#i want to make it so so immensely clear that when i say chapter 1 was warm i don’t mean like. light because there was some Shit in it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scary-grace · 5 months

Text

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 16) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20

Chapter 16

The knock at the door comes as you’re putting on your shoes to leave, bright and early when the sun’s barely risen. Your mom calls out for you to go get it, since you’re closest, and you open the door just in time to get one of the nastiest shocks you’ve ever gotten in your life. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Hizashi says. He’s wearing a leather jacket with spikes on the shoulder pads and horrible triangular sunglasses, tinted yellow. “As to why I’m here at your parents’ house, I wouldn’t be if you’d stayed in your hotel like you were supposed to.”

Tomura did this. Why did Tomura do this? You hear footsteps down the hall and your mother almost knocks you over in her attempts to get a look at who’s at the door. “Are you Tomura?”

As pissed as you are that Hizashi’s here, the look on his face when he realizes he’s been mistaken for Tomura cracks you up. You lean against the doorframe, wheezing, while Hizashi tries to recover. “No, ma’am. I’m one of their neighbors.”

“Oh,” your mother says, puzzled, while you pray to every deity you can think of that she hasn’t realized that “they” refers to you and Tomura. You and Tomura, living together. “You’re a ways from home.”

“I’m on a mission! See, my husband’s a novelist – Aizawa Shouta, best of his generation – and your daughter agreed to take a research trip up here for him! But it looks like there’s going to be a lot more research than we thought, so Shou sent me up here to help out!” Hizashi gives your mother a smile that would probably be winning if it wasn’t so sharp. “Plus, I’ve got a car of my own. That way we can get back to the neighborhood tonight!”

You can only see your mother in profile, but you see her face fall. “You were supposed to meet the neighbors –”

“Oh, we can stay for that,” Hizashi says before you can say a word. “We won’t leave until after the party! Isn’t that right?”

He’s looking at you. You look back, wondering if he knows just how badly you want to kill him right now. “Right,” you say. You put your hand on your mom’s arm and she looks at you. “I promise I’ll stay for the party.”

She smiles at you, but there’s a line drawn between her brows, and you don’t know what to do about it. Not reassure her, that’s for sure. Hizashi clears his throat from the front step. “We’ve got lots of paper to go through. Let’s rock and roll!”

Your departure’s interrupted by your dad, who’s spotted Hizashi’s goddamn sports car and wants to ooh and ahh over it. Because your parents are both on the curb, you have to wait until you’re around the corner before you unload on Hizashi. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Ask your boyfriend,” Hizashi says. His smile’s gone. He looks just as pissed as you feel, except you’re a human and he’s a way-too-powerful former ghost who really doesn’t like you. “Two seconds after you left, he started putting the screws to every ghost in the neighborhood, trying to make somebody follow you.”

“Why?” you ask, baffled. “Nobody out here is looking for me.”

“They aren’t looking for you, and they can’t sense you at a distance, but if they come across you at close range they’ll know exactly what they’re looking at,” Hizashi says. He taps the horn at a moped and nearly scares the driver into a crowd of pedestrians. “Your weak human senses won’t let you see them coming, either, which is why I’m here. Call me your early warning system.”

“Okay, but aren’t you going to attract a lot of attention all on your own?” You really don’t like the fact that you’re in Hizashi’s car right now. As far as you can tell, the two of you are still headed for the museum, but you could veer at any moment. “You’re the most powerful one in the neighborhood next to Tomura. People can probably spot you from miles away, and when they come looking for you, they’ll spot me.”

“Not until they’re up close, and I’ll know they’re coming. Plenty of time for me to hide you somewhere.”

The way he says that, it sounds like he’s talking about hiding your dead body. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even like Tomura. Why would you do what he says?”

“So he’d stop trying to bully Shou into it.” Hizashi’s grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. “That, and one other reason. If anything happens to you away from the neighborhood, he’ll blow that house apart and come looking for whoever did it.”

And all Hizashi cares about is making sure Tomura stays in the neighborhood, stays a ghost. “You’re manipulating him.”

“As if. If anything, he’s manipulating me!” Hizashi scoffs. “I told him to send somebody else – somebody without kids, somebody who’s got free time on their hands – and he wouldn’t. Of course, his other option was Dabi, so that was never going to happen, even though Dabi owes him for sheltering Keigo during the Garaki thing – I swear, nobody does dick-measuring contests like live ghosts who are insecure about their humans –”

You’re pretty sure Dabi’s not insecure about Keigo. You hope Tomura’s not insecure about you, and even if he was, you’re pretty sure he could beat Dabi in a dick-measuring contest. Every time the two of you hook up you’re a little taken aback by how big he is. This isn’t a great time to be thinking about that. Luckily, Hizashi’s not paying attention. “But no! Instead of sending the neighborhood’s least favorite burnt marshmallow, he sends me. He must be really worried about you if he thinks it’s worth trapping us together in a car.”

You scrunch down in your seat, more than a little pissed off at Tomura. He might not know what Hizashi said to you the day of the fight with Garaki, but he knows it hurt you, and even if Hizashi’s changed his tune towards you, you doubt Hizashi actually cares whether you live or die. What Hizashi cares about is his family. His family, who will be under threat if Tomura destroys his house and leaves. His family, who Tomura will almost certainly kill if Hizashi lets anything happen to you.

There’s only one thing that can be said about it. “This sucks.”

“For once we agree.” Hizashi’s fingers drum against the steering wheel. “What’s the point of going to this museum again?”

“It used to be an asylum. The conjurer’s younger brother was there, and he died under questionable circumstances,” you say. “But he was there for a while before that. There are lots of records of him, and I want to see if he had anything to say about his brother.”

“Sneaky,” Hizashi remarks. “What are you hoping you’ll find?”

“I don’t know. Something. Anything I can use.” You scrunch further down in your seat. “I was useless fighting Garaki, but the stuff I found out about him helped us get ready. This is the only thing I can do that might help Tomura win.”

“You could always die. He’d be so mad about it that his conjurer wouldn’t stand a chance,” Hizashi says. “Of course, he’d probably take half the city out along with him.”

You decide not to dignify that with a response and resign yourself to an hour and a half of Hizashi picking on you, trying to get you to lose your temper. Your phone pings and you pull it out of your backpack to find Tomura’s contact number. He’s texting you. Is he there?

He’s not even pretending he didn’t do it. My parents thought he was you. You hesitate a moment, then send another text. I don’t need a babysitter.

You didn’t need to leave, either. Tomura discovers the emoji keyboard and sends you twelve in a row, none of which make any sense. Tell me if he does anything to you. I’ll kill him.

It says something about you that you honestly think it’s sweet of Tomura to offer, but it’s long past time for you to fight your own fights with Hizashi. You interrupt him in the middle of a lengthy digression about why Tomura chose poorly when he chose you as his human and drop the conversational equivalent of the atomic bomb. “You know, I used to wonder if you forced Aizawa to marry you.”

Hizashi nearly drives off the road. “You what?”

“Yeah. The way your meet-cute went, it sounds like he didn’t really have a choice,” you say. Antagonizing Hizashi is a stupid move, especially when you’re stuck in the car with him, but you’re tired of being his punching bag. “Did you ever wonder about that? Do any of you ever wonder if your humans really wanted you?”

“Watch it,” Hizashi warns through clenched teeth. “If you keep running your mouth off –”

“You say this kind of stuff to me all the time,” you point out. “Except you say worse things about Tomura than I’d ever say about Aizawa. I’m not taking it lying down anymore. So either we keep going like this and I give as good as I get, or we accept that we’re stuck together for the next eighteen hours and call a truce. Your choice.”

Trying to be reasonable with a ghost who doesn’t want to understand is like smashing your head repeatedly against a brick wall. But you can see that Hizashi’s thinking about it. He doesn’t like having his bullshit turned around on him, and he knows he can’t retaliate worse. And you are stuck together for the next eighteen hours. “Tell me about humans, then,” he says finally. “Since you know so much.”

“Can’t you ask Aizawa about humans?”

“There are things he says I won’t get. That he knows I won’t get, because my frame of reference is wrong.” It sounds like it bothers Hizashi. Like it bothers him a lot. “I’m two hundred and nineteen years old. My frame of reference is pretty fucking broad. But apparently it’s not broad enough to get it.”

“Get what?”

Hizashi doesn’t answer. “Here’s the deal. I’ll tell you everything you want to know about ghosts. The kind of shit your stupid brat ghost won’t say. You tell me what I want to know about humans. That’s our truce. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it,” you say, wondering what Hizashi thinks Tomura won’t say about being a ghost. “What does Aizawa think you don’t get?”

“Sacrifice,” Hizashi says. You blink. “If he had to save me or the kids, he’d save the kids, and he thought I’d say the same thing. Like it’s a no-brainer. Why?”

“I don’t have kids,” you remind him.

“The way he reacted, it’s not a parent thing. It’s a human thing. You’re supposed to choose the kids,” Hizashi says. “Why?”

“Um –” You really don’t want to wade into this, but you also don’t want to spend the rest of the day going back and forth with Hizashi to see who can be the bigger asshole. “It’s – when you have kids, they’re here because of you. The only reason they’re here is because you wanted them to be. So a lot of people think your responsibility should be to them over everything else. Over you and over your job and over the stuff you own – and over your spouse.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hizashi says flatly. “I love my kids. I’d do anything for them. Except let my human die.”

With Hizashi’s conjurer and Eri’s conjurer both dead, this little hypothetical is probably never going to come to pass. But you’re thinking of something else, something Aizawa said about how to convince ghosts to change their behavior. “Think about it this way,” you suggest. “If you saved Aizawa and let the kids die, he would never forgive you.”

“If I didn’t, he’d be dead. It wouldn’t matter.”

“Nobody knows what happens after you die.” You shrug. “It might be nothing, but you might see him again.”

Hizashi glances sideways at you. “It’s not nothing,” he says. Your stomach lurches. “The world we come from is called the world between for a reason. It’s our entire world, but it’s nothing more than a pathway for your kind. Sooner or later, you all pass through.”

You’ve seen into the world between. It’s horrifying. “Pass through to what?”

“We don’t know,” Hizashi says. “I’ve followed those paths. Most of us do, if we stay there long enough to grow up. We can’t cross over, so we don’t know for sure. All I can tell you is there’s something there.”

You think of something Tomura said a long time ago: They embodied themselves so they could follow their humans. Wherever they go. Even after they’re dead. Hizashi laughs quietly. “One of these days I’ll find out.”

