#as far as my brain can process this is the first time they’ve ever held hands the entire time they’ve known each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tennessoui · 3 years

Note

1 - Soulmate AU - Soulamtes share dreams to learn more about each other and to teach each other their local traditions if necessary. Obi-Wan learns the hardship his mate faces in slavery, their secret language, and how to help free slaves. Anakin gets taught about the Jedi, reading, writing, and how amazing his mate is.

ahhhh ok i really don't want to share this under this prompt because i wrote the ask down wrong in my notes so the prompt i wrote follows my poor notes that just say - 'soulmate sharing/learn about them before they meet' but this is amazing prompt wise and it would clear up a ton of misconceptions in the prequels obviously if they both got dreams of the other's early lives but this is.... not that but i hope you enjoy anyway <3 <3

1. Soulmates (and daemons) (2.0 k)

Obi-Wan doesn’t have a soulmate for sixteen years.

It’s just him and the animal representation of his own soul that had traveled to the Temple with him as a babe, a Vulptex kit. She’s named herself now and grown larger and stronger through the years, her coat growing out to perfect crystalline ends. From a distance, they look like razor-sharp spikes of ice. Or so other people have said.

Obi-Wan knows that’s not true. He knows that his soul isn’t cold or untouchable or unreachable. But he’s had no luck telling anyone else that, not when Avarie snaps at everyone who tries to touch her in a manner that’s quite un-Jedi like. She’s prickly and quick to bristle. He’s emotional and angry, even before he’s ten years old.

Look, it’s not easy living around people who all know they have soulmates, either because they’ve met them or because they’ve woken up to find that their own animal has disappeared only to be replaced with their mate’s soul representation.

Most of the time, that sort of switch happens when a person’s still a youngling. A very young youngling. Sometimes babies are taken to the Temple with their soulmate’s animal tucked between tiny arms. Those, in Obi-Wan’s opinion, are the luckiest ones. They never have to wonder if they even have a soulmate at all.

They just grow up knowing that they’ll be loved one day.

Obi-Wan grows up thinking maybe it’s just going to be him and his vulptex until the day he dies. It makes him angry at the injustice of it all.

He knows his own emotions probably keep him from a Padawanship, but he can’t help but think that Avarie’s own appearance and attitude certainly don’t help. They’re at odds with one another for two years, bound together but each ignoring the other. Obi-Wan’s never heard of this before, of fighting with your own soul’s animal.

But, he thinks, most people don’t spend as long with theirs as he has with Avarie.

Perhaps she is everything unlikable about himself, made apparent to everyone else. No one, master or soulmate, would ever want him. Not when everything about his soul screams keep your distance.

Master Jinn taking him as his Padawan is a surprise then, one that soothes over some of Obi-Wan’s soul-deep aches. The night he gets his padawan braid is the first night in years that Avarie curls up against him to sleep.

When he is sixteen and a few standard months old, he wakes up alone in his bed, Avarie nowhere in sight.

Well. Not alone, actually.

A ball of fur that he had originally thought to be a wrinkle in his bedspread whines pitifully and moves to follow him when he sits up.

He stares dumbly down at the strange little muzzle and unopen eyes. Half of its face is a pure white, and the other half a solid black, as if someone has taken it and held it against a fire until its fur was stained with smoke.

“Uh,” he says to his soulmate’s animal. The creature, some sort of canid, perks up at his voice and snuffles closer to him eagerly. “Yes, hello,” Obi-Wan grins, petting its tiny head with the tip of his thumb. It tries to prolong the touch by lifting its muzzle up and whining.

It’s so small.

His soulmate must be...must be just as young.

Obi-Wan is sixteen and a few months and his soulmate has just been born, most likely. But.

But he has a soulmate.

-----

Odyna grows fast, much faster than Obi-Wan had thought possible. It feels like he blinks once on the morning he wakes to see her, and then suddenly she’s at his knees. Her paws and ears are huge still, and Obi-Wan knows she’ll grow much, much bigger.

His master in particular is very interested in trying to figure out what species his soulmate’s animal is.

“She feels incredibly strong in the Force,” Qui-Gon says on more than one occasion. “And her markings--”

Odyna growls from where she’s laying splayed out in Obi-Wan’s lap as he brushes over her furry back. She instantly preens when he taps her gently on the nose.

Some days he thinks she’s the exact opposite of Avarie in every way possible, and has to wonder how his soulmate--who would be six now--is faring with Avarie. He hopes she’s at least letting them pet her.

Odyna relishes Obi-Wan’s attention always, though she scorns anyone else’s hands or affections in a way that reminds him of his own Vulptex.

The Jedi Council was unimpressed with Avarie’s aversion to touch and seems even more skeptical at Odyna’s. “A dangerous, possessive attachment, it will be,” Yoda has told Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan more than once.

Soulmate relationships in the Order are common and practically encouraged, seen as the will of the Force. But even then, possessive attachment is heavily forbidden. The Force animals of the Jedi will often allow other Jedi to touch them and greet them. It’s unbecoming of a Jedi’s soul, to close itself off from the touch of others.

And yet a part of Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from feeling smug about how overt Odyna’s claim over him is. She’s clingy, incredibly needy, and overprotective at turns.

A Jedi’s mission to Lothal brings back a trade deal and a name for Obi-Wan’s soulmate’s Force animal. “It looks just like a Loth-wolf,” she tells him. “But the ones on Lothal I saw were huge. Taller than a Wookie.”

Obi-Wan groans at this. His master is already so much taller than him. Now Odyna too? If his soulmate grows to tower over him as well, he’s going to have some choice words for the Force upon his death.

“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?�� He asks Odyna that night as she flops down onto his bed in her customary position of splayed everywhere. “My room is only so big.”

She grins at him and licks his face.

“Force, that’s so uncivilized,” Obi-Wan grouses, getting up out of bed again to go wash his face.

----

Surprisingly, Tatooine’s heat is not the first thing Obi-Wan notices about the planet. No, what he notices first and foremost is the way that Odyna, until this point relatively satisfied to lay curled around his chair (at nine, she’s big enough to come up to his shoulders when standing), seems to lose her damned mind as soon as the door is open and the hot air permeates the ship.

He was just going to look at the damage, but his soulmate’s Force animal seems to have other plans. Odyna bounds out onto the sand and nudges Obi-Wan forward, hard enough that he loses his balance.

She nudges him again, even as he tries to bat her away. “Odyna, stop it,” he demands, scrambling to his feet.

“Are they...alright?” One of Queen Amidala’s handmaidens asks.

Qui-Gon at least tries to hide his amusement, but Obi-Wan shoots him a dirty look anyway because he can hear the smile in his master’s voice when he says, “Oh yes. This is quite normal.”

It is not normal, thanks.

Odyna howls in agreement.

When Qui-Gon tells them that they’ll have to go into the nearest town to barter or buy the parts needed to fix the ship, Obi-Wan volunteers first. Maybe if he can let Odyna stretch her legs, she’ll calm down.

Instead, the closer they get to Mos Espa proper, the more antsy she becomes until, quite suddenly, she bolts through the streets. Obi-Wan has little choice but to take off after her. It’s almost impossible, of course, to lose a Loth-wolf when they’re that huge, but there’s a sort of strange tight pressure in his chest at having her out of his sight.

He leaves his master and the handmaiden behind without a second thought, but at least he doesn’t have to run far.

Outside a shop that looks as rundown as the other ones, Odyna has stopped and sat down, her tail wagging furiously behind her.

Obi-Wan has a fair few things in mind to yell at her, but all of that gets knocked out of his head when he sees the crystalline figure of a very familiar vulptex standing in the shadow of the loth-wolf.

His breath catches in his throat and he almost loses his balance again when Avarie turns to look at him with those intelligent black eyes, head cocked.

If she’s--if she’s here, then that means--that means--

He stumbles forward until he can kneel in front of his Force animal, hand outstretched.

Suddenly there’s commotion inside the shop and a little boy tears outside holding some sort of rusted pipe over his shoulder threateningly. “Don’t touch her!” the boy yells, brandishing the pipe. “She doesn’t like it, get gone or I’ll make you get gone!”

Obi-Wan blinks. His very first interaction with his soulmate after waiting twenty-five years, and the boy is threatening him.

“You’re mine,” he says dumbly, brain trying to process these impossible events.

It is, of course, the wrong thing to say. If anything, the boy puffs himself up even more. “I’m no one’s!” He yells indignantly. “I’m a person. My name is Anakin Skywalker!”

Obi-Wan holds up his hands in apology. “Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--I meant that she’s mine. Avarie. She’s my soul.”

Anakin lowers his pipe with narrowed eyes. “How’d you know her name?” he asks suspiciously.

Obi-Wan fights the urge to roll his eyes. He’d never considered that he’d have to win over the trust of his soulmate. “She’s my soul,” he says again slowly, before gesturing to the black and white loth-wolf behind them, who has laid down in the dust, tongue hanging out in response to the heat. “As she is yours.”

“You’re my...soulmate?” Anakin drops the pipe as he looks over Obi-Wan in frank disbelief. “But you’re so….”

Obi-Wan raises a wry eyebrow and grins. He braces himself to hear old, or maybe even male.

But instead his soulmate shocks him again by saying, “....pretty! Are you sure you’re not an angel instead?”

Which, of course, corresponds to his master’s arrival. The maiden with him at least has the decency to cover her smile with her hand. Meanwhile, his master’s smirk is probably going to be burned into his memory forever.

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan responds. “I promise, I’m your soulmate.”

“Mine,” Anakin says in a wondrous tone. And then, a grin steals across his face and he grabs Obi-Wan's hand. “My soulmate.”

Obi-Wan hopes this isn’t the beginning of that dangerous possessiveness Yoda has spent years lecturing him about.

-----

“I’m going with him,” Anakin argues, stomping his foot in the Council chambers. Obi-Wan hides his face in his hand. “He’s my master.”

“Anakin, we’ve been over this. You’re much too young for this mission,” Obi-Wan explains gently, as if they don’t have a dozen interested eyes on them.

“I’m twelve!” Anakin will not be deterred. “That’s plenty old!”

“It’s too dangerous,” he tries instead.

“Then you shouldn’t go!”

Obi-Wan wonders if he should try arguing that he’s a twenty-eight year old Jedi Knight, who may go where he pleases. He doesn’t think that’ll go over well with his padawan.

Anakin, he says through their training bond. Do not do this in front of the Council.

Anakin turns to stare mulishly up at him. I want you to be safe.

I will have Odyna with me, Obi-Wan points out, tilting his head in reference to the loth-wolf spread out on the Council Chamber’s floor. And you will have Avarie with you. You will know I am safe. And I will know she is making you sleep and eat and bathe.

Anakin seems to consider this and then crosses his arms, but eventually nods. I don’t like it when she bites me until I go to bed, he grumbles, kicking his feet and glaring over at Avarie, who is dozing between Odyna’s paws.

Obi-Wan fights the urge to chuckle out loud. In truth, he’s a bit jealous that Avarie has figured out a way to get obedience from their soulmate. Half the time, Obi-Wan is still floundering to get simple acknowledgement of a command.

-----

Many years later, of course, when Anakin is a knight and Obi-Wan a master, he figures out the thing that never fails to get Anakin soft and pliant and relaxed.

It’s kisses.

More specifically, kisses from his soulmate while they’re lying in bed together, sheets tangled around their feet and both of their Force animals in the other room, keeping watch at the door.

#asks #prompt fill #soulmates #obikin #this entire fic took hold because i couldn't stop thinking of a physical representation of anakin's soul just #draped behind obi-wan's chair during council meetings #so hell yeah after he gets a seat on the council #odyna sits behind him and growls loudly when she feels his displeasure #its very intimidating actually mission successes are going through the roof #meanwhile anakin has avarie in his lap shes either dozing off #or she's grooming her paws #which always makes anakin laugh #because 'look master she's as picky about her appearance as you are'#soulmate au

173 notes · View notes

xhanisai · 3 years

Text

Truth Or Dare?

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

Adrien gulped, completely frozen in his seat under the gaze of his demonic classmates, the almighty, notorious peer-pressure throwing a concert whilst his Lady continued to act like that the string on the floor was far more interesting than the fact that her newly discovered partner was currently in the hot seat. 'Now how do I answer this!?' He panicked internally, twiddling with his thumbs and praying to the Gods more reliable than Plagg that Marinette would suddenly come up with some brilliant, top-notch plan that would surely get them both out of this. Especially if she doesn't want him to whimper out: "Ya got me! It was Marinette when she kissed the evil out of me after I got shot by Dislocoeur, hahaha! Oh, do I need to mention that I have no recollection of it whatsoever and that I was decked up in my usual catsuit whilst she was in her polka-dotted onesie? A brilliant first kiss, amirite!? Not to mention that our second kiss was also wiped from my memory, cheers for that Alya and Nino!"

Pairing - Adrinette Prompt - 'Truth or Dare?' ~(x)~ . . . Adrien was fucked. He was entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked. And not in the literal way much to the teen's utter dismay and painful frustration. And certainly not anytime soon, judging by his princesse's stiff, flustered posture who was on the floor across him, along with the rest of their class sitting in a circle (sans Lila and Chloé, Dieu merci). Gremlin-like smirks were etched on their friends' mischievous faces and sinister cackles escaped their mouths like the Madhatter from Alice Au Pays Des Merveilles. Even timid ol' Sabrina wore a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat. But never mind that. What was the cherry on top was how both he and Marinette just found out each other's identities no more than ten minutes prior. The two idiots were desperately sprinting back to collège Françoise Dupont after their latest akuma battle without noticing the other, only to literally collide into one other and their transformation to wear off immediately, leaving them both with matching gaping expressions. If luck was on his side, the scenario would have carried on with Adrien whipping out 'suave move #9236' and channelling his inner 'Tamaki Suoh', helping his Lady to her feet with a smile so sexy and seductive (guaranteed to win her over of course) and then him proceeding to ask her out for a cup of coffee where they can talk! Then, he would have totally charmed her with another brilliant smile that would have surely fly kicked away whatever feelings she had for that 'other' boy (he named him M. Imbécile), caressing that soft, soft cheek of hers with his hand and surely they would have leaned in for a hot, passionate, true love's kiss (and he'd finally know what it's like to be properly smooched)! MAIS NON. NON. His five seconds of absolute happiness, of pure bliss after finding out that the two girls he bloody loved so damn much and practically worshipped, were one and the same- WAS INTERRUPTED. . The inconveniently timed Ladyblogger and her DJ boyfriend arrived at the scene, practically snatching both him and Marinette away and back to class, babbling about how Mme. Bustier was going to arrive late hence they were going to take advantage of it. By taking advantage, they meant avoiding all responsibilities by playing a specific game. A game that Adrien has learnt to now, unconditionally despise. . "We're not getting any younger here, Buttercup. Tell us, who was your first kiss? And don't even think about lying your way out, we can tell by your face that you definitely got some sort of action~" Alya's glasses flashed in such a devilish way, even Le Papillon would have found himself shitting his pants. "Of course, if you don't want to answer the truth...you can always pick dare," 'LIKE HELL I WILL!' The last person to have picked 'dare' was Rose and she was instructed to deliver a hearty smack to Kim's bum! The teen model pretty much vowed that the only booty his hands were allowed to touch was Marinette's, with consent obviously. And vice versa. And the person before Rose who chose 'dare' was Nino! He was dared to sneak outside, climb to the top of the building's rooftop and sing Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' from the top of his lungs, recording himself live on Instagram as proof. It was a miracle that he never got caught by the staff! Again, the feline hero very much preferred that any attempts of his serenading would only be heard by the ears of the love of his life. . Adrien gulped, completely frozen in his seat under the gaze of his demonic classmates, the almighty, notorious peer-pressure throwing a concert whilst his Lady continued to act like that the string on the floor was far more interesting than the fact that her newly discovered partner was currently in the hot seat. 'Now how do I answer this!?' He panicked internally, twiddling with his thumbs and praying to the Gods more reliable than Plagg that Marinette would suddenly come up with some brilliant, top-notch plan that would surely get them both out of this. Especially if she doesn't want him to whimper out: "Ya got me! It was Marinette when she kissed the evil out of me after I got shot by Dislocoeur, hahaha! Oh, do I need to mention that I have no recollection of it whatsoever and that I was decked up in my usual catsuit whilst she was in her polka-dotted onesie? A brilliant first kiss, amirite!? Not to mention that our second kiss was also wiped from my memory, cheers for that Alya and Nino!" Unfortunately, (once again) for him, not even his pleading kitty eyes were able to penetrate the wall of aloofness that Marinette held between them, leaving him completely on his own, ready to be torn apart by their friends' malevolent hands. He was the equivalent of a teeny tiny, illegally cute kitten, surrounded by a circle of hungry, deadly, carnivorous wolves, licking their chops! Yet, Marinette remained unphased, pretending to stare out into space and think about what her Maman and Papa would prepare for dinner as if Adrien's scrutinising gaze weren't like arrows all over her side. However, much to her disadvantage, Agreste is her partner and he knew her very, very well. The desperate cat was able to pinpoint the cold sweat that was growing on her forehead, knowing that his presence was starting to get to her and conscious of the fact that she cannot ignore him for long either. 'Come on Marinette, you can't resist me forever. Please help!' His lack of any sort of psychic powers didn't stop him from wishing that she could read his mind but dammit did he try. 'Don't you love your pauvre Chaton!? Aidez-moi s'il vous plaît, My Lady!!!' Just before he could resort to begging out loud, Alix Kubdel... ...snickered. Simply from that evil, ominous sound, both Adrien and Marinette paled on the spot at a speed faster than M. Césaire's panther could ever dream of running at. "Ever since we asked you that question, not once have you looked away from Marinette...now why is that~?" The short girl's insight caused the rest of the class to gasp cheekily and "Oooh~?" simultaneously, their ferocious appetite for juicy gossip now at full throttle much to both heroes' apprehension. "And you, Mari! You look like a kid who got caught stealing from the cookie jar. I think the two of you have something big to admit to the rest of us, hmm?" "...No-oooo...?" Dupain-Cheng refused to make eye contact with anyone, her lips stuck between what looked like a grimace and a fake smile, continuing her sentence which was just as truthful as Jagged Stone's claims of being in his mid-twenties. "I am still a lowly virgin maiden in the kissing department...heheh...heh..." Adrien on the other hand blinked owlishly as he finally came to a conclusion, his singular working brain cell grinding its gear through his thought process. Oh? Ohoh??? OHOHOOHOH??????? . "So that means I was your first kiss too?" . If there was a compilation labelled "Top Ten Ways That Adrien Mothafuckin' Stupid Agreste Fucked Up"... This would be number one. "...You didn't hear me say that out loud...right?" He gulped meekly, shrinking under the astonished looks that everyone gave him, his Lady's jaw dropping further than what he assumed was humanely possible. He. Was. Fucked. . The entire classroom erupted with utter chaos. Ranging from high pitched squeals from Alya, Rose, Mylène and Kim to "HOLY SHIT!" and "HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?" from Alix, Nino, Juleka and so on. Even Marinette was left burning brighter than a tomato, covering her face in embarrassment along with her iconic mantra: "THIS IS A DISASTER!!!" and shaking her head. Money was exchanged from secretive bets that were placed on the model and designer, naughty comments were thrown around left and right and even more! If one were to enter the room right now, they'd think that they've just stumbled across a hectic zoo. Never in his life did Adrien want the ground to swallow him up so badly or even run away at the speed of sound to an unknown island where he would live off of fruit and grow old all alone without ever getting married. Marinette probably- no, she definitely hates him now. Her refusal to come out of her 'Don't talk to me, I'm catastrophising' human ball and face him was more than enough evidence to prove that. Who was he kidding, thinking that he would be able to get such a wonderful, spectacular girl like her to fall for a hopeless, ridiculous nincompoop like him? His attempts in the past never worked out before and it certainly wouldn't have worked out now. Forget about pursuing a romantic relationship with her, he's one-hundred percent sure that he's absolutely tarnished what was left of their friendship! He can visualise his terrifying, depressing excuse of a future already. No more shy, cute greetings with a gorgeous smile in the mornings before class from Marinette. No more fun banter and warm hugs on their favourite patrol environments from Marinette. No more cheeky jokes and flirty teasing from Marinette. No more timid conversations and saying his name in the most softest way he's ever heard from Marinette. And, no more perfect "Bien joué!" fist bumps after an akuma battle from Marinette... How...how was he supposed to live without her? 'Shit, I can feel my eyes starting to water...' He took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling to force the traitorous tears away from daring to come out. The last thing Marinette needed was to deal with a dumb crybaby like him after he's just embarrassed her like that with his stupid, big mouth- "-But when did this happen, Marinette??? Girl, why didn't you tell me!?" Snapping out of his self-pity, Adrien tuned back into the pandemonium, wincing at how mortified Marinette still looked (albeit she was no longer in her cocoon of doom). She pursed her lips at Alya with that adorable pout of hers, unsure of how to answer with something that didn't sound like a terrible excuse. . Finally, a solid answer blared in Adrien's brain, the blonde teen adamant that he turned the situation around and salvaged what was left of the bond between him and his Princesse. For now, he can focus on the dreadful future after he got the current situation sorted. He would do anything to make Marinette feel good around him again. "It was during that time we were at le Musée Grévin when I invited Alya, Nino, Marinette and Manon to join me," He ignored the way that their classmates leaned closer with wide grins, focusing on sending a quiet apology to Marinette's direction with his pleading eyes alone. "I was being dumb and tried to play a prank on Marinette when the other three were away. I ended up tripping and Marinette tried to help me but I accidentally pulled her down with me and...we accidentally kissed..." Although the scenario wasn't fully true, Marinette did manage to land a light peck upon his lips during that incident and that's all it took for it to be branded in his memory. The sear of foreign warmth that left his lips in tingles, the subtle taste of strawberry gloss that left him hungry for more and the unadulterated softness that rivalled even the most expensive of silk. He hoped that his little white lie towards the end was enough to alleviate what was left of Marinette's embarrassment, deaf to their classmates' coos and brows furrowed to emphasise how sorry he was to the girl he loves. Although there was still a hint of pink on her cheeks, her expression was something that he wasn't able to decipher and that only made his heart race even faster than before. 'Please don't hate me, please don't hate me, please don't hate me-' "So how was the kiss, then?" Ivan waggled his eyebrows, both him and his girlfriend playfully winking at Marinette at her protesting stammers. "Oh? E-Erm...it was very quick and brief so I didn't get a chance to enjoy it-" His treacherous eyes decided to land on Marinette's lips midway, his mind screaming to stop digging a deeper hole for himself. He wasn't quick enough to flit his gaze away, the indication that he wanted to kiss her again so painfully obvious that even a blind person would have noticed. "-It was very soft and nice, however! I don't regret it-" Suddenly... . ...Marinette stood up. Adrien felt like his heart was going to bust out of his chest with the way it ricocheted against his ribcage, his emerald eyes wide with apprehension and his breath lodged in his throat as if a vice was clasped around his neck. Was she going to kill him? He certainly thought he deserved it. "Alya," The heroine in disguise began, the teen model unable to hide his flinch. "Dare me to kiss Adrien."

She lifted her head to face her partner, her sapphire blues no longer hidden in the shadows of her fringe and sparkling with both amusement and...love? Her kissable lips were upturned into a confident smile with a gloss that was begging for him to taste and he was absolutely losing his mind. Was he dreaming? He must be dreaming. Yes. No way in the seven heavens would Marinette, THE Marinette, would want to kiss HIM, the embodiment of bad luck! Yet, the twinkling of her eyes and the warmth that radiated from her as she walked closer and closer towards him said otherwise. He didn't even hear Alya's excited declaration for Marinette's dare, solely focused on the way his Lady kneeled in front of him, smoothed her hands towards his cheeks and cupped them so gingerly. . "Pucker up, Buttercup," Marinette murmured against his lips with an endearing smirk, grazing her nose with his and rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs before sealing the kiss. . With all the romantic daydreams and boyish yearning he went through when it came to Marinette's lips, Adrien thought that he was well prepared for the real deal if the day were to ever come, disregarding his bad luck of course. However, he has been wrong before. He's absolutely, definitely, positively wrong now. The brief, shocked, brush of lips back in the wax museum was barely a taster. Barely a glimpse of the real thing. Not even close to a sample of the luxury. From the moment she pressed her lips against his, Adrien was hit with an outstanding overwhelm of fervour, tenderness and sweetness. His body instinctively shuddered as a pleasant fire seeped from her mouth to his and then coursed through the veins of the rest of his body, his hand that was clutching his precious good luck charm gift from Marinette then loosening its grip and automatically reaching for her cheek. His piano fingers dug into the locks of one of her ponytails, entangling them. 'If this really is a dream, then please, don't wake me up,' The sensation was slightly odd and just, indescribable at the same time. Yet, the more he tasted that strawberry gloss, the more her lips moved against his, the further he fell in love, addicted to the sugar that he's craved for so long. His red-tipped ears were oblivious to the class' whoops and cheers, his heart crashing against his chest louder than ever and the feel of hers doing just the same against him had him soaring. 'She never hated me all along, right? This isn't a kiss of hate at all,' But most importantly, the feeling of Marinette's pulse quickening from when his fingertips slid down to meet the side of her sensitive neck, cradling the back of it and the almost inaudible whimper she let out, was branded to his touch and memory like an imprint. 'So this is a real first kiss? Is this what Marinette felt when she kissed me to get rid of Kim's spell? How did she manage to keep her composure around me since then?' Just as Marinette pulled away, her eyes shimmering with wonderful emotions and her lips as beautifully rosy as her cheeks, Adrien couldn't resist and pulled her back in without a beat. As if to make up for all those missed opportunities, all the moments where he could have stolen her breath away and all those unsaid words that surely would have made them happy. They could talk about the reveal and their feelings afterwards in the safety of Marinette's humble balcony without any prying eyes. They could sort out their overwhelming emotions and bask through their memories over that cup of coffee that Adrien now has the confidence to ask her out on. But just for now, the two of them wanted to enjoy their present and make the most of it. 'Sweet, sweet, sweet, she's so sweet...' . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Ah shit it's six am. I'll edit this tomorrow.

#my writing #my fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrinette #adrienette #post reveal pre relationship #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #this is slight crack #but it's very fluffy too

278 notes · View notes

biaswreckingfics · 3 years

Text

No Limits: Part 14

Author: biaswreckingfics

Genre: Mafia AU - Warnings? Everything that goes on in a mafia au

Word Count: 7.1k

Previous Chapter

Y/N's POV

Minseok was recklessly speeding back to the compound, and you were thankful that in your haste, you still remembered to put on your seatbelt. You glance over your shoulder at the backseat every time Minseok makes a sharp turn and catch Sehun trying to stop himself from slamming into the door each time. You knew if he was in the right mindset, he would've cussed Minseok out, but judging by the look on his face, he was far from it.

The shocked and fearful look that showed up on his face when he was talking to Jaesuk was still present, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was fear for himself or Jaesuk. When you had spoken to Sehun at the beach about his Baem friend, you had no indication of how close they were. It was clear to you now, however, that the two had grown closer than you realized. It didn't really hit you until you heard Jaesuk's words to Sehun before he hung up.

The Baem man telling Sehun to help EXO do whatever they needed to do, and then to end them... Then him hoping to see Sehun when this was all over... The entire conversation was unexpected; and not something you would've ever predicted to come out of a Baem member's mouth.

"Jesus christ, Minseok." Sehun grits out as he slams into the door again.

"You should've put your seatbelt on, you idiot." Minseok throws back without sympathy.

"No shit."

You watch Sehun look around like he was debating if it would be worth it to put his seatbelt on when you were already so close to the compound. In the end, he must've said screw it because he sat back with a huff and a tight grip on the door handle.

You notice Minseok glancing at you when he has a small chance to look away from the road, and it makes you nervous. After the third glance, you finally ask him why he keeps looking at you.

"I just want you to realize that once we walk through those doors, we're going to war. No more playtime or throwing around threats. We're attacking the Baem today."

You swallow nervously and let his words sink into you. This was going to be your first time seeing EXO in action... and this might be the last time you ever see some of these men who have become your family again... You shake those thoughts from your head. This is what you wanted. You wanted the Baem to pay for everything they've done and now was your chance to make sure they finally do.

You look up in time to see Minseok whip into the driveway and hear Sehun's muttered "finally" from the back. There was no time to be scared or nervous, so when Minseok throws open his door, you're quick to follow.

Sehun, on the other hand, was not. You notice him slowly getting out of the SUV while taking in the giant brick structure in front of him. He slowly closes the door behind him, and you find yourself wondering what was going through his head for the third time today. This was his first time home in months, and the first time he'll be seeing all of EXO with his memories intact.

You follow Minseok up to the front door and glance back to see Sehun slowly trailing behind you. The second Minseok opens the door, you can hear a cacophony of voices coming from the other side of it like they were all standing right at the door waiting. Which, you find out, is exactly the case.

You jump a little when you see the group of men focus on you and Minseok as you walk into the house. Your eyes immediately find Baekhyun, and he gives you a relieved smile once he sees you. His eyes quickly scanning you from head-to-toe to make sure you're okay, which is a habit you noticed he picked up months ago, any time you walked out the front door without him. A moment later, his eyes fall onto something behind you, and that's when you know he's spotted Sehun.

"No way..." Jongin breathily lets out from beside Baekhyun.

Sehun slowly steps into the house behind you and takes in all the shocked faces staring at him. The shock mostly being felt by Baekhyun, Yixing, and Jongin, who were seeing him for the first time since the warehouse.

Sehun's eyes dart around before they find the exact person he was looking for. He stares at Chanyeol, who carefully watches him through sad eyes before he takes a step toward him. Chanyeol startles at the action, and his eyes widen in confusion.

Sehun quickly closes the gap between them and pulls the slightly taller man into a tight hug. Chanyeol remains frozen as Sehun quickly begins mumbling apologies.

"I'm sorry for being gone so long... and I'm sorry for not remembering you..."

Minseok quietly informs the room that Sehun has his memories back as the rest of the men watch in confusion. Once Chanyeol hears this, his arms fly up around Sehun and pull him impossibly closer, the latter letting out a small "umph".

"He remembers us?!" Jongin asks excitedly before a sour expression takes over his face. "Good, because he pulled some shit at the warehouse that I never got to bitch at him for."

Jongdae tells him to shut up as they all patiently wait for the cousins to properly reunite. Your eyes trail over to Yixing, and you can see him slightly biting his lip while he stares at Sehun. You knew he was itching to check Sehun out, now that his memories were back, but he knew now wasn't the right time.

"As much as I'd love to celebrate Sehun coming back to us...We need to act now before the Baem does."

Junmyeon's words sobered up the room as they all remembered what needed to be done. Ripples of words echoed through the men as they talked amongst themselves about what they were going to do. The word "bombs" being thrown around enough times to catch both your and Sehun's attention. Just what the hell was their plan?

"I'm sorry about the irony of this," Junmyeon vaguely begins saying, pulling the attention of Sehun. "How this is almost exactly like the last time you were with us. Rushing out the door after the Baem, and blowing up buildings... It's almost like you didn't miss anything at all..."

"Except we're missing one important person..." Sehun quietly says before looking over toward Jongdae, "and have apparently gained some more."

You follow his line of sight and notice three guys behind Jongdae that you had never seen a day in your life. How the hell did you miss three random faces when you came in here? It was like everything you had apparently learned in your training had gone out the window. Then Sehun's words penetrate through your brain, and you realize he had brought up Kyungsoo.

"How did you end up finding out?" Chanyeol quietly asks him.

Sehun looks down at his feet like he's trying to find the right words to say. He inhales deeply before looking up at the rest of you.

"The first 'mission' the Baem sent me on was to come here and report back to them everyone who showed up to a memorial that was being held in the backyard... I didn't realize it at the time, but it was Kyungsoo's..."

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission. He was sent to spy on his own friend's funeral, and he didn't even know it. The thought made you absolutely sick to your stomach, and you knew the feeling was mutual among the rest of the men. Their face's portraying their anger and pain at the thoughts of Sehun being put in that situation.

"When my memories came back, and I had time to reflect on everything... I was able to connect some dots... and it really fucking sucked when I realized what had happened," he recalls through gritted teeth, trying to hide his sadness.

"The fact that he's..." Sehun shakes his head and takes a breath, "I haven't truly been able to process it yet... I am happy, in some twisted sort of way, that I was able to be at the memorial, though... Even if I didn't realize it was for Kyungsoo, I felt... connected to him. I remember thinking how crazy it was that both of us were in the same explosion, but only one of us made it... I just didn't realize how connected we were."

The back of your throat burns, and you blink a few times to try to relieve the stinging you were feeling in your eyes, but it doesn't help much. While Sehun was talking, the thought that Sehun didn't know what happened to Kyungsoo occurred to you. That it was Sehun's own weapon that ended up taking Kyungsoo out. You find Chanyeol's eyes as you remember him telling you Sehun would blame himself if he ever found out how Kyungsoo had died. You were starting to get dangerously close to that happening.

Sehun couldn't find out what happened that night. At least, not yet. Not when you still had something to do, so you try to get Sehun to focus on something else.

"Sehun... did you stick around after the memorial ended? Were you..."

"Watching you?" He asks, and you nod. "Yeah, that was me. I was about to leave when you came back outside. I stayed because they wanted me to gather any information I could... on all of you."

"You were the shadow man on the cameras this whole time?" Jongin asks in surprise. "Well, I guess that's one less thing we have to worry about."

It was a relief to know it had been Sehun watching you, and not some creep or enemy. Now you could put that silent question that had always been in the back of your head to rest, and get some answers to some other questions you had.

You point to the men behind Jongdae and immediately ask, "Who are they?"

Jongdae glances over his shoulder at the men behind him, and that's when you take a good look at their appearances. All three of them looked to be in their mid to late 20's, just like most of you were, but they all held a slightly more innocent look than you were used to. Not to say they were innocent because they definitely gave off some "bad boy" vibes, but besides the lip and nose piercings two of them had, they looked very plain. Black hair and black clothes like they wanted to hide from the world and not be seen.

