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dark9896 · 1 year

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Interrogation [Everyone x Reader]

Requested by Anonymous 💬

The effort of knocking the target out left you feeling a little more bitter than normal. Though making sure everything was taken care of afterward would be a bit of a problem. You just weren't sure if it would be needed... yet.

"Let's just grab him and go." You didn't bother offering to pick up the man, "If I stand next to this gluten-free salad any longer, then I'm gonna start losing brain cells."

Klaus didn't hesitate, carefully lifting the enemy. Though Steven and K.K. were arguing about where to take them. As much as Klaus wanted to stop the fighting, it was you who had a plan.

"I know a place." You spoke up from where Leo and Zapp were arguing again, "It isn't that far either."

Chain landed on Zapp's shoulder, forcing him to fall over, "Good to know. But where specifically?"

"Couple blocks." You shrugged, "Not too far."

You had never shown anyone this apartment. It was for emergencies only. At least the cover stories were airtight. Not a single person in the nearby area could get hurt by this. And not a single one would question the number of people entering the apartment. Even if one looked like they just came from fight club.

~~~~~

Everyone looked around the simple apartment. Scented candles, soft tones, and not a single hidden compartment for weapons. No one expected this to be your apartment. Not even your lover knew about this place. And they were deeply concerned about just... why you had this and never told them at all.

Though, you didn't have the time to explain before your information target woke up. His wrists tied down to a chair, not allowing any kind of movement despite how much he tried.

"Oi!" He yelled, "Do whatever you want to me! You sprung a wild trap! My boss will find me and then this place will--!"

You couldn't take all these cliche statements. Slapping the man against the protests of Klaus and forcing him, almost forcing them all, to face what was going on.

"I rented this place on a shell corporation. My mail goes to another apartment building." You sneered down, "My neighbors think my name is Karume. My coworkers think my name is [Full Name]."

"[Name]," Klaus didn't know how to feel about this. Yes, everyone had their secrets, but a whole double life? "What of your neighbors? They could become accidental victims of this..."

No one knew what to say or think, not really. But the look on your face seemed to suggest you knew what you were doing. And it was true, here you typically acted like a meek, shy person. And in a building of tough strongmen, that meant you were perfectly safe.

Though you knew if you didn't explain something to Klaus and Steven at the very least then things could come crashing down. And so Steven and K.K. took over interrogation while Zapp dug around for some kind of booze.

Joke was on him though, you didn't even keep wine coolers here.

Once out of earshot, you turned to Klaus. He was clearly worried about you. Learning you had this place at all was quite a shock. It wasn't quite a betrayal, but it was something he didn't like to think about.

"[Name], What is this place for?" His hands were wringing themselves, "Your neighbors could be in serious trouble with all of us being here. Not to mention the tracking chip Leonardo confirmed to be in his neck."

"Easy big guy." You patted his arm, "This place is so far removed from Libra that it might as well be wrapped in a conspiracy, deep fried in a cover-up, and smothered in one of those tacky barbeque sauces that no one likes."

Klaus blinked a few times, visibly confused.

"It means that, at most, they'll find us." You sighed, "But they'll think we took pity on him and just wanted to help a poor man off his feet."

Klaus turned, that made sense on some level. He wanted to believe you, but something in the back of his mind just wouldn't rest. Though, the situation currently playing out was mostly to blame as Klaus could see the benefits of having something like this as a back up plan.

It wasn't long before Zapp caught ahold of your shoulders, "Alright Steven 2.0, I'll bite. Where do you keep the good drinks?"

"I don't keep alcohol here."

"Hanh!?" Zapp pushed off you, "What do you mean you don't keep alcohol here? What kind of hideout doesn't have booze?"

"The kind meant to keep a low profile, sparky."

Zapp rolled his eyes, "So why on Earth even have it?"

"Just in case." You sighed, "Ya know, when sh^t hits the fan."

"Bah!"

Zapp walked off as quickly as he showed up, waving you off like your place should meet his requirements. Not that anyone else was making any fuss over what was and wasn't around.

Though a loud smack from the living room caught your attention. Just barely having missed running right into Klaus on your way back into the room, you saw K.K. being physically held back by Steven and Zed, one arm raised over her head and both feet kicking wildly.

"K.K.! Relax! He's out cold." Steven gasped, "Why is this harder than the fight with the guy!"

You and Chain couldn't help but snicker at them. Though it would be far more difficult to get information when he wasn't awake. Unless Leo did a little snooping with his eyes.

Not that he could really pinpoint the information needed. Meaning the best you could do was prep a pot of coffee and hope for him to re-awaken soon. Though Steven cornered you quickly.

"[Name], I'm no stranger to keeping secrets." He leaned against the counter, "But none of us even knew you had a place like this."

"It's all legal if that's what you're asking." You folded your arms, "I wouldn't bring any of you here if it wasn't."

Steven nodded, setting his cup on the counter, "Why would you bother keeping this place like this? Other than situations like this."

"Sometimes I just need a place to exist, ya know? No expectations or anything." You sighed, "Sometimes that's here, sometimes that's my place. Just depends on me."

Steven nodded, "Yeah. I understand what you mean. Just a little worried about why."

You nodded. After having spent most of the day placating everyone, assuring them this was perfectly okay. Sadly Leo and Zed weren't convinced as easily as Klaus or Steven. But at least Chain wasn't trying to ask a million questions.

K.K. however, was not going to let that slide.

"Explain this now!" She had you trapped in a corner, "And none of that running around you normally do [Name]."

You sighed, "It's just a little backup plan for stuff like this. Nothing more."

It felt like K.K. was trying to stare into your soul. One eye against two as she kept backing you into the corner.

"I swear," You couldn't do more than raise your hands in surrender, "It's just a hideaway home. Only meant to wait in the wings for things like this."

The soft moan from K.K. as she tried getting more out of you was tense. You weren't sure why she was directing this toward you and not the target, because this kind of interrogation would probably make the guy crack in three seconds.

#bbb #kekkai sensen #kkss #blood blockade battlefront #klaus von reinherz #steven starphase #zed o'brien #zapp renfro #leonardo watch #chain sumeragi #kk #ask

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glassartpeasants · 2 years

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O̷̡̢̢͈̙̻̜̹͐̆̆̃͗̋̉͐̃̐̍̌͝u̸͕̤͚̥͎͎͙͋̐̾͘ŕ̶͍̊̋̆̈̅͊̎̓̈́͝ ̷̤͖͎͓̜͉̲̉̐̓͑̕L̶̡̫̬̗͔̹̭̳̏̄̔̇̆͌͂̒̈́̚ͅi̸̼͓͒̉̿͒̊̃̌̈̽̓̓̚͠t̸̖̠̞̳̘̣͇͈̰̭̹̪̱̊e̶̟͎̹͚̤͉̫̣̟̓̽̊̍̎̑̂̽͌̉̊̐͜ŗ̴͍̳̬̩̪̗̩̙̳̣̮̓̉̇̈́́̀̉͗̈́̿͗̌̈́a̴͈̘͓̮̟͖͇̖̙͙̤͌̂͐̓̎ͅt̵̗̯̗͚̳̗̲̩̥̺̬͈̭̣̓̾́̿͒̏͋͛͐̂͗̆u̸̼͉͓̪̒͒̊͊̂͊͛̋̎͝r̸̞̭̝̮̗̪̳̞̩̍̈́́̾͠ę̶̲̜͉̲͍̲̥̞̰̳̄ ̷̢̙̥͎̟̲̝͇̯̮̖̞̫̼͍̈́̂͋̿͋͊́̀̊̄̚͠͝͠Ç̶̣̗̰̬̰̍̒̎̌͋̅̕ļ̴͎̱̿͆͆͛̒̽͌̇̆̇̚u̴̧̪̞̪̝͕̯̬̳͎͆̆ͅb̵̨̧̨͙͙̤͚̜̝̟͖̰̀̾̈́̓̌̋̒͛͘͜͝ͅ

SPOILERS FOR DOKI DOKI LITERATURE CLUB

Kai Chisaki-Monika

Tomura Shigaraki-Natsuki

°¤◇》-○☆▪︎《♡•

Hari Kurono-Yuri

Reader-MC

Warnings: self harm, mentions of masterbation

A/N: Jesus it's been what, almost a year and a half since I've uploaded one of these? I guess I didn't really continue to cause not many people seemed to like it so I wanted to work on other things but I just got the motivation to do it again.

~~~

Chapter 14: The Other Side of Hari

~~~

You spent all morning making your poem as you forgot to last night. You were just so tired that you didn't have the energy to do anything. So you quickly just bumbled up a poem that would make you sound like at least someone who knows what they're doing. With that being said, you quickly grabbed your poem and ran to the school like your life depended on it.

~~~

When the school day ended you walked towards the clubroom. Happy to see everyone once again. As soon as you walked in the door Hari was the first one to greet you.

"Hi, (Y/N)! I've been waiting for you. Are you ready to continue reading from yesterday? I even brought my best tea today-"

"Kai! I told you not to! Ugh, is he really late AGAIN?"

"Inconsiderate as usual, Tomura."

"Excuse me?"

"Must you always interrupt my conversations with your incessant yelling?"

"What are you talking about?! You say that like I do it on a regular basis or something. I just wasn't paying attention, okay? I'm sorry. Seriously...what's gotten into you lately?" Tomura's face dropped a little and you couldn't help but feel a little bad as he was only stating that Kai was late once more.

"Me? N-Nothing..."

"..."

"Is it really that bad...?"

"See it is something."

"I'll get over it! It's not even anything noteworthy...I've just been feeling on edge lately...A-Anyway, we don't need to talk about it!" You shot Tomura a confused glance and he sent one back just as quickly. Both confused and wondering what could be going on with Hari.

"Well, I just felt like I needed to bring it up. It's not like I care or anything..."

"Aw, man...I'm the last one here again!"

"Well, (Y/N) just walked in too." Way to throw you under the bus.

"Were you practicing piano again?"

"Yeah...ahaha."

"You must have a lot of determination. Starting this club, and still trying to make time for piano..."

"Well, maybe not determination...but I guess passion! It motivates me to work hard for the festival and...um..."

"..."

"Right...I-I forgot."

"Um, about that Tomura...We were all talking yesterday, and we decided that we would like to support the festival as well. However, I understand how you feel about not wanting the club to change. I think we all kinda feel that way. So as long as we're all working together, this club will never become something we don't want."

"..."

"Um, also...If you help us out with the festival, then I will personally buy you new manga!"

"...Ahahaha! Sorry that last part was really funny. Look, I did some thinking about yesterday. I was a little more hostile than I meant to be...I guess I just felt threatened or something. But this is something we're doing together. Another new member wouldn't hurt, as long as they're cool...And I guess another boy would be nice this time. But more importantly, I would hate to see the event just suck because I chose to back out! I'm a pro you know! So I'm going to help too, and we'll make sure it's done right."

"Thank goodness...Isn't that great Kai?"

"Kai?"

"Ah-Yeah, that's wonderful! It wouldn't be the same without you, Tomura." When Kai turned to face you all, you noticed that he seemed a bit nervous. You just brushed it off thinking he was nervous about the festival.

