he spotted your lips, chin and hands already stained in the crimson liquid. “Are you alright?” He placed his hand on your cheek and swiped away your tears with his thumb.

“Yeah” you sniffled. “It must be just stress, I’m sorry for waking you up”

Levi planted a kiss on your forehead before getting off the bed. He came back from the bathroom with a damp cloth and cleaned the dry blood from your face and hands. He then changed the bed sheets as well as your stained night gown, and went back to bed, his hand caressing your hair until you fell asleep again.

Several days later a ticklish sensation manifested in your hands and feet, but you shrugged it off claiming it was anxiety for the upcoming expeditions. Nevertheless, the tingling feeling became more recurrent, and spread to your arms and legs. Then came the numbness that engulfed your limbs and the declined in your grip strength that hindered your performance, and put your life in great danger during one of the expeditions. Levi grew tired of your shitty excuses and forced you to go see a doctor, since Hange and Moblit couldn’t find a cause for the unusual signs.

But nothing had prepared you for the news you were about to received. According to the doctor, you suffered from a brain degenerative disease that didn’t have a cure, nor a known root cause; and the worst part: your symptoms would aggravate with time.

“He must be overreacting” you weakly smiled when you left the doctor’s office. “It can’t be that bad” you knew it was, though. Remembrances of your early childhood came back. You’d never understood why your mother was left disabled and bedridden for so long before passing away until that moment; and the doctor’s words had confirmed your greatest fear: you had inherited the same illness that had taken your mother’s life.

Little by little, you went from trembling to limping to nearly lost the mobility of your lower body. The muscle mass you had gained through the years of military training was vanishing, and the pain had become unbearable, not even the strongest medication brought relief.

Now, you were lying in bed with Levi, resting your head on his chest and having your legs intertwined with his, while he pressed soft kisses on your head.

“Levi” you muttered. “Forgive my selfishness. Sometimes I wish I was death” He scowled at your words and lifted his head. “Oi, don’t say that” His gaze saddened when he glanced at your glistening eyes.

“You know it’d be better for both of us. I won’t be in pain anymore and you won’t have to deal with this burden”

“Stop it, I don’t wanna hear it” He clenched his fist and took a deep breath to restrain his tears. “I can’t lose you, (name). I might be the selfish one, but I don’t know what I’d do without you”

You chuckled.

“What? I didn’t say anything funny”

You shook your head. “I just remembered the day I told you I wanted you to be the father of my kids. You almost choke on your tea” you giggled.

“Yeah, pretty funny...” He remarked sarcastically.

“They’ve would’ve been so cute, you know, with your hair and eyes” you sighed. “Isn’t it a cruel joke of the universe to lead me to you and not let us age together?”

“Hey...” His eyes filled with tears. “You’re talking like you’ve already given up”

“I’m just tired”

Yes. You were tired of everything. You couldn’t stand the pain, the useless medication, the pity stares. You were tired of being a burden to your friends, and mainly to Levi.

“Get some sleep, I’ll bake your favorite cookies tomorrow morning”

“That sounds good”

“They’re not as good as yours, though”

“No one can beat my recipe”

“Cocky, aren’t we?”

You chuckled. “Can we have chai tea with the cookies?”

“Chai tea will be”

You closed your eyes and the corners of your mouth lifted. Levi’s beating heart was steady and relaxing. “I love you, Levi”

“I love you too, (name)” He waited for you to fall asleep before he succumbed to slumber. His poor sleeping habits eased when you were lying by his side; you had become his shelter, the light of his eyes and the only person he had fully opened his heart to.

Levi woke up first the following morning with you peacefully asleep, your head buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his torso. Too peacefully asleep, indeed. “(name)” he whispered, but didn’t get any response, not even a whine nor your usual 5 more minutes, please. He uncovered your upper body and carefully unwrapped your arm off of him. A hard object hidden under the covers got his attention. He found it and examined the small container.

His eyes went wide as a sharp pain pierced through his heart when he read the label.

His jaw quivered and tears streamed down his face.

His world was shattering around him.

It was the most recent medication prescribed by your doctor.

It wasn’t even a week old and it was supposed to last a month.

But the flask was already empty.

#levi x y/n #levixreader #levi aot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #sad ending

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 25 – Out of Time

Chapter 1 Chapter 24

Dick woke up to a far too early knocking, more like pounding, on his door. He and Jim Gordon had been up half the night talking about the corruption in the police force and whether Dick should join, before deciding he could make a difference if he did. He would be able to help Jim slowly weed out the corruption if he was working with him from the inside. They’d even filled out all his applications for the Police Academy, starting in a month. He would have to be away from Marinette and the twins during the day, but he would be able to come home to them every night. If she let him. And she would know where he was.

But all that talk meant he had only gotten a few hours of sleep last night and he was dead tired this morning. He really just wanted to go back to sleep, but the pounding on the door continued unabated. He groaned and made his way to the door. “Answer your damn phone, asshole,” Jason growled at him, pushing past him to look around the room. “We’re fucking thrilled if you and Pixie got back together, but let us know you both aren’t dead.”

Dick shook his head and scrunched his face in confusion. “That we’re what? I haven’t gotten to talk with Marinette yet. I’m hoping that’s how it will go, but I think that’s probably overly optimistic.”

Jason’s expression turned in an instant from annoyed to scared. It was not a look he was used to seeing on Jason’s face. Jason never got scared, or if he did, he never showed it. “Pixie is here, right?” he asked again, enunciating each word clearly. “She’s with you.”

“No… I just woke up. I was talking with Commissioner Gordon all night. Why would you think she was with me?” Dick shook his head again, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Had Marinette planned on meeting him here? Maybe she came back and fell asleep. He ran to her bedroom to check, but the room was exactly as it had been for the past few weeks. No sign of Marinette. He returned to the living room and shook his head.

“Shit!” Jason looked around desperately.

“Tell me what is going on right now. Why did you think Marinette was with me?” Dick asked carefully. His breathing became strained. This isn’t the way this was supposed to go. He had saved her. He had stopped the Court of Owls. He stopped their plot. She was safe.

Jason pulled out his phone and called Tim, talking as he did, without bothering to acknowledge Tim when he answered and putting him on speaker as soon as he did. “She’s missed all her appointments today. Adrien said she said she was going to talk with you today. She isn’t in Adrien’s apartment or Wayne Enterprises. Her phone is in her studio, but she isn’t,” Jason answered slowly, eyes darting around as if calculating something. “We figured she must be here.”

“We didn’t set the time yet. I haven’t heard from her. When was the last time someone saw her?” Dick asked frantically, running to his bedroom to start getting dressed.

“I’m going to start going through security footage around Adrien’s apartment and her studio,” Tim reported.

Jason’s phone started flashing with another call. “Patching Adrien into the call too,” he informed them and pushed a few buttons to enable it. “Adrien, tell me you have something.”

Adrien’s voice hesitated for a moment. Dick and Jason shared an apprehensive look. “I have something, but it’s bad… Someone told me you’d know how to get in contact with Batman?”

Jason froze and looked up at Dick with a panicked expression. There was no way that was good. “I think we might have a way to contact Batman, why?”

“I know where she is, but we’re going to need Batman and his team to get her back.” There was barely a quiver to Adrien’s voice as he spoke, but years of training made it come across as clear as glass to the others on the call.

“Where is she?” Dick yelled into the phone.

“Dick? They don’t have you? That’s good… I guess. It means they only wanted her… Actually, no, wait, maybe that’s worse,” Adrien prattled.

“Who is they?” Dick demanded.

“Some people with owl masks.” There was a hedge in his voice as though he didn’t think they would believe him.

Dick stopped breathing. The Court had taken Marinette. No, no, no, no. He had stopped them. He had made sure Marinette was safe. He had protected her from them. That’s what the past few months of hell had all been about.

“You can get ahold of Batman, right?” Adrien asked again, in a more strained voice. “I know someone who’d like to talk to him.”

Jason furrowed his brow and looked to Dick to see if he had any ideas. “Who?”

“Chat Noir.”

Jason looked at Dick communicating their intentions and agreement through minute body quirks and purposeful looks. “We can get ahold of someone. We will make sure someone is on the top of the Wayne Enterprises building in half an hour. Is that enough time for him?”

“He’ll be there,” Adrien confirmed confidently.

Jason cut Adrien’s connection and glared at the floor in thought. “Why would they want Marinette?”

“The plot you stopped was all about the power grid, wasn’t it?” Tim interjected. “Trying to run up prices for some of their members who owned supply and power companies?”

“Yeah…” Dick answered uncertainly.

“Then there was no reason for them to be at the Stone concert, right? Those execs were from Netflix, no way associated with this,” Tim elaborated.

Dick drew in a deep breath and cursed. “They were there watching Marinette. They were planning this all along. They wanted Marinette from the beginning. Why?”

“Everyone go get suited up. Get there as soon as possible. I’ll text the others,” Jason stated, moving quickly toward the door so he could get to his apartment.

<><><><><>

Batman, Red Robin, Signal, and Red Hood made it to the rooftop with time to spare, since they were already close to their costumes. Nightwing, Black Bat, Spoiler, and Robin had further to go to get to their costumes and had to trickle into the meeting, but they kept track of the conversation through the coms until they could be there in person.

“Chat Noir.” Batman stepped forward and nodded.

“Batman. Bats and Birds.” Chat Noir nodded to Batman and the rest of the bats. “I was thinking there would be more.”

“They’re on their way but listening in,” Batman assured him briskly. “Let’s start with how do you know where she is?”

Chat looked over to the edge of the building at the sound of two sets of boots landing, he continued to speak as he silently acknowledged Nightwing and Robin. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on Marinette since the pharmacy incident. You might say I’ve had a catbug on her… with her permission of course. She sent the scout to find me when she thought they were in her final location. They didn’t seem interested in immediately harming her or the scout would have stayed. We have time, I just don’t know how much.”

“Do you know how she was taken?” Batman asked.

Chat nodded, annoyance settling in his expression as he did. “A couple men dressed as cops approached her at her studio and said something happened to Dick, her boyfriend… kind of… it’s complicated. She went with them. By the time she figured out they were not headed to the hospital, there was a knife digging into her bump.”

“Any ideas on why they took Pi… her?” Red Hood broke in.

“They said something about a Grayson, so I have to imagine it’s to get at Dick Grayson, the babies’ father, for some reason or to get her twins perhaps for ransom. I don’t suppose you have any ideas why they would want to get back at Dick, would you? Is he a member? Did he double cross them?” Chat mused.

“What?” Nightwing exclaimed. “No!”

“Well…” Spoiler hedged as she and Black Bat landed.

“Dick Grayson didn’t do anything to them,” Nightwing gritted out.

Chat Noir studied Nightwing carefully then suddenly whipped his head over to Red Hood, running his eyes over him in a calculated manner and moving quickly to do the same to Red Robin. “Fuck. That’s why he said you guys would know how to get in contact with Batman. That’s why you’ve been disappearing.” He stuck an accusatory finger in Nightwing’s direction. “Why the fuck didn’t you just tell her that, you fucking dumbass!”

“See! Even the catman agrees.” Red Hood exclaimed.

“She wasn’t supposed to get stressed and I didn’t want her knowing I was putting my life in danger every night, constantly,” Nightwing attempted to defend himself, but even to himself, his voice sounded unsure.

“She put up with me for years. She is perhaps the world’s foremost expert in dealing with idiots who constantly put their lives in danger,” Chat exclaimed exasperated. He had to have known that. Marinette had talked to him about how frustrated she had gotten with Chat. Hell, he was there for some of those conversations with Dick, while she glared at Chat the whole time.

“You think memories of that didn’t add stress?” Nightwing exploded, stalking slowly toward Chat as he spoke. “She still has nightmares about it. And pregnancy hormones make nightmares even more realistic. You weren’t there almost every night when she woke up crying because she saw you sacrificing yourself in new ways or when she dreamt it was me instead of you. And the last one she had before our fight… She sobbed almost nonstop for almost an hour. I was terrified for her.”

“And you weren’t there when she was sobbing because you said you loved her then ran away like she didn’t matter,” Adrien returned just as angrily, standing his ground against Nightwing. “Or when she broke down because she couldn’t trust you anymore. Because you spent months lying to her. Not because you had a secret. Secrets she understands, intimately. Because she trusted you and you lied and without an explanation, she had to assume you lied about everything.”

“I was protecting her from the Court of Owls,” Dick yelled.

“So that’s what the cult is called? Bang up job, there.” Chat growled back. He moved away to collect his thoughts and deescalate the situation. Fighting now wouldn’t help Marinette. They needed to work together to rescue her. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead like he was trying to ward off a migraine. “She owes me a hundred euros for this. So, what’s these guys’ deal? Do they know who you are or are they asking for ransom?”

“We don’t think they know who he is, but ransom isn’t really their deal either,” Red Robin answered.

“Why would they want her otherwise?” Signal asked.

Chat opened his mouth a few times before cocking his head to the side and furrowing his brow and grimacing as if trying to figure out how to say what he was thinking. “Could they know about… her association with the Paris heroes?”

“What exactly is her association with them?” Batman asked

Chat opened his mouth and closed it quickly. “That sounds like a question for Marinette.”

“Well she isn’t fucking here is she?” Red Hood pointed out curtly.

“Close. Very close,” he answered carefully.

“Clearly,” Spoiler huffed motioning to Chat.

“Closer than that.” He grimaced. He was definitely skirting the line of flat out telling her secrets, but if it saved her babies, he was sure she would be okay with it. He just wasn’t sure yet if it actually related at all. “But I don’t know how they could have found out. She hasn’t been around any costumed heroes in years.”

“And they said this was about Grayson,” Robin pointed out. “It is far more likely they know Grayson’s identity and this is punishment for stopping them.”

“If they’ve been tracking her since the concert, maybe earlier, it isn’t just about ruining their plans,” Red Robin clarified.

“They were doing what?” Chat’s head whipped around to look at him.

“I saw a talon at the Stone concert. That’s why I disappeared. I was investigating,” Nighwing explained distractedly. “We can figure out the reason later. Let’s focus on freeing her, making sure she’s okay. You said you know where she is. She’s probably terrified, and she doesn’t need more nightmares.”

“Yeah, she’s being held under here,” he pushed a few buttons on his baton and sent the location to the Bats.

