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#blocked him on everything and didn’t associate myself with anything he’s involved with
whoreshijima · 2 years
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Tw tw SA in the tags
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nightgoodomens · 3 months
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bullshit bingo take of the day i just stumbled upon: "crowley only helps job and elspeth because he doesn't like hell and wants to spite them"
and i'm ashamed to admit it but that gave me severe anxiety. i usually ignore the bad takes but i'm not having a good day mentally and i feel like i'm going crazy so i guess i really need to ask. i'm no delulu right? crowley doesn't do it to spite hell and be rebellious but only because he's kind and selfless and wants to help and protect?
You know, this is the reason why I am cutting myself away from the Good Omens fandom more and more, and I might recommend you cutting yourself a little bit off as well - filter your dash with people who you know post the good stuff, things you love, and don’t look for general opinions etc anymore.
There are still awesome people out there who haven’t forgotten what this show and characters actually are.
I remember when I joined with Season 2 and told myself wow this is the first normal fandom I’ve ever been in - how?! - lmao, no. It is like every other fandom out there where you simply have to find your people and ignore the rest.
At the beginning I felt like it was insane and amazing how everyone got along, bloody hell, people posting opinions, analysing everything, the disagreements were kind, interesting conversations, so many clues being found, general respect, everything worked with canon so people agreed to disagree on little things… most of all so much love for the characters for exactly who they were and for the show for exactly what it was.
Cue in a few months later and everything is negative, characters are monsters, or pathetic, or whores/sluts/dogs, trolls everywhere, so much hate, and anon hate, canon is non existent, everything; the story and the characters and every scene are fetishised to the extreme and have nothing to do with what they have been portrayed to be, and actually apparently we were all wrong and Good Omens is an extremely hardcore sex show after all, and the metas are now how it proves that they should be in an extreme dom/sub relationship - yeah the two guys who’s whole story is that they need to be set free. Crowley is treated in a way that makes me feel sick at this point because people talking about the horrible things that should be done to him and saying it would be good for him actually makes me shudder. It is scary how so many people talk about sensitive topics that they don’t understand at all. Some takes are actually horrifying at this point and I hope they don’t genuinely have such opinions in real life when real people are involved. And the fans acting like such things are absolutely normal and this is how majority of relationships out there are like are frankly worrying me. Aziraphale was completely stripped off his personality too. So much to unpack about this insanity but I don’t want to dig into it. Not everything should be normalised.
In a way I wonder if there was an influx of fans who never watched the show, just know it from fics/fanart.
I was getting extremely angry about these things but I finally let it go and just blocked, and blocked, and blocked. Now I barely see anything like this. I had to step away from AO3. I scroll the dash a lot less. And I simply started focusing on other things again.
When it reaches the moment when you cringe seeing Good Omens because people ruined scenes for you - step away. That’s when I knew I have to start blocking and filtering because I didn’t want to start associating the show with cringe - it doesn’t deserve it.
Just find your circle of likeminded people. So this fandom brings you joy not a headache. And ignore the rest.
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buckyarchives · 1 year
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BuckyArchives Masterlist
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Welcome! I know my username says ‘Bucky’archives, but I do occasionally post character other than him and outside of marvel! Anyways, I’m Sophie and I go by any pronouns, I don’t share too much about myself but I promise I’m friendly and my inbox is always open. Enjoy reading and below is my full Masterlist and almost everything you need to know! Notes, reblogs and comments are VERY important, i don’t know what readers life or don’t like if you don’t interact so please, I beg — interact with me. Even if it’s small.
DNI! basic dni criteria (racist, homophobic, misogynistic .etc) under 16. just don’t come here to just stir up drama, don’t like what you see? Scroll. Not hard to grasp.
My AO3 | want to request something? Click here!
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GUIDE | 🎞️=personal favs. ⚡️=smut. 🍂= over 5k. 🎟️= unfinished
series
Metal Arms and Short Skirts ⚡️🍂
Waltzing in as the new head of Avengers medical decision, impressing everyone and… scaring Bucky Barnes your incredibly short skirts. While Bucky is having a hard time seeing his arm as anything other than a weapon, you’re more than happy to help him
The Balcony scene 🎞️🎟️🍂
The one where theirs two winter soldiers, and now it’s time to make amends. Untill you and Bucky Barnes run into a homicidal 5’4 talk problem
The Domestic Life of Living With a Runaway Assassin 🍂🎟️
You hate many things in life. You hate soulmates, you hate the avengers, you hate guns, you hate loud snorers and complicated relationships. Bucky Barnes is associated with all those thing yet you can seem to hate him (Soulmate!AU)
One-shots + Two-parters
The Trials and Tribulations of Getting Bucky Barnes a Second date.
Bucky Barnes hasn’t kissed someone since the 40s and he needs some practice…
Little mermaid🎞️🍂
A mission gone rogue and Bucky Barnes has to depend on you to save him, and a few of your unlikely friends found midst the Atlantic Ocean.
Bedless
Relapsing wasn’t great, ever. But Bucky Barnes is there. (SH WARNING)
Day After Tomorrow 🎞️
Bucky Barnes’ enhanced hearing is both a blessing and a curse. Eavesdropping, loud music, footsteps and when his sweet neighbor has been coughing her pretty head off all day.
First impressions ⚡️
Who’s would guess that meeting Matt Murdock’s best friends for the first time involved drunk giggling and impressive cock-blocking. (Male reader)
Second, first meeting 🎞️
After the meteor, Chishiya notices the all too familiar person. Their pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (GN reader)
Night Shift🍂
After months of Bruce Wayne being a regular at the waffle house you work at, you soon realize you have been messing up his order the entire time (GN reader)
Untitled
You don’t trust the new masked vigilante, the batman, but after a couple flirty interactions and him saving you from a possible mugging — you begin to change your mind.
Untitled 🎞️
After many stressful nights dealing with the riddler and his fathers past, all Bruce Wayne wants if for you to stay.
We’re not really strangers 🎞️🍂🎟️
You got cheated out of your life and now you can’t trust. Sebastian stan doenst know how to love full heartedly. He’s in a movie you didn’t write, but you did, but you want admit it - or do you? Loneliness begins to consume sebastian, as for you but you are two people from two different worlds: yet this tug is so intense it will eat you both raw
5 Years of Peace🍂
You and Bucky go to Vormir
Graceland too.
Ellie Williams didn't care much for trusting new people, she needed to keep the ones she had. Until you came around.
Just A Game
if anything, you and Bucky Barne's relationship was just a game. Who will win and who will break?
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eloquentornot · 2 years
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Tango’s nether hub is so beautiful! A massive magical library with decorated hallways leading in the four main directions, so full of detail and colour...
Amethyst crystals and twisting vines. Yeah, here we go again. I thought I was at least half joking when I told myself I’d never be able to look at that combination the same again, after the cliffhanger showing a bit of the Nothing virus still attached to the Hermitheus! The thing is, I really don’t think that there’s actually any of that going on in the nether hub.
The blocks are where they make sense as beautiful decorations, warped plants naturally grow in the nether, crystals give the place the exact magical feeling it needs, and none of it is clumped together in ugly growths like it was when portraying the Nothing in season 8. I’m also doing my best to ignore the idea of the red stuff holding up the platforms being the same as what’s grown inside the Entity, it’s just coincidence of materials used, in a totally different context! Honestly, it’s the same with Scar’s tree! The Nothing growths were random and weird, but any use of the purple crystals and/or cyan plants so far this season have been in places where they make sense aesthetically, and wouldn’t even stand out that much or at all if I didn’t already have that association with Ren and Doc’s lore of last season! (Grian’s definitely doing something to associate the warped stuff with his weirdness, but that doesn’t have to mean it has anything to do with the Nothing, either.)
But it still just got me thinking, about the possibility of Tango maybe having been part of the Hermatrix storyline. When Tango went to stop the moon, he was attacked by Grumbot! After learning that Moon Big was really Moonatrix Octa saving everyone from the Nothing virus, this made perfect sense - Grumbot was helping run the simulation and trying to keep the hermits safe, so he tried to stop Tango from trying to prevent the moon crash! But then where does that leave Holsten, who was sarcastic about it but ultimately always tried to help him succeed? An A.I. within a simulation, I mean he even commented on how unbelievable it was for Tango to suddenly have an advanced A.I. out of nowhere! Just a funny line, of course, but could have also been an indicator that not everything was as it seemed. (Could Holsten have been an attempt to regain control by the Nothing, or maybe even by something else that might have been secretly behind the Nothing?) There was also that encounter in space with the Keralis who said things that contradict what we saw of Keralis in his own videos... There is of course the case that every hermit does their own individual series on the server so plots don’t always have to line up, but there could also equally be an argument that Tango was portraying a slight dreamlike quality to the end of his season? And if, within the Hermatrix simulation, he actually physically moved closer to the moon before it crashed, could that have meant anything for how his mind was affected before he woke up? Or was Grumbot’s “attack” maybe just him moving Tango to a different, temporary simulation, since he was attempting to go “out of bounds” of the Hermatrix one? What if, if anything is remaining from last season’s threat, it comes through Tango somehow, eventually?
This season, Ren appears to be continuing the story where it left off, but with the additional twist of Giga Corp. There were still some amethyst crystals visible on the pipes in the Hermitheus in the episode presented by Rosie, but aside from that no sign of the Nothing at all. I wonder what the Giga-fication mentioned in his first episode will be.
I wonder if any hermits will do anything story-wise with the introduction of the deep dark, the sculk, the Warden.
What if, just maybe, Tango gets involved somehow with Ren’s story, this season? It doesn’t seem likely, but that doesn’t mean it’s totally impossible, either...?
(Also just had a thought, if the Octagon legs on the Entity are meant to be a hint that Grian and Ren are working together or at least planning to make their stories line up with each other in a way that makes sense this season, that would be amazing! I’ve just been assuming that Grian will have his weirdness, possibly including Scar and/or Mumbo but maybe not, and Ren will have his sci-fi, but I would love it if the two reference each other! Probably not too likely, though.)
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mochegato · 3 years
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Even the Losers
Chapter 2
Chapter 1
Bruce watched Lucius, or more specifically his hands, with a well concealed hostility.  If you didn’t truly know Bruce or weren’t well versed at reading suppressed emotions, you could believe it was just another artificially polite expression.  But Lucius had known Bruce since he was a child and Marinette hadn’t spent years fighting an emotional terrorist for nothing.  “I haven’t seen you all night and now I find you coopting this beautiful young lady’s time,” Bruce observed, his mouth tight.
Marinette eyed him apprehensively, subconsciously taking a half step back.  Her whole body stiffening.  Lucius took note of the change and moved slightly between the two of them and laughed politely.  He wasn’t sure what caused the change in demeanor but he still wanted to try to cultivate a business relationship with the young lady.  When they got the fabrics working, they would need a designer and she was not only clearly the perfect candidate for the position, they had already been considering her before everything she’d said during their dance.  
“Sorry, Mr. Wayne.  I assure you I was not avoiding you in favor of a prettier face,” he chuckled.  “Although I’ve been informed elusiveness seems to be a quality I exude unintentionally.” He winked at Marinette who smiled weakly at the attempt.
Bruce chuckled with him, tight and short exhales, his eyes never softening.  “I wouldn’t blame you at all.  She certainly is lovely.”
Marinette’s chest hollowed out, all the breath in her evaporating out of her chest as though it had never been there.  “Kind of you to say,” she rasped out just barely looking up to meet his eyes.
“Just saying the truth,” he assured her with more sincerity.  His eyes finally managed to soften as he looked at her, but immediately hardened again when he returned his gaze to Lucius.  “I’m sorry if Lucius has been keeping you captive.  I know he likes to talk and it can be hard to get him to stop, especially when he’s taken a particular interest in something… or someone.”  His eyes sharpened on Lucius as he spoke.  Lucius only raised his eyebrow in response, leaning back slightly as if to see Bruce a bit better.
Marinette immediately straightened back up, her eyes hardening.  All evidence of uncertainty and unease shattering as she did.  She had been the one to approach M. Fox.  She had been the one to coopt his time.  She had been the one manipulating the situation.  And now M. Wayne was going to try to twist this on M. Fox, who had been nothing but gracious and kind.  “I was just discussing innovation and the application process with M. Fox,” Marinette responded coldly before Lucius could.  “He was polite enough to entertain my questions.  He has been quite polite and charming and professional.”
“Were you thinking of working for WE?” Bruce asks perking up slightly.  
“You couldn’t pay me enough,” Marinette scoffed out before she could stop herself.  She immediately mentally face palmed.  This wasn’t the time for this.  Now was about Max, not her.  The mission had been successful she wasn’t going to blow it now by letting M. Fox see her overreactions.  
She let out a breath and looked back up with an overly wide smile.  “As I mentioned to M. Fox, I’m not really interested in technology.  I couldn’t imagine anything more boring than staring at numbers and code all day long,” she laughed in the way she’d seen Adrien laugh at events like this, an empty, meaningless laugh meant to indicate a lack of interest in the topic rather than actual entertainment, leaning toward Lucius as she said it, hoping to pull him into the conversation and rescue her from.
“It’s not my favorite part of the day either,” Lucius smiled graciously.  “I imagine you would still be good at it,” he assured her, “but I can’t say I blame you. I would likely react the same if faced with bolts of fabric and thread.”
Marinette smiled politely, grateful to him for the reprieve.  “Well that sounds interesting,” Bruce interjected.  “Perhaps we can discuss what would interest you during a dance.” He motioned toward the dancefloor and held his hand out toward her.
Marinette glanced down at the hand, a weight settling in the pit of her stomach.  If she gave in he’d have her for the duration of the song.  One-on-one.  No escape without creating a scene.  Trapped by the same societal conventions she’d used against M. Fox.  “Surely you must have more important guests to attend to,” she offered instead.
“I do not,” he assured her, sincerity radiating from his eyes.
Marinette opened her mouth to say yes, resigning herself to her fate when she felt a hand on her hip.  “There you are M’lady.  I lost you in the sea of people for a moment.”  Adrien prompted her to turn slightly so he could look her in the eyes. “You okay?”
Her shoulders, she hadn’t even realized had worked their way up to almost touching her jaw, instantly relaxed.  She gave him a relieved smile and squeezed his hand.  “I’m good, Kitty.  Thank you.”
“Is this your date?” Bruce inserted, eyeing him coldly, but held his hand out to him.  “Bruce Wayne.”
Adrien gave him his practiced, social smile, perfect for galas with strangers and potentially hostile associates.  “Nice to meet you, sir.  This is a very nice gathering.  Very kind of you to do this for the orphans,” his tone was bordering on openly hostile but keeping to the socially acceptable side of the border. Marinette choked at the statement. She hadn’t really thought about the intent of the gala since she’d made the plan.  When she’d made it, the purpose hadn’t had any bearing.  But now…
“Thank you.  It is an important cause to my family and myself.”  He missed the way Adrien squeezed Marinette tighter at his words. “You mentioned talking to Mr. Fox about innovation at Wayne Enterprises.  Perhaps you would like a tour of the building.  I can arrange one personally for you.”
Adrien pulled his lips into a tight, sickeningly artificial smile.  “How very generous of you.  Unfortunately, we won’t be in town that long.  We are scheduled to leave town Tuesday.”
Bruce looked between the two, forcing his body to not stiffen at Adrien responding for Marinette.  “Tell me about yourself, son,” Bruce smiled stiffly, noting that he had artfully left out his name, not that Bruce didn’t know it already, although the physical proximity to Marinette was unexpected.
It took almost all of Marinette’s experience as Ladybug to keep a poker face instead of letting her jaw drop in offense.  “Why don’t you let these young people dance, Bruce,” Lucius interrupted, detecting Marinette’s increased discomfort.  “After all, it’s cruel to make the young have to endure making conversation with the old guard like us.”  He turned to Marinette and Adrien with a kind smile.  “Make sure you don’t miss your opportunity to dance tonight.”
Marinette smiled at him gratefully.  “Not at all, M. Fox.  I found our conversation very fascinating.  Thank you very much for sharing your time with me.  It was much appreciated.  But I will take you up on your advice.”  She turned to Adrien and motioned to the dancefloor.  “Shall we?”
“Always,” Adrien smiled.  “Gentlemen.”  He nodded to them and guided Marinette across the dancefloor, taking great care to escort her as far from them as he possibly could.  He glanced around to make sure the men couldn’t see them and pulled Marinette into a comforting, all-encompassing hug.  “How are you really?”
Marinette held him tightly and buried her head in his chest.  “I’ll be okay.  I just… Thank you for the save.”  She laid her head on his chest as they swayed to the music.  Her breath slowly shifted from shaky to more steady.  She lost track of the number of songs that passed while she found her voice again.  When she could breathe normally again, she stood straight and smiled at Adrien.  “It worked.”
“It worked?” Adrien asked excitedly.
Marinette nodded and had to stop herself from doing an entirely inappropriate victory dance.  “He wants to meet Max on Monday.  Well, me too,” she cringed slightly, not looking forward to being involved beyond what she had done already.  “But! But, he was floored by Max’s invention. Like completely floored!  And knows about Rabler now.  He did not look happy at all about the news.”  Her grin widened as she remembered the encounter.  “I think Max is really going to be taken care of.  It went so well!” she squealed.
Adrien grinned back and hugged her.  “We have to let Max know.”
Marinette nodded.  “He’ll call us when he’s done.  We just need to stay up until then.”
Adrien nodded.  “Coffee it is then.  Do you want to leave now or look around?”  Marinette looked around quickly.  By the time she looked back at Adrien, her eyes had lost their light. She looked exhausted suddenly, drained by the experience.  Adrien gave her an understanding smile and squeeze.  The mission was over.  She didn’t need to be in mission mode anymore, or at least not high alert.  She just had the meeting on Monday and she was done. Now she could stop blocking any potentially interfering emotions and actually let herself feel again.  “Let’s get out of here and find a coffee shop then. We can take it back to the hotel and watch bad movies until Max calls.”
Marinette gave him a weak smile.  “Maybe popcorn and candy and drinks instead,” she offered. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Sooooo many drinks and ice cream.”
