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astriefer · 3 years

Note

“Please hold me.” for thomastair (ofc bc that's what you said) 🥺

Thank you for this! @littlx-songbxrd you asked for this as well. I'm sorry it's so bad.

~~~~~

Trust me with thy heart

Pairing: Thomastair

Words: 4,537

Contains mild angst, some self harm and hurt/comfort.

Note I am awful at writing angst or hurt/comfort. This whole poor writing is based on miscommunication, much or less, or the fear to let others close.

~~~~~

Thomas wasn't fond of fights.

Demons were one thing. Their destiny as Shadowhunters was to protect mankind from those filthy monsters who invade their world. They brought disorder and death. The people he cared about were a different tale.

A light jest with his friends, why not? A banter with his father about taking the coat or not while going outside? Sure. But not a very tumultuous, tempestuous strife with them. He preferred them all to get along with each other.

Thomas liked even less when it was him involved in the disagreement.

He spent the last day jogging between massive training seasons, hanging out with his friends, and losing himself in his thoughts. Now, he avoided everyone in favor of reading Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. He made a special effort to tell no one where he was going, so non could bother him and ask him questions.

So Thomas was stunned when Ariadne Bridgestock, of all people, rushed through the entry in an unmatched combination of grace and ivory skirts, then flopped herself onto the armchair in front of Thomas.

While she had had a pleasant expression on her face, there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. If Thomas hadn't known better, he would've sworn she came here to murder him.

"You and Alastair fought," she stated.

Thomas glanced between his book to her determined face twice, considering his options. Then, on behalf of good manners, he put a bookmark on the current page he pretended to be reading for half an hour. "Is it Alastair's way to tell me to speak to him? If so, please tell him not to embroil any other folks in our relationship."

"He hadn't sent me," Ariadne ignored the last part of his sentence. "But he did not arrive for our conclave."

A spark of concern lightened up in Thomas, yet he repressed it. He was angry with Alastair, Thomas reminded himself. "And what have you speculated I can do about it?"

She looked at him funny. "Talk to him, I presume."

"Ariadne," he tried, weariness falling heavy on him. "While I appreciate your concern, I doubt Alastair wants to see me. In fact, I doubt whether I want to see him right now. I know you confide in each other-" more than Alastair does with him, the bitter thought tore its way into his head. "And your intentions are well, but I will highly prefer to keep this between myself and Alastair."

He thought this would give her down and make her apologize. "Alastair wouldn't have sent someone else, and he didn't solicit help from myself," she said instead. "He would've given time to you both to collect your minds, and then come to you in clearer mind."

It was right. He knew it was. "So this parley is all you?"

"As I said, Yes. I worried for my friend, who happened to be your partner."

Thomas brushed his thumb on the spine of the book, musing over her words. "Why would you be worried?"

"He stood me up. I came by your flat later, just for him to say nothing has happened. When I asked where you were, he conceded you two had a big bump in the road."

"That's a nice way to put it," Thomas murmured. "I frankly wished to be left alone. It's nothing-"

"Thomas," Her amber eyes met hazel ones. "You are good at many things. Fighting demons, and keeping the rest of the Thieves out of trouble, for example."

He quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Lying is not one of them."

Thomas swallowed, endeavoring to hide the feeling of hurt off his face. Recalling what happened a few days before made his whole body ache in pain. "So Alastair and I had a row. It always happens with lads."

"It's not just a lad for you," she pressed. He was wide aware of the chastisement in her words. "It's Alastair. And never have I seen him the way he looked when I checked on him."

"What do you mean?" he asked after he perceived her words. "Alastair was absolutely fine when I left the flat."

"You have to see for yourself." Ariadne said, "Go to him."

Despite the knots formed in the abdomen, he dithered. "Things ended up stormy when we last spoke. Maybe he's still mad. Maybe I'm still mad."

It wasn't just Alastair who was mad. He wondered how Alastair had been this past day, and how was he feeling, among many other thoughts. Yet the cloud of exhaustion and hurt surrounding him perturbated the nervousness. He was allowed to be upset about what happened. It sure wasn't nothing. Not on his part, at most. Why couldn't Alastair just-

"Excuses are not appreciated," Ariadne announced, "So you better confront him already, or I swear I shall chase you to the end of the Earth with my electrum whip." Ariadne threatened, and that what had taken to wake Thomas out of his hesitation.

"Of course," he sighed, "Because I don't have enough troubles already."

She brushed it off again with a smile, and Thomas felt mildly annoyed. He hadn't shown it. "Sort it out. It will benefit the two of you to tackle the problem."

She left no place for arguments. Utterly abandoning the book, Thomas rose to his feet and went to leave the room.

He was glad to get out of the grip of this confusing confab, but he was even more unsure if to listen to her advice.

He was still angry with Alastair.

~~~~~

A veil of fog surrounded the city. It was a prevalent London day, cool and cloudy. The wind is blowing hard, welcoming passersby in a burst of freezing breeze. A thunderstorm on its way, they said.

But those were the last of things that perturbed Alastair's peace of mind. It matched his mood just fine. If someone was to describe him, curled up on his bed alone, he could imagine being portrayed as forlorn and tormented.

No, what bothered him was a particular someone that left and hasn't returned. Alastair hated he still hoped Thomas would return and make him less cold.

His breath was heavy, and his lungs burned like fire. He remembered words that haunted him for weeks in the past. I believed you were more than what others said about you. I conceived myself beneath all the harsh words, was someone with a kind soul waiting to be seen. Was it all a lie I told myself?

Darkness flooded his senses. Trying to get any portion of self-control on his body he could, Alastair rose to his feet, glancing out of the window on unsteady legs without seeing anything at all. Gather yourself together.

But the words burned deep then, and they burned deep now. That was a battle against himself he meant to lose. The cold spread not only from the world beyond the window but from within him. It pulled out his ugly head, writhing and furious, desperately trying to break free and rise to the surface. People walked in the streets, oblivious to his troubles just as he was to theirs.

Thomas wasn't there.

Thomas wasn't there, and Cordelia wasn't there, and anyone he loved wasn't there. He locked himself in their flat for the past day, overthinking and speculating and wondering why did he have to be the way he is. If Thomas had finally realized he deserved someone so much better than Alastair, would he be surprised? Alastair was aware of this fact too well. The way he looked at him when they fought, the shaky hands when he opened the door, and the hours of waiting in case Thomas will return, just for nothing to happen. What does it mean if not that Alastair finally made Thomas give up and leave?

This inner part of him was crying, demanded to be heard, to be set free. A shrill cry came to his ears, and it took him a moment to perceive it belonged to him.

His vision became vague, his head ached, and everything spun around. He tried to lay a hand on the wall - only to find he miscalculated the distance and fell ungracefully on his knees. His heart pounded in his chest while the darkness tried to pull him in; He tried to take a breath and dozens of small knives tore his lungs up. He shrank, gasping for air that didn't come.

Everything seemed blurry, all his mind could engross in was the words Thomas Lightwood told him, the cold truth dripping from them, freezing Alastair all over again.

Alastair was accountable for all the hideous things he'd done and said, unquestionably. How weak is he that he hides behind shallow faces and vicious words? What a dolt he is, hurting a person, mainly the only person outside of his family that seemed to genuinely care for him. His words rang in his head, Thomas's voice haunting every corner.

He sank lower, his breathing gurgling, reaching out in search of something stable, something that would serve as a pillar in the chaos that ensued around him. His hand extended out to the still air and then groped for something to hold on the floor. That came the way of a cold, sharp object that lay on the ground. He gripped it tightly, and he groaned in pain and relief at the physical ache that eased his mind.

"Alastair?" A voice called.

~~~~~

Thomas was about to lose his right mind. Alastair was trembling vigorously, barely able to stand on his feet that were shaking like a leaf swaying in the wind.

"Alastair," Thomas stuttered, with no response back. His indignation vanished to immediate panic. "Alastair?" he repeated more stubbornly.

His chest went up and down quickly; His eyes were wide like that of a deer caught in the automobile light. When Thomas tried to take a step toward him, the smaller man stiffened and stood bolt upright. Thomas stopped dead.

"I came at the behest of Ariadne," he said, just for the sake of talking. Alastair hadn't told him to quiet, so he kept going. "And because I was worried about you."

"Leave," Alastair hissed out frantically. Thomas couldn't stop the throbbing burn striking through his body.

Thomas took a few steps back, allowing Alastair his space. He had no temptation to leave as he requested - Thomas simply waited aside, for a chance Alastair would change his mind. He recalled the nights he woke up from a nightmare, dazed and overwhelmed with emotions, and how Alastair always reassured him in the dead of night.

This Alastair seemed lost in his own mind, unable to escape, and it terrified Thomas. Yet, he shoved the dread aside and put on the most relaxing facade he could. He was told to be quite good at it.

"I'm right here, Azizam."

"Everyone leaves. You can do as well."

Somewhere in his mind, the pieces joined together, like a colossal puzzle. Was he afraid Thomas would leave him? That he would give up on him? he told him he could leave in their run-in, because he thought everyone will leave him in the end?

"I don't know. I don't know how to do it." To cease making the wrong decision. To cease pushing people away. To cease hurting people. "man nemidânam."

"Alastair, can you hear me?"

As he found out, Alastair did not hear him. "I don't want to hurt you. I already hurt you so much." Alastair went on, choking on his own words. Thomas was in full panic mode, and he hurried further toward Alastair with barely contained alarm.

I find you worth any pain to come, Thomas thought.

"It's fine," Thomas said. "I am fine. I want you to be fine as well. It's much more important to me than whether you may or may not harm me."

Something split in his face, and he took a deep breath down his throat. His eyes snapped to Thomas. The terror on his face made Thomas's heart sink.

"Alastair?" he asked, but it didn't manage to elicit a response from the other man.

Thomas drew closer to Alastair, not missing the flinch passing the half-Persian's body. Thomas could hear his breath, shallow and trembling. He could painfully see the tremor of his hands. The wide eyes that so clearly tried to hold back tears. He took one step closer, and Alastair took one back.

Thomas imminently came to a halt. Alastair squeezed hard against the wall. He looked like a captive animal on the verge of losing hope, a man pushed to the edge, an injured soul.

Thomas took one step closer. With his enormous figure, it all needed to reach Alastair. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man, didn't let go even when Alastair squirmed, trying to shove him aside, fought to set free from Thomas's grip. His hold only tightened, and he used his strength to shove Alastair's head into his chest. He kept him close, kept even when Alastair protested, kept his hold when Alastair Surrendered abruptly, sinking into the soft material of Thomas's clothing, even when sobs began and his chest got wet from the tears of his love.

Thomas pressed his lips to the dark hair, held Alastair steadily while he cried. No words of reassurance passed between them. Truly, Thomas wasn't sure Alastair would have heard him if he tried. He knew the touch was what Alastair needed. Their embrace was clumsy and distorted, but it was enough. Enough to tell Alastair he wasn't alone; Thomas wouldn't have let him go through this alone.

With a soft sigh, Thomas finally let loose of his grip. He started to pull away and was surprised when he felt fists clasping on the fabric of the front of his sleeveshirt.

"Please," Alastair whispered desperately."Please hold me."

Thomas couldn't find it in himself to deny it to Alastair. They slipped to the floor. Alastair buried his face in Thomas's chest once again, shaking silently. Thomas felt his mouth forming words on his chest, although he could not tell which. All the while, his hands embraced the slim, shaking form of Alastair.

A few minutes had passed. Or an hour. Or a couple of days. Thomas didn't feel the time had passed while he tried to console his beloved one. He closed his eyes and concentrated on moving his hand on Alastair's small back, kept him close. The other hand came to caress the space between his ear and jawline, where he was creating circles on the tender skin.

Slowly, The dark-haired's breath became more even.

"Here you are," Thomas let a breath of both exhaustion and relief leave his body. "Can you hear me, Eshgham?"

"Y-Yes."

"Would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

"No."

Thomas sighed inertly as he held the other gentleman in his warm hands, promising reassurance and no judgment. Alastair, for the matter, clang to him as if he was drowning and Thomas was his only lifeline.

He never liked to fight with Alastair. It rarely happened, but when it did it left a bitter taste in his mouth and a pang at his heart. But he was not going to give up - not on this. He remembered his mother once told him couples fight, sometimes, because they still care about what the other does. It was their first argument with their new agreement. It didn't make him feel any better at the time. All his life he had been surrounded with unconditioned love, never exposed to the arguments and the imperfect details. It made him view love as just sweet and honey, while he learned that there's more with Alastair.

There's the giving. And the receiving. The trust in the other's intentions and the willingness to make them your priority foremost of all. The disagreements make you understand when your boundaries are and open a place for learning and acceptance. The balance you build with time, something he hoped he could shape with the man in front of him.

The trust part, to his belief, was something they still were working on. Alastair had leaned on him, and Thomas wondered it he thought now he calmed down, Thomas would leave him again. He did the last time.

"I'm not leaving," They locked eyes, and for some reason, he felt hope. "Alastair, I'm not leaving."

There are very few things he wanted more than Alastair. Verily, He was what he longed for above everything else. He wanted Alastair and everything he was.

Alastair didn't answer, but he averted his eyes.

"Are you ready to go now?"

Alastair seemed slightly lost, but he nodded and weakly stood on his legs. He followed Thomas while Thomas flung himself up and let Alastair sat on their bed beside him. The comfortable place always made both feel better - The mix of English and Persian and Spanish books on the bookshelves. The notebooks full of poems Thomas kept beside his side of the bed. Alastair's spears collection. The artworks they bought when they visited art galleries.Even the soft yellow light was a source of relief.

"You are mad," proclaimed Alastair in a hoarse voice.

"So are you," Thomas returned. Alastair shook his head, and Thomas's eyebrows rose. "So what then, if not mad?"

"Mostly nauseous," Alastair murmured, managing to startle a breathy chuckle out of Thomas. "But also bloody exhausted."

Thomas fumble after the right words, before deciding he should be candid. "I didn't like being apart from you in those few days. But I stick to what I told you before, Alastair." He saw it happening - the wall of defense Alastair was building up again after the last one had crushed. "Let me bring some fresh air into here."

Thomas tried to ventilate the room well while Alastair sank into the mattress and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "If you call the London foggy, polluted air fresh, then sure."

A bit of relief passed because of Alastair's quip. He didn't lose it. "It seems you and my father share this opinion."

Thomas scanned Alastair, then noticed the cut on his right palm. Absentmindedly, he approached his side.

"Why did you do it?"

It took Alastair a moment to conceive what he was referring to. He hastily covered it with his other hand, but Thomas saw it. "I - didn't mean to."

Thomas watched the cut in awe as if it was imaginary. However, when he grazed the skin, Alastair winced.

Thomas wasn't sure how to counter this. Their fight. What just happened. Alastair didn't either. Or did he wish to pretend none of this happened? That he -both of them- weren't hurt?

This thought wasn't toleratable to Thomas.

And that's why, after he took his stele out of his dresser and was applying an iratze on Alastair's forearm, that he asked, "I want to talk about what happened the day before yesterday."

He could feel Alastair stiffening, his muscles tensing. "I was upset," Alastair said cautiously. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, Tom."

"You shouldn't have," Thomas agreed. He was done with the iratze and put the stele aside. "But that's not why I'm distraught."

Alastair shot him a tumultuous look. Thomas took a deep breath before looking Alastair dead in the eye. "You were upset, but you wouldn't tell me why. You grumble about things relentlessly, but when you're truly shaken you don't share at all. It's not - just this argument. It's not just one thing. Those small moments you hesitate whether to tell me the truth. The times you don't." He inhaled, letting the cold air fill his lungs. He resisted looking away from Alastair's face, didn't let his eyes flutter around the room like they were trying to do. "Love is also built on trust and communication. If we don't have those, what is left?" He didn't need to hear Alastair's reply. "We talk, and we share, yet I cannot understand why you're so grumpy at times. I need you to tell me."

"Can't one just be pissed off at the world?"

"Alastair."

"Many things can upset me," Alastair said. Thomas might have hallucinated it, but his voice was a bit shaky. "Do you want to hear them all?"

"Yes," Thomas answered immediately. His tone was sincere.

Alastair's hand reached to the other side of the bed, a nonverbal request. They still couldn't stop staring at each other. But not playfully, or lovingly, but earnestly.

Alastair, naked of his facade and any snide remarks. Alastair, whom he grew to know and rarely showed up to many else.

I do trust you. I care for you. were the meaning behind Alastair's gaze. All Thomas wanted is to lean on and forget everything. But still - it was not his pride making him relucent. That was much deeper than that.

He lingered there just for a moment too long, enough to make Alastair believe he declined the request, and his hand quirked in pain for a moment. His face became emotionless - and Thomas had feared he misleadingly deceived Alastair that he didn't want them after all. That he didn't want him.

In moments, he climbed on the bed. He coddled Alastair, silently and diligently. "Tell me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," Alastair retorted eventually. He rubbed his eyes and laid back on the bed board. Then after a moment. "Everything."

"I hate it when I see you suffer and I don't know why," Thomas whispered. "I want to help. More than anything. But you push me away and I am left to think it might be because of me, because-"

"No," Alastair said firmly, extending his hands to cup Thoams's. "You have never been anything but good to me. It's just-," he broke off.

Thomas searched his foggy eyes. "I don't blame you," he told him, "If it's hard for you. But trust me enough to tell me what bothers you, thus we could face it together." He collected his hands in his own, lifting them so he could kiss his knuckles. "I know I want to stand by your side whatever the cost." he was certain about that; No whirlwind to come could change it. "Will you let me?"

Instead of an answer, Alastair kissed him.

Thomas knew he was kind, forgiving, trusting. He knew Alastair was slow to trust, slow to reveal his true feelings, hiding behind sharp words to secure himself from being harmed by people close to him. He knew the world broke his heart - so viciously, and that he took the pieces that were left. It was undoubtedly hard. Alastair had changed so much, yet Thomas wanted to understand, to reassure Alastair they were in this together.

"Hamsar-am," Alastair said when they pulled away. "I will try."

Thomas smiled at the endearment term. His heart was throbbing fast. "I was mad," he confessed, "because you refused to tell me what's wrong. You pretended. And I - I don't want facades, my love. I want the truth. I want you."

"I don't want to be weak around the people I love," Alastair whispered, and Thomas understood. To what extent did he fear that if he shows weakness, his friends and family would suffocate him again, shield him from the world as they did when he was younger? How much he feared at slightest of weakness shown, he would be smothered as Thomas had been when he was too small, too fragile?

But Alastair never did that. He supported him in his way, allowed him to be weak without acting as if Thomas was made of glass. "So not weak to everyone," He was astonished he found it in himself to laugh softly. "Each other will be enough. We can be vulnerable with one another."

Alastair stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, a faint smile appeared on his lips. "Okay."

"This is just another way of trust."

So Alastair told him. He told him about the rumors he heard from the London enclave about his family, the looks he had gotten. Of the words of people who were white while Alastair was brown. He didn't mind, much, but it drew attention to his family. And to Thomas. Respectable family and a kind heart seemingly weren't enough to make the rumors - and who spread them - silence. The opposite is correct - the fire burned even brighter, and its flame was like cutting knives. The people who matter didn't care about their agreement, and Alastair long stopped paying attention to rumors. But when it was about Thomas, he said, he had been furious. The stories unfolded, the truth shone through, and the more Alastair talked - not just about rumors, but on the way some of the people treated him, of the Cornwall's townhouse and its residents, the things his soul troubled about were finally out.

Thomas listened, understood, stroked Alastair's cheek when he seemed to start shaking again, but now out of relief instead of concealed agony.

They sunk into a comfortable silence in the end. Up until Alastair inquired, "You were out for so long. Where were you?"

"At the institute," Thomas replied. The concept of coming back to his parents' townhouse, admitting the quarrel, rewinding it all in his head countless times while enduring Sophie and Gideon's worrying looks, was nothing he wished to do. "Or somewhere I could avoid anyone."

"And now?" he asked tentatively. "You come back?"

"I have no intentions to leave this bed even if Ariadne herself will come to pluck me off the sheets." He affirmed.

Alastair's smirk became genuine this time. "Ariadne was here today."

When Thomas said "I know" he got a quizzical look from Alastair so he supplied, "She found my whereabouts and made me go confront you. Not much subtly, may I add."

"Yes. This jinx made me open up the door and refused to leave until I told her what happened."

Thomas silently laughed.

"I..suppose it was rather cathartic," Alastair said. It was evening now, Thomas noted, and none of them found it in themselves to get up and eat supper. They just kept their bodies close, relishing their air of comfort.

"Indeed. This, this was good. Splendidly better than reading the same page over and over again in the Devil's tavern or pretending to care what waistcoat Matthew is taking to the impending party at Anna's flat."

"You thought the place you and your squad go to hide is the best place to hide from them?" Alastair asked.

"It seemed reasonable at the time," Thomas murmured. "Each of us has a kind of hideout, have we not?"

Where was Alastair's safe hideaway? At home, with a book in hand? At museums, drinking in art and beauty? Was it hiking in the streets of London by himself and enjoying the view and the whispers of nature?