“How did you do that?” Signal asked with amazement in his voice.

“Magic,” Chat answered, flaring out his fingers.

“So what’s the plan?” Stephanie asked.

“Oracle do you have the building layout?” Batman asked into the coms.

“I’m having trouble getting in. It looks like they have several layers of security and self-contained power. It might take me a bit,” Oracle responded.

“We wait to see if we can get insight into the building then create the plan. Our tech person is having difficulty getting in,” Batman stated so Chat could hear.

Chat nodded and teetered back and forth from his toes to his heels, anxiety ramping up in the silence. “So, any tips or tricks I should know before fighting these guys, if that’s what’s happening?”

“The guys with glowing yellow eyes are highly trained. The rest will try to kill you, but they’re like drunken toddlers, it’s the yellow eyed bastards you have to watch out for,” Red Hood answered as he leaned against the half-wall running along the edge of the building.

“They’re not drunken toddlers. They’re dangerous too,” Batman emphasized affronted. He’d fought those guys in a group. They had almost overpowered him.

“Okay fine,” Red Hood waved him off, “but not like the talons.”

“Any weaknesses for those yellow eyed talon guys?” Chat asked apprehensively.

“Not really. They’re highly trained, highly skilled, superhuman speed, superhuman healing,’ Nightwing answered.

“Fuck,” Chat answered with a whistle.

“Appropriate response,” Red Robin nodded.

“They need a substance to keep healing,” Batman corrected.

“So if we injure enough of them they won’t have enough substance for everyone?” Chat offered.

“Not the route I want to go, but yeah,” Signal agreed.

“And cold. They’re susceptible to cold,” Batman added.

“Cold?” Chat clarified, suddenly listening very intently.

“Yeah, it interferes with their healing,” Red Hood explained. “Makes it so their injuries stick.”

“So if we could make it freezing cold down there…” Chat trailed off.

“Doesn’t have to be the whole place, just where the talons are,” Red Robin mused out loud. “There likely won’t be many, if any. They can’t be expecting us yet. They were too careful. If it wasn’t for Chat’s scout, we’d have no idea. But yes, if you can make them cold, we’d have a better chance.”

Chat stopped and looked contemplative for a few moments. “Let me make a quick call.” He turned around and walked a few steps away. After a few minutes he returned. “Snowflake will be here in 35 minutes.”

“The ice chick from New York?” Red Hood asked.

Chat nodded in response. Damian eyed him suspiciously. “That’s awfully quick.”

“She’s going to catch a ride with Uncanny Valley and Uncanny will be able to hack into their security as soon as she gets here. She just has to be close. We can get the plans from her and break into their security system.”

“How can she do that? No offense to your friend, but if Oracle can’t do it, it’s unlikely anybody else would be able to so quickly,” Red Robin asked.

“Thank you,” Oracle cut in.

“Uhhh… magic?” Chat offered with less enthusiasm than before.

“Let’s move to a closer position while we wait. We’ll come up with a plan once we have more information,” Batman said already taking out his grappling hook. “We have family to save.”

Chapter 26

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - time

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 3 years

Text

Imagine yourself spending the first nine years of your life as a slave, with only your mother to guide you. Imagine being owned by another person, imagine being fatherless, struggling to get by in an unforgiving desert working for scraps. Imagine there’s a chip inplanted in your neck, in your mother’s neck, that will go off and blow you up if you run. Imagine living with that threat hanging over you, just one misstep and you or your mother will be doomed. Even when you find a way out, and are freed, she must remain. So, you vow to free her.

Imagine finally being taken away from that place, from your mother and the only comfort you know. Imagine being placed before a harsh, judgmental religious order and told that despite this one male stranger’s conviction that you are special enough to be a part of their convention, you don’t suffice. They condemn you, tell you you're not good enough, and you believe them. Then this man, whom you have begun to latch onto for lack of paternal idols dies suddenly and brutally. The boy he trained, who you clash more often with than not, is instead vowing to take you in.

Imagine meeting a girl with whom you are immediately besotted, imagine memorizing her beautiful face for years despite not seeing her again for a decade. Imagine you trying too hard to make her feel the same, imagine the guilt as you know you’re not supposed to fall in love. You’re not supposed to have emotional attachments, you’re not supposed to break your code. Imagine the desire to be with this woman of your dreams, imagine yourself knowingly breaking your rules simply to be with her. Imagine the rush of her feeling the same, imagine the fear of the secret coming out as you marry her in a candid ceremony.

Imagine you having visions and nightmares of your mother dying, and being unable to rush to her aid. Imagine pleading with your mentor, the older brother that the man raising you has become, only for him to deny you the opportunity. Imagine the stress, the anxiety, the fear. Imagine yourself, yet again bending the rules to finally rescue her. Imagine the terror when you find out your visions were premonitory, as you learn your mother was captured under torture. Imagine you sneaking into the place where she’s being held captive, only for her to be so weak she dies in your arms. The woman who was your entire world for the first nine years of your life, whom you have not seen for a decade is gone. You promised to free her, and you failed.

Imagine yourself, blinded by rage and sorrow, seeing red as you slaughter the entire village responsible for her demise. Even the innocents are killed off, even the children.

Imagine yourself in a battle, your adversary intent on killing you. Imagine you being unfocused, furious, and out of your league. Imagine him sneering at you, jeering, mocking you. Imagine yourself aiming for his head, trying so hard to take him down. He’s already wounded your mentor, and you want revenge. Instead, he outmatches you with ease, twirling your weapon out of your hand and dismembersing you. As if it was naught but air, he has cut through and severed your right arm from your body. You are saved, but scarred and a grudge is growing within you. An urge to kill him, to punish him for embarrassing and decimating you.

Imagine yourself being nineteen years old, motherless, married, and thrown into war. Imagine yourself leading an army of men whom you become close to, who you are proud to call your brothers in arms. Imagine being forced to watch them die, imagine having all their lives on your conscience, imagine being expected to behave like a responsible adult. Then imagine being placed in the position of mentoring, and raising, a child of your own. Imagine having a fourteen year old girl dumped into your lap, to teach right and wrong when you’re still just a kid yourself. Imagine you being expected to act as a parental figure, imagine you being expected to be mature enough to make this girl turn out okay. Imagine you have to teach this child to lead squadrons as your war commander, imagine yourself forced to instruct her how to cope and deal with the losses of life when you can barely manage yourself.

Imagine trying so hard not to become attached, imagine sneaking around on your tiptoes not to expose your secret marriage. Imagine feeling like you always have to hide your true self to live up to expectations, and still never feeling like you’re enough. Imagine this older man who has been somewhat distantly watching over you entering your life, imagine him being kind, and understanding, and you begin to depend upon him. You share more with him than anyone else, perhaps even your wife. You view him as a role model, finally a fitting father figure to guide you through life. Imagine him gradually becoming all the more important to you, and your life.

Imagine your mentor, your brother within the convent betraying you. Imagine him feigning death, imagine him lying to your face on behalf of the schemes of your superiors. Imagine you, believing he’s dead, mourning the man who has despite any shortcomings become your best friend, your hero. Imagine you finding out he is not only alive, but he purposely let you believe he was dead because your emotional reaction was necessary to sell the hoax. Imagine realizing he played with your feelings, he used your weakness to his own benefit. Imagine yourself trying to justify it, but unable to dismiss the seeds of doubt that have been sawn.

Imagine the child, this girl you’ve been tasked with mentoring for two full years of war and death, this girl you have accepted as a younger sister, is suddenly suspected of carrying out a terrorist attack. Imagine how the entire religious group you’re a part of point their fingers at her. Imagine them turning against her one by one, even your brother stays silent on the matter. Imagine your despair, your discontent as she is expelled from the convent, from the only family she has ever known. Imagine yourself finally hunting down the actual culprit, only to find it’s somebody your sister considered a close friend. Imagine your rage, as you realize she too has been betrayed by people within the circle that was supposed to be a sanctuary.

Imagine your relief as you are told your sister is let back into the order, that you salvaged her status and cleared her name, only for her to walk away. Imagine knowing you did everything to prove her innocence, and still she leaves. Imagine yourself, and your already self internalized insecurities as she turns her back on you. Everyone always leaves you, everyone lies to you. Imagine blaming yourself, believing that had you only done better, she would have remained by your side. Imagine her disappearing without a trace, and when you finally do meet up with her again after what seems like an eternity, she shoots you down. She’s distant, and while she is only being professional, you take it as a sign that she has moved on. That you were never as important to her, as she was to you.

Imagine your father figure being kidnapped by the adversary who took your hand whom you have now targeted as an enemy, a nemesis of sorts. Imagine you coming to the rescue, goaded by the enemy as he professes you are worthless, you cannot harm him. Imagine yourself snapping, finding strength in your anger and your hatred towards this smug, snarling menace. To his shock, you best him. You pay him back, cutting off both his hands as retribution as you disarm him. He’s helpless, on his knees, and you know you should spare him. You have been taught to value compassion within the convent, your religion doubles down on it. But your father figure implores you to kill the nemesis. You falter, but your hands move. He repeats the request, and you give in, beheading the enemy. The unarmed, harmless old man whom you were supposed to take into captivity. Still, your father figures reassures you you did good.

Now, imagine those same prophetic visions you used to have of your mother’s death returning, only to target your wife. You already doubt the sister you raised, you already doubt your own mentor and brother. You can’t turn to your convent for help, as you’re still married in secrecy and to admit that would have you expelled. When you ask the religious leader for help in a cryptic manner, he blatantly tells you to let go, to let whomever you’re worried about fade. You learn that your wife is pregnant, and while it is worrisome, you’re also overjoyed. And frightened, seeing as your visions foretell your wife will die in childbirth.

You’re desperate, and as you share your fears with the only person you feel you can trust - your father figure - he begins to persuade you that the path you’re on is insufficient, if you want to save your wife and child. You begin to doubt the dogma you have been taught, the moral code that has been drilled into you, and you doubt everyone around you, even the wife you wish to save. Again and again, you are let down, as your convent requests you to spy on your father figure because of his politically powerful position. Imagine you knowing it’s against their religion, but you reluctantly agree as it’s your brother asking you to go through with it.

Imagine your father figure slowly but thoroughly beginning to shift your world view, insinuating that he has powers to save your wife. Imagine you buying into these suggestions, and even as you find out that he is a literal demonspawn - a murderer, a psychopath, a sadist, a monster - you hesitate to call him out. Imagine you desperate to do the right thing in sharing what you have learnt with your superiors at the convent, only for the one leader who trusts you the least to yet again ask you to stay behind rather than be helpful.

You are tormented, desperate and break down in tears as you contemplate whether keeping this dangerous man alive, the man you admired, to save your wife is worth it. You give in, because in the end, you are selfish and your wife means more to you than anything else. Her life is worth a thousand others. Hence, you rush to your father figure’s aid, at first trying to beg for his life, only to hear this supposedly saintly religious leader tell you it’s just to kill your father figure. Your father figure who appears weak, disarmed, on the brink of death. When you the leader moves in to finish the job and execute your father figure, you step in and you parttake in the murder of the superior whom you already disliked.

Disfigured by the struggle with the now dead religious figurehead, your father figure notes that you are full of guilt and regret, as he tells you you did good. He praises your actions, and tells you that as long as you follow his orders, and his dogma, he will help you save your wife. You accept the offer, and you know deep down that you have just taken a path you can never renege on. Your father figure asks you to murder in his name, to be his silent assassin. You are sent to purge the convent you were tutored in, ordered to kill everyone in sight as a religiously targeted genocide - spare no one. You act on autopilot, without autonomy. This is a job, and it’s necessary to save your wife. Nothing else matters, and you follow your orders. You kill everyone, even the children. You tell yourself death is a kinder fate than life within this sect, which you now think this religious order to be.

Imagine yourself reporting in, and being dispatched to kill again. You relent, but when the deed is done your, guilt and regret catches up with you. You realize you have become a murderer, a monster, the blood of the innocent soaking your hands. You realize that while perhaps you can justify the deaths of the problematic political leaders you’ve just slain as unavoidable, the children haunt you. You think of your wife, and your own child, and tell yourself even as you weep that this is for a good cause. Imagine knowing you spoke to your wife just after you murdered those children, assuring her everything will be alright, and now you have to reassure yourself that what you said wasn’t a lie.

Imagine your wife showing up out of nowhere, so close to the crime scene. Imagine her being shaken, panicking as she reveals your brother told her you have murdered children. Imagine you for some reason not understanding why that’s troubling her, when it was a necessary sacrifice to secure her survival. You admit to everything you have done, that whatever your brother told her, you did it for her. You tell her you refuse to watch her die, you refuse to lose her. Imagine her backing away from you in horror, and above all else, you feel enraged. She tells you she can’t believe you, she can’t stay with you anymore. She can’t accept you as you are. You are furious. You have broken every rule in the book, crossed every line imaginable, and she rejects you? You can’t accept it, and when you realize she has brought your brother with her - knowing he is intent on stopping you, whatever the cost - you refuse to believe her profession that she was unaware of his tagging along.

You see red, and you choke your wife. You choke her, even as she tearfully begs you to stop, as she tells you she loves you. You don’t listen, you can’t hear her words. You don’t trust her. Finally, you come to your senses and let her go. She crumbles to a heap, unconscious and you feel the weight of the blame, the guilt on your shoulders. Instead, you redirect the remorse towards your brother. You accuse him of being the root of all evil, the reason for all the atrocities you have committed. You make him into a figurehead for the sect, the cult you now believe to have brainwashed you. Imagine him telling you that he will kill you, if he needs to. Imagine you lunching at him, both of you fighting viciously. You want to see him dead, you want to punish him for all of your sins.

Imagine you coming to a stalemate, him offering one last warning. You disobey it, ignore it - and pay the price. He cuts off both your legs, and your remaining flesh arm. You shriek at him, and in that moment you loathe him with your entire being. You despise him, even as you use your only remaining limb, your prosthetic arm, to drag yourself towards him. Except you’re lying face down on pyring ashes, a lake of lava nipping at the exposed stumps of your legs. And in a second, you're set ablaze. It’s scorching, searing, agonizing as the flames eat away your clothes. Then your hair. Then your flesh; leaving gaping wounds in its wake as it devours you alive. You writhe, and moan, and try to plead as you reach towards your brother for salvation - for mercy. He just said he loved you, didn’t he? He still walks away, leaving you to burn. Leaving you for dead.