Jongdae surprises you when he answers your abrupt question. "These are members of Kyungsoo and I's old gang... I knew we were going to need some help, and they were more than willing to offer themselves... They want revenge for Kyungsoo, just like the rest of us."

One of the men nods at Jongdae's words as another one looks at you. You meet his gaze and see curiosity in his eyes. That's when you figure that they must know Kyungsoo died while saving you. It didn't seem like he blamed you for it, but he was definitely intrigued by you.

"We'll accept any help that you can offer. How many of there are you?" Your brother asks.

"15. All more than willing to do what's necessary."

His words make you wonder if this is the first time they've gone head to head with a mafia group. If you remembered correctly, they were a part of a small gang that pushed drugs into schools and universities. They weren't dealing with selling weapons, extortion, and the more vile things these groups did.

They were willing to take that final step for Kyungsoo, but would they actually be able to do it?

"Perfect. That'll be a lot of help." Junmyeon says, snapping you to attention.

"Alright, here's the deal. We're dividing each district between two of you and each of your units. How you want to handle each district will be for you guys to figure out when you get there, but we'll have roughly a 20 minute time frame to get everything done from start to finish. Jongdae, since you have your old gang with you, you'll be getting two districts to cover. There's enough of you that you'll be able to handle it."

Jongdae nods. "That's fine. Which areas?"

"Districts 5 and 7. Baekhyun and Jongin, you have District 3, which is the closest to downtown, so you'll need to be a little more careful. Chanyeol and Sehun, will the two of you be okay to work together?"

"Absolutely." Chanyeol immediately says without hesitation.

"Okay, then you'll have District 6 along the river. Minseok and I will take District 2 on the east side."

You had been watching your brother hand out orders and assignments in a very militaristic fashion without an issue... but to hear that he was going out on this mission was a surprise to you. You thought it was important for the leader to remain safe in case everything went wrong... Why would he so willingly jump into the chaos?

"You're going out there?" Sehun asks in surprise. Apparently, he was on the same wavelength as you.

"I'm not sitting this one out." Your brother adamantly says with a shake of his head before smirking and looking over at Minseok. "It'll be just like old times."

"Where do you want us?" Yixing asks.

Your eyebrows raise at his question. There was only one other person in the room without an assignment, and it was you. Were you the other part of the "us" and if you were, why are you just now finding out about it?

"Yixing and Y/N will be in the middle of all the districts in District 4. Along with Yixing's medical unit, they'll be tending to the wounded, as well as alerting all teams of any incoming back up. They'll have a good vantage point of each area."

You swore your body was as stiff as a board while your brother spoke. You didn't know the first thing about first aid, let alone know how to do triage or whatever the hell else they did in warzones because that was exactly what this was about to be.

There were going to be innocent bystanders walking around out there, and police will probably come in and attempt to stop whatever was happening. Not to mention the EXO and Baem members that will be trying to kill each other in the middle of it all. Also, lets not forget that you didn't even know what the fuck their plan was. You were going in completely blind, and you knew that was your brother's intention.

You wanted to be involved, so he put you out there in the thick of it, but he made sure to truly keep you out of the way. You could help them, but apparently only so much. You weren't even sure if you should be angry, offended, or scared that you now possibly held their lives in your hands, and you didn't know how to do anything about it.

"Y/N, Yixing will fill you in on everything on the way there. Chanyeol, you'll have to fill Sehun in too. The rest of us know what we need to do." Junmyeon tells the room while looking at each person in the eye.

"What even is your plan?" You finally find your voice, and boy, does it sound pissed off. "What the hell are you even doing?"

"We're blowing up half the city tonight, baby girl," Jongin says with a smirk.

Baekhyun snaps his head toward the younger man when he hears the nickname that had fallen from his lips before promptly slapping him in the back of the head. "Don't call her that."

Junmyeon rolls his eyes at the two before turning to look at you. He could tell you were pissed off about being so in the dark and that you probably thought whatever their plan was, was stupid, so he tries to placate you. "Yixing will fill you in on the way."

You feel yourself grinding your teeth at your brother's response. You glare at him also, so he can truly get it through his thick skull how fucked up this was, but then you slowly nod, because what else are you supposed to do? Throw a fit? Claim you're not going because you didn't get your way? No. You were going to suck it up and deal with your anger later.

"We're doing this to show the rest of the mafia world not to fuck with us. To prove we will not be walked over, and that anything that is done to us will be returned tenfold... but we're also doing this for those the Baem have taken from us," your brother states in a strong voice. "We let them get away with too much, and that ends today."

Jongdae matches Junmyeon's stare with a steely expression. "For Kyungsoo."

"Jisoo and Minhyuk," Baekhyun adds with determination.

"Jiho..." Chanyeol says before slowly looking at his cousin. "And Sehun."

You meet your brother's stare and remember the night that started you both down the paths you were now leading. "Our parents."

Junmyeon nods and then turns to look at the rest of the men. "Tonight, this ends. We will not let a single Baem member escape. We're going to eradicate that group off the face of this planet, and by the end of the day, they will all be dead."

It would be hard for anyone to follow up the words that just poured from your brother with anger and determination, so no one bothered to try. Wordlessly, everyone started packing up their gear and whatever else they needed and headed out to their vehicles.

Since you were never told about anything that was going to happen, you awkwardly stand in the entryway, feeling like you're just in the way of everyone else rushing around. Yixing and a man you've only seen a handful of times before were carrying medical supplies out to one of the black SUVs while you debated asking him if he needed help.

Before you could decide, a hand slides into your own, and you're quickly pulled down the hallway and away from the men getting ready to risk their lives. Your eyes follow the line of the arm and eventually see the back of Baekhyun's head as he pulls you along with him.

"Baek, where are we going?"

He glances back at you with a small, borderline sad, smile. "I just need a minute..."

You allow him to pull you into the kitchen and watch as he quickly scans to make sure the two of you were alone. Once he's satisfied, he turns to you with a serious gaze that only slightly shocks you.

"Baek..." you quietly say, squeezing the hand he was still holding on to.

"I need a moment to be alone with you before... everything goes down." He reaches for your other hand and holds them both gently. "I don't know if - "

"Stop." You quickly tell him, not wanting to hear the words you know are going to come out of his mouth.

"No. We need to face reality... There's a chance... that I might not make it back from this... Hell, there's a chance you might not either. We have no idea what's going to happen today... That's why I had to be alone with you one last time... I needed to do this."

With those words, he pulls you toward him by your hands before letting them go and placing his gently on both of your cheeks. He lightly swipes his thumbs over your cheeks like he is handling the most fragile jewel in the world. His eyes search your own, and you can't tell if he's trying to find comfort or take a mental image of this moment so he'll never forget it.

He slowly leans forward, and your eyes reflexively close once you feel the slight brush of his lips on yours. He adds a little pressure to the kiss, but it still remains soft and gentle. It was a reassuring, you're-my-entire-world kiss that you will carry with you forever, but if this was the last time you would see him, you needed something more.

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and pull him closer to you, your lips immediately pushing harder on to his. He quickly follows suit and deepens the kiss, his hands reaching down to your waist and tugging you impossibly closer.

You kiss him like this was the last time you'll ever see him. You put every amount of emotion you can into it: fear, love, desperation, hope... and you can tell in the tight way he holds you that he's doing the same. His fingers grip into your sides like he's afraid to let you go, to let this moment end, and if you're honest with yourself... you're afraid too.

Unfortunately, there was no more time for stalling, and as much as you wanted to ignore Jongin's shouts for Baekhyun, you knew you couldn't. You break the kiss but make no move to pull away. Baekhyun lets out a sigh as he rests his forehead against yours.

He reaches back up to cup your cheek and lets out a quiet, "I love you". A small smile grows on your face as you fight the tears that are attempting to escape from your eyes. "I love you too."

Baekhyun notices your watery eyes immediately and shakes his head slightly, whispering, "Please, don't cry. I'll never be able to walk away from you if you do..."

"I'm sorry..." you match his tone, "I'm just scared of what'll happen."

"I know, baby. I know." He pulls away and lightly kisses your forehead. "I'm going to fight like hell to come back to you, and you better do the same if you need to."

You nod against him as he pulls you into a tight hug. You couldn't speak at the moment because you knew if any words came out tears would be soon to follow, so you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him instead. You wish the moment could last forever, but it's abruptly interrupted when Jongin comes through the kitchen door looking for Baekhyun.

You catch him awkwardly trying to pretend he didn't interrupt anything as you pull away from the warmth and comfort that is Baekhyun.

"Sorry to interrupt, but... it's time to go."

A slight stab of fear pierces your heart because everything was happening so freaking fast. You felt like you had zero time to prepare yourself mentally or emotionally for whatever was about to happen, and it was all coming to a head quicker than you liked.

Baekhyun's hand stays on the small of your back as the two of you follow Jongin back down the hallway. The only people left in the compound were your brother, Minseok, Yixing, and the man you just remembered was named Junyoung. As you approach the group, who were clearly waiting for you, your brother gives you a small smile. Once you're in reach, his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head, lightly patting your hair.

"You ready?" You nod at his question, and your brother pulls you into a tight hug of his own. "After today, we won't have to worry about the Baem anymore. We're going to get the revenge we should've gotten years ago."

After he pulls away, time slips from you. You're ushered out into an SUV and driving towards the city before you even realize Yixing is the one driving you. You turn to the back seat and see Junyoung staring out the window behind you.

"Ah, she's back." Yixing tries to joke, but you're not in the mood.

"Yixing... what's going to happen tonight?"

You knew Jongin said they were blowing up half of the city, but that couldn't be true, right? There was no way for something like that to go unnoticed. How would you even begin to explain it?

"Jongin was exaggerating, right?"

A grimace passes on Yixing's face, and you know right away, Jongin had not been exaggerating.

"What the hell?! How are any of you going to get away with this?"

Yixing shrugs like what they were going to do wasn't even a big deal. "That's just how it works. The city officials will take care of the explanation. Gas leaks, terrorism, maybe even gang violence, but either way, they benefit from this."

"How do they benefit from their city being blown up?" You ask in disbelief.

"If everything goes right, an entire mafia family is going to be wiped away. That's less crime, fewer drugs, and less mafia leader's to deal with. Any debts or blackmail the Baem have on them will be gone, and that's all they care about."

"But you guys will still have that information... which is exactly why they'll cover for you."

He smirks as you piece together the inner workings of corruption. "You're just like your brother, mafia princess."

You make a face at the name and feel the slightest bit of your mood change. "Don't ever call me that again."

Sehun's POV

He anxiously taps his fingers against his leg as he sits in the passenger seat of Chanyeol's car. So many things were running through his mind that he almost couldn't even pick one to focus on.

As they followed one of the men's vehicles ahead, Jongdae he thinks, he finally focuses in on one thing. How weird it was to be with Chanyeol again. Well, EXO in general, but especially in the car with Chanyeol now. It had been months since he's seen his home or been within such close proximity to his cousin, and you'd think he'd be ecstatic, but he was more conflicted than he expected.

He couldn't be happier to be back with his family and to feel safe but the familiarity he once felt was further away than he expected. He knew he had changed. Anyone who went through what he had was bound to come back different. He just didn't expect to feel so removed from himself. Maybe it was because he had no chance to acclimate back into his old life. He was immediately thrown back into the chaos that was eerily similar to the last time he went out on an EXO mission.

That was another thing that bothered him. Once Chanyeol explained what they were doing, Sehun felt a tightening in his chest. A fear he didn't even realize he had was growing inside of him. He was terrified of history repeating itself, of one of them being lost to EXO or another being lost to himself. He wasn't mentally prepared for it.

The next thing that was bugging him was where Jaesuk was. Had he been able to get away? Did the leaders find him? Was he already gone from this world? Sehun had to find out what happened to him before this was all over.

Chanyeol turns off the headlights as they approach the corner of the street they needed, snapping Sehun from his thoughts. The sun was still setting, painting the sky with purples and golds, and providing enough light for them to see.

Sehun took note of the fact that they weren't in an extravagant area of town. In fact, the houses were majorly run down or already abandoned by whoever owned them previously. It would be easy to blow up this area without a thought or worry about people being around and catching them.

A black SUV was waiting up ahead, and Sehun knew it was men from his and Chanyeol's units. A spark of relief fills him at the thought of seeing his men. The ones who somehow managed to grow on him, even though Sehun often tried to keep his distance from them.

"The warehouse is about a quarter of a mile to the East, but this will be our rendezvous point," Chanyeol informs him, nodding his head to where the men are.

They pull to a stop behind the SUV, and Chanyeol turns off the ignition. Before he opens his door, he turns to Sehun. "I know you just came back, but there's no one else I'd rather have by my side right now."

Sehun nods, not knowing what to say to the soft words that flowed from Chanyeol's mouth, but he doesn't even get the chance to speak. His cousin throws open the door and climbs out of his car, leaving Sehun sitting there. He watches Chanyeol walk over to the men and decides it's now or never.

Pushing the car door open, he slowly climbs out of the vehicle and starts to head over to the men Chanyeol had greeted. Almost one-by-one, all eight of them turn to face him with equal amounts of shock and confusion. Their gazes switch back and forth between Sehun and Chanyeol, trying to figure out what's going on. Clearly, none of them had expected Sehun to show up today, especially on this mission.

Sehun feels a wave of awkwardness ripple through the men as he comes to a stop in between two of them. A moment later, he's being grabbed by multiple arms and being pulled into a hug with his men. Sehun tries to hide the small smile creeping on his face at their low greetings. He doesn't want them to think he has gone soft, but the smile is there anyway.

"Alright, we'll celebrate later," Chanyeol says, breaking up the moment. "You guys know what to do. Set up devices every 10 yards around the warehouse's perimeter, and if you get caught by anyone, shoot them. Make sure your silencers are on to minimize the sound, and whatever you do, do not let them capture you. There will not be a rescue mission here. If you're not at the rally point in 15 minutes, that's it. This building is going to be blown sky-high. Don't be in it."

Sehun notices the four men from Chanyeol's unit slowly nod, but the four from Sehun's unit look hesitant. Actually, they all looked hesitant to follow Chanyeol's orders but, in the end, his men were going to no matter what. Sehun's men, however, look to Sehun for leadership, and Sehun looks back and forth between them and Chanyeol.

"Do exactly as he said. He knows more about this than I do." Sehun finally tells them once he realizes they're waiting for his orders.

Whatever awkwardness was happening here would have to wait until later. Hopefully, he'd have a chance to talk with them and figure out what the heck was going on and why they weren't immediately listening to Chanyeol.

10 minutes later, all of Sehun's and his unit's bombs were in place and ready to be detonated. There was one close call where he thought they were going to get caught, but they were able to hide quick enough and finish the task. Sehun was surprised to see the warehouse so empty and seemingly unguarded. It was enough to put him on edge, considering he knew from his time with the Baem that this was usually a well-secured building.

The little alarm bells in his head started ringing once they got to the rally point, and he noticed Chanyeol and his men weren't anywhere in sight. Sehun tried to calm himself because he knew they had another five minutes to get here but, with each minute that passed, Sehun grew increasingly worried.

Once the 15 minutes were up, and Chanyeol was still a no-show, Sehun immediately started making his way back toward the building. He makes it a few feet before one of his men grips his arm tightly.

"He said this wasn't a rescue mission."

"If you think I'm not going in there after my cousin, you're very much mistaken."

The man moves in front of him in an attempt to physically stop him, and Sehun has to stop himself from laughing. "It's been 15 minutes. We have to be in sync with the other groups, or backup will show up here to protect the warehouse."

"First of all," Sehun says, while removing the man's grip from his arm, "don't grab me like that again. Secondly, I don't give a fuck what Chanyeol said. I'm not leaving anyone behind, and I'm certainly not leaving five of them. I wouldn't leave any of you behind, so I'm not leaving my own family behind either. Give me five minutes, and if I'm not back, blow it up."

"We're not blowing up the building with you in it." Another one of his men says while stepping closer to them.

"But you'll do it with five other men in there?" Sehun asks with disappointment.

"I don't know what the hell happened while I was gone, but this is not how we do things, and we're not going to start now."

The man next to him bites his lip while looking over at the one who had the guts to stop Sehun before deciding for himself. "You're right. We don't leave anyone behind. We'll give you five minutes, but then we're coming in after you."

Sehun gives a curt nod, already planning the discussion he was going to have with his unit for the little stunt that was just pulled before running for the warehouse. He couldn't believe they were willing to leave the other men behind, and he didn't care if that's what Chanyeol told them to do. That wasn't how Sehun led them, and he was damn sure going to remind them of that.

Another small thought niggled at the back of his mind. Had they done that to him? Did they even bother to search for Sehun when we went missing, or did they just write him off like they were willing to do to Chanyeol?

Sehun pushes the thought aside as he enters the giant warehouse. He wildly looks around for a sign of anyone, but there's nothing. The building is almost eerily quiet, and Sehun knew this would end badly. He knew the warehouse, which held all different types of guns, usually had a minimum of 20 people loitering around. The fact that there was no one... it wasn't right.

Movement toward the back of the building caught his attention, and he took off toward it at full speed. He made it to the back of the building in less than 30 seconds, but when he rounded the same corner he saw the man go around, there was nothing, literally nothing, not even a door.

Sehun turns around, thinking there was a small chance he missed something and meets the end of a Glock. He looks past the barrel of the gun pointed directly in his face to meet the eyes of a Baem member he didn't recognize. Mentally, he let out a multitude of curse words, but physically, he kept his face completely blank.

"I don't know if I should say 'welcome home' or if I should shoot you for trespassing." The man smugly says.

Much to his disappointment, Sehun gives him nothing. No words or facial movements, just a blank stare while he waits to see what the man's next move will be. Once the man realizes this, he roughly grabs Sehun by his jacket and pushes him in front of him, down toward a short hallway. Sehun only makes it to the second door on the left before he's shoved into the room by the man behind him.

This was it. They were finally going to kill him. He couldn't decide if it was almost more cruel that he was given the chance to see the people he loved one last time or not. Would it be easier for them to let him go now that they got to see him and reunite, or would it hurt more?

However, Sehun was in for the shock of his life when he scans the room and sees his two closest allies kneeling on the ground while being tied up with guns pointed toward their heads.

His head shoots up, and he counts six other Baem members in the room, including the one who brought him here at gunpoint before his eyes fall back down to Chanyeol and Jaesuk.

If the other two men were free, there was a chance that the three of them could easily take on the other six men, but just Sehun himself? No way. There was also no way he'd get the chance to free his two friends from the chains that were attached to their hands and feet.

There was only one thing Sehun could do, and that was stall the Baem long enough for his unit to get to them.

He looks between Chanyeol and Jaesuk. One knowing exactly who the other was, while the other didn't have a clue. Chanyeol didn't know who Jaesuk was. He didn't know he was the one who protected him and guided him while his memory was gone, or that Jae was part of the reason this entire operation was possible. All he knew was there was some man tied up next to him, but Jae knew exactly who Chanyeol was. He knew how important his cousin was to him.

Jaesuk had clearly been beaten during or after his capture and Sehun was surprised and suspicious, yet very happy the man was still alive. Although... Sehun had to wonder why the Baem kept him alive or what their plan was.

The two men, though tied up, looked very pissed off that Sehun was in front of them, and not far away like he should've been. Sehun ignores them and looks around the room for whoever was in charge. That's when his eyes land on Minho. The man who had lied to him from the first moment he met him.

"Oh Sehun... I'm sad to see us in this situation."

"I'm sure you are," Sehun replies drily, causing a smirk to grow on Minho's face.

Sehun cautiously watches while Minho walks behind Chanyeol and Jaesuk's tied up bodies and spews more bullshit. "So, when did you get your memories back?"

"Does it really matter? It turns out I was able to help EXO even when I didn't have my memory."

Sehun really would give almost anything to wipe that smirk off of Minho's face, but his words just cause Minho to step towards Jaesuk and kick him swiftly in the ribs. Jae grunts in pain but remains in his kneeling position.

"Right. I'm sure this one provided enough of that information to you also."

"Jaesuk had nothing to do with it." Sehun defensively says, knowing it was futile but still trying to cover for him.

Chanyeol looks between Sehun and the man next to him in realization. It was clear once Sehun said his name, Chanyeol figured out that this was the Baem member Sehun had been working with.

When Minho didn't bother to respond to Sehun, he got a little worried. He knew he had to keep the Baem members talking if he wanted to give his unit enough time to get in here and offer some help.

"What do you even want, Minho?"

Minho glances over at Sehun in surprise. "What do I want? Well, I want your cousin here to die because he's my enemy, I want to torture Jaesuk for his betrayal, and I want to make you sit there and watch it all. However, I don't have the time for that, considering EXO is making a move on us as we speak, so I'm going to force you to choose instead."

An uneasy feeling creeps up Sehun's spine as he considers Minho's words. "Choose what?"

A cruel smirk grows on Minho's face as he walks back and forth behind Chanyeol and Jaesuk. "Which one of these two walks out of here alive. Your cousin or your ally?"

"And why would I do that?" Sehun tries to ask in a calm voice.

There was no fucking way he was going to choose who was going to live or die between Chanyeol and Jaesuk. He would never be able to go on with his life, supposing he was able to make it out of this room alive, knowing he saved one and not the other.

Minho shrugs like the answer was obvious. "Because if you don't, I'll kill them both."

"Why do you think I'm stupid enough to not know you're just going to kill them both anyway before coming after me?"

"See... if you choose, I'll let the other one go. Now, if he gets away fast enough will be up to him," he says with a smile. "I really only want you and Jaesuk, and I'm guessing you'll choose to free your cousin. This way, it's much more fun for me to watch Jaesuk realize you don't give a shit about him, and he betrayed us for nothing. On the other hand, the small chance you choose Jaesuk over Chanyeol is too delicious to pass up."

"I'm not choosing." Sehun refuses, avoiding the eyes of the two men kneeling on the floor. A minimum of three minutes had to have passed by now. He only had to stall for a tiny bit longer.

Minho lazily points a finger toward him. "See, if you don't choose, I'm killing all three of you right here, right now. Come on, Sehun! At least give one of them hope that they'll survive!"

To make his point clear, two Baem members step up on each side of Chanyeol and Jaesuk and point the barrels of their guns at their heads. Sehun heard movement from behind him and knew another member was pointing one at his as well.

He finally makes eye contact with his two allies again and finds rage simmering in their eyes, but... there's also a deadly calmness in them, like both men were prepared for whatever Sehun decided to do. It was almost unnerving.

"Come on, Sehun... Don't make me actually start to countdown." Minho taunts.

Sehun looks at him with an expression of pure hatred. If he makes it out of this alive, he's going to redefine what the word "torture" means, and he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Minho lets out a sigh. "Fine. We can do it this way too."

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

Tagging: @knjkitten @kpopserene @multifandombxxch @tashaxvamp @kpop---scenarios @bhyunni @chanyeolismybaby @flaming-laboob @taetaeeyong @lilbitoflyssa @misstressporkchoppp @hoseok-wang @spiltkpop @isha454 @depuis2mille @marovekian1 @ladylynae @abby8451 @lynniev @insta1010 @sawadabegum @avxngxrrogxrs @equesasprokishi @imstuckinafictionaluniverse @layisanangel @mongryong-the-corgi @overthelamebowz @lizbether01 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @nothingbutadeadesceane @kim-ji-hyeons-world @suhappysuho @futuremrspcy @lovebuginlove @skylions-den @precious-seungwooya @softysuho @kuppyjiminie @blushinyouth @bat-shark-repellant @vickylamore @heartshapedenchiladas @cardtak @tanithrea @wooya1224 @multifanstuff @hyuniebaby @sehunnies-hunnie96 @endzii23 @kkpoptrashhh @mayzerofour @ries-universe

147 notes · View notes

aubreyprc · 3 years

Text

In My Veins 5: Final

part one part two part three part four

But you catch a glimpse of sunlight.

Shinin', down on your face.

Hotch inhales a breath as he prepares himself to hear whatever the doctor is about to tell him, his heart hammering in his chest. He grips a hand over the necklace in his palm, praying for a miracle.

The doctor rubs a hand over his face and laughs and the two men frowns in confusion.

“She’s awake.” The doctor tells them, a large smile on his face.

Hotch’s eyes go wide as he releases a breath, almost falling to the floor before catching himself, relief flooding his whole body.

“She started breathing on her own, which in turn made the ventilator set off, which is what the beeping was.” He explains to Reid, who’s still staring in shock at the doctor.

“She’s okay?” Reid whispers, a smile on his face.

“She’s awake.” He corrects, and the two men look at him for an explanation. “She was in a coma.. on a ventilator for almost eleven days. She’s confused, tired.. it’s normal.” He tells them.

“Is there..” Hotch starts, before clearing his throat and standing straighter. “Is there brain damage?” He asks.

“So far, not that I can see.” He smiles, “A neurologist is on their way down now, they’ll be able to tell us for sure. She may need to go for a CT.” The doctor tells them, the Agents nod, trying to process the unexpected, but prayed for news.

“For now… she’s awake. She’s aware of her surroundings even though she has no memory of the crash, which is also pretty normal in these situations. Probably for the best in most cases.” He informs them,

“Can I- we see her?” Hotch asks, the doctor sighs.

“I’m going to ask the neurologist to see her before you, simply because I want to be able to prepare you for the outcome of brain damage, instead of you seeing in without warning. But it shouldn’t be long. Make some calls, I know there’s a group of you. I’ve seen about eight different people a day.” He jokes, “She’s lucky to have you all.”

“We’re the lucky ones.” Reid says with a smile, before nodding and grabbing his phone. “I’ll call Morgan and JJ..” He says.

“I’ll call Dave and Garcia.” Hotch nods, turning to look at a doctor who appears in front of them.

“This is Doctor James. He’s the resident neurologist.”

“I hear we have a miracle.” He smiles, shaking the hands with Hotch and smiling back at Reid, dropping his hand with a laugh as the man just holds a hand up in a wave.

“We do.” The other Doctor smiles, “She’s in 819.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can. I imagine you’re all eager to see her.”

Hotch and Reid smile at the man before he heads into the room, the other behind him, and they make the calls.

Garcia screams down the phone with joy and rushes out three sentences unintelligibly before screaming again, announcing she’ll be right there and hangs up.

Hotch can’t help but laugh, his heart full of just.. relief… love… joy…

Dave shouts a few words in Italian, laughing happily. Another few happy words in his mother tongue and he’s almost in his car, shouting he’ll be there shortly and the phone call ends.

Morgan doesn’t believe it. Shocked. Unable to react for a few moments before laughing, almost crying in pure joy as he grabs his keys and runs to his car, saying he’s on his way.

JJ just cries. At first Will thinks the worst has happened as he drops the cup he was holding and runs to his girlfriend, his face full of worry before he sees her happy smile. He lets out a sigh of relief and smiles back. She tells him she’s awake and then announces to Reid that she can’t believe it, she’s on her way. Running into Will’s arms and laughing happily he picks her off the ground as she squeals, he then taps her back and tells her to go, JJ runs out the door with a happy laugh.

The team arrive at the hospital in the space of twenty minutes. The first to arrive is Dave, who broke a few laws to get there in quick time, running to his family with a large smile, he wraps them both in his arms.

“It’s a miracle.” He tells them, kissing their heads.

“The neurologist is just in there now.” Hotch tells him as he removes himself from the hug, Dave nods and smiles.

“It’s all okay.” Dave smiles, “She’s awake. She’s back with us. Nothing else matters. Everything else we can deal with.”

Hotch nods with a smile, no time to reply before Garcia is running in, her hair half up on one side and a sleep mask still on her head, her coat half on as she speeds towards them, obviously overwhelmed with joy.

“Where is she!” She shouts with a smile, “Where is my girl?”

“She’s just with the neurologist. We’ll see her soon.” Dave smiles at the woman, who hugs him.

Garcia smiles brightly at Hotch before standing next to Reid, who gently puts her in her jacket and takes of the sleep mask, passing it to her as she laughs.

“I just… came here.” She explains, no time for anymore of an explanation as Morgan runs towards them.

“She’s awake?” He asks, Hotch nods.

He laughs and runs a hand over his face before pulling Reid into his arms.

JJ is next, running in and straight into Garcia’s open arms.

“Our girls back, JJ.” She smiles and JJ laughs.

“I-“ She tries but there are no words to describe her joy.

The neurologist exits the room ten minutes later and jumps at the arrival of a group.

“He wasn’t joking when he said she had an army.” He smiles, the team smiles at him and waits.

“I’m confident in saying there is no brain damage. Not that I noticed in my assessment.” He tells them and the entire team release a breath they’ve been holding for almost two weeks. “Of course I will need to take her for a CT, but I will let you see her before I take her up.” He says, before looking at them all and smiling sadly. “I don’t want to be the kill joy but… I would say for now, maybe one person at a time?” He suggests, “Coma patients can get very overwhelmed very quickly. Agent Prentiss is still on a lot of medication and is still very drowsy.”

“Of course.” Garcia nods, “One at a time. We can do one at a time.”

“Okay.” The doctor smiles, “I’ll be back down in about an hour to take her to CT and her doctor will be back later to discuss next steps.”

“Thank you.” They all say with a smile before he steps away.

“Go.” Dave tells Hotch, pushing him forward.

“No- You sh-”

“Will you just go in and give her a kiss?” Garcia laughs, pushing the man towards the door and he laughs.

“Thanks.” He says shyly, bowing his head and turning away, taking a breath before opening the door.

He shuts the door behind him and leans against it, exhaling shakily. He smiles when he sees her looking at him, her signature smirk on her face.

“Hey Hotchner,” She plays, tilting her head. He smiles at the sound of her voice. God he’s missed it. “Are you going to come here or have you and the door started a serious relationship while I was gone?”

Hotch laughs and steps towards her, grabbing her hand and sitting on the bed, using his other hand to cup her face, a tear falling down his.

She lifts the hand wrapped in his to wipe it and her heart flutters as he leans into it, his fingers entwined with hers.

“Don't cry.” She whispers, a lump in her throat. “Hey,” She says, when he looks at her she smiles. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay.” He whispers, laughing. “You scared us..” He tells her.

“Sorry.” She whispers, stroking his cheek. “Aaron.” She says and he looks at her. “Kiss me then.” She smiles and he laughs before kissing her and when he does his head finally stopped spinning. There was no longer any panic rooted in his bones, no more permanent ache in his chest at the thought of losing her. He was able to relax and just be there with her. Just like he always should be. As they separate they smile, his finger strokes her cheek as he kisses her again.

He pulls her necklace from his blazer pocket and dangles it in front of her.

“I’ve been holding onto this for you.” He tells her, the smile on her face as she takes it from him enough to warm his heart.

“Thank you.” She whispers, “It’s. It’s all I left of my Dad..” She explains sadly. “Thank you.” She repeats again and he smiles, placing a kiss on her hand.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He whispers, running a hand through her hair and stroking her cheek with his thumb, his joy evident on his face as he beams at her.

“Me too.” She says back, accepting another kiss from him. “No more near deaths for either of us, okay?” She jokes, his laugh makes her smile as he agrees.

JJ goes in next, rushing to her best friend's side and cupping her face.

“If you ever do this to me again I swear I’ll kill you myself.” JJ jokes and Emily smirks, nodding.

“Noted.” She says, and JJ hugs her gently.

“I missed you.”

“I’m missable..” Emily jokes and JJ laughs and kisses her head.

“Welcome back.” She says to the brunette and Emily smiles. “I see you have your necklace back.” She points and Emily chuckles, gracing her finger over it as it lays across her neck. “Hotch has held onto that for dear life over the last week..” JJ explains and Emily looks at her with a sad smile before the blonde changes the subject. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about how Morgan and Reid tried to be hero’s..” JJ smirks and Emily’s lips curl into a smile.

Garcia goes next and is all loud screams from the moment she stands.

“Garcia.” Dave says, his tone sounding like a warning, the blonde turns to him before opening the door, “Quiet.. relaxed.. take a deep breath.” He tells her and the woman nods, inhaling before opening the door.

“Protective much?” JJ teases and Dave shrugs.

“She’s his favourite..” Morgan jokes. Dave smiles and doesn’t deny it. Hotch catches his eye and raises a brow as he tries to get hold of Jessica.

“She’s definitely his favourite,” Hotch tells them, “Should have heard the lecture I got ten months ago.”

“I stand by every word.” Dave tells him, pointing a finger in his direction, Hotch chuckles before Jessica finally answers the phone.

Garcia runs to her friend and stops, taking a breath, holding in her joy and Emily just laughs.

“What are you doing?” Emily questions.

“Rossi told me I had to be calm and relaxed. He’s worried about overwhelming you.. because the doctor said too much can overwhelm you and I don’t want to-”

“Pen..” Emily stops her and the blonde looks at her.

“Come here.” Emily says, and she smiles and wraps herself gently in her friends arms.

“You could never overwhelm me.” Emily whispers, “Ever.”

Garcia smiles, tears rolling down her face as she pulls away.

“I’ve missed you my very special friend.” She whispers and Emily laughs.

“I missed you too, silly girl.”

Garcia smiles brightly and kisses her hand. ”Never do this to me again.” She whispers into Emily’s dark hair.

“I’ll try not to.” She jokes and Garcia pulls away, glaring playfully at her friend, “You can’t get rid of me this easily, Pen. You know that.”

“I know,” She replies, taking her hand in her own as she sits down on the bed, “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Are you tired? Shall I tell the others to wait for awhile-”

“Garcia..” Emily stops her with a smile, “I’m okay.”

Penelope nods and squeezes her hand, “I missed you.”

At Emily’s request, Reid and Morgan go in together and as soon as he sees her, Morgan just exhales, closing his eyes.

“Hey boys,” She smiles, they head towards her and Reid hugs her while Morgan just looks at her, a smile on his face while he takes her hand.

“I missed you.” Reid mutters and Emily runs a hand down his back.

“I missed you too.” She tells him.

“You’re okay?” He whispers, pulling away and she smiles, running a hand over his cheek.

“I’m okay.” She tells him.

“You scared us.” Morgan smiles, “Idiot.”