He sounds pretty unconcerned about the possibility. Then again, he’s never said he’s scared of dying – only of outliving Aizawa. You don’t want to talk about the afterlife anymore. “Did I answer your question?”

“Close enough.” Hizashi merges onto the freeway and accelerates. “Your turn. Got any ghost questions for me?”

Just one. “What happens if a ghost kills their own conjurer?”

“Nothing good,” Hizashi says. Your heart sinks. “First of all, it’s hard. They’ll draw on their other ghosts to fight back, and you’ll have to blast through those ghosts, too. If you’re permanently embodied, it’s not possible. They’ll just kill you. If you aren’t embodied and you take out your conjurer personally, you’re breaking your link to this world.”

Aizawa told you there was only one way out once a ghost has been summoned. Probably because he never expected things to go like this. “It sends them back?” you ask. “Every time?”

“Every time I’ve seen, which isn’t many.” Hizashi shrugs. “Theoretically he could fight it. If he took out the other ghosts, drained his conjurer, and embodied himself, he’d have a chance. But he’d have to want it. More than –”

“He’s ever wanted anything else, in all his existence.” You don’t need to fill in what you and everybody else in the neighborhood have figured out already: Tomura doesn’t want to be human. “This is more important than I thought, then. If you want him to keep protecting the neighborhood, the rest of us have to figure out how to kill his conjurer.”

You and Hizashi spend the rest of the drive to the asylum talking about conjurers. As the oldest ghost you know of, Hizashi’s seen a lot as far as conjurers go, and he even met some of the other ghosts Tomura’s conjurer summoned. You ask him what they were like and watch his expression turn grim. “By human standards, I’m a monster,” he says. It doesn’t weird you out even slightly to hear him admit it. It’s more of a relief than anything else. “Compared to those ghosts, I’m nothing. We’re lucky none of them are left.”

“If none of them are left, then what’s Tomura’s conjurer going to bring as backup?” you ask. “There’s no way he’ll come alone.”

“More Nomus, maybe?” Hizashi runs a red light and waves cheekily at the semi-truck he just cut off before roaring into the museum’s parking lot at full speed. “Let’s hope this place helps us figure it out.”

The old asylum looks exactly like what it is – a place built hundreds of years ago to imprison people who just needed help. You don’t pick up anything at all from setting foot on the property, but Hizashi hesitates to get out of the car, and once he does, his face goes pale. “You’re not getting that? Damn. I guess if his aura didn’t put you off, this wouldn’t either, but – damn.”

“No, I feel it.” You do, not on the grounds, but with every step you take inside the museum. There’s something about this place – not scary, but sad. From your research, you know this was the kind of the place where people locked up their family members and threw away the key. You imagine being dragged through these doors, never to come out alive, and feel your stomach lurch. “It’s – not good in here.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Hizashi leans against the wall and takes out his phone, only looking up when he realizes you’re staring at him. “This is your party, not mine. Get to work.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter. Of course he won’t make himself useful. You square your shoulders and head for the front desk alone. “Hi. I’m here about Shigaraki Yoichi.”

“Yes, the curator warned me you’d be coming.” The docent looks you up and down. “What’s your interest in this former inmate?”

“I’m, um –” You should have thought of an excuse ahead of time. “I’m –”

“Sorry, she’s a genealogist. She doesn’t get out much.” Hizashi’s there, suddenly, his arm slung around your shoulders and his mouth running a mile a minute. “We’ve got this client, see – old family, not much to go off of, but he’s pretty interested in his family history. It took us a lot of legwork to find this place! We think this Shigaraki guy might be the missing piece in our client’s family tree, so we’re here to check into it. How about we get started?”

In spite of his bizarre outfit, the docent clearly finds Hizashi a lot more credible than you. It bothers you. “What happened to ‘your party, not mine’?”

“The faster we get this done, the faster I get back to my husband and kids.” Hizashi is all business as the two of you step into the archive room and stare down at the table full of documents that awaits you. “All right. Divide and conquer. I’ll take everything on the left, and you can –”

“I’ll take the left side,” you say. The right side has a lot of photos, and you don’t want Hizashi hovering over your shoulder while you’re trying to read. “It’s still my party.”

You’re expecting Hizashi to bitch about it, but all he does is ask you for a pen and one of the notebooks you brought, which you’re happy to provide. Shigaraki Yoichi’s files don’t have an organization system, or if they did, it vanished sometime in the two hundred years since he died. You resign yourself to starting from scratch, pull on the mask and pair of gloves the docent provided, and get to work with the first set of files.

You were worried there’d be nothing useful, but it turns out that this asylum was pretty on top of things as a function of serving mostly rich families. The Shigaraki family was absolutely loaded for the time period, and if Akira’s managed to hang onto even a little bit of that wealth through the ensuing centuries, interest rates will have turned it into a fortune. With this kind of money, Shigaraki Akira could erase his own identity and recreate it a thousand times over, pay off anyone he needed to pay off, make anything that could be traced back to him disappear. With this kind of money, it’s a miracle you found anything about him at all.

But you’re not focusing on Akira right now. You take a few notes based on his brother’s admission paperwork, then open the folder containing the medical chart.

Shigaraki Yoichi was ill almost from birth. It looks like tuberculosis. That’s what the autopsy report says, anyway, and you’re not a doctor, so you can’t come up with another reason why his lungs might bleed. His mental health looks like it was normal for the first few years of his life, with an episode of some kind occurring when he was eight. When he was eight, and his brother Akira was sixteen. Yoichi is described as being tormented by nightmares, even in waking. He’s quoted as raving about cold places in his home, of unseen things touching him, of feeling constantly, unceasingly watched. Reading over it sends a faint chill down your spine, and cold certainty settles in the pit of your stomach. Yoichi might have been crazy. But he was definitely being haunted.

He had a pet – it doesn’t say what kind – that died, withered into a husk as it slept next to him on the bed. The family appears to have seen it as a small sadness, nothing worth crying over for more than a day or two. Yoichi saw things differently. He swore up and down to anyone who would listen that his older brother killed his pet. His older brother, and his friends.

The doctor or worker or whoever was taking Yoichi’s history took the time to point out that all of Akira’s friends, and Akira himself, were confirmed to be elsewhere on the night in question. But not all of Akira’s friends, you don’t think. At least one stayed behind. At least one couldn’t leave.

Your first big shock comes when you learn that Yoichi begged to be sent to the asylum, that he was happy to be there. He kept a journal during that time, too, and you turn the ancient pages carefully, reading the words of a long-dead man who, for the first time in his life, sounds completely sane. It doesn’t take you long to realize what must have happened. Yoichi figured out at some point that the ghost his brother summoned to haunt him was tied to the house. All he had to do to escape it was to leave.

Yoichi lived in the asylum for seven years before anyone from his family came to visit him. The notes say that after a visit from his brother, Yoichi’s mental health degraded significantly. It shows in his journal, too. He draws things – shapes in the shadows, in the smoke from a candle, in the steam – and with every page you turn, he sounds more and more desperate, more and more hopeless. He writes about marks that appear on his body, marks only he can see, and the slow, suspicious deaths of every friend he’s made. In the notes, he’s described as paranoid, fixated on his brother. In his journal, he’s perfectly clear: I will not survive much longer. I want it known to whoever reads this that he did this to me. But I will not go quietly. I will resist him for as long as my spirit holds out, in life and in death. For all his power, he cannot touch the souls of the dead. It is my turn to haunt him.

You tap Hizashi on the shoulder, and he looks up, annoyed. You ignore it. “Can humans stay behind?”

“What?”

“After we die,” you say, and understanding crosses Hizashi’s face. “Can humans stay behind?”

“In theory,” Hizashi says. “Why do you ask?”

You slide Yoichi’s journal carefully across the table to him. Hizashi reads over it. “It’s possible in theory,” he says again. “In practice, your kind’s souls leave this world like they’re being fired out of a cannon. It would take an insane amount of willpower to hang on without a living body as an anchor. I’ve met maybe two humans – ever – who could pull a move like that. Did this guy really want vengeance that much?”

“Not vengeance, I don’t think.” Your eyes catch on one word in the journal entry. Resist. “He knew what his brother was. He wanted to stop him.”

You look around the archive room, a thought crossing your mind. “Do you think he’s still here?”

“Doubtful. If he really stuck around, he wouldn’t have been tied to this place the way a ghost would be,” Hizashi says. “If he stayed behind and if he went anywhere, it was probably after his brother. Or after anybody who could deal with his brother.”

Somebody was dealing with his brother – Mr. Yagi and his master. Hizashi glances over at the journal again. “How does it say he died, anyway?”

The entry you just read is the last entry in the journal. You reach for Yoichi’s chart again and come face to face with the causes of death: Starvation and dehydration, both severe, with no other complicating factor. You recall a coroner’s report saying Yoichi starved himself to death, and the chart says he stopped eating, but one of the people who cared for him added a note of their own. They said that Yoichi ate and drank as normal, but it didn’t matter – He withered away before my eyes into a shell of himself. Withered. Just like the pet that was killed by the ghost did.

You don’t realize you didn’t answer until Hizashi leans over your shoulder and reads for himself. “This whole thing smacks of Tomura,” he says aloud. You glare at him. “No, I know this wasn’t him. But Shigaraki here has a type of ghost he prefers. They don’t just kill, they torment. They destroy.”

“Isn’t that what you did?”

“Artfully,” Hizashi says. He slides the notebook he’s been sketching in across the table to you. “There’s nothing artful about this.”

You take one look and recoil. “I did this off a sketch in there, since we can’t take photos,” Hizashi says. He turns the page quickly, but the image of Shigaraki Yoichi’s twisted, shriveled corpse is going to stick with you for a long time. “Check this out, though. Shigaraki Yoichi, age twenty-five. Who does he look like?”

Tomura. He looks sort of like Tomura. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing,” Hizashi says innocently. “We’ve got no control over what we look like when we materialize, by the way. It just happens, and not everybody gets blessed with my good looks.”

“Why mention it, then?”

“It’s just funny,” Hizashi says. “How Tomura’s the only one who didn’t go completely fucking batshit crazy, and how he’s also the only one who looks like his conjurer’s crazy little brother.”

“He doesn’t look that much like him,” you say. You pull your phone out of your pocket, realize that you get approximately zero reception in the archive room, and stand up. “I’ll be back. I have to make a call.”