Adrien laughed and slung his arm over her shoulder to help guide her and comfort her at the same time.  They wound through the crowd making their way to the exit and freedom, where Marinette could finally breathe freely.  They had almost made it to the doors when they heard someone call Adrien’s name.  Adrien looked around and cursed under his breath.  “Hey again.”
“Leaving so soon?” Tim asked.  He looked between the two with a concerned expression.  It was awfully early in the night to leave already.
“Yeah, I think so.  It’s a nice event but I think we’re ready to go home, take off the stuffy clothes, and drink,” he gave him a charming, conspiratorial smile. Nobody their age wanted to be here and they all knew it.
“Oh that sounds like a brilliant plan,” the blonde woman next to Tim grinned.  “I wish we could do that.  But we have to at least wait until the announcement.  And we can’t drink.  But it would help handle events like this.”  She gave them a wide smile and held out her hand.  “I’m Stephanie.  Nice to meet you.”
Adrien smiled politely back.  “Adrien.  Hi.”
Marinette smiled civilly.  “Marinette.  Nice to meet you.”
Stephanie’s smile widened.  “Oh Timmy, make sure to keep this one away from Bruce.  Black hair, blue eyes, looks beautiful but haunted. He’ll adopt her in an instant.”
Tim laughed and rolled his eyes, drawing Stephanie’s attention to him, both of them missing the way Marinette and Adrien balked and Marinette’s entire body went rigid again.  “Bruce’s breaking that habit with today’s announcement.”
Adrien paled slightly.  This could go nowhere good, but it was like watching an akuma hit someone when you’re too far away to help.  It was going to happen no matter what.  The damage would be inestimable and all he could do was watch as it got worse and worse.  “Oh?”
“Yeah, our new brother… or rather their new brother, I’m not officially adopted, just unofficially the favorite child,” Steph winked at them.  Tim huffed playfully but didn’t contradict her.  It was easier to just let it go.  “Anyway, the new Wayne doesn’t have blue eyes. Does have black hair, is beautiful and looks haunted, so maybe it’s just the blue eyes that don’t matter so much anymore.”
“N…new brother?” Adrien stuttered, struggling to keep his voice even and polite.  The normal reaction to such news would be interest and happiness.  Well, they certainly had his interest.  The happiness part though…  He pulled Marinette tighter as he sent her a furtive look.  She was doing an admirable job of masking her response but he knew her. He knew the signs.  He knew her lips were a bit tighter than usual.  He knew her jaw was clenched harder than was normal.  He knew her breathing was harder than average.  He knew he shouldn’t be able to feel her pulse from here.
“Yeah!” Stephanie enthused.  “Duke.”
“We were supposed to wait for the announcement,” Tim chastised with no real heat behind his words.  “But yes.  That’s what this gala is really for.  To officially announce the adoption of Duke Thomas.  So, yet another ‘poor orphan’ joins the rest of us,” he joked.  “I swear Bruce just can’t help himself.  He sees a kid and instantly feels the need to protect and help.”
“So thoughtful,” Marinette rasped out, pretending like her entire chest wasn’t breaking apart and disintegrating in front of them.  “You must all be so excited.”
Tim looked at her for a moment but before he could analyze her tone or body language, they heard someone tapping on a microphone.  “That’s our cue,” Stephanie squealed.  “Looks like you might make it for the announcement after all.  It was nice to meet you if I don’t see you after.”  Tim and Stephanie waved before making their way to the stage.
Once the two were gone, Marinette’s eyes bulged as Tim’s words reverberated in her head.  This whole thing was to introduce a new child, another new child he took in, another addition to his family, another child he wanted and brought into his life instead of throwing them out.  Her eyes darted among the family members as they all made their way up onto the stage.  All standing behind the new member, smiling at him, hugging him, eyes shining in acceptance for him.  One big happy family, not wanting for anything… or anyone.
Marinette didn’t realize she had stopped breathing until her body forced a deep gasping breath, knocking her out of her stupor. She tore her eyes away so violently, she stumbled back, or maybe it was just that her resilience had disappeared with the words.  They should not be here.  They… she should never have come.  This was a stupid, terrible plan.  She had no right to intrude.  She had no right to be here… for this.
Her heart raced out of control.  Her whole body started shaking.  She couldn’t breathe.  Why couldn’t she breathe now?  But suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room.  Why wasn’t there air?  There had been air before, hadn’t there been?  She remembers being able to breathe earlier.  She thinks.  Maybe she made that up.  Maybe she hadn’t been able to breathe since she stepped in the room.
She stumbled again and reached out for support, never doubting it would be there for her.  Adrien responded instantly, bringing her into his chest and quickly guiding her out of the gala.  He whispered comforting and reassuring words as they moved, throwing empty smiles at anyone who bothered looking their way, as though helping his drunk date home, nothing scandalous or even unusual, nothing to look twice at.
They missed the eyes searching the crowd for them and the quickly covered up frown at finding them missing.
Chapter 3
Tags:
@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger 
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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years
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coping mechanisms : a.h
everyone has their ways of coping with traumatic events, but it’s finally time you faced yours. (2.5K)
m y  e t s y  s h o p
also pls don’t steal my work or share it without crediting, it takes a lot of time and effort to write these!
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Sitting on the jet, you were abnormally quiet. Usually, the team couldn’t get you and Spencer to stop talking about anything and everything. Yet today, a strange silence loomed over you as Spencer rambled on about statistics, whilst Hotch tried to catch gaze from across the table that everyone besides you noticed.
“You know, based on Greek mythology, Ares is the God of War, son of Hera and Zeus and is one of the twelve Olympians. He’s also the equivalent of Mars in Roman mythology.” Spencer finishes his explanation with a small smile towards the team as your eyes remain fixated on the case file in front of you, something that didn’t go amiss by Hotch.
“So, this unsub thinks of himself as a God?” JJ questions as she scrolls through the various photos on her tablet of the nine victims so far.
“Each one has a new symbol on them, you see, on their wrists?” You finally speak up to everyone’s surprise. “Spence, are these symbols correlating to the other eleven Olympians?” You ask, focusing on your best friends gaze as his smile meets his eyes.
Taking in all of the images, Spencer nods. “It looks that way, but this one here, the sun which would symbolise Apollo, the God of archery, music, dance, healing diseases, truth and prophecy, and more recognisably sun and light. But it isn’t quite complete, looks as if the unsub was interrupted.” Spencer explains, watching as your interest quickly declines, and you lean back into your seat.
“Maybe there will be some security footage outside of the bar leading toward the alleyway the victim was found.” Hotch states, closing his case file as the jet begins to descend. “Morgan, I want you and JJ to go to the ME’s office, see if the symbols all correlate and any other marks that may be on the victims. Rossi, you and Reid go to the crime scene where Olivia Collins was found, see if anyone in the area saw anything. Y/n, you and I will go to the station.” Hotch tries to see if you’ll even focus on him, but you’ve retreated into yourself, shut down.
Eventually, you nod along with everyone else, unaware of the concern etched in Hotch’s hardened expression as you close your eyes, rubbing your temple as you lean against the window.
*
“Agent Hotchner?” A man walks over to you and Hotch, holding his hand out. “Officer Richards, a pleasure to meet you.”
“This is SSA Y/L/N, where would you like us to set up?” Hotch asks as you follow behind him to a free room, passing the blur of noise of phone calls and officers talking. “Y/n?” Hotch calls out your name, snapping out of your daze.
“Sorry,” You apologise, feeling the heat rising through your cheeks as Hotch hums to himself.
“Is something wrong, Y/n?” Hotch questions as he sits down beside you in the private office, his hands resting on the table. “If there is, you can tell me, especially if it affects your ability to work on the case.” Hotch tells you, his voice softer as your eyes grow heavy once more as you hide your hands in your lap.
“I don’t know Hotch,” You sigh. “and that’s the issue.”
Rising to his feet, Hotch closes the door to the room, shutting out the noise from the rest of the station as he returns to his seat beside you. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you? You seemed jittery on the jet.” Hotch states, not even needing you to agree with him.
“I just,” You struggle to form the correct words as you focus on your boss who looks back at you with a gentle expression. “I’m not feeling like myself, Hotch. And I just, I don’t know what to do about it anymore.”
Silence falls over you both as you play with the hem of your shirt, not wanting to face your bosses reaction. “Is it related to Utah?” Hotch watches as you tense at the mention of it. “If it is, you’re still entitled to see someone about it, Y/n.”
“But it was months ago, Hotch.” You comment quickly. “I should be over it, I moved on, I got better.” You explain. “So why is it now coming back to haunt me?” You exhale deeply.
“What happened to you in Utah isn’t something you can just walk away from, Y/n. You were captured and beaten, held at gunpoint in front of all of us to watch.” Hotch pauses as tears form in your eyes, one escaping as it glides across your cheek.
It was a sight Hotch will never be able to forget. He was the first one to find you in that building as you lay on the ground too weak to move. You were muttering nonsense as you screamed in pain when he tried to help you to your feet.
You were gone for three weeks, and in that time you were filmed being tortured and threatened to be killed whilst your team watched on a live stream. Hotch had never felt so useless since Hayley had died, and he didn’t dare want to risk losing you too, even if he had never said anything about how he felt.
“I know, I just want to forget about it.” You admit, wiping your eyes quickly with the cuff of your sleeve. “I have to.” You forcefully state before reaching over for the case files, but Hotch places his hand on the file, stopping you from taking it.
“Y/n,” Hotch starts with his authoritative tone. “you need to speak to someone when the case is over, and that’s an order.”
“I will, Hotch.” You force a small smile, taking the file and delving in deeper to the evidence that’s been collected so far.
“I’m saying that as your boss, and, and as a friend, okay?” Hotch adds softly, witnessing your forced smile soften into something genuine, even if it were for a split second, it returned.
*
You were getting closer, four more bodies had been found with the symbols of Hermes, Ares, Posideon and Hades carved into their wrists.
“What if the unsub knows we’re onto him? And this is his endgame now?” JJ suggests.
“But he hasn’t finished all twelve.” You state bluntly, ignoring the look on JJ’s face as you rise to your feet and look over the victim pool once more.
“Maybe that doesn’t matter to him.” Hotch comments, stepping toward you as he stands by your side, his back turned to everyone else. “Keep level, Y/L/N.” He mutters to you, a shudder going through your body as Hotch averts his attention back to the rest of the team. “Each of his victims has been associated in some way with each Olympian. Maybe he doesn’t have all twelve in the first place.”
“He’s halfway through the twelve though, why stop now?” Emily speaks up as Garcia interrupts and appears on the screen.
“Good afternoon my favourite crime fighters. I’ve discovered something that I think might help with your suspect pool.” Garcia states brightly. “It looks as if the victims were all part of the same after school club in High School. All from different friend groups and societies, but they all attended the Greek mythology club at Preston State.”
“How many others were involved in this group, baby girl?” Morgan asks, leaning forward as you listen to the sound of Garcia typing becoming further and further away.
“Four others. There’s Hayden Lewis who is currently serving seven months in jail for possession of drugs, Jordan Littlewood, she moved upstate to Michigan last year, Elise Harding and oh,” Garcia pauses, and you zone back into the room as you reach for the back of a chair to support yourself on.
“What?” JJ enquiries as Penelope pushes her glasses back up her nose, focusing on the camera.  
“When the group was in school, there was a fire in the same block that the club was held in. It says that six students and one teacher were killed in the accident, including Greek mythology club member, Timothy Cardel.” Garcia sadly sighs.
“What time of day did the fire occur Garcia?” Spencer leans forward in his chair, and you can see the cogs whirring behind his eyes.
“Erm,” Garcia hums to herself until she clicks on something. “3:35 pm on a Tuesday.”
“What’re you thinking, Reid?” Hotch focuses on Spencer as you take a seat, catching Hotches eye for a split second before Spencer starts to explain his thought process.
“Most school clubs happen after school, meaning there’s a high possibility the Greek mythology club was held on a Tuesday after school, and all the members were there when the fire happened. If school finishes at 3, then they would’ve all been in that building when the fire started.” Spencer explains, and you nod along.
“Meaning Timothy got left behind.” You state coldly, all eyes turning to you.
“I think we’re ready to deliver the profile,” Hotch announces as he rises to his feet, the rest of you following suit.
*
Fastening the velcro around your vest, you place your gun into its holster, unaware of Hotch hovering by the doorway as you exit.
“Y/n,” Catching you by surprise, you jump before glaring to Hotch. “sorry,” He tries to sound sincere, but a small smile creeps into his face as you relax beside him. “are you sure you want to do this? It might be best if you stay at the station.” Hotch suggests in a low tone.
“No,” You respond too quickly. “I, I want to come. I’m fine, really.” You add, nodding to yourself as you walk on, but Hotch reaches for your arm, pulling you back.
Your eyes focus on his hand resting on your arm, and quickly Hotch removes his hand from your arm. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.” He tells you sincerely, something you’ve heard countless times, but something about this seems different. No one else in the team is around, they’re all outside waiting for you both.
“I won’t.” You mutter in response, moving aside from Hotch as you exit the building, thankful for some fresh air as your vest is starting to feel constrictive.
Upon arriving at the unsubs house, you’re already feeling the humidity getting to you worse than it had been the entire time you’d been in the city. Spencer joked when the jet landed that you’ll get used to it, that fewer layers were key and Garcia would’ve loved a chance to see Morgan in fewer layers; but this was far from pleasant.
As you all filed out, guns at the ready Morgan followed behind Hotch whilst you’re on the tail end of the team.
You were unintentionally squinting as you listen to the sound of Morgan kicking the front door in as Hotch’s firm voice fills your ears.
“Y/n?” Snapping out from the blurred house, three versions of Spencer takes over your peripheral. “Hey, let’s sit down, okay?” Spencer speaks quietly, delicately as he reaches out to take a hold of your arm, but you jolt away.
“Get off me.” You snap, walking past him as your vision only worsens and the humidity seeps through your clothing, itching your skin as each step feels weighted until you reach the steps of the house.
Hotch emerges behind JJ and Morgan as they hold the unsub, passing you quickly, hiding their concerned looks.
“Y/L/N?” Hotch steps closer, capturing a glimpse of panic in your eyes just as you pass out as your head hits the pavement.
*
Cold coffee and stale doughnuts. The well worn in fabric beneath you had a spring sticking out, jabbing against your left thigh. You were back in the station. But what was more surprising was the hushed sound of a conversation ending between two of your colleagues whilst your eyes remained closed.
“Do you think you’ll ever tell her?” Rossi mutters as he averts his gaze from your ‘sleeping’ form to Hotch, who is unable to take his eyes from you for a single second.
“I’m not sure, Dave.” Hotch admits, wanting to reach out and brush the stray hairs out of your face, but he doesn’t want to risk waking you up, not yet at least. “Maybe someday, but not today.”
Rossi tuts to himself. “You’re letting all the good ones slip out of your grasp, Aaron,” Rossi comments. “and you know how much Jack loves her.”
The mention of Jack causes your heart to swell, and it takes everything for you to not smile as you gain consciousness.
“He’s not the only one,” Hotch adds, just as a yawn escapes your lips and you begin to open your eyes.
“Hey sleeping beauty,” Rossi speaks up, rising to his feet whilst Hotch stays glued to his chair beside you.
Slowly, you try to sit upright but Hotch leans forward, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “I’d just stay lying for a while if I were you.” Hotch suggests as you nod along, forcing yourself back down.
“I’ll go check on the others, let them know you’re alright.” Rossi excuses himself, leaving a heavy silence over you and Hotch.
“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” Hotch asks, his stern gaze concentrated on the exhaustion in yours.
“No time like the present.” You force a laugh, ignoring Hotch’s prior suggestion and sit upright as a slight pang crosses your temples. “I’m going to take some leave when we get back to Quantico.” You tell Hotch, watching as he nods.
“I think it’s for the best, Y/L/N.” He responds, catching the sight of your leg bouncing for a moment before you rest your hand on your thigh, forcing it to remain still.
“I know I’m due for a lecture, and a debriefing about the mission,” You hold back the urge to sigh, but Hotch beats you to it as a heavy sigh leaves his lips, causing you to smile.
The sight of a smile crossing your face is too contagious at the moment between you both. “We can talk more when we’re back. For now, I think it’s best if we just got you home in one piece.” Hotch stands up and hovers beside you, his arm extended as you gratefully accept.
“Thanks, Hotch.” You smile softly up to him as you exit the sheriff's office and near the rest of your team.
After a series of short questions, you’re all heading towards the jet.
“I couldn’t be happier to go home.” JJ sighs as she rests her head in her hand, looking out at the city as you near the airport.
Sitting beside Hotch in the passenger seat, your eyes glance over to him. “Me too,” You reply, a smile gracing your lips, knowing there’s more yet to be discussed with Hotch, including what he said before you fully woke up. “me too.” 
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beewolfwrites · 3 years
Text
And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Seventeen: Breaking Point
I wasn’t feeling too well while I was editing this, so I’m sorry in advance if the writing isn’t as good. Though I've been through it several times to try and make it better. Hopefully you can still enjoy it :) 
This is a Chishiya x OC/Reader fic, for those who don’t know. If you’d like to catch up with the previous chapters, you can find them all here on AO3. 
Thank you so much for reading!! You guys are amazing <3
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I collapsed to the ground in a shriveled mess of tears and shaking limbs. The rifle had been empty. Either he ran out of bullets and he just rolled with it, or he purposely emptied it beforehand with no intention of killing me. I don’t know how long I sat there on the floor, shivering and telling myself that I was alive, that I was okay, even if my body wasn’t convinced yet.
Eventually, the lights turned off in the hall of mirrors, and I was submerged in near darkness. It should’ve been scarier than it was, but now that there was no light refracting off every surface, and most of my fear had subsided, I could finally see the true path to the exit.
Picking myself up off the ground, I left the building and followed the signs through the park towards the entrance. In the distance, Aguni, Niragi and Last Boss were inspecting their weapons as they approached the car. There was no sign of the fifth member of our group.
Niragi smiled brightly as I appeared. ‘There she is! Our little zebra survived.’
I folded my arms against the cold, avoiding Niragi’s gaze. On the other hand, Aguni frowned when he saw me. ‘Get in the car,’ he said.
I didn’t know if the ride back to the Beach was better or worse than the one going. With our fifth team member dead, Niragi took the front passenger seat, meaning there was room in the back to sit by myself.
But it was impossible not to notice the occasional glance of mild confusion Aguni sent at me through the mirror. ‘彼女を殺さなかったないか,’ he said quietly. You didn’t kill her?
I stiffened in my seat. Aguni knew what Niragi had been up to, but from his bored tone and mild curiosity, he had no interest in my death.
So it’s just Niragi who thinks Chishiya, Kuina and I are plotting something.
Niragi leaned back in his seat, looking at me through the rear-view mirror. ‘まだまだ.’ Not yet.