"You," Alastair said. Thomas hadn't realized he voiced his question aloud. A tired, small smile played on Alastair's lips, yet his words were soft, plain and simple. Their eyes locked, and he could feel how genuine Alastair was. "You are my hideout."

~~~~~

Dictionary:

man nemidânam - I don't know

Eshgham - my love

Hamsar-am - my equal head, my better half

#alastair carstairs #thomastair #thomas lightwood #the last hours #my fics #thomastair fics #for the matter Thomas does NOT know how to help Alastair in the state he was in. He doesn't know the right way to approach this.#They just found solace in physical affection so he found it fitting there too #I'm sorry #littlx-songbxrd #carstairstessa #Besides I take centuries to write because not only I am extremely busy (and sunk way too deep into the fluff fic and Choi)#but have to wait for inspiration to strike. It works not another way.#so sorry

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unprofessional-bard · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11 - The Introduction

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: Fluff, smut (just a good ol' handjob in a tub and implied smut) and a lil bit of angst/tense situations + uncomfortable talks/thoughts of pregnancy and trauma.

Summary: Unprepared for the consequences, the reader has to put up with two new arrivals, even though there's something off about them. Something more than just the shock of survival.

Word Count: 6.810

Author's Note: This chapter is set between April and July 2036, I apologise bc the reader is slowly turning into her own character, like Dolly's becoming an OC 😭 but yeah I love you all so much, thank you for reading my series 🥺💗

Enjoy!

"Well, well, what have we here."

The trio halted in their tracks as your voice echoed in the stables, your flashlight shining on them.

"Hey, Dolly," Ellie turned around, dying inside. Beside her was Cat and Jesse, turning around with pursed lips. "What'cha doin'?"

"Oh not much- patrol, you know," You said nonchalantly, walking towards them with threatening steps as you did. "Making sure people don't sneak off in the middle of the night with the horses. Kinda like what you three are doing."

"We weren't sneaking off," Jesse chuckled, but the panic in his voice gave him away easily. "We're just here to... feed the horses?"

"They're being fed regularly, you know that, so cut the crap." You spoke sternly. "Where the hell are you all off to?"

"We were just-" Ellie took over. "We're meeting with Dina. Eugene is there with her."

"What for?" You inquired. "What does Eugene have to do with whatever it is you're planning?"

They were struggling to reveal the truth, but Ellie knew better than to lie. She knew that, as long as it was the truth you wouldn't get angry; it was your thing and Ellie had noticed it from the Boston QZ, so she gave a look to Cat, whom you suspected to be Ellie's girlfriend, and she spoke: "Eugene has weed."

"Ex-cuse me?" Your eyes widened with a long blink at the three words. You weren't against it or anything, but you were just shocked- How and where in hell did Eugene find weed?

"Yeah, shit- Uh, we'll head back," Jesse mumbled.

"No it's-" You quickly recovered and fixed your posture. "How?"

"We were going to find out," Cat offered an apologetic smile.

"Christ," You chuckled. "Oh, Eugene, Eugene..." You quickly look around, a devilish smirk spreading across your face. "You know what? Go."

"Are you serious?" Ellie asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. I'm not gonna rob you bunch from your teenage years," You chuckled. "Under one condition: I'll ride with you all."

"Oh, okay," Cat grinned excitedly and proceeded to climb on a horse, Jesse mirroring her actions after he offered his thanks.

"Okay," You pointed at the rifle you had in your hands after climbing on a horse. "Let's ride quick, I'm probably gonna get in a lot of trouble as it is, so..."

"Thanks, Dolly," Ellie spoke after she settled behind Cat.

If Eugene wasn't there, you wouldn't have let them out and would've proceed to fetch anyone who was already outside. You knew they could handle themselves, but you just didn't want anything to happen to them. It had just finished raining so it was extremely dark outside. After the quiet and fast ride, you saw them off into the partly wrecked building.

"If it's legit, we'll bring you some." Jesse smirked after the girls waved goodbye and walked in.

"Go on, get!" You chuckled and shooed at him, then began riding back the way you came while ignoring the offer, which was actually quite enticing.

It was near dawn when you heard a bunch of horses riding at full speed, nearing your position. The sky was turning a bright shade of blue, and you couldn't deny the beautiful scene in front of you. The air smelled of earth and remnants of rain from a few hours ago and there were the occasional chirping of birds and a squirrel here and there - the peace however was gone the moment the horses appeared. You immediately shot up from your place to see what was going on, shoulder aching a little whenever you gripped your rifle (the bullet which had teared its way into your flesh right before your showdown with Axel, although healed for the most part, still hurt).

You let out a relieved sigh when you recognised Ellie's red hair and Eugene's white ones, then you saw Dina and Jesse, but there were two other people you didn't know riding with them. You blinked a couple of times after you lowered your rifle, then shouted down to Cedric: "Open the gate!"

You made your way down and immediately went over to Eugene and the strangers, hand on your rifle just in case: "Hey, what's going on?"

"Cedric, take them to Kat, have her take a look at their wounds," Eugene instructed and he immediately obliged. After they disappeared and the kids went to put their horses in the stables, he spoke: "We were on our way back here when we heard shouting, found this couple fighting for their lives against a dozen infected in the woods. We took them down easily and offered them help afterwards... They're a bit freaked out, but they'll be okay."

"Okay, I'll let Ma-" You suddenly stopped, realisation dawning on you. "How the hell are we gonna tell Maria?"

Eugene looked deep in thought for half a minute, then spoke: "Tell her it was me and Dina. We were patrolling anyways-"

"What about the couple?"

"We'll ask them to say it was just the two of us, and to decrease the number of infected, problem solved. Relax, will ya?"

You nodded quickly, then walked off after telling him to alert the kids about the plan.

You stopped by the infirmary first. Daisy and a new medic, Angie, were tending to them and Cedric was standing guard while Kat wasn't present. You walked up to your patrol partner and tapped his shoulder: "You can go now, I'll take over from here."

"Sure," He shrugged, yawned, then waved goodbye. You slowly approached the beds the pair were sitting on, opposite each other, the grip on your rifle strong.

"How are you two holding up?" You said awkwardly, making them look between themselves before the woman spoke.

"We'll be okay... Thanks for helping us."

"Right- sure," You sighed quietly. "Could I ask for your names?"

The young woman looked at her partner once more, as if asking for permission, then looked back at you: "I'm Kiki... This is my husband Ward."

You nodded and offered a simple nice to meet you, but didn't give your name to them. Instead, you turned to Daisy: "Let me know when you're finished."

She nodded and proceeded with her stitches before you left the room. You weren't the one to judge people right off the bat, especially in the apocalypse. A lot of newcomers (including you) came here looking bewildered and drained because they were either almost eaten by a pack of infected or murdered by bandits, simple as that.

Ward was a brunette with a dark stubble, thicker than Joel's and had short, black hair. His nose was large but suited the rest of his face just fine, with big, dark brown eyes. A scar ran over the crook of his nose down his cheek and he looked hardened, just like everyone else. Kiki, on the other hand, was also a brunette, but her features weren't as sharp as Ward's, or she was just much younger than him. She had long, black hair and her eyes matched the colour; she was also smaller than Ward, with a petite figure. She was very beautiful, too and looked frightened rather than hardened.

Around ten minutes later, Daisy walked out: "Angie's finishing up, but I'm done. I'm heading over to check on other patients, if you need me I'll be there."

"Okay," You nodded and walked back inside. The couple was neatly patched up and sitting quietly, eyes wide. When you walked in, Kiki jumped, but relaxed the same moment she saw your face. "Must've been through a lot, you two..."

"You could say that-" Kiki murmured, then looked over to Ward, who didn't seem to take notice of he conversation. There was a gash on his chin and he was squeezing the hell out of the bed sheets as Angie worked on the wound. He didn't make a single sound, but the nurse looked a little distressed. "Do you-" Kiki abruptly asked. "Do you run things around here?"

"Uh- No," You turned your head towards her, your grip on your rifle never faltering once. "No, I'm sort of responsible for the security. The boss lady will be here soon."

"Lady?" Kiki looked genuinely confused.

"Yes." You offered a simple nod. "I'm gonna ask something of you both. Don't worry, it's something simple."

Ward immediately intervened before Kiki could open her mouth: "What?"

"Relax," You warned, keeping your eye on him. "Angie, could you give us a minute?"

"Of course, I'm done anyways," She practically threw the equipments onto the small table next to the bed, took off her latex gloves, tossed them into the trash and ran out.

You gave Ward a hardened look, then spoke, walking between their beds, keeping them in your vision: "When the boss comes here, she's going to ask you a few questions... I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about the kids' being there when they found you."

"Why?" Kiki asked, worried.

"Well, they weren't supposed to be outside- Except for the girl with long, black hair and the man who brought you here. It'd save us a lot of trouble if you didn't mention them."

"So, what, you expect us to lie?" Ward huffed.

"No." You spoke coldly, rivaling his hostile tone. "I'm simply asking you to leave out the part where there were 4 kids- There was just one. Besides, she may not even ask about it."

Your staring contest with Ward ended when, as if on cue, Maria, Tommy and Eugene entered the room. You saw the fright in Kiki's eyes, so you spoke calmly: "Hey, it's okay. That's her, the boss lady- and her husband."

"Boss lady?" Tommy chuckled and stood next to you, Maria and Eugene mirroring him.

"It's okay," Maria spoke: "We got this, you can go now."

You nodded once and reluctantly walked out from the room. Stepping outside the infirmary, you came across Cedric waiting by the entrance. You shook your head towards the gates with a simple: "Let's go."

Cedric was almost 15 years younger than you, had even younger features than someone would have in their 30s. He had chin length, dirty blonde hair with hazel eyes fleeing to green. He was a calm and collected person, unlike most people in Jackson. Your tactics and strategical thinking were similar, which made patrol much more effective and easy.

Both of your shifts ended around two hours later, when the sun was up completely and shining down on the streets, calling people to duty; it was, however, your call to hit the bed. After turning over your weapons and heading your separate ways with Cedric, you walked over to your house, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of seeing Joel.

You hadn't seen each other in almost three days due to different shifts but, with the weekend off, you could finally rest in your husband's arms.

You quietly entered the house and tiptoed up the stairs. The bedroom door was closed, he was obviously still asleep. Normally, he'd be awake by 7AM, but lately he'd been really hard on himself with patrols- it was only right he treated himself to a few extra hours of sleep. You really wanted to crawl next to him, or just take a small peak inside the room to see him, but you knew better. He awoke to the slightest creak of the bed when you got up, or simply turned to drink some water. You wanted him to rest though, that came first, so you used the bathroom outside your room to get cleaned up, then moved into the bathtub to treat yourself. It had been a while since you let your muscles rest and relax in the deliciously hot water.

Not even five minutes later after you settled in the warmth, you heard the slow opening of the door. You opened your eyes to find Joel with nothing but his boxer briefs on, heart beating with ecstasy and joy at seeing him in his sleepy state: "Hey," You giggled. "Morning handsome."

"Mornin' baby," He rubbed the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" He smirked as he proceeded to take off his underwear.

"Probably not," You smiled apologetically, he'd quite possibly woken to the sound of the water filling. You extended both of your arms to him, calling him to your embrace while stretching and yawning: "Come here, I missed you."

The words made Joel stop in his tracks for a short moment, heart wearming at them, then walked over to the tub with his naked glory: "Scoot."

You simply leaned back and parted your legs, offering him to lay against you. He obliged, got in and sat, making the water level rise when he laid down against your chest. Your left arm rested on his chest, partly hugging him, while your right hand went through his hair. You gave him a kiss on his neck, a lovely kiss which made him sigh contentedly: "M-hm, I missed you too. Missed this..."

You wanted to stay like that forever: Caressing his hair and the occasional, soft kisses against his jaw, cheek and neck which made his heart melt. You could sense that this small gesture made him very happy, which in turn made you hug him tightly.

"What do you say we..." You purred into his ear. "Ditch the dinner plans for tonight, hm?"

His eyes were closed when he spoke: "Why? Got somethin' else in that pretty little mind of yours?"

"Yeah," You confirmed, running your hand up and down his chest. "We could do something, just the two of us."

"Like...?"

"Hmm, like movie night? Or you can play me something?"

"Only if you sing." He grinned.

"Nope, scratch that," You chuckled and shifted under him a little. "Or we can just... You know, fuck." He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness. "What? You don't want to?"

"I didn't say that," He turned a little and looked up into your eyes with a brilliant smile. "I'd love nothing more, actually, but these are Jesse's parents." You sighed, disappointed, saying I know, I know. "We have two days to ourselves, (Y/N)- You can have me all to yourself, except for a few hours."

"Fine," You growled jokingly, smiled and kissed his lips softly.

What was intended to be a simple kiss now slowly moved in the direction of a filthy make-out session, his tongue parting your lips with ease and meeting yours. Joel grabbed your calf and caressed it slowly, while you took advantage of his distraction and sneaked a hand down his abdomen.

You shifted a little more to the side and took his cock in hand, which made him sigh and drop his head on your shoulder: "(Y/N)..."

"Hmm?" You hummed with a smile when your thumb pressed on his slit, making him hiss and become harder. "Let me take care of you, huh?"

You watched Joel's brows drawing together when you slowly started to pump him. You kissed the pulse on his neck, then moved down to his collarbone. His grip on your leg was more solid the firmer you worked his length, and he jumped ever so slightly when you bit down on his collarbone. His erection grew bigger by the second all the while you sucked and bit a small hickey on his skin.

"Shit..." He shifted in the water, pulling himself upwards so that you didn't have trouble reaching for his shaft.

"You want me to go faster?" You whispered and kissed his shoulder. He nodded but didn't speak and let you work your magic.

You picked up pace, flicking your wrist and focusing on the underside of his head, making him groan broken, unclear profanities. After a while, you felt him tense under your touch, his breathing turning a little laboured.

"(Y/N)..." He sighed through gritted teeth, letting you have your way with him.

"That's it..." You cooed and continued kissing him. Soon, he let out a loud groan and came, making you moan quietly.

Seeing Joel like this -relaxed and euphoric- was always a treat, moments like this where it was just the two of you; no infected, no survival, no bullshit from tha past. You were aware of how it was a luxury to do the things you were able to do: Taking a hot bath, finding someone you loved and marrying them, sleeping on a bed with clean sheets without worrying if infected or bandits were going to jump you.

You were grateful, you were reminded of this everyday, but it took its toll on you, too.

A lot of people, innocent kids were out there, suffering- dying, surviving... You wished you had the power to help them all and rebuild, but you were aware of how dangerous it was out there. It was simply too risky to leave Jackson. You weren't some superhero, after all.

Not a hero...

"What's got you thinkin'?" Joel snapped you out of your thoughts, his fingers ever so gently tracing your cheekbone as you laid on the bed across each other. It was night-time, after dinner with Jesse and his parents and, of course, a round of much needed love making. You both were a little sleepy, definitely content with sweat covering your bodies like a thin layer of blanket.

You looked into his eyes from where your head was -which was on the crook of your elbow, resting on your pillow- and gave him a phantom of a smile, nodding slightly: "Nothing in particular. You?"

"You," He smiled, which made you chuckle. Convincing Joel that you were absolutely, 100% okay was getting trickier as he'd spent just enough time to sense a depressive episode's approach; you didn't want to burden him with your self-doubt and self-loathing, as you hated it when his mood shifted for the worse because of you. "Wonderin' what goes on in that head of yours."

"Wish I knew that myself," You grabbed his hand which was tracing the left side of your face, then turned the back of it for a kiss.

You knew, though. While you and Joel were helping with the dishes in the kitchen, Jesse's mother, Robin had asked if you were planning on having any children. The question you'd been dying to avoid had finally been asked, which made you drop the plate you had in your hand into the sink. It truly was an off-guard moment for you, which startled Joel, but luckily the topic was never brought up again after the plate in question shattered into pieces. You weren't sure if you wanted a child, not after the incident with Miles.

The moment when the contents of his skull splattering onto the ground while he was in your arms- under your supervision haunted you day and night. You never talked about it to anyone, and no one had asked, but it only intensified after your wedding. Because you knew what people had in their minds: Will we be seeing a Joel or Dolly Jr. running around?

You were fucking old, too, and so was Joel. Even if you didn't know whether you'd be able to carry due to that, there was no point in risking it either way, since I clearly suck at watching over kids.

"I think you do," He pushed himself closer to you and sneaked the hand against your mouth onto your waist, propping his arm up and putting his head against the palm of the other. "You just don't wanna talk about it. Which is okay, y'know." You nodded, smile growing a bit wider. "We've been over this before, but If you ever feel like- y'know... you're borin' me or something-"

"I know," You offered a full smile, pushing your thoughts away at the best of your ability. "I see you, Joel Miller," You then put a hand against his chest, where his heart should be: "I know you, you know me... You know what I think?"

He gave you a curious look, but it got replaced with something that hinted excitement when you ever so slowly pushed him on his back with the hand on his chest, then straddled his hips. Joel chuckled: "How is it that you still have this much energy after only four hours of sleep?"

The sleep in question took place after the 'mingling' in the bath. Warm April breeze, even warmer covers and warmest above all, Joel's body pressed against yours, both of your hairs wet and drying on their own as you slept in your lovers arms. He woke up after an hour or so, lingered there for awhile, just enjoying your presence by his side; he then quietly left you to sleep- lord knows you needed it.

"You're just getting old, baby," You giggled and leaned down to kiss him, his hands immediately going to your hips. "Not complaining, though."

An uneventful few weeks passed as Jackson entered the first week of June. Two losses in the town, but no new arrivals after Katie- Kiki and Ward. No raids as well, so overall it was calm.

After reporting in about the week in general, one evening, Maria asked you to stay behind: "It's time for Ward and Katie to go through the test," She declared. "We gotta see if they're fit for patrol or not."

"You got it. When?"

"Tomorrow. I already notified them, we'll meet at the northern training post-"

"We who?" You ran a hand through your hair.

"You and me. Robert and Eugene were supposed to be there originally, but they'll be off hunting." She explained and you nodded. Without further ado, you walked out and made your way back home.

The next morning, Joel accompanied you to the training post. Normally it was your day off with him, but training awaited. The weather was particularly hot for an early morning, so it came to you as a little shock when you saw Kiki, who was wearing a rather thick looking blouse. You didn't question it of course, but it made you think.

"Alright," You cleared your throat, after a quick greeting, stepping into the open training area. Joel and Maria remained inside, arranging the medical needs list while keeping an eye on you three. "I'm gonna put you two through a little test. Maria tells me you decided to stay here in Jackson, so we need to decide which duties you're fit for."

Ward remained incredibly still while Kiki nodded. Her hands were resting between her knees, while Ward had his arms crossed. They were sitting on a bench under the shade: "It's going to get a little physical, but I assure you I'm not going to hurt either of you." You turned around and walked over to the middle of the area: "Right, let's start with you, Kiki."

She gave a panicked look to Ward, but he just nodded with a thoughtful frown, rather than a permitting glare. Over the weeks they had been in Jackson, people sort of got used to their non-verbal interactions, even though some people found it suspicious. She got up and made her way over to you and, by the look on her face, regretted her outfit of choice as she tried to loosen the collar.

"If you want to stop- at any moment, let me know," You reassured her. She nodded, went to roll her sleeves up, but stopped immediately. You acted like you didn't see it, then proceeded to get in stance and lift your hands up: "Okay, let's start with something simple. Show me your stance."

She gave you a blank stare: "My what?"

"Your... stance, you know, fighting stance?"

"I don't have one," She simply shrugged.

"Okay," You sighed quietly. "Then show me how you punch."

She threw what could've been a proper punch but it was weak, you immediately caught her fist in your palm. She panicked and pulled back, and you immediately let go. You glanced at Ward, who seemed to be on high alert.

"Again," You got into stance and she obliged, throwing another weak punch your way. Her stance was there, actually, and her punches came through like she knew what she was doing, but the impact wasn't effective.

It went on a couple more punches, which you caught in your hand each time, until she spoke: "Why do you do that?"

"What?" You lowered your hands.

"You keep holding my hands," It was as if she was more annoyed than confused. "Can you not do that?"

"It's a reflex-" You explained, glanced at Ward again, then looked back at her. "I do it with everyone I train, but if you don't want me to then it's fine."

Not everyone, only the ones with punches as slow, weak and predictable as hers.

"Okay, now let's try some... combos," You added and got in a more secure stance. "Throw one punch after another. Fast and hard. Don't hold back."

"I'm not holding back," She grunted and did a typical boxing combo, which, generally, only people trained in boxing knew- but her punches were still weak. You remained quiet and let her go at it for a few rounds.

You suddenly took a step back, raised your hand up to the same level as your face and spoke: "Kick."

Instead, she went to kick you between your legs. A rush of panic and years of reflexes kicked in and you caught her feet between your knees. You looked up with a what the fuck was that? expression on your face and waved your hand in the air: "I meant here."

"We're fighting, right? We need to be unpredictable," She said with a tone of... irritation? Was she snickering?

"Do I look like a bandit to you?" You let go of her leg, giving her a displeased look.

"You did say you wanted to see what we were capable of."

Where was this sudden confidence coming from all of a sudden?

She was always a little weird with you. Not that you saw her too often but the moments when you two were together, one minute she'd look like she wanted to be your friend (which was when Joel was around), other times she'd remind you of a cruel, rank-wise superior back in the Boston QZ (which was when Joel wasn't around).

You gave her a hard look: "Alright. Let's see how you're gonna do when someone's actually fighting you, then."

Her expression went from somewhat cocky to seriousness as you took a few steps foward and towered over her. Your instructions were simple and clear when you spoke: "I'm gonna put you in a lock. Wriggle out of it."

You slowly grabbed her wrist, giving her time to get ready and process what you were doing. Then, you twisted her arm carefully around her waist and turned her around, pressing her arm on her back, only for her to suddenly squeal: "Okay! Enough!"

You quickly took a step back, startled at her reaction, you weren't even applying the slightest pressure. Ward suddenly shot up from where he was sitting and yelled: "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything!" You frowned.

"It's okay!" Kiki suddenly stepped in front of Ward who was advancing your way. "I panicked, she didn't-"

"Woah there," You suddenly heard Joel and Maria approach the field. Confusion was superior to your anger at that moment: Had you really hurt her?

"Calm down," Maria put her hands on her hips. "She specifically warned you that she wouldn't hurt you under any circumstances. Relax."

You gave Maria a grateful look as he defended you: "I didn't even apply pressure- Look, no one's here to hurt you on purpose."

Ward and Kiki stared into each other's eyes, and by all means it was not a romantic moment, then the bigger of the two finally groaned: "I think she's had enough. For today."

"You think?" You unintentionally slipped it out, but the companions by your side seemed to agree with what you were getting at. "Do you want to stop Kiki?"

"Um," She looked at the three of you, chewing on her bottom lip, then answered quietly after a tense moment of silence: "Yeah, I think I should stop."

"Fine," You said, trying to keep your voice as netural as possible. "Let's continue with you then, Ward." Before anyone could say anything, you and the man you challenged found yourselves back on the middle of the combat area. "Show me your stance and let's begin."

He did as you asked but didn't wait for you to size him up, throwing a punch into your palm as soon as you lifted it, startling your audience. That didn't stop either of you from starting off with a much quicker and a harsher routine, which seemed to have everyone on edge.

You didn't counter once, but it was as if he was forcing you out of the defensive with his strikes, not to mention he was forcing you to step out of the area.

"What the hell's goin' on?" Tommy half jogged over to where the three were standing, watching you two roll from a snowball into an avalanche. Ward was grunting with each hit missed, anger taking over his features, while you kept your cool. It was as if he was riling himself up because he couldn't land a punch - his aim was messy and unstable, which was nothing compared to your years of disciplinary training.

"Okay, I think you've proved your point, Ward." Maria spoke loudly after Tommy's sudden entrance, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"I agree," You grunted and dodged a rather heavy looking punch, rolled over behind him and got up immediately; before you could say anything else, thinking he had stopped, you momentarily let your guard down. Everybody seemed to have thought the same, but what none of you saw coming was the exceptionally hard blow on your nose.

"What the fuck?!" You heard someone, weren't sure who, yell as you saw a blur of people rushing toward you when you stumbled backwards, hands wrapping around your possibly broken nose with a brief shout.

Giving into your anger, before anyone can get a grip of what you were doing, you launched yourself at Ward: "Son of a-" You grabbed the collar of his shirt and headbutted him: "Bitch!"

It was beyond everyone just how fast you had moved, broke his nose with an equally strong strike and had him falling on his arse. Kiki rushed to his husband's side, Maria to yours while Tommy kept Joel from ripping Ward to shreds. You were sure you were going to pass out when Maria got a hold of you, feeling as if you were under water with the blurring of your vision and hearing. The adrenaline rush in your veins kept you from losing consciousness, though.

"(Y/N)?" Maria's voice got clearer each passing second as you chased the lingering faint away from your mind, finally opening your eyes completely to see a displeased face. "(Y/N) are you okay?"