Hizashi shoos you off, and when you glance back over your shoulder on your way out, you see him peering at your notebook. Fine. It’s not like there’s anything in there you aren’t planning on telling the entire rest of the neighborhood once you get back.

The instant your phone gets reception back, you get a truly insane pileup of texts – from Magne, Himiko, Spinner, Keigo, and even Aizawa. But even all their texts together are still dwarfed by the sheer number of texts you’ve gotten from Tomura. You can only stare in horror, and as you watch, another three texts come in.

Two of them are from the ghost friends groupchat. Aizawa’s direct-replying to Keigo. What on earth possessed you to use that word?

It’s just a word! How was I supposed to know it would make him worse? Keigo’s indignance is leaking through the phone. ‘Dead zone’ is metaphorical! It’s not –

You stop reading and call Tomura before he can text you again or blow up the house. “I’m fine,” you say the instant he answers, and before he can say a word. “There are places where phones don’t get good service and the room the documents are in is one of them. That’s why your messages weren’t going through.”

“Then why is it called a dead zone?”

Tomura sounds stressed. You haven’t heard him sound like that since the time he conference-called the ghost friends while you were sick. “It’s just a turn of phrase,” you say. “Humans use ‘dead’ a lot to mean that something doesn’t work. Like something being dead in the water means it’s stopped working. Somebody being dead weight means they’re not helping as much as they should. The slowest runner in a race is dead last. Does that make any sense?”

Tomura’s quiet for a moment, then renders his verdict. “Humans say ‘dead’ too much.”

“Maybe,” you say. Tomura makes an irritated noise. “Hey, can you relax? I don’t know what you were doing to the house, but whatever it was, it probably scared Phantom. She doesn’t like loud sounds.”

“She’s fine. I wasn’t being loud.” Tomura still sounds guilty, which means something got damaged, and based on the fact that the entire neighborhood was texting you, it probably had something to do with the lights. You wonder how many lightbulbs you’re going to have to replace when you get back. “You should have told me about the spots with bad service.”

“I would have if I’d known you were going to freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Tomura snaps. “Did you learn anything? Was there any point to you going?”

“Yeah, I learned some stuff,” you say. “I’ll know more once I call my boss.”

“Is that why you looked at your phone? To call him?”

“I was going to text you, too,” you say. Tomura hasn’t been this clingy in a while. It’s getting annoying – except last night you were upset because he hadn’t called, so you’re clingy, too. “I didn’t come here to get away from you, Tomura.”

“I know,” he says. “I didn’t think you ran. I thought – I don’t know. He didn’t pick up, either. I thought –”

He thought something happened to you. “Nothing happened,” you promise. “I’ll be home late tonight or early tomorrow. Everything’s fine.”

“I should have gone with you.”

Your stomach clenches. “Don’t be stupid. We wouldn’t have anywhere to live if you’d gone with me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Tomura doesn’t follow up with what he’s actually saying, which is good, because you already know. This fight’s been brewing for a month, and you don’t want to have it over the phone. “Just go call your boss.”

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll message you when me and Hizashi are done. I –”

You cut yourself off one word into the slip-up. You haven’t come that close in a while. “What?” Tomura asks.

“I miss you. Bye.”

You hang up the phone, cursing the near miss. You have a rule about telling Tomura you love him, which is that you don’t do it. You call Mr. Yagi instead, and even though it’s Saturday, he picks up right away. “Sir, did you and your master ever encounter a spirit? A human spirit?”

“A human spirit,” Mr. Yagi repeats. “In what sense?”

“Something – friendly,” you say. “Or maybe not friendly. Just not harmful. To you.”

The instant you say it, you realize how similar it sounds to the way you originally thought about Tomura. Dangerous, but not dangerous to you. “I would not have called it human then,” Mr. Yagi says, “but for a time, early in our hunt for Shigaraki Akira, a presence accompanied my master and I. Neither she nor I had words for it. It was not something either of us had encountered before.”

Hizashi said it would be rare, if it was even possible at all. Mr. Yagi’s voice is wary when he speaks. “Why do you ask?”

“Shigaraki Yoichi. In his last journal entry, he swears to stay behind after his death and oppose his older brother,” you say. You hear Mr. Yagi suck in a breath. “Could it have been him?”

“If it was, the strength of his spirit must have been immense,” Mr. Yagi says. “Human souls were not made to dwell here without bodies. To remain with us as long as he did would take a tremendous act of will, and to provide any kind of strength – he aided us in our battles on more than one occasion.”

“So he had power.”

“Great power. Human souls aren’t fragile the way the souls of ghosts are,” Mr. Yagi says. “They cannot be blasted apart. In our early battles, this spirit – Shigaraki Yoichi, if you’re correct about this – shielded me from errors that would have killed me otherwise. Instead I was able to learn from my mistakes. By the time the spirit departed, I was more than able to fight for myself.”

So Yoichi’s mission did succeed. He was able to resist his brother. “Do you know why he left?”

“I assume that once we no longer needed him, his will to remain in this world was no longer sufficient to resist the pull of the world beyond,” Mr. Yagi says. “To resist as long as he did was miraculous.”

“How long ago did he vanish?”

“That will take me a moment. My memory is not what it once was.” Mr. Yagi speaks up again after maybe two seconds. “Between a hundred and a hundred and twenty years ago.”

“Okay,” you say. “Did he ever say anything to you? Were you able to communicate with him at all?”

“I was not, but my master was. I’ll check her journals and let you know what I find.”

You thank Mr. Yagi and hang up the phone. Before you go inside, you text an apology to the ghost friends groupchat for whatever nonsense Tomura pulled. And then you sit there for a second, trying to figure out how to respond to the pileup of crazy texts Tomura sent.

You try to put yourself in his shoes, think about what this looks like from his side. The person you care about has left. They gave you a phone so you could talk to them, only they’re not answering, and the person you sent with them to protect them isn’t answering, either. You know the world’s dangerous. You’re worried that the person you care about will leave you for good. You don’t understand enough about the outside world to come up with alternate explanations for the undelivered messages. Thinking about it like that, it’s not a surprise that Tomura panicked.

It's not your fault, but you still want to make him feel better. Feeling twenty kinds of crazy, you snap a quick selfie and send it to him. Then you send a message – thinking about you – and add a heart emoji to go with it.

It’s not a lie. You are thinking about him. The heart emoji isn’t a lie, either. But it feels weird. This is the kind of thing you’d do with a boyfriend, and Tomura – you remember last night and wince. The two of you defined the relationship. He is your boyfriend. Which makes it not weird at all, except for the part where your boyfriend’s a ghost.

Ghost boyfriend. You have a ghost boyfriend. The thought’s so absurd that you’re still giggling about it when you get back to the archive room. Hizashi looks up, scowling, as you step through the door. “What’s so funny?”

You put your mask back on and make an effort to get your shit together. “I talked to my boss. He says that there was a presence following them – helping them – from the time they started fighting Shigaraki until about a hundred and twenty years ago. After that it vanished. He said he thinks its will just ran out.”

“Huh,” Hizashi says. He doesn’t look convinced. “You know what else happened a hundred and twenty years ago?”

“You got an ear piercing you regret?”

Hizashi’s scowl deepens. “I know you’re not this stupid, human. What happened a hundred and twenty years ago that’s relevant to you, specifically?” You get the answer, but not fast enough for Hizashi’s liking. “If you’re right, if Yoichi stuck around, if he was helping your boss and his master, and if he fucked off purposely a hundred and twenty years ago, where would he have gone except straight to that house?”

“What would have been the point of that?” You look at your notes, then at the pile of papers left. Then at your watch. “Let’s just copy the rest of these word for word. We can go through them when we get back.”

“Fine by me.” Hizashi picks up his pen again.

By the time the two of you leave the museum for good, you’ve copied down everything including the photos, courtesy of Hizashi’s apparent skills as a sketch artist. You’ve also got a bunch of texts – from the ghost friends groupchat accepting your apology for all of Tomura’s nonsense, from your mom wondering what time you and Hizashi will be back, one from Spinner that’s just a list of crazy things Tomura’s been naming his Pokémon. One from Mr. Yagi, telling you that he and Izuku are compiling every mention of the spirit from his master’s journals. A bunch from Tomura that are just pictures of empty space, in various spots in the house, occasionally with Phantom in the background.

It’s so weird that you eventually have to show it to Hizashi, who takes one look and cracks up. “Idiot,” he cackles. “He’s trying to take a selfie.”

Live ghosts don’t show up clearly on camera, even when they’re embodied. Tomura figured that out about twenty photos in. Hizashi, who’s still got your phone and is refusing to give it back, reads the texts aloud. “I’m materialized so it should work. This is stupid. You’re gonna forget what I look like.” Hizashi howls with laughter. “It would be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

You snatch your phone away from Hizashi before he can read any more of your texts. You read the remaining messages from Tomura in silence. Phantom misses you. She keeps going from room to room and crying. That’s not a surprise – Phantom’s barely been away from you since you adopted her. It makes sense that she’d be worried about where you are. You said you were thinking about me. What are you thinking about?

A lot of things. You’re not sure how to break them down, but somehow it feels easier to talk to Tomura by text than in person. He can’t see your face like this, read what you’re feeling from it. He only knows what you tell him. Different things. What you and Phantom are up to. What we should do when I get back. Whether you and Tomura have been sharing space with the spirit of Shigaraki Yoichi all this time. If it was really necessary for you to send Hizashi up here after me. That kind of thing.

It was necessary. So you’d be safe. Tomura types fast. Are you coming home yet?

In a couple hours. I have to meet my parents’ neighbors first so they’ll know my parents weren’t lying about having a daughter.

That was mean. You shouldn’t have said that, but you’re tired and stressed, and you wish more than anything that you were already home. Tomura responds. When are they coming to meet me?

You almost choke on thin air. You don’t want to meet them.

I’m supposed to. That’s what happens with boyfriends in those dumb romance movies.

It’s been a while since you wished you’d been more careful about what you let Tomura watch. You didn’t miss the feeling, and you’d love to never put your parents and Tomura in the same room – but your parents know Tomura exists, and they want to meet him, too. We can talk about it when I get back.

Tomura’s only been texting for twenty-four hours, and he already has some bad habits, like hopping subjects whenever he feels like it instead of in any way that makes sense. Send me another picture.

You’ve created a monster. You sigh and send another selfie, and in the driver’s seat, Hizashi snorts. It bothers you for some reason. “Do you have a problem? How did you get pictures of Aizawa?”