After that, they talked in hushed tones, and I struggled to understand what they were saying. Only a few feet away, Last Boss was silent. His katana, smeared with blood, was propped up on the back seat.
I couldn’t wait to get back to the Beach.
-------------------------------------------------
It turned out that if you’d been in a game with Niragi, Aguni and Last Boss, returning to the Beach wasn’t just a slip-inside-quietly-and-take-a-shower deal. With one arm around my shoulders, Niragi steered me along with the group as we paraded around the pool.
‘Oi! Turn that music off,’ Niragi snapped at someone, and everything went quiet. All eyes were on us.
This was bad. This was very bad. I didn’t want to be associated with the militants, and the way Niragi had his arm around me, people would think that I was with him, especially considering the rumours floating around about what had happened. Eventually, Aguni stopped when familiar faces came into view.
The boy from the Tag game, the climber girl and Kuina. They were relaxing together on recliners. Before leaving for her game, Kuina had said something about getting to know the boy, and from the looks of things now, they were already in the process of making friends. At the sight of our group, they stopped talking.
Kuina’s eyes instantly landed on me, then widened at the arm around my shoulder. Part of me was silently pleading for her help, but I also didn’t want her to get involved. Knowing Kuina, she was smart enough not to rile up the militants.  
Aguni scanned the two new members. ‘Where’s your friend?’
Does he mean the blond one from the game?
The boy tried to speak but couldn’t bring himself to say anything. It was obvious what had happened.
‘What a shame,’ Aguni said, lazily. ‘So only the small fish survived.’ His eyes roamed over the climber girl, then he nodded to Niragi. ‘Bring that woman over.’
My heart jumped. He was going to take her.
He’s going to do to her what Niragi…
Releasing me, Niragi moved towards the girl. Now free, I took my opportunity and darted away from the group, earning a raised brow from Aguni and a grin from Niragi. He placed his hand on the girl’s arm, beginning to pull her away.
I wanted to protest. I wanted to speak up. But my body refused to cooperate.
Why can’t I say anything?
But to my surprise, someone did interject. The boy.
‘Hey, don’t get involved with this,’ Kuina warned him.
Niragi’s eyes glinted in that familiar way. It had seen it before at the bar, and when he chased me at the theme park and zoo. And now, there it was again. He smiled at the girl. ‘Our boss says he wants to have a taste of you—’
‘I said stop!’ The boy grabbed Niragi’s arm. This couldn’t end well. I waited with bated breath for Niragi to punch him, kick him in the ribs, or even shoot him right there on the spot.
Instead, he shrugged out of the boy’s hold like it was nothing. ‘Boss, what should we do with this brat?’
Please don’t kill him, please don’t kill him.
‘Take him away and break his legs so he’ll die in the next game.’
With one signal from Niragi, several militants from the crowd moved forward to take the climber girl, while Niragi pulled the boy away by the scruff. That was, until the boy tore away from Niragi and darted back to the girl, blocking the militants’ path.
I don’t think I can watch.
Fingers lightly brushed the back of my elbow, and I turned to find Chishiya standing next to me, hood pulled up over his head. His hand retreated back into his pocket as he watched the scene before us. I couldn’t help but relax at his presence.
‘What’s going on over here? Is this a fight?’
Hatter’s voice broke through the crowds, as the Beach’s residents parted to make way. Niragi rolled his eyes.
‘Back off Hatter,’ Aguni said, ‘this doesn’t concern you.’
‘I can’t do that,’ Hatter replied, waving his hands in a regal display. ‘As number-one, I’m obliged to maintain order at the Beach. Could you do me a favour, Aguni, and stop driving the newcomers away?’ When there was no reply, Hatter turned to the others. ‘Niragi?’
Rebellious as always, Niragi simply looked away. ‘I only take orders from the boss.’
‘Then let me ask your boss.’ He squared up to Aguni as they stared each other down. ‘Who’s your boss?’
Beside me, Chishiya hummed ligtly with amusement. The whole pool grew stiff, waiting in anticipation as the two men locked eyes.
‘It’s you, right?’ Aguni said simply.
Hatter stepped away. ‘Go take a shower,’ he muttered, then called out across the pool. ‘I need executives to gather in the meeting room now.’ As Aguni, Niragi and Last Boss disappeared into the hotel, Hatter gestured to the newcomer. ‘You too, Arisu.’
Arisu… so that’s his name.
The two left, and the pool slowly relaxed, the music and bar picking where it had left off. Chishiya brushed past me to join Kuina’s side.
‘So, what do you think about him?’ he asked quietly.
It hurt a little that Chishiya had directed the question so blatantly at Kuina rather than the both of us, but I was too tired to say anything, let alone complain.
‘I like him,’ Kuina said, smiling. Then as if suddenly remembering, she spun around, seeing me hovering behind the recliner. ‘Hey, what was that about before?’ Her eyes dropped to my feet. ‘And where the hell are your shoes?’  
I shook my head. How could I even begin to start telling them was happened in the game? I was still coming to terms with it myself. Chishiya’s eyes slid from my dirtied clothes, to my muddy socks, then back up to mine.  
‘He tried something during your game, didn’t he?’ Kuina muttered.
I wanted to tell her everything, but the words just wouldn’t come out. We were surrounded by people everywhere, and there were a few of them nearby who were looking at us curiously. They were pretending not to listen too much, but from the way their eyes glanced over, it was clear they wanted the latest gossip.
‘Kuina,’ Chishiya said, ‘take her to your room. I’ll join you both after Hatter’s meeting.’
With that, he headed off, leaving Kuina to shield me from prying eyes as we made our way back into the hotel.
------------------------------------------------
I hadn’t intended to cry. In fact, I hated the way I always teared up at everything like a child. But even just talking about the game had brought back the fear of being hunted down by Niragi, and the pure terror of that final moment when I wholeheartedly believed I was going to die.
Stop crying, I told myself, as Kuina passed me another tissue. Stop crying.
We were sitting on Kuina’s bed as I talked through every second of the game, the predators, how Niragi had shot at me from across the park, the bear attack, and then finally, our showdown in the hall of mirrors. I even told her about the conversation in the car, and how Niragi planned to kill me at some point, but only when he was finished having fun.
‘You did pretty well to survive without a weapon,’ she said, impressed. ‘I can’t believe you wrestled a bear.’
‘I didn’t wrestle it, I tased it,’ I pulled the converted Walkman from my pocket and tested the buttons. It was still broken. ‘It didn’t have any effect. It was like the animals weren’t real. They didn’t react to injuries like normal ones would.’
Kuina nodded, understanding. ‘Yeah, I’ve seen animals like that in games before. It’s like they’ve been designed specially to kill players.’
I shuddered at the memory of the bear’s hot fur, the smell of flesh on its breath, the beady darkness of its eyes. Despite the misfortune of the whole game, I was lucky to have survived without a scratch, and that was more than some people could say.
There was a creak as the door opened and Chishiya entered. He pulled up a chair and without needing to be asked, talked us through the executive meeting. As it turned out, there was only one card left to collect – the Ten of Hearts. And with Hatter’s visa running out tomorrow, it meant only one thing: the militant sect was going to take over sooner rather than later.
With his explanation over, Chishiya looked to me, waiting. ‘Your game,’ he said, ‘what happened?’
I repeated everything I’d told to Kuina, but aside from an amused glint or a raised brow, he didn’t seem at all surprised or disturbed. It was only when I finished that he finally spoke.
‘I gave you that taser for Niragi, and you go and waste it on a bear.’
I knew better than to expect sympathy from him by now. ‘I didn’t waste it. The bear would’ve killed me.’
He tilted his head. ‘Actually, from the sounds of it, Niragi saved your life. I’m not sure what there is to cry about.’
‘I’m crying because I thought I was going to die. Maybe not you, but most people would cry in that situation.’ I looked down at the blackened taser in my hands. ‘I’m sorry, I might have broken this though.’
With a hum, he took it from me and gave it a once over. ‘I’ll fix it.’
‘We should do something to get back at him,’ Kuina said quietly. She regarded Chishiya like one would an irresponsible child. ‘This all started because of your feud with him. It’s up to you to fix this.’
He dismissed the idea immediately. ‘Forget about that for now. We’re running out of time and we need to focus on the plan.’
We spent the rest of the evening discussing whether or not the Ten of Hearts would appear. After all, if we stole the Beach’s cards and the final one never showed up, it would be almost pointless. Considering the layout of these games, they were created by people, which meant that someone out there was controlling what cards were assigned to which game. It was as if they were waiting for the perfect opportunity, maybe even a certain condition, to introduce the Ten of Hearts.
Chishiya and I eventually left to head back to our respective rooms. Much to my surprise, he accompanied me all the way to my door, but I didn’t want to question it in case he decided to leave. He didn’t speak much, except to tell me that I could lose the bandages around my arm by now, but the gauze was still a necessity.
When we finally arrived at my door, I hesitated to go inside. ‘Maybe Kuina was right… we should do something about Niragi.’
‘I’m surprised,’ he said, considering me with a sigh. ‘I thought you knew me well by now.’ Then putting in his headphones, he disappeared.
If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed he had no interest or intention of getting back at Niragi. But I did know better. Chishiya wasn’t one to simply ‘react’ to provocation. In fact, he didn’t ‘react’ to anything. He was always one, or even three steps ahead, just how he liked it.
That’s why it didn’t surprise me at all when I later learned that a fire had broken out that night in Niragi’s room.
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heliads · 4 years
Text
Untrustworthy
Your best friend, Stiles, warned you to stay away from Theo Raeken. It wasn’t your intention to ignore that advice, but will you regret it?
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“Look, he just doesn’t seem trustworthy. Something about him is very, very wrong.” You raise your eyebrows as your best friend Stiles paces back and forth in front of you, flinging his hands to the ceiling in an attempt to make you see his point of view. “Look at him! The guy exudes this aura of dishonesty! He’s practically holding up a sign that says ‘Don’t talk to me, I’ll kill all your friends and laugh over their bodies.”
Stiles points dramatically at the boy in question, who is currently sitting at a table in the library, quietly poring over a textbook. You look from Theo back to Stiles, who sighs. “You don’t seem very convinced.” You put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, trying not to laugh. “Well, I certainly don’t see any “I’ll kill your friends” signs, but you never know.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Okay, but I don’t want you going anywhere near him. I just don’t trust him.” As the bell rings overhead and you start moving towards your next class, Stiles blocks your path, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes.
 “I’m serious, Y/N. I don’t trust him, and you’re a good friend of mine. I don’t want you getting hurt.” You smile at your friend, gently moving around him so you can go to class. “I’ll be fine, Stiles. Honestly.” With that, you walk out of the library, leaving Stiles shouting after you. “You better be!”
Next class is AP Biology, and you make your way to your usual seat, opening up your textbook to the proper place and glancing briefly at the board. Genetics- what’s not to love? Your focus on the lesson is broken when you see someone sit down next to you out of the corner of your eye. That’s weird- assigned seats have already been given out and there shouldn’t be anyone there. You suppose that’s why you’re not surprised to see that, of all the people, your new partner is none other than Theo Raeken.
You look at him doubtfully. “You know, I’m supposed to be avoiding you.” Theo just laughs. “Is that what Stiles said? For someone who was trying to be spying on me he was kind of shouting to the entire library about how untrustworthy I am.” You can’t help but grin. “You do realize he’ll kill me for being partners with you. He’s convinced you’re going to kill me if I even walk next to you.” Theo rolls his eyes and pulls out his textbook, opening it to the same chapter as you. “I guess the only thing you can do is not tell him.” You raise your eyebrows. “Keeping secrets from my friends? I thought you were supposed to be convincing me to trust you, not the other way around.” Suddenly, Theo leans over to you, close enough that you’re sure he can hear your heart starting to hammer in your chest. “I’m sure this one secret can’t hurt.”
Ever since that morning, you and Theo have grown very close. First, it was just as biology partners- despite you joking about it, Stiles seemed very sure that Theo was of questionable loyalty and you wanted to follow his advice. So, you refused Theo’s offers to hang out with him after class, and you quickly left your locker the second you saw him walking towards you down the hall.
However, you soon found out that it’s pretty hard to avoid growing close to Theo Raeken when not only he wants your friendship but you want it, too. You find yourself laughing at his jokes, and turning to him when you have a question as opposed to any of your other friends in class. Eventually, when he asks you for your number, you only give it to him with a smile instead of turning him down.
You still feel bad about going against Stiles’ advice, though, and you feel your guilt grow every time Theo’s hand strays for just a second too long and you don’t pull away, or when you don’t seem to have any objections to Theo walking you to your classes. When Theo asks you to a movie over the weekend, you agree, but you still feel bad about it. Maybe you don’t feel quite as bad when he kisses you goodbye, or when you wake up the next morning to him calling you “just to hear your voice.”
After you’ve been dating Theo in secret for a few weeks, you eventually confess that you’re guilty about misleading Stiles. “I know I can trust you, and I know you’re a good person. The problem is, Stiles doesn’t see it that way, and I feel bad every time he tells me to stay away from you.” Theo nods and holds you close, but you’re surprised when you see Theo talking to Stiles alone after school that day. When you walk over to them, making sure to keep out of their sight, you realize that they’re talking about you.
“I need you to believe me, Stiles. I’m not going to hurt Y/N.” Stiles grumbles at Theo’s voice. “Why should I trust you? I know something’s not right, no matter how much you pretend otherwise. Y/N is a good friend of mine, and it’s up to me to make sure that she stays safe. That involves you staying away from her.” Your heart is in your throat. “However, I’m not blind. I can see that she’s happier with you. Just know this: if you do anything to hurt her, I will kill you myself.”
With that, Stiles walks away, leaving you to run over to Theo in excitement. “Did I hear that right? Is he really going to let you-” You’re cut off by Theo kissing you. “Yeah, he’s okay with it. Didn’t I tell you?” You laugh at that, and let Theo walk you to your car.
Now that you don’t have to feel bad about seeing Theo, you feel happier than you have in a long time. Theo becomes a shield against everything bad that seems to be happening, which is good, because the Dread Doctors seem to be a worse foe than you and your friends have faced in a while. When Scott gives you a copy of the book on the Dread Doctors, you’re horrified by memories brought on by reading the pages. When you finally surface from the dark times of your past, Theo is holding you, gently wiping away your tears. “It’s alright, Y/N. You’re with me now. I promise, no one is going to hurt you ever again.”
And you had believed him. It seemed like it was true, after all- every time the Dread Doctors showed up, he was there to protect you. Every time you needed someone, he was there. You let yourself open up to him, and you loved him.
Now, he stands in front of you, claws dripping scarlet. The blood is starting to pool around Scott’s body, but all you can seem to do is just stand there.
“I believed in you. I trusted you.” That’s all you can say, barely two sentences. It takes everything you have to gasp out those words, but you still watch Theo wince just the same. He starts to take a slow step towards you, but you draw back in fear. “Don’t come near me.” You hold up your hands in front of you, and Theo stops moving. “I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. This was the only way.” Theo’s trying to explain himself now, but it doesn’t matter. You raise your voice and call out to Mason and Melissa, who are somewhere behind you. “He’s in here!”
At the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, Theo takes one last look at you, and then drags himself away to leave just as Melissa enters the library. Her scream at the sight of her son is just how you feel, left alone with your broken heart.
You find yourself sitting alone in your house that night. You can’t bring yourself to call your friends, or do anything except sit there. Once it was clear that Melissa had saved Scott’s life and that he was going to be alright, you had apologized over and over. Your friends said it wasn’t your fault, that you had no way of knowing that Theo was going to betray you, but yet you know it isn’t true. Stiles had warned you all those weeks ago, and you should have listened to him. You let Theo get close to you and the pack, you had convinced Stiles that he could be trusted, and now your friend had died. You knew the plan- pretend Scott was dead to fool Theo into thinking he had won, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to be seeking Theo out any time soon.
However, it seems like you don’t really have a choice in the matter. You’re distracted from your reverie by a knock at the door, and you force yourself to stand up and answer it. The second you open the door and see who’s there, you try to slam the door closed, but Theo’s already put his hand out to stop it.
“Please, Y/N. I need to talk to you.” You look at him, feeling nothing except heartbreak. “Why should I talk to you?” Theo forces the door open and lets himself in. All you can do is stare at the boy you once loved, now only a few feet away. “I love you, Y/N. That never changed. The Dread Doctors-” You cut him off angrily. “Forget the Dread Doctors! This was all you. You know, you really had me convinced. You promised me that you loved me, and that you would never hurt me. Did you think killing my friend wouldn’t hurt me? When were you going to kill me, too?”
Theo flinches at your harsh tone. “I would never hurt you, Y/N. No matter what, I never would. The Dread Doctors promised me that if I killed Scott, they wouldn’t come after you. I would do anything to protect you.” You shake your head, feeling tears threaten to come but doing your best to hold them back. “Don’t put this on me! I loved you. I told myself that I could trust you. After all this, though, I wish I could have told myself to never get close to you. I wish I could have saved myself the trouble.”
Theo moves closer to you, silently begging you to understand him. “Y/N, please. I need you to know that I regretted everything I’d done the second I fell in love with you. This seemed like the only way out, and so I took it. I wish I never was associated with the Dread Doctors, that I could be the person you want me to be, but I’m not.” You nod in agreement, and Theo starts to look hopeful. “You know, you’re right.” Theo looks up at you, realizing what you’re saying. “I wish you weren’t the first chimera, I wish you weren’t the boy that broke my heart and promised me love and safety when he couldn’t give them to me. The only thing I can do to save myself now is to make sure you never hurt me again.”
Something in Theo’s eyes shatters, and you force yourself to look away from him and push him out the door. “Stay away from me, you hear? Don’t ever come back.” Theo isn’t fighting you to open the door anymore, and something about that breaks your heart. “I have always loved you, Y/N. That will never change.” Theo speaks the one last time before you close the door. Through the window, you see him press one hand to the door, tears starting to slip down his cheeks. He says something you can’t quite make out, then turns and walks away slowly.
Once he’s gone, you slump down to the floor, finally letting out the tears you’ve been holding back. Was it worth it to protect yourself? Is it worth it to know that the boy you love is gone, after you pushed him away? You know he betrayed you, and you know he is responsible for the death of his friend, and yet the one last thing tucked away in the damaged shards of your heart is the fact that even those crimes still don’t feel like enough to let him go.
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renee-writer · 3 years
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Lost Chapter 21 Home Visit
AO3
“Well I didn’t expect to be here this soon.” John announces as he enters Lallybroch. “ Not that I am not happy to be here.”
 