But you don’t die.

As if by some horrible, cruel twist of fate you live. Your father figure comes for you, he picks you up, he brings you back to a makeshift medical facility to patch you up. You are given no anesthesia, and as robotic aids perform the lifesaving surgery on your ailing body, you feel every single, agonizing rip, tear, cut and probe. They wrench mechanical prosthetics into the stumps of your limbs, into your severed nerve endings. They dress you in a harsh bodysuit that rubs your already sizzled skin raw. Wires and tubes are inserted into your chest, your throat, your stomach.

Eventually, the pain becomes too much but you remain conscious, remain in limbo. Finally, you receive a helmet to cover your face. It protects your scorched retinas, your charred esophagus with pressurized oxygen. Its lenses are red, and for the rest of your life, you will view the world around you through a crimson hue. You’re no longer breathing on your own. Something else is breathing for you, forcing your singed lungs to inhale and exhale rhythmically. You are strapped down, even as you are brought into a standing position to face your solemn father figure.

Then you remember how you ended up here. Your wife. Your everything, the woman you sold your soul to protect. She’s nowhere to be seen, and you find yourself both alarmed and confused through the haze of your pain. You speak, but the voice is not your own. You ask for her, shocked by the mechanism that now speaks for you and its brash, deep tone. You need to see her, even this hellish torment is worth it as long as you know she’s safe. As long as you know she made it out alive. You ask your father figure, but he reminds you of what you did to her. You hurt her, you choked her. You killed her, he says.

Just like that. She’s dead. She’s gone.

Despite everything you’ve done, every life you’ve taken, every crime you committed in her name. You wanted power, you wanted recognition, you wanted more - but not without her by your side. She’s lost. You will never see her again, you will never get to meet your child. You are trapped in a walking iron lung, a prison of your own making. You are scarred, warped, twisted, with countless lives on your conscience which you cannot write off as slights. You murdered your friends, your family, your convent - small children - in her name. When you finally could have had a future with her, you messed it up. You want to blame your brother, the religious order, the sister you raised, even your father figure.

But you can’t. It’s all on you.

You’re alone.

You have driven away everyone, you have killed the person who meant the most to you. You have nothing, you deserve nothing. You have poisoned and diminished what little joy you had to cling to. Imagine yourself, broken, battered, barely alive. Imagine yourself, now a murderer, a monster; a selfish, lost little boy who’s only just turned twenty two. Your life is in ruins, your wife is gone by your hand. Your child died with her. Your sister might as well have been executed, your brother left you to burn. You have fulfilled your own prophecy- You were the key to your wife’s demise, not her salvation. You are to blame, you are the reason, you did this. You can blame no one else. Only you.

You are Anakin Skywalker, and you will live with this knowledge for the rest of your life.

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

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White Lies (Pt. 16 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

Birth

Dr. Williams and two other nurses are the only ones here besides Keanu. You've been in agonizing pain for over an hour now, but it's finally time.

“You're completely dilated now.” Dr. Williams says from her place in between your legs. “You just have to push, alright? Can you do it?”

“No.” You cry, many tears staining your cheeks, hair attached to your face because of the sweat. The pain is too great, and you're conflicted by Keanu's presence. And you just can't. “I can't. I want a cesarian.” Pleading, you rest your back against the bed, hands covering your face.

“We can't perform a cesarian now.” Dr. Williams says. “(Y/N), you're ready. Your baby is coming and I get it that you're scared, but you're almost there. Just push.”

“I can't. I can't.” Voicing breaking, you feel as the sobs shake your body.

“(Y/N).” Keanu's voice reaches you, ripping through the chaos. Your eyes find him, standing away. But soon enough he comes closer, taking your hand. “You can do this, sweetheart. I know you can.”

Nodding, you close your eyes tight and push, biting back a groan as it feels like all strength is leaving your body. You can't faint now... You have no idea what would happen if you pass out.

“Good, (Y/N). Again.” Dr. Williams says, and so you do it.

“I can't.” Shoulders shaking, you squeeze Keanu's hand.

“I can see the head. A big push and it's over, (Y/N), c'mon.”

“One more,” Keanu repeats, moving to seat on the bed next to you. Nothing else matters now, and everything that happened is forgotten. You need him, so you just move, the best you can, your back against his chest as his free hand comes to grab your thigh, keeping your legs spread. “One more push and you'll meet Liam, sweetheart, you can do it.”

His voice brings you a new strength, and you turn your face to look at him, a hand finding its way to his face, pulling him closer so you can kiss him. Then, with your eyes still closed, you hold on to his biceps and push, with whatever strength still left inside you. You're almost giving up when a cry fills the hospital room, the pain surrenders, and Dr. Williams stands up straight, holding a tiny little human in her arms.

“Here he is.” She says, smiling. “I'll clean him up and I'll hand him over to you, alright?”

Still catching your breath, you nod, lying back down, colliding on Keanu's chest. The doctors do their stuff as you try to calm down after all this effort. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you never thought it would be this hard. “I can leave if you want.” He says, letting go of your thigh. There will be a bruise there, but you don't mind.

“No.” You're quick to answer, voice a little harsh. Part of you doesn't want to need him, to love him this much, but you do. The heart wants what it wants. It loves who it loves. “Stay to meet the baby.”

“Alright.”

It takes a few minutes until Dr. Williams brings Liam to you. He's wrapped around a pale blue blanket since Keanu remembered to bring your bag when he went to pick you up at the hotel. And he's absolutely beautiful, so light you barely feel him in your arms.

“Hi, baby.” You whisper, barely hearing your own voice. Slowly, you touch his forehead with your fingers, softly, as if he's made of glass. You can't control the tears rolling down, but they're from joy this time. You can't believe you're finally seeing him, face to face, after carrying him inside you for so long. He moves his mouth a little, and slowly, he opens his eyes, curiously looking around before blinking a few times. “It's mommy, little one. And...” The words get caught in your throat, your heart sinking a little. “...And daddy...” You push out because Dr. Williams said babies can recognize the parents' voice from the moment they're born, and the father's voice belongs to Keanu, and you know how much it hurts to miss this man, you don't want Liam to feel the same pain. Turning your head to look at Keanu, you're surprised to find teary eyes focused on the baby. “D-do you want to talk to him?”

He nods, glancing at you. He does love this child, that's not up to discussion. “Hi there, little one.” He starts, voice a little clouded. “It's so good to finally meet you.” Liam seems to find you with his eyes, and they move from Keanu and back at you.

“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Reeves.” Dr. Williams says, and the way she addresses you makes you move uncomfortably. “I must take the baby now. Run a few exams to be sure he's one hundred percent fine. Then we'll bring him back so you can feed him”

“Alright...” You don't want to let him go yet, but you knew about these exams. “Keanu, can you... Just keep an eye on him?” You ask in a low voice before Dr. Williams comes to take Liam from your arms.

“Sure.” Keanu slowly gets up, and you feel a little abandoned. But you shouldn't. You shouldn't have him this close, and you definitely shouldn't have kissed him.

But you can't take those things back. And you're not sure if you would if there was a chance.

You spend two days in the hospital, with Dr. Williams teaching you everything you'll need to know. But you've been taking classes, and reading many things about how to take care of your baby, so you think you can do it. Well, at least the theory. Laura comes to visit, and so does Lucia. Keanu doesn't leave except to shower and have dinner. Other than that, he's always around.

But the day comes when you can leave, so you bathe, dress up and wait for the nurse to bring Liam. You were trying not to think too much about it, but eventually, you have to. As you thank and watch the nurse leaving, you see as Keanu comes in, always a little embarrassed, avoiding your stare, head low. You haven't spoken much. Actually, you haven't said anything to him since the birth. You did thought he'd leave after that, but surprisingly, he stayed.

Holding Liam on one arm, very, very carefully, you try to pick up your bag. “Let me.” Keanu quickly says, making you stop your motion, eyes following him around as he takes the bag himself. “I can drive you wherever you'll be staying.” The words come out heavy as if they're piercing through his throat. “Or a cab, if–”

“No.” Cutting him short, you shake your head. There isn't anywhere else. The hotel is out of question, as is Lucia. And you don't want to crowd Laura's apartment with a loud, crying baby. And the house is ready to receive Liam, so, for now, there's no other place. “For Liam's sake, I believe it would be better if we stayed at your place. If that's not a problem for you, of course.” It takes a lot of effort not to call his place ‘home’. Because that's what that place is.

“Of course not.” He seems perplexed, furrowing his eyebrows a little before gesturing at the door. “Let's go.”

“Let's go.” You mutter, setting in motion.

• • •

Liam proved that knowing the theory doesn't mean you'll nail the real thing. At first, you find it strange that he sleeps too much, even though you read that newborn babies sleep for like seventeen hours a day, only to wake up when they're hungry. And that happens every two to three hours, which means you barely have any sleep. But you're completely focused on him, jumping to your feet whenever you hear that low-pitched cry.

You also start with the postpartum exercises, which was already planned, with a personal trainer that comes three times a week, so your body will go back to normal. You dropped many pounds very quickly. These things aren't that important, not now at least, that everything got real and you're still trying to deal with the web of lies you were caught into, but the routine gives you something else to think about.

The diet is carefully followed too, but that's all Keanu. You don't really see him, since you confined yourself to the guest room, where Liam is also sleeping in his crib, but the meals are always ready. He doesn't even give you the chance to cook something. When you go downstairs to eat, there's something ready for you.

The first month goes by slowly, and you're starting to get the hang of things. Since Liam spends most of the day in the bedroom with you, you asked Keanu to take him for his daily morning walks around the neighborhood. You agree with Laura, you can't and won't pull Liam away from him.

Sometime around Liam's second month, you're checking your face in the mirror. You look terribly tired, and you feel even worse. But the exhaustion is worth it, and you get a reminder every time you see or hear Liam. Taking a step back, you take a look at your body. You did recover from the baby weight pretty quickly since sometimes you have nothing to do but to keep repeating the exercises. You barely remember how you looked before.

Despite being a little early, you decide to call it a night, curling up in bed. You did miss sleeping on your stomach, but you spent so much time sleeping on your side that you just feel a lot more comfortable like this. You're having some kind of dream, about a peaceful beach when you're awakened by a gentle shake on your shoulder. Breathing deeply, you slowly float back into consciousness, raising your head and finding Keanu seated on the bed with a teary Liam on his arms.

“What happened?” You ask, already pushing yourself into a sitting position.

“Liam was crying. You didn't hear it so I came and changed him. But I think he's hungry.” Keanu says in a low voice, and you take Liam from his arms.

“I'm sorry he woke you up. I... I'm just tired.” You're surprised you fell in such a deep sleep you didn't hear Liam. “Thanks, though.” Sliding the strap from your tank top down your shoulder, you open the bra, freeing your breast which is easily found by Liam. It takes a while until you get reminded of Keanu's presence, your senses overcome by the need to feed your baby. So you give him a look, and you find his eyes locked on his hands cupped together on his lap.

“You don't have to thank me. I'm here if you need me.”

“Why did you do this, Keanu?” You didn't want to talk about it, but there's a freaking elephant in the room and you can't take it anymore. And you need to hear it from him because you're not sure where you're going from now. You're living one day after the other, but still, you feel lost. Clueless. “Why did you lie to me like that?”

“They told me you could lose the baby.” He begins, sad eyes finding yours. “Depending on how you'd take the news about the memory loss, Daniel's death, and the pregnancy. Dr. Wright said you were too hurt already, and your body wouldn't be able to deal with the stress.”

“Then it wasn't your idea.”

Silently, he shakes his head no. “I knew it wasn't fair to you. You needed Daniel, not me, a complete stranger, but if anything happened to you or the baby because I didn't agree with that crazy idea I'd never forgive myself.”

You're about to say something when Liam makes a little noise, and you look down at him. “Slowly, baby, slowly.” You whisper, caressing his cheek before speaking to Keanu again. “Why did you... Why did you...”

“Because I was in love with you by then.” He answers, knowing exactly what you're talking about. “I didn't want to. I mean, I did, I just... I knew I should have stopped, but I couldn't. I loved you so much. I love you so much and I–”

“I felt so violated. I thought I was making love with my husband, not with a stranger.” The words are harsh, but they're true. And the truth must be spoken.

“I'm so sorry, (Y/N). And I completely understand if you hate me.”

“I hate that I love you.” Muttering, you focus on the baby in your arms because you can't bring yourself to stare at Keanu anymore. “But I do. And it sucks because I feel that everything you told me was a lie. The first ‘I love you’ certainly was.”

He takes a deep breath, and you feel his eyes burning on you. “The first was, but all the other times...” Keanu moves closer, and you raise your eyes to meet his. “I love you. And I hate myself for everything I did, but I did it for you. And for Liam. I was terrified that you'd leave after knowing the truth, that you'd never want to look at me again but I rather have you hating me than seeing you or the baby in danger.”

“Ke, I...” You don't know what to say, and you curse yourself for calling him that.

“The only thing I need to know, if you have any affection for me, even if it's as small as a speck of dust... Please... Is there any chance we could... Somehow make this–”

“I don't know.” Cutting him off, you feel a tear rolling down, so you look away. The hurt in his voice breaks your heart, and you want to hug him, kiss him. “I don't know. I-I'm here, and I don't know what to do next... I have feelings for you but I'm still heartbroken. I don't know when I'll be able to... Look at you as I did before. You're not my husband, and I'm not Mrs. Reeves.”

“And Liam is not my son, I know that.” With a heavy sigh, he gets up, making his way to the door.

But you won't let him go, not until he hears it. Not until he hears the truth. Now, more than ever, the truth is a sacred thing, and you will speak it, it doesn't matter how you feel about it. The truth is above that. “You may not be his biological father, but I'll let you be his father.” You raise your voice just a little for him to stop, but not enough to bother Liam. “He grew up inside me listening to your voice, feeling your presence, if that's even possible, and influenced by all the love I have for you. And I won't take that away from Liam, I know he loves you.” It's pretty clear that the baby knows Keanu. He feels good when held by him, and when for some reason the morning walks can't happen, Liam cries his heart out, only to be put to rest if Keanu takes a fake walk with him through the house. “If you love him... It doesn't matter what will be of us, I want you to be around Liam.”