"Yeah," You sighed, whipping your hands in the air around your waist to shake off the droplets of blood from your bleeding nose as best as you could, tears at the corners of your eyes. "Just fine and dandy."

You felt the familiar, calloused hands of Joel gently hold your elbows as Maria turned around to see to Ward: "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Joel," You nodded and wiped the blood on your white t-shirt in a pissed, exhausted manner.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You heard Maria growl at Ward, who was still shaken and sitting on the ground, face looking about the same as yours. "You can't just come up and punch people because you got angry at them! This is Jackson: You're not outside, and she isn't your enemy."

"It's okay- I'm sorry Maria- He's a little, uh," Kiki whined on her knees where she had knelt, but went quiet when he looked behind her to see you and Joel.

"You're not his mother, Katie," The blonde spoke, more calm now but no less strict. "He can speak for himself, and the same goes for you."

There was an intense moment between the three, while Tommy nodded at what Maria had said, his hands on his hips, looking at them disapprovingly: "Alright, c'mon, let's get you to a doc."

Joel in the meanwhile, like a mother duck, studied your nose and held a piece of cloth against the bleeding. He kept you focused on him while Maria and Tommy handled the other couple: "Fuckin' bastard..."

You chuckled at the way he grumbled as he wiped the blood off your nose gently: "Got what he was asking for though, don't go around wanting to kick his ass."

"Yeah, that was a pretty damn good hit..." He spoke, but his voice faded into the background when you curiously looked over to see what was going on, only to come across Kiki's face first things first. What you saw on her face sent a shiver down your spine.

Anger.

Not because you hurt Ward though, no. It was more than that.

It was jealousy.

You knew both because you had spent enough time with her to understand what that look meant, and her expression wasn't hard: It was soft, a certain yearning spread across her features as her eyes went back and forth between you and Joel. You couldn't tell what irked you the most: The way she looked at you, or him. You seemed to add more to her anger, while when she stared at your husband (and stared at him longer), there was longing and confusion.

The moment you made eye contact, she immediately turned around and scurried off, leaving you two and Maria alone.

"Hm? Dolly?" You heard Joel again once you brushed off the odd stare you got from Kiki.

"What?" You gave him a puzzled look.

"I asked if you wanted to have this looked at," He repeated in a soft voice. Most of the time, with small scratches or wounds which didn't need stitches or weren't cut too deep to get an infection or anything, you preferred handling it on your own to not waste the town's medical supplies.

"No, I got it," You nodded quickly and took a step back, feeling your nose while Maria approached you both.

"What the hell was that, (Y/N)?" She had her hands on her hips as well.

"I don't know, Maria," You emphasised each word, making your discomfort and irritation show. "...I have a few ideas though."

You moved inside, away from the burning sun and began discussing your first impression.

"So, what do you think?" Maria asked from behind her desk. Two pairs of eyes watched you quietly as you sat up on your chair, still holding the cloth up to your nose.

"Well, they're definitely not military, I can tell you that much. They don't know the first thing about combat - Kiki doesn't, anyway." Something's not right with them, you wanted to say, but decided to keep it to yourself for the time being and continued: "She's weak, can't even throw a punch. Almost lost her shit when I put her into that lock- I couldn't even put her into the lock, she just screamed."

"Yeah, what was up with that?" Maria asked but didn't demand an answer, it was more like a rhetorical question. You explained how she also went out of the training routine and tried to kick you, but again, it was weak.

"It's actually not that she's weak, but more like she's holding back," You said thoughtfully after a moment of silence.

"How do you mean?" Joel spoke for the first time.

"I mean, you can feel that she's holding back on purpose." Much as you hated your years in FEDRA, your experience with training and being trained came in handy on a daily basis - as much as you hated it, you were also grateful. "While Ward, on the other hand," You shifted in your seat, annoyed, "Fights like a feral beast, and I can tell that wasn't his full potential."

Joel growled quietly and crossed his arms. You then continued with your observation: "I don't want to be too quick on my judgement, but there's something not right with them."

Tommy walked in at that moment: "Well, that was a shit show."

"What happened?"

"They argued the whole way," Tommy sighed and pulled a chair between you and Joel, then sat exactly the same way his brother was sitting. "It was... weird is one way to put it."

"Let's keep them under supervision for awhile," You offered.

"You're volunteering?" Maria raised a brow.

"Hell no, not after that anyway. My existence would just antagonise them."

"What are you suggestin'?" Tommy turned to you.

"Put them through another training session with Walt, he'll know what I'm talking about... And Eugene found them, so maybe he'll be up for the task."

A moment of quiet and glances were exchanged among the family, then Maria cleared her throat: "Fine, we'll see what the other's think of that and vote for it."

"Okay. Now if you'll excuse me..." You murmured and got up, walking out of the room absentmindedly, deep in thought. A headache settled to the front of your head and you felt fatigue take over as soon as you stepped outside, while you left the other Millers confused.

"Hey," You heard Joel's soft voice from behind you not much later, which made you stop in your place and turn around. You gave him a blank stare, the cloth holding hand dropping to your side to reveal the smeared, dried blood around your nose. Without any rush, he walked over to you with a worried look and stood right in front of you.

After gazing into each other's eyes fro a while, Joel no doubt searching yours to understand what was going on and you just finding comfort in his, he slowly took your empty hand in his. With a soft tilt of his head in the direction of your house, you blinked once in acknowledgement and started walking with him.

Your anger and irritation started dissipating the more you walked like that, hand in hand and in silence, but your headache and slowly worsening mood, the taste of blood on your tongue remained. Not many words needed to be said with Joel, he knew what you needed by just one look. You were sure if Kurt saw you like that, he would laugh until his lungs couldn't take it: Look at you! Although the thought made your heart warm, it wasn't enough to lift the corners of your lips. You unconsciously held onto Joel's hand tighter as you walked to your house, and he returned the gesture, a simple gesture- an assurance that let you know he had you.

Once you stepped inside and he closed the door while you stood in the hallway, he walked up to you and held your shoulders and gave you a soft, still concerned look. You looked up at him with a soft sigh through your nose some seconds later, and finally spoke: "I'm gonna... I'm gonna go lay down a little."

"Okay," Joel gave you a reassuring smile and placed a kiss on your forehead. "You let me know if you need anything."

"Of course," You smiled back, a lifeless, small but an equally reassuring smile. Joel watched you climb up the stairs slowly, thinking about how long it would take you to feel better while also thinking of how he could make you feel at ease during the time.

His fears were similar to yours: He didn't want you to feel responsible or upset because of his own self-doubt and self-loathing, and he hated having you show all the effort to make him feel better about himself, about the things he had done. You kept assuring him that that was what being partners was all about, that you do what you do for him gladly and would continue doing it for as long as you were able (which meant as long as you were alive). He was glad to have you by his side, but of course didn't rely on you as if you were a rehabilitation centre, and it went both ways.

While thinking about all of this, with a cup of coffee in hand and sitting on his porch, his ears perked up at the round of laughter coming from behind the house. It was then, when he came up with a plan to make you feel better, even in the slightest.

Ellie.

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tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #x reader #smut

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 6: Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Finally, I write most of the chapter before the day I’m supposed to post it. This was mostly done on my laptop (which I’m not used to) as we just moved and my PC is barely set up, so forgive anything that looks weird or wonky. As always, I hope you enjoy. I love getting all your kind messages <3 (Also message me if you want to be on the taglist - I suppose I should be better about that!)

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 6, Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter Summary: Events during a new case test your ability to keep your feelings hidden, and a night out takes an unforeseen turn.

Words: 3736

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Turns out, lying to Hotch was easier than you thought.

It helped that you were lying to yourself too, of course - that you pretended your gaze didn't linger on his form whenever he was in your vicinity, that the swell of pride in your chest when he agreed with something you said was purely professional. There were times, though, that the facade was much harder to maintain. The most recent case had been one of those times.

You had been tracking down an unsub abducting children in a rural Iowa town. Three kids had gone missing in the span of two weeks, and after Garcia matched the victimology and MO with neighboring states, it looked to be close to a dozen in the years before that. The case started off rough enough - locals refused to believe it could be one of their own, police resisted the BAU’s guidance, the usual - but it came to a head when a fourth child went missing during the investigation.

Thankfully, the team figured out the identity of the unsub relatively quickly. Reid did a geographical profile of all the locations where victims were taken and found a public health clinic that had branches in each area. Garcia cross-checked the employee records to find that only one doctor had done travel shifts at each clinic during the time the children were taken, and within minutes, you were rushing to his address.

The SUV carrying Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss arrived long enough before yours that by the time you pulled up, they were already kicking down the door and entering the home. The first thing you heard after you flung the car door open was the deafening crack of a weapon firing, and despite your lack of training with firearms, it was apparent that it was not an FBI-issue pistol.

You would never describe yourself as fragile - you couldn't be, not in this line of work. But when you registered the implications of that sound, your knees buckled, instantly bringing you down onto the dusty ground outside the farmhouse. The rest of the team sprinted in, guns drawn. You faintly registered Prentiss yelling inside, then more gunshots, but your head was ringing so loudly from the visceral panic that you couldn’t make out anything specific.

When Hotch burst back out onto the porch, you thought you might honestly sob with relief. That is, until you caught the glint of the sun in the slick, dark blood dripping down the sleeve of his suit.

That was when you puked.

Something about the sight of Aaron Hotchner bleeding felt so wrong that even as you struggled to your feet and stepped over the pile of sick you left in the dirt, even as you got closer and saw the rivulets of blood drip down to his fingertips and dot the wooden floors of the porch, you felt like you were in a dream. Your mind couldn’t grasp the sudden shock of his mortality, that he could bleed, that he could die, even, and he very well might, depending on what vessels were hit. You made it up the steps, only managing to call out his name - his first name - your throat still burning from bile. Despite the chaos of the current moment, he still whipped his head around at the sound of that, as if hearing the name Aaron desperately falling from your lips was more attention-grabbing than the rest of the team gathering around him trying to stem the bleeding.

“It looks worse than it is,” said Rossi, peering through the holes in Hotch’s mangled sleeve. “It was just buckshot, and he barely hit you. Nothing a few stitches won’t fix.”

He turned out to be right, thank god, and later that afternoon, Hotch was freshly bandaged and sitting across from you on the return flight to Quantico.

So, yeah, the “lying to yourself” thing wasn’t going so well at that moment. Hotch was absorbed in paperwork while the rest of the team napped - because of course he was; even being shot didn’t sway his apparently relentless refusal to relax - and each time he winced at the movement of his arm, your vice grip around your chest tightened a little more.

He must have sensed you staring, because he looked up, frown softening slightly as he saw the concern on your face.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he assured you with a half smile.

Teetering on an emotional precipice, too scared to respond for fear of falling over the edge, you went back to your reading. After a few minutes of listening to him write while not turning a single page in your book, he set his pen down and took a breath.

“You were screaming my name,” he said, quietly, despite you two being the only ones awake.

“What?”

“Earlier,” he clarified, “when we went into the house. I could hear you outside, yelling my name.”

You looked at him, incredulous. “Of course I did. I heard the shotgun go off. Clearly,” you gestured at his arm, “I had a reason to be worried.”

He shook his head and cleared his throat, as if you didn’t understand the question. “Dave and Emily were with me. Any of us could have gotten hit. You only yelled for me.”

Oh.

You shrugged. “You’re the team leader. It’s my instinct to call for you when something goes wrong."

It was a lie, and a bad one at that, but Hotch gave you an unreadable look and let the subject drop.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and when you finally made it back to your apartment, you had no plans other than to sleep off the stress of the case and the embarrassment of Hotch calling your actions into question. Garcia, however, wasn't about to let that happen.

BAU-tiful People Group Chat

Garcia: *added You to the conversation*

Garcia: Ok, my lovely children, I know you’re all tired, but I miss your faces, so I’ll see u at Whimsy tonight at 9! Notice I didn’t use a question mark bc it is NOT a question!

You knew from overhearing the team talk that Whimsy was a bar downtown they liked to frequent, but you’d never been invited before. Despite your overwhelming exhaustion, the idea of going out with the team, of finally feeling accepted by them, was enough to make you amenable to the concept. It may have seemed insignificant on the surface, but Garcia adding you to their group chat was the biggest welcome gesture you’d received yet.

Morgan: Only if you wear that dress you know I like ;)

You lived for the day they would realize they were actually flirting with each other instead of just pretending to.

Prentiss: Garcia… you’re killing me… but you know I’ll be there.

JJ: Contacting the babysitter as we speak.

Morgan: Fuck yeah!!! Pretty Boy, you in?

Reid: Can’t we ever go somewhere quiet?

As the group chimed in with various iterations of, “Shut up, Reid,” you hesitantly typed out a text to confirm your attendance. You were excited, of course, but nervous to be the new kid at their favorite hangout. After today's events, though, the desire not to be sober won out over nerves.

You: I’ll be there! Thanks for the invite!

Rossi: Hope you kids are ready for me to drink you under the table, as usual.

Morgan: Eyyy, you KNOW we party hard! See y’all tonight.

____________

Turns out, Morgan was not exaggerating. Not even a little bit. By the time you arrived, 15 minutes late, everyone looked to be at least 3 shots deep. Garcia ran over to greet you, squealing, and wrapped you in a suffocating hug.

“I’m so glad you came! What do you drink? Tequila? I’ll grab the next round!”

You laughed and confirmed that tequila sounded great, and as she scurried off to the bar with Morgan on her heels, you had a chance to look around.

The atmosphere of the club surprised you - it was all glass and steel and modernity, packed with people dancing to something with intense bass - not the low-key joint you’d pictured the team wanting to unwind at. But as you watched JJ, Prentiss, and Rossi cheer on Reid as he threw back a shot, doubling over in hysterics as he coughed and sputtered at the taste, you realized that this place was just loud and energetic enough to keep them from thinking about anything other than work. In that way, you definitely saw the appeal.

“I come bearing shots!” Garcia yelled as her and Morgan made it back to the table. “Grab yours… here we go- whoops! Alright, everyone got theirs?”

She turned to you, grinning behind a pair of hot pink spectacles. “Cheers not ONLY to rescuing four kidnapped children alive, but also to our lovely intern and her first Whimsy outing!”

The team erupted in cheers and you smiled back, downing the tequila. You chatted with the group while Garcia ordered more drinks, and then more drinks, and soon you felt a pleasant buzz filling your head.

“Morgan, you better ask me to dance right now before I go find another man to do the job,” Garcia said with a wink in his direction.

Morgan grinned and mock-bowed, holding out a hand for her to take, and led her off to the dancefloor.

“Should we join them?” JJ asked around the table.

“Someone’s gotta make sure they don’t do anything worth getting kicked out for,” Prentiss shot back. You giggled and followed the girls, leaving Rossi and Reid behind at the table in the midst of a heated debate about childhood brain development that you couldn’t even hope to comprehend.

Not long after you started dancing, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and turned around, looking up into the stunning green eyes of a man who looked to be about your age. It was hard to really tell what he looked like in the dim lighting, but by the way Prentiss was giving you a thumbs up and mouthing, “Go for it,” from your side, he was good enough for you.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked above the music. You smiled and nodded in confirmation, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to his hips.

He knew how to move, that was for certain. He ground against your backside lightly, snaking his hands around your stomach. You weren’t used to this kind of thing - dancing with random men at bars, letting them touch you like this - but the combination of the music and the booze and the relief at the last case being over was making you feel more free than you had in recent memory.

You exchanged grins with Morgan, who was dancing a few feet away in a much more R-rated manner with Garcia. The man behind you (whose name you didn’t know, but who cared?) leaned down to kiss your neck and you arched against him in response, reaching up to run your hand through his hair.

Throughout the song, you had rotated back to facing the table where the rest of your team was sitting. You glanced over, saw Reid and Rossi still deep in discussion, along with another man in a black button-up with a very familiar side profile and-

Hotch.

Hotch was here, and as if the powers that be were insistent upon proving to you that the opposite of serendipity existed, at the exact moment you had that realization, he turned and made direct eye contact with you. Drunk, wearing a skintight dress, a random man grinding on your ass, and staring right back at your Unit Chief at the motherfucking Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and if you had been drunker, you might have hurled tequila all over the dancefloor. Instead, you pulled away from the mystery man behind you, ignoring his shocked, “Wait!” and beelined to the bar.

“Tequila. Shot. Please, I’m sorry, just saw someone I didn’t expect to,” you blurted out to the bartender, swearing you could feel Hotch’s eyes on your back from across the club.

The bartender, probably having seen much worse, nodded in understanding and poured your drink. You gulped it down, wiped your mouth, and leaned on the bar to get your bearings.

It’s not weird. It’s not. It’s a bar, it’s outside of work hours, it’s perfectly fine that you’re buzzed and dancing and having fun. Everyone else is!

Really, it wasn’t that you were worried about your job, or even that he would judge you (he probably would, but that was unavoidable regardless of the setting), it was just that you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for the possibility that he would come. He was in the group chat - obviously, if he had seen Garcia’s invite - but had never struck you as the social type, the kind of boss that would interact with his team outside of work.

“Did you see that Hotch is here?” Prentiss asked breathlessly, appearing at the bar beside you.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one surprised.

“I did,” you whispered back, despite the thumping music and the rowdy patrons making it logically impossible for your words to reach the table 20 feet away. “Does he usually join you guys?”

“Never,” she said, before thinking and correcting herself, “Not in years, anyways. When Haley… we used to drag him out, but we stopped after a while.”

“Why do you think he came tonight?"

She shrugged. “Who knows? Far be it from me to explain why Hotch does anything.” An idea seemed to pop in her head, and she grinned. “Maybe it’s because of you!”

“M-me?” Your reaction to the suggestion wasn’t nearly as nonchalant as you’d tried for, but Prentiss was too drunk to notice.

“Yeah, gotta help initiate the intern on her first night out, right?” She grinned and clapped you on the shoulder, then turned away to head back to the dancefloor, leaving you alone. You sighed, gathered yourself as much as you could considering the effects of the tequila, and turned around to go greet him.

“Hey, Agent Hotchner. Didn’t expect to see you tonight!”

“Yes, well. Thought I’d show up for a bit; it’s been a while.” He gave you a tight lipped smile then looked back down at his glass of whisky, the awkward energy palpable.

Probably because he just saw you basically dry-humping some random dude.

“Well, I’m glad you came! Feel free to, uh, come dance if you want! Morgan and Garcia are showing us all up,” you said, gesturing to where Morgan and Garcia were in fact drawing the attention of several onlookers.

He chuckled at that. “They’re certainly a sight to behold, aren’t they?”

You nodded in agreement and headed back to the bar, the brief conversation pointing you towards yet another drink. Talking to him was so easy , sometimes, and others it was like pulling teeth to get a human response out of him. Could you blame him, though? Your last one-on-one interaction was you basically inviting yourself over to his apartment with takeout and listening to him spill his guts about his dead wife and kid, and he probably felt uncomfortable with you after that, and then you went right to this case without any chance for things to go back to normal, and then he got shot, and oh my god, you didn’t even ask him how his arm was doing, how fucking rude can you be, dumbass? and-

“Whoops! Shit, I’m sorry!”

You looked at the person you’d just bumped into in the midst of your internal crisis.

“Hey, it’s you!”

The man you’d been dancing with earlier, now much more obviously handsome in the brighter lights of the bar area, grinned in recognition.

“Hey, I thought I’d scared you off there!”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. Just saw my boss and freaked out a little bit.”

“Oh shit, your boss is here?” he asked. “That’s uncomfortable, damn. I’m sorry.”

“No worries, it’s just… yeah. Anyways. Wanna pick up where we left off?” you asked, more desperate than ever to get Hotch out of your head. If he didn’t want to see you having a wild night, he shouldn’t have come to the club.

He took your hand, looking pleased. “Lead the way.”

It really was so much easier, you thought, to let yourself feel attraction for guys like this. Uncomplicated, willing to take what you give them, no backstory to speak of. They weren’t riddled with tragic history, unattainable in both position and personality, not to mention impossible to even imagine ever returning your feelings. Guys like Cooper (you’d finally learned his name somewhere amid the grinding and groping) were easy and fun and they didn’t keep you up at night agonizing over whether that thing you said at work was impressive enough.

But then again, they didn’t give you the roller-coaster feeling in your stomach that Aaron Hotchner did every time you locked eyes.

And lock eyes you did - an increasingly frequent number of times, actually. It seemed like whenever you turned to face his direction, he was staring you down. He always went back to his conversation with Rossi and Reid, but you noticed that he seemed to get more and more pissed off with every song that played. His frown was deepened, his expression dark, and you could tell even from a distance that his knuckles were white from gripping his glass.

You shrugged it off as Hotch being Hotch - who knew what that man was thinking? And besides, you were trying to forget him, damn it. At least, that was until a particularly raunchy song came on and you were in the middle of getting your ass felt up, when you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder and whip you around, bringing you face-to-face with your boss himself.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is something wrong?” you asked, utterly bewildered as to why he was interrupting you.

He ignored you, instead staring down Cooper, who very quickly decided Hotch wasn’t one to fuck with and walked away.

“Hotch! Is there a case? Should I grab the others?”

He shook his head. “Can you come with me, please?”

Perplexed, you acquiesced (not that you had much of a choice, with the way he was gripping your elbow) and followed him through the crowd, out the back door, and into an alley. He let go of you then, sighing and crossing his arms.

Your mind was wild with questions - did you do something you shouldn’t have? Get too drunk? Everyone was drunk, though, and you weren’t even half as wasted as some of the others. Did Reid or Rossi tell him something bad about you? Were you about to somehow get yourself fired off the clock?

“The boy you were dancing with was bad news,” he said, after an uncomfortably long period of silence.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” you repeated, this time out loud, and you knew you shouldn’t be talking to him like this, but you were too caught off guard to conduct yourself more appropriately.

“He was a drug user,” Hotch said, as if that would explain everything.

“A drug user,” you repeated back, no less confused.

“Cocaine,” he continued. “He was high - his pupils were dilated, he was rubbing his nose, and he's been to the bathroom several times.”

“So… you’re going to arrest him? For doing cocaine?” you asked, still baffled as to what he was insinuating.

“What? No,” he said, “I’m trying to warn you not to get involved.”

You had entered some parallel universe, you decided. There was no other explanation for your boss, a man you’d known all of four months, dragging you outside a bar on a Friday night and telling you not to dance with a hot stranger because he was on cocaine.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you really did get yourself fired. “Sir, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t think it’s really any of your business.”

His face hardened at that. “It is exactly my business,” he said, eyes boring a hole through your skull, “to watch out for things that may compromise my team.”

“Compromise your team?” you repeated his words again. “I was dancing, not getting engaged to the guy.”

“Should I allow you to dance with a sexual sadist if it’s just dancing?” he pressed, using the stern voice that usually caused any sort of dissent to whither and die right in your throat.

It didn’t work this time, probably because he was acting fucking insane. “Are you seriously comparing a sexual sadist to a guy who does cocaine while he’s out partying?”

“It’s not just while he’s out partying, by the way he conducted himself, he was a chronic-”

“It doesn’t matter!” you said, nearly yelling now. “You had no right! I'm sorry, what are you, my dad?!”

His eyes flashed at that. “If I hadn’t already had to sit through an 8 hour surgery not knowing if Garcia was going to make it out alive because her date shot her, then perhaps I would have no right. But as it stands, I do. Please be more careful with who you associate with, even if it’s just dancing.”

He spat that last part out, more vitriolic than you’d ever seen him, and stalked back inside. You were left outside in the alley, alone, reeling from confusion surrounding the entire interaction and shock at the emotional charge he’d leveled at you.

Reentering the bar, you saw that Hotch’s seat had been vacated and his jacket was gone. You rolled your eyes, and on your way to the bathroom, nearly ran into Cooper again.

“Hey!” he said. “What was that all about? You good?”

You looked up at his face and for the first time, noticed faint traces of white dust around his nose. He looked keyed up, jumpy - his pulse racing and visible on his carotid. You sighed.

“I’m good. Just not in the mood right now, sorry,” and pushed past him into the bathroom.

Hotch was an emotionally stunted asshole with a control complex, but he was also never fucking wrong.

