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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

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My Little Physician Empress ~ Yin Zhen x Reader

Just a story in which reader, a regular girl, was allowed since very young to aid her father in being a Royal Physician, and helped the princes through the years without asking for anything in return.

Since ancient times, views on physician women have been distorted times and times again - Sometimes they are shamans, other times they are witches, and oftentimes, they simply don't deserve to live, no matter how many lives they save, or how capable they are.

Even now, in Qing dynasty, there is stigma, and all the physicians in the palace are men.

But that will soon change when, one day, a Physician from outside the palace is able to come up with a proper cure for the plague that was rampaging the people and somehow, found its way inside the palace too, and he was rewarded handsomely - He was awarded a wish granted - Any wish he wanted.

And that was to have his daughter allowed to aid him in his work inside the palace. He explained how his daughter played around with concoctions one day, and somehow gave him the brilliant idea for a revolutionary cure, and with this story, the Emperor indulged the old man and got them both in the palace.

They didn't earn a lot of money, but it was enough for them to dress appropriately with living in the palace. The girl never got any kind of accessory, so she mainly held her hand in a simply braid, occasionally put some flowers in it, and was ready to go on with the day in aiding her father.

But she was always a curious little girl, and very often, she went outside to play and discover every nook and cranny around the palace - Which is when she met the fourth prince - Not that she knew, though.

She held some struggling and splashing in the water one night, and saw a eunuch running away. Upon investigating, she saw a child who wasn't trashing around anymore, and he was about her age. She jumped in the lotus pond, getting him to the surface and, after opening his jacket, she pressed on his chest between his lungs and leaned in to give him the kiss of life.

As expected, the boy then jolted in a sitting position and started coughing, before falling into her arms once again, exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" she asked in a gentle voice, her hand on his cheek to get his attention. "Fine...I'm better now...Whoever pushed me is going to get killed, I'll make sure of that." the boy was angry, and rightfully so. He tried to get up, but was still wobbly, so the girl helped him go back to his room, letting him lean on her side. "It was an Eunuch. I saw him running away from the pond after you got underneath the water." she told him what she saw. "Now that I think about it...Who are you? I've never seen you around the palace, have I?" he asked suspiciously. "Don't be suspicious of the person who saved your life. I am Y/N, daughter of the Royal Physician who came up with the cure for the plague." she explained in a gentle manner. "Figures. Then, that means you know who I am, don't you?" he scoffed lightly. "Uh...No, not really. Should I?" she tilted her head a little to the side. "You don't? They why did you save me?" he asked, even more confused now. "...Because you were dying?! Did you notice that? Was I supposed to let you die there? Tell me, I can quite literally drag you back to the pond and throw you back if you want? I will ask for you name first and only then rescue you." she scolded him in disbelief at his ungratefulness. "No. No, you're right. Anyway, thanks for saving me. How did you save me? I know I blacked out as some point, right?" he said, and with all the nonchalance in the world, she answered. "I gave you the kiss of life." this answer made the boy stop in his tracks, yelling at her. "YOU DID WHAT?! That’s... That’s improper! I will have you flogged and caned for that! You’re a woman, and I’m a man, and we are both unmarried, it’s... It’s...!" he gaped at her in horror. "You do realise you stopped breathing, don't you? And if I didn't get you breathing again, your heart would have stopped. If your heart stopped pumping, blood wouldn't have gone everywhere in your body, to all your organs, therefor you would have gotten a total system failure in less than 10 to 15 minutes. That means, for idiots like you who don't value life, that you would have died if I didn't do that." she rolled her eyes at him, dragging him inside the pavilion, where lots of eunuchs and maids fussed over him. "Su Peisheng! Reward this maid handsomely, she saved my life." the little boy said - He must be one of the princes, the girl thought, amused. "No thanks. I saved your life, that's all. You yelled enough at me, I don't want anything from you anymore. Next time I try to save your life, remind me to ask you your name first and only then ask consent to save your life." the girl rolled her eyes at him, thinking him hypocritical, and turned around to go home, only to have the boy catch her wrist immediately. "Then, ask for anything, and I'll give it to you." he said, very seriously. "Fine. I'm not a maid, I'm a Female Physician, therefor you must address me properly from now on. Physician Y/N. Got it?" her voice was authoritarian, but she didn't inspire malice or evil, and it quite amused the young prince. "Very well. Until we meet again, Physician Y/N." and thus, making her smile softly, she left the place with a nod of Goodnight. "Su Peisheng." the boy called out his eunuch one again. "What do Physician girls like?" he asked, almost innocently. "Forgive me, Your Highness, this one does not know, for there have not been female physicians in the palace before. However, girls usually like feminine things like clothes and accessories. Miss Y/N wasn't wearing any, as far as I saw." the eunuch provided the young prince with the information. "I see...Very well. Tomorrow, you will send some red agate earrings to her. Make sure you give them to her directly." the boy ordered his slave, who nodded in agreement.

However, the next day, the eunuch returned as he left - With the gift box in his hands and endless apologies. "Miss Y/N wanted me to inform you never to gift her...To quote her...Useless things. Pardon my rudeness, Your Highness, I am merely telling you her words. She said that expensive earrings won't help her save lives. I tried to convince her, but she threatened to throw them in the pigstry." the eunuch kowtowed to the ground in front of the young prince, only for him to raise him up and chuckle in amusement. "Don't worry, it's fine. I'll just bring them to mother and ask her for advice. This is no ordinary girl I'm dealing with."

And this way, his mother advised him to find rare healing-related books, even more so, from the West, and gift them to her. She immediately accepted them, and Yin Zhen often found the mysterious girl reading by the wisteria tree, unbothered by anything and anyone.

The 4th prince often looked at her and got reminded of his annoying 3rd prince brother, but at least she wasn't so obsolete and dissolute like him.

He would find her occasionally swinging in the Apricot garden, where it was mostly quiet and very few people visited, and even so, he would often hear her practicing flute-playing.

The next Prince she met was, to Yin Zhen’s entertainment and slight jealousy, was the 3rd Prince, Yin Zhi, as she was delivering medicine to one of the Imperial Concubines, the foreign melodious tune of an instrument she has never heard of before, and as expected, her curiosity led her directly to this Prince who seemed just a bit older than her, standing under a tree and practicing said instrument.

The girl could only stay there in awe, the wonderful melody taking over her senses and imagination, only for a sudden screech to destroy everything, making her yelp in shock. The jerk of a Prince made the bow unceremoniously scratch the violin’s strings, making a God Forsaken ear-bleeding noise.

“Hope you enjoyed that as well, stalker.” the prince sneered at her, but to his surprise, she merely chuckled. “Wonderful how such an elegant instrument can create hellish sounds in the wrong hands. Only someone hardworking, dedicated and with grace can play this instrument. You are a Prince, aren’t you?” she leaned on the tree, a knowing smirk on her face. “If you figured that out, then why aren’t you bowing to the ground right now?” the aggressiveness displayed in his voice and words seemed to contradict his actions as he sat down at the table, where neatly drawn blueprints and parts to be engineered with. “I can accept the consequences of my mistake and I even won’t protest, should you want to take my head off, should you be so kind as to explain to me the process of building this wonderful instrument. It is a Western one, is it not?” she sat down next to him, analysing the papers carefully. “What would some lowly maid like you know of Western technology? Why should I waste my time on you?” he scoffed, looking down at her. “Do you not find sharing such groundbreaking information with someone genuinely interested to be rather... Enlightening? From my short stay here, in the Palace, I have found out that the 2nd Prince is rather dissolute and promiscuous, but at the same time, a very intelligent and lonely person who cannot interact with others. From the looks of it, you simply have completely different aspirations and interests, while your brothers are solely interested in this Game of Thrones, and you cannot possibly have a proper, intellectual conversation with them. Correct me if I’m wrong, however, and I will leave you alone.” that vixen-like smile on her face made the Prince want to strangle her and wipe that stupid smirk off her face for daring to figure him out so well. At the same time, however, he hasn’t felt so challenged in his life and frankly, this little maid could prove to be more interesting than expected. “I’ll have you thrown to the Office of Punishments should you dare bore me at any time after the cheeky, daring stunt you pulled. Now, you better be paying attention to every word I am about to tell you, I hate repeating myself for dumb airheads, understood?” his voice was serious and mature, especially for someone his age, but that only meant that Y/N had what to learn from him, and for that, she was grateful. “I swear to do my best and keep up with your intellectual explanations, so please, do be patient with me for I am very grateful for the time you are taking out of your schedule to teach me.” she bowed her head to him, and thus, with a soft huff, the Prince began explaining the to the girl about the peculiar instrument in his hands. “This is called a Violin, and this is called a Bow. As you guessed, this instrument was created in the West, from a country called “Italy”, in an unknown date from the 16th century. Although paintings from back then show the Violin had 3 strings, now, as you can see, it has four...” and so, he continued by showing her the component parts of the violin both on the instrument, and on the blueprints, only for him to, in the end, gift her the ink drawing he made of the original blueprint, as a way for her to promise to continue studying on her own too.

There were many other Royal Princes and Princesses, but many weren’t as interesting as the 3rd and 4th Prince who, quite frankly, were a force to be reckoned with. While Yin Zhi would teach her how to build a clock, or show her interesting literature, Yin Zhen would be adamant in taking her horse-riding and, surprisingly, he was rather interested in her healing knowledge, thus why, he would always acquire the rarest books from all over the world and, instead of giving them for the Physicians to learn, he would gift them to this lovely maid whose company he loved so much.

Time passed quickly, they got older, both Y/N and her father rapidly advanced in their ranks thanks to their revolutionary treatments that cured every illness, and the princes all grew into fine men - Which meant that the true Game of Thrones began for everyone in the palace, not just them.

The first to go down was the Crown Prince who, as Y/N discovered, had ricing powder put in his food. “It is quite simple, and unfortunately, incredibly deadly, even in small doses. All you need is the beans from a castor oil plant, you make them into powder and... You’ve got one of the deadliest poisons there are. My only guess is, it would have to have been someone from the Imperial Kitchens who could do such a feat because, if the powder was put on the dishes after being prepared, it would still be mildly visible, whereas if it was put in a big pot, it would get homogenized and thus, leave no visible or taste trace.” Y/N explained in front of the Emperor, standing poised and ignoring all the other many eyes staring at her. “I have heard many times of ricin, but none was ever brave enough to dare bring it into the Palace, especially after I have forbidden any dish to be made with Castor oil! For the poison to act, one administration was enough?” Emperor Kangxi asked, rage and sorrow evident on his face. “No, Your Majesty. I imagine that the culprit played it smart and only added small doses of ricin powder in His Highness’s food, but regularly. I have read the Medical Files from the Bureau of Imperial Physicians and I have noticed that His Highness was complaining of an upset stomach, difficulty in breathing, occasional coughs that turned bloody over time and spiking fevers - Again, all over a rather long period of time. If the culprit were to use a large dose of powder, the Princes wouldn’t have been able to finish all the food from the plate and, therefor, the Ricin would have been tenfold easier to detect. In this situation, however, small doses meant nobody would believe His Highness got sick because of the food, because of his healthy appetite, hence why he was treated symptomatically for unrelated, yet very possible diseases.” the Female Physician went on further with the deduction, which angered the Emperor even further. “These jackals won’t even allow my sons to eat anymore! From now on, every meal will have to be tested before any person from the Royal Family eats it. Find the culprit immediately!” the Emperor thundered, his voice echoing throughout the Hall of Mental Cultivation. “Your Majesty, if I may... Ricin cannot be detected with silver, and if it is put in hot meals, it wouldn’t be traceable anymore. There is no way to detect it. While ingesting the poison is admittedly the least toxic pathway into the human body... Even with a small dose, it starts to cause internal damage in as little as 6 hours after ingesting. In regular doses, death can occur in a maximum of 3 days, which means, to my understanding, that His Highness may have started being poisoned a week ago at most.” the girl spoke confidently, but also with a tint of reticence. “Are you trying to tell me there is no way of detecting the culprit?!” the man rose up from his throne, pointing his finger at her. “On the contrary. With the grace and cooperation of His Highness, the 4th Prince, a small pouch of herbs mixed with ricin powder was found in the pockets of one of the eunuchs helping at the Imperial Kitchens. That is to say... If the truth comes out that this eunuch was the one who put the powder in the food... We need a testimony and evidence that would point towards the mastermind behind this operation of regicide. His Highness was the Crown Prince and a mere eunuch wouldn’t be affected in any way by the future Emperor, however that may be, but someone who could benefit in having another candidate on the throne would get actively involved in working from the shadows...” she didn’t dare move her sight from the furious Eye of Heaven, no matter how much she wanted to avert her eyes and look at the Prince, begging to be taken away from there because the tension was crushing. “Yin Zhen!” calling out his son’s name, he stepped next to Y/N, bowed and knelt next to her. “The two of you did good in solving this crime. From now on, the two of you shall continue unmasking the truth of this mystery and bring justice to my son, the Crown Prince, got it? No matter who it is, I will have them punished!” the Emperor’s last command was abided by the two of them bowing to the ground and calling out their responses - “Yes, Your Majesty!”

And thus, the Hall of Mental Cultivation was cleared and the two people in cause walked away, looking at each other and letting out sighs of relief.

“Let’s not do that again.” the girl managed to mutter, putting the back of her hand to her forehead, exhausted from the trial. “You’re tired just from this? I was expecting a lot worse.” the Prince smirked at her, seeing her roll her eyes. “Yes, well, the Royal Family business isn’t for me. I’m fine just healing people and studying. It’s actually relaxing, you should try that once in a while.” she nudged him softly, only for him to stop in his tracks. “What if I tell you I want you to join the Royal Family.” he crossed his arms, looking at her with a playful expression. “I’d tell you... You’ve lost your mind... And that nobody would agree to something like this. I suppose I should remind you that... I am a commoner and you are, and I hope it doesn’t come as a shock to you, not only the Prince but... A very strong candidate at being the next Crown Prince.” she shook her head in amusement. “Father wants to promote you to Noble Lady Shuyu.” he refuted immediately. “Having ‘Noble’ in a title does not make you of noble birth. Don’t make it difficult for either of us, Yin Zhen. Not to mention, you would be doing me a great disservice by marrying me.” she explained, cautiously looking around for any prying eyes. “How is giving you a life of unlimited luxuries means I’m doing you a disservice?” he stepped closer to her, holding her hands to his chest. “I am jealous, first of all. Even if I am to be your main wife, which, by the way, is impossible, you would still need to have a huge amount of concubines because that is the life of a Duke and/or the Emperor, should you actually get the title. That doesn’t exactly sit amazingly well with me to begin with... And that also means I’m not exactly the most Virtuous, Selfless and King Empress that everyone would want the woman holding this title to be. That and... If I marry into the Royal Family, I won’t be able to continue my Physician work, and I will only have to stay inside a stupid, but nicely furnished palace, with tons of servants to do whatever the hell I want and many more other women who will be jealous of me and will plot to kill me. Ah, yes and the unfortunate case of you getting bored of me for a younger girl, when we get older, but that’s just that.” she got her hands back, and smiled at him sarcastically. “You’re an impossible woman, you know that, right? If you do, you should also know that, for you, I would give up the title of Crown Prince. If I am a duke, then it shouldn’t matter if I marry one woman alone, and whether or not she continues her hobby of healing people in a palace far away from the Forbidden City, where there would be no envious eye that would wish you harm. How does that sound.” his words were soft and gentle, and with every sweet word, he could see the girl’s defenses lowering down, bit by bit. “You would be an idiot to turn down the title you worked so hard for, especially after this perfect opportunity has just knocked on our doors. Don’t be stupid, Yin Zhen. I can still love you even if we are not legally married. Listen, we both know the 2nd Prince is the culprit, right? Him and his lousy mother of his, who wants to become the next Empress. I have a plan to take both of them down, and if we succeed, your place on the throne is automatically... But we have to be very smart about it. Very, very smart. Are you in?” she turned to look at him, as he stepped very close to her, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. “Since when have you become so scheming?” he asked, proud and amused. “Since I have a reason to win.” she winked at him, putting her hand on his face so he could lean down and hear the plot.

Months passed, and Y/N has been as busy as ever taking care of the women of the Harem since Imperial Concubine Yu was pregnant and the Empress, the late 1st Prince’s mother, protectively took her under her wing, while the sole Female Physician was to take care of her.

Thankfully, every plan was set in motion and time flew so fast, it was unexpected that 9 months already passed and the Concubine was ready to give birth already. Unfortunately for her, the Empress, along with the Empress Dowager, were away to pray for Buddha, and thus, the Noble Consort was now the most powerful woman in the Harem, and able to take decisions in place of the Empress.

As Y/N helped the Concubine give birth, to her shock, she realised the baby was very much yellow - But not only the little prince’s body, but his eyes as well. It caused a lot of shock and stir ups... But the unfortunate timing of arrival of the Noble Consort was enough to grab the baby from the midwife’s hands and toss is carelessly to the eunuchs who was digging a hole in the backyard of the Empress’s palace, to bury the infant alive, while the poor Concubine mother was frantically trying to escape the grasp of the eunuch keeping her away so she could rescue her baby.

But it was in vain, and no matter how much the mother begged, the Consort was absolutely ruthless. She was digging into the dirt, trying to rescue her child, but all of the Empress’s maids were uselessly staring, frightened and very much afraid for their lives.

Smartly, Y/N went inside the Empress’s palace and took her seal - As she ran back to the scene of the crime and yelled at the Consort to end this mess.

“The golden seal of the Empress is here! Enough of this mess! Yes, the infant has golden eyes, but the truth is, this might just be a medical problem, and we cannot know for sure if it is not investigated! Under such context, we must wait for Her Highness the Empress to make the decision! Noble Consort, I have begged you again and again to cease your actions, but I have no other way of stopping you. Seeing this golden seal is like seeing Her Highness the Empress herself, whether the 17th Prince is indeed sick, and how Noble Lady Yu should be dealt with, we must all wait for the decree of Her Highness the Empress. Any other person isn’t allowed to take any arbitrary action!” as Y/N glared angrily at the Noble Consort, showing off the Imperial Box that was hiding the Empress’s seal, the well known voice of the Eunuch announcing his Majesty’s arrival resounded through the place. “What happened?” the Emperor asked, followed by the 2nd, 3rd and 4th Princes. “Greeting His Majesty. Your Majesty, the little prince was born with golden pupils. His whole body is yellow. The Empress isn’t in the palace. I’m enforcing the palace law on her behalf. I was just about to punish the mother and child, but who knew that the servants of Changchun Palace would publicly stop me.” the Consort threw a shady look at the Physician. “Your Majesty, I dare not hinder Noble Consort in implementing the law. It’s just that Her Highness the Empress repeatedly instructed that we all must protect Noble Lady Yu. Before the Empress returns, no one is allowed to make punishments without permission. Moreover, whether the little prince is indeed sick or not, as a Physician, I must advise everyone not to make conclusions based solely on what we see. There was no time for me, or any of my colleagues to check the health of the little prince, therefor, this may all just be an unfortunate misunderstanding, not a bad omen. The action of Her Highness the Noble Consort is too hasty.” Y/N confidently explained the problem for the Emperor. “You wench, how dare you speak ill of my mother?!” the new Crown Prince, the 2nd Prince, rushed forward to slap the girl’s face angrily. “Father, there is nothing impossible in this vast world. I, who has been studying various Western practices would know that what we may consider impossible or strange, other would deem normal, and vice versa. It may just be as the Female Physician says - That the 17th Prince’s golden pupils are just because of some strange illness that, if treated, will disappear.” the 3rd Prince stuck up to the girl. “Your Majesty, my child surely has some weird illness! I beg you, Your Majesty, I beg you to immediately have him treated.” the mother’s pleas melted the Emperor’s heart. “Li Yu.” the Emperor called out his head eunuch. “Call the Imperial Medical College for a consult. And find out if Physician Y/N’s father returned from his trip abroad.” and thus, the Emperor called everyone in cause once again to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to hear the testimonies and make a decision.

Two elder doctors came inside the Palace and reported their explanations to the Emperor, while the poor, desperate mother was thrown out of the room so she could calm down and stop shrieking.

“I’ve seen a lot of babies with yellowish faces, but I’ve never seen a case where the pupils are also golden yellow.” one of them explained. “Is there no way to cure him?” Yin Zhen asked the Physicians. “This is not an illness, so there is no way to cure it. There is no such thing as a child with golden pupils in this world.” Physician Zhang answered adamant. “I know Your Majesty is unwilling to do it, but if we don’t resolve it today, if the sun rises tomorrow, the news that a Noble Lady of the Forbidden Palace has given birth to a child with golden pupils will spread to the empire as if it has wings. I fear that people will be in panic and it will be hard to handle the consequences. Hence, I hardened my heart, all for Your Majesty’s sake, for the Qing Empire. Even if everyone will blame me for it, I won’t mind. Your Majesty, why are you still hesitating?” the dead silence that followed was, as if on cue, disturbed by the baby’s cries. With a hurried smile, Y/N hurried to take the baby in her arms and kneel in front of the Emperor. “Your Majesty, look! Although the little prince is yellowish all over, his cry is very strong! Your Majesty, he is a live person and he is connected with Your Majesty by blood! How could you kill him so easily?!” Y/N spoke quickly, hoping to appeal to the Emperor’s soft heart strings. “Isn’t the Empress to kind? Indulging a mere physician to act like this? When your masters are talking, how could you interfere?!” the Noble Consort harshly reprimanded the girl. “I recognize my mistakes, however, as a Physician myself, while it is true that I do not know everything in this world, I can also say that I had my fair share of travelling, albeit, not as much as my father. The yellowing of the body may as well be jaundice, especially if we take into account the severity of the colour. In some texts that I have read, it is said that, on rare occasions, if the jaundice is severe, it may even affect the colour of the eyes. Your Majesty, I have no reason to work against anyone. My work is to heal people, which is why I am fighting so hard to save this child - Not only because he is Your Majesty’s child, but because all lives must be treasured and treated with great importance. If this child is sick and I can cure him, than I have done my purpose in life.” the girl gritted her teeth, trying to control herself. “Father, can’t you see you’ve been indulging this wench for far too long? You give a common wench a helping hand, and now look how unruly and disruptive she is! Speaking back to her superiors! Shameless!” the Crown Prince growled at the girl who was incriminating his mother. “Father, if I may - As Physician Y/N said, all of our Imperial Physicians have been working only inside the palace for so long. If a strange illness occurs, they may have no knowledge of that, perhaps even outside of the usual textbooks. If I understood correctly, Y/N father has returned to the palace just yesterday, perhaps his opinion will be of use, should this simply be a case of misdiagnosis.” the 4th Prince quickly defended her. “Nonesense! Could a distinguished Imperial Physician of the Imperial Medical College have less knowledge and experience than a common maid like you with no proper training or education?” Physician Zhang scoffed at her. “Your Majesty, although I’m well-versed in children’s illnesses, there is nothing truly impossible in this vast world. Maybe there are still a lot of strange illnesses that I’ve never had a chance to be in contact with. Many Physicians tried to get rid of the plague, but only Physician Liyue was able to do it, a common man from outside the Palace with no former education. Just because we haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it can’t exist.” Physician Yang spoke modestly. “Physician Yang, are you old and muddled?! A matter that you yourself isn’t sure of, you dare report it to His Majesty?! If a problem indeed occurs, a natural calamity or a human-made disaster, can you bare the crime? No. Your Majesty, this concerns the fortune of the Qing Empire. You mustn’t be soft-hearted.” the Noble Consort quickly responded as harsh as ever.

However, just as she said that, Y/N’s father clumsily stepped inside the room and knelt next to his daughter, greeting the Emperor who, in haste, told him to check the child.

In doing so, he merely smiled and said the same diagnosis as his daughter did.

Jaundice.

“Can’t be. Not like I haven’t seen jaundice in children before.” Physician Zhang refuted immediately. “That’s because you are lacking in knowledge. Your Majesty, this jaundice, even if it’s not treated, the little prince would recover within 7 days. This illness is pathological and related to the bile of the expectant mother. It is usually connected with the pregnant mother having too much accumulation of bile.” the father explained. “Your daughter gave the same diagnosis.” the Emperor muttered. “Can it be cured?” “Your Majesty, don’t worry. If I prescribe a formula to reduce the jaundice, in less than 2 weeks, the 17th prince’s jaundice will subside.” and thus, the Emperor ordered to have the child be treated with care...And the Consort changed sides as much as her face changed instantly.

And thus, the Emperor forgave the Consort and had this matter be banned from being talked of...Until the 4th Prince spoke up.