“We appreciate it.” John raises his eyebrows at the ' we’  but doesn’t say anything.
 
“Really happy to be of service.”  They walk in the small living room beside the Great Room. “I have some news myself but let me see to Lady Jane first.”
 
“What do you..?” his friend shook his head. Jamie sighs. He knows his mate is right. Her mental health comes first but, if he has information that can lead to her identity..
 
“Dr. Grey.” She sits crossed legged on the couch, her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes, tell the tale of her rough night.
 
“You may call me John, if you wish, seeing as we are outside the hospital. I am sorry for your rough night, Lady Jane.”
 
“Thank you John. It wasn’t … I am not saying I am glad I had such a horrid dream but, if it helps me figure out who I am,” she shrugs, “ I don’t know. I was going to say it would be worth it. But will it. If I am in any way associated with that creature that…” She starts to shake and Jamie is at her side, drawing her back into his arms. She holds tight to him as she continues. “I both long to know and am afraid to.”
 
“Those are perfectly natural and valid feelings.” He takes a seat across from them. “If you feel comfortable, will you tell me about the dream?” She nods and, from the safety of Jamie’s arms, does. “It felt like a memory and that this person was someone you know?”
 
“Yes. I have experienced this.” She nods her head as  she speaks. “I am certain.”
 
“Alright. We can try to bring the memory forth more. Would you be interested in doing that?”
 
“I know we need to but…”
 
“No, we don’t need to, not if you aren’t comfortable.” He leans forward, his hands on his knees.
 
“But don’t I owe it to whoever that poor girl was to see her found, her murderer found?”
 
“Not as much as you owe it to yourself not to push beyond what you are comfortable with. There is also the baby to consider.”
 
Her hands go to her stomach, releasing the grip they had on Jamie’s shirt as she had explained the dream. The baby. With everything that was going on, there are large blocks of time that she forgets she is pregnant. “Right. I … that’s right. Can I think on it? Wait, first, what would be involved?”
 
“You may, of course. As for what would be involved, we could try getting an artist in to draw what you saw. It may help unlock more memories. But the most effective, would be hypnosis.” She bites at her lip. Her hands worry the material of her shirt. “Neither is a decision you need to make today.”
 
“Good. Thank you John.”
 
“As I told Jamie when I came in, I have some news. It may be helpful towards finding your identity.”
 
Her hands still on her lap and she looks up at him. “Crips John, what is it?” He smiles at the change in her demeanor. A bit of fight. It was good to see.
 
“The hospital was contacted by someone who saw your picture in a hospital in London. She claims to recognize you.” Both Jamie and Lady Jane breath out at the word ‘she.’
 
“Well, that is wonderful. Who is she? Who does she say I am?” her eyes shine with excitement.
 
“She is a nurse by the name of Laughaire Mackenzie. Lady Jane, she says you are a doctor named Claire Randall. Any of that ring a bell?”
 
An immediate memory. A lass with blonde hair and blue eyes. Short with an easy smile and a slight Scottish accent. She stands, a patient’s chart in her hands as they laugh together. The memory fades as a man walks in. She, Laughaire dislikes, no loathes him. Her husband? Hers? Claire’s? She feels their eyes on her. She closed them to better focus.
 
“A blonde with a nice laugh. A nurse?”
 
“The nurse is right. We haven’t seen her. She just called.”
 
“Yes, I.. a quick memory. We are standing in the hospital. Laughing about something. Until..”
 
“Until?” Jamie asks.
 