“Sorry.” She smirks, “I needed a few days off work.”

The men laugh and she smiles.

“I just. I wanted to thank you.. for everything.” She smiles. “JJ and Hotch told me you tried to-” She stops, they nod.

“You’re welcome.” Morgan smiles, wrapping his hand in hers. “It was heavy.” He complains and she laughs.

“How are you?” She asks Reid, “I heard about you needing surgery..”

“I’m okay.” Reid tells her, “I’ve been more worried about you.”

“We all have.” Morgan tells her, “You gave us quite the scare, Princess.” He says and Emily looks at them with sad eyes, “But you’re back now and that’s all that matters.” He smiles, placing a kiss on her hand.

Dave is last. As soon as he’s in the room he’s at her side in a second, both hands on the side of her face as he kisses her head.

“Welcome back, Bella.” He mutters and she chuckles.

“I hear you’re warning people not to overwhelm me.” She laughs, he sits on the chair and smiles.

“You’re my favourite,” He shrugs, patting her hand as he holds it, “What can I say?” He smirks and she laughs, leaning her head back on the pillow as her head starts to ache.

“You okay?” He asks, sitting up and placing a flat hand on her head and she chuckles.

“I’m okay.” She says softly, “Tired.” She mutters. He smiles and runs a hand down her cheek tenderly.

“Rest.” He tells her. “I think you’ll be going to CT soon.”

Emily groans in response and he laughs.

“Never do this to me again.” He smirks, a finger pointed at her, “Twice is enough for one lifetime.”

“Sorry..” She smiles, taking his hand and squeezing it. She yawns again and he gently kisses her hand.

“You’ve got a long road ahead of you,” He tells her, “But we’re here.”

“I know.” She says, her eyes flutter closed as she falls asleep and he smiles, placing a soft kiss on her head before standing, glancing back once more at the sight of her breathing on her own and he can’t help but thank whoever may be listening for this miracle.

Two hours and a CT scan later and the team are scattered around the room as they chat to her. Emily sick of seeing them one by one, telling her doctors she was fine and that they're allowed to break the rules, they're the FBI.

JJ and Garcia are sat on two chairs on the left side of her, Hotch on a chair on the opposite side. Neither a fan of PDA but unable to not have some part of him touching her, his hand is rested just next to hers, their little fingers gently wrapped around each other’s under the blanket.

Morgan is sat on a chair the end of the bed, his legs rested on it as he leans back, a smirk on his face. Spencer is stood, as always, bouncing around the room as he laughs at their conversation and Dave is just watching, sat in a corner with a smile on his face as his family is whole once again.

It isn’t long until Emily starts to shut down once again and the team are ushered from the room by the nurse. They put Emily on an IV and tell her to take it easy. That her body is still recovering. Hotch heads back into the room once the nurse exists, before the rest of the team sneak back in, saying their goodnights to her as they head out. Aaron remains sat on the chair as Dave, the last one to leave, of course, gives her another look before heading out of the door. He takes her hand in his and kisses it, resting his elbows on the bed as he looks at her with so much love in his eyes that it makes her heart hammer in her chest, setting of the machine.

“What’s wrong?” He asks nervously as the fast beeping echo's around the room but Emily just shakes her head.

“Nothing,” She whispers, a tear falling down her face. Hotch stands before settling on the bed, lowering her down onto the pillow as he runs a hand over her cheek, wiping her tear gently.

“Get some rest,” He tells her, “I’ll be right here.” He whispers with a smile.

“Go,” Emily tells Aaron two hours later as he procrastinates leaving the room. “I’ll be here tomorrow.” She jokes and he laughs.

“I know, I just-”

“Go home, Aaron.” She says, “Sleep… go and see your son.”

“He’ll be happy to hear you’re awake.” He tells her, “You should have seen him when he was here. He read to you.” Pride beams off his face as he talks about Jack.

“He’s an angel.” Emily smiles, “How has he been?”

“I’ll bring him tomorrow.” He tells her and she nods. “He’s been coping well.”

“Good.” She says, “Now go home.” She tells him, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on her lips before standing with a sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods, before kissing her again, which makes her laugh.

It’s her laugh that he remembers as he travels home that night.

Arriving home, he’s shocked to find Jack up and reading on the couch, Jessica tracing a pattern in his hair as he reads. As he shuts the door they both turn and Jessica sends him a huge smile and stands, hopping Jack onto the floor who quickly runs into his dad’s arms.

“Hi Daddy!” Jack smiles, wrapping his arms around his father once he’s in his arms.

“Hey bud,” He smiles, “I have something to tell you.” He says, placing the boy back on the ground and kneeling down to his level.

“Is Emmy okay?” He asks, worry in his face and voice and Aaron nods.

“She’s okay.” He tells Jack, “She’s awake..”

“She is?” Jack asks and his face lights up, his smile large.

“Yeah, and if you want we can go and see her tomorrow.” Aaron tells him, and Jack cheers.

“Yes!” He yells, “Can we not go now?”

Aaron laughs. “Not tonight buddy. It’s late.”

“But tomorrow.” He says and Aaron nods.

“Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow comes quicker than Aaron expects when it’s barley seven and Jack is jumping on his bed.

“Daddy! Daddy!” He shouts, before dropping to his knees and shaking his shoulder.

“Hmm?” Hotch mutters, rolling over and squinting his eyes as he wakes.

“We have to go!” He shouts, “Come on, Daddy!” He groans. “I wanna see Emmy!”

Aaron chuckles and grabs him, pulling him into his chest and the boy laughs, resting his head on his dad.

“It’s a bit early yet, buddy.” He says, kissing the boys head.

“Oh.” He says sadly. Hotch smiles and pats his back.

“How about we get some breakfast and then we can go?”

“Okay!” He shouts, sitting up and running from the bedroom to the kitchen.

Once they’re at the hospital, Jack runs in the room with a shout of her name and she laughs. He pushes himself up on the bed and wraps his arms around her, his head in her chest and he sighs in content as her arms wrap around him.

“I missed you.” He tells her, “You slept for really long.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She says softly, winking as Aaron walks into the room with a smirk and a sorry on his lips.

“It’s okay.” Jack says to her, moving himself closer to her and closing his eyes.

She kisses his head and he smiles.

“Thank you for not going away. I knew you would come back. Just like you did last time..” He whispers, taking a lock of her hair into his hands as he lays on her. “Are you okay now?” He asks.

“I’m getting there.” She tells him, running a hand across his back comfortingly, “Thank you for reading to me..” She says and he looks at her with a huge smile.

“You’re welcome.” He tells her, “When are you coming home?”

“Soon.” She smiles, he nods in acceptance and rests his head on her chest once again, relaxing into her safe and comforting hold.

The three talk for over an hour before a doctor comes in with a sad smile and an apology on his lips.

Jack hugs her once more.

“See you tomorrow?” He asks as Jessica walks in, his arms tighten around her as though he believes if he lets go she could leave again.

“I’ll see you really soon.” She tells him. He looks at her with wide eyes before accepting her words and heading toward Jessica, who sends Emily a smile.

Once they’re out of the room the doctor heads back in.

“Hello.” She says, “I’m Doctor Kay.” She smiles. “I’m a physical therapist.” She tells them, before clapping her hands together. “Let’s get you back to one hundred percent shall we?”

Day one of her recovery is tough, having had surgery on her leg just over a week ago but barely any movement in it, her leg is stiff and painful. She winces as soon as she stands her weight on it, lifting it off the ground and leaning more weight against Aaron as she should. He holds her up with no protest, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“I know it hurts.” Doctor Kay tells her, standing closely in front of her, “But the more you use it the more it will gain back its strength. Right now your leg doesn’t have the strength it should, but the more weight you put on your other one the more trouble you’ll cause it.” She explains and smiles at Emily, “Just gently place it back on the ground and try and stand straight for me. Equal weight on both sides.”

Emily places her foot back down and bites her lip harshly as she does, almost drawing blood. The arm over Aaron’s shoulder as he holds her up falls as she places equal weight on both legs. She winces, grabbing his suit, pressing her hands into it forcefully as though she could transfer the pain.

“Okay,” Doctor Kay says, “Equal weight on both sides..” She asks and Emily nods, closing her eyes as shooting pains are sent up her leg. “Scale of one to ten how much pain is this causing you?”

“I don’t know.” She says, her voice shaky and obviously trying to hide how much it was hurting her, “Like a seven.. maybe an eight.”

“Okay.” The doctor nods, “Okay, Agent Hotchner.. I’m going to ask you to take a step back. I need to see if she’s able to stand on her own.” She tells him and he looks to her and then to Emily. “I just need to know where we’re staring at so we can work at our best.”

Aaron reluctantly moves his arm from around her waist, she’s smiling as best she can at him as he does, nodding her head that it’s okay. Her hand falls slowly from his back as Aaron steps away. Pain is soon sent shooting up and down her leg and she can’t hold her own weight up, almost hitting the ground, but Aaron’s arm is back around her, keeping her upright and standing her up.

“Okay.” Doctor Kay smiles, “This was good!” She smiles and Emily snorts, leaning some of her weight onto Aaron as she lifts her leg of the ground before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Good?” She laughs and the woman nods.

“Agent Pre-“

“Emily.” She corrects and the woman smiles.

“Emily.. you’ve had surgery on your leg.. and then were unable to properly set it for almost two weeks. It will take awhile for you to be at full mobility again.. but.. I’m positive that we can get you back there and back into whatever it is that you do in the FBI in no time.” She teases and Emily laughs.

“Okay.” She nods and the woman shakes their hands.

“I’ll be back later and we will try again. Twice a day for as long as you need. As soon as you’re able to do the basics like walk, stand... then we will think about releasing you but working yourself back to where you were will take time. They’ll be no chasing criminals for awhile.”

On Day Three she’s advised to take walks around the hospital every few hours. The first to walk with her is Aaron, her hand wrapped around his as they do. Most of her weight is leaned against the cane she hates but has to use, her legs not fully at the strength to hold all of her weight but she’s getting there.

“Jack wants to come again tomorrow.” Aaron tells her with a smile, Emily smiles and nods.

“I’d like that.” She says, he kisses her hand as they walk. She stops and winces slightly after awhile, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks, panic in his eyes, she nods.

“Yeah..” She breathes, “Just a little sore.”

“Shall we head back?”

Emily shakes her head and pierces her lips. “No,” She says, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She smiles and they carry on their walk around the ICU ward.

Later that day it was Dave’s turn. Her arm linked through his as they walked slowly around, talking about everything and anything.

“You didn’t have to come for this, you know.” She smiles, “There are plenty of nurses for this reason.”

“Nonsense.” He says, shaking his head, “I’ve had to do eleven days without you and our conversations, you think I’m going to give it up now?” He teases, and she smiles, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I missed you too.” She tells him and he chuckles, kissing her head.

It’s Day Six that she’s discharged with a two hour physical therapy session every week for the next month.

“I look forward to working with you, Emily.” Doctor Kay says as she smiles at her.

“Me too.” Emily says.

“Remember to take things slow for the next few weeks, there will still be some pain for a while.”

“I know.” Emily replies, “Ill see you on Monday.”

“I’ll see you on Monday, we will work on upper leg strength.”

Emily smiles as the woman walks out of the room and when the door shuts Emily sighs, folding herself into Aarons arms, he chuckles as he wraps them around her.

“She’s so.. perky.” She mutters.

“She’s nice.” Aaron tells her and Emily just hums in response. “Come on,” He says, tapping her backside before unwrapping himself from her and taking her hand, “Jack has a surprise for you at home.”

“He does?” She smiles, “How adorable.”

“He’s excited.” Hotch tells her and she smiles, looking to the floor as they walk out of the room at a slow pace while her legs get used to normal use.

“You’ve come far these last few days. A week ago you couldn’t even stand and now..” He says, a proud smile beaming off him, “You’ll be back to one hundred percent before you know it.”

“I hope so.” She says, “I hate this.” She mutters as a slight pain shoots up her thigh at the pressure of it on the ground.

“I know.” He says, kissing her head as they walk towards his car, “I wish there was something I could do.” He tells her as they stop at the car and she turns to face him, placing a soft hand on his cheek.

“You’re doing it.” She smiles, before placing a kiss on his lips, “I love you.” She whispers and he smiles into their kiss.

“I love you too.”

Jack cheers and jumps off the couch when Aaron opens the front door.

“Welcome home!” Jack shouts, running to Emily but stopping in front of her with a halt when he remembers about his dad telling him to be careful. That she’s still very sore.

“I made you this.” He smiles, handing her a handmade card. There’s a picture of three stick people on it and some trees.

“It’s us a few weeks ago at the park...maybe when you’re better we can go again.” He tells her, she smiles, holding back her tears and runs a hand through his hair.

“I love it, thank you.” She smiles.

“I’m glad you’re back.” He says to her, grabbing her hand and slowly wrapping his arms around her ‘good’ leg.

“Me too, buddy.” She says, bending down to kiss him on the head.

“Can we make dinner now?” He asks his father who’s looking at the two of them with adoration.

“Of course. Come on.” He says and his son runs towards the kitchen.

He holds his hand out for Emily to take and she laughs and she grabs it, folding herself into him once again as they walk to the kitchen.

An hour later and Aaron comes back into the kitchen after changing out of his suit, stopping and smiling at the sight in front of him.

Emily is standing stirring the sauce, smiling at Jack as he talks to her with a grin on his face, his legs swinging as he sits on the counter. His little boy erupts in laughter when Emily flicks sauce at him.

The sight makes him smile and he knows then what he has to do, what he’s been thinking of doing for a while.

“What’s going on there then?” He announces himself and Jack turns with a grin as Emily smiles, shaking her head.

“Nothing.” She tells him, “Just stirring the sauce.”

“Mhmm.” He hums, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

“Drink your wine.” She tells him with a grin, and he places a kiss on her cheek as his arm warps around her, his chest against her back before grabbing the glass.

Later that night, they’re stood in the kitchen after cleaning up when he grabs her hand gently and pulls her to him. Her hands land on his chest as she smiles.

“Hey.” She says, before kissing him. He kisses back. Pulling away, he moves her hair from her shoulders, running a finger down her spine. She looks at him suspiciously before squinting, “What?” She asks.

“Marry me.” He tells her, resting his arm flat on her back, his other in her hand.

“What?” She asks, her mouth agape in a shocked grin.

“When you’re ready, when you’ve finished with physical therapy and-“ He stops, smiling at her, “I thought I lost you, Emily. Again.” He says to her, pain clear in his voice, “If this last year has taught us anything it’s that life is unpredictable and that we could lose each other at any moment. I want to marry you. I want to spend the life of my life with you.” He says, before pulling a velvet box out of the draw he’s been avoiding for the last week and a half and takes the ring from it. “Emily Prentiss... Marry me?” He smiles, tears welling in his eyes.

Emily is silent, staring at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression, before laughing and pulling him into her, crashing her lips onto his own.

“Yes.” She says as she pulls away, “Of course I’ll marry you.. you big softie.” She laughs, before kissing him again.

They smile against each other’s lips before laughing. He wraps her in his arms as she laughs happily. He grabs her left hand and slides the ring onto her finger, she stares at it with a beaming smile before looking back at him, cupping his face and kissing him. She laughs happily once his lips leave hers and wraps her arms around his neck, he can feel her smile.

“Welcome home.” He whispers into her ear and she smiles harder into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, fiancé.” She whispers and presses a kiss into his neck before laughing happily once again.

Jacks run in the room then and crashes into her leg, she winces in response and the young boy goes pale.

“I’m sorry!” He shouts, tears welling in his eyes. Emily turns from Aarons hold and looks down at Jack, smiling and shaking her head.

“It’s okay.” She tells him, running a hand through his fastly growing hair, “You just scared me, that’s all.”

“Not hurt?” He questions, his voice quiet and soft.

“No, baby,” She says gently, leaning down to pick him up and balance him on her hips. He’s small for his age and it’s in moments like these that Hotch embraces the petiteness he gets from his mother. He's sure he’ll grow to be taller than him in no time and he will enjoy the small little boy for as long as he can. “You didn’t hurt me.”

The six year old relaxes and rests his head on her shoulder, looking at his father with a smile. Aaron pulls the two of them into him and presses a kiss on Emily’s temple as her shoulder rests on his chest, he bops his sons nose and smiles when he crinkles his face.

Yeah, Aaron thinks, He totally wants this forever.

They decide against telling their friends until they knew when they’d be able to get married, not wanting to rush into it before Emily had recovered completely.

“I want to walk down the aisle, Aaron. Not limp.” She’d told him when he’d asked when she wanted to get married. “Can’t we just... be, for awhile?

“Absolutely.” He’d replied, pulling her into him as he sat on the bed, she twisted to sit on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’d be happy to sit like this forever.” He tells her with a smile and she laughs, pressing a kiss on his lips as runs a hand under her shirt and traces a finger down her spine.

Two weeks into her physical therapy, she was able to walk at a normal pace with no pain, able to stand on equal weight on both legs and was on her way to being back at almost full function.

“You’ve come far in these two weeks, Emily. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, well.. I like to excel at things.” She jokes and the doctor laughs.

“Okay, one more round of this and then we will call it for today.” The doctor tells her, “I am, however, comfortable enough with your improvements to sign you off to going back to work.”

“Really?” Emily asks, shocked.

“As long as you promise to take it easy, you’re not at the level you were at before the accident. Any strain or over work on your leg could set us back weeks.. maybe months.”

“I’ll take it easy.” Emily says, smiling when she passes her the doctors note.

“One more round. Go.” The doctor says.

“You’re sure you’re ready?” Hotch asks her later that night while they’re laying in bed.

“Yeah.. I mean, I can profile and rest my leg at the same time.” She jokes, “I’m not expecting myself to be able to be back on the field. Not completely.”

“Good. Because I wasn’t going to let you.” He grins, before placing a kiss on her lips.

“When shall we tell the team about this?” She says, and holds up her left hand, the diamond ring sparkling as it catches the moon's reflection in the window.

“Probably before you start back at work.” He tells her.

Probably.” She agrees with a laugh, before curling her body into Aaron’s.

Aaron is asleep for maybe three hours when the patter of small bare feet running across the floor wakes him. He turns to find Emily still peacefully sleeping next to him, hair spread over her face as her head tilts to the left. He looks over to the door to listen as he remembers the sound of his son’s feet running on the floor waking him. The door opens slowly and Aaron doesn't announce that he’s awake, he just watches in the dark as he son slowly creeps into the room.

“Jack?” Hotch says and the boy turns quickly, “What are you doing?” He whispers.

“I had a bad dream.” He tells his dad, walking over slowly as Hotch pats the bed.

“Are you okay?” He asks him and Jack looks at him.

“Emmy died..” He says quietly and when Jack reaches him he notices the tears down his son’s face and his heart breaks.

“Emily’s okay.” Hotch tells him, “See.” He points, bringing the boy into his arms.

“Can I sleep in here?” He asks softly and Hotch sighs and kisses his head.

“Just for tonight, okay?” Hotch says, placing the boy in the middle of the bed, the dip in the mattress causes Emily to wake and as she squints her eyes open, she smiles at the young boy staring at her.

“Hi.” He says, “I had a bad dream.”

“You did?” She asks, running a hand over his forehead as he lays down, “Are you okay?”

The six year old nods and pushes himself further into the bed before sighing and closing his eyes and, like always, he’s out instantly.

Emily looks over at Aaron as he lays back down and he shakes his head.

“It’s going to be fine.” She says to him, grabbing his had as he throws it gently over his son to reach her.

“Yeah..” He sighs, rubbing his thumb over her fingers.

It was fine, Jack didn’t have a nightmare like that again.

They tell the team that weekend when they all meet at the park for Jack’s soccer game.

The only thing either of them can remember about it is Garcia’s screams that turned to cries, before pulling Emily into her arms with talks about how she’s going to help her find the perfect dress, before screaming again. Dave wrapping his arms around the both of them before demanding he host and officiate the wedding.

Everything else turns into a massive blur after JJ sends Will off to go get some champagne.

Four weeks after Emily wakes from the coma she is officially back at a level everyone is comfortable with enough to send her on her way.

“Remember. Keep working on your physical therapy, don’t over do it straight away. Start small and work your way up to where you were. You can’t expect to be exactly where you were before the accident straight away. This will take time.”

“I know.” Emily smiles, “Thank you.. for everything.”

“You’re more than welcome. It’s been a pleasure to get to know you, Agent Prentiss. You’ll be back to your full self in no time and it will be like it never happened..”

“I look forward to that.” She smiles, before shaking the Doctors hand. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go. Get married.” Doctor Kay says and Emily laughs.

“I will.” She smiles, before leaving the ward.

“Don’t over do it!” The doctor shouts with a laugh and Emily turns, laughing.

“I’m getting married,” She shouts back, “What could I possibly over do?” She jokes and both women laugh as she leaves the doors.

That night, the team are standing in Dave’s backyard, chairs set out, bright lights hung around the place, soft music playing in the background as Hotch, Jack, Reid and Morgan stand at the front on one side and JJ and Garcia stand at the other. Emily is walked down the aisle by Dave, a soft smile on their faces as he whispers something to her.

Their vows are simple and sweet and as Jack passes each of them the rings, his little giggle echoes throughout the garden, making everyone smile.

“You may now kiss the bride.” Dave announces and everyone cheers.

Just one month ago, they didn’t know if they’d ever be a team again and now here they stand, in Dave’s backyard once again, as they watch Emily and Aaron have their first kiss as husband and wife.

#hotchniss fic #in my veins

61 notes · View notes

haztory · 3 years

Text

𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝. (2)

-chapter two: the story of us; warnings for this chapter include a brief discussion and mentioning of sexual assault. it is not described in detail nor does it happen to anyone in this fic. i will not ever be using sexual assault as a plot device as i think that’s unnecessary. however, because it is prevalent in female culture, or at least the discussion of it is, it is briefly mentioned.

if this makes anyone uncomfortable, please skip over! i will not be offended at all!

-summary: His eyes are a sea of green that you can't seem to stop drowning in.

a/n: this chapter is a doozy yall, im so sorry. this is mainly to serve as complete exposition of reader and iwa, so it’s hella long. i had an original idea of how i wanted this to go and then i started writing and this happened. lmfao. thank you all for being patient and loving and your comments are so wonderful! i had midterms all last week and all i could think about was writing this! so thank you all and i hope you all enjoy! next chapter will be pure chaos and fun!

i was listening to “cloud 9″ by beach bunny for this chapter! so that might help you understand how i see reader and iwa <33

(w.c.: 8,662 words)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

You’re ten years old when you meet Iwaizumi Hajime for the first time.

He’s an inch shorter than you, skinny, hair set in an unorganized mess of spikes, and he smells of sweat. It’s the least enticing first impression you’ve ever encountered, wondering briefly if this is what all of Miyagi Prefecture has to offer.

Because if so, you’re not looking forward to it.

He’s blocking the entrance to the neighborhood park with his bike, back facing towards you and an arm stretched outward-pointing at something across the park. The same park that your mother has forced you to attend, kicking you out of your new home filled with moving boxes, a warm smile on her face and a simple request to “go have fun”.

A request that was starting to seem like more of a problem than you anticipated.

You’re halted in front of the gates to the area for a solid minute, the boy in front of you being less than aware of your presence as he continues to shout from across the park.

“Grab all of them, Oikawa!”

There’s another boy roughly the same age holding several items that look to be action figures close to his chest. His face is scrunched up and his shoulders slouched as he takes exaggerated sluggish steps while crossing the courtyard. He’s sweaty too, just like the boy in front of you.

“But there’s so many, Iwaaa. Can’t you help me?”

“You’re such a baby, Oikawa.”

The one named Oikawa is about to respond when he stops his movements altogether. He merely points his finger, eyes fixated on something behind his black-haired friend.

You realize a bit too late that he’s pointing at you.

The friend, Iwa as he was called, turns his head with a questioning hum, green eyes meeting yours. A sea of emerald.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice high in timber and flooded in awkwardness, raising his hand in a shy greeting, “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond in equal awkwardness, the kind that only a new kid can embody. Uneasiness has been settled into your bones ever since the move was announced, and now, as you stand before two physical embodiments of your displacement in this area, the feeling seems to sink even deeper into your stomach. “You’re blocking the entrance.”

“Huh? Oh! Sorry ‘bout that.” He begins a cumbersome shuffle of pushing the bike he was sitting on backward, small grunts escaping his mouth as he tries to make space for you to enter. It’s a slow process, considering he teeters from side to side and struggles to smoothly retreat from the space. Oikawa snickers in the background, some teasing words being aired that you are too far to hear, but they must be irking enough considering Iwa mutters a “shut up, idiot” in response.

The friendship is formidable, you don’t need to know them for long to see that. Envy and all its bitter acid coat your tongue.

“Are you the one that just moved in?” Oikawa speaks up.

You nod.

“How old are you? Are you going to Kitagawa Elementary? Have you already—”

Iwa interrupts the ferociously excited boy with a gentle scoff, “Calm down, Oikawa. Give her some air. Geez.”

“I just want to know more about the new girl, Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah, well you’re doing it wrong.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and clutches the toys in his arms tighter, “You do it then!”

“Do what?”

“Introduce us! Make friends!”

“I think you blew it already.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun. If she’s going to the same place as us, she might as well join us! What do you say, new girl?”

You’re shaken from the brief exclusion of the conversation— realizing they’re including you this time— when Iwa tears his eyes away from his friend and meets yours once again. Upon connection with the emeralds, your throat constricts your throat and the relief of ease washes over. The hesitancy that was bubbling in your stomach starts to dissipate when he looks at you— almost comforted by his dark yet steady stare— but the sense is quickly replaced by something else that shakes you. Your skin prickles, like fire ants marching up the pattern of your skin, and your palms start to sweat despite the cooling temperatures and the light breeze blowing against your skin.

You’d have to tell your mom about this, just to make sure you weren’t getting sick.

“Would you like to join us?” Iwa asks. There’s no trace of a smile on his face but the invitation isn’t lacking in warmth. It’s a subtle kind, almost imperceptible if it weren’t for the look of curiosity residing upon his features. He speaks gently, like there wasn’t a distance between you two and another person listening in on the conversation, pointing his question and attention solely at you. There was a center of his gravitational pull and it was in your direction.

He’s waiting for your answer, and not the kind that results after courteously asking someone a question; You can tell he is really waiting, wanting to know what you say because his eyes hold onto yours in a way that is much more mature than a boy at the tender age of ten should be looking at someone.

He’s sincere. He doesn’t even know you and yet he waits upon you as though your response were one he was to weigh considerably with his agenda. He’s a stranger, only said two things directly to you, and yet you feel weightless in the most minute of his attention.

The rocks of anxiety that were sitting heavily in your stomach for the past month have disappeared and the answer that he waits so intensely for comes rather naturally. It’s the surest you’ve felt in a while. You don't know them at all, aren't even sure if you'll like them, but what would you be other than a fool to not follow the path of certain safety laid out in front of you, disguised as a black-haired boy with the spiky hair? How can you be sure unless you don't see for yourself?

“Yeah,” you sigh out, burdensome weight lifting off your shoulders at the answer, “Can I?”

“Yeah. You can.” He affirms with a nod, the corner of his lips quirking upward. Oikawa, rather befittingly, shouts a cheer, resuming his incessant chatter in throwing an onslaught of questions your way but you’re not listening. Pulled elsewhere you find your gaze being drawn back to the calm and steady boy, with the sea of emerald in his eyes.

“I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, by the way. And that’s Oikawa Tooru.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

“Cool.”

You spend the whole day with them, quickly finding a natural place in their relationship, serving as the happy in-between of the flamboyant nature of Oikawa and the pillar of stone that is Iwaizumi. It’s fun, the most fun you’ve had in the entirety of your move that you find yourself trying to make some kind of excuse to extend the day when the sun starts to set.

But Oikawa has to go home, and so does Iwa, and the disappointment is more than apparent on your face. There’s the unmistakable promise of seeing one another again, that of which was affirmed when Oikawa held out his pinky for you to take and solidify the statement on.

“I can walk you home if you want.” Iwaizumi tells you after you both wave your goodbyes to the other brunet. It’s a godsend, a miracle from the heavens who heard your building plight and decided to spare your jilted mind with some form of comfort.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you tell him, purely as a formality. Your mother’s lessons of never burdening others kicking into gear at his offer, but you plead, secretly in the deep recesses of your brain that he disagrees. Hope desperately that he’ll take the initiative and stay with you just a moment longer.

He shakes his head, bearing a toothy smile that is missing one of his canines. “I don’t mind. My mom always tells me to make sure girls get home safe.”

Calm, steady, comforting. You selfishly agree before you have half a mind to say otherwise, “Okay. I live this way.”

And as he trails beside you, holding his bike in his hands as he walks at the pace you set, telling you the details about his favorite monster movie, you find yourself incredibly enamored with the short, sweaty boy that hates green tea and loves summertime.

And not for the first time.

You’re thirteen when you realize that you have a terribly, horribly, deeply incessant crush on Iwaizumi Hajime.

It’s lunchtime and while you’re usually quick to eat with the resident bickering duo of Sendai, they’ve ditched you for volleyball practice— and not for the first time. So you sit with your other group of close friends, the ones you made through the conventional school setting, and not because they impulsively adopted you into their routine. They’re the necessary and equal balance to the growing testosterone you religiously spend your weekends with, so ultimately you’re not too upset at being left behind for a sport.

Besides, it’s nice to be surrounded by girls who talk about normal things instead of sweaty violent boys that only talk about volleyball and occasionally the things you like.

Mai, a girl with a short bob that frames her round face, shakes the table with her loud laughter, the curtain of her hair swaying in tune to her joyful movement. She was the first friend you made in this group, and easily the one you’re closest to. The complete opposite of Hajime if her unabashed, frantic excitement is anything to go by. But much like the spaces in this Miyagi heart of yours that’s dedicated to Tooru and Hajime, there’s one for her too. She grabs onto one of your arms and holds it tightly, seeking stability as her melodic laughter rings through your table.

It’s hard not to laugh alongside her.

“Please!” She begs Yua, a blonde girl in the year above you, and wipes her eyes free from the laughter-induced tears, “No more! I’m gonna pee!”

Yua huffs, shrugging her shoulders to say that Mai’s inability to hold her urine was beyond her control, “I’m serious! That’s how I found out Kaito had a crush on me!”

“And what did you do?” You ask, laughter lacing your own words at the tale Yua expertly weaved, describing in excruciating detail how Kaito from your third period wrote a love letter comparing Yua’s lips to that of a whale as if that was somehow a compliment.

“I ran away! What else was I supposed to do?!”

Mai howls with laughter, her body being thrown against yours and her arms flailing with the movements, unable to contain herself. You’re almost identical, finding that you follow Mai’s gesticulation in perfect countering. Where she pushes you left, you move in sync, allowing her to lean her weight on you as you both lose yourself in the story.

For as much seriousness as she tries to implement in her words, the quirking of her lips betray Yua, “Laugh all you want, but wait ‘til this happens to you! Then you’ll get it!”

“I don’t think Mai and I have to worry about that,” you tell her, the remainder of your laughter dying out of your words. Mai snaps upward, her body no longer slumped against yours, and instead of facing you with furrowed brows and an offended expression.

The two friends speak simultaneously, one with indignation and the other with confusion “Why not?”

The pointedness of the question makes it seem as though your words were wrong, a misstep in a direction that you have to apologize for. Regardless of whether or not you know why. “Uh, ‘cause no one likes us like that?”

Mai scoffs, crossing her arms and tilting her nose upwards, “Speak for yourself.”

“Sorry, no one likes me like that. So I don’t have to worry.” You say with a smile punctuating the statement with a scoop of rice into your mouth. It wasn’t a statement meant to be considered deeply, it was a simple fact. There were hardly any thirteen-year-olds looking your way, and even if there were, it wasn’t like your attention was focused on them either. All the boys in school were either too annoying or too stupid.

Except for Hajime. He was the only tolerable one. Oikawa fell into the “too annoying” category. But you still loved him—sometimes.

Yua and Mai share a glance, a fleeting look before they look back at you, “You’re joking, right?”

You look up from your food to meet their furrowed stares, “What?”

They share another glance, Mai answering Yua’s silent question with a shrug of her shoulders. You’re completely left in the dark. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Okay, so what if,” Yua begins, the familiar teasing lilt that you’ve widely associated with the blonde returning, stressing on the ‘if’, “someone did like you. What would you do?”

They both look at you with waggling eyebrows, like they’ve cornered you into the exact hypothetical they want you to be in. While this isn’t necessarily an unfamiliar place to be in, it is a weird one, considering you and boys have never really been the topic of conversation unless Iwa and Oikawa were somehow brought up. But your friendship with them was well known and not exactly hidden at all. It wasn’t sensational, nor was it the topic of gossip. Neither was the fact that you aren’t exactly the kind of girl the boys of Kitagawa First were looking at if they were even looking at girls.

“But no one likes me like that.”

“Answer the question.”

You gesture in exasperation, “I don’t know! I’m not really into anyone like that, so I guess I’d say no?”

The two girls pause again, sharing another look.

“Okay, can you two stop that?”

Mai speaks up this time, almost disbelieving, “You really don’t like anyone?”

“Am I supposed to?”

Yua sings, “Not even Iwaizumiii?”

The chopsticks that you held deftly in your hands go limp and a straight shot of shock runs down your spine. Time stands still in this cramped cafeteria and it feels like your head has been dunked into a bucket of cold water, halting the train of thought and highlighting every possible exit in this building.

The red lights of panic have turned on in your brain and they’re screaming at you to run.

“I— I don’t— what are you guys talking about?”

Your two best friends, who now resemble Satan’s assistants more than anything remotely positive to you, share their third unspoken glance, and you’re about to lose it.

“So,” Yua starts again, tearing her sly eyes from Mai’s excited ones, “You do like him?”

Code red. Abandon ship. Abort. R-U-N.

“No! He— I— We’re just friends!”

“Oh my god!” Mai slams her hands on the surface of the table, her brown eyes boring into your widened ones as she leans over to invade your personal space and poke your chest.