His eyes are intense, full of sadness, confusion, and things you can't understand. “I do. I love this baby and I love you.”

“Then will you let us stay? Until... I don't know. Until somehow we figure this out. Because even if I move out, I won't be far.” You're trying not to cry, at least not in front of him. You don't know what will happen next, or when, but you're happy to know you'll be here today, and tomorrow, and the day after. Then... You'll see.

“(Y/N), you can stay here for as long as you want. This is... Your house too, even though you don't feel like it anymore.”

Nodding, you look down at Liam again, who already stopped sucking and has fallen asleep again. “He's out.”

“Do you want me to put him back in his crib?” He reluctantly offers. Keanu is back at the very beginning of this. Distant, trying not to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Yes, please.” Slowly, you pull him off your breast, quickly covering yourself before giving him to Keanu. You watch as the mountain of a man delicately puts Liam down, fixing the blankets around him before walking away.

“Good night, beautiful.” He says, immediately stopping by the door and looking at you. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you–”

“Good night, Ke.” You mutter, turning on your side and closing your eyes shut again.

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #imagine keanu reeves #keanu reeves

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

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Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below.

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant.

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry.

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode.

3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified.

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief.

3:30 - OMG. “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it.

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT.

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true.

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot.

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit. hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining.

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great).

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius. I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed.

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition.

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little.

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining.

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa.

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general.

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect.

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk.

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating.

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it.

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial.

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!?

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm.

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season?

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between.

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder).

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues.

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.” Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often.

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore. DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT.

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here.

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might.

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay.

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason.

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :(

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode.

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers.

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil.

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this.

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL.

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality.

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame.

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast.

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured. Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him. <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis.

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people.

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card.

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour.

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day.

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence.

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting.

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back.

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood.

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :(

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here.

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son).

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons.

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator.

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT.

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die.

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING.

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her.

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all.

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it.

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :(

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene.

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape.

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds.

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect.

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie.

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?!

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces.

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral.

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth.

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us.

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity.

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out.

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s1utspeare · 3 years

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@staidwaters asked for Li Cu and “selcouth” (in reference to this post; send me a prompt!), and since someone ELSE requested selcouth for a character I gave you an extra word lmao. THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE PROMPT!!! I LOVE U!

Also I will put these in a whole collection on ao3 at some point lol.

selcouth—unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful hiraeth—a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home with maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

There’s a time, when he returns, when he realizes he doesn’t know where home is.

Objectively, of course, he knows where he lives. He knows that there’s an apartment with his father in it and his bed and clothes and things are there, but that’s different. It never quite was a home, but it really isn’t anymore, because it’s just… it’s so small. He’s spent weeks with the stars as his ceiling, even more looking at the same four walls of his room in the Wang compound, so an apartment with beat-up furniture and storage closet that was never used for storing things isn’t that much different from any other apartment he could be in.

He tries going to Su Wan’s first. Part of him wants to because he missed Su Wan, but it’s mostly because he didn’t know for weeks if his best friend was dead or alive, so when he wakes up in the middle of the night with a short, sharp gasp, all he has to do is listen, and he can hear Su Wan breathing next to him in the bed. Also, Su Wan will cuddle him whether Li Cu wants him to or not, so that’s nice.

It doesn’t last, though, because every morning he has to go downstairs and say hi to Su Wan’s parents, and Su Wan’s parents tolerate him, but they don’t really like him, and they really don’t like him now, after he filled their garage with packages and dragged Su Wan off into the desert. Also, sometimes he doesn’t want to be cuddled because that’s like arms pinning him to the ground and it takes all his willpower not to punch a sleeping Su Wan in the face, but to instead lie stiff as a board until morning.

So he packs up his stuff and moves to Hao-ge’s, which is different, but not exactly better. Hao-ge is dealing with his own grief, his own loss, and Li Cu feels in the way of all that fury and rage. He knows, logically, that Hao-ge doesn’t blame him anymore, but he can still see Hao-ge’s face, streaked with tears, his fist pulled back, his voice strangled with anger and pain. Li Cu’s leg throbs.

He stays for three days, just to be polite. He watches their shop while Hao-ge goes out of town to visit some relatives, to figure out what they’re going to do with his grandmother’s things. He knows Hao-ge is probably going to sell the store. It’s not just because he doesn’t want to run it; he honestly can’t, financially. Hao-ge’s not ready to let it go, quite yet, so when he gets back, Li Cu lets him have the space back, to trace over and memorize the corners of his home before he has to leave, makes a mental note to bring Su Wan over to help him pack, to keep him distracted. He didn’t sleep well at Hao-ge’s anyway, especially when he was gone. It was too quiet then.

He can’t couch surf, after that. All the rest of his friends are dead.

He uses some of the stupid money that Wu Xie paid him at the very beginning—and it’s really not even enough, Wu Xie should be putting him through college—to rent a hotel room for a couple nights. That’s nice at first. He has his own space, a big shower, cable tv. But he doesn’t know it, his body can’t relax in an unfamiliar room with big, wide windows and only one lock. He spends two sleepless nights lying on his back, on his side, on his stomach, pacing the carpet. He gives up after night two, when everything’s hazy and dull in the back of his head, and checks out.

He spends the afternoon wandering around the city, toeing past the restaurants and coffee shops and arcades that he used to hang out in, the soccer fields and schools and parks he passed every day. There’s the manhole cover that broke and the city’s never gotten around to fix it, so there are perpetual orange cones around it in a cult-like circle—no, no, don’t think about cults, cones can’t have cults, it’s just a circle, Li Cu, come on—and there’s the statue of a dog near the center of the park near his house and he likes dogs, even more when they’re—not attacking him, they didn’t attack him, the dust of Wu Xie’s grandfather is ground into your bloodstream—and there’s the library that he and Shen Qiong used to go to for story time when they were really young—and now she’s young forever, a bullet in her brain between her eyes she died angry with you she died alone she died at the hands of her family—and eventually he’s on the soccer field and he’s lying flat on his back in the grass but there’s too much light and he can’t see the stars.

He can’t see the stars.

He can’t fall asleep if he can’t see the stars. If he can’t see the stars maybe he’s underground again, maybe—

“Kid, you can’t sleep there.”

He lifts his head, wearily. It aches, heavy on his neck. It got dark at some point, except not right now, because there’s a police officer shining his flashlight into his eyes, and he squints into it.

“Come on,” the officer says, “Go home.”

Li Cu laughs and flops back onto the grass. The police officer mutters something that sounds like a swear word under his breath and comes through the gate, marching over to Li Cu and hauling him, albeit gently, off of the turf.

“You been drinking?” the officer asks. Li Cu shakes his head. “Can’t smell any on you.” The man scoffs. “Jeez, kid, no offense, but you look terrible.”

Li Cu just blinks at him. He’s really tired, actually.

The officer sighs. “Come on, I’ll drive you home. You got an ID?”

Li Cu remembers that his ID is in his wallet which is in the pocket of his backpack and he knows it’s there because he had to use it to pay for the hotel.

He hands the entire thing to the officer, who sorts through it, glancing at Li Cu every so often in concern, and clicking his tongue contentedly when he finds what he’s looking for.

“Alright,” he says, “Let’s get you home.”

Li Cu’s glad this officer knows where his home is, because Li Cu has no idea.

Never mind. Li Cu is pretty sure this isn’t his house.

The police officer rings the doorbell, and unfamiliar chime. A loud, deep voice inside says, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” and then the door is flying open, and a large man with wild hair is staring down at them.

Li Cu frowns because he has no idea who this guy is.

The guy seems to know him, though, because he rolls his eyes, turns back into the house and shouts, “TIANZHEN!”

Li Cu winces, cause his head kind of hurts now, and that was not helpful.

The man turns back to look at them. “What did he do?”

“Uh,” the officer says, because he’s shorter than Li Cu, actually, so he must be feeling very intimidated by this large man, “He was sleeping on the soccer field at the high school.”

The door man snorts. “Of course he was.” He folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe, looks Li Cu over. “Yeah, you look like a mess, Ya Li.”

“Wha?” Li Cu says, because that’s weird, that this strange giant man with large arms is calling him Ya Li.

“That’s what Xiao Wan called you, right?” the man asks. “Su Wan? Your best friend?”

Li Cu gapes. “How do you know Su Wan?” He backs up a step. “Is someone stalking me again?”

The police officer looks very alarmed at that. “Again?”

“He’s joking,” the Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li says, “No one’s stalking him. His friends came to me for help a while back, but he wasn’t with them.”

The police officer does not seem convinced, but at that moment, a familiar face appears in the doorway behind the Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li.

“Wu Xie?” Li Cu asks.

Wu Xie looks just as surprised as Li Cu is. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” the officer says, “He was trying to sleep on the soccer field. Which is actually illegal. So I brought him home.” He frowns. “This is his home, right?”

“I don’t know,” Li Cu says.

“Yes,” Wu Xie says quickly. “Yes, you brought him to the right place. Sorry, he’s been a little out of it lately. Stress at school, you know. Not sleeping very well.”

“How’d you know that?” Li Cu asks in surprise, because as far as he can remember, he hasn’t seen Wu Xie since before the Wang compound. There’s a fuzzy memory of an apology, of being carried, but after he’d been thrown out the window, he woke up on a train.

He glares at the windows to the side of the house. He does not trust them.

Wu Xie gathers him by the shoulders and pulls him through the doorway. “Thank you, officer. I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay…” the police officer says. “Um. Get some rest, kid.”

“Mmm hmm,” Li Cu mumbles, even though he knows that probably won’t happen, and Wu Xie shuts the door.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks. “You’re supposed to be at home.”

“I dunno where it is,” Li Cu says. He yawns, widely. How long has it been since he slept? He has no idea.

“You don’t know where your house is?” Wu Xie says slowly, like he’s trying to figure something out. He’ll be able to do it. Wu Xie has a Big Brain.

“My house is where my house is,” Li Cu says vaguely. “I dunno where’s home.”

Wu Xie goes silent for a moment. “I see.”

Li Cu blinks himself into less of a stupor, figures out where his hands went (they were on the end of his arms). “I’ll go back there, I guess. Sorry.”

“No, no, wait,” Wu Xie says, which is funny, because Li Cu hasn’t moved. “It’s late. You’re… really tired. We have a couch.”

“Good for you,” Li Cu congratulates him.

Wu Xie closes his eyes for a second, gritting his teeth. “The couch is for you.”

“You’re giving me a couch?”

“Oh my god,” Wu Xie says.

The Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li laughs. “You sure chose a good one, Tianzhen.”

“Shut up, Pangzi,” Wu Xie mutters, because apparently he is this Tianzhen person.

“Make him take a nap for an hour,” Pangzi says, wandering off down the hall. “Then dinner’ll be ready.”

“We had dinner earlier,” Wu Xie calls after him.

Pangzi stops, looks at Wu Xie pointedly. “Nope. Dinner. In an hour. So the kid can join us.”

“Oh,” Wu Xie says. “Oh, right. Yeah. Dinner.”

Li Cu might puzzle through this if he were more awake, but he’s really not. “What?”

Wu Xie sighs at him. Li Cu should really stop making him do that. “Alright,” he says, “Come with me.”

Li Cu dutifully follows Wu Xie down the hallway, because he’s followed Wu Xie into worse places.

They come out into a wide-open room, full of books and random vases and boxes of papers and bits and bobs. Sure enough, there’s a couch there, and Wu Xie steers Li Cu over to it, pushing against his shoulders gently to make him sit. The couch is pretty soft, a well-worn type of feel to it, like someone has sat here every day for years and years and filled it full of memories.

“I’m not going to ask if you need to be hom—back at your place, because I really doubt it,” Wu Xie tells him. His voice is coming from below Li Cu’s ears, so Li Cu looks down to see Wu Xie pulling off one of his boots, so Li Cu flops over his knees to pull of the other one, but his fingers get tangled in the laces, and he gives up and lets Wu Xie do it.

Wu Xie sighs at him. He takes Li Cu’s backpack and puts it next to the coffee table, where Li Cu can see it. He appreciates that. It’s good to know where things are. If you know where your things are, you can’t lose them. If you know where snakes are, they can’t bite you. If you know where Wu Xie is, you don’t have to miss him.

“Lie down,” Wu Xie says softly, and the couch really is comfortable, so Li Cu tentatively pulls his legs up and sets his head down and gazes at the lamp next to an armchair.

Wu Xie drags the throw blanket from the back of the couch and settles it around Li Cu’s body, which might be a little overkill, because Li Cu isn’t going to be here that long, he’s just going to rest for a moment, and then he’ll leave. Then he’ll get out of Wu Xie’s way. He’ll go back. Just a few minutes.

Wu Xie straightens up, grunting a little bit, and Li Cu almost says, don’t go, but he bites his tongue. He can’t ask that much of Wu Xie. Wu Xie’s already giving him a couch.

But then, Wu Xie doesn’t leave. He goes over to the armchair, picks up the notebook lying tent-style over its arm, flips through it. Someone’s glasses are on the end table, and that someone turns out to be Wu Xie, because they go on his nose as he takes in whatever the journal says, chewing the inside of his cheek absently and tapping a pattern out on his knee.

Li Cu blinks, slowly. Wu Xie is warm and marvelous, he thinks. He’s fading into a soft glow, backlit by a warm light that reminds Li Cu of something, something good, something he thought he lost, but maybe not. Maybe not.

He falls asleep and dreams he’s home.

#alsdighalskdfj i made myself sad #writing #my writing #fic #dmbj #li cu #wu xie #pangzi #there's a cop in here and he's nice ig but fuck the police #just putting that out there #anyway #prompt fill #ask tag #dad!xie rights #the lost tomb #tomb of the sea #sha hai

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ibijau · 4 years

Text

I blame @nillegible who dropped this amazing concept on the xisang discord, then wrote a wonderful take on it and said it was fine if I played with it as well

Nie Huaisang wasn’t supposed to be in that part of Carp Tower, which was precisely why he was there. Nobody ever came around there anymore, not since Jin Guangyao had so virtuously turned his back on the demonic cultivation his father had encouraged and allowed to fester inside his sect. Nie Huaisang had come there a few times during his days of investigation, never finding much of interest. He had figured out that it was the quietest place in all of Carp Tower, though, and he had often escaped there when forced to be in Lanling yet needing a moment to compose himself… and even now, with Jin Guangyao dead months ago, it was hard to keep his cool in enemy territory.

