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#anyway i just had to stop myself from going on another tirade about how i love alena i think we all get it by now 😂
skyloftian-nutcase ¡ 1 year
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“Have you ever wished you were dead?”
Legend abruptly stopped in mid motion as he was getting ready to sip some of his cider. He glanced at Warriors worriedly, a million thoughts blazing through his mind and choking in his throat before they could be spoken.
What ended up coming out was, "You've had way too much alcohol."
Warriors barked out a tired laugh and downed another sip just to seemingly spite his friend. He glanced at him from the side. "You didn't answer the question."
Slowly, Legend glanced away, getting his bearings. “…Yeah. Once or twice.”
Warriors hummed, his eyes unfocused again, staring off somewhere Legend couldn't reach. The travel nurse felt his stomach knot at the sight of it, and he put his drink down, growing nauseous.
"Hey," Legend piped up awkwardly and worriedly. "I... you... have you thought that?"
Warriors didn't speak. Legend waited. His friend stayed mute.
Growing more agitated, Legend pivoted so that he was facing his friend fully, one leg tucked under him while the other hung off the sofa where they were sitting.
"Look," Legend started, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his tone, unable to keep his own emotions under control at the turn this conversation was taking. "We've seen some shit, both of us. I'm not about to tell you how you should feel. I don't know what you've been through. But you'd better be damn sure I'll get on your sorry ass if you start thinking of different ways to die.
"I've had days where I wish I could just stop breathing. But you know what kept me going? Every damn shift in that blasted emergency department. Because as much shit as we see, we see why we do it, we see so many people dying but we see how precious their lives are too. Remember the fifteen family members for that one lady who died? Remember how many lives she touched? You... you remember that one guy, the one we all fought so damn hard to save and died anyway? You remember how he had no one, how we'd known him for all of a couple hours and it still hit us like he was our own? Don't you fucking dare for one one second think your life isn't important. I don't give a fuck if you think it doesn't matter, or you think you're worthless because you're fucking not."
Rising up from the couch, face flushed, he continued, "I don't care if your brain doesn't accept what I'm saying. I don't fucking care. Your perception of reality isn't mine, you got that? If you think you're worthless that doesn't mean the whole world does. It just means you need help. Because nobody should be thinking like that about themselves, okay? Like we all have dips and that's just life, but you should never want to die, you got that? If you're feeling that way you'd better fucking listen, because I'm going to--"
"Legend," Warriors interrupted quietly with a soft smile. "I'm not feeling that way right now."
Legend froze in mid tirade, mouth agape as he was about to continue ranting, and then he let out a shaky breath with a defeated, embarrassed, "Oh."
There was a long pause, and then Legend said, "Well, good. Thanks for scaring me, idiot."
Warriors laughed, reaching forward and grabbing Legend by the shirt and dragging him into a hug. Legend yelped and spluttered, but sighed in defeat and hugged his friend in return, melting into the embrace.
"You're right," Warriors said as he squeezed Legend even tighter. "No matter what our minds whisper in the dark, we shouldn't listen to it. There's too much at stake. Every one of us matters, and if our heads are ever in a space where we can't accept that, I also know there are others who care about me. I can live for them, if nothing else... until I can make myself a little better."
Easing up, he pushed Legend away just a hair so he could look him in the eye. "You know that you have so many who care about you too, right? It's not just everyone's life is precious except mine."
Legend rolled his eyes dramatically. "For the love of--I'm the one who just told you--"
"I'm not talking about what you said to me, Ledge. I'm talking about how you feel about yourself."
The travel nurse sobered and then sighed. "I know. I know others care about me. And I've seen what happens when people don't think that way, what happens to their loved ones who are left behind to pick up the pieces that you can never pick up. I never want to go through that."
His voice cracked and he snapped his mouth shut. Damn alcohol. He shouldn't have had so much. Pushing away, he rose and took a step from his friend to get some composure back. Then he let out a sad laugh. "Aren't we just a fucked up pair?"
Warriors chuckled at that, rising and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, but that doesn't change how amazing we are. Naturally, I'm a little more amazing than you--"
"Like hell you are."
"I'm clearly the better nurse."
"The only thing you have in spades beyond me is your fat ego."
"Nonsense, your head's pretty inflated, too."
"Maybe so," Legend relented, the fight draining out of him. He glanced at Warriors, suddenly open and vulnerable. "You... you do know I love you, right?"
Warriors' smile faded, just a hair, just enough for the gentle surprise to take hold as his eyebrows rose slightly. Then it returned, soft and relieved and so, so warm. "Yeah. I know."
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fukuokadivision1 ¡ 3 months
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Tasuku's Thoughts on OverDrive
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Eko Seishin
"'Mr. Aoi', himself? He's the closest thing Fukuoka has to a top-notch celebrity, I guess. ...But then again, since we're all part of this rap tournament that's sponsored by Chuohku, we've all been in the limelight. So... if you stop and think about it, doesn't that all make us kind of celebrities too? If so, it sure doesn't feel like it. I mean, aside from rapping in front of all of Japan, nothing about our lives has really changed. We're still doing the same old stuff that we've been doing long before..."
"Bah! Sorry, I went off a tirade there. Bad habit of mine. Anyway, this guy is sort of a bigshot here, but... you know, as good as he is, there are plenty of idols out there. He's just one face out of a billion others. ...Hey, sorry to say, but it's the truth."
Mai Yousei
"Like Sanyu mentioned, I met this person when she and I came to pick Ming up from work. Kind of a surprise for a person as weak and scrawny as them to be such a high-profile dancer. ...Or maybe, they've just been through some stuff and I should stop being so judgmental. Ming even mentioned that they haven't had an easy life too. ...Maybe that's why I caught Sanyu and them staring at each other, as if they knew what the other one had gone through. Kind of ironic that people in pain always seem to be able to find and commune with one another..."
Yuno Kamora
"Sanyu was kinda surprised to see a real-life butler. Not much of a surprise since she wasn't born into nobility like Ming and I were. Me, once you've seen one servant, you've seen them all. And truthfully, I didn't care much for the ones in my household. I didn't like forcing or commanding them to do anything that I couldn't do myself. My stepmom would say that that was what they were there for, but I didn't view it like that. I know they were just doing their jobs, but I hated relying on others to do things for me. That's kinda how I still am, to be honest."
"Anyway, I don't know much about this guy. He seems courteous enough, but that's about it."
OverDrive
"Not to quote Sanyu, but... what the hell, Chuohku? After all the drama you guys went to force Sanyu into your little game, now your adding another Fukuoka team into the mix? And let me guess, we're expected to face them in the semi-finals to determine just which of us is going to be the team to represent Fukuoka, right?" *sighs* "And you guys wonder why everyone has such hate for you all. Because you all pull crap like this and just expect us to be 'okay' with it."
"...Well, whatever. What's one more team, am I right? Nothing against these guys. They all seem like a nice group of people, but... if the choice is between us and you, then I'm choosing 'us'. Sorry. Hopefully there are no hard feelings after this."
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junebugtwin ¡ 2 years
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It’s kinda funny isn’t it? That they call it the butterfly effect? Because- y’know, bugs?
a bit of an experimental little comic here- had a lot of fun making it! This is a scene from early on in Worm,  ‘ Insinuation 2.4 ‘. I always thought that Gladly turning away here was very influential to Taylors development into Skitter/Weaver- and really, ultimately Khepri. It’s a small moment, just another tiny betrayal in a sea of much larger more dramatic betrayals, but sometimes that’s the stuff that sticks with us.
At the end of Worm Lisa has a really great speech about how Taylor never really asks for help- she just forces people to help by putting them in situations where they can’t say no. It’s such a devastatingly accurate read of her character, and I just think it’s cool that you can really trace that attitude aalllll the way back here. Why ask for help when you know people will only walk away if it’s inconvenient for them- to Taylor it’s much easier to just skip the middle man and force them to do it.
I’ve seen some people say that they’re tired of seeing all the ‘bullying stuff’ harped on in fanfiction about Taylor, about how it’s boring and actually didn’t matter all that much to her- that she gets over it and doesn’t care about any of it after doing all that crazy shit with the Undersiders. I vehemently disagree- the harassment campaign against Taylor, and the inaction of the authority figures around it fundamentally alters her perception of the world in a way that can be felt in nearly every chapter. Thinking that Taylors ‘over it’ just because Taylor thinks she’s over it is somewhat naïve- Taylor is already known to be a somewhat unreliable narrator. 
Anyway sorry for babbling! The quotes I took are down here if you actually want to read them. :->
“What does she use to wash her face?  A Brillo pad?”
“She should!  She’d look better!”
“Never talks to anybody.  Maybe she knows she sounds like a retard and keeps her mouth shut.”
“No, she’s not that smart.”
No more than three feet behind Emma, I could see Mr. Gladly leaving his classroom.  The tirade didn’t stop as I watched him tuck a stack of folders under one arm, find his keys and lock the door.
“If I were her, I’d kill myself,” one of the girls announced.
Mr. Gladly turned to look me in the eyes.
“So glad we don’t have gym with her.  Can you imagine seeing her in the locker room?  Gag me with a spoon.”
I don’t know what expression I had on my face, but I know I didn’t look happy.  No less than five minutes ago, Mr. Gladly had been trying to convince me to go with him to the office and tell the principal about the bullying.  I watched him as he gave me a sad look, shifted the file folders to his free hand and then walked away.
I was stunned.  I just couldn’t wrap my head around how he could just ignore this.  When he had been trying to help me, had he just been covering his own ass, doing what was required of him in the face of a situation he couldn’t ignore?  Had he just given up on me?  After trying to help, in his own completely ineffective way, after I turned his offer for help down twice, he just decided I just wasn’t worth the effort?
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m3thodicalmadn3ss ¡ 8 months
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Who Did This to You?
Been listening to some playlists and my hand slipped ;)
“Who did this to you?” The familiar voice might as well have been asking about the weather with its tone.
Theo huffed gingerly in response. Careful not to move his body an inch, Theo lowered his gaze from staring at the shadowy hospital ceiling to the owner of the voice standing at the foot of the bed. Because of course he was here, police guard and visiting hours be damned.
“Why,” Theo rasped – damn, this was already not going well, “so you can send them a thank you card?”
The figure’s blurry form shifted in the dark. “You always assume the worst of me. What happened to the clear, unprejudiced eye of journalism?”
It was a familiar line, usually delivered with a teasing smile or affronted gasp. This time though, the words felt a hair strained. Or maybe Theo was just too tired for their usual dance. “My bad,” he said instead. “Old habits.”
The figure shifted again, perhaps more awkwardly this time – it was hard to tell, between the darkness and –
“Could you hand me my glasses?” Theo asked, thankfully less raspy this time. “Can’t see shit.”
“Oh, right.” Nemesis finally came closer to the head of the bed, now a slightly brighter blur from the glow of the nightlight as he rummaged through the side table.
“They’re busted to hell,” he said after a moment.
Theo sighed. “Well, we’ll match.”
“Worse, if possible. You’re down a lens and ear loop. Twisted bad, too.”
Theo groaned. Of all the moments, it had to be when he’d just bought new frames. “Never mind, then. Probably wouldn’t have fit on my face right now anyway.”
“Yeah, the swelling’s pretty bad.” Nemesis straightened and came into Theo’s line of ‘sight’ once more. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Fuck you.”
Nemesis chuckled. “No, really.”
“…I dunno, four?”
Nemesis chuckled again. “Guess that means I can finally take this off.”
Theo froze as Nemesis’s blurry outline reached for his blurry face and he heard the click of a released clasp. “You sick bastard.”
Theo could hear Nemesis smile as the asshole pulled up a chair. “Careful now,” the man gloated, “swearing is bad for recovery.”
Theo desperately tried to squint Nemesis into view, to no avail. After all the teasing, cajoling, practically begging for a glimpse of Nemesis’s face off the record of course, promise, NOW the man decides to get comfortable. “I can’t believe you. This is the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
Nemesis dramatically inhaled. “The air really feels different without the filter, I should have tried this ages ago.”
“You-” Theo launched into a steady stream of insults, featuring several creative variations of ‘fuck.’ Nemesis’s shoulders shook with stifled laughter, further fueling Theo’s hushed tirade. There were supposed to be police around after all. Couldn’t risk getting interrupted.
“Back to the original question,” Nemesis interrupted, becoming suddenly somber. “Who did this?”
Theo stopped squinting, suddenly no longer interested in looking anywhere in Nemesis’s direction. “It was dark,” he said, quite unconvincingly.
“This isn’t a source for you to protect, Theo. They hurt you – who was it?”
“I’ll handle it myself.”
“By writing another article? You sure they didn’t come because of the last one?”
Theo winced slightly, then tried to pass off the slip as pain.
“Jesus, that’s it, isn’t it?”
“You can say ‘I told you so?’” Theo offered.
“I fucking told you so,” Nemesis snapped, rising to his feet, already reaching to clip his mask back into place.
“Don’t, please,” Theo said.
“You’ll still get to write your sequel,” Nemesis growled, then paused. “And they’ll get to read it.” It seemed to physically pain him to say it.
“I don’t agree with this.”
“That’s good, stick with that. Plausible deniability.”
“Christ, you could have just brought flowers!”
Nemesis barked a laugh as he turned to leave. “With your allergies? I think not.”
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undinegeist ¡ 2 years
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the only thing that matters (2)
(1)
- xx - nikki - xx -
We wake up, go for breakfast, though it’s more like lunch…she has a bathtub, doesn’t seem to mind me hanging out in it while she takes to the shower.
After last night, it’s like she doesn’t care how I see her…though maybe she never has.
I feel lightheaded and dazed, but that’s the withdrawal.
“What the fuck is bangers and mash? Sounds like an euphemism for sex.”
She smirks, then makes a face. “It’s disgusting, potatoes and sausages.”
Just the thought of it makes me want to throw up; I can’t tell if it’s the power of suggestion, but suddenly I feel sick.
She’s on pushing her water bottle over to me, clearly aware.
“Thanks.” I take a sip, try to stop thinking of sausages. “Not sure I can eat anything now.”
The restaurant smells musty, greasy, and it definitely isn’t helping…I need to stop being so fucking sensitive.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here and find something better, then.”
- xx - nikki - xx -
We’re at her place, eating pancakes with whipped cream…the only thing that didn’t sound sickening to either of us, bought from a corner store on the way back.
The thought that in a few hours I have soundcheck makes me want to die…I just want to lie here forever.
I slip down, down to her lap, hoping to get a nap so I don’t throw up breakfast when the withdrawal hits again…I need to be okay enough for the show, want to do it clean if I can.
Her fingers come over my hair, playing with the strands, slipping over my forehead, pulling back my bangs, back and forth, over and over.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to leave you by falling asleep.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Are you coming with me to the show?”
She doesn’t answer right away, but then there’s the careless tone. “Yeah…I’m probably fired anyway, after kidnapping you.”
“Will it help if I tell them I went willingly?”
“Probably not.”
“What will you do, then?”
“Stay as long as I can, find some way to not go home.”
“You could come with us.”
She snorts. “You don’t even know me.”
“We’ve seen each other naked a couple of times, you could have sold that story of going over the bridge with me to half the magazines in England and gotten enough to never go home, but you haven’t. That’s enough for me, and if it’s not for you…name your price.”
She’s quiet, no longer playing with my hair; I’m scared to open my eyes and see rejection, the craving starting to hit because I can’t stand the thought of being me…
“I’ll go if I can work for it.” The words come in a rush, her fingers back in my hair.
“We’ve got a deal, then.” I don’t open my eyes; don’t want her to see how much I care.
- xx - nikki - xx -
They’re all over me the moment I get to the venue; I didn’t think I’d need clothes, that what I’m wearing won’t fly; Y/N takes my room key to go get me something, clever in slipping away from my scolding.
I tell her that, and she smirks, that same old fire, eager for a little hell, probably why I like her so much.
“You’ll knock them dead yourself, but if you haven’t by the time I get back, I’ll finish them off for you.”
I want to kiss or fuck her, but all I do is smirk back; she squeezes my arm, disappears.
I don’t knock them dead, but that’s only because I can’t bring myself to care; I sit in silence while Doc whines about the show, thinking he’d have to cancel it, that I’d drowned in the river, that he’d have to drag it to look for my body…I can’t help it, I just laugh.
He’s not amused, but I knew he wouldn’t be; I don’t give a shit.
“When I’m dead, you’ll know.”
He glares at me. “Don’t you fucking tease me right now, Sixx.”
“I wouldn’t, if you weren’t so fucking stupid.”
“You jumped in the Thames in the middle of winter and I’m stupid?!” He’s getting red in the face; perfect.
I shrug. “I had a good time, and that’s the only thing that matters.”
He goes even redder, falls into another tirade; I’m only half listening…before I ran into him, I ran into Tommy, who slipped me something, though I don’t even know what…it’s enough to take the edge off the craving, long enough to keep me sane, which is all I need.
“And what the fuck is the chick doing here?!”
“Hmm?”
“The girl, the girl you brought with you. Please tell me you’re not married.”
I laugh, unavoidably. “Are you mistaking me for T-Bone, Doc?”
“Just answer my question, you little punk.”
I’m still laughing, but I give him what he wants. “She helped me give Fred the slip, so I figured she could come with us.”
“Come with us where, as what? Your date?”
I shrug. “On the tour, as what, I don’t care…she says she wants to work for it, whatever that means. I figured we could just hang out and she’ll do whatever she wants…”
He sighs. “Sixx, you try me.”
“That’s what we pay you for.”
“You don’t pay me…but fine, I’ll talk to her and draw up a contract…tell the others not to fuck her.”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me not to fuck her?”
He snorts, gives me a look I don’t like. “Foregone conclusion.”
He’s gone before I can kick his ass…goddamned little bitch.
- xx - nikki - xx -
Y/N comes back a little while later; I’m lying on my back in my dressing room, having kicked out some groupie who blew me…didn’t feel like getting in her.
She doesn’t even knock, just walks right in. “Your clothes are a fucking mess, but these were less than awful. Why is there a girl crying outside?”
“I didn’t want to fuck her. What took you so long?”
She rolls her eyes. “I had to go through all the shit on the floor to get these…I didn’t think it was possible for someone to make a bigger mess than me.”
“Wait til you see Tommy’s room, you’re lucky I was the one in the water with you.”
“Is Tommy the one with the stick legs?”
I laugh. “Yeah, that’s T-Bone.”
“He told me where you were…gave me a little something.”
A little something is, clearly, blow. “You can do it, if you want. I’m gonna wait til after the show.”
She nods, gets it out on the table, takes a straw out of her pocket, goes for it…I bite my lip, remember how it freaks me out to go on stage that way, why I need to hold back.