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i-like-plan-m · 3 years

Note

I love all your writing. You have a gorgeous way with words and a very well-thought-out approach to AUs. That being said, my favourite of your works has to be the "WWX is raised by another Sect." If you wanted to write something about WWX being raised by Baoshen Sanren, I would be all over it. ♡

Plus a similar prompt from @sabeanybabe!

I know you explore the bloodline of Sanren a lot, but I would like to see more fics where everyone gets super freaked about wwx bc of this. Maybe in this world he grows up on the immortal mountain, and leaves briefly (I like fics where he can go back to the mountain bc hes family, esp. bc he might not have the Jiangs). I'd love to see the reactions of when comes to the classes w/o invitation bc his grandma, the immortal, sent him. wwx disrupts CR in a different and new way

Posted to Ao3: wander the edges of light

“Stand up straight,” Lan Qiren hissed at a fidgeting disciple. Lan Wangji did not turn around, busy watching the path with Lan Xichen at his side and half the sect gathered somewhat restlessly behind them.

Not even the famous Lan composure could withstand a meeting with the legendary Baoshan Sanren, it seemed.

His could, he thought with some disdain. And xiongzhang was as poised as ever. But curiosity was contagious, and their disciples were on edge from the sudden dissipation of their wards and the ensuing announcement that Baoshan Sanren would be visiting to assist them with repairs.

Without warning, Lan Yi had fallen into a frozen sleep in the Cold Pond Cave that few knew existed. Her strength had been the only thing keeping a certain dangerous item hidden, and their defensive wards had faltered without her for some unknown reason.

The Cloud Recesses was left vulnerable with war looming on the horizon-- without their wards, they were open to attack, and they had few options that would let them repair the wards and still be prepared to fight.

Instead of risking the sect further, Lan Qiren had sent a messenger to the foot of Baoshan Sanren’s mountain. A stroke of luck had one of her disciples notice the courier and agree to carry it to their master. The response was swift and brief: Baoshan Sanren would come to the Cloud Recesses for her former friend, and to protect their sect until Lan Yi was well again.

If she woke again. Lan Wangji had his doubts; he’d seen his ancestor’s place of rest, a stasis of some sort that kept her suspended in unconsciousness.

A sudden warm wind ruffled the trees and sent a shower of leaves raining down on the path, concealing the bend just outside of the gates where the sect disciples waited. They spun in a loose whirlwind made up of a myriad of reds and oranges and yellows that marked the change of season.

The breeze died down, releasing the leaves with a sigh so they spread into a carpet of color along the wide dirt trail. And in their place a soft golden light glowed as though the sun itself had risen in the curve of the path, ascending solely to deliver the woman who stepped out of the light.

Two tall, slender shadows flanked her, gliding serenely out of the light as though it were perfectly normal for nature to bend itself to their master. Lan Wangji focused on Baoshan Sanren but studied her companions-- disciples, perhaps?-- out of the corner of his eye.

The man on the left wore white robes and a lovely, glittering sword on his back. He was very handsome, Lan Wangji thought uncomfortably, and turned his attention instead to the other disciple, who wore all black with little flares of red at his waist, his hair.

A dizi was shoved haphazardly in his belt and his sword gripped loosely in one hand. Lan Wangji let his gaze travel from the disciple’s waist to his shoulder and finally his face, and felt his stomach drop to his feet.

This disciple-- this boy-- was as beautiful as the other, only this one was grinning widely at him as their respective master and sect leader exchanged greetings.

“--two of my disciples,” Baoshan Sanren was saying, and Lan Wangji tore his eyes away from the boy and tuned back into the conversation before he missed something important. “Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian bounced in place on his toes, seemingly unable to hold still. He peered curiously around and Lan Zhan had to resist the urge to tell him not to touch when he leaned in to inspect the temporary wards they’d erected.

“Shifu,” Wei Wuxian said after a moment. Baoshan Sanren paused her interrogation about Lan Yi’s unexpected collapse and turned to him, eyebrows raised in question. He gestured to their perfectly functional wards and made a face. His master only nodded once in response, like they’d exchanged a dozen words instead of one.

Lan Wangji wanted to wipe the look off his face. His brother eyed him from the corner of his eye, probably the only one who noticed him bristling in reaction. It was enough to remind Lan Wangji to settle, to keep his composure even when this stupid, pretty boy whipped a small knife from his boot and started carving on their sect’s stone gate like a disrespectful heathen.

His uncle remained silent, though he also scowled minutely at the faint scratching noises.

“Wei Wuxian is especially talented with wards,” Xiao Xingchen said smoothly, stepping forward to draw their attention away from his sect brother. “He is adding to yours so that when we add our own power, it will ensure the Cloud Recesses is wholly protected until we can revive your ancestor.”

“Lan Yi must have tied herself to the external wards somehow,” Baoshan Sanren said, peering over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder as he worked. She sighed. “She never did know when to quit.”

Lan Qiren frowned. “Why would she do such a thing? It took all of her power to contain the…” he paused, and turned to shoo his disciples up the hill. He waited until the last one was out of sight to continue. “The Iron.”

“My guess? It was either an accident, or something made her try to expand her protection past the cave. Speaking of which…”

“We will take you,” Lan Xichen said with a smile, holding out his arm as if to help her up the steep hill.

“Such a polite young man,” Baoshan Sanren said, patting him on the arm. ”A-Xian, pay attention, you could learn a thing or two from these Twin Jades.”

“Hey!”

Baoshan Sanren ignored him. “Zewu-Jun, is it? You are far too young and handsome to be stuck with an old woman.” She sent a sideways look at Xiao Xingchen, a wicked grin of amusement passing across her face almost too fast to track. “But perhaps my disciple would appreciate a tour?”

Xiao Xingchen, Lan Wangji noticed, flushed pink to the roots of his hair and said nothing until a bemused Lan Xichen turned to him instead. He hurriedly schooled his expression and gave a regal nod of agreement, allowing Lan Xichen to lead him into the Cloud Recesses.

Wei Wuxian snickered under his breath, right up until his master added, “Lan Wangji, would you mind assisting my remaining disciple? He is somewhat of a trouble magnet.”

“Shifu!” Wei Wuxian said indignantly.

Lan Wangji very much minded, but he doubted there was a cultivator alive who could say no to Baoshan Sanren. “Of course, daozhang.” He saluted, careful not to let his resentment show. He didn’t want to be stuck with a troublemaking guest disciple with sparkling gray eyes and a teasing grin, but perhaps it was better that someone kept an eye on him.

“Good boy.” Lan Wangji blinked, surprised at the warmth her praise brought. “Now, Lan Qiren, why don’t you take me to my old friend? It’s time we had another talk about her reckless behavior.”

Lan Wangji frowned after them.

“Don’t take her seriously,” Wei Wuxian said without looking up, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he worked diligently on the wards. “She and Lan Yi were like… together all those years back. Or almost together; none of us can get a straight answer out of her, no matter how much we hound her about it.”

Now Lan Wangji frowned down at him. “You should not annoy your Master.”

“Why not?” Wei Wuxian chirped. “It’s fun.”

“Fun,” Lan Wangji repeated, appalled.

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Sometimes she just threatens to toss us off the top of the mountain, but occasionally we can badger her into sharing a story or two.”

Lan Wangji had no idea what to say to that. He settled for vaguely disapproving silence to cover up his complete bafflement. Baoshan Sanren was nothing like he’d expected, her disciples even less so.

“There,” Wei Wuxian said, satisfied, and stood gracefully. Lan Wangji felt the sudden hum of increased spiritual energy from whatever changes he’d made.

“Did you add your own power to the wards?”

“Hm? Oh, no. Not yet. Shifu wants to determine whether we should focus our own power on defending the cave; otherwise we might be too spread thin, in case something were to happen.” Wei Wuxian twirled around to face him, head cocked with curious eyes. “Do you think something will happen?”

Lan Wangji paused. He knew, obviously, that Baoshan Sanren and her disciples were secluded on their mountain. They were removed from mortal, earthly affairs, so of course they didn’t know of Wen Ruohan’s bloodstained rise to power.

And yet it still took him by surprise that they weren’t aware of the monster in the west, the armies he was amassing or the awful tension of waiting for the storm to break. But they had nothing to fear. Nothing to lose. Wen Ruohan couldn’t touch them, couldn’t break them the way he could the other great sects.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji admitted. He’d been included in enough discussions with his brother and uncle to know that war was only a matter of time.

“I guess it’s a good thing we came, then!” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. “Hey, do you have any of that Emperor’s Smile here? We passed it on the way up the mountain; I’m thirsty after all that work!”

Lan Wangji frowned deeply at him and pointed to the wall of Lan Sect rules. Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide at the sight of it. “Alcohol is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses.”

“Aiya, what’s not forbidden in the Cloud Recesses?” He asked, hands on his hips as he leaned back to find the top of the wall, so playfully theatrical about it he nearly toppled over backwards.

“Silence,” Lan Wangji said stiffly. “Thinking before you speak.” He gave Wei Wuxian a pointed look, and despaired when it only made him throw back his head and laugh.

“Alright, alright. I’ll behave.” Lan Wangji doubted that very much. “Let’s go find the others before all these rules make me break out in hives.” Wei Wuxian shuddered dramatically and eyed the wall of rules like they were contagious.

Lan Wangji could think of several that would improve Wei Wuxian’s personality. Most of them were the ones about silence and not touching things that did not belong to you. Such as other people.

He turned on his heel and started up the path with Wei Wuxian on his heels. Lan Wangji’s gaze caught on Do not lust after others, and he looked away quickly, pretending he couldn't feel the burning heat in his ears.

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idk-my-aesthetic · 4 years

Text

Phoenix Prince /// Dragon Princess AU

Aka a healthy (ish) fire siblings au (thats still super angsty im so sorry) where Zuko and Azula love/take care of eachother and earn the love of their people

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Ursa dies in child birth, though thankfully Azula survives. Zuko’s only three at the time but he’s devastated by the loss of his mother, and vows to protect his baby sister at all costs

He’s super super involved with Azula growing up, and does everything in his power to protect her from Ozai. Bc when she’s little Ozai’s very bitter bc she “killed” Ursa, plus he already hated zuko for being too weak, plus there’s no Ursa to challenge him. so he can basically do whatever tf he wants to them and be an abusive fucking dick

But then, Azula starts fire bending and is clearly a prodigy. Ozai suddenly takes an interest in her. She’s terrified of her dad so she does w/e tf he wants to keep him happy.

Except she refuses to hurt zuko. he’s her big brother and she loves him. She (secretly) stays really close with him, though is skilled enough at manipulation that Ozai thinks she’s basically cut herself off from zuko/hate him. Which zuko is fine with, he wants Azula to be safe from Ozai and if that means she needs to pretend to hate him when their dad is in the room? He doesn’t care, he knows his baby sister and knows she loves him

Anyway yeah Ozai starts to like her better and treats her.... “better”. (Note the quotations.) but she still feels guilty that Zuko’s getting the brunt of ozai’s wrath, so she does her best to keep Ozai’s attention on how good she is instead of how much of a failure zuko is.

Quick side note: if Azula seems ooc that’s on purpose. We know her toxcicity is a result of Ozai’s influence. But here he has way less control over her. Bc Ozai mainly controls her by using fear. And while she is afraid of him, she’s not nearly as afraid in this AU. a) bc Azula has her over protective big brother being over protective and b) Ursa’s dead so there’s no mother who is supposed to protect her failing to protect her and making Azula feel unsafe

So in this she’s much closer personality wise to like a “season 1 zuko” version of herself. She’s in general cool but tends to loose control of herself. Though she also has a lot more self confidence than zuko did, and maybe a bit too much pride. She’d never hit someone who was already down and cares for ppl, but pretends that she cares for no one

So yeah. The two are just kinda surviving living in the castle and love eacother a lot

Until they hear about the whole kill ur first born thing....... (which happens about 2 yrs after cannon bc Iroh came home when he heard his sister in law died and the whole siege of ba sing se was postponed)

Instead of like. Waiting for her brother to get murdered tiny 9 yr old Azula packs up their shit and gets ready to go on the run

Unfortunately she’s (almost) too late. While she’s getting ready to leave Zuko is trying to cover for her (Ozai would be murderus if he knew Azula was gonna betrey him by leaving) and somehow manages to insult Ozai while trying to protect Azula from being found out

Ozai gets big mad, and in a fit of rage tries to kill zuko by burning half his face off.

Azula runs in at the sound of her brother’s screams, at the exact same time two gaurd rush into the royal chambers. The guards are frozen in shock, but Azula is pissed

Azula attacks her dad. At first she has the upper hand/element of surprise but... she’s 9.

she starts loosing. Her forearm gets really badly burned in a suspiciously hand-shaped pattern.

During the fight Zuko’s struggling to lift himself from the ground and help. He manages to save Azula from a killing blow by throwing some fire at Ozai, but collapses immediately after. Azula barely has a second to breathe before Ozai starts attacking again.

For a moment it legitimately looks like Ozai is going to murder his two young children in cold blood

Until one of the guards snaps.

She uses the whole fucked up situation to knock Ozai out, though she doesn’t kill him. The other gaurd is just standing there, and she has no clue who he’s gonna help so she just knocks him out

Then the gaurd grabs zuko and Azula, and fucking BOOKS IT from the castle. She does a blue spirit type thing to escape (threatening to kill either Azula or zuko) and eventually gets them somewhere safe where she can get their wounds treated

The next day the fire lord puts out this whole sob story about how an assassin pretended to be a gaurd, killed his father, then kiddnapped his children. And how he’s sending out a whole manhunt for his lost children yada yada yada

The other gaurd that was there mysteriously disappears a few days later, but not before he can spread some “rumors” about the prince and princess’s disappearance. Ozai ascends to the throne and publicly offers an enormous reward for the return of his children,,,,,, while secretly sending assassins after them. (Like.... Azula attacked him and he already tried to kill zuko he don’t give a fuck)

Iroh is obviously devestated when he finds out. and while he thinks the whole thing is a bit suspicious he starts on a journey desperately looking for his lost niece and nephew

While all this BS is happening this poor gaurd suddenly has 2 damaged af kids to take care of and a bunch of assassins to run from

So once zuko and Azula are healed enough to travel and they know zuko won’t die, they go on the run. They can’t stay in one place bc of all the assassins after them and end up going all over the world

They don’t spend a lot of time in the fire nation (for obvious reasons) but they do spend bits and pieces there. Connecting with their people, meeting freinds of the gaurd who saved them that can help (like Lt Jee who ran Zuko’s ship in cannon) and spreading the truth of what happened.

Stories about the damaged prince and princess who were so hurt by their father begin to spread. But even more stories about how the prince and princess care for their people spread ten times faster. Stories they take time to rebuild small fire nation villages damaged by floods, or how corrupt military commanders suspicious disappear after they come to town start to spread.

Ppl start calling them the dragon princess and pheonix prince. Because the princess protects her people like a dragon protects it’s hoard, by killing everyone who dares to endanger it. And the prince has risin from the ashes (you can see the burn clear as day on his face), to heal the land and his people

(Though really..... the prince and princess are both dragons and pheonixes. Because even if she seems invincible and more ruthless than her brother, the princess has been hurt deeply. Though her wound is more easily covered. And she aches for the pain of her nation, the nation she feels she wasn’t strong enough to protect. She just hides her emotions better than her brother....)

(As for the prince, yes he shows more kindness than his sister seems too. But he is just as ruthless as her if someone threatens their hoard. He’s just a bit calmer.... less trigger happy than his twin. It was his idea to take out the corrupt commandor stealing a small town’s livelihoods, after all)

They call the gaurd who saved them “the Kitsune”. They say she is a flame wielding spirit, sent by Agni himself to protect the true leaders of the fire nation

Iroh overhears bits and pieces about them. He starts to get an idea of what’s happening, but for the most part he really struggles to track them. Ppl can recognize him, and they won’t sell out their prince and princess to someone who might take them away

So yeah. The three of them are on the run together for a long time. They can never spend long in one place (assassins never stop coming after them) and dart all over the earth kingdom and fire nation, seeing first hand the effects of the war. And gaining a positive reputation both for caring about their people in a way no one since before Sozin has, as well as shaming dishonorable fire nation soldiers who mistreat those in the earth kingdom

(They almost never hurt foot soldiers who are just following orders, but any one (especially upper command) who take clear pleasure in other’s suffering are often challenged to Agni kai’s in exchange for said soldiers leaving.

Though usually just being publicly knocked on their asses by a couple of scarred kids who turn out to literally be the lost prince and princess holy shit, is enough to put them in their place)

So yeah. They travel together earning a good reputation from as soon as they’re healed until zuko and azula are 14 and 11 respectively

At that point they get separated from the gaurd.... (she doesn’t die, either captured or separated for some other reason)

So now.... all they have is eachother

The two spend the next two years on their own. They still try to do the same types of stuff they did before but now they’re in a lot more danger w/o an adult to help them. They’re basically just.... 2 increasingly ferel children struggling to survive. They live mostly off of like foraged stuff and whatever money they can make/steal from rich assholes

They continue to dodge Iroh as well bc they have no clue if he’s gonna return them to their father or kill them or w/e. Which is wayyyy harder than it would seem, the only reason he hasn’t caught them yet is that they have an alliance with June the bounty hunter who keeps sending Iroh on wild goose chases bc she has a soft spot for the weird ferel kids. (And a huge crush on the gaurd who was basically their mom/older sister for a while. But we don’t need to talk about that)

so zuko and Azula are just these absolutely feral kids being hunted by 12 dozen bounty hunters from their father, plus the “dragon princess and pheonix prince” have officially been declared “traitors to the nation that are impersonating the late children of Firelord Ozai” so there’s a good amount of the actual military after them, and they’re trying to keep away from their uncle and all his fucking white lotus freinds

They’re a little bit stressed ok??? And like super protective of eachother by this point

And then who joins the fucking search??? The goddam avatar

Bc he heard these stories about these good firebenders who protect everyone no matter what side of the war they’re on. And ofc Aang wants one or both of them to teach him

So Aang like the lovable idiot he is, is just trying so hard to adopt these crazy feral firebenders.

And ik I keep saying feral but like. I need to emphasize this bc these two spent 2 years on the run + 2 more years on the run while basically living in fucking forests cus they’re out of money, connections, and the gaurd was the only one out of the three of them with social skills. They’re a little stressed okay???

And idk I just love the idea of Aang trying to befriend these crazy feral firebenders acting like they’re just like. Wild animals or smthn. Like cornering them in a clearing and trying to offer them jerky as if they were wolves and the two giving him the blankest fucking expression

Anyway this post is about 200x longer than I meant it to be and I am so so sorry. (Especially since I can’t put in a read more on mobile)

Anyway bc it’s so long i’m just gonna do the last bit in bullet form and try to finish as quickly as humanly possible

- obvi they join the avatar and stuff

- the gaurd (who ima call kit/kitsune cus I don’t have a name for her) eventually meets/joins with Iroh. June later joins them as well as they try to find the idiot fire children

- Sokka has a big gay crush on the feral firebening guy

- Katara has a very tiny crush she refuses to admit too on Azula

- there’s also a lot of drama between her and Azula at first bc Azula is brash and Katara kinda gets annoyed at a mix of that/the lingering bias she has against fire nation ppl but they get past it

- also Azula has ~issues~ where she blames herself for their mom’s death/ is sure their mom hates them but asp their mom comes to her in spirit form and says she loves her (no fucking clue when that would happen but I love that idea)

- instead of having zuko/Azula chasing them they have a really fun variety of different random bounty hunters. Obvi including sparky sparky boom man

- the siege of the north.... happens. Though Zhao doesn’t kill the moon spirit so yue lives, and Azula and zuko manage to make a huge speech and get many of the soldiers to defect to their side instead so it ends with minimal bloodshed

- when Toph joins the group she and Azula are chaos incarnate

-mai and ty lee hear rumors and stuff and join team avatar eventually

- when they find out about the day of black sun they just. Skip trying to talk to the earth king. Cus they can just stage a cou lol they have the people on their side?? Forces from both water tribes, random earth kingdom ppl they’ve managed to befriend,,,,

- though they have to find uncle first bc he could challenge zuko for the throne. Obvi they think they’ll need to get rid of him bc they don’t really know him and think he wants to hurt them but all of a sudden???

- so they kinda have a few side quests as they’re preparing and gathering everyone but then it’s the day of black sun!!! And it works and shit and I actually have some other ideas too but FUCK this is SO LONG i am so sorry and will shut up now

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forgeandgredimagines · 4 years

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Mischievous Antics 『Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader』

Request: Hey hey!! I really love your work, I was wondering if you could make a kuroo x reader oneshot of kuroo messing with the reader and they start playfully fighting bc of that. I dont know if you get what I mean but thank you in advanced 🖤❤️ (Anon)

A/N: I totally get what you mean :>> I feel like Kuroo would definitely be the type of boyfriend that would always mess with and annoy you. But you still love him regardless of his ridiculous antics, because who wouldn't?

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist!!

Everyone who's known Kuroo is well aware of the fact that he is, to put it simply, a ginormous troublemaker. Everyone knows that they have to be especially careful around the man, else they'll find themselves in some sort of sticky situation. Which is definitely why you don't have the right to blame Kuroo for taking embarrassing photos of you, that he may or may not use for blackmail, you should be blaming yourself for falling asleep in the middle of the living room wearing the ridiculous looking (though undeniably comfortable) t-rex onesie Tsukishima gifted you for your birthday, with a Korean face masks that was probably way too overpriced to be a reasonable purchase, but you didn't care.

It was Sunday evening, you were home alone and you wanted to pamper yourself. College was just as, if not more, tiring than they made it seem when you were in high school, hence why you needed a day for yourself every once in a while.

This was precisely the reason why Kuroo decided to surprise you that night with a bags full of your favorite foods and a list of movies you two could binge watch that night. He got in with the spare key he knew you hid under a flower pot by the entrance and instead of being greeted with a big hug from you after being pleasantly surprised with his sudden arrival and presents, he found you passed out cold in the living room, a bowl of half melted ice cream precariously clutched in your arms, only inches away from spilling all over your onesie, which Kuroo found incredibly cute. The anime that you had previously been watching was still playing, you had just missed an epic boss battle between the protagonist and his best friend who was secretly evil but that wasn't important. What was important was how completely ridiculous you looked.

Kuroo tried to stifle his laughter. Emphasis on tried. He couldn't help but let out a few giggles which luckily didn't do much but make you stir groggily, the ice cream miraculously still not spilling everywhere.

He hastily carried the bags of food into the kitchen and rushed back to you with his phone in his hand, the camera app already open. He positioned the camera right above you, he made sure to get the most unflattering angle because he was a good boyfriend.

All would have gone well if he hadn't forgotten to turn the flash off. The bright light flashed over your face waking you from your slumber. Kuroo froze in place, his phone still hovering over you. You groggily looked up at him, rubbing your eyes.

"Tetsu?" You asked, your voice laced with sleepiness. Your hand brushed over your cheeks and felt the face mask, and you suddenly realized what was happening.

You two stood there for a few seconds, frozen. And just like that you two jumped like frightened cats. Kuroo jumped over the coffee table, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He ran as if his life depended on it, and to be honest, it kind of did.

You let out a screech in shock and leapt after him, the bowl of ice cream now crashing onto the ground, but he was too quick for you.

Before Kuroo could run into the bathroom to lock himself in, he tripped on the carpet but he caught himself before he crashed onto the ground, but this momentary delay gave you time to catch up on him. You made a grab for the phone but Kuroo quickly held it up in the air, far from your reach. His years of volleyball and troublemaking had lead to him developing rather fast reflexes.

He pried you off of him and ran into the kitchen instead, and found himself cornered behind the small kitchen island. You skidded to halt right across from him, the island being the only thing keeping you from strangling the man.

"Had a good nap, hun?" He grinned cheekily at you. He waved out his phone, close enough that you could see your incriminating photo in full HD but far enough that it was only a little bit more than arms length.

You growled at him as you internally asked yourself why you were dating the oaf. You threw your face mask at him.

"Kuroo Tetsurou, you are such an asshole!" You bellowed. His grin only grew wider. You dashed towards him from the left of the island but Kuroo ran towards the right, leading you two to be in the same position but on the other sides of the granite surface.

"I swear when I get my hands on you-" You began listing down rather violent ways on how you were going to make the male regret his actions.

Kuroo's face only grew more smug at these threats. "You're so cute when you're feeling homicidal tendencies." He cooed at you. "But I think this is much more cuter."

He grinned down at his phone, ignoring your death glare, when an idea popped into his head. "It would...be a shame if...this happened to be accidentally sent to someone."

You gasped at these words. "You wouldn't."

"Come on, let's be honest, we both know that I would."

He began tapping on his phone, preparing to send the incriminating photo to the groupchat you, Kuroo and your closest friends were in. This list included Kenma, Yaku, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Akaashi and several of your other friends. You'd never hear the end of it.