“Him. He came in. Laughaire can’t stand him. I didn’t see more felt… I think he is my husband and the monster in my dream.”
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pearl-blue-musings · 3 years
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Perchance to Meet pt 6.
Hi fam!
Sorry this took awhile to come out! This took lots of more of my time to come up with and I wanted it to be what I had envisioned so it took longer!
Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x fem!reader
Warnings: slight abuse, mentions of abuse, some angst and some fluff?
I think this will have one more part but yeah we’re getting near the end! 
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 7)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The pride Aizawa has for his students is off the charts as he sits with some of them. He, along with some other well-known heroes have been called in for an extensive mission. Sir Nighteye and his assistant and sidekick Bubble Girl go over the mission.
He takes in the details about Overhaul, or also known as Chisaki Kai and logs it into his memory. He also takes in how his students are handling the grueling information, most notably being careful of his common problem child who ran into the little girl they’re planning on saving as well. He watches the videos of the surveillance done on the men that Overhaul keeps company. Watching for patterns, where they go, what they do etc. However, a particular picture and set of videos cause his heart to skip a beat.
There is Overhaul, at two places he knows all too well.
If Aizawa is panicked he doesn’t show it. But he’s internally trying to find the connection as to why he would visit the places (Y/n) works. It could all be a pure coincidence and that’s what he’s hoping for. There’s no way she would associate herself with someone like that willingly. If she was that kind of person, he would have detected it on her and not gotten himself involved with her. But what if he’s wrong? He has been wrong before, but he knows he isn’t wrong about this.
The meeting ends with final words and plans on what to do. There are some who are unsure of the plan, especially if it involves children aiding them but he knows better. The plan seems entirely logical so long as everything accordingly and everyone brings their A game.
Aizawa prepares to leave the meeting room when he is stopped by a gloved hand. “Sir Nighteye needs to see you briefly, can you hang back?” Aizawa shrugs his shoulders at Bubble Girl and goes back to his seat. He sees Mirai set up another slide show and begins to wonder what this is about and why only he was held back.
“Eraserhead, we’ve done some other research and recon and would like to inform you of another side mission along with the main task at hand.”
He sees Shouta nod and he urges Bubble Girl to show him the video.
“We found this video the other day. The date shows this happened a couple weeks ago. There used to not be a camera here but because of an incident involving an employee, the establishment added it.”
When the video starts, all he sees is Overhaul, his minions, and what seems to be a client buying his product. He starts to take in the background and notices he’s been there many times before. He keeps his stoic face as the video fast forwards to more action. Something happens and part of the camera is covered in blood, obstructing the view partially. Then he sees the door of the building open up
And there she is.
The expression on her face is one he’d hoped he’d never have to see. She’s terrified, flabbergasted, and now covered in blood. He can’t hear anything but now he sees that all eyes are on her. He can see (Y/n) attempting to bargain with who he assumes is Chisaki, and then for him the unthinkable happens.
Her body goes limp as she’s being apprehended and taken away.
Aizawa isn’t one to lose his cool, but that made him jump out of his seat. The two heroes in front of him glance at each other and stop the video. They give him a couple minutes to truly digest what he saw.
“We know that you had a special connection to (Y/f/n). Overhaul not only has a child, but an innocent civilian that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Clearly, stopping Overhaul and saving the child are most important, but this young woman has been considered missing.” Sir Nighteye pauses and then continues.
“We had to keep quiet about all aspects of this mission and keep this info from the public in order for the plan to work and succeed. I’m sure you understand.” He practically answers Aizawa’s unasked emotional question.
Aizawa sighs deeply, “I get it. What does this have to do with me?”
“You might be the only one who can rescue her. There’s already a lot on this mission that we don’t want to overwhelm anyone, but since it’s you we know you can handle it. Besides, she knows you.”
He can’t get the sight of (Y/n) being hurt and taken out of his head. This is what he wanted to avoid by being with her but apparently not. No matter what he does or tries people he cares about will be in danger because of him. So, logically, what should he do with his emotions and the woman that has invaded every fiber of his being?
He contemplates his next move as he steps out to see his students.
******************
The sound of a metal door clicking closed rouses her from her sleep. Her eyes are slow to adjust to the dim lights that barely reflect off of the cold tile floors beneath her. The four walls around her are plain, nothing on them except for the 28,643 spots that litter them. (Y/n) tugs at her arm and remembers that her arms are chained to a nearby wall. The chains are long enough for her to move with limited mobility but not enough for her to reach the door.
Her eyes and nose lead her to an object on the ground by the door. It looks like her morning meal as she crawls over to the bowl, plate, and cup. She’s starting to regret telling him what her favorite go to breakfast was because this was all she’s had for… Shit how long has she been here? A week? Two weeks?
Her first couple of days she resisted eating anything that was given to her as a form of protest. That earned her Overhaul using his quirk on her, whimpers and yells emitting from her throat at the pain until he put her back to normal. The next time she disobeyed him, he took it out on Eri. The way the “no” escaped her lips, dry from lack of use and childlike in her fear, he knew her soft spot.
Which is why she’s eating now. (Y/n) must be close to to Eri’s room or something because she hears her screams almost as if they’re right in the room with her. It rattles her to the bone, hearing such an innocent girl screaming, yelling, and thrashing in pain. It made her sick. How could that man, no monster, do this? She can’t believe she fell for his act, those eyes and that voice that could persuade anyone got to her. The feel of bile fills her throat the more she thinks about him, Eri, and where she is.
(Y/n) can’t help the tears that fall freely down her face as she thinks of Eri. But also of Aizawa. Fuck, she wishes he was here assuring her that everything would be fine. He’d save her from here, they’d apologize for all the words and nasty feelings shared and then live happily ever after the end.  But she knew better than to think like that. All that did was earn her talks with Overhaul. Sometimes he wouldn’t lay a hand on her but if she was acting out he’d just grab her jaw aggressively, playing with her inevitable death, but always repeating the same things:
“You shouldn’t have been there, Angel”
“Well I did want you to myself eventually but I’m sad it had to be this way”
“Eri would be very upset if you didn’t eat, she hates hearing you cry”
“This is all your fault you know”
Yesterday’s was a new and longer one
“No one will come save you, you quirk can’t save you. You’re such an admirable person that I wanted to love but with your insistence that some hero, someone with a quirk unfit for this world will come to you, you are just like them. Disposable.”
The bruises on her jaw had just healed from the last time but they can match the ones that fade and return on her wrists and anywhere some random hooligan had dared touched her.
(Y/n) finishes her food and pushes the empty dishes toward the door. Usually they’re picked up immediately, followed by pairs of feet walking outside. However, this morning is different. No one comes to pick up her dishes and there’s no one walking outside her door.
What the hell is going on?
Her confusion deepens as her door is swung open forcefully, knocking the plates over making a loud sound. She defensively puts up her hands to block out the person and the light emanating from behind them. When nothing happens, she moves her hands and sees another person she’s come to hate strongly. The white haired man in front of her says nothing as he walks up to her, noticing her body flinching upon their close proximity. Most of his body is covered in a long white jacket and there’s another plague mask hanging out of a pocket. She can feel his breath on her cheek as he unlocks her chains, toying with her emotional state.
Once the cuffs fall freely to the floor, he grabs her wrist and commands, “Come with me.”
********************
It was hard for him to believe what he was seeing in front of him but he pounced into action. Aizawa immediately sees Overhaul takes his quirk. Upon entering the strange cave, he sees the girl in question being protected and shielded by two of some of the best students he’s ever seen. Before he’s able to do more damage and prevent Overhaul from using his quirk further, he’s abruptly taken away from the fight from one of his lackeys, his right-hand man if he is correct.
He lands in an unfamiliar room and is on high alert but thrown off from being attacked. Eraserhead quickly does surveillance but is cut short by an attack from behind. He feels his body slowing and only slightly panics. Then he hears a voice above him begin to talk and mumble to himself about Overhaul and their plan. With his face and body connected to the floor he’s rendered immobile. For the most part he tunes out the figure looming over him until particular words catch his ears.
“I do want to kill you, but it would be better with an audience don’t you think?”
A strong hand grips Aizawa’s hair and force his eyes up and ahead. It takes a while for his eyes to adjust to the room. In front of him is a chair; how long had that been there? What’s more important is who’s sitting in the chair.
It takes more strength than he would like to admit when he sees (Y/n)’s limp. She’s breathing, barely but breathing. He can’t fully investigate the state of her body but he can tell that they had gotten to her. Fuck, he wants to reach out and pull her close but there’s a number of factors preventing him from doing so; other than being held down against his will.
“It’s pitiful really, to see you with such a unique quirk reduced to this. I can feel how much this hurts you to see her but I’ll end that soon.”
The blade that was meant for the black haired man never came, as the door behind them is burst open and Chronostasis is apprehended. Aizawa reclaims mobility in his body and pushed himself off the ground to see an injured Suneater holding onto an unconscious Lemillion. Relief floods his body as the police capture the Shie Hassaki aide and exhales deeply. He turns on his heel quickly to find (Y/n) and get her the help she needs.
“Eraserhead, who is that?”
He approaches her body and kneels down. “Hey, (Y/n) can you hear me?” He lightly taps her cheek and sees remnants of bruising. He lowers his voice so no one else can hear, “Kitten please wake up.” He continues to trace his fore finger and thumb along her cheek to rouse her.
His heart drops when he notices her lips move. “Ung, Sho-“
“Sh sh sh,” he coos, “don’t talk. I’m going to pick you up okay?” Aizawa carefully checks for any restraints and seeing that there are none, picks her up bridal style and begins to take you toward the police.
Now that they are in the light, tears threaten to build behind his eyes upon really seeing her. Discolored skin around her wrists, neck, jaw, and ankles lets him know that she was held here for too long and was possibly, no for sure hurt and abused. Aizawa does his best to keep her body still while rushing toward the surface where he knows she can get help. He feels her cold finger touch his neck making him stop. “We have to keep moving, kitten.”
“Where’s Eri… He was, he was hurting her. Please we have to…”
His almond eyes soften. Even though she’s hurting and in pain, probably closer to death than she’d ever been before her heart still goes out to others. Aizawa isn’t entirely sure of her whereabouts but he needs to keep pressing on. “She’s safe. She’s being rescued just like you are right now.”
(Y/n) nods and then rests her head to his chest clinging on to the familiar amidst the strange. The police and a couple other heroes are all heading toward the top of the building to meet up with the rest of the teams involved. Aizawa holds her tightly against his chest, relishing in this feeling that he knows won’t last forever.
Upon reaching the morning light and bumbling sounds of sirens and commotion, Aizawa treks toward an open ambulance. He drops her off with a medic and hurriedly asks them to look over (Y/n). He hesitantly walks away but turns to see your face, an all too familiar look of knowing that he never wants to see. Her eyes are telling him to go because it’s his job and his job comes first. He’s gonna come back he promises, once he finds Eri.
When (Y/n) wakes again, she finds herself surrounded by bright white and beeps. It doesn’t take as long for her to come to her senses. There’s a drip inserted into her arm and exhales. She notices the wraps and bandages around her previously open wounds and bruises. They are still sensitive to the touch as a reminder that everything that happened had actually occurred. She’s lucky to see clock and calendar near her bed.
Two weeks.
Two whole weeks she was gone. Did anyone notice? How was her shop? Oh God what about Eri? What about the little girl she yearned to see again but couldn’t what happened-
“You’re awake.”
Aizawa stands in the doorway of her room with a small grin. He’s not entirely sure what to do. Is he allowed to rush to you and comfort you? He came out relatively unscathed, but has to deal with a student and a colleague who lost a mentor and friend. That was harsh losing the one who told him about (Y/n)’s whereabouts in the first place.
Her voice is still hoarse from lack of use and malnutrition. “How’s Eri?”
“She’s having fevers from over using her quirk but she’s stable. I’ll be staying by her side to monitor her with my quirk.”
“I see.”
Silence falls between the former couple as they both struggle to find words to say. He knows he needs to go check on Eri but he knows he’s needed and wanted here. He slowly walks in and shuts the door behind him. The look on her face is one of shock, probably because she didn’t expect the work driven man to stay with her, a mere civilian.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Aizawa takes a chair and goes up to her bed to be closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “I wanted to protect you from this. I didn’t want you hurt because of me.” He pauses to collect his next words.
“(Y/n), I,” he looks up to meet her gaze, “I love you. So much so that it scared me. But what scared me most these last couple of months was not knowing how you were, or where you were. And when I found out that you were taken, I couldn’t show it but I was frightened.”
“Shota…”
He squeezes her hand that snuck its way into hers. “No please, let me finish. I’ve lost someone close to me before and I didn’t want to feel that again. My job, my students, they are my life. Then you showed up and changed everything. I was happy and content for once but once the threat of villains increased I figured it was better to have you alive and hate me, than be dead because you loved me.
“I couldn’t do that to someone I care about.” All the emotions Aizawa had held in for too long come flowing out. Small and few tears fall down his face as he buries his head into (Y/n)’s bed. “I didn’t want to say what I said that day, but I wanted to protect you and myself,” his confession comes out muffled from his face being buried in the sheets. He feels a dry hand caress his cheek and he meets her gaze.
“Shota,” she cries, tears falling freely. “I missed you so much.” She coughs as her crying causes her to hiccup. “I wanted to be mad but I couldn’t. I wanted to hate you but I couldn’t. And I wanted-mmph!”
Aizawa interrupts her wailing by placing his lips on hers carefully. He holds her face in his hands and wipes her tears gently with is thumb. The simple gesture sends butterflies to her stomach that she hasn’t felt in too long as they separate.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“God Kitten I missed you.” He brings her in for another kiss, this one stronger and more intentional than before. The kiss was filled with unspoken apologies, whispers of love, and admittance of wrongdoing. The hero was careful with (Y/n) as he pulled her toward him, to hold onto her a little tighter. A cough breaks the spell cast on the two rekindled lovers. Aizawa does his best to hide his annoyance and the awful timing at whomever was at the door. It amused (Y/n) to see that he hadn’t changed too much.
“Um, Sen-I mean Eraserhead? They need you to see Eri-chan. Should I leave or-?”
“No Midoriya, it’s fine,” he scoffs out. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there okay?”
The young up and coming hero was clearly flustered at the scene in front of him and from his teacher calling him by his real name. “Yes sir! But shouldn’t we be using our hero names?”
“We’re safe here. Also, this is long overdue but this is (Y/f/n)
“My girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?!” The green haired teen kindly meets her and bows to the both of them as he takes his leave. He turns around to view the couple one more time. He notes that he’s never seen his teacher look at anyone so softly, well maybe with Eri-chan but…
“Geez, why do I always have to be the first one to know crazy news?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist!: @kiribaku-queen @cupcake-rogue @shinsouskitten @prk-pyo @therealwalmartjesus @susceptible-but-siriusexual 
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im-thinking-arson · 3 years
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Hi wow depression is a hell of a thing.
I'm sorry for the relative silence here, considering everything that has been going on in the last (roughly) year and a half it has been really hard to focus on any creative outlets. Everything has felt pretty heavy as I have been piecing together what exactly happened to myself and the people I used to share a community with.
Although my former FC is basically non-existent at this point, I feel it is appropriate to say that I no longer associate with its' leader @morganaux (sernoudenet on Twitter and formerly here) and to clarify why.
I have been struggling with what to even say about the situation. There are so many layers that I don't honestly know if any single cross-section could explain all there is to unpack. When it takes multiple people six months to explore everything they know as fact... I think that shows its not so much of a 'he said, they said' scenario as the few people who still support Morgy have tried to claim.
I feel guilty not speaking up sooner, considering this person is a member of the FFXIV community who I'm fairly sure some of my mutuals follow. Its so hard to speak out when he publicly acts innocent, like he has quietly moved on and refuses to acknowledge what he's done.
The reality feels so cold in contrast, with the knowledge I have- that he has done this multiple times before, burning down or wearing down those he has hurt with false sincerity; claiming innocence, claiming people misunderstand the significance of the intentions behind the knives in their backs, claiming he is the truest victim of the mess wrought of his own actions.
He quietly retweets fan art, cute animals, head canons, and all kinds of fandom things- but also others' tweets to identify with their own traumas- the same traumatic thoughts and feelings he incites in others through a mixture of gaslighting, lashing out, and playing the victim. He tweets passive aggressively about people he feels the victim of, (justified or not) even amid posts about his dearly beloved OC.
At this point I should just block him and try to scrape all memory of what I went through from my mind, but un-fucking-fortunately I know him too well to believe it's over when it's over. He still makes passive aggressive tweets about people he hasn't talked to in one, two, ?? years, a person who was a good friend to him for 10 years before he scapegoated them to maintain his own sense of righteousness.
Seeing as I witnessed him maintain not one, not two, not three- FOUR venting channels in his own discord, including at one point one specifically made for sh*tting on a single person, defending it's use and encouraging others to participate saying 'this is how victims cope'...
I know it's not over, and if he had a single shred of...anything... He could leverage against me he would have already tried to 'cancel' me. I'm not turning my back again to see if he decides to throw another knife.
For a long time I wanted to believe I had simply misunderstood the situation, that his intentions weren't so self-serving. The more I saw, the more I heard testimony from others that matched my own, the more I began to un-repress and process my own memories and connect the dots... And the less sense his own account made.
While I tried to maintain my friendship with him I ignored all the red flags, my own rise in anxiety, the isolation I felt. I felt so much pressure to fit into his equation, to be a supportive friend, to keep track of how he was feeling that I stopped taking care of my own mental health.
All the while he got angry for people not checking on him when he asked for space, threw a fit when anyone failed to accommodate his whims, and even accused his three closest friends of purposefully excluding him by taking screenshots without him in them or even hanging out together when he was offline..
And he would have people believe that most of the issues he was involved in centered on his friends not communicating with him. But in my case at least, nothing could be further from the truth.
I told him I felt uncomfortable with the fact his (at the time) friend had publicly lashed out at me in his discord server for stating my opinion. He suggested I work harder to befriend this person, that he couldn't and wouldn't approach his friend about it because he wasn't a FC member and only there as a friend of himself and his two closest friends.
He lashed out at a former friend (and FC mate) of mine -on my behalf- because they wouldn't stop messaging me while I was at work... And when this person subsequently put me on blast thinking I had put him up to it I mentioned considering posting my side of the story- to initially be shamed (by the person mentioned above) for suggesting I protect myself, stating it could make things worse for the people who had already publicly attacked this person...
I approached him about another former friend of his angrily ranting about a character I had though at the time they knew I was planning to RP (I had spoken about it both in-game and in a discord we all shared) because I didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable saying that made me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome in the space. I approached my former friend because I knew from experience he took things like this seriously and he was the one who had invited this character TO role play in the first place.
He reacted by telling this person he had no idea why I was upset, asked them to address an issue they had no context for - prompting them to write an apology, and then reinforced their worry that I hated them by saying I "probably disliked them since [I] hadn't written them an apology" in return. I had thought they both wanted to drop the subject because he stopped responding about the situation.
He decided the situation was resolved and kept inviting us around one another for at least four months while keeping up the illusion that I disliked this person despite me trying to remain friendly- and said nothing about the situation until AFTER he had nuked his FC and almost everyone was done with his bullshit. I had asked him to be honest about the situation and finally got "[name] thinks you dislike him" ???
(I might add more details about these situations because it's honestly much more of a mess than it might seem, but I'd probably have to write a fucking book to explain everything well in-sequence of events.)
But those examples aside, I told him up front that the favoritism he showed and my concerns being glossed over was messing with my head, that I didn't know if I felt safe in his FC, that the whole situation was making me feel like I was losing my grip on reality, that at one point feeling like I was being discouraged from defending myself was beginning to make me feel su*cidal. These are things he knew.
He reacted to this ignoring both cause and effect, ignoring me unless I reached out first or it concerned RP, continually inviting me to hang out with people he knew I felt uncomfortable with (or vice versa) and normally turning down anything I invited him to do otherwise- including several times that I offered to help him with Eden or dungeons he wanted to farm when he previously said he was free to do so. A couple of times he declined saying he was waiting to see if he could convince another friend... and then threw a fit about 'no one wanting to help him' despite declining my offer and not reaching out to me after his other friend declined (I was still online but he decided to vent on discord instead).
Behind my back he talked shit about me, enough that someone who had known him 10 years and was familiar with his behavioral patterns qualified it 'constant' bashing, whenever I came up in conversation. And even included confronting me about the three situations I mentioned above in a plan he was working on to 'fix' his FC, as if he thought I was reaching out to him to stir up drama.
Eventually it came out that the friend I mentioned in the first example was emotionally abusing his friends (and I found out later told him two of them were talking shit about him- prompting HIM to lash out at them). One of them mentioned that person had still been talking shit about me 6 months later on a private account and when I got upset that THREE people I had thought were my friends didn't tell me, I made a few jokes in poor taste (that I do now regret) about the situation to try and prevent myself from having a mental break down.