It did not help that Jin Rulan, after inviting him to Carp Tower to discuss new terms on a number of old treaties between their sects, had suddenly been taken by an emergency he could not explain. He had asked Nie Huaisang to stay as his guest until the matter was settled, promising it would be quick.

That had been over a week ago.

Nie Huaisang, this whole time, had done his best not to snoop around. It was no concern of his if Jin Rulan had to deal with emergencies, he refused to get involved unless he was invited to do so. The temptation was there to find out, certainly, but… Nie Huaisang was tired of other people’s secrets. So to avoid finding out anything, he mostly spent his days wandering in the gardens, or seeking peace in this abandoned part of Carp Tower. It was so quiet here, he could almost pretend that everything was fine.

The quiet was broken after he passed the door of a little building, and heard a shout.

“Uncle Nie!”

Nie Huaisang startled, and turned in the direction of the voice. He saw a child running his way from inside the building, the sight pulling at a heart he thought he no longer had. Without thinking, Nie Huaisang fell to his knees and opened his arms wide, letting the child throw himself at his neck before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Uncle Nie, you’re here!”

“SongSong?” Nie Huaisang gasped.

Before he could even fully process how impossible it was for that child to be here, more voices rushed their way. Still acting on instinct alone, Nie Huaisang stood up again, keeping the little boy in his arms. It was a relief when he saw Jin Rulan and Wei Wuxian rush out of that same building, meaning he probably wouldn’t have to fight after all.

Wei Wuxian seemed to have less amicable thoughts about him. He frowned deeply when he saw that Nie Huaisang was holding the little boy so closely, and pulled out his flute as a quiet threat.

“Nie zongzhu, put down that child,” he ordered.

“Wei gongzi, I don’t think I could even if I tried,” Nie Huaisang retorted, feeling Jin Rusong’s grasp on him tighten, the little boy curling up against his chest in terror. “SongSong, have they scared you very much?”

“He says he’s LingLing,” the child muttered, pointing an accusatory finger at poor Jin Rulan who looked quite in shock over whatever was going on. “He’s not, LingLing is little like SongSong.”

“And you don’t know the other man either, so you became scared?” Nie Huaisang asked, smiling when Jin Rusong nodded and hid his face against his neck. “So my clever little SongSong decided to run for it. What a clever boy! Well, it’s lucky you found me. You know me well, right SongSong?”

The little boy relaxed a little, clearly happy to be receiving praise. He was always such a sweet child who soaked up affection like a sponge. Nie Huaisang used to adore him and to spoil him rotten whenever he could, even after having realised he would need to orphan him someday. He had cried for days after Jin Rusong had died, and again when he had understood why the child had died.

Or appeared to die, as seemed to be the case. The little boy in his arms was warm and very much alive.

“Put him down,” Wei Wuxian ordered again, glaring at Nie Huaisang.

“No, I won’t. Not right away. Hey, SongSong, it’s fine, these two are not bad people. They are my… they are uncle Lan’s friends. And we both know uncle Lan would never be friends with bad people, right?”

If the other two startled at those words, Jin Rusong eagerly nodded, and dared to glance in their direction with less fear.

“He’s not LingLing,” he insisted, pointing again at his cousin.

Jin Rulan, usually never showing any emotion but haughtiness or anger, made a grimace of anguish at the accusation. As was to be expected. He’d been young when Jin Rusong had died, but the two cousins had been raised like brothers, they had been so close before tragedy struck.

“I’ve told you, you’ve been very sick, A-Song,” Jin Rulan explained, taking a step toward his cousin and the man holding him. “I’m Jin Ling, I’m just… I’ve grown up a bit.”

“I don’t like it,” Jin Rusong retorted, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t like you. I want my mommy and daddy. Uncle Nie, take me to mommy!”

Nie Huaisang froze, that simple demand knocking the breath out of him.

It had been natural to pick up Jin Rusong and to comfort him, like something out of a memory, but suddenly reality caught up to him. He noticed the way Wei Wuxian looked at him with suspicion, with hatred almost, his posture ready for a fight. He saw the fear in Jin Rulan’s eyes, how he was clearly desperate to come steal back his cousin from the man who had…

Ah.

Nie Huaisang smiled as he knelt down again, trying to push the child away from him.

“SongSong, I think you should go with your cousin, actually. Look how strong he has become, don’t you think he’ll take good care of you?”

The more Nie Huaisang tried to free himself, the harder Jin Rusong clung to his neck, desperately clawing at him so he wouldn’t have to let go, leaving red lines on his skin.

“I don’t know them, I don’t know them!” he wailed, spilling heavy tears. “Uncle Nie, I don’t know them, stay with me! Take me to mommy!”

With a sigh, Nie Huaisang gave up for a moment and allowed the little boy to curl up again against him, his tears calming quickly. Earlier it had made him feel warm and happy to have this child in his arms. Now, it only amplified the hollowness in his chest, reminding him of things he used to have.

Watching them intently, Jin Rulan tilted his head before looking at Wei Wuxian.

“Maybe… if A-Song trusts him… You said it’s best if he stays calm for a while, right?”

Wei Wuxian’s frown deepened. His posture remained tense, but he nodded slowly.

“If Nie zongzhu is willing to help. Though I wonder how much of a surprise this situation is to him?”

It was Nie Huaisang’s turn to frown, though he made efforts to keep his body relaxed so he wouldn’t stress out poor Jin Rusong.

“If I had known that SongSong was alive, I would have made different choices on certain matters,” he stated in as pleasant a voice as he could manage. Jin Guangyao would still have needed to die, that had never been negotiable. But if he had known that Jin Rusong had survived the attack on his life somehow, then he would have been more careful of Qin Su’s well-being. In fact, Nie Huaisang would have kept certain things secret, so his nephew wouldn’t have to live with the infamy of his father’s sin. “I am willing to help though, if I’m allowed.”

Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian exchanged another look, before the young sect leader took another step toward Nie Huaisang and his cousin.

“A-Song, if Nie zongzhu comes with us, will you listen and be good?”

“I want mommy,” the little boy replied.

“Mommy can’t be with SongSong at the moment,” Nie Huaisang explained, glad for once that lying had become so easy to him. “Neither can daddy. But I think LingLing has important things to say, so why don’t we go back inside and listen to what he has to say?” Jin Rusong shook his head, looking ready to cry again. This called for desperate measures. “I’ll let SongSong play with my fan,” he offered. “Today, it’s one that has birds on it.”

Jin Rusong considered it for a moment. It used to be a game between them, Jin Rusong so fascinated by the pretty fans, Nie Huaisang desperate to protect them from clumsy and occasionally sticky hands. It used to make Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao laugh to see the two of them play fighting over fans.

It was odd to think of Jing Guangyo and Lan Xichen laughing, after everything.

But for Jin Rusong, those memories hadn’t been tainted. So he did not hesitate very long before nodding eagerly. It took a bit of a balancing act, but Nie Huaisang managed to pull out his fan of the way without having to put down the child. It made his heart clench to see with what care Jin Rusong slowly opened that fan, the shining smile on his face as he discovered the painted birds. It really was more than Nie Huaisang could handle so he turned to look at Jin Rulan and Wei Wuxian, fearful he would start crying in nostalgia otherwise.

“How is this possible anyway?” he asked. “I was there when… I was there. I saw it happen.”

“We’re not sure how exactly he did it,” Jin Rulan explained, motioning for Nie Huaisang to follow them back inside. “But A-Song has been kept in stasis all this time while uncle tried to find ways to heal him. He… there was something wrong with A-Song’s heart, so it was the only way uncle could keep him alive until he found a cure.”

Once they were inside, Jin Rusong’s attention drifted away from the fan for a moment, the child shivering in fear in Nie Huaisang’s arms. Not without reason. Not only was that building a medical practice of some sort, but in a corner stood the terrifying Ghost General himself. Well, he scared Nie Huaisang and Jin Rusong anyway, the child because he could probably tell this person wasn’t quite alive, the adult because he knew what that man was capable of, even if at that moment he looked all sorry and pitiful.

It puzzled Nie Huaisang at first that this fierce corpse should be there, until he remembered who his sister had been. Medical miracles might have run in the family.

“Well, SongSong and I are listening,” Nie Huaisang said with a polite smile. “Why don’t the three of you explain this situation to us?”

Jin Rulan nodded, and took a deep breath.

“So, I was going through my uncle’s belongings a few months ago when I found this journal he kept. I couldn’t quite believe it at first, but I found another secret room and inside…”

#nie huaisang #jin rusong #jin ling #wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi #guest appearance by wen ning #go check nelligeble's fic if you have yet it is very very sweet #jau writes #urgh I have a lot of emotions about jin ruson ok?#jin rusong lives

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seokjinsdisciple · 3 years

Text

It’s a Deal - seven

supernatural! johnny x reader x jaehyun, mate!au

Word Count: 1.7k

sorry its been forever oops

tags: @thatonekpopsweater, @queen-of-himbos , @yourchasingsunsetslove, @a-brooding-bird, @sokkigarden, @tardis-world

send me a dm or an ask to be on the taglist

warnings: language, supernatural stuff, arguing?, mentions of scent if that needs to be tagged idrk

series masterlist

You had sworn yourself to not go near the two fae boys, their handsome faces intoxicating you more often than not. You didn’t like making stupid decisions. But when you were around the two of them, stupid decisions seemed to be all that you could make.

Two weeks had passed since the events at the palace, and to be honest, you were very relieved that the boys had been leaving you alone. It felt nice to return to school, work and the normalcy that was being a college student. You didn’t have to think about the fae, well at least not that they were real, and it was nice.

You couldn’t help but worry a little at the disappearance of the two boys who had been annoying you for weeks, but you figured that they could take care of themselves. You were right.

So you went along like you normally would, attending your classes, studying for your exams and working. You had found yourself at the library more often than not. You needed to study for your finals. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself as you sat in the same spot of the library where you had a perfect view of Dong-young working. Yeah it was a little creepy of you to watch him, but you were there to study, only to study.

You found yourself at your table in the library, glancing around to see if you could spot the cute bunny boy who had helped you a few weeks ago. He was normally at the front counter, but you couldn’t find him today. You promised yourself you would just do one subtle peer around the bookshelves to see if you could spot him, so you did. Then, with no sign of him you bent over to pull your books and computer out of your bag, jumping out of your skin when a voice echoed from behind your chair.

“Looking for someone?” The voice from behind laughed. You were met with Dong-young’s mischievous smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Have I been that obvious?” You asked, the heat of embarrassment flooding your body.

“Only a little bit,” he smiled at you, “But I would be lying if I said I hated having such a pretty girl watching me.”

“I swear I also had to study,” you muttered, giving an awkward chuckle as Dong-young just smiled at you.

“Well, if you’ve done enough studying, I was hoping you would join me for lunch somewhere?”

“Lunch?”

“Well today is the first day I’ve had off in awhile, and I was really hoping we could spend it somewhere besides this library.”

And who were you to say no to that? So you followed him out of the library, through campus, and into a small little cafe.

The two of you talked easily, joking around as if you had known each other for years. You laughed, and yeah you flirted. Truly the lunch felt like a dream, and it was the perfect way to relieve some stress from this semester. And Dong-young was sweet, like so sweet. He paid for lunch, held your hand, and gave you his scarf as you walked around the park. He really was the perfect gentleman. He walked you home, hand intertwined with yours the whole way.

He went with you to get your groceries, carrying them with you back to your apartment.

“This is me,” you spoke, nodding your head towards your apartment building. Dong-young just smiled, gently handing you the groceries you had gotten before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you for joining me today,” he grinned, leaning down and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I had a really good time,” you smiled back at him, “Thank you for not being creeped out by my staring.”

“Never creeped out,” he laughed, scratching the back of his head as he asked “I was hoping we could trade numbers?”

You pulled your phone out as he got his, the two of you swapping phones without a second thought.

“Oh no,” he spoke, pointing to your phone’s black screen, “It’s dead.”

“That’s alright,” you smiled, “You have my number now. I will be expecting a text and a second date soon.”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled back, “If you don’t hear from me soon, which you will by the way, you know where to find me.”

“You bet I do,” you smiled back, giggling as he took your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“I’ll see you around, YN,” he gave a short wave before turning on his heels and walking away.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched him walk away. Smile never leaving your lips as you climbed the stairs up to your apartment. You were elated, and you couldn’t wait to plug your phone in and wait for a text from Dong-young. At least until you heard two very familiar voices echoing through the hallway of your apartment building.

You had taken the brothers' absence in your life for granted. A fact that was clearly evident as they stood bickering with each other in front of your apartment door. You couldn’t help but groan as you handed them the bags of groceries that you had been carrying. Wordlessly unlocking the door and letting them continue their arguing as you held your front door open.

The two men walked inside easily, barely glancing at you as they continued arguing. You couldn’t tell the full extent of the argument, but you figured it had something to do with their father. You rolled your eyes as the boys placed the groceries on your counter, shrugging your coat and Dong-young’s scarf off of your body and throwing them half-hazardly on the back of one of your chairs.

The boys' incessant bickering filled your ears as you began to put your groceries away. The joy you had felt with Dong-young slowly transforming into irritability at the never ending arguing of Johnny and Jaehyun.

“Enough,” you started, rubbing a hand across your face to relieve some tension, “help me put the groceries away and then you can continue fighting about whatever it is you are fighting about.”

“Sorry, pet,” Jaehyun walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before reaching around you to start putting the groceries away.

“You seem stressed,” Johnny said, coming up behind you and wrapping you in a hug. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, exhaling contently, but then he tensed, “You smell weird.”

He pushed you away for a second, crinkling his nose before sniffing you again. He practically growled as he said, “I don’t like it.”

“Since when can fae smell that well?” You asked, subconsciously sniffing your shirt.

“Mm,” Jaehyun shook his head, “It’s not a fae thing its a-”

“Jaehyun.”