“Took them myself,” Hizashi says with a shrug.

“Did he know you were taking them?”

Hizashi waves one hand. “Technicality.”

“No, it isn’t,” you say. “What did he say when he found out about you?”

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my hospital room?” Hizashi says, and you muffle a snicker. “But I’d just saved his life. That bought me a whole lot of goodwill. How did your gloomy brat introduce himself? Flopping face-first in your lap and begging for attention?”

“No,” you say. You’re not about to say that your first official introduction to Tomura occurred in your bathroom right after you stepped out of the shower. “A coyote broke into the yard and attacked me and Phantom, and he saved us.”

“Huh,” Hizashi says. It’s quiet for a second. “People are going to ask how you met him. If you want them to like him, tell them that.”

You sit there, your mind blank. “Say it was on a walk or something,” Hizashi continues. “Don’t tell them he was in your yard.”

“That’s good advice,” you say after a moment. “Thanks.”

By the time you get back to your parents’ house, their party is in full swing. You knew that they invited you for a reason, and that the reason was to prove that they definitely weren’t lying about having a daughter. You know that. And still, it’s – nice. It’s nice that your parents want to brag about you, to introduce you to their neighborhood as their daughter who’s got a job and a boyfriend and a house of her own. It’s nice to hear them talk about you like they’re proud of you.

You’re conscious of Hizashi lurking at the edges of the party, and Hizashi’s words never really left your head. Mommy and Daddy didn’t love you enough. Maybe they didn’t. There’s nothing you could have done to change the way you grew up. But you’re okay now. You’re happy now. If they want to be proud of who you’ve become, that’s fine with you.

It’s fine with you, but you’re still glad to be out of there when it’s time. Your parents are worried about you and Hizashi driving home so late, but Hizashi’s wide awake, and you don’t think there’s any way you can fall asleep in his presence. You’re pretty sure he won’t kill you, but still. “Here,” your mother says, pushing a travel mug full of coffee into Hizashi’s hands. Hizashi protests that she should keep her mug, and she shakes her head. “I’ll pick it up later. We’ll be coming down for a visit soon.”

It’s a good thing you’ve already said goodbye and gotten in the car, and that Hizashi’s car has tinted windows. You’re pretty sure all the blood drains right out of your face.

Even if your mom didn’t see it, Hizashi does, and he spends the first fifteen minutes of the drive laughing about it. “You should throw a party just like they did. Let them meet the whole neighborhood at once, and maybe they’ll be so distracted by the cute kids and what Dabi looks like that they won’t notice what a crusty goblin your boyfriend is.”

You scrunch down in your seat like a twelve-year-old. “I’ll just tell him to stay invisible. And I’ll tell them he’s out of town.”

“Good luck convincing him to stay invisible. They might be the two people in the world he’s actually interested in meeting.” Hizashi gets his snickering under control and sobers up slightly. “What is it with you humans and wanting to hide us from your families, anyway? We’re important, but you all do it. Why?”

“We’re used to you guys. They aren’t,” you say. “Even when you’re embodied, there’s something a little – off. More than just your eyes.”

It’s hard to explain what it is, but there’s something with every ghost you’ve met other than Mr. Yagi. Maybe if you’d known about ghosts before you met him, you would have been able to spot it with him, too. “Besides, I don’t get the sense that a lot of us have families we want to introduce anybody to.”

“That’s sort of a theme. Shou’s theory is that most people who end up hanging with ghosts have had some pretty bad experiences with humans.” Hizashi flips on his turn signal, hops in the high-speed lane, and floors the accelerator. “Your parents aren’t bad. A little cold, maybe. Definitely not bad enough to make hanging out with Tomura the better offer.”

He’s throwing out bait, waiting for you to jump on it. You’re not going to. You sit quietly as five or six miles zoom past, and Hizashi speaks up again. “What, you’re not going to defend him?”

“Nothing I say is going to change your opinion about me or about him,” you say. “Nothing you say is going to change my opinion about him, either. So there’s no point.”

“Stubborn, huh?” Hizashi chuckles. “I like that in a human. You probably could have done better than him, but he could have done a hell of a lot worse than you.”

Any compliment from Hizashi’s sure to have a backhand to it. You’re just tired enough to take this one at face value – ignoring the fact that the person giving it hates you, ignoring the fact that Tomura’s never going to embody himself permanently, ignoring the fact that you’re most likely walking into a fight you’ve been putting off for a month when you get home. You give up on scrunching down and roll your seat back instead. “Thanks.”

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

49 notes · View notes

nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months

Text

Beach Side Resort | Prologue

PAIRING | Ari Levinson x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.6K

SUMMARY | After being laid off your old job you've been searching for a new one for months. When you're at the point of giving up hope you see a vacancy for the new resort in your town, and you're excited to apply there. You're invited for an interview, and it's your goal to make such a good impression, they never want to let you go.

WARNING(S) | None.

A/N | Welcome to the first part of my new series with Ari! I wish you all a lot of fun during this one, and I can't wait to hear what you all think! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩵

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | Header & 18+ banner are made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Ari Levinson Masterlist | Series Masterlist Chapter 1

Finding a new job has been challenging since you got laid off from your old one. There were budget cuts, and you were one of the unfortunate souls who fell victim to them.

That was three months ago, and even though you have more than enough money to last a few more months, you're itching to return to work.

You've been to dozens of job interviews but have not succeeded, so you scrolled through another website for job openings.

You are about to give up when your eye falls on a very interesting one.

''Wanted: Staff for the new Beach Side Resort''

You click on it, wondering what this will be, and you're pleasantly surprised that there are a lot of vacancies available. When you scroll down, you see that the listing was posted a while ago, which explains a lot.

There are administrative vacancies, guest services, cleaning and maintenance, the kitchen, and more, but your eye immediately falls on the listing for Front Desk Supervisor.

After reading through it, you can already see yourself filling this position, and you immediately decide to write your motivation letter so you can apply as soon as possible.

About an hour and two cups of tea later, you've finished it and sent it out to the people of the resort. Now, all you have to do is wait because it can take up to a week before they contact you.

You've walked by the resort quite a few times since it's relatively close to your house, and you live near the beach, so you tend to spend a lot of time there alone or with friends.

After you sigh, you shut your laptop and walk over to said beach since it's a beautiful day in Florida today. Before doing so, you change into your pink playsuit to look more presentable to the outside world.

A nice walk on the beach usually clears your head, and it relaxes you immensely, but you're not planning on going alone. First, you'll stop at your best friend's apartment to see if he's also willing to come along for your walk.

You knock on your best friend's door, but to your surprise, it's not him opening it but his boyfriend, Bucky.

''Hi, Gorgeous. What can I help you with today?'' he asks, and you can't help but smile at him.

''Hi, Bucky, does Steve happen to be home? I was hoping he would come along for a walk at the beach. I have to tell him something important, and I was going on that walk regardless, so I figured I might do both at the same time,'' you tell him, and as if he heard you, Steve appears in the doorway behind Bucky.

You still find it impressive that even though Bucky towers over you, Steve is taller, and you must lean your head back pretty far to look at him.

''Ah, speak of the Devil!'' you joke, and Bucky steps aside, leaving you two alone.

''Hey, Munchkin,'' he says as he envelops you in a hug, and you can't help but take a whiff of his cologne. He always smells so good, and it smells just like home.

''Are you free to take a walk at the-'' you want to say, but then you hear the unmistakable sound of Alpine meowing behind him, so you push him to the side and practically run into his apartment.

Bucky is holding Alpine in the crook of his metal arm, scratching her between her ears as she gets comfortable in her spot.

''Hello, little one,'' you coo at Alpine as you scratch her chin, practically melting as she wraps her paws around your arm to keep you in your place.

Steve shakes his head with a smile at seeing you, but he just closes the door and lets you do your thing until you're ready.

''Who's such a perfect girl, huh? Who's the prettiest girl in this apartment?'' you coo, and Bucky opens his mouth to answer, but you quickly glare at him to make sure he doesn't answer; instead, he chuckles.

After a while, you rip yourself from the little fur ball and finally move over to Steve and ask him what you were initially here to ask.

''So, as I was saying. Are you free to take a walk-'' you say, but yet again, you're not able to finish your sentence because you're getting interrupted by your phone.

''I can't catch a fucking break today, apparently,'' you sigh before picking up the phone.

''Hello?'' you say in a cheery voice as you pick up the phone; Steve and Bucky are looking at you, wondering what the call is about.

''That's me, yes,'' you say, and you listen to the man on the other side explaining that he saw your job application and he's inviting you for a job interview later this week.

''Thursday works for me. See you then, and thank you for calling me,'' you say before one last goodbye, and you hang up the phone.

''Well, I have good news. I was going to tell you this on a walk at the beach, but since I never had the chance, I might as well tell you now,'' you start, and Bucky sits down, too, as you explain what's happening.

''I applied for a position as Front Desk Supervisor, and I just got a call from who I presume is the owner that I'm invited for a job interview next Thursday!'' you tell them, and the excitement is practically dripping off your face and voice.

''Oh my god, that's so cool! I can't wait to hear how it went,'' Steve said, and you explained a little more about the position, the walk on the beach long forgotten when Alpine climbs into your lap and decides it's the perfect place to take a nap.

Thursday has finally arrived, and you're getting ready for your job interview with your potentially new boss later. You opted for a more summery outfit today, hoping it was still nice enough for the job interview while considering the Florida weather.

You got your black jumpsuit with sunflowers out of your closet, ready to steam it and put it on before you go out the door. But first, you're doing your hair and makeup.

You're staying in the sunflower vibe with a yellow-eye look, keeping the rest of your makeup natural. Your hair is put into two low-space buns, and when that's done, you're finally ready to step into your jumpsuit.

You're going for a pair of black strappy heels and sunglasses to finish the look. After one more look in the mirror, you approve of the look, and you load your laptop and other documents you need to bring into your bag, ready to go.

It's a short walk to the Resort, and you're glad the interview will be held there because you've always been curious about what it looks like inside.

There's a woman at the front desk already, and you assume she's there to greet and welcome all the people there for job interviews, so you go to her.

''Uhm, hi. I'm here for a job interview with Mr. Levinson at 2 p.m.'' You tell the lady, and she gladly shows you the waiting room by his office, and you will be called in when he's ready.

You grab your documents out of your bag and read them over again, trying to prepare yourself as much as possible in the last minutes you have.