The person he led to believe I hated left the discord server at that point and he decided to divert some of the blame for (in his words) 'being worried for this person's life' -whom he had attacked over the situation- to me... blaming them leaving and him having trouble contacting them on me.
I told him if this former friend was indeed attacking people and he was so worried we needed to talk about the situation, since in other situations his response was to ignore the hurt caused. He blew up about me messaging him at work, he blamed me for every situation I had brought to his attention. He went to his mods to rant about me and sent one of them to scope out the situation in hopes they could shut me up.
This is the friend of 10 years, who quickly became concerned and not for the reasons he had hoped. They shared a few screenshots of things said to gaslight me behind my back as the conversation progressed. Eventually the other mod jumped in and, knowingly or not proceeded to gaslight me FOR him, based on what they were told. By him.
They reinforced everything he was saying in guise of a neutral perspective and my efforts to prevent a full-scale breakdown failed. I lost all grip on reality for several days- in which at some point I wrote an apology to him for accusing him of several things that were later proven true- and one thing he, himself, proved he'd lied about to the other person involved.
I spent almost two weeks in a self-imposed social break to sort everything out and attempt to cope with what I was told was reality. I fell into the deepest depression I've been in since I had to run away from home, and honestly if it wasn't for my wonderful SO and our house mates, I might have really hurt myself.
It turns out another situation had been brewing parallel to my own. People had been coming to the social mod, the friend of 10 years, with their own worries about him. Almost every. Single. Member. Including at least four people who came forward with fears that if they did a single thing that he interpreted as an insult or threat they would find themselves exiled, called out, and ranted about in a jumbled mix of truth and fictional-malice until their own friends turned on them to support his victim complex.
These four people came forward on the condition that their names be kept anonymous to protect their identity. He didn't take kindly to this, quickly demanding names so they (his mod team) could handle the situation. The mod refused, knowing he has a history of lashing out at any criticism against him and to protect those who were already afraid of bringing the problems up to Morgy.
He reacted by lashing out at this person, claiming they ruined his life, and attempting to weed out those who had spoken out against him by kicking anyone he didn't feel 'safe' being around from his FC. He posted a message in his FC discord about resuming his 'reign of terror'... Which, even if it was a joke, was in in poor taste after pruning his FC of anyone he didn't think could be convinced of his 'good intentions.'
I missed this first culling of his FC members, I assume, because I had apologized and at the time submitted to his version of events. He approached me soon after I noticed the changes in the discord and FC roster; claiming he really wanted to work things out and remain friends- going as far as to say he was so nervous about my reaction that he was shaking.
I wanted to take him at face value despite everything that happened because yeah, I did want to believe he was sincere, that he was a good friend, and that all of it had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. And at first I did until I started talking to other people who knew him and getting their side of the story. Nothing he said added up. Between first-hand testimony and over a hundred screenshots from multiple people the ONLY things that were clear and consistent were that he lied and fit his narrative to whatever he wanted to achieve.
He tried to reduce conflict by omitting information, he controlled people's perception of one another by how he spoke about them and how close he let them to himself and others, he built a support group by polarizing his friends against his 'enemies' and if anyone had a problem with him... They were wrong, and got added to the pile of 'aggressors' he had accumulated over the years, to be bashed and spit on for years to come.
He may have sensed my change in opinion when I directly asked him to help me reach out to the person who thought I disliked them-  managed to come to an understanding and we mutually apologized for the situation... Without his meddling. Or maybe when he realized I was still on talking terms with the people he had lashed out at and directly asked him why he had kicked people who did absolutely nothing to him... Or it could be that I kept in contact with the person who 'ruined his life' by trying to protect his friends from him. I don't know.
While we were still talking he tried to identify with me and bond over the feeling of loosing the FC, a group of people that despite the anxiety, and pain I had felt in the environment he'd built I did deeply respect and care about... Despite the dissolution of that group and the abuse I suffered being -at the core- his own fault. He even went as far as to say my description of the PTSD and fear I was experiencing described exactly how he was feeling, too.
As our conversations further weighed on my mental health I had to take a break from interacting with him. I was honest again, with what I was told, what I knew, and asked him for honesty about the situation... What he had said about me behind my back and why because I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted to see if he would acknowledge the harm he caused both to me and the rest of the (former) FC.
He never did, and probably won't. He asked for some time to tend to his own stress levels and mental health and then blocked me on all social media and discord, and kicked me from his FC without ever making an effort to reach out.
Of the few people who are still close to him, one of them suggested that "maybe he just decided he didn't want to be friends anymore." But after him begging to have a conversation to iron out all the facts, claiming to be so anxious about such a conversation going well that he was 'shaking', admitting that what he did hurt people and that my being wary of him was understandable, asking me -directly- to let him know if he did anything 'shady', and stressing he REALLY wanted this conversation to take place when we were both able to handle it because of how important he felt it was...
I feel like its fair to say that him suddenly cutting off all contact isn't quite so simple. He could have done that at any point. Before pointedly ignoring my concerns, before gaslighting me, before blaming me for the results of his own actions, before accepting an apology for accusing him of things he did legitimately do, and certainly before directly telling me had no real problems with me, that he it was super important to him that we remain friends, and that I deserved his honesty.
I'm not going to try and tell anyone who they should be friends with or not. Frankly, people can change and in a lot of cases experiences with individuals will be different.
But on that same note, if I had known then what I know now I might have saved myself from roughly two years of anxiety and avoided the state of dissonance I now find myself in. I still have moments where I want to doubt the things I experienced first hand. My mind is still trying to repress my own memories to cope.
A part of me still cares about him despite everything because as far as I knew, he was my friend and I am still trying to reconcile what I found to be true.
At this point I feel like I should say please don't harass Morgy if you read this, but honestly? If you have any reason to hold him accountable go for it. He needs it. And if you have any gut feelings about him or anyone in his circle please listen to it. The few supporters he still has are willing to ignore anything he has done previous to the fall of his FC and have shown they are willing to debate and accuse people who speak out about legitimate concerns involving him.
If anyone has any questions I am willing to answer them and share the proof I have.
And in the off chance anyone wants to (further) argue with me about my experiences or whether or not I suffered enough to be considered a victim, please Google some images of a hand giving the middle finger. But if after that you still really want to play stupid games? I can find you some stupid prizes.
I don't owe him my silence. Or peace of mind. The only thing I owe him is to be as entirely, brutally, honest as possible given the information I have. I think it's a fair offer considering the mind-numbing volume of honesty he -still- owes all of us.
- - - - -
I may add more onto this. Unfortunately the entire situation is a lot more complex, but I wanted to get the backbone of my own experiences out there and there is so much bullshit it can't all be seen from any one direction. A lot of the circumstantial evidence loops back into other situations and makes it hard to comprehensively represent everything on any sort of singular timeline. As I said in the beginning there is a reason it took a small group 6 months to piece it together.
I am far from the only person hurt, and the entire situation was a mess with people feeling unnerved or pressured into going along with his agenda. For the most part now that I have more context I don't blame most of the people involved for their own actions. I fully support those who can't or won't come forward about the situation whether they just want out of his drama, or are afraid to come forward.
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arhvste · 4 years
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TSUKISHIMA KEI - INSUFFERABLE AND IMPOSSIBLE
requested by jaceyandme on wattpad
summary - after spending more time with a classmate, tsukishima finds himself caring more than what he’d like leading to you both reaching your limits - angst
warnings - cursing
an - i might do a part 2 i really wanna. this is also kinda rushed i’m kinda under time pressure rn so i might improve later or go into more depth in a later part
Your usual routine in the morning would be to get ready, meet your boyfriend outside your house, walk to school together (Wednesdays and Fridays Yamaguchi would join the two of you), change your shoes at your lockers and finally say your short goodbyes as you both departed to your separate classes. That was how things usually ran.
Not for the past two weeks however.
Tsukishima was a man of routine. He liked things to be in order and found satisfaction in things fitting in place, the fact that the usual routine the pair of you shared had been broken recently did not sit well with him and he knew exactly who was the ultimate cause of it.
Hara Itsuki.
His teeth would grit whenever he heard that name, a discreet but stewing anger would boil inside him and it didn’t help that sometimes you were oblivious to the middle blockers change in demeanor.
In your defense though you sometimes found Tsukishima hard to read. He was a sarcastic piece of shit with a tongue too sharp for his own good. It wasn’t rare for your boyfriend to take a hit at people out of nowhere. Tsukishima wasn’t the type to openly express genuine emotions either so it would’ve been hard to pick out his particular distaste towards Hara.
Hara Itsuki was a boy in your class who had recently come to ask for your assistance in literature. You, being the kind and helpful girl you were raised to be, agreed to help him after school while your boyfriend would be at practise.
You hadn’t intended to spend time with your classmate outside of the one hour after school you tutored him in, but the more you spoke with the boy, the more you found you had in common and found him easy to confide in.
At first Tsukishima didn’t care about your new friendship with your classmate, he wasn’t insecure or bothered by it and it’s not like he had any valid point to argue against it at first, but those one hour tutor sessions became 2 hour meet ups after school and a few lunchtimes a week you would be missing from your regular spot at your usual table as you would be eating elsewhere with your new friend.
This began to raise concern with Tsukishima but his pride wouldn’t allow him to confront you just yet at least.
It wasn’t until 4 weeks into your sudden new bond with Hara, Tsukishima felt himself edge towards the end of his relatively thin patience. The two of you rarely spoke due to Tsukishima’s everlasting bad mood and when you did speak, all you’d talk about is how great this Hara Itsuki was and quite frankly, the middle blocker would rather rip his own ears off than listen to what you’d have to say about this boy.
Yamaguchi would sometimes bring up your absence of late but it would always end in Tsukishima telling him to “Shut up.” and the boy would comply.
It wasn’t just Yamaguchi who noticed the effect your absence had on your boyfriend. The rest of the volleyball team noticed the tall middle blocker had become more hostile and cold towards everyone. Rarely talking to anyone and snapping at them when he did. Kageyama and Hinata made mental notes to keep out of his way for the time being and hold back on the provocative comments and snide remarks.
“Tsukishima, are you -uh, well you know -”
“Spit it out already.” The middle blocker spat.
“Are you missing Y/N?”
Everyone in the gym went silent. Tanaka took a step back from Tsukishima once he saw the look in his eye from his question.
“What sort of question is that? I couldn’t care less about the girl and who she's hoeing about with.”
The team stood wide eyed not sure on how to respond to such hostility.
Sugawara took it upon himself to attempt to diffuse the heavy tension in the air.
“Hey, If Tsukishima-san says he’s fine then we should just take his word for it and let it be.”
“But he’s obviously not fine. His blocking has been off and he’s not as observant on the court like he usually is. Quite frankly it’s annoying he can’t get it together, if we were playing in real matches right now we’d be thrashed within the first set because he can’t get a grip.”
All eyes turned to Kageyama. In truth, Kageyama had only said what was on his and potentially most of the team’s mind. The genius setter held a glare towards his teammate as he awaited a reply for his blunt comment.
“Sorry not all of us are fucking geniuses with no emotion. I don’t want to hear anything from you when your middle school teammates didn’t even want to play with you because of how selfish and obsessed you were. If Y/N wants to be a whore that’s fine I’ll deal with it myself, but I don't need any of you nosy imbeciles invading into my personal life!”
Tsukishima’s patience had finally snapped and nobody dared speak a word.
“I think we should call it a night. This isn’t a good atmosphere to be training in and I think we all need to clear our heads.” Daichi spoke up as both Asahi and Sugawara nodded.
The gym was cleared in silence and the team began to slowly disperse out the gym.
“Hang on a minute Tsukishima. I think we should have a quick chat.”
Tsukishima mentally cursed but approached Daichi anyway. Who was he to deny his captain and upperclassman’s request.
The two were the only ones left in the gym and Daichi patted the bench next to the court as they sat down.
“Listen, I know you’re going through a rough patch with your girlfriend right now and I’m by no means trying to invade or involve myself into your personal life but, from what we witnessed tonight it’s clear to me that it seems to be affecting the teams dynamic and that is my concern.”
Tsukishima couldn’t quite find the right words to respond to Daichi. It’s not like he could pull out a snarky remark about how he didn’t care about his girlfriends actions because deep down he knew he did in fact care and apparently more so than what he led himself on to believe.
“I’m not telling you what to do. Only you can decide how to handle the situation but I advise talking to L/N about how you’re really feeling. I know you’re not the most expressive person, but I also know that you do have a genuine concern for others whether you show it blatantly or not. Talk to her so you can both figure this out. I’m not just saying this for the best interest I have for our team but rather my best interest in you. Regardless if you want it, myself and all the others are concerned for you and want you to feel like you can rely on us.”
“Yeah. I’ll have a chat with her tonight.” The middle blocker stared at the ground as he began to rise from the seat. “I’ll have a think about everything.”
Daichi gave the first year a soft smile and patted his back.
“Good. Nobody’s mad at you, we’re just worried. Even Kageyama.”
To this Tsukishima snorted. “Whatever you say.”
“The kid’s blunt but he does care about you in his own way.”
After Daichi finished locking the gym up, both players said their respective goodbyes and went their separate ways.
Tsukishima made his way home but was stopped by the sight of you and Hara talking and laughing outside the school gates. Just from having that pep talk from Daichi was enough to encourage him to finally confront you. Not because he cared but for the greater good of the team, well that’s what he told himself anyway.
“Oh hi Kei...”
You nervously smiled at your boyfriend's irked expression.
“Oh so you do remember my name?” he sharply hissed at you.
Tsukishima had initially intended to have a civil conversation between the two of you, but seeing that bastard Hara standing there with a smug expression fuelled his hostility towards the whole situation.
“W-what? Of course I remember your name! You’re my boyfriend!” You replied as you fidgeted under his intense stare.
“Oh am I? Because from the way I see it, this loser over here seems to be your boyfriend rather than me.”
“What are you talking about?!”
“Don’t play clueless with me Y/N! If you wanted a side hoe you could’ve just said so and we wouldn’t have wasted time!”
“Side hoe?”
“Yes side hoe! And if you’re degrading me to second best to that thing -” Tsukishima pointed to where the now uncomfortable Hara stood . “- then I don’t want any association with you!”
“You’re insufferable!”
“And you’re impossible!”
Tears began to pool in your eyes as your anger began to flare.
“You know why I spend so much time with Hara-san? I’ll tell you why. He isn’t rude, obnoxious or judgemental. He is always considerate and never brings people down with snide comments and unnecessary insults. I love you Tsukishima, I really do, but right now you’re showing a perfect example of what I’m talking about.”
“If you really loved me we wouldn’t be having this argument. If you really loved me my team wouldn’t have to point out my lack of focus recently. If you really loved me you would’ve just told me the things about me that bother you so much. But none of that has played out has it? So tell me Y/N, do you really love me or am I just a test subject for you to use and compare to other people before you decide to settle down?”
You were in shock. You knew you were spending an increased amount of time with Hara but you didn’t know how big the effect was on Tsukishima.
“Uh, I’m gonna go.” Hara said suddenly as he began to turn to walk away.
“No you’re not. While Y/N is busy thinking about whether she really loves me or if that was just shit pouring out of her mouth, you’re going to tell me what exactly was running through your head approaching a girl who obviously is in a relationship.”
“For literature, I needed help.”
“And you got it. So why are you still hanging around her like some lost puppy?”
You finally had enough. Snapping your gaze up to Tsukishima you gave him a deadly glare.
“Will you shut up? Questioning my love for you like I’m some sort of slut who tests the water with every boy. I have never ever once complained about any girls approaching you to confess their love for you. I’ve never once stepped out of line. I’ve always supported you Kei.”
“Dont ‘Kei’ me L/N. You have no right to complain about the confessions I get because I turned each and every one of them down and for you. I know I was genuine to you but it was clearly not reciprocated. You’ve wasted enough of my time I’m fucking done. Messing up my performance in volleyball and making me look stupid, I’m done with you L/N, go have fun comparing Hara to other boys when you’re done trying him out.”
And with that Tsukishima turned around and stormed off out the gates.
You stood there speechless. You knew Tsukishima could be cold and make uncalled for remarks but this hurt. Him denying your feelings and calling you out to be like some sort of whore.
Hara wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest.
“Hey it’s gonna be okay. You deserve better than that four eyed loser anyway Y/N.”
You didn’t particularly want to be comforted by Hara right now. In fact you wanted to be away from the boy who had contributed in homewrecking your first real relationship whether that was his intention or not but, you also didn’t have the physical or mental strength to push him away just yet. You needed someone and Hara just happened to be there.”
Sniffling into his chest you nodded slightly as you wondered if Tsukishima was upset or if this whole break up had no effect on him. You thought the latter as your anger towards him grew.
“He probably doesn’t give a shit anyways. It’s not like he can’t have a replacement for me by now anyways. He probably does have a girl waiting on the side for him as we speak.” You snarled as Hara pulled you closer to him.
“Probably, what a man whore. He doesn’t deserve you Y/N.”
You walked home with Hara that night trying to take your mind off of what had happened. The thought of Tsukishima not being bothered or phased by the break up lingered at the back of your head though.
What you were unaware of was that Tsukishima had immediately let his tears fall as soon as he reached the safety of his own room, and rather than watching dinosaur documentaries or studying, he spent the whole night in his room silently sobbing and wishing he could turn back time. He had loved you in his own way and would’ve worked on improving his snarkiness for the sake of you if only you had brought it up to him. But you didn’t and for that, Tsukishima stayed up all night tear stained wondering if you had ever really loved him the way he loved you.
part 2
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carewyncromwell · 3 years
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“And at last I see the light! And it's like the fog has lifted... And at last I see the light, And it's like the sky is new! And it's warm and real and bright, And the world has somehow shifted... All at once everything is different Now that I see you...”
~ “I See the Light (cover),” by Elsie Lovelock and Kestin Howard
x~x~x~x
It’s interesting how, even when two parties know they have something special, it can still take a while before they find the right words to express how they feel and what they want. Even when Orion Amari and Carewyn Cromwell had each come to grips with their romantic feelings, it didn’t really change how many obstacles would be in the way of them living a traditional “happily-ever-after” with wedding bells and a little house of their own. Although yes, Orion felt deeply for Carewyn, as she did him, they both also greatly valued their own independence and autonomy. Carewyn and Orion didn’t even live in the same country anymore, one residing in England and the other Scotland, and their respective careers -- one at the London-based Ministry of Magic, the other for the Montrose Magpies Quidditch team -- would make it close to impossible for them to move. Merging households would be a nightmare under such circumstances...and yet, at the same time, neither Orion nor Carewyn was comfortable giving only part of their heart away. They both knew that the subject of their affection deserved everything and more from whatever partner they chose -- they just had no idea if they could be that “everything” for them, even if they wanted to.
That all changed, though, one day in December 1999, a year after the Second Wizarding War ended.
Carewyn’s feelings for Orion had not gone unnoticed by her closest friends. The lawyer’s unofficial twin and fellow “Fireball” Charlie Weasley had been almost affronted when he caught wind that Carewyn had let Orion stay the night on the futon in her living room without having made plans ahead of time -- Carewyn was a planner first and foremost and she never let Charlie crash at her place without giving her fair warning. Charlie vented his disbelief to Ben Copper and his wife Wendy @drinkyoursoupbitch, and they were both pretty shocked too. Wendy ended up following up with Carewyn later that week when she stopped by Carewyn’s office one evening for some coffee.
“On your futon, huh?” she said, her blue eyebrows raised and her lips spread into a playful smile.
Carewyn rolled her eyes up toward the skylight in her ceiling, her red lips turned up in a smile. "Charlie's that jealous about it?"
Her smile faded as she turned her focus toward her paperwork rather than look at Wendy. She wasn’t uncomfortable, of course -- she just had a lot of work to do that night before getting back home and starting dinner for herself and Erik, that was all.
“ ...Orion had had a late night, and he'd have to be back in London early the next morning. It'd be cruel to force him to go home and then lug himself and Eos out of bed so early, just to get back where he already was..."
Wendy's eyes twinkled knowingly. "Oh, of course. But still...is there something there?"
Carewyn kept her focus on the files she was sorting through, her blue eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly as she siphoned through them.
"I suppose it depends on what ‘something’ you're referring to,” she said after a moment. “If you're referring to a romantic relationship, then no, there is not." 
Was that a touch of melancholy in her eyes? Surely not. 
Wendy studied the other woman over the rim of her coffee cup as she took a long sip.
"I mean, Carey," she tapped the porcelain, considering her words carefully. Her tone shifted to a gentle sincerity, "is there an attraction there for you?"
Carewyn stopped rifling through her papers. She paused, before slowly closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose in a heavy sigh.
"...Of course there is," she admitted very softly. "I've always been fond of Orion -- I liked him pretty much immediately, and I respected him all the more, as the years went on. All I wonder is when that fondness...grew to the point that it had to plant roots. And what to do about it, now that it has..."