“Father, before we leave, I had urgent news to speak to you about, and they concern the Noble Consort.” the Prince left his father’s side and stepped in front of him, next to Y/N. “Is this about your brother’s death?” the Emperor’s face became grim as soon as he saw the nod of the prince’s head. “Very well, speak.” “Su Peisheng, have the body brought in.” the Prince ordered. “Noble Consort, you are not afraid when you kill a man, so why are you afraid when you see a corpse?” the Prince asked, simply, as he took off the sheet to show off the man’s face. “Do you not recognise him? Or perhaps, your son does?” the Prince interrogated the indignant woman. “What are your implications, Yin Zhen?!” the Crown Prince stomped in front of his brother. “Your Mayesty, this is the Mongolian chef from the Imperial Kitchen. While he is also the one who cooked food for Noble Lady Yu, he is also the one who prepared the daily Mongolian treat that the 1st Prince enjoyed so much.” Yin Zhen spoke up confidently. “That’s right... Your Majesty, I have taken care of Noble Lady Yu since the beginning of her pregnancy, and pretty early on, Noble Lady Yu was gifted Mongolian scones from her hometown. She loved them so much, I imagine she ate quite a lot. She said she had no idea there was a Mongolian chef in the Palace and she was incredibly happy to see that she could eat her home food after so long. She would eat three pieces every day - At least that’s what I saw, if she ate more when I wasn’t supervising her, I cannot know.” the Physician girl explained as she stood up, tall and ready for action. “Your Majesty, I had these scones be brought here as well.” the 4th Prince spoke and a scone was given to Y/N’s father. “Do you know what they are made of?” her father asked as he took a bite. “I believe milk was added to the dough, or ghee to the skin. She also ate assorted confectionary to replace staple food.” Y/N told her father. “Yes, I understand. Your Majesty, the child contracted jaundice mostly because the mother’s body is moist and hot, so the bile gets accumulated. I usually advise pregnant women to watch their food intake and not to eat too much sweet, hot and unpleasant smelling food, to prevent damage to the spleen and stomach.” Physician Liyue explained. “Ah, I understand. I didn’t give it much thought because Mongolian women are used to eating these things, but since she’s been away from home for so long, her body adjusted to our food, so naturally, getting a large intake of food from home again made her body react as ours would.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “Very well, so we have found out the truth behind the Prince’s illness. Now, Yin Zhen, tell me about the body. Who killed him.” the Emperor urged his son to speak. “We just have to look at who wanted the 17th Prince buried alive the most and we will know. And on who benefits the most in having our 1st Prince brother killed.” Yin Zhen explained. “That man is dead, brother. On what bases are you accusing me and my mother?” the Crown Prince sneered at his younger brother. “Your Majesty, the 17th Prince was just born, he is just an innocent child. Why would anyone want him dead? Unless... Someone didn’t want him to be born safely to begin with. Carefully thinking about it, since Noble Lady Yu got pregnant, Her Highness the Noble Consort has repeatedly made things difficult for her. First, using her dog to cause her trauma at the Imperial Gardens, and then repeating the same feat at the Lychee banquet organized by Her Highness the Empress. When Noble Lady Yu gave birth, the first person to charge in Changchun Palace was also Her Highness the Noble Consort. She insisted on having the 17th Prince buried alive. To say that this matter has nothing to do with her, it’s really hard for anyone to believe that.” Y/N accused the Consort, only to be, once again, slapped by her son. “Father, this is a conspiracy, don’t listen to the lies of this servant! It is a plot made to frame me and my Royal Mother!” the Crown Prince desperately tried to defend himself. “Father, if this is a conspiracy, why then everyone else asked for a Physician to be brought and inspect the 17th Prince’s condition, while only the Noble Consort alone was so adamant in killing the child?” Yin Zhen struck again. “Not to mention, even when Noble Lady Yu went up to her to stop her, she didn’t spare her. Instead, she ordered her to be killed along with the child. If she truly had no intention to kill, why was she so hasty and resolute?” Y/N chimed in quickly. “Your Majesty, you cannot sentence myself or the Crown Prince merely just based on a corpse and some speculations! This person is dead, who knew if someone else forced him to kill himself as to frame me and my son?” the Noble Consort shrieked desperately. “Father, when I sent my men to the Imperial Kitchen, they discovered one letter written in blood and 20 taels of gold. It shows that this person had sensed that something bad would happen to him. Father, look for yourself at the evidence left behind.” and thus, the eunuch brought forth a messy letter and the Prince showed it to the Emperor -” 'The person who will silence me will surely be the Crown Prince’ - And with this, father, we found a small pouch of Ricin laying on top of it. It means that the culprits behind these two crimes that we thought unrelated are, in fact, mother and son.” the 4th prince explained, picking up the pouch as well. “Wh-What?! What is this madness? I would ever use such a stupid servant to kill my brother!” the Crown Prince yelled out, but it was in vain. “Not only that, testimonies from the Office of Punishments came out. The men from the Imperial Kitchens that were involved in either of these crimes, all ratted out their mastermind and all point out towards either Noble Consort or the 2nd Prince.” the Prince continued, and the atmosphere in the place was harder and harder to bear. “Your Majesty! Your Majesty, it really wasn’t like this! I really didn’t know! I’m being framed! Framed! Me... My son...! We’re being framed!” the Consort tried to beg, plea and weep, but nothing worked. “ENOUGH! I don’t want to hear any more explanations from you. You killed my beloved son out of greed, just for you to become the next Crown Prince. I have overlooked so many of your mistakes and evidence of a possible coup... You were already the Crown Prince, what more did you want?! Shameless, both of you! Men, take them away! Both of them shall be thrown into the Cold Palace until further notice!” the Emperor’s rage seethed fear into everyone, as they bid his order, uncaring of the two’s desperate pleas. “Yin Zhen, you did well. Although a tragic truth, I was expecting this. As the matter of a new Crown Prince has to be instilled, I will make the final Imperial Edict tomorrow... However, you must know that you are the chosen one. I only wish that you do not act as carelessly and shamelessly as your brother did.” the Emperor sighed, feeling older than ever. “Father...I...! Your Majesty, you are magnanimous, I do not know how to thank you.” the Prince kowotowed to the ground, only to hear a weak chuckle from his father. “Rise, no need for that. Physician Y/N, you and your father once again saved us with your vast knowledge and expertise. I shall grant you both the title of Noble Officials of the Third Rank and shall enjoy all the benefits and luxuries that come with it. You have served me well and I am sure you will continue to do so in the future as well. You are all dismissed.” the Emperor said as everyone bowed to greet him off. “That worked better than expected.” the Prince smirked, looking down at the stunned girl. “Am I a genius or what?” she spoke breathlessly before starting to laugh in glee. “Dear, I have no idea what silly thing you plotted while I was away, but... I have to say, you pulled quite the stunt.” her father patted her hair lovingly. “I suppose once in a while I do like to have some dangerous fun, huh? Good thing I have two Royal Helping Hands to take me out of the water should I suddenly forget to swim.” she grinned carelessly, only for her father to shake her head, smiling. “Just be careful. Although... I am sure you will be protected. I will take my leave now.” and with a small bow, the left the three alone. “Was any of that true?” the 3rd Prince eyed the two carefully. “Well... She really did want to kill the baby by burying it alive. The rest was... Induced or fabricated. But nobody has to know, right? It’s all our dirty little secret.” the girl winked at him and, taking the 4th Prince’s hand, pulled him outside. “How does it feel being a Noble Lady?” the Prince chuckled, pulling her close to his chest and smiling warmly. “None the wiser.” she snorted in amusement. “Honestly, Yin Zhen, it’s just a title. It’s not like anyone is going to care in any way. I am still going to be just a common girl with no right to stay anywhere close to you. Besides, you know as well as I do that, in the very small chance that the Emperor does accidentally impregnate a common maid and he wives her, she is still going to be treated poorly and will be bound to the Back Palace alone. You know as well as I do that nobody is allowed to enter the Back Palace so freely. I don’t want any of that.” she spoke, cautiously. “If I am going to be the Emperor, that mean the whole China is going to be mine. It doesn’t matter which woman is my Empress, as long as all the other concubines are there for political reasons. All they care about is wealth, fame and luxuries for their families, but none care for me the way you do. You saved me from drowning when you had no idea who I was, and you rejected any gift I gave you that wasn’t useful for your education. I know you don’t want to be pretentious or have me think that you love me solely for luxuries but that does not mean I should be forbidden from pampering you whenever I feel like it. Just accept it. I do not want any other woman to stay in the Empress’s throne besides me other than you. Don’t deny me that, Y/N.” he cupped her face, making her look up at him, his eyes tender and filled with love. “I can’t do it, Yin Zhen. I can’t. I can’t let you damage your image. You will be the best Emperor China’s ever had, you cannot have a common peasant woman be the Mother of the Nation. You will found a woman to genuinely love you and care for you as much as I do, and she will be worthy of you, and of noble blood... And you will forget about me, and I will no longer inconvenience you. You will be just fine without me, Yin Zhen.” her eyes gleaming, close to tears, as she spoke those painful words, but the prince had none of that. “I will have none of that modesty and selflessness of yours. Keep that to yourself. I am going to be the Emperor. The Eye of Heaven. If I cannot even choose the woman I love to be my Empress, than what’s the point in being diligent in everything else? No matter how hard working you are, at the end of the day, you need to have clarify and peace from your confidante, and for me, that is you. I will hear no more of your excuses, I will solve all of them. In fact, I know just how you can get the ultimate approval from my father, as if everything you’ve done so far over the years hasn’t been enough. In a month, the palace will hold a banquet for the Princess of Western Liang and her Diplomatic Corp. I trust you and you alone to accompany me to this. I know it’s not something you are used to, but I will prepare people to teach you the basic according skills needed. This is all you’re going to need to do, and it will impress Father without a doubt. Please, Y/N. Do it for me. Do it for us. I want to marry you and love you. I want to see you dressed in the most gorgeous Empress dress, to have you by my side at the coronation, to see you smile as I put accessories in your hair. I want to see you happy, and I want to see you by my side every day and every night. Screw the rules, the Emperor can do as he pleases in his private time.” the fire inside Yin Zhen’s heart seemed to reach the girl for she merely smiled and, with an unexpected turn of events, she threw her hands around his neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. “You better abide your own words, otherwise this Empress is going to drive her new hair pin into your jugular vein and have you assassinated in your sleep.” she muttered with a teasing smirk. “That’s the Y/N I love.” and with that, he pulled her into another, and yet another kiss, with as much fire, love and passion as the previous ones.

For the whole month, the girl, getting used to servants and new luxuries in her home, trained in all the skills Yin Zhen’s servants thought necessary, as to become a proper Noble Lady and, as he would always say, His Empress.

As she was practicing her walking on heels through the palace, her maid, Shi Lian, seemed to be in quite the mood for chatting, telling her that the Western Liang delegation came by just earlier that day and that they are carrying this beautiful, exotic precious unique hairpin. However, unexpectedly, a huge crowd started gathering all around the two and the people started pulling and pushing around aimlessly, creating a huge commotion, making her fall on the street. Thankfully, just as she was about to get crashed by an incoming carriage horse, she felt lifted up.

“Are you injured?” the sweet voice of the man who so heroically rescued her called out, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he protectively held her waist. “Thanks to you, I am. Are you my guardian angel or what? I can’t believe how perfectly you arrived to save me.” she put her hand to her chest, trying to calm down. “I had orders to greet the corp. You silly... It’s great fate that I’m here. I’ll bring you back and send for an Imperial Physician to look after you.” he spoke strictly, only for the curtains of the carriage to be harshly drawn away and a glaring woman to stick her head out of the window. “4th Prince, are you going to leave me and the envoys of Western Liang behind?” she scolded in an evil way. “...Yin Zhen, I am alright, I promise. Shi Lian is with me. You said it yourself, this banquet is important, you cannot leave. Go attend your business. I insist.” the girl looked him deep into his eyes, knowing that they always understood each other from their looks. “Fine. But I will leave a guard behind to escort you home. Take care, Y/N.” and thus, with one last look, he left, as Y/N could only smile at how caring and attentive her hero is.

The silly man, however, as expected, dotted so much on her that he called her own father to care for her.

“Miss, looks like 4th Prince really cares about you! Ah, before I forget, the Matron has a massage for you. This afternoon, the Princess of Western Liang will be visiting the Imperial Palace and you are designated as her retinue.” Shi Lian’s sweet and innocent smile quickly disappeared. “Oh... Great. I have to take care of a bitch. May the Heaven watch over me.” Y/N muttered as she leaned her head on her father’s shoulder. “I heard she is pretty aggressive. She’d bully maidens without excuses. She’s fearsome... Miss, you have to be more careful.” the maid held her master’s hands, looking worried at her. “Don’t worry, I can do it. If this is the last step towards success, not even all the torture Wu Zetian went through can stop me.” Y/N’s voice was low, dark and dangerous. She was like a fearsome lioness ready to strike and maul anyone approaching her cub.

The next afternoon, after dressing is soft and demure looking clothes, Y/N went to show the Princess around the Imperial Palace. The load of exotic jewelry would blow away anyone’s mind, but she wasn’t interested in anything except for the fine craftmanship and the great detail put into everything.

“Ah, it’s you who was saved by 4th Prince yesterday morning outside the palace! To think 4th Prince would ignore me because of a slave girl!” the Princess stared at her condescendingly. “I am but a humble Palace maid. Surely 4th Prince would pay his undivided attention to you, Princess.” the girl bowed respectfully in front of the Princess. “I’d love to see what you’ve got! I heard the Tea ceremony of the Great Qing is extraordinary. Blow away my mind!” the Princess ordered immediately.

Thanking Yin Zhen for having all his servants meticulously teach her every art needed, Y/N proceeded in preparing the Tea Ceremony in such an elegant and graceful manner that the Princess was greatly jealous.

“She’s just a slave girl! In what position is she compared with me? Somebody drive her away, I don’t like her!” however, just as she was throwing her tantrum, Yin Zhen’s eunuch came by to invite Y/N to the banquet.

With a smile on her face, she went back to her home to change in the outfit prepared by the 4th Prince himself, and at dusk, when the glowing sunset brought out Yin Zhen’s most handsome features, she saw him. Tiredness was painted on his face.

“Yin Zhen... You look exhausted. Will you be alright?” she asked softly, cautiously raising her hand to caress his face. “I will be, yes. I am merely worried about you... But seeing you like this lifted all my worries. You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” saying so, he caressed her hand, kissing it. “I have to look my best when standing besides the most handsome man in the world, correct?” she winked cheekily at him, and thus, they went together inside the palace where the banquet was taking place.

There were songs, and dances, and just about anything you could expect - And there, on display, the precious hairpin of Western Liang, the jewel inlaid to it glistening mesmerisingly.

Seeing her confused look, he explained that the envoys are willing to part with the hairpin as a tribute only if they pass several tests. As it was a matter o Great Qing’s reputation, His Majesty couldn’t possibly refuse.

“Three tests and the hairpin is ours? How arrogant. No matter, I’m sure we can beat them.” the girl scoffed, standing besides Yin Zhen’s seat.

The first test, as expected, was Music. Western Liang sends out an envoy adept in music. The test is rather prompt to the palace and no one is prepared for that, so no one responds. Truly, perhaps she was a master at playing Pipa, and she was beautiful too, but that was not to say some intimidation wouldn’t work on the arrogant and prideful Western Liang.

“How do you like this song, Your Highness?” the girl asked, a proud smile on her face. “Very well. Your pipa is superbly crafted.” the Emperor spoke, making the girl frown, indignant. “You only complimented the pipa. Does that mean you don’t like the song?” the girl asked, offended. “That is an understatement. Though I am not an expert, I can tell the song you played was ingenious. However, and pardon me for being blunt, your skill is quite ordinary.” the 4th Prince commented, making Y/N bite her lip to stop herself from chuckling. “This is the Number 1 ancient tune from Western Liang. Few people in Qara-Hoja can play it. The way I play it is considered sound from Heaven.” the girl was angrily gripping her pipa. “Sound from Heaven? That’s an overstatement! I might as well tell you, a song like that, any Palace maid in the Qing Empire can play.” and thus, Y/N walked forward, holding the beautiful wine pot, as if to serve the pipa player. “Any? Any maid at all? Fine, can YOU play it?” the girl asked, volcanic-like. “No really... But the song you played... I’ve been practicing it since childhood.” and thus, Y/N sat down in place of the Western Liang pipa player and played her own tune with perfect dexterity. “If a Palace Maid can play it, why am I here?” and thus, the first win was awared to the Qing Empire.

With a modest bow, Y/N went back by Yin Zhen’s side, and to the trained eye, it was obvious the both of them were radiating with pride for one another.

The second test is about Poetry. Western Liang’s envoy is rather accomplished in literature, however, no one can defeat Yin Zhen’s outstanding talent.

“Y/N, you write for me. You have beautiful calligraphy and can write fast enough. I trust you.” and thus, the two of you sit down at a table in the middle of the banquet - Yin Zhen pours out elegant line after line, as Y/N carefully writes down the love poem that, no doubt was dedicated to her. An hour elapses and neither admits defeat. No one dares to even breathe heavily, fearing they might disturb the two poets.

Despite everyone’s concentration, the ink maid’s hand trembles just enough to pour ink all over Y/N’s paper and clothes. “What’s your problem?!” Y/N gasped from shock at being covered by the black liquid. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean it!” the maid nonchalantly says as she bows to the groud. “I saw it perfectly. That maid didn’t mean it... But the maid that writes has got such a temper!” unable to say anything, Y/N looked at the Prince who allowed her to quickly go change into another outfit, just as beautiful and chosen by him, and return. That Princess was going to be roasted pork very soon. “Careless as that maid is, this one is only too stupid. They both should be punished, or that’s unfair for 4th Prince.” the evil Princess sneered. “Western Liang is nowhere near the sea, but I have a feeling the Princess of Western Liang lives by the sea.” Yin Zhen retorted immediately. “What does that mean?” the Princess asked, confused, only for Y/N to smirk at her beloved’s silver, witty tongue. To think that this Bitchy Princess would trouble herself with a sea of trivials, despite her affections for him. “Your Highness, I am willing to make up for my mistake and write down what 4th Prince just composed, not missing a single word.” and so she did, shocking the Princess with her fantastic memory and even more, her elegant calligraphy. And thus, Yin Zhen gets easily the 2nd win.

The two then needed a break and went outside, to look at the beautiful moon and feel the chilly breeze of Spring. Y/N, without a care, leaned on Yin Zhen’s, sighing content.

“I know I’m amazing, but to think some bitchy Princess would get jealous of me... That’s something else.” Y/N muttered, clinging lazily on his sleeve. “I know she has ill-intentions towards you. That maid, my men have been tracing her. She is working for the Princess to frame you.” the Prince spoke, aggravated. “Well, good for her. She couldn’t beat us. We are the true perfect match of Heaven and Earth. Nothing can keep us apart.” Y/N scoffed at the lame princess’s intentions, making the Prince chuckle. “Fearless as always. You are incredible.” he commented, simple, but effective. “Oh, you should see yourself, my darling. Do you know what the 3rd test is about?” she asked, only to see him shake his head. “Not sure yet, no. But whatever it is, I fear the Princess would want to be the one to compete against you. She’s just that petty.” the Prince explained, only for a servant to call the two inside.

Apparently, the Princess decided that the last test would be, lo’ and behold, Dancing. It was perfect. She knew just what to do.

“I am just a maid. Never have I thought I’d have the privilege to compete against Her Highness, the Princess of Western Liang.” Y/N bowed in front of the Princess gracefully, only for the Princess to sneer arrogantly. “You don’t deserve it! However... You played a part in the two previous tests. I’d like to see if you really have what it takes, or you are just borrowing help from the 4th Prince. So? You dare not?!” the Princess raised her voice aggressively. “I do have nothing that’s worth mentioning... However, I do believe that dancing should be one of my strengths. Allow me to change into the appropriate outfit for dancing and I shall show you, Your Highness.” and thus, Y/N quickly left the banquet to change into a beautiful Tang dynasty pink outfit the flowed like water around her, highlighting her featured delicately. Her hair, she had the top part in a bun, with beautiful golden hair pins decorated with agate and pearls, and wore agate earrings as well. On her face, despite the gorgeous make up, she had a half mask, outstandingly embellished with different precious gems that would sparkle brighter than the whole Western Liang.

Y/N watched the Princess dancing first - A rather basic dance, beautiful, yet, but of no fantastic feat. Despite all this, all envoys seem to think very little the little Physician girl, and even His Majesty and his Ministers seem to show little faith in her. Understandable, she thought, considering that all her life she strayed away from luxuries and feminine arts and studies.

“Do you see? Looks like you are just a slave girl to everyone! You don’t deserve the competition against me!” the Princess laughed, taunting the girl, who merely smiled. “Then, Your Highness might want to be careful... Because losing to me... It’s really mortifying.” and thus, hearing the Prince reassuring his father that she will win without a doubt, Y/N proceeded in dancing the most beautiful dance.

Lanling Prince in Battle.

Throughout the month, she has been perfecting this dance in front of Yin Zhen, and it was his favourite. Such a tragic love story, of two lovers, their hearts and souls united in life and in death, no matter what. A love story of a woman loving a man so much that she would even march to war to bring him back. A love story of a man so tormented by his wife’s death that he goes insane and destroys everything in his path.

The half mask, symbolizing the beautiful features of the man, and the beautiful face of the woman, a dance that symbolizes their feelings, their love, themselves, the fate, their life - A single dance, a single person, symbolizing two soulmates.

It was the perfect dance, and it was to no wonder that this was their favourite dance... To dance together. Although it was a dance for one person alone, Yin Zhen could never resist embracing her and dancing with her. He couldn’t resist touching her and holding her up in his graces as if she was a Goddess.

It took every ounce of strength the Prince had not to join her in the dance, but as she finished, everyone was so in awe that they forgot to breathe, only to then burst into cheerful and loud applause.

“I... Lost? No... No way... How...?” the Princess was shocked as if by lightning. Absolutely horrified that a slave girl was infinitely better than her. “Do tell me how the Prince helped me here.” Y/N smirked condescendingly at the Princess who started growling. “Y-You...! How dare you?! A stupid slave girl, speaking back to me?! You deserve to be punished!” the Princess started wagging her finger accusatory at her. “Like you wanted to punish the maid who deliberately threw ink on the poem paper, realizing that Western Liang cannot, in this world, beat the Prince’s genius? Is this what Western Liang has to do to win? Cheat and frame? How ridiculous and disappointing.” Y/N shrugged simply, walking by the 4th Prince’s side. “Your Majesty! She wants me to call white black and even sow discord between the two nations! Justice be served, Your Majesty!” the maid shrieked, pointing at Y/N, as the girl sighed, taking off the mask. “I’m the bad guy now, huh?” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I got my people, and you don’t have the right to an opinion here. You are from Western Liang.” the Prince, having made a secret investigation earlier, seemed to have enough evidence to get those two into trouble, but now enough to actually create a war. “As virtue rises one foot, vice rises ten. Prince, you are incredible. The maid was going to make you trip. If you had, no matter how beautiful you danced, there was no way you would have won. Still, you were as beautiful as ever. Congratulations, you are the reason behind Qing’s wins. I told you I know why I have faith in you completely.” he praised as he poured her a cup of wine, making her seat next to him and celebrate their win, as the Princess is taken out of the palace to receive punishment when she returns home.

And thus, Western Liang not only lose all 3 tests, but they are also completely humiliated by their Princess’s cheating, and present the hairpin, shamefully.

“Son, you earned this hairpin, I will confer it upon you!” the Emperor handed the hairpin to his son, who bowed his head as a thanks. “I thank you, Royal Father. However, may I ask for another grace? To give it to someone else?” he asked, as the Emperor laughed. “Now that I’ve given it to you, it’s totally up to you.” and thus, as Yin Zhen opens the delicately embellished box, he takes out the hair pin, walking in front of Y/N. “Come here. I promised I will be the one to put accessories in your hair. You earned this, my love.” he said as he put his hand on her waist, kissing her forehead. “U-Uh... Yin Zhen... Everyone is looking at us.” Y/N muttered bashfully, unable to look at him. “Good. I want them to know that you are my wife, and my future Empress, and that if anyone even dares to think of laying a finger on you, they are going to be brutally disposed of.” he smiled sweetly, lifting her chin up with his finger. “Very bold, doing that in front of even your Father. Very good. What a wonderful husband I have.” she chuckled lightly as she was guided outside, to watch the fireworks show. “I already told him I want to marry you. Wasn’t much he could say after today’s wonderful wins. I have to say, you are really good at making people do what you want.” Yin Zhen chuckled lightly, bringing the girl to his chest. “You know what I think? That you talk too much and that you should kiss your wife more often. How’s that sound, My Darling Emperor?” Y/N smirked like a vixen. “I love the sound of that... My Little Physician Empress.”

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

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getlostsquidward · 3 years

Text

no body, no crime

Sally McKenna x fem!reader

A/N: Based on the prompt date idea: bury the corpses of people your s/o killed together. I just twisted it a bit. Title from another Taylor song lmao

Warnings: blood, murder

Summary: The basement of Hotel Cortez was the dumping site of corpses. There should be a pile of bodies welcoming Sally’s sight, only to find it empty.

Another day, another body was dumped in the secret basement of the Cortez. Normally, Liz and Iris would be the ones to toss the dead people in the dark, mostly victims of the bloodthirsty residents of the hotel; but Sally had gone bored of ripping mattresses apart and keeping her victim inside. There was one time, after chucking a body, the frizzy-haired woman mounted herself in the little space and slipped her body downwards, like a kid in the playground slides.

Instead of little kids cheering for her when she’d gone down, it would be silence and a pile of corpses that would welcome her. The room reeks of rotten bodies and cigarette smoke, as Sally would often find solace in this rather twisted paradise. It was ironic that she would seek the company of dead people than the alive ones. The living ones would only leave her, bring her sadness more than she already feels, but the dead won’t leave her alone. As if they can.

Sally had gone back to the room through the vent again to come back for her latest victim who she hadn’t killed yet but decided to throw amongst the dead for the satisfaction of seeing the man’s remaining resolve crumble down with the sight of his company.

To her absolute surprise, he wasn’t there. Nor the rest of the bodies.

She frantically search the hallways, went back to her room to see if the man had gone there, only to find it empty. Then she rode the elevator, hoping to see him in the bar or at the lobby. He couldn’t have escaped that quickly, can he?

She found no one, save for Liz at the bar and Iris at the reception. Sally had asked both if they saw them. They didn’t.

She sat at the stool at the bar, her head resting on her hand. Liz gave her the usual and a cigarette stick. Sally had started rambling about how she found the basement empty and how she fucked up by not killing the man.

Liz only half-listened to the woman but she had an idea of where they had gone. Of who collected the bodies, but she didn’t speak.

Finishing her drink, the ghost went back to her room and plopped down the bed. She didn’t think that she would feel exhaustion even she’s dead.

Five minutes into slipping out of her headspace, she was startled by the scream coming from the vents. Certain that it was her victim, she scurried to the source of the voice.

Sally was momentarily blinded when she arrived in the room. What the hell? This place was as dark as the basement save for the neon signages on the walls but now the curtains were fully opened and the sunlight completely illuminates the room. Once she regained her sight she saw the corpses in different positions, and someone in the middle of the room… painting?

She didn’t reveal her presence yet, observing the way the stranger holds the paintbrush and waves her hand like a conductor in a symphony. She stood there for a while, stuck in a trance. The ghost had forgotten why she went there in the first place until her victim cried again. He was weak, limp body trying to crawl out of the room.

She watched as the painter huffed and sat to match their eye line. “Can you please go back to your spot? You’re dying, right? Why don’t you sit back there and wait peacefully for your death?”

He didn’t pay attention to her and continued to crawl, but stopped when he caught sight of Sally. Another sob escapes from his mouth, a cry of hopelessness. There was no way he would get out of the Cortez alive.

A smug grin was plastered on Sally's face as she feels the gratification pooling in the depths of her. No, the look on the man’s face right now was so much better than she imagined.

“Okay sweetheart, time’s up-” The woman stood up and turned, and was startled by Sally’s presence. Once she regained her composure, she reverted her attention to the man on the floor. She flipped the man’s body with ease so he was facing her.

“Consider this your lucky day, sweetheart,” she whispered with a honeyed voice, a finger trailing the man’s cheek. “You’re my 100th kill.”

She then slit the man’s throat by the sharp edge of her gloves, like the one the Countess uses. The woman had collected some blood, but instead of drinking it, she placed it in a small jar.

“I don’t consume blood. I mix them with my paint, in case you’re wondering,” she mused, the words directed to Sally.

Once she was done, she placed the materials back on her table and took off the gloves. She straightened out her dress and approached Sally, a hand outstretched.

“Hope you enjoyed the show. What’s your name?”

“Sally,” the ghost answered, eyes glassy and curious as to who this woman was. She’d never seen her before.

“Sally. I’m Y/N. Let me buy you a drink.”

You went to the bar and hugged Liz, you haven’t seen the woman for a while. Well, you haven’t let yourself be seen for a while, rather enjoying the isolation. Liz gave you and Sally a drink and excused herself.

“You’re not like them? That only means you’re a ghost too.”

“Yes, well, my sister tried to infect me but I refused. It would be hypocritical of me to say this but I’m not really fond of killing people,” you said as you stood up and went behind the bar to search for that can of beer you missed. “That’s why I just take your trash.”

Sally only chuckled about how your eyes sparked otherwise when you killed the man earlier. “Why are you here?”

“You mean how did I die?”

Sally lit your cigarette for you, and you took a puff before continuing. “James.”

Her eyebrows raised, stupefied. She didn’t speak so you let on, “I knew something that I shouldn’t have and if I relayed that information to the Countess she would leave, well, kill him. So he killed me first.”

You’d accounted how you didn’t reveal yourself at first, still overwhelmed that you were trapped in the place as the same man who killed you. When you heard that James was dead too, that’s when you showed up.

The information that you would tell your sister, how James had Valentino and his wife locked away in the same place, forbidding them to meet with the Countess and running away was in the back of your mind now, letting her find out for herself. She couldn’t possibly harm James after all. Her hatred towards him will only grow.

Babysitting your nephew Bartholomew, and sometimes the other kids were how you let time pass. Your first kill was a man who was lurking the hallways he shouldn’t be in. It was exhilarating, watching him die. The look on their faces when they realize there’s nowhere to go, that they were about to take their last breath. It’s making you feel things but limited yourself from harming just anyone. You’d rather let the bloodthirsty and other ghosts do the dirty work for you. Though sometimes you miss the tingle killing people gives you so you do it yourself, and that’s why even though you were here for a long time now, you consider a hundred a small number compared to the killings of the older residents of the Cortez made.

Sally held up her glass and clinked it with yours. “Not all can appreciate this lovely darkness. Here’s to your 100th kill.”

“Here’s to my new friend,” shooting her a wink.

“Cheers.”

“So you going back to your cave now?” your newfound friend asked, lighting another cigarette. There was a hint of sadness in her raspy voice. She was hoping you wouldn’t hide again.

“No. I found something more interesting now,” you downed the last of your drink, leaning your arms against the counter to inch closer to Sally.

Your noses were touching, and you ghost your lips against hers. “Bring another unlucky human to your room tomorrow night. I want to watch how you kill them.”

Pulling away before Sally captures your lips, you leaned towards her ear and breathed, “It’s a date.”

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #ahs hotel #american horror story #sally mckenna #hypodermic sally #hypodermic sally x reader #sally mckenna x reader #the countess #james patrick march

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catrasredemption-moved · 3 years

Note

can I ask a prompt with some ppl giving pregnant catra a hard time? (is it still okay for pregnant catra? if not then it's okay too)

Vomiting TW

Time didn’t heal all wounds.

Catra was aware of it, and she didn’t take it personally when people glared at her or made comments. She drew the line at people trying to physically hurt her, but usually at that point Adora was between her and whoever was taking a swing, and she didn’t have to worry too much.

Even ten years later, Salineas was still the worst place to go. The kingdom had recovered nicely (due in no small part to the hours of sleep Catra had sacrificed to rebuild it), but memories lasted.

Mermista’s word trumped all feelings, though, so when Catra was invited to Salineas, no one could really protest.

“I’m still not sure why we couldn’t teleport,” Glimmer grumbled. “Pretty sure the boat is worse for Catra.”

It absolutely was. Catra had spent most of the journey leaning over the edge, or resting limply against it while Melog tried to comfort her. “Are you sure she’s okay?” Bow added, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her. Adora rubbed the back of her head nervously.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I’m sure. I’m just... going to go check on her.”

She scrambled across the deck, joining Catra, who was starting to look a little green. “Maybe we should’ve just let Glimmer teleport us,” she said uncertainly. Catra shook her head furiously.

“No. No magic around the baby. Not like that.”

“Then can we at least tell Glimmer and Bow why? They’re worried.”

Catra raised her head to look blearily at their friends, who weren’t even trying to pretend they weren’t staring. “Maybe later,” she mumbled, dropping her head back against the edge. “If I survive this trip.”

They hadn’t told anyone outside of Mystacor they were trying to have a baby, and they hadn’t told anyone when they’d found out last week that Catra was pregnant. They were going to, but she was only six weeks, and they wanted to just wait a little longer, to be absolutely sure. They didn’t need pity if anything went wrong.

“We’re almost there. Just take a deep breath.”

Catra did as she was told - then groaned when the smell of salt water hit her sensitive nose. “Bad idea,” she groaned, leaning over the edge again. Adora rubbed her back pityingly.

It was a relief to finally dock, even if it took Catra an extra few minutes to collect herself and get up. They weren’t that far from the palace, but Glimmer still offered to teleport. “Nope,” Catra said, squaring her shoulders. She was not going to spend the rest of the night locked in the bathroom.

She felt a little better by the time they arrived at the ball room. It was Mermista’s birthday, which was pretty much the event of the season in Salineas. Catra was sure she would have reluctantly accepted if Catra had played sick to stay in Bright Moon, but... who was she to turn up some of the best sea food in the kingdom?