''Ms. Y/L/N?'' the man says, and you look up to see a tall man with very broad shoulders and a narrow waist, thighs that make his pants look like they're about to burst, and long legs that end in a pair of black loafers.

His shirt is tight around his chest, and his sleeves are rolled up, exposing the tattoos littered on his arms, giving him a rugged look. His hair is relatively long and curling at the base, making him look like a sculpture on his legs.

It's his voice, however, that completely takes you by surprise because, even though it is deep, it also has a tone that drips like honey, making you hang onto his lips with every word.

''Miss? Is everything okay?'' he asks, and you suddenly snap out of your thoughts, immediately feeling embarrassed.

''I- I'm sorry, it's been a while since I've been on a job interview,'' you say as you get up, and your heart beats faster at the sight of him towering over you.

He extends his hand, and you take it, hearing him introduce himself as Ari Levinson, the owner of the Beach Side Resort. He leads you into his office and lets you sit across from him.

''I'm just going to cut right to the case because I've not seen anyone more qualified for this job than you. I have read your motivation, and I can see you're very eager to get to work, and I'd love to have you on my team,'' he says, and your jaw practically drops to the floor.

''I- are you- I mean, are you sure about this? Because I'd love to work for you and the resort, shouldn't we discuss things a little more?'' you ask, unable to keep your excitement contained.

''I'm sure, Sunflower. I want you to work as my new Front Desk Supervisor,'' he says, and your cheeks feel warm at the nickname, realizing he called you that because of your outfit.

''Well, thank you, Mr. Levinson. I promise I won't let you down,'' you say. And with those words, you have officially found a new job with more benefits than you imagined.

#ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson one shot #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson fluff

37 notes · View notes

eaamon · 3 months

Text

Perspective | Part 7

Warning: It has spoilers from manga so don't read it if you aren't caught up. Also, this chapter might be inappropriate for some people and young age group.

Trigger warning: Mention of sexual abuse in this chapter so DNI if it makes you uncomfortable.

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Reader (Female)

Synopsis: Touya has become a hero, fulfilling his father's wish. He wanted Endeavor to be proud of him. Then why is this emptiness chasing him everywhere? Why can't he fit in with everyone else? Is this really what he wanted? All his thoughts and concepts about the hero society are left in chaos when he meets a certain villain.

Note: There is just Fuyumi in this story because Touya has achieved what Endeavor wanted.

Word count: 2.6k

He was walking towards the house he spent all his life in, with clear determination. He didn’t need to ring any bells because he had a spare key to the house. As soon as he walked in, he heard hurried footsteps and Fuyumi’s voice asking, “Oh Father! Did you find anything related to Tou-” but she stopped midway when her eyes met his. They were so wide as she froze in her spot, her hand clutching the shirt in front of her. After the initial surprise, the hurt was clear on her face but she still ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Her grip was tight around him and he could feel his shirt get wet from her tears but he didn’t raise his arms to hug her back. He didn’t want his filth rubbing on her.

The amount of guilt he felt for being the cause of that expression on her face was immense. He never thought it could be enough for his determination to waver but here he was, contemplating the decisions he made in the past two days. It didn’t last long because Endeavor flashed before his mind and all that hatred came back followed closely by the phony hero society. He gritted his teeth and his hands were clenched beside him. He was glaring at the wall in front of him, not realizing that his whole body was shaking from anger. He finally lifted his hands and pushed Fuyumi back gently. He looked down at her with darkened eyes. “I’m leaving.” Before taking her reaction in he decided to walk past her to visit mother before he left.

But Fuyumi had other plans. She grabbed his arm tightly, preventing him from walking away. When did she get this strong? Had she been training? But he pushed those thoughts out of his head. “But why…? Touya, what happened? Everything was going so well. It seemed like we were like a normal family!”. He let out a low chuckle when she said that. “Keyword: Seemed. We never really were and you know that better than anyone else.” With that he pulled himself out of her grip and went to the lounge where he found his mother placing her tea cup down on the table. He heard Fuyumi running after him but stopping at the lounge entrance.

He slowly walked towards his mother but stopped when she spoke. “So, you decided to leave.” Her tone suggested that she was not asking a question. He hummed in return. “Stay safe out there and know that you can always come back here in the future.” She added right after. All he could do in that moment was nod. In the past few years, he realized his mother had been so accepting of everything he did, no matter what Endeavor or anyone else had to say. She was always there, rooting for him. He had misunderstood her in the past but he understood the situation much better now. “I will try.” His voice was low as he started to turn away from her. “Oh, and Touya?” He turned around when she called out his name and saw her head turned to look at him with a sad smile on her face. “I’m sorry. For not doing enough for you.” His head shook before she could finish her sentence but he couldn’t say anything to stop her because it seemed like there was a lump stuck in his throat.

“You’ve done enough. I’m not leaving because of you.” He couldn’t believe he was saying these words just now because Touya in the past would never. All of this, he learnt from Y/N. He let out a shaky breath when her face crossed his mind so he shook his head and saw tears in his mother’s eyes. She had completely turned towards him with her arms wide open, waiting for him to come forward so she could embrace him in a tight hug. He stood there for a while but he finally took small steps forward until his mother’s arm could easily wrap around him. He let out an oomph sound because Fuyumi jumped on to them, putting all her weight on him, crushing him between her and mother. “I’ll miss you, Touya.” Fuyumi finally spoke. All of this seemed so foreign to him but he didn’t hate it. Although the timing just wasn’t right.

He left the house with a heavy heart. Those two managed to waver his determination so much that he was about to quit and stay home but he knew he had to do what he decided to start.

He spent the next few months collecting all the evidence against the hero society. He had to go through private data after infiltrating different buildings to get the CCTV footage. The number of crimes he committed in the past month was probably more than the number of days he had spent in this world. He hadn’t killed any more people since that one accidental murder. He would just stun the people on his missions. He hired a hacker to collect more data as well. It showed him how dirty the hero society actually was. He was so disgusted that he blindly followed his father to be a part of this hero society. That he even burnt his own wings for it. His jaw was clenched as he watched a group of heroes partying on some island drinking and getting high while balls deep in young girls sold to them. It was so hard for him to not just break the laptop. He was censoring the faces of the girls to keep their privacy. All of it seemed like he was watching some movie but it was reality, the ugly truth.

He was nearly done compiling the video which he was planning to broadcast to the whole world. He knew very well that a lot of people would come after him with the intent to kill. He also knew that once the video is out, he won’t be able to go back to his old life. But after watching all those heinous crimes, there was no way he wanted to go back. He could finally see the world through Y/N’s eyes and it was sickening. He wanted to protect her from all that but in order to do that, he needed to stay far away from her because he was about to become the most wanted man in the country.

He put the laptop away after finishing the video and uploading it on a USB. He stood up from his working table after putting the USB in his pocket. He realized in the past month that he couldn’t cook to save his life. The number of times he had to change apartments because of fires was embarrassing. So, he depended on take-outs completely. He realized that everything tasted the same, full of chemicals and dull. His take-out was waiting on the table which he forgot to eat because he was really busy. Today was his deadline and he had a lot of work to finish. He just opened the boxes and started eating the cold meal. He realized it was pointless to heat the food because it would just go down the drain in the end anyway.

After eating half of that repulsive food, he threw it away. He went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. He stopped when he saw his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a complete mess and the white roots had grown out a lot. He really needed to get a haircut and dye his hair but he didn’t know how to and he had no time to go to a hairdresser. There were dark circles under his eyes, making him look like a panda except that he had lost weight. The clothes that fit him perfectly before were loose now. The most prominent difference was the presence of small patches of purple on his skin, including his face due to overusing his quirk.

After a quick shower, he dried himself up and wore his usual white t-shirt with black pants. He saw the sun peeking from the horizon from his window so he wore a black leather jacket which had a silver spiky design popping out of it. He also had a dog tag hanging around his neck. He checked himself out in the full body mirror for his piercings and to see if any of his tattoos were poking out of his clothes. Endeavor hated tattoos and he always wanted to get them but was unable to until he left the house. He walked over to the doorway and put on his combat boots and a black mask to hide his face.

He checked his pocket once to make sure the USB was there and walked out of the apartment. The hacker had given him some dirty secrets related to a news broadcasting company which agreed to post his video after he blackmailed them to show it on their channel without having a look at it.

He needed to be careful about appearing in the public after what happened last month. All the people who once looked at him with admiration looked at him with disgust now. There were a lot of search parties still looking for him. He took a deep breath as he got out of the apartment. He hadn’t gone out in a few days and the fresh air felt good. There weren’t a lot of people outside at this hour, at least not in the sketchy area he lived in. This area was filled with drug addicts and people who either didn’t have a job or were barely making it through the day.

He took the sub-way and waited for his station to arrive. He was staring at his hands which were covered in scars as well. Living among the thorny flowers can end up with small injuries like these. At the back of his mind, Y/N was there fussing over his injuries and taking care of them, telling him to be careful, giving him advice on how to prevent his body from deteriorating from his quirk. He let out a sigh and clenched his shaky hands in to tight fists. His vision was getting blurry so he blinked back the tears. He knew that he won’t ever have what he really wanted because he did not deserve to have her nor was she safe with him around. She was strong enough to survive on her own especially being involved with villains for so many years. He knew that she knew ways to get out of bad situations because she still had her wings. She had made it clear to him as well that she didn’t want to be with him the way he wanted to be with her. He could tell that his end was near. He was blessed with another life eight years ago but he wanted to return it to whatever gods were up there after fulfilling his duty.

He heard the announcement for his stop so he got up and walked out of the subway. The broadcasting company’s building was just five minutes away. There were way more people in this part of city because it was the working-class people who lived around here. He had just taken a few steps when he noticed some unrest. His body was conditioned to pick that up from years of training to become a hero. There were subtle signs you needed to look for. He saw a sudden increase in people speed-walking in a specific direction. It meant the unrest was happening in the opposite direction. Without thinking much of it, he started going in that direction to see what was going on.

What he saw there was not something he expected to find. Before he could stop himself, he ran towards the scene. Y/N was lying in the middle of the road in a pool of blood. He was hoping it was not hers as he activated his quirk and aimed it at the man looming over her. What he did a month ago was repeating itself. All he could see was red as he kept punching this man with his brilliant blue flames covering his fists. “Don’t you fucking dare to lay another finger on her or else you won’t get to see this world again.” He growled out in anger as he stood up and kicked him. He was about to kick him some more when he heard a wet cough coming from behind him causing all his anger to melt. He could finally see again.