He took one look at Johnny’s glare and coughed, awkwardly smiling as he took an exaggerated sniff of your neck.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, “It’s totally a fairy thing, nothing else at all.”

“Um, ok then?” You chuckled awkwardly, grabbing the cereal box and putting it into the cabinet above you.

“Just please go shower?” Johnny asked, covering his nose with his shirt.

“That seems a little mean, Johnny,” you frowned, sticking your tongue out at him, “but yeah, I’ll go shower.”

You shuffled off to your bathroom, sniffing your shirt again, not smelling anything different. You huffed as you turned the shower on, fae could be so rude sometimes. Never in your life could you imagine telling someone they smelled bad.

You undressed, testing the temperature of the water with your hand. Your ears perked up as you heard the boys start talking again.

“You’re gonna have to tell her sometime, Johnny,” Jaehyun said.

“I know, but now is not the time,” he replied, “There’s too many things going on.”

“Whatever you say dear brother,” Jaehyun chuckled, “What’d she smell like anyways? I thought you were going to vomit when you smelled her.”

“It’s not funny Jae,” Johnny groaned, “She smelled like another man, like him.”

“That’s impossible! There’s no way she smelled like him,” Jaehyun said, you could hear him moving around the kitchen now, probably putting away the rest of the groceries. “Clearly someone has been spending too much time talking war strategies with father.”

“Oh please, Jaehyun not this again,” Johnny groaned, “You know you have other duties to attend to, my only duty is making sure no one in the family gets killed.”

“Yet you are only worried about her,” Jaehyun snapped back.

“She can’t protect herself,” Johnny yelled back, “You are a trained warrior, Mark has powers to protect him, Jaemin and Jeno will protect each other. She has no one to protect her but me.”

“She has us Johnny. And you know each of our brothers would do anything to protect her too.”

“You don’t get what it's like Jae,” Johnny’s voice was barely audible now, you had to lean against the door to hear him clearly, “-to find her and not be able to be with her feels like I am dying.”

You closed your eyes, straining your ears trying to hear what Jaehyun would say back, but he was too quiet. Your thoughts were swirling as you finally got under the spray of the water. The warmth cascading down your body as you tried to piece together what this meant. What was Johnny hiding from you? And why did he feel so compelled to protect you? You watched as the soap swirled around your feet and slid into the drain, left with more questions than answers.

#johnny x reader #johnny smut #johnny scenarios #johnny angst #johnny fanfic #johnny fluff #supernatural!johnny #supernatural!jaehyun #supernatural!nct #johnny #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun angst #jaehyun #nct fanfic #nct

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simpforfictionalboys · 4 years

Text

Struggle Part 1

Summary- Peter Parker isn’t the only one that is keeping secrets at Midtown high. Much less being the daughter of Stephan Strange and one of the only females in her coven, Y/n is in for a little surprise. (YOU ARE SMALL AND LOOK LIKE YOU COULDN’T HURT A FLY)

Pairing- Peter Parker x reader, Peter Parker x witch!reader, Peter Parker x Strange!reader

Warning(s)- Language, Action, Gore

Part 2

The breath in your throat caught as a sliver of fur went across for bare leg- a calm reminder of your protector that sat under the table covered in shadows and air.

“Y/n?” Head snapping up you looked back over to where Peter Parker was sitting across from the table next to Ned. Your leg was lying on the other side nearly on Pete’s.

“Hmm?” You questioned back before looking into the warm golden eyes that were fixed on you. A look that you were now looking forward to seeing every day as you came to school.

“I- We were thinking about coming over to my place tonight- I mean if you want to. You don’t need to.” Hearing something that sounded along the lines of ‘nice’ that Ned muttered to Peter.

The Masters of Mythic Arts. That was the potential issue. With the current dealings with the whole time stone thing that was now lying heavily around your neck you didn’t want to think of anything other than having a good time. Knowing that there might be a chance that you could be dead tomorrow.

“Yeah, sounds great. This is probably going to be one of my only free nights tonight.” And I really would like to spend it with you.

The Ancient Ones were so far up your ass about your training that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to get summoned. Assholes.

“Great! I’m so glad you can go since me and MJ are busy tonight. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” Ned rushed out before dodging his way out of the lunch room with the crowd of students being dismissed by the bell.

Your heart seemed to seize in your chest as you looked over to where Peter was looking dumb-folded at where his friend just ditched him alone with the girl of his dreams.

“Does that still work for you?” You said your voice seeming more steady than you thought it would be as you looked over to the cute nerd.

“Yes- totally! I mean- sure.” He tried to play it out cool as you just rolled your eyes surging forward with a new found confidence and kissed him on the cheek before turning away as soon as you could.

“See you, Parker.”

***

Warmth encased your body as your eyes shuttered open probably being the most comfortable that you had been in the past couple of days.

There was an arm wrapped around your midsection as well as a warm breath touching the side of your neck.

Peter.

“You guys look comfy.” Your head shot up nearly smacking Peter in the face before he dodged it.

“Jesus, May!” Peter Cursed out before snaking his hand from your waist and shooting up as well on the couch. It wasn’t unusual that you hung out with Peter and were close but it was the first time that you fell asleep- cuddling.

Blush reached your cheeks as you looked over to Aunt May who was grinning towards your disheveled form and where you were now a foot away from him.

“I was going to tell you guys that Mr. Stark just called requesting Peter to come to the tower but I am sure that I could make up some sort of excuse if you guys want to stay and cuddle some more.”

You didn’t think that it could be possible to blush even more but you were utterly wrong, Peter strung up at the name and moved to go to his room.

“I should probably go, my dad is waiting-” You stumbled to come up with an excuse as May winked at you Peter giving her an exasperated look.

A ding ran through the room almost immediately as to which you grabbed your phone checking the messages. Dad:

15 minutes ago-Y/n. Are you coming? You have training tonight.

7 minutes- Y/n, sweetheart?

Now- Come now

Saved by the freaking bell. Your eyes shifted to where Peter was standing a bit of a goofy look on his face as you tucked your phone into your pocket the shadow that always seemed to follow you waiting in the shadows to protect you at any moment.

A ring of the doorbell turned your attention to a large framed teenager a year older than you.

Matthew Veneer, one of the youngest other than you in your coven and probably one of the only people you were wholly comfortable in the coven, other than your father.

He was also from your school but he was more of a popular guy or sorts but you were also.

“Hi, Matthew? How are you?” May said politely but you could see Peter’s face harden because of Matt. You never knew why but he just- didn’t like him. May had seen him probably- once.

“Pretty good, Ms. Parker. I’m here for, Y/n.”

“See you. Bye May.” You urged before turning and making your way towards the door. Almost as soon as you got towards the door you squeezed his arm so hard that he grunted out but all he did was wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from hurting him more.

“What are you doing here, Matt? I can take care of myself. By Agamotto, Matt!” You cursed as he continued to drag you out of the apartment building.

“They are after the stone. Most likely they are tracking our magic. We need to get back now.”

Your blood chilled. The Eye of Agamotto lying on your chest. Sensing your stress the shadow formed into a shape- a cat. Ever since you had the Eye you had Circe. She was your protection - well other than your own powers.

***

“I don’t need a guard dog!” You shouted as soon as you got into the house angry with Matthew’s insensate need to be close and protect you.

“You fell on the subway-”

“Say one more thing and I will-” You were caught off by a book flying at your head in which you swung your hand around causing the book to fly into the next room someone nearly ducking the book.

Spider-man and Tony Stark were sitting in your living room.

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bloodycassian · 3 years

Text

Enemies and Allies - Reader + Night court. the concept:

enemies forced together in alliance to save their courts. Politics, tension, "Once we're done here I will be the one to kill you." slow burn reader x an Illyrian? Not sure who yet

Part 1 of a possibly reoccurring fic.

You never liked dealing with other courts, but Rhysand and Tamlin were possibly the two worst high lords to deal with. Helion would have been up there too if he wasn't so damn charming. And Beron didn't even count, considering he was your uncle. He was annoying automatically. And a damned fool for not showing up to the funeral. Tamlin was a brute shoved into power much too early. You could tell just from the way he carried himself. No nobility, no grace. Just the brutal beast that lurked under his skin. The way he didn't bother leaving any flowers along the coast line was further proof of his childish ways. Rhysand was the polar opposite. The epitome of arrogance, grace, poise and political power. All words and strategy, enough to make you double take every time he opened his mouth. Constantly on the lookout for hidden meaning or loopholes in his word choice. He made your heart race with stress. His spymaster and general though, were like two neutral, yet menacing gargoyles on either side of him. They were unsettling, especially with the shadows that crept over the spy. You tried not to stare at those curling around his shoulders, or the dull siphons that laid on each of their hands. Or the wings. The wings would have been the worst part if there weren't other winged generals at the funeral. Peregryns guarded their high lord, one at each side much like Rhysand. Only they radiated sunshine, and light and goodness. Still terrifyingly deadly, though. Their polished armor and ceremonial scepters glinting from the overcast skies. "A funeral should be a celebration... of the life that was. Please, join us." Tarquin said, voice thick. His mate's lip quivered. The ocean crashed against the sand, scooping up the flowers left to honor his son. Your heart squeezed at the tone change in his voice. The way he struggled to hold himself together for his court. Vivienne turned from the crowd, and Tarquin followed. Her dark hair moved like water over her thin frame. They held each other for a long moment while the Summer court guards ushered guests to the large open beach house. You hesitated, looking out towards the ocean as it roiled. The dark water churned, seagulls overhead made no sound as they passed. "Its been a long time, Autumn." The sultry voice was enough to make your skin crawl. He had kept the nickname since he'd met you. And in the two hundred years since. He did not forget such a remarkable introduction. Especially of someone who had your kind of power in an opposing court. His eyes flashed with amusement when you turned, plastering on a charming smile. "I would have preferred longer, but the Cauldron works in strange ways sometimes." You retorted, and began walking away from him, grinding your teeth when he followed with ease. He laughed and nodded. "Indeed it does, with the passing of Tarquin's only child." the not question was leading, looking to see if you knew anything of the murder. Anger spread though you at the subtle accusation. You couldnt let it show. You had to keep your calm. Or he would surely suspect something of you. You could practically see the accusation scene play out when Night court invaded Autumn on Summer's behalf. Claiming that Autumn had killed the boy. "A parent should never outlive their own child." You said mournfully. You knew from experience how it ruined families after such a loss. When you snuck a glance at his face, you could have swore you saw pain there. A longing that you didnt understand coming from him. It almost made you feel bad for him. You jolted yourself, forcing your mind to focus upon on your steps in the sand. He paused for just a second before opening the bungalow door for you, inviting you to the wake. All courts dressed in mute tones of their colors, not one dared to raise their voice above the hushed murmurs. Rhysand gave a nod to his two generals in the corner, standing like statues. "I'll be seeing you then, Autumn." His eyes met yours and you swore you saw something linger there. Before you could tell him to knock it off with the nickname, he was weaving his way across the room to the two Illyrians. Stopping every so often to give grim smiles to the families of Summer Court. His actions seemed genuine in nature. You dared not reach out a mental hand to him though, knowing you might not return with it intact. + "And what of Night court?" Beron's slurred words were familiar. The old man had been wasting away in his own filth for years. After the Lady of Autumn disappeared, he had nothing left to keep him in line. His sons - Eris namely- made the important decisions in the court, but he still acted as ruler. The figurehead for important events and nothing more. He had also become obsessed with the innate abilities of all the other high lords. Constantly comparing his own lingering power with the others. In two hundred years, his body had seemed to begin to wither. Directly after your birth, some said. And cursed you for their ruler's demise. After the shame of being one of the few courts to refuse to help win the war, Beron had given up completely. Still power hungry, but no longer driven. "Night court seems to be fine. Not shaken by the murders." You surmised as best you could after your short interaction with the High Lord. "Was it's high Lady there?" He asked with a grunt of a laugh. He was always undermining the role, laughing whenever you mentioned seeing the lady of Night. "She was not. I believe she was taking care of the babe, as the two generals were there." He shook his head, his gray hair falling in his face. "As a female should." You fought not to cringe or bite back at him. Even if he was your uncle, Beron would be a fantastic target if there was, in fact a murderer loose in Prythian. You shooed the tratirous thought away. "Tarquin and Vivienne send their regards." You said, hoping he would allow you to take your leave. You glanced around to the cavernous space that encapsulated the dark throne room. The banners on the wall seemed lacking in color. Years of dust likely growing on them. The cracked stone floor showed its age as well, moss growing in the corners. He refused to let anyone touch up the dim room after his wife had gone. Echoing steps sounded behind you. You turned on your heel calmly, but gripped your sword. Ready to defend your High Lord if needed. Your mouth fell open at the sight of The Morrigan striding down the long hall. Eris on her heels behind her. She was a beacon of light among the dull ancient stone walls. Eris had a wicked grin on, eyes locked on his father. + "The Queens have been killed." She announced, no wavering in her tone. Your stomach hit the floor. Beron said nothing, didnt show any reaction in the slightest. As if he already knew. "And they sent you so I could be assured the court of Nightmares isnt lying?" "They sent me because I saw to their end personally." Eris even glanced at her with the tone she used. She leveled a look at Beron. He waved a hand, as if the Night court commander hadn't just announced that the biggest enemies to Prythian were dead."Cut off the head of the snake and more appear." He coughed after the shrug, his breathing labored. Eris hid a pained look that you knew all too well. The denial of his father's life coming to an end in front of him. You could have balked at him for the outright insult but kept your mouth shut. "High Lord.." you began, wanting to consult him on the weight of the situation. He glared at you, that familiar piercing stare that told you to stop whatever you were doing. As a child, that stare was enough to make you behave. You didn't dare think of what more than a stare Eris had to go through during his childhood. Eris' jaw clenched before he began "Father, the Queens no longer pose a threat. This would be the perfect op-" "Enough, boy!" Beron's voice echoed in the hall. Your cousin's face went red with shame. Fear settled in your stomach. If Beron had no plan for moving forces to the continent to stablaise, there would be a power struggle. Even you knew that. "You assume I dont have a plan. We can discuss this when there are no wandering eyes or ears present." His tone was softer, but still laced with that High Lord's authority. Mor's eyes could have killed them if she had the ability. She snorted, and turned on a heel to leave. Her footsteps echoing in the long hall. "The Night Court's whore, going back to where she belongs." Beron mused to himself. She stopped dead in her tracks. Eris' face went pale when she turned. Your palms went sweaty at her eyes, like two daggers looking at him. She held up a hand. Light flashed, and suddenly there was a razor thin spear flying through the air. You ran at The Morrigan before you knew what you were doing. Your hands were a flurry of movement as you tried to keep her down. Eris just watched, unable to move as he watched death race for his father. A wet splatter, and Beron's chest was punctured by that golden spear. His mouth leaked blood, his eyes closing. Eris was rooted to the spot. Your body locked up, and Mor shoved you off of her with a grunt. She wasnt trying to win the fight, she could have obliterated you in a second if she was. You felt like you weren't in your body. She stood, wiping the blood from her face. You didnt remember hitting her that hard. Your mouth was dry, mind buzzing. Mor waved her hand again and the spear was gone. "Have all the power you want, Eris. Our deal has been struck. Send your forces to Rask by next week." She scowled at the body on the throne. The male you had just wished death upon. The reality of it made everything fuzzy. Eris was still pale, his eyes not looking away from his father. "We will see you there." He said, voice weak. Distant. You could only faintly hear Mor Winnow away. The roaring in your head was overwhelming. Your uncle dead on his throne. A hysterical laugh bubbled from Eris' chest. Only one, before you could catch his gaze and see the silent tears streaming down his cheeks. + "You killed the Queens and my father without consulting me first. I hardly think our deal was struck." Eris had been strange after his father's funeral. But for the first time since, you saw a glimpse of the old him. On the move to Rask, he had been that hollow shell he seemed like. Btu as soon as he laid eyes on Morrigan waiting at that tent, he seemed to put on more of a show. Inside the tent seemed too small. It was enormous, but with everyone inside it was too hot. Too cramped. The sun beating down did not help. The two Illyrians in the corner leering at you and Eris was not helping either. "A deal's a deal young Lord. I suggest you choose your words more carefully next time." Rhys winked. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hold back your tone. "You murdered him. I am being blamed for not guarding him well enough." Your reputation in the court had fallen. Several Royal court members had been rumoured of your position inside the court, if you should be banished because of the death. None of them knew what actually happened. You and Eris had agreed on a believable story though, whoever had murdered Tarquin's son also reached Beron the night of the funeral. "I did not murder him. My lovely cousin however, did." Rhys drawled with a cat-like grin. It made you see red. Azriel grinned behind him. Those creepy shadows of his seemed more transparent in the sun. Mor glanced to you, her eyes not betraying anything she felt of the kill. You were hoping she would show some remorse for the death. Heat roiled in your stomach at the lack of care. "Dont act so upset, Autumn." Rhys waved a hand, and you felt those clawd mental hands whisk across your shields. You snarled at him, reaching for your sword. You knew you couldnt win, even on your best of days. That didnt stop you though. Eris placed a hand on your arm. The two Illyrians had their siphon shields glowing in front of their high lord instantly. Rhys laughed calmly despite the tension in the room. "You did give Mor quite the cut however, and burn it seems. Call it revenge." He folded his hand on the desk, wiping away dirt that wasnt there. Azriel's siphons burned brighter. His wings tightened behind his back. Mor still showed nothing, only looking from her cousin to Eris. Tense, her shoulders and posture radiated the worry. The tension of the room. Eris' jaw locked. He pulled you, willing you to let it go. You weren't proud of the fight with Mor. You wanted Beron to have at least died in an honorable way. But in the recent years with him hardly leaving his seat at the throne or his room at the castle, it made the chance of him seeing battle again nearly impossible. "Maybe I should have done more." You muttered, sheathing your sword. The shadowsinger stepped forward, chest pushed out. His lips pulled back in a snarl, "Do not-" He began, voice a low threatening growl. "Azriel." Rhys said calmly, voice like honey. You grinned at the Shadowed one. Rhys sighed and waved his tattooed hand in the air. Wine glasses appeared on the table he sat at. "Let's begin the real discussion at hand." He said calmly, pouring a glass. You glanced to Eris. He hesitated, but strode forward, taking a glass and downing it. + Eris was nearly drunk by the time you helped him out of the tent. After the long hours of dribble and stale conversation about diving resources, you couldnt blame him for having a few extra glasses of wine. He tripped on the rug going out. You caught him, but noticed shadows lingering around his torso. "Get. Off." You hissed, Not looking back. The shadows lingered for just a moment, then skittered away. You heard something like a sigh come from one of them as you led your cousin to his tent.