"Anyway, (Y/N)...What do you want to do today? I was thinking we could-"

"We already have plans today."

"Ah. Is that so, Hari?"

"That's correct. (Y/N) is already engaged in a novel that we're reading together. Aren't you glad I've already gotten them into literature, Kai?"

"I...I suppose...I was just-Actually it doesn't matter. It really doesn't. You guys can do whatever you want."

"Y̵̫͈̎̈̾E̵͈̱̋̅S̴̪̼̅͋̒̈!"

"Um...Thank you for understanding, Kai." While you were happy to read with Hari, it seemed Kai was so sad that you couldn't hang out with him instead. Now that you think of it, you have been spending more time with everyone except him. You promised yourself that you would make it up to him one of these days. But for now, all you could do was sit next to Hari and read together.

"Actually, I have a request. Do you mind if I make some tea first?"

"Not at all."

"Thank you very much. If there's one thing that can make my reading time here any better, it's a nice cup of tea. Not to mention yourself as well." Hari wasted no time in getting up to make his way to the closet. You follow him and watch him retrieve a relatively small water pitcher from the back shelf with a filter already inside it.

"Can you hold this for a second?"

"Sure..." He hands you the water pitcher and also gathers the electric kettle.

"I'm going to plug this in at the teacher's desk, and then I'll go get some water." He scurries past you and sets down the kettle on the teacher's desk. You watch his movements and noticed that the way he moves completely contrasts his speaking mannerisms.

"Okay hand me the water pitcher. Thank you, I'll be right back."

"Ah, I might as well walk with you..."

"T-That's okay! You stay here! It won't take too long!" Hari almost runs out of the classroom with the pitcher in his hand.

"Ah...Did Hari leave you again?" You heard Kai talk to you, causing you to move your head in his direction.

"No, it's not like that this time. He just left to grab some water so he could make tea."

"Oh, okay! Sorry for the misunderstanding-"

"It's cool, it's sweet that you seem worried haha." Despite his mask, you could see the wide smile that spread across Kai's face.

~~~

Ten minutes have passed. Hari said that it wouldn't take long. Is something holding him up? The water fountain broke so he had to go farther to get one? You got bored waiting for him so you got up out of your chair to go look for him.

"Let's see..." The most logical place to find him would be at the water fountain. You make your move down the hallway when you hear something ahead of you.

"Ahaha...hahaha. Haah...haah..." What the hell was that noise? It seems to be coming from around the corner...It sounds like...breathing?

"Khhh-" You could hear a sharp inhale as if someone sucked the air through their teeth. They sounded like they could be in pain. You turn the corner and peer around it.

"Hari?"

"AH-" One quick look at him and you realized what was taking him so long. There were dozens of freshly made cuts underneath his sleeves, still bleeding as some dripped onto the tiled floor. There were even scars from where old ones resigned.

All of a sudden ringing blasted through your head. The world around you seemed to like it was spinning at 360 miles an hour. You held your hands over your ears as you struggled to stay a foot. You felt like vomiting before your conversation with Hari replayed in your mind but just with screaming tones. You closed your eyes for a split second just to avoid the dizziness around you but as soon as you opened them again, you were in the classroom with Hari in front of you.

"I'm back. Thanks for waiting patiently. (Y/N), do you like oolong tea?"

"Ah...um...sure..." Your mind was still spinning. there was no way you imagined such a thing as gruesome as that. Not to mention it felt like your head was still spinning to the point where you wanted to pass out and die.

"Very well." Hari is quick to set the temperature to 200 degrees.

"Now it's time to get the teapot."

"You really love to do this properly don't you?" You say trying to sound like you weren't feeling like you were losing your mind.

"Of course. I shouldn't do any less when I'm making tea for others."

"Even if I'm not an expert and won't know the difference?"

"Uh-huh. In that case, you'll be even more impressed."

"Ah, perhaps I will!" Hari fetches the teapot and starts to measure the tea leaves. He even starts to hum a little tune to himself to your surprise.

"You must be in a better mood now."

"Is that so? I was letting it show and you noticed? I was doing a bit of thinking and decided that I would try expressing myself more than I used to. turns out it's not hard for me to do. When it's you who's around, anyway."

"Ah... that's great Hari Just don't push yourself too much."

"You're always worrying about me (Y/N)...it's very endearing."

"That's..." Hari wasn't kidding. You didn't know if you could keep up with this! You thought to yourself as you watch Hari pour a cup of tea.

"(Y/N), I have another request if you don't mind. Could we sit on the floor today?"

"Uh sure. Why if you don't mind me asking?"

"It just sounds a little more relaxing. It might even be nicer than the hard chairs."

"Yeah, that sounds good!" Hari proceeds to sit down with the tea as you retrieve the book before sitting down next to him.

"Oh hey I have some chocolates as well!" You grab the bag of small chocolate candies. You decide to take them to share with Hari cause you tend to forget that you have food in your bag.

You both sit down with your backs against the wall. Each of you holding one half of the book. Except for this time both of your bodies were closer than before.

"I can't see too well." Hari slides closer to your body until your shoulders are touching. How were you supposed to focus when you could feel his body heat next to yours? Hari always had this mysterious charm to him that you couldn't seem to get rid of.

"Your teacup." He hands you your teacup. You look over and your holding in your hand that's not holding the book. You ended up in a position that made it even harder to focus. Because now you had to make sure you didn't spill it on yourself or the book, hell you didn't want to spill it on Hari either. You look at him and notice that all he's doing is reading the page with intent. You use all your willpower to focus on reading. After a few minutes, you finally managed to relax a little. You put your teacup between your legs and grab chocolate. You fumbled with the wrapper while trying to get it uncovered. You accidentally bumped Hari's chest in the process.

"Oh my bad, I'm sorry." You briefly let go of the book just to finish unwrapping the chocolate.

"You can have as much tea as you like."

"Oh I wasn't getting any, I was just unwrapping some chocolate. Do you want one?

"That's okay."

"Eh, are you sure?"

"If I touch it, then it might get smudges on the pages..."

"Oh, your right. Can't believe I didn't even think about that. My bad again."

"No need to apologize. I'll hold the book okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Hari opens the book with both hands and stares at it calmly. Almost as if he forgot that you were there. He seems to be holding it so that you don't have a harder time reading from it. But as a result, his left arm is practically resting on top of your leg.

"Well if that's the case." Hari is still totally focused on reading the book. You take chocolate and pop it into your mouth. You then take another chocolate and hold it up to Hari's mouth. He doesn't even look away from the book before parting his lips as if the situation was completely natural. You smile and gently place the chocolate in his mouth. Just like that he closes his lips over it and proceeds to read.

"Eh?" Hari's expression suddenly breaks.

"Did you...did I just?" Hari looks at you like he needs to confirm what just happened. Hari eats the chocolate quickly before his face turns shades of red.

"Um...(Y/N)."

"S-Sorry! I guess I shouldn't have done that...I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"A-Ah..." Hari starts to breathe heavily.

"I...I can't. (Y/N)..." Before you could even think, Hari grabs your arm and jerks you to your feet. While being jerked up, your teacup is knocked over.

"(Y/N)...My heart..."

"My heart won't stop pounding (Y/N)...I can't calm down. I can't focus on anything anymore...! Can you feel it, (Y/N)?" Without hesitation, Hari grabs your hand and presses it to his chest. The room suddenly feels heavy and seems to be getting darker. You want to look around but you couldn't stop staring at the man in front of you.

"Why is this happening to me? I feel like I'm losing my mind! I can't make it stop! It even makes me not want to read. I just want... to look...at YOU." Hari's eyes went wide as he looked at you with an emotion you couldn't quite describe. He scoots in closer to you so that your chest was almost touching. The room felt like it was shaking to the rhythm of a heartbeat.

"...Haah..."

The room felt like it was closing in on you as Hari only seemed to stare at you more. His eyes bore into your soul as if he wanted to take it for himself.

"...Haah..." The sound of him breathing heavily made shivers run up your back. You just felt like you couldn't even move as you just stared at him back.

"...Haah..." As soon as the last sound escaped him, the darkness left and Hari jumped away from you. The shaking of the room seemed to stop and Kai came out of nowhere. It felt as if nothing happened at all.

"U-Um...It's time to share poems..."

~~~

You didn't know who to share with first. In the end, you decided to go with Hari. Just to see if he was doing better than five seconds ago.

"Finally...ahaha." Hari holds your poem to his face and a smile stretches across his face.

"I love it. I love everything about it. (Y/N), I want to take this home. Will you let me keep it? Please?"

"Sure I don't care..."

"Ahaha, your too nice to me (Y/N). I've never met anyone as nice as you. I could die...N-Not really, but-! I just don't know how to describe it! It's okay to be feeling this way, right? It's not bad, right?"

Hari clutches your poem deeply to his chest.

"I'm going to take this home with me and keep it in my room. I hope it makes you feel good when you think about me having it. I'll even take good care of it!"

"I̸'̸l̸l̶ ̸e̸v̵e̸n̸ ̸t̴o̸u̶c̴h̶ ̵m̵y̵s̸e̷l̵f̵ ̷w̷h̸i̶l̸e̶ ̷r̷e̵a̴d̸i̷n̴g̷ ̵t̶h̶i̵s̷ ̵o̸v̷e̶r̴ ̸a̸n̷d̶ ̴o̴v̶e̴r̷ ̶a̶g̵a̸i̶n̵!̴ I̶'̵l̶l̴ ̷g̴i̶v̷e̸ ̴m̴y̷s̷e̴l̵f̸ ̴p̸a̴p̶e̴r̵c̸u̶t̸s̴ ̷j̷u̸s̷t̴ ̴s̵o̷ ̶y̴o̶u̴r̵ ̷s̷k̷i̵n̴ ̴o̵i̸l̸ ̸c̵a̴n̵ ̵e̴n̵t̷e̶r̷ ̴m̷y̵ ̸b̸l̸o̴o̴d̶s̴t̷r̴e̵a̸m̸!̶H̵A̷H̴A̶H̵A̸" Hari's eyes went wide as you felt yourself trying to walk away from him. Those eyes were terrifying in a way that made you want to run and hide.

"Here! You can have my poem too!" without a second thought Hari shoves his poem into your chest as well.

"Besides, after you read it, I know you're really going to want to keep it. Read it! I can't wait any longer. Hurry, read it!"

The moment you look at the poem you notice the small droplets of blood that seemed to be smeared or left to dry on the paper. You couldn't even read the writing and it wasn't like any type of poem you've seen from Hari before. The weird feeling that happened only moments ago seemed to be coming right back at you. You couldn't even read all of it in fear of what bodily fluids you might find on the next page or even what insanity Hari has written.

You go to put the paper down and the whole classroom was dark again. With the heartbeat rhythm shaking the classroom once more. The feeling of dread filled your body once again once you noticed that Hari was standing so close to you that you could feel his breath. His eyes wider than saucers as he stared at you.