She’s wired immediately; finished it all off, thank fuck, or else I’d end up doing what’s left…I corner Tommy outside.
“Dude, got any downers?”
“You’ll fall asleep on the bass, Sixx.”
“Not for me…Y/N/N did all the blow you gave her, she’s gonna need it.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?” His voice is annoyingly accusing, but he hands a pill over.
“I’m not her babysitter…she had a straw in her pocket, clearly not new to this.”
- xx - y/n - xx -
“What’s that?” I take it from him, wonder if I can snort it too.
“Downer…you’ll need it, or go into a psycho sesh…you don’t want that, believe me.”
I roll my eyes, but swallow it down; he has the darkest smirk, and it takes everything in me not to bite him.
- xx - y/n - xx -
By the time they’re on stage, everything is perfect; the music is wild, just like the lights in my head, psychedelic.
It feels like two seconds and forever, and then he’s back, hugging me, and I really do want to bite him, for an entirely different reason.
We end up in his hotel room, somehow, the way a blur; he sniffs some, and then we’re half naked on the bed, doing fuck knows what.
I wonder for a second if this is a good idea, but then he has his teeth in my neck, and I don’t give enough of a shit to fight him, digging into his back, making him gasp.
We’re too wired to fuck, but we bite each other over every inch we can find, until we’re too exhausted to keep our eyes open, and then it’s all over.
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ink-on-the-brink ¡ 3 years
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Okay yes sorry for like putting in another but my goodness you’re great!! I hope it’s okay if I ask another but like, what would happen if the guys of your choice saw their partner hurt? Platonic or romantic up to you (:
No problem at all! Ideas are always welcome. Especially since I've had a bit of time on my hands! (aka I'm procrastinating on my other stories but shh)
Anyway! Here's Engie, Scout, and Soldier when their S/O is hurt because I put names onto a wheel and they popped up so yeah.
These are gonna be general headcannons that can be taken as either romatic or platonic.
Engie
If Hurt By Your Own Stupidity
Chances are you were messing around with a machine he told you not to touch.
If it's a small injury he'll scold you, telling you to listen to him next time. He won't help you. You have to learn your lesson somehow and if that means you have to drag your way to Medic, embarrassing yourself in the process, then so be it.
If it's a rather big injury he'll be rightfully angry. He's picking you up and carrying you to Medic with a string of mumbled curses at how stupid you had been and that you're lucky he was watching otherwise you might be dead. Even though he's angry you can still see the very clear concern on his face. Once you're all fixed up he's not letting you into his workshop for a while and becomes rather paranoid every time you have to.
He just doesn't want to see you hurt over a machine he built. He would probably never forgive himself if that's the way you ended up dying.
If Hurt By Something Else
Probably while helping him. Grabbing tools, maybe fixing up some wires if you're experienced enough.
Small injuries happen all the time. I mean you're messing around with electric wires and sharp objects here, it isn't exactly the safest thing. He always has an extra medkit in the room and won't hesitate to help you with a small cut or electric burn.
Larger injuries are an entirely different story. He goes blank, immediately carrying you to Medic. He won't leave until he knows you're 100% fine and afterward he'll be deathly quiet. You can see rather clearly that he blamed himself for you getting hurt and that he wasn't about to just forgive himself for it. Afterward he has a hard time letting you help again and finds excuses for you to do something else.
It might just be better if you stick to smaller ways of helping, not just for your own sake, but his.
If Hurt In Battle
If he sees it happen he knows it's better to ignore it. That's what happens in battle and at least during battle you guys have respawn. He'll most likely move his dispenser to where you are to help you out as best he can. He likely won't think twice about what happened...
That is unless whoever hurt you did so in a rather cruel way, enjoying seeing you in pain rather than working to complete an objective.
If that happens the person who harmed you becomes his main target. He won't compromise the battle with the urgency to kill them but it's pretty obvious that given the choice between them and killing anyone else, he'll choose them.
If he were to get close enough, and no one else is around, he'd hurt them and then just kinda sit there, letting them be in pain a moment while he maybe sets up one of his machines. If caught doing this he has about a hundred likely excuses. It was a Spy and he didn't want to deal with his dead ringer, he thought they were dead, another person came along that he had to deal with, pretty much never getting caught for doing it. Basically one of the only things that keeps him calm when he sees you hurt is the thought that he's going to make them suffer later.
Engie's a calm man but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to dish out revenge or hold grudges.
If Hurt By Someone On The Team
Ooooh boy, this isn't going to end well.
It was most likely not meant to be you who got hurt. Being Engies right hand(or left hand rather)meant you always helped him to de-escalate fights. Which meant you were probably only hurt in the crossfire.
That, however, does not stop the anger flowing through Engies veins.
A small thing is enough to get him angry. He rarely yells but in that case he will, silencing everyone immediately before going on an absolute tirade about how stupid they were all being. At this point people would be shocked enough to stop, meaning the goal was achieved but not without some sacrifice.
If you get really harmed though...
Engie's a calm man but he has limits. That just so happens to be one of them. He won't even stop the fight. He's immediately taking you to get fixed up. It's afterward that the consequences come.
He will talk to whoever was involved alone. No one's sure what happens but no matter who ends up seeing that side of Engie they always come out a bit shaken up and not willing to talk about it, though seemingly unharmed.
It's likely to never happen but if it does everyone will become just a little bit more cautious when around him or you.
Scout
If Hurt By Your Own Stupidity
You were trying to toss a baseball as high as you could into the air and catch it to try and impress him.
If it only managed to hit just a little bit of sense into you, aka your throw is weak, then he'll most definitely laugh, telling you to leave it up to the professionals.
If you managed to knock yourself out because your toss was godly but your catch was dogshit then he'd burst out laughing for a good five minutes. It's only after his laughing fit that he thought to help you. You'd have to give him a matching bump to keep his mouth shut about it.
If Hurt By Something Else
You two were probably setting up a prank and something went wrong along the way.
If only a little hurt he'd hold in a laugh and ask if you were alright, to which you'd glare at his hidden grin and say you were fine.
If you were actually hurt he'd go into a bit of a panic, quickly bringing you to Medic. The two of you most defiantly had to lie to get away with what you two had been doing. Unfortunately you were both really bad liars. Medic wasn't convinced but he also didn't care, thankfully.
You'd often bring up how scared he looked when you got hurt every time he tried to act like he didn't care about you that much. It never failed to get his tongue stumbling.
If Hurt In Battle
He's not one to care about a few bumps and scratches. He'll likely tell you to try to be as tough as him(he saids as he calls for medic over a splinter). He sees his job more as a game then a battle so it's rare he holds a grudge against anyone. He's maybe a bit more competitive from that point foward but not obsessively so.
Larger injuries and he's quick (litteraly) to dive into the heat of battle to help. More than often he ends up dead beside you but when he does manage to save you he's super macho about it. He'll say stuff about how much you needed him and how you'd never survive a day without him Even though most of the times you're the one pulling him out of those situations...
Just let him have his moment.
If Hurt By Someone On The Team
It was most definitely because you had annoyed someone, most likely Soldier or Heavy. This happens quite often.
If it looks like you're winning the fight he'll cheer you on. No need for him to get involved if you've got it handled.
If something really starts to go down though, he's on your side. There isn't a time where only one of you was beaten to shit, it always had to be the both of you.
Soldier
If Hurt By Your Own Stupidity
You were trying to rocket jump.
Literally just...Why did you think you could do that?
A small injury and Soldier won't even acknowledge it. Be that a bloody nose or a sprained ankle he's going to act as if you were perfectly fine, mostly because he seldom felt pain anymore and he had a hard time trying to recognize it in other people.
If severely hurt he's most likely going to explain to you everything you did wrong and you'll have to either scream for Medic or wait until he carries you there after his lecture.
You do dumb shit you deal with the consequences.
If Hurt By Something Else
Likely a sparring match that got out of hand or possibly a malfunction of a rather precariosly built weapon.
A small injury and he isn't going to care. If you make a big deal out of it he'll tell you to 'man up' and deal with it though it's more so in good fun rather than antagonism.
A large injury though and he's quick to help. He's calling for Medic and asking you to count how many fingers he's holding up. You'll say three, he'll begin to panic, saying that you must have broken your eyes.
He was, in fact, holding up three fingers...
Just don't question it
If Hurt In Battle
Small injuries are victories to him. If you're not at least a little banged up then are you really in a war?
If you for some reason can't walk though he's the first person at your side. Doesn't matter how many bullets he takes as long as you're brought to safety. He'll say something to the effect of 'don't die on me soldier! No, I am not talking to myself!'
After you're taken care of it's revenge time. He's gonna rack up a killing streak, your injury giving him the last bit of encouragement to win the round most of the time.
If Hurt By Someone On The Team
Defending honor! Whether it's yours or his, you are there to defend it and if that means getting a bit rough in the process then so be it.
If you're less injured than whoever you're fighting then, like Scout, He's cheering you on with probably a few insults to the other person as well.
If it looks more like you're losing he's still not going to intervene. He believes in you! You've got this!
If you end up knocked out though he's going to beat the shit out of whoever it was that defeated you. For your honor! (And because he just likes a reason to beat people up)
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serasvictoria ¡ 3 years
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So this entire thing basically came about because of a silly discussion and that gave me a small idea, but then this morning I got another one so I had to do something with it I guess.
@alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom, @vikingstrash, and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, this one’s for you.
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Sugar
You weren’t entirely sure when this entire thing had started, but you found it difficult to stop now. You kept coming up with the most ridiculous reasons to go up to Hvitserk and Ivar’s apartment and borrowing stuff from them was as good a reason as any. It had all started with the oldest trick in the book.
“Sugar?”
“Yeah. I ran out.” Hvitserk was having a hard time not laughing out loud at your, quite frankly ridiculous, request. “Do you guys have any?”
“Probably? I’m in charge of the snacks, I don��t buy any of other stuff. That’s Ivar’s job.” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen and you followed him. “This may take a while.”
You stood in the doorway as Hvitserk started pulling open all the cabinets and drawers. The way that he kept bending over made it feel like he was giving you a show of kinds and you really didn’t mind that one bit, because Hvitserk always wore the skinniest jeans known to man and they emphasized his long legs and his ass perfectly. You made small mental notes of the things that he pulled out of cabinets so you’d know what to ask for at a later time. Rice, pasta, honey, tea bags… you could keep this ridiculous thing going for ages.
“What the fuck are you doing!” All your attention had been so incredibly focused on Hvitserk’s ass, that you nearly jumped a foot in the air when Ivar suddenly materialised next to you. “Look at this mess!”
“I’ll put it back,” Hvitserk waved a hand in Ivar’s direction and didn’t even bother to look up. “She needs some sugar.”
“What!” Ivar looked at you and then back at Hvitserk again. “And why the hell would we keep the sugar down there?”
“I don’t know, man.” Hvitserk sat down on the floor and smiled at you apologetically. “Do we even have any?”
“Of course we do. We’re not fucking heathens.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Someone might want sugar in their tea.”
“Who?” They’d probably never even had anyone over that drank tea. Beer seemed to be the usual beverage of choice. “So where is it?” Ivar moved into the kitchen, opened the door of one of the top cabinets and pulled out a bag of sugar. “Ah. I was going to look there next.”
“Yeah, sure you were.” Ivar hit Hvitserk’s leg with his crutch and then handed you the bag of sugar. “Bring that back when you’re done.”
“Sure thing. In case anyone wants sugar in their tea.”
Hvitserk snorted with laughter and before Ivar could deliver a scathing reply, you muttered a quick goodbye and got out of there as fast as you could.
“Sugar? What the hell kind of excuse was that?” Hvitserk shrugged and started putting everything that he’d taken out back in again. “You’re doing it wrong, moron!”
You had no idea how many things you had borrowed by now, but after going through almost the entire contents of their kitchen you decided that you needed a new approach.
“DIY?” Hvitserk scratched at his chin as he regarded you curiously. “I know how to use a hammer if that’s what you mean.”
“Good enough for me,” you replied with a smile. “I need to hang a mirror and I’m not allowed to go near hammers anymore.”
“Not allowed?,” he said with a laugh. “You got told off by the DIY police?”
“Something like that. Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He didn’t have to know that you always fixed everything in your apartment yourself. This was just a little white lie to get him into your apartment. “Could you do it for me?”
“Sure. You need me to do it right now?”
“Tomorrow?” You needed time to set your little plan in motion. It would be ruined if he came with you now. “Say, two in the afternoon?”
“I’ll be there.”
He shook his head when you walked away, headed back into the living room and dropped down on the couch.
“What did she want now?”
“DIY.”
“What the hell.” Ivar sighed deeply. “This has been going on for ages. Why don’t you just ask her out already?”
“What? I think it’s cute.” Hvitserk threw a handful of popcorn in Ivar’s direction. “Are you jealous?”
“Why the hell would I be jealous?”
“You know what, why don’t you go round tomorrow and hang that mirror for her.” Ivar was ready to launch into a tirade about how their downstairs neighbour obviously had the hots for Hvitserk, but then his brother used the same line that he’d been using for many years. “Or are you chicken?”
“Fuck off.” Hvitserk started making chicken noises from his sofa until Ivar threw the remote at his head. “Fine! I’ll go! Fucking asshole.”
*****
The idea that you’d had was absolutely fucking genius. It was foolproof.
You’d leave the front door ajar (that was the only part that was slightly risky), Hvitserk would come in, call your name and you’d tell him that you were in the bathroom. He’d walk in, find you completely naked because guess what? You’d run completely out of towels. You would ask for his shirt to dry yourself off with and voila, he’d finally end up in your bed. Surely a guy like Hvitserk would appreciate the effort that you’d put in, right?
You knew he liked you, because he’d started flirting with you from the moment that you’d moved in. His brother, Ivar, was also hot as hell, but he was more difficult to gauge. Hvitserk was easygoing whereas Ivar was standoffish. It hardly mattered now anyway. You’d finally get Hvitserk where you had wanted him for a while, that was the most important thing.
He’d be here at around two. You knew that punctuality wasn’t exactly his thing, so you had taken it into account that he might show up a bit later. Again, it didn’t matter. You’d stuffed all your towels into various clothes drawers to really make it seem like you had just magically run out at the exact moment that he’d shown up. You got out of the shower a little bit before two, just in case Hvitserk was going to be on time, but left the tap on to make it seem like you’d forgotten at what time he was going to show.
A voice called out your name and your heart started beating furiously inside your chest. This was really happening. “I’m in here!” You turned the shower off and swore just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m so sorry! I forgot the time. Just thought I’d have a quick shower.” You pulled the door open, water running down your skin in little rivulets and you put your hand on your forehead to feign stupidity at your current situation. “Can you believe that there aren’t any…” Ivar was standing on the other side of the door, eyes wide and looking you up and down. “...towels left…” For a few seconds, you thought about attempting to cover yourself up with your hands, but it was probably a little bit too late for that now. “Oh fuck.”
“No towels?” He squeaked and then cleared his throat. “How does that even happen?”
“Clumsy?”
“That’s not clumsy, that’s just plain stupid.” You saw his lip curl up as his eyes roamed up and down your body again. “You want me to go back upstairs to get you a towel?”
“What I want is your shirt.” Ivar looked at you with raised eyebrows, not entirely sure what you meant with that. You had somewhat expected that Hvitserk was going to be the one to come to your aid, but Ivar hadn’t exactly run out on you just yet so you just rolled with it. “To dry myself off with.”
Ivar didn’t respond immediately, briefly making you think that this absolutely genius plan had failed completely, but then he took off his shirt in one fluid movement and handed it to you. You had to work really hard to stop your jaw from dislocating when you finally caught sight of his toned chest and used his shirt to cover your face for a few seconds so you could regain your cool. Then you held it in front of your body and gave him a look that you hoped was seductive.
Instead, Ivar took his mobile out of his pocket, aimed the camera at you and took a picture. He tapped on the screen and then you could hear a noise that told you that he had just sent a message. You wanted to ask him what he had just done, but he simply held his finger up to you to silently indicate that you had to wait. About a minute later, you heard a great big crash coming from upstairs followed by loud swearing. You could hear Hvitserk stumbling around in the back of their apartment where his bedroom was which was promptly followed by more swearing.
Ivar turned the screen in your direction with a smirk to show you that he’d just sent a picture of you to his brother and that Hvitserk had sent him back a message that simply read “HOLY SHIT”.
“He’s typing again.”
You moved in close to Ivar so you could look at the screen together and then another message popped onto the screen.
“I am coming downstairs. NOW.”
Ivar put the phone back in his pocket and reached out so he could squeeze your ass. “He was still in bed when I went downstairs so what do you say about us getting started already, hm? To give him something to walk in on?” You giggled and then nodded quickly. “Good girl…”
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Take My Hand (Part Two)
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Summary: you thought it was enough, you thought it was what it deserved, but it wasn’t. it never was. (one of three four parts)
Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader
Word Count: 5,395
Song: I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life (tolerate it by taylor swift)
Warnings: T, implications of sex, so much angst, some swearing, 
A/N: again thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera​ and @qvid-pro-qvo​ but also @laneygthememequeen​ for giving me feedback and listening to me ramble as i continue to write this series. thank all of you for all of your wonderful comments/reblogs - every one gave me the motivation to keep writing! Also i made these timecards to account for the passage of time since we will be jumping through years quite a bit. 
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“Why did we agree to  letting him shadow us again?” Rafael whispers to you, glancing at Sonny working at the conference table — his irritation evident, “it doesn’t give us a lot of time alone.” 
“Well, he’s a law student and a new detective, I’m trying to show him the ropes, and who's the one who got home late last night? Besides, he said he’d buy us coffee to thank us,” you lean away from him, nudging him, mouthing ‘be nice,’ “have you taken Criminal Procedure yet? Or Evidence?” 
“I’m taking Evidence right now, but this is nothing like learning about it in class,” he was flipping helping you root through the discovery that the defense had buried you in — a typical Buchanan maneuver, “Did you always think you would be a prosecutor?” 
You snort, “No,” and Rafael even looks up from his work, and you shake your head, “Well I thought I would go corporate at first, make some money to support myself, invest properly and then retire, but a year into doing that, I hated it. I ended up leaving without barely making a dent in my student loans.” 
“Ouch,” Sonny shook his head, “and you came here? Do you regret it?” 
“I’d be interested to hear the answer to this,” Rafael leans forward, resting his chin on his fist. 
You scoff at him, considering it — did you regret it? “I don’t,” you say, “although I’d be way less in debt, I wouldn’t be happy — I wouldn’t be helping victims, I wouldn’t be getting justice, and I wouldn’t be working with you two — “ Rafael’s gaze softens, “and here, I’m happy,” and you catch Rafael smiling at his desk, before adding, “except when Barba doesn’t get his coffee.” 