You clenched your fists in defeat and stared at your feet (which were t-rex feet but that wasn't important).

Kuroo was just about to send the photo when he heard a sniffle. He froze in his place, guilt already beginning to engulf him.

He turned to you, you were biting your lips in frustration, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. He hated when you cried, especially when he was the one that caused them to begin with.

"Hey, hey, no, I was just playing around. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get upset." He cautiously approached you. "I won't send it to anyone, I promise."

He was now beside you, rubbing your shoulders consolingly, when he noticed the corners of your mouth rising by a fraction.

It was too late, you had grabbed ahold of his phone. You ducked under his arm and ran for the living room, quickly trying to delete the photo from both the gallery and the recently deleted folder, but you couldn't do this quickly as you were running from a feral and thoroughly betrayed man behind you.

He quickly gained on you and tried to grab the phone, you two were now having a tug of war contest with the unfortunate device. Kuroo then tripped on a shoe and fell onto the floor, his face landing on the spilt ice cream. The melted vanilla and chocolate was smeared all over the side of his face and was all over his hair but his focus was still on the phone that he managed to hold on to even during his fall.

"Let--go!" You cried out and you pulled with all your might.

"It's my phone--you hag!"

As Kuroo said this though, his grip on the phone loosened and you found yourself falling back from the sudden loss of force from his end. You exclaimed in delight as you brought the phone up to your face, only to gasp in horror as you took in what was on the screen.

Amidst the chaos that just ensued, one of you had unknowingly managed to send the photo the the group chat.

Bokuto, always the first to see messages, had already sent a dozen or so messages and gifs, his delight evident. Akaashi, who checked the chat because of Bokuto's spamming, was now sharing his own delightfully sarcastic comments. Yaku had just seen the photo and was already typing his reaction as you groaned in defeat.

Kuroo grabbed the phone from your lax hands and roared in laughter upon seeing the chat. He struggled to breath as he fell into more laughter, tears even started to prickle his eyes, when a bright light flashed and a little notification pinged from Kuroo's phone.

He looked down onto the groupchat only to see his own face, manic with glee. He had to admit, he looked ridiculous, with melted, sticky vanilla and chocolate ice cream smeared all over his face, clothes and hair, which was now messier than ever, which is saying something for the male.

He looked over at your smug face. You were still lying on the ground from your fall earlier, but your hands were now clasped on your own phone which was left on the coffee table beside you earlier.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

"I really hate you, you know." He said playfully as he began poking the sides of your stomach. You burst into laughter from his unrelenting tickling and struggled under him. When you calmed down from your fits of giggles, you sighed and smiled fondly at him. "I love you too, jerk."

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nami-writes · 3 years

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Home - Detroit: Become Human

i wanted to write something so i put my playlist on shuffle and the first song that played was waving through a window (yes from dear evan hansen) so obviously i wrote about connor! there are a few references to the song in this too bc i couldn’t resist lmao. enjoy connor struggling with the concept of home

The first night after the revolution was the worst.

A few androids left after the revolution was a success. They returned to their former loving owners, now their family, or just went to start a new life for themselves as free people.

Most of the androids returned back to the abandoned church. At least, most of the ones that survived. They were the ones that had nowhere to go. No place they could call home, no people they could call family. They were the ones that had joined Jericho early on, when it was nothing but a few dozen barely-functioning androids living in a broken down ship who were there because nobody else wanted them, or joined Jericho the latest, the ones most lost and confused and unsure of what to do because there’s nobody to tell them.

Connor went with them.

He wasn’t sure why, really. He was sure Hank was waiting for him with Sumo, probably freaking out at Connor being involved in the revolution on TV and possibly being hurt, but entirely willing to welcome him home regardless.

Home.

Could that be considered his home?

The idea had been foreign to him before Hank. Which... wasn’t very long, considering the majority of his lifetime had been spent accompanying him on investigations, but the word still left an odd feeling in his chest. Cyberlife had been home, or something similar, at least. The police station had been home. Now, Jericho was home.

Would Hank be home?

definition of home

/hōm/ noun

the place where one lives permanently,

especially as a member of a family or household.

Family.

That word left a similar feeling in his chest. And to think of Hank as family...

He could almost say he wanted it.

No, that was wrong. He did want it. But could an android be part of a family?

Could he be part of a family?

But how could he be?

He didn’t belong with Hank and Sumo. He was an android, a deviant. Hank was still dealing with Cole’s death, making himself his responsibility would only worsen his stress. He couldn’t be part of his family.

He didn’t even feel part of Jericho, despite also being a deviant. In fact, he felt like he was still part of the other side. The humans’ side. He felt like he still hadn’t proven himself, hadn’t yet shown he was truly trying to help.

He felt like he still wasn’t enough.

Like he hadn’t done enough.

Logically, he knew he had. Logically, he knew he’d been the one to recruit over half of Jericho’s current numbers and defeat Cyberlife indefinitely.

But still, some part of him nagged at him, reminding him how he’d been known as the infamous deviant hunter. He’d signaled for the destruction of Daniel, he’d caused the HK400 to self-destruct, he’d led the humans to Jericho. All of it had been his fault, still was his fault, would always be his fault.

It had taken the lives of two androids and risking the lives of too many more for him to realize he’d been wrong.

Would he ever be more than the deviant hunter everyone knew him as?

When he saw Rupert, the Tracis, and the AX400, he’d been filled with shame. He’d put all of them into life-threatening situations and nearly got one of them killed. And for what? To accomplish his mission? To mark off another task on his to-do list? To satisfy Amanda and save himself at their expense?

He was surrounded by deviants, his supposed people, but it felt like he was miles away from them. He felt nowhere near as deserving of freedom as they all were. Every strange look in his general direction made him think they recognized him, they knew him, they knew he was the deviant hunter, they were going to throw him out or kill him because they knew.

He didn’t belong in Jericho alongside Markus. He didn’t belong anywhere. He should’ve just let himself fail and be deactivated if it meant he could save the lives of the androids he’d caused the deaths of.

It would’ve been better for everybody.

Markus noticed Connor sitting by himself in a pew, his face buried in his hands, and approached him. “Connor? Are you okay?”

Connor looked up at him, slightly startled to see him when the sudden question pulled him out of his thoughts. “Yes, I’m... I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” He took the seat beside him. “What’s wrong? Do you have nowhere to go?”

“No, I do, it’s just that I...” He trailed off, reconsidering answering him. What would he think about what Connor’s done? He didn’t want to be thrown out and lose what little he had left.

But what did it matter if he was thrown out? He would deserve it after all he’s done.

“...I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he apologized. Partially for having been such a terrible person before he deviated, and partially for putting his burdens on him. He would only admit one of those, though.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” Markus asked, this time with a look of genuine confusion and concern. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

He wanted to say he had everything to be sorry about, but decided against it. “I just... I was a—a terrible person before I deviated, and—“

“No, don’t be sorry for that,” Markus interrupted. “That isn’t you anymore. You didn’t know any better. None of it was your fault.”

“All of it was my fault,” he said. “You don’t understand. I hurt so many people. I got so many people killed. I just...” He sighed and dropped his gaze. “Maybe it’d be best for everyone if I left.”

Markus looked shocked and almost offended, even, and Connor immediately felt a pang of guilt. “Connor, no. You belong here. You can go find a home for yourself, but you’ll always have a place here. You’re one of us now. Your past doesn’t change that.”

“The AX400. Rupert. The Tracis,” Connor began. “I chased down all of them and risked all of their lives.” He swallowed hard, but forced himself to say it. “I made the AX400 cross a busy highway with her child. I chased Rupert across a moving train. I fought and almost shot the Tracis.” He wanted to disappear on the spot, but he couldn’t, so instead he did the closest thing to it. “I’m sorry. I-I should go.” Despite the voices in his head telling him how pathetic he was to be unable to own up to his misdeeds and face him, he stood up and went to leave.

Markus grabbed his arm and Connor braced himself to be chewed out, or maybe even assaulted. It’d be understandable, after all. “I know.”

He stopped. Of all possible responses, he hadn’t expected that. “What?”

Markus gave a half-relieved chuckle. “Connor, they’re the ones who told me.” He pulled Connor back into his seat with a reassuring smile. “When you showed up and joined Jericho, they each came up to me and vouched for you. They thought I was going to kill you or kick you out, so they defended you. But they told me different stories than what you said.”

“They... defended me?”

He nodded. “Kara, the AX400, said you didn’t go after her on the highway, even though you had the chance to. Rupert told me you stopped chasing him to help your partner. The Tracis both saw you get a clean shot at one of them, and then lower your gun.” His voice softened. “You can be a good person, Connor. You are a good person. Kara didn’t seem very favorable of you, but she still felt the need to vouch for you. Hell, Rupert actually told me he didn’t like you because you were hunting deviants but he thought you could learn to be better. And I’m pretty sure it was the Tracis’ idea to vouch for you in the first place.”

“I...”

I don’t deserve this.

“...I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. But you are more than what you think you are,” he said. “You deserve to be here just as much as anyone else here does.” He gave him one last supportive smile before standing up. “Jericho is your home, and we are your family. It’s up to you whether or not you want to find your own.”

Connor watched as Markus walked away, then remembered what he’d been thinking about prior to their conversation.

He hadn’t been sure if he could have a home or have Hank be his family.

He still wasn’t sure if he could have that, but he knew he wanted it.

The next morning, Connor found him waiting for him outside of his house. Hank noticed him and turned to give him a smile with Sumo laying at his feet.

He returned it.

Hank took a few hesitant steps forward. Sumo followed.

Then he grabbed Connor’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug, closing the distance between them as Sumo padded around them.

meaning of home

home means an enjoyable, happy place,

where you can live, laugh and learn. it’s somewhere

where you are loved, respected, and cared for.

This had to be it.

This had to be home.

#writing #fanfic #one shot #dbh #dbh connor #dbh fanfic

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renaer-is-allegedly-hot · 3 years

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session 19

Session 19 Sunday, April 25, 2021 7:47 PM

- I'm cold :[ the window is open - Last week on dnd: we went to a place mirt tipped us abt; activity around stone in castle ward o Explored a bunch of rooms and snuck around o Got to arena w prisoners made to fight, came across vats filled w dead beholders o Cel theo and adam discover the kitchenso Asyna and aerana went upstairs hearing commotion not knowing from where - Adam was instructed to head down the hallway to the left and go upstairs, pass through the meeting room and go through first door to right o Currently on lower level, heading towards noisy area - Adam kachunk kachunk kachunks up the stairs o Cel is slightly concerned abt adam's trolley driving ability, theo is holding onto the trolley for dear life bc adam cannot push this cart - Confronted w wall of noise, music o Passes through open door and sees two mess tables, full of diverse set of ppl generally looking shabby/down on their luck o They look mean and shifty but they're having a good time rn o Someone in corner sees adam with the cart ■ "looks at you and says" *dom waves, not saying a word* ■ Adam goes toward person and sees staircase ■ It is a human w a shaved head and an eye tattoo on the back of his head like the motifs in the dungeon ■ "when's my order coming sir" □ "sorry sir we're a little backlogged rn and I'm not your waiter if u tell me who ur waiter is I can find them n give u an update" □ Man sighs n grumbles bc they're v hungry ◆ Adam offers one appetizer to them; one big whole crab ◆ The ppl lean back and look at adam ◆ "just don't tell the chef," adam says, then trolleys away, full steam ahead - Confronted w sheer staircase, no ramp o Adam is gonna try to pull it up, strength check ■ Rolls a 7 ■ Halflings must make stealth check □ Pass without a trace thing is still active ◆ Theo rolls 21 ◆ Cel rolls 34 o Adam can get them up a couple of steps, but after a bit of trying some of the ppl at the party r just . Looking at adam■ "is there a . Strong dude . Just sitting down anywhere"□ "that dude and a couple of the guys" the crab ppl□ They stand up and start heading over to adam◆ "hello friends ! Did you like the crab?"◊ Human guy, half-orc woman, two dwarves w pleated beards► Human : " you want a . Hand ?"- Adam says he's feeding royaltyo The four of them get around the cart and hoist it up the stairs

o Cel's internal screaming gets loudero "I'd just like to thank you guys so much for helping me out"■ Adam winks at one of the dwarves, but why?- Top of the stairs, 150 feet hallway that starts to curve towards endo In front and to right, set of double doors followed by another doorwayo Also a set of double doors to far left and one perpendicular from thato Tl;dr: Facing three doors and one at the end of the hallo Adam is going to follow the directions, sees a passageway as he walkso Lots of ornate carving in the door, door carved to look like a piece of funguso Adam rolls perception, 6■ Doesn't see any other door but hears talking behind this one■ Hears ppl clapping and cheering; otherwise just hears deep booming voice that's difficult to make out- Adam bends down to cart and pokes head insideo "so we're here" adamo "thank god" theoo Left are snails, whole turkey, blueberry pie on carto Plan is to go inside, give them food, grab lord silgaro Cel asks if adam wants fake lord silgar now or later■ Adam puts fake lord silgar on head and pulls chef's hat over■ Except nvm■ He can't do that so uses empty crab dish instead□ Remembers where he puts it to avoid giving fake lord silgar out- Adam opens door and starts wheeling cart ino Theo n cel holding hands- Meanwhile !!- Asyna and aerana just finished going up spiraling staircase stealthilyo Poke heads around corner, notice passageway moving forward {straight) and one offshoot to right, further down there are two more branching pathso Aerana rolls 19 perception■ Can hear some ppl chatting■ Aerana can understand undercommon□ Ppl arguing, that there's no ghost "you're a moron if you think you saw a ghost" "no I'm not gonna check"□ They sound wet, dom says, and lillian and marguerite stare me down :{■ One thinks they saw the ghost, hear them to our righto Naya turns in circles then walks into wall■ Goes behind■ 17 investigation check□ No buttons on wall□ Nothing on the floor□ Nothing on the ceiling, no eye things; down 50ish feet can see an ornately carved door, looks drow-related w spider motifso Not sure if guards would see us if we went down hallway■ We poke our heads in and go OOP did u see the ghost in undercommon■ See big chamber■ Three doorways in diff sections of the room, in between two of the doors, a wider portcullis that's been lowered■ A bunch of fish looking bipedal creatures w spears digging into food, they're called kuo-toa■ One of them turns around and stands up, eating tough cured meat■ "do you know where it went ? I'm scared"□ Deception, 7

□ Short thingy but has a long whip in his hand□ Stares us down "you two aren't authorized to be here"□ "but she's a chef, so" asyna "we're lost"□ Asyna asks what they're up to◆ One of the fishy guys says he saw the ghost go a certain way, pointed towards a hallway leading off to the right in the room□ The main guy staring at us cracks his whip and says "we're busy"■ We back out and head into area we were first in- We go back to kitchen to grab food, off in distance we here loud banging crash from behind us- Adam wheels out the carto The floor drops bc there are stairs; a dozen or so cheering warriors in a wide chambero Make acrobatics checks■ "stairs have been the ultimate enemy in this session" jacob, 2021■ 16 for theo, 7 for celo Adam pushes cart out, and as it leans down, it's a little too heavy and turns to sideo Platters clatter open, except for the one containing the fish {stays upside down)■ Two dishes splatter onto floor, along with a halfling■ Theo stays inside the cart■ Cel tumbles outo Everyone looking at them■ "did anyone order a halfling and blueberry pie?"- Adam must make performance checko 14o Everyone in the room draws their weapono Floating creature descends and hisses, drow gathering energyo Sylvia has an idea■ Adam is telling everyone to calm down bc he has a pieo Cel stands up, hand on dust of disappearance subtlyo But they hear low rumbling sound- Adam yells "WAIT ! I know this looks bad ! But there is a much more pressing manner" as he pulls out the fish foodo Grumbling turning into laughter■ Really creepy uncomfy laughtero "halfling pie" ahahahahao Adam starts laughingo Cel halfheartedly laughso Can't see anything but can hearo Looking at ceiling just see large circle bowl attached to ceiling- Adam "I have been informed - praise xanathar by the way - I've been informed by ot to feed lord silgar his daily sustenance and if I don't get this to him soon things aren't going to b looking too hot for the xanathar guild"o Everyone kinda chuckling to themselves■ Cel makes 21, adam makes 13 or smth for insight check; theo rolls 3o The ppl don't think the joke is funny but they're laughing anywayso Voice echoes "v mysterious . ot went missing"■ "well he hasn't been to work in awhile" adam says□ Adam makes persuasion check□ Adam rolls nat 1◆ Hears deep imposing resonance◆ "deliver your food and then be gone from this ?? Space -- if you should trifle, then perhaps we shall enjoy the new employee with the pie"□ Adam tells cel to wait here and cel Is like :I◆ Adam casts message and tells cel that if things go south to find aerana and

asyna◆ Adam takes theo with him□ Cel messages back for adam to keep an eye on the plushie◆ Cel standing by door, adam wheeling cart with one hand, sets pie on table by buff guys and keeps going◆ Cel looking around room and doesn't see anything that doesn't look humanoid, sees two other doors not including one she came from- Human woman tells cel that she better leaveo "I think you should leave before he changes his mind"o Cel tries the door she came in from, it's unlockedo Adam is going for door closest to him firsto Cel leaves room going back way she came■ Right as she goes to leave, booming voice says "wait. You there . Halfling . Tell us a story . And you tiefling fellow . If you encounter ot, give him my best wishes . And then come back . say . Which door is ot behind, my friend?"■ Jacob: "I'm gonna roll a d2"□ "is this a test ?? I still just started this job" adamo Cel tries to leave, makes acrobatics check 18■ Human woman rolls nat 20 and cel cannot leaveo Jacob rolls 24 to ask for a hint■ "it is not the door on your left !!"■ Adam insight checks, 15; voice is odd and adam can't tell what's going on■ Adam says he loves the voice and opens the door right next to him■ Cold rush fills adam's body, just fear□ "give my regards to ot! You passed :)"■ Adam feels push and door shuts behind him, without theo■ Adam has darkvision, sees gigantic 20x20 fish bowl with aquatic plants and gravel inside and a miniature castle + sizable treasure chest at bottom of bowl■ Inside is a familiar looking dwarf with a strange helmet on□ Turns around and yells◆ "OT"◆ Adam goes over and puts two hands on his shoulders◆ Ot is holding smaller fishbowl with a goldfish◆ "I need that goldfish"- Back to asyna and aeranao We go get food from the kitchen, two souffleso We hear more argument back at stairs, sounds like ringleader from before in undercommon saying "well no sir according to my observation did not see any ghost . Well I should hope not but we can investigate for you if you desire"o We walk down left hallway, see tall pillars■ Passageway to left back in direction we came□ Door, passageway, passageway that goes sort of back way we cameo We keep going down passageway■ 17 perception check at ornate door■ We can hear cel talking and occasionally a deep booming interjecting voice■ We listen by other door, can hear fish people talking through there■ 18 perception down other passageway, looking down catches glimpse of a halfling being dragged off□ Halfling doesn't look like someone we recognize- 28 stealth check to pull open door a little bito See big group of ppl, knocked over cart that looks like one adam was pushing, cel- Back to cel, cel telling a storyo "have you ever heard the story of the yawning portal"

o "no . I've heard it's a terrible place"o "yeah it's an awful place with mystery that I want to explore"o Cel relays things durnan has told about typ, rolls performanceo 11 performance check■ Is talking for awhileo Aerana and asyna can hear clearly- Theo still inside fallen carto Is close to door adam went througho Everyone is watching celo Door adam went through is probably unlocked■ Stealth check, 17 w pass without a trace- Theo makes it through unscathedo Sees ot and adam chatting- Back to adamo "OT I need that fish"o adam slaps himo Adam makes strength check of 5o Theo has sneak attack and is gonna bonk ot on the head■ 13 to hit, stun attack and ot drops bowl□ Adam makes dex check, 14, catches bowl□ Looks like the fish adam saw in that painting but also looks p mundaneo Theo has other fish, other fish kinda looks like lord silgaro Adam gets lord silgar and puts him underneath chef's hato Fake fish named filgar■ See passageway leading out and sloping up {like a ramp) + locked double door against wallo Ot says "we spoke of the stone"■ Ot begging for fish, adam says give stone ot says I don't know where stone is■ Adam rolls 18 for insight, but ot blocking big bowl■ No fish in the bowl just a rocky sandy bottom, faux treasure chest, faux castle- Adam walks up to bowl, tips it overo Adam mage hands down into fish bowl, opens chest, sees oval, uses mage hand to grab rocko Ot starts crying bc he doesn't want to fail at his jobo Adam gives him filgar and brings ot close■ "you saw nothing"- Adam puts rock in pocketo Jk adam hands stone to theo and tells her to get out, adam is gonna go get celo Adam tells theo to meet at kitcheno Jk we'll meet outside the guildo Theo just needs to book it- Adam and theo high five, adam walks back out and claps "he ate"o "very good" booming voice sayso Says they're gonna finish eating the halfling but adam offers his entertainment skills■ Cel dips out, sees asyna and aerana and we hand her the souffles■ Keep door pried open- Theo follows passageway as far out as she can go- Adam starts storyo "there once was a young man in a fallen city . This city had many factions . This young boy was the leader of the smallest . His faction was growing smaller and weaker until one day he made a deal with a devil . Devil asks for an heir, man agrees, came at cost of best friend, but man receives great power and influence in city; one morning realizes consequences and at his doorstep were two baby twin tieflingso One crying one laughing

o Man takes it upon self to raise tieflings in secret, can't kill tieflings bc agreement- Theo running down hallway, sees heavily armed fish folk and head to double doors, walk through; four of us now togethero As adam giving speech, is casually inching towards door he came from, preparing darknesso Voice is just listening to storyo "Man raises two tieflings in secret, one void of powers other great sorcerer; tutor hired to teach lesser tiefling . Tutor was kind and only friend of younger tiefling and realized younger tiefling needed to escape; when younger tiefling turned 17, led tiefling out of city; older tiefling told father of plano Adam's voice cracks :{o "tutor was killed but the younger one got away"o "you know the younger one should've been stronger" voice sayso Adam's voice cracks, stops movements■ Looks at tentacle monster, cross and a little angry, hands shaking behind backo Is close to door

• We ALL run■ "and with that story that has ended with no happy ending, I will bid you adieu" calls darkness, YEETS away■ Adam running

- Naya pokes head out of wall, we run and cel recasts pass without a traceo 13 celo 20 aeranao 19 adamo 11 theoo 10 asyna- Running down hallway back towards kitchenso Behind can hear someone shouting "there you are" from behind us■ Adam casts hypnotic pattern on stairs for next minute■ Aerana launches bow, 6 damage on the jailer dwarf who was immediately chasing us

□- We keep runningDwarf is incapacitated and stands still on stairs

o Following pathway we came through

o Dex saves bc adam's pyrotechnics doesn't work

■ Aerana rolls nat 1

■ Adam nat 20

■ Theo 23

■ Cel 19???

■ Asyna 12

□ Everyone takes 5 damage, except aerana who takes 10

- Adam casts healing words to take aerana to 6 hp

o Adam casts hellish rebuke, 20 fire damage

o Aerana hits 15 damage and yeets out of room

o Asyna rolls 6 dex save, as running out asyna feels incredible slowness; can make door but still slow

■ Halved speed

- We round corner and go up the stairs

o "rat might actually work because rat is rat"

- Aerana turns into squirrel, speed returns

- We get to sewer we entered from and for the moment it looks as we've escaped

o We have lord silgar and the stone

#sn #19 #dnd #d&d #5e

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in-tua-deep · 4 years

Note

Umbrella academy hogwarts au? I feel like 5 would be a slytherin. Would he be in a younger year than everyone else, kinda like in your pride and prejudice AU?

HMMM i think if i was ever to go for a real hogwarts au and not just gently dumping all the characters into the hp world for a laugh (they make it so easy with five’s mystery jump at the end of s1 lmao) then it would have to start from like. the very beginning and together. as Actual Kids.

(p&p au is a bit different bc it’s a no-powers-period-drama type au)

we’re not going to explain why hogwarts is getting some american kids bc i don’t have the brainpower rn to think of why. maybe reginald trained them in the US in this au and then moved them to the UK in the months preceding their debut for whatever reason which officially makes them a Hogwarts Problem now idk

lemme put this under a read more

so instead you have Five at like, ten-and-three-quarters years old. They’re scheduled to debut in front of the entire world very soon. Five has bruises on his skin and anger in his heart, even as young as he is.

(He’s not the worst off. Klaus has screaming nightmares and bags under his eyes so dark he looks like a raccoon. Ben hasn’t spoken a word in two weeks after his last special training session with their dad. Diego’s arm is in a cast where sparring with Luther went wrong a week or so ago.)

And Five is the curious child, the challenging child. He’s a constant buzz of need to know, have to know, have to move move move and part of that is knowing everything that’s going on in the house. With his power to jump, he knows all the good spying spots. He knows which rooms are above the others, knows which vents have sound that carry, knows the spots he can prop himself in and see but not be seen.

So when there’s someone knocking on the front door, Five sneaks into one such spot and looks - because no one knocks on their door, ever. Reginald’s door is never knocked upon by girl scouts or friendly neighbors or salesmen. It’s like, a rule. So he’s curious who it is, and he crouches down to watch and to listen.

Grace is the one who answers the door (Pogo tends to keep out of sight of guests, when he can) and offers the severe looking woman a dazzling smile. Five thinks she’ll be turned away, but Grace nods and gestures her inside and tells her to wait right there as she fetches Mr. Hargreeves -

His dad comes, looking just as severe as the woman does and twice as intimidating. And then the woman opens her mouth to speak and -

Magic?

Them?

A boarding school?

And Five doesn’t really think they’re magic. Yeah, unexplained things happen around them all the time (Klaus’s lightbulbs were constantly being replaced when he bolted out of a nightmare screaming and they blew or shattered or whatever) but that’s just part of their powers, right?