#reader insert #enemies and allies #acotar #acotar fic

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

The Art of Shakiness

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: collegue AU, doctor AU, wee bit of angst, romance, fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 5.3K

A/N: I saw the pretty moodboard and asked dear Marie @iloveagain if I could attempt to write this for her! I hope so much you will like it, sorry it took me so long! I would appreacite any kind of feedback! I enjoyed this! ❤😭 and omg I apologise for the terrible name of the oneshot, I am very bad at names :(((

“Miss, your hand is trembling too much,” scolded the professor as he walked to your lab table where the dead frog was lying, his white belly cut open. He stood in front of you, tsk tsking at you as he shook his head disapprovingly. “How do you want to take out his spleen if your hand is trembling so much? It is a small organ surrounded with even smaller ones. You know a surgeon needs a steady hand.”

Pressing your lips together, sucking them in you didn't meet the eye of your professor, too ashamed to look at him and see the disappointment.

You have always been struggling with shaky hands, whether you were stressed or not. If you were stressed and held a thin piece of paper, you could be rest assured you wouldn't even be able to read from it, the paper shaking violently in your weak fingers. It was something you have been extremely self-conscious about, and you learned early on how to mask the discomfort on your face whenever you caught people staring at your shakiness. Of course, just like all the elementary school kids, you were no exception to jokes or teasing, but you could deal with that. Accepting the truth and being able to make fun of it was a mature treat of yours when you were young and unknown to the cruel human nature.

“Just look at the gentleman next to you,” pointed out the professor, his hand gesturing to no other than Byun Baekhyun himself. “Steady hands, precise clean cut, causing as little damage to the body as possible. Maybe you should learn from him.” He didn't even look at you as he continued his way down the path of lab tables, all filled with surgical equipment and focused (or rather stressed) students. “Just continue working, miss.”

Gritting your teeth, you tried hard not to give ANY attention to the male next to you. He was chuckling, while working through the intestines of the little animal. His hands were swift, steady and just like the professor described, precise. Although you would never admit it out loud, having steady hands on a male was something that could turn you on and have you stare at the steadiness of the hands for way too long. Plus point would always be, if those hands were handsome too.

But back to your main point.

You hated the male next to you. He was you working partner, sitting partner and there was not much you could do about it. He was a playful charmer, always getting the best (or worst?) out of you, driving you up the wall. He was the number one student in almost all practical seminars besides… well, general medicine. In that one class, you were the number one.

“It's cause all you have to do is memorizing,” he would retort.

Sure.

Of course.

You weren't aiming to be the number one student at all. No. He was competing with nonexistent competition.

Or was he?

Because maybe the utmost, infuriating fact about him was that he didn't have to as much as sit down and thoroughly study. No. He was the one, who could read the text once or twice and he would recite it backwards.

So, in the words of students and friends that you shared, he was a scarily intelligent genius.

And you had to agree, and you hated him for that. He was everything you weren't. He was relaxed, you were stressed. You were trembling, he was steady. You were angry, he was cheerful. You had different personalities because of which your exchange of opinions clashed. And as much as everyone adored him, you couldn't.

It was the presentation day.

Your stack of diligently prepared papers was lying on your table, ready to be presented to the audience consisting of your classmates and your professor, who definitely didn't listen to information about the consistency of DNA before at all (sarcasm). Heck, he was your professor. If there was anyone that knew his thing better about this subject, it was exactly him. So you researched and studied hard, went to various lengths to give a good impression. But there was one thing that was holding you back, a scar that was threatening to bust open once you stood in front of the big auditorium, your well-structured ppt screened on the vast wall behind you.

As you were holding the single piece of paper, ready to start, was when you noticed your stress had got the better out of you again. It was shaking, violently, and despite you being confident in your presentation skills, this threw you off guard.

The silence in the huge space was literally deafening, and you struggled to get your heart to beat in a regular pace again. You didn't want to show this side of you. For once, you wanted people to be awed at how good you were at this…

But it didn't work. No matter the determination, the desire and mental will power to control the paper and the shakiness, it did not stop. If anything, it would tremble even more.

Screaming inside, you just decided you wouldn't look at the paper, hoping your memory of the text you were supposed to present was still well engraved in your memory.

Taking a deep breath, you were about to start when someone cleared their throat and stood up. Someone. It was him. He was walking down the steps that led from his seat to the podium you were on, and you professor raised a questioning eyebrow at the slim figure that was now almost in front of you. Not even giving him a chance, you frowned, whispering: “What are you doing?”

Without a word, he handed you something. It was a clipboard. “Just take it. Use it,” was what he said, giving you an encouraging smile.

Staring at the clipboard, you saw his hand - the steady one, that was now trying to help you by easing your anxiety. “Stop staring and take it. You have an audience to impress,” he murmured but he was playful. Grabbing your hand, he pressed it into your sweaty palm. Before he let go of you, you felt his hand squeezing yours gently, causing your heart to jump painfully.

Winking, he turned around swiftly, and on his way back he spoke out loud to the class: “Our colleague forgot her support.”

Your professor chuckled and motioned for you to start. By hearing him chuckle, and then facing an encouraging face of Baekhyun who was now staring at you like a puppy with perked ears and a wiggly tail, you finally managed to have a peace of heart. Your hand got a bit steadier as you put the paper on the clipboard, and with no trace of shakiness haunting you, you presented.

He was always there to support you, yet you never gave it a thought. You never questioned his fond smile when he looked at you struggling with scalpel or when the memorizing of the muscles in latin wouldn't work well with your brain. You never even thanked him when he told you the easier ways to remember the difficult terms and you almost cut him open with your own scalpel when he helped you at autopsies.

Patiently, he would lean over the lab table you shared, his elbows on the surface as he clasped his handsome hands together. Wait. Did you just say handsome? N-no, you meant steady and good-look-NO! Just. Steady.

“And now grab the left side,” he murmured, his attention fully on the work at hand. His hot breath fanned the skin on your hand and the goosebumps caused a wave of shakiness overtaking your limbs.

“Woah,” he grabbed your hand gently before it would stab another organ. “Relax. We can't ruin-”

“I know,” you snapped, stepping away from the table and focusing your gaze upwards to ease the tension from focusing for too long. “I can't scratch the other organs, it needs to be precise, and I should take out the stomach, not the guts… I know it all, Baekhyun. You aren't the only knowledgeable person here.” You were still staring elsewhere, rolling your eyes to exercise the muscles.

Baekhyun frowned, not showing the hurt you caused with your snappy attitude. “I know you know,” he tried, straightening up to his full height, his lab coat in a funny angle around his broad shoulders. “I'm just trying to help. You only need to pass this one exam and then you don't have to do more autopsies, or surgeries.”

“No,” you replied resolutely. He went silent. “This isn't the only time. I want to be a surgeon, just like my father. I want to be as good as him.”

“You can do it,” he stated. He waited until you turn and finally look at him, but you didn't. It was making him sad to see you suffering and if it meant spending all his free time to help you, then so be it. “I know you can.”

“I can't! The professor will kick me out of this course at the exam!”

“Just trust yourself a little bit!” he insisted now, his voice louder as he took a hold of your shoulder, needing to see your eyes. He wanted you to see his, so that maybe you could understand.

Once you finally locked eyes with him, he spotted your teary eyes and he gasped softly, hating the view. He never saw you cry before.

“What?” you whispered, afraid to speak louder in case your voice would fail you. You already hated he was witnessing this side of you.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you suddenly shook your head in dismissal, shaking his hand off of your shoulder. “No, don't talk. Don't. I can't stand you right now.”

And you left.

Pff, that idiot kept being annoying even more after that day in the labs. He wouldn't stop pestering you, always doing silly stuff to try to tick you off and it would end up in him laughing at you. Yeah. You always knew he was no good news.

It was next week when you had the last autopsy seminar at 7am before the final exam. You came in earlier, your thoughts still sleepy but soon to be woken by your determined self to pass the course and prove the world that even people with the worst shakiness in their hands could become amazing surgeons.

Baekhyun was already there, preparing the equipment and checking his notes when he heard you enter the silent room. The smell of disinfectant hit your nose once again, and you suppressed the disgust and negative emotions that were tied to the smell.

“Good morning,” he smiled at you and let his gaze rest on you until you reached the table on the other side. When you didn't respond, only letting out a grunt, he frowned. “That isn't your seat.”

“Well, now it is.”

Once again, he tried not to show the hurt he felt at your actions. He always had you next to him; throughout all the labs he could keep a secret eye on your work and amend issues quickly when you weren't looking. But now, sitting too far away from him and the exam literally around the corner, you couldn't afford to make a mistake.

“You should get tissues from the toilets then,” he said, feigning ignorance as he focused his attention back on his doodles of corgi dogs that he was scribbling until you interrupted his diligent work - the one you mistook for him studying his notes. “The table's dirty and I saw a piece of a finger not far away.”

Hearing his monotone voice, you didn't know what scared you more - the information he was providing you and made you flinch away from the table, or his sudden cold attitude. He was never cold with you.

“Sure,” you replied, turning to leave, giving him one last glance before exiting.

Baekhyun, hearing your absence, quickly stood up and took his water bottle, successfully pouring it on the chair made of light wood. Good, he thought to himself smuggly. Thanks to the light colour, it would be difficult to spot the puddle and plus, it wasn't like people usually paid attention to the chairs they were about to sit on, right?

You returned with some toilet papers, and quickly cleaned the table up, although it wasn't as messy as Baekhyun told you it was. Getting rid of the dirty papers, you finally sat down, wanting to just move on and start preparing when you felt it.

Wet coldness made itself inside through the textile of your jeans, all the way to your underwear. Letting out a yelp, you jumped up, turning around to see that, indeed, there was a puddle on the chair that you failed to notice.