"Do you like it? I wrote it for you! In case you couldn't tell the poem is about Ỵ̶̢̞̘̟̋́̽̾̑́͂̆͋̓͜͜͝͝F̸͚͔̘̣̜̘̗̣͇̀̔̓̿̔̈̄̐́̕G̴̰̮̻̺̲̈̅̓̒ģ̶͖̭͕̎̽͋̎͗̏̽̇̈͛͋͑͝ͅJ̸̧̨̛̟͕̠̗͇̗̄̂̑͆̉̈́́̃̊́̾͒͜Ȩ̷̡̩̣̙̬̗̙͚̮̄̀̈̾͆͊͊̈́͊̅̚͝ͅY̷̡͔̰̲͖̩͉͋̊̾̏͆̏̏͗͝ḩ̴̧̞͔̤̲̘̞̫̙̙͛̽͋̓̀͆̈f̵̛̼͈̯̭̞͚̫́̊͒̈́̓̎̊͘͘h̴̨̬̞̖́̂̽̏͗́̃̈́̾͛͠j̷̺̩̝͇̣̻̳̿̒s̷̞̝̘̬͍̻̬̻̩̠̉̊̋́͒̋̓͗̕̚͝ȳ̷̢̤̭̤͍̏̏̌̽͝ẖ̴̟̞̻̮̺̪̼̝̪͓̀̓̂͜U̵̬͓͎͉̒̓͊́͆͗͋́̅̂̓ͅͅJ̶̢̢̟͍̹̻͇̫̼̠͐̀͆̌̅͂̿̿̆̕G̶̡͕̦̥̹̖͉̦̖͎̞͌́̏͂̔̄͊͗͒̚B̶̟̫̼͌̀̌̋̽̃̀͝͝J̴͚̥̜͍̹͍̘̼̿́̈́̀͒̍͜V̷̢̧̨̨̛͔̜̱͔̣̥̄̈̄̀͜͝Ṇ̶̛̰̑̂̑̿̈́͐́̿̚̚͠ͅF̶̨̛̦̬͔̭̻̰̝͙̞̋̅̃͐̊͋͋̈̈̚͜͝͠H̸̯̬̐͆̓̒̚̕͝M̶̼̜͚̠̈̊̄͝͝j̵̟̟̹̹̼̎h̷̨̛̼͍̬̼̤̭̻̤̞̎͐̃͋̓̃̀j̸̺̓͊̇͐͆̔́͗̂̈͂͝n̸̨͍̼̫͇̝͈͓̞̗͕̈́̍̆̇̈̏̎̓͐̿͂͝h̴͚̹͕͉͙̞͘f̵͎̂͌̈́̈́̐̇̐̈́̈́͊̌ǵ̶̦̓͐̌͑̒̂̓̕͝J̶̦̲̩̱͔͍̥̀N̷̤̱̬͚̿̂̓F̵͎͇̝̜̒̓̃ͅN̶̘̖͕̜͓̭͇̰̞͕͓̆̔̆̀͒́̅͠ͅG̶̡̮͎͈̦̙̭̈́̌̓̈̀̍Ĵ̵̨̧̥̳͖̻̘̭͍̻̳̇͂̎̌͂̒̀͂́̒̕Ḃ̸̨͙͉Ḿ̷̧̯̫̫͈̗̼̱̞͇̝̘͌g̷̛̛̩̊̽̈͋̚"

"More importantly, I've endowed it with my scent. See, aren't I the most thoughtful person in the club?" Just like that Hari seemed to freeze and jump back. His face filled with horror as he quickly looks to the side. The darkness and shaking stopped as soon as he moved away from you.

"...I..."

"I think I'm...going to vomit." Before you could say anything Hari drops your poem and runs out of the club room. Picking it up you couldn't help but feel a weird sensation of being watched. You decided to just take a deep breath before going to the next person. You swore you were losing your mind.

"(Y/N), I think you saw something earlier that you weren't supposed to see. I didn't want to have to tell you this but I don't think I have a choice."

"It's getting kind of dangerous for you to spend so much time with Hari. I don't know why, but he seems to be easily excitable when he's around you..."

"Which shouldn't be a problem in itself. But when Hari gets too excited, He finds someplace to hide and starts to cut himself with a pocket knife. Isn't that kind of messed up? He brings a different one to school every day. Like he has a collection or something. It's definitely not because he's depressed or anything like that! I think he just gets some kind of high off it. It might even be, like, a sexual thing...but the point is you've kind of been enabling him. I'm not saying it's your fault though. You didn't know, but I suppose that's why I had to explain it all to you. So I think it would probably be best for him and you if you kept your distance from one another. While you're at it, don't be shy to spend a little more time with me...To put it lightly, I at least have it all together in my head. And I know how to treat my club members in a way that won't scare them."

"Well, I guess we don't need to worry about your poem since Hari took it before anyone else could read it. I guess whatever. I won't stop him. As for mine, I worked really...really hard on this poem so...I hope that it's effective. Here goes nothing." Kai hands you the poem and for a split second, you hear white noise in your head as the room gets pitch black. You could feel your body shaking as you looked at his poem. You couldn't even read it as your eyes wouldn't focus on a thing. Next thing you knew you felt a gloved hand place a finger under your chin. Looking up you notice Kai staring at you with adoring eyes.

"Guess I kinda messed up at writing this poem. I was just trying too..." As soon as he placed his finger under your chin, he let it go and looked away from you.

"Never mind... Let's just move on." You stare at him in a bit of shock before blinking and noticing you were standing in front of Tomura.

"What you already gave your poem to Hari? He took it and wouldn't let us read it at all! Not that I wanted to!" You rub the back of your neck before trying to come up with an explanation.

"I don't think I could have asked for that poem back if I tried. That grip was tighter than hell. I promise you Tomura, That if I wish you would have been able to read it."

"Hmph! Fine. I guess I'm going to share my poem with you anyways. Just read it carefully okay?"

'I don't know how else to bring this up. But there's been something I've been worried about. Hari has been acting strange lately. You've only been here a few days so you might not know what I mean. But he's not normally like this. He's always been quiet, polite, and attentive...things like that.

Okay, this is really embarrassing but I'm forcing myself to suck it up. The truth is, I'm REALLY worried about him. But if I try talking to him, he'll just get mad at me again. I don't know what to do. I think you're the only person he'll listen to. I don't know why. But please try to do something. Maybe you can convince her to talk to a therapist.'

I've always wanted to try being better friends with Hari, and it really hurts me to see this happening. I know I'm going t hate myself for admitting this but right now I don't care I just feel so helpless. SO please if you see you can do something to help. I don't want anything bad to happen to him. I'll make you cupcakes if I have to. Just please try to do something.

As for Kai...I don't know why, but he's been really dismissive about this. Like he wants us to ignore it. So I'm mad at him right now, and that's why I'm coming to you about this. DON"T LET HIM KNOW I WROTE THIS!!! Just pretend I gave you a really good poem okay? I'm counting on you. Thanks for reading.'

You put down Tomura's poem and looked him in the eyes only to see that his face was pale white and no facial features were to be seen anywhere. The same feeling of fear hit you once more. Shivers racked your whole body.

"I̶ ̸c̴h̴a̷n̴g̵e̴d̵ ̶m̷y̶ ̷m̵i̴n̷d̴.̵ ̴I̸g̸n̶o̵r̷e̵ ̸e̵v̶e̵r̷y̸t̴h̸i̸n̴g̷ ̶y̴o̶u̴ ̴j̴u̶s̴t̶ ̴r̷e̵a̷d̸.̶ ̵T̴h̶e̸r̶e̶'̷s̴ ̸n̶o̴ ̷p̵o̵i̵n̵t̵ ̵i̴n̵ ̵t̵r̷y̷i̶n̵g̸ ̵t̶o̵ ̶h̸i̷d̸e̴ ̴i̵t̷ ̸a̷n̴y̸m̸o̶r̵e̷.̶ ̷I̵t̷'̵s̷ ̶H̸a̴r̵i̶'̴s̸ ̶o̴w̷n̶ ̵f̷a̶u̸l̵t̵ ̴t̴h̴a̶t̴ ̸h̸e̷'̶s̸ ̶s̴o̴ ̴u̵n̵l̶i̸k̸e̵a̶b̷l̶e̵.̷ ̷C̶a̸n̵ ̷y̴o̴u̴ ̸h̵e̷a̷r̷ ̸m̵e̴ ̶(̴Y̶/̴N̴)̷?̸ ̸I̶f̷ ̷y̴o̵u̸ ̷w̵o̶u̵l̶d̵ ̵l̵i̵k̸e̴ ̷t̵o̶ ̸s̶p̸e̴n̴d̷ ̷m̸o̷r̸e̴ ̸t̴i̸m̶e̵ ̶w̴i̶t̵h̸ ̸K̸a̸i̶,̴ ̸a̴l̶l̴ ̶t̵h̶e̵s̸e̴ ̵p̶r̶o̴b̵l̸e̶m̷s̶ ̵w̵o̸u̷l̷d̵ ̷g̴o̴ ̶a̸w̴a̴y̶.̴ ̵H̴a̸r̴i̵ ̷a̸n̶d̵ ̶I̴ ̴a̸r̵e̶ ̸j̸u̶s̴t�� ̸t̷o̶o̵ ̸m̴e̴s̴s̸e̴d̷ ̶u̶p̸ ̵t̵o̸ ̴b̷e̵ ̷w̸i̷t̸h̸ ̸s̷o̴m̴e̸o̶n̴e̶ ̶a̵s̵ ̶w̶o̵n̵d̸e̷r̶f̵u̵l̴ ̸a̴s̴ ̵y̷o̴u̶.̸ ̴J̵u̸s̸t̷ ̶t̵h̵i̶n̸k̴ ̵o̶f̷ ̶K̶a̴i̶ ̵f̷r̵o̵m̸ ̶n̴o̶w̷ ̷o̶n̸.̴"

J̴u̷s̵t̷ ̷K̵a̶i̸

J̷̘̕ǘ̶̩s̸̼̀t̶͈́ ̷̬́K̷͇͊ḁ̴͑i̴̯͝

J̸͕͎͉͓̍̐Ṵ̷̞̩͕͂̉͐S̶̢̳̤͕͈̟̩̀̚͝T̶̎̀ͅ ̸̛̫̝̱̦̻̦͌̊͐͒̿͒̚Ķ̸̧̰̟̟̙̩̱̳̌͝A̸̡̨̬͔̯̙̻̜̤̣̋̓̎̀̐̾͝Ỉ̶̛̺̊̈́̎

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latteunwoo · 3 years

Text

friendly rivalry || j.ww + k.sy

↪ What happens when two best friends end up going after the same girl? Will one of them be able to win her heart? Will their friendship be in danger?

pairing: oc x wonwoo; oc x hoshi; oc x ??? (wink wonk you'll see at the end)

genre: fluff; humor

A/N: Request from @hazelbean13. Do note that most if not all of the content are not real/accurate because this is an AU (Alternate Universe).

seventeen m.list || main m.list

Out of everyone in their friend group, Hoshi and Wonwoo are truly the closest. In fact, some might say that they are exactly carbon copies of each other. They've always liked and done the same things.