“Yeesh, I figured you guys would get here first,” a dry voice said as they walked into the already crowded room. They looked at Mermista, who was watching them with a dry smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Happy birthday!” Bow and Glimmer hugged her tight.

“Catra insisted on not teleporting for some reason so we had to take a boat-”

“What, was two hours of being sea sick better?”

“A little fresh air never killed anyone,” Catra said dismissively. Mermista rolled her eyes.

“Sure.”

Catra went straight for the food table, dragging Adora with her. “Well at least you’re feeling better,” Adora teased, squeezing Catra’s hand.

“Oh shut up-”

“She-Ra!”

Every time, without fail. Catra rolled her eyes, sighing, as Adora was waylaid by several admirers. She wasn’t about to wait - she was starving. And the baby was demanding shrimp.

And she wasn’t alone for long. Scorpia and Perfuma were already at the table, talking and snacking. “Hey Wildcat!” Scorpia said happily, scooping Catra into a hug. She winced, but smiled, patting Scorpia’s back.

“Hi Scorpia. You mind? I’m dying.”

Scorpia set her down, letting her get to the table at last so she could eat. “How was your trip?” Perfuma asked. “Bow mentioned you were taking a boat.”

“Yeah, enjoying the sights, you know.”

“Did you develop some love for the ocean?” Scorpia asked doubtfully. She’d seen Catra on boats a couple times. It never went well.

“I mean...”

Her attention was torn between Scorpia and Perfuma and the food, not to mention the din of the party. She had almost no warning before a rough hand grabbed the back of her shirt, throwing her to the ground. She landed hard, head snapping back with a crack. The world went blurry for a minute.

“-tra? ...okay?”

Perfuma’s voice drifted in and out. Catra grimaced, blinking a few times to clear her vision. Perfuma was kneeling beside her, trying to help her sit up, while Scorpia held Adora back from punching out the chef who had decided it was a crime for Catra to be enjoying herself in the kingdom she had destroyed. She sat up, grimacing, one arm crossing her stomach. Six weeks. She wasn’t fragile by any means, not like she would be in about six months, but that didn’t mean she could just be pushed around and thrown into floors, either.

“Hey!”

Mermista’s voice reverberated in Catra’s head. The princess cut through the crowd that had gathered, furious. “Adora, stop trying to murder my chef and take care of your wife. Sea Hawk, put him in cell.” The chef started to protest. “You don’t think you get to assault someone at my party and get away with it, do you?”

Sea Hawk appeared to take the chef away; there was no further protest. Adora knelt on Catra’s other side, gently sliding an arm across her back to support her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Catra took a few deep breaths. Her head hurt, but she was fine. The baby was probably fine. It wasn’t even really a baby at this point, just a bunch of magically bound cells trying to make a baby, it would suck if something happened, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It wasn’t like Catra hadn’t already taken to talking to her stomach when she was alone, or poking it experimentally, thrilled about the little life growing inside, or-

“Catra? Catra, hey.”

She was shaking, her breath coming a bit too fast. Adora had a hand on her cheek, trying to get her attention. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Does something-”

The world turned over in a sickeningly familiar way. Catra pressed her face into Adora’s shoulder, groaning, as soon as they were settled wherever Glimmer had taken them.

“Glimmer-”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to get you both out of there.” Glimmer sounded nervous. Catra wanted to look at her, but her eyes were still squeezed shut and she had no intention of opening them. “I’ll... I’ll be right back.”

She teleported away. “There’s a bed,” Adora said quietly. “Do you feel okay moving?”

“Sure,” Catra muttered through gritted teeth. That turned out to be a lie; she forced her eyes open as she was moved, and the world was spinning. Nope. “Adora-”

A small trash bin was forced into her hands before she could finish the sentence. And of course Glimmer chose that moment to return with Bow, Scorpia, Perfuma, and Mermista.

“Should... I get a doctor or something?”

Adora rubbed Catra’s back as she heaved. “No... maybe? I’d rather take her to Mystacor-”

“For a head injury?”

Catra cracked an eye open to look at Adora, who was watching her uncertainly. She nodded miserably, returning her attention to breathing and trying not to freak out. So much for keeping it to themselves.

“Well, she’s um... she’s pregnant, actually.”

Dead silence followed the words.

“I’ll kill him,” Glimmer declared.

“I’ll help.” That was Scorpia, surprisingly.

“Okay, okay,” Bow cut in. “Maybe murder isn’t the right idea...”

“Let’s not out-rule it completely,” Mermista said darkly.

“It’s probably fine,” Catra mumbled, setting the trash bin aside. “I’ve been sick for like, two weeks, this isn’t exactly a new development.”

“Seeing a healer might still be a good idea,” Perfuma pointed out. “When you’re ready to move.”

“Is this why you didn’t want to teleport?” Glimmer asked. Catra ducked her head, refusing to answer. “Why don’t I go to Mystacor and get someone, and if they say you’re okay, I can take you home - that has to be better than suffering on the boat.”

“I didn’t think the boat would be that bad.” Catra sighed. “You guys don’t have to stand there and stare at me. Go back to the party - I mean, yes, get a healer first.” She’d feel better just confirming that everything was okay. “But it’s stupid to stand around staring at me.”

“It’s not stupid to want to make sure you’re all right,” Bow said. “And what about our future niece or nephew?”

“Why don’t you stay, Glimmer goes to Mystacor, and the rest of us can go back downstairs,” Perfuma suggested. She had spent enough time with Catra to know when she was starting to get overwhelmed. Scorpia started to protest, but stopped when Perfuma placed a hand on her claw.

“I’ll send up a staff member in case you need anything,” Mermista compromised. Catra nodded, since it didn’t seem like she had much of a choice. She knew her friends cared, though.

Everyone left, and Bow immediately joined them on the bed. “I didn’t know you guys were trying to have a baby.” He was doing a very good job at restraining his excitement and not shouting. “How far along are you? Do you have thoughts about names?” He gasped. “Will they have little cat ears?”

Catra smiled slightly, dropping her head to rest on Adora’s shoulder and letting Adora handle the questions. She knew her wife had been dying to talk about the baby with someone besides Catra, and it was nice to listen to their excited chatter fill the silence.

(Everything was in fact fine, save for the slight head injury, and the healer assured them that it was perfectly safe to teleport with Glimmer. Catra vehemently disagreed with that last part, but that was an on-going debate.)

#MAN that got long I'm sorry #anyway um #here?#pregnant catra #askbox fic #Mystery Person #Sam Answers

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chordwrites · 3 years

Text

The Healer

Prologue (not necessary to read first but provides some context)

Healer hid, watching Hero approach the beaten and unmoving Villain. If they were dead, all of Healer’s efforts would be meaningless.

Usually, Healer would wait until the battle was over to attend to the injured, or would find a moment when the fighting parties were separated to offer a quick heal. But Hero and Villain had never separated long enough for Healer to intervene, and Healer doubted that this hero would grant Villain any respite.

Healer pulled a few fireworks out of their satchel. They snuck a few building away—close enough for Hero to hear it but far enough to give Healer a few moments with Villain while Hero investigated. Healer muttered a small prayer, to who, they did not know. If this didn’t work, they’d be all out of ideas for helping Villain.

Quickly, they lit the fireworks, aiming them low, but away from any buildings that might hold occupants. The dumpsters should work nicely, and if a fire started, Hero would be able to put it out before it affected any citizens.

If their plan was successful, that is.

Healer raced towards the site of the battle, the explosion of fireworks sounding a few paces behind them and the impact against the dumpster augmenting the noise. They stuck to the shadows, and sighed in relief when they found Villain alone.

Healer crept forward, dread building as they searched for any sign that Villain was still breathing. They rested their hands on Villain’s chest, smiling a little when Villain’s chest rose and fell against their palms.

Healer concentrated, focusing warm energy out of their hands and into Villain, willing their body to be whole again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hero asked from behind them.

Healer jumped, but maintained the energy coursing into Villain.

“Healing them,” they said weakly.

“Why?”

“Because I can, and they needed it.” Their motivation had never been complex. If you have the ability to help others, you do it.

Hero scoffed. “Don’t you know the things they’ve done? You’re healing a monster.”

“I... not the specifics.” Healer had tried to stay away from the news and media after they’d realized that the heroes could be just as cruel as the villains.

“You’re young, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. They’ve murdered hundreds, and the total casualty tally is even larger. Is that kind of person worth saving?” Hero paused, either waiting for a response or allowing Healer to soak in their question. Regardless, Healer chose not to respond, instead staring intently at their hands and the warm glow that emanated from them. “We always need new heroes, and your drive to help others is admirable. But what you’re doing now isn’t justice.” Hero pointed at Villain. “Helping someone like them isn’t justice.”

Healer’s hands shook. “I don’t care about justice. I don’t think I have the right to decide who deserves to be saved and who doesn’t.” God, healing was draining enough without debating personal morals with another super.

“Then listen to me, I’m saying this one doesn’t.”

The arrogance. “I don’t think you should be able to make that decision either,” Healer said.

The following silence sent a shiver down Healer’s spine. Dammit, why couldn’t they heal any faster? “If you save them, all the death they wrought from here on out will be your responsibility to bear.”

Healer's power continued to pour into Villain. That was a responsibility that Healer accepted, though they did not bear it well. It kept them up at night, and the accompanying depression had worried their mother to no end for the year or so they’d been doing this. They didn’t want Villain to hurt anyone, but they didn’t want to see them killed either. Healer didn’t know what was right, but they knew Hero’s way wasn’t it. It couldn’t be. They'd decided it was easier to forget about right and wrong, and just focus on healing anyone they could. Healer wouldn’t discriminate between the injured and dying.

Maybe it was too idealistic. Or maybe the adults weren’t idealistic enough.

Hero laughed quietly—a dark, intimidating sound. “If you’re helping the likes of a villain, you might as well be one yourself.”

The sudden rustle of movement startled Healer out of their concentration. They spun around, and Hero was in front of them, fist swinging. Healer braced themself.

Arms wrapped around Healer from behind pulling them back just before Hero’s fist connected. The arms grasped Healer’s waist and lifted them into a firefighter’s carry over Villain’s shoulder. Villain dodged a few more swings, keeping Healer secure despite the fast pace of the encounter.

Then, Villain ran, weaving between buildings and through alleyways as Hero kept on their trail. Not knowing what else to do, Healer clutched the back of Villain’s super suit.

Though Hero was fast, Villain seemed to know exactly where to go to confuse them, slinking into the shadows and maneuvering through the most obstructed areas. A few minutes into the chase, Villain halted, causing Healer’s face to slam into Villain’s back. The two ducked into a crevice between two buildings that Healer wouldn’t have noticed if Villain hadn’t been directing them into it.

The two sat in loud, breathy silence for a long time. Villain had an arm wrapped around Healer, and Healer clung to that arm like a lifeline. They didn’t understand what just happened. They were just helping people, weren’t they? How could that warrant a death sentence from a hero who was sworn to protect them?

And with Hero’s strength, that strike would have been one.

Healer didn’t know how long they waited, but at last, Villain let go of them and stepped out of their hiding spot, Healer not far behind.

Finally getting a good look at Villain, Healer scanned them for injuries. Though they’d managed to close up the vital ones, Villain still looked worse for wear, bruises covering almost every inch of visible skin, and blood soaking through most of their suit.

Villain stared at Healer, and Healer thought they saw a stern expression buried beneath the mask and mountain of bruises.

“I... I can heal up the rest of your wounds for you,” Healer said.

Villain shook their head. Healer wanted to protest, but as they stepped forward, their legs shook and their head spun. Even if Villain had accepted their offer, it was doubtful that Healer would have been able to follow through.

Villain tapped their throat, drawing Healer’s attention, then mouthed something. Thank you.

“No problem,” Healer said, their voice cracking a little. “Thank you, too, for getting me out of there.” For saving my life, Healer thought.

Villain nodded and mouthed something else, but as much as Healer concentrated, they couldn’t decipher the meaning. Villain shook their head again, this time more so at themself than at Healer, and pulled out a small pocket notebook and a pen. They scribbled something down.

Where do you need to go? I’ll make sure you get there.

“Oh, that’s alright. You don’t have to do that.” As much as they wanted to help heroes, villains, and civilians alike, they didn’t really need anyone to know where they lived.

Villain stared at them.

“You can go back to your home or base. I can make it back on my own.”

Villain’s eyes didn’t waver.

“It... it’s in walking distance if you want to walk with me, but I can’t have anyone in full super gear near my home.”

Villain nodded and pulled off their mask, right in front of Healer. Healer blanched at the utter disregard for secret identities. But they didn’t sense any ill will or ulterior motive, so they went behind a trash can and began changing into their own civilian clothes as Villain did the same. When they stepped back out, Villain made a point of not looking at Healer. Maybe they were trying to respect their identity, not that it would help much if Villain knew where they lived.

Healer walked home and Villain trailed behind them like some sort of underworld bodyguard. Every time Healer glanced back, Villain was scanning their surroundings with an intense alertness. Healer couldn’t blame them, they were keeping an eye out for any sign of Hero, themself. The thought of them sent their stomach into somersaults. Yet, there was something comforting about Villain trailing behind them.

Their anxiety mixed with guilt as they remembered Hero’s words. What did it say about them that a mass murderer trailing behind them was comforting. Wait, were they putting their mom in danger by letting Villain come with them?

But it was too late to do anything about it, now. They were already on Healer’s block. “This is it,” they said, and Villain nodded. Healer noted that Villain still wasn’t looking at their face, their eyes instead pointed at the ground with occasional flickers towards the adjacent streets. “Thank you,” Healer said, with an awkward laugh. “I was really scared back there.”

Villain nodded again, and Healer started closing the distance to their apartment. The next time they turned around, Villain was gone.

#writing #heroes and villains #kind villain #evil hero #snippet #flash fiction #healer #the healer #young hero

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 13*

Did I inadvertently make Sonny a supervillain? Maybe.

Chapter 12

Chapter 14

HAHAHA SOOOOO funny story....if you saw the "preview" post, turns out I didn't even get that far written down. My bad!

I really did want to, and I was almost there, but it's gotta go to fifteen and too much story in chapters won't leave enough to stretch! I'm sorry!!!

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

-----

Meanwhile

At the hospital Sonny walked into your room where you were talking with the doctor. The doctor acknowledged Sonny when he came in.

“As I was telling Miss Y/L/N, she unfortunately is going to need a liver transplant,” He looked at both of you grimly. “And unfortunately because of her years of alcohol abuse and history with addiction, she won't be that high on the transplant list. I'm uncertain if she'll even get one,”

“Oh god…” Sonny whispered, looking at you. You had tears in your eyes, still in shock over what the doctor was actually saying. Your brain couldn't really process it; and even if it could, you weren't really sure that you cared if you lived or died at this point seeing as you lost the one good thing in your life.

“Is there any way that I could donate part of my liver?” Sonny asked.

“Well that's what I was going to talk to you about Mr. Carisi,” the doctor said. “If you have any friends or family members that you think would be a good match and would like to get tested to donate their liver; I would suggest doing so as soon as possible. Usually immediate family members are the best match,”

“Yeah of course,” Sonny nodded. But in his mind he was thinking he didn't know if he could convince any of his and your family members to donate part of their liver. Changing their lives completely for a girl that had been nothing but trouble since she came to live with them. He could at least get tested though.

He walked over to you as the doctor walked out and held your hand. “How are you doing sunshine?” He asked.

“I.. I think I need a minute to process all of this, Sonny. Can you please...leave me alone?” you said softly, trying not to cry.

“Yeah sure, whatever you want,” He nodded softly and walked out of the room.

He instantly felt the guilt in remembering what he had told Rafael yesterday. He did promise him that if something went wrong with you he would call him but he also didn't want him to get any closer. But his guilt overruled his worry, so he texted him:

“Y/N is going to need a liver transplant, if you want to get tested,”.

------------

Rafael immediately showed up at the hospital where Sonny met him in the waiting room.

“Where is she?” Rafael was practically huffing and puffing, he ran so fast when he got Sonny’s text.

“Hey, slow your roll there counselor,” Sonny put a hand up. “I just asked you to come down here and get tested to see if you wanted to donate to her,”

“For what? To prove how much I care about her to you? Is that some kind of test?” Rafael clenched his fists.

“Maybe.. I don't know... I was just desperate Rafael, okay? And I promised you I would,” Sonny yelled.

“Okay well I want to see her first," Rafael demanded.

“No way,” Sonny protested. “First you get tested. And then if you’re a match, I'll let you see her,”

“What?” Rafael blinked. “You’re insane--”

“So you're just gonna refuse to potentially save my cousin’s life, just because I won't let her see you. Is that really loving her at all?” Sonny pointed out

“...All right, show me where to go,” he sighed, defeated. Rafael hated that he was right, but he was. After a few minutes Rafael was done getting his blood work and he returned to the waiting room where Sonny was.

“Have you gotten tested yet?” Rafael asked.

“Obviously, I was the first one to do it, Barba.” Sonny replied in an obvious tone.

“And…?”

“...And I'm not a match,'' he sighed.

“And the rest of your family?” Rafael asked.

“....Most of them haven't gotten back to me yet,” Sonny admitted in a small voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Rafael asked, astonished.

“Well I mean...I told you my family's history with Y/N,” Sonny rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“But she's dying!” Rafael practically screamed. “You're telling me not one person in your family has a fucking heart to at least try and help their niece/cousin out when they're dying?!”

“Look you have no room to judge my family, okay Barba?!” Sonny argued back. “You don’t know what we’ve all been through--”

“What YOU’VE been through?!” Rafael was now full out screaming, he was livid. “God the whole Carisi clan is a bunch of martyrs, aren’t they? Everything happens to them, they never do anything wrong,”

“Hey FUCK OFF, Barba,” Sonny shoved Rafael, getting heated himself. If there was one thing you didn’t do, it was to insult his family.

“Whatever,” Rafael calmed himself, looking around at the shocked spectators. “How long does it take to find out if you're a match or not?

“Actually just like a few minutes they run it through a computer and see if your blood type matches up with hers.” Sonny answered softly, hoping the onlookers would go back to their business. As if on cue the doctor returns to the waiting room with a piece of paper.

“Well Mr. Barba, it looks like you're a perfect match to Y/N’s blood type,” He smiled as he handed Rafael the piece of paper.

“As if there was any doubt,” Rafael smiled as he read the results. He knew you were a perfect match from the moment you met, now he had physical proof of it.

“Great…” Sonny muttered.

“Alright, so here’s your proof,” Rafael presented the paper to Sonny. “We are perfectly matched. Now let me see her,”

“...Nah I still think you need to actually do it, Barba,” Sonny denied him again.

“Excuse me?” Rafael was absolutely floored. He couldn’t believe Sonny was making him jump through this many hoops just to see you. He knew he was against you being together, but this was above and beyond.

“Look Barba, we don’t know if Y/N’s body is gonna take to your liver. And she could die on the table. There are so many more moving parts and I don’t want you to start getting your hopes up or getting closer to her and then she dies on you. And-- And I don’t want her to get closer to you if she’s dying because then she’ll just be angry at God.”

“You’re fucking delusional you know that Carisi?” Rafael spat. “This isn’t about sparing my feelings, or even Y/N’s. It’s about you, and what you want to do. And you want to keep us apart-- and I’ll bet money it’s not for all the ‘noble’ reasons you proclaim either,”

“Oh for Christ’s sake Barba,” Sonny laughed. “You cannot possibly think this is just because of some crush I have on you--”

“Oh I absolutely do, Carisi,” He stepped towards him. Sonny was substantially taller than Rafael, but he intimidated Sonny nonetheless with his aggressive stance and personality.

“Well it’s not,” Sonny stepped forward as well, towering over Rafael this time. “And regardless of the reason, you’re still getting anywhere near her until I say so,” He had never stood up to Rafael like this, and Rafael didn’t like it.

“...I’m only doing this for her, know that,” Rafael growled as he went to set up an operation time.

-------------

Meanwhile, Sonny went to tell you the good news. He practically sprinted down the hall and swung your door open with a huge happy smile.

“What in God’s name did they give you, and where can I get one?” You teased him.

“Guess what Sunshine,” He beamed at you. [pun intended]

“What’s that?”

“Turns out I’m a match for you!” He threw his arms around you. “Thank God, I was so scared I was gonna lose you,”

“Oh, really?” You gave him a small smile. “That’s great,”

“Y’know you don’t sound as excited as a person who just found out they’re NOT dying, Sunshine!”

“Oh no,” You nodded while trying to smile wider. “I’m ecstatic,”

“Well good, because I kinda like you and want to keep you around a little longer,” He put you in a soft headlock and noogie’d your hair.

“Ha ha,” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “So, are you gonna go set this whole thing up or what?”

“Oh yeah,” Sonny remembered Rafael was still in the vicinity. “Yeah of course Sunshine, I’ll go tell the doctor now, yeah?” He started to get up off your bed.

“Sonny,” You put a hand on him before he stood up.

“Yeah, Sunshine?”

“Have you..” You picked nervously at your blanket. “Um, have you...talked to Rafael?”

“Ah,” Sonny felt a pang of guilt, knowing at that very moment Rafael was signing his liver away to save your life, and you thought he didn’t think twice about you.

“Actually, no,” He lied. “He’s been wrapped up in this huge court case, he’s basically been out of touch to anyone,”

“Oh,” You answered softly. “Well, maybe when I--”

“Oh did I tell you?” Sonny interjected. “I found this great place up state for after you’re healed a bit more. You’re gonna love it. It’s lush, and the scenery is--”

“I-I’m sorry, what?” You blinked. “After I’m healed?”

“Well, yeah,” Sonny replied. “Y’know, I know what I said before but I think we both know you need to--”

“Go away,” You finished his sentence in a monotone.

“...Yeah,” He nodded.

“But--” You looked up at him. “Y-You want to send me to Upstate New York?”

“Well, Sunshine it’s this very nice--”

“I thought you’d maybe send me to Village Care, or Mountainside, some little 30 day treatment center Sonny,” You began to get upset the more you thought about being sent away so far. “Not fucking upstate New York!!!”

“Hey, it’s one of the best in the country, Y/N,” Sonny became serious. “You’re damn lucky I got you in, and so quickly too!”

“Oh gee, thanks so much Sonny,” You crossed your arms. “Thanks so much for jumping at the chance to get me as far away from you as possible,”

“It’s not away from me, it’s away from--!” Sonny caught himself, but you had already heard it.

“...Away from who?” Your eyes narrowed.

“Away from-- all of this, Sunshine,” He tried to change the subject.

“You’re a fucking liar,” you scowled.

“HEY,” Sonny bellowed. “Don’t use that language with me, young lady,”

“Oh good God,” You rolled your eyes. “It’s Rafael, isn’t it?” You didn’t let up.

Sonny tried to think of anyone else, but he couldn’t. Luckily, he thought of something better.

“Yeah, Sunshine,” He lowered his voice. “You need to get away from him so that you can get over this little-- thing you have for him,”

“Why?” Your eyes narrowed.

“Because he doesn’t love you!” He cried. “Because you freaked him out with your little stunt!”

“I don’t believe you,” Your voice filled with dread.

“You don’t believe me?” Sonny laughed. “Y/N did you know his dad died from drinking? In front of him?” He really wasn’t sure about that, but he’d say what he needed to sell this.

“...He didn’t say that he died,” You said softly.

“Well, he did. And you basically died in his arms, that brought all of it back up. And it fucking traumatized him,”

“No…” You shook your head. That couldn't be true. You could not have caused him that much pain-- god what was wrong with you?!

“You wanna know why he’s been so out of touch?” Sonny continued. “Because he’s been so upset he had to drown himself in work to cope with what you did to him!”

“...I…” Tears welled up in your eyes as the guilt began to eat you alive.

“Look, Sunshine,” He lowered his voice and sat back down on the bed.

“I don’t mean to throw so much tough love at ya, but-- he’s still my good friend, and you hurt him. I know you didn’t mean to, and I know you got hurt too. So, I just think that it’s better for all of us if you just--”

“Get as far away from here as possible,”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say it like that,” Sonny tried to be positive. “Just, you need to go to the best place that will help you heal-- your body and your heart,”

“....Yeah, I guess you’re right,” You nodded, wiping tears from your face.

“Good,” He kissed your forehead and stood up, heading to the door. “Now get some rest, I’ll see if we can get this over and done with by tomorrow, I don’t want you staying in this place more than you have to,”

“Thanks Sonny,” You gave him a genuine smile. “You’re a good cousin,”

"I try," He smiled and blew you a kiss before walking out the door.

------------------

Sonny raced down the hall to the surgeon’s office where Rafael was finishing filling out paperwork.

“So, did you tell her?” Rafael asked.

“Tell her what?”

“Did you tell her I’m saving her life and I’ll see her in a few days?”

“Oh,” Sonny felt sweat on his forehead. “Yeah, totally. She’s excited,”

“So why hasn’t she texted me?”

“Oh her phone died,” Sonny lied. “I actually have to run and get her a charger, you can come with me,”

“Of course I can…” Rafael rolled his eyes sarcastically. “The surgery’s early tomorrow morning, I put off my court dates until the end of next week, that should give us both enough time to heal,”

“Sounds good,” Sonny shot him a thumbs up.

“And you are gonna let me see her after all of these fucking hoops, right Carisi?”

“Yeah, of course Barba,” He laughed nervously. “I’m not a monster,”

“Good boy,” Rafael patted him on the head like his puppy.

Sonny wanted to rip that smug little smile off Rafael’s face, but knowing he was going to have the rug pulled out from under him was enough for him.

--------------

The next morning

The surgery nurse came in around 4 am, way too cheerful for that god awful hour.

“Hello dear!” She smiled brightly as you while you moaned and groaned. “I’ve come to prep you for surgery,”

“...Where’s my cousin?” You asked groggily.

“Uh, I’m not sure…” She shook her head while she injected something into your IV. Then she helped you maneuver with all your wires and contraptions to the wheeled bed which take you to the OR.

“...What the hell did you just give me?” You rubbed your eyes sleepily.

“Oh it’s the pre-anesthesia,” She explained. “The girls and I call it ‘giggle juice’,”

“...Like alcohol?” Your eyes widened.

“No, no dear calm yourself,” The nurse assured you. “It’s some medicine that will make you loopy, you won’t remember a thing I promise you,”

“Mmm..kay…” You blinked several times, feeling the drug take affect. Everything quickly went fuzzy, and you felt nice and warm. You realized that you were being wheeled down the hall now, with heated blankets on top of you. You felt like a cozy little burrito, safe in a tortilla.

You felt yourself being rolled into an OR, many masked people were there to greet you. They all had smile eyes behind their masks, they made you feel as safe as possible. Then, they rolled you next to...Rafael?

“....R-Raff---?” You could barely speak from the meds, but your eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“Hey…” He mumbled dreamily, his green eyes sparkling at you. Clearly he had some ‘giggle juice’ of his own.

“I--I don’t…” You shook your head, trying to grasp what was happening. Wasn’t Sonny supposed to be the one laying next to you? Was this Sonny and you were just seeing Rafael’s face?

“Hey hey hey shh,” Rafael shook his head softly and reached out for your hand. You poked it out through the burrito blanket and took his-- it was real. He was really there. He was giving you his liver, to save your life.

“I love you, Y/N,” He smiled the biggest smile you’d ever seen on a human.

“...Really?” You bit your lip with your own huge smile. You prayed to God this was NOT a drug induced dream. “I love you too,”

“Alright you two lovebirds,” You heard the surgeon chuckle. “There will be time enough for this after you’re sharing a liver,”

Wait. This means Sonny lied to you. Was he lying about everything? Was he lying when he said Rafael wanted a clean break? Was Sonny just trying to keep you two apart?

All of your realizations and questions were quickly silenced by the gas mask going over your face.

“Now count down from ten, dear,” The anesthesiologist instructed you. You wanted to say no, that you had to talk to Rafael before all of this happened. But you glanced over to see he was already out, and soon you were too.

--------------------

The next thing you knew you were waking up in a recovery room with a huge window. The sun was streaming in and welcoming you back to the world. You looked down to see a huge incision sewn up by several stitches with clear gauze and tape holding it together. It didn’t hurt yet, but you figured you were still on a lot of pain meds. You wondered how Sonny was doing, if the surgery went well for him too. Soon a nurse came into check on you.

“Well dear, how are we feeling?”

“Ah good,” You smiled weakly. “I guess as good as I can anyway,”

“Oh of course,” She nodded sweetly as she changed your bandages and replaced your fluids.

“Do you know how my cousin’s doing?” You asked her, causing her to furrow her eyebrows.

“Your cousin?” She repeated. “Well dear, I’m sure he’s fine. He hasn’t gotten here yet, probably the morning rush hour traffic,”

“...What?” Now you were the one to furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean he’s not here? Didn’t he--”

“Oh, look at that,” The nurse quickly finished switching the IV’s and looked at her tablet. “I’m late for my rounds. You rest up sweetie and I’ll come back tonight to get you ready to leave,”

“Rest up?” You repeated softly to yourself as she walked out of the room. “Leave?”

What did any of that mean? And why wasn’t Sonny already at the hospital? Didn’t he have surgery as well? They would have had to already have done it, right? Otherwise whose liver was inside you right now?! You had so many more questions, but apparently Nurse Ratchet gave you some morphine to knock you out until later that evening.