Sonny guffaws, trying and failing to hide it with a cough, “You want to get us some coffee, Fordham or are you too busy pulling a muscle from laughing?” 
“Alright, alright,” he holds his hands up in surrender, grabbing his jacket, before leaving, the office door swinging shut behind him. 
“Would it kill you to be a little nicer to him?” Rafael shrugs, rising from his desk, and wrapping his arms around you, “Raf—” 
“Better him than me, right?” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “I liked it better when he had the mustache.” 
You laugh, shaking your head, as he sighs against the crook of your neck, “Just be nicer to him okay? He’s really trying here, and he’s a good detective.” 
“What’s with the sudden interest in Fordham?” 
You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “His name is Sonny, and he’s sweet — I’m trying to help him out, and you should too. He looks up to you.” 
“Lucky me,” you press a kiss to his lips, “it’s not fair when you do that—” 
You kiss him again, your tongue tasting him, his mouth following yours as you slipped away back into your seat, “Be nice.” 
“As long as you’re nice to me tonight,” he replies, just before Carisi returns, coffees in hand. 
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“I hope the shadowing has been helpful, I know Rafael can be an ass—” you shrugged your jacket off, slinging it over your arm, walking beside Sonny, the detective insisting on walking you home. 
“Well he wouldn’t be Barba otherwise, would he?” and you snort, glancing at your phone to see a text from him — working, will be late. Your place? 
“Well you’re right about that,” you tucked your phone away, seeing Sonny run his fingers over his chin and mouth, “missing the stache?” 
“Not really, no, but Rollins made a remark that I looked better with it,” he bites his lips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “what do you think?” 
You purse your lips in mock thought, holding your chin,  “No, I think I prefer this look,” you laughed, “You look good.” 
“Oh I look good? Really?” and he raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you bump him with your shoulder, “come on, counselor, you can’t play coy.” 
You step in front of him, “Oh yeah, definitely — you’re a real heart stealer,”Before turning on your heel and continuing to stroll, “do you want to grab a drink?” and you didn’t catch the way he was looking at you as you walked away from him — his eyes shining in the low light of the streetlights. 
“Yeah, I’d love to.” 
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“We know this guy is guilty,” Amanda told you two, her arms crossed, “but we can’t get past his troop of lawyers to get anywhere close to his employees.” 
Liv leans back in her chair, “So, why don’t you two do your job and get this guy on charges for us?” 
You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face, “You don’t know that for sure, Liv, and even if you did — it goes against the justice system to just entrap people without a fair process first. We can’t do our jobs, until you guys do yours—” 
“We can’t get more evidence until he’s indicted — he’s too smart, he won’t expect it, he’ll get sloppy,” Liv looks at Barba for support, and as do you, lips a thin line, and he sighs. 
“We’ll get a grand jury together, we’ll send out subpoenas, and see where we are at—” 
You gape at him, “Rafael—” 
“I don’t know counselor, this could be risky—” Carisi steps forward, brow furrowed, “Lieu, she has a point — we take this now, we wouldn’t get another shot at him.” 
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Rafael waved him off, “book him, now.” 
Liv and Amanda left, while Sonny hung around his desk, as you pulled Rafael aside, “Rafael, you literally went over my head—” 
His eyes narrowed, “We need to build a case—” 
You scoffed, “SVU builds the case, we prosecute it — we’re not in the business of using indictments to get our evidence,” you looked around the precinct, eyes flitted away, and you pulled him into Liv’s office, shutting the door, “you undermined me, my opinion—” 
He says your name, “You know I value your opinion but—” 
“Not as much as Liv’s,” and it’s his turn to gape at you, “you know this case doesn't have enough — and you’re pushing it through anyway—” 
“SVU cases are not open and shut—” 
“No case is open and shut— otherwise, we wouldn’t have so many innocent people die of the death penalty would we?” you grit your teeth, “you handle this case — if you want to take a half-baked case to a grand jury I won’t stop you, but I won’t be cleaning up your messes either.” 
He calls after you, but you leave without another word, stepping into the elevator, the doors shutting until a hand stops them — but it isn’t Rafael, “Counselor,” he steps in after you, hitting the ground floor button — the doors shutting, “are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” his eyes fell on your fisted phone, knuckles white. 
“Your phone would beg to disagree — you’re aboutta crack the screen with your grip,” and your cheeks burn, slipping the phone into your pocket, “you know Lieu has a tendency to become a little blinded when it comes to the victims, she—” 
“I know, Sonny, and most of the time I find that admirable about Liv, but it’s our jobs as prosecutors to bring justice — and that’s not just for the victims, but it’s for society,” your eyes look the ceiling, blinking away hot tears of frustration, “pushing through cases like this isn’t justice — it’s reckless,” the elevator doors ding open, and you slip through, expecting to be alone, but Sonny still follows out the doors of the precinct. 
“I get it,” you huff, slowing to a stop, “I do, really. I may be a cop, but I want to be a lawyer too, and to be one, you gotta see both sides, don’t you? But what do you do when things are gray?” 
“You search for the truth,” 
His lips twisted in a frown, he asks, “and if you can’t find it?” 
“Then you look for the closest thing to it, but this, a fishing expedition—” you shake your head, “this isn’t it.” 
He nods, jerking his head, “Come on, let’s grab a coffee,” 
“I should get—” 
He smiles, “I’m sure Barba won’t mind the extra time to lick his wounds, you really chewed him out,” 
You raised an eyebrow, “How much of our conversation did you hear?” 
“Not much after you went into the office, but it was still obviously heated,” you feel anger sting at your eyes, the heat rising in your body, and instead of fury — it came in tears, how convenient, “but for what it’s worth, I value your opinion a lot, counselor. And I know Barba does too,” he adds, and you follow as he leads you away from the precinct, “he’s just not showing it well.” 
You glanced at your phone — Going back to the office, can we talk? — “No,” you reply, “No he isn’t.” 
But did he ever? 
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“Where’d you learn to cook anyway?” your legs were slung over Rafael’s lap one Sunday morning, as he fed you another forkful of the huevos rancheros he had made,  “I thought you lived off coffee and Forlini’s.” 
“Ha, ha,” he kissed you, licking the bit of sauce left on your lips, “well consider it my way of making up for what happened with the case. I am sorry about that, you know that right?” 
“I do,” you open your mouth and he feeds you another bite, “but don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging the question, Barba.” 
He purses his lips, “How about we just say I learned for you and leave at that?” 
You frowned, “Raf,” he fell silent, the gears in his head turning, “you don’t have to talk about it, but you don’t have to lie either.” 
He starts softly, even as he stabs the eggs with his fork, “When my dad went off on one of his tirades, Mami wasn’t in any shape to cook, and she wouldn’t want to ask Abuelita since that would involve telling her what happened — so I would cook for us.” 
You lean over, pressing a small kiss to his cheek, “You never talk about your father,” 
“What’s there to talk about?” he replies quietly, “he married my mom — he was amazing at first, and then just like that,” he snaps his fingers, “he changed. When they got married, he had permission to be the person he always was — angry, disgusting, abusive. He made her cut off everyone out of her life, made her miserable, abused her, abused me—” he cut off, setting the fork down with a clatter, “but still, I see him every day when I look in the mirror — and I wonder if I’m any better than him at all.” 
“Rafael, look at me,” you slide closer to him, your fingers intertwined with his, when you tilt his chin up, “you are not your father — far from it. You help victims get justice, you help them tell their stories, you are a good man, one of the best men I know.” 
He sniffs, a small smile on his lips, “Even when I don’t get my coffee?” 
You roll your eyes, shifting again so your knees are either side of his lap, sitting properly on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Even then — Raf, you are so good, I just wish you’d see it — I wish you’d see yourself.” 
He leans up to kiss you, gently, “Maybe I can see myself through you,” he murmurs against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours, and you sit in silence for a moment — in peace, before he finally breaks it, “I think it’s because of him that I’m so scared of us — I don’t want to be him.” 
“You could never be him—”  
“But you don’t know that,” he replies, his gaze falling to his lap, dark, as he shifts you softly off of him, “not really.” 
“Rafael—” he rises from the sofa, his back turned away from you, as he heads to the bathroom. 
“I need to shower.” And he leaves you there, without another word. 
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“Working late again?” Sonny poked his head into his office, “it’s 2 AM counselor, isn’t anyone expecting you home?” 
You don’t look up from your work, “I could ask you the same — what are you doing here?” Sonny lifted his scarf off your bookshelf, folded neatly on top of some stacked books and briefs. 
“I just finished my shift at the precinct, and thought I’d drop by and see about picking this up,” he glanced at Rafael’s office, light closed, “No Barba?” 
“No, he headed home for the night,” more like you had insisted on him getting some sleep tonight, plying him with sweet kisses, until finally he left — but now you were left with the work to take care of, “I’m wrapping up some work,” you yawn, stretching, blinking at the detective still standing in your doorway, “aren’t you heading home?” 
“Yeah, I’m just waiting on you — the cases will be there in the mornin’,” he steps forward, offering you your coat, “come on.” 
You pout, “But I didn’t get what I said—” 
“Is it something that can be done tomorrow?” 
“Yes, but—” he shuts off your desk lamp, holding your coat out again. 
“I’ll walk you home,” and you sigh, looking between your work and his hand, before hauling yourself to your feet. 
It was not another ten minutes when your stomach started growling, to which Sonny raised an eyebrow, “Like to share something with the class?” 
Your cheeks burned, as you bite your bottom lip, “I may have forgotten to eat today,” and Sonny shook his head. 
“You don’t sleep, you don’t eat — do you and Barba just run on coffee?” 
“And spite,” you add with a shrug, “how do you get time to eat? You’re constantly running around all over the place.” 
“You have to make the time, whether that’s me eating in my car or taking a half hour to go grab a slice, maybe next time I’ll invite you along,” his hands slipped into his pockets. 
“I’d love to right now, but I am a little sick of takeout, and I think I rather crash at this point,” you rubbed at your eyes, “food can wait until tomorrow.” 
“You need to eat, counselor, or your stomach won’t let you,” his brow wrinkled in thought, “do you have anything at home?” 
“Nothing prepared, I have some things frozen, but nothing that’s ready—” 
“I’ll cook you something, dinner—” he glanced at his watch, “I think it's closer to breakfast at this point.” 
“Sonny, you don’t need to do that—” 
“I want to — to thank you for letting me shadow you and Barba,” his smile is so warm, “I assume he wasn’t too pleased with the idea at first.” 
“You don’t need to thank me — it’s fine—” you started, but he cut you off. 
“Are you hungry?” you pouted, as your stomach growled again, “Strike that, you are, and do you have the energy to cook?” 
“No, but—” 
“No buts, come on,” he clapped his hands together, you stood, biting your lip, “are you not okay with this?” 
“It’s not you, Sonny—” it was the concept of this — having a man over late at night, and you trusted Sonny, you did — he was your friend, but it felt misleading, “I just want you to know I’m seeing someone, kind of.” 
He raised an eyebrow, “Kind of?” 
“It’s not a relationship, but it kind of is — we’re keeping things casual for now,” you licked your dry lips, but your throat was a desert compared to it, “I just don’t want to mislead—” 
He cut you off, saying with your name, “It’s fine,” he offered a small smile, “I get it. Consider me friendzoned — now are you hungry or not?” 
“I am.” you hurried along in front of him, shivering in the cold, not noticing his smile slip from his face. 
“How did you learn to cook?” You were told to sit at your island, watching Sonny root through your fridge, “also, I’m sorry again for the state of my fridge, I’m not home a lot so—” 
“Trust me, I get it,” he pulls eggs, cheese, and a can of tomatoes from the fridge, “and I learned from my mother — she had her handful with my sisters, so sometimes I would cook with her or for her. I got used to it and I liked it.”
“Am I allowed to help or do I just watch?” he crossed his arms, evaluating you, making you sit up a bit straighter. 
“Have you ever poached eggs before?” your expression was enough of an answer, “how about you leave the heavy lifting to me and just do what I tell you.” 
“Yes sir,” and you missed him smiling at your cheeky reply, “What’s first?” 
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“We both have the same weekday off?” you drop your purse and jacket on his chair, as he pulls you into his arms, “has that ever happened before?” 
“Not in what? Three years of working together?” he trails kisses down your neck, tugging at your collar, “we can’t waste it.” 
“What are you implying, counselor?” you say in mock surprise, as he walked you backwards, pressing you to the nearest wall. 
His eyes lidded and dark, as his fingers toyed with the buttons on your button up, “I’m implying that I want to spend the day f—” 
There was a knock on the door — both of your heads snapping over. You whispered, “were you expecting anyone?” 
“No?” he whispered back, “it might be someone from the squad, wait in the bedroom—” 
You rolled your eyes, as he strode over to the door, straightening his clothes, and adjusting himself noticeably, to which you snorted — earning you a sharp look over his shoulder,  before you slipped into the bedroom, door shut. 
You heard a woman’s voice speaking, heels clicking against the floor. You pressed your ear to the door, but there was no need because the voices grew louder,  “The bedroom is a mess, Mami,” 
Shit. 
There was nowhere to hide in here — but you didn’t want to come off looking rude either — you spotted Rafael’s headphones and a book on his bed stand. 
Well, oblivious is better than idiotic. 
You adjusted your clothes, sitting on the bed, playing music on your phone loudly, flipping the book open to a random page, just as the door opened, “Now, what could be so bad that you don’t want your own mother to—” She cut off, when she saw you, and you peered up, mouth agape — in fake (and real) astonishment, “well hello.” 
“Hi,” you slipped the headphones to your neck, before pulling them off, setting the book side, as you looked from a bewildered Rafael to his appraising mother, “you must be Rafael’s mother, Lucia,” you introduce yourself, holding out your hand, “I work with your son at his office.” 
She repeats your name, elbowing her son, “This is who you’re always talking about?” 
“Excuse me?” you raise an eyebrow at a flustered Rafael, the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose a beautiful red. 
“Mami, I think I neglected to tell you that—” 
“That you and your gorgeous co-worker here are seeing each other? It would seem so,” she slaps him lightly with her purse, before talking your hand warmly, “it’s very nice to meet you, dear. I apologize for my son’s lack of disclosure—” another pointed look at her son, “I wouldn’t have interrupted your day off together otherwise—imagine if I used the key you gave me.” 
Rafael blanched at the thought, his eyes desperately trying to apologize to you, but you kept your eyes on Lucia, “There’s no need to apologize, I’m sorry for surprising you—” you smiled, your nerves pushed to the very edge — imagine if she had walked a few minutes later, “is there something you need from Rafael?” 
“Not in particular, I was going to ask him if he wanted to join me for lunch— I just cooked his favorite, but now that I see he’s busy—” 
“No, you both should go,” you wave her off, “I don’t want to step on any plans—” 
“Why don’t you join us?” Lucia offered, elbowing her son, “if that’s okay with el juez here?” 
“Of course,” he cleared his throat, his smile sincere, “join us, if you want to.” 
Well how could you say no to that? 
“This is delicious, Lucia,” you and Rafael helped her pick up the table, insisting on her sitting, “thank you again for having me over. It means so much.” 
“I was happy to — my son’s personal life has always been a bit of mystery to me,” she walks over, pinching his cheek, “mijo has a mouth he doesn’t mind running except when it involves his personal life.” 
“Mami,” he warned, and she lifted her hands in surrender. 
“On that note, I’m going to wash up, and I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself to the bathroom, washing your hands, and just as you began to step out, you heard them whispering. 
“So what’s the story here, Rafi? You’ve been together for quite a while — any chance you’ll be popping the question anytime soon?” 
Your heart thumped against your ribcage, leaping out of your chest, “It’s not like that between us, Mami — we’re together but—” and your heart sunk in the same motion — down to the floor, “we’re not serious—” small smack and Rafael’s ‘ouch.’ 
“Do not be such an idiot that a keeper will wait for you this long — it’s a miracle you’ve been together this long,” you hear her sigh, “not serious? The way you look at each other? Rafi, not every person is Yelina—” 
“This isn’t about her,” he cuts her off, exasperated, as you rest your forehead against the trim of the bathroom door, “I know what I’m doing.” 
“You know what you’re doing,” she repeats, the clink of the dishes in the sink, “I hope you do, mijo, or you’ll regret it.” 
Regret, you thought, squeezing your eyes shut — you knew a little something about that, as you slipped from Lucia’s apartment, the door shutting behind you. 
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There was urgent knocking on your door — and you placed your book down. Well, this was inevitable. 
You had been avoiding Rafael since the lunch with his mother — taking shifts and working out of your office. He had been texting and calling — you hadn’t been replying — the temptation regulated to the charger in the kitchen. He wanted to explain, he wanted to talk — but he always wanted to explain, he always wanted to talk. And he always talked his way back into your pants with plying words and sweet kisses. 
But now there was nothing more to be said. He left nothing else to be said. 
Even so, it wasn’t his fault entirely  — it was your fault for letting this get so far. 
And why had you let it get so far? That was the one question you couldn’t answer yourself. 
And now, you steeled yourself as you approached the door — you supposed he wanted to have it out in person. 
“Who is it?” you asked, arms crossed. 
“It’s Sonny,” you blinked, his voice unsteady and weak, as you threw open the door, finding him grim faced and dull, the color pulled from his face. 
“Sonny, what happened—” 
“Can I, uh, come in?” you stepped aside, letting him in, shutting the door behind you, and he didn’t sit down — or rather he couldn’t. He paced the length of the room, his eyes on the ground, arms across his chest. 
“Sonny?” you ask hesitantly, as you approach him, his back turned, “what’s wrong?” He faces you, tears streaming down his face, “Sonny—” 
“I’m sorry,” he blinks, wiping away the tears, “I’m fine, I shouldn’t’ve come here, I just—” his voice breaks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, “I didn’t know where to go.” 
“Sonny, stop, you can always come here,” you squeezes his shoulder gently, “sit down, please.” You lead him to the couch, spotting red specks of blood on his neck and on the collar of his shirt, “what happened?” and he tenses, “we don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?” he buries his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, hunched over, “let me get you some water—” 
“Look, I don’t need water — I just need—” he stammers, “please, just stay beside me, please?” 
And you did, your hand reaching for his, fingers slowly intertwining with his longer ones — even with how gentle Sonny was, with how he dwarfed you in size never failed to surprise you, but then again, he was always full of surprises, wasn’t he? His hand was warm and soft, engulfing with its heat, but trembled under your touch. You squeezed it every few minutes, the ones you sat in silence in, to remind him that you were still there — that he wasn’t alone. And you would never leave him to be alone. 