For example, when they were little, when Hoshi got the new gaming console for this birthday, Wonwoo just had to get the same one for his birthday so they could play together.

Another example would be when they were in high school and joined both the soccer team as well as the gaming club because they didn't want to spend a second of their after school time without each other.

Of course there are some things one likes that the other dislikes and luckily because of that they've also never liked the same girl. That is until they met Hazel.

Hazel was about two years older than them. The first time they met her was during their college freshman orientation when she just so happened to be one of their facilitators. They didn't know what it was, but there for sure was something about her that caught their eyes.

At first they didn't know that they happened to be crushing on the same girl. However, once the both found out that they liked the same girl, Hoshi wouldn't let Wonwoo live after that.

"Did you talk to Hazel today?" Hoshi asked as he quickly sat down next to Wonwoo while some of the other students in the library quickly shushed him for talking too loud.

"Why are you asking me?" Wonwoo asked as Hoshi's smile grew wider.

"Because I talked to her today and she said that I was her favorite."

"Favorite what?"

"I'm actually not sure because she just said I was her favorite but I'm pretty sure that I'm her favorite freshman at least. Has she called your her favorite before?" Hoshi teased as Wonwoo just let out a small laugh.

"Yes, she has actually," he said as Hoshi gasped.

"No way! I don't believe you."

"Ask her yourself. But I'm pretty sure she's just nice to everyone."

"Are you saying she's lying then?"

"No, I'm saying that she probably tells that to everyone else because she doesn't want to upset them and also because she kinda has to be nice to all of us since she is an upperclassmen and they're supposed to set a good example for us."

"Valid. But I still think she actually did mean it when she said I was her favorite."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, I always talk to her and she always says that she thinks I'm funny-"

"Funny looking," Wonwoo said as Hoshi was about to snap back but was stopped by the sound of Hazel calling out to the both of them.

"Hey guys!"

"Hi Hazel!" The two said as they both turned to wave towards her as she walked towards them.

"Are you guys still helping out at the fair tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we'll be there!"

"Great, thanks! You're the best!" Hazel said as she reached up to pat both of them on the head before walking the other way, "I'll see you tomorrow then!"

"Did you hear that? She said I'm the best," Hoshi teased as Wonwoo just let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes at the older boy.

"Correction, she said that to the both of us so technically-"

"Yeah, whatever," Hoshi interrupted Wonwoo as he started walking away, "We'll see tomorrow who she thinks is better!"

"This isn't a competition though..." Wonwoo said to himself as he followed Hoshi to their next class.

Come the next day, Hoshi was more than ready to kill two birds with one stone by not only proving to Wonwoo that he is Hazel's favorite but also try to win her heart.

"Here are all of the decorations for our booth," Hoshi said as he set down the last two boxes and stood up proudly.

Hazel couldn't help but let out a small laugh at how cute he was, "Perfect, thanks Hoshi!"

"You're welcome," Hoshi said as his face started heating up. Although everyone calls him Hoshi, it just felt different when Hazel called him that.

A few moments later, Hoshi came back with Hazel's hydroflask filled with fresh cold water.

"Here, I refilled your hydroflask for you!" Hoshi announced as Hazel turned around to see him holding out her hydroflask.

"Oh, thank you," Hazel said as she took the hydroflask from Hoshi to take a sip of water, "You didn't have to, but thanks."

Hoshi smiled widely once again when she patted his head before walking away to help out some of the other students with organizing their booth.

Wonwoo let out a small laugh as he watched the interaction between Hazel and Hoshi, "He really is trying hard to get her attention."

Unlike Hoshi, Wonwoo wasn't very forward with trying to get Hazel's attention and luckily for him doing nothing worked just fine as she had praised him for doing a good job even though he didn't really say anything.

"Nice job, Wonwoo! I didn't know you could draw so well," Hazel praised as Wonwoo was currently painting some cats onto their booth.

"Oh, thank you," Wonwoo said as he turned around only to jump at how close Hazel was to him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Hazel apologized as she slightly moved back to give him a little space as Wonwoo felt his heart start beating a little too fast than he wanted, "I just saw how good of a job you were doing and wanted to watch!"

This went on for the rest of the day, Hoshi doing anything and everything to get Hazel's attention and Wonwoo doing the bare minimum but still somehow managing to get her attention.

"I think I'm winning," Hoshi announced proudly as Wonwoo just let out a small laugh.

"This isn't a competition, you know?"

"Everything is a competition to me."

"How do you even know if you're winning? Has she said anything to you?"

"Well, no-"

"Exactly. Also, stop being so forward, I'm pretty sure she's starting to feel uncomfortable with how forward you're being; I would."

"No she's not-"

"Why don't we just ask her who she likes better to get this over with?"

"That's actually not a bad idea, why didn't we think of that earlier?"

"Because you were too busy trying to get her attention every second."

"True," Hoshi said as he quickly looked around to see if Hazel was anywhere around. As soon as he spotted her, he quickly started waving at her to get her attention, "Hazel!"

"Oh, hey guys," Hazel said as she quickly walked towards them, "What's up? Is everything alright?"

"We have a question for you," Wonwoo said as he looked over at Hoshi to signal for him to ask it.

"Which one of us do you like better?" Hoshi quickly asked as both him and Wonwoo were eager to hear the answer.

"What do you mean? I like both of you!" Hazel said as she smiled and patted their heads.

"What we meant was, if you had to-"

Before Hoshi could finish his question, a very familiar figure started walking towards the three of them.

"Hey guys! Hey love," the man said as Hoshi and Wonwoo's expressions quickly fell when they saw the guy put his arm around Hazel's shoulder and place a kiss on the top of her head.

"Hyung," Hoshi and Wonwoo said as they looked at the older boy Seungcheol who happened to be the captain of the university's soccer team.

"Wait, you didn't finish your question, Hoshi," Hazel said as she looked back at him and Wonwoo.

"Oh, it's nothing! Nevermind. Forget I even said anything!" Hoshi quickly said as he grabbed Wonwoo and dragged him the opposite way.

"What was that?" Seungcheol asked as Hazel just shrugged her shoulder.

"I don't know. They're pretty weird, but cute."

"He's her boyfriend!" Hoshi yelled as him and Wonwoo were finally out of Hazel and Seungcheol's view.

"I told you it wasn't worth trying so hard," Wonwoo said as Hoshi just let out a small laugh.

"You act like you're not affected too."

"Touche, my friend."

"Well, at least that's settled. I'd rather lose the girl than lose my bestest friend in the world," Hoshi said as he tried to give Wonwoo a hug but Wonwoo quickly swerved his reach.

"You were literally ready to do anything and everything including risking our friendship over her," Wonwoo said as he started walking the other way and Hoshi started following him while apologizing.

The end.

#au for the bestie uwu #hoshi au #hoshi svt au #hoshi seventeen au #hoshi seventeen #hoshi svt #wonwoo #wonwoo au #svt wonwoo au #seventeen wonwoo au #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo au #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #kwon soonyoung au #svt au #seventeen au

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

#tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

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liibrii · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: Still the same

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Synopsis: In Aran's eyes you've always been someone he could lean onto. Before you lost touch after graduating that was. Now that you've found a way back into his life, cracking under the weight of the world, he's determined to be there for you as you were for him. It really is only the question of time before he falls in love with you again but he soon starts to realise he might not know you all that well to begin with...

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, friends to lovers

Warnings: timeskip spoilers, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, depression, anxiety, swearing, use of alcohol

wc: 3.1k

a/n: if you wanna be tagged lemme know. as always feedback is greatly appreciated! a big thanks to @rosecaffelatte for the help with header and dividers!

“I dig the new look. But why just the beard, why not grow some nice moustache too? You could twirl them during matches. Like some super volleyball villain.“

Aran's coffee goes down the wrong pipe. “Is that how ya see me?” he asks during coughs.

Years later and your laughter still sounds the same. Warmth spreading through him is still the same. It's been a few months since you moved to Tokyo to finish your degree. “Better late than never, right?“ you told him the first time you got coffee together. An unfamiliar bitterness laced your voice then.

“Me? No. But the opponent might.“ You add some sugar to your cup before making a sip. Aran remembers seeing your favourite drink on the menu and wonders why you ordered something else. Maybe you just don't like it anymore. It has been some time since he last saw you.

Almost four years to be exact. Has it really been that long? He remembers the reunion as if it happened yesterday and graduation only a day before.

“We're graduating in a few days so I made you all a little something.“ You pulled neatly wrapped gifts from your bag. “Don't look so suspicious.“Seeing team's faces made you scrunch up your nose. “It's just a framed picture.“

You made one for everyone, even the first years who were merely bench warmers. It's the picture of the entire team taken after you returned from your last nationals. Aran remembers vividly how insistent you were on hanging team banner in the background. 'We don't need memories.' “But I sure do,“ you joked.

There's a hand written message on the back side. A different note for every single member.

“Take that 'Tsumu!“ shouted Osamu back then and pushed his frame under Atsumu's nose, “Look here, 'Don't tell 'Tsumu but yer my favourite twin!'“

Atsumu sneered at his brother: “What're ya talkin' about? 'Tsum-Tsum yer on the way of becomin' the best setter the world has ever known. And don't tell 'Samu but yer my favourite twin!' Take that ya pig!“

Aran laughed with the rest of the team. How typical that you would play twins against each other to create chaos. 'Aran,' his note read, 'don't forget to stretch properly after practice! And please, never sprain your ankle during matches. World doesn't have to know all your socks have holes in them.'

The first time he noticed your absence in his life was only months after graduating. The volleyball club manager who yelled at the cheering squad in front of the entire gymnasium for making a first year cry during a practice match. Fearless.

You were there when he needed someone to lean onto. With a snack and a sports drink, staying late just to make sure he didn't go overboard with practice. A light slap on his shoulders when he was wallowing in self doubt. On the days it got especially bad you pulled a pack of ritz crackers from your secret stash of snacks and bought him a drink on the way home. Sometimes you'd sit on the stone fence by the crossroad where your path home diverged, gossiping for hours about your classmates and teachers. Aran found it so easy to tell you all the trouble weighing on his mind. Be it about school or volleyball, you listened. Even when he knew he was talking nonsense, even when he knew his worries were just unfounded doubts you listened.

“Better to try and fail than to never try at all,“ you once told him.

Aran's lips curved into a small smile. “Where did ya read that? Some ancient philosopher?“

“No, it's a song.“ You pulled out your phone from the pocket and offered him a headphone. “Wanna listen to it?“

It really was no surprise he fell in love with you.

But he never spoke of how his breath caught in his throat, how his heart pounded whenever you were around. How could he when he had always known that look of pure love and adoration in your eyes would never be meant for him?

How could it be when you were so obviously in love with Kita?

No matter how much his heart ached for you he had to admit you and Kita were a match made in heaven. Years later and he still remembers the pictures in your room, you and Kita aged five or so holding hands, bruised knees and dirty cheeks, you and Kita on your first day of elementary school, you and Kita graduating Middle school. You and Kita joining volleyball club together. You and Kita locking pinkies on the way home. You and Kita. Always you and Kita.