Wendy smiled fondly. "Well, I suppose the big question is, do you want to do anything? I mean...if you were looking for a tofu-eating Quidditch player to pine over, you certainly picked the best one."
Carewyn rested her head in her hand on her desk, her eyes falling onto the wood instead of looking up at her friend. "That's just it, Wendy, I...I do want to do something. I don't want to have to bottle this up -- I want to protect him, to take care of him and Eos, to...love him with everything I am. But..."
Her gaze moved up to the skylight too, her blue eyes deepening with more of that odd melancholy.
"...At school...when I dated Andre...I didn't know myself like I do now. I probably would've accepted a marriage, and a family, and frequent sex, at that time, not knowing any different. But now that I do know myself...know that I don't want that happy ending attached to most romances...how do I pursue a romantic relationship? How do I ask someone to date a woman who wouldn't give up her job and life for him...no matter how deep my feelings are?"
She closed her eyes, visibly hurting at this thought.
"Especially when...he's already been hurt before...when he's already had partners who tried to force him to give up everything, to please them?"
Carewyn bowed her head.
"...How can I love him the way he deserves, when I'm so selfish?"
Wendy considered her answer, her eyes drifting up to the skylight in Carewyn’s ceiling that reflected the London sky miles above them.
“They say that sacrifice is a foundation of love, and it’s true,” she said slowly, “but...sacrifice between two people who love each other is a two-way street. I love my work — you know I do. Ben knows how much I love it. But if he ever asked me to give up,” she gestured broadly, “everything...I’d do it. I wouldn’t want to, and Merlin, it would hurt like…well, more than anything in the world! But I’d do it. And…I know in my bones he would do the same for me. Hell, he’s almost died for me a few times...”
The old memories made her pause, closing her eyes briefly to try to block them out.
“Thing is…he doesn’t ask for that. He…won’t ask for it.”
Wendy looked back down at Carewyn seriously.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is...sometimes loving someone -- not just being in love, but really loving them -- means that you know you could ask them to move heaven and earth for you and they’d do it, no matter how much it’d hurt...but you won’t ask that. It’s good that you’re thinking about this now, of course -- but you don’t have to have it all figured out just yet. If you want this...don’t be afraid to let Orion in. Let him see everything you have, and everything you fear, and let him decide. Maybe he wouldn’t want you to give up everything you’ve built here for him. Maybe he would. Maybe he’d want you to meet him halfway, somehow. But…let him make that choice to love you, whatever it might look like. You’ll never know if it’s meant to be if you don’t ever ask if it could be.”
Although Carewyn didn't look Wendy in the face nearly at all as she spoke, it clearly was because she was taking in what she said and thinking hard, not because she wasn't listening. When Wendy was finished, Carewyn brought a hand up to brush her bangs out of her face, her hand sliding past her right eye as it went. Then, with a swallow, she forced herself to look Wendy in the face at last, even though her eyes were still full of so much emotion.
"...Thank you, Wendy.”
The lawyer couldn't keep eye contact very long. Soon her eyes once again almost of their own accord drifted off to the corner just over Wendy's shoulder.
"I suppose...I always have had a bad tendency, to put the bar too high for myself. Orion's never expected perfection from me, however much I expect it from myself..."
Her eyes softened noticeably.
"He’s always been happy with what he has, even while he’s reaching for something better. But I know he appreciates the work and time I put in, too...how much I care. Even when I care too much, and 'flare up like a Fire Crab.'”
She brought a hand up to try to hold in her giggling.
Wendy’s lips spread into a mischievous grin. “Hey, at least he doesn’t compare your temperament and coloring to a Billywig. But I guess it’s his way of getting back at me for calling him the Tofu King -- ”
In that moment, Ben Copper had abruptly run down the hall, skidding to a halt in the door frame of Carewyn’s office.
“Carey,” he said urgently, his face very white and grave, “the Aurors have just been sent to your street.”
Carewyn and Wendy both shot to their feet in alarm.
“What!?”
As the prosecutor for nearly all of the cases involving ex-Death Eaters, Carewyn had received a lot of recognition and praise, but she’d understandably also gotten a few anonymous death threats from people who had Death Eater sympathies. She wasn’t the only one -- quite a few other prominent members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement like Talbott and the newly hired Harry Potter got them too. This day in particular, however, a swarm of dementors -- newly banned from Azkaban by Minister Shacklebolt, in part due to their association with Lord Voldemort during the War -- had been set loose in several areas of London that contained the homes of prominent Ministry employees...including Carewyn’s. Naturally Carewyn herself was not home yet -- but her ward Erik had just returned from Hogwarts for winter break in the midst of his first year, and he as a latch-key kid was at their flat  completely alone until Carewyn got off work. 
Carewyn immediately dropped everything and rushed home as quickly as she could, Ben and Wendy in tow. When she arrived on her street corner, she found the neighborhood in chaos. The entire street was blanketed by unnatural, heavy black fog, as if it was being suffocated by a blanket made of mist and tar. Muggles were running blindly in all directions since they couldn’t see the dementors, while the Aurors who could cast Patronuses shot them at every part of the darkness they could reach. Ben, Wendy, and Carewyn immediately all cast theirs, and their dun stallion, unicorn, and Abraxan winged horse charged into the fray to help the Aurors’ other pearly white creatures in their fight. Carewyn herself was determined to find Erik and raced in the direction of her flat. As she and the Coppers drew close, however, they were startled by what they saw.
Carewyn’s Abraxan Patronus had charged to the front, flapping its wide wings in an attempt to break up the suffocating darkness. As it did so, another bright white Patronus soared through the air toward hers, gliding through the air with incredible grace and helping it beat the dementors back.
It was another Abraxan winged horse.
The second graceful Abraxan Patronus’s wings seemed to brush lightly over the wings of Carewyn’s before flying back in the direction it’d come from. Her eyes very wide, Carewyn raced after it, her own Patronus flying over her as she went. The second Abraxan Patronus ended up landing a short ways away, its wings spread protectively over two people knelt down on the ground -- a small almost-thirteen-year-old boy with curly blond hair and tears streaming down his pale face, and the Patronus’s caster, an olive-skinned man with an uneven haircut, a beard, and black eyes, dressed in harem pants, arm warmers, and loose-fitting robes.
It was Orion. And although Carewyn halted mid-step several feet away, her breath stilling in her throat, her Patronus flew down to meet Orion’s, the two Abraxans’ noses touching when they met.
Orion had known for years that his and Carewyn’s Patronuses were the same. The knowledge had surprised him, but he’d managed to keep his emotions in check at the time. Carewyn, however, didn’t do as well in containing hers -- her hands flew up to her mouth to try to suppress the choke that left her throat and although she didn’t cry, her eyes flooded with tears.
Her Patronus disappeared in a puff of white smoke as she barrelled over to them, collapsing onto her knees so she could pull Erik into her arms and hug him tightly, her face white with terror.
“Erik! Erik, thank Merlin -- ”
Erik was very pale and shaking in her arms, but he had trouble looking her in the face. His jaw was clenched hard as he clutched at Carewyn’s sleeve. Ben and Wendy rushed over too, looking just as harried.
“Erik -- kid, you okay?” asked Wendy.
Ben glanced from Erik in Carewyn’s arms to up at Orion and his Abraxan Patronus hovering over them, his brown eyes slightly narrowed. Orion’s face was just as solemn.
“I was in the area when I felt the dementors’ presence,” he explained. “I found him out here, shooting Lumos charms and Knockback Jinxes at the dementors to try to drive them away...it’s possible he may have come out to help, knowing Muggles can’t see them...”
Carewyn cradled Erik in her arms, her hands resting on his back and the back of his head protectively as she squeezed him tight and gently stroked his hair.
Leaving Erik at home alone was never an arrangement she’d liked, but he was old enough to be there at her flat without supervision, as long as he stayed inside and didn’t let anyone in. But clearly the protective enchantments she’d placed weren’t strong enough to prevent the dementors’ draining influence from creeping inside...and once Erik felt that, it was unsurprising to Carewyn that he’d wanted to do something about it. His history in dementor captivity when he was rounded up by Umbridge’s Muggle-Born Registration Commission was explanation enough.
She hadn’t done enough. She hadn’t thought that anyone would go so far as to threaten her son ward, while she wasn’t there to protect him...
Carewyn swallowed the huge, painful lump that had formed in her throat, closing her eyes tight to try to force back her tears. She had to show a brave face for Erik: he was scared enough as it was.
The image of Orion’s and her Patronuses touching noses rippled over her mind. The memory of their light, equally bright and perfectly matched, seemed to weaken the grip of the fear strangling her heart.
His Patronus was the same as hers. His soul...was the same as hers...protecting Erik when she hadn’t been there...flying to the side of hers, when it was most needed...
The memory filled her up with such courage and warmth that Carewyn thought she’d likely never struggle for ammunition to create another Patronus again.
“Erik...we need to get you inside,” the lawyer said at last, her voice coming out as a low, steadier whisper than before. “Some chocolate will help.”
Ben brought a hand onto Carewyn’s shoulder and squeezed it. “We’ll take care of things out here with the Aurors, Carey. You stay with Erik.”
Wendy glanced at Orion.
“Orion, maybe you should go with them with your Patronus...clear them a way back home, you know.”
Although her eyes and face were serious, the way her eyes flickered between Carewyn and Orion spoke volumes. Orion, his head bowing almost self-consciously, nodded. He tentatively brought an arm around Carewyn’s shoulders, his black eyes trailing over her face to down at Erik.
“Erik,” he said softly, “can you stand, little Jarvey?”
Although he wasn’t able to speak, Erik clutched onto Carewyn and Orion’s arms and used the grip to hoist himself up onto his feet. Sensing that he was still too weak and disoriented to walk on his own, Orion quickly swooped in and snaked one of his strong arms around the boy to hold him up.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. Carewyn moved to Erik’s other side and wrapped her own arm around Erik too, so that both she and Orion were supporting him. “...We’ve got you...”
Orion’s eyes met Carewyn’s over Erik’s head. The light from his Patronus reflected in their depths, making them resemble two tiny night skies flecked with stars. A perfect match for Carewyn’s, the color of which could be compared to a cloudless blue daytime sky.
((OOC: Thanks to @drinkyoursoupbitch for roleplaying that first scenario between Wendy and Carewyn with me so many months ago!! I’m so delighted I finally got to include it in this! 💙))
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skzsauce01 · 4 years
Text
Eternally Yours
Anniversary Request Special
Description: Dogged by poverty, you struggle to raise your daughter until an unknown patron appears and becomes a little more than just a financial support. However, maybe this unknown gentleman isn’t so unknown after all.
Warning: domestic abuse, substance abuse
Word Count: 3.7k
Pairing: fem!reader x Hyunjin
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It is only when the cold morning air slips under your shirt does the gravity of the whole situation make your hands shake and your knees buckle. You immediately crouch under the illumination of a streetlight as tears pour from your eyes. What are you going to do now? You have no job let alone a place to stay. Not to mention the scars left by your lover render your mind immobile. You never once thought things would turn out like this when you married him. Never had this night crossed your mind every time he touched you, sending tingles across your skin, or every time he said your name like it was the only name that mattered in the world. You were so in love, and if you are being honest, you still are no matter how much he’s betrayed you. Still, you know it’s for your own good that you move on, but can you?
“Are you in pain?”
Your head snaps up at the voice of a stranger. Before you stands a sophisticated man dressed in a handsome tuxedo. You know who he is. The whole town knows who he is.
“Do you want to forget it all?”
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“Mommy! Guess what?” 
“Yes, Love?” you smile tiredly as you thank the babysitter for her time. She’s too busy looking after the fifteen other children running around at the park to notice, and you immediately feel bad for putting your child under such poor supervision, but it is all you can afford.
“I got a new toy today!” Proudly, she shows you a brand new stuffed sheep.
An eyebrow shoots up. “That’s g-great! Where’d you get that?” you ask, hoping there was a charity giveaway at pre-school or something.
“It was from Mr. H!”
“Mr. H?” you repeat, feeling more and more worried.
“Yep! He had a funny hat and gave me this and some snacks,” she smiles.
“Now, now, Nayeon, what did we say about talking to strangers?” you warn.
“But he’s not a stranger, Mommy! You receive papers from him too, don’t you?”
You flinch at this. It is true that you’ve been receiving random checks from a person by that alias for a while now. Since you fear that it is some sort of a Ponzi scheme, you’ve been ignoring them. Now he is after your daughter too? You wonder if you’ve gotten involved with the mafia or worse. You hold your child to your chest as you cast a look at the distracted babysitter. Maybe it’ll be worth spending a little more on daycare. Your lunch isn’t that important anyway.
“Ah, you’ve learned to read well, haven’t you, Love?”
“Yes, Mommy!” she beams proudly.
“Still, I don’t want you near people like that, okay?”
“But--”
You give her your best ‘listen to you mother’ look and she quiets down.
“Okay…”
“There’s my good girl.”
You take her hand as you walk home, but you can’t help but notice how happy she looks clutching onto her new stuffed animal. You had never been able to get her too many things before, let alone something so new and made clearly of the softest, finest materials. Who is this Mr. H and what possibly does he have to gain from a broke single mother and her daughter? The unease keeps you tossing and turning all night as thoughts of his malicious intentions flood your mind.
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A week later, you will your tired legs up the brick steps of the new daycare center. You have to be quick, for your next shift starts in half an hour, and you still have to get your little angel home before then. Once you enter the building, Nayeon waves to you while putting away blocks with a man around your age who is wearing a colorful apron. Suddenly, your head spins.
“Hey!” he exclaims, staring at the flour stain you threw onto his apron.
You stick your tongue at him as a peal of giggles escape you.
“Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he teases. 
Before you know it, he has an arm wrapped around your waist while the other hand smears your face with flour. You squeal as you try in vain to escape him.
“No fair! You’re so much stronger!”
“Alright, alright,” he laughs, releasing you to walk to a cupboard. “But we’re adding scotch to these cookies.
“You’re always drinking,” you scold.
“Hey, what’s college for if not for alcohol and all-nighters?”
“Whatever, H--”
You blink before the weird vision of yourself finishes her sentence. You must be tired from all those graveyard shifts. Looking back at the man, you decide that he must be one of the volunteers by his apron.
You wave back with your best smile and go to the front desk to pay for your daughter’s stay.
“For L/N Nayeon,” you tell the receptionist.
She types a few things in and looks at you confused. “Nayeon, right? N-A-Y-E-O-N?”
“That’s right.” You lean over the counter, confused as to what can be wrong.
“It says in our system that you’ve already paid for this month, Ms. L/N. Did you want to pay in advance for the next one?”
“No, I didn’t, but what do you mean I already paid? I barely got my paycheck yesterday.”
“For L/N Nayeon?” another worker pokes in. “It wasn’t you who paid, Ms. L/N, but your boyfriend.”
“My what?”
“Is he not?” she gasps. “I’m so sorry! I just assumed since he paid for everything and even volunteered to play with the kids!”
She points to the play area where your daughter is in only to find just kids. “Huh, that’s weird. He was here a minute ago.”
You feel a tug on your shirt and look down to see Nayeon staring back at you. You immediately lean down to pick her up.
“Was there someone playing with you earlier?” you ask her.
She nods happily. “Yeah! It was Mr. H!”
Your heart drops at that name. “Nayeon--”
“But it’s okay cause Auntie said so!”
The worker looks at you guiltily. “I thought he was your boyfriend,” she repeats.
“Fine,” you frown. “Can we check the name on his card from when he paid at least?”
The one at the computer shakes her head sadly. “It says it was a cash transaction.”
“Maybe this will help!” interrupts Nayeon, holding an envelope to your face.
“What’s this?”
She answers, “He told me to give this to my mommy, so that’s you!”
You take the envelope and glance at the clock on the wall. You don’t have much time to keep squabbling about this mysterious man. The workers apologize profusely for their negligence and promise to find what they can about Mr. H. You thank them for their time and take Nayeon home hastily.
That night, as Nayeon lays sound asleep on your shared bed, you take out the envelope from earlier. You can’t tell if the shaking of your hands is from the tension of the unknown or from washing dishes for the past four hours.
“Dear L/N Y/N,” the letter reads. “I’m sure I have caused you some concern by involving myself in parts of your life lately, and I apologize sincerely for this. However, I would like to assure you that I mean no harm in my actions. I have merely heard of your and sweet Nayeon’s situation and would like to help however I can. If you do not wish that I be near your daughter, I completely understand, but please let me continue being a patron of Nayeon’s upbringing; her angelic charms and sweet smile have taken my heart completely. I’m sure you understand. To show my sincerity, I have included a new lunch card with this letter. It should be loaded with enough to last her the entire year, snacks included. I hope that you will consider my offer. Yours truly, Mr. H.”
Patron? If these past few years have taught you anything, it is that there is no free lunch in this world. You look at Nayeon then back at the letter. Nayeon, letter. Nayeon, letter. Nayeon, lunch card. 
You’d be lying if you said you can go without his gift; one of your greatest guilts is imagining your daughter sitting alone on the swings while the rest of her class indulges in frozen fruit bars or chocolate graham crackers. Are you perhaps being too paranoid about this whole situation? No, this is seriously too good to be true.
You turn the letter over and scribble your own message on its back before putting it into the envelope. You will have Nayeon deliver it to him.
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For a year your only communication with this man is through Nayeon and the daycare center whenever he comes in to pay her fees. Your first reply back was a simple “Who are you?” to which he replies:
“Dear L/N Y/N, I apologize for my need to conceal my identity. While I do not wish to deceive you by providing a false identity, I also wish to protect my real one. Just pretend I am no more than a passing wind. I hope you understand this; the last thing I would want is for you to feel indebted to me. More importantly, how are you? Being a single mother must be tough. I offer my sincerest condolences about your struggles. I hope I can free you from at least a few shifts throughout the week so that you might find time for yourself. Nayeon is doing great at this daycare. She is learning to add very well, but I am sure you already know this. I hope you both are well. Until next time, Mr. H.”
Over the months, you grow more and more fond of Mr. H. You don’t even grow anxious anymore when opening his letters. Instead, you find yourself looking forward to them. Admittedly, although ashamedly, you have grown to depend on his support; just the other day, you even ordered soda with your lunch. Nayeon looks happy about him too. You’ve let him associate with her at the daycare again, and she looks extra jubilant on the days he visits.
After those twelve months, you find yourself standing among other parents as the graduating class of kindergarteners walk across the stage. You’ve taken an entire day off just to spend it with your little girl, and you cannot be more pleased with your decision as she bounces towards you in a yellow gown, diploma in her hand and smile on her face.
“Mommy! You came!” she squeals.
“Of course I did! I wouldn’t miss your graduation for the world!” You scoop her up into your arms. “Did you see me when you walked on stage?”
“I did! And--” She stops as her eyes widen upon seeing someone behind your shoulder. “Mr. H!”
You whip around at that name, trying to see whom she was pointing to. You’re met with a tall man who quickly tips his hat over his face.
He isn’t quick enough to stop you from noticing how familiar he looks though, and definitely not quick enough to hide his resemblance to Nayeon. He tries walking away, but you stop him.
“Hey!” you call, hurrying after him. “Stop! Please stop.”
He hesitates, but finally does as you request, standing with his head down and faced away from you.
“I just wanted to thank you,” you gasp, a little breathless from the chase. “For everything. At least let me offer you tea or something at my place.”
“Your place?” he finally says after a moment.
“Yes. To celebrate Nayeon. I bought cookies for the occasion too. My apartment isn’t too far from here. Please come over to have some.”
As if he were an antique wind-up doll, he stiffly turns towards you. “Would you say that even if you knew who I am?”
“What do you mean? Of course I would; it’s the least I can do,” you chuckle, trying to see under his hat.
Slowly, he lifts up his chin so that you can see his tear-filled eyes.
“Y/N…” he breathes as if finding a long lost lover.
You are stricken by a strange sense of familiarity once you see his face, but you can’t quite remember where you’ve seen him before.
“Yes?” you decide to answer plainly.
He furrows his brows. “D-do you not remember me?”
You bite your lip and shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Should I?”
His eyes widen at your straight forward confession. “N-no, I must have mistaken you for someone else too. I apologize.”
“Well, um, it’s great to finally meet you. Tea then?” you suggest awkwardly. 
He nods and you walk towards your destination, leaving him staring at your back in awe.
At your apartment, you grab two jars of tea leaves from the cupboard. You turn to him and ask, “Would you like green tea or--”
The cupboards are thrown open. Broken glass litter the floor. In the corner, a man sits on the ground with his head in his hands. 
“Honey?” you call out. “Honey, you alright?”
“What do you think?” he hisses.
“Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yeah, actually. It’s called getting out of my face!”
You withdraw your steps. “I was just trying to be nice.”
“Well you’re just being a pain.”
You crouch before him, deciding to be the bigger person. “If you change your mind, just know that I’m here for you and I love y--”
Before you can finish, his body lurches forward and projectile vomits all over your shoes.
“Are you alright?”
You blink twice, bringing Mr. H back into focus.
“Yes,” you say through a forced smile. 
He walks over to you with a worried frown and feels your forehead with his hand. Unaccustomed to the sudden proximity, you take a step back and clear your throat.
“I um, might actually have some wine somewhere if you’d prefer that.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, embarrassedly rubbing his palms together. “And I don’t drink anymore. Green tea sounds lovely, if you don’t mind.”
You nod, ignoring the heat rising to your face, and put a kettle on the stove.
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You collapse onto Mr. H as he rubs circles into your skin to help you feel better.
“Your stupid boss again?” he whispers.
You nod, careful not to make any noise that would wake up your daughter. She and her third grade class have their first ever state exam tomorrow, and you are determined to help her do well.
“Thanks for being here,” you sigh.
“Of course. It’s the least I can do,” he murmurs into your hair.
“No, the truth is, you don’t have to do any of this, yet here you are.”
He pauses at this, lips pressing into a fine line.
“Mr. H?” 
He looks down at you and once again, you are stricken by a sense of familiarity.
“Do you really not remember who I am?” he asks.
You want to shake your head, but your attention is already somewhere else, somewhere much more inviting. 
You watch his lips move as he repeats your name and feel yourself leaning closer as your eyes start to close. You see him giving up on the question as he mirrors your actions. You can’t remember the last time you felt so blissful wrapped up in someone’s arms like you belong there and nowhere else. 
However, as soon as your lips touch, he pulls away hurriedly and jumps off the couch. 
“I-I’m sorry!” you stammer.
“No!” he says too angrily. “I mean, don’t be; it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
“I should have read the signs. I should have known you don’t feel the same,” you continue, tears threatening.
He hurries back to you upon seeing your state. “No, no, you’re wrong, Y/N. I love you more than anything.”