------------

Rafael woke up groggily in his hospital room, already in pain. He looked down to see an incision covered in gauze and tape. He looked next to him to see Sonny smiling sadly at him.

“...Oh god,” Rafael began to panic. “What happened?”

“What? Nothing, you’re great. Y/N is great,”

“Good,” He took a sigh of relief. “So when can I see her?”

“Yeah, here’s the thing Barba…”

“Oh no,” Rafael shook his head violently. “No no no no NO, Carisi. You said--”

“I know what I said, Barba,” He nodded. “But see the thing is, the place that I got Y/N too, it’s not only a rehab but it’s a hospital too. And they fill up super fast. So y’know I had to jump at the opening,”

“....What does that even mean, Carisi?” Rafael's eyes narrowed.

“....It means they already took her up there, so she could recover from the surgery and go right into rehab,” He lied. Well, it wasn't a complete lie. You were going to leave in a few hours, after he came and got you of course.

“You son of a bitch!!” Rafael tried to lunge at him from the bed, but his incision began to pull and shot pain through his entire body. He spasmed and fell back into the bed.

“Who whoa whoa there Barba,” Sonny tried easing him down as if he was a bull or a horse. “You’re gonna pop those stitches,”

“You knew you were going to send her away before I could say goodbye, didn’t you?” He glared at Sonny. “You knew this whole time you were never going to let me see her again. I gave her part of my liver!”

“And you saved her life, and I thank you for that Barba. I really do. And that should make you happy, right? The love of your life is going to live a long, happy life because of you,”

“Without me,” He added angrily.

“Well hey now,” Sonny clicked his tongue. “Never say never. Y’know when she’s completely over all of this, and you, maybe someday she’ll make her way back to the city and you guys can have your little weird friendship again, yeah?”

“Why are you doing this to her? To us?” His voice was more sad now, pitiful.

“I’m doing this for her, Barba. Please try and understand that,” Sonny shook his head as he walked towards the door.

“You’ll never get away with this, Carisi! I’ll find her,”

“Damn Barba I’m not a supervillain, cool your jets,”

“Could’ve fooled me,”

“HEY,” Sonny warned. “What I’m doing is for the greater good,”

“Said every supervillain ever,”

"Hurtful, Barba," Sonny put a hand to his chest. "Feel better, yeah?"

Rafael flipped him the bird as he walked out of the room, the door shutting behind him. He searched frantically around his bed for his phone, he had to google Hospital Rehabs, he had to find you.

He would find you, he wouldn't stop until he did.

#rafael barba #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba fanfiction #law and order svu fanfiction #sonny carisi #sonny carisi fanfiction #sonny carisi imagine #rafael barba x reader #weird secret friends

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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years

Text

🔥The Angelus Mortis (2/2)🔥

A/N: Here is part 2 of “The Angelus Mortis”! Part 1 is linked below if you haven’t read that part yet. Thank you for reading!

Part 1

~~~

The next day, Erwin woke up early to visit (Y/N) one last time before he had to hand her over to the MP’s. He sighed in disappointment. He thought he had been getting through to her, especially after she had given him her name, but he was left with nothing but false hope when she remained adamant about not answering any of his questions. He ran one of his large hands through his blonde locks in frustration as he made his way down the stone steps into the gloomy dungeon below.

He had no idea why he felt so conflicted when it came to this woman, why he had a feeling she was a better person than she was letting on. His heart battled with his brain as he walked, causing him to groan when he felt a headache begin to form. Why did he feel like he was missing something? Something important? He knew she would be a valuable asset to the Survey Corps if she cooperated, her strength rivaling that of Levi’s which would give them two vital weapons on the field. And he was sure that under Levi’s supervision she would flourish, maybe even develop a friendship with the sullen man. Maybe that’s why he felt so strange, because it was a missed opportunity?

Erwin shook his head as he finally rounded the corner, pushing away his inner turmoil to mull over on a later date. Immediately upon his arrival, (Y/N) rolled over on the small, filthy cot she had been provided, and met his gaze.

“Here to collect me, already?” (Y/N) asked, her disdain barely veiled by her attempt at a quip.

“No, not yet,” Erwin said as he sat down in the lone metal chair he had used the day before.

(Y/N) sat up slowly and crossed her legs, resting her hands in her lap as she turned to face him completely.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Well, you have spent one whole day here and you’ve been alone for most of that time. I came down here to see if you’re ready to answer my questions now.”

(Y/N) grit her teeth. “I told you, I don’t want to answer any of your shitty questions.”

“What’s the point? You’re going to be heading right for your very painful death in just a few hours, what is keeping you from parting with some information that will likely be unimportant soon anyway?”

“Just because I’m dying doesn’t mean I have to justify my life, to you of all people.”

“I only want to help you, this could save your life.”

“Why the hell do you care so much about me anyway? What am I to you? Do you want me for something? Maybe for your own personal desires?” (Y/N) suddenly bristled. “I didn’t take you as someone who would stoop so low, Commander, but what did I expect? I guess that’s what I get for thinking a murderer could show empathy. And to think, I almost learned to trust you a little.”

Erwin blanched, his face paling and his eyes widening.

“What?” He asked in utter shock. A murderer? What the hell was she going on about?

(Y/N) seethed at him and turned away, her entire body tensed and angry.

“Do whatever the hell you want with me,” (Y/N) said in a low voice. “Beat me, kill me, fuck me, do whatever you want, but I’ll never tell you anything.”

Erwin was quiet for a minute as he fought to process what he had just heard. A killer? Him? He only killed when he really needed to, aside from when he was fighting titans, of course, but he rarely used his weapons on a person, and never with malicious intent.

“What makes you think I’m a murderer?” Erwin asked.

(Y/N) suddenly whirled on him, her teeth bared, showing more of the wolf inside her that she had developed in the Underground. Her eyes flashed with fury and her fists clenched at her sides as she lost control.

“How dare you ask me that question,” (Y/N) snarled. “How dare you after what you took from me? Do you not even remember? Were they really that meaningless to you? You took away my family, the only positive thing I had in this world. You ripped them from me and now you dare ask how you have wronged?”

Erwin was bewildered now but he tried not to let it show on his face. He had to tread carefully. If he didn’t say the right thing, she might end up shutting down completely, and then he would lose any chance of keeping her from getting killed. He also wanted to keep her from hating him. If she was going to join the Corps, he would have to be able to lead his men without fearing for his life every time she was around.

“Did… did they live in the Underground with you?” Erwin asked carefully.

(Y/N) plopped down on her bed, rage still coursing through her veins as she looked at the man she had loathed ever since the fateful day her family had disappeared from her life, but she felt too tired to argue with him. He had won anyway, she was going to be tortured, maybe violated, killed, and then dumped in a trash can somewhere, left to die alone and forgotten. There was no point in trying to fight him anymore, not when he held the strings attached to her back, commanding the show and forcing her to dance. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break, but she knew her fate was sealed the moment she was brought up from the Underground. “Yes,” she said in a small voice, her head hanging low so that her hair covered her eyes.

“Are they the reason why you asked for my name in the Underground? Why you hesitated when you saw my face?”

(Y/N) only nodded.

“Are they why you targeted soldiers? To make us feel the pain you did when you found out they were gone?”

(Y/N) nodded again, more slowly this time and with a single glimmering tear that slid down her cheek and hit the stone floor with a barely audible tap.

Erwin hesitated again and swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry… for your loss.”

(Y/N) scoffed at him, her eyes filled with a smouldering hatred as she met his gaze.

Erwin cringed a little. He knew how apathetic that apology must have sounded, but he was at a loss for words. He just had to keep trying.

“I mean it. If I am responsible for their deaths then it must mean they died in combat, under my command. So, I am sorry for not being able to lead them properly. For not being able to protect them and bring them back home to you. I am so sorry…”

(Y/N) didn’t respond but he did notice that her gaze softened just slightly at his apology. He was starting to get through to her again. He knew that her acceptance of his apology was just a chink in the protective walls surrounding her broken heart, but he would take whatever he could get.

That was when Erwin suddenly realized something, the image of two faces flashing in his mind as he thought about what she had said. There had only been three people he had ever brought up from the Underground to be in the Survey Corps, and only two of them were dead. Farlan and Isabel.

Thinking back on it, Levi had never mentioned anyone other than Isabel and Farlan, and when he had been busted and brought to the surface he had only come with his two friends. Maybe they had never met. Maybe (Y/N) only knew Farlan and Isabel from her childhood and early adulthood while Levi was a mere business partner. Or maybe they did know each other but only through brief business interactions.

His heart jumped a little in his chest when he realized he was on to something. Maybe he could show her to Levi and see what his reaction would be? See if he would be the key to having her cooperate? Besides, it might be good for them, the both of them having lost their two best friends in a horrific manner, giving them the chance to form a bond or close friendship. It might even give Levi some closure. Erwin would be a bad friend if he hadn’t noticed how the loss of Levi’s past friends were still affecting him.

“How… how did they die?”

(Y/N)’s sudden question surprised him but he quickly brought himself back to the moment, not wanting to scare her away from talking to him again. He honestly couldn’t believe this was the same woman who had been bantering back and forth with him the day before, but he now realized she had been using it as a means of protecting herself. To make herself seem more confident in the face of the one person she supposedly hated the most. She had entertained him so he would stop digging, stop trying to dredge up old, painful memories.

“We were on an expedition outside of the walls and it started to storm. We tried to retreat but the rain and open meadows made it difficult to find our way back. Everything looked the same, blurry and gray or green. In the confusion, an abnormal titan snuck up on us and killed the majority of our troops, your family among them.”

(Y/N) was quiet but met his gaze again, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She looked so vulnerable at that moment. He could tell she still had that fighting spirit, that unwavering strength; the vulnerability did not make her look weak or pitiable in the slightest. It just made her look more… human.

“What happened to the titan?” She asked.

“One of my Captains, Levi, took care of it.”

(Y/N)’s head suddenly jolted up, her entire body going rigid. “Wha-”

“Erwin!” The Commander turned around to see Hanji standing on the stone steps leading down to the dungeon, clutching a lantern in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other.

Erwin stood and met his girlfriend on the steps, taking the manacles from her. Hanji gazed at him for a minute before her gaze shifted to the woman in the cell. Erwin could tell right away that Hanji felt something similar about the mysterious assassin, that she had the strange feeling that there was something more to her like he did. He could see it in her eyes, in the way they shone even in the darkness of the dungeon.

“Time to go,” Hanji said softly.

Erwin nodded and made his way to the cell, Hanji following close behind with a sword in her grasp, ready to cut the woman down should she try anything.

When Erwin moved to stand behind her, leaning down to lock her wrists into the handcuffs, (Y/N) hung her head again, her mind still spinning with the name that had fallen from the Commander’s lips.

It was a name she hadn’t heard in years, a name that still haunted her dreams and left her feeling cold and alone. There was no way it was really him. Levi was a common enough name that the Captain could be anyone. Despite this, the fact that there was a chance he was really out there, gave (Y/N) peace of mind.

If he was dead, then she guessed she was going to see him soon, maybe finally live the life they wanted to, if that was even possible after death. If he was alive, then that would still be satisfactory enough for her. Either way, she hoped she’d get to see him again soon. Maybe death wouldn’t be so bad.

“Commander Erwin,” (Y/N) said.

“Yes?” Erwin said, trying to hide the surprise in his voice when she said his real name rather than mocking his title of Commander or calling him an idiot.

“How is your shoulder?”

Erwin was baffled but answered her honestly.

“Sore but healing well.”

“Good. I’m sorry I stabbed you.”

Erwin swallowed and shook his head to tell her it was alright, his throat refusing to let him speak. Hanji was watching the Angelus Mortis carefully, her eyes filled with confused sorrow. (Y/N) glanced at the bespeckled Squad Leader and nodded once, a tiny smile curving at the corners of her lips.

(Y/N) could do nothing but sit still as they finished clamping her hands behind her back and stood her up, leading her out of the cell and up the stairs to her inevitable death.

_____________________________

Levi strode through the halls, looking for Erwin. He had been told immediately upon his arrival that the Commander had managed to capture a dangerous assassin from the Underground and needed his assistance in transporting them to the Military Police base to be detained and sentenced to death. He had been a bit surprised with the news, he hadn’t known that Erwin was hunting for a killer from the slums, but he had been out for an entire week on that solo mission, so things were bound to happen without his knowledge while he was gone.

Levi only paused by his office to switch out the sword he had for a cleaner, sharper one. The blade he had carried previously was covered in filth and worn from the constant fights he had been forced to break up on his mission.

As soon as he had a better weapon, he set off for the dungeons where Erwin and Hanji were supposedly already bringing the criminal up the stairs. He hadn’t heard much about this assassin, all he knew was that they were exceedingly dangerous, known as the Angelus Mortis, and they were headed for death row. He gripped his sword a bit tighter as he walked, readying his mind to prepare for anything. A criminal this dangerous would be incredibly strong and while he had no doubt in his mind that he could defeat the bastard, he would rather get out of the fight with all of his limbs attached.

“Levi! Over here!”

Levi looked up as he approached the dungeon steps, his silver eyes flickering over to the prisoner in Hanji’s and Erwin’s grasp. His eyes widened a little when he realized the assassin was a woman, her filthy (h/c) hair covering her face as she hung her head.

“Oi, who are you? What’s your name?” Levi asked coldly, his eyes narrowing on her thin form.

He expected her to keep her head down despite his commanding tone. He knew criminals like this, you could yell at them all you wanted, demand things from them, even beat them and they would usually remain stubbornly silent.

What he did not expect was for her to lift her head sharply, the sound of his voice triggering something in her.

Levi gasped audibly when her (e/c) eyes met his silver ones, his entire world shifting beneath his feet. Her whole body froze when she saw him. For a moment, nobody breathed, Levi’s eyes roving over her constantly as he tried to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

(Y/N). That was (Y/N). His (Y/N).

The one who had given him so much love and appreciation every day despite their shitty lives in the slums. The one who had comforted him when the world felt too dark; the one who loved him when he couldn’t love himself; the one who patched him up after a fight and fought by his side when she could. It was (Y/N). Undoubtedly (Y/N).

“Levi? What’s the matter?” Hanji asked.

Levi suddenly remembered the reality of their situation. (Y/N) was the goddamn Angelus Mortis. The most dangerous assassin in the world was the love of his life, and she was being sentenced to death.

“Let her go,” Levi said, his voice low.

“What? But Levi-”

“I said let her go!” Levi barked.

Hanji and Erwin exchanged concerned glances but slowly moved to unlock the handcuffs holding her to them.

As soon as she was free, (Y/N) sprinted forward and crashed into Levi, her small frame hitting him like a bullet.

“LEVI!!!” (Y/N) cried in a strangled voice.

Levi grunted a little at the impact but wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her waist, completely forgetting about the audience that watched them, their mouths dropped open in shock. Hanji and Erwin were no better, their eyes wide.

“Oh my fucking gods, it’s you, it’s really you,” (Y/N) whispered in awe, her arms tightening around him, holding each other in the middle of the hallway.

Levi was about to speak when he looked up and noticed that everyone was staring. Sending a glare in the direction of their audience that promised a painful death to anyone who spoke, Levi reluctantly pulled away from (Y/N) and grabbed her wrist, tugging her along behind him as he made for his office.

“Wait, Levi!”

“Levi! What the hell!?”

Levi heard Erwin and Hanji call out to him but he ignored them, making a beeline for the familiar wooden door to his quarters. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the Commander and the crazy scientist coming up behind him, but he did not stop or slow down, his eyes trained on his destination.

When they had finally reached his office, Levi pulled (Y/N) inside and begrudgingly let Erwin and Hanji join them before slamming the door shut and locking it. (Y/N) barely had enough time to glance around the space before he was on her again, this time sealing their lips in a searing kiss that stole the air from her lungs.

Erwin’s and Hanji’s jaws dropped at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier kissing the Angelus Mortis without a care in the world. Neither one of them had ever known Levi to be interested in love, the sullen man even going so far as to get angry at the mention of it, rolling his eyes when couples kissed in the hallways and gagging when Hanji tried to set him up with someone.

Levi pulled away from the kiss, panting, before he moved his lips to place desperate butterfly kisses all over her face and neck, his body humming at the feeling of her against him for the first time in years.

When they finally broke apart again, both of them ignoring the company they had in the office with them, they stared at each other, their eyes shining as they took the sight of their lost lover. (Y/N) reached up and gently cupped his cheek with her palm, her heart nearly exploding when he nuzzled into her touch, his eyes closing and his own hand coming up to cover her own.

“Gods, I missed you so fucking much,” Levi murmured.

“Me too Levi, I missed you so much, I don’t even have the words to express it.”

“I thought I lost you…,” Levi choked out, a single tear sliding down his cheek to hit her thumb where her hand was still holding his face.

“I thought I lost you,” (Y/N) whispered, her thumb moving to swipe the tear off of his skin. “I was told when I asked around that you were killed in combat with Farlan and Isabel, after being forced to join the military.”

Levi’s eyes opened, his silver hues glassy with unshed tears.

“I tried to get you. Tried to come back for you. But when I got to the Underground, everyone near our old place told me you had been brutally murdered. I even found the inside of our house to be destroyed with blood splattered on the floor.”

Levi’s body began to tremble as he relived the horrendous memory. The time when he thought all hope was lost, all life was meaningless, and that he was destined to be alone. When he had collapsed upon the filthy floor of their old ramshackle home, the blood soaking into his pants and sliding over his palms, he had wanted nothing more than to die. Almost did, until he managed to remind himself that she would’ve never wanted that for him. That she would’ve killed him if he decided to end his life. And so he had hardened his heart and left the scene, making that promise to himself right then and there that he would never love another woman ever again. He would live, for her sake, but he would never love, for his sake.

(Y/N) glanced away from him then, her hand dropping from his face to twist nervously in front of her, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

“Yeah, well, when I thought you were dead, I knew there was no hope for me left. I was in agony, but I was also furious. Beyond furious at both the Military Police and the Survey Corps for taking you and Isabel and Farlan away from me. Aside from that though, I was also scared. Scared they would find out about our relationship and come looking for me. I knew I had to get out of there, I refused to work for the murderers who had taken away my one happiness in this life. So I trained myself, starting by faking my own death to become untraceable. Then I became stronger, faster. I killed both to remain free and to make them feel the pain I felt when you were ripped away from me.”

Levi’s eyes softened and he reached for her, bringing her into his chest and holding her tightly, his fingers tangling in her hair. Oh gods she was skin and bones, he could feel how malnourished she was through his shirt, her ribs poking him in the chest as he held her.

Suddenly, the Commander’s sharp voice broke the spell in the room, making both Levi and (Y/N) jump a little when he spoke.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what the fuck is going on here?” Erwin asked.

Levi and (Y/N) pulled out of their embrace but Levi kept an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, holding her close to him as if she’d disappear if he let go.

“Sorry, Erwin, Hanji,” Levi said, looking at each of his friends in turn. “I’d like for you to properly meet (Y/N) Ackerman, my wife.”

If Erwin and Hanji thought they were shocked before, nothing could have prepared them for the bombshell that just landed on them. Both of their mouths fell open so they were gaping like fish, their words caught in their throats.

“YOUR WIFE!?” Hanji suddenly screeched, her eyes sparkling with shock and wonder.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile and nod, her expression making the room feel several degrees warmer.

“But, Levi, you’ve never worn a ring!” Erwin pointed out, his mind scrambling for any kind of clues that he had missed that would’ve told him sooner that Levi was married. He came up empty. He knew for a fact that Levi never wore a ring on his hand, knew that if he had, Hanji would’ve never stopped asking him about it.

Levi then flashed a small smile of his own, and reached up to remove the cravat from around his neck. As soon as the pristine white fabric had fallen away, Erwin and Hanji were both able to see the silver chain that was clasped around his neck, a simple gold band hanging from the center.

(Y/N) reached up with her own hands to move the flaps of the old jacket she was wearing, the same silver chain with a gold ring on the end of it sitting against her sternum.

Erwin and Hanji just stood and stared in complete and utter shock for a moment, before Hanji suddenly let out a loud squeal, her eyes shining behind her glasses as she ran right up to (Y/N). Levi stuck an arm out as the energetic woman came running up to them.

“Oi, Four-Eyes, don’t go harassing her.”

“Levi, this is your wife! I can’t not come and say hello!” Hanji said incredulously, pushing his arm away and ignoring his scowl as she bounded around (Y/N) excitedly. “Oh my gods you are so pretty! No wonder Shorty likes you!”

(Y/N) blushed at the comment and sheepishly ducked her head down a little but she was smiling brightly, her fingers moving to gently run down Levi’s arm, telling him she was alright even with this wildly energetic woman in her face.

“T-Thank you,” (Y/N) said. “Are you a friend of Levi’s?”

The scientist nodded excitedly and stuck out her hand for (Y/N) to shake. “The name’s Hanji.”

(Y/N) shook her hand and tried to force the blush from her cheeks as Hanji continued to fawn over her.

“Levi, how come you never told us you were married?” Erwin asked while his girlfriend continued to blubber away, cooing over (Y/N)’s features and already beginning to set up a meal plan to help her get strong again.

Levi leveled a gaze at his Commander and one of the few people he called his friend. It was hard to tell what the giant blonde was thinking. He obviously knew Hanji’s opinion on everything, but Erwin’s sharp blue eyes remained unreadable but no less intense as they settled on the shorter man, waiting for a response. Levi naturally drifted almost imperceptibly closer to (Y/N) before speaking.

“I thought she was dead, Erwin. I’ve thought that ever since I went back to try to bring her up with me and found that scene at the house. Not only would telling you have been pointless, but also, it hurt too much to talk about her. I never took off my ring, I always wear it under my cravat, but I could never bring her up in conversation, not without feeling like my heart was being ripped out,” Levi said quietly, his voice a low rumble and his cheeks tinted with the palest pink as he admitted his feelings aloud.

Erwin contemplated his Captain’s words, his eyes narrowed on the sharp grey ones that stared right back. After a moment, Erwin could tell there was no deception in his friend’s gaze, nothing to suggest he hadn’t told them about (Y/N) for some unorthodox reason. The Commander nodded once, and he could’ve sworn Levi let out the softest sigh of relief. Hanji’s head suddenly shot up from where she had been examining (Y/N) for injuries.

“So that’s why you never accepted any of the women I tried to set you up with!” She said. “You were always so bothered by it, always so angry, now I know why!”

“Yeah,” Levi grumbled as he glared at the scientist. “Even when I thought she was dead, I just couldn’t love another…”

Hanji stared at him for a moment before her eyes softened. She knew how hard it was for him to admit all of this, how awkward he must feel right now trying to explain everything. She wasn’t used to seeing her normally blunt, stoic, collected friend so nervous.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just didn’t want you to be so sad and lonely anymore.”

Levi threw her another glare but it was less harsh this time, and having been friends with the grumpy man for so long, Hanji could read the hidden gratitude in his eyes. She nodded once in response and went back to checking (Y/N) over.

“(Y/N),” Erwin called, suddenly turning to face her after watching Hanji examine her.

“Yes?”

“Now that we’ve found out about your connection to my Captain here, I want to remind you that I am technically still obligated to take you to the Military Police for your crimes.”

Levi let loose an almost animalistic snarl and wrapped his arms around (Y/N), his eyes flashing and his teeth bared as he dared his friend to even try to take her from him. Erwin didn’t even bat an eye, a small smile curving at the corners of his lips.

“Since it is obvious that is not really an option for either of you, I would like to formally ask you to join the Survey Corps. That way, I can discount any charges against you and protect you from being forcibly taken from our custody once the Military Police realize we are not going to arrive.”

(Y/N) looked up at her husband, meeting his gaze and squeezing his hand comfortingly. Gods she had missed him so much, her heart ached with how much she loved this man, how much she never wanted to let him out of her sight ever again. Even though she had hated the military for most of her life, basing her entire career around it in her search for vengeance, there was no debate in her mind. Even if joining the Survey Corps wouldn’t have guaranteed her life, she knew she would’ve always agreed.

“Yes, I will join the Survey Corps, pledge my life to you, and fight for humanity,” (Y/N) said clearly and without hesitation, returning the smile the Commander threw her. Turning to Levi, (Y/N) looked deeply into his gunmetal eyes, marveling at the emotion swirling within them. “I will follow you, wherever you go, no matter what happens, I am never letting you out of my sight ever again.”

Levi let a genuine smile ride across his face as Erwin and Hanji left to go submit the proper paperwork, giving the reunited couple some privacy. Leaning down, Levi pressed his lips to hers in a blazing kiss, gentle and sweet but no less passionate, letting his kisses tell her exactly how he was feeling in that moment.

“I’m so glad you’re alive, (Y/N),” Levi whispered breathlessly when they pulled apart, resting his forehead against hers.

“I will always come back to you, Levi,” (Y/N) said, her own eyes glazed with unshed tears. “I only ever feel truly alive when I am with you.”

~~~

A/N: I know the ending dialogue is a little cheesy but I had fun writing this anyway. Thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoy! More Levi content coming soon!

318 notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Treehouse

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Katsuki Bakugou/Reader (and a lot of other people) Warnings: Spoilers for bakugou’s hero name ahead!!, songfic for this song Summary: Katsuki’s grown a lot since middle school, hasn’t he? ~~~

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

Katsuki looked down at the girl in his arms, eyes fluttered shut and lashes fallen over her cheeks. Lips parted ever so slightly to let out puffs of even, laxed breathing. The golden sunlight shone in her hair as it beamed through his thin curtains, soft warmth spreading over both of their bodies. His fingers carefully danced over the tender skin of her arm as he held her close. Her head over his chest and he was sure that the sound of his thunderous heartbeat would wake her eventually.

It felt nice, he concluded, to hold his love so dearly. To let his chest deflate and not have to be the best of the best. He didn’t have to be anyone. He didn’t have to be Bakugou, Katsuki - top of the class. Bakugou, Katsuki - Dynamight. Bakugou, Katsuki - Kacchan. Bakugou, Katsuki.

If he didn’t want to, he didn’t have to be anyone. She’d hold him just as close with any other persona he wanted to wear. It was his real security. His real home - right in her arms. A home he didn’t want to leave.

He wasn’t sure when it hit him. Just one of those random thoughts you never expect but deep down, you knew the entire time. Something so simple and yet so earth shattering that merely breathing it into existence seemed catastrophic. He wasn’t sure when it hit him that he was terrified of losing her. So innately terrified that the very thought was enough to send his muscles a tremor.

The feeling, it wasn’t nice. But he knew exactly what was - living the life he could with (Y/n).

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Man, you’re really saving my ass here, Bakubro!” Eijiro grinned, exposing his unnatural shark teeth.

Katsuki huffed, “Don’t think about it, shitty hair. You’re still not passing.”

“I know, I know,” the redhead nervously grinned, eyeing the rolled up newspaper in Katsuki’s hand as he did so, “It’s just manly of you to help me is all. You’ve changed, man, it’s kinda cool.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!” Eijiro put down his pencil, “It’s cool.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t retort further. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, that usually would’ve gotten Kirishima, Eijiro a first-class newspaper swatting but he supposed he could let it pass. Just this once.

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. I'm really glad you think I'm so funny. I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

Denki bit at his bottom lip in concentration, more effort going into thinking about cracking the egg in his hand than actually cracking the egg in his hand. His brows were drawn tight toward his face, contemplating how he should go about his cracking to avoid a mess. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he’d gotten shell in the bowl and yolk all on the counter and his fingers. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he felt like an utter fool.

Looking over to the electric blond, Katsuki snarled at how little the boy had gotten done. Walking over, he took the egg still encased in its roughened shell from Denki in one hand and a bowl in the other. Tilting the porcelain bowl just right, Katsuki snapped the egg against the lip of the dish, pulling his fingers apart to hold the crack in the egg open so the yolk could drool down. Tossing out the eggshell, Katsuki watched as Denki took an egg for himself before copying exactly what the explosive teenager had done.

As two yolks drowned together in whites within their little bowl, Denki sung the praises of his dear friend, of Bakugou, Katsuki - and in Denki’s opinion, apparently, a masterchef.

Nodding stiffly, Katsuki turned back to his own task at buttering the pan as it laid atop its burner. He let silence rule the kitchen until Denki would break it with a lame joke he would never admit he liked.

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

“You have such great lid space, though,” Mina clasped her hands tighter, “I think it’d be fun!”

Katsuki grumbled under his breath before sighing and tossing his head back, “I’ll give you twenty minutes. Starting fucking now.”

Squealing, Mina hopped onto the common room couch before unzipping her makeup bag, “Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, barely managing to hold his underlying frustration inside, “Your damn funeral if you fuck up.”

“I won’t…” Mina pouted, “C’mon, don’t you believe in me? Just a little? You’ve seen what I can do.”

“I’ll believe for now.”

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Oh, didn’t know the balconies were occupied,” Hanta awkwardly muttered.

Katsuki looked up from the ground below, brows furrowed and eyes stinging, “If you say anything to anyone, I’ll kill you myself.”

Putting his hands up, Hanta showed off that stupidly large, stupidly infectious grin, “Hey, man, everyone needs a good cry. I think it keeps us sane.”

Nodding silently, Katsuki stood at his railing, head hanging over and eyes clenched shut in a new effort to keep his tears in.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Maybe, instead of dying, you could just vent to a trusted friend who cares about you?” Hanta suggested, “You go to (L/n), right? Well, now you can come to me, too. We’re friends, Bakugou, we’re there for each other.”