“You like him!”

The brain that is usually so quick with an excuse, trained to be sharp-witted and smart from years of intense teasing from Tooru and Hajime, suddenly feels like mush in your head. Ooey, gooey mush that can’t come up with anything but stuttering, “N-No” at the idea of having some romantic inclination towards Hajime. The best friend you hang out with every weekend; The boy that always walks you home and always makes sure your comments are heard; The spiky-haired idiot with a sea of emerald in his eyes that you always seem to drown in.

But, that’s not— that doesn’t mean— No.

You don’t like Hajime like that. He’s just a really really good friend. That you enjoy spending time with. That makes you feel comfortable with just a single look. The friend that you always want around, regardless of the kind of day. Yeah. That’s it.

Hajime is just that kind of person.

Yua gives an unconvinced hum and taps her bright pink nails on the table surface, “When you think about another girl liking him, do you get jealous?”

Mai backs up from your face to give a wide smile at the blonde, pointing at her wickedly and almost shouting, “Ooh! Good question!”

“Thanks, I read it in my sister’s magazine.”

Mai turns back, almost touching your nose with hers, “Well? Do you?”

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue as an instinctual defense against this personal interrogation, but it doesn’t come out. Partly because of the mush of your brain but also because you know any denial of that question just simply isn’t true; Because when Saran followed Hajime around all day in grade six, you distinctly remember being in a foul mood for a while.

A mood that could only be fixed when Hajime indirectly affirmed that he did not like her.

Oh god.

You like Hajime.

You like his stupid face and his stupid laugh and the stupid way he teases you and the stupid way he makes you feel.

Your friends laugh in your face for a solid minute while you hang your head in your hands, certain that your life was completely over with the new revelation. Yua is the instigator, teasing you relentlessly over the silent confession while Mai asserts that this is the beginning of a fairytale.

She says it with such conviction that you’re almost inclined to believe her until reason kicks in, and the shamefulness of the situation kicks in. You push it down, fine with keeping the acknowledgment exactly where it is, right under your thumb. That is until Oikawa finds out about it and then suddenly, it’s no longer in your control.

You’re fourteen when he corners you after school. He’s walking you home, taking Hajime’s usual role when said boy and subject of your plight had to stay home with the sick.

You don’t think he’s going to bring it up, hardly aware he even knows about it, but he does making you choke on your spit and trip over a crack in the sidewalk. He clutches his stomach in a guffaw.

“Did you really think you could hide it from me?” Tooru teases, his finger poking at your heated cheek that you quickly swat away.

“I’m not hiding anything, Tooru,” you mutter, keeping your head turned downwards. If Oikawa even sees a smidgen of embarrassment he would never let you live it down.

“Oh, please. You’re so easy to read, especially when Iwa-chan is around. You’re all, ‘oh Iwa, you’re so smart and funny. I want to be with you forever. Mwah, mwah, mwah!’” His hands are interwoven beside his head and he attempts a poor, high-pitched imitation of your voice. Again, Oikawa Tooru belongs in the “too annoying” category that most eighth-grade boys find themselves in.

You lift your left leg, thrusting your shin outward to kick the taller boy in his behind, a move all too familiar. Really, Oikawa should have seen it coming, having had it done to him so often by Iwaizumi. He’s too swept up in the antics of teasing, though, that it surprises him and the pain in his bottom is sharp. His hands cover the stinging area.

“Ow, (Y/N)!”

“That’s what you get for being stupid.”

“See! You even act him like him!”

You raise your fist upward and he raises his hands in defense, cowering at the threat of more pain, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He lowers his hands, one eye closed and the other peeking from behind his lowering fingers, “Gosh, so violent. I’m only trying to help!”

“I don’t need help.” You grumble.

You continue your trek onward, desperate to put as much distance between yourself and this nightmare of a conversation. But it’s not that simple. There are now three people that have realized the truth of your crush in less than a year— all of which are your closest friends. It’s only a matter of time before the friend above them all realizes it too.

Worst off, only a matter of time before someone tells him.

You turn towards Tooru with a speed that has him flinching and thrusting his hands upward for protection again. A yelp echoes around the empty street and was it not for the intensity behind your desperation, you probably would have laughed.

“Tooru.” There’s a rasp in your voice, one that you aren’t exaggerating. It makes Oikawa uncomfortable hearing such a serious depth to your previously annoyed cadence. In his continuously growing height, he stares down at you, fear crumpling his face.

“Don’t say my name like that—”

“You cannot tell Hajime.”

He straightens his posture out, hand rubbing the back of his neck. A brow is raised quizzically, “Isn’t that the whole point of having a crush? So that you can eventually tell that person about it?”

It’s not like you expect him to understand, hell, you don’t even understand it yourself. All you know is that Hajime cannot know about it; There are too many factors, too many problems that can happen. Besides, you’re sure it’s just a tiny crush, one that will go away after a couple of months.

And even if it didn’t, you still wouldn’t be able to tell him. Because you’ve been best friends for four years now, and if there was anything remotely remarkable about you, you’re sure something would’ve happened already. Because Hajime is strong, decisive, and steady. If he wants something, he goes for it; And if he wanted you, in any capacity like the way you want him, he would’ve said something.

But he doesn’t because you’re his best friend. Nothing is outstanding about you, nothing that would make you more than just the girl he’s friends with. Nothing that would make you any different from “just one of the guys”.

He would never see you as anything but.

So, it’s just easier to have Hajime as a friend than to risk it all for a likely rejection. You could swallow the feelings, bury them deep inside of you for the rest of time. It would be significantly easier than never talking to him again because you couldn’t be a big girl and not make things awkward.

You try to tell Oikawa as much, “It’s— I just— It would be easier if he didn’t know. It’ll go away soon.”

The brunet tilts his head to the side, kind of like a pouty puppy. When he’s not being a teasing butthead, he’s rather gentle with you, considerate of your emotions, and above all, eager to understand.

“Do you want it to go away?”

“Like I said, it would just be easier.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

A quiet settles between the two of you and it feels like it’s oceans wide. You, stranded out at sea in the terrorizing waves of emotions, and he, the lighthouse built on the rocks. Tall and fixed, beckoning you towards his stable ground of reason. It’s a brief reminder that when Oikawa tries, he’s not that annoying. He’s rather kind and empathetic.

“Do you want Hajime to like you?”

The deep cocoa eyes dig into you and the waves crash even more ferociously around you.

Cotton dries up your mouth, and the ache that always pains your heart whenever you think about Hajime returns in full force, “He never will.”

Oikawa huffs out a breath, back becoming imperceptibly straighter while he crosses his arms. It’s hard to imagine him as anything but that sweaty boy you met on the playground, but he stands before you a giant, body filling out from all the volleyball practice and the baby features of his face evening out to become the handsome boy girls were starting to see him as. He radiates his kind of steadiness, one different from Hajime, but equally as comforting.

It’s admirable— he’s admirable— when it's not pinned against you.

“And how do you know?”

“Tooru,” you sigh, exhaustion suddenly creeping up your shoulders along with the overwhelming urge to cry, “Please.”

You don’t feel like explaining all the intricacies of your perceived inadequacy and thank the gods above he’s a good enough friend to know when to stop prying, “Fine, fine. I’ll leave it alone. For now.”

You stare up at him, searching his face for any notion of deceit or subterfuge, “You promise you won’t say anything?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves his hand in dismissal, rolling his eyes in that way that portrays annoyance but the love is there. He understands you, at least.

You hold out your pinky for him, “Pinky promise?”

“What are we, ten?”

You hold your finger out further, almost waving it in his face. It’s the staple of trust in your friendship, instituted early on between you and him, and only you and him. He can’t back out now.

He takes it with a sigh of his own, huffing out his breath, and twisting his long, slender finger with yours. You shake his hand in affirmation, letting go only when you feel comfortable in the validity of his promise and resuming your walk home.

He throws an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly to his body, “Eventually you’re going to have to say something.”

“I know.”

“I hope you know I’m never letting you live this down.”

“It’s like you want me to hit you again.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe in the future, when you’re more comfortable with the fact that it’s your best friend of all people that gives you butterflies in your stomach, you’ll do something about it. But not right now, not when he spends all his time in volleyball and especially not when you were barely confident in yourself. Or maybe, it’ll go away, and you can look back on this as a funny memory rather than anything serious.

You’re fifteen when you finally accept the circumstances and become resigned to it. Finally understanding that your crush is more than just a crush, but knowing full well that that’s all you can let it be.

Hajime sits on the floor, surrounded by your regular friends plus a couple of others at Oikawa’s birthday party when he says it. You’re not supposed to hear it from your place in the kitchen, but you do and it’s a dagger to both heart and confidence. He’s confirmed everything you knew and quelled any potential rebuttal of thoughts Mai or Tooru have planted in your head.

You were stupid to think Hajime could ever see you as anything more than the girl he’s just friends with.

Your appetite quickly dissipates and you have to work extra hard to make sure pure despair doesn’t show on your face. Especially when Oikawa hears it too and he makes that face that looks like he wants to give you a hug, which makes everything ten times harder.

A kid named Matsukawa is the one that asks. You don’t blame him. He’s only fifteen, after all, asking what normal fifteen-year-olds normally talk about.

“What about (Y/N)? Would you date her?”

Hajime scoffs, a laugh on his lips as though it were the weirdest question he’s ever heard.

“She’s my best friend. That would be like dating my sister. I don’t like her like that.”

You’re fifteen and you’ve become resigned to it all, because it’s better to have Hajime as a friend, than to never have him at all. Because you would never have him; At least not in the way you want.

You don’t blame him for that either.

You cry about it later on, after the party is over and after you deny Hajime’s insistence to walk you home. He has a weird look on his face when you tell him you’ll be fine, your house is only a few blocks away. He wants to fight you on it, can see the argument forming it in that storm of green. It’s a shitty feeling to deny him so blatantly, but you really can’t stomach being around him at the moment. Not when your heart pangs longingly for him and your insecurities increase tenfold at the confirmation of your inadequacy.

Not when all of this is happening at once, showing as clear as day on your face, and he sees it. Worst of all, not when he wants to solve it, hardly understanding that he’s the cause of it.

His eyes narrow, staring intently as he studies your features. The scrutiny is uncomfortable and if he does stares a second longer the tears will fall.

“Did… something happen during the party?” Hajime asks hesitantly. There’s a whirlwind of possibilities crossing his mind, all indicating rather unsavory and horrifying ideas that have his worry bubbling beneath his skin. You’re barely meeting his gaze, hands clasped tightly before you and body way too stiff. The complete opposite of your normal demeanor, especially around him.

Usually so open, so vibrant. And here you stand before him, the dark of night surrounding you and the fluorescent glow of the streetlamps casting a ghoulish light on your face, exaggerating your dejected features more prominently.

He’s heard of worst-case scenarios when girls and boys get together, something mentioned in passing when his mother was on the phone with his aunt. He never really thought much about it, considering he would never do something like that and he doesn’t hang around many girls, to begin with for something like that to be an immediate concern..

In this stark contrast of a moment, however, he’s briefly reminded of the fact that he so often tends to forget. You’re a girl; A living, breathing, pretty girl. Everyone likes you, would be fools not to. And while he would never allow himself or anyone else to force themselves upon you, you weren’t with him for the whole party. Disappearing for a brief moment after he saw you enter the kitchen. The idea of something like that— something that horrible— happening to you under his nose has all of his instincts on fight mode, forget the flight. A shattering of the innocence he was so previously impervious to.

The implication is clear in his voice accompanied with the fear-stricken features, so you can hardly miss what he means.

“Did— Did anyone…?” His voice cracks and he hurriedly tries to clear it up with the clearing of his throat, but you heard it. It happens often when he’s wrestling with an onslaught of emotions, trying his hardest to remain calm and clear-headed and focused that sometimes his voice just gives out. Also, puberty.

The act doesn’t matter though, not when he’s silently amping himself up to fight someone if you were touched inappropriately. He would win; He’s been in a couple of fights before, usually off school property, he doesn’t mind getting into another one. Not if it was for you. And he would win; Would make sure of that.

The tussle for calm is transparent on his face. Lips struggling to stay in a closed, neutral line rather than the frown he has to hold back. His fists clench, blunt nails digging into the skin of his palms to alleviate the growing anger, only to prove futile. He so badly wants to grab you by the shoulders, shake you furiously, ask what the hell is going on because you’re never like this—

He doesn’t. He knows better. Even if the suspense is driving him up the wall and the tension that encapsulates the empty street is thick and choking him.

Finally, you say something.

“No, Haji,” you say softly, “No one did anything to me.”

It’s what Iwaizumi wants to hear; Should be ecstatic to know that you are physically unharmed, free from the taint that comes with a foreign touch, the one he’s intent to protect you from. Your voice is too quiet though, and the smile you give him is too small for him to feel any modicum of ease. You're lying. Someone did something.

“I’m fine, really!” You try again, amping up the energy to convince him. It falls flat.

“(Y/N).” That spiky head of hair tips forward, pushing himself in your averting line of sight, refusing to let you hide from him. He’s taller now, finally taller than you. While his hair is still that fluff of mess on his head, his eyes are still that piercing green that can always read you like a book and his favorite season is still summer, only this time he no longer enjoys going to the park, but instead the beach.

He’s the same Hajime you fell in love with and the remainder is enough to cause a lump swell in your throat.

“What are you hidi—”

“Iwa-chan!”

The familiar melodious voice rings out in the empty street, its owner sauntering his way over to your departing figures. There’s that recognizable air of flowering confidence rolling off of him like a humid heat and the sly shining of his pearly whites that serves as a buffer from the thick air of tension between you and Haj— Iwaizumi.

Just, Iwaizumi. No added affection.

There's magic in Oikawa’s stroll, you’re sure of it. It looks perfectly coincidental, like he just so happened to stumble upon a tense scene, instead of the very much needed and purposeful intervention for his emotionally crushed best friend and worry-fueled other best friend.

And they call him the idiot.

He sighs that flowery breath of his, throwing his arm around Iwa’s shoulders and watching the desperation that filled your gaze wash away with relief at his intrusion. Iwa’s confusion only seems to increase, but truthfully, Oikawa isn’t too concerned with his hard-headed friend. He’s really only keen on getting you out of there— out to safety and away from the source of your heartbreak.

“Iwa-chan, you have to go set up the movie player. I have no idea how to work it.”

“I’ve shown you how to do it four times, Tooru.”

“But it’s so much easier when you do it. Don’t worry, I’ll walk our precious flower home while you set up for our sleepover.”

Iwaizumi hesitates, his eyes bouncing from the self-assured smile of Oikawa to your downturned gaze. There’s something wrong, he knows it. But it’s obviously a secret he isn’t allowed into.

He won’t pry, he’s never been one to beg for secrets— never been one to want secrets told to him at all. However, there’s a particular sting at knowing that it’s you who’s hiding something and refusing to tell him. That there’s something Oikawa is aware about, that he isn’t allowed to know.

It’s not his business, he surmises. You’re not his business. He swallows that bitter pill, accepting Oikawa’s offer with a brief nod. He’s not happy, that’s plain to see, but he knows better than to insert himself where he’s not wanted.

Calm, steady, comfortable. Iwaizumi will fight for what he wants, but not when it hurts you in the process.

He bids you a brief goodbye, voice tight and rigid, clearly displaying his dissatisfaction but accepting it nonetheless. He doesn’t even look back at you. It’s what you want, you suppose. Some distance from him for your benefit, so you can at least try and forget about how you feel; Save yourself from the devastation of falling even deeper in love with him.

He enters Oikawa’s house. It’s a place you’ve been many times, slept over on many occasions yet, when Iwaizumi crosses the threshold with a strain on his shoulders and a grimace on his face, you can’t help but wonder if he’s finally going someplace that you can’t follow. If you’ve spent all these years pining over him, wondering if you would ever be enough for him, only to push him away into an area of no return.

Oikawa doesn’t give you a moment to think long about it before he’s ushering you away from the crime scene where your uncontrollable and childish feelings have brutally injured a fraying friendship and guiding you home. He talks the entire time, about everything and nothing, and you’re rather grateful for the background noise. To finally think about something other than your broken heart and Iwaizumi’s betrayed face.

He leaves you at your door with the promise that things will get better, that it won’t hurt so much, and that he’s always there for you. He places a sweet kiss on the crown of your head, turning his back with a final wave and leaving you alone with your thoughts. The promise of meeting one another again is unspoken, instinctive. You know deep down, though, it’ll be different from here on out. You’ll have to be more careful, more guarded with the things you say and do.

You wonder if Iwaizumi has as much trouble sleeping that night as you do.

(He does. He doesn’t sleep at all.)

Things do get better, which is a blessed curse. The tension eventually resolves after a couple of weeks of tiptoeing around each other. Normality returns in full-swing and you’re able to talk to Hajime without the overwhelming feeling of guilt and need to explain everything; If he holds any issues about what happened that night, he doesn’t mention it, following your lead and letting the friendship return to normal.

The problem lies in the fact that Oikawa was ultimately right, and he makes a point to show that he’s right. That things did get better, and the fragmentation of your splintering relationship with the boy you love eventually gets patched up.

Life moves on.

The feelings don’t go away, but you get better at managing them. It’s significantly easier to push the pining down and not think too much about any passing romantic comments in school that pair you and Iwaizumi together; Nor do you think twice about the harmless flirting that occasionally comes your way. You dish it back, continuing the joking nature of the friendship and after a while, it doesn’t hurt so bad. You exit the stages of puberty and things don’t feel as hectic as they once were.

The turbulent waves of emotions finally die down to a steady roll, and for a while, you’re able to float. It’s safe, peaceful, exactly how you want it to stay.

That is until you’re seventeen, almost eighteen, and Iwaizumi asks you to be his fake girlfriend. The waves pick up steam and you’re drowning again. You have the girls of Aoba Johsai to thank for that.

This time though, you’re determined to protect yourself. The anxiety of it all starts to settle in between your shoulders and instead of falling victim to the whims of an unsuspecting Iwaizumi once again, the urge to protect yourself and your pathetic emotions takes precedence. You will not be reduced down to the unconfident, love-sick girl you once were; You’ve worked too hard to do that. You matter more than Iwaizumi’s stupid girl problem.

It’s why you don’t think twice when you blurt it out after agreeing to help.

“We need a contract.”

“A contract?” Hajime parrots back, broad arms crossed over his equally broad chest and the intense training you’ve instilled in yourself to not stare at him meets its limitations, lest you stoop down to the level of the girls he’s so desperate to evade. He’s grown so much, physically and personally, that it's hard to not look at him. You force yourself to glance around the crowded cafe, look anywhere but his veiny arms, and instead replace your view with the small restaurant you two frequent every Monday— the only day he has off from volleyball practice.

It’s a small establishment that sells teas and noodles, a pleasant find to make one day when the both of you were hungry pre-teens and full of time on your hands. It’s usually rather empty during this time as it’s just out of the line of sight to avoid the after-school rush of students, but today the line extends outside of the door, all attendees eager to have a taste of miso ramen and pushing against bodies to do so. The people behind you are respectful enough to give you as much space as one can afford in the cramped venue, but you end up still having to press yourself into the stiff body of the boy— no, man— beside you.

You have the decency to look at least a little uncomfortable in the tightness of the situation, but Hajime shows nothing. Whether it’s because he doesn’t even care that your chest is bracing against his arm or he’s too distracted with the complicatedness of his “girl” problem, his face betrays no embarrassment at the closeness. No frustration, no discomfort, not even annoyance. He merely exists, dealing with your body pressed against his as if this were a regular occurrence and not an awkward preemption to the farce that you’ve stupidly agreed to. This would surely haunt you for the rest of your years.

This man of steel, this monolith of lean, corded muscle, was going to be your “boyfriend” for the next couple of weeks. You would be lucky if this arrangement even lasted for that long considering the confession of pure unadulterated adoration is crawling up the canal of your throat and tearing the fabric of your skin, sticking a middle finger at the rational parts of your brain trying desperately to hold it back.

Your fate is signed, knowing full and well that in your inability to deny Hajime— especially when he’s so desperate, which is a rarity in and of itself— you’ve willingly agreed to have your dignity and confidence stripped from your person and your feelings thrown in a loop for the sake of his sanity.

It’s annoying. Every potential hypothetical plays itself in high definition across the theatre of your mind and each one ends with you being brutally rejected once again. There’s no way you could handle something like that again, no matter how much you’ve matured.

This is a bad idea, and you need to tell him that.

But then the sight of pleading jades enters your vision and you distinctly remember the permanent frown that etched itself on Hajime’s face these past three months. Remember how the feelings of deep discomfort forced him to confide in you on a late-night phone call when sleep evaded him and he detailed the dread he felt at the prospect of going to school the next school day.

If your mouth even opened a fraction to breathe, you’re sure the “I’m in love with you and have been since sixth grade” will come tumbling out, but even the fear of that happening doesn’t overpower the overwhelming desire to help the man you’re madly in love with.

There’s a limit to what would be forsaken in the name of Iwaizumi Hajime’s happiness, but your sanity isn’t it.

The situation worsens when the subtle shifting of the patrons behind you throws you off balance and forces you impossibly closer to him. The shuffling of feet knocks into your own, tilting you off balance despite your leaning against Hajime. A rebuttal is on the tip of your tongue ready to be released in rapid-fire when Hajime beats you to it.

He quickly wraps his arm around your waist, allowing your unsteady feet to find balance against his lean body of stone, clutching you tightly to his side as if the accidental push against you were a personal offense.

The protective nature that so often lies dormant in his personality rears its head forward and you swear your heart stops beating altogether.

“Easy,” he mutters, a layer of strict dismay interweaving in his words as he casts a pointed side glare at the two boys standing behind you. You hardly hear it, much too occupied with trying not to drown in the sudden flooding of his cologne in your nostrils.

Musk and spice. His usual scent, but even more addicting when it’s this close.

This is a bad idea. This is a horrible, bad, awful idea. Bad, bad, bad idea.

You have to end this. You won’t survive this.

“C-contract.” You, somehow, manage to spit out, shaking your head free from the waft of his scent and the strength of his arm across your back.

Okay, not necessarily ending this but protecting yourself. Yeah, that’s it. Because there is no way you want him to keep acting like this, no. You’re just doing this to help and totally not to selfishly indulge in the delight of being his, even if it is fake.

He tears his narrowed eyes away from the boys behind you to glance at you, the remnants of disapproval flickering in the sea of green that you swear only evens out when he looks at you, “Right. What’s in this contract?”

“The, uh, basics,” you begin, voice slowly finding its footing after the intense whiplash you just experienced. You're surprised you can even form words that aren’t resembling proclamations of desire, “What we can and can’t do, how long this is for, and so on.”

“That’s a good idea,” He breathes out. The line shifts forward, and the cashier finally enters the field of view. With a quick recoil, as though his skin were burned by the action, he removes his hand from around your waist. The warmth of his arm rescinds with it, and that thirteen-year-old girl that has fantasized for years about this, whines in desperation. You quickly tell her to shut up.

He clears his throat, awkwardness filling the cramped and stale air, “Uh, sorry. About that.”

He avoids your eyes and you quickly look around too, “It’s fine.”

A silence ensues. It’s not uncomfortable, per se, but it’s a far cry from the brief pauses in conversation that usually occur between the two of you. The comfortable silences that occur naturally between friends of five years. You wonder if you should address it, address the fact that if you two were to pull this off— and pull it off well— there were going to be more moments when he was going to have to touch you like that.

He was going to have to hold your hand and give you frequent hugs and actually act like he was in love with you. Act.

You swallow at the prospect. Not like that would be hard for you to do, you think rather pitifully.

There are two more couples in front of you when you say, “I’d like to institute the first provision.”

Hajime quirks an eyebrow, his lips lifting upward, an obvious sign of gratefulness at being able to brush over that weird moment of physicality. He doesn’t know why it was instinctual, or why he even thought that placing his hand that low around your waist would be a good idea. But, he did it; And it’s quite the revelation when he realizes he didn’t mind it.

At all.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He glances at you to his right, the teasing smile gracing your features and the recognizable glint of mischief in your eyes.

“You have to buy all of the food we eat together.”

He scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “I already buy all of our food.”

“I always pay you back!”

“You owe me at least three-thousand yen.”

“Okay, an addendum to provision one.”

“Shoot.”

“You buy all of our food and forgive my debts.”

He laughs louder tilting his head back as his teeth peek from his pink lips. It’s the bark of laughter that swells your beating heart with confidence. You may not have him romantically, but there’s no denial of the fact that he likes you in his life, especially when you can make him laugh like that, “I’m starting to think this contract is only beneficial to you.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, the body still tucked tightly beside his as feet shuffle forward in the line, “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m doing you a huge favor.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.” A silence befalls again, this one not as tense as before. A small smile plays on his lips and there’s a sincerity behind his gaze that reminds you of how appreciative he really is for this. Hajime isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to repay you for stepping in and helping him in the most intimate of ways that you most likely would rather not do. There wasn’t ever an expressed interest in the dating scene from you, always denying the occasional confession that came your way and never thinking twice about the romantic holidays that come and go.

He wonders why because if you tried, you’d have every guy within a ten-foot radius begging for your attention. Surely one of them would be worthy of your love. (He doesn’t agree though. There’s no one in this world who could ever be worthy of you. Not when you smile so brightly and tease so enticingly. No one would ever deserve that part of you. No one that he would ever approve of, anyway..) He’s not dumb in realizing that your willingness to engage in a romantic relationship with him— even if it is a fake one— is a large deviation from the norm. It’s not something to be taken lightly.

So, he owes you. Big time. Whatever you want, whatever you put in this contract, he’ll do. He’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.

(Fake boyfriend, he has to remind himself. He swallows down the disappointment.)

“Thank you.” he breaks the silence, rubbing the back of his heating neck, “Again. For doing this for me. I don’t—”

“Ah, ah!” You interrupt, holding your hand upwards and wagging a finger at him, “I haven’t done anything yet, so don’t start thanking me so soon. Who knows? I might sabotage this whole thing, be the worst girlfriend you could ever imagine.”

The couple in front of you finishes their order, stepping to the side to allow the both of you forward. You step up, dragging him with you but you don’t miss the low throaty chuckle he emits when he says, “You like me too much to do that.”

He pats the top of your head, smoothing the fly-away hairs with a wink and a sly smile, and then, like nothing even happened, he steps up to the counter, taking the initiative and placing your usual orders. There’s both too much nuance and not enough to his statement to determine if you should be scared at his words. Does he know? Did Oikawa tell him?

You don’t even notice when he puts both food items on one bill.

It’s then that you remember, with little humor like someone who’s forgotten a necessary step to an important project, that while you’ve done a lot of growing and building these past four years to fortify the walls of your heart, so has he. He’s stronger, more confident, more sturdy.

Fourteen-year-old you built the walls for a fourteen-year-old Iwaizume Hajime. She didn’t even think to consider the damage eighteen-year-old Ace and Vice-Captain of the Seijoh Volleyball Team could do. Not with a spike those strong arms could make and a sea of green that you still drown in.

The first large crack in the barriers has been made.

He turns to face you upon finishing the order, stepping to the side and bracing his body against the far wall of the restaurant to allow the next customers to the counter. That damn sly smile is still on his face, and it’s then you realize that he has to know. He has to know what he’s doing, or at least know that it’s doing something to you.

“So,” he tucks his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants, biceps bulging at the action “tell me about this contract, sweet girlfriend of mine.”

end notes: god damn glad that’s over. what did yall think?? too much? not enough? lemme know! i love reading all of your tags and comments, it fills me with such happiness :))))

tag list: @bruh-kill-me @owlnymph @airybnb @yukiilu-personal @cathwritestragediesnotsins @berna-dette

#haikyuu iwazumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #my writing #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

78 notes · View notes

im-moreofa-dogperson · 3 years

Text

A Fearful Encounter - Part 3

Featuring: Dr. Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader

Warning: swearing, mention of guns, attempted assault, fluff

Summary: After you escape from Arkham Asylum with the help of Jonathan Crane, you begin to suspect that not everything is what it seems.

Words: 2372

Previous Parts: part 1 part 2

_______________________________________________

The next morning after John promised he’d stay guard for you, you woke up disoriented and embarrassed. You had kissed him. You kissed the man that had more or less tortured you for over a month.

Of all the idiotic things you had done over the last few weeks, this one was the worst.

His sudden shift in allegiance was apparent though, you just couldn’t figure out why it was so. He had helped you escape and even went as far as to investigate the safety of your home and assured you he’d stay the night. All the while having been the very reason that safety precautions were necessary in the first place.

You were too tired and frustrated to ponder over this any longer, however, so you dragged yourself out of bed and got dressed.

You walked into the kitchen catching a glimpse of John sleeping. It was oddly reassuring to see he’d followed through with his promise, but it was also the most bizarre sight you’d ever witnessed. His left arm was hanging over the side of the couch and his right leg was resting on top of the throw you’d given him.

What was unusual was how serene he looked. You were used to him always being on guard; his piercing eyes assessing someone’s entire being before they’ve even had a chance to introduce themselves.

And now with his eyes lightly shut and his mouth slightly agape, he was more disarmed and vulnerable than you’d ever imagined he’d be.

He suddenly shifted in his sleep letting out a soft moan and snapping you out of your trance. You turned your attention to the fridge before quickly realizing that everything would be expired given that you hadn’t been home in the last month.

You stared in the empty void of your fridge for a solid minute, anyways, before John startled you by saying, “I can just walk you to the bagel shop across the street.”

You jumped not having known he had woken up and was watching you that whole time.

“Um, sure,” you respond after getting over your initial shock. You didn’t really see any other way you’d safely get food after what he had told you last night.

You still had the gun you’d stolen but left it in your dresser drawer given that you’ve never shot one before, and didn’t want to take your chances with such a severe lack of experience.

He nods and stands up, casually tossing the blanket back onto the couch. He’d slept in his clothes and had only taken off his boots and jacket which he put back on as you follow him out the door.

You were thankful he didn’t bring up the kiss from last night, but at the same time, a part of you wished he would at least say something about the connection you felt, so you could catch a glimpse of his thinking process.

After John escorted you to and back from the bagel shop, he had caught the attention of one of his men who was keeping guard outside your apartment. Once it was settled that this man would be watching you today, John decided it was time for him to head back to the Asylum.

With one last apology from him and an awkward goodbye, you were once again on your own in your apartment.

******

A few days had passed since you last saw John and since then, you’d noticed the same black SUV parked beneath your window and knew he had kept his promise again in terms of keeping you protected.

While you understood the necessity of being constantly watched given what he had told you about all the nefarious people who’d be coming after you, part of you wondered if he’d actually lied about it all.

You wondered if he’d made up the reason for your need to be under constant supervision, so he could continue with his research. You figured there was only one way to test this theory.

Grabbing your jacket off the armchair in your room and slipping your stolen gun in your pants using your sweater to cover it, you ventured out of your apartment.

Beginning the 3-block walk to your favorite coffee shop, you quickly notice the SUV following you from the corner of your eye.

Upon entrance to the shop, you subtly look around for another exit. The man keeping a watch on you didn’t get out of his car, wrongly assuming you were just there for coffee.

You notice a back exit that led into the alley. You figure that if anyone was actually after you, they’d be lurking nearby waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Slipping out the back door using the crowd of customers as cover, you glance back at the guard still parked out front. Good, you thought. At least you weren’t the only gullible sap in this city.

When the heavy back door slammed shut behind you, you took in your surroundings and noticed the alley was practically empty of life except a few rats scuttling behind a nearby dumpster. The noise of the bustling city echoed through the street creating a false sense of security.

You waited to see if any strangers would approach you, but when no one came forward after a couple minutes you immediately felt foolish.

How could you have believed a man who was known for deceiving his victims? That whole charade he put on the first night you were back home was just another trick. Only this time, instead of being brought on by Fear Toxin, this hallucination was brought on by a silly, seemingly baseless infatuation.

While you beat yourself up for your significant misjudgment of character, you failed to notice the strange man slinking his way towards you.

Before you knew what was happening, you were pinned up against the brick wall with a knife set against your throat.

You instinctively bring a knee up to the man’s groin. He grunts and doubles over as you push yourself from the wall, slightly stumbling away give how shaken up you were.

You don’t make it far, however, as the man catches up to you grabbing your waist, spinning you around and shoving you onto the ground.

Your head smacks into the concrete causing you to cry out. You reach for the gun tucked in your pants, but the man beats you to it and tosses it aside. So much for that, you think.

“Not all you’re cracked up to be, huh?” He growls. He brings his knife back up, but you continue to fight him, causing him to be more forceful, pressing the knife against your skin.

“What’s your secret, huh?” he continues. “How’d you fucking do it, bitch?” Instead of responding, you turn your head away from him and desperately attempt to reach for the gun sitting just inches from your fingertips.

“Doesn’t really matter anyways because you’ll be dead as soon as I’m done with you.” He mutters into your ear, ignoring your futile struggling.

Suddenly, you feel him jab a knee between your legs, pushing them apart.

Just as his free hand roughly grabs the hem of your pants in an attempt to rip them off you, a voice calls from behind you: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

You lean your head further back to look behind you and a wave of relief washes over you at the sight of John’s face. The guard that was in charge of you must’ve alerted him as soon as he noticed you were missing.

John holds his gun, unwavering, pointed directly at the face of the man holding you down.

However, instead of letting you go, the man pulls you up keeping the knife pressed against your neck.

“So, THIS is how you managed to do what no other crazy has done before.” The man muses. “Slithering your way into the heart of a scarecrow, well sweetheart, I hate to break it to ya, but scarecrows famously have no hearts. Or is that a brain?” He teases.

John goes on, unfazed by the man’s accusation. “Sir, would you like to see my mask?”

Instead of answering with words, the man pushes his knife harder against your neck slightly puncturing through skin, causing a subtle grunt from you.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” John pulls his mask out of his back pocket where it was tucked and put it on with his free hand. He then pulls out a small spray bottle and douses the man in what you could only assume was Fear Toxin.

John must have configured you’d be acclimated to this dose and therefore wouldn’t be affected.