He was so jealous back then. It drained so much of his energy trying to prevent the sneering beast from taking over. So much suppressed emotions trying to protect the friendship he to this day holds so dear. But no matter what he did he couldn't prevent his insides clenching every time you took Kita's hand. Well, why did he even expect you'd chose anyone but him? You've known him your entire life. Kita was your best friend from before either of you even knew what that meant. He understood you better than anyone. Why would you ever choose anyone but him?

For years you were happy and for years Aran believed he had moved on. Once in passing Kita even bashfully mentioned marriage. Aran congratulated his friend, even looked at engagement rings with him. That night he cam home and collapsed on the bed dazed from emotions erupting back to the surface. In his lonely, empty apartment he cried his eyes out. Never before had he been so angry at himself. He believed he was over you. And with one single sentence from Kita vines carrying your name sprouted thorns and pierced his heart.

He was a terrible friend, wasn't he? Perhaps this was his punishment for wishing you were in his arms instead. You are happy, right? So why can't that be enough? Even if it's with someone else, if he really loved you then knowing you are happy should be all that matters, right?

You were happy. Until you weren't. Aran was never glad to learn you and Kita broke up. But he wasn't sad either.

“I always thought ya and Shinsuke were gonna be it.“

Warm sunlight dances over your face. You stare out the window, the gaze of your eyes sorrowful. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing you sad. You've always been the happy one, the one capable of lifting others' spirits no matter how bad it was.

You stir your drink. “I thought so too.“ When you lean back your eyes still search for something in the street. “But that's how it goes you know, sooner or later you realise you've been wrong. One way or another.“

You're trying to sound carefree and Aran's heart cracks a little. Why are you trying so hard to conceal the pain? Don't you trust him?

You are still his friend. He's starting to think that maybe... Maybe he isn't yours anymore. He shouldn't have brought up Kita. Idiot.

“Our semi-final match is next week. Ya comin'?“

Before you answer a small voice chimes in. “Uhm, excuse me? Ojiro-san?“ The boy's eyes sparkle with excitement as he asks for an autograph and a picture and Aran's more than happy to oblige. Two other kids show up and then their parents and some of the guests who had been throwing glances at your table for some time. Aran takes his time taking pictures and exchanging pleasantries. Meeting fans is the one aspect of being a renown athlete he likes.

When he turns back at you there's a fond smile on your face. “Remember those times when you thought you had no future in volleyball because you didn't get invited to youth training camp?“ Your voice softens. “Look at you now. Ojiro Aran, outside hitter of Japan's National Team.“

The light trace of pride in your voice makes his face heat up. “I was lucky to have friends who believed in me.“

“True. I better get going, my shift stars in an hour.“ You stand up and collect your things. “Talk to you later!“

What little of time you spent together always seemed to fly past too rapidly. Aran watches through the window as you hurry down the street. His coffee has gotten cold.

His spike wins them the semi-finals. In the eruption of cheering he can't hear your voice but he does see you bouncing on your heels right beside his family. You're wearing his jersey. Not a replica, it's the same jersey he wore the last season. You jumped from happiness when you opened the present. One more for your small collection of former teammates' jerseys.

Aran beams and waves in your direction. If he could he'd run over to hug and spin you around just like he used to do back in high school but he's called away. By the time interviews are over you're long gone. A part of him really hoped you would wait for him. Just like you did back in high school. All there is is a message telling him he was amazing and you're proud of him. His heart swells and for the rest of the day nothing can wipe the wide grin off of his face.

At the after party alcohol runs in rivers. Since there's no practice scheduled for tomorrow his teammates go wild. Aran downs his fifth or sixth shot having lost count a while ago. He's warm and giddy, from the victory, the alcohol, the girl on his lap running her hands up and down his chest. What was her name again? She pulls him to the dance floor, her hair is the same colour as yours and her body feels so nice against his... She looks at him funny when he calls her your name. He gets lost in the blasting music and dim lights, the haze of all the drinks and the arm around his waist.

The sound of the alarm clock might as well be a sack of rocks someone dumped on his head. Even still half asleep the blunt throbbing in his head is becoming unbearable. He wraps himself tighter with the thin blanket. Futon beneath shifts as someone climbs over him.

Or perhaps he's just dreaming.

When the second alarm rings Aran's eyes begrudgingly flutter open. He struggles to pick up the phone trying to hit that snooze button. He rubs the sleep off his eyes. That's not his phone.

The alarm is still ringing. Oh, he's going to have one hell of a headache today. His fingers shake when he finally finds the 'stop' button. For a few moments he lies motionless though the pounding of his heart rings in his ears. Last night is a haze of disconnected voices and pictures. The futon beneath him is too small to be his and he doesn't recognise the pattern of the sheets either. He probably slept with some girl from the party. Better get up and get the awkward 'morning after' conversation over with.

Sitting up he discovers all his clothes are still on. The room doesn't look familiar, yet the smell... There's something homey and intoxicating about it.

Standing up is a feat on its own. He's dizzy from the sleep and the alcohol and has to grab the edge of the desk to steady himself. He closes his eyes and waits for dizziness to pass. In the weak morning sunlight sipping through the window he notices books and pencils strewn all over. There's a framed picture on the window ledge. It takes a moment for him to recognise it.

Last year of high school, the last trip to the beach you made together. Akagi is giving you a piggy-back ride, Omimi holds both of your popsicles with a fond look on his face. Aran stands beside him, carrying the inflatable ring you guys later accidentally popped on a rock, and on the edge of the group is Kita. His face is covered with a post-it note.

Sudden sickness twists his stomach and it's not just too much alcohol to blame. He slides open the door and looks around before walking down a short hallway to the kitchen. You're just packing your bag. “Look who woke up from his beauty sleep. Want some breakfast?“

“Bathroom,�� is all he manages to utter.

“Last door on the right.“

He finds it not a moment too early. How embarrassing, to be throwing up at your place. He feels your hands rub soothing circles on his back as he leans over the toilet. Once his stomach settles down you hand him a glass of water and some headache medicine. His head is spinning. When he finally collects himself enough to stand up on his own you hand him a new toothbrush. “I gotta go in a few minutes. Professor doesn't like us being late.“

“What happened?“ His voice is hoarse.

“You had a drink too much Mr. Lightweight,“ you say with a loop sided grin. “A girl form the party called me in the middle of the night asking for someone to pick you up. It's a good thing she did cause everyone was so drunk they couldn't stand straight. You guys really did take celebrating to a whole new level. I did take you to your place but when we got there your keys were gone. So might want to look into that. Also I'm pretty sure I strained a muscle dragging you up the stairs.“ You glimpse over to the clock on the wall. “Listen, I really have to go. My roommate'll be home all day so you can stay if you want. And when you get hungry just take something from the fridge. You gonna be alright?“

Aran nods. Fuck, even that hurts. “Need to sleep it off,“ he mumbles.

You give him one more pat on the back before you leave. He struggles for a while trying to unscrew the tube of toothpaste. Never before has brushing teeth posed such a challenge. He washes his face with ice cold water that does nothing to improve the headache or his mood.

He collapses back on your futon. So, this is your room then. It's nothing like the one he remembers from back home. The Vabo-chan plushie team gifted you for your birthday lies on the pillow. It still holds the ball Omimi made at the last moment, not that he was the one given this task in the first place. It was meant as a joke yet you brought it with you to Tokyo. Aran snuggles it, noticing how pale and worn out it's becoming. He drifts back to sleep, thinking he should tell the others you still have it. They'll be glad to hear it.

No matter how hard Aran tries to pay you back the money for the taxi ride from the party you refuse. The only payment you're prepared to accept is a trip to the seaside. The moment you see the endless blue water you run closer, discarding your shoes on the beach. Seeing you splash around in the shallow water makes him laugh.

He lays out the blanket and watches over you. It's good seeing the exhaustion on your face being washed away. Even if you didn't complain at all and said nothing he could tell balancing college and work is taking its toll. Despite smiling and appearing as carefree as always you seem tired. Aran is starting to fear you'll break under the weight of whatever it is you refuse to tell him.

He lays back on his bag, basking in the warm sun. Soon he dozes off. Once he wakes up you're laying beside him and scribbling in the margins of an article you have to read for an upcoming lecture. He lets you work and simply enjoys your presence. He missed hanging out with you, even if you don't do anything special he's just glad to have you around.

As evening falls he draps his jacket on your shoulders. You always loved stealing – not stealing he corrects himself, borrowing- you always loved borrowing jackets and hoodies.

“Hey Aran? Can... Can I tell you something?“ You hide your face beneath the hood of his jacket.

“'Course ya can.“

“Remember the old maple tree by the crossroad?“

Aran thinks for a moment. “Ya mean the one Suna dared ya to climb and ya fell down from?“

“That one yeah.“ A shadow of a smile flies over your lips at the memory.

“Everyone thought Oomi-sensei would throw ya outta the club. Shouldda seen the second year's faces when they thought we'll lose our precious manager.“

“A few months ago I walked past it. Thought about climbing it.“

“Lemme guess, ya couldn't? College life sucked all the strength from yer arms? Told ya ya should exercise more.“

“I was scared.“ You take a deep breath. “I climbed that tree a thousand times before. And now I'm too scared to even touch the lowest branch.“ You fidget with the hem of his jacket. “It scared me so much you know, not noticing how much I've changed.“

“Ya haven't changed that much.“

You look at him. “Haven't I?“

“No.“ Lies. A part of him knows it's lies. “Yer still the same. Our precious manager.“ He playfully pokes your shoulder. Yeah, you're still the same. You're still the you he remembers. “Yer my friend. Fearless. Always there to kick some sense into me.“ You're still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago. “Yer one of my best friends. Nothin's gonna change that. Besides-“

“I hated you.“

Seagulls' calls. Waves crashing on the shore. People chatting in the distance. “Well, hate might be a bit too strong...“ You pull your knees to your chest and hug them, your eyes fixed on the waning light on the horizon. “I was so envious of you, you know? Of all of you... You, Akagi, Omiren,... You all knew what you wanted, you going pro, them going to college, and Shin... Even back in school I was the odd one out. I couldn't admit to myself that I envied you. Now I know it was wrong. So fucking childish. But that's how I felt.“ You can't bear to look him in the eye. “Sometimes I still feel like the one who has no idea what to do with her life...“

A lump forms in Aran's throat. He had no idea. Too blinded by your light, too engrossed in his own feelings to notice what was happening underneath your carefree facade.

“Knowing that tell me,“ you glance at him and tears in your eyes glimmer in the last beams of the setting sun, “can really nothing change our friendship?“

Ch. 2: Tattered

#ojiro aran #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran imagine #ojiro aran angst #aran x reader #ojiro aran x y/n #hq #haikyuu x reader #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki angst #all that is gold #libri scribbles

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border-spam · 3 years

Text

Leech Lord: Saints and Sinners

(mid COV era)

Seifa likes Ven, and that's a real problem for her because it's not the easily manageable kind of like that she's forced herself to utilise over the years. She normally likes people the same way Skags like the smell of day-old roadkill.