His eyes widened as he turned around quickly. He rushed over to her and was on his knees. His hands were trembling as he tried to reach out to her. He didn’t want to touch her in the state she was in. It seemed like if he touched her, she would break. She had a deep wound on her stomach which she was clutching. Her face held a pained expression. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving except the irregular breathing. He finally gathered his courage enough to touch her. He noticed her eyes twitching. “Y/N…” His voice was shaky. He saw her open her eyes slightly. “You are a fucking dumb-ass.” His voice was strained as he was trying to hold his emotions in check while picking her up. “Can’t even climb a fucking cliff without rolling down it.” He spoke as he quickly took her to the nearest hospital. She let out a chuckle and tried saying something but he couldn’t understand. As long as she was speaking, it meant that she was still alive.

The people on the reception were being a total bitch because she was not allowed to get treatment from any hospitals because she was labelled as a villain so she was lying on a bed bleeding to death. It was really hard for him to keep his cool in a situation like this. This was exactly what Y/N always talked about. This difference in treatment of heroes and villains. He gave them a manic smirk as he took his phone out and played a video for them. “You know about this by any chance?” He showed them a clip of a hero bringing in a young girl he had assaulted. All her lab reports were present in the video but they had decided to stay hush hush about it because the hero bribed them with a lot of money.

“You wouldn’t want people finding about this now, would you?” He pulled his phone away from them after taking in their horrified expressions. He saw the receptionist quickly typing and telling another person to go inform the doctor to start the treatment. He quietly walked away from them. The doctors told him that she needed emergency surgery because there was a lot of internal damage and bleeding which required fixing. So now he sat in the waiting area, anxiety-ridden, thinking of all the horrible scenarios.

He realized that she needed to be more careful if she was going to be on her own especially when he won’t be available to protect her. He needed to do something about it before he died. He saw the red light turn off. He felt his stomach doing flips in his stomach. He had his hands clenched tightly in fists beside him causing his knuckles to become white. The door finally opened revealing the doctor so he stood up immediately and closed the distance between them.

9 notes · View notes

lovesosweeet · 5 months

Text

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty eight

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

october 1, 2018 san diego, california orion

I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve seen Calum’s reaction coming. I know him so well that I should have been able to predict how he would react to my confession, but, I guess it was a situation that nobody really knows how they’ll react to until they’re in the moment. The look on his face when I told him… I never want to see that level of anger and disappointment and heartbreak on anyone’s face, ever again.

It felt like a punch to my gut, over and over. It felt like my heart was ripped from my chest when Calum stormed off.

Afterwards, I spend a few minutes sobbing, hyperventilating, and freaking out in my car when he leaves me alone. I know he wants to spend some time on his own, but I feel like I have to at least try to run after him, after I gave him some space to process what I’ve just told him. I collect myself a tiny bit before I run into the venue, finding everyone, except for Calum, in the green room.

They all notice me immediately, and I’m sure the tears running down my face, red cheeks, and ragged breathing made it clear that I’m upset. Luke starts to step toward me, his face full of concern, but Ashton beats him to it, stepping directly in front of Luke to block him.

“O, are you alright?”

I grab his arm and pull him into the corner, away from everyone else as much as possible without going to a different room.

When I try to say something, all that comes out is more crying. I can’t say it. I can’t say that Calum is absolutely livid that I hadn’t told him until now. I can’t say that it felt like he handed me his barely beating heart before he ran away.

Despite the many awful conversations with Ashton telling me I shouldn’t keep my diagnosis a secret, he’s nothing but sympathetic in the wake of my relationship getting absolutely fucked. He wraps his arms around me tightly and rests his head on top of mine, my body shaking as I cry even harder into his shirt.

“You told him, I take it?” He asks.

I sniffle, trying again to be able to say something, but the words get caught in my throat.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. It’s all gonna be okay, alright? You guys will be fine. Just give him a chance to come to terms with everything. It’s a lot to take in, and you know he’s avoidant.” He rubs his hands up and down my back, trying to calm me down, but it just makes it all worse. “He loves you. Nobody can deny it. Love is the most powerful thing in the universe. You guys will be fine.”

I ruined everything. Ashton’s positivity feels toxic rather than comforting.

It takes a few minutes, but I manage to stop sobbing enough to speak.

“I’m gonna go. Give him space. Take care of him, please? And tell everyone I love them and I’m sorry.”

“Wait, Orion, you shouldn’t—”

I don’t bother listening to everything else he has to say. I just run back out to the car. I can hear everyone calling after me, so I act quickly, turning the key in the ignition and reversing, then driving back out of the parking lot the way I came.

While I drive, I blast sad music that I can cry to. I’m probably not supposed to drive while crying as hard as I am, but I don’t really have a choice, already on an interstate. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I stop at a convenience store after I drive for about 15 minutes. I turn off sharing my location with everyone and turn on Do Not Disturb. If Cal needs to be alone, I need to be alone too.

I need to grapple with the immense pain I’ve caused.

Just so people can know I’m alive after leaving the venue, I text Emelia.

To: emi✨ today is… the worst day ever.

As soon as it says it’s delivered, I put my phone in my pocket.

At 7-Eleven, I grab a jumbo bottle of Barefoot Cabernet Sauvignon and a bag of Voodoo potato chips, then get back in the car to head to the beach. The access I go to is in a touristy part of San Diego, but it’s nostalgic for me and reminds me of all the times I came here as a kid with friends. An ounce of comfort in this shitty fucking day.

After parking, I grab my 7-Eleven purchases and the blanket my moms make me keep in my trunk for ‘emergencies’ — I’ve never known what kind of emergency would call for a blanket in Southern California, but I guess, if today counts as one, I’ve determined the kind of emergency. I kick off my socks and shoes, carrying them in the plastic bag they gave me when I bought my wine and chips. Somehow, even in my emotional distress, I made sure the wine was a screw top, so I open it up while I walk down the beach, taking a long glug from the big bottle.

At my happy place on a not too busy day, I feel somewhat at peace with the world, even though I feel like my life is in shambles. I’ve spent so much time alone lately that it’s nice to be alone while surrounded by people. I don’t care if anyone is watching me while I just scarf down an entire bag of chips and nearly chug the entire bottle of wine.

I don’t want to feel anything right now, and being drunk is the best option I have on hand currently.

People watching and wave watching is a dizzying distraction while I sit on my sandy blanket. I don’t get in the water. Not even my feet. I just sit and drink, and, all things considered, it’s kind of nice, in a fucked up way.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been here when my head starts to feel heavy and my eyelids start to droop. Wine, especially combined with being sick with leukemia, has always made me sleepy. I check the time and find that it’s only 2:00, so there’s plenty of time for me to take a nap. I bury my keys in the sand under my blanket so nobody can steal them and shove my wallet into my pocket.

I pull the hood on my sweatshirt up and use the string to close it over my face, finding darkness in the middle of the day.

—

When I wake up, it’s not by choice. There’s someone shaking my shoulder and I can hear several voices close by, at least one of them speaking to me.

“Excuse me, you need to wake up, or we’re calling an ambulance for you,” a deep voice says.

I groan, swatting at my face to open the hood again. “No, I’m up.”

Blinking as I adjust to the sunlight, it can’t be too late, since the sun is still up. There’s a police officer leaning over me who looks slightly concerned, but mostly annoyed.

“Time to go home, kiddo, before we charge you with public intoxication. You can’t just get drunk and pass out on a beach on a Monday.”

Shit.

I sit up as quickly as I can, feeling dizzy from the wine that’s still running through me.

“Do you have someone you can call, or do we need to call you an Uber?”

“I’ll call someone,” I hear myself saying. I grab my phone from my pocket and hold it up closer to my face. “Hey Siri, call Irwie.”

“OK, calling Irwie now,” Siri says, and I press the phone to my ear.

It doesn’t even complete a full ring before Ashton answers. “Orion? Orion, are you okay? Everyone is—”

“If I drop you a pin, can you come get me?”

“What do—yeah, sure, yeah, I can come get you. Where are you?”

“I’m at the beach,” I slur sleepily, looking up at the police officer with one eye shut. The sun feels too bright.

“Are you drunk!?” He asks.

“Maybe…”

“Jesus Christ, Orion. Yeah, sure, drop a pin. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Wait! Ashton,” I nearly scream, trying to catch him before he hangs up.

“What?”

“Please… please don’t bring Cal.”

He sighs. “I’ll see you soon.” Then he hangs up.

“Is someone coming?” The police officer asks. I realize he’s one of two, the other standing a few feet behind him.

“Yeah, my friend said he’ll be here soon.”

The officers exchange glances. “We’ll be back in an hour. If you’re still here, you’ll be riding in the back of our car instead. Got it?”

My eyes widen. “Yes, sir. I’ll be gone, I promise.”

I gather my things up and put them into my 7-Eleven bag before standing up. While I walk toward my car, I drop a pin for Ashton. I have about a million notifications of phone calls and text messages. I don’t want to read anything from Calum or the band, or even my family. I just check the thread with Emelia.

From: emi✨ what happened ?????? you told him??? i assume? hello? pick up the phone orion bro literally everyone is freaking the fuck out your mom just called orion i get that you’re trying to be alone but we’re all so worried can you just tell someone if you’re alive and okay? orion, it’s been five hours i’m on my way down to SD right now. your moms are so scared and cal is a wreck

Her last text was just over an hour ago, so if she really is driving down, she’s still in the car. I call her instantly. Just like with Ashton, it doesn’t even finish a full ring before she answers.

“BITCH,” she starts, and I have to hold my phone away from my ear for a second because of how loud she is. “DON’T YOU EVER DO THIS SHIT AGAIN!”

I wince, unsure if she’s going to continue or if it’s safe to speak.

“Where the fuck are you!?” Yep, she continues.

I sigh, sitting down on the hood of my car. “I’m at the beach.”

“Why haven’t you been answering literally anyone!? Orion, do you understand how many people are upset right now? Because it’s literally so many people.”

I let the alcohol talk next, and I regret the words that come out of my mouth the moment I say them.

“Just a preview of what’s inevitable. I’m fucking dying, in case you forgot. Get used to me not answering my fucking phone.”

Emelia gasps, and the tears start forming in my eyes again. I shouldn’t have said it. I know I shouldn’t have. It’s a low blow, especially for someone who so clearly just cares about me and wants me to be okay. I feel worse than I already do.