His first words were quiet in an already still room, “Barba has kept you updated on the Quinn Berris case right?” you nod — the woman who had been raped by her stalker, Ray Wilson. Wilson had been arrested by Sergeant Tom Coles four years ago, “We found out that Quinn wasn’t raped by Ray Wilson — it was Coles.” 
Your jaw dropped, “Coles did it—” 
“We went to his house, to confront him,” his voice shook as he spoke, his eyes hard, fixed on your carpet, but he was somewhere else now — back in Coles’ home, “I moved slowly, I did everything by the book, and I turned around, and he had his gun to my head.” 
“Sonny,” you squeezed his hand again, “what happened?” 
“I thought he was going to kill me,” he swallowed, his eyes unblinking, “I can still feel the metal brushing my forehead, following me as I put my gun down,” he leans back, arms crossed again, “I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t do anything. I could hear myself talking, but I didn’t know what I was saying — it was like everything was underwater. If Liv didn’t shoot him—”  
“But you’re okay, Sonny,” you pulled him closer, arm wrapped around his shoulder, “You’re alive.”
“He didn’t have to die,” he whispers, “he could have just surrendered.” 
“He didn’t want to, Sonny,” you shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks, “he had lost everything, and he wanted to die — and he wanted someone else to go down with him. But you didn’t.”
“You know in the moment, I didn’t even pray,” he gives a bitter chuckle, “years of Catholic schooling and church, but in that moment all I could think of was my family, the squad, you,” he shakes his head, “I’m sorry for coming over and unloading this all on you — I didn’t mean—” 
“Don’t apologize,” you brush away your tears, your hands gently pulling him into a hug, “I’m just so glad you’re okay, Sonny.”  
He rested his chin on your shoulder, finally shutting his eyes for a moment, a peace washing over him for a moment, “Me too.” 
“Not a minute is promised, is it?” you whisper, pulling away, and he shakes his head. 
“Not a second,” and your thoughts fall away to your phone — to Rafael. It could have been him today — or any day. Was it worth holding a grudge, if it meant you wouldn’t see him again? That your last words to him were nothing but silence? 
“Let me get some water, Sonny,” and he nodded, leaning back on the couch, as you slipped away, grabbing a glass, as well as your phone. 
Rafael Barba: Mi amor, please, I’m sorry. Can we talk? 
You: I’m busy today, but tomorrow, we’ll talk. 
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“We need to talk,” your office door opened — night had long fallen, the chatter and bustle of the office long died away in the darkness, the washed out fluorescent dimmers flickering in the halls — and there was only one person who would be opening your door right now. 
Rafael stood in your doorway, his knuckles white against the doorknob. Rafael’s brows knitted together, his mouth twisted in a scowl. You leaned back in your chair, raising an eyebrow, “not here.” 
“I can’t step away from this—” 
“You can make time for this,” he hisses, eyes narrowed, but you don’t budge, arms crossed, and he shuts your door, locking it, pulling the shutters down, “You went over my head.” 
You weren’t going to deny it, “I did,” you had went to Jack, talked to him about your concerns about the case you two had been handling together, another case slapped together that Rafael was trying to push through to trial — and you finally had enough, “You didn’t give me much of a choice—” 
“There was a choice — you could have talked to me—” you scoffed, flipping your file closed, “what is that supposed to mean?” 
“Rafael, you’re pushing through cases I don’t agree with — cases without enough information, forcing taxpayer dollars to be used on cases that will not succeed, and yes sometimes that’s necessary, sometimes we have bad cases, but sometimes you’re casting a stigma on people who end up being innocent—” 
“And sometimes casting a stigma is all we can do to warn other potential victims—” 
“And sometimes it just ruins someone’s reputation, and our own when we end up with lawsuits for damages,” you cross your arms, rounding your desk, “just because Liv coerces you into pushing through cases—” 
“Is that what this is about? That you’re jealous of Liv?” he snaps, and you laugh — a bitter noise you don't recognize, “I never thought you would ever let our personal problems affect your judgement.” 
“First of all,” your voice was an eerie calm, a deadly frigid cold permeated your words, “this has nothing to do with your personal life — this has to do with protecting the integrity of this office,” and it was his turn to scoff, "and second of all, what is there to be jealous of, Rafael?" you cross your arms, "We fuck — that’s it. Period. That’s all we are to each other. A warm body, nothing more and nothing less. You’re too busy saving the rest of the world to care.” and you wouldn’t allow your voice to crack, even though you could feel yourself crumbling with every word that you spit like venom — poisoning him and you from the inside out, “we're not serious,” you echo his words, a sinking feeling in your gut. 
“That was out of context—” 
“It’s not out of context when I heard the entire conversation, Rafael,” you shake your head, turning away from him, to look out your window — lights dotted the streets, the city very much alive with so many other places to be. 
His reply is quiet, “Is that all I am to you?” 
“I should be asking you that,” you sigh, clutching at your forehead, “no matter how much we talk about it — how much we try to fix it, we can’t. We can’t. Call this a failed experiment, call this nothing, say it never existed, it doesn’t matter. It’s done.” 
“No,” you shake your head, grabbing your jacket, brushing past him when he tries to stop you, his hand brushing your shoulder — and you knew what he would do again — ply you with kisses, whisper sweet lies that covered the bitter truth, patching shreds that fell to pieces—  “no, mi amor—” 
“Don’t call me that,” you whirl around, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes — but you hoped your words stung more, “don’t call me that when you never loved me.” 
And they did. 
He whispers your name, “Please—” 
“I can’t do this,” you shake him off, walking out the door, “not now.”
And maybe not ever. 
270 notes ¡ View notes
one-boring-person ¡ 4 years
Note
Are you taking requests for Top Gun?? If so could I get a Maverickxreader where he and reader like each other, but reader thinks him and Carole, from the first one, are a thing. So she avoids him until he has enough and goes to her and angst argument about it all and then they end up together! ❤️❤️👉🏼👈🏼
I am indeed taking Top Gun requests, so keep 'em coming! I hope you like this!❤💛
Don't Lie To Me.
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader
Warnings: angst
Masterlist
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They're together again. As close as ever, shoulders nearly touching as they sit across from Wolfman and I, faces beaming with broad smiles as always, clearly happy as Larry, neither of them noticing my slight discomfort, my gaze swiftly averting from his handsome face. Maverick eyes me briefly, taking note of my suddenly quiet disposition, offering me a smaller smile than the one he was carrying before, Charlie following his gaze, smirking as she sees me, the gesture stirring up a mixture of jealousy and longing within me. As usual, Wolfman continues the conversation without me, already aware of my discomfort and situation, trying to make this as easy for me as possible by taking their attention away from each other, allowing me to fight the internal conflict raging inside me in silence, my mood becoming more and more sour as the minutes pass.
"I heard we have another mission later? Have any information for us, Charlie?" The man beside me inquires, setting down his fork and sitting forward in his chair.
"I don't, I'm not at liberty to say anything." She denies, smiling apologetically around at us.
"What, is it classified?" Maverick teases, his tone striking a chord inside me - he used to tease me in that voice, but lately he's stopped. Probably due to his newfound relationship with our civilian officer, the thought of which makes me tense up, inadvertently tightening my grip on my fork.
"Correct." Charlie grins back, eyes sparkling cheerfully as they stare at each other, completely ignoring Wolfman and me in particular.
Biting my lip, I shove my chair out from under the table and stand, muttering some barely audible excuse as I take my plate to the clearing station, aggressively emptying all the leftovers into the bin before replacing the cutlery and plate in the tray nearby. I leave the room very quickly afterwards, nearly bumping into Viper as he goes to enter the dining hall, a hurried apology leaving me as I salute him and carry on down the corridor, my feet director themselves to my room. On my way, I encounter a few other commanders and senior officers, saluting them all as they pass, trying not to let my emotions show, though they are doing their best to reveal themselves. Upon arriving at the door to my room, I unlock it and let myself in, going straight to the vanity table, where I lean my hands on it, peering into the mirror.
I'm not surprised to see that my face is contorted into some weird grimace, clearly showing the struggle to repress the raging emotions within me, sweat coating my forehead in a glossy sheen. Lifting a hand, I swipe some of it away, wiping the moisture onto the fabric of my trousers, my eyes falling on a Polaroid on the top of the desk, the familiar photograph portraying Maverick and I on our first day out of pilot school, back when our friendship was very much platonic. Slowly, I pick it up, running a thumb over the creased surface, smiling slightly at our excited expressions, remembering the day in perfect clarity.
A sharp knock on the door snaps me from my thoughts.
Spinning, I smooth out my hair and go to it, opening it to whoever is standing outside, my heart dropping when I see who it is, my expression probably falling, too.
"Can I help you?" I ask, keeping my voice level as I look up at Maverick, butterflies fluttering in my stomach as they always do when I lay eyes on him. I try to ignore them as best I can.
"Yeah, I want to talk to you. Can I come in?" The pilot informs me, normally confident demeanour faltering slightly.
"I guess." I respond flatly, allowing him in. Instead of sitting on the chair he usually takes, Maverick chooses to stand, keeping his eyes trained on me as I close the door and stand with my back to it, looking anywhere but at him. For a good few minutes, we're silent, as if searching for something to talk about, the tension thick enough that it's nearly suffocating.
"What did you want to talk about?" I finally ask, making eye contact for the first time.
"Why you're avoiding me." He simply says, lifting an eyebrow.
Clenching my jaw, I try not to feel embarrassed that he's noticed my attempts to stay away from him and his girlfriend, though I should've known he'd find out eventually.
"I'm not avoiding you." I counter, lying through my teeth.
"Don't lie to me, (Y/n). You're avoiding me, and have been for weeks now. I just wanna know why." The pilot responds, rolling his eyes a little at me, an action which draws some irrational anger into me.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I continue to deny, knowing I'm just digging myself a hole now, but carrying on doing so anyway.
"Why are you lying to me? You and I both know you've been ignoring me!" Maverick's voice rasies slightly, his body tensing up as he becomes angrier, grey eyes piercing through me.
"I'm not! I don't know what you mean, so if there's nothing else you want to talk about, then I think you should leave!" I curse myself internally for saying that, knowing I may well have ruined our friendship with that one sentence.
"Are you being serious right now?!" He exclaims, stepping closer, his jaw sharply defined as the muscles in his neck become rigid, "You're actually trying to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about? Don't be so stupid, (Y/n)! I know you better than anyone else, and I know when you're lying!"
His venom shocks me, but I suppose I deserve that, continuing on with my tirade in an effort to get him to leave, my heart already agonized at the thought of him returning to Charlie to complain about me.
"You think I'm lying? Then fine! Think that! But if I am ignoring you, it's none of your business why! So just drop it and go!" I snap back at him, pointing at the door as I take a step closer.
"I'm not going until you tell me why you're avoiding me, and why you felt the need to lie to me!" He argues back, expression betraying the hurt he is feeling, the sight of it tugging at my heartstrings painfully.
"Why do I need to tell you? It's none of your business!" My voice is nearly fully raised now, my cheeks flushed from humiliation and frustration. Why can't he just leave it alone?
"Because I'm your friend, and I care! If you just start randomly ignoring me, then I'd at least like to know why!" Unfortunately, he has a point, but his use of the word "friend" is like an arrow straight to the heart.
"Well, I don't want to tell you, so just go back to Charlie and leave me alone!" I blurt out, stopping in my tracks when I realise what I said, Maverick clearly realising this, too.
"That's what this is about? Me and Charlie?" He sounds exasperated, which only fuels my anger.
"Of course it's not! I don't care who you're in a relationship with, it's not like I like you like that anyway..." my voice trails off as I once again figure out exactly what I've said, only now realising how close we are, our faces mere inches apart.
My pulse races in my ears as he stays silent, a variety of emotions flashing over his face as he takes in what's been said, the tension between us growing as we breathe in unison, breaths heavy and loud in the quiet. My jaw clenches briefly, before I feel myself being pulled forwards, soft lips suddenly connecting with mine in a searing kiss. Surprised at firstĂą ibstary to hesitate, only to reciprocate seconds later, my hands instantly coming up to grip at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as his move from the back of my neck to cup my cheeks, his lips moving quickly with mine.
As we pull away, gasping for air, confusion wells up in me, as well as a dull sense of horror at the thought of kissing a taken man, even if he initiated it. His fingers lightly stroke my cheeks, eyes look in appreciatively over my face as I release his hair, my hands moving to his chest.
"What about you and Charlie?" I manage out in between breaths, still reeling from being kissed.
A low chuckle escapes him, the sound resonating in his chest under my hands, his crooked smile creeping onto his face.
"Charlie and I aren't together, we never were. I just needed some advice on something from her." He reassures me, stroking back my hair lovingly.
"Advice? On what?"
"How to finally tell you I like you." Maverick grins as he presses another, more gentle kiss to my lips, "I didn't realise that an argument was the way to go."
I giggle at his joke, slapping his chest, playfully.
"I never knew you felt the same way. If I had, I'd have initiated the argument much earlier." He continues, laughing at the crimson blush dusting my cheeks.
"Shut up." I grin, looking away.
Smirking, he leans down to press a kiss just below my ear, before whispering quietly to me.
"Make me."
422 notes ¡ View notes
lesdemonium ¡ 4 years
Text
romtober day 19: yelling first kiss
Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 1977 Summary: Jaskier gets very jealous when Geralt shows interest in someone else.
read on ao3
Jaskier played on, fingering the strings of his lute like he was born to do. The crowd was eating it up--Jaskier had been impeccable at winning their favor. A well-timed wink, a smirk in the right direction, blowing a kiss or two. They were eating right out of his hand, and nearly everyone was dancing, singing, or at the very least stomping their feet. To his crowd, Jaskier was irresistible.
His witcher, however, was another story entirely.
Geralt was not paying attention. This wasn’t entirely surprising--when Jaskier performed, Geralt really only seemed to have a perfunctory interest in what Jaskier was presenting. Though Jaskier ate up any attention he could get, he couldn’t fault Geralt for this. After all, Geralt was his first critic every time, of every song. By the time Jaskier’s songs made it to the public, Geralt had heard every iteration of the lines possible. Even a robust love would temper and fizzle under circumstances such as these, and Geralt had professed no great love for Jaskier’s “pretty lies,” as he often called them.
However, it was not simply that Geralt was not paying attention that was eating at Jaskier--it was that he was paying attention to someone else . Jaskier prided himself on his ability to read a room while also performing, and he had tracked the changes as they were happening.
There, Geralt’s eye was caught by something-- someone --just to the left of Jaskier. At first, Jaskier had giddily mistaken it for a glance in his direction, only to quickly grow hot with shame as he realized that the look was not meant for him at all. As Jaskier turned about the room, he saw the object of Geralt’s interest, and the young man was just as interested back, if his furtive glances were to be believed. Jaskier thought, with no small amount of hope, that this was where things would end. Geralt didn’t often express interest in men, and he even more rarely did anything about his interest.
This time, however, boldness came down to the newcomer. Jaskier missed the moment he stood up--Jaskier had been far too distracted by flirting with a young woman who, in return, gave him a very generous tip. When Jaskier had his wits about him enough to check, the man was gone entirely, only for Jaskier to find him at Geralt’s table.
The worst part, the part that made Jaskier’s heart sink into his chest, was that Geralt was smirking at the man. How many times had Jaskier gone to Geralt with that very same stance, to get nothing but icy stoicism in return? Now this man walked up with half the swagger Jaskier had, like a dimmer, duller version of the bard himself, and he would have the honor of Geralt’s bed?
Jaskier had a performance to attend to. Adoring fans. Pretty women with prettier smiles, handsome men with eyes that sparkled in his direction. Jaskier would just have to hone this energy, this itching beneath his skin, this hurt in his chest, and aim it toward a more worthy nighttime companion. But every time he tried, he caught a snippet of the conversation Geralt and this stranger had, or his eye landed on the way the man was now touching Geralt’s arm, and Jaskier’s blood coursed through him, icy hot and devastating.
He couldn’t decide what he wanted to do, how he could process this better. Should he continue playing, to try to distract himself, or should he end his performance now, leave his audience wanting more, and leave to lick his wounds? The decision was made for him, however, when Geralt and the man left the tavern. There was no continuing after that, after the silent, delicate rush of pain as his heart chipped off just a bit more. Jaskier finished his set, thanked his audience, then retired to their room.
When Geralt found him, Jaskier was nothing more than a lump on the bed, curled up inside himself and pretending to the world he did not exist. Dramatic, certainly. But to fight against one's own heart was futile at best.
Geralt snorted. “Don’t tell me. You drank too much too early, and now you’re already hungover?”
Jaskier didn’t answer. No barb, no sarcastic retort, nothing. He realized, in an absent sort of way, that he probably should have, as that reaction was far more likely to convince Geralt to leave him alone. Still, he said nothing.
“Some lady broke your heart, then?” Geralt teased further. When Jaskier only huffed, Geralt shoved at his shoulder. Jaskier waved him off. “You’re melancholy tonight. Come on. Up.”
His order was paired with a, quite frankly, rude display of strength by pulling Jaskier up and off the bed. Jaskier stumbled as he was forced to his feet, and fell face-first into his witcher, much to his own personal embarrassment. Jaskier shoved Geralt off with a scowl.
“Leave me alone, you great brute!” Jaskier snapped, his hands landing on his hips. “I don’t appreciate you man-handling me in whatever direction you prefer!”
Geralt’s smile was small, but still managed to be shit-eating all the same. “You were on my side.” He shrugged, then pushed past Jaskier and onto the bed.
“Oh, no, definitely not,” Jaskier said, stepping in front of Geralt again. “I am not sharing a bed with you. You are--are sweaty and--and.” He paused, and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Geralt. Geralt hardly looked as if he had just had a romp in the hay, as it were. He looked entirely too put together, his hair barely even mussed. Not even the slightly swollen lips that would evidence a particularly heated makeout session. “Why do you look so…. Sheveled?”
Geralt raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself. “Sheveled?” he repeated.
“You--I saw you! I saw you leave with that man. Why do you look so damn put together?” Jaskier’s hands went back to his hips. Geralt was trying to make Jaskier look like a fool, Jaskier knew it. He would not stand for it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Now, though, he grunted, and avoided Jaskier’s gaze. Instead, he turned his back on Jaskier.
“The hell you don’t! Gods, you must think me the stupidest man alive. I pay attention, Geralt. You can’t just act like I have no clue what I’m talking about whenever I hit on a subject you don’t care for.” Jaskier didn’t want to know, not truly. He couldn’t imagine a subject he wanted less details about than whatever Geralt and this man got up to. But now that he had started in on it, he couldn't stop. He was powerless against himself.
“Jaskier, drop it.”