Someone who's company you trust and wit you prefer over the other options available for the night, that's an easy like, that's the kind of "friendship" she's tended to propagate for a long time now. Ones that don't need a huge amount of yourself. The kind that last years but don't cut into the meat of your secrets, those are the norm for her. Those are fine.

She likes Ven in a way that makes things harder, 'cause Seifa cares about him, and caring? That's tough. She's not very fucking good at caring about others.

Sei spent years avoiding caring in general, and now she's found herself leading a life where she's practically drowning in worry and fear for people she ended up loving anyway. Deep down she should have known that would happen eventually, the joke's always on her in the end - and it's normally Seifa who sets up the punchline.

Hurting Ven? It matters now, because she let herself care enough that his wellbeing spills over into her own. Him and Jak-Knife, Troy, Eli, the phantom of what she can recall Tyreen Calypso once being before an unknown vileness warped that brilliant smile into something vicious, they all hold a little place inside Sei's heart now, and she can't quite tell if she's pissed with herself for letting it happen, or frightened by how empty it had been in the first place.

Saying the wrong stupid thing as a stupid joke because you were too dumb to read the room right, that matters now, and for all her sharpness she knows damn well that putting her foot in her mouth has been a life long speciality of hers. Still, she makes sure to apologise for it every time, even if it's in one of the frankly weird ways she prefers.

Easier to have a litttttle bit too much to drink in one of the louder clubs before you gut yourself in genuine empathy to a friend, even easier if they are a tad wobbly too, and she's always been able to count on the man to throw a good wobble when she needs the company.

Squashed together like Rakklings in a cordoned off ViP area as the shitty bass music half muffles out her words, arm slung around his shoulder (sloshing gold flakes and vodka over the beautiful coat he's wearing) as she half yells half whispers that she's sorry about earlier - about what she said bout trading him for some junk? Was meant to be a joke, she'd only say that because she'd never do it, because he's so valuable to her, yeah? Still, she saw the reaction, saw the hurt - sorry man, won't happen again. Next round's on her, right? Right.

Easier to wrap it in a fun night out with envious glances and some flashing neon than go face to face - that's not worked out that well for her in the past. She doesn't really know how to be genuine without maybe showing a little too much of her inner vulnerability, and thing's didn't go right last time she tried. Genuine regret and an honest reminder of how much the person meant to her mixed badly, was misread as something else, and their heart had gotten broken despite her intent being to patch a wound in the first place.

Still, she trusts him. Figures that wouldn't happen, or it's unlikely, but it would be her fault if it did anyway, just like it had been before. Seems she only has her Seifa façade and the sad thing hiding under it to show people, one or the other without the security of something in between.

She knows she should probably work on a middle ground but... who has the time. She's a busy woman.

His reaction when she'd said it had twigged her in on something obvious though, that pang of sharp hurt that wiped the easy grin off his face and replaced it with something practiced and cold had hit a weak point she hadn't known about. Something about his past maybe, or how he'd valued himself.

Close as they were, squashed side by side and chuckling under breath that could blow the place if any of the horde of worshippers pulsating around their booth lit a match, Ven was in many ways still an enigma. His secrets were wrapped in layers of open friendship, he hid them under truths and insecurities they'd spent so many evenings sharing with his brother and Jak-Knife, or even their moody boy-king on long nights in his Sanctum.

She knew he'd tell her in his own time if that was something he was ever going to consider, but she also knew that she was an impossibly nosy little shit who wouldn't be able to let it go now that she had an inkling... and Troy had been NO help.

When Calypso wasn't intentionally wrapping himself around her finger and expertly hiding how much he enjoyed every second of it, Troy could be... surprising.

It's rare he says no to her and means it, but when he really does, he's fucking clear. There's a snap in the air as his voice silences it - a shift.

You don't keep pushing, something in your brain stem sends a warning with a finality that shivers the roots of your molars and shuts you up.

Troy is normally a pliant man. He likes being easy to manipulate, especially by women. She's known him long enough to catch that little "interest" of his, but when he's serious? You don't push back, so she stopped asking him to gossip secrets about Ven's history the very first time he denied her so clearly.

She might be underselling herself by saying her hunt for his past is purely out of curiosity, being nosy is only a part of it. In reality?

She doesn't want to hurt her friend again.

The realisation an in-joke, or a snarky comment, or any of the other myriad of shitty little communication tricks she employs could actually target somewhere already bleeding through his armour was upsetting.

That's something to celebrate when it's intended, but accidentally slipping a verbal shank into a friend's ribs isn't the win it is with a competitor, and she'd rather that not happen again, so she tries to heal it her way - reminds him over and over on nights like these how great a man he is.

She makes a scene in public so no one can deny the truth of it. A raised toast to The Oracle, sight of the Holy Twins, and a drunken speech to the club goers about how much he means to the Saints, how valuable he is to her.

She wears the trinkets he's gifted her whenever she can, returns the gestures of kindness with shoddily crafted wire figures, or quick repairs of any of his tech she notices could do with a tune-up.

Loops an arm through his and drags him through crowds for a chance at better seating while slumming, because don't they know who he is??

She'll tell them.

She knows, and she'll make sure everyone around them does too.

The Holy City is full of Saints, and Sinners.

A handful are both.

Ven belongs to @hieroglyphix and JK to @godkingsanointed

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #leech lord #seifa #oc:ven #oc:jak-knife #ven #jak-knife #my hcs #my writing.

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anonil88 · 4 years

Text

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar.

"Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

"Beep beep ghost busting in my,

Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing. Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road.

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day.

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window.

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her.

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach.

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers.

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes.

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car until one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons.

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes.

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.

#rue bennett #rue euphoria #jules vaughn #jules euphoria #original character #euphoria hbo #euphoria #euphoria fanfiction #euphoria fanfic #my wriitng #fanfiction #club tw #rue #jules #rue x jules

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kittensjonsa · 6 years

Text

For @jonsa-week 's Day 1:

Greed ~ The Father (Justice) ~ Fave book quote (Jon, A Storm of Swords - pg 617)

Summary: Revenge was all he wanted and it didn’t matter how he got it. But Jon knew he had bitten off more than he can chew the moment he laid his eyes on Sansa Stark - daughter of the well loved and respected man in all of Westeros and recent widower turned priest, Ned Stark.

Rated G, 2k+ words, may turn smutty. Angsty, a snippet of Jonsa, dark Jon and to be continued (maybe I don’t know yet..)

In The Name of The Father

Justice. It was all he wanted. The plans he had didn't have any room for any incidences. Nothing at all. Just get in, get it done and get out. He was prepared, or at least he thought so.

“Something troubling you, son?”

Jon jumped slightly at the call. Turning around slowly as calm and confident footsteps approached him, Jon managed a small smile of greeting. A small creak told him the priest had just taken a seat in the pew just behind his.

“Well, isn't everyone who comes here?”

A small grin and a chuckle escaped the sombre priest. “True. Aren't we all? Well if there's anything you need, confess or anything, I'll be right here.”

Confess. A heavy word worth its weight in guilt and remorse. He had a confession, truth be told but tonight was not the night. Oh the things he could tell, but he shouldn't. Not to Father Ned Stark.

“I'm sorry, Father.. but I'm afraid.. I'm not Catholic. I just came here to take a breather. It's very.. peaceful here.”

It wasn't prayer nor intercession he was after. Nor a minute of peaceful solitude. He had enough of those growing up alone.

Forgiveness. That was on his mind, the moment he stepped into the church. He feared he would vanish and spontaneously combust, on such sacred premises, for the vile things he had done but he guessed going to hell didn't work that way. Jon had a feeling he had one foot in it already.

“How could you? You animal!” Sansa's cries were acid, burning right through him.

“I fell in love with you! To think I gave you all of me, my heart was yours! A-and you.. you just stomped on it? How dare you even come here!”

“Sansa, you're not listening to me.. please just listen.”

Sansa shook her head and rubbed away at the tears that were flowing freely. Oh, how it hurts. She gave herself to him. All of her; mind, body and soul. She would do anything for him. Anything to make him happy. He was her best friend, her soul mate. But how could her feelings be so wrong?

Sansa screamed in anger as Jon stepped closer. She was done. The lies, oh God, the lies!

“No! Don't touch me! We are done! Don't ever come near me ever again! You.. are dead to me.”

No words had ever punched him in the gut like Sansa’s..Jon could only watch as Sansa ran away from him, driving off and leaving him alone by the river. The night was unbearably cold all of a sudden. Their favourite spot and where they kissed for the first time. He shouldn't care nor remember these things, but he did. Good lord, he did.

The stab that pierced through his heart was one he didn't expect. Perhaps he did love her too. .

But.. Mother. And Arthur.

He was greedy. Greedy for things to be set right. Greedy for vengeance. For vindication. But he had no right to break her heart. And for what it's worth, his too.

His happiness meant nothing if he didn't have any peace. One that would come in the aftermath of finally knowing who had taken everything away from him and getting payback. It was all that mattered. Wasn't it?

Maybe prayer was what he needed, subconsciously as what good left in him was desperately trying to claw its way out. But he didn't believe in God. What God would allow such things; what happened to his mother and Arthur, and more importantly to him, making him this way causing hurt and grief to someone he actually loved?

Pray then. Pray to your new Gods, and I'll pray to my old ones.

And they are Revenge, Betrayal and Blackmail.

Jon shut his eyes, remorseful for thinking such thoughts in such a place. But how hypocritical, it seemed to him, considering what he had done. And he had done enough. It stung him still, remembering how her warm tears dampened the palm of his hands. How her heartbreaking pleas shook him to his very core. Yes, he had done enough.

Jon could hear the priest's smile. A warm, genuine and kind smile. “Yes, I suppose it is. Well, not to worry we welcome everyone here.”

Sinners are we and sinners we shall die. None redeemed. At least not me, Jon thought.

“Thank you. It means a lot.”

His eyes shifted to the floor and held his head low before standing up to leave Jon alone. He had been a priest long enough to know when he was not needed. And it seemed to him this dishevelled young man, with dark eyes and unruly curls probably cherished his moment of solitude before he walked in.

“Nice to meet you then. I shall leave you in your peace. I'm Father Ned and I hope if you feel like you ever need a place to breathe, you'll come here.”

“Thank you Father Ned. I'll take you up on that offer.”

And perhaps.. more.

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

“What? What do you mean you can't tell me? What is it?”

Sam clicked the mouse and whirled his chair around to face Jon. He hoped he had better news to tell him.

“You've got to promise me you're not going anything stupid. You can't. Promise me, Jon.”

“All right. I promise. So go on then... Oh for fuck's sake, Sam! Out with it!”

Sam turned and tapped on the computer screen.

“That man you've been looking for all this while? The one you think had something to do with your mother's death? That's him right there. The private investigator sent me this.”

Jon grunted and glared at Sam before setting his gaze on the screen.

“So that's him. I've got to look for him then.”