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy.

Stirring inside his mind, were the thoughts he’d been keeping to himself since that fight. His real fight with Izuku. Where Katsuki won. The successor to All Might and boy wonder was beaten by Katsuki. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Izuku was making progress fast, far too fast. He was leaping towards the top and Katsuki could only watch on, feet trapped in the cement. The ground swallowing his body as Deku, the Quirkless one, the useless one, the crybaby, bound forward in success.

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t enough. Bakugou, Katsuki was simply not enough.

That’s what he was beginning to believe; where he couldn’t even save himself from villains, Deku came rushing in to save him and succeeded.

Sitting at the kitchen island, alone, in the middle of the night, that’s what Katsuki was beginning to believe.

Lights flicker on, “Kacchan?”

Closing his eyes, Katsuki pretended there was no voice. Nobody behind him. No one but him awake at this awful hour.

“You’re usually in bed by now. Way before, actually.”

There was no reply. There didn’t need to be one. Izuku sat beside Katsuki all the same, an uneven, slightly nervous, smile on his face as he did so.

Katsuki opened his eyes, looking at the other boy from the corner of his peripheral, “You’ve made the power yours.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not as useless as I thought.”

“Thanks… you know, I’ve been meaning to ask… would you- would you train with me sometime? I think that I could really improve if I fought someone like you.”

“Someone like me? The fuck does that mean?”

“Strong. Well-versed in your Quirk. Other than Todoroki, you’re probably the best at Quirk application, so I wanted to see if I could fight you.”

“Ask daddy issues.”

“But then we couldn’t have our rematch. I still need to beat you, Kacchan, you know?”

I'm really glad you think I'm so funny.

Katsuki found himself staring at the back of Izuku’s head, brows furrowed. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see her. (L/n), (Y/n) smiling at him softly, perfect lips tugged into a perfect grin on her perfect face. God, what he wouldn’t give to just grab her and kiss the smile off her face just to do it all over again. What he wouldn’t give to scream to the world he loved her.

“You okay? You’re tense.”

Glancing to the front, Shota still sleepily tucked in his sleeping bag in a corner of the room, Katsuki nodded, “Fucking fine. Just thinking.”

Setting her chin in the palm of her hand, (Y/n) tilted her head ever so slightly, “Wanna tell me about it?” shaking his head, the ash-blond went to refuse when she spoke up again, “Not here, if you wanna wait.”

He felt almost unworthy. Losing to Deku, killing the legacy of All Might, getting kidnapped by villains - Bakugou, Katsuki felt unworthy of his own lover’s comforts. Looking at the face of an angel would make you crazy - at least that’s what his father told him once. And so, he nodded slowly, “Sure. Later. Alone, though, I’m not talking shit in front of Raccoon Eyes and Dunce Face.”

“Whatever you need,” she murmured, giggling quietly to herself, “I’m here.”

I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

“I’ll say this once.”

He burned the image of them into his brain. (Y/n) and Eijiro on either side of him on the common room couch. Denki just about ready to cut through the carrot cake Mina and Hanta slaved over despite trashing on the choice the entire time. Izuku was slightly off to the side, ready to hand off gifts to his childhood rival.

Katsuki sighed quietly, looking to his feet when a hand grabbed his, (Y/n) rubbing her thumb into his skin. He swallowed his pride before letting everything he felt about each and every person in the room manifest into the best phrase someone like him could imagine.

“Thanks. For everything.”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakusquad #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou appreciation post #he's great and i love him :3 soo i wrote this #song is treehouse by alex g if that wasn't clear

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Text

kings of the southside: CHAPTER 2

The storefronts on the block were different now— fragile minimalist displays and organic coffee shops uprooting the aged wooden bar signs with peeling paint and bullet holes— but against all odds, and with everyone else moving on, he and Mickey had decided to stay.

(a canon divergent fic in which ian and mickey stay on the southside and take over the alibi)

read chapter 2 here on ao3, or below the cut! (see notes on ao3 for various credits)

The end of the first weekend of them running the Alibi came quickly, and with it came Mickey’s focus being pulled in a million goddamn directions; they still had to unpack all of their shit upstairs, still had to figure out inventory and restock the bar and balance the books. Between all of the swirling and circling tasks Mickey felt like his head was going to explode, a sharp shift after the smooth waters of doing fuck-all for the past few months before the weed security business took off and he’d been forced to snap back into business mode.

Ian had bounced back from that first Saturday night of running the bar, the slump relaxing and fading out of his shoulders, and he was chipper as ever all Sunday afternoon, constantly grabbing at Mickey’s waist and singing fucking songs in his ear as they brushed elbows while pouring beers beside each other at the bar. As always, Ian fucking sunshine Gallagher’s mood seemed to have some sort of trickle-down effect on Mickey on Sunday, despite Mickey’s best efforts to not be a love-crazed loon. So even though they had a million things to do for Ian’s 80s night bullshit and Mickey had every reason to be stressed, he found himself fucking whistling when he rinsed the dishes behind the bar on Sunday night, and Tommy started giving him shit— and Mickey realized that he didn’t think there was a time he’d remembered whistling, ever, in his goddamn life.

He couldn’t really help it; Ian was radiating this new, breezy energy that Mickey still hadn’t had the time to feel the past few months, with all the bullshit going on with Terry and his family next door that set his teeth on edge— but now Ian was melting into their new life, acting settled, acting like he didn’t have a goddamn care in the world and everything was all figured out. And Mickey started to realize, in the fuzzy back corners of his brain, that maybe, just maybe— he could start to feel that way about their new gig at the Alibi and their new place, too.

They didn’t have to run from anything anymore.

Mickey practically couldn’t believe his ears the other week when Ian had willingly accepted custody of the Alibi with a too-relaxed air of nonchalance, with a well, maybe Mick and I could take it off your hands, on one of their final days scarfing down sugary cereal in the late hours of the morning in the Gallagher house kitchen. There was no way Gallagher was being serious about this— Ian was always talking about going somewhere, about being something bigger than he was, so there was no way he was offering to Kev that they would take over his dump of a bar. Except he definitely was— and for a sharp and splintering instant Mickey was worried Ian was saying this for him; that once again, he was holding Ian Gallagher back.

But Mickey had felt Ian’s warm palm resting on his leg under the kitchen table— and he’d seen the warmth, that fucking warmth that always heated Mickey’s insides, as Ian turned to him with his eyebrows raised in a question, in a wordless proposition— and once again it struck Mickey like a goddamn lightning bolt just how much Ian Gallagher loved him, if he looked this blissed out about the prospect of living in a shitty Southside apartment and running an even shittier bar with Mickey Milkovich for the rest of his days.

Mickey knew part of Ian doing this was for him, after all the Westside bullshit that Mickey had resisted at every turn. Mickey knew he’d lost his shit when he made that yuppie poodle lady rip their lease to shreds, but could anyone blame him? The few hours they’d spent at the apartment complex made Mickey feel like he was going to crawl out of his fucking skin, like the glares of everyone he passed by in the too-clean, air-freshened hallways made him itch from the inside out. There was no fucking way he could stay in a place like that. But he was going to try, if Ian wanted.

But with a simple sentence, with a simple maybe Mick and I could take it off your hands spoken into the dusty kitchen of the Gallagher house, Mickey was saved. This Alibi plan pulled them both above water, gave them both a shore to rest on— and now they were finally, finally on the same fucking page, after figuratively (and literally) butting heads about the future for so long.

So now they were here, and they were doing it, and it was scary as fuck. Mickey had never lived in a place so quiet, a small space so devoid of the press of other people screeching and fighting and leaving trails of clutter, and he knew that Ian hadn’t either; both of their childhood homes were always crawling with various drunks or Russian prostitutes or batshit crazy relatives, and the silence of their too-small studio, in the morning hours before the bar was opened downstairs, was deafening.

Mickey could feel his jaw start to clench as he laid twisted in the sheets on Monday morning, when Ian had gone for a run and Mickey was left in the apartment alone for an hour and it was quiet, too quiet— but instantly the boisterous noise of the Southside streets had started to flow just outside the open window, a cacophony of honking horns and shouted slurs and gunshots, and the trickling in of the sounds tickled Mickey’s scalp, and reminded him that he was still rooted— he was still home.

And then Ian came clomping up the stairs like a sweaty monster after his run and tackled Mickey into the mattress, flopping onto him like a fucking Saint Bernard—and Mickey remembered why they did this, why this was good for both of them.

Against every single one of Mickey’s instincts, against everything he’d always known— he was going to let himself have this.

Ian’s brows were furrowed, a pressed series of creases narrowed in focus, as he stared at the paint swatches with a too-sharp glare.

“Mick, I really don’t see the fucking difference between Charcoal Gray and Burnt Ember.”

Mickey huffed, snatching the series of paint swatches out of his hand. “Nevermind then. You’ve got no eye for this shit, Gallagher. Charcoal Gray has cool undertones, Burnt Ember has a warmer vibe. We’ve definitely gotta go with Burnt Ember, the lighting in this place is shit and I wanna make sure the kitchen has a good ambiance.”

Ian’s lips curved into a smile of disbelief, rolling his eyes. Annoying motherfucker. “They both look like gray to me.”

Mickey flashed a grin in reply, then swatted Ian’s chest with the remaining paint swatches he was holding. “It’s a good thing you’re good at manual labor. If we wanna have this place painted by Wednesday, we’ve gotta get moving.”

“On it. Lip’s coming by with the paint for the main room and the wallpaper stuff, too.”

And just then, there was a gentle tap at the door. “Ey, it’s me and Liam.”

Ian bounded across the room to pull the paint-chipped door open. “Speak of the devil.”

Lip strode into their shithole apartment carrying cans of paint and a wrench clenched between his fingers, Liam trailing behind him.

“Damn. It’s only been two days and I already forgot what a dump this place is.”

Ian shoved Lip’s shoulder. “Fuck you. If you can renovate our shitty house, fixing this place up should be a piece of cake.”

Mickey noticed Liam scanning the room— in a fit of annoyance the other morning, with the bright fucking sun streaming in because they hadn’t gotten curtains yet with the bar pulling focus downstairs, Mickey had sliced a black trashbag and pinned it to the window as a makeshift curtain. Liam’s eyes lingered on the hanging trashbag, and he raised a judgmental eyebrow at Mickey.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.”

Ian chuckled. “Yeah, Mick’s a real interior designer.”

Liam just sighed. “You guys need all the help you can get.”

Mickey’s brows furrowed. “Fuck you both. That was a temporary solution.” He walked over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of beer, just so he had something to do.

Ian grinned again, then reached out to ruffle Liam’s hair. “How’s the new place, superstar?”

Liam shrugged nonchalantly. “I like it. I just hung up all of my posters. Added a bit of vibrancy to the color palette that Tami chose to paint my room.”

Ian smirked, and nodded a head towards Mickey, who was standing by the fridge and fumbling with his beer bottle. “You should talk to Mickey about color palettes—we’ve been arguing for the last half hour about what shade of gray to paint the kitchen. Something about cool and warm undertones?”

Liam turned to examine the kitchenette in the back of the studio, hand on his hips. “Definitely warm undertones in a small space like this, unless you get some updated light fixtures.

Ian grinned. “Damn. Guess I really do have two interior designers in my family.”

Liam smiled back, his eyes lighting up. “You need any other advice? Mickey, I’d love to hear what unified aesthetic you’re aiming for with the décor.”

The rest of the afternoon was filled with the rhythm of smooth paint rollers sliding against the wall, the old radio in the corner of the room (that had probably been there for decades) turned to a low hum— Liam and Lip helped them shuffle through their belongings in the trash bags, moving the mattress to the center of the room and not even bothering to cover the already-stained hardwood floors with a drop cloth before they coated the studio’s walls in thick layers of paint.

Mickey and Liam were tackling the kitchen, priming the walls in a comfortable silence. Frank’s death had hit Liam pretty hard, and Mickey could only imagine how fucked up it was, to have all the heaviness and all those complicated clumps of emotion that came with Terry dying inside you when you were only a kid— losing a shitty father was almost harder than losing a good one.

But Liam seemed enthusiastic about helping with the renovation efforts— he covered the walls dutifully in multiple coats of primer, ran to the corner store to pick up canned pints of “Burnt Ember,” and even offered Mickey advice on various wallpaper swatches for a feature wall in the studio (which Mickey actually appreciated, because he was still learning all this shit and fuck if he knew what a “feature wall” was or how to make it look good). Liam also gave his review of the various pieces of furniture Mickey had circled in an Ikea catalogue with a black Sharpie. Mickey was flipping through the catalogue, Liam methodically painting a final coat of paint in the kitchen beside him in a comfortable silence, when Mickey tuned in to Lip and Ian’s conversation from where they were painting in the main room.

“So, you guys are really doing this shit, huh? Running the Alibi?”

Ian paused, presumably taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Don’t know, man. The neighborhood’s changing. My bet is the crowds’ll get thinner and thinner.” Lip paused, ripping a paper towel to wipe his hands. “You sure that you and Mick have thought this through?”

Mickey tried to hold back an audible scoff from the kitchen. There were a number of things he could’ve yelled from the other room— for starters, when in the last 12 months had fucking Phillip Gallagher thought anything through— but he decided to hold his tongue, listening for Ian’s reply.

“Jesus, Lip. Yes. We’re already living in the place, not gonna give it up now.”

A pause.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.”

Mickey could hear Lip twisting open the soda can he’d been drinking from.

“I don’t know, man. It’s my job to care about this shit, isn’t it? I thought Fiona taking over the laundromat was a bad idea, and she still did it anyways.”

Ian gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah.”

The soft tempo of the paint rollers on the wall continued.

“You sure this is what you wanna do with your life?”

Mickey felt that twist in his stomach again— the ice cold one, the feeling of fear that always sunk into his bones in moments like this, when he knew other people saw what he saw: that Ian Gallagher was far, far too good for him, and that all Mickey doing was ensnaring him in the dirty streets of the Southside and holding him back, when everyone else was moving on with their lives into gentrified apartment complexes.

But he’d heard the smile in Ian’s voice as he replied.

“Absolutely.”

Finally, after a long fucking day, Lip and Liam had left the creaky apartment— the place was looking pretty good, the kitchen and the main room both painted, and Lip had even been able to do a bit of work on the plumbing and fixed the leaky sputter of the upstairs bathroom faucet (he had also tried to convince Ian to install some sort of fucking backsplash thing in the kitchen, a multi-day project that they’d both resisted). Now, with Lip and Liam out the door, he and Ian were ready to crash. Mickey strode across the room and opened all the windows as wide as they could possibly go, trying to dispel all the paint fumes and let in gusts of humid summer air so they could collapse on the mattress. They probably could’ve crashed at one of the other Gallaghers’ places for the night if they felt suffocated by the fumes— but for now the light evening breeze was quickly drying the paint, circulating the almost-too-small room.

Across the room Ian flopped onto the mattress, a ridiculous streak of gray paint smeared across his forehead. Mickey smirked, and crawled into bed next to him, sitting so his legs were pressed against Ian’s upper torso.

“I can’t wait to get a fucking bedframe,” Ian breathed out—his face buried in the pillow, his eyelids drooping. “And a new mattress. Not this shitty one with stains all over it.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey smirked, reaching a hand over to card through Ian’s hair.

“Mm.” Ian hummed happily in reply as he kept his eyes closed, probably starting to drift off to sleep.

While was probably a horrible idea— at the very least, Ian should change out of his paint-streaked clothes and wash his fucking face. There were flecks of paint all over his face and in his hair, mingling and dried in his copper curls, from when he and Mickey had gotten into a moderate paint-splattering war like a couple of teenage boys when they were trying to paint the living room walls later in the day. He prodded Ian in his side, who was now laying curled beside him with a dreamy fucking smile on his face.

“Hey. Mumbles. Get the fuck up. You’re gonna fall asleep with that toxic shit all over your face.”

Ian yawned, his nose crinkling. “Don’t care,” he said into the pillow.

“C’mon, Ian.”

And all at once Ian’s eyes were open, and he was crawling his way on top of Mickey, boxing him in with his arms on both sides of Mickey’s head. Mickey felt a gust of air whoosh out of his lungs in surprise—and in an instant he was reminded of when they used to live at the Milkovich house, in his shitty bedroom with far too many bad memories for Ian’s presence to completely tip the scale and outweigh them with the good ones, when Ian would be laying sleepy beside him and they’d get into little wrestling matches and tussles like this, with grips of hair and breathed out “C’mere, army!”s. There was the same energy buzzing between them in this moment—but god, they were so fucking different than they’d been then. They were fuller, more solid; Ian was measured in a way that still made Mickey’s toes curl when he looked at him and compared him to the scrawny and glassy-eyed teenager that he’d been, to the hollow frame he’d been on the worst days when Mickey placed a hand on a too-cold ribcage curled under thin blankets and run a hand through his hair and whispered “please,” trying to will the light back into Ian’s eyes.

But that light was there all the goddamn time now— and it was there right now as Ian dipped down and kissed at Mickey’s neck, Mickey breathing out as a no-longer-sleepy Ian made his way downward.

He guessed Ian could probably just shower all the dried paint out of his hair tomorrow morning.

Tuesday was a blur of getting ready for Ian’s idea to host fucking 80s night, and getting ready for Franny to stay— Mickey had thought the extent of Ian’s plan for this party thing was going to just be playing some tunes and charging a little extra for beers, but apparently Ian wanted to go all out. He’d had Debbie make some sort of poster with a colorful font and stapled them all over random bulletin boards and telephone poles on the Southside, and posted a bunch of shit on her Instagram (which had a weirdly large following because of her whole “hot handywoman” thing, which was still a complete fucking mystery to Mickey). Mickey wasn’t sure that Ian’s plan of throwing a party at their random Southside bar on a Friday night was going to fix all of their financial problems— but hey, if they needed cash then they needed cash. And while Mickey’s preferred way of procuring cash was heading down to the local corner store with a gun stowed at his waistband, for once in his life he was trying to do this shit right. So maybe his goody-two-shoes husband was making him soft (he definitely, definitely fucking was)— but when his jackass ginger giant of a husband looked at him with fucking puppy dog eyes and asked him to go along with this plan, instead of Mickey’s not-quite-joking suggestions that they just rob the bodega two doors over instead to fix all of the Alibi’s money problems, there really wasn’t much that Mickey could do about it.

He and Ian were wiping the bar, Mickey mentally running through the list of shit they had to order to prep for Friday’s crowd, when their phone screens both illuminated with text messages on the bartop.

Debbie (2:34 PM): everyone make sure to post the 80s night flyer on ur socials!!!!

Lip (2:34 PM): What the fuck are socials

Debbie (2:35 PM): 🙄

Debbie (2:35 PM): u aren’t an old man, phillip. instagram, twitter, even facebook for dinosaurs like u🦖

Liam (2:35 PM): 👍👍 Already posted.

Liam (2:36 PM): But I don’t know how useful advertising to a bunch of 11 year olds will be…

Carl (2:36 PM): me and a bunch of the boys r gonna roll through- get ready to rage motherfuckers!!!

Ian (2:37 PM): ❤️❤️

Ian (2:37 PM): Thanks for all your help Debs

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Sappy motherfucker.”

He decided to reply to the groupchat in the way that he knew best:

Mickey (2:37 PM): 🖕

Mickey remembered the first day that he’d been initiated into the Gallagher family group chat, nearly a week after returning from their “honeymoon” in the dingy motel that smelled like mildew and cigarette smoke— he and Ian had been back at the Gallagher house for about a week, sleeping in most long lazy mornings and getting up to… various activities. It was one of those lazy mornings in bed when Ian had gotten decidedly distracted from said activities by the series of notifications that were lighting up Mickey’s phone on the nightstand from the groupchat Gallagher Fam:

Debbie (11:34 AM): the jonas brothers are playing upstairs. everybody take cover

Lip (11:34 AM): Thank god I don’t live there anymore

Debbie (11:35 AM): also welcome to the group chat mickey xoxo

Liam (11:35 AM): Noise-cancelling headphones are on. An excellent investment

Carl (11:35 AM): i’m just seeking shelter & keeping it real in the basement 😎

Mickey had never been part of a fucking family group chat before—he’d barely been involved in any group chats, since the extent of his smartphone use before prison was nonexistent, and he’d relied on burner phones to do all of Terry’s shady bidding after he got out of jail up until the wedding. He’d used some of their wedding cash to get himself an iPhone—even though he barely fucking knew how to use it half the time, except for shitty multiplayer games he and Ian liked to mess around with— but he’d barely had an excuse to text anyone except Sandy about various wedding logistics, and obviously Ian.

But now he was crashing with Ian’s family, and he and Ian were fucking married, and he was a part of this shit for real— it was group chat official. Which strangely felt all the more real, even though Mickey already had a fucking ring on his finger. And he’d never tell a fucking soul, not even Ian, but it made something warm pool in his stomach— to have siblings to fucking banter with about who ate the last of the potato chips, or who could pick Franny up from school, or whining about whoever was making too much noise, in the same ways he and Mandy and his brother used to get on each other’s fucking nerves.

Ian smiled down at his phone at Mickey’s reply to Debbie’s nudge about the posters. “Excellent contribution. Thanks for showing Debs how grateful you are.”

Mickey brought his emoji to life and flipped Ian off. “You’re welcome.”

Ian bit at his thumbnail, looking down at his phone. “Debbie says she can get us a karaoke machine for Friday. That might be kind of fun, right?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Whatever you think, man. It’s your idea.”

Ian started tapping away at his phone, and Mickey turned back to tidying the bar, the rows and columns of those fucking black binders from the Alibi’s storeroom still lingering in the murky corners of his mind. He didn’t want to blow too much money on this shit— he had no idea how much a karaoke machine costed, but it probably wasn’t cheap. Why the fuck couldn’t they just steal one? Mickey gritted his teeth. He could crunch numbers any day, could make enough bank to stay afloat— but something about this, about running a fully legit business, was making him start to feel like he was being pulled underwater.

Mickey stayed tense the rest of the day, feeling like a bundle of fucking nerves without really knowing why— there was just so much going on, between moving and painting and Ian’s nervous excitement at planning this event bullshit. They’d both stumbled through the slow day at the bar, and now were collapsed in bed for the evening; Mickey was scrolling through various furniture store websites, weighing their options, while Ian was curled next to him, talking about something in a low voice that Mickey wasn’t really paying attention to.

“Sorry, what?”

Ian breathed out and smirked. “Nevermind. You weren’t listening.”

Mickey scrubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry, man. Just distracted.”

“Why’re you distracted?”

“Just thinking about all this shit. Furniture shopping, unpacking, whatever.”

Ian smiled. “Yeah? We can probably just pick stuff out when we go in person, we don’t have to overthink it.”

Mickey blew out a breath. “Yeah. Guess so.” He stretched his arms over his head— when the fuck did his shoulders get so tight?

“You ready for bed?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab the light.”

Mickey stood to pull the string for the bare lightbulb hanging directly above them, then thudded onto his stomach on the mattress. Immediately he heard Ian rustling under the sheets, moving closer to him, and eventually lifting on his arms to hover over Mickey’s back.

“The fuck’re you doing?”

“Relax, Mick. Just take a deep breath. Lemme take care of you.”

Mickey blew a breath out of his mouth into the pillow. “Not in the mood right now, Ian. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Not like that— just lemme make your shoulders hurt less, at least.”

Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath on the back of his neck as Ian settled, sitting back on Mickey’s upper thighs and leaning over him. He ran his hands along Mickey’s upper shoulders, delicately rubbing his thumbs up and down near his spine and trying to work at the permanent knots there.

“R’you giving me a fucking massage?” Mickey mumbled the words into the pillow, letting his eyelids droop. It did feel pretty fucking good, if he was being honest—the tension was draining from where he’d been holding it in his shoulders all week long, absorbing the impact of all the changes swirling around them and trying to keep them both afloat.

“Mm.” Ian hummed in reply, working his hands down to Mickey’s lower back and digging his thumbs in right where there were bundles of dull pain. Mickey almost flinched—not because it hurt, really, but because Ian’s fingertips gliding across his skin felt so fucking good.

He remembered the first 17 years of his life, the years when he’d been touch-starved without even realizing it, when the only touches his nerve-endings knew were high-impact beat downs and fists connecting with his jawbone. Milkoviches didn’t fucking hug, aside from a casual slap on the shoulder or side-hug when one of them was released from juvie—and even after he and Ian got together it took fucking forever to know what being held, what being gently touched, felt like. Those first few times when Ian had dragged his fingers over Mickey’s hipbones when they were fucking made Mickey nearly shudder, his nerve endings sparking like goddamn fireworks; and he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. It was like his body was going on alert, like there was an invader breaching and he was always used to bracing for impact; but despite himself, all Mickey wanted was more— all he wanted was to press his cheek to Gallagher’s fucking jawbone and just keep it there and breathe in the scent of him, absorbing the warmth of his skin.

He still wasn’t totally used to this shit, the luxury of a warm body next to his after those years in a narrow prison cot, and on the run— but as he drifted off to sleep, his shoulders now unclenched and Ian’s warm, sturdy limbs circled around him, he thanked god, if god even did fucking exist anyways, that living in the shitty apartment over the Alibi was where he ended up in his life right now, with Ian by his side.

The next evening, just as the sun was setting pink outside the windows and Mickey was finishing up organizing everything behind the bar, Debbie towed Franny into the main room of the Alibi, wearing some sort of pink frilly shirt and carrying a kid-sized backpack with her pajamas and toothbrush inside.

“Thanks for watching Franny tonight, you guys are the best!” Debbie had barely set foot in the door before she was out it again and letting it swing shut behind her. Seconds later, Mickey could hear the distinct roaring of a too-expensive car engine coming from the street outside the bar.

Ian peered out the front window to inspected Heidi’s ride. “Jesus. It’s some sort of Ferrari convertible.” He scooped up Franny’s backpack from the floor, slinging the comically small bag onto his broad shoulders as he crouched to give Franny a hug. “Hey Fran, it’s so good to see you!”

“I missed you, Uncle Ian!” Franny enthusiastically squeezed Ian back.

Ian pressed a peck to the top of her head. “Missed you too. We’ve gotta have a talk with your mommy when she gets back about child road safety. That Ferrari was noticeably lacking a car seat.”

“Uncle Mickey!!!” Franny nearly squealed as she spotted Mickey behind the bar, running up and trying to jump up onto a stool so she could reach him. Ian laughed and lifted Franny so she was perched on a stool, her legs dangling as she reached forward. Mickey reached out an arm to fist-bump Franny, the best he could do with the bartop between them.

“Hey there, Little Red. Missed ya.”

Franny immediately looked Mickey up and down, like she was assessing if he’d changed at all since she last saw him. Her brows furrowed—then finally she spoke.

“Uncle Mickey, I have a question.”

Mickey reached across the bar to ruffle her hair. “What’s up, kid?”

She paused. “Can I rip the sleeves off my shirt too, like you?”

Mickey chuckled in surprise. He was wearing one of his flannel tank-tops with the arms ripped off—a white trash summer look in every way. “Let’s see what we can do. I think Uncle Ian’s got some old shirts packed upstairs that we can mess around with.”

Luckily, the bar was totally empty for the evening, aside from their three or four regulars— so Ian and Franny got to go upstairs and play dress-up while Mickey dealt with shit at the bar for an hour or so, deciding they’d close early so they could pay attention to Franny.

“Hey, Mick! We’ve got a surprise for you.” Ian’s voice wafted down from the back stairway that led up to the apartment.

“What’s up?”

“One sec. Stay downstairs.” Mickey could hear two sets of pattering footsteps coming down the staircase—and Franny dashed into the room, wearing a very baggy white tank top that reached her knees and an oversized flannel with the sleeves ripped off, an exact replica of Mickey’s outfit.

“Look, Uncle Mickey! I have an outfit like you! Now we can play liquor store robbery.” She looked at him seriously—then her face contorted, her brows furrowed and her lip sticking out in a face that Ian had taken to calling the “Milkovich scowl,” a trait that Franny had adopted in her many hours of playing “robbers” in the backyard with Mickey with her fake guns he’d gotten her for her birthday.

“Gimme all of your money!”

Mickey chuckled, and threw his hands up in surrender. “You got me, Wonder Woman.”

Ian walked towards the bar, lifting Franny up so she was perched on the countertop. “You like Franny’s new look? She was pretty insistent about wearing the tank top too.”

But Franny was still peering over at Mickey, like something had caught her eye.

“Uncle Mickey, can I have drawings on my fingers too? Like you? All the real robbers on TV have those.”

This time it was Ian who was laughing. “Oh my god. Debbie’s gonna kill us. If Franny gets knuckle tattoos by the time she’s seventeen, I’m blaming you.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Ain’t nothing wrong with family tradition. Fuck you.”

Ian tapped his fingers on the counter. “Wait, I have an idea. Franny, wait here.” Ian rushed upstairs, and came back down holding the black Sharpie that had Mickey had been using to circle pictures in the Ikea catalogue.

“Here, hold out your hand Fran.”

Franny held out her hand for Ian to hold—and he started to draw blocky letters between each of her knuckles. When he finished, he held Franny’s hand up for Mickey to see the doodled serifs, smiling sheepishly.