But a boarding school. That’s promising. Even if they aren’t magic or whatever, even if this school is for insane people - anything is better than here. And it’s not foster care, right? If it’s a school then there’s no issue of them being split up, being torn apart. They’re a family, and Five has been trying desperately to think of a plan to get them out since he was seven-and-a-half

Of course, Reginald says no. Denies everything. Refuses to acknowledge the woman and sends her out.

And Five has about three seconds for his quicksilver mind to run back over the conversation, to pick up on the woman’s bristling and comments about control and community and you can’t hide magic forever and -

Five jumps, in a flash of blue, and pops out in front of the woman outside. She startles with wide eyes. “What on earth - ”

“What happens if a magical child wants to attend but their non-magical guardians do not.” Five asks the woman, hands clenched into fists by his sides.

The woman stares at him for a long time, “It would depend on the circumstances - ”

That’s a bullshit answer if Five’s ever heard one, and he cuts her off. “If a magical child needs to be trained, could they achieve that going around a guardian? What are the laws concerning education?”

The woman looks over her shoulder, back towards the manor. She looks bemused that this tiny slip of a child is confronting her like this outside of the knowledge of his parents.

Five grits his teeth, because this is a low risk high reward situation. If the woman leaves - whatever, no skin off his back or however that saying goes. If she can get them out and going to this fancy boarding school so that they’re only within Reginald’s sphere of influence during the break times - well.

Five has a hunch, and plays it without mercy.

“He’s not our biological father. He bought us. We have - we do things no else can do. Magic? He wants us to be superheroes. He’s got something planned, to show us off to the whole world. Us and our powers.”

If the woman’s face had gotten tight at the beginning of Five’s words, it’s aghast at the end of it. So Five is correct - if magic was real, then Five should have already heard about it. If it is and he hasn’t, that means that the magic people are exceptionally good at keeping secrets.

Which means Reginald and his planned publicity works in Five’s favor.

“I’ll see what can be done.” The woman says grimly.

But there’s something Five needs confirmation of, because it’s important. “If one of us goes, we all go.” He tells the woman, feet planted shoulder width apart and hands curled into fists with the thumbs on the outside. Ready for a fight. “We stay together.”

(Vanya doesn’t have powers, like the rest of them. But Five will be damned before he leaves her behind in this house by herself, not when Reginald hardly cares if she lives or dies.)

The woman blinks, waves her hand like that was never the problem. “There are seven children at this address, yes? If that’s all of you, you all have places at Hogwarts.”

Five, who was geared up to defend his position and smuggle Vanya with him in a suitcase if necessary, melts back. “There are seven of us.” Five says, cautious and careful, “But - yes. There are seven of us.”

(He almost tells her that Vanya isn’t magic, but if they think she is then he’s not going to try and persuade them otherwise. He’ll figure something out for later, when they realize she’s ordinary. He’ll find a way to fake magical powers for her or something.)

“I’ll be back.” The woman tells him, looking serious. Then she raises a stick in the air (what?) and something happens and she just - warps in place and vanishes. It makes Five jump back, startled.

What was that? That wasn’t - that wasn’t jumping. Not the way he does it. But - she vanished? There’s no blue light but it looks so much like what he does that he can’t help but doubt. Are there variations of his power? Are there lots of people who can jump?

Suddenly this whole ‘magic school’ thing is looking more like something exciting to look forward to instead of just a convenient escape route.

Five hovers for a few seconds, before jumping himself. It wouldn’t do to be found lurking outside of the manor when he isn’t supposed to be permitted outside at all, after all.

He waits with baited breath until a week later he wakes up to yelling and scrambles for the door. He can see his other siblings coming out as well in the pajamas, all of them exchanging looks and agreeing as one to creep quietly to figure out what’s going on.

What’s going on isn’t quiet at all. There’s a dozen men and women downstairs, including the woman that Five spoke to the week before. They all looks very official, and they all have sticks like the woman did. Does.

Reginald looks furious.

They’re all crouched in Five’s spot, the good one where if you stay still no one would notice you between the banisters but you get an unobstructed view. The key is if you stay still. One of them moves, or makes a noise, or whatever and one of the people’s eyes snap up to look directly at them.

They all freeze.

“You might as well come down here, children.” One woman says, looking distinctly unimpressed. “This involves you, after all.”

They look to Reginald, but he says nothing. He doesn’t even look at them at all, though they can see the muscle in his jaw tightening.

The travel carefully down the stairs, single file, in order. Klaus and Ben hold hands as they go down, and Five looks back frequently to make sure that everyone is present, including Vanya.

“I’m afraid,” The woman from the week before speaks up in her Scottish brogue, “That is has come to our attention that… your guardian can no longer provide you with the necessary education you require by law.”

She keeps going, explaining to them about magic. Five can see Vanya at the end of their little like, getting more and more pale by the second. Five heard most of this speech the day before, so it’s easy for him to duck out of their little line and bump Klaus and Ben over so that he can stand by her side.

He takes her hand in his, not caring about how Luther and Allison are shooting him looks. He squeezes tightly and, after a second, she squeezes back.

They’re in language classes with Grace together, so it’s easy to him to tap against her hand.

n-o g-o w-o u

Not going without you. Vanya is still pale, but she squeezes Five’s hand and stops looking like she’s going to pass out on the floor.

“As such,” The woman is continuing, “You will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be staying with me until the start of the term, during which time we will sort out permanent living arrangements.”

“We’re not coming back?” Luther demands loudly, looking frightened. Five would almost feel bad if he didn’t remember the fact that Luther was still recovering from a concussion from private training that he still would talk about. “But - what about dad?”

“Your father is not equipped to deal with magical children.” The woman tells them, actually quite diplomatically. Five can read between the lines though to where she’s actually saying this man is an abusive fuck who shouldn’t have been permitted to care for a cactus let alone seven entire human beings.

“We stay together?” Five pipes up, staring holes into the strangers in his house. “No matter what, we stay together, right?”

The woman inclines her head, “We will do our utmost to ensure it, Mr. - ”

She pauses for him to fill in his name, and he can feel the panicked look Luther is shooting him. He’s the worst one to ask for his name, because he gave up his chance for a name so Vanya could have one.

Luther is shaking his head, trying to get Five’s attention to signal him to not answer, but Five lifts his chin up high. He is not ashamed as he puts the final nail in Reginald’s coffin.

“Number Five. I’m Number Five.”

The expressions on every adults face are priceless and drive home just how not ordinary that is. Just how terrible it is to have a number instead of a name. Five doesn’t understand it - he likes his name, thank you - but that doesn’t mean he’s not willing to use it as a weapon to put another knife in Reginald’s back.

And that’s how, against some of their protests (mainly Luther, who protests leaving Reginald, and Diego, who protests leaving Grace) all of the kids end up in the house of “Professor McGonagall” who at this point is just. resigned to these kids being weird as fuck

(to be valid she first met Five apparently apparating with a) 0 training and b) without even a wand what the fuck)

They’re all just. Really confused? They all report for breakfast bright and early and McGonagall hasn’t even had her morning coffee yet and she’s just kind of like “yeah you kids do whatever, settle in and all that. we’ll go to diagon alley and pick up school supplies and all that later”

and it is bizarre. The kids stick close to one another, watch all the weird magic shit going down with careful eyes, and then they get their wands. Five almost has a fit because what if they find out Vanya isn’t magical and he’s about two seconds away from using his own shiny new wand (that had let out a bright blue light reminiscent of the one that came with his powers) when Vanya picks one up and waves it and manages to blast through three shelves.

The wand maker looks absolutely delighted at this destruction of the shop and all of them gape at Vanya because they were not expecting her to be magical. And clearly Vanya wasn’t expecting to be magical either, because she’s pale and shocked as the wand maker plucks the destructive wand from her hand and pops another one in.

All seven of them walk out with their brand new wands, and Vanya and Five hold hands tightly. Half in relief and half in alarm.

When they talk later, hushed whispers camped out in freshly transfigured beds, they come to the conclusion that some witches and wizards just need the stick to do things and that the rest of the Umbrella Academy is kind of weird. (McGonagall lectured Five at length about apparating and not doing it while he made various faces)

The kids survive until term starts and Professor McGonagall takes the to a train station and drops them off and tells them that she’ll see them at the school. They take up an entire compartment by themselves and talk at length about what magic school is going to be like.

Luther is still withdrawn and sullen over being taken away from Reginald, Diego is still sad about Grace, Allison has her head held high and is determined to make a good impression and finally meet some new people outside of her siblings, and Klaus is loud but in the way that means he’s anxious, Ben is speaking again but is still far too quiet, Five has read all of their schoolbooks already and is practically vibrating in place with the need to know everything and Vanya -

Vanya is off her meds. She didn’t want Professor McGonagall to decide she was broken or not good enough or anything because she was on anxiety medication. Any mishaps within the McGonagall house have so far been chalked up to accidental magic (and some of it actually had been). This is important for later.

They change into their robes (just another uniform) and disembark and get to Hogwarts and stand in the Great Hall and listen to the Sorting Hat sing and then - it’s their turn to be sorted.

Luther is all Gryffindor bullheaded stubbornness and an insistence on what he thinks is right, proud and strong. Allison is Slytherin ambition and drive to her bones, clawing her way to the top and making sure she will stay there. Diego is Gryffindor impatience and need to prove himself, doing what is right even if it is outside the law. Klaus is Slytherin cunning and resourcefulness, sneaking out and getting what he needed under the nose of a tyrant (though since leaving the house, drugs have been noticeably absent from his possessions). Ben is Ravenclaw knowledge and hiding behind books, quiet words and hungry eyes. Vanya is Ravenclaw hard work and well gained knowledge, passion for her difficult art and determination to be good at something.

Five gets up there, and the Sorting Hat hums.

Five is made of loyalty that could weather an apocalypse. He is a boy who had a power perfect for running away and keeping away, but who stayed because he couldn’t bear to leave his siblings. Five is a child who, every time he got knocked down, he got back up again. Five is a child who has hard work pressed into the marrow of his bones, who never gives up and never gives in.

Five is driven by knowledge and a need to know. His hunger consumes him, always pushing at boundaries that perhaps would be safer for his health to leave untouched. Always testing and twisting and seeking more. He is bright and smart and one of his very first words was why.

Five is cunning and careful, twisting words and bending rules and scraping everything he can from a bad situation. He is the boy who had a split second to think, who jumped outside and confronted a stranger and went off of a hunch and won it all. The boy who had so few resources to work with, but twisted and pulled at them until they were enough. If getting his entire family out of Reginald’s house intact was not the very definition of ambitious, then nothing is.

Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw. Slytherin.

Choose your own adventure, choose your fighter.

Five would probably prefer Ravenclaw, in a house with two of his favorite siblings. Perhaps he would choose Slytherin, because Klaus is fragile and he doubts Allison will protect him and Five has always been protective of his family.

(Klaus is stronger than the family thinks, away from the mausoleum and the memories. He’ll have Slytherin house wrapped around his finger before they know what hit them, will eventually fall in love with a Hufflepuff transfer student named Dave, will eventually be happy.)

Maybe Five is alone in Hufflepuff, a house too kind and too soft for the sort of jagged edges he has. But maybe that’s what he needs. Maybe he doesn’t need a house to sharpen his claws against, to sharpen his words or his mind. Maybe he needs somewhere safe, where people take his hand and show him how to tickle the pear to get into the kitchens and teach him how to play exploding snap and who look the other way when he sneaks out to visit his siblings at night.

(Whatever they can do outside of their wand waving, they discover, it isn’t magic. Or at least, not what the magical world seems to consider magic. They figure this out because apparently Hogwarts is warded against apparating within the grounds.

This doesn’t seem to stop Five.)

There’s so much that needs to be done. The wizarding world is still rebuilding. It’s 2000, scarcely three years after everything went down.

Vanya’s “magic” seems to act up and no one can figure out why (even the family doesn’t realize it’s because she has non-magical powers like the rest of them. how could they? their entire lives Vanya had been ordinary.)

(when the revelation comes, Allison remembers her orders, remembers a small quiet room she was brought and told to say terrible things. They all weather the storm of Vanya’s fury together, magical shield summoned in a technique probably too advanced for their age but Ben is a natural until they finally managed to stun her.

later, they all sit together in the hufflepuff common room, curled up on the sofas with mugs of hot chocolate stolen from the kitchens, regardless of if any of them are even in the house. at the very least Five has a talent for wriggling his way into areas he isn’t supposed to be in. they drink the hot chocolate, and contemplate their lives living with a man who would order something like that.

they are grateful, even luther, of the turn their lives had taken. it would have been so very easy for McGonagall to walk away, to trust that they would be homeschooled or sent abroad or whatever. they are free, and they are thankful)

there is, of course, still the issue of what to do with the seven magical children once their first year comes to an end. they could stay with professor mcgonagall again, perhaps. despite being generally no nonsense, she’s always had a soft spot for the troublemakers (and the Hargreeves, despite best efforts, fall soundly into that category)

maybe they end up staying with some empty nesters. Molly and Arthur Weasely have no children left staying at home since Ginny moved out, and they’re used to dealing with large numbers of magical children. Diego would thrive under Mrs. Weasley’s attention even as he would feel guilty for loving anyone but Grace.

maybe McGonagall calls in a favor, maybe she contacts her old students. She knows a boy who was an orphan himself, who knows what it means to be too skinny and too wary and to not want to go home at the summers. An orphan boy with wealth enough to take care of seven orphans with no problems, who would be glad to take on several wards if it was a favor to his old professor.

(Harry Potter is only 20, but the war aged him. Aged all of his generation, really. There are lots of orphans in the wizarding world, and he is one of them.)

or maybe their arrangements are something else entirely.

The important thing though, is that despite everything they stay together. They might not have the Academy anymore, they might not belong to Reginald, but they are family and they stick by one another.

They protect one another, through means both magical and not.

(If you think Diego is giving up his knives, you are very incorrect about that.)

#anonymous #ask me #tua #tua au #the umbrella academy #hogwarts au #hp au #tua/hp crossover #tua crossover #i will defend slytherin klaus with my life #anyone who says he's too soft to be slytherin wasn't paying attention #but also!! who says slytherin can't be soft!#fight me #i kind of stan hufflepuff five for this au actually even though i usually mentally sort him into slytherin #but this is pre running away five and i think the real slytherin 'ends justify the means' mentality really happened after the commission #he's characterized by loyalty and hard work and i love him okay and he needs soft things sometimes let me have this #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #i also usually stan hufflepuff ben #but that's after ghost ben has been loyally by klaus's side for eons so he gets ravenclaw #wow @ the umbrella academy how come ur mom lets u have magic AND superpowers???

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 3 years

Text

Dying on PLA (Pure Love Alliance)

This post was written by a former BC who questioned an authority figure on PLA and experience life-threatening consequences.

I’ll start with this: the moment I was dying was when I felt my soul sinking into the ground during the PLA 2000 tour, in a lavish town house owned by The Unification Church in Kensington, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in London, UK. I was 16 when this all happened. For some reason, my soul wasn’t rising as you might imagine when people die, probably because it was too tired, instead, it sank. I was in a sleeping bag and surrounded by 300 other kids all in sleeping bags, lined up like goods in the grocery store with little room to walk. Asleep, I slowly realized that I was sinking through my sleeping bag, past my body, into the oriental rug and through hardwood floor, deep into the ground, creeping further and further below the foundation of the building. So I knew I was dying—but I didn’t feel the least bit sad or upset. In fact I was relieved—even ecstatic. It meant that the torment from my supposed fellow BCs would be over, that this pain from the infection raging through my body that left my neck, arms, wrists wrapped in puss filled bandages, and my body so fatigued (so. fatigued.) would be over. The ground felt cool, and was getting colder, and it was really actually quite refreshing.

How great would that be to not have to wake up? Who cares if these people found a dead girl in her sleeping bag in the morning. Good for them. They might be surprised but they’d get to spin some fantastic story about my soul paying indemnity for the crimes that my Japanese ancestors committed against the Koreans; that’s apparently how they were explaining my mysterious illness to friends— an illness that had my upper body oozing a relentless and embarrassing flow of thick yellow puss, that had me changing my bandages every hour if I had the energy and a clean bandage on me. I found out that this story was making the rounds through the 300 or so BCs who were also on that tour. Before that, someone who I went to summer camp with for years, actually asked nonplussed, if I was currently struggling with Satan. Another story that others hinted to was that I was fallen. Writer’s note: At that point in time, like many of you, I had not so much as held a boy’s hand, let alone kissed anyone, made out and definitely never lost my virginity. I was precocious, spirited, ballsy—like any teenager trying to find humor in strange places. Most things I did was for the sake of a good laugh. But I was in my heart a total straight arrow, and I believed in the church, seriously, like the best or worst of them.

On this trip, there were also elders who took me aside from the group dinners and recounted the amazing stories about my dad and what a great guy he was at the religious seminary, the New Yorker Hotel, Belvedere, etc. And then they would say; Why would you disappoint him so horribly?

I wouldn’t know exactly how much I was disappointing him because I was never allowed to call him or my mom, or make any phone calls for that matter. I was being guarded 24/7, my passport was locked up, I wasn’t allowed to sleep much (I would be kept up later and woken up earlier than the others), nor take showers, which caused, what I would later find to be a trio of life-threatening infections coursing through my body. I had a very different experience from other BCs who were free to eat, shower, and sleep.

When I felt like my soul must have been half a mile below ground. I stopped, because this was it. Then I felt something big—bigger than me, bigger than everything and everyone around me, pulling me up with the utmost urgency, and I knew that this big thing gave a damn— even if I didn’t. I snapped back to my body with a whiplash that woke me up, panting, freaking out. Even if I didn’t care to live (and I really didn’t), even if these 300 other people around me, even if my religion didn’t care, God, the universe, this force, without a doubt, cared violently. This is when I realized that God did not move exclusively through organized religion, he/it moves and vibrates in anything, in everything. So my direct relationship with this force was felt for the first time under those floorboards, separate from and despite the machinations of my religion.

I immediately woke up and saw in the reflection of this gigantic ornate gold mirror on the wall opposite me, what looked like at least 20-30 white, blue glowing shadows, all very tall, standing around me and the dozens of sleeping BCs around me. Who they were, I’m not sure, I was delirious, and more importantly I was terrified that I had almost died, and so willingly. I couldn’t go back to sleep. But now I had a fire in my stomach, to get through this alive and a rabid indignity against those who’d put me in this position, including myself. I would do right by the universe, by God, by surviving this.

I got here by making the mistake of questioning the director of the PLA on the modus operandi of the Pure Love Alliance, on Day 1 of the tour. My fellow BCs didn’t make the mistake of vocalizing the inconsistencies in the logic of posing as a non-denominational group when we were 99% BCs, they didn’t stand up for the not even 1 percent non-BC kids who didn’t have a choice but to read the Divine Principle and join our prayers. If you are too precocious with too many rhetorical questions for elders, you’ll see just how nasty and how quickly the machine will mobilize against you.

Why. During the previous PLA tour of 1999 I remember lying about our religious association when being interviewed by the local news in Birmingham, AL. We were vetted and instructed to withhold our association with the Unification Church so when a reporter asked me what I was, I responded “Lutheran"— my father’s previous religion before joining the church.

I hate lying about something as grand and dumb as my religion. I didn’t think that we needed to constantly lie, it frustrated me always having to hide the church from my school friends and I wanted to do away with the smoke and mirrors and live openly about this. So at the beginning of the 2000 tour that would be marching through the US in July and then marching through Europe in August, I went up to the director and I asked him: why can’t we be forthright about who we are, if we’re truly non-denominational?

I didn’t immediately realize what a total coward he was, I just thought he was an adult, he must have some good answers. But he pandered with half answers, trotted me around the ring with half baked logic all while getting increasingly upset and dismissive: you just don’t understand; this is much too complicated for you to understand (more upset); this is God’s will; do you want to go against God’s will? And I responded with: I think it’s pretty simple, God doesn’t need us to lie. We should be honest to the press and other churches about being associated with the UC. Otherwise we should stop calling ourselves non-denominational, right? The conversation went nowhere and I eventually walked away.

I was probably earmarked as being a troublemaker but it wasn’t that bad. At least in the beginning, I hung out with my BC friends, some of whom I’d been growing up with and all was well during the tour through the US.

It was when I noticed that there were 3 or 4 non-BC kids on the tour—how they were roped in to hang out with us nutjobs for two weeks, I’m not sure, but I know everyone looked at them with a special wonder. They were special to us because we were showing them that there was this great camaraderie and communal life that we had together amongst ourselves and we really believed that we were letting them in on something special.

I noticed that while we were reading the Divine Principle and praying in circles, they were expected to do the same with us, without any opportunity to decide for themselves whether or not they wanted to in the first place. This would be a small but important gesture to extend for any organization that called itself non-denominational to the outside world; to accept and respect people of other faiths; to let them have the opportunity to pray in their own way if they needed to. It really bothered me because it seemed wildly disrespectful and a bit dishonest. If I were traveling with a Christian youth group, wouldn’t I want the right to read the DP and pray my way at 5 am in the morning on Sundays?

It became a breaking point when late one night on a tour bus in Europe, I brought up the issue again during a bus reading of the DP, and I got pissed. I openly pointed out to the bus leaders the hypocrisy of a so-called non-denominational youth group posing as such to the press, all while not respecting the faiths of others on the tour.They said that this is how it’s done, that everyone does the same thing so that they can stick to the strict schedule to get through the tour. This is the will and mission of the PLA, this is God’s will, and we need to see it through. Then I said: If they aren’t allowed to choose, than I refuse to read the DP and refuse to join prayers until they do have the choice.

I’m not really sure why I cared so much but it was because I could see my bus leaders acknowledging my logic, I could see behind their eyes that they did. But they towed the line and refused to acknowledge that there was any right. But my refusal to pray or read DP, they took very, very seriously—yet in my mind, I wasn’t doing anything drastic, I wasn’t leaving the church. That would be crazy! I was just taking a stand.

These non-BC kids were, at least outwardly, complacent. But let’s be honest we were all 14, 15, 16 years old and expected to do everything en masse, but why shouldn’t they/we have the choice to read the DP or not? What was faith if it wasn’t a deliberate, and educated choice? Shouldn’t anyone be allowed the right to question things, if only to return with stronger answers?

As soon as I had this fight on the bus, that was when the horrible things really began. I was always being shaken awake on long rides when everyone else was allowed to fall asleep, even if only for an hour or two. Lack of sleep breaks you quickly. I wasn’t allowed to sleep with my friends, instead I always had sometimes two unnis sleeping and walking with me. I could mingle with others, but I was always being watched by them close by. I was escorted to bathrooms but never allowed to take a shower, they said I could take one later, but later never came until it was too late, after my infections had become so severe they couldn’t exactly ignore it.

It was 3 in the morning when the buses filled with BC teenagers and our wranglers parked on the curve of the fucking German autobahn to let us out. We were released into the cold night by our demented but well-meaning leaders, searching along the curve of the freeway in the wet grass and mud trying to find our suitcases. Let me repeat, 3 am, 300+ teenagers trudging in the dark along a sharp curve of the German autobahn before entering what, in my mind, was the Black Forest.

I don’t even remember who was in charge of me at that point but it seemed to be predetermined that one sister became my handler in Germany. She came out of the blue, barking at me to move out, and personally marched me into that forest, literally behind me nipping at my heels, always on the assumption that I would flee sideways, off the trail, deeper into the forest, to what, I don’t know. I had no desire to leave, I was just hungry and exhausted. When we reached the top it was a huge building that wasn’t even fully constructed with insulation hanging out and utility lights haphazardly nailed and dangling from the ceilings. It was in a huge large barn like space where we convened in a long line to finally get some split pea soup as dinner, and by the time I finally got some, someone knocked it out of my hand, on purpose? Who the fuck knows. I would have cried but I was too tired and I don’t need sympathy. Some other BCs said that was too bad, but my handler wouldn’t let me go back in line to get more. Instead, we had to pitch our tents in the mud incline below the barn, my tent mate was of course my ever-watchful unni/handler.