“And do what Jon? Ask him questions, interrogate him? I know what's going through your mind and I think it's best if you don't.. do anything at all.”

Jon looked at the name again. And the stealth pictures that came with it. He needed to decide now. Closure, that's it. Though it puzzled him why Sam was so concerned. He knew how much he needed this. Sam, of all people.

“And why shouldn't I?”

“You're mad, angry, pissed off. You've been like this ever since you started this whole investigation thing. Dude, listen to me, just don't do it.”

“And isn't that the exact reason why I should? It's called closure, Sam. Besides, who the hell is h-”

“He's mother fucking Ned Stark, that's why!” Sam objected.

Ned Stark. I'll remember that name for as long as I live.

“So, who's he?” Jon asked, though he had heard of him before.

“You're kidding right? A Westerosi legend. The lawyer who brought the Boltons to their knees and best friend of the late President Robert Baratheon. How do you not know all this?”

Jon stared at the pictures once more and shrugged. Probably a good thing he didn't. Makes it all the more easier. He was too busy trying to survive the past twenty years or so, doing his best on the cold hard streets than to mind about politics or gossip.

“But.. it looks like he isn't one anymore. Or retired. I mean, look the photos. He's a priest, Sam.”

“Dude give that guy a break. He just lost his wife and his two sons. He's found God and maybe that's how it's supposed to be. I mean, come the fuck on, Snow!”

And I lost my mother.

Jon didn't like the tone in Sam's plea. Why should one man's redemption be more important than his poor mother's? A life snatched away from him much too soon. The years spent in foster homes, in the orphanage and trying to seek some form of solace and God forbid it, even love - was a painful sorrow no one would ever understand.

“Stop fucking telling me about this man! His life is no more important than what my mother could have had! You don't fucking tell me how that's like, Tarly. No one can and best you don't say anything about this anymore.”

“No, Jon I didn't mean that! You know that. Come on, Jon! Jon!” Sam's words fell on deaf ears as Jon grabbed his coat and left. Nobody tells me what the fuck to do. Not Sam, not even God. Whoever the fuck they are, Jon screamed in his head.

Days went by without as much as a call from Sam, Jon knew he was smart enough to leave him be but still he wished they could talk. A text or two dinged but Jon chose to ignore them. He had more important things on his mind. Rubbing his tired eyes, Jon decided to call it a night from staring at the computer.

The research and probing had gotten a little too mundane, the more he learned about Ned Stark, the more he uncovered - which was really how Ned Stark was practically Captain Westeros, a well loved man, an upright citizen with morals of steel. There was not an ounce of dirt on him except one tabloid article years ago that depicted him leaving the scene of an infamous night club with the late former President Baratheon. But that was only because the former late President was a bad boy with bad habits, it wasn't really about Ned Stark per se.

How are you connected to my mother's death? Jon wondered. Something's gotta give, no one can be that good.

Jon needed to do something different, he needed more. He had set out to find the truth and right now, he'd do just about anything for it. Anything.

The Stark family radiated pure happiness and perfection, from the web portrait alone, one that rudely yelled out at him.

Such a pretty family.

It made him sick to his stomach, to think that that could have been a portrait of him and his mother and Arthur Dayne. His own family where he was loved and protected. Arthur wasn't family but he was the closest father figure he had in someone and the only confidante his mother trusted. Arthur probably loved his mother too, Jon was certain. They were happy and Jon's life was perfect. Just like the picture of the Starks.

Till a note found in his mother's cold dead hands with a scribbled 'Eddard Stark' destroyed everything he held dear.

And there he was, Father Ned Stark.

Ned Stark, a name that made a six year old Jon an orphan that day and since then he made a vow. Devoting the rest of his life to avenge his beloved mother. Even if it meant hurting someone along the way. He was more than willing and growing up fending for himself went on to equip him with the skills he needed. Jon had years in preparation for this.

They've got to pay, Mama. Someone has to.

“Sansa! Sans! There's someone here to see you,” Jeyne called out from the bottom of the stairs.

Sansa almost jumped and dropped the pencil in her hand. Good thing she wasn't writing anything important or else she'd have to rewrite the notes.

That's weird. Who could it be? Sansa checked her watch again and grunted at the time. It was going to be the third time she was late this week.

“She'll be right down. What was your name again? Jay, was it?”

Jon nodded with a smile. “Yes, it is. I'm actually here for the caretaker position? I believe it was posted in the jobs section in the papers.”

Jeyne eyed him warily. She didn't recall putting an advertisement out for anything lately. If Sansa did, she'd definitely inform her. Yet not even a mention of it. Jeyne didn't quite like the idea of strangers coming up to the Stark's private residence looking for jobs. Regardless of how dark and handsome they turn out to be. But then again, perhaps she might be taking her job as Sansa's personal assistant a little too seriously to care this much.

I'm sure it's nothing, just a guy looking for a job.

“I see. Sansa did mention once that they needed a caretaker here to help with house and the dogs. Though that might have been a few weeks ago and the applications are closed. But maybe she hadn't found one yet. So.. you're okay with dogs though right?”

Jon shrugged. “Dogs? Sure, I love dogs. I have one of my own. Ghost, his name is. Big large white dog. He's a good boy.”

Jeyne nodded approvingly. “Well, all right then. I have to go and leave you in Sansa's good hands. I was just here to collect some paperwork. Nice to meet you, Jay. Oh, and good luck!”

Jon waved a polite goodbye as he closed the door and resumed waiting by the stairs. Beads of sweat were pooling on his forehead. Jon inhaled deeply. So close. He was so close and everything was going according to plan. Jon knew he was at the right place and at the right time and he was mightily pleased with himself.

That is, until - he saw her. Sansa Stark.

“Jay? Hi, sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Sansa. Nice to meet you.”

Nice indeed.

Fuck.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa week #day 1 #dark jon #revenge #modern au

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hauntedduckdefendor · 7 years

Text

Guardian

My heart feels as if it is beating out of my chest, adrenaline is pumping through my veins. I swore I would never come back to this place. Now It’s the only place that I know I will be safe. They have been following me since I left Arizona. Keeping just in sight of my rear view.They attempted to grab me out of my truck when I was leaving a gas station. I can tell I have a black eye, and my lip is swollen. Im lucky my Old man taught me to fight. I know they are fucking with me, trying to psych me out before they attempt to run me into the ditch again.

All it took was one glimpse at the crow tattooed on my sternum and they were after me. Everyone in a five state distance knew what it meant. That I was an OId Lady for one of the members of the Sons of Anarchy. What better way to gain leverage over a club then to take a members Old Lady? To bad I was an ex. An ex who probably had been forgotten within the two years I had been away.

The welcome to Charming sign passes me in a blur. I barely catch a glimpse of the word SAMCRO carved into the sign, before my eyes are on my rear view mirror again. Obviously these assholes don’t know where they are, or where I’m heading. That or they are prospects, sent out to do the dirty work, and test the waters around Charming.

I quickly pull into the lot at Teller Morrow and notice there is only one bike. A Trike, parked toward the end of where the line usually starts. Piney is here I think to myself as I through the truck in park and begin running toward the clubhouse door. The sound of motors that don’t belong to Harley fills the lot, and my fear had tripled. Are these idiots fuckign crazy! Pulling into TM like this is a death wish. My hand grazes the handle on the clubhouse door when it is flung open. Piney standing with a shotgun in hand, quickly steps out of the way as I barrel inside. He’s standing in the doorway, shotgun at the ready.

“If you think you have the balls to come inside here be my guest” he calls into the lot. The bikes from the Guardians MC are lined up, blocking the entrance to Teller Morrow.

“Y/N, get my phone off the bar, hit 3, you’ll know what to do” he calls to me over his shoulder.

Running toward the bar I find the old burner, and quickly pressing 3. I go around the backside of the bar, my hands feeling for the pistol that is usually stashed there. MY fingers come in contact with the cold steel as the ringing of the phone stops and a voice I haven’t heard in two very long years hits my eardrum.

“Yeah” is all he says and my heart once again is racing. This time not from fear.

“Tig, you need to get to the clubhouse, The Guardians followed me, Piney is trying to hold them off”!

The line goes dead and I throw the phone. Knowing the guys will be here soon. My body goes into fight mode. I have to do whatever it takes to protect Piney and this clubhouse. I run quickly toward a side window that’s facing the lot. I see two full patched members, along with three prospects. The full members rockers are still white, especially in contrast to the rockers worn by the sons. Marred with dirt, blood, and life on the road.

“We can do this one of two ways” Piney yell’s into the lot once more. “You can leave and pray we don’t find you. Or you can start a war you will not win”. To emphasize his point, he racked the shotgun, making that noise that everyone knows so well. The Guardians at the end of the lot are standing their ground, pistols pointed toward the old man. I hear the faint sound of Harleys coming closer, and I know either all hell is about to break loose, or the pardon of a lifetime is about to take place.

Jax is the first one on the scene, followed by Bobby, Chibs, Tig and Happy. It looks like they have a few prospects as well. The guys are on their feet in seconds when they park at the end of the compound. Pistols drawn, they are aiming at the Guardians, who now have a glint of fear in their eyes.

“You all are either very stupid, or have huge balls” Jax calls toward the men in the center of the lot. “I’m giving you to the count of five to get the hell off my lot, before I unleash hell on your heads. Five…… Four……Three”. Not needing to be told twice, the Guardian mount their bikes and begin to leave, the Sons pistols still trained on them.

I feel exhausted as the last bike pulls away from Teller Morrow, My body is shaking as I sit down on one of the stained up couches. Piney walks toward the bar, grabbing a bottle of Tequila. He takes a drink before offering me the bottle. I gratefully accept it, knowing I’m going to need to be numb when he walks in the door.

Chibs is in first, followed by the man who broke my heart two years ago. I give a small smile as Tig gets down on his knees in front of me. His bright blue eyes piercing me with his gaze.

“What the hell happened doll” he asks as he brushes his thumb against my swollen lip, blood coming away with his thumb.

“It’s not mine, well not all of it at least. Apparently biting someone’s ear when they jump you is frowned upon in Arizona” A smile crosses his face as he brushes my hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, I wonder who you learned that move from” he laughs.

“Here lass, let me look at ye” Chibs Scottish accent is calming as he takes my face in his hands, looking at the numerous cuts and bruises.

“You’re gonna be sore for a couple of days, but other then tha’ ye will live” he states as he wipes down my cuts with an alcohol wipe.

“Thanks Chibby” I wince as the cleaning of another cut begins. I see Jax standing close by, a beer in his hands.

“Well one thing hasn’t changed. You still know how to make an entrance” he chides as Chibs finishes with my face. “You want to tell me what brought all this down on your shoulders”?

I glanced at Tig, who had been quiet since Chibs started tending to my wounds, then pointed down to my chest where Tig’s crow was in plain sight. “They needed leverage, and I guess they thought it was me”

Pic isn't mine!!

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #tig trager #chibs telford #jax teller #happy lowman #juice oritz #piney winston #opie winston

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mama-ghostie-61542 · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Lifetimes

Rated M++ for language and themes

If you recognize it--IT AIN'T MINE

Sorry for the OOC bits.