“No, Geralt, I don’t think I will! You’re the one that condescended to talk to me when I so clearly wanted you to leave me alone , I think it’s only fair that you now have to deal with the consequences of that decision! I saw you . I saw that you were interested in him. So why are you here ? Why are you decidedly unfucked ?”
“Why do you care? What do you need to know of what we did or did not get up to?” Geralt crossed his arms and turned to give Jaskier a hard look, but Jaskier could not stop this forward momentum. Apparently, his mood had turned him self-destructive.
“You go in for that now? You’re so rare about showing affection for men, I had convinced myself you weren’t interested at all! So, what was it about him? Was it his look? I suppose he was handsome, in a common sort of way.” That was a lie. Geralt’s taste truly was beyond reproach, but Jaskier had to dig anyway. “No surprise you like them bold. After all, your last fixation was Yennefer. So, tell me, Geralt. What exactly is your type?”
“What are you--” Geralt started, but Jaskier interrupted him. Jaskier could see the confused look on Geralt’s face, he didn’t want Geralt to voice his questions. Jaskier was half afraid he’d answer them in his tirade.
“And then you don’t even fuck him! Even he wasn’t good enough for the great Geralt of Rivia? Is anyone? No, you just need to exert your own might over everyone. Get their hopes up and then leave and go back to your own room as if nothing happened!”
“You’re mad that I didn’t have sex with him?” Geralt sounded amused. Jaskier did not find the humor in this.
“‘I’m the White Wolf, I’m ridiculously handsome with a body sculpted right from the Gods themselves, I like to force bards out of beds when it suits my needs and force them to talk and when I leave with someone I don’t fuck them because all I really want to do is make people fall in love with me and remain cooly detached from everyone because I apparently get off on it .’”
He wasn’t aware of when he started yelling, but he was definitely yelling at Geralt now. And all Geralt did in return was smile at Jaskier. It infuriated him further. Jaskier would have much preferred if Geralt took the bait and yelled back, turned this into a ridiculous fight. Instead, he smiled. He looked as if he was trying not to laugh. And, oh, if that didn’t make Jaskier feel as if he was on fire.
“Jaskier, are you jealous?” Geralt asked, and his smile turned crooked.
“Of course I’m not jealous!” Jaskier retorted. His face felt hot as the embarrassed flush spread over his whole body. “You are a brute! You just--just do whatever you want with no regard for how those around you might feel. It’s-It’s selfish, it is! And I will not put up with it, and-and--” He stopped, abruptly, and suddenly he felt short on air. Jaskier was so worked up, he could hardly focus on anything beyond the way Geralt was stepping closer to him.
“Why do you care what I did or didn’t do with him?” Geralt asked, and his voice was soft. So soft, so gentle, something in Jaskier’s brain broke.
“Because it wasn’t me !” he exploded back, and closed his eyes in his shame. There would be no coming back from this. Not from the yelling, from the odd ranting, nor from the confession. Jaskier wished more than he had ever wished for anything to just be burned on the spot.
Instead, though, he heard Geralt come closer. He felt the warmth of Geralt’s hand just before it delicately cupped Jaskier’s jaw, turning his head just the slightest bit up. Jaskier melted into the kiss, his bones turning loose, liquid, as he stumbled forward into Geralt’s chest again and grabbed at something, anything, to hold onto. Jaskier’s fingers twisted into the soft, worn fabric of Geralt’s shirt, and Geralt caught him with a hand around his waist.
If they had stayed there even a moment longer, Jaskier would have forgotten his own name. He didn’t think he needed it anymore.
“It wasn’t you,” Geralt agreed. They pulled away, only to breathe, which hardly seemed worth it to Jaskier now. Geralt’s words were hot on Jaskier’s lips and it took a moment before Jaskier’s brain caught up.
“Of all the times to kiss me, you choose when I’m hysterical and yelling at you?” Jaskier groused, but his words held no bite. Especially not when paired with the desperate way he was pecking at Geralt’s lips.
“I wasn’t sure. You’ve never been so jealous before.”
“He… reminded me. Of me. But you liked him , I didn’t think you liked me .”
Geralt hummed, and captured Jaskier in another long, thorough kiss. “I do,” Geralt said, after, and Jaskier almost forgot what they were talking about. That was okay, too. Jaskier had done quite enough talking tonight.
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allygodot ¡ 3 years
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Taking Accountability
My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee. I’m a 27 years old graduate of Chicago Law School living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am a heterosexual Christian, but am an ally to the LGBT community. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. These are all things my followers should know about me, so why am I telling you this? Well... what if I told you it was all a lie? I’m sure this is coming as a shock to a lot of you, and I sincerely apologize to everyone I’ve hurt with my deception. It is my hope that this post will clear up any misconceptions that have been spread about me, whether I spread them myself or otherwise, and that in the future there will be no animosity between us. I don’t expect to be forgiven nor do I deserve it, but if there is one thing I learned from my time in the church it is that all I can do is ask for mercy and hope for the best. But first... I think an explanation is in order. If all that isn’t the truth, then what is? It all starts in college, that nebulous period of my life that everyone keeps asking about and I keep bringing up. Before I went to university, I had always been completely unremarkable. I had always had the kind of fair weather friends who enjoyed my company, but never felt to invested in me. Combined with my status as a middle child, I always felt like I had something to prove to get people to like me. I would say and think whatever I needed to for them to stick around another day, and I’m sure you are familiar with what that means for teenage boys. I acted immaturely because it was what was expected... and anything outside of that was looked down upon it even forbidden. I never thought much of it at the time, but I realize now that I wasn’t allowed much self-expression when I was always trying to conform to their standards. Everything changed when I met him. My assigned college roommate, Anton, was everything my years of conditioning had taught me to distrust. Despite his tall stature, he was emotional and sensitive... even vulnerable. Even so, he wasn’t afraid to be unabashedly himself. The first thing that struck me as unusual about him was his clothing... he almost always wore pastel pink or yellow and I hardly ever saw him without his long, checkered scarf. His nails were always painted with a clear, glittery polish, and I don’t think he ever skipped a shower in his life. His hair was always soft and smelled like strawberry even at a distance... all this to say he immediately struck me as fruity so I wanted nothing to do with him, at least initially. Despite his kindness to me, I would always respond with either the cold shoulder or open scorn, which only amplified the more I learned about him. I discovered pretty quickly that he was a furry, since one day I came home from a day of classes to find a decapitated pink cat head on our couch. He patiently explained the whole culture to me while I glared at him skeptically, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. He even brought out his paws and tail and told me he was saving up for a full suit despite my open disgust. Looking back, I still have no clue why he put up with me during that time. Another curious aspect of Anton’s life was his addiction to a certain television series called “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” His room was filled with merchandise from stuffed animals to figurines, and I had nothing but disdain for the tacky and embarrassing decoration. I was afraid that if I ever brought a girl over to our apartment she would notice and make all sorts of incorrect assumptions... I couldn’t handle the embarrassment. I tried on multiple occasions to convince him to hide them in a secret box or something, but he always just smiled and shook his head. I even tried to sneak into his room and collect all the ponies for donation once, but he had anticipated this and hid a playful trap for me... I reached forward to grab one of his overpriced statues and immediately got a face full of multi-colored snakes. I was livid of course, despite it being my own fault for trying to pawn of his collection in the first place, but he wasn’t even phased by my tirade. I suppose he was 6’5” and I was (and still am) only 5′7″... but still, I had at least expected him to be somewhat apologetic if not fearful. Instead, he just laughed and told me I should watch the show with him sometime. I obviously had no intentions of taking him up on his ludicrous offer... until he promised that if I didn’t enjoy the show, he would move all of his ponies into a case that he would throw a big curtain on whenever I said the word. I reluctantly agreed on those conditions, positive that this was a bet I couldn’t lose. I still remember that night like it was yesterday. He lead me into the pony chamber and sat down on his bed, taking out his laptop to pull up his favorite episode. It was “The Canterlot Wedding” two part season finale, and although I initially protested that I only agreed to watch one episode, I eventually relented once he reminded me what the prize was. I was hesitant to sit beside him on his bed and lean over his shoulder to look at the small screen, but he assured me that it didn’t bother him at all. I wasn’t particularly concerned with how he felt about it... it was more so my own pride I was worried about. Nevertheless, I sat through the whole episode with him despite myself. Although I was disturbed by the tendency for his long and curly hair to gravitate into my mouth while I rested my cheek against his shoulder, I found the episode to be surprisingly enjoyable. The song in particular surprised me with it’s musicality... by the end of it I didn’t want to leave, but I was far too embarrassed to admit that to him earnestly. I told him I was interested in the show purely for the songs and that it could benefit my studies as a music major, but that he still had to uphold his end of the bargain since I was by no means enjoying it. He just smiled and put on another episode, and before I knew it the sun was rising outside his window. I realized just how tired I was and turned to tell him I would be going to bed only to discover he had fallen asleep. I began to suspect that he must have been asleep for several hours, letting the auto-play functionality do his job for him while he rested up for his exams. Although I was scandalized, I was impressed by his tactical prowess... he had managed to trap me in his room, since I couldn’t move from my spot without disturbing his slumber, and he didn’t even have to be awake to do it. Begrudgingly, I spent the rest of his room, until eventually the faint aroma of strawberries lured me into the world of dreams... This arrangement continued for quite some time. When I got home from my classes, Anton would ask me if I wanted to watch some My Little Pony with him and I only agreed so long as he put the curtain over the cabinet next time I asked. He always obliged whenever I asked him to conceal his collection, but eventually I stopped asking for him to do so and only reminded him not to break our contract before every episode out of habit. It became a ritual for the two of us to do this every night, and even once we had finished all of the episodes we would just watch them again. I found that I was becoming endeared to this eccentric man... and as much as I tried to resist it, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell a bit in my chest whenever he would run his fingers through his hair or tighten his scarf around his neck. I told myself it was nothing... but it wouldn’t remain that way for long. I don’t know what possessed me, but one night I thought I would get to know Anton a little better. I started by asking if he was single, which to me seemed like an innocuous question, but the very fact I was asking seemed to amuse him. He told me that he was having trouble finding a guy who wasn’t immediately turned off by all the ponies, and I made sure to snidely comment that he shouldn’t be going out with guys anyway even though it made my heart skip a beat when he said that, as well as mention that if he would just give up his collection there wouldn’t be an issue in the first place. I don’t know what I was expecting, but he asked me the same thing: how was my love life going, especially considering my new hobby? I couldn’t help but get flustered and start making excuses. I told him that there was no shortage of girls lined up to date me, but that I just wasn’t ready to make a commitment yet. I spun a whole story about how a girlfriend would only hold me back... I almost forgot that the standard that Anton accepted was completely different from my old teenage friends. He wasn’t impressed that girls were apparently lining up to get a piece of me... he just seemed amused that I thought such a thing was realistic, much less desirable. He didn’t understand that compulsive need to lie at all... he thought it would be better if more guys admitted that they were vulnerable. That was the first time I’d ever heard someone say something like that... I suddenly felt extremely exposed, and before I knew it my eyes were full of tears. My first instinct was to cover my face with my sleeve and hide my shame, but he was already firmly gripping my arm and holding it in place. He told me that I didn’t need to hide anything from him. He asked me if there was anything he could do to help me... and so for what felt like the first time in my life, I told the truth. It was supposed to be just to try it. I wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy it, I just thought that if I got it out of my system all of the unnecessary feelings would finally stop tormenting me... but all they did was grow stronger. I kept telling him that I was still looking for a girlfriend and that once I got one this whole arrangement would end, but eventually I realized that there was no point in lying to myself anymore. I wasn’t ever even sleeping in my own room anymore. I hadn’t so much as glanced at any dating websites in weeks. I was committed, whether I wanted to admit it or not... and I didn’t want to admit it. I only wish that I had told him how I really felt when I had the chance... One of the many things we started to share, which seemed the most inconsequential to me at the time, was a webpage. Anton was the owner of a small subreddit dedicated to My Little Pony fursuits, and he asked me if I would be willing to help him moderate. It wasn’t something I felt qualified to speak as an authority on, since even as I became more open about my love for ponies I still didn’t really feel connected to furry culture despite accompanying him to several conventions, but I was willing to do basically anything just to please him. My job was mostly to stop people from publicly “yiffing,” and although it was a grueling line of work it wasn’t thankless. Anton was a poet with words of affirmation. Many of the compliments he paid me were certainly undeserved, but they motivated me more than anything else ever had... but I got too zealous. There was a certain user on the server who for the sake of protecting privacy, we shall call XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX. As a member of the subreddit they were of course a brony and a furry, but what made them stand out was their dedication to the Flutterdash ship. They were constantly posting couple’s cosplays of themselves dressed as Rainbow Dash, but the Fluttershy in each picture was always different. They were also exceptionally sociable and aggressively tried to make friends with everyone on the tiny subreddit... Anton and I included. I wasn’t so keen on pursuing another friendship that could very well ruin my reputation, but of course Anton was immediately taken with the idea. The two of them exchanged contacts and hit it off instantly, and I started having trouble sleeping at night because he was awake in the early hours of the morning texting his friend in another timezone. He always paid me just as much attention as always during the daytime, but once he saw that his new friend was online he would crawl out of bed to go converse with them in another room. He was trying so hard to be considerate of me, and perhaps it was selfish for me to expect that I would always be able to sense his warmth and scent beside me while I slept... but at the time I was blinded by jealousy. One fateful morning, he excitedly woke me up to tell me that XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX had gifted him tickets to a major convention, and that the two of them were planning to cosplay Flutterdash together. He apologetically explained that he would be gone for a few days since the convention was halfway across the country, but sensing the disturbance within me he assured me that he could probably convince his friend to let me tag along as Applejack... she was always my least favorite. It didn’t matter what Anton said to encourage me, because I was never going to accept any consolation until this threat to our sacred relationship was eliminated. I had to find a way to get rid of XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX by any means necessary... In a fit of rage, I whipped out the ban hammer and beat my rival to death with it, metaphorically speaking. It was a blatant abuse of my privilege as a moderator and I am ashamed to admit it now... but at the time all that mattered was covering up the evidence. I knew I had to come up with an excuse for why I had banned them, so I added a new rule to the subreddit: Flutterdash was prohibited. The news was not met with acceptance from the other members of the community. To some more in the loop with the situation, it was obvious that I had only banned XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX because of a petty personal dispute, but others saw it as nothing but an unfair rule. I was accused of being biased towards other ships like Flutterchord or Appledash and that I needed to accept other people’s ship preferences, or even that I was homophobic and couldn’t handle the thought of lesbian characters in my favorite show. Chants of “mods are gay” could be heard across the subreddit from all sides of the debate, and everyone was rallying for Anton to remove me as a tyrannical moderator. Sound familiar? I can’t help but notice some similarities between my situation and Mo the one over at Kristahlia Week... maybe that is why the drama captivated me so.  Anton tried to reason with me, bless his heart, but at this point I had completely devolved back into my screaming teenager mentality to cope with all the rejection. He was obviously disappointed in me for what I had done but he had no reason to believe it would ruin us... he couldn’t have handled it better. It really was my fault that things happened the way they did, but I refused to take accountability. What I told him still haunts my conscience to this day, even six years later. I told him that I never loved him, and that I was only using his companionship to fulfill my carnal desires. I told him that I didn’t care about what he did with his life as long as he didn’t do anything that kept him away from me. I even told him that I still thought he was disgusting and embarrassing. And the worst thing is... in that moment I meant every word. I was so selfish... I genuinely forgot that I loved him and treated him like he only existed to serve me. My actions were truly despicable and I deserved to suffer for it... and I did. For the first time, I saw Anton cry. I should have been there to comfort him like he did for me on that fateful night, but instead I let him run out of the house to go suffer by himself. By the time I realized how horrible I was acting, it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. I came home the next day to discover all the ponies in the apartment finally gone... isn’t that what I had wanted? My moderator status on the subreddit had been stripped away, and I had been banned by all of the members of the group on nearly every social media platform. Another classmate later informed me that Anton had transferred to a different college... and that was the end. I have no idea what happened to him after that, but I can only hope he is doing well. Instead of taking this as an omen that I should improve my behavior, I began to become even more bitter than I was before I met Anton. I acted like my relationship with him was just an experimental phase that was doomed to fail from the start, and soon I was denying that it ever even happened at all. I convinced myself that the problem in our relationship was that I wasn’t supposed to be with men, and so I began to insist that I was straight and aggressively seek out relationships with women just to prove it to myself. I also started searching for strict moral codes that could give direction to my life... which is when I found the Church. I was attracted to their beliefs because they gave a very clear outline for how someone’s life should go and promised ultimate happiness to anyone who could fulfill the requirements, so I began to obsess over meeting those requirements. I wanted a Christian wife that could bear me many children not because that is how I wanted to live my life, but because that is how other people wanted me to live my life... and all I wanted was for others to tell me I was doing something right. The congregation was distrusting if me at first, and although they never said it to my face I know it was because they were aware of my past. Hardly a woman would come near me, and looking back on it I can’t say I blame them. The ones who were desperate enough for a husband to give me a shot were quirky repulsed by my egotistical behavior, which certainly didn’t help my reputation. Throughout all this, I still somehow told myself I was the victim because I didn’t want to admit that I had become the villain again. For a long time, the only person in the parish who would willingly hold a conversation with me was Lana. She was a fellow member of the choir and a devout believer in God, but she was often judged by the rest of the congregation for being an open lesbian despite her faith. She tried to convince me on several occasions that I didn’t have to perform any sort of identity to impress anyone and that I should “just be myself,” but I insisted that I knew what I was talking about. Eventually, she decided my well-being wasn’t her responsibility and gave up on trying to reason with me, but nonetheless she still treated me more kindly then many of the other churchgoers. I believe that my “dark past” is what drew Gabriella to me in the first place. She likely hoped that we could act as covers for each other until she figured some way out of her situation, but unfortunately I was too far gone to be of any help. I convinced myself that she was really in love with me and that she would be walking down the aisle soon enough. Whether or not I was really interested in her or just interested in what she represented I’m still not sure... but she truly was a wonderful person who didn’t deserve to have to suffer through my baggage. When she left me I was truly devastated... so much so that I even began to go through another crisis of belief that I recorded on this very blog. All I have to add is that I no longer bear any resentment towards Lana or Gabriella, and only wish them the best of luck. My relationship with Krissy began almost immediately after my breakup with Gabriella. I was desperate to regain the status I supposed that I had lost along with my girlfriend, so I latched onto the first woman who showed me any sort of positive attention. Her death and my downward spiral are all well-documented on this blog. I didn’t want to blame myself for her passing as well, so I developed a conspiracy to rationalize the whole ordeal. I even tried to act like a completely different person to try to keep the blame as mentally distant from myself as possible, but that didn’t work either. In the end, this is my cross to bear alone. So that brings us to now. What will become of allygodot? The truth is, I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t think that is the most important thing right now. I realized last night when I was looking at that art of Diego and Godot as Happy Tree Friends characters that I desperately wanted to be anyone other than myself... it really opened my eyes to the level of repression that had been burdening me since the incident six years ago. I realized that if I wanted to change, sitting around and thinking about how things could hypothetically be different isn’t going to do anything. If I want to make progress and truly become a better person, I’m going to have to act better, not just tell myself that I am. From now on, I will be defining myself on my actions and not my beliefs, as wise man once said. I hope that soon, I will have become a good enough person to meet Anton face to face again... I still love him after all these years, and even though I expect that he justifiably won’t want anything to do with me anymore, I still think that it is a guilt that needs to be resolved. If I ever come back to this blog, it’ll be as a different Adam to the one you thought that you knew. It’ll be as the Adam I’m trying to become... the true Adam that I know exists deep within me... Not allygodot, but as proudgodot. My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee or Godot. I’m a 27 years old former music student living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am bisexual. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
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andraaste ¡ 3 years
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I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 3
The third chapter for you guys, hope you’ll enjoy it ! Have a good time 💕
(Link for Chapter 4 here)
Chapter 3 : You have five minutes to get dressed
I don't know how long I slept that night. Probably too much, like every time I dozed off for the past few weeks. On the other hand, I never felt fully rested, which made me easily irritable.