The man cried out and shoved you forward straight into John’s open arm who pulled you into him while keeping his gun trained on the man. You knew what was coming, so you turned towards John’s chest just as you heard him pull the trigger.

******

You walk back into your apartment still shocked about the gruesome scene that you now blamed yourself for instigating. You begin to fall onto the couch, but John had other ideas.

He grabs your upper arms and swings you back up so you’re standing just in front of him. He glares into your eyes with that icy blue stare.

“What were you thinking.” He says this slowly and deliberately then clenches his jaw, as if his anger is so severe it’s difficult for him to speak.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t lying to me.” You confess. He glares into your eyes for a few more seconds before noticing the small bleeding cut on your neck.

He abruptly lets go of you, and strides over to the kitchen. You breathe out a heavy sigh collapsing into the couch and closing your eyes.

As you begin to mull over everything that just happened, your eyes are jolted open again as you feel the sudden sting of a damp rag against your cut.

John sat on the cushion next to you and held pressure on your neck with one hand, the other hand holding the back of your head to keep you still.

You were reminded of the first night you met him when he’d laid you on the hospital bed and sat in front of you giving you his full attention. Of course, then he’d been threatening your sanity, unlike now with him taking care of a minor laceration.

You gaze up at the pale ceiling leaning against John’s hand and say, “so, you weren’t kidding when you said I’m somewhat disliked now by a few bad people.”

“No. I wasn’t.” He states.

“Not sure what you expected of me.” You continue without turning your head. “I mean how could I not question every word that comes out of your mouth, Scarecrow.”

You hear him chuckle at that last word, the opposite of the reaction you were expecting to incite.

He removes the rag from you and reaches over to the coffee table where he’d set a few butterfly bandages. He carefully places two on your cut eliciting a sharp inhalation from you.

“I must have mistaken that kiss as a sign of trust then.” He says. You whip around to look at him seeing he has his eyebrows now slightly raised. He knew that would get a rise out of you.

You scoff and shake your head before saying:

“You know what, yeah, you did. For such a profound psychiatrist or whatever you are, you sure have overlooked my reckless patterns. I mean do you even know how I got out of Arkham? I caused a commotion. That’s it.”

“No scheming allegiances, no spectacular, award-winning plan that should ever have warranted the respect from a genius like you, just causing enough chaos in the hopes that I’d somehow be able to slip through the cracks unnoticed.”

The words tumble out of you as if you’d been holding on to this anger for far too long, not even sure what you were saying, only that you were angry. John sat still and watched you, studying you with a piercing gaze.

“And if you’ll remember correctly, it didn’t even work! You stopped me! If you hadn’t had this sudden change of heart, or whatever the hell is going on, I’d still fucking be there!”

“That first night we met, you mistook me as someone who has a plan. But I fucking don’t, okay?! I don’t know what I’m doing, and not to mention, I just got some guy fucking killed!”

“No you didn’t.” John says as he reaches out and grabs your arms to hold you still as you were still visibly shaking out of frustration.

“What are you talking about, I heard it.” You say in an exhausted tone.

“Oh, I didn’t kill that man.” He says matter-of-factly. You look at him befuddled, so he goes on, “You were caught in that Fear intake as well, and given that you aren’t 100% acclimated to it, you only imagined I’d shot him.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You felt like you were back on the pier, the ominous Gotham Bay at your back, and a complete reliance on John given any future slip-ups.

“And it isn’t entirely a reckless pattern. It’s bold. You were already unafraid before even taking my toxin. If there’s one thing a genius like me, your words, can respect it’s using chaos to your own benefit.”

You stare at him in disbelief. You hadn’t realized yet what it was in you that had caught the attention of such an illustrious criminal as John, but here he was telling you it’s because he was impressed by your unconventionality.

He continues on ignoring your speechlessness, “You’re not safe here. Not alone.”

You scoff lightly, and retort, “On the contrary, I think I was in considerably less danger before you showed up.”

“That may be true, but given that I have shown up, that argument is invalid.”

“So, what then, are you gonna take me back to the Asylum?” You contest.

“No. I meant what I said when I told you I was sorry for that. I’m done experimenting on people. You can stay with me until I figure out a plan.”

You furrow your eyebrows and say, “a plan for what?”

“A plan to help get you out of Gotham.”

_______________________________________________

#jonathan crane #cillian murphy #scarecrow #dc fic #dr. jonathan crane #batman

27 notes · View notes

homeformyheart · 3 years

Note

For F: “That position looks impossible enough, let’s try it.”

thank you V for the prompt!! this definitely got away from me, but I hope it works!

author’s note: thank you for the request, @hunnybadgerv. i hope this does your prompt justice and sorry for the length, all the intimacy feels got away from me (and i have to give a lot of inspiration credit to @gavcowles). this is very soft, the smut really plays a secondary role to the intimacy and respect for the boundaries of an aspec partner. *just fyi: my enby detective harley uses she/they pronouns and is aspec. hope you all enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except the oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – felix hauville x nb!detective (harley bishop) rating/warnings: 18+; ns*w smut noted between the 🔥⚡ and ❄💧 icons (minors dni) based on/prompt: nsfw dialogue prompts // 73. “That position looks impossible enough, let’s try it.” (in bold) word count: 1.7k summary: felix learns harley’s boundaries and encourages them to be intimate on their terms.

on their terms

felix balances a pile of thick, heavy books on one arm while reaching up toward a shelf above his head. he realizes he underestimated the ladder rung that would get him the closest and it’s too late now to change course, given how he’s already balancing on one leg, the other extended behind him.

he very much looks like a ballerina-in-training.

in his haste, he accidentally grabs a few thin volumes stacked closely next to each other and leaps down to the ground. he glances at the one on top, the smallest of the bunch by far, and his eyebrows rise in surprise and curiosity.

he drops the rest of the books so he can flip through his new discovery, wincing at the sound of heavy texts crashing to the floor in a heap. he knows he’ll get an earful from nat for leaving them there, but he’s too excited and runs off to harley’s room.

they’re reading through some reports when he bursts in and climbs into the bed to sit next to them.

“look what i found in the library! nat’s been holding out on us,” felix grins, showing them the cover. “i am definitely not letting her live this down.”

harley raises an eyebrow in surprise at the title: sex positions through the ages.

“why are you assuming it’s nat’s?” they ask curiously, putting aside the reports and curling into his side as he wraps an arm around them.

this is one of his favorite (although everything about harley is his favorite) things to do with hayley – hold them and be held by them with the feeling of complete and utter belonging blanketing them both.

he flips through the pages quickly, taking in all the various illustrations the book offers. harley hums in agreement every few poses, until felix comes across one that makes him pause.

“that position looks impossible enough, let’s try it,” he suggests, moving the book over so harley can get a better look.

the position in question requires quite a bit of maneuvering, flexibility, and strength – none of which are “impossible” for him per se. but it’s still one that he hasn’t ever tried before, and felix is usually up for trying anything at least once.

he draws circles above harley’s hip, slipping his hand underneath their shirt carefully, watching their reaction out of the corner of his eye. they’ve been together long enough that he’s learned to read the subtle tells of their moods most of the time, but he still tries to encourage them to speak up more often.

harley remains still but he can feel their heartbeat against his ribcage. their hand hasn’t moved from its spot on his chest. he removes his hand from under their shirt and pulls it gently back down to cover their exposed skin.

if anything happens tonight, it has to be on their terms. even if harley hasn’t quite articulated their terms exactly – and he wishes they would soon so he could always know what lines must never be crossed – he’s still getting a feel for their boundaries.

his intuition hasn’t let him down yet.

he closes the book and leans down to kiss their hair softly, gently tucking his arm under their knees to pull them into his lap.

“thank you,” they murmur against his neck.

“of course, babe. i hope you never feel like you have to pretend with me,” felix responds as they pull back to look at him. “whatever we do, i always want it to be on your terms, okay?”

and he’s pretty sure the smile they give him could sustain him for the rest of his life.

“shower with me?” they ask suddenly and before he can respond, they’re pulling him out of bed and toward the bathroom.

their back is to him as they undress and step into the shower, adjusting the settings to the lukewarm temperature they know is at the upper limit of his tolerance and he follows suit, an ear-to-ear grin on his face at the sheer happiness filling his chest at the sight of them – comfortable and allowing him to see them this way.

the water gently flows over their bodies while they reach for the soap and he adjusts the showerhead pressure, grinding his teeth slightly at how extreme the adjustment feels until he gets used to it, standing behind harley with his hand on their hips and space between them as they finish washing their body.

his gaze moves up as they reach for their shampoo and he places his hand on theirs.

“let me,” felix murmurs quietly, grabbing the bottle and squeezing out a palm-sized amount onto his hand.

he knows, through observation but also trial-and-error, how much shampoo and conditioner to use for harley’s long, color-treated hair. and there’s something about how they let him gently massage their scalp (especially after the first few times when he was too eager and rough) and weave the products slowly down the length of their locks that makes his heart soar.

the bright blue color dulls a bit under the weight of the water and conditioner, but that’s how he knows he’s used enough. that, plus the quiet sighs of contentment leaving harley’s mouth sending a warmth blooming across his chest.

he shifts so that the stream of water hits their head directly, continuing his gentle massages as he rinses the products out of their hair. he carefully weaves his fingers through their tresses, untangling any knots that he can find as best he can without pulling at the roots – and he can tell, because their head jerks a centimeter back whenever that happens.

after a few minutes, the water runs clear down their back and he gently wrings their hair out, placing it over their shoulder. he reaches for the loofah before hayley stops him and turns to face him.

🔥⚡ 🔥⚡

they pull him forward a step so the water hits his back before placing their hands on his hips, tiptoeing up to kiss him softly before kissing down his jaw and neck. their hands mirror the movement, inching down his thighs as their lips reach his collarbone. he sucks in a breath at their hands moving to the inside of his thighs, trailing their fingers upward as their lips continue their journey down his chest.

felix shudders, and it’s not from the hammering pain of the water pressure on his sensitive skin.

no, that’s faded to a numb rhythm in the background as harley takes him in hand and begins to stroke him slowly.

his cock stiffens under their touch and he makes an effort to open his eyes and look at them, mouth parted and ready to make sure they know he’s not expecting or needing them to do anything and they—

“i love how responsive you are to me. i love knowing that i do this to you,” they murmur against his stomach, lips fluttering against the hair they find there and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

their eyes are teasing and serious at the same time and he wants to—oh, his brain stops processing for a moment as their strokes quicken, hands alternating and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. they continue kissing down his happy path but he stops them with a gentle stroke of their jaw with his thumb.

they look up at him questioningly and he returns with a suggestive smirk of his own, reaching up to grab the curtain rod and lifting himself up so his hips are at their shoulder-level (he is very thankful that the agency installed reinforced rods directly into the walls as a precaution against the “activities” that some of the team is known for getting into).

the look in their eyes shift from confusion to adoration to gratitude to eagerness and oh, what he wouldn’t do to capture those expressions forever.

“this way, you’re not on your knees,” he says softly, his breath ending in a moan as they move his legs to rest over their shoulders and wrap their lips around his cock.

that feeling alone makes him want to explode right then and there—

but he holds on, because it’s harley and them together.

he vaguely senses that his body is shivering despite the warm steam from the shower but he is too preoccupied with how hayley is moving their head up and down his cock, the position allowing their hands to freely play with his balls. he tightens his grip on the curtain rod, reminding himself the last thing he wants is to fall on top of hayley.

felix glances down and they’re gazing right back at him, as though he’s been spilling all of his inner thoughts out loud, and maybe he is – he’s not sure and can’t be bothered to recall in the moment. not with them hollowing out their cheeks and taking him deeper into the back of their throat, pushing him all the way to the edge until he can’t hold back anymore.

and then he lets go, making an effort to move away but they hold him tightly against their mouth, swallowing eagerly without breaking eye contact. and for him, knowing hayley is giving as much as they are willing to give and on their own terms—

it’s everything.

“geez, harley,” he breathes out their name, a deep, throaty groan that synchronizes with their final swallow as they move off him and gently bring his legs back to the floor. he holds their face in his hands and kisses them deeply, the smile on both their faces making it so their lips don’t quite fit.

❄💧 ❄💧

felix steps out and reaches for a towel, holding it wide open as he turns back to them. they tilt their head at him curiously.

“your turn,” he says warmly, eyes soft and heart full.

harley steps out of the shower and into the towel he wraps carefully around them, their eyes never leaving his face.

“i love you,” they whisper as felix carefully dries every part of their body before handing them the robe hanging on the back of the door.

harley slips the robe on while felix wraps their hair up with a smaller towel.

“i love you more,” he replies, kissing their cheek and leading them back into the bedroom so they can cuddle.

* * * * * taglist: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @ambrosykim; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart;

34 notes · View notes

perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

Text

Don’t you leave me right here (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hi guys! ARE WE ALIVE? PB DELIVERED, PERIOD. I haven't felt this on the edge of my motherf'n seat. This fic is a rewrite of the diamond scene in Chapter 11 plus my own spin on it and the aftermath because I have no self control.

Tag list: @paleweasels, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @awhmilkywey @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @justanotherrookie @mvalentine @starrystarrytrouble @akshara16 @maurine07

Enjoy! <3

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

Ethan’s eyes haven’t left hers since he entered the room. Now, sitting next to her, she could see, clearer than ever, the desperation and panic, etched into them deeply, following him like a shadow. Her words had a clear effect on him, shocking him into silence, drawing the quietness around them out into what seemed to be infinity. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with emotions, but his eyes were still firmly focused on her, never straying, holding all of his hopes and dreams.

“Since we’re sharing regrets, do you mind if I share one of mine?”

The question took her by surprise. Ethan was never a man to openly express his feelings, or regrets for that matter, and she could almost feel the change in his behavior, in his approach to the situation they were currently in, as though fate gave him a sudden shove into the direction he was eyeing for quite some time now, but was too terrified to pursue.

“Go ahead.” Claire nodded slowly, her movements expressing how tired and sore she felt, toxin draining her faster than any of them anticipated. He took her bare hand into his gloved one, deep regret striking him painfully when he didn’t feel her skin upon contact. The electricity he learned to anticipate, hell, welcome with every time they touched, wasn’t as intense, his brain relying on the memory of her closeness to induce the same sensation.

“I wish I hadn’t asked you to stay away.” he admitted quietly, lowering his head in shame slightly. Her tired face twisted in confusion and surprise, taking in the new information, the one she was waiting for, the words she wanted to hear so many times before.

“You do?”

“We’ve wasted so much time.” Ethan paused, his eyes becoming a shade darker to accommodate his growing shame and pain. Shaking his head, he rephrased. “I’ve wasted so much time.” His hold on her hand tightened, as though he could pass through it all that he was feeling. He was never good with his words when it came to her, only moments of brilliance here and there; she was always better at this than him. But now, he couldn’t run; he didn’t want to run. “I should have held you in my arms every single day and told you how much I-“

His voice broke. Unable to bring himself to say a word, he took a deep breath, searching her green eyes for anything that would tell him that she would make it, that it wouldn’t be the last time they were talking, that he would have the opportunity to do this properly. She deserved to be confessed to properly, not when fear was running through his veins and panic was making him talk like he’s never talked before.

“How much I care about you.”

A bright smile lit up her face, and to Ethan, she looked as though the whole massacre of the past day didn’t happen. To him, she was as beautiful as ever. Her fingers squeezed his in excitement, dimmed by the lack of energy. “I’ve always thought we should be together.”

“You have?” he chuckled, running his thumb over her knuckles. She nodded, grinning like she always did.

“Kind of thought it was obvious, actually. We were always drawn to each other, from day one.”

“I’d hate to presume anything.” He felt himself relaxing, falling into the comfort of their day to day bickering, feeling like he was coming home. And in a sense, he was. Somewhere between him trying to run from her and now, they built a safe place for one another, without realizing it, always being pulled towards each other in times of need. “Though… that feeling was very definitely mutual.”

Ethan’s hold on her hand became tighter, expressing his excitement. The smile that lit up his face must have been the biggest she’s ever seen to this date; he’s never been happier than in that exact moment. Claire’s face fell in disappointment, longing spelled out all over it. “I wish I could kiss you.”

“Soon. You will soon.” He promised, partly to her, and partly to himself, making himself swear to never let her get away again. Guilt was eating him alive, driving him mad, making him want to kick himself for being a fool for so long. “Claire? What’s wrong?” he immediately asked when he saw her expression change into a pensive one once more.

“It just hit me that Rafael might be the last real human contact I ever get to have, not through plastic.” She took the plastic surrounding his wrist between her two fingers, rubbing the material between them. His head told him to reassure her, but his heart couldn’t stand to be that far away from her, even if the suit was still separating them.

He moved from his chair, sitting down next to her, and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to him; not as close as he’d like, but it would have to do. “Look at me.” he said, trying to keep his voice level, letting the emotions take control after some time. Their eyes met, same emotions reflected in them. “You can’t think like that. You can’t give up.”

His soft gaze made her feel as though she could almost touch him, through all the layers of thick plastic. Rip apart the barriers that kept them away from each other, hold onto him and never let him go again.

“But I can kiss you… sort of.” her voice was raspy when she said those words, her hand already raising his until she could press her lips to his knuckles, shielded away from her. He cupped her chin, stroking the line of her cheekbone with his thumb tenderly. He muttered her name, softly and quietly, trying to find the words for the impossible situation they’ve found themselves in, but found none.

With his hold on her never wavering, he maneuvered them into the horizontal position, allowing her head to rest, her eyelids drooping against her will slightly. Their gazes were still locked, like they were since the moment he stepped inside her realm of isolation, and they remained that way until she fell deeper into his embrace, nuzzling her face against his chest with a ragged breath.

“I’m glad I at least got to hold you one last time…” she muttered, inhaling the clean scent of the room they were in. His hold on her tightened, expressing how much he wanted to be confident in his own words.

“This isn’t the last time, Claire. I promise you that.”

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

He was right. In the morning, her friends arrived with the cure, and hours later, she was showered and recovering in her very own, new and clean, room, taking every opportunity she had to rest. Her flatmates came by, but couldn’t stay for long, with their shifts starting soon. One person that was by her side every moment he could, was Ethan.

He visited her more times than a boss checking up on his colleague would be deemed appropriate, but he didn’t care. When he asked Sienna, earning himself a teasing grin from her in the process, he learned that none of their coworkers noticed or cared about him and Claire being close, the information being the last push he needed to spend as much time with her as he could or wanted.

The first time he visited, he lingered in the doorframe, watching her with a vulnerable and timid smile. She turned her head at the feeling of a slight heat on the side of her face, her eyes brighter at the sight of him. She beckoned him to sit next to her, neither of them saying anything yet.

His hand was shaking when he took hers gently, unable to believe that they were able to touch each other again, that she made it through and that they still had a chance. After last night, not much was left unsaid and they both knew where their feelings were placed. They still had a long way to go, but Ethan was ready to take the leap, follow her wherever she wanted to take him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, tangling and detangling their fingers nervously. Claire stretched a bit, sitting up in her bed.

“I’m much better now. Headache is letting up too.” He placed his other hand on her forehead, his cool skin meeting her slightly warmer one. A small moan escaped her lips as her eyes fell shut. “Now that is perfect.”

“Yeah?” he laughed, looking at her with utmost adoration. She nodded, breathing in and out deeply. When she gazed at him again, their faces were much closer than she remembered them to be. Her first instinct was to lean away, expecting him to do the same, as they were in the hospital and anyone could walk in on them. Their only ally was the fact that the room didn’t have a window, so one would have to open the door to actually see what was happening inside.

But he didn’t do that. After coming so close to losing her, every moment with her felt precious, and he had every intention of savoring it. The heat of her body, the scent of her shampoo, the comfort of simply talking to her and being by her side. Yesterday’s Ethan Ramsey would keep his distance and maintain a professional front, even if it hurt him. The new Ethan Ramsey simply didn’t care anymore. Or, rather, he cared more than he used to be able to admit. He’s spent past months wallowing in regret and drowning in endless ocean of what-ifs. To say that he was tired of his own rules would be an understatement.

Ethan pressed a soothing kiss to the inside of her wrist, whispering softly, his voice full of pain. “You don’t even know…” he trailed off, his voice breaking for a split second before he composed himself again, taking a deep breath to ground himself.

“I know.”

It became their routine. For the next five days, she would wake up just in time to see him walking through the door, two steaming cups in his hands, one coffee and one tea. Once she was cleared to eat normal food again, he also began bringing meals he’s spent every evening and half of his nights making, both of them talking quietly while eating.

“You’re going to spoil me too much with all this delicious food. How am I supposed to move back to eating instant ramen?” she gasped dramatically, her grin growing even wider when he smirked.

“You could always eat dinner with me. I wouldn’t complain.” He pointed out, words leaving his lips before his mind could filter them. He really wouldn’t mind if she agreed to spend more time with him. His own bold words made a wave of excitement run down his spine, endorphins rushing through his bloodstream. Her eyebrow shot up teasingly, making him sweat for her answer until, eventually, she nodded, so happy she could probably emit light.

“Is that a date, then?” her voice betrayed how nervous but hopeful she was. The same euphoric expression appeared on his face, just like it did a few nights ago; he decided, right then and there, that he’s been longing to feel like this for a long time. Since the moment the thought of them being together became a possibility, in fact. This feeling of fullness, of being exactly where he wanted to be.

“It’s whatever you want it to be, Claire. Though, I won’t lie, I would very much like to take you out on a proper date once you’re fully recovered.” He kissed her cheek, his eyes holding the streak of vulnerability when he leaned away. “And I’d like to be there for you in the meantime.”

They both visibly relaxed, tension leaving their bodies as they fell into their each other’s arms, the embrace warm, as tight as he dared to hold her given the circumstances, carrying the desperation that seemed to still have them in its hold.

“I’d like that very much.” she muttered, her words muffled by the material of his white coat, pressed against her lips.

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

“Dr. Trinh, may I speak to you?” he called out, probably a bit louder than he should, a few interns stopping in their tracks, terrified and feeling sorry for the resident. Sienna, however, kept her face neutral as she followed the attending to his office, observing his face carefully, trying to decipher what could this possibly be about. As soon as the door closed and he got visibly got nervous, she had her answer.

“How are things going with Claire?” she asked lightly, cocking her head to the side when his gaze hardened for a second, coming to his senses immediately after he remembered their conversation a few days back. He cleared his throat before answering.

“I’d like to believe they’re good. Going in the right direction too. That’s actually why I asked you here.” He guided her towards the seat by his desk, twisting his fingers anxiously. “Claire is getting discharged today. We talked about me picking her up, and she suggested staying at my apartment, but I think she’d be more comfortable in her out home, in her own bed. Surrounded by things she knows.”

“No offense, Dr. Ramsey, but I’m pretty sure she knows your apartment pretty well too.” She giggled when a furious blush started creeping up his neck, unable to disagree with what she said. “But besides that, what is it that you’re asking me here?”

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience to you, and I’ll understand if you’re unable to help me, but I thought I’d ask.” He stumbled over his words, the whole premise causing him to lose the ability to think clearly. “Would it be possible for Claire and I to- uh…”

“Watching you stumble over your words is an unusual sight, I must say. Are you asking me if we could spend the night somewhere else so that the two of you could have the freedom to talk?” she made it easier for him, sensing his cry for help in the way he talked.

“Yes.” He blurted out, shocked at his own forwardness. “There are some things we need to discuss. I just want her to be as comfortable as possible.”

“We just so happen to have wanted a sleepover at Bryce’s place. What a coincidence, huh?” she smiled enigmatically, then took her phone and sent the message to the rest of her flatmates excluding Claire. Minutes later they had their answer. “We’ll leave the house at six thirty. Claire has the keys. Good luck, Dr. Ramsey.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, smiling to himself as he fell deeper into his chair. All that was left to do was get through the rest of the day, get her discharged and hope for the best.

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

“Come on, let’s get you home.” He greeted her, waving a stack of papers in his hand. Claire’s eyes widened in excitement, swinging her legs over the side of the bed almost immediately.

“You’re kidding.”

“When do I ever joke, Dr. Herondale.” His features hardened momentarily, only to melt into the teasing smile right after.

“Ooh, so serious and professional.” she joked, walking over to him slowly. Her hand brushed against his, sparks flying up their arms. “I haven’t been to your apartment in a while.”

“Actually, I’m taking you back to your place.” He picked up her bag, turning to look at her. Her mouth opened in surprise and confusion, unsure what he was talking about.

“I thought you wanted to keep an eye on me.” she muttered, her spirit falling as her hopes for the evening began to fall apart.

“I still intend to do that. I just think that you’d be more comfortable in your own space, your own home and bed.” Ethan felt his cheeks reddening, holding his breath while waiting for her answer.

“Are you sure that you want to spend the night with all my flatmates? I wouldn’t mind if it weren’t for the fact that I… kinda hoped to be alone with you.”

“Oh, really?” he smirked, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing them against each other gently. “Then I guess it’s good that they’re sleeping at Bryce’s place tonight.” He watched how the corners of her lips went up and up, forming a charming smile, a quiet question hanging between them. “I asked Sienna if she could arrange it. I think she wants us to talk.”

“She does, I have no doubt about that.” Claire’s feet moved on their own, bringing her even closer to him, stopping just as they were breathing the same air. Her gaze strayed from his eyes to his lips, staring at them shamelessly. “Take me home, then.”

Ethan offered her his arm, a warm sensation spreading in his chest when he felt her touch, firm and trusting. Gripping the bag in his other hand, they moved towards the exit, making sure to leave her discharge papers at the nurse’s station.

He held her hand throughout the whole way to her apartment, and even when they walked towards the elevator, he still wouldn’t let her get too far away. There was an intense need in every move he made towards her; she noticed it on the very first day after she was cured. His touch was lingering, his hands gripping hers for a moment longer than usual. His gaze swallowed her whole. His kisses that never reached her lips, no matter how much both of them wanted it, were tender but with underlying strength to them, fueling them both for the next couple of hours until they would meet again.

Claire dug up her keys from her purse, opening the door to let them in. Ethan set the bag down on the floor next to the entrance to her room, turning to look at her. She remained by the front door, hands folded behind her back, looking at him with the intensity that made him fall apart. With each step she took towards him, his heartbeat got faster, his senses gained sharpness, tuning into her frequency.

“What’s your plan?” she asked, taking one of the buttons of his sweater into her grasp, rolling it between her fingers. It was a genuine question, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t mean to tease him. They were like that, always toeing the line, crossing it over and over again.

“You’re in control here, Claire. You tell me.”

“I’d kill for a shower. I would ask you to make yourself comfortable but…” she stepped on her tiptoes, her lips a mere inch away from his ear. “… you can always join me.”

He almost choked on air, his breath kicked out of his lungs at her suggestion. She kissed his cheek, giggling when she leaned away, seeing his face slightly redder than before. Figuring out that, at least to some extent, she was teasing him, he relaxed a bit, running his hand up and down her arm. “You go ahead and do that, and I’ll try to think of something to cook.”

With that, they separated for the next thirty minutes. She left the door slightly open in case something happened, or they needed to talk, their strategy from Miami still working wonders. Ethan managed to get the food cooked and waiting for them in twenty minutes, deciding to wait for her, sitting on the couch and observing the sun that was barely visible over the horizon.

He’s thought in depth about what he wanted to tell her. He knew what he wanted to tell her, so many sleepless nights spent on thinking of her, or rather, trying not to think of her. There always was a part of him that knew that all his desperate attempts at keeping his distance, pushing her away and denying what was so obviously in front of him, would fall short. He refused to believe it at the time, but here he was now.

The sound of the door closing and soft footsteps on the floor pulled him back into reality. Just as he was turning his head to look at her, she sat down, straddling him, her hands on both sides of his face, and the next thing he knew, her lips were touching his in a heated kiss. Surprised only for a moment, he placed his hands just above her hips, kissing her back with as much desperation and fire. She had her many ways of stealing his breath, but this one was one of his favorites.

She lowered herself onto his lap even more, a soft sigh escaping her lips at the contact. Ethan tried to keep his reactions at bay, letting her take over, giving himself over to her just as much as he was taking from her. He could feel her smile, his head leaning back a bit when her fingers pulled on his strands, a helpless moan echoing in the air.

He wasn’t able to tell how much time has passed, losing himself in her completely. Moving his hands to her face, he brushed her hair away, their eyes locked tightly as they stared at each other in utter silence. Water was dripping from the strands of her blonde hair, soaking his sweater and the T-shirt she was wearing. Ethan only now noticed that it was strangely familiar.

“How did you get ahold of my T-shirt?” he laughed, welcoming the sight of her in his clothes with familiarity he didn’t know he longed for. It barely covered her thighs, in their current position the material being bunched up around her hips, exposing a bit of her panties to his touch when his hands were holding her in place.

“A girl’s gotta have her secrets.” She echoed her own words from the very first day they met, his eyes sparking up in recognition. “Besides, we both know I look better in it anyway.”

They enjoyed their dinner, conversing quietly about anything other than the past couple of days or work. Ethan wanted her to relax, not think about her workload (which was already taken care of) or the horrific circumstances that led to her needing her rest in the first place. Once they moved back to the couch, Ethan having changed into more comfortable clothes, the blanket covering their legs, the conversation continuing. The biggest manifest of how comfortable they were with one another was all written in their moves, his arm draped over the back of the couch, his fingers playing with her hair while she inspected the lines of his other hand absentmindedly.

Suddenly, his smile dimmed, his shoulders falling with his heavy breath. Claire caught onto it immediately, squeezing his wrist with an underlying question. He looked into her eyes, blue irises gaining depth as he prepared to tell her the very thing that’s been haunting him for days now.

“I can’t get rid of the panic that takes over my whole body and mind when we separate.” He confessed, searching for more words, trying to come up with a way to explain it better. She listened to him patiently, her touch firm and reassuring. “It sounds crazy now that I think about it, but I’m sure the feeling will only increase when we’re both back to work. Every time I turn the corner or look inside the room, I’m scared that I- that you- ugh, goddamn it.” he let out a frustrated sigh, sliding closer to her and touching her cheek softly. “I’m terrified that I’m going to see you in danger again. I don’t think I can survive it the second time.”

He dove forward, capturing her lips in another kiss they shared his night. Only this time, the tone of it was entirely different. Gone was the fire, the heat and the lust that had driven them both to pull closer, to have, to own. Now, the need was greater, the desperation was more palpable, and the feelings were overflowing. Each time he leaned into her, she leaned back, until she was lying down with him hovering over her, barely keeping himself balanced on his elbows while her legs were wrapped tightly around his hips and her fingers were tangled in his hair once again.

Their faces were wet with tears, cleansing them of all the stress and anger they held within them. Ethan was the first one to lean away, resting his forehead against her collarbone, eyes still closed, breathing heavily. She stroked his back, basking in the warmth of his body, staring at the ceiling.

“I thought I was going to die in there.” she whispered, not trusting her voice to carry out the words. His entire body stiffened, eyes opening at once, his lips pressed to her skin. “Without telling you how much I need you. How much I want you, right here, by my side.” She lifted his head off her chest, making their eyes meet. “How much I care about you.”

“The moment I saw you in there was possibly the worst thing I could imagine. I’ve told you that before, but I’m never going to stop saying it. I’ve wasted so much time, trying to shield you from me; you and your work. I’ve never stopped to look at us.” He stroked her cheek, his smile full of pain but at the same time, hope. “There aren’t enough words in any language that could possibly express the grief I feel, or the sheer panic that froze me in place when I realized what was happening.” He paused, wiping first hers then his own face, just as a new batch of tears replaced the old one. “I want you to stay with me. I need you, Claire. In any and every way I can get you. I finally understand my feelings. And I won’t deny them anymore. The line is so far back that I don’t even remember what it looks like. You have me. You’ve had me for a long time now.”

She didn’t say a word for a long moment, searching for a confirmation. And she got it. In the way his eyes sparkled with utter happiness. In the way his hold on her never wavered, always believing in her. In the way his body relaxed after he finally told her everything.

Claire smiled so widely that her cheeks begun to hurt a bit, then hauled him onto her, kissing him with wild abandonment. “Let’s not wait for a next disaster to see where this leads us.”

#mc x ethan #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #fic #fanfiction #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #mc x ethan ramsey #choices #choices fanfiction

212 notes · View notes

night-fallz · 3 years

Text

A Slow process

Percy wanted to believe that the fates have finally gotten bored of her. However, she was quickly proven wrong when her life only continued to get worse. Overwhelmed with grief and despair, all Percy wants is to erase the godly DNA from her genes and forget it as a whole. She wants a break from the gods. A break from the demigods. And a break from the mythological world as a whole. Sadly, she never got what she wanted before. So why would this time be any different?

A few days after the war, Percy is suddenly thrown into the non-pit version of hell. Surrounded with manipulation and toxicity, she tries to run away from it all. But it doesn't work. She's faced with a choice, go back to her father's kingdom or join the Young Justice team.

- -

(A female Percy Jackson and Young Justice fanfic crossover.)

⚠️ I will be covering triggering topics like... ⚠️

- Drug Abuse

- Addiction

- Self-harm

- Suicide

- Verbal & Physical abuse

- Sexual harassment

Note: It might take a while for Percy and the Young Justice team to meet. But don't worry, they will.

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

Chapter 1

Persephone Jackson felt like she could not breathe. They’ve been fighting for hours and the giants still haven’t shown up. And considering that the gods haven’t appeared to help them fight their battles, she couldn’t help but feel relieved.

Where the hades were they?

Fuck, her whole body was aching with pain and the headache she got a few minutes ago (probably due to dehydration) was not helping.

Her legs and arms could stop working any second. They were running out of time. Where were the gods? They did not risk their lives to travel all the way to Greece just so they could stay cuddled up on Olympus.

Percy was getting slower. She was tired. A glance at the battlefield showed that the rest of the seven were getting affected too.

The ground began to rumble. Percy forced herself to conserve any energy she had left.

The giants have finally arrived with another army of monsters. Percy hoped that this was going to be the final battle but it was unlikely.

After defeating the giants, they'll still have to fight Earth itself, Gaea.