Chapter 2

Supper was finished and cleaned up with little in the way of words spoken after that. The evening saw me curling up in my bed with a coffee and the second chapter.

Jooheon PoV--

As soon as we were given our holiday leave, we were talking where we were all going to go. I had saved my days off for three months to have an entire week away. Just the same as I had saved as much as I could to be able to afford that first class ticket. Bryn had sent me half of the money, so that helped. As I packed, I called Bryn, just to verify the time I should get there.

The flight itself was really uneventful...unless you count the attendant openly flirting with me. That guy openly offered things that, umm, weren't on the menu, let's say. Now, don't get me wrong, I love flying first class, and I am used to having underwear thrown at me by western audiences, but getting an invitation to join 'The Mile High Club' by a dude, was a little much for me.

'Would be too much for me too'.

By the time the plane landed in L.A., I was thoroughly embarrassed, and a little pissed off. Then there was a two hour layover until my flight to Chicago. That flight was a lot better than the one from Seoul to L.A. No one bothered me. I was just the Asian guy in first class.

After grabbing my bag from baggage claim, I started to walk down to the pick up and drop off, where she said she would meet me. Bryn told me she has an awful time getting through security checkpoints. The machines pick up the studs on her implants. That was an interesting conversation, I learned my big sister had lost all her teeth due to a strange combination of factors. But, she had gotten it all squared away and everything had healed up a while ago.

'She has implants? Hmm.'

As I turned the corner, I heard a soft whistle followed by Bryn shouting.

"Jooheon! Over here, Lil Man."

'Little? He is at least half a foot taller than you!'

I turned towards the yell, and saw her. The buzz cut threw me for a second. "You cut it all off again," I remarked as I noticed her shoulder length hair was much shorter than our last video chat.

"Yep. Long hair is for men and babies, not ladies. Neither man nor bitch should be able to grab a handful and use it against me," she quipped as she ran her hand over the short, spunky, spikes on her pate. "Got your bag," she asked.

Long hair is for men and babies, huh.

I nodded.

"Cool. My truck is this way," she said as she tilted her head to the side. "Let's blow this pop stand."

"What," I asked, laughing as I followed.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand.'

Turning around and walking backwards, she said, "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

'See. I do know some idioms.'

Imagine my surprise when what she simply called 'my truck' was a tiny little Chevy Equinox.

As we stowed my bags in the back seat, I said, "Bryn, this isn't a truck."

"Is to me," she replied as we got into the front and buckled our safety belts. When she started up the engine, the cabin was filled with a haunted music. Then she said, as we backed out of the parking spot, "We gotta stop for gas before we hit the interstate, so, I suggest you visit the men's room before we leave. We still have a four hour drive ahead of us."

As she put it in drive, I replied with, "Are you insinuating I can't control myself?"

"No," she said, matter-of-factly. "I am straight telling you that you have a bladder the size of a walnut and you are riding with a fucking camel."

I laughed, 'I agree. That woman can make an eight hour drive with a bottle of pop and never once need to pee. There will still be soda in her bottle, too. She's a fuckin camel.'

As we pulled away from the gas station, and onto the interstate, She commented on my shirt. "That is a nice color on you, by the way."

"Thanks. I like red."

"I know. Just never had you pegged as a guy who actually looked good in maroon."

I looked down at my shirt. "It's red," I replied.

"No, Dear, it's maroon."

"Agree to disagree. How many times have I told you to just call me 'Honey'?"

"It weirds me out to call my little brother "Honey'. That's a word meant for a significant other. The closest you will EVER get is Dear. Ah! I know! Wanda," she laughed.

"Absolutely not," I laughed, "but I can see your point," I said, as I looked out the window for a minute, "How is Clark taking it?"

'Who is this Clark, guy?'

"Your visit? We got in a screaming match. It all boils down to the fact you are a guy."

"Wow," I replied then shook my head. Clark was one of those super insecure guys who saw everyone as a threat. "So it didn't and doesn't matter that the mere idea of being anything other than an adopted brother makes me want to poke my eyeballs out with a blunt object."

"Nope," she replied. "You're a dude, and dude's only think about getting 'stuff' from girls."

'Ok, so she is safe with Honey. Good to know.'

I gagged and covered my mouth, "Icky. Just the thought of that makes me want to vomit," I said then shuddered.

"Hey," she chuckled. "No pukin' in my truck," she quipped as she smacked my arm.

"Are you allowed to have gay friends?"

"He doesn't like them either. He would be completely happy if I had no friends at all."

"That is what I call possessive."

"That is what I call fucked up," she replied. "Getting a little sick of the double standards. He can have all the friends he wants, but I have lost most of mine, thanks to him."

"Well, you can't lose me. You are stuck with me now."

"Good to know."

"You know I love you, Sissie," I squealed as I laid over onto the console.

"Yeah, I know. Sadly," she replied and then smiled at me before focusing on the road.

After a few miles, I asked, "So he cost you your friends?"

Sighing, she replied, "Yeah. The only ones left are Lynn and Shayne. He tried to get rid of them, but Shayne threw a fit."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Shayne told him to shut up before he knocked him out. I mean, we have been friends for 33 years and nothing has ever happened. EVER. And I like Lynn."

"Lynn?"

"Shayne's wife. She is awesome!"

"So, do I get to meet the family this week?"

"Nope," she replied. "Ian, Allen, and Jason all have wives that don't like Ma...or me, much. And Los lives in Texas with his wife and their boys, so I don't get to see him much anyways. Costs a ton to board the boys for a visit"

"Los," I asked. I had heard her refer to him, but didn't really know much, other than he was the only biological brother. "I thought he couldn't have kids?"

"Carlos. Most of the family calls him Junior. Juan Carlos Jr. And he can, she can't. The boys are their pitties."

"Wow. What was his mom smoking," I asked.

Bryn smiled, "Don't know, but I wish she would have shared."

"Why?"

"My full name."

"What is it," I asked, mentally preparing myself for the answer.

"Bryn Markham is just the name I write under. Bryanna Ellyen Velvet Colline Brusher nee Loveland, legally. I go by either Annie or Bry, depending on who it is. My parents STILL call me by my full name," She replied, her embarrassment pinking her cheeks slightly.

I grabbed the pad and pen from beside my bed and wrote down the name quickly.

"Oh my god," I laughed.

"Could have been worse, though. If I had been a boy, my dad wanted to name me either Benjamin Abraham or Joshua Earl."

I couldn't help the snort that came out, right before I broke and laughed. I was laughing so hard I was starting to tear up a bit.

"Yeah. Haha. Laugh it up," She said as she rolled the window down a few centimeters and grabbed an ash cup from the rear cup holder. Then, Bryn grabbed the tin of smokes out of the console and lit one up.

"Hold up. You smoke?"

That explains the smell, sometimes.

"Not anymore. Used to, but I found this mix when I quit. I smoked because of my temper, and this mix helps. It's better than looking at the world through two panes of glass and chicken mesh cause I lost it and gave some dumbass what they really deserved."

I looked at her confused.

"A high five...in the face," she said as she glanced at me, "with a chair," Bryn deadpanned as she watched the road.

I snickered a little before I said, "Really?"

"Yeah. More than just a pretty face, little brother," She laughed as she playfully slapped her cheek.

As we settled in to the drive, I realized how much she looked like the girl in Kihyun's dreams. Granted, I could just be seeing what I wanted to see.

They both need someone awesome.

Bryn PoV--

We made it to the house in a little over 3 hours. As usual, Clarkie was pissed. This time cause I actually went and picked up my brother. I guess, he thought if he raised enough of a stink, I would do what he wanted. But, I had a bad habit of never staying in his happy little shell. Mostly because it felt like a cage and I hate to be hemmed in.

He has always said that I need safety and security, but his idea of it is a cage, fences to box me in. My idea was more like a safe place to bed down after a run with the moon, and the freedom to run and stretch out; to sprawl all out and wait for nightfall.

But, Hawkie, has always known its a nice place to land. But that's the way our connection worked, neither one of us had to say much, we just did and it all fit.

I couldn't help but think how wrong this Clark guy was. A spirited filly like that needed plenty of room to run, to roam, or she got stifled. She was right, my idea of security was always just having a good place to land.

As we walked inside, I said, "Look guys, Uncle Jooheon is here."

All three of my kids suddenly insisted on 'Uncle Joey' being his new name; even though I had been coaching them for weeks as to how to pronounce it the right way.

Grimacing, I said, "Sorry, Bud. It appears you have been graced with a new name. In the old ways, a new name is given at the time of adoption. So it looks like it's official. Welcome to the family."

"Hey. I don't mind. There are worse things to be called. Joey works," He chuckled as he shook his head, "At least it's close. I am honored to officially be part of the family."

"Don't get too comfy. Ma picks out middle names at random. So if you ever hear 'Joe' followed by some random Western name, just go with it. And if she whips out the right pronunciation and a random middle name, you are entirely on your own."

"If it's Ma, I would probably answer to it, just to keep her happy," He quipped back.

"It's better that way. She used to call Jamen, the ex, Lynn."

He let loose a belly laugh that had me laughing.

"Seriously," he asked as he wiped his eyes.

"Oh, Yeah. He used to get soo mad."

I laughed at Bryn and Honey and how they acted. Then, I thought about trying that name out in the morning.

As I laid there, curled up and ready to sleep, I felt her. She brushed my hair out of my eyes and whispered softly against my forehead, "You sleep, my love. I'll keep watch."

I fell asleep to her whispering something to me, soft and slow, in a language I couldn't understand. I knew it was no lullaby. It felt more like a blessing, like a prayer. I felt more at peace in that moment than I had for weeks. That night, the nightmares did not haunt me.

The next morning, as we all got around for the day, I took the chance.

"Hey, Joey."

All of the guys stopped.

Honey turned to me, "What did you call me."

"Story said she coached her kids for weeks. They all had it right, but, the minute you walked in the door it was 'Joey'."

"Really," He said as he looked kind of confused. "Joey?" He just snickered and smiled. "Babies. What can ya do," he laughed.

"If what she wrote is true, in her culture, when a person is adopted, they are given a new name. 'Joey' happens to be yours. Not to mention that 'Honey' weirds her out."

The expression on his face dropped. Confusion colored his face for a moment, then the look of understanding followed, "Ahh. Smaller and close to the original so the kids can learn it. Also, so the adults understand that with the small nickname, everything is ok, but the full version, pronounced right, means 'Shut up and listen'. Got it."

"Did you miss the adopted part? She knows!"

At almost two in the afternoon here, I heard her whisper, 'I'm off to bed.' as I felt her presence close to me. Next, came the burn on my cheek, followed by her soft, 'Goodnight, Love.'

Since I was finishing up my lunch, I decided to reach for her. 'Rest well, my queen. You have more than earned it today,' I said as I brushed her hair away from her face. She always looks so peaceful when she sleeps. I almost couldn't wait for the day when I could physically hold her again.

A/N--Still in hell.

#original writing #original fiction #twin souls #soul mates #soul connection #monsta x fic #kihyun fic #past life

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