After our conversation and Lance left, I had fallen asleep with a troubled mind, and it was in the same state that I had woken up. And now that the night had passed, this story seemed even more insane to me.
I had to talk to Huang Hua.
Leaving my room, I headed for the girls' shared bathroom, hoping to get my thoughts right with an invigorating shower. I was relieved to find the room empty as I rushed into it, clearly not feeling able to hold a conversation immediately. Entering one of the cabins, I took off those clothes that had been put on me in the infirmary and once completely naked, I attacked the bandage that covered my stomach. Slowly unrolling the sticky tissue, I ended up discovering my perfectly healed skin where I had started to bleed profusely a few hours earlier. Surprised, I looked up in the direction of the mirror and noticed with amazement that no trace of this incident left my body.
I let my fingers slide along my side cautiously. How was this possible? However, I had not dreamed, the bandage for proof!
Confused, I turned on the water and turned the knob all the way. Engulfing myself under the jet, I only vaguely felt that it had not yet started to heat up. Despite the freezing temperature, I let the liquid run abundantly over my hair without a shiver.
Since I woke up, many unexplained phenomena were happening in me. In addition to my constant almost sickly state, I gradually noticed that several things had changed, as if they had evolved. Thus, I no longer felt hot or cold, and with each shower, I tried to push the temperature limits in order to try to feel something. But today, like every other day, no sensation was born on my body. Apart from the feeling, logic wanted my skin to react, like blushing under hot water for example, but as always, it remained perfectly milky.
Sighing, I continued to soap myself, my mind lost in the dark. The course of my thoughts brought me in spite of myself to a certain person. Lance had said he was responsible for keeping me safe now, but what was it really about? Was he going to follow me everywhere? No, I hadn't seen him when I left my room and he certainly had a lot more to do, which suited me perfectly.
My shower finished, I turned off the steaming water, realizing that my cabin looked like a real sauna. Drying myself quickly, I noticed with dismay that I had not brought a change of clothes with me. I was really going through shitty situations these last few days.
Frustrated, I wrapped the towel around my body and grabbed my dirty clothes. There was no way I would put this on again, even if it was just to cross the hallway, traces of blood even stained the t-shirt. Leaving the common room, I hurriedly moved down the hall before hitting head-on a person coming out of one of the bedrooms. Surprised, I was rushing into confused apologies when I finally recognized Nevra.
The young vampire put on an amused pout at the sight of my outfit, say, nonexistent.
- Hello Andraste. It is not common to see girls in small towels in the hallway.
My eyes rolled at his almost salacious remark. Obviously, he couldn't pretend nothing was wrong, it was too much to ask.
- Hello Nevra, indeed, I like breaking the codes lately.
The latter let out a laugh that brought out his sharp canines. I was about to continue my tirade when a sublime young woman came out of her room in her turn. Putting a hand on the forearm of the brunette, she placed a kiss full of innuendo on the corner of his lips.
- See you soon, I hope.
Then she slipped away, giving me a reproving look. My heart was torn at the sight of this scene.
Should I clarify that for me, Nevra and I loved each other a short time ago ?
The vampire looked away slightly, as if suddenly embarrassed. Probably sensing my pain, he whispered, almost only to himself:
- I’m sorry.
I decided to go in my turn, without another word before my voice faltered. Except now that I made out my door, I still discovered something that disturbed my mood. Lance was waiting for me, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the vampire's back. When I got to his height, he looked at my simple towel in turn but made no comment on it, much to my relief.
- Can't we get out of the bathroom quietly without crossing the guard here ?
The young man smiled slightly at my disillusioned remark.
- Maybe if you didn't go out half-naked, you'd meet fewer people.
Well, maybe I spoke a little too fast.
- You have five minutes to get dressed, after I come in, whether you are ready or not.
- You don’t intend to make your presence more appreciable, from what I see.
- Absolutely not, he confirmed with a big smile.
I left him on the doorstep, but in one last look back I noticed Nevra hadn't moved and was looking at us insistently. Closing the door behind me, I huffed a deep breath before grabbing some clean clothes. I wasn't going to hang around, taking Lance's threat in the first degree. I knew full well he was serious, that idiot.
I was finishing putting on my top when a huge figure appeared in my field of vision, making me jump with fear.
- Damn Lance, you could have knocked before entering, at least !
He frankly laughed at my reaction and I caught myself looking at his smile. In the end, I had rarely seen him smile, even then, and like every time I saw him like this, my heart was in spite of me missing a beat.
- How did you manage to enter without making any noise, by the way ?
- You seem to forget far too often that I am a being full of talents.
I huffed ironically as I pulled my top down onto my stomach, but to my astonishment he stopped my gesture by quickly grabbing my hand with his, huge and cold. I looked up at him, not understanding what he was trying to do, when I caught his gaze on my scarred skin, and I understood.
- How did ...
I quickly lowered the fabric, despite the strength of his hand on mine.
- It was nothing serious, that's all.
- Don't say stupid things, I saw it when EweleĂŻn treated you. You had a gaping wound.
- You must have been dreaming. It bled a lot but it wasn't much in the end.
- Andraste ...
- I don't want to talk about it, okay ? There are already enough things that I'm trying to deal with in the last few days, like the fact that I've missed seven years of my life, for example! So let me breathe a little.
- Have you had other things like these before, besides the discomfort and bleeding ?
- Lance, are you listening to me ?!
He tightened his fingers tightly on my wrist.
- You have to tell me, you cannot hide such important elements !
- But how does that concern you, exactly ?
- You have to talk to EweleĂŻn or Huang Hua about it, you can't ...
I caught him in turn to force him to stop his tirade and finally look at me.
- Lance, it's okay. Give me time to digest all this and try to figure out for myself what is happening to me. I promise I'll tell them about it when I'm ready, but for now, I'd rather keep this to myself, okay ?
- I don't...
I placed my fingers over his mouth with authority.
- Please.
Surprisingly, he ended up letting me have the last word in this story. For the moment at least. I carefully removed my hand from his face and watched him for a moment. When I realized how close we were, I quickly backed up until I established a more reasonable distance between us, suddenly uncomfortable. Trying to hide my embarrassment, I tried to change the subject.
- What did you want to tell me, anyway ?
The young man also seemed to come back to reality because the question seemed to disturb him for a moment, before he regained his composure.
- I came to warn you that Huang Hua asked to speak to us as soon as possible.
- Talk to ÂŤ us Âť ?
I was speechless for a moment. Yes, we had to talk, but one to one.
In response, Lance simply shrugged before heading for the exit. Seeing that I wasn't moving, he turned slightly to me.
- So, are you coming ?
(Chapter 4)
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haikyuu-sins ¡ 3 years
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Hiiiii! Since you are in the need for Law request I have plenty lol He lives in my head rent free 😁
So since Law is a Lowkey fanboy for ninjas what if on Zou when everyone met Raizo they met a kunoichi med! Ninja and Law was instantly infatuated with her. He’s impressed with her medical knowledge and her special medical techniques, and wants her to join his crew. And while traveling to Wano they get a little close in such short time that he doesn’t feel he can just forget about her. If that’s too much or too descriptive I apologize and feel free to cut whatever if it is too much.
Gimmie all the requests!!! And too much??? Too descriptive??? Oh my gosh I LOVE when there’s a lot of description!! It makes it so much easier and a lot more fun to write when I know exactly what you want and frick, I absolutely LOVE this ask!! I have a feeling I’m going to have a lot of fun writing this one so I’m sorry if I went overboard with it 😅 (I’m also not a doctor so forgive the misinformation if there is any, I’m just making shit up lol) update: I went overboard.
*****Law x Med Kunoichi! Reader
“Raizo, seriously, you need to calm down.” you tell the ninja who’s in chains because of how upset he is. “I get it, but the mink are fine now. I healed them the best I could and there weren’t many serious injuries.”
He was still on a tirade or yelling and crying but you just ignored him and kept him company. You just sigh. There wasn’t much you could do to help him. “Now you just need to shut up.”
There was yelling coming down from the stairs in front of you along with the sounds of multiple people sprinting. Were... they yelling ‘Ninja?’ It didn’t take long for multiple people that you didn’t recognize to be right in front of you.
There was a gasp. “Raizo is a woman?!” a man with a straw hat shouted, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
“Um, no, that’s Raizo.” you pointed to him.
All of them seemed to physically deflate when they heard that. “Wait... are you a kunoichi?!” the long nose yelled.
They were all shouting out rapid fire requests and you couldn’t even get a word in to tell them that you were the medical ninja. But hearing everything they were saying, you couldn’t help but smile and laugh. The little reindeer was asking if you said ‘nin nin’, another was asking you to hide in the ceiling and get stabbed with a spear, while someone else was asking for the shadow clone technique.
“Nin nin?” You had to put your hand over your mouth to cover your giggles. “Stabbed with a spear? Goodness...Is that what you think of us?” Looking over at Kin’emon and Kanjuro you saw that they had strange looks on their faces. It was cute hearing everything that they thought ninjas did and they were eager to see it all. “You should be asking Raizo to do all that, I don’t don’t have the energy for it right now. I’m the med ninja and I’ve been helping with healing the villagers...and there’s a lot of them.”
Law’s ears immediately perked up at the mention that you were a medical ninja.
“Which reminds me, I should be doing some more rounds for the minks who were more seriously injured.” you sighed and stood up from your spot.
“Would you mind if I came?” the man with the tattoos asked as you walked past them.
“Sure! The extra company is always nice.” you smile at him and he follows you up the long set of stairs out of the tree. “So you were curious about the shadow clone technique?” You glance over at him and he doesn’t exactly know what to say. He doesn’t want to sound too eager if he says yes, but if he says no then he won’t be able to see it. You can tell that he’s trying not to be excited and it makes you chuckle. There was a quick hand sign and another one of you popped up in front of you.
“Hello!” your clone smiled and waved at him and you could see his eyes widen, and then a small smirk. She poofed away in a puff of smoke after the introduction. “Oh and also, we don’t say ‘nin nin.’ I’m not sure where you heard that one.”
His shoulders drooped slightly and you could see that he almost looked disappointed. “Oh…”
“What was your name? I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier with all of the commotion. I’m (Y/n).”
“Trafalgar Law.”
“Is this your first time on Zou?” you ask him, opening the door to the room where your patients were.
“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about it, but I wouldn’t have been able to get up here to see it.”
“That’s a shame. There’s tons of medicinal plants on this island that you can’t find anywhere else. I assume you’re a doctor since you wanted to come with me? You seemed pretty interested when I said I was a medical ninja.” you sat down next to one of them and began your work.
He was surprised by how perceptive you were and he nodded as he watched you diligently heal the minks. Your hands glowed a light blue color and they moved up and down to where they were injured. Law heard you sigh heavily and he wondered what was wrong since he couldn’t see anything. ‘It must be internal.’ he thought to himself.
“It’s internal bleeding that I can’t stop with just my healing. I’m going to have to do surgery. Can you grab me that?” you asked him, pointing to a small tin that was on the shelf.  Law picked it up and opened it wondering what you would be doing with a balm. “Don’t smell it!” you warned him. “It’ll knock you out.”
He slowly put the cap back on it and handed it to you.
“It’s from the leaves of a certain mix of flowers here. I’ll show you after I’m finished.” you smiled and took it from him as you spoke to your patient about what you were going to have to do to him. “Come here.” you motioned Law closer to you. “If you want to watch you’ll have to be a little closer than that.” Law did as he was told. When you had the mink smell the balm, he almost passed out immediately. “They have better noses than us so this works much more effectively than it would on a human. It still will though so you have to be careful.”
He took all of the information in that you were giving him. He had never seen the techniques that you used. What was even more baffling to him was that it wasn’t even because of a devil fruit. They were all things that were taught to the medics at a more advanced level. The way you only used a finger to cut open your patient was incredible. He didn’t know how you did it, even when you explained it to him because it was something that he knew he wouldn’t be able to do. You could generate heat in your fingers that were hot enough to cauterize a wound.
What would have taken a normal doctor over an hour to do, took you about 10 minutes. Then you went on to the others who needed your help. They didn’t need surgery but he watched you in awe. It looked so effortless on your part, other than the fact that you looked a bit out of breath now because of how hard you were working.
“Oh man, I need to sit down for a little. Then we can go out and I can show you what I collect when I’m here!” you smiled up at him as you went over to a chair and plopped down, resting your head on the wall and closing your eyes. “I don’t usually get this tired. But having to heal everyone who was injured- including Duke and and Catviper who were really hurt-it takes a lot of energy out of me. It’s worth it though.”
The two of you talked about everything and nothing while you rested. You told him more about ninjas to which you had all of his attention and about Wano and what exactly to expect when they all got there.
“Are you going to be coming with us back to Wano?” Law asked as casually as he could.
“I would assume I am? I mean I could always go back on my own though if there isn’t any room for me! I came here by myself anyway, before Raizo. So I do have a way back.”
“There’s plenty of room, don’t worry. It’s probably too dangerous to go back on your own anyway after the attack.”
“What, do you think I can’t take care of myself? Come on, I’m a kunoichi! I don’t have this sword for decoration. Or do you just want me to be safe?” you tease him with a smile.
In truth, he wanted you to teach him. You had so much knowledge that he didn’t. “I just-”
“I’m just teasing.” you smile softly and stand up. “Are you ready? We can go now. I’m rested enough if you want to get some herbs for your trip.”
He rolled his eyes at your first comment. “We can wait until you’re fully rested if you want.”
“That’s okay. There are some flowers that only bloom at night so we have to cut them off before they can close back up. It’s best to just go at sunset and get the others that you need first.” you grabbed a big bag and already started to walk out the door. Law quickly followed behind you and the two of you were on your way.
In the few hours that you and Law had met each other, you already felt like you had formed a kind of bond with him. You showed him all the different leaves, roots, and flowers that could be used for a multitude of things.
“I can teach you how to make a bunch of things when we’re on our way back to Wano if you want?” you asked hopefully, just wanting to be around him more.
“So you’re coming with us?” Law raised a brow and tried not to smirk at you.
“Well you insisted on it so I guess I have to!” you joked. “But yes, I’d actually really love to come with you. I-I mean with everyone!” You stammered, face turning a bright shade of pink while Law just smirked while he put some flower stems in the bag.
Not too long after, you and the others left on Law’s submarine. It was nerve-wracking at first and you’ll admit you were terrified. Being with the others you knew wasn’t that bad though. You were introduced to the StrawHat Pirates before you boarded and got to know Robin a little better. She was sweet and knowledgeable. But Law was the one you spent the most time with. Even if there wasn’t a reason, you made one up. You’d ask him random things, just went to see what he was doing, or showed him some of the extra things you’d made for his infirmary. You would just say that you made more than you needed but really you were just making it for him.
Law knew more than anyone on the sub that he wanted you to stay so he made sure that you got along with the rest of the crew. You wanted them to like you so you had Kin’emon help you make some traditional dishes from Wano. On one of these days, you went to find  Law so he’d be able to try some before the rest of the crew ate it. He was of course in his office working on some kinks that needed to be worked out before they got to Wano.
You knocked on the door and he told you to come in. “Hi Law~” you smile and go to his desk and put the bowl of red bean soup on it. “I had a feeling you’d be in here for dinner so I wanted to bring you some food before it ran out or got cold.”
He sighs and leans back in his chair while he runs his tattooed fingers through his hair, obviously stressed about what’s to come. “Thank you.”
“You know you really should relax. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. I understand that you’re under a lot of pressure right now, but stressing about it is just going to make it worse. You’re better off taking a break and eating some of the soup I made.” you grin and push it closer to him, encouraging him to try it. “Come on~ I wanna see how much you like it! I know you will!”
Law accepted your offer and took the bowl. You watched him with raised brows and an expectant look on your face as he took a sip of the soup . “Well~?”  
He wanted to melt in his chair at that moment. The feeling of the hot soup ran down his throat and calmed him unlike anything he’d felt before. He’d never had this before but somehow it reminded him of home. “I’m deciding whether I want you as my cook or my other doctor.”
You tilt your head to the side, your brows now scrunch together and your cheeks flush. “What...what do you mean your cook or other doctor?” you had a feeling you knew where this was going but you wanted to make sure.
“You know exactly what I mean. I mean, you should join my crew.”
You thought about it for a moment. “Would I be a pirate or a kunoichi? ...Because I do like being a kunoichi...and would I have to wear that outfit everyone does? I like my kimono that I have on.” Truthfully, Law did too and he wouldn’t mind if you continued wearing it either, he thought you looked nice in it.  
“You can be whichever. If you want to keep your kimono on to pay a sort of tribute to being a kunoichi, you can do that. I don’t mind. I get it, it’s what you know and what you grew up with.” It was your ninja way.
As he spoke, your smile only grew wider and you couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was exactly what you wanted and you were so glad that he brought it up to you since you thought it might be inappropriate to ask him yourself to join his crew. You just wanted to be around him and you were hoping that he would feel the same.
It was strange. Law had never felt this much of a connection with someone in such a short amount of time. But there was first for everything and he didn’t mind this first.
“Of course I will!” you just wanted to wrap your arms around his neck, hug him tight, and not let go. “I was kind of afraid you weren’t going to ask...” you say to him sheepishly chuckling.