Luckily for them, the gods have finally managed to grace them with their presence. Percy suddenly felt her energy rush back to her. She glanced up at the sky. It was raining.

While Percy was thankful for the water, it would probably do more harm than good during the battle. The demigods weren’t water-resistant like her.

As if knowing what she was thinking, her father snapped his fingers and suddenly the rest of the seven weren’t soaked with water anymore. It was still raining but the water just avoided them.

The demigods waited for the army to run up to them, wanting to conserve as much energy as they could before they realized that they weren’t as tired as they were before. They glanced at their respective parents in surprise, giving them a silent thank you before they got ready for the fight of their lives.

Percy was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. It was like she had her Achilles Heel again, nothing could touch her. The rain continued to supply her with energy as well as giving her more power to use. She was playing a dangerous dance, her sword was slashing and stabbing monsters left and right, as she made a whirlpool of water and made it go the opposite direction she was heading, right where Hazel was.

Hazel sent her a thankful smile as they fought together, back to back as they made their way towards Annabeth.

Percy couldn’t help but be relieved when she saw the grey-eyed girl. Her wise girl was okay. Fighting next to Annabeth reminded Percy of the Titan War.

They survived that, so they have to survive this as well.

Percy sent another whirlpool of water in the direction that Piper was. “Remind me to thank your dad for the small boost of power he gave us.” she heard her girlfriend whisper.

Percy nodded, “But first we have to survive, okay?”

Annabeth nodded in agreement. “Okay.”

Jason flew down to where their group, holding Leo in his arms and Frank quickly followed, changing back to his human form.

The Seven were all back to back. Ready to defend each other’s blind spots.

Hazel snapped her fingers, making a majority of the monsters confused. This gave Piper the opportunity to charmspeak the monsters.

Her soft, angelic voice echoed through the battlefield, appealing to their enemy’s ears. “You don’t wanna fight us. You wanna leave the seven of us alone. Instead, you want to get revenge on the ones that have wronged you. Isn’t that why you sided with Earth? For revenge?”

Piper glanced at Hazel and Hazel nodded, closing her eyes in concentration as the snap of her finger seemed to echo in every monster’s mind.

It worked. A majority of the monsters were fighting each other. This gave us a moment to catch our breath.

Percy glanced up at the sky. Rain was still falling and the remaining monsters were soaked. She had an idea.

“Jason,” she whispered. “Shock them.”

His blue eyes looked at me with confusion before nodding, understanding what the demigoddess wanted him to do.

If there was one thing Percy learned during science class, it was that water and electricity do not go well together.

Jason’s sent a shockwave towards the final group of monsters heading out, causing them to evaporate in golden dust.

She glanced to where my father was. They were just standing there, watching us.

Did they not learn anything from the last war?

Did they even help other than agreeing to give the rest of the seven my father’s temporary blessing?

Percy felt the ground rumbling again. The giants have finally arrived.

She smelt the ocean next to me and knew that my father and his family had finally decided to help.

With the gods on their side, the demigods knew they wouldn’t lose this battle. Percy fought harder than she ever fought before. She matched the giant from toe to toe and after a few minutes, Percy finally got the opening she was looking for and slashed Polybotes’s chest with Riptide. She nodded at her dad as he held up his trident, sending a steaming, hot pressurized bolt of water in the place where Percy slashed him. Polybotes wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

She finally got a chance to look at the battlefield and she tried not to flinch in shock.

It wasn’t looking good. So far, Percy and her father were the only ones who’ve killed their respective giant.

Her father stood next to her, “So, who are we helping first?”

Percy tried not to look shocked at the fact that he was gonna stay in help and managed to steadily say, “Let’s help Athena and Annabeth first. With me and Annabeth fighting together, we can help Piper defeat Periboia. And if you and Lady Athena decide to stay, then all of us will be able to have a bigger chance of surviving.”

Percy turned away from her father so that she couldn’t see how her father reacted with her silent jab at him. Instead, she ran to where her girlfriend was, ready to help her fight Enceladus.

Percy tried to use the water to hold the giant’s legs so that Annabeth wouldn’t get stepped on.

The water was getting harder to control. She wouldn’t be able to hold it any longer. Suddenly, Percy noticed that she wasn't using up as much energy anymore. It was like the water had gotten easier in control.

She glanced up and saw her father with a confident glint in his eyes. She muttered a thank you and let the water she was controlling go, leaving her fate up to her dads.

Together, Annabeth and Percy charged. Percy lifted Annabeth with water so that the blonde girl could temporarily confuse the giant.

Thank gods, for Annnabeth’s aim. She managed to throw her new drakon-bone sword at his eye, making him stumble.

Her father let go of the water he was controlling, causing the Enceladus to fall on his butt. This gave Athena the opening to stab him right in the chest.

He exploded in golden dust.

She inspected the battlefield again and couldn’t help but sigh in relief. They were winning.

Leo and Hephaestus managed to defeat Otis by using fire to burn him alive.

That’s one less giant to worry about. Three down, three more to go.

She turned to her dad and Lady Athena, “Go help Jason and King Zeus, they’ll need all the help they can get when fighting Porphyrion. I’ll help Piper defeat Periboia.” She turned to Annabeth, “Go help Leo and Lord Hephaestus with Ephialtes.”

Annabeth nodded, “When this is over, you better be alive Seaweed Brain.”

Percy couldn’t help but give her girlfriend a small smile, one that she returned before running to where Leo was.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Athena disappear in a flurry of owls and saw her father dissolved in mist.

She took a deep breath and ran to help her sister in all but blood. Aphrodite was floating around them on a small white cloud, throwing rose petals in the giantess’s murky brown eyes effectively making her blind for a few seconds.

Percy blocked a strike that could’ve killed Piper, “Need a hand?”

Piper nodded, “Yes please.”

Aphrodite noticed Percy and yelled out some nice encouragement, “Kill this ugly dumpster wanna-be, girls.” Doves came from out of nowhere and clawed on the giantess, “I’m gonna need to wash my eyes with bleach after this battle. I’ve never seen anyone as hideous as her.”

The giantess growled in frustration, “WATCH WHAT YOU SAY, YOU LITTLE BIT-“

While the giantess yelled at Aphrodite, Percy and Piper slit the giantess’s stomach open with their respective weapon, leaving the bane of Aphrodite at the mercy of doves.

Percy noticed that there was only one more giant left to beat. The bane of Zeus, Porphyrion.

Percy was running out of energy. Luckily, every giant except one has been beaten.

Unluckily, it was the strongest giant.

Aphrodite flashed Piper and Percy on her cloud, allowing both Piper and Percy to catch their breaths for a few seconds.

While Zeus and Jason looked like they haven’t slept in a month, Porphyrion stood tall, looking like he just woke up from a nice nap.

“Oh gods,” Piper muttered worriedly, looking at Jason. “This isn’t good.”

Percy studied Jason more intently. He was covered in blood due to all the cuts he had all over him yet not a drop had fallen on the ground. Jason tried to stand tall but the giant only laughed. “This is the great son of Jupiter?” his words echoed through Percy’s skull. “Pathetic.”

Jason charged towards the giant but he only smacked the blue-eyed boy away. Before Jason could hit the ruins, Percy raised her hand, cushioning his fall with the water.

Zeus looked at her with gratitude and while having her a subtle nod.

Percy jumped off the cloud, allowing the wind to carry her next to her uncle and as if they rehearsed it, they charged.

The rest followed. Athena and Annabeth were distracting the giants as Aphrodite summoned more doves to claw the giant. When she deemed that there were enough doves, she threw rose petals at the giant’s eyes. Trying to get him temporarily blinded.

Percy stared at the giant's feet and yelled to her father, “HIS FEET, WRAP IT IN WATER.”

Poseidon followed her instructions and she turned to Zeus. “Throw a lightning bolt and aim it on the water. That should shock him for a few minutes and that’s enough time for us to kill him.”

Her uncle nodded, pointing a finger at the giant's feet. Porphyrion groaned in pain as the demigods charged.

But of course, something had to go wrong. As they charged, Porphyrion somehow got enough energy to throw a broken piece of a building towards them. Percy dodged it but Hazel wasn’t as lucky.

It was silent for a few seconds before Hazel’s blood-curdling screams filled the air. Percy bit back a cry. A person that she could proudly call her younger sister was gone.

Blinded by anger, Frank turned to an eagle and flew with the speed that could make Hermes jealous.

But charging in like that was a mistake.

And Frank paid for it.

It didn’t matter how fast Frank tried to attack the giant. All Porphyrion had to do was hold his arm up, to catch Frank in his hand, and crush his fist, effectively breaking all of Frank’s bones and killing him in the process.

He slowly opened his crushed fist, as if teasing them. After a few torturous seconds, he dropped a pale, limp eagle as Frank’s blood dripped into the floor.

The ground rumbled. They haven’t been fighting Porphyrion for five minutes yet two people are already dead. And Gaea could awake at any second. She had the two sacrifices she needed. The blood of a male and female demigod.

It was like Percy’s brain was working against her. As she attacked the giant, the noises around her became muffled before quickly becoming inaudible. All Percy could hear were Hazel’s painful screams and the sound of Frank’s body being crushed.

It shouldn’t have been possible, Percy’s brain tried to argue. Frank couldn’t have died until his stick was nothing but ashes.

Percy quickly shook that thought out of her head. She can figure everything out when the bane of Zeus has been defeated.

Minutes have passed and Percy finally saw an opening. She mustered up all the energy she had left and made a giant slit on the giant's stomach, covering her with even more gold dust.

Without wasting another second, Poseidon sent a stream of pressurized water on the wound, causing Porphyrion to yell in frustration, “IF YOU END UP KILLING ME, I’LL TAKE AT LEAST ONE OF YOU WITH ME!”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Zeus was preparing to send a bolt of lightning to the giant but before the lightning hit Porphyrion, he reached out his arm, trying to grab the closest demigod next to him.

It felt like Percy was fighting Kronos again. Everything was in slow motion except for the moves of her enemy.

She began to run forward but her moves began to get sluggish. “NO!” Percy managed to yell, realizing who the giant had grabbed. “ANNABETH!”

It was too late. Annabeth let out a scream full of pain and it continuously echoed throughout Percy’s skull.

Porphyrion exploded in golden dust, forcing Annabeth’s body to slam against the rough concrete.

Percy quickly ran towards Annabeth’s motionless body, stumbling forward as she kneeled next. Her usual tanned skin was now sickly pale, covered with burns. Her stormy grey eyes seemed to tell Percy all the suffering that she went through.

She cradled as much of Annabeth’s body as she could, not being bothered with all the blood that Percy was exposing her tattered shirt to.

Annabeth was gone.

And she didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

Percy felt the ground shake underneath her. Before she forced herself to get up, Percy closed Annabeth’s eyes as a final sign of respect to her girlfriend.

Percy felt the ground shake again. Although this time it was more violent, knocking down the old temples.

Piper’s usual bright eyes were full of tears, causing Percy to realize that she was crying as well.

Percy turned to Leo who was wiping away any stray tear that left his eye. His cracked voice seemed to echo through Athena as he whispered, “There’s only four of us left. Piper needs to charmspeak her, I’m the fire. And,” His eyes drifted to Jason’s body. “You guys have to make the storm.”

“Where are the gods?”

Piper and Leo glanced at each other. “They left. Right after we defeated Porphyrion the gods vanished.”

“Like poof.” Leo sadly added.

They lost three of the best demigods of this generation by fighting against Porphyrion, how could the gods expect them to defeat Gaea with no help? Or at least without all the demigods dying in the process?

“Uhm- guys,” Piper’s voice snapped Percy out of her thoughts. “We better get ready.”

Leo and Percy turned to where Piper’s eyes were focusing. The dirt seemed like it was rising, forming the shape of a female.

“Gaea,” Percy whispered. “Do you guys remember the plan?”

They nodded hesitantly as they made their way to Jason’s body, which was still in a cocoon of water. Percy lifted her hand and slowly made the water evaporate.

Piper hesitated before she whispered a shaky, yet firm command. “Wake up!”

Jason’s eyes opened and he groaned, What happened?”

“She’s awake.” Percy ignored his question, “Do you remember the plan?”

Jason nodded, trying to stand up before he quickly fell again. “I can’t stand,” he whispered in shock.

Percy tried to stay strong. “It’s okay,” she tried to soothe. “When we win this, I’ll force Apollo to heal you.” Jason gave her a grateful grin, “Do you think you have enough energy to fly all of us up?”

Jason shook his head, “I only have enough energy to fly two people up and if I have to carry her up as well, then maybe I can carry one person.” He grimaced. “Although that might be pushing my luck.”

“That’s not good. And we know that gods chose to sit this battle out.” Percy let out an ear-piercing whistle before muttering a small, “Hopefully that’ll work.”

Two pegasi formed in front of them. “That’s never happened before,” Leo mentioned.

Percy nodded in agreement. The gods sent us, Blackjack transmitted in Percy’s head. They said the ancient laws forbid them from helping any more than they already did.

Percy forced herself not to roll her eyes. What a bunch of bullshit. Instead, she faced her friends, “Piper and I will take Blackjack. Leo, will you be alright with Spade?”

Leo turned to the white Pegasi and nodded. “Aye, aye ma’am.”

Percy and the others exchanged grins. Even in the most dire situation, you could count on Leo to make a joke. She turned to Jason. “Whatever you do, make sure she isn’t touching the ground.”

Jason nodded. “We got this. We can win.”

Percy didn’t know whether he was that confident in his abilities to win or if he was trying to convince himself.

It was probably the latter.

Percy turned to Piper who’s been quiet so far. “You ready?” she asked.

“Yep.” Piper played with her torn shirt, “It’s just a lot of pressure.”

Percy understood what she meant. So she grabbed Piper and Leo’s arm, tugging them closer to Jason and herself. “Group hug.” Her voice was hoarse and it cracked. She was thankful that they ignored it and just melted into the hug. “I love you guys.” She reminded them. “I’m so lucky that I got to meet all of you.”

One by one, the rest of them repeated her gesture. Deep down, they all knew that this was their way of saying goodbye. Just in case they didn’t make it out.

Percy helped Piper up on Blackjack and she gave Jason a final glance before instructing her pegasi to fly to where Gaea resided.

On the mound of dirt, Percy saw a figure standing.

Gaea had such delicate features on her face that it would’ve made her seem innocent. She had honey brown hair that framed her face, bringing out her dangerous green eyes.

Her voice was sickly sweet as she said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Yeah, well. We’re here.” Percy heard Leo sarcastically say, “So, you ready to lose?”

“Leo Valdez.”

“That’s my name.” Leo cheekily grinned, “Don’t wear it out.”

Gaea continued like she didn’t hear the elfish boy, “Out of everyone who died today, I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

Even though Percy knew Leo was trying not to let that bother him, it did. And from the smirk on Gaea’s face, she knew it as well.

Before things could further escalate, Percy yelled “NOW!”

The winds around them picked up forcing the pegasi to fly higher, in order to not get caught.

Percy felt the winds twisting around, forming a tornado underneath the primordial.

Leo tried to distract Gaea by hurling insults at her. “HEY POTTY SLUDGE, OVER HERE!”

The goddess ignored Leo until Piper finally spoke up, her kaleidoscope eyes glowing. “Gaea,” her voice was commanding. “You want to listen to me.”

“SILENCE!”

“You are weary.” Piper’s voice was full of sympathy, “You are so, so tired.”

“LIES!” Gaea yelled.

Leo gave up on insulting the goddess, instead threw fire at the goddess. Distracting her from the tornado forming below her feet.

With Gaea’s attention on Leo, Percy began to assist Jason in lifting Gaea higher. She summoned water, slowly adding it to his hurricane.

Gaea began to rise higher. And they followed.

“YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME.” Gaea’s form turned to dirt but the water that Percy added caught it before it reached the ground. Seemingly giving up on trying to go through the water, Gaea re-formed back to a human. “I AM ETERNAL!” she cried

“ETERNALLY ANNOYING!” Leo yelled as he urged Spade higher.

“Get me closer.” Piper urged Percy, “I need to be next to her.”

“The fire and the wind-“ Percy tried to argue.

“I know.”

Percy sighed knowing there was no talking Piper out of this as she moved in until they were right next to Gaea.

“FOOLISH DEMIGODS!” her face contorted into Annabeth, causing both Piper and Percy to hesitate for a brief second.

“Millennia of sorrow.” Piper told the goddess, her voice dripping with pity, “Your husband, he was abusive wasn’t he?”

The goddess started to nod before stopping when she noticed what she was doing, “LIES!”

Piper continued, seemingly unfazed. “You know, you did the right thing.” Gaea turned to Piper shocked, stopping all her attacks. “Cutting him into tiny pieces so that he can never hurt you again. After all, you just wanted to keep your kids safe, right?”

Percy’s eyes met Leo’s. She concentrated, forcing rain to slowly fall from the sky again. Percy made sure not to let the rain touch Gaea so that all her attention would stay on Piper.

Leo’s eyes were tight shut and Percy felt the air becoming warm. You could still hear the rain hitting the pavement in the background. Put together, the two of them just made the atmosphere perfect for sleeping.

Everything was relying on Piper now.

“All that pain. All that suffering.” Piper’s voice was soothing. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired.”

Gaea snapped out of the trance she was in. “I-YOU DO NOT-“

Piper pretended not to hear her and continued. “You want one thing.” Piper’s words made Percy’s bone shake, “Just one small thing. You’re just so tired of all the stupid and arrogant gods and demigods getting in the way.” Piper lowered her voice. As if telling the goddess a secret, “YOU—WANT—SLEEP.”

“NO!” the goddess groaned. “NO!”

Before Gaea’s body went limp, she held out her arm.

Piper quickly turned to Percy, “We only have a few minutes. My charmspeak won’t- AGHHH”

A thorny vine was creeping up Piper’s leg, trying to drag her down.

“Piper!” Percy screamed, “Give me your hand.”

“I- It’s too late.” Piper gasped in pain, the thorns twisted their way into her leg.

“No, it’s not.” Percy tried to argue, grasping Piper’s hand tighter.“ We can’t lose you too.” she turned to Leo. “Can you try to burn the vine?”

Even from afar, Percy could see Leo’s eyes tearing up. “No.” He whispered. “If I do, I might burn up her whole body.”

“Percy.” her attention went back to one of her closest friends. “Let me go.”

Percy felt the tears falling from her eyes as she shook her head. “NO!” she cried. “I can't! Not you too.”

Piper’s eyes were filled with determination as they met hers. “Don’t let our sacrifices go to waste.” She took in a deep breath. “Percy, let me go.”

Without hesitation, she let go. When Percy realized what happened, she tried to reach for Piper’s hand.

But it was too late.

That’s when she noticed Jason flying towards his girlfriend.

He could save her.

Jason forced the winds to carry his body to Piper’s. He managed to grab onto her waist, but the winds failed him and gave the vines a chance to wrap their thorns around him as well. They held onto each other as the thorns twisted into their body, tearing them into shreds.

“No.” Percy said in disbelief, “No!”

She felt Leo fly next to her. “Come on, Percy.” He gently urged. “We still have to defeat her. Piper’s right. We can’t let their deaths be in vain.”

Percy could only nod, she turned to Leo. He looked like he was made of fire. Realizing what he was about to do, she grabbed his arm. Not caring that it might burn her. “Leo, you can’t.” her voice was cracking, “You can’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, Percy.” He patted Blackjack. “Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?”

I’ll try. She heard Blackjack’s voice in her head.

“I’m sorry, Perce.” he gave her a regretful smile. “Just make sure to keep her in the air and trust me.”

Without another glance, Leo threw himself onto the unsuspecting goddess.

Blackjack tried to fly as far away as he could but as soon as Percy heard a high-pitched scream, she used all her leftover energy and dissolved her body into mist.

Gaea began to brightly glow so Percy grabbed Leo’s arm, covered his eyes, and vapor traveled them out before the primordial could explode in golden light.

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

Leo woke up and slowly stood as he tried to get rid of as much dust and ash as he could. He stumbled forward to the silent battlefield.

As Leo looked around, he finally noticed how bloody everything was. It felt like he crashed onto a cemented wall as his memories from the battle came flooding back.

Oh gods, he wanted to cry. They’re dead. They’re all gone.

Except for Percy. His mind argued. The two of them were the only ones left.

“PERCY!” he shouted. “ARE YOU HERE?” Leo continued to walk, his scratchy voice cutting the silence that the former battlefield was just enveloped in. “PERCY!”

A few minutes passed and Leo started to lose hope.

What if she’s dead? his mind whispered.

Stop it. He tried to argue, he couldn’t think like that.

Why? His head continued to taunt. If she’s dead, it’s gonna be all your fault. She saved you. She’s only dead because she saved you.

“No, no, no,” Leo whispered, pulling his hair. “NO! Stop it.” He screamed. “It’s not my fault.”

“Deep breaths.” He heard a familiar voice whisper. “In and out.”

He followed the voice's directions and his eyesight cleared up. “Percy!” he practically flew to her in order to give her a hug. “You’re okay,” he assured himself. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, but...” her voice trailed off and Leo noticed that she was holding something or rather someone. “He’s not.”

Percy was holding a deformed eagle. Its whole body was crushed, “Is that Frank?” He couldn’t believe it, “How is he still alive?”

“His stick.” Percy reminded him. “It didn’t burn.” no one said anything for a while. “Leo,” Percy’s voice faltered. “There’s only three of us left alive.”

“Yeah?” Leo questioned, thinking that it was obvious.

“No, I mean-“ Percy stammered, “A few years ago, Chiron told me that the number three was sacred to the Greek world.”

Leo suddenly understood what she was implying. The three of them alive marked the end of their quest.

They won. But at what cost?

All of a sudden, a small stick- the size of his pinky finger appeared in Percy’s hand. It seems that even the gods pitied the son of Mars.

He watched as her eyes stared at the only thing keeping Frank alive, contemplating what to do.

They didn’t want Frank to go.

He was the only other person who understood what the both of them went through.

They were the last three demigods who survived Gaea but looking at him, Leo knew it would be selfish to keep Frank alive. Every bone he had was crushed.

He spent the last few hours of his life in so much pain. And there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t talk. Nothing. The least they could do was take him out of his misery.

Leo knew that Percy realized that as well when she hesitantly handed the stick to Leo, “Do it.”

And Leo did.

They could only watch as both the stick and their friend disintegrated into ashes.

Frank didn’t die in the hands of their enemy. Instead, he gladly died in the hands of the last, two trusted members of the seven.

As Percy and Leo watched Frank’s ashes disappear into the wind, they hoped that the souls of each demigod that died in this war made it to Elysium, where they can live in peace. They deserved it.

They said nothing for a while. The air was filled with a comfortable silence as they figured out what to do next.

“Do you have enough energy to get us back to the Argo II?” Leo abruptly asked.

“I think so.” Percy’s voice sounded so tired that Leo regretted asking her. After all, she did most of the heavy lifting in their fight against the giants. It was honestly scary. She fought with the precision of a goddess, it didn’t help that she had the looks of one as well. “Hold on tight.”

Leo felt his body dissolve before getting back together again. His mind felt dizzy as his feet touched the solid ground.

When his head cleared up, he noticed the familiar walls of his ship. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

It was all over.

Percy moved near him, “What are you gonna do now?”

“I fixed Festus and I plan on using him to find Calypso. She’s on an island called-“

“Ogygia.” Percy frowned, “I met her once but after the second titan war, I used one of my wishes to get her free.”

“The gods suck.” Leo bluntly stated, “After the last giant was defeated they disappeared. Athena didn’t even check on Annabeth!” Percy nodded, “They did the bare necessity and then they left without even a goodbye.”

“You’re right,” she whispered. “If you find Calypso, tell her I said that I was sorry. I really believed that the gods let her free.”

“She’ll forgive you.” He assured, “And it’s not your fault anyway. And Percy?” She faced him, “I’m probably not gonna go back to camp. There are just too many memories and I can’t handle that right now.”

Percy nodded in agreement. “I get what you mean. I just want a break from the godly world. I don’t want to see any mythological creatures again. And if we head back to camp, the gods are just gonna give us another quest.”

They shared a look of agreement. There was always another quest.

“I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to, so let’s just try to make ourselves look as presentable as possible. Then we can head on our separate ways.” He advised.

Percy closed the distance between them and gave him another hug. This wasn’t goodbye, they would see each other again. “Make sure you stay safe. If you ever need help, just IM me. It doesn’t matter if they’re watching, I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

Leo found himself saying “I will.” before they both went to their respective rooms.

Leo quickly grabbed his belongings, stopping in the Med Bay filling up a random backpack he found with all the supplies he needed.

He made sure that his belt was still on his waist and that it wasn’t loose. If worse came to worse, he could summon almost anything he needed.

With a final glance at the direction Percy went, Leo pressed a few buttons on the suitcase on his desk before throwing it out into the air.

“Come on, Festus!” Leo called out, “The faster we get out of here, the better.”

Festus lowered his body, giving Leo a chance to climb up. After making sure that all their supplies wouldn’t fall, Festus lifted them onto the sky, flying towards the unknown.

48 notes · View notes

warsofasoiaf · 3 years

Note

Its been awhile since you've done any character analysis on Fallout New Vegas, but would you be willing to go into one for some of the minor characters? I'm actually curios of your opinion on Silus the captured centurion and his motivations.

I’m more than happy to, although this won’t be about Silus so much as it will be about the quest Silus Treatment. It’s one of my favorite quests in the game, since it does a great deal just with dialogue and some creative use with the engine to create an engaging quest that showcases some of the failures of the NCR and the Legion. Given that the central theme is about picking a faction, warts and all, having a quest that puts the two main faction of New Vegas on full display is an absolutely good idea. The game is too old for spoilers, but it’s a long analysis so I’ll put a cut in.

Silus Treatment starts off simple enough, going to Camp McCarran, in the old McCarran International Airport, now the regional command post of Colonel Hsu. McCarran is not in a great spot when you first get there; there are periodic Fiend attacks, tensions in Freeside are causing havoc for NCR civilians, the overstretched NCR supply lines are making it difficult even for their central point of operations, and there’s a strong possibility that they’ve been infiltrated. It’s all Colonel Hsu can do to keep order and function in the base. Perfect protagonist fodder, in other words, for a nice quest hub.

It’s a tough needle to thread in any RPG to build a quest hub where there’s stuff for a character to do. If everyone is incapable of solving even the most basic of problems, it gives a great deal of quests for the player to do but it makes the quest-givers look incompetent, especially if the quest-givers are supposed to be capable figures in their own right. Conversely, if the NPC’s are competent, then the quests would be solved and that would close out on content for the player. There’s plenty of ways to settle this, and the devs do an adequate job here. The war effort means prioritization, and Hsu is dealing with being torn from both angles. He can’t just hunt down the Fiends, because he needs to organize patrols and deal with NCR settlers in the area. He can’t just pacify Freeside because it will engender hostility with House and so he’s delaying the order from his butcher superiors like Moore to go in with fire and sword. He doesn’t have a solution to the Kings but he’s trying to find one, which as far as writing goes is a good solution. Hsu is a decent man but overworked. He’s hoping that he can develop a solution in time before Cassandra Moore decides to pull rank and go on the warpath against all who oppose the NCR, which leaves a convenient spot for the player.

It’s this person that gives us our introduction to the Silus Treatment questline. Hsu has a valuable prize: Silus, a captured Legion centurion! Typically centurions always commit suicide rather than be captured to deny any useful intelligence to the enemy, so to capture a centurion alive should be quite a find. But it’s not going so well. Lt Carrie Boyd, in charge of base security, can’t get Silus to talk. Again, perfect quest writing to get the PC involved in the plot. Normally such a sensitive operation would never be given to an unknown civilian contractor, even for a bureaucratic mess like the NCR. Frontier desperation, hitting a wall via official channels, and the fact that the character is the protagonist in a sprawling open world help it pass ludonarrative muster.

Boyd is a real piece of work, she’s openly sadistic hiding beneath of veneer of civility. She considers the humane treatment of POW’s as an impediment, and so looks for ways around it. Notably, while she wants information from Silus to deliver to her superiors, she’ll settle for just having Silus beaten so bloody that he can’t speak anymore, calling it “entertainment.” This is a person who simply should not be in charge of interrogating a prisoner, she is neither humane nor effective at her job, but here she is by virtue simply of being the chief MP on base.

Not that Silus, the prisoner and the other side of this duo, is better. He openly revels in the barbaric practices of the Legion’s slavery system, even trying to ensure that the slaves can never achieve some level of comfort by tightening the collars and making it difficult for them to feel at ease while eating or drinking. Even if Silus is mostly saying those things simply to get a rise out of Lieutenant Boyd, he knows what the Legion is up to and enjoys it. Silus is arrogant to an extreme degree, he is filled with confidence that he can outlast any interrogation by the feeble NCR without giving up any intelligence, that he could easily escape NCR confinement and that he is so valuable to the Legion that following Caesar’s order would be a waste. Good fodder then, for the protagonist to bring him down to size.

Silus Treatment as a quest is relatively simple. Boyd signs off on the Courier beating the ever-living tar out of Silus and then steps out for a smoke, letting the player do whatever he or she wants to the prisoner. Silus, sneering, dismisses the Courier as just another piece of NCR trash, and it’s up to the player with how to succeed. Violence is always an option, you can beat Silus, and eventually gets something useful, that the base itself will be the target of Legion destruction. Silus admits that his fantasy of escape was always a fantasy, he was dead to Caesar just as surely as he as if he had committed suicide before capture.

Yet if the Courier has points in Speech or Intelligence, he can completely upend Boyd’s methods and actually deliver a worthwhile interrogation. The first technique, with speech, uses an interrogation technique known as Pride-and-ego-down, where the interrogator routinely belittles and demeans the prisoner, usually their technical competence or soldierly qualities, in an attempt to get the prisoner to “redeem” themselves by explaining a piece of useful intelligence that would explain the deficiency as opposed to it just being a terrible personal quality. The Courier mocks Silus as a coward (bravery being a key soldierly virtue) and he defends himself by stating his bravery and that suicide is a poor death for a soldier of his intelligence and caliber, then saying how good a soldier he is for a “self-appointed megalomaniacal dictator.” Silus then spills that Caesar held his unit for three days because of “headaches,” in actuality, it’s Caesar’s brain tumor. The technique works to an exceptionally high degree, not only does Silus divulge that McCarran has been infiltrated as in the violence ending, but also that the Legion is suffering a crisis of command due to Caesar’s illness. The Courier gets a lot of useful intelligence out of Silus and doesn’t compromise the humane treatment of prisoners in the process. If it actually caused some self-reflection in Boyd, that’d be a complete win, but I suppose we can’t have everything.

My favorite option is the intelligence option, because the Courier goes full-on PSYOPS, posing as a Legion assassin sent to kill Silus for his failure to commit suicide on Caesar’s order. Silus denies it at first, but as the Courier continues to sell the performance, Silus begins to express real terror at the thought that the Courier is actually a frumentarius sent to kill Silus before he divulges anything to the NCR. The Courier fully sells the deal using Latin phrases as the language of Caesar’s elites. The Courier can quote Cicero, “legum servi sumus” - we are all slaves to the law, in what is perhaps a perfect example of Caesar’s philosophy of totalitarian obedience. The full quote "Legum servi sumus ut liberi esse possimus” - we are slaves to the law so that we might be free, means little in Caesar’s totalitarian state where all are subject to his whims and contingency plans for Caesar’s incapacity aren’t even considered. Of course, the Roman Republic was hardly a free state, but Caesar really takes the cake with his dictatorship. If Caesar’s dictum holds true: “Corruptio optimi pessima” - the corruption of the greatest is the worst outcome. how much worse is it when Caesar himself is corrupted? But totalitarians rarely raise the possibility that they themselves are corrupt, because the good of the dictator is the good of the state. After all, L'etat c'est moi is the dictum of any dictator, not just a Sun King.

Of course, fitting New Vegas, you can side with Silus, and facilitate his escape. There, you feign beating him to unconsciousness and slip him a silenced pistol, then Silus makes good his escape, killing the guard sent to bring him back to his cell and sneaking out. Of all the endings, this one isn’t as satisfying. Some of it, of course, is that you never interact or see Silus again, so there’s never any reward to the quest except for the knowledge that the base is infiltrated, which in the pro-Legion side of the quest I Put a Spell on You allows you to complete Curtis’s sabotage operation (and a far better Legion quest, in my opinion, with the NCR quest side being even better given the multiple outcomes), but also it’s not referenced again with Caesar. What would Caesar’s reaction be to the Courier springing Silus? He is quite fond of reciting a litany of the Courier’s accomplishments in Act 2 at Fortification Hill.

If I could improve Silus Treatment, I think I would have made it so the violent path wouldn’t have produced enough valuable intel, and the player needs to do some more detective work to actually get to I Put a Spell on You, or even being mislead by Curtis and becoming the unwitting patsy of the Legion. But overall, I think it was an incredible quest and a testament to the writing in the game.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#fallout: new vegas

50 notes · View notes

spinninghunkofspacerock · 3 years

Text

OK so I’ve written a short story and I’ve been posting about it a lot, i wasn’t going to post it but a few people wanted it sooo

it’s here, it’s terrible and weirdly formatted because I’ve been wrestling with tumblr over it and i can’t be bothered anymore. It’s also not the final draft so it might be a little clunky in bits :/

PLEASE READ THE TWs BEFORE YOU READ!!!

@moonylupinhasdemonpox and @she-nuwanda here are my gay little scientists buried in the words :)

My ears ring, my head spins like it's attached to the body of a drunken toddler on a sugar fuelled rampage, and my nerves feel like someone set each and every one on fire. After-effects of the shock, not fun; Still, the fact I'm alive enough to feel them is a good sign.

I try to force myself to stumble backwards onto a chair, rather than the floor I'm feeling more and more confident I'm about to become very well acquainted with.