I’m not exactly sure how the tent stood up, it was lopsided because of the mud and the wet grass, and the incline, but once that was done I went to go brush my teeth, and saw behind the barn, a bunch of white statues staggered in a terrifying symmetry along the hill; literally, I don’t think I’d ever seen anything as frightening as those statues in the moonlight. They were the true family, ghostly white and with their arms outstretched like they were dancing, I went up to them unsure as to what they were. They were smooth and so white but when I touched them, they weren’t marble, just hollow and plastic—creepy, empty lawn furniture. And for the first time in my life I saw them as this insidious, careless force who either had no idea, or simply had no compassion for the ramifications of their will and franchise. That was the night when my perspective on everything started to shift.

I wasn’t allowed to shower the next day even though I could see my other friends lining up with their towels. And I was always ferried away from communal meals, to have a one on one with some important elder who would shame me for an hour. And it worked. I remember one guy telling me with beady eyes, rather emphatically, how disappointing this will be for my father, who’s such a good guy, everyone loves him, I don’t know him, but everyone loves him— when he finds out how I’ve been working against the mission. I really tried hard to imagine if my dad would be proud or disappointed in me for taking a stand but my thoughts fizzled into a murky question mark while I stared at the white statues now in daylight. I didn’t know the answer and I was so tired, exhausted and hungry, and I was beginning to slowly not care as much.

But I also began to resent these elders for believing that I was working against them, I wasn’t! I was only asking good questions! I was on their side, and I believed I was still a good person.

Instead of not really being able to hang out with my friends, I sensed they were also avoiding me. I remember incredulous looks. It got super lonely fast.

It was when one elder oppa along with a whole slew of younger oppas in training crowded around me in a circle in front of everyone after one march to give me a talk. "Stop setting a bad example to the other sisters, this is your last warning.” Their vague warning was made abundantly clear. Even if it wasn’t true, my generation believed that I was fallen and that’s why I was acting out…

At that point I didn’t even consider the sheer stupidity in this non-linear logic, clearly, I ruined my chances of a good match! That was the end for me. No one would want to be blessed to me and that was when I began to really lose it because it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t have an arranged marriage, that my trajectory would be anything less than what was expected of me, or any different from anyone else. Even when I was asking these people seemingly simple rhetorical questions, it didn’t mean that I wanted to leave. But I was beginning to realize that it would be impossible to have a happily ever after ending in the church.

I don’t remember France, France was a blur, I just felt sluggish and horrible, light sensitive the entire time, still wasn’t allowed to sleep much and was barred from the showers. I was hiding a nasty rash that was breaking out all over my skin by wearing a cardigan, the only cardigan that I had brought on the trip.

My illness was getting bad when we arrived in the posh neighborhood of Kensington, London. The buses unloaded this shocking fire hazard number of teenagers into one townhouse that strangely appeared to have a bullet proof vestibule and a security camera at the entrance which only added to my feeling that I was being held captive. Meanwhile, nobody else seemed to care about this detail, the fact that we were in a fucking compound. You wouldn’t know it from the unassuming white exterior that blended in with the row of townhouses exactly like all the others in the neighborhood.

I remember after marching through Leicester Square, my subgroup broke off to Trafalgar Square where we shouted our testimonies at one of the fountains and anyone else who would care to stop, but no one did. My leader wasn’t really convinced by my conviction to Pure Love. It was a bit hard, being exhausted, with a fever, to be shouting about Pure Love all while being slut shamed by my generation for no good reason at all. I didn’t really feel like shouting, I just wanted rest and to be alone.

My illness was getting from bad to worse quickly, I had a fever, felt hot, then clammy cold, sweating bullets, in addition to huge open sores spreading on my neck and arms, but whenever I asked to see a Dr. they wouldn’t allow it, I later realized it wasn’t because of money, even after I offered to pay myself, it was because they were afraid that I would talk about everything happening on the tour. It hadn’t even occurred to me to go public with any of this. With what? I didn’t know that there was a story, how bad it really was until afterward.

I did finally get to take a shower in London, I think because that was more reasonable than covering up a dead girl, probably. But the shower didn’t help at that point. Whatever was happening with the sores, it was also in my blood, I felt exhausted, jumpy, crazy, sensitive to light, miserable. When they wouldn’t let me see a doctor, when the pus was spilling out of my bandages and running down my neck, running down my arms, like in some horror film, I begged them to at least let me go to a pharmacy to buy bandages, Neosporin and hydrogen peroxide. They agreed so long as a brother escorted me, a tall one who could easily outrun me if it came to it.

Maybe it was because they were making such a huge deal to keep me on watch that I began to fantasize about getting away. Not to tell on anyone or anything, with no agenda in mind, I just wanted to go home. I asked if I could get my passport and my ticket to try and go home early but that was not possible. I just wanted to get away and so on our way to one rally, I had this brilliant idea and I jumped out of a subway train and onto the platform, I only ran 5 steps before I was yanked back into the train by my unni. After that everyone thought I was totally nuts and definitely pure evil. I had no idea where I was planning to go, I think I was just going to ask directions to a hospital— at that point my sores on my upper body were just getting bigger and were oozing, no amount of soaking the sores in hydrogen peroxide or neosporin would help. It was embarrassing because it was pus and blood soaking through my bandages and into my shirts that I could only rotate so many times. People on the subway and in public were furtively staring at me, they probably smelled the disease on me, but I couldn’t ask for their help.

In my mind today, my older self rewrites the history of that trip. In my older self’s version: I’m unstoppable even though I’m sick. In a fit of manic strength, I jump out of the train, out run my guard, and I don’t stop running until I get to a doctor or to a police station, whichever happens first — then I seek protection at the US embassy despite not having a passport or money on me, and then I get to all major news outlets and I expose this youth group for their psychological and physical abuse, and for misleading the public on the PLA. By doing so, I set a chain of events on an international scale that would bring to light all of the questionable things we’ve had to quietly endure. I put a small chink in the church’s armor and it all comes crashing down. I save my fellow BCs from a life without an educated choice to believe or not, from the waste of time spent fundraising for a thankless institution while their families struggle to get by, in questionable matchings, in a sad, vicious cycle.

In actuality, after nearly dying in a sleeping bag, I’m too tired but crazy alert and a day and a half later I’m somehow on my way to Heathrow airport via the subway. On the way there I fall asleep hugging my backpack, only to wake up to find that other passengers are just looking at me horrified; my bandages had soaked through again, I was pouring pus onto my backpack. I’m so embarrassed for alarming these strangers but there’s nothing I can do, I had changed my bandages only an hour before hand, right before leaving the townhouse. All I can do is zip up my anorak and hope I can rinse these out later.

Finally at Heathrow, I’m handed my plane ticket and finally, my passport and it turns out that the tour is over. I can’t even believe it but the elders, including my handler, are walking away to catch their own planes. I curb my hysteria and get to a pay phone where I finally call my parents in Seattle on a collect call, and I’m freaking out, I’m worried that someone will come out from nowhere and cut the line, capture me, throw me in a white van, what with my luck.

My parents are so happy to hear from me! How are you kiddo? I have to fight to keep from sobbing, I’m shattering and yelling, focusing on just one thing: that they have to get me to a doctor as soon as I land, I keep repeating this until my dad promises and repeats this to me. I’m scared I just might drop dead right then and there. Once I’m appeased, I take deep breaths to cool down and I ask my mom if anyone in her family did anything to the Koreans during the occupation. She doesn’t understand the question until I explain to her the theory behind one of these rumors.

The line went quiet.

My dad doesn’t know what to say, but my mom blew her top, she was furious.

In my mother’s adorable, hot headed Japanese mom fashion, she emphatically starts yelling into the phone about how my ancestors did nothing. No one in my family served, and in fact, my family was socially ostracized for years for accepting a Korean family who were on hard times into their farming community in Shizuoka prefecture. (see Footnote)

She was furious and I think stormed away from the phone but I was happy to know, without a doubt, that this dark age posturing was completely ridiculous. My sense of what was reality and what wasn’t was a bit diminished in my daze the past few days, I was glad to have my intellect reinforced.

My parents collect me at the airport and are stunned by the shape I’m in. The doctor explains that I have several severe infections, a staph (staphylococcal) infection and impetigo— a highly contagious bacterial infection on my skin, but it was progressing as an infection in my blood—septicemia, which would have killed me in 48 hours without medical attention. I’m given a heavy flow of an antibiotic cocktail and I’m closely monitored. When I do get home, I can hardly move, and if I’m not sleeping or sitting in a mineral bath, I’m taking antibiotics and trying to heal my skin in time for the new school that I’m transferring to. But in every waking moment, I’m trying to make sense of the previous two weeks. I tell my parents that I’m no longer in the church and they don’t even put up a fight. We don’t talk about it but they can hardly believe what happened to me.

From that point on, I’ve kept my distance from every BC. I partially hold it against them for being complacent, for not chiming in with me, for not seeing the fatal flaws that were so obvious to me. I hold it against them for not standing up for me when they saw the quiet abuse that I went through. For not speaking up for me when people were effectively spreading lies about me. But I realize they didn’t really know me enough, or really even know what was going on all around us at the time, or themselves for that matter. And if I were them instead of me, would I do it any differently?

I hold it against the church for breeding ignorance and stupidity in its members and families; encouraging them to have upwards 10 kids before they can even think about what it means to really take care of them, giving them a real, true education and a fulfilling life; for grinding these families into poverty, a life partially lived on food stamps, for what exactly, I’m still not sure; for collectively instilling this insidious belief that it’s women who are always at fault/responsible in all situations and who carry the onus of Eve’s imprint on the Fall; that men are never to blame/never responsible and therefore unaccountable creatures save for their purpose of begetting a blessed family; that if you’re about to be raped, it’s your duty to kill yourself—not defend yourself and your right to live—before it gets to that; that you are anything less in God’s eyes if you are raped; that our sexuality is a fixed binary without room to account for a full spectrum within ourselves that acknowledges and respects humanity in its entirety—homosexuality and all. I hold the Church responsible for the deaths of BCs I knew, but that’s a longer, separate story.

When and where it all went bad for the Unification Church, I don’t know. I know it was a beautiful thing when my parents joined, I truly believe that they were meant to be together. It was something that I believed in with my whole heart when I was little. I do in fact believe that I’m a blessed child— I have no doubt that there’s a divinity in me, but I know there’s a divinity in everyone, BC or not. Our lives should be lived acknowledging and honoring that little spark, that bit of magic in each of us. It’s that simple.

My only regret in leaving the church at 16 was leaving behind my fellow BCs, especially the younger ones who have no one to advocate for their choice to question. I know they’re struggling or have struggled against parents and elders who are even more forceful and too scared to ask the same questions themselves. I know their questions are harder because they haven’t seen what I have in such crazy, sharp relief. It was made almost too clear to me but for them their experience is slower, blurred and more broken. I have dreams where I’m fighting for them, but I have to leave them behind to fight my own battles. I can hardly think about the church for very long without feeling the most violent, extreme emotions, mostly on behalf of my fellow BCs. It’s part of the reason why I’ve kept away for as long as I have, I’ve forgotten names and faces, and while I’ve forgiven the church for what it’s done to me, I will never forgive what it’s done to the thousands of individuals and families raised in almost poverty because of it. In my heart, it’s not hate, it’s justice, it’s right and wrong, clean. In my heart, I am a fucking vigilante, and part of what propels me is to vindicate them. I fantasize about doing well enough in life, to have enough money so that I can buy up each of the church’s properties so that I can burn them all down to the ground, in the name of all my fellow BCs. If there is one thing that I can thank the church, it’s for making me a fiercely passionate person. To this day, I don’t think anyone can hold a candle to the flames that burn in our hearts.

Life outside of the church is hard, reprogramming the way you consider everything never ends. Dating still feels impossible even after 10 years at it. But it’s so beautiful, it’s so varied and complex and breathtaking— the multitudes, the possibilities that I’ve experienced and are still at my feet. It’s always up to me, every mistake, triumph, difficulty and opportunity is up to me, and I’m so grateful that my conclusions are my conclusions even if it’s a process. As stupid or sad as this story is, I’m grateful for it because now I have a tenacity that rivals most anything. Now, almost 14 years later, I am a fucking panther and I don’t let anyone or anything take me down. Nothing fools me, no situation happens without my consent, and I live life fully, authentically, deliberately and always on my terms. And I want that for every single BC, in the church or not.

__________________________

Silra said: This makes me so sad. I’m an ex British moonie and the PLA was a last straw for me. I was 12 during that time and remember rumours being rife amongst all the BCs. I had to say my testimony at Leicester Square where my dad was super proud. Little did he know I wasn’t happy and the rumour mill was ripe with bullshit about me. I’m sorry you had to go through that.

__________________________

Footnote

The Unification Church heavily guilt tripped the Japanese members about the Japanese occupation of Korea (1910-1945), and about the Korean ‘Comfort Women’. To understand the psychology of this manipulation used during recruitment, see:

Japanese woman recruited by the Unification Church and sold to an older Korean farmer in an ‘apology marriage’

To understand more about the Korean ‘Comfort Women’ issue see:

The Comfort Women controversy

This ‘Comfort Women’ research is very important for all Japanese members. For some perspective, here is an extract from a piece from the New York Times. There were more Korean ‘Comfort Women’ serving the US military from 1950 than ever served the Japanese military during the colonial period.

New York Times:

Ex-Prostitutes Say South Korea and U.S. Enabled Sex Trade Near Bases By Choe Sang-Hun January 7, 2009

SEOUL, South Korea. South Korea has railed for years against the Japanese government’s waffling over how much responsibility it bears for one of the ugliest chapters in its wartime history: the enslavement of women from Korea and elsewhere to work in brothels serving Japan’s imperial army. 

Now, a group of former prostitutes in South Korea have accused some of their country’s former leaders of a different kind of abuse: encouraging them to have sex with the American soldiers who protected South Korea from North Korea. They also accuse past South Korean governments, and the United States military, of taking a direct hand in the sex trade from the 1960s through the 1980s, working together to build a testing and treatment system to ensure that prostitutes were disease-free for American troops. 

While the women have made no claims that they were coerced into prostitution by South Korean or American officials during those years, they accuse successive Korean governments of hypocrisy in calling for reparations from Japan while refusing to take a hard look at South Korea’s own history. 

“Our government was one big pimp for the U.S. military,” one of the women, Kim Ae-ran, 58, said in a recent interview. 

Scholars on the issue say that the South Korean government was motivated in part by fears that the American military would leave, and that it wanted to do whatever it could to prevent that. 

But the women suggest that the government also viewed them as commodities to be used to shore up the country’s struggling economy in the decades after the Korean War. They say the government not only sponsored classes for them in basic English and etiquette meant to help them sell themselves more effectively but also sent bureaucrats to praise them for earning dollars when South Korea was desperate for foreign currency. 

“They urged us to sell as much as possible to the G.I.’s, praising us as ‘dollar-earning patriots,’ ” Ms. Kim said. ...

The Comfort Women controversy

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#PLA #Pure Love Alliance #Moonies #Sun Myung Moon #Unification Church #CARP #Japanese occupation of Korea #Comfort Women

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ashyblondwaves · 4 years

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I saw ur xavier x reader prompt and I gotchu boo! :D How about the reader is like a super shy girl and close friends with Xavier and she never drank or go out w anyone bc her family claims its bad. She wants to do it anyway but she's too scared. She ends up going to Camp Redwood w Xavier and his friends and he persuades her to drink and she ends up drinking and getting drunk and confesses her crush on him in front of his friends. If it's too much I apologize! ^^

Oh I love this! I hope you don’t mind the way I went with this. But once I started going it all just flowed right out the way it did. Thanks so much for this prompt, it’s so cute!

*****

It’s You (Xavier Plympton x Fem!Reader)

Camp Redwood was a beautiful place. Filled with a sprawling forest that surrounded a beautiful lake, it made for a picturesque scene that you could certainly get used to. The water glistened even in the dark as the natural ebb and flow created the most naturally soothing sounds. Sounds you focused on as the small group of people you barely knew smoked pot and passed around bottles of beer to each other.

Soon, a bottle was being passed in your direction. They were expecting you to take one. It was time to come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t drink, but your body and mind were frozen staring at the amber bottle pointed in your direction. Instead of coming up with an edgy story, the truth came tumbling from your lips.

“I’ve actually… never had beer. My parents would frown on it.”

They had always been strict. Drinking and sex were taboo topics, never to be talked about under their roof. You weren’t even allowed to date as long as you lived with them, and by the time you’d left home you’d grown so comfortable in your shell that going on a date felt like the most impossible challenge.

That is, until you met him.

Xavier Plympton; tall, blond and handsome. Mister Personality. An actor with a pair of lips so perfectly shaped that you often — with heated cheeks — thought about kissing them.

It was him that asked you to come to Camp Redwood. He and a few friends were headed up for the summer with jobs as counselors and the moment Xavier asked you, there was that all too familiar tug at your heart that said, “Maybe he does want you around.”

Then the panic hit. You’d never been that far from home and definitely not for an entire summer. Fear always struck you right in the gut and never missed. This time, it’d hit a bullseye.

Initially, you said no. It didn’t feel right tagging along with an entire group of people just because Xavier had asked you to do something with him. It wasn’t even with him, it was with him and his friends. But then Xavier kept asking, kept trying to make Camp Redwood sound like Disney World and that little part of you that wasn’t paralyzed by the fear started to think that not only did Xavier want you around but he sometimes thought about kissing you, too.

So you agreed. And instead of having a late night walk around the lake with Xavier, full of confessions and kisses like you’d imagined the entire drive there, you were seated around a campfire with beers and joints being passed to and around you.

“Well, are your parents here now?” Xavier’s friend — and ex — Montana asked, taking a long pull from her bottle. “The only geezers I saw were Margaret and that chef.”

Did it bother you that you were expected to drink? No. It wasn’t the first time you had to turn down the temptation of alcohol before and it wouldn’t be the last. Did it bother you that you were expected to drink by Xavier’s ex-girlfriend? Yes. Very much so.

You had no time to be rational. Quickly and without a thought, you grabbed the bottle and brought it to your lips maybe a little too quickly. The glass clicked against your teeth and you missed half of your mouth when slinging your arm back to pour the foul smelling liquid down your throat.

If it smelled foul, it tasted even fouler. You were just getting ready to spit it out when you saw Xavier staring at you with rapt attention. You told yourself that there was no other choice but to swallow it.

As soon as the beer was down, you had to suppress a gag as goosebumps rose on your skin. If you couldn’t even get passed one sip, it was going to be a long summer. The time had finally come to ignore the voices of your parents that you heard every time you tried to do something new. It was time to live your own life.

With far more grace than the first time, you took a second sip. Then a third. Each sip was less and less repulsive and suddenly, the bottle was empty. With a silent hiccup you followed everyone’s lead and set the empty bottle down at your side and tuned in to the conversation going on.

“What about you, Xavier? Seeing anyone?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Not really? What was not really supposed to mean?”

Before you could stop it, the words were out of your mouth and a little more slurred than you would’ve expected them to be.

“It means I’m not seeing anyone.” Xavier’s lips quirked into a mischievous grin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in anyone.”

“Got it,” you replied, the alcohol making you feel a little bolder and ready to match Xavier’s wit. “I’m not really seeing anyone either.”

Now Montana was interested. She leaned forward, a joint dangling from her lips and asked the dreaded question.

“Who are you interested in, Y/N?”

“Why uh.. why aren’t you asking Xavier that?” You questioned. “He said it first.”

“I don’t care who Xavier is interested in. Probably some actress he had to fake kiss during an audition or something.”

“Not true!” Xavier snapped. “That happened one fucking time, Montana.”

“Yeah,” Ray the frat boy jumped in “Let’s hear from our new friend.”

“You know,” Chet, the final of the friend group, said. “I think I wanna know too.”

“Like I’d really tell you guys who I was interested in.”

You tried to say it smoothly, like it was no big deal, but the alcohol made it hard to focus on anyone but Xavier and you’d made a fatal mistake by staring longingly at him as you spoke. Montana didn’t miss a thing.

“It’s Xavier,” Montana said with a laugh. “Did you see how she stared at him the entire time she said that?”

“Not again!” Chet and Ray groaned in unison.

“Why is it always Xavier?” Chet asked. “I’m here too ya know.”

“What can I say?” Xavier smiled, popping his collar. “I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t sit there and listen to them talking about your crush on Xavier like you weren’t even there. Montana had some nerve. She didn’t have to say anything, but she told everyone. You had to get away from them. You had to go home. There was no way you’d be able to look at Xavier all summer knowing what he knows while having to deal with the fact that he’s interested in someone else. You got up, stumbling slightly, and stalked off toward the lake.

Bare feet dangling off the dock, above glistening water, you let your toes skim across the surface. It was cold enough to send a chill through your body and you hoped it was enough to sober you up so you could call your parents and have them pick you up.

“Hey.”

You turned your body toward the familiar voice to find Xavier standing at the end of the dock, waiting for permission to come closer.

“You didn’t have to run off like that. You ok?”

He said it with such sincerity that for a brief moment, you thought he might be there because he wanted to be and not because his friends told him to come check on you.

“I’m fine. Just… embarrassed.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N. And if it’s because of what Montana said, ignore her, she’s just jealous.”

Montana Duke, jealous of you? That made about as much sense as the rest of the night did; none.

“Besides,” Xavier continued, coming to sit at the end of the dock with you. “we didn’t even get to talk about who I’m interested yet.”

“Is it actually some actress you made out with at an audition?” You asked, afraid to hear the answer.

Xavier shook his head, “No.”

And then he was scooting closer to you,stopping when his thigh hit yours. He moved slowly as to not scare you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. He brought a hand to either side of your face and cupped each of your cheeks, brushing at your cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. Slowly, he moved forward with a question in his eyes. You nodded eagerly, smiling a bit when those perfect lips pressed against yours in a gentle — yet far from chaste — kiss.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the dozens of times you’d thought about doing exactly this, but you opened your mouth just enough to allow Xavier’s bottom lip between your own and you missed him back, opening your mouth further to allow his tongue in for the briefest moment before he pulled away to look at you.

“It’s you, Y/N,” Xavier said, a slight grin playing at his lips. “Why do you think I invited you here?”

“To be nice?” You asked.

“No,” Xavier replied with a shake of his head for dramatic purposes. “So I wouldn’t have to spend the whole summer without you right when I’d found you.”

#i write shit #xavier plympton x reader #Anonymous #xavier plympton #xavier plympton fanfition #american horror story fanfiction #american horror story #ahs 1984 #writing shit

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musicaltheatrewannabe · 4 years

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snow - a seblos oneshot <3

hope yall had a merry christmas - i am back with another seblos fic bc i cant get enough of them, so here we have them as boyfriends building a snowman and cute shenanigans ensue, enjoy!

Carlos put his feet up on the couch and yawned. It was the morning of December 26th and all of the Christmas excitement in his house from the day before had worn off, leaving his family scattered around doing nothing. For one thing, it wasn’t snowing anymore, and the non-stop snowfall of the day before had made it a magical white Christmas. Carlos got out his phone and scrolled mindlessly through the multitude of Christmas - and the handful of Hanukkah - posts on Instagram, smiling at all of his friends’ pictures. He was so glad that the production of High School Musical that semester had given him not only the opportunity to work as a choreographer, but also his first real group of friends. And then there was Seb, his boyfriend. Carlos smiled at the thought of the blonde musical theatre farmboy. He was still getting used to them being boyfriends, but with every day that they spent together it sunk in a little more. Carlos navigated back to Seb’s account and was looking at his family Christmas post just a little longer when he received a text from him: hey babe! happy boxing day lol:)

Carlos felt his heart flutter at being called “babe” and replied: happy boxing day to you too! you doing anything interesting to celebrate? ahaha.