“Em, I’m—I’m sorry,” I choke out, falling back into a state of sobbing. “I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, I feel so bad. I’m sorry. I just—I’m at the beach. I’m drunk. I fell asleep. I just woke up. Ash is on his way to me. You can go home if you want.”

She takes a big breath before she speaks again. “I’m headed to your moms’ house. I’ll see you there. Everyone is there now.” Then she hangs up on me, and I can’t even pretend like I blame her for it.

“Fuck,” I say to no one but myself.

Roughly thirty minutes after my call with Emelia, a black van pulls up next to my car. Ashton is in the passenger seat, and Matt is in the driver’s. They say something to each other that I can’t hear before Ashton throws his door open and walks up to me.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He hugs me before I can even say anything.

I laugh. It’s a bitter, short laugh. “No.”

He hugs me tighter, and I break down again.

Ashton drives my car to my moms’ house while Matt drives the van back to the venue. The drive ends up taking over an hour because there’s an accident on the way, and I’m grateful that he just plays a podcast for the whole time so we don’t have to talk.

Calum always jokes that I can’t stand silence so I always make up dumb stories to tell people just to make sure that there isn’t any dead air. I never make them up, he just tends to find them so random. I do hate silence, and I’d rather talk to people than not, so making conversation has always been… I wouldn’t say a strong suit, because it’s not always worthwhile conversation, but I guess it’s just easy. It’s easy for me to find random stories to tell from the depths of my brain, especially if it’s someone I’m comfortable with.

Right now, I don’t want to talk, especially not knowing that the whole band and their partners and my family and Emelia will be at the house when we get there.

We pull in right as Emelia is getting out of her car.

“Hey guys,” she says without enthusiasm as Ashton and I get out of my Civic.

I start crying again, and it feels stupid, but thankfully, she doesn’t care. Emelia welcomes me with open arms and hugs me to her chest.

“I’m sorry and I love you,” I whisper to her.

“I love you, and it’s okay.”

I nod against her.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” she says. She steps back from me, her hands sitting on my arms as she looks at me. “Everyone is waiting.”

I don’t want to, but I know I don’t have a choice. Em walks in front of me and Ash walks next to me, with his hand on my back between my shoulder blades. As we’re walking up to the door, Calum bursts through it and runs to us. Surely he was watching Ashton's location get closer and closer to the house.

Emelia steps out of the way and gives Cal a clear path to throw his arms around me and squeeze me against his chest. I cry into his shirt while he holds me, and I’m transported back in time to our goodbye at the airport two months ago. The deja vu makes me cry harder.

“I’m sorry I ran," he apologizes, although I feel like it's unwarranted. I did a fucked up thing. "I love you, and I trust you and your judgment and I know you did things in a way that made sense to you."

I shake my head as well as I can within his embrace which almost swallows me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I fucked up. I know I did. I’m sorry. I feel like shit.”

“Let’s talk about it later.”

I nod. Dropping it for the moment feels best, considering practically everyone we know is here and neither one of us wants an audience for our conversation.

“I know things are shitty, but we’ve got a ton of pizza inside if you’re hungry? Everyone else is in the backyard.”

I peel back from his embrace enough to be able to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I fucked everything up.”

Calum’s eyes are brimmed with tears and I feel awful for causing as much pain as I have. He doesn’t cry a lot, and when he does, it’s always something that makes my heart ache. I feel like the worst person alive to do this to him. He doesn’t deserve this.

“We can talk about it later, okay? Let’s just be together for a little bit. Everyone has been so worried.” He kisses my forehead and takes my hand, tugging me inside with him, Ashton and Emelia following behind.

Inside the house, there are pizza boxes scattered around the kitchen and a few cases of La Croix on the island. Eri is in the living room with Disney Channel playing and Duke is asleep on his lap. My moms walk inside from the backyard as we walk in and they both run up to us, looking an appropriate mix of angry and relieved.

“Never do that again!” Mama says, embracing me quickly. Mom hugs me, too, and then she grabs my other hand that Calum isn’t holding.

“Eat. We’re glad you’re safe. You have an army of concerned friends in the backyard. They will be relieved to see you.”

I just nod, unable to process the right words to say right now. I’ve sobered up over the past hour but the wine brain fog is still lingering, especially given my exhaustion. Emelia hands me a plate with a slice of cheese pizza on it, then she nods her head toward the backyard.

“Come on, let’s go see everyone. I don’t think Luke has stopped crying since you ran off,” Calum says, giving my hand a squeeze.

I don’t get a chance to argue before he leads me outside, everyone’s heads snapping up as the door creaks open. Calum was right. Luke is still crying. How could I do this to all of them? What’s wrong with me? These people don’t deserve this kind of pain. Nobody deserves this.

Luke barrels toward me first, nearly knocking me over with a hug. I feel his body quivering as he shakily breathes and cries into my hair. Calum lets go of my hand and takes my pizza from me so I can hug Luke back. It takes so much self control not to cry again. I just focus on trying to calm Luke down, rubbing small circles into his back.

“I’m so, so sorry, O,” Luke whispers through his quiet sobs.

He’s sorry? Why is he sorry? I’m the one who messed up. “It’s okay, Lu. You didn’t do anything.”

He cried and I feel him shake his head. “I should’ve been there for you.”

“Luke,” I breathe out. “I didn’t want anyone to be there for me. That’s not on you.”

“Luke, give her some space. You’re not the only one who wants to hug her, man!” I hear Michael’s voice. He’s trying to lighten the mood a bit and I appreciate it. He peels Luke away from me and then he embraces me himself. “Glad you’re safe, O.”

“Sorry to scare everyone.”

“We love you so much,” Crystal says, hugging me straight after Michael lets go.

Sierra is next, and then KayKay. After everyone else has had a turn, Luke resumes his hugging and clings to me for another few minutes while everyone else starts talking and eating again. He keeps apologizing to me and it hurts. He sounds so sad. When he finally pulls away, I look up at his red face that’s covered in tears.

I pull my sweatshirt sleeve over my hand and reach up to wipe them away. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

Luke nods, and then Sierra comes up to him and takes him off to calm him down, mouthing a ‘sorry’ to me.

Finally in a place where I can breathe again, I look up and catch Calum staring at me. His eyes have welled up tears and are a muted version of their normal rich brown. I try to smile at him, but I end up having tears start to form in my own eyes for the millionth time today. When one falls from my eyes, he’s quick to reach over and wipe it away.

“I love you,” he says, his voice almost too quiet to hear, full of love and pain and sadness and, possibly most difficult to admit, fear.

“I love you.”

I look down at the pizza he’s holding for me, my stomach starting to make noises, and then I notice the tape wrapped around his knuckles. Ashton is somewhat known for always having his hands taped up with blisters from playing the drums, but not Calum, and the location of the tape wouldn’t be from playing any instrument. It also wasn’t there this morning.

“What happened to your hand?” I ask, taking the pizza from his grasp with one hand and using the other to reach for his bandaged one, pulling it closer to try to inspect.

He chuckles, and I'm grateful to hear a sound close to laughter come from him. “I got in a fight with a wall.”

I look up at him, eyebrows raised, trying to fight a smile. Calum is practically magic. Not even seconds ago I was about to cry, and here he is, flipping my mood like it’s as simple as turning on a light switch. “Elaborate?”

Cal sighs, breaking our eye contact. “I wanted to punch somebody, but I know how you feel about violence, so I punched a wall. Three times.”

My raised eyebrows move to being knit together. Cal isn’t known for being an angry person, much less a violent one. Gentle is the first word I'd use to describe his soul, and kind is the second. Angry isn't even on my list. “Who did you want to punch?”

“Ashton.” He doesn’t even hesitate before he says it. I watch his jaw clench as he looks behind me, presumably to wherever Ashton is standing. He’s angry. He’s furious.

I don’t understand why he would be mad at Ashton but able to look past what I’ve done enough to be consoling me right now. Ashton didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who messed everything up and Ashton got stuck in the crosshairs. He was just trying to be a good friend to me and he made his opinions very known—he didn’t agree with what I was doing but respected that it was my choice to make, not his. Does Calum not see that?

“Cal, don’t be upset with—“

His eyes snap back down to me, anger still firing in his irises. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

His fury silences me and I decide it’s probably best to listen to him. I don’t want to fight with him in front of all these people, but I know I need to talk to him about this soon. Ashton and Calum call each other soulmates. I don’t want to be the reason there’s a rift between them. I want to talk about it now and clear the air, but if Calum says he doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s by far the better choice to leave it alone.

“Okay,” I say, my voice small.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Calum promises. “Right now I just want to be with you, okay?”

I nod, even though everything I have wanted to say all day is gnawing at my stomach, clawing at my throat, and filling the entirety of my mouth. I need to talk about all of this; after sitting on it for over two months, I need to get everything off my chest. But, knowing Calum, I know that if he doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s useless to try to talk about it, so even though I’m dying to talk about the issue at hand, I have to swallow the words and try not to choke on them.

“Can we go sit down? I’m so tired.”

Calum nods, wrapping an arm around me and guiding me over to the outdoor living room situation my moms have set up, sitting down on the couch that’s covered in Duke’s hair from him being out here all day. KayKay and Emelia are sitting on chairs across from us, deep in their own conversation. I think Em is telling her about a project she did in her photography class and KayKay is looking through the final images on her phone. I'm glad they can talk about something normal in the midst of all this.

I slowly take bites of my cheese pizza, but each mouthful sticks on its way down my throat and make it far less appetizing.

“Need anything?” Calum asks, taking note of my silence and slow eating.

“No, just don’t have much of an appetite these days.”

It’s nice to be back with everyone, and I don’t want to act like it isn’t, but this all feels wrong. Ashton and Calum aren’t speaking. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells in my own head, trying not to trigger any conversations that I can’t have yet and narrowly avoiding crying yet again. Calum is being attentive, smoothing my hair for me while I talk and always having his hand on me somewhere, whether resting on my knee, wrapped around my waist, or intertwined with mine. All I can picture is the look on his face when I told him I have leukemia and the way it felt to practically watch his heart stop beating.