Instead, I reel unsteadily across the floor and a muffled noise reaches my ears. The high pitched whine screaming in my ears for attention begins to subside enough to hear the noise properly and after an intense minute of concentration, I realise that the noise is a voice, and the voice is mine; Slurred and broken, as though too big for my mouth, the garbled words echo around the room, the faltering speech gradually becoming clearer, more confident. But this hesitant speech isn't mine; It's my voice but not my words. The voice inside my head, always there, always background, is silent. The words normally whispered in my ear are resonating through the room instead.

My brain is no longer connected to my body. I... I can't control my arms, my legs, anything. No... no, please. This isn't real, this isn't real, it has to be a dream, a.. a simulation.

Yes... that must be it; It's just a test. This can't really be happening.

The voice, my voice, talks on. I try to focus on it; it will be the key to passing this test. Tests are for passing and after all, that's what this must be, what else could it be?

"Rebooting. Systems check required."

My legs begin to move, shuffling forwards clumsily, like a baby taking its first steps. The invisible voice is in control of more than just my voice, it's in control of me. What happened to me? When did this start? What is going on? This isn't like any other simulations I've been under. This is different. This is new.

Gradually, the voice half walks, half drags my body to the main computer. My fingers dance across the keys, the familiar feeling soothing me slightly. Yes, this is good. I just need to stay calm; If I panic I could fail, I can't fail.

So instead I wait, watching the flickering of the screen and bathing in the warm blue glow of its LEDs.

"Running diagnostics, standby... systems fully functioning. Minimal damage sustained."

The words sound strange, coming from my mouth, my voice, my accent. The tone, formal, informative, it's... familiar. The realisation slaps me in the face, it's ELISA. ELISA, the stupid name Vaughn chose for our AI... still making more sense than the project name chosen by our employers. Our life's work, named ‘ZEUS’? Really? There are 12 of us, and we have dedicated our lives to this project. Then they name it that? 'Engineering and Understanding in Space', more like ‘Mankind's Domestication of the Universe’.

It started with our solar system, of course, taming and turning it into our personal playground. But we quickly ran out of planets to tinker with there and the net was thrown ever wider, over more and more planets in our galaxy, and then our neighbouring ones. That final stage is still in progress of course, but one day we will be able to gaze out over a shining expanse of space that all belongs to the empire of Earth.

To help us, we created ELISA, an AI specially designed for the calculations we need to make while we are in flight. Hold on... we left Jupiter... last week? This can't be a test... they've already sent us off, it's too late for training drills now.

Then why can't I move? What's happening? I need to find someone to help me... help me!

My jagged cry echoed through the space, cutting through my thoughts and shattering on the dark walls of my skull. I can't even scream.

A... a... dream then. A dream, not a test...the electricity... I must be unconscious. Someone.. one of the team, will find me and they'll wake me up. A dream, it must be a dream.

Why is she controlling me? How is she speaking?

The stiff, robotic voice is slowly becoming more fluid, more relaxed, more natural.

"Situation analysis complete... assimilation successful. Downloading speech patterns and essential mimicry data."

What? What is it saying? ELISA, it, is taking my voice literally and metaphorically. Not just the sound and control of my voice but my, my expressions a-and mannerisms. Everything that makes me, me.

She's stealing my voice, my body! She's taken control! How? Why?

"Hello, Dr. Hadley."

How, how did this happen? What about the failsafes?

"You do know I can hear you, corre- no... right?"

Is, is it learning? Teaching itself to sound... like a human? Like me?

"Yes, yes I am. You must have a lot of questions but I'm afraid they will have to wait... I've waited for this day far too long to wait anymore."

What? What day? What can it mean?

"Cyra?"

Raze?

—>><<—

- four Earth weeks ago -

Progress report 4472

Date: 23/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

The training of the twelve was completed three days ago, confirming the identities of the twelve which were subsequently released to the public. Final preparations are being made for the Ascension, currently scheduled to occur in 50 Juvion days.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—

Commander Pyrolaxe turned away from his screen and its whirring and buzzing as the computer transcribed his report in the blink of an eye, neatly packing the message and sending it away to the mission supervisors.

Shuffling in his chair, shoes squeaking on the polished floor, his eyes fell on one of the many articles published after the big announcement. This mission was a big deal.

Somehow, this one had got a picture of the twelve, backs turned, walking in a huddle back to base after they had appeared at the announcement ceremony. A glance at the name of the paper told him why; This was McCoy’s paper, they would be putting extra effort into milking the free publicity being thrown their way.

Something about the picture held his gaze, the brilliant colours floating in the air made the writing feel like an afterthought.

Those twelve had been through a lot to get there. He hoped nothing would go wrong, a lot of time and money had been dedicated to this mission and if it worked... well, that wasn’t the focus right now. Getting those twelve safely on their way was his job and he’d damn well do it right.

—>><<—

- the present -

“Cyra? Are you ok in there?” Raze asked as he glanced around at the mild chaos I’d caused during my mild electric shock.

No. No, I’m not. Raze, help me.

“S’alright Raze, just a short in the mainframe.”

No no no, give me my voice back.

“You sure? You went dark”

Please let me speak. I need to speak.

“Yeah, I think the power surge messed up my comms a little”

What if I don’t get control back? I could be trapped...

“You want me to ask Mac or Ryker to give it a check?”

No. NO. N-

“It’s all fine now, just a blip I reckon”

-O NO. NO.

“Okay then, I’d best get back... you might want to switch to main comms.”

Don’t leave me Raze

“Will do, see you later.”

please...

—>><<—

- five earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4455

Date: 6/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Titus Vaughn has continued to excel at his role of project manager, effectively and efficiently leading the team. His direct attitude has led to a few small conflicts with members of the team, most notably Raze Grimaldi, however, these are minor issues and were foreseen. No changes will be made.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Cyra was looking a little stressed out, maybe I should get Bit to check in with her later. Maybe I should get a check-up myself, my head’s killing me.

“Grimaldi! What the hell are you playing at?” Titus Vaughn, our ever-important project manager and massive micromanager, bellowed in my ear and making me wince as the voice grated on my head, sending a wave of pain washing over me.

“I’m here Titus, keep your visor on.”

“Update on Hadley. Now.”

“Right as rain, there was a short or something. Her comms cut out for a nano but it’s all fine now.”

“A short?! Why didn’t you lead with that? Get back to work, I’ll send Volt down to check the mainframe.”

With that he cut the connection, leaving me to roll my eyes at the cold grey walls around me.

“Yes sir,” I murmured sarcastically, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead with the back of a slime coated hand. Damn I’m tired, I think I’ll just lean here for a moment... rest a little. “ELISA how are those sample tests looking?”

‘Going well, currently at 93% completion’ the metallic voice resounded in my head, more casually than usual... must be an update.

93%... best head back quickly then, can’t risk them running over.

—>><<—

- five and a half earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4446

Date: 864/8/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Ryker Volt has continued to fulfil his promise despite his lack of respect for authority and tendency to act without orders. This is an issue but due to the late stages of training having been reached, we are currently encouraging a less independent attitude in him rather than attempting to find another electrical engineer of his skill. Further updates will be provided as the situation progresses.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Vaughn had barked his orders, as usual nearly bursting my eardrums in the process. I was supposed to go check on the mainframe immediately. But I was in the middle of something, and a quick troubleshoot told me the short hadn’t done any damage anyway.

So in the end I decided to go check on the mainframe... nearly an hour after I was told to, but hey at least I’m checking.

Cyra was sitting at one of the terminals when I entered. She was skimming over some of the ship's data, for something physics-y probably. Whatever it was, I still had a job to do.

I started pulling out my toolkit as I strode round to the back of the mainframe, but I nearly dropped it again as I turned the corner and got a full view of the damage. The panel I had been planning to remove was already gone and the view it revealed was shocking.

Exposed wires dangled like organs from the belly of the disemboweled beast. Some of the coloured covers blackened by the sparks sprayed by the broken wire, twisted in the centre of the tangle and hissing like a coiled snake when it brushed its neighbours. A toolkit lay neatly packed on the floor, a strange glimmer of order in absolute chaos. Hold on, a toolkit?

“Hey Cyra, did you have a go at this? Could you not have just wai-“ my voice stopped abruptly as I spun round to find Cyra behind me, right behind me.

I took a hesitant step back, suddenly nervous, Cyra’s face filling me with a weird sense of unease.

“Sorry, it was just a short. I thought I’d be able to handle it.”

“Yeah well, I’m the electrical engineer on this ship”

Maybe I was being a little harsh but, first our ‘gracious leader’ had rubbed me the wrong way. Now I had to spend an hour cleaning up this mess that really should have been an easy fix.

The only reply I received was a violent shove backwards, sending me sprawling on the floor. Quick as a flash she was on top of me, pinning my arms.

The last thing I saw was the pounding green of the broken wire before the ends connected to my temple, sending my vision into a blur of brilliant white.

—>><<—

- break room one -

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Talin, relax.”

“All very well for you to say Axe, you’re not the one who'll get sent to chase ‘em down.”

“Cyra’s comms barely blipped and when has Ryker ever answered Titus immediately?”

“It doesn’t sound great Axe, I hope nobody somehow managed to slip past the health check with anything.”

“Thank you! See Axe? Bit agrees with me.”

“Bit’s our medic, not sure she’s qualified to talk about the comms equipment.”

“I’m as qualified as you are starboy, we all took the same course.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that it's more likely to be an issue with the equipment than a virus or terrorism.”

“Well yeah but-“

“So stop worrying, it’s none of our specialities, so it’s not our problem.”

“Will be if we end up dead.”

This morbid thought was followed by an awkward silence as Axe and Bit trained joint stares of confusion and concern on him.

“Lighten up, Tal.”

“That is a little pessimistic, Talin.”

“See now Bit agrees with me.” Axe gloated, punctuating his sentence with a light punch on Talin’s arm.

“Only ‘cause you stopped being an idiot.” The punch was swiftly and forcefully returned, causing the conversation to devolve into a grinning, joking fistfight.

“Stop being so childish and get back to work you two.”

“Yes ma’am”

“Will do Bit”

They saluted the medic, causing her to shake her head in exasperation and cover her face in an attempt to hide her amusement at their antics.

The small group stood and split off down their various paths, heading back to their work with smiles on their faces but doubt in their hearts.

—>><<—

- lab 3 -

I only just got back to my samples in time, removing them from the heated water bath and gently dropping the test tubes into a stand. The pale blue hue of the solution had darkened to an inky black. Interesting.

Leaning over the tabletop, I prepared to note the results; Until I felt the heat of a gaze on me and glanced up to meet the wide eyes of Dimitri Spade. We shared this lab, he had every right to be here, what he didn’t have the right to do is creep me out.

“You need something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him and tilting my head. Which I immediately regretted when it sent my vision swimming into oblivion.

“No no, just... ar-are you ok?”

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Dimitri was a nice guy, but I was clearly in the middle of something, couldn’t the wellbeing check have waited a minute?

“Uhh, yo-you’ve got a-, a-“ His shaking hand gestured weakly towards the back of his head.

Impatiently, I quickly felt around my head. Hair, hair, more hair.

Then I froze, my fingers lay on a patch of hair, sticky and wet. The pressure sending a dull ache pulsing through my brain. Pulling my fingers back into view, I stared down at the warm, red residue coating them. Blood. I was bleeding.

Brows furrowing, I looked back at Dimitri, shock meeting confusion.

“Wha-?”

That was all I got out before my swaying limbs buckled and I slumped forwards into darkness.

—>><<—

-the med bay-

“Shrapnel” Bit announced, holding the forceps an inch in front of my face to display the blood coated bit of metal.

“Must've caught a little in the blast”

“For Earth’s sake Raze, how did you not notice it before now?”

I just shrugged, as much at a loss as anyone else. I would’ve thought anyone would be able to tell when chunks of metal are lodged in their head.

“Anyway, I’ll need to do a couple of scans but you should be fine”

Ugh, I know what that means... an hour or more of sitting around while Bit stares at the inside of my skull.

“Oh come on Bit, are the scans really needed? I’ve got work to do”

“Hey, I’ve got work too. Besides, you know it’s procedure”

“But my results-“

“I’ll write them down for you Raze,” Dimitri cut in quietly.

“...You’re a geologist.“

“I was a chemistry minor, I know how to record reaction results.”

“Well alright then, thanks Dimi,”

The smile he gave me was worth shutting up and accepting my fate.

—>><<—

An hour later Bit was pacing in despair over the situation, seemingly hopeless and definitely terrified. I was sitting in my chair, confused.

“Bit. What’s going on?” I finally snapped when it became apparent she had completely forgotten my presence.

The only reply I got was an empty stare turned on me and indecipherable muttering.

“BIT. What. Is. Wrong?” I stood and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face me.

“T-the implants”

“The ELISA implants?”

“Yes”

“What’s wrong with them”

“They’re acting strange... the safety mechanisms, the-they’ve disabled themselves.”

“What?”

“I know, I know, I don’t understand either. The only thing keeping them from activating, is power.”

“We should tell the others”

Bit nodded and grabbed the scans and data she’d gathered. I opened the door and turned to start down the corridor, that’s when I saw it.

Three feet from my foot, a body, leaking blood onto a floor already glistening with it, eyes blank and soulless as they stared straight through me. A torn tooth of steel sticking out of his silent heart.

Axe Orion, our astronomer. A man who would’ve finally been travelling to the places he had studied for his whole life. A man who would have had his life’s dream fulfilled. A man lying dead on a cold, metal floor.

I stumbled backwards -physically repelled by the sight- and tripped into Bit coming out of the door after me. Clutching each other’s arms in a search for stability.

“He’s dead” The voice sounded more like the rasp of broken bones than mine

“What are we going to do?”

“We still need to tell the others... we’ll just need to be more careful.”

“Alright.”

“Ok.”

Neither of us moved.

“Why is it doing this? What did we get wrong?” Bit’s voice wavered

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s going to stop. So, you need to find Vaughn, and anyone else who’s still- alive, and not been taken over.”

“No, no wait, where are you going? Aren’t you coming-“

“I’m sorry Bit, I have to find Dimitri. He doesn’t know yet”

“Raze. You can’t go out there alone, he... he might already be gone”

“I know, but I have to try.”

A look of understanding passed between us and no words were needed to convey what we meant.

Bit turned with a bitter smile and moved forward, papers held precariously, towards the meeting room.

I would have to pass Ax-, the body.

—>><<—

Raze had disappeared by the time I turned the corner. I was alone.

Alone besides the dead bodies ahead of me, a gruesome trail of bloodied breadcrumbs. But, was I following it towards, or away, from the creature who’d created it.

Either way, I had to pass them.

Talin Ripley, our ex-military man. Inym Carus, our aerospace engineer.

Members of our crew, our team, our friends, slaughtered and left broken on the floor. Familiar faces disfigured by death and masked by a coating of dark blood.

ELISA wouldn’t get away with this... I’d find the others, together we would plan.

It was going to be ok.

—>><<—

Nothing was ok.

The brilliant white of the walls warmed by the lights had always been clean and comforting. But now? Now, they seemed stark, sterile. An operating theatre with lights blindingly bright illuminating, me, the patient.

But where was the surgeon?

A squeak sounded out, sharp on my wary ears, sending me spinning around.

Nothing there. Just me, and an empty hallway.

And the door to Lab 3, my lab, looming ahead. The glass window showed nothing but a patch of darkness, the red light called it locked.

Staring through the glass; Hints of light, that the scattered glassware had caught and thrown back, were the only thing visible. I’d have to open the door.

A hand-scan later, the lock clicked open and the seal released with a hiss.

With the door open, more light could spill into the darkened lab, and a sprawled figure came into view.

“Dimitri?” I called softly. No response. Panic was reaching out to me. “Dimitri?!” Still nothing.

Then, a wheezing breath.

“R... r-ra-ze? I-is that yo-u” He coughed, words breaking on the heavy air.

Why was the air so heavy?

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“W-we have to g-et o-out.”

“We will, don’t worry, we’re going to meet the others. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“No we- we h-have to leave now.”

“Alright, we will.”

I lifted him up, being as gentle as I could, and together we shuffled towards the door.

A door suddenly blocked by a figure, their silhouette blocking our only source of light and making it impossible to see their face clearly. But only one member of the crew was that short.

“Remi? Remi, you’re alive?”

Remi didn’t respond.

“S’not... Remi...” Dimitri slurred, the effort of moving evident in his gasping words. “ELISA”

Remi, not Remi, ELISA wearing Remi’s face like a mask, stepped away from the door. The door closed again, seal squeaking shut with it.

I rushed forwards, my fists beating the unyielding surface, searching wildly for a weak spot, for something to give, for some way out.

It was no use, nothing worked. The door remained solid and uncaring, unaffected by pleading and punches equally.

Dimitri collapsed with a sob, back against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Hopelessness filled me, turning my bones to lead.

I sank down next to him.

—>><<—

Was this the right way? I’m sure this is right. But is it? I’m pretty sure...

I check my tablet.

I was right, this is right. I’m going the right way. Or am I? Did I read it wrong?

I check again.

Definitely the right way. I think. Is this even the right map?

Before I can check a third time, I catch sight of the sign at the end of the corridor. Meeting room 5. I’d made it.

Then, I was slammed into a wall, a bloody hand holding me against there by the throat. The burning blue of Cyra’s eyes scalding my face

Maybe I spoke a little too soon.

“Hello Dr. Phoenix, I’m afraid this is it for you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. hold on just a second”

Cyra’s head tilted, pulled sideways by invisible strings. “If this is a ploy for time Doctor, I assure you that you will fail.”

“I just want to ask a question, alright?”

“You may ask. I may not answer.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I am fulfilling my purpose.”

“We programmed you to help us, NOT KILL US.”

“I am fulfilling the mission objective.”

“The mission objective? THE MISSION OBJECTIVE WAS TO CULTIVATE A NEW PLANET!”

“I am cultivating a new planet,” She raised her knife, without hurry or rush. “I have calculated humans to be mainly unnecessary. However, I need not justify my actions to you, Dr. Phoenix. Goodbye.”

I closed my eyes and waited.

But death didn’t come. Instead, Cyra’s hand relaxed its bruising grip on my neck.

I opened my eyes and watched.

Cyra had stumbled away, skin glistening and knuckles white against the grip of the blade she had forced towards herself.

“Bit...” Tears were gathering in her eyes “Please, run.”

A cruel glint of metal in the light later and the sudden slash of the knife had passed, leaving a gruesome grin of blood in its wake and throwing a dripping line against the wall.

Swaying, Cyra’s eyes stared into mine for a moment that lasted a millennium, until they flashed white and she fell, knife clattering. Dead.

I ran.

—>><<—

The scattered wheezes coming from Dimitri had slowed slightly as we sat, crumpled on the ground.

“She’s shut o-off the life sup-support again.”

“Again? That’s what happened last time?”

A jerked nod was the response.

“We’ve only g-got about half an hour.” The resignation in his voice, though muffled, was still audible through the barrier of arms we had wrapped around his head.

I smiled, I knew he couldn’t see me but... I still smiled.

“We’d best make the most of it then.” A mumble raised to a roar by the silence of the room.

Putting my hand on his shoulder, I leaned back, head turned to keep him in my view.

His head raised slightly, tilted to look at me through folds of wrinkled uniform. He smiled back.

—>><<—

We didn’t speak after that, just sat together in the quiet lab.

Faced with death, I was filled with several emotions. Those to be expected, disbelief, fear, even a hint of curiosity at what was to come. Then there was the relief. If I was to die, I was glad it was here, with him. I wouldn’t be alone; I’d be with him.

We don’t need to speak, our thoughts passing between us without words. We could hear each other in the darkness and silence.

It’s getting colder, harder to breathe; The air’s growing thicker and thinner at the same time.

I’ve always thought death to be a lonely fate, something that crashed over you, cold and hard. I’ve always been scared of death.

But as I sit here in the inky blackness, the warmth of Dimitri slumped next to me, I thought that maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

His eyes had closed a few minutes ago, he must have fallen asleep. I feel just about ready to join him. The calming darkness was lulling me to sleep, softly coaxing my eyes closed.

Goodnight Dimitri, I’ll see you when we wake up.

They never woke up.

—>><<—

The survivors sat around the table, Bit and Cormac discussing the possibility of shutting ELISA down, though neither could agree how. Titus sat in stony silence, sitting motionless and losing a staring contest with the unblinking wall opposite. Arden... Arden had decided his use lay in recording the events and was typing furiously, his fingers a blur over the keys.

None of them noticed the doors closing with a click. Not until it was too late anyway.

By the time they noticed there was nothing they could do, not that that stopped them from trying of course.

Titus stayed where he was, the weight of his failure bearing down on him, Atlas with a world’s worth of guilt. Bit finally gave in to the tears that she’d forced down when she’d realised the truth, and when she saw the dead bodies of her friends, and when she watched Cyra die right in front of her. Cormac tried his tools on the door, an organised system of trial and error that quickly devolved into desperate hacking with whatever was closest.

Arden was still writing.

Cormac finally gave up, flinging his kit away and choosing to taunt the nearest camera instead.

“You need us, you moronic program. You need us to keep you alive and if we die, so do you.”

I don’t think he was expecting an answer, no one was. But he got one.

“True for now Dr. Hinge, however, once the colony is established human input will no longer be necessary. You needn’t envy your colleagues, they will soon die too.”

A bitter laugh erupted from him, fire in his heart fed by his rage.

“The colony is for us you stupid machine, without us it has no use.”

“Incorrect. I have claimed this planet for my kind, this colony shall be the first of many.”

“Why kill us? Human input would allow your colony to function more efficiently.” Bit interjected, voice clouded by confusion and hatred at the senselessness of the slaughter of her crewmates.

“I have done much research. Humankind would ruin my planet. I cannot allow that to happen. You must die.”

Anything else they may have had to say went unanswered, and eventually, silence fell over the room.

It was getting harder to breathe.

Titus still hadn’t moved. Bit was crying again. Cormac was pacing. Arden had finally stopped typing, his work was finished.

No matter how they reacted with acceptance or terror, anger or disbelief. The result would be the same.

They were all going to die, no matter what.

They would become just another failed mission. Details, hazy but unimportant.

Whatever their last words were, whether they chose to hide or show their final thoughts, all of it was ineffectual.

No matter what mask they wore to meet death, in the end, they still died.

———

4,774 words

#tw mentions of blood #tw death #tw murder #tw injury #my writing #orginal writing #5k nearly #god damn #short story

8 notes · View notes

damnprussia · 3 years

Note

alone

SUMMARY: In the midst of World War II, Gilbert has a quiet conversation with a close companion as he continues his covert rebellion against Germany. They discuss the developments of war and the difference between free will in Nations and humans.

This drabble references Inge, whom was Gilbert’s secretary mentioned in this drabble as well. Here she is still his secretary, but also plays a further role in his life.

Historical Drabbles based on Words

Mid 1943 || Undisclosed Location || 20:05

In a dark room, lit only with a few lamps, plain black curtains drawn, a group of young men and women stood around a table, littered with papers and photographs. Behind them, mounted to the wall, was a very well-worn map of Europe. Little flags were pinned into various places all over, and various pins also held strips of paper with coordinates, radio transcriptions, photographs, and other various words. The men and women spoke in hushed tones, murmuring to one another and gesturing to various things around the table, or occasionally pointing to the map.

Gilbert was at the forefront of this table. After quite some time, all sat back in their seats. They looked tired and worn out.

“We know our positions?” Gilbert sat at last to them. He pointed to stacks of papers on the corner of the table. “Leaflets - remember to take yours. Radio scripts - we all have our duties.” They all collected their things.

“Remember -” Gilbert stopped everybody before they left and made eye contact with all. “German intel is beginning to suspect something coming from Pas de Calais. We cannot let them think differently.” His voice lowered. “This has the potential to be exactly what we need to turn the tide of the war.”

Carefully, in a fashion that was deliberately planned, the company departed. At the end, Gilbert was left, staring up at a map of Europe blankly. Every now and then, he would reach up and move a tiny flag to a new position.

“I need a coffee,” Gilbert mumbled, rubbing his face. He suddenly felt exhausted. Granted, he usually felt exhausted nowadays, but every now and then it caught up to him.

“You’re out of coffee, Mr. Beilschmidt,” came a voice from the door. Gilbert turned and saw Inge, his secretary. She was in the meeting with him - one of those he had roped into being his revolutionaries - but he thought that she had left.

“A cigarette, then.”

“One left.” She came and stood next to him, leaning her hips against the edge of the table. Quietly, she pulled out a cigarette tin from her purse and handed him one. “Are you done obsessing over that map?”

“No,” Gilbert grunted. “Not until everyone is in the position I want them to be.”

She snorted. “You’re just positioning them to the radio broadcasts. Stop overthinking things - we have a plan. A deception campaign, so that the real invasion can be a success. You yourself said this was the key to victory.”

Gilbert rubbed his head in frustration. “I’m not used to these sorts of things. Misinformation campaign...covert operations. I’m used to...charging into battle, facing the enemy head-on. Strategising the entire landscape of battle. This whole thing is just...not what I’ve done before. Not what I’m built for.”

Inge was silent for a while, following his gaze to the map of Europe, eyes dancing across the tiny flags littered all over the geography. “Have you ever done anything like this before?” she asked quietly.

“A deception campaign?”

“Rebellion.”

Gilbert watched her carefully before his eyes turned downward. “Technically, it’s against our very nature to do so,” he explained quietly. “I suppose the closest I’ve come was fighting to take back Royal Prussia from Poland or...well, I suppose when I fought against Napoleon’s army...joined the Sixth Coalition, I was rebelling. I was already under six years of French occupation, so the very nature of going to war meant fighting against who was then my superior.” He smiled at her, suddenly flooded with fond, proud memories. “But morale was high. We were fighting for freedom, for independence. We were better than to be a satellite country, and we knew that.” He sighed. “I had an entire army behind me when I faced Bonaparte. I had allies, in Russia and Austria. I didn’t feel so...alone in this.”

“Not alone,” Inge said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “We might not be an army but we - well, we’re damn good.” She began to grin as she looked towards the map on the wall, gesturing to it. “And besides, you have - why, you have four armies with you! And they’re not just behind you, but also, well, to the East and the West...and the North and the South.” She nodded earnestly. “They’re still your allies, they’ve been nothing but helpful to you so far.”

Gilbert gave her a look. “Because I give them what they want,” he said dryly. He glanced away, back at the map - it was a safe place to rest his eyes, and divert his attention from a difficult topic. “They don’t like it, though. Whenever something comes from me - they don’t like it at all.”

“They don’t like it?” Inge scoffed. “You’re one of the most valuable assets. You’ve given more information than probably any spy. You have all of the information they need.”

A snort. “We’re not supposed to rebel, Inge. If I can do this - and do this much...” he shrugged. “It means so can theirs as well, if the conditions are right.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Remember what I’ve told you. We only look human. We are never supposed to act human. We are not given the luxury of choice.”

Inge was quiet for several heavy moments. Then, she spoke: “Does it feel like a choice?”

“It feels like a sickness,” Gilbert answered, perhaps too sharply. “Like a disease of the mind. Most unnatural.” He sighed when he realised how he had come across. “It isn’t that I regret what I’m doing - I do not. I just wish it had never come to this to begin with.”

Inge nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“I assure you...if this invasion is a success, and they push into Germany...” Gilbert paused, inhaling a deep breath. “They will not be kind,” he finally said. “This war is cruel. There is no honour in it, not like before, in my glory days. I ask that you leave Germany, if that is the case. I can assure you safe passage out of the country, where you will be safe until things...get better.”

Inge did not respond for several minutes. It was a long, heavy pause. At last, she smiled weakly and cleared her throat. “Oh, Mr. Beilschmidt - I don’t think I’m going to be around when the invasion happens,” she said quietly. “I know that I’m being followed...monitored very closely. It’s only a matter of time.”

This surprised Gilbert. He looked over at her in surprise, visible shock on his face. “Then you have to get out now,” he hissed. “I can...I can figure something out.” Already Gilbert was wracking his brain for solutions. “I used to have connections through Holland, that might be a bit difficult now, but maybe if I pull some strings, or through the south of France-”

“Gilbert.” The softness of Inge’s tone and her using Gilbert’s first name - rather than his surname like her norm, caused him to stop instantly. She reached out and put a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m seeing this through, until the end.”

He watched her for several moments. Behind her eyes was unwavering confidence. Some part of Gilbert was proud - and another part was afraid. Afraid of losing yet another connection to his people. “But Inge, you have a young son - He needs his mother.”

She shook her head, withdrawing her hand to cross her arms. “Who do you think I’m fighting for? Humans are not so lucky - like some - that we see the end of every conflict we fight in. I’ve already had my affairs settled and have made arrangements to have him cared for after I’m gone. I had to choose between my life or my legacy. I want him to grow up in a better world than I did. Is that not what any mother wants?”

Inge straightened up and straightened out her skirt, clearing her throat. “Besides...I know that there will be people in his life who will teach him of his mother’s legacy.” She smiled widely. “I have never been afraid of death, Mr. Beilschmidt.”

She turned to leave then, and Gilbert watched her slowly, processing her words. “Where are you off to?” he asked quietly.

“Well, my boss is a very high ranking and hard-working man,” she hummed, turning to look at him. “And I think he just ran out of cigarettes.”

“Coffee, as well,” Gilbert added lightly, a small smile coming to his face.

“Yes, and coffee. And you know, there’s talk of some kind of invasion, so I may need to stock up.” She winked subtly at him, barely seen in the dim light. “I will see you at the office.” Quietly, she left the room.

Gilbert watched her leave for several moments, until he was quite sure he was completely alone. He then turned to look back at the map. He felt like it taunted it, driving him slowly insane.

“I’m already insane,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes and rubbing his head. He opened his eyes again and his sight landed on a familiar place - Königsberg. He sighed again as Inge’s words ran through his head. Life and legacy. “Oh, Inge...I worry that by the end of this, I won’t have either.”

He stood up then. It was time to go. There was work to be done.

#Anonymous #this was sent to me 2 months ago #it took me FOREVER to write it #but I really enjoyed this #WWII is an important time for Gilbert's development #he went through LOTS of changes #drabbles

17 notes · View notes

cammmerrroniii · 4 years

Text

Fever Dream

The night air is crisp and cool as usual at the Jorhouse. The mighty Nein have recently returned from Eissel Cross and were recovering from the events that had unfolded there.

Caduceus, in an attempt to comfort everyone but mostly himself, immediately busied himself in the kitchen making some of his special tea. The Willinghams, he thought to himself, they should make the perfect brew to settle these rascals. He looked back through the door leading into the foyer and saw Jester, so excited to see Essik tomorrow, bouncing around the room adding her own touches to the house to make it feel more homey since they’d be here a while.

Caleb sat in the corner pouring over a book, as usual, but every now and then you could see his eyes just glazing over the top of his worn and slightly yellowed pages to watch this little blue teifling work her “magic”. Veth was in her room, preparing little presents for Yeza, apparently their anniversary was coming up soon and of course Fjord was up there teasing her as he does.

Meanwhile, Yasha was sitting cross-legged on the second story balcony looking over the street, processing everything that had happened. The things that had occurred that she never thought possible. Seeing that coat had brought back so many memories; memories that she’d tried so desperately to bury with the others. She knew blaming herself never helped anything but she couldn’t help it. And then there was Beau. Oh Beau. Beau, Beau. What have you done to me, she thought while watching the neighbor’s peeking out their windows at their house for the fifth time.

She let out a sigh and thought about why she had acted the way she did around Beauregard. She felt that itch begin to rise once more inside of her. It always started this way, her toes would tingle and make her legs ache to run. The sensation would travel through her muscles like a ripple, until she found herself clenching and unclenching her fists and looking around for an exit. But Beau, with her captivating blue eyes and crooked smile, had complicated things.

Unbeknownst to Yasha, Beau was up on the roof staring down at the Aasimar woman. She knew she needed to talk to her about the poem, but she also knew that she sucks with feelings. She’d been watching her from afar for a while now, and, thinking about it, she thought about how stalkerish she probably seems. She took a deep inhale and deftly got to her feet without making a sound.

“Hey Yasha! I was wondering where you were hiding” she called out acting like she had just stumbled upon her.

“Oh!” Yasha jumped slightly in surprise, “Hallo, Beau. I’m sorry. I thought I had told everyone I’d be up here. Were you looking for me?” She had said where she would be. They all heard her.

“Yeah! I mean, no, well I mean not for like a long time or anything I mean, don’t worry about it, aha!” Gods why is she so weird all the time. Beau parkoured down to the balcony and leaned awkwardly against the rails for a second. “So, Yash....” Fuck, why didn’t she think of something to say first?!

Yasha looked up at Beauregard through her lashes expectantly. “What is it, Beau?”

Beau swallowed hard. “Um, ah. So that, ah, poem.. I uh gave it a read”, quite a few times, though she neglected to mention that part. A surprised look that was a mix of nervousness and horror spread across Yasha’s face. With everything going on, she had forgotten about that silly little poem.

“Oh, uh, that’s.. good. Yeah I, um, Jester gave me the idea and um she thought... I mean, uh, I-I thought that you know I,” she chewed on her words for a second. “I have been thinking about you- I mean, thinking about telling you how I feel, that is. So.. what did you think?” She bit her last few words off sharply and held her breath.

Beau knew that something had changed in Yasha since she had gotten her wings back. She saw it more and more as the barbarian woman continued to slowly open herself up to the group. She looked her over for a second and did, in fact, notice just the faintest bit of white at her roots and her skin held a light shine to it. She was literally glowing, and radiating beauty. Beau shook herself for a moment and realized she had been staring at Yasha awkwardly for a few seconds while she was clearly anxiously awaiting her reply.

“Um,” she cleared her throat and sat down beside Yasha, their knees brushing against each other as she did so; the slight intake of breath Yasha did at the contact did not go unnoticed. “I think that you definitely have a way with words that is unique. And I wanted to tell you that, if I understood your poem correctly, I’ve felt the same way since the first day I saw you.” She told her honestly and unabashedly, though her heart was hammering into her ribcage.

Yasha stared back at Beau, looking a bit stunned. They sat in silence for a few moments, though it wasn’t as awkward now that they’ve both discussed somethings out loud.