His sudden confession surprises you. “But that ring…” You look at the wedding band he has on a chain around his neck every time you see him.
“Oh, this? It’s… it’s for someone I lost long ago.”
You let out a noise of understanding. “I’m sorry if I undermined your memory of her.”
“It’s not that…”
“Then why did you pull away? Do I-- Do I repulse you?”
“Don’t you dare think that!” he scolds. “If anything, it’s me who’s repulsive.”
“What do you mean?”
He drops his gaze. “They did a really good job, didn’t they?” 
“Mr. H, wha--”
“Three years I have spent looking for you, and five more I spent in your and Nayeon’s presences-- company which I do not deserve-- yet I have been so selfish, so unwilling to let it all go.”
“What are you--”
“But I can’t lie to you any more, Y/N. Not when I’ve spent all these years doing so.”
“Mr. H, please. You’re confusing me even more.”
“Levanter Inc,” he says suddenly.
“The memory erasing firm?” you frown. “What about them?”
He finally lifts his eyes to meet yours. “Are you sure you want to know the truth?”
“If that’s what’s keeping us apart, then yes,” you answer determinedly. 
He thinks for a moment before continuing, “I just want you to know, that if you want nothing to do with me anymore after learning it, I completely understand.”
“Mr. H…”
“You know that’s not my name.”
“Then what is it?”
He swallows a knot and reaches a hand towards yours. You let him take it and he slips a cold object onto your finger. It’s a wedding band, you realize. One that matches with his.
He twists it over to show you an engraving on the side. “Read it,” he tells you. “Read it and you’ll have the answers to everything.”
You cast him one final look before vocalizing the string of characters that encrowns your finger like it has been there your whole life.
And then the memories came flooding back.
You are hollow as you stare at the stick in your hands. You are supposed to be happy. At least, your sister was when she told you the news while wrapped up in her husband’s arms. Your best friend was too when she called you while her husband’s smooches sounded over the phone, so why aren’t you?
You let out a sigh as you drop it into a zip lock along with all the other tests that all read the same results. You look at the clock. It reads half past midnight, meaning it will be at least another two hours before your own husband arrives. You guess you can go to bed first like you do every night, but you know the discovery you just made is going to keep you restless. Instead, you keep busy by cleaning every spot of the house to distract yourself from the emptiness inside you. 
Truth is, you know why you aren’t happy about the news. You know why you haven’t been happy in general for a while now. Last month’s attempt to rekindle that flame with your husband had failed and resulted in the predicament you are in now. 
Perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing though; perhaps this is the push you needed, you realize as you wipe down the last of the kitchen counter. It’s a little past three now. You sit by the dining table with a glass of milk, facing the door waiting for the only person who can pass through it while fidgeting with your engagement ring. A half hour later, he stumbles past the threshold as drunk as he usually is.
“Y/N?” he grunts. “Why are you still awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.”
His tie is missing and he reeks of substances you can’t even name.
“Aren’t you going to ask why?”
He lets out a fed up exhale and turns to you. “Look, I work hard at my job every day and am exhausted. I don’t have time for this.”
You’re calm as you ask, “But you have time for this, right?” You pull out a bottle of whiskey and slam it on the table.
“So what if I do?” he snaps back. “I need something to distract me from what’s waiting for me at home!”
“I’m your wife,” you remind him bitterly.
“No, you’re just a regret.”
Instinctively, your hand flies up to your belly. Is this a regret too? It must be, you realize.
“What’s that?” he demands, spotting your bag of used tests on the coffee table.
“Nothing!” you insist, running to it first and hiding it behind your back.
“Give it,” he growls to which you shake your head. 
“Give it!” he screams again. 
When you don’t listen, he raises his palm and pierces the room with a clear smack as it connects with your face. As it does, the bag flies from your hands and he dives to catch it. You stare at him, scared senseless as an unreadable expression crosses his face as he realizes what is in his hands. Even the pain on your cheek can’t compare to the one in your heart as it slams itself against your rib cage.
Finally, when he looks up with stunned eyes, you snap out of your trance and slip your wedding ring off your finger. You press the metal into his palm and curl his clammy fingers around it.
“I’m sorry,” you begin, fighting back tears. “I know this is the last thing you wanted-- with me, at least-- but I know I can’t raise my child in this environment either. I hope you’re happier without us. I hope that you can keep your promise the next time you give someone this…”
With that, you turn on your heels and march out the front door.
“No wait, Y/N!” he cries after you, sounding completely sober now.
His height advantage lets him catch up to you in no time. He grabs your wrist to turn you around but immediately drops it when he sees the fire in your eyes.
With finality, you state, “Good bye, Hyunjin.”
~ ad.gold
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A/N: Thank you for your request and support! I’m sorry I couldn’t do your first request. I’ve actually never seen a Studio Ghibli film cause I’m a petty never-have-i-ever player and that one always gets everyone AHAHAHA. I hope you enjoyed what I have here! ~ad.gold
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nymphigeon · 4 years
Text
From me, to you || 01
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♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader
♤ Words: 2.1k
♤ Rating: PG-13
♤ Warnings (for this chapter): swearing, crime, a sex club, mentions of murder, blood, mentions of hybrid abuse, mentions of drugs, mentions of the mafia.
Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you'll give it to him.
Series masterlist
01 02
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The weather has been terrible lately. The summer heat has been replaced by cold days full of rain and wind. The sky is constantly grey with now and then a flash of light caused by the thunderbolt that decided to say hi. Leaves have turned brown, dying as the trees don’t have the resources to take care of them anymore.
The flock of people on the streets has all but disappeared, giving shops an opportunity to adjust their opening times. Animals feel the need to hide away more and leave to their homes underground or high up. Some even completely move to places where the sun shines brighter. Of course, because where the sun shines there is warmth.
Now sometimes autumn is associated with warm chocolate milk in front of the fire place wrapped up in a blanket. A slow song is playing in the background on low volume while you’re playing cards on the floor, or well most likely on a rug. Seated comfortably, your back against the sofa and your knees raised, nicely cuddled up into yourself, or perhaps someone else.
The sound of rain hitting the windows acts as a lullaby during your time inside. And if you do forcefully need to get out for a short time, the pleasant petrichor will softly welcome you. Or maybe this sounds more like winter? What does it matter, both seasons are cold.
At the time mother nature decided to shift it’s warmth to other places on earth, a thick layer of unease seemed to settle over the city. Like all the fun the sunrays brought were traded for despair. Awfully noticeable in how the amount of cases for the local police have risen dramatically.
People are staying at home so everyone who was hired during the busy summer has to be fired. There is too much staff otherwise. People in this particular town already aren’t the richest in the world, imagine what happens when employment rates drop.
Crimes have been a regular subject for the news. The few that did go outside, now stay at home out of fear. Curtains closed, lights out, please don’t enter my house. Or curtains opened, lights on, there is someone at home.
Most offenders have yet to been caught. Everyone is your enemy now. Don’t trust the neighbour who came home late last night. The sound of your glass falling is the window being broken. I’m calling the police.
While jewellery is being stolen at one side, someone will use the opportunity of the police being busy to kill the innocent. Or maybe they didn’t pay back the money they got from some sketchy dude in an alleyway down the street. Not so innocent anymore.
The only workers making bank at the moment are those with a career in law enforcement. Oh and those criminals were talking about. That includes hybrid dealers and unlicensed sex clubs.
When my boss called me to work, I didn’t expect to hear about a hybrid deal gone wrong inside said unlicensed sex club. Just for your information, treating hybrids like slaves has been long forbidden. You can own them, show off your wealth all you want, but the instant you hurt the half-animal you can see your money out the door. In return, you can expect expensive fines and imprisonment. At least that’s what is supposed to happen.
Still a blind eye is often turned to incidents involving hybrids by both the general public and law enforcements. You can also be fined for not turning in the information you have of a possible abuser, but say that’s also ignored, there is no other law backing the poor hybrid up.
The laws were originally established because the half-animals are also half-humans, created by some crazy scientist who perished years ago. Some rogue failed experiment turned on him. A warning for humans not to take in wild animal hybrids, not that anyone listened. Those wild animal hybrids are sometimes worth more money than the diamond necklace your mafia-boss husband got you.
The second I agreed to meet my colleagues at the crime scene I was hung up on, the beeping tone at my ear notifying me. I love the work I need to do, but I hate the people involved. It pays the bills though, so you won’t see me complaining. I get my stuff together and head out the house. It’s dark outside, raining too. The darkness might be explained by the fact that it’s 11 pm at night. Not the greatest time to be out. Luckily my job has provided me with a car, so you won’t see me walking.
During the ride the radio plays reports of different crimes throughout the city. Some happened at the exact same time, others had no connection whatsoever, yet they ended up being executed by the same group. Tv shows like CSI have been stuffing these sinners with the confidence to rob a place. The average criminal is luckily stupid enough not to know these shows don’t show the entire picture. However, that didn’t make them any easier to catch according to this radio report. On the other hand, what radio stations don’t know is that police won’t show them the entire picture either. Well they’re just there to spread panic, fact checking isn’t a job requirement.
The rain makes the view basically non-existent. Coming down like the angels are just throwing buckets of water over our heads, everything in the distance is blurry. Or maybe they just drank a lot, who knows. Weather reports have been warning for slippery roads, albeit I think they forgot to mention anything about nature made swimming pools outside of our houses.
Seeing as there is nothing good to report on the news they might as well downplay everything to give viewers their daily dose of good news. There is no good news though, and pretending that there is, is dangerous. Hope will only crush future expectations of being safe. Not that they care, they just need high ratings.
Seeing blurry blue and red lights in the distance is my indication that I’m getting close. I’ve never been to this part of town, if I had this so called sex club would’ve already been long gone. Don’t underestimate me, I can sense law breaking acts from a mile away. The fact that I don’t live too far away from addresses where everyone looks to be a drug addict just makes me better at my job.
I park my car next to the others at the side of the road and uncomfortably bend myself to take my bag from the backseat. I do not want to stand in this rain for longer than needed. I mentally prepare myself to get inside as fast as possible. I won’t worry about the sight inside too much, I’m used to it. 
I get out of the car and lock it, before walking over to the barricade tape. The outside of the club looks the same as any other sexual fantasy indulging club. Pink lights and posters of men and women in nothing but flimsy underwear plaster the windows. If it wasn’t for the bunch of officers behind the barricade tape, nobody would’ve known there was somebody murdered inside.
Reporters collect themselves in front of officers close to the tape, trying to get any kind of information out of them. They’re not getting any, so they keep trying, foolishly believing we know any more than they do. Well maybe a little more.
Anyways, without proper investigation we are just as clueless as they are. I’ll applaud their dedication though, as not all reporters have brought an umbrella with them. Imagine getting soaking wet just to ask a few questions. They might not have a raincoat, but they’re all somehow protecting their camera’s one way or another.
As I get closer to the tape blocking outsiders from entering, reporters notice me approaching. If it wasn’t for my uniform they wouldn’t even have batted a lash in my direction. Right now apparently, I’m the most interesting human being on earth. Remembering my trainings I keep my head low and ignore every question thrown my way, until I reach the officer waiting for me.
“Ah, detective Y/F/N Y/L/N, we have been expecting you.” He allows me to duck under the tape, fore shaking my hand and placing a gentle hand on my lower back. The umbrella he’s holding protects me from arriving inside looking like I just had a shower with my clothes on. Like this, I get escorted inside, leaving the flashing camera’s behind me.
“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N.” Another female detective greets me immediately once I step inside. The male officer gives me a nod ere disappearing back into the front garden of the club. Probably going to spend his time listening to silly questions and being blinded by light. At least he might make in on the front page of tomorrow’s newspapers. Maybe he’ll get scouted by some modelling agency just to appear on more front pages.
“David Brown, mid-thirties, and an employee at the club, Mia Labell, 23, both got killed after Brown tried to buy a hybrid of another man we can’t identify from the security footage. Both the hybrid and man wore a hood. We don’t know what went down inside the room as there are no camera’s inside and the walls are soundproof.” The woman, whose name is apparently Blair Miller as shown on the name badge on her chest, explains the situation while she leads me to the room.
“For an illegal sex club they are awfully professional.” I note, having paid close attention to her words. “Well if you don’t want to get outed by a customer I guess that’s the right thing to do. People value anonymity.” I  add as the other female holds up a key card against a control panel to the right of a metal door.
The door slides open after a beep of confirmation. A young girl laying on the large bed in the middle is the first thing I lay my eyes on. The bed sheets are tainted completely red with her blood. Next to the bed lies a man, drowning in a puddle of his own blood. The bodies of the two still look like they could stand up at any moment. “Time of death?”
I walk further into the room, looking around for any other clues I should note. “Approximately 10.38 pm for both of them.” Blair answers, meekly standing in the door opening. “How did they rent the room?” I put on a pair of white latex gloves, before gently expecting the girl on the bed, without moving her from her position. Her hands are tied together, thick ropes cutting into her skin. A gag in her mouth, a blindfold covering her eyes and some lingerie complete the look.
“They wanted one girl for the three of them, paid, then took this room as any other customer would.” Dangerous, there is no way to keep these girls safe. No camera’s, just selling them off to multiple men at the same time. Is there any security around here? The two bodies contain multiple stab marks in their chest and stomach area. There are no signs of any strangling or poisoning. Cause of death for now is bleeding to death, but we’ll have to wait for the autopsy.
“Three?” I don’t look at Blair as I voice my questions. I’m good at multitasking, no need to focus on one thing only. “Mister Brown, the unnamed man and the hybrid.” They rented the girl as normal, then tied her up and proceeded to use the room for their business. Seeing as both died around the same time, the girl was alive during their exchange. We can’t exactly ask her anything right now though.
“How did the culprit leave?” You take a swab from under the fingernails of both bodies, hoping they might have scratched whoever did this. “Leisurely strolled outside the front door with the hybrid on a leash.” The poor hybrid must have witnessed everything. There was never a reason for this to happen. “These two were found by a cleaner going in not even a minute or two later.” It’s not my job to care. It’s not my job to ask either, but I’m not heartless, I am able to feel sympathetic.
“How are they doing?” I look at Blair for this one. Maybe because it’s a different type of question. “Shocked at first of course. They’ve calmed down now.” That makes me feel better. I’ve been doing this for over 2 years, and never will I be able to understand how someone could do this. Then again, the reason for becoming a criminal investigator was not to understand anyway, but to serve, to protect. And protect I will.
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sternenteile · 4 years
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wrapping things up with some closure  on the ty/cho situation. this is the last time i will be bringing it up. if you’re wondering what i’m talking about, you can see the receipts and the files here. massive content and trigger warnings here include, and are surely not limited to, gaslighting, abuse, sexual harassment, ableism, antisemitism, racism, and most damning of all, literal and actual rape. i’m telling you, it’s bad. take my word for it when i say to avoid ty/cho at all costs. this is not some meager drama; this is a legitimately dangerous individual. what’s worse is there are even more details i know now (not included in the callouts) that i cannot divulge, as they do not involve me, as if this scum of the earth could be any worse. just know that this is a very terrible person and to not read the receipts if you don’t think you can handle the contents. in such a case, please just take my word for it instead and block him, avoid him, all that jazz. he is an actual rapist. avoid.
that being said, the theme i’ve noticed with all of this tomfoolery of his and actual crimes and traumatization of people is the domineering of an entire group of rpcs using intimidation tactics, including over those he’s hurt the worst, in the most reprehensible, objectively inexcusable ways ever.
the rpcs tycho played prominent roles in are beyond just pokemon and sonic. the way i met him was through the smash brothers rpc (which, unlike the general smash fan base, is a darling and kind community). smash is rather all-encompassing for video games even outside of nintendo, and he is plenty aware enough of the fandoms within that umbrella. mario, zelda, fire emblem, pokemon, sonic, metroid, castlevania... you name it, he knows it, and he will therefore have association with it that makes him a danger to these communities as is. his influence cannot be understated. he was a huge influence for a lot of people and groups.
the way he weaponized anything he could get his slimy hands on left so many people fearful and in silence. the worst i’d gotten were some jitters about how... out there and volatile he could be, but i’d otherwise not been suspicious of anything too egregious, especially nothing like what has come forth. i really didn’t get the brunt of it. however, the subtleties were there, and they had unfortunately lulled me into a sense of security that he, in all of his flaws, was a fine person and an admirable man. of course, we all know now how horribly wrong that is... but it goes to show that his charismatic nature had been used expertly to harm many people for his own selfish gain.
he left entire communities and groups of people mum on the situation. no one, no one was able to speak up in fear of retribution, not to mention the fact that his smooth way of manipulating people made it seem like he was on this untouchable pedestal. it was quite the opposite, and we all know that now. the only reason he was on a pedestal was because he brute-forced everyone else away from his level, threatening the worst if anyone so much as dared to find stable ground with him. in reality, though, his pedestal was a farce, a pillar filled with cracks that was destined to fall. it didn’t just crumble, though, no. it collapsed and was promptly blown to smithereens. once that one hunk of rubble came loose from that pedestal, his world came crashing the fuck down. it was an inevitability, and i’m sure he knew it was.
why would i make a statement that bold? simple: when i caught wind privately of what had gone on, i’d blocked him on all fronts. it hadn’t been more than perhaps a couple of hours before i realized that i’d still had him on my twitter, too, but he’d blocked me already before i got to do so myself. it often takes some time to realize a mass-blocking has happened, at least from what i can imagine (as i’ve not been mass-blocked like, ever before in this rpc i think?), but ty/cho was on it fast. it was almost as if he was watching and waiting for the shoe to drop. it was like he knew. it happened so quickly that it gave me whiplash. he was waiting for this.
another fun little detail i found was that he, as he had done to many other people who treated him with nothing but kindness, shit-talk me behind my back. let me tell you that the smash fan base is a terrible place where you can be harassed just for liking your comfort character, thinking they would be a good fit to the roster, even if your behavior is innocent and without harm or annoyance to other smash fans. those who have been here long enough will know that i’ve undergone a lot of bullshit because of my love for geno, and so have other geno fans who have done nothing but innocent speculation. one person i know personally had even gotten his and his elderly parents doxxed with death threats launched his way. i’ve seen people state that they want to, ah... let’s just say knock the wind out of geno’s fans and cover them in flammable material. let’s just put it that lightly. it’s very bad.
ty/cho knew this. i’d vented to him about it once. i praised him for being a competitive smash player that wasn’t as vile as any of the trash in that community (an as an addendum, there are some good comp smash players! the bad ones are just very prominent and very loud!). i praised him for accepting people of their comfort characters, emotional support through way of a character i connected with, not to mention the cases for many other folk, as well.
turns out, he used that information to shit-talk me behind my back, whining and complaining about me daring to like a character that ‘nobody cares about’ as if i was some fucking smegma gremlin on the face of the earth. you know, ty/cho? he did that, yeah? the guy who played nack the fucking weasel? the guy who knew i was sensitive about this shit because of what the smash fan base put me through? the guy who obsessed over and loved his own comfort character, too, and should have understood what that felt like?
needless to say, i’m pretty reviled about that. i entrusted him with this information, and he knew how much it hurt me... so he weaponized it. he specifically picked out what pained me and utilized it for harm when i trusted him. my case is a whole lot of NOTHING compared to everyone else’s, to be sure, but the core concept is chilling. he will find out what hurts you the most and attack you unprovoked with that knowledge. thank god it was just about my fucking comfort character and nothing worse, because others were unfortunately not as lucky. i got out totally unscathed by comparison.
the way he used puppet strings and played people like fiddles to keep his image pristine was beyond fucked up. he tarnished the trust of so many people. he made entire communities drop and leave because they were terrified of ty/cho ruining their lives even further. they felt unwelcome around excellent people who had done no wrong to them because of ty/cho, when said excellent people more than likely felt the same and feared them because of ty/cho. it poisoned the entire well for these communities and made everything go so quiet. the sonic rpc and smash rpc, in my experience, suffered the most. a lot of my sonic mutuals and sonic mutuals of friends either left or went awfully silent. the once-hopping smash rpc became practically like a ghost town. all. because. of. ty/cho.
he is a danger to both individuals and to entire communities alike. he doesn’t care about what we as people think, though, so how about i pull the nasty, petty card and hit him where it hurts? considering all that he did, i think it’s more than justified. ♡
ty/cho, you objectively will never live a fulfilling life where you make an impact on the world. you will never do anything medically if you can’t find it in yourself to empathize and care. you will never do anything for the people you supposedly ‘care for’ if you throw them under a bus at any and every opportunity. you will never do anything for racial justice if you use the movement and Black lives to abuse others, lie (nice to know that protest i feared for your life over turned out to have never happened in your area to begin with, LOL, i want my lost sleeping hours back) and better your own image. your image will never be a pristine, perfect image. you are not a god among men and never will be. you are not hot shit. you will not leave a positive legacy on the world. rapists don’t do that, you son of a bitch. go to hell where you belong and burn for eternity, where deviants like you become fucking rump roast. enjoy your unfulfilling life that will never amount to anything for yourself. :)
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