Chuckles coming from the side couldn't be stopped, more so when you locked eyes with Baekhyun's laughing ones, his eyes half-moons turned downwards as he couldn't keep it in anymore and he started to laugh out loud, his mouth wide open.

“You-” you let out, seething from anger. “You did this?!” you shouted, your face growing hot, as angry tears made their way to your eyes. Disbelief in his actions was an understatement. How could he do this to you? “Are you freaking nuts? BYUN BAEKHYUN!!!” you screeched, letting out a loud, high-pitched scream as you closed your eyes and kept screaming.

Stopping abruptly, you opened your eyes, huge tears falling out of them. Taking your bag, you made three quick, big steps towards his laughing figure only for him to stop, surprised at the sight of your tear-stained face. “You,” you leaned in, so, so close that his eyes widened at the proximity, his heart jumping fast. “I,” you re-started, breathing heavily as you pointed your finger at him, poking it into his shoulder. “I. Hate. You. And if I see you anywhere near me, I will end you.”

You didn't fail that exam. But your professor didn't forget to mention the difficulties you would have once proceeding on with your field of study - an orthopaedic surgeon.

It left you so utterly devastated, disappointed and just overall bitter about your whole studies that you ended up locked in your room for days, crying.

You made sure, whenever you had to go to school and attend exams, you would make great effort in ignoring Baekhyun, who was so shocked at your cold attitude. You not even batting an eyelash at him, and he, just like you, ended up being bitter. He missed you, missed your presence. Despite you being grumpy with him, he never wanted to lose you. He admitted he might have gone too far with the wet chair thingy… He thought…

What did he think?

Well, now he could see it didn't bring you back to him. It officially made you hate him and he was hopeless. Trying to start conversations with you was completely fruitless. Surprising you with bouquets of flowers on your table didn't work at all. It had only one plus: he could see you genuinely smile until you recognized him hiding behind the wall, watching your reaction and you would realize the gift was from him. As much as you were touched, and it may have made your heart flutter, you couldn't stop the frown. You would stand up, leaving the bouquet there for Baekhyun to sadly walk over and retrieve it, watching your leaving figure.

The next semester he never saw you in the classes again. Did you give up? Or did you take a semester off? No, you couldn't have given up! You came too far for you to give up!

Contacting you was not working; apparently you changed your phone number.

Why other friends knew this, but he didn't?

Did you really hate him so much?

And what was this pain he was feeling? The darkness that was surrounding him, caused by your absence… it was hurting too much. He missed you.

He was, in fact, the entire time, hopelessly in love with you.

And you...

You hated him.

5 years later

You were just walking down the corridor at your department, hands deep inside your pockets when you heard your name being called out. Turning, you saw your colleague Hana running down after you. “I have a huuuuuge favour to ask of you,” she sighed once she stopped in front of you, clutching her hip for support.

“What favour?” you asked, worried you might have to stay longer in the hospital again. Even though your department wasn't the one where overnight shifts were common (actually, extremely rare) but staying longer than 5-6pm was always tiring. “I have covered your ass way too many times, don't you think?”

Finally her breath evened out and she straightened up, giving you puppy eyes.

“No!” you pointed your finger at her. “Don't you dare do this to me!”

“Please!” she wailed, locking her hands together in a plea. “I swear this is the last time. Then you can order me around as much as you want.”

You sighed, pressing your index and middle finger to your temple, trying to ease the stress of the day. “You know I don't like ordering people around…”

“Whatever, you will have me at your mercy. But Sehun managed to get a reservation at this fancy restaurant-”

You heaved out another sigh, her words now completely draining you out. These people. Dating, meeting up, being romantic, intimate… everything that you barely ever experienced, and now as a working person, you swore you could say bye to finding any kind of love in your life. You work was your life. But you didn't love work. Did that mean you didn't love your life then...?

You waited until she finished and you gave her a grunt. “What do you want me to do? I can do the exercises with your patients if that's what you want.”

She smiled nervously, but shook her head slowly, obviously wary and suddenly hasty.

“What is it?” you frowned. “You are acting like I bite.”

She scratched the back of her neck, avoiding your gaze. “Well, it is a bit of an annoying work, that is why I am not the happiest about asking you…”

“You don't seem like it,” you scoffed.

She ignored you and went on: “Anyway. Remember there was this huge accident few weeks ago? With two parents and two kids... “

You nodded, already dreading what was coming. It was an absolutely horrendous car crash that had two parents falling out through the front window, leaving them in a terrible state, meanwhile the kids didn't get as much as a scratch. News reporters were flooding the hospital and there was a huge interest regarding the two parents who were now lying on the intensive care after going through lengthy, difficult and complex surgery.

“So both parents have trouble with walking as you know. They are now at the orthopedic department after getting another surgery few days ago.”

“Oh, I wasn't aware they moved them.”

“Well, yeah, because of the naggings from the TV stations it is being kept a secret. But anyhow… The boss put me under the recovery supervision. They require basic exercises to support muscle activity. Do you think you could go to the orthopedics department and do it for me?”

You were hesitant. Not because you didn't want to do it. Actually, you would gladly help that poor family that went through such tragedy. But there was something else holding you back.

After few seconds of tense contemplating, you finally nodded. “Okay. Alright. I will do it. Do you have the necessary documents?”

“Thank you so much!” she squealed, hugging you. “I prepared the docs, they are in the common room on my table.”

When you arrived at the orthopedics department, it was quiet given the time of the day you visited. Kindly asking for directions from the nurses, you finally found the patients in question. A doctor was turned with his back towards the entrance, tending to the patients and making small talk. You hesitated only for a second before entering, the doctor not familiar to you.

“You will soon fly, miss, forget about walking,” he joked as he laughed breathily and that was what made you freeze. That voice was familiar…

The patient's eyes fell on you, and that was what probably made Baekhyun turn in his spot, wanting to check who was behind him. His eyes locked with yours and you saw that his manly features that were now in a friendly smile froze as he took you in.

How many seconds have passed with both of you staring at each other? Why was this so painful?

You knew it.

You. Knew. It.

That he would be there.

But you still came to his department. Of course, if there was any department closer to orthopedics, it was yours - physiotherapy. You and your colleagues were the ones who put into practice what the surgeons in orthopedics pieced together. The two departments were so vital to each other, they would be almost inseparable.

“The nurse arrived,” chimed in a friendly voice of the father. “Welcome!”

“Our doctor is already bewitched, we see,” chuckled the mum as she exchanged looks with her husband lying on the bed next to her.

You cleared your throat, heat rushing into your cheeks, matching your pink lipstick that complimented your face, and your personality. Baekhyun would agree, without hesitation. Sweet. Smart. Pretty. And real. Right now. In front of him.

“I came to tend to the patients, following the post-surgery recovery.” You said, still staring at Baekhyun wide-eyed. “If you could brief me in on the details, I would appreciate that.”

You weren't sure what, but something was so different about him. It had been too long. Comparing him to the Baekhyun you saw last many years ago, he was now more chubby in cheeks, seemed very healthy yet buffed up in a way. Sporting a clean haircut with brownish hair, you could now see how his face stood out. Sparkly eyes were still the same. Lips, that were now slightly parted at the unexpected sight of you, still so, so honest when he finally let out: “Well, damn.”

He was their main surgeon. The youngest in the department. The youngest ever to accomplish such an outstanding surgery. And as you learned while you were doing exercises with his patients, he was also “very, very kind and even more funny.”

You chuckled, feeling warm inside. Yes. Just like you remembered him, even though at the time you never acknowledged him that way.

“You know, all the nurses are swooning,” whispered excitedly the wife as you gently took her leg and pushed it towards her chest slowly before straightening it back up. “But the way he went silent when he saw you - wow. Dr Byun never goes silent on people.”

“Trust me,” added the husband, winking at you from the other bed. “We have been here for a while to know.”

“Yes, you have been here way too long,” you heard the voice from the doors and you felt your heart skip a beat. He was leaning against the doorframe, amusedly listening. The husband and wife chuckled, while you calmly continued working. “You are finishing up now, right?” he asked, the question now directed at you.

You looked at him from behind your shoulder. “Yes. We will finish in a few minutes.”

He nodded, looking at the exercises for a bit before he cleared his throat again and straightened up. “Could you please see me in the office before you leave?”

Humming an approval, he left.

And so, when finished and parted ways with the kind patients, you found yourself in his office, sitting on a chair opposite him.

“You wanted to see me…” you mumbled, not sure what to make of him constantly gawking at you.

He shook his head slowly. “Ah, sorry. I wasn't… I never knew you are working in this hospital,” he started.

“Well, I am,” you smiled at him.

“You knew I was here,” he stated. “Yet you not once came to visit me. And, and… all those years ago you disappeared…” he trailed off, slight hurt still present in his features.

Sure, first loves always hurt. It wasn't a shame for him to admit he never really loved before he met you, as much as it was difficult to believe it.

“Yes, I changed my university and my major, too,” you replied. “So I graduated later than you. I never knew you worked here until recently when you became the youngest surgeon to be successful at such a difficult surgery.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked, curiosity eating him away. He always wanted answers and he thought he would never get them. But finally, finally you were here. He could reach out and touch you, if he as much as wished so. “I thought we were friends.”

“Baekhyun,” you sighed before coughing. You knew he was asking about the past. “I mean, Dr Byun. It was a difficult stage in my life. I don't want to talk about it. I'm happy to know and witness you are doing well though. You became something I could never become.”

“You would have made it,” he replied passionately, speaking your name with such intensity it made you lock eyes with him immediately. “I had you all covered. I wouldn't have let you leave if you only talked to me!”

You were speechless as he slightly raised his voice, but not in a bad way. There was something bothering him, and you gently smiled at the hunch you were getting. “You always made fun of me, did you forget? You were my rival. I couldn't just be friends with you when you were the one having everything I ever wanted.”

Baekhyun went silent, heaving out a breath after your confession. “I never saw you as a rival.” Not even once.

“That doesn't matt-”

“I missed you,” he cut in, not letting his stare falter, and also sick and tired of keeping his emotions at bay when he had you in front of him. “You disappeared on me. Now you are the one who is doing the post-production of my work. Yet, you aren't even on the papers for the patients.”

“Yes, my colleague asked me to come in for her,” you replied, but your mind was racing at his previously uttered words. He missed you. It was true then. You knew it all along, and he confirmed it now. He liked you back then. Did he still like you now? “But I won't be coming back, don't worry. It was only for today.”

Baekhyun's eyes dropped on the paper in front of him. “I would like you to be the physiotherapist for my patients.”

You frowned and followed his gaze. “You want to change my colleague?”

“Yes,” he replied, his gaze carefully analyzing your reaction. “You belong to one of the best from your sort. So I want you with me. Would you accept it?”

You were seeing him everyday, just like back in university days. He was very busy, many times you caught him studying books and sometimes he came to check up on the exercises and the way you were practicing. He wanted to learn from you, so he asked you many questions, which always made the two patients chuckle. His funny remarks and entertaining commentaries made you laugh so much it hurt your belly and soon enough, he would ask you to come to his office where you would chat a bit longer.

Finally, you saw him in a different light. No enemy. No one to steal your place. Because he was complementing your work and you his. Drinking coffee or tea, you finally told him everything that was happening in your life and why you made the decisions that you made and you carefully explained him the way you saw him at the time.

Annoying.

Stupidly funny, which basically equalled annoying.

Handsome, which basically equalled ugly and disgusting.

Steady handed genius, which basically equalled handsome idiot…

Caring, which meant your rival.

But now, you could read it all backwards, and you would get the results that you saw now, but back then couldn't, blinded by your competitiveness. Funny, steady handed genius, caring, friendly, handsome and manly, and now in his attire, the title of the surgeon he worked so hard for, sexy.

He dared to make the first joke about your shaky hands after many years, and you laughed with him and showed him, that indeed, you were still just as shaky as before. But now you were shaking because of the butterflies he gave you. Oh yeah, shaky all for him. He would kiss away your tremblings whenever he got a glimpse of them... And you just trembled even more.

Seeing things now from a different perspective, you felt ashamed and embarrassed about how you used to behave around him back at university while he liked you.

It was almost two months after you first met at the hospital when he pulled you back into his office as you opened the door and were almost out. He closed it once he had you pressed against the wall next to it and his only approval of his doings was your bright, happy smile when he slowly leaned in and gave you a longing kiss. Smirking, he wanted to pull away, not having other intentions when you grabbed him by his cheeks and brought him back, wanting more than just a peck.

He was frozen for a heartbeat, but once back to his senses, he grabbed you by your hips bringing your bodies closer as he opened your mouth and explored more.

“I might have had a dream about you last night,” you whispered to him, chuckling again and he couldn't help but follow your chuckles because, goodness, this was actually happening. Once again, your sweet lipstick that tasted like strawberries, matched the colour of your cheeks and the stars in your eyes when you looked at him made him want to squeal from happiness. Because he had been dreaming about you all along.

Secretly dating in a hospital full of gossiping nurses was a bit challenging for almost one year. But it became so unbearable and his secret visits at your department went almost unnoticed except the fact that a doctor like HIM had no business at YOUR department. It was always the physiotherapist that came to the surgeon.

“Baekhyun,” you giggled when he once again stepped into the common room of the physiotherapy department. You were just fetching yourself some tea for the short break before heading back to your work. Your colleagues gave you quizzical looks tinted with suspicion, but they had it all confirmed in a way; you two being a thing. It was all over your faces.

“Excuse me, I will have to steal her for a moment. Need to discuss a patient,” he exclaimed shamelessly before waiting for you patiently at the doors as you made your way to him with your cup of tea. Once out in the corridor, he looked around before taking the hot cup out of your hand, putting it on the floor quickly and grabbing you by your waist to give you a huge, loud kiss. You should have fought with him but you were past that stage. Let everyone see.

The college sweethearts, was what you heard in the gossips after you talked to Hana, telling her how you and Baekhyun first met.

Looking up at Baekhyun as he was smiling at you affectionately before leaning in for another kiss, you could confirm that it was true. College sweethearts. And now, lovers.

“I love you,” he whispered into your mouth.

Hugging him, you meant it when you closed your eyes and your lips brushed his ear: “And I love you, my dear.”

Him, the best orthopedic surgeon.

You, the best physiotherapist.

The iconic duo of the hospital.

❤

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