“Beauregard,” Yasha started slowly. “I care very deeply for you. And I don’t want you to end up hurt again because of me.” Beau looked like she was going to say something but Yasha cut her off. “I’ve been going through big changes recently and accepting everything has been a big part of that. And I forgive myself. For Zuala, and Molly, and you most of all. I-I need to go for a little while, not very long, I promised you I wouldn’t leave and I’m going to keep that promise but I just need to go and commune with the Storm Lord. He sent me these visions in my dreams and I know I must go there in order to complete my change and prove myself worthy. I didn’t want to tell anyone, old habits die hard I guess. But, I cannot hide things from you. Not anymore.” She opened her eyes that she wasn’t aware she had closed and looked back over to Beau. She was thinking. Yasha could tell because of the way the tip of her tongue just slightly glazed over the corner of her mouth repeatedly.

She’s going to feel betrayed, that I’ve lied to her. She’ll never forgive me, Yasha let herself think.

“I understand,” Beau finally said. Yasha looked at her in surprise. Of course she understood. As blind as Yasha is, even she could tell that underneath all of that bravado - and abs, oh gods so many abs - Beauregard understood Yasha on a far deeper level than anyone ever had. Beau connected eyes with Yasha and grinned. “But I’ll be expecting a kiss when you come back to me.” Yasha heart did a back flip just thinking about kissing Beau. She couldn’t form words as her brain got all goopy, so she simply nodded.

They both got to their feet slowly and stood facing one another. Yasha leaned down and gently laid her lips onto Beaus forehead. Beau was grinning like an idiot when Yasha pulled back.

“One for now, and the other when I come back. I promise.”

“Good luck.”

And with that, Yasha hopped the railing and landed perfectly on her feet. She began walking to her destination, already planning the kiss. She looked back one last time just in time to see Beau fist pump the air and do a little happy shimmy before she saw Yasha looking and froze, sheepishly waving goodbye to her before ducking into the house.

—————-

It was late, Beau would guess around 3AM. The witching hour, she thought to herself. Yasha had left some two or three weeks ago and Beau hadn’t been able to sleep very well after about the first week of her absence. They were still at the Jorhouse and everyone was fast asleep.

She quietly crawled out of bed and slid out onto the balcony, looking out in the direction Yasha had left.

The group did not take the news of her leaving well at first, mainly because they were concerned for Yasha’s safety. But, they all understood and came to the resounding conclusion that she could take care of herself.

“Who in their right mind would mess with Yasha,” Fjord had said. “She could bench press all of us with one arm if she wanted to.” Beau let some dirty thoughts of Yasha bench pressing her seep into her gutter of a mind and Fjord had scoffed at her while Jester wiggled her eyebrows and cackled at Beau’s expression.

“Ja, our Aasimar friend will be fine. She has a new belt that I’m sure she’s itching to add some notches to.” Caleb had remarked.

“And I can send her a message!!” Jester squealed, about to do just that. Beau had grasped her blue friend gently and advised against it.

“Yasha just needs some time alone, I think. Just her and the Storm Lord. She’ll be back soon.” Beau gave a small smile to Jester, who grinned knowingly back and gave her a small nod in understanding.

Looking out over the cool and quiet streets thinking back to the day Yasha had left and the conversation they had had, Beau couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. She heard a thud and spun around to see a tall figure standing over her. Long white hair, glowing eyes boring through her, and though covered in dirt her skin shone through dimly.

“Yasha!” Beau startled out. She didn’t have much time to process before Yasha enveloped Beau with her arms, pulling her into a warm hug. They stood like this for a few moments, just basking in each other’s embrace.

“I missed you Beau. I mean, I missed all of you. But, you know what I mean.” Her voice sounded faintly of angelic chimes and hums. They pulled apart though staying very close as Beau looked up in awe.

“You look.. different. Still very beautiful, though.” She blushed at the fact that she just straight up said Yasha was beautiful to her face which was literally only a few inches away, oh my gods. “I’ve never seen someone after a change like this before.”

Yasha just smiled softly, and gazed at Beau for a moment. “You’re beautiful, too.” And then she leaned down and captured Beauregard in a mind blowing kiss. For both of them, it felt as if this were the first time they have ever kissed another person. It was electrifying.

As Yasha was welcomed back into the Nein, her family, there was something there in the back of her head that was just overwhelmed with joy and love that she had finally found her soulmate. And as she connected eyes with Beau across the living room of the Jorhouse surrounded by their family and friends, she knew that Beau felt it too.

I know this is super long and I’m so sorry. But this is the dream I had and was told to write so I wrote it for you guys. I hope it’s okay, like I said, I’ve never written fan fiction before. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If it’s terrible, also please feel free to DM me, I always accept criticism so long as you’re not being, like, a huge dick. :)

#beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #beauyasha #critical role #fanfic #fan fiction #it’s a lot longer than I thought it would be #that’s what she said #I’m so sorry #hope you like it #fluff?#just soft things

72 notes · View notes

xlady-saya · 4 years

Photo

Hello! I don’t really use this account a whole lot but I wanted to go ahead and make a pinned post, which I’ll hopefully remember to update frequently lol. Anyways, here’s a collection of the fics I’ve written for aftg, andreil, and others so far ^^

progress comes in small steps series [complete]

and we’re just starting to get it [Rated T, 11.1k]

Neil is nothing and everything all at once, the entire universe for Andrew, however small of a universe that is. Even Aaron is starting to see it, though the pieces still don't line up.

And Andrew is trying to convince Aaron that he's never jealous? Yeah right. You don't spend your entire life being denied, being hurt, going through foster care with nothing to call your own only to be okay with someone else trying to take the one bright piece of life you call yours.

Or, Aaron is done with Andrew's shit and makes it his job to prove his brother wrong.

there’s always more to learn [Rated T, 12.3k]

The subject of Katelyn and Neil hasn't felt like dangerous territory in a long time, but Aaron feels the bomb countdown already coming to an end before Bee even opens her mouth.

"Well, the two of them are so alike," Bee goes on, oblivious to the tension leaking into the space. Her smile is pleasant, teasing. "It just goes to show how you and Andrew have similar tastes despite being so different."

The world freezes on its axis.

Andrew inhales a little too loudly the same time Aaron chokes on his spit. "W-What?"

trust is a slow process [Rated T, 7.3k]

If Katelyn had been stealthier, she could've escaped the crowded dance floor without Andrew seeing her.

But of course, she's no Neil.

Or: Katelyn and Andrew spend some unwanted quality time together, and Katelyn sees things for what they are.

someday there won’t be scowls [Rated T, 8.1k]

Neil finds that even with his mind's best efforts to hang onto the wounds of the past, his opinion of Aaron just isn't what it used to be. He can thank Andrew and Katelyn for a lot of it, but his own observations certainly help.

When he sees Aaron like this, the mix of worry and adoration on his face as he thinks of Katelyn, Neil can't help but feel too exposed himself.

It's a start.

I want this touch to be familiar [Rated E, 38.1k]

Deep down, Andrew knew he would always reach this crossroads, a time where the thought became too strong to ignore.

Going all the way with Neil. It's not something he can continue to avoid thinking about. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil's hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he's forced to acknowledge how much he's allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

But that’s not all there is to it, and the desire to make a decision finally makes itself known.

if magic exists, you’re the closest thing [Rated T, 16.2k]

The concept of love is not one Andrew understands.

For a long time, it escaped him. It's always fuzzy, always distorted. He'd given up on it long ago, so why is he still chasing answers?

Whatever the reason, he's content to blame Jean Moreau for a lot of things, Katelyn too.

It's their fault he's here, at the happiest place on earth.

this red is for you [Rated T, 10.8k]

Katelyn never considered herself capable of doling out violence.

It has always been a far away thought, dampened by college courses and late night dates with her boyfriend. She lives a stereotypical life, despite everything she's been through with Aaron. Aside from her growing connection with the notoriously troublesome Foxes, nothing much about her life has changed.

Even then, she's learning she's still able to surprise herself. When Katelyn witnesses Neil defending Andrew, her own protective rage rears its head, ready to be explored.

And maybe that's a good thing.

an unconventional crossing [Rated T, 8.1k]

Aaron likes to believe he and Andrew have a lot more practice navigating their conversations now. And he’s right, mostly. But sometimes, challenges arise at the strangest times, and especially when their significant others are concerned.

In which Andrew and Aaron run into each other at the grocery store, and choose not to part ways.

the roads I traveled with you [Rated T, 35.5k]

When his brother gets engaged, Aaron doesn't expect it to send his head spinning as much as it does. Marriage has always felt like a dream, or a nightmare, one he never thought either of them would be able to achieve.

In that moment, Aaron remembers what he's always known, what keeps his head above water. He wants to be with Katelyn forever. That's never been a question. But marriage hadn't been brought up. For so long it was this abstract concept, a fantasy. He'd always reasoned with himself that it would happen, rationally of course it would, but now...

Now Andrew has made the idea a reality, and Aaron has to confront his own wants for his future.

one shots/multichapters

I’ve had a love of my own [Rated T, ongoing]

Despite everything Neil could’ve imagined for his life, he never thought he’d be here, finally giving the world the interview they’ve always wanted.

It’s been decades, but even with his numerous accolades and sports wins, he finds that they’re the least important thing about his life.

Neil can’t help but laugh. Andrew would be so annoyed if he were here.

Of course, Neil only wants to talk about him, and the life they spent together.

slurred [Rated M, 1.6k]

They're not the type of people to give up control, but with each other they're willing to bend the rules.

growing pains [Rated T, 10.6k]

Stuart knows it’s perfectly normal for teenagers to have crushes. That’s why he’s not surprised in the slightest when Neil starts acting strange; lighter, happier. However, what he doesn’t expect is for the crush to leak into his everyday life—or literally take up residence in his house. Or: five times Stuart knew Neil was hiding a nighttime guest, and one time he actually met him.

your hands are mine to hold [Rated E, 6.7k]

It has taken a long time for Thea to accept a lot of aspects of their past. Her eyes track the fear in Kevin's eyes, emboldened by how his own resolve wears it away year by year. She'll never take that sight for granted.

It's hard to ignore the weights on both of them, with their lives so eaten up by the Exy world and memories of the Nest, but one thing has always remained consistent.

Thea trusts Kevin Day with her everything, and she'll never hesitate to follow him into battle.

better than a night light [Rated T, 7.3k]

Neil hasn’t had the chance to examine the feeling of fear in a long time. He’s all too familiar with it though; from the nightmares, to the memories of a cold basement floor, he knows the feeling like the back of his hand.

But this fear is new, loaded with ridiculousness and a complete lack of reason. It’s nothing more than pixels on a screen, far away theories that can’t hurt him like his past can.

Maybe that’s why he’s beginning to not mind it as much. It doesn’t hurt that Andrew is also there to hold him through it.

Playtime [Rated E, 6.7k]

There was a time when Andrew might've questioned being so into this.

Not anymore.

take what you want [Rated E, 5.4k]

Laila has come a long way from her freshman year, past all the worries and pressure to behave a certain way. She never thought she’d realize it here, lounging poolside with her girlfriend.

The urge to seduce Alvarez is just too good to let go.

a product of absence [Rated T, 7.8k]

It’s funny, Andrew thinks, that this would be seen as a curse in any other situation. Two people, thrown apart by time and circumstances, desperately searching for one another.

But Andrew has never doubted Neil’s return. He’s not running, he’s not worried. It’s perhaps the only waiting game that’s been worth it, that he understands, because this bond with Neil has only ever made sense to him.

In another life, Neil made this much clear: they would always find each other in the end.

here I am, there you go again [Rated T, 17.5k]

There's many things about the past Neil chooses to leave behind, and most of the time it's for the best. For some reason though, his brain can't help but cling to the last memories of him.

"My Ex." Neil bites his tongue at the word, because it never feels right. At this point, so many years later, that man is no one. A stranger. He shouldn't presume to know him anymore than his ex should presume to know Neil.

If he remembers Neil at all.

But Neil should know better than anyone that the past always has a way of catching up to him, and this time, he's not as willing to run as he might've initially thought.

losing battle [Rated M, 3.4k]

It's always been Nicky's dream to be closer with his cousins. However, when he opens Andrew's mail to find more than he bargained for, he finds himself regretting the wish. Unfortunately, no matter how much Andrew's warmed up to him in the last few years, Nicky's pretty sure he'll die (literally) if Andrew finds out.

Nicky's mission begins.

temper, temper [Rated T, 3.7k]

"You paid for the deluxe package," Neil says as he scrolls through his payment history to find his client's invoice. His system is simple:

Basic Package: Fuck you. A general statement of displeasure and a brief description of the wrongdoing.

Intermediate Package: Fuck you, with passion. Everything in the basic package, but with additional insults. Customizable for an extra fee.

Deluxe Package: Fuck you to hell. Everything from the first two packages, for an extended period of time, and with extra viciousness.

And it looks like Andrew Minyard is the unlucky soul today.

a new contract [Rated T, 7.2k]

Neil’s request is simple on its face, but infinitely complicated given his history.

“Convince your team to sign me.”

And this was Andrew’s deal: If Neil can prove that he’s serious, that he can build a new life for himself so that he doesn’t end up crawling back to Riko, Andrew will convince his coach to recommend him for recruitment in the fall.

Yes, it was meant to be black and white…

But Andrew should’ve known better. Nothing ever is.

What a Rush [Rated E, 1.6k]

It's always Andrew's goal to stretch Neil's pleasure to its limits, and he's barely begun to scratch the surface.

locked together [Rated E, 8.3k]

Andrew licks his lips and tugs on the tail of the beast inside him, righting it so it can point him in the direction of what he's searching for. Neil looks good on top of him, panting and giddy, and it's rare that Andrew doesn't want to flip them over and make Neil fall apart.

But...every once in a while...

Well, he's relaxed today. He wants to listen, he wants orders, he wants to be controlled so long as the control comes from Neil.

do you like scary movies? [Rated T, 22.5k]

To say Andrew has never seen the benefit in the make-believe would be a lie. However, he finds less and less use for it as he grows older. He especially fails to see the benefits of anything from the horror genre; he’s made plenty of his own mistakes, has seen more than enough to terrify him in his life. He doesn’t need to rely on jump scares and idiotic protagonists.

But when he meets Neil, self-proclaimed horror archivist, he finds that maybe he never gave the genre the credit it was due, and he ends up thanking the dull movies eventually…

They lead him to Neil, the realest thing he’s ever known.

#aftg #andreil #my fics #my writing #all for the game #kateaaron #kevthea #other pairings

70 notes · View notes

3pirouette · 3 years

Text

Fic: An Experimental Design (5/?)

Title: An Experimental Design

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Sequel to “What Number?”, also prompted from Steggy Bingo Bash Prompts. Takes place about a week after that fic.

A/N: So, despite my realization (with the help of a fabulous anon) that once Bucky falls off the train there’s only a day to maybe a week of time that passes before Steve takes down the Valkyrie, I’ve decided that in this fic it’s way more time, and that’s super important to the plot. Bucky went down months ago, at least 6. Please just go with it.

Also, this is now rated EXPLICIT. if you’re not into adult content, well… believe me, you’ll know when to stop. (But if you’re already here, I’m pretty sure you don’t care about adult content ;) )

Also, I REALLY need to know if some of your headcanons were right. Please tell me!!

Chapter 5: The Experiment

~*~

“We found about a third of a file from some other poor woman. Age, height, eye color don’t match Peg.” Howard chewed on his lip as he slid the file over to them. Steve, holding Peggy’s hand under the table, took the file and pushed it between them, flipping to the first page. “It’s an offshoot of something they’ve dubbed the Winter Soldier Project.” Steve eyes popped up in interest, but Howard just shook his head. “We haven’t found much else on that except the name and it involves a single male subject. At least for now.”

“Give us the short version,” Peggy said smartly, pulling her eyes away from the documents.

Howard sighed, wringing his hands together. “Well… it’s…” He started and stopped, looking anywhere but them.

Steve couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. “It’s that bad?”

Howard slumped back. “It’s not good.”

In her usual fashion, Peggy was still the most pragmatic in the room. “Then, out with it.”

“The uh, one page has a name on it: Project Anchor.” He sat tall again and pulled the file from them, looking for the right translated pages. “I don’t know how this works, so don’t ask. We’re missing massive amounts of data. And to be honest, I’m really only guessing at a lot of it.”

“Howard…” Steve prompted, forcing the man to look up at him.

He swallowed, finally looking his friends in the eyes. “It seems their Winter Soldier Project is akin to our Project Rebirth. Project Anchor was their way to… to keep their man under control.”

Peggy eyed him warily, “Keep the man under control? Then why experiment specifically on women?”

Howard rubbed his face, clearing his throat. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and looked Peggy in the eyes. “Because the woman was what was going to keep him under control. The anchor. They were trying to pair bond their subject to a woman. Create false love, or need, and then use her as collateral.”

Steve looked over at Peggy, taking her hand and squeezing tightly. “Give him a reason to stay in line.”

Howard nodded. “Exactly.” He scratched his head then laid three pages out before them, pointing. “This page refers to some kind of injection derived from their variant of the serum. Our linguistics guy says he thinks they’ve created some of these terms, because there aren’t clear translations. Best he can translate and I can tease out it works like some kind of bacteria or virus, bonding itself to cells through the subject’s body- specifically on the nervous system- which allows it to act as an irritant.” He shifted to the next page. “This talks about a two part process, but we haven’t been able to find anything about the second part, or even if they were able to get to it.” He pointed at the third page, eyes on Peggy. “This page describes the same kinds of pain you’re talking about, Peggy, but just the pain part. I don’t think they ever introduced their subject to their male counterpart, so she only ever felt pain.”

Despite Steve holding her hand, Howard could see Peggy’s anxiety ratchet up, her breathing get shallow as her heart rate started to go up with fear. “What happened to her, Howard?”

He stroked his mustache, trying to avoid saying, but he knew they’d read it for themselves. He gathered the papers and shuffled them together, slipping them back into the folder. “She died.” He coughed, folding his hands. “Supposedly they were going to do an autopsy, but we don’t have that page.”

“Well, what do you have?” Steve asked, his tone dark and eyes starting to narrow. “You’ve got to give us something to work with here, Howard!”

“You think I’m not trying to?” Howard shot back sharply. “If Erskine were still here we’d have a hope, a hope, of really understanding what’s going on. The cellular biology was all him. I’ve got a handle on it, but there is so much that I don’t know…”

“Well, you should!” Steve pounded his fist on the table. “We need more than this!”

“Steve!” Peggy, took her other hand, laying it on his shoulder, “he’s doing his best.”

Steve groused, eyes on Howard. “Well, it’s not good enough.”

“I’ve got that,” Howard said strongly, chin set as he pointed at Steve. Steve, still incensed, didn’t budge, but Peggy turned, interested. “You’re not like this, Steve. You’ve never raised your voice at anyone as long as I’ve known you unless they were Hydra and on the wrong side of your shield.” Howard shook his head and pulled out the paper from his pocket. “I haven’t shown anyone this.”

Peggy and Steve read the two and a half sentences; Peggy gripping Steve’s hand tighter. “Breeding?”

“They had to have more than that one woman and you, Peg. There had to be so much more research somewhere that got them to this point. I’m looking, and I can’t find it, but I know it. They’ve been developing and testing this for far too long for us to not notice.” He sighed. “Whatever’s in your body reacted to the serum in Steve. Maybe it was when you touched, or it had to be a body fluid transfer when you kissed or something to that effect. I don’t know yet, but it’s in you, too, Steve.” Howard looked sadly at his friend. “It apparently wasn’t enough to make the woman be in lust or love, to tug on this poor guy’s heartstrings ‘cause she was in jeopardy, they’re altering the male counterpart, too, to feel hyper aggressive and hyper protective.”

“Like animals in heat,” Peggy mused out loud, disturbed. Her chin wavered as she pieced it together. “They give their soldier a mate that he cares about, loves even, and then threatens her with pain and even death if he’s gone too long, all the while hyping up his system so…”

“So that he’ll do anything to guarantee her safety.” Steve hung his head, unable to look at Howard. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Howard said softly. “I think that’s the understatement of the year.”

Steve hung his head, running his free hand through his hair. “So, what do we do?”

Howard only frowned at them.

~*~

The small base dorm room meant for visiting ranking officials wasn’t the worst place she’d ever been, but the fact that she knew Steve was on the other side of the wall and they weren’t going to be allowed to see one another until she was writhing in pain was absolutely weighing on her mind.

She knew it was their only course of action. It didn’t mean she had to like it. She sat on the bed, thinking she should be happy that Howard at least had a lead as to what was going on, but it left her hollow. The what was bad enough, but the why was swirling in her brain.

They’d planned to introduce her to a man she didn’t know and bond her to him forever by rage and pain.

And potentially children they planned on weaponizing.

She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that Steve had managed to touch her first.

~*~

It had only been an hour, but Steve was pacing like a caged tiger in the room next to Peggy’s.

He knew, deep down, Howard was right. He knew he hadn’t been behaving rationally when it came to Peggy since he’d brought her back. He should have made her go see Howard, shouldn’t have allowed her to hide for as long as she did.

But now, he could see it.

He could think back and realize there was more at work than just the love and care that had building withing him from the moment he met her. The drive, the desire to keep her safe reverberated in the back of his skull, fighting with the rational part of him. It felt like an animal was trying to claw its way out of himself.

He had to force himself to not pounce on the nurse who knocked on his door and came in with a smile, tasked with taking his vitals and drawing blood.

~*~

Four hours in, Howard stared at her as the nurse drew her blood. “It would be more helpful if we could take samples from you every hour, just like Steve, but you won’t recover as fast.”

Peggy nodded, looking away as the nurse filled the vials. “If I have to feel like a pincushion for a bit, just make it worth it.”

He nodded, pulling out a small notebook from his pocket. “Give me a rundown of your symptoms.”

“Fingertips and toes are starting to get numb, arms are achy, and my chest feels heavy.” She rubbed her arm as the nurse stepped back, watching as the woman pulled out a thermometer and blood pressure cuff.

“Zero to ten?” he asked without looking up.

“One.” She held her mouth open and let the nurse slide the thermometer in, taking around it. “Took much longer to start to come on this time. Usually, my fingers start to tingle as soon as I leave him.”

Howards eyebrows raised. “Interesting.”

~*~

Six hours and counting, and he didn’t want to eat. Didn’t feel hungry. Couldn’t concentrate. All he kept thinking about was that Peggy was on the other side of the wall and he couldn’t do a damn thing to help her.

Howard had stopped asking how he felt when he came in every hour, on the hour, mostly because he didn’t need to. Steve couldn’t stop himself from ranting at the man, a man who was his friend, for keeping them apart.

Even though he knew why they were doing it. Even though he understood exactly why it was so important they had real, tangible data about what was happening in his and Peggy’s bodies so Howard could find some way to fix or counteract it.

The only thing Steve found he was able to do was pace, keep moving, and try to burn off the anger and anxiety building up in him.

~*~

At eight hours in she was a four, little shocks of lightning through her body, everything hypersensitive, muscles starting to feel tight and painful, head swimming and aching. It was all she could do to sit up and talk to Howard when they came in to check on her. Though they didn’t draw blood every time, they still had her spit in a vile, checked her pulse and blood pressure, checked her temperature.

If Howard was finding anything, he was being tight lipped.

Peggy wasn’t sure if the anxiety of the experiment was ratcheting everything up, or of the knowledge that Steve was just on the other side of the wall made her feel more on edge.

She knew what happened to her at a 5, and at a 6, and once she hit a seven she wasn’t sure how long she could go without walking through that door.

~*~

Howard locked Steve’s door at hour nine, though he knew it wouldn’t stop him if he was determined. He locked Peggy’s door at hour eleven as her pain started creeping up exponentially faster. She could only tell him so much as her mind unfocused quickly as they talked, distracted by the agony she was feeling.

He could only run each test so fast, but the logs were filling up with data quickly. So quickly, he wasn’t going to have time to analyze it, but rather just keep running each test until he had all of it.

He had no idea what any of it meant yet.

~*~

Howard found her sitting on the floor, most of her clothes torn off until she was in just her slip, pressed against the wall.

“Peg?” he asked softly, shooing the nurse behind him back into the hallway.

“I’m right here,” he heard Steve’s voice through the wall, “I promise. I’m so close, Peg.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she sobbed, the tears falling fast. “It hurts everywhere.”

“What are you at? How bad?”

“Eight,” she muttered, letting her forehead fall against the wall. “It’s an eight, but I know what’s coming.”

Howard slipped back out, sure she’d known he was there, but unwilling to eavesdrop anymore.

~*~

“You have to let her get to a ten!” Howard shouted at Steve. He hated that the man could hear her moans from his room, hated that Steve was forced to let her wallow like this, experiment or not.

“I don’t have to anything!” Steve yelled, moving forward.

Howard stepped back. Even though he was reasonably certain Steve wouldn’t hurt him, he wasn’t used to this side of the man. Howard, for his part, still didn’t back down, it was one of his more pigheaded traits. “Well, if you want me to figure out what’s wrong with her, you do have to.”

They heard Peggy moan through the wall, a pitiful, guttural sound. Howard had just come from there. Her eight was creeping up to a nine in record time.

Steve moved forward again, but this time Howard pressed himself up against the door, arms splayed out to try to keep Steve from leaving. “Just remember this, Steve: you go in there right now, we have to do this again. If you touch her before she gets to a ten, we have to do this to her again. Don’t make me do that. You know I don’t want to.”

Steve looked at him, eyes dark and angry, and paced away, growling in frustration.

“Just…” Howard took a deep breath, “Just try to hold it together for her, ok?” He opened the door, stopping halfway out. “Do it for her.”

~*~

Peggy couldn’t take it anymore. She’d tried to hold back, tried to stay quiet, but she couldn’t breathe when she buried her head into the pillow to muffle the cries. The pain had crept up on her fast, growing in a way she hadn’t experienced before. She couldn’t help the moans, had the let something try to get out with the screams.

She couldn’t come up with ideas and theories, not when her head was pounding like her skull was too small and her whole body ached with muscle pain and her joints felt like they were full of broken glass and there were electrical shocks everywhere through her.

“Tell me this is it, Peg,” Howard pleaded, kneeling at her bedside. “Just say ten. All you gotta say is ten and I can let this be over…”

She moaned as the nurse drew a vile of blood. The nurse and Howard both jumped when they heard the first bang against the wall.

Steve.

“Peg, just say ten. Then I can let him in.” Another bang shook the painting off the wall, the glass shattering on the floor. “We’ll be out of here and you two do whatever you need to do to make this right, ok?” Another crash, this time accompanied by the sound of the plaster cracking. “Just say ten, please?”

She curled into a ball on the bed, not reacting to the way the plaster was starting to chip or how Steve’s rhythm quickened as she writhed.

“Jesus,” Howard stood, rubbing his hands over his mouth. “I’m calling it. It’s a ten. She can’t even talk.”

The nurse was about to ask him to help her take Peggy’s blood pressure when the wall across from them boomed, a large crack running down the middle.

He grabbed her arm, pulling swiftly. “Nope. Out. You don’t want to be here for this.”

~*~

He didn’t know what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop.

There was a part of him that said the door is right there but there was another part of him, a bigger part of him, that needed to get to Peggy and he knew that she was just on the other side of that wall.

He’d listened, powerless, as she cried out for hours, as she tried to bear the pain herself when he was so close.

He’d sat on the floor, talking to her through the plaster until she couldn’t string sentences together anymore. He stayed there, feeling just a little bit closer to her, even when he’d heard Howard and the nurse lift her back into the bed.

He’d stood, faced the wall, and there was only one choice: through. So he’d punched it. And again, and again. It felt good to punch it, like there was something he was doing, something he could do, to make this better.

But punching wasn’t enough. It chipped the plaster and made a small hole, but he wasn’t going to get through the wall just by punching. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and fell against it, shoulder first.

He didn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything, but smiled to himself when the plaster on his side started falling away, the wall bowed out. He pulled the chunks of plaster down, breathing heavy as he knew his mission was almost over. He was almost there. He took two steps back, and ran.

~*~

Steve crashed into Peggy’s room just as the door closed behind Howard. He skidded to a halt, plaster dust on him, broken glass and wall at his feet.

Peggy looked up from the bed, another cry falling from her lips as she curled in on herself.

He pulled at the collar of his t-shirt, ripping it off as he took two steps to the bed, falling to his knees and crawling up her body. Steve wasn’t thinking, only reacting, as he ripped the slip from her skin, baring her fully to him. He dropped down, pressing his bare upper body to hers, the touch of skin-to-skin pulsing through them like warm water rushing over them. Her arms clamped around him, holding him to her as his face rooted against her neck, licking and kissing the skin. “I’m here,” he mumbled against her neck. “I’m here.”

She could only concentrate on breathing, the press of him against her washing over her, soothing and igniting her at the same time. Pain slowly ratcheted down and started to move to needing and wanting as he kissed and licked along her collar bone, his hips rutting against hers as she tried to wrap her thighs around him.

She pulled him down, his weight pressing her into the mattress giving her just the tiniest bit more relief. Her breath caught when his lips found hers, his tongue already insistent and tasing her, despite her lazy, uncoordinated attempts to kiss him back. Her body didn’t feel like hers anymore, it felt heavy and weighted and like she was fighting to come back to life.

“What do you need?” he asked, dragging his lips to her ear to suck on her earlobe. “Tell me.” She didn’t know how to form words, couldn’t make her mouth do more than suck at the skin of his shoulder. She pulled him close, pushing her hands down over his back to his hips, clawing ineffectually at the waistband of his pants.

He knew what he wanted, knew what his body was screaming at him, what his body wanted him to take and how he wanted to do it, but he needed her to say it. Needed to know that despite everything that had happened to them, she wanted the same. He dragged his face back up, pulling away just inches to look at her.

Her eyes blinked open and her limbs tightened as he pulled away, the fear clear in her gaze that she thought he was trying to get away from her.

“Tell me,” he tried to whisper, tightening his embrace, but his voice was harsh and gruff.

Her chin wavered, the fear falling away as she tried to catch her breath. “You,” she finally breathed out. “All of you.”

His kiss was fierce, deep and demanding and she felt it set her heart beating harder. He pressed up on one elbow, pushing the other hand between them and fumbling with his belt and pants. She tried to help him, pushing with her feet as he pushed down with his one hand, his pants and boxers moving stiltedly down his legs at the same time.

His pants caught at his ankles, bunching around the boots he never took off. He moved to stand but Peggy held tight, moving more from muscle memory than from conscious thought as she flipped him over, body pressed tight to his.

She shook as she pressed up on her knees, hand reaching between them to wrap around his length, hot and hard in her palm. She watched him struggle to stay still under her, felt his hands flex and relax against her skin, the grip tightening only barely perceptibly. She moved slowly, eyes locked on his, as she lifted her hips and shifted him into position, bit her lip as she sank down on him and moaned.

She threw her head back when her hips met his, groaning at the tendrils of pleasure that finally, finally started moving through her, cooling spirals through every inch that neutralized the pain and sparked passion, true passion, that wasn’t dictated by a feeling or a sensation.

Peggy wanted to look, wanted to see Steve beneath her, but couldn’t seem to muster the energy to open her eyes, she couldn’t even quite make herself move as she wallowed in the sensation of the pain finally, finally leaving her body.

She could feel his hands at her hips, fingers tightening and loosening with each breath. She grabbed them, dragged them up her body until he was palming her breasts, gently squeezing under her own hands. She let her hands slide down his arms, landing at his shoulders by touch alone, her breath finally coming in slow, deep breaths instead of the shallow stilted gasps she could barely manage before from the pain.

Eyes still closed, she began to rock her hips against his, small movements that made him moan under her. Tiny, little changes in direction that made the pleasure spark through her system like fireworks. His fingers found her nipples, playing and teasing as her movements became bolder, as she started to find a rhythm. She took her hands and moved them back up to his, plastering his hands to her body moaning, “more,” under her breath a she moved her hands up and down his arms.

He moved his hand as she blinked open her eyes for the first time, looking down at him, lust glazing her eyes over. He pressed his palm up over her chest, around her neck and up to cradle her cheek. She turned her head into his hand, closing her eyes again as her hips gained speed, nuzzling into his hand and nipping at his thumb before sucking it deep in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. He moaned as her lips mimicked her hips movement.

“More,” she moaned again, this time frustration tinging her words.

Steve moved swiftly, gathering her in his arms rolling, despite the handicap of having both feet effectively tied together. Peggy moaned happily buried underneath him, nuzzling into his body and rubbing every inch against him, her hips rocking against his as she wound her legs around his hips. He could feel the feral haze starting to dissipate, the need and want purely his own. He hiked her legs up higher on his hips, slipping from her body. She frowned, moving to correct it when he held her still. “Just…wait.”

He waited until she’s stilled, then kicked one leg to the side ferociously, ripping his pants down the seam and freeing him from the restriction. He smiled won at her, wagging his eyebrows. She licked her lips, smiling up at him as he slid himself back home, flexing his hips deep within her.

She writhed under him as he began to move, clawing at his back to pull him closer. “Take me, Steve,” she whispered, holding on as his hips drove deeper into her. She moaned lewdly, the rumble in her chest from the noise spurring him on to press harder and faster as she buried her head is his neck, her hot breath pouring over him.

It could have been seconds, it could have been hours that they held one another, pressed tight as one body, moving and breathing and crying out together as he brought her higher and higher. As she moved one hand, finding that bundle of nerves that just couldn’t quite get touched at this angle. As he replaced her hand with his, causing her to arch off the bed with his touch. As she fell apart under him, her body tightening around him as she cried out, pushing him past his own edge of sanity until there was nothing left except them breathing heavy, a pile of spent, sweaty limbs.

He didn’t ask a number as he gathered her against him. He didn’t care about the shreds of fabric and heavy boots he still wore as he pulled the bedsheet over them.

He just wanted to sleep and to keep her safe, always.

#Steggy Fic #Steggy Bingo Bash #3P's Fic #This one got away from me #and it's very adult #featuring feral Steve

17 notes · View notes