“L T T L R E D ♡”

Mickey grinned. “Now you’re a real robber, Rockstar.” Franny looked at her hands and smiled contentedly, running her thumb over the letters.

“L. T. T. L. I know all these letters. They’re different from Uncle Mickey’s. Mommy said his say ‘fuck.’”

Ian snorted. “Yeah, you get your own special letters Franny. They say ‘little red.’”

Franny beamed. “That’s what Uncle Mickey calls me!”

“You got it, kiddo.”

The rest of the afternoon involved many rounds of playing “liquor store robbery,” and Ian lifting up Franny to “help” behind the bar by pulling the lever of the beer tap— and by the early evening, when even fucking Kermit and Tommy had gone, Ian had the idea to make a fort out of the leftover empty inventory boxes, and Franny had repeatedly busted through the tower of boxes and shouted “Put your hands in the air!” as she pretended to blow up fictional liquor store walls.

Now it was late and they were all upstairs—Franny had crashed after dinnertime, after bouncing on the bed with a sugar high from the Poptarts Mickey had snuck her after dinner (to supplement some bullshit pasta thing that Ian had forced Mickey to feed her, even though he never remembered wanting to eat that shit when he was five— he practically lived on Honey Buns and pork rinds from the nearby gas station).

They still didn’t have furniture, and at one point they’d perched on the mattress so Mickey could show Franny videos of monster trucks on his phone— and now Franny was totally passed out against Mickey’s chest, breathing those raspy, loud breaths kids make when they’re deeply asleep.

Ian came in the room from the semi-divided wall of the kitchen, wiping his hands after finishing rinsing the dishes (two plates, and a bowl that Franny ate from because they’d only swiped two of everything from the Gallagher house last week); and Mickey saw Ian’s lips curve upward in a knowing smile as he noticed Franny curled in the bedsheets, half-leaning on Mickey’s chest. Franny and Mickey were smack in the middle of the mattress, taking up most of the room; but Ian crouched to sit on the edge of the mattress beside Mickey, hooking his chin on Mickey’s shoulder casually as he peered over at Franny, still wearing her oversized flannel and smudged knuckle tattoos.

“Guess our babysitting duties are over.” He breathed out, trying not to unsettle Franny’s steady breathing. “Hope we didn’t corrupt her too much.”

Mickey scoffed. “Debbie’s dating someone who’s more of a fuck-up than we’ll ever be. Don’t think the ball’s really in our court on that one.”

“Fair.”

Franny scrunched her nose in her sleep, sighing out heavily before nestling deeper into the bedsheets.

“I kinda missed her, man.”

Mickey was surprised by the words as he heard them coming out of his mouth— they were true, but he hadn’t even voiced them to himself until now. As shitty as he’d always been with kids, he had to admit that goofing around with Franny was pretty fucking fun.

Ian smiled from where his mouth was pressed against Mickey’s shoulder. “Yeah. Me too.”

There was a silence, the room filled with the soft sound of Franny’s steady breathing. And then:

“Maybe… we’ll have a kid of our own sometime.”

Immediately, Mickey felt his gut lurch. It wasn’t like they hadn’t talked about this shit—they definitely had, in the abstract moments before the wedding; before everything blew up in their face and the pandemic took hold and any thought of kids was pushed way, way to the sidelines. And it wasn’t like Mickey was avoiding the topic— but he wasn’t exactly bringing it up, either, and neither was Ian.

Mickey thought back to that moment before the wedding, back to the hushed “you want kids?” Ian had placed between them— and how in that moment Mickey had known how much Ian wanted kids, how much Ian constantly cared for other people, how his voice got all soft and mushy around the edges in the vicinity of a baby. He knew how much Ian wanted this— but even broaching the topic made Mickey’s muscles start to clench.

Mickey tried to keep his cool—even though he felt the tides starting to roll inside of him, threatening to pull him under.

“I’d be a shitty dad, man.”

Ian’s head pulled away from where it had been nestled against the crook of Mickey’s neck—and Mickey turned his head to meet Ian’s piercing gaze.

“No you wouldn’t.” Ian’s voice was soft, surprised.

Mickey swallowed. “What if I like. Beat it. Or—” he cut himself off, knowing his voice was starting to waver.

Ian’s voice was firm when he replied. “You won’t. You’re great with Franny.” Ian paused.” “You were great with Yev.”

And there it was—the other fucking elephant in the room, beside all of Mickey’s other daddy issues; the fact that Mickey already was a father, was forced to be a father against his own will, giving him some sort of complex that he didn’t even have the energy to dig into about the potential of scooping up some kid to raise with Ian…. when there was already one out there with his gene pool that he didn’t want, that he couldn’t want, whose existence was forced onto him at gunpoint and who he didn’t have the strength to take care of.

Mickey felt Ian’s hand, feather light, tracing down his side— pulling him out of the current of his internal monologue. Ian’s hand hooked around his hip; a touch to root him, giving Mickey solid ground to hold on to.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“You’re gonna be a great dad.”

Mickey swallowed down the lump in his throat—and with it he tried to swallow down whatever bullshit was holding him back from letting himself have this. He thought about Ian—despite all his own reservations, he knew Ian must be having the same type of feelings about all of this shit; Ian was the one who had stolen Yev, who had worked so hard to get himself to the person he was today—a stable place where he was allowed to dream about being a parent, allowed to dream about shit like this.

“I hate this.”

Mickey didn’t really know what he was referring to in particular as he said the words—he hated all of this, he hated the churning emotions inside him. He felt so fucking uncomfortable—but that was always the first thing he felt, wasn’t it, when there was something deeper inside? It was the first thing he’d felt when he started to fall for Ian, when he started to realize he much preferred scrawny redheads to the busty figures with long hair; the pushing and heaving of no no no from somewhere in his ribcage, because he knew how much letting himself have this was going to hurt, how much shit he was going to have to wade through.

But he’d fucking done it—and look where he was now: Ian curled against his back, their fucking niece sound asleep beside him.

“Hey.” Ian’s voice was soft, nearly tickling Mickey’s ears. “There’s no rush for any of this shit. I’m just talking about… big picture. Eventually. When we’ve got all our shit settled.”

There it was again—that word, the one Ian had been saying all the time lately, the one that had been radiating out of his pores. Settled.

Mickey clearing his throat, trying to dispel the huskiness he knew would be there when he spoke. “Yeah. Maybe someday.”

He looked down at his hands. He knew that saying that wasn’t enough— Ian had to know how much he meant it.

“I— I wanna give you that shit. Someday.”

Mickey knew that was still an inadequate expression of everything he was feeling, of how much he wished he could just race carefreely into making fucking forts and playing dress-up with a kid of their own; but he also knew that for tonight, Ian understood. He knew in the way Ian pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw, and said into the silence of the room:

“You’re so fucking good at taking care of people, Mick.”

Mickey let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. They were going to do this—someday.

“You know… now that we’ve got our own place.” Ian’s voice trailed off.

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Well— we could be good millennials and start with a dog. Y’know, as a practice run. Get your fucking Milkovich pit bulls or whatever.”

Mickey instantly felt whatever remaining tense energy that had been clinging to him dissipate. He felt a grin creep onto his face. “Hell yeah. I’m in.”

Ian pecked his shoulder. “Cool. We can check out shelters sometime next week.”

Mickey shook his head, still smiling in relief. “A pit bull, I can handle. We’re gonna treat her like a fucking princess. Who needs kids anyways?”

Ian smiled back. “The first step in starting our own Southside family.”

Mickey’s insides instantly got warm and gushy at the words— and again, it was that mix of no no no and you don’t deserve this alongside something deeper, something more solid. He tried to do what Ian always told him to do, in the moments that he felt like this: he forced a breath in, forced himself to expand his ribcage. He forced himself to think:

You deserve this.

The next day had been uneventful, other than Franny’s tearful goodbye— and now it was the early afternoon on Friday, far too early for any sort of rush. Once again only Tommy and fucking Kermit were seated at the bar, but today he and Ian were barely paying attention to them, despite Tommy’s halfhearted attempts to drag Mickey into some sort of bullshit banter (as much as Tommy said he preferred silence at the bar, everyone knew that was a lie. Why the fuck else would be have been coming here every day for the last eleven years?).

Today, Ian had dragged a chalkboard out from the clutter of the dingy back closet of the Alibi, a sandwich board meant to be placed on the curb to promote the bar that looked like it had hardly been used. Ian continued to shuffle through the various boxes in the back room, making a shit ton of noise, until he finally found whatever else he’d been looking for.

“Aha!”

He held up a bent cardboard box of multicolor sidewalk chalk— half empty, and half broken, but it would get the job done.

He strode over to the bar, laying the chalkboard on it— then turned to Mickey, folding his arms in front of him.

“Alright, bartender extraordinaire. What drinks should we make for 80s night?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, puffing out a breath. “I don’t fucking know. Most of the guys who come in on Fridays just drink beer. We don’t gotta overcomplicate shit.”

Ian pressed his lips together, contemplative and looking down at the blank canvas of the chalkboard. “I’m not saying we should force out the regulars, because that’s definitely not what we’re going for with the event— but it’d be nice to have a couple of new things, in case the new people in the neighborhood do some by. Nothing too fancy or frilly or whatever.”

Ian dug in the cardboard box, plucking out a piece of chalk.

“And we should make our own signature drinks anyways, since we’re taking over the place. Make our mark on the Alibi.” He grinned. “Got any fun drink name ideas?”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, and felt the corners of his lips turn upwards in an amused smile against his will, thawing. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”

Ian continued smiling. “How about… the Milkovich Mojito.”

Mickey puffed out a breath of air, shoving Ian in the chest and furrowing his brows. “No fucking way.”

Ian just waggled his eyebrows. “C’mon, we own the place. It’ll just be a mojito with a shit ton of rum, only enough for someone with Milkovich-level tolerance. People will think it’s funny.”

Mickey felt his eyebrows lift upwards a bit, and he could see from the expression on Ian’s face that he’d lost this one. “Fine.”

Ian smirked, penciling in “Milkovich Mojito” on the chalkboard and drawing a little design around it. Mickey forgot how good Ian was at this— at the little details like this, at making shit look nice.

Ian rose from where he was hunched over the chalkboard when his masterpiece was completed, hands on his hips. “Alright. What else?”

Mickey shrugged. “I don’t know. How about ‘just fucking beer’?”

Ian laughed, and a warm feeling pooled in Mickey’s stomach despite himself. “Yeah. We should spell that out on the menu, so people know that’s our standard.” He leaned to write “JUST FUCKING BEER” on the chalkboard, drawing a little cartoon beer stein with foam on the top next to it. Mickey reached out, smudging a bit of the chalk of the drawing to annoy Ian, just because he could.

Ian swatted his arm away. “Hey! No touching the masterpiece.” He drew over the part Mickey smudged as best he could, biting his lip in concentration. Fuckin’ dork.

Ian stood tall again, admiring the finished product. “There. One more?”

Mickey shrugged again, feeling utterly out of ideas. He could balance a budget, sure, but he was useless with all the creative shit like this.

Ian bit his lip again, thinking. “What’re even mixed drinks people like? Sex on the beach?”

Mickey smirked. “There ain’t a lot of beaches in Chicago, man.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess it’s more like ‘sex behind a dumpster.’ Or ‘sex on your twin bed at your family’s house.’”

Mickey grinned, catching Ian’s drift. “Sex in the dugouts.”

Ian laughed, then made a little gesture with his hands like inspiration had struck. “Mick, I think we have our final drink name.” He turned to write it on the chalkboard.

“What the fuck are we gonna put in it? Just a fuckin’ lukewarm beer?”

Ian smirked, looking off dreamily. “Ah, memories.”

Mickey prodded him in the sternum. “You’re a fucking sap.” He shoved Ian over. “Here, let me write this one.” He took the chalk from Ian’s hand. “No peeking.”

He scratched on the chalkboard for a moment, then stood back to reveal his work. “Ta-da.”

In scratchy handwriting, not unlike the “STAY THE FUCK OUT” sign that used to be taped to his door, read “SEX IN THE DUGOUTS”—and next to it was two drawings, of a cartoon dick and two stick figures fucking doggy-style.

Ian grinned wide. “It’s perfect. Definitely captures the vibe of the new owners.”

Mickey just smiled back.

It was 6 p.m. now, and the bar was just about ready—Ian had compulsively swept the floor during the lull in the afternoon, even though it would be dirtied and scuffed within seconds of the usual Friday blue-collar crowd streaming in through the doors, and Mickey was perched on a stool at the end of the bar, laboring over his playlist. He usually didn’t overthink this shit— he’d included all the classics, from Bon Jovi to Queen to fucking Cyndi Lauper, but there was something so public about he and Ian running this thing now, and about throwing a loud event to proclaim it, that make Mickey’s stomach start to do somersaults for some reason as the first huddled crowd of Southsiders shuffled their way in through the door.

The bar did look good— Ian had got some sort of lighting gels to put over the lamps in the Alibi, and the room’s lighting was tinted a suave blue color, making the small space feel a little hipper, a little cooler, while still retaining its comforting dingy feel. It almost reminded Mickey of the soft, colorful lighting in that random Westside bar they’d gotten engaged in, with the shitty overpriced beer and the sparkly fucking lights when they’d watched that god-awful harp band with Barry or whatever the fuck his name was— but the lighting here looked cooler, more deliberate, and cast a calculated glow across the room that added to the vibe. The bass was thrumming low through the speakers Ian had rented from somewhere— right now it was just playing some mellow Joy Division song as people continued streaming into the bar.

Ian had crept upstairs at some point, probably to change out of whatever sweaty t-shirt he’d been wearing all day; and Mickey saw a flash of red hair emerging from the stairway now, turning the corner to stride into the dark room.

“Hey! Oh my god, it’s great to see you guys!”

Immediately Ian was swept away by some group of people in their mid-twenties near the swinging door that led to the back of the bar, who were chattering away about how they’d seen the poster on Debbie’s Instagram or some shit. Mickey assumed they were some people Ian had known when he’d been locked up, one of the unfamiliar faces from their wedding that got involved with Ian’s “Gay Jesus” bullshit—and as much as Mickey knew Ian’s relationship with those figures from a very different time in his life was complicated to say the least, it was nice to see Ian leaning comfortably against the bar, chatting away with someone that wasn’t him or Lip— chatting with friends. Looking settled.

Mickey smirked, knowing his gaze was lingering for too long when Ian locked eyes with him from across the bar, tilting his head towards the stairway. Giving Mickey a chance to go upstairs, to freshen up, to take a deep breath if he wanted to.

Fuck it. Mickey strode across the bar, heading upstairs to the quiet sanctuary of the studio and its fresh-painted walls. He shuffled through the various shirts and baggy jeans that were now in their designated-clothes-pile in the corner of the room, at least until they got a dresser and hangers and all that shit. He decided to peel off his sweaty tank top and change into a blue Hawaiian-print shirt, the one he’d swiped from the laundry room at the yuppie fucking Westside apartment complex before he’d burned that bridge, to amp himself up and fit the vibe downstairs. The shirt was only a little bit creased from being shoved in a pile in the corner of the room, which felt like a bonus— and Mickey smoothed a hand through his hair and fixed the collar of the shirt as he caught his own eye in the cracked bathroom mirror. There weren’t lots of times Mickey really gave a shit about what he wore—he and Ian pretty much lived in tank tops and boxers at home, and tank tops and denim at the bar especially on hot fucking days like these ones— but he had to admit that it did feel pretty nice to put on a shirt with a collar, a shirt with bright colors and patterns on it that, fuck it, he knew made his eyes pop—just because he wanted to have fun, just because he could.

He ruffled his hair one last time, then clomped back down the back staircase towards the light chatter swirling in the room below. Immediately he noticed the line at the bar starting to grow, and walked with intention over to behind the bar to start taking orders from a mixed sea of regulars and younger, new faces.

“Looking pretty festive there, Mick.”

Mickey held up a middle finger to where Tommy was seated on his usual stool. “Fuck you. I look hot and you know it.”

“You definitely do.” Ian slid behind him, speaking low into Mickey’s ear and his hands gliding to bracket Mickey’s waist for a moment as he shuffled by to pass a beer to a customer, then walked to the end of the bar and start to take more orders without a glance back. Mickey felt his neck flush red, just for a second— Ian was always just saying shit like that, about how good Mickey was, whenever he looked nice. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

After a few hours the party was fully humming, and both he and Ian could barely glance up from the bar because of how many people were streaming through and placing their orders. Courtesy of Debbie, a karaoke machine was up and running in the corner of the room, the speakers blasting a series of poppy instrumentals across the small space—and as much as Mickey hated to admit it, he had to say that this event bullshit was actually a pretty fucking good idea. There were a handful of new faces in the crowd, a bunch of fucking millennials with man-buns and Ray-Bans and brimmed hats; but most of the crowd was the typical neighborhood crew, blue-collar workers with beer guts who were dropping slightly more money than their usual tab on an extra beer, and walking sloshed to the corner of the room to serenade their buddies with “Livin’ on a Prayer” (which made Ian stare across the bar at Mickey with a knowing smile between pouring drink orders).

At some point in the evening Debbie rolled in with a group of people from some gay bar she’d been pregaming her evening at, and Carl came by with some of his cop buddies; and all in all, the place had all the makings of a good fucking party. Which meant they were making good cash—beyond the wads of bills left on the bartop as tips, all the millennial jokers filtering through the space were surprisingly biting on the overpriced cocktails Ian had concocted, and they were racking up a good profit as the night went on.

Maybe they could fucking run this place after all.

Right now, a very sloshed Debbie was singing on the karaoke machine in the corner, belting out the final verse of “I Will Always Love You” and practically eye-fucking her new Grand Theft Auto girlfriend— an image that Mickey was trying not to pay attention to at all costs as he scanned the room, trying to mentally calculate just how well they’d done for the night. There’d been a good crowd streaming in for hours— and now the numbers were finally dwindling, and at last he and Ian could finally slow their pace for a bit, instead of being pulled in a million goddamn directions to wipe up beer spills or clear tables or refill the ice cubes in the freezer.

“Heeeyyyyy everyone! Listen up!” Debbie’s muffled voice took over the fade of the final chords of the song, her mouth a little too close to the microphone and making it screech as she spoke out to the crowd in the bar. “I just wanna say a shoutout to Ian and Mickey for taking over the Alibi! And for being the heroes that kept this place alive!” She teetered slightly. “Southside forever!”

Mickey scowled, and locked eyes with an amused Ian across the bar. “Control your fucking sister, man.”

Ian shrugged. “Eh. She’s the one that helped plan half this shit. Let Debs have some fun.”

Debbie pointed a finger over to where Ian and Mickey were standing behind the bar. “Everyone give them a round of applause! C’mon, they deserve it! C’mon!”

There were a couple of chuckles from the crowd, at Debbie’s deeply inebriated state as she tried to put the microphone back in its stand and drag herself away from the small TV showing song lyrics— but then, one by one, people at the bar started to clap— regulars, random newcomers, and even Tommy gave a little whoop as the cheers grew louder and louder and started to erupt.

Mickey just rolled his eyes, but Ian straightened his spine and smiled as he addressed the crowd. “Couldn’t have done it without all of you guys!” He wiped his hands with a towel, and went back to wiping down the bar as the applause settled.

Just then, Debbie turned and fumbled to grab the microphone once more. “Wait! Ian, Mickey! Come up here and sing a song.”

If Mickey thought he was scowling the first time Debbie had stumbled her way into the mic, now he was on a whole different level. He flashed a glance to Ian, and saw the sappy grin starting to grow on his face, like it always did when Ian had some dumbass idea. Jesus Christ.

Mickey needed to pump the brakes on this one fast. “No fucking way, Gallagher.”

Ian stepped closer to Mickey, reaching a placating hand onto his elbow. “C’mon, Mick. It’ll be fun.” Ian raised his eyebrows— and his stupid fucking eyes were shining again, doing that fucking thing where Mickey could feel in his bones that Ian was so ridiculously happy that they got to do sappy, mundane shit like this together…

Mickey blew out a breath. “I gotta do a shot or some shit before we do this.”

Ian’s grin grew ten sizes as he dropped the towel hanging from his shoulder onto the bar and swiftly turned to pour Mickey a shot of Jameson. Mickey’s frown deepened as he lifted his head back to pour the liquid fire down the back of his throat, bracing himself for battle; of course his stupid fucking American-Idol-wannabe husband couldn’t resist a call to do goddamn karaoke. Mickey blamed himself—he should’ve known Ian anywhere in the 1-mile radius of a karaoke machine would inevitably be a recipe for disaster.

Ian strode past the length of the bar and toward the corner of the Alibi where the illuminated screen of the karaoke machine was sitting there waiting— Mickey trudged behind him, shooting a glance at where Tommy and Kermit were seated on their regular stools.

“You two are in charge of the bar for 2 fucking minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” Kermit raised his hands in surrender, and Tommy just raised an eyebrow.

Ian was already punching at the little arrows on the machine. “What song d’you wanna do?”

“I could give less than a fuck, man. This is your fucking idea.”

Ian just flashed him a grin as he scrolled through the preselected song options. “Here, let’s do this one.”

He handed Mickey a microphone, and reached over to grab the second mic from Debbie’s hand (who was now successfully being corralled back to a booth by Heidi).

Instantly, the techno intro rhythms to the song began—and Ian started bobbing his head, causing the onlookers at the bar to laugh and one person to whistle. Mickey just shoved his upper arm.

“I fucking hate you so much.”

Ian just raised his eyebrows, and in a very off-key voice, started to sing:

“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar

When I met you

I picked you out, I shook up and turned you around

Turned you into someone new”

Mickey felt his heart thudding in his chest—and fuck that. He owned the fucking bar, he could fucking sing with his goddamn husband if he wanted to. Fuck whatever everyone else was thinking.

So when the first verse ended, and quickly streamed into the second, Mickey clutched the microphone and half-spoke, half-sang the illuminated words on the screen:

“Now five years later on you’ve got the world at your feet

Success has been so easy for you

But don’t forget it’s me who put you where you are now

And I can put you back down too”

Ian’s grin was splitting across his face— and once again Mickey had to reach out and prod him in the chest.

“Stop looking so fucking sappy!”

Ian just held the microphone in both of his hands, and playfully started to sing the chorus:

“Don't

Don't you want me?

You know I can't believe it

When I hear that you won't see me”

He looked over at Mickey, raising his eyebrows. “C’mon, Mick!”

Fuck it.

Mickey swallowed down whatever lingering… feelings were happening about all of this shit, and let the people watching them melt away, fading into the hazy blue lighting— because fuck all those assholes, anyways. He and Ian had been through way too much shit in the main room of the Alibi for Mickey to be afraid of doing fucking karaoke right now; he’d literally come out to his dad in these four walls. He’d had his face bashed in the moment he decided right here, rooted in this same spot on the scuffed hardwood floors, that he would do fucking anything to always be by Ian Gallagher’s side. So he squeezed his eyes shut, just for a second— and pretended it was just him and Ian, singing fucking Lady Gaga in their bathroom as they brushed their teeth (which, yes, they had been prone to do since Chromatica came out, fucking sue him)— and let himself actually sing, deep from his gut in the same goofy, lighthearted way that Ian was doing along with him:

“Don’t you want me baby?

Don’t you want me? Oh!

Don’t you want me baby?

Don’t you want me? Oh!”

Ian’s face was slightly flushed, still grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining as he bobbed his head along with the music— and as they both finished singing the chorus, everyone in the bar started to lose their shit. Everyone was clapping and whistling; even some of the old regulars Mickey had pegged as homophobes a long time ago were cracking smiles through their scraggly beards and clapping their hands together.

When the song finally ended, Ian took a dramatic bow— then he took Mickey’s hand, clasping it and raising it over their heads. The applause and cheers erupted from the crowd, and someone yelled out:

“Let’s hear it for the new owners!”

After that, for the rest of the night Mickey loosened the fuck up— and maybe it was the couple of shots in his system, or maybe it was the fact that there weren’t that many people in the bar now at all except for a thin crowd of familiar faces— but he was feeling happy and warm as he milled through the crowd picking up empty glasses. At some point Debbie switched up the playlist to more dance-y stuff, causing her and Heidi to start spinning in the middle of the room, and a couple others to push the bar tables to the side and follow suit.

And now, people were dancing—and some random middle-aged neighborhood lady grabbed Mickey by the wrist, a smile on her face, to come dance with them—and usually Mickey would scowl and say “Fuck no” to dancing with some random fucking stranger in a situation like this, but he was feeling the blood rushing through his veins, feeling fucking settled—so for just this once, he decided to dance like a fucking goof in his Hawaiian shirt with the random lady for a while, til he locked eyes with where Ian was standing across the bar.

And maybe they were supposed to be paying attention, because they were still the ones running the fucking bar— but all Mickey wanted to do in that moment was walk across the room and press himself closer, closer, and reach his hand up to the side of Ian’s neck, and drag him to lean down to just the right height to press their lips together, to feel the warmth between them.

So that’s what he did, in the midst of the whirring of their neighbors and strangers in the Alibi around them.

We don’t have to run anymore.

#finally finished!!!#not rly proofread lol #yes it is almost 10k oops #i am actually rly proud of completing this chap i hope u enjoy #i love u all so so much i cannot get over how many amazing hcs i feel lucky to have included in this!#gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #gallavich fanfiction #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #lip gallagher #liam gallagher #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm

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empty-dream · 3 years

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70-72 commentaries (No pic, spoilerific nonetheless)

The most important thing: S3E70-72 have no visual for Hockney's face. I, as a Hockney fan, can not deny my disappointment. Though his head from the back does something to soothe my ache.

I want to scratch Yasratcha's face so much.

So I googled and found that the name of the game, Gakjadosaeng (각자도생) literally translates into "Self-Help", and is an idiom meaning "Each one tries to make a way out of it." Fitting. Tho I’m actually surprised Yasratcha doesn’t name the game “Cat Game”

This entire kill-the-prisoners-who-just-wants-freedom-to-get-what-you-wish-for thing is not gonna do Bam good. It's foreshadowed already.

I have a feeling the special gift Yasratcha prepares in Yama's map are the same canine species as Yama. Either way, being Yama is gonna suck now.

I wonder what Evankhell's map is like since it's not shown. And also what's up with Kallavan's map, the goal is right in front of his face?

White: "I can't believe I had to get my feet wet." Me: I can't believe that's the first thing you say after 1 year hiatus.

White as an enemy is an anoying trash talker. White as an ally, however, is a satisfying trash talker. I forget if he's always able to honestly admit his pride gets hurt when someone blocks his sword, or if this is because of White's Clone effect on him? Last time I remember, as Hoaquin he exploded when Boro did it.

That Lyborick minion is so fucking unlucky to run into both Dowon and Karaka. This duo is not what I expect to find here but now I'm looking forward for their dynamic. She actually calls him "Kid." I know she’s ancient and all but. still. Karaka. A KID. LMAO.

I have no basis to say this but what if AA will face Maschenny's minions and they give hints about Maria and lit up the path to Khun Family Arc. I don't think said little brother is Ran, tho. The Wiki states Ran wants to kill Maschenny, and I feel like she is the type that will sardonically call any Khun male younger than her as "little brother."

Hansung really says "Me? Wanna be a hero? Nuts."

But anw, what is 'Where it all began?' Why is he "the only one mad for Jahad and the Great Families for turning their back against morals'? Am I forgetting something about Hansung's past or is it really not touched upon yet?

I still can't believe I start with "I hate Yu Hansung" and now I'm all "I love Yu Hansung." Or the fact that Hansung, Karaka, White and Kallavan, all antagonists from previous long, long seasons, now are allied with Bam. What kind of fever dream is this.

Flash news: Yasratcha is into mixed furries.

*Haratcha spewing those words on Hansung* Me: Wow he really hates heroes huh *Haratcha's past is shown* Me: Wow he really hates himself huh.

So Haratcha's past is basically Elaine's but so much bloodier. And it's tragic in a different way because unlike Elaine's family, the Rashangs didn't start off such greedy bastards. They were just a good minority group that was being persecuted. But when they got to taste wealth, comfort and power for a bit too long, they became cruel and lazy.

And "How People Change" is a common theme in TOG. Just look at Bam in general, or Floor of Death arc with Joe, or Jahad and the Great Family Heads who, as Data!Eduan and Data!Jahad stated, were not like *that* before.

Haratcha's dying scene is unnerving because of how much this stays true. The ghosts (?) of the Rashangs are still so greedy. But when he offers them the only thing he has left, his mark, they just curtly say 'we have that already.'

His dying thought is correct: The Rashangs had no ambition. They never learned. They were given multiple chances to go back to living normally and safely, but they busted them all. They had passed the point of salvation because, as narrated, " They could no longer stand it if anyone had even a little it more than them. They developed a habit of demanding equality, but they made no effort to make things truly equal."

But that didn't go one way. Haratcha was the one enabling the Rashangs to depend on him and eventually leech him off. He said "I will give you power"; he never said, "Let's become strong together." He shot himself on the foot by becoming their wish-granting machine. Just like how he accused Hansung of doing, Haratcha was trying to be a hero for his marginalized people. But one fundamental mistake and several unfortunate things kickstarted his downfall.

Hansung himself also highlighted this. Hansung was not a hero trying to save anyone. He encouraged races trampled under Jahad to stand up for themselves, he made use of people, he left those dragging him. All of these were not things Haratcha did.