“Oh were you?” He takes another sip of his soup while raising his brows.
“Yeah...I really like spending time...with you. It’s been nice getting to know the crew too. I’ve had a lot of fun with them so far. Now I don’t have to worry about being sad when you guys have to leave Wano and missing you-missing everyone!” you say the last part quickly.
“If you were going to miss me then you should have just said something.” he smirks at you.
Rolling your eyes, you’re tempted to push his shoulder, but he has hot soup and you’re not going to spill it on him. “Oh shut up and eat your soup before it gets cold. Captain.”
Now that’s something Law can get used to hearing you say.  
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jokertrap-ran ¡ 3 years
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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Event! 沐野拾趣: Charlie’s BDAY 2021 Event! Pickings in the Wilderness Translation (Prelude)
“What a way to make a grand entry; it’s beyond my wildest imagination…”
*Light and Night Master-list | Charlie’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Join my Light & Night Discord (^▽^)~ ♪ *Event story tag will be #For Light and Memories
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Morning, 6 AM.
The group of people who were participating in the Suburban Farmhouse Tour had already gathered, lining up in the narrow bus stop for the Urban-Rural Bus.
I manoeuvred around the crowd, standing at the very back as I surveyed the area in search of Charlie.
MC: Strange. What’s up with him today? He’s never been late…
There's only one minute left before we're setting out…
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MC: Don't tell me he's standing me up because he got cold feet from hearing, "A joyous Rural Tour of Spiritual Healing", the name of this event?
Just as I took out my phone to contact him, the bright and cheery voice of a kid from the group before me suddenly cuts through the air.
Passerby: Look, look! The bus is here!
MC: That quickly!?
I anxiously make my way out of the crowd, intending to go up to the guide on the bus and explain the situation to them.
However, the sight that greeted me made me falter…
❖☆———————————★❖
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Charlie: Dear participants of Quangqi City's Suburban Rural Tour;
Charlie: Please line up and board the bus in an orderly manner.
Charlie: I repeat, dear participants of Quangqi City's Suburban Rural Tour; please line up and board the bus in an orderly manner.
The bus comes to a stop in front of the bus stop. And sitting in the driver's seat was the one man I'd been trying so desperately to find; Charlie.
He rested a hand against the window, leaning a little lazily into his chair. He looked as perfect as naturally formed, primary-coloured, gemstones born from never-ending metamorphism… Other than that band-aid of little yellow ducks on his left finger that stuck out like a sore thumb, of course.
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MC: What a way to make a grand entry; it’s beyond my wildest imagination…
The driver’s side window gradually lowered, and soon, I was faced with Charlie’s gleeful face.
Charlie: Sorry to have kept you waiting, my dear fiancĂŠe.
Charlie: Come, get on.
Charlie: I’ve saved the passenger seat especially for you.
Auntie: You have a fiancĂŠe, boy!?
One of the older women with the group let out a shocked cry of exclamation, catching the attention of all the people in their sixties who were within the tour group.
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MC: I, er… I'm not…
Before I could formulate a reply, a couple of enthusiastic and kindly older folk started gathering before the doors of the bus, tripping over each other to get a word in with me.
Uncle: Young lass, you don’t see youngsters as ardent as that man of yours nowadays!
Auntie: The driver called earlier, saying that he’d gotten an upset stomach, and was unable to drive over. He also said that the bus was parked about 2km away.
Auntie: We were all panicking since we didn’t know what to do, but your man stepped in to help immediately without a word.
Following that, murmurs of approval sounded one after another. Namely, “Yeah!” and “That man’s a keeper!”.
MC: Uncle, auntie, you have the wrong idea. We aren’t in that sort of relationship.
Hearing that, she only became more earnest.
Auntie: You youngsters always think that you’re still young, so you keep delaying things as big as marriage to no end.
Auntie: He’s such a talented and reliable young man. You’ll never be able to find someone else like him in the future, no matter how hard you try.
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Charlie: Yes, Auntie. What you say is indeed true.
Charlie’s voice suddenly cut through the whispers of the crowd.
The crowd willingly gave way to his advancements, moving to form a path before him. His tall figure stood at the other end of the dimly lit bus, making him look especially conspicuous.
He walked up to all of the older folk, leisurely and unhurried, a picture-perfect smile on his face.
Charlie: Auntie, in all honesty, even I am unable to wrap my head around it.
Charlie: Why is someone as brilliant as me getting rejected by her again and again to no end?
Charlie: That being said, however, marriage is something that can only be achieved by two. I am only showing her my one-sided affections right now. Hence, she still retains the right to choose whether or not to proceed with it.
Charlie casually glances over to me, secretly shooting me a sly look over the crowd.
Charlie: This is something that we’ve both reached a mutual consensus on, at least.
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MC: Actually...
Charlie: Therefore, neither a title nor an official declaration of our relationship will be able to affect our mutual feelings.
Charlie: I am very confident that it won’t.
They all took to his remarks like fish in water, continuously showering him in praises.
Uncle: You are really different from others through and through; you do think of everything and anything.
Saying so, all the older folks broke out into more murmurings of “yeah!” and “he’s so excellent and confident!” as they dispersed.
Charlie and I were the only ones left near the door.
The smile on his face faded as the crowd dispersed.
Charlie: Okay, let’s go.
Having regained my bearings, I was just about to step up into the bus… when something undeniably important flashed through my mind.
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MC: WAIT!
His silhouette, in all its showy glory, jolted at my sudden exclamation.
Charlie: What!?
MC: Charlie, this is a bus!
Charlie: So?
MC: Do you even have an A1 driver’s license!?
He shook his head with a faint smile. I could almost hear his inaudible sigh of exasperation.
Charlie: And here I thought that something big happened. So, it was just about a driver’s license?
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Charlie: Driving licence ABCDEF. I have them all; the complete set. I’m only missing the las—
Sensing that he was about to go off on another one of his tirades, I quickly cut him off.
MC: Stop. Okay, I get it. But, why sit for so many licenses?
MC: Why in the world did you sit for that many licenses?
Charlie: I’ve told you a long time ago. I dabble here and there when it comes to things that are generally interesting but useless.
Charlie: Come on. Hurry and get on board.
Charlie stood on the steps leading up to the bus. He leaned forward and extended a hand out towards me.
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MC: I’ve only ever heard of Prince Charming; never have I heard of a Bus Prince.
I placed my hand into his, his long fingers gently wrapping around my wrist.
Charlie: No matter. You’re seeing him now anyway.
Charlie: Come on then, Bus Princesse mine.
As I stepped onto the steps leading up to the bus, I told myself deep down in my heart: Summer was finally beginning.
❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Memories⊹ —————★❖
Previous Part: (Prologue) | Next Part: (Chapter 1)
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vegalocity ¡ 3 years
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Reunited (Red Groom AU)
This is the part where you guys realize i'm not going in chronological order and am probably just gonna do the scenes i like
but like who cares right that just means we're skipping to the good stuff
Also i combined the battle of wits and the Reuniting scene bc this is my AU and i do what i want
--
In a cruel turn of fate, when the Spider Queen stood alone between him and his most hated foe, the Red Prince wished he still had either the large blue fellow or the dragon with them still. At least the two of them were slightly more amenable to him. And maybe while they couldn't be persuaded to take these wretched restraining cuffs from his wrists they at least were better conversational partners than the half mad Spider Queen.
Tethered to the spider woman as he was at the time, when she began to mutter aloud to herself about trying to lose the Monkey King over a secret way, he had no choice but to follow as she dragged him off of the forest path and into a clearing. He'd assumed she'd gone mad, but before he could voice such opinions she'd spun a quick web and used it to blind and gag him. She'd activated the damned cuffs and finding himself unable to move on his own, he could only comply.
He could rely on naught but his hearing as the Spider Queen dragged him across the open plain and forced him to sit upon what felt to be a long felled tree trunk. He heard her arrange things with the shift and clang of cloth and metal, and soon enough he heard approaching footsteps.
One of her pointed legs pressed up underneath him, the tip just grazing where his chin met his neck.
“So, Monkey King, it's down to you and I once again.” She purred and he let out a shout of rage at finally finally being so close to the monkey who'd taken away his everything but unable to move or even look upon the face of that wretched foe.
“-By all means if you want the prince dead, come closer.” The point of the Spider Queen's leg pressed a little harder against him.
“Give me a moment, let me explain-” The Monkey King started, tense and rough and possessing none of the cocky lit his father had described it as in the stories he'd heard-
“There's nothing to explain!” The Spider Queen crowed. “You're trying to kidnap what I've rightfully stolen!”
“Per...haps an arrangement can be reached?” Why did the Monkey King even want him enough to not have grown bored and moved on? Some sort of assumed loyalty to his father? As if he'd go anywhere with the monster that had taken his-
No. Stop. Stop thinking about it, now's not the time.
The Spider Queen thought so too, he felt a small prick on his neck as she broke the skin there just a bit he let out a muffled yelp in surprise as she grabbed his arm for better leverage. “There will be none. And if you do not wish to bring a corpse back to his family you will remain where you are.”
The Monkey King's voice wavered, and for a moment it sounded afraid... and almost familiar-... No. don't you dare compare him to the monkey who killed him.
“Well... if no arrangement can be made, this is quite the impasse we've reached.”
“I would say so. If you went about swinging that staff I'd likely be squashed flat, yet if you dared do so your prize's blood will stain the soil before you finished the swing. Your brawn is unparalleled 'Great Sage' But so is my intelligence.”
“You're that smart, hm?”
“Whose the one holding the prize, Monkey King?” She gripped his arm tighter.
“Well, In that case how about a battle of wits?” There was that cocky lit. No doubt the Monkey had a trick up his sleeve to take care of the Spider Queen-
“For the prince?”
-and then if he could just play nice for long enough to get him to remove these damned restraining cuffs he could-
“To the Death?”
-he could charge at the simian with every ounce of pain and rage he'd built up in the past two years and turn him to ash and whatever smoldering stone he was made from that remained stone yet.
“I accept.”
He just had to be patient a little longer.
“Wonderful! Pour the wine, please?”
This would possibly be his greatest test of resolve yet. He heard the Monkey's footsteps approaching and as the creature drew near he smelled of peaches and the wind, and-...
Had- Had he stolen some of his beloved's clothes?!
His senses were stronger than an average humans and without his sight his other senses were sharpening and he could swear he smelled the distinct scent of-...of-....don't say his name don't even think it you don't have the time to be hysterical right now
-He didn't think he was CAPABLE of hating the Monkey King even more than he already did and yet here he was. His rage mounting and seething beneath his skin.
He heard the clack and pour as the wine sloshed into what were apparently two cups between his captor and his enemy.
“Smell this, but don't touch it.”
“This smells of nothing.”
“It's called Iocane powder. It has no smell, taste or distinctive texture but it can kill a demon in no time flat.”
“Hm.”
“Now it can't kill ME per se, but even I'm not fully immune to it. It'll put me into a sleep like death for a solid week, which is about as close to dead as I can get anyway.”
“Ahhh I see where you're going with this.”
There was another pause, and the sound of the two cups clinking as they were moved about.
“There. Which cup as the poison within? You select which you'll take, we both drink. And from there we see who has the custody of the prince, and who is dead.”
The Spider Queen laughed and released her hold on his arm to clap in her amusement.
“Truly? We both drink the wine and see who keels over? How delightful! You were never this collected with your gambits before, Great Sage! Truly I can only divine which cup is poisoned from what I know of you, Monkey King.” the Monkey King sucked in a breath and She laughed.
“I suppose the real question is how does the Monkey King go about when he plans on tricking people? Does he poison his own goblet or his enemies?”
Then the Spider Queen began on some long, painfully winded, tirade about what she'd divined about the Monkey King based on his reputation and what she'd gleaned from his behavior, and he honestly could not care about her backwards thought process one whit. He simply wished for this to be over and either make plans to return to this palace when the Great Sage was in his sleep like death and char him to a crisp or wait for the Spider Queen to fall dead and convince the Monkey King to free him so he may do the job himself.
“You're trying to confuse me into giving something away aren't you?”
“You'd LOVE that wouldn't you Monkey King? I know which goblet has the poison in it you great fool.”
“Then choose! Geez, this is boring me!”
“You'll see whose embarrassed soon enou- What in the world could that be?”
“What? Where?” Did.... Did the Monkey King really just fall for the 'look behind you' gambit? “I see nothing.”
...Really?
“I could have sworn I saw something- oh nevermind I suppose. Now, a toast. I select my own cup.”
“Very well.” the two cups clacked together dully.
“You chose wrong.” The Monkey King chortled, only to be cut off by the Spider Queen's cackle.
“You only BELIEVE I chose wrong! How humorous! The great and mighty Monkey King so easily duped!” the Spider Queen cackled “I switched our glasses as you were turned around Monkey King! You've fallen for one of the greatest blunders of them all! The Greatest of course being to never invade the far north nearing winter, but slightly less well known, is to never bet against a Spider when death is on the line!”
The Spider Queen laughed for a time longer before her laughter started to slowly dissolve into a coughing fit. Her hand scrabbled along his arm as she searched for purchase- and then fell away.
The Monkey King approached him and he most certainly HAD stolen the clothes of his beloved with the scent that clung there still—and oh how he'd wished he'd still have a remnant of him to remember with in his timeless eon of grief—and the sheer unbridled unfairness that his killer was allowed something that he so desperately had craved made him furious.
The Monkey King removed the webbing around his eyes first and he blinked in the sudden sunlight. The dark mask and head wrapping the Monkey King wore obscured the majority of his face and he found himself so full of rage at the idea of the wretched stone monkey being so close to him that once the webbing was torn from his mouth his first instinct had been to spit in his face.
He hadn't, but it had been a close call.
“....All that caterwauling and you knew you'd poisoned your own cup the whole time.”
“They were both poisoned, highness.” The Monkey King stated stiffly. “Iocane powder only works on demons and I'm immune to everything but what can kill an immortal... so you may not want to touch either of those cups yourself.”
The Monkey King reached for his bindings and he held his breath as he gave the shackles an experimental tug. The golden bands shuddered and tightened against his wrists. “What nature of binding are these?”
...just play nice, just until they're broken...“I'm not familiar with them myself, but they blast my own fire back onto me should I try to summon it, and tighten upon attempted removal.” Come on... if anyone could break them before they lopped his hands off it would be the Monkey King... and he'd thank him by giving him just what he deserves....
“Sounds like a stolen artifact from the heavenly court or something, you're probably stuck in those things until we return to Flower Fruit Mountain.”
“...Excuse me?”
“Well I know very little about the surrounding area, how short a time it's been since I've returned to the world, and if I remember correctly this mercenary group said themselves they were hired by your fiance, So we should probably assume his palace is hostile territory, and to send you home would surely double our journey time before we can be assured of safety. It's far safer to head back to my own mountain and send word to your home from there.”
No...No no no no That was not allowed. He got to his feet—in such a rush the Monkey King stumbled back in surprise—and couldn't hold on to his temper any longer.
“I will no nowhere with you! You- You absolute-! I- I can't even find the words to DESCRIBE how deeply my hatred runs for you!” The Monkey King flinched back in surprise, before huffing.
“Well you don't have much of a choice, do you? I can't remove those restraints short of chopping your hands off and the sun is due to set soon; How long do you think you'll last in the wild without your fire power? Far as I see it, You either return with me to my mountain, or leave as powerless as a human without even a weapon by your side and hope to make it back home on your own before you're either eaten or slaughtered.”
Red Son growled under his breath, but when the Monkey King gestured for him to follow, he did.
They made it to the outer side of a mountain, a steep decline into the valley off on their side and in the center of the valley lie a dark and tangled forest.
“We can rest here for a time-”
“I refuse to put my guard down around you, ape.” The Monkey King bristled.
“Would you mind terribly to indulge me as to why you've decided to detest your own savior, highness?”
The horrid monkey should know what he's done- “You killed the love of my life”
And then the bastard had the gall to remain unshaken “Maybe I did. I've killed a lot of people since getting free.” The Monkey strode forward and began to circle him, like a predator toying with its prey.
Red Son decided he wouldn't need his fire to attack this creature. Sure he may die within moments, but his rage would at least let him one punch before his skull was split open-
“Tell me, who was this 'love' of yours? Another prince like yourself?” The Monkey King leaned in. “Rich? Cutthroat? Bossy?”
Of all the disrespectful- “He worked in an Inn when I knew him! He was poor!” He rounded on the disgraceful simian yet the killer before him wasn't his focus. “I didn't care about his wealth!”
He couldn't think on him or he'd fall to pieces and-
He couldn't-
“I never cared about that.”
The memory of gentle laughter echoing in his ear, the bright excitement and bounce in his step, those elegant yet calloused hands and he had to stop this right here because the Monkey King wasn't ALLOWED to see him so vulnerable-
“He was perfect in every way...”
Yet now that the memory was in his head again it wasn't going away. And he found his heart aching as deeply as it was during his period of mourning.
The shimmer of adoration when he'd simply glanced at him briefly and known his heart; the embarrassed way his gaze had darted away when he'd later confronted him on his discovered feelings, the warm, bright joy when he'd told him his feelings were returned-
“...With eyes like the space between the stars...” His voice had grown weaker, barely a murmur as the memories reclaimed their long repressed spot in his mind.
Xiaotian... his face, his voice, His passion and energy and-
And the tired look on the Inkeep's husband's face when he'd informed him of their son's death-
-The eager excited look on his face as he'd eagerly listen to Red Son talk about his projects, always listening even if he didn't understand.
The feeling of the floor falling out from under him and and a million horrible noises and feelings mounting up in his throat and chest but restraining it just long enough to find somewhere to be alone
-The energy in his voice as he talked about his art, looking for all the world like his greatest pleasure in the world was taking a brush into his hand and immortalizing the world around him into inks and papers.
Kneeling in the grove of trees for hours screaming his rage and sobbing his despair until a stranger had finally found him.
-The stories he loved to hear and tell in turn, entire body going into his storytelling as he gestured and enacted and faked fights
Night after sleepless night tirelessly working trying to—needing to—just stop thinking else he'd be able to do nothing but wish the world itself had died when Xiaotian had so at least the sun would stop rising and the birds would stop singing and the servants would stop bringing him meals he didn't have the appetite for and he could just work and work until his body finally collapsed in on itself and the light of his forge would go out blanketing the world in eternal darkness like it deserved to be after the greatest light of them all was extinguished.
-one picture, just one, given to him the one time he'd returned to the town by the Inkeep, stating in a gruff, tired voice that he may as well keep it. A figure done up in coals, his own visage of that one beautiful night they'd had together, the paper folded and held in a secret pocket right over his heart where it remained forevermore.