Seb’s reply came immediately: not really - everyone has kind of disappeared to their own corners of the house…

Carlos stretched his back and sat up a bit on the couch before replying: honestly same, idk how my house went from the chaos it was last night to being completely deserted.

Seb wrote back again: well, if you’re not doing anything, do you wanna come over? the snow is so pretty here on the farm!

Carlos already started getting off the couch as he typed out his reply: yes pls, ok ill be there soon!

Soon enough Carlos had put on a scarf, hat and gloves, and had gotten one of his older cousins to drive him to Seb’s farm. He rang the doorbell eagerly, filled with the nervous energy that he got every time he saw Seb. Carlos heard footsteps thundering down the stairs and smiled at the fact that Seb was running to get the door. A few moments later, it swung open to reveal Seb grinning out at Carlos. “Hi!” he said, and leaned in to give Carlos a peck.

Carlos blushed at the kiss and said, “hey, what’s up?” He walked inside after Seb and started to take off his coat and hat when the other boy turned to grab his arms.

“Well, I’ve honestly just been hanging around so far, but I was thinking we could head out back and, I don’t know, like, make a snowman? Or something?” Seb looked hopefully at Carlos.

Carlos shrugged his coat back on with an eager grin, “yes, that sounds super fun!”

“Ok, great! Let me just put on my coat and boots,” Seb reached into his hall closet to get his winter clothes, including a long knitted rainbow scarf.

“Is that a homemade scarf?” Carlos asked. “Because it’s very cute,” he nodded his approval.

Seb grinned and wrapped it around his neck. “My grandma knitted it and gave it to me for Christmas,” he said, “it’s really cute, she’s been trying so hard to show her acceptance of me being gay ever since I came out to her last year.” Seb closed the closet and walked Carlos through the living room to the house’s back door.

“That’s so sweet, did you manage to fit your entire extended family in here last night?” Carlos asked, trying to imagine dozens of relatives filling the space.

“Don’t ask me how,” Seb laughed, opening the door and stepping out onto the porch. “Between my extended family and the farm animals, there was a lot of chaotic energy here last night.”

Carlos reached out to hold Seb’s hand as they looked out at the untouched snow beyond the porch. “Well, it’s very peaceful now,” he said, leaning his head onto Seb’s shoulder.

Seb took a deep breath and basked in the silence for all of three seconds before yelling, “not for long!” and running off the porch out into the snow.

Carlos laughed and followed suit, trying for fun to step exclusively in the footprints that Seb had made. “You’re such an idiot!” he called after his boyfriend, who was already gathering up snow into a large pile. When Carlos caught up to Seb, he started helping to build the base of the snowman.

They quickly finished the first layer, though that one was the easiest. Seb tried to make a small snowball and roll it around to accumulate more snow for the second layer, but it kept falling apart when it was only half the size that they wanted. When Seb kept failing, Carlos said, “here, watch and learn,” and tried as well, but his snow wouldn’t stick together either.

“You were saying?” Seb smirked and raised an eyebrow at Carlos, who shot him a glare in return.

“Hey, this has always worked for me before, okay?” Carlos countered, playfully hitting Seb on the arm. Seb feigned shock and knelt back down to the ground, forming a snowball again. “What are you doing, honey, it’s not just gonna work all of a sudden-“ Carlos’ sentence was cut off when Seb looked up at him with a mischievous grin and threw the snowball at him.

“Seems like that one worked,” Seb giggled.

Carlos raised his eyebrows at Seb and calmly said, “oh, I see, we’re doing this?” He dropped down to the ground to start making several snowballs, and a look of worry crossed Seb’s face.

“Uh oh…” Seb trailed off, running away from Carlos and the house. He stopped behind a tree and started making his own set of snowballs there, ready to retaliate when Carlos would attack. Seb took a quick peek back around the tree and was immediately met by a snowball to the chest and Carlos running toward him.

“How are your reflexes so fast, what the hell?” Seb laughed, throwing a few snowballs at the quickly-approaching Carlos.

“Ten years of dance training!” Carlos shouted back with a grin and a pirouette. Before he could reach the blonde boy, he dropped his last snowball and stopped to make a new one.

Seb took this as his opportunity to get away and ran in the opposite direction, frantically looking back to see Carlos hot on his trail. “No!” he shrieked and laughed as Carlos hit him right in the center of his back. Seb dramatically dropped to his knees and fell into the snow, turning around so he was on his back.

Carlos stood over him with a triumphant grin. “Do you accept defeat?” he asked.

Seb nodded and held out his hand. “Help me up?” he asked, looking up at Carlos with puppy dog eyes.

Carlos rolled his eyes and laughed, grabbing Seb’s hand. “You shouldn’t have dropped to the floor,” he tried to pull but Seb wouldn’t get up, and instead pulled Carlos to the ground with him.

Carlos let out a shriek but landed gracefully before laying his head carefully back into the snow. Seb laughed and turned to his boyfriend, his face softening into a smile, before looking back up at the clear blue sky again. He stretched out his arms and started sliding them up and down, along with his legs. “Look, a snow angel!” Seb turned his head to Carlos and beamed at him.

Carlos smiled fondly and softly said, “you’re a snow angel,” before blushing madly. “Oh my God that was so cheesy I’m sorry,” he laughed, and Seb giggled.

Seb stopped making the snow angel and shuffled closer so he could wrap an arm around Carlos. “No, I think it’s cute when you say stuff like that,” he chuckled. “It shows that you’re comfortable around me,” he said softly and nuzzled Carlos’ nose with his own.

Carlos stared back at Seb in awe and wrapped his arm around his neck. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he smiled, their faces still nearly touching. Barely needing to move, he leaned in to kiss Seb, slowly and gently. Seb’s arm tightened around Carlos’ back and then his hand started tracing patterns over the other boy’s coat. Carlos played with the hair at the nape of Seb’s neck in response, eliciting a contented sigh. They pulled apart and locked eyes again, not needing any words to express what they were feeling. Carlos leaned back into the snow again and his eyes drifted shut. Maybe it was just the cold, or maybe it was the way that he could feel Seb there without seeing him, but he felt the need to take in the moment, and Seb did the same.

After they had laid in the snow a few minutes longer, both boys started to really process the cold and got up to wander back to their unfinished snowman.

“Let’s try together,” Seb suggested regarding their previous failed attempts at making the second layer. Instead of just rolling a regular snowball around, they placed one on the first layer and packed snow onto it, and it stuck together.

“Nice!” Carlos high-fived Seb when they got the second layer to stay in place. They quickly managed to make the snowman’s head as well.

“I’ll go get some pebbles - can you find a few twigs for the arms back at my tree?” Seb asked with a chuckle.

Carlos picked out two pretty even sticks to be the arms and returned to find Seb giving their snowman pebble eyes, a nose and a mouth. Carlos nodded approvingly and stared at the snowman contemplating how to stick in the arms, earning a laugh from Seb.

Finally he stuck the twigs into the snowman so that they were sticking up, twig hands in the air. “Now we can call him Bob Fosse, what do you think?” Carlos grinned at Seb.

“Sounds about right,” Seb laughed, taking off his hat to put it on Fosse’s head.

“And for the finishing touch,” Carlos said and dramatically put his scarf around the snowman. He stepped back to look proudly at Fosse and took a picture of him.

“You know what? I’m very impressed with our creation!” Seb beamed at Carlos, their gazes lingering on each other. Seb noticed Carlos shiver and his expression turned to one of concern. “You don’t have a scarf anymore!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m fine,” Carlos said, his teeth chattering.

“No no, it’s cold! Here, we can share mine,” Seb unwrapped his long rainbow scarf and looped it around Carlos’ neck, pulling him closer and wrapping it around his own neck as well. Both boys laughed at the impracticality of it but Seb just put his arms around Carlos and said, “see?”

Carlos couldn’t help but smile as he glanced up at Seb’s head. “And you don’t have a hat anymore, which means I get to do this,” he grinned as he ran his fingers through Seb’s hair.

The blonde boy thought about protesting in the name of not messing up his hair, but then he realized that he’d already laid in the snow, and besides, it felt really nice. “I won’t complain this time,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“So the truth comes out, huh?” Carlos chuckled and dropped his hands back down, earning a pout from his boyfriend. Seb tightened the scarf around their necks to bring them closer to each other and crashed their lips together. Carlos was momentarily startled by the action but his eyes squeezed shut and he reacted quickly. His hands flew back up to Seb’s head, running through his hair, and Carlos felt Seb smile into the kiss. He pulled away but placed tons of little kisses over Seb’s cheeks and jaw, earning a small giggle, before returning to his lips. Seb finally pulled away for good and nuzzled his face into Carlos’ neck.

They rested there peacefully for a moment before Seb’s little sister ran out onto the porch and yelled, “Sebby! Can you make us hot chocolate?!!” The boys rolled their eyes with a sigh and laughed.

Seb unwrapped the scarf, leaving it around Carlos’ neck, and took his hand to walk back inside. Seb couldn’t help but kiss Carlos on the cheek right before they walked in. “You just look so cute in my scarf,” he said with an unapologetic smile.

After making hot chocolate for all of the kids, the boys were cleaning up in the kitchen. “You know,” Seb said, turning to Carlos, “we should make this our new Boxing Day tradition, since neither of us had one.”

Carlos smiled and raised his eyebrows at Seb. “Oh yeah? That could work… Which part?”

Seb bit his lip and grinned, wrapping an arm around Carlos’ waist and whispering into his ear, “all of it?”

#hsmtmts #seblos #carlos #frankie rodriguez #seb matthew smith #joe serafini #they love each other #so much #snow angels

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professional-benaddict · 5 years

Text

Starker ficlet - BSDM auction AU

For the moodboard and drabble here

Dom Tony, sub 18+ Peter, Dom Stephen, BDSM, Dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, crying bc it’s not a fic of mine unless Peter’s crying, 1.5k

----------

“Oh, back so soon, Stark. What happened to Keener?” Stephen purrs smoothly when he sees Tony walking into the backstage. Let’s just say that not everyone makes it past the bouncers to get backstage, unless Stephen has put you on the sacred list.

“Dumped him. He could hardly take a beating.” Tony responds simply. “I heard you got a dozen new subs to show off tonight.” The Dom says, cutting right to the point of why he is at Stephen’s secret underground club. Stephen is hosting another auction and Tony is aching to get his hands on a new sub since Harley hardly lasted a month.

“Two dozen actually, and a good amount of twinks this time too.” The other Dom says, knowing that his friend has a peculiar taste, and is not interested in female subs.

“This better be good Strange.” Tony grumbles as he moves to walk past Stephen and to the audience to sit down. “And get me a scotch, will you?”

Stephen scoffs in return, taking the clipboard that his assistant is showing him.

“I’m not your sub, Stark, but I will provide you with one.” The other Dom chuckles before heading off when it is announced from somewhere above that the auction is starting in ten minutes.

After getting his scotch, Tony goes and finds himself a free booth and enjoys his drink as he waits for the auction to start. But, even when the auction starts, Tony pays more attention to his phone and his drink since Stephen always does the girls first. Half an hour later, Stephen finally brings the first boy on stage and Tony starts paying attention, but after the fourth boy, Tony starts to lose hope of finding himself a new toy tonight.

When Stephen announces that this is the second to last boy, Tony finishes his drink in one big gulp before getting up, ready to leave the auction empty-handed, but then his eye catches something glorious on stage. It is the boy, number 42, standing there in all his naked glory with nothing but a simple, black leather collar around his neck and his delicate hand in Stephen’s much larger and stronger one. Before even considering for a brief second, Tony shouts out his offer, which is so high already that only one other person in the dark room challenges it, but it is all pocket money for Tony and he raises once more. And so, the sub is Tony’s and Stephen says he can collect his belonging backstage once they have gone through all the subs. Half an hour later, Peter’s delicate hand is in Tony’s.

“All yours, Stark. Enjoy.” Stephen grins widely and waltzes away now that all the money has been transferred by his customers to his account. The sub looks as Stephen walks away longingly before turning to Tony, but he does not raise his head to meet the older man’s eyes.

“What’s your name, boy?” Tony asks, almost already bored, but he has to give the sub a chance since he paid so much to get him. The boy flinches visibly before speaking, but that might just be from the cold since he is just dressed in a black silk robe that was provided by Stephen’s staff.

“Peter, Sir. Peter Parker.” Peter squeaks out.

“I’m Tony Stark, but you will refer to me as Mr Stark at all times. Understood?”

“Understood, Mr Stark.”

“Good, now let’s see if you’re trained at all. Undress and present.”

“R-right here?” Peter asks unsurely.

“Yes, right here! Who’s in charge, huh?” Tony snaps with a raised voice and Peter snaps into action. “Christ, who trained you?”

“Mr Beck, Mr Stark.” Peter replies quickly after folding his silk robe as neatly as he can before placing it next to his feet. The sub then spreads his legs to be at shoulder-length, straightens his back, lifts his head and raises his arms to intertwine his fingers behind his head.

After being a Dom for most of his life, Tony can recognise a good presentation posture from a mile away, and this boy is a horrendous sub, but also a stunning sub. The boy jumps visibly when the older man begins touching him and corrects his posture. His collar feels tight around his neck when he feels his new Dom’s keen eyes on him, examining every bit of his naked body. A group of people walk past right when Tony is groping at Peter’s exposed cock and balls, but the boy can hardly say anything to protest the suffocating embarrassment but to keep his gaze down and mouth shut.

“I’ve heard that Beck’s subs are the worst ‘round here.” Tony muses and straightens up after inspecting his new belonging. Peter gulps a little, but does not reply as he was not directly addressed in the form of a question. “But, you’re such a pretty thing, that I guess I’ll give you a chance.”

Peter sighs in relief and for a brief second, he lets his posture down, but he straightens up as soon as he realises his mistake, glancing up nervously at his new Dom before dropping his gaze. Tony smirks, thinking that perhaps the sub is not so hopeless after all. The Dom snaps his fingers.

“Get dressed. We are going home.”

A week later, Peter is less of a horrendous sub, but still far from the standard that Tony is used to. Half of the time, the Dom wonders how on Earth Peter even made it to Stephen Strange and put up for auction when he is clearly barely trained. He also thinks about how bad of a deal it was to pay so much money for a badly trained sub, but the other half of the time, Tony marvels at the sheer beauty of the boy that is now occupying his guest room, right next to his own master bedroom.

Despite his bad posture, lack of manners and half-assed training, the boy reminds Tony of a fairy. He is light as a feather on his feet and mostly walks on his toes, but when he does walk with his heels on the floor too, it is soft and delicate. The Dom wonders if the sub is afraid of angering him, and that is why he is tip-toeing around, so he assures him that he can roam around freely, except for the playroom, his bedroom and the office. Peter must get permission to enter those rooms.

To balance out his light and delicate form, Peter’s eyes are dark and carry a lot of history for such a young man. Tony hopes that he can get the privileges of knowing the sub’s backstory one day, as there is a hint of sadness is those dark brown eyes that catches his curiosity. But, for now the Dom has to focus on training his sub.

“No, hands flat on your thighs.” Tony corrects for the third time after commanding a naked Peter to kneel by his feet. The Dom kicks the boy’s hand lightly with his Oxford shoes, which matches his three-piece suit.

“Sorry, Mr Stark.” Peter says a little thickly as being corrected for all his failures since waking up is taking its toll on his self-esteem. He swallows down a sob, but he is a fraction too late and catches Tony’s attention.

“What’s the matter?” Tony asks and remains standing in front of Peter.

“I-“

“Speak up!”

“I’m humiliated!” Peter yelps out and sobs again, but does not lift his hands from his thighs to wipe at his eyes.

“Well, you have to put those feelings aside, because this is not humiliating in the slightest. If only you knew, boy.” Tony scoffs and goes to get himself a drink from the stand in the corner of the living room, leaving Peter on the carpet. He could have made the sub kneel on the wooden floor, but he decided to be kind and chose the carpet instead. “Posture!”

Peter flinches and puts his hand back on his thigh, biting back another sob.

“One more mistake and I’m spanking you, do you understand? But, I highly doubt you want that since you cannot even take verbal correction. So, I highly suggest you start behaving like a proper sub and not like a crybaby, or I’m spanking you till you cannot walk and then returning you to that shit Beck who apparently ‘trained’ you.”

Peter’s expression hardens, but he does not say anything. After swallowing his sobs down and sniffling the last tears away, Peter corrects his posture without Tony prompting him to do so. The Dom hums quietly and goes to sit on the leather sofa, watching the sub closely while sipping on his drink. 20 minutes pass, then 40 and then an hour has passed, and Peter has kept his posture perfect without making so much as a peep. With a pleased smile, Tony rises from his seat and offers his hand to the boy who looks up at him with a bewildered expression.

“Come on, training is over for today. Let’s get you a hot meal and then to bed.” Tony says, his voice much softer than before and Peter almost wants to cry again, but he doesn’t.

“Thank you, Mr Stark.” Peter replies politely and holds onto his Dom’s hand tightly as he leads the way to the kitchen. Smiling softly, Tony nods back. Perhaps the boy is not so horrendous after all.

#my fics #my prompts #starker #starker fic #starker fanfic #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony stark

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clovis-enthusiast · 5 years

Text

Little thought about The Tyrant’s Tomb. [SPOILERS!!!!]

oKAY, so I’m gonna start off by saying that, as usual, Rick Riordan’s writing style never fails to impress and draw me in to keep reading and not stop until I’ve devoured every last word. I was DESPERATE to read this book because it took me longer to get it than usual, and I was trying to go into it spoiler free (aside from reading the snippets that Uncle Rick posted on his Twitter every now and then.) I pretty much managed to do so, and it made the experience that much more emotional for me. I went into The Burning Maze KNOWING that Jason was going to die, but I had absolutely no idea what I’d be facing in this book.

Camp Jupiter

I’m just gonna flat out say it; I was never really all that interested in Camp Jupiter in the beginning. I didn’t like the majority of the characters (aside from Dakota who is my legal son) and the camp structure (though accurate to the Romans) seemed too strict and harsh to me. The ranking systems confused me, and it all in all just did not appeal to me the way Camp Half-Blood does. However, the more I read, the more attached I grew, and although I still MUCH prefer Camp Half-Blood and would choose it in a heartbeat when choosing between the two camps, it still became an interesting place to read about. I ADORE the idea of New Rome and the sharp contrast of silly demigods like the fifth cohort vs. the strict rules and upbringing of the camp.

When Jason died in The Burning Maze and the next book was set to take place surrounding Camp Jupiter, I grew excited. I REALLY wanted to meet more of the demigods of the Roman camp and explore them more (mostly Dakota but I digress.) Although I knew reading about everyone’s reactions to Jason’s death would be hard, I fought through it and was somewhat surprised by the lack of grieving that was presented. I mean, the ENTIRE first few chapters were ALL about Jason’s coffin and Lester and Meg grieving and trying their best to get it to camp but when it actually got there there really wasn’t that much of an uproar. At first I thought that was strange but looking back at it the Romans are brought up to be strong and not let emotions take over them, and people like Hazel have to show absolute strength. Besides the camp was already in mourning over DOZENS of other campers at the time.

That was another thing that sort of bugged me. I was absolutely ITCHING to meet some new characters and granted I got a few, but the majority of the ‘newer’ characters had already been killed and served only as the undead army.

THAT WAS SO FUCKED UP. It was one thing that I think Rick did a really good job with in upping the deep and darkness of the Riordanverse series. Can you imagine fighting your undead comrades and friends?? Like holy shit, that was emotional. I was super worried I spoiled something for myself on Istagram bc I read a post someone made about Jason trying to get the undead Romans to follow him instead or direct them away from camp, but I should have known it wasn’t true since he was literally burned.

Frank

Speaking of burning, I ACTUALLY thought Rick killed Frank off. Up until this book, I hadn’t really realized how much I loved this man. His character is just so well-written and likable and when he sacrificed the wood, I was like NOOOOOOOOO. I was SO grateful he came back in the end because I was sure Rick would never hear the end of THAT one if he allowed it to really happen. On the bright side, my baby boy can now enjoy his life with a little bit more vigor and less fear now that the stick is gone for good.

New Characters

Lavinia Asimov: Okay, Lavinia is a REALLLLLLLY weird character to me. She reminds me a lot of Lou Ellen to be honest, but for some reason, she doesn’t appeal to me as much as Lou Ellen does. (Maybe it’s just because I tend to prefer minor characters) Her rebelliousness seemed a little too... forced at times?? And her whole thing with the dryads and fauns was kinda weird too, but I guess since she likes Poison Ivy, it makes sense. However, she kinda did grow on me, I suppose, and I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her.

Poison Ivy: I REALLY wished we could have met her even just once. Lavinia would not shut up about her and was CONSTANTLY rebelling against the rules in camp just to see her, so I wanna know just what kind of a character she is. I’m sure she would have been very interesting and sassy to have been Lavinia’s love interest lol

Pranjal: He’s a good boy!!! Not quite sure how to pronounce his name properly, but his appearance is adorable and I LOVE the fact that he’s a son of Aesculapius because he’s one of my favorite gods soooo... I really wish we could have seen more of him!! He’s kinda like Clovis in the way that he has like one important part, gets mentioned like two times afterwards and then never again :^/

Aristophanes: he’s a cat,,, i love him,,,

Harpocrates: This was SO interesting and out of the blue to me having gone in spoiler free!! He’s earned a new spot up in my favorite gods list because of how interesting and mysterious he is. His concept was great and although i was sad to see him sacrificed, I hope that he and Sibyl are together wherever they are bc that was damn cute and made me so emotional afgkjldg why did Apollo have to be such a dick as a god,,,

New names with little to no info: Carl (Roman demigod,) Reza (Roman demigod,) Reginald (faun,) Felipe (faun,) Harold (faun,) Lotoya (dryad,) Buster (unicorn,) Muffin (unicorn,) Whagadoodle (unicorn,) Shirley (unicorn,) Horatio (unicorn,) One Eye (pegasus,) Small Ears (pegasus,) Boost (pandai,) Ida (Roman demigod,) Caelius (Roman demigod,) Thomas (Roman demigod,) Colum (Roman demigod,) and Terrel (Roman demigod)

Lester/Apollo

MY BOY HAS GROWN!!! He’s so human now, and I’m so proud. He doesn’t even second guess sacrificing himself or humiliating himself to save his friends. I just... I have a lot of feelings over his character development. Rick handles him SO well, and I just,,, I love him,,, i am,,, in love with him,, i would date lester papadopoulos

Meg

She’s grown to be such a doll!! I was SUPER annoyed by her in the first books, but now she’s my daughter. I love that she’s actually expressing emotions other than ‘annoying 12 year old’ now. Like I wanna protect her.

Reyna

She was a pretty good character in this book and her leaving the camp was a HUGE surprise to me. I kinda wish she was still praetor because idk Hazel just doesn’t rlly seem as fit for it as Reyna was, and I like Reyna a lot, but idk i guess it’s coolio. I was also glad Rick cleared up all the romance discourse about her too though the way he did it was kinda weird (she literally was using the word ‘ship’ out loud like wh-- and i don’t remember the venus thing at all so maybe i missed it from a different book? idk it came out of nowhere to me)

Ella and Tyson

I actually like Ella a lot now!! I used to find her quite annoying, and her relationship with Tyson felt forced, but now that I had the time to get used to her and figure out her character a little more, I do like her. She sort of treats Tyson weird, but I think towards the end, I fell for their relationship more. Tyson was literally excellent, show-stopping, breath-taking, amazing,,, like YESSS KING I LOVE YOU AND YOU PEANUT BUTTER-SMELLING SELF (that one scene where he just started dancing and apollo didn’t know if it was for the ritual or just bc he felt like it killed me)

Character Deaths

Dakota: I AM NEVER GOING TO GET OVER THIS ONE FOLKS. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY TIMES I HAD TO REREAD THE SAME SENTENCE TO MAKE SURE THAT I WASN’T HAVING A NIGHTMARE. I PHYSICALLY CANNOT BELIEVE THAT RICK KILLED HIM OFF. I’M STILL EMOTIONAL OVER IT, AND JUST AJSDHF;AMNJ ‘; NOOOOOOOOOOO THIS IS THE SECOND SIBLING POLLUX HAS LOST IM GOING TO S C R E A M HE WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS AND HE DESERVED BETTER DAMN IT I’M LITERALLY IN SHOCK LITERALLY DO NOT TALK TO ME LIKE I’M STILL IN SHOCK FROM CREST’S DEATH IN THE LAST BOOK TBH AND NOW THIS??? NOW I’M SCARED CLOVIS IS GONNA DIE JSDKLFKS the only thing that gives me comfort is that Jason can be with his friend in Elysium now fuckkkk,,, rick why did you do this to me,,, I LITERALLY CANNOT EXPRESS HOW UPSET I AM I WILL N E V E R HEAL

Don: Don was sort of a comic relief character in SoN, and it was very sad to see him go. He reminded me a lot of Grover, and his death scene with Lavinia ACTUALLY made me tear up. THIS BOOK MADE ME SO EMOTIONAL GOD DAKOTA AND DON WERE LITERAL BABIES RICK GIVE THEM BACK

Bobby: listen,,, we never even met this kid rlly and i was still super sad when lavinia had to kill him again and hannibal is without him and just ughhh whyyy

Julia’s mother, father, AND foster parents: HOLY SHIT RICK WASN’T THAT KIND OF OVERKILL??? I felt so bad for the poor girl, especially cause she’s like six??? But it’s very sweet that Terminus adopted her. I really liked that.

Jacob: AAHHHAHA this one made me sad too!!!! he was such a minor character, but he reminded me of Damien White and Ethan Nakamura (if he were allowed to actually be a kid,) so I think that’s why I was sort of partial to him. The way he died was SUPER horrid too, so I just,,, im big sad for him (on a good hand, he went down F I G H T I N G)

Mentions of anything relating to Hypnos or his children

Yes, i am keeping track, sue me. Somnus was mentioned one time in this book as one of the gods Apollo briefly considered summoning to his aid, and it is presumed he has some sort of tribute at Camp Jupiter had he not before. You’ll make another appearance someday Clovis, I know it :’^D

Final Thoughts

I literally CANNOT wait for the next book (which I presume is the last one.) From what it seems, we’re returning to New York, so Camp Half-Blood will be present. I can’t wait to see my babes again, and I’m REALLY hoping more minor characters will be allowed to shine (cough clovis cough) but like i KNOW some will die and just,,, im sad,,, dakota’s death has wrecked me,,, but on the side note, the new book is coming out in my last year of school!!! i’m so excited because this series holds emotional value to me like i’ve literally gone through my high school career with trials of apollo like it was with me the whole time and it’s one of the only things that keeps me going. i just,,, i have no words to express how much this series and all the others mean to me...

thank you so much for keeping me going, uncle rick. i can’t wait to see how this all ends :^) <3

#my post #spoilers #the tyrants tomb #toa #mine #me #clovis-enthusiast

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