Said fundamental mistake, at least for me is that it got worse for Haratcha because unlike Elaine who still had her subordinate, he was alone. He was the lone leader of the group and the only one Yasratcha transformed into a feline. There was no one to raise with him nor to fall with him. No one understood what he really wanted, no one truly asked or argued more with him.

So when the pre-greed Rashangs worried about him and he waved them off with the words "Ask me anything, I'll give it to you!" they believed him and took it literally. After that he just kept giving and giving despite everything until it drained him and led him to kill everyone. And the reason why he couldn't be as harsh as Hansung is, why he is the wannabe-hero one, is because it was out of unconditional love that he did everything for his people.

(I'm just a fan of Hero Deconstruction so don't mind me spitballing about one minor character's past.)

By the way, SIU's narration and drawings to show Haratcha's past is insanely good and chilling. Right to the very end, it was *chef kiss* God I miss SIU so much it's so good to have him back.

#tower of god #tog spoilers #random saying

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Is it alright if I request prompt 47 again, since I've already requested it once?! This time with Grell?

That’s fine with me dear.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, clinginess, violence, blood

Prompt 47: “Telling me I’m crazy sounds wrong. Let’s...just say I’m madly in love with you.”

“Grell! What the heck?! Stop beating this guy up! You know exactly that you’ll get in troubles again with William!”, you yelled at her whilst trying to pull her from the man covered in black. He looked shitty and you dearly hoped he was still alive. “No! Let me go! He flirted with you today and I’ll kill him for this! I clearly heard how he called you disrespectful names! Just wait until I’m finished with this piece of trash!”, Grell protested loudly whilst struggling to free herself out of your grip. She was a grim reaper and was so much stronger than you. She could have ripped you off of her with ease, but she held back because she didn’t want to hurt you. You knew that you should probably be scared of seeing her beating someone up all bloody with the intention to kill him, but as sad as it may sounded, you were so used to it by now. Your main priority now was to save this man from dying a brutal death, you could later on feel scared. You tried with all of your strength to pull her back, but she just dragged you forwards like you were nothing at all.

“Grell! Try to think rationally! If William finds out what you’ve been doing this past few weeks he’ll take your death scythe from you and you’ll have to work overtime! That would mean you’ll have less time to spend with me!” When she suddenly stopped struggling you knew that you had gotten to her with these words. You knew exactly that Grell would do almost anything to spend time with you and you dearly hoped it would be enough to save this man. “You do have a point.”, she mumbled and you let a quiet sigh of relief out. It seemed like it would work. She slowly turned around to you. “However...” Oh no! “That doesn’t change the fact that he has seen me right now. And it is forbidden that humans know of our existence. And this guy here has a big mouth so I doubt he would keep it shut.” That was true though, but still. “We have nearly the twentieth century! No one would believe him!”, you tried to reason with her. “Can you guarantee that?”, she asked you. You wanted to answer, but couldn’t. You couldn’t because you couldn’t guarantee it. That he would keep his mouth shut was just wishful thinking from your side. Your silence confirmed her thoughts. She sighed. “I know that you don’t like me killing people. But first of all, it’s my job to kill people and second of all, I did tell you at the beginning of our relationship what would happen to anyone who dares to touch you.”

Relationship?! Which relationship?! This whole thing had been literally forced from the very beginning! Kidnapping you, dragging you to the cottage in the forest and locking you up in there didn’t count as a relationship! But you were wise enough to not tell her this. She pulled her death scythe out and started it. “If you don’t want to see this I would advice you to go away.” She slowly stepped towards the man who had slowly sat up and stared with terrified eyes at the grinning grim reaper. “No! Show mercy! I won’t tell anyone! I promise!” He looked desperately in your way. “You! Help me!” You watched his facial expression twisting into an ugly mask made out of fear. Pure fear. You had seen that face so often that it didn’t have much of an effect on you. You slumped your shoulders and turned around, leaving the both of them alone. You glanced one last time back and mouthed silently to the man:”I’m sorry.” Then you just walked away from the scene, ignoring the scared cries and pleads of the man and not once turning back. You walked behind the corner of the alley and leaned against it. You still Heard- the screams of the man echoing through the walls. Grell should just kill him. Why torturing the poor man so much? But then again, she liked to take her time with people who did you wrong. You felt a bit bad for him. No! Stop that! Stop feeling guilty! You took a deep breath to calm down. Feeling guilty wouldn’t do you anything good. It would just make you suffer more.

And just like that it suddenly became quiet. The screaming of the man had stopped. So she was done. You heard footsteps approaching you fastly before she stood right next to you, blood all splashed over her. You knew what she wanted to do and before she could do it you lifted your hand in a stopping manner. “Don’t hug me. You’re covered in blood and I’m not in the mood to get dirtied. It’s also so hard to wash blood out of clothes. Take a bath and then we can talk about cuddling. Grell gave you a confused look before she started pouting. You gave her a suspicious look before slowly turning around and walking towards the forest. “Let’s just go home and hope that William won’t find out about this or else you won’t be able to use that Death Scythe of yours again.” It wasn’t like she didn’t have other weapons. Truth to be told in your house she had a whole room filled with weapons, weapons and more weapons. It was hidden in the basement. And Grell had created this room for the simple reason so she would still have weapons if William should ever take her Death Scythe away. You guessed you should be glad that William didn’t decide to get rid of you after he found out about you, but Grell could be really annoying if she wanted too and had convinced William more or less to let her keep you. You could sympathize with William since the both of you seemed to suffer from a similar fate. Both of you were forced to spend a lot of time with the red clothed grim reaper. William when he was working with her and you when Grell was at home. You suspected that this was the reason why he had decided to let you live. Because you both were victims of Grell.

Suddenly you felt a force hitting you from behind. You needed a moment until you realized what this force was. Two strong arms squeezing nearly all the air out of you. “...Grell!!”, you yelled angrily and started thrashing around you. Damn it! You could feel how she smeared all the blood from her clothes and body on yours. “You idiot! Didn’t I tell you to wait until you’ve cleaned yourself up?!” You broke free from her grip and looked pissed off down you. As you had feared. You had blood on your whole body and it smelled terribly! “Just look what you’ve done! I’m completely dirty! And now I have to scrub my ass off to get rid of the blood from my clothes! Thank you very much Grell!” You panted heavily after your short outburst and glared angrily at her. She on the other hand had an adoring look on her face. “Uhh! I love it when you show your fire! But try to look at it from the positive side! Now we can take a bath to clean ourselves up!” Was that supposed to be a good thing?! You didn’t think so! “What the hell?! Do you think that’s a good thing?! For me it’s not! Are you crazy or something like this?!” Grell didn’t seem offended in the least bit. Instead her smile widened upon hearing your angry yelling voice. “Telling me I’m crazy sounds wrong. Let’s...just say I’m madly in love with you.”

You stopped glaring at her. What was the use in wasting all of your energy? You didn’t even know what kind of reaction you had hoped to get from her with your yelling. Did you want her to feel angry? Did you want her to feel remorse? You didn’t know, but you knew that whatever reaction you had hoped to get from her, it would be useless. You looked down on your filthy clothes. “You clean that up. You were the one who ruined them.”, you told her more calmer. “If that’s what you want!”, she answered thrilled and grabbed your hand in hers, dragging you fastly back to the forest, back to the house so the both of you could take a bath together.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere grell #yandere grell sutcliff

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mofieroll · 4 years

Text

You Too (Jotaro Kujo x Fem!Reader)

Inspired from my in-character interaction with @mistaeq! Dedicated to them for motivating me to write! 💛

A Post!SDC Jotaro x Reader one shot where you bond with Holly, who you call Seiko, and pamper your man Jotaro.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Trauma

Word Count: 3k

Two years have passed since the events of the Crusaders' trip to Egypt to save the life of Holly Kujo from being taken by her own Stand. To say that the trip was memorable is an understatement. It was too memorable. The memories of built friendships and increased attachments in just a span of fifty days were unbearable, for fate made the surviving comrades of the group pay for all the joyous moments with the pain of death and eternal separation.

It was hard. Painful. Frightening. Heartbreaking.

It was excruciatingly traumatizing, that even the boy who appeared to be unbothered and distant, the boy who put an end to the cold-blooded century old vampire's curse, couldn't deny it.

Jotaro Kujo couldn't get away from the memories of his dying friends, and so, the supposed flashbacks became inescapable nightmares.

But fortunately, that was until you came.

You met Jotaro a month after he came back from his trip. The meeting was a mere coincidence as you were a year lower than him, you personally did not and had no intentions of getting to know him. It just so happened that Holly or Seiko, his mother, came across your small shop that sold self-designed accessories made from recycled materials. You had told her you search and pick the materials —mostly trash— yourself, which certainly piqued the woman's interest and told you, “Is that right? I have a son, and don't tell him I told you this, but he loves marine animals! It seems you are both fond of nature so I'm sure you'll get along— Oh! I'm sorry dear, we haven't introduced ourselves! I'm Holly Kujo, but you can call me Seiko~”. She was a sweetheart, so you saw no harm in accepting her offer that led you to become a close acquaintance of the Kujo Family.

Much to the matchmaker's Seiko's dismay, it took a year for you and Jotaro to confess that your platonic feelings are in need of a level up. She is Jotaro's mother and your first Kujo friend, of course she'd notice if something was up between you and Jotaro that you both refused to talk about! When you finally re-introduced yourself as Jotaro's.. cough.. girlfriend, Seiko was delighted and decided to treat her second favorite couple (next to her parents Joseph and Suzie) to a nice romantic dinner! The unplanned date embarrassed Jotaro, but he endured it as it gave a good start for the new level of your relationship with him.

Until then, Jotaro became more and more protective. You found it sweet knowing that your boyfriend, former acquaintance, cares about you and shows affection in ways you quite expected for a forbearing man like him. He's not a man of words nor materialistic gifts but a man of straightforward actions— yet he remained mysterious.

Jotaro has been avoiding you since the week has started. He distanced himself yet guarded you as you walked home after class everyday. Everytime you tried to catch him, he's nowhere to be seen. You started to get frustrated, and you know you wouldn't get any explanation even if you corner him and face him alone.

Seiko called you today and asked if you could have dinner wih them, which you excitedly agreed to because you were actually on the way to the Kujo household, a paper bag —which contained your newly designed rings and necklace— in hand.

With Seiko greeting you outside their gates, you entered their traditional mansion and told her about the happenings from the previous days. Even with the mention of Jotaro's sudden actions, Seiko chatted with you nonchalantly.

“Dear, you know my boy would do things that can be a little too unexpected even for me,” Seiko stated, “But if there's one thing or two that I can assure of, is that he means no harm..” You stopped in your tracks as she faced you and tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling, “And he cares for you, [Y/N]. I think, that may be his way of showing it!” Seiko spoke with softness, hopeful that her words would reach you and get rid of any confusion that would spark a misunderstanding on her stoic son's intentions.

You smiled back at Seiko with teary eyes, touched by her comfort. You pulled out the necklace from your paper bag and showed it to her, quietly telling her that it's your gift, only to receive an enthusiastic squeal and hug before you locked the accessory around her neck.

“It looks perfect on you Seiko! I wonder if I'd be as beautiful as you when I reach your age..” You sighed and pouted at Seiko, holding the paper bag on your middle.

“Oh, you!” Seiko playfully hit you as you both giggled, “You shouldn't say such things to a middle aged woman, [Y/N]! I might believe you!” Seiko joked while you insisted that you're sincere about your compliment.

Your chat continued on until she told you to run along and check on her boy, not forgetting to tease that Jotaro misses you. You face warmed in pink, which Seiko found so cute that she had to pinch your cheeks. With her positive and welcoming presence, your determination to face Jotaro fueled.

Seiko informed you that she'll be preparing dinner. You replied, “Mhm! I'll drag Jotaro and we'll meet you here at the dining room! Is that okay?”

“Okay~!”

—

Meanwhile Jotaro, who hasn't come out of his room the whole day, heard you and Seiko pass by. He was sitting in the far corner of his room but the combined voices of yours and his mother's particularly blasted through his ears. He's.. happy.. that you're both safe and sound.. but— why are you here? You should be at home! Did something happen? Did someone bother you? Wait.. did you come here alone? Didn't he tell you even before that you shouldn't go out at night? What if.. what if something happened to you? What if someone showed up and.. and took you away? Took you somewhere.. he can't reach.. What if his dreams were to happen? What if—

Knock! Knock!

Jotaro's sweating face turned to look at his door as his breathing became more unsteady. His eyes widened, brows clashed, and his mouth was agape, gasping for more air. His fists were clenched and he was trembling, who's knocking? Who's trying to get him again?

“Kujo?”

Jotaro stopped breathing for a second while his body still trembled. The voice that called him held sweetness and concern in it but he was still in a dark trance. What if someone's trying to deceive him?

“Seiko called me, may I come in?”

His widened eyes calmed, turning his tormented expression into one of those longingness. His shuddering arm reached out as he subconsciously stood and walked towards his shut door. His cold hand gripped the handle.. but he didn't have the slightest strength to pull it himself. What is he doing? He can't face anyone like this, especially..

On the other side of Jotaro's door was you, with a hand that also gripped the cold handle, waiting for the right timing to enter. Your heartbeat has increased its pace, indicating your uptight feeling of facing him after not seeing him for over a week. You were nervous and a short flashback of your first meeting with Jotaro popped up in your mind. Has it really been two years?

Jotaro never directly told you of his.. episodes. But, there were times where you just happened to observe that whenever you were late on your meeting, he immediately scoops you in a hug while he trembles; or whenever you randomly visit him on weekends and you enter his room only with a knock, he abruptly charges at you with his folded fist stopping inches from your worried face. He didn't tell you about what's haunting him, not even once. Yes, you were undeniably frustrated by him avoiding you, but you love him well enough to have the willingness to act up whilst having patience.

You waited for more minutes before speaking again, “I'm gonna enter now, alright?” You assured, carefully sliding the door behind you and turning on the light switch after you entered.

Your eyes wandered after it adjusted to the lit room, locking on the form of a slouched man in the corner, sitting with a knee up that had his arm and head resting on it while his other knee was folded. You quietly sighed and walked close to him, hiding the impatience to throw yourself at him and pepper him with kisses, mumbling i missed yous. You would have done it, but that kind of affection.. goes for later.

You sat beside Jotaro and placed the paper bag on your side. You weren't too close nor too far from him, just enough to have your hand caress his messy dark hair. You loved seeing him without his hat, seeing his flawless face be shadowless. But if he took it off, the reason is either he's agitated or.. sleep. There was a time when you told him that he should take off his hat indoors and a time you tried to take it off yourself, but he completely ignored you at both and kept the hat on.

“How are you?” You asked without expecting a reply. It was to make him acknowledge your presence, and that is because you didn't know that he's been waiting for you to come in since the moment he heard your voice.

Jotaro wanted to answer. He wanted to lock you in his arms and.. say sorry. He wanted to apologize for neglecting you but— how is he going to do that without telling you too much?

“Why the f*ck did my mother call you? I don't need any help. That b*tch.”

There it is, his method of putting up a tough facade, the swearing that would prompt anybody to think that he needs no help. It worked on you once, but you're not just anybody to him now.

“Mhm. Seiko checked up on me while I was heading home from.. somewhere. She invited me for dinner,” You informed. You didn't want to tell him that you were on your way here even before Seiko called you, knowing full well that he's against you ‘roaming’ at night alone.

You continued to comb through his hair as he answered, “For real [Y/N], I'm fine. Leave. I don't need you to stay here— or.. or something.”

Your hand lowered to his upper back and started to rub circles, “Would you look at me and say that again, Kujo?” you asked in a slightly teasing tone, trying to light up the mood.

You started humming a soft melody, a melody that somehow always soothed Jotaro. The first time you hummed it was when you were cooking dinner for him and Seiko wasn't home. He got into a fight that day and he was abnormally quiet, not the usual, resulting to a tension between the two of you. You hummed the melody to ease the atmosphere, and when you were placing his plate on the table, he suddenly grabbed your wrist and muttered an apology before he told you to ‘keep doing’ what you were doing. The melody was just random, so you did your best to remember its tone and hum it whenever you both need comfort.

And this time, he was soothed again, but he isn't going to be swayed so easily even if he wants to.

“F*cking go away.” He huffs, “You're just like the annoying b*tch. Leave me alone.”

No, stay. He stated in his mind the complete opposite of what came out of his mouth. Of course you didn't leave and continued to hum and rub circles on his back. He may be one of the harshest men you've met, but you have a counter for that. Well.. you're stubborn.

He remembered what you said about heading home from.. somewhere. Where was that? “Where were you coming from?” He asked in a demanding tone.

“Doesn't matter where I was, Kujo. You're still not looking at me.” You retreated your hand from his back and crawled to sit in front of him in crossed legs before placing your hands on his large ones, “I wouldn't mind being like Seiko, although..” You squeezed the top of his hands, bowed your body and peeked at his face where your warm [E/C] eyes met his tired yet enchanting aquamarines. Your lips quirked into a small smile, “You wouldn't want your partner to be your second mother, would you?”

Partner?

Jotaro looked at you blankly, not realizing how close your faces were, “You're still worrying about me too much, I'm fine. I'm.. I'm just remembering..” You straightened and held his cheeks, gently pulling up his face before standing on your knees. You shifted your hand and cupped his face, delicately looking at him to encourage him to speak.

In that moment where he's putting his toughness down, you've completely set aside the issue from the past week. The thoughts that Jotaro might've had enough of you because he thinks you're oblivious to his personal issues— all gone. Holly's words echoed through your mind. Mother truly knows best.

“Egypt.. friends dyi—” Jotaro cut his words and sighed deeply, “..all of it is hitting hard. You won't understand.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. He's right, you would not be able to understand, but that's temporary. It'll take more time for him but you're willing to wait, “I.. dream of you..” He swallows the lump in his throat while you wipe the sweat forming on his temple, “I dream of you dying too.”

With that, you were able to catch on more of what happened before you came in his life. People close to him died. People who he probably traveled with.. might have died right before him.. or not. And now he's being haunted, probably by the guilt or by the experience itself. You're still skeptical, but it's considerably clear now.

Your eyes that looked at your hand which wiped his bead of sweat shifted to his eyes, and you saw fear. He was frightened, not only by the past, but also by the possibility that he might lose you too.

You retreated your hands and sat on your legs as you and Jotaro continued to communicate through your eyes. Your heart was thumping fast against your chest, now of sympathy.

“Jotaro, I..”

This time, you threw yourself at him. Arms snaking around his neck, your face buried on his shoulder. You wrapped him in a tight hug as it took him time to return the affection, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you even closer as he closed his eyes and basked his head on yours. You and Jotaro savored the hug for a while, not thinking about anything else aside being in each other's arms.

“I'm here.. and I'm telling you that I'll be here to love you longer than that delinquent head of yours expected.”

You broke the hug gently, a hand shifting to cup his cheek while you also reached for the paper bag. Jotaro opened his eyes as he felt you fix his sitting position so you could sit —with crossed legs— on his thighs, laying your back on his chest.

“See this?” You lifted the paper bag with both hands, giving Jotaro the chance to once again wrap his arms around your waist. He doesn't mind giving in to your touch as of now.

Jotaro grunted, “Inside this lovely recycled and eco-friendly paper bag are things that.. uhm.. how do I introduce it..” You slowly placed your head on his shoulder, putting the bag down between your legs. You contemplated as you stared on the wooden ceiling, “I know! The things.. consider it as our promise to each other, Kujo. Am I clear? Yep, I'm clear!”

Jotaro clicked his tounge in annoyance as you lifted your head from his shoulder when he was about to rest his head against yours. Why can't he just cuddle you without you moving too much? Can't you and him just cuddle in peace?

You shifted again, now face to face with him. You acted surprise when you saw his furrowed brow, “Oh? Kujo is annoyed with the mighty [L/N]?”

“Just get it over with, woman.” Jotaro supported your back with an arm, watching you as you struggled to hold his free hand with one of yours. You had set aside the paper bag, the things in it now hidden in your other hand.

When you finally settled with wrapping your small hand around his palm so his fingers were loose, you smiled up at him and swiftly leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. Jotaro turned away, snorting to at least lessen his flustered state. Where is his hat now that he practically needs it?

Jotaro felt a cold thing graze his skin, along with what seems to be two fingers pushing the thing on his. He glanced and saw you inserting a ring on his pinky with a serious face. You were glaring at his hand, your smile only returning when you successfully inserted the ring.

You let go of his hand and was about to wear the other ring yourself when he grabbed your wrist, snatched the ring and easily inserted the accessory on your pinky, all of it with only one hand as his other arm was still supporting you.

You were taken aback, ready to question him when he pulled you into a bridal position and locked your upper body with his arms within a second. You chuckled instead of saying a thing, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Keen for a cuddle, huh, Kujo?”

“Good grief. You're one brave woman to challenge me.”

As you and Jotaro became ignorant to your surroundings, a flash of a camera resided from the slightly opened door, the sound being followed by a muffled kyaaah! which, with no doubt, came from the adorably giddy mother of the impatient man in your arms.

[End!]

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

Text

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 6

Thomas X Reader

by @adventuresintooblivion

Word Count: 1929

Summary: Walking home in the cold is never fun. Thomas organizes a search party.

On the way back, they didn’t bother to put a bag over her head. They were more concerned about making sure her blood didn’t get on the backseat. Inspector Campbell wasn’t with them; he had stayed behind.

Y/N was barely conscious. Everything ached. Her thoughts were sluggish at best as she was flung from side to side when they rounded tight corners too quickly. She forced her eyes open just enough to tell it was dark. Thomas should be looking for her by now. If he had noticed I was gone.

She banished that thought with a shaky breath and tried to reserve her strength. Y/N didn’t know how far she’d have to go on her own before someone found her. She just hoped they didn’t dump her in a pile of trash.

After what seemed like ages they came to a sudden halt. “So we just leave her here right?”

“Boss said we were supposed to take her clothes too. Make sure she’s only in her underclothes so she doesn’t violate any decency laws.”

“B...But it’s freezing out there.”

“You saw what she did to Matthew. I think that’s the point.”

Moments later she was tossed onto the ground, body trying to recoil from the freezing stone as it scraped her hot skin. The car drove off, leaving behind a noxious cloud of gas in its wake.

Y/N didn’t move despite the cold. Nowhere she could get to would be any warmer, and quite frankly she couldn’t get her body to move. They’d left the handcuffs on which meant she’d have to navigate around those to get anywhere useful.

After a long while she took a deep breath and sat up. Everything screamed. She was more than certain she at least had a couple of broken ribs. Slowly she lifted her hands, testing out each finger individually to see if they were broken. She thanked whatever Devil had been watching over her that her hands were still intact at the very least.

Besides her ribs and maybe a toe, nothing seemed broken or bent too far out of place. However, she could literally feel the bullet nestled next to her spine. The muscles around it had inflamed so much that ,normally, she wouldn’t have dared to try and get out of bed. Not exactly an option right now.

She glanced around, and with her limited knowledge she realized she was on the very edge of Peaky Blinder territory. Which meant she had about five miles to cross before she could get to the Garrison if she was lucky.

Y/N used her hands to scoot backwards toward a wall. Every inch jostled her injuries. Bruises had already formed around most of her torso, and her left eye was beginning to swell shut. She braced her hands against the wall, placing her right leg beneath her and pushed. A roar tore from her lips as she forced herself to stand.

The pain made her shake so hard her teeth clattered together. Or maybe it was shivering from the cold. She didn’t know anymore. Tonight the air was not only cold but wet as well. It had rained sometime during her capture, making everything slick, but this also caused the type of cold to change to one that seeped into your bones and make you ache. As if she weren’t aching already.

To her right was the pile of trash she’d imagined them tossing her into. It became apparent why they hadn’t. Campbell wanted her alive and not more of a cripple than she already was. Beside her, a maimed ironing board jutted out awkwardly into the road. She sidled closer using the wall to hold most of her weight.

Her hand closed around the foot of the ironing board and she pulled. Her legs buckled under her and she collapsed.

Y/N screamed in frustration. She steeled herself. One. Two. THREE. She used all her weight to yank back on the leg of the ironing board, freeing it from the mess.

She didn’t give herself time to celebrate her small victory before she scooted back to the wall and stood. The leg was long enough to act as a sort of crutch, something she desperately needed if she was to make it any distance. With a slow lean, she tested it out to see if it would hold her weight. It bowed slightly but would do well enough. With vengeance burning in her heart, Y/N began the long trek home.

Thomas thought he already knew what madness was. He was certain the nights he couldn’t sleep came pretty damn close when opium mixed with memories of war. This, on the other hand, was something entirely different, and he hated every second of it.

He’d stopped by the Garrison rather late to check up on Y/N, certain he’d get an earful for his stunt at the high class restaurant. He had said ‘hello’ to Harry and Grace, and asked if she was in. When the answer was no, he’d gone to wait at one of the tables. Evening gave way to dusk. Then dusk to night. Hell, Harry had handed him a key and told him to lock the door behind him on the way out as if he didn’t have two already.

When it hit eight o’clock, Thomas sprinted down the road to grab his brothers and the few men he could rouse at this hour. Now, he and half the gang were out searching for Y/N. There was nothing specific that told him something was wrong, just a gut feeling.

Thomas had sent men to each of the major directions people used to come into the area. They’d wait until word came for them to come home in case she was just out running errands or something. The rest fanned out starting from the pub and worked their way out systematically.

“You’re being paranoid Tommy,” Arthur grumbled for the hundredth time.

Thomas snapped, “My being paranoid has saved your skin on multiple occasions, so how about you shut it and keep your eyes peeled?”

He continued as if Thomas hadn’t spoken, “I just don’t get why you woke us up to go searching for some broad-”

His brother closed the distance between them in moments, lifting up Arthur by the collar as he shoved him against a nearby wall. Thomas’ voice was a low hiss in the night, “She is under my protection Arthur. Not the Peaky Blinders. Mine. I will not hear another word of disrespect out of your mouth, understood.”

“Geez Tommy, What the hell? If she’s just another piece of tail you’re chasing-”

“She’s not. Y/N saved my life and yours countless times.”

Arthur growled, “What’s she got to do with me? I never met her before the other day.”

“She was a Runner!” Thomas’ voice echoed off the deserted street.

Arthur’s face turned a ghostly white, “You mean she was up there distracting the Germans while we-”

“While we dug. Yes. Now stop your whining and help. Me. Find. Her.”

Thomas practically threw Arthur when he released him. Before he could apologize Thomas was already storming off into the night. What he’d told Arthur was only a partial truth, but he couldn’t say the words aloud again so soon after speaking them for the first time in years. If Arthur wanted the full story he could go find himself a reverend.

A loud shuffling suddenly caught Thomas’ attention. It was coming from around the corner up ahead. He instinctively lifted his light, illuminating the street in front of him. He called out, “Who is that?”

There wasn’t an immediate answer, but the shuffling seemed to speed up ever so slightly. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he watched as Y/N rounded the corner. Her face was every shade of red, black and blue skin could possibly be. Y/N’s left eye was swollen shut. Her clothes were missing causing her skin to have a deathly pallor in the cold, but it also let him see more of her skin. The bruises covered the majority of her skin, and one of her toes looked swollen compared to the rest. She was leaning against what looked like a malformed house appliance as she gasped for breath.

Y/N flashed him a grin and immediately regretted her decision. “Hey Tommy.”

“Y/N!” He rushed forward, scooping her up into his arms.

She let out a loud hiss as the most ginger of movements jostled her, but once she was off her feet a certain stress had left her features.

Thomas spun around as Arthur came into view. “Gather everyone up, I need anyone with medical experience at the Garrison, now!”

Arthur’s eyes landed on Y/N’s figure, his eyes widening in horror before he sprinted off in the direction more of the men took.

“Y/N, talk to me ok? We’ll get you nice and fixed up once we’re back at the Pub. But I don’t want you passing out on me just yet.” Thomas began sprinting, the quake in his voice was the only hint that anything was wrong.

A shot rang out. Just one, but that's all it took. Tommy reached for her to pull her back to safety. He didn't even get to her in time to catch her collapsing body. Y/N hit the ground hard.

Tommy was there in a heartbeat. He glanced around wildly. Dirt clogged his lungs as he gasped for breath. Searching. They were alone except for the dead. And the dying.

“No. Y/N. Hey, look at me. You can beat this alright? We just need to get you back to the med-tent.” the crack in his voice betrayed him. He was Thomas Shelby. He had to be strong.

Y/N shook her head, blood oozing slowly from her stomach. “Tommy if we move they’ll shoot you just as fast. I...I’ve some things to say-”

Thomas shook his head so hard his hair fell into his eyes, “You can’t talk like that. If you say stuff like that you’ve already lost.”

She placed a finger on his lips. It was covered in a thick layer of mud, but he knew the soft flesh that lay beneath. The gentle gesture caught him off guard amidst all of the chaos. Y/N spoke so low he had to lean forward to hear her.

When she didn’t answer he began to truly panic so he said the only thing that came to mind, “If we make it through this will you marry me?”

She slapped him. “Shelby I swear to God if you make that joke one more time I’m going to feed you your testicles and turn your ball sack into a coin purse.”

“It . . . Got us through a lot.” For the first time in recent memory, he sounded uncertain.

Y/N turned her face toward his shirt. “That was before you meant it.”