That final goodbye, Xiaotian pressing a feather light kiss to his knuckles as though still trying to be respectful to a prince. And he couldn't suppress the laughter at such a overly fancy action so once his chuckles had subsided he'd pulled him into a proper kiss. And they'd both known it would be some time before they'd see eachother, so they made it a proper goodbye-
But he hadn't thought it would be the last time he'd ever see him alive.
If he'd known... all the things he would have said, all the pleas to keep him there with him in the little town just beyond the palace. To- To move him into the palace, and yes his parent's wouldn't approve of a peasant for a husband, but he'd have no other and eventually they'd come around to it. Especially after they actually MET him and knew the kind of man he was-
But he didn't. And Xiaotian was dead-
He was dead at the hands of someone he'd admired and loved the stories of.
And his rage returned. The fire burned beneath his skin and begged to be let loose but he had to keep a lid on it to keep the cuffs from bouncing his power back onto himself and burning away like an effigy of love and loss.
“He was staying in the village you burned to the ground when you left your traveling group.” his voice was low, as calm as he could possibly make it, if he went any louder he would begin screaming, he knew it. “The one you ensured none would live to tell about beyond your former friends-”
“'Friends' is such a heavy word. My 'traveling compatriots' perhaps would work better.” The Monkey King interrupted him -He interrupted him! “And I mean I couldn't afford to show any mercy while I was leaving them behind! If people thought the Monkey King had gone soft after his five hundred year imprisonment nobody would respect him! Then it's nothing but work work work to rebuild that reputation!”
“Are you mocking me?! You destroy my everything and you have the gall to mock my pain?!”
“Oh, Life is pain highness.” He couldn't see the Monkey King's eyes but he was sure they were mockingly rolling in his self-assured life knowledge. “Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is just selling you something.”
Then he looked off to the side, and he was so tempted to just charge the Monkey, see how far he could go before he was struck back. See how far his rage could carry him alone. He twisted the restraining cuffs on his wrists, they tightened, he grit his teeth at the squeeze.
“You know, I think I remember this inkeep boy of yours. I separated from my former group about... what, two years ago was it?”
...You know he'd thought that if the Monkey King did remember Xiaotian it would give him some sense of catharsis. That his love had at least made an impression on the great fool, and was not just some faceless passerby, but...
It didn't.
“Does it bother you to know?”
“I'll not give you the satisfaction of hearing any more of my thoughts on the matter.”
“Well, he died well if that's any consolation.” The Monkey King was peering at him through the mask. “No bribe attempts with those meager savings, no blubbering. He pleaded his case to me only the once.” he looked away, seemingly lost in the memory, head tilted upward as though to help him remember. “He said 'Please... I need to live'...Not a lot of people say 'please' and mean it highness, so it gave me pause.”
“I asked him what was worth sparing him over, and I remember this, he said 'True Love'” His chest felt tight...
He reached up a hand and pressed it against his collarbone to try and alleviate the pressure, he could practically see it, the village up in flames, the Monkey King in this same hideous black outfit, his staff already stained with blood, and his precious, darling, beloved Noodle Boy kneeling in the dirt, blood seeping down his face from a cut somewhere on his head, and pleading just for a moment. And-
True love...
“He then went on to describe a gentlemen of great intelligence and deep passion; I can only assume he meant you...Have to say, I'm surprised you're not grateful to me destroying him when I did.”
His mind stuttered to a stop, his entire train of thought completely derailed as the Monkey King spoke.
“...What?”
“You know, before he could see the kind of person you really are.”
His control snapped in half, his fire sprung forth, the golden bands shuddered and the flames erupted out only for a moment before being bounced back onto him. The heat of his own fury scalding him until the pain made him stop. The Monkey King took a half step forward but Red Son made SURE he kept his distance with his glare alone.
“And what, pray tell, kind of person am I?!”
It seemed like he'd finally pissed off the Monkey King. Good. His shoulders tensed and those long canines bared, as though ready to tear into him. “He was really stuck on the idea that you were the faithful sort, highness. That no matter what, yours wasn't the kind of heart that could be swayed! He was so sure that you would wait for him-”
Wait- why was that what had angered him?
“-So tell me, when you learned of your 'love's death did you start accepting suitors the next day or did you wait a full week out of respect for the dead?!”
His hand went flying before he even thought about it, he should have punched him; if that was his only shot in he should have punched him, but his reflexes had decided the action for him and instead his palm was out and he'd slapped him instead.
“How dare you?! You mocked me once see if you live to do it again!”
But he wasn't thinking about that, he wasn't thinking about anything beyond the pain that had gone from a dull ache to white hot in his chest, the absolute blinding rage and the sting of tears welling in his eyes from the sheer tidal wave of anger and despair.
“I DIED THAT DAY”
The tears turned to steam the second they left his eyes, smoldering trails out of either, just barely able to vent that little bit of flame into the world without hurting him but he didn't care if the proof of his despair was made obvious by it or not.
He didn't care about any of it. He didn't care he couldn't summon a single plume of fire or how completely eclipsed his ability was by the Monkey King's without it, and possibly even with his it. He only cared about making him pay. He pounced on the monkey when he seemed stunned by his vehemence.
The scuffle was brief but he DID get another hit in before he was pinned. This time it was a real punch, and it was just as satisfying as he'd hoped it would be.
But too soon was he pinned, The monkey pressing his front to the ground, a knee between his shoulder blades and his hands held together against the small of his back.
He let out a shout of rage, not even bothering to try and give any more words, no more words were necessary.
“Calm down! You need to listen-!”
The steam was clouding his eyes so greatly he was nearly blind with it, his fire was trying to come out unbidden to throw off his opponent, the scalding agony rippling through his body proof of such. But he was numb to it beyond it fueling his anger even further; maybe if he just burnt hot enough he could melt the cuffs right off of him. Everything was hurting, his clothes were going to be a holey mess, but he could smell cooking meat and he could only hope it was the monkey above him. He HAD to burn the Monkey King first. Even if he was immolated himself in the process!
“The only thing I'd like to listen to is your demise! You-! You wretched ape! You heartless horsekeeper! You took my everything you don't deserve the breath you stole from his lungs!” His own lungs ached, was it through holding back sobs? Was he experiencing smoke inhalation for the first time? He couldn't tell.
The pressure was off of his back and his hands were released, he made a blind swipe to try and right himself but his arms wouldn't obey him, and at that realization the pain finally kicked in.
The world went fuzzy at the edges, then dark at the edges. Until he could only see a small spot in front of him and the rest of his sight was naught but a haze of black.
Then everything was black-
It was probably his own flesh he could smell burning-
There was rapid muttering above him-
How embarrassing if this was what did him in, revenge in his grasp and he was too eager to kill the Monkey King right there he let cursed jewelry trick him into offing himself-
Someone was sobbing, was it him? He didn't think he had enough breath in his lungs for that-
The pain was going away, did that mean he was dying-
He tried to open his eyes, but he was still face down in the dirt and could only manage one, the former grassland around him was still smoldering from his fire as it eased back into focus, his breathing was ragged, and at some point his skin had stopped burning so hot, he felt cold.
The pain had eased but hadn't vanished, but the shock was still heavy in his system as he couldn't respond when he felt a pair of arms lift him up and pull him against a hard yet warm surface.
Dark fabric met his eye, and...he knew who this person was, didn't he? At some point in the writhing pain he'd forgotten just what he was doing here, mind going blank for everything but the burning sensation. But whoever they were they felt familiar. Their arms wrapped around his torso like they belonged there, as though the two of them were made to be like this.
The next thing that processed was the sound. His ear was pressed to the person's torso and he could hear the rabbit flutter of a panicked heartbeat. But nonetheless there was something... familiar about it. And alongside the heartbeat there was the vibration of words in the stranger's chest, but these he couldn't quite make out as their face was pressed against the top of his head, buried in his hair and making the words indecipherable.
It was then that his mind finally re-engaged and he realized that it was the Monkey King holding him so tenderly. His anger felt muted by the cold cold blanket of shock, but he still struggled in his grasp to pull away, if only to try and make sense of what was going on. If the Monkey King had such judgmental and inaccurate views of a man he'd never met before now, why was he doing this?
The Monkey King held him tight and he felt the shake of his shoulders as he was pressed even closer. Why was he shaking? He shifted again and this time found his face pressed against the dark fur of the Monkey's neck.
But it... felt off... it didn't feel real. It felt more like fabric with an illusion placed over it than it did actual fur...
The smell of burning flesh finally faded from his nose and was replaced with-
…What?
No that- that wasn't possible, he'd stolen Xiaotian's clothes sure but his face was pressed to the Monkey King's neck, that can't be his scent that can't be-
His arms were still aching as he reached up and found the knot tying the dark mask and headscarf around him. Both fabrics fluttered away and with them came a puff of a cloud of smoke, a shapeshifting form dissolving around him.
And he was pressed against a very human body.
This- this could still be a trap, this could be some sort of illusion to pacify him, so he wouldn't ask any more questions, so he'd just lose himself entirely-
The human—the alive human—clutching to him tightened his grip and he could finally make out the words he was muttering
“I'm so sorry never do that again you scared me to death I'm sorry I'm sorry-”
The cocky lit in his voice was gone and it sounded so achingly familiar without it, and the feeling and the scent and it- it couldn't be....
It had to be
It was a struggle, his arms still felt heavy from the echoes of pain and the numbness of realization, but he pulled away just enough to properly look at him and-
Oh...
Like the space between the stars...
“Xiaotian...”
He was crying, just beginning to pull himself together now. Pulling an arm off of him to scrub at that beautiful face. Those enchanting eyes he'd thought he'd never see again darted away from him and he wanted to protest at not being allowed to simply look at him after... after EVERYTHING... but he couldn't find breath in his lungs.
“I think your fiance's been tracking us- I hear horses. Can you walk?”
He tried to respond, he really did, but he found himself spellbound by the sound of his voice, just as he remembered it without the false persona twisting it until the point it had become unrecognizable.
“Red Son?” he shuddered at the sound of his own name being spoken by that voice again. So many emotions and memories, the hole in his chest finally being filled, and knowing without a shadow of a doubt this time he wouldn't let anything part them again still leaving him stunned. The fire was gone from his skin and finally, finally he felt one emotion beat the others and bubble up to the surface.
Red Son started to laugh. Tears bubbling up and sliding down his cheeks as true, overwhelming joy engulfed him. His arms ached and felt stiff from the burns he'd laid onto them but he pulled them around Xiaotian's shoulders all the same and squeezed with every ounce of strength that remained in his body.
“You're alive...” he wasn't sure if his laughter had turned to sobbing or if the two had simply mixed together but his breath was hitching and the tears wouldn't stop. “If you wanted I could fly”
Those arms pulled around him again and now he could truly appreciate just how easily the both of them fit together.
“I- I still don't understand, why did you accept the proposal if you still loved me?” Xiaotian's voice was a whisper against his shoulder, and he didn't want to think any more of his family's decisions and his hopeless acceptance, yet-
“My parents decided it, and what else could I have done?” he paused for breath “You were dead.”
Xiaotian responded with such conviction he had no choice but to instantly believe him:
“Death can't stop true love; it can only delay it for awhile.”
His lips were rougher than he remembered, but Red Son had no complaints upon kissing them again.
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anotherimaginethatblog ¡ 3 years
Text
cruise
Pairing: Kenny x OC
Summary: this is cheesy af with all the clichés, but I could not help myself. apologies in advance for the ending. its not my fave but there maybe a part 2.🤷‍♀️ - you and Kenny have had a flirty friendship for years, neither admitting to feelings until a room mix up on the Jericho cruise forces someone’s hand
You would never publicly express it, but you had been excited for this for months. The cruise was the highlight of many pro wrestlers’ year, it was hard work and tiring but also kind of like a vacation. You had sold it yourself as a work trip, when Kenny had asked if you would be attending you gave your usual nonchalant shrug and said, “don’t know I’ll see”, you really wanted to go but the thought of being trapped on a boat with Kenny was hell to you, I mean it is bad enough having a thing for your friend but a friend that you can’t escape? Yeah.
He looked disappointed you noticed, to you he was a good friend you had met on your first tour of japan, hed showed you around and the conversation and good times had flowed. You kept in touch, talking every day, and to Kenny it was a way to feel close to you, the truth was he really liked you and he figured that friendship was better than nothing so over the years you settled into your usual routine of dinner, exploring and video games whenever you happened to be in the same place together. Neither being brave enough to make a move more than the odd kiss goodnight that you would awkwardly forget the next day.
A few days after your non-committal response to Kenny you had replied to the email booking you for an appearance on the cruise, you figured it would be fun and since the boat was so big the chances of actually having to run into him where slim. You were amazing friends, but you were afraid of your feelings getting in the way and ruining what you had spent so long building. The thought of losing him was too much to bear, that and the million questions you would have from your mum if you told her you and Kenney had fallen out. She was convinced he was the perfect man for you, something you denied to her face every time while thinking how right she was in your head.
Arriving at the docks in Miami you had already bumped into a few familiar faces who seemed surprised you actually come along, none more so than Kenny of all people who you just happened to run into while waiting to check in “so much for ill see (Y/N)” he said teasing you.
“hey you” you shot back with a smile “I figured why not, I mean who doesn’t love the Bahamas and being surrounded by fans at every turn” you said turning to look at the mass of fans outside dying for a glimpse of their favourite wrestler.
“and there was me thinking you just wanted to hang out” he laughed. “I’m glad you’re here though, really I am” he replied, you could hear the sincerity in his voice and it gave you a warm feeling that no matter how much you tried to push away, would not leave your body.
“booking under (Y/N)” you said as you stepped up to the desk.
“one moment let me just get my supervisor” said the assistant behind the desk, after completing multiple attempts to book you in. this was not your first rodeo, and you knew this never ended well. “I’m so sorry miss, we have your reservation but I’m afraid due to a mistake you haven’t been allocated a cabin” the poor girl told you, the look on her face bracing herself for your wrath.
“okay, so where am I supposed to sleep? A lounger on deck?!” you replied attempting to keep your cool.
“what’s up?” Kenny cut in before you could continue your tirade at the poor girl behind the desk.
“so, I’m booked on the cruise but they don’t have a cabin for me, I mean how does that even work” you sassed looking directly at the assistant.
“just stay with me, I have a suite so there’s room, you take the bed ill sleep in the lounge its fine” he said.
“you can’t sleep on the couch in your own room Kenny, ill just call the agent and let them know I’m cancelling, I’m not doing this” you quickly answered him
“woah, wait. You cant cancel and your here now, it’s not like we haven’t roomed before it’ll be fine” said Kenny softly grabbing your arm to stop you leaving.
“fine, if that’s okay I will. But I’m not happy about it no offence” you added.
“none taken” said Kenny as he approached the desk.
“what’s up with you?” asked matt Jackson as you were waiting for Kenny to finish sorting your situation
“well….cruise line messed up my booking, sharing with Kenney’s you started
“check in girl flirting with your boyfriend” matt interjected.
“wow, no, okay why would you even…” you trailed off. Matt wasn’t stupid, hed known you and Kenny long enough to see the way you looked at each other and knew you where both stubborn enough to not do anything about the sexual tension between you two.
“look, I see the way he looks at you and you at him, plus the way you act around each other you may as well be dating” he said “just do yourselves a favour and work your shit out” he finished before walking off to talk his family.
Kenny approached you after standing back so he could watch you and matt talking, he wasn’t dumb, he knew what matt had said to you. He said it to Kenny often enough “ you ready to go” he said smiling at you offering you your own key to his suite.
“sure I need to change after travelling all day anyways” you said trying to act cool but you knew you where coming across as a bitch.
After making your way to your room, arguing over who was taking the bed (Kenny insisted you take it) and a quick shower and change you where finally doing your favourite thing; sitting in the lounge with a large tequila and tonic. Kenny was nursing a coke zero, he didn’t drink but being around you when you did made all those feelings begin to bubble to the surface, because he knew what was coming. When you drank you got chatty, and you made him promises you (and he) knew you wouldn’t remember in the morning. “stop looking at me like that, it makes me nervous” you told him laughing
“what?! I cant look at you now” he laughed “you shouldn’t be so pretty” he finished making you blush but want to leave immediately.
“why do you do this?, tease me then go back to just pretending we can only be friends” you stated oblivious to the gang sat around the table with you. You got up to leave and Kenny could only stare open mouthed not sure how to reply.
“(Y/N) come back I didn’t mean to upset you” he pleaded, you knew he hadn’t but you couldn’t take another round of the flirting that would lead to a kiss before you both woke up the next day pretending it hadn’t happened.
“go after her you dumbass” hangman said over the rim of his glass “secretly that’s what women want when they make that dramatic exit” earning laughs from your friends around the table. Gingerly Kenny got up and made his way to your room, if things got too awkward he could always room with hangman or nakazawa.
“(Y/N)” Kenny softly said knocking on the bedroom door “open up for me, I’m sorry I upset you. I just cant do this anymore” he said sadly.
“do what, you don’t want to be my friend anymore?” you asked sadly, stepping out the room closer to him. You where not drunk by any means but the strong drink had made you a little brave and he stiffened when you gently touched his shoulder leading him to sit on the couch.
“no, (Y/N). I don’t want to be your friend anymore” he replied. “I want more, id be lying to myself and you if I wasn’t honest. Its killing me to lie, I think we can be more than friends, we are both adults and I’ve wanted more for a long time. If you don’t that’s cool, but I cant do this anymore I’m sorry” he blurted out, all his words coming out at once. Looking visibly relieved and worried all at once.
You knew he was right, you had got to know each other on a level so deep you where practically a long distance couple, suddenly that bravery lept up and out of you and before you knew it you kissed him. He was shocked at first but soon returned it, deepening it “ we really gonna do this (Y/N)” he asked breathless “we gonna make out then pretend we didn’t over breakfast”.
“no, not this time” you replied kissing him again. “I’m sorry weve danced around each other for so long, I should have had the balls to tell you how I felt” you told him staring into his eyes, he could see all the sincerity and vulnerability you had in you at that moment and he knew you could see the same in his.
“I want this to work” said Kenny, “I want you (Y/N)” he stated,
“right now, here on the couch” you smirked, he knew your humour and knew you full stop. “at least take me out to dinner first” you teased .
“you know what I mean” he replied giving you that jaw dropping smile of his “but I mean, if you’re serious. I could eat” he laughed.
“shut up omega” you laughed kissing him again, he moaned into the kiss and you knew that was a sound you wanted to hear again. Maybe the cruise messing up your room was fate you though to yourself. Before getting distracted by some wandering hands.
“I was serious about dinner though ken” you deadpanned after breaking the kiss Making him laugh. Which was slowly becoming your favourite sound … after the kissy moaning.
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