Her voice broke; they both heard it. He had wondered if she remembered those last few minutes between the two of them. They had fucked before that fateful day, so the chemistry was no surprise. They had also been fast friends from the start; only her and Danny got along more famously.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “If it had gone as planned, would you have said yes?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.” A soft sob escaped the fabric of his vest.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #reader insert

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notebook-13 · 4 years

Text

BNHA History

Alright! I decided to assemble what we’ve been told about how society has changed since the advent of quirks. So here’s a rough timeline + my speculation.

Distant Past

≈200 years ago

The birth of a glowing baby signaled the beginning of superpowers. Considering the tremendous chaos that followed, I think it’s likely that the onset was fairly rapid—the glowing baby was the first of a lot of people all at once born with superpowers (or, it was the first baby born with a noticeable superpower). Crime skyrocketed, the law became meaningless, humanity came apart at the seams.

Why there was such an explosion of crime and chaos hasn’t been directly addressed; presumably it’s because early metas were violently shunned as nonhuman, and because new powers entailed the opportunity to use them.

Under these conditions, All for One rose to prominence. He used his meta power to win slavish loyalty, granting powers to those who desired them and removing them from metas who rejected them. His manipulation of his devotees was so great that he didn’t need to give them orders: they anticipated his will and acted on it. He didn’t tolerate dissent and crushed those who defied him. (ch193)

AfO’s period of de facto rule is not included in history books (he persists as a myth), so it’s unlikely that he occupied an official, publicly recognized position. But his rule apparently stretches from approximately the advent of quirks till the battle of Kamino Ward. (ch59)

However, AfO’s younger brother opposed him. AfO punished him by forcing on him a “useless” power-stocking ability. This power fused with the brother’s latent ability to transfer his ability, and the brother was able to pass it on. Over the next two centuries, the OfA holders continued to pass it on, largely to whoever happened to be nearby when they were dying instead of to selected proteges. (ch59, 257)

Relatively soon after the advent of superpowers, the police foreswore using them as weapons in order to keep the trust of the public. Vigilantes emerged to fulfill this role, attempting to mete out justice, and at some point the government authorized certain people (heroes) to use their powers offensively to enforce the law. Heroes were heavily criticized at first, but they eventually developed public support thanks to their strict adherence to the law (according to police chief Tsuragamae). (ch56)

According to the bnha spinoff Vigilantes, the government classified vigilantes into heroes or villains based on public opinion of them. (ch13)

MLA Era

How long ago was the Meta Liberation Army active?

Ch232: Redestro weakly implies that Destro was born before the beginning of heroes as a profession. This early date would also coincide with writing legislation to authorize heroes to use their powers to apprehend any other meta who used their ability.

Ch238: the MLA was in hiding for generations, plural.

Ch223: Redestro states the MLA has trained for “many generations”

So…somewhere between seventy years ago and more than a hundred years ago?

Regardless of the exact dates, Destro was born into a borderline period when there was intense prejudice against metas and official effort to coexist peacefully. When his mother defended him by claiming his power was a mere “quirk,” she was killed by a mob.

Sometime later, when the government drafted legislation to (supposedly?) promote peaceful coexistence, they recalled her idea of “quirk” and tried to use it as part of their reform. Destro, now an adult, opposed this and their reform, asserting that this was not the world his mother envisioned when she’d said “quirk.” (ch232)

He rallied metas to his cause, to bar any restriction of meta ability use, and the MLA fought the government for several years before defeat. It dissolved, many of its members in jail, including Destro himself. He penned his autobiography and then killed himself. (ch218)

Post-MLA, Pre-Symbol of Peace

Unknown number of years ago

Villain: “Seems like no one’s willing to break the law nowadays. All this whining about not selling out their friends. It’s a real pain. […] Man, I miss the days before All Might came along… I was young, and this country was a way more impulsive place.” (ch57)

Yagi: “I believed that this country needed a symbol so I started dashing headlong towards that goal. A shining light…hope. A wake-up call for everyone. As I ran, I swore I’d become that sort of man. People always had these worried looks. All the heroes in the world couldn’t slow the rising crime rates. Much more than now…they were truly scared.” (ch165)

This was an apparently cutthroat, impulsive period where efforts to curb chaos continued but found limited success. Crime was on the rise, something Yagi attributed to the idea that there wasn’t anyone (a “pillar”) for people to rely on. (ch93)

≈70 years ago

When Ujiko proposed his “paranormal singularity theory,” he was roundly rejected and mocked. Due to his own struggles with housing multiple quirks, AfO recognized how prescient Ujiko’s warning was, and he reached out to recruit Ujiko. (ch270)

(Note: Ujiko’s use of “paranormal” could mean he proposed his theory before “quirk” became the standard term, meaning “quirk” could be a rather recent change of language.)

≈35 years ago

AfO killed Nana. All Might was eighteen; he subsequently went to America to complete his training.

Symbol of Peace Era

≈30 years ago – Battle of Kamino Ward

Deku: “Ever since he appeared on the hero scene, his strength has won him undisputed popularity. Every year that he’s been active has seen a marked decrease in the appearance rate of villains. His existence alone is a deterrent to villainy.” (ch2)

Gran Torino: “[Stain’s] ideals and opinions…they’re gonna get out there. On the net. In papers and magazines. On TV. This age we live in, for better or worse, is one of suppression. But mark my words—people are gonna be influenced by this.” (ch57)

Shigaraki: “It’s not crazy to imagine that someone could commit an atrocity at any given moment. So why do they smile and mingle like this? Because the laws and rules are built on their individual morality, they’re convinced that ‘No one would ever do that.’” (ch69)

Shigaraki: “The reason these fools can smile and live their lives is cuz All Might’s always got that grin on his face. Smiling wide, as if to say there’s no one he can’t save!!” (ch69)

Deku: “All Might. Was there ever a time you really couldn’t save someone…?” Yagi: “…? … Sure. Plenty of times. Right now, somewhere out in the world, someone could be hurting or dying. It sucks, but I’m only human. I can’t save people who are out of my reach… That’s why I stand tall and smile. I’m the Symbol of Justice. The citizens…heroes…villains…I need to light the way for all of them.” (ch70)

Kid: “Nowadays people expect different things from heroes than they used to. It’s all about the entertainment factor and approval ratings.” (ch144)

Shigaraki: “You heroes pretend to be society’s guardians. For generations, you pretended not to see those you couldn’t protect and swept their pain under the rug. It’s tainted everything you’ve built. That means your system’s all rotten from the inside with maggots crawling out. It all builds up, little by little, over time. You’ve got the common trash, all too dependent on being protected. And the brave guardians who created the trash that need coddling. […] I don’t care if you don’t understand. That’s what makes us heroes and villains.” (ch281)

After about two centuries of chaos, Japan achieved stability after All Might established himself as the Symbol of Peace. All Might was specifically noted to have demolished most organized crime, so that villain teams were relatively rare (ch83, 115, 125). As Shigaraki put it, now people could go about their lives confident of their safety because All Might convinced them that everything will be alright, a hero will take care of them. This was true to the extent that people would flock to the sites of hero/villain battles to take photos and videos.

Whereas, as Twice put it, if you were on the wrong side of the law, then All Might’s catchphrase “I’m here” was a curse, something to fear and loathe. Gran Torino characterized this era as an age of suppression, as in, the symptoms were suppressed, producing superficial stability, but the underlying conditions hadn’t changed.

During this period, the industry of heroism shifted to over-emphasize heroism as public entertainment, rewarding attention-grabbing stunts and PR skills over humbler virtues.

This shift inspired Stain the Hero Killer to enact a purge of unworthy heroes in order to revive true heroism. He deeply impressed society, and, despite his murders, he became a popular figure. His ideals provoked some people to question whether society’s heroes were “true heroes,” while others disregarded his ideals and simply found him cool.

During this era, 80% of the population had a quirk. Whether that statistic was stable or if it was an effect of demographics (ie, most quirkless people are elderly and almost all kids have quirks) hasn’t been specified.

This era could be separated into All Might’s Bronze, Silver, and Golden Ages, each with a different costume.

≈30 years ago

All Might debuted in Japan, and he kicked off an unprecedented era of stability.

5 years ago

All Might fought and “killed” AfO.

Age of Endeavor

Battle of Kamino Ward – Present (ch283)

HPSC: “All Might had it all…power with enough charm to win the people over. The gulf between him and the perennial runner-up was always huge… I doubt we’re gonna find someone that charismatic again anytime soon.” Mera: While we’re waiting for the next All Might, hero squads with a focus on team unity are gonna have to fill the gap. This order from up high is meant to make some headway on that front… (ch111)

Miyagi (newscaster): “If we’re being honest, I think All Might just got too big for our own good. So big that we lost sight of things. […] As for us, we shouldn’t just passively protect the status quo. Isn’t it our duty to bring back a culture of excitement around heroes?” (ch115)

Kid: “We know what’s up. Mom and dad and the TV all ask the same thing. ‘Are the heroes doing okay?’ …We know. We’re better than them!” (ch165)

Hawks: “That guy earlier, screaming ‘Long live metahuman liberation’…this [rumors of nomu sightings] is kinda like that. They republished some old-school criminal’s autobiography, and it’s flying off the shelves. I’m thinking that’s influencing people. That stuff tends to sell best when society’s feeling unstable, right?” (ch186)

Gentle: “What counts as a spectacle is a question for the current generation. We shall go to the source [UA]—the source that enchants our society.” (ch171)

Newscaster (surveying the stampede of fleeing civilians during Endeavor’s nomu battle): “This is society without a Symbol of Peace!!” Can’tcha See-kun: “Stop saying that crap already!! Open your eyes before spouting off on TV! Especially at a time like this! Look! Those flames’re still rising up! You see ’em, right?! Endeavor’s alive and fighting!! So don’t give up just cuz the other guy’s gone! There’s still a dude out there risking it all for us!! Can’tcha see?!” (ch189)

Kuraishisu (newscaster): “In the past, a situation like this [the destruction of Deika City], where heroes were forced to make a difficult call, would have earned those same heroes criticism, but I suspect we may be witnessing a critical turning point in this era. A large-scale shift in opinion from criticism to passionate support.” Uraraka: “Feels like everything’s different ever since the ‘Can’tcha See kid’ did his thing.” Ashido: “It’s all cuz Endeavor kicked butt!” Mt. Lady: “Y’think the future’s bright? Not so fast!! It might seem like the winds of good fortune are blowing our way, but if you stop and think about the flip side of all this…it’s actually coming from a sense of urgency—it’s a response to danger! These cheers for the conquering heroes are really prayers—a plea that we emerge victorious! They’ve had enough of the showbiz side of heroism and want us to prove our worth for real now!” (ch241)

Mineta: “Not too long ago, she didn’t give a crap about anything except being on camera…” Aizawa: “Mt. Lady’s not the only one who has changed. Every hero out there is being pulled up by the number one’s rising ride.” (ch241)

After All Might retired, uncertainty gripped Japan as people wondered what would happen now. A strong consensus agreed that Endeavor wasn’t suited to fill All Might’s boots, something reflected in how the crime rate went up 3% in the month after Kamino, and reflected in how people suddenly became interested in reading the MLA ideology of rejecting heroes and protecting themselves.

During Endeavor’s battle against the nomu, the press attributed the public’s frantic stampede—ignoring heroes trying to guide evacuation—to the public’s lack of trust in Endeavor (and heroes generally) now that All Might was gone. Public trust improved after the nomu battle, especially thanks to Can’tcha See-kun.

Within a month after the battle, expectations shifted. People had enough of showbiz heroism and wanted the heroes to walk the talk and protect the public against villains, to the extent that comfortable armchair criticism was replaced a passionate support driven by fear of villains.

Miscellaneous Questions

When did “hero” become a recognized profession?

When did the hero ranking system begin?

When did the celebrity culture around heroes develop?

When did “quirk” come into common use?

How old is Yagi? How long ago did he debut in Japan and begin the era of peace?

How old is AfO? How long after the advent of quirks did he come to power?

When did AfO recruit Machia?

When were the nomu invented?

When did humanity pass the point of quirk singularity? (ch193)

#bnha #reference #worldbuilding #bnha meta #bnha manga spoilers

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criminallyfanatic · 4 years

Text

secrets and lies

Aaron Hotchner and Y/N Y/L/N haven’t seen each other since Y/N mysteriously dropped out of Law School right before finals. 16 years later and the meet again as she joins his team at the BAU. Will Aaron finally find out why she left? (set around season 6 time)

aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: some swearing and mentions of murder, just your usual criminal minds antics

a/n - I haven’t written in so long so apologise if it’s not great :) also I have no idea how law school in America works so apologise for any inconsistencies there

“You have an excellent record Agent (Y/L/N), the BAU would be lucky to have you.”

She scanned over your file one last time before settling it on her desk, turning her eyes to you.

“I’m grateful for the opportunity maam” her eyes seemed to stare through you, sizing you up and you shifted slightly in your seat.

“Good. I’m sure you’ll fit right in, with such an impressive history. You’ll start with Agent Hotchner’s team monday morning.”

One mention of his name and it felt like your heart stopped. No, this had to be some sort of mistake.

“Is something wrong, Agent (Y/L/N)?” Her brows furrowed in concern, no doubt noticing the sudden tension that seemed to fill your whole body.

“No, it’s just … when I applied for this job I was told I would be placed on Agent Walters team maam.” please let it be a mistake. Please.

“I’m afraid you were misinformed. This position is on Agent Hotchner's team. Will that be a problem for you?”

YES

“No, not at all. Thank you so much, for this opportunity.”

FUCK

Just open the door. It’s simple. Just push the door open and walk in. He’s probably not even here. And if he is, he probably wouldn’t even recognise you. Or even remember you. Yeah …

Fuck

“Hi!” you jump as someone taps your shoulder, clutching your chest as your heart thunders against it “Oh my god i’m so sorry!”

You turn, coming face to face with quite possibly the most vibrant woman you have ever met. She offers you a tentative smile, her eyes full of concern, scanning your face for any sign of anger or fear.

“I’m so sorry,” she reaches out a hand and lays it on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

“Yes. Sorry. Lost in my own head.”

She appears relieved, happy she didn’t cause any permanent damage.

‘Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia” She reaches out a hand for you to shake, her smile returning tenfold. It almost seems to emanate light, like she makes everything around her shine. It was infectious, and you soon found yourself with a similar smile on your face, all awkwardness forgotten

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Her eyes seem to triple in size at the mention of your name, her grip on your hand tightening.

“Oh my gosh you’re the new agent! I just saw your name come through on the system. It’s so great to meet you. I’m Penelope Garcia, the technical analyst,” She’s shaking your hand again, this time quite vigorously, “Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the team.” taking the hand she was shaking she now leads you through the impenetrable glass doors and into the bullpen.

“Guy, come meet (Y/N)!” with her free hand she waves at a group of agents all huddled around one person's desk. At her call they all turn to look at you, and all of a sudden the anxiety of meeting new people suddenly overwhelms the fear of meeting an old friend. “She’s the newest addition to our wonderful team.”

Quite suddenly you're enveloped by a swarm of agents, all introducing themselves to you, asking you about your past, your family, your life. And it’s nice. Overwhelming, but nice. They’re all so friendly, and you can tell they’re all so close. Like a family. It puts you at ease and soon you’re laughing along with them.

“Have I missed a memo or something?”

The voice comes from behind you, and it feels like someone is pouring a bucket of ice cold water down your back. You feel the tension come flooding back and you daren’t turn around.

“Hotch, have you met the agent joining our team?”

Everyone is staring at you, expectant. Your move.

Just turn around. Get it over with. Like ripping off a plaster.

You can feel his eyes on you, burning holes into your back. JUST TURN AROUND

You turn around.

“Hey Aaron.”

You could practically hear the gears turning in everyone's heads.

You knew Hotch? How did you know Hotch? HOTCH HAD A LIFE BEFORE THE BAU?

You drowned them out, focusing entirely on Aaron. For a moment, you could see every emotion on his face, written plainly for you to read. The fear, the surprise … the regret. You always were good at reading him. A moment later he was back to his cold exterior. Unreadable. Unknowable.

All at once his body jumped into motion. He moved the last few steps towards you, reaching out his hand hesitantly, as if not quite sure how to approach this situation.

How do you approach this situation? If only he knew just how weird it was

You took his hand, it practically enveloped yours, and it was so warm, familiar -

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER

“It’s good to see you again (Y/N)”

“Likewise”

The stares of the other agents came from all sides, clearly trying to decipher just what was happening here. The silence was deafening, the noise of the bustling bullpen just background to the tension and confusion mounting in this one area. You were just waiting for the first brave agent to speak up, to ask the question they all wanted to know the answer to.

“So how do you two -”

BEEP BEEP

The shrill sound of the tech analysts phone thankfully cuts off the question that Agent Prentiss had begun to ask.

“Sorry guys, guess the getting to know you party’s over, we have a case” says Penelope, pouting slightly.

Ahh saved by the bell

Despite this, no one seems quite ready to leave just yet, much more happy to linger here and figure out this puzzle. It’s Aaron who moves first.

“You’re welcome to sit this one out if you want to get acquainted with your surroundings first.”

“Thank you, Aaron, but I’m ready. Let's get to work.”

He throws you a swift nod and moves past you, climbing the stairs to the walkway above. Slowly, the other agents follow suit, until you’re left alone with Penelope.

“Hey, are you alright?” she gently rests a hand on your shoulder, “You seem tense?”

“I’m fine,” you shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts racing through it, “Just first day jitters.”

She offers you a small smile, satisfied with your answer. You can tell she’s just dying to ask how you know Aaron, but not quite sure how to bring it up, like she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“We knew each other. In law school. In case you were wondering.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“Nope. 16 years since I last saw him.” sixteen very long years

You can tell she knows there’s more to it, but she doesn’t want to push. Not on your first day. You expect that in a couple weeks you will be grilled in depth about your relationship with Aaron, what he was like in College, how well you knew him. But for now she simply nods, happy with this snippet of information she will likely file away and research as soon as she gets back to her office.

“Come with me Agent (Y/L/N), we have a case to solve.”

The case was pretty standard, If you could call a case that. 5 women had been murdered, all brunets, all young and attractive. No doubt some sick bastard had been dumped or rejected at some point in their miserable lives and decided to take it out on anyone who looked the slightest bit like her. All you had to do was catch him. “From looking at the geographical profile I've deduced that his comfort zone is between these three points, so the odds are that he lives somewhere in here.” “We could increase police presence in these neighbourhoods, might make -"

you missed the end of the police chiefs sentence as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

INCOMING CALL: SOFIA

You feel someone's eyes on you and look up to see Aaron’s questioning gaze. You flash the phone at him and he simply nods his head. You slip quietly from the room, trying not to pull any attention away from the discussion happening around the table, and duck into an alcove.

“Hey sweetie”

“Hey mom.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say goodnight. How’s the case going?”

“It’s good. Well, not good, but it’s certainly going.” you can feel those eyes on you again, and you resist the temptation to look round. Not now, please not now

“Well, I don’t want to keep you if you’re busy, just wanted to touch base.”

“Ok, well goodnight sweetie, I’ll see you soon. Love you”

“Love you too. Oh and mom.”

“Yeah?”

“Kick some bad guy ass.” You laugh at that

“Ok, I will certainly try.” You hang up the phone, still grinning slightly as you glance at the picture on the screen. You and Sofia had spent the day at the beach and she had snapped a picture of the two of you as the sun set, ice creams in hand. You missed her.

There was a flurry of movement from the room you had just left, everyone grabbing their things and moving to the exit.

“What’s happening?” you managed to snag Reid’s arm as he walked past. By the look on his face it wasn’t good.

“They’ve found another body.”

You felt your stomach drop. You weren’t smiling anymore.

Dumped. Like trash. Just something to be thrown away. That’s what he thought of these women. You stared at her body, all crumpled on the floor and you felt the anger bubbling in your stomach. If you stared long enough she started to look like Sofia. A bit older, a bit taller. But the similarities were still there.

You closed your eyes, shaking your head slightly, trying to clear yourself of that mental image.

No. She’s at home. Safe.

“Are you alright?” He’s looking at you with that air of concern again and it’s almost too much. You can't bring yourself to look in his eyes, instead opting to look at the wall just over his shoulder.

“Yeah I’m fine.”

“If you need a minute, a break…”

“I’ll be fine Aaron.” You look at him then, feel the full force of his gaze and it overwhelms you. He can see it in your eyes. His eyebrows furrow and you can see he’s trying to read you, trying to figure out just what's wrong.

Everything. Everything’s wrong. And you don’t even know .

You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you force yourself to look away. You can see out the corner of your eye as he begins to reach for you and you hold up your hand.

Please no. Don’t touch me. I don’t think I could bare it. Then it would be real.

“I’m fine Aaron. Really. It’s just a lot is all.”

“(Y/N) -”

You walk away before he can probe any deeper, moving to the mouth of the alley, breathing deep from the crisp night air. The tears still sit, threatening to fall and you try to hold them back.

Not here. Not now. Keep yourself together.

You feel him coming up behind you again, and you spin, your fear and sadness turning to anger.

“Aaron I said I’m fine -”

“Woah don’t shoot it’s just me.” You see Prentiss holding her hands in mock surrender. She lowers them, huffing out a laugh, but regarding you with that self same look of concern.

What is this look? A BAU special?

“I’d ask you if you’re alright but I don’t especially feel like getting my head blown off. That being said … Are you ok?”

Just like she did a moment ago you let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“Oh god, this isn’t a great first impression is it?” You feel like an idiot. You’re first day and already you’re practically having a breakdown.

“Don’t worry about it. We all have our moments, our limits. It’s what makes us human.” She lays a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You can see why they’re all so close. They look out for one another. See when one is hurting. Like a family.

Family.

“We’ll get him you know.” She pulls you from your thoughts and you glance back to her, eyes focussing on the here and now.

“I know.”

You share a small smile and you begin to truly believe it.

And catch him you did. You had figured out he was stalking and abducting women from their homes. He saw them at work, in a coffee shop, at the mall. One look and he already knew he wanted to kill them. The trick was finding them after he had abducted them. And without any physical evidence to even hint to who this man might be it seemed an impossible task.

But he slipped up. He left a trace. Whether that was the increased police presence, the fact that the FBI were there or just the fact that he was getting sloppy. It didn’t matter. You had DNA. And a name.

Charles Manes. We're coming for you.

For a man unhinged he was surprisingly easy to take down. He just gave himself up, that shit eating grin on his face as he did it. The last woman he had abducted was laying on the floor, bound and gagged. You ran over to her, pulling the rope from her body and helping her to sit up. She began sobbing and you held her against you as she cried, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“You’re ok. You’re safe now.”

The paramedics took her from you and led her outside, ready to take her to the hospital. You followed after, stopping by the front door and leaning against the frame, taking a moment. You felt a presence beside you and turned to see Rossi watching her get loaded into the ambulance.

“We did good.” he said, not even glancing towards you, “She’ll be alright.”

“Eventually.” You took a deep sigh, feeling yourself start to relax. A commotion made you both look and you saw Charles fighting with the officers trying to load him into the police car. It seemed Aaron saw too as in a flash he was by their side, helping to get him in without causing any more damage.

You felt your body tense, felt Rossi glance at you questioningly.

“Everything alright agent?”

How do they do this? They barely even know me! Stupid profilers.

“Never better.” You said, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you made your way to the SUV’s, to the rest of the team.

“We got him,” Prentiss clapped you on the shoulder as you passed, headed to the second SUV, “let’s go home.”

You had to admit, travelling by jet was quite the experience. What wasn’t as fancy was the great pile of paperwork waiting for you at the other end. You’d only just started but already you were swamped.

You sat at your desk. Penelope had laid out your things whilst you all were away. “I just wanted you to feel more at home here when you got back”. It was sparse, but functional. She had even left you a post-it note with a cute message on and a unicorn stress toy, “You didn’t have any pictures, so I wanted to liven the place up a bit, I hope you like it.”

Right. No pictures. Wonder why.

The paperwork loomed and you tried to stay focused, eager to go home, but as the words began to merge into one another you knew it was time for coffee.

Another long night it is then.

You thought about calling Sofia, letting her know you would be late back. Would she even still be up? Who are you kidding, of course she is.

Might as well call her. A break from paperwork might do me some good.

You reached into your desk drawer to take out your phone.

“Y/N can I speak to you for a moment in my office?”

Maybe not then.

He was looking down at you from the walkway, not quite meeting your eyes. He seemed fidgety, like he couldn't decide whether to cross his arms or put them in his pockets or lean against the bannister.

Nervous. Interesting.

“Of course.” You walked up the stairs to where he stood and he motioned for you to go inside and take a seat. He lingered by the door for a moment before pushing it closed and making his way around the desk and sitting in his chair, hands steepled before him on the desk. He regarded you for a moment and you felt your heart skip. It felt like he was x raying you, like he could see into your mind, into the thoughts racing about in there. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to escape his gaze, or at least prompt him into talking. Anything to break the silence.

“I just wanted to check in on you, your first case and all. You’ve done some exceptional work and I can see you being an excellent asset to this team.”

“Thank you. I can see that I’m going to enjoy working with this team.”

He simply nodded, nothing more to say, but you could see in his face he wasn’t done. Not really.

Is that really all you want to say? Come on Aaron spit it out. I can see it in your eyes. Maybe this will make it easier on the both of us, if we just blurt out what we have to say at the same time. Or would that wreck you even more? Either way I’m the bad guy. But I can’t keep this to myself. You need to know. You want to know. So just ask.

“Why did you leave?” he blurted it out suddenly and it shocked you, and by the look on his face it shocked him too

“I’m sorry what?”

He gained back some of his composure, steeling himself before asking again.

“Why did you leave law school. Right before finals you just up and left. No letters, no reason just there one minute gone the next. I tried to find out something, anything but no one knew-” You could tell he was working his way up to something.

Come on. Ask me. Make this easier on me. Blame yourself, so when I tell you the truth it will hurt less. Because you know why. Or at least part of it.

“If you left because of what I did I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to drive you away. It was stupid and immature and if that is why I am truly sorry.”

Oh god, I thought if I heard you admit it, it wouldn’t hurt as much to tell you the truth. To hurt you like you did me. But it’s worse, so much worse. Because you’re sorry. And I’m the villain. The one who didn’t tell you.

You could feel the tears falling down your face, slipping onto the hands wound tightly in your lap. His face was breaking too, and you couldn’t bare to look at it a moment longer.

“Y/N -” he reached across the desk for you but you held up your hand to stop him, just like in the alleyway.

“Please. Don’t.”

“If this is because of me I’m so sorry. If you want I can get you a transfer. If you can’t work with me we can sort this out.”

That's right, the cowards way out. Just keep avoiding this conversation till you eventually die.

Just tell him. Get it over with. Rip off the bandaid.

“Please stop. Just stop. It’s not your fault. I mean, it was, partly, but it wasn’t. And when I tell you why you will probably hate me, and can take that. I deserve it. And if you want to transfer me out, get rid of me I understand. But when you left me, to go back to Haley it broke me. I hated you. I hated you with everything I had and I thought the best way to punish you was to just not tell you. But over the years I’ve realised how stupid I was, how selfish and foolish I was to not tell you. All because of some petty relationship drama.”

His look of confusion morphed into one of understanding and horror. Like he had connected the dots in his head but wasn’t quite ready to admit to what they all added up to. He was as far away from you as possible. Like you stood before him with a bomb and he was waiting for it to go off. And you were.

“I was pregnant Aaron. I was pregnant and I never told you. I just left. And I’m so sorry.”

Your whole body was shaking as you dissolved fully into tears, not daring to look at him, to no doubt see the anger and the disgust written on his face. Disgust at how stupid and selfish you were.

Not telling someone they have a daughter. How evil can you be.

You heard your name spoken softly from the chair beside you. You hadn’t even seen him get up. But he reached for you again, and this time you let him, let him pull you into his arms, rest your head against his chest as you cried and cried, spilling tears onto his white shirt. He rested his chin on top of your head, rubbing soothing circles onto your back, rocking you slightly.

No. This is wrong. This is all wrong. You should hate me for what I’ve done, I’m despicable.

“Aaron.” You brought your head up from his chest, finally looking at his face. He didn’t look angry or disgusted, he just looked … sad.

“It’s alright.” He gently brushed some of the tears from your face, one hand coming to rest on your cheek, “It’s ok.”

“It’s not ok Aaron. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I kept this from you.”

The hand on your cheek fell away, coming to rest instead on your hand, holding it in his.

“You must hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Well I hate myself.”

“This isn’t your fault”

“Isn’t it?”

“I screwed up. We both did. But I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me about this. I drove you away and I broke your heart. We both made mistakes. But we can fix them now.”

The way he said, the way he seemed to stare into your soul, made you truly believe you could.

“Tell me about them. Tell me everything.”

And so you did. You told him everything about Sofia. How excited she was to go into her junior year next year. How she liked to eat pancakes on saturdays and drink tea because it made her feel fancy. You told him how she cries at soppy movies and how you would always make time for mother daughter dates. And he listened to every moment of it, every little detail. And it pained you that he never knew any of this. That he never got to see her grow up. But maybe now he could get some of that time back. Still have a relationship, make some memories with her.

“I want to meet her.”

“I want that too.”

And you felt some understanding pass between the two of you. That whatever had happened in the past was over with. Now, what was important, more than anything else, was family.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic

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