One day, he’s actually going to have to watch as my heart stops beating, and the thought alone makes me hate myself even more than I already do.

read next chapter

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #fanfiction #ashton irwin #fanfic #5sosfam #imagine #calum x fem!oc #calum x ofc #calum x oc #calum 5sos #calum imagine #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum hood fluff #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic

11 notes · View notes

alagaesia-headcanons · 6 months

Note

Hi! I just wanted to say it's been really cool to see the amount of effort and thought you're putting into Clear Horizons. In response to your recent post looking for inspiration, I thought up a couple of prompt ideas (possibly loose outlines - sorry if this is the wrong level of detail) for short fics with Murtagh and Orrin that I'm happy to share. I'm not sure that they're drabble length, but still, I hope these can be useful to you.

1. It might be fun to see the two of them have a conversation where they trade stories related to their interests. I'm picturing something like "I was investigating [sparsely documented scientific process] and while my experiments were successful it turned out way different from what I'd hoped" "wow that's wild I was investigating [obscure magical rumor/curse somewhere in the countryside] and while I solved the mystery things turned out way different from what I'd expected", but obviously you can play it however you like.

2. I personally hc that Murtagh really loves camping. I also suspect that Orrin doesn't have much experience camping, at least not so far off the beaten path without servants or knights for support. I think it would be cool to see a conversation from their first time out camping together - it could be fun to explore the reasons behind the camping trip, or how they reconcile their differing levels of experience, or the trust required to rest well all alone in the wild, or what it's like to be away from prying eyes for a bit, or the different things they associate with the activity of camping, or anything else you might find interesting about the situation.

No worries if neither of these speak to you, but hopefully this helps! Feel free to shoot me a message about it if you'd like. Best of luck to you. :)

Thank you so much for the lovely encouragement and the lovely prompts!! I've written for the first one here! The second one actually feels perfect for an idea I have near the end of Clear Horizons, so I may use it as inspiration for that 👀...

(All this writing has been an interesting look at the kinds of world building details I never would have thought about that I end up needing to decide. This time, I've decided the other planets in their solar system are all named after gems~)

The peace of the empty room is almost jarring after the long, crowded feast. “Now that we have a quiet moment to ourselves...” Murtagh drifts over to his bag. He deliberately waited for just such an opportunity to have Orrin’s full attention and also an unobstructed view of his reaction. “I have something for you.”

Orrin makes a grieved little noise, insisting, “Murtagh! You didn’t need to do anything like that; it’s too much. Having you here is a gift in itself.”

“Well, thank you,” Murtagh replies, pleased. “But! You’re wrong- It is imperative that I give you the best present that you’ll love so much, everyone else’s will pale in comparison.”

“Ahh, so it’s part of your peacocking.”

“Yes. Don’t peek!” Orrin holds his hands up and sits back in his chair. “That’s cheating.” Diligently keeping his back to Orrin so that he can’t see, he leans down and extracts a carefully wrapped up bundle from his pack. Hefting it up in his arms, he wrangles away the thick cloth protecting the large, leather bound book beneath. Sidling closer to Orrin under his curious gaze, Murtagh finally turns and hums blithely while he slides the book from his arms onto the table.

The moment the title comes fully into view, Orrin slaps a hand over the cover. “Holge’s Treatise on Natural Phenomena?!” Murtagh straightens up as he deposits the book and preens- just a little. “You can’t be serious-! I’d all but given up hope of learning of a copy, much less owning... When was this penned?” With immense eagerness measured by the caution of someone who both reveres books and handles rare texts on the regular, he thumbs through the introduction. “Where in the world did you get this?” he gasps in awe as he turns to the first chapter.

“In Ceunon,” Murtagh answers, but then pauses without elaborating. As he expected, Orrin’s eyes have zeroed in on the page, scanning it rapidly, and he won’t hear a thing he says until his focus relents again. Smiling softly, Murtagh waits patiently as he reads, silently counting out the beats of time.

Predictably, when he reaches forty, Orrin stirs and then says, “...Ceunon? Not Ilirea?”

“I didn’t look in Ilirea. It’s possible there’s a copy in the old citadel, but I’m not so sure. Besides, it’s your birthday: that deserves thought and effort. I wasn’t going to settle for the easy pickings by just rummaging around in there and swiping whatever seemed suitable.” Then Murtagh pauses and tilts his head.

“Just don’t ask how I got the money to-”

“So where’d you find money for such-”

Both cutting off simultaneously, Murtagh glowers at Orrin’s warm laugh. He sniffs primly and declares, “Someone might as well put Galbatorix’s hoarded wealth to good use, considering that he never did.” Orrin’s sound of agreement still wavers with a hint of laughter and Murtagh rolls his eyes fondly. “And it’s not as though that made it any easier to find the book. A librarian in Narda tipped me off, then when I searched out the collector I was directed to, I learned he didn’t actually have it, so he eventually told me who he thought should- then repeat that about five times over. Then I spent no less than three hours vowing to treat the book better than my first born child to convince the man to take my money once I finally found it.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” He flips to a page filled with equations. “Because it’s so specialized, it requires an expert to make a verifiably accurate copy, so very few exist. I still can barely believe it...”

“I hope it is accurate. I’m certainly not smart enough to know. Although I did read the chapter on astronomy while I travelled.”

“Astronomy?” he echoes in surprise. “I didn’t know he wrote about that. I’ve only heard him mentioned for his study of elements in nature.”

Nodding towards the book, Murtagh says, “The bulk of it seems to be about that. Hopefully that holds up better than his foray into astronomy.” Orrin glances at him and Murtagh confesses, “I thought most of it was bullshit.”

“Oh?” He rests the edge of his jaw in his palm.

Murtagh shrugs. “Well, I’ve spent a lot of time a lot closer to the stars than almost anyone else can reach, and I’ve inevitably noticed things.”

Orrin grins. “I’m not sure proximity determines your authority on astronomy.”

“It makes a difference though! You don’t realize just how much more I can see up there. Looking the other way is the most obvious proof of it. The sky can look perfectly clear, but once we’re up high enough, the ground below looks hazy and blurred and veiled. All of that is in the way of the heavens when you’re on the ground.” Orrin shifts his chair so he can lean in towards Murtagh, distractedly trying to find the chapter in question. “I don’t believe his argument about the moon and its implications about the arrangement of orbits. He assumes too much- other planets do have moons. I’ve seen them!”

Orrin abandons the book and latches onto that with full fascination.

“Thorn is best at tracking all the stars and planets; he always knows where the Opal is. They can’t be seen from the ground, but with a spyglass up there, I can see two moons around it. First, I figured they might be distant stars, but I know they’re moons.”

“Because they move?” Orrin infers, excitement in his breath.

“Exactly! They’re sometimes on one side, then on the other, or they’re out of sight, entirely behind the planet. But I’ve never seen them move away.”

“That must be beautiful...” Orrin muses longingly.

Even with the spyglass, the planet and its moons are mere pinpricks of light, and yet Murtagh knows what he means. “It is.” He hopes to show him one day.

At last, Orrin turns to a page with several planetary diagrams and he hums appraisingly. “You know, there are theories that the alignment of the planets are partially responsible for Eoam’s Floating Crystal.” Murtagh purses his lips skeptically. “Your mark against these kinds of models-” he runs a finger down the page- “actually supports that idea, I’d say.”

“Really? But that’s magic,” Murtagh counters. “I have a hard time believing the heavens have any hand in it.”

“True, but it’s a rare case where the magic itself is a natural phenomenon. I felt quite the same way, honestly, until the Southern Islands were added to Surda’s territory and I had the chance to visit myself. I found first hand records of how the Crystal’s behavior changed with time, with the days and nights, and also through the seasons. Once I was there, close enough to see it myself, I noticed how it consistently responded to the tides, even. I never would have realized if I couldn’t go.”

“Hmm, so it seems like the proximity helped you understand?”

He links his hands behind Murtagh’s waist. “Alright, alright, you win,” he surrenders readily. “Yes, I’ve taken those theories much more seriously since then. And these other models are the most common counter argument. For my own amusement, I tried applying those old records to the proposed equations to calculate when the next transit of the Ruby will be. But alas, I still have to wait another...” he tilts his head and stares up towards the ceiling- “twenty seven years to know if I was right.”

“You always are- I’ll clear my schedule.” Orrin laughs.

Murtagh sways restlessly as the pause extends itself, then abandons subtlety to prompt, “So you like it?”

Orrin meets his eye with a little, incredulous scoff, so utterly fond. “Dear, I adore it. It’s absolutely incredible.” His hands fidget with his tunic. Quietly, “It’s kind of staggering; you didn’t have to go to so much trouble for me.”

Murtagh shakes his head. “I wanted to give something you’d truly love... because I love your love.” Orrin’s exhale shivers as he pulls him into a kiss.

#eragon #inheritance cycle #murtagh #murtagh morzansson #orrin #my writing #murtagh x orrin #mxo #i am Obsessed with them being domestic #these nerds are everything #orrin deserves some love on his birthday and goddamn it murtagh will make sure he gets it!!!#(i was such a fool thinking i could keep these under 1k)

13 notes · View notes

oceansatedogs · 1 year

Note

asaden thoughts? 🙏

asaden thoughts... hm maybe i should answer this ask when my brain's actually not totally crappy but i'll give it a shot. big disclaimer, i'm not the sharpest tool in the shed

but

i like them a lot as they are right now, and i also like them for what they could be. i'm really into how asa parallels makima but Wrong, and how denji actually is shown to be a lot more aware of how people treat him & how he navigates relationships now

and i like that asa as a character has so much going on to her - she's a huge asshole who thinks she's better than everyone else, but she also feels like the fucking worst. in a way, she puts herself on a pedestal in a way that alienates her just like makima. except of course, the reasons they're standing on their respective pedestals is but a difference in how they frame how different they are from other people

that being said, i bring up makima because in part 1, she and denji's dynamic were a huge thing. we see denji still struggling with the remnants of his trauma re: makima; like, for example in the latest chapter, he questions if the way people treat him has something to do with him

but something i'd really want for asaden, even if they ended up just being platonic, is to make these makima vs asa parellels mean something - something good for denji's character development

with asa, i want to see him say "no" more. i want him to see the fuckin penguins and for asa to try and compromise instead. and most importantly i want him to know, if the truth ever came out about the whole "yoruasa possession thing", that at least asa saw some loser named denji and not chainsaw man

and that's another thing i like about asaden! asa is like, pretty much the first girl to not be after his chainsaw heart. which is. very sad because the bar is 6ft below the ground. but i am glad she actually sees him. i mean, also literally too re: when she saw him amongst the crowd from up a balcony(?) when she was considering who to turn into a weapon

i just want them to take it as slow as they possibly can within the bounds of a fujimoto story and see where it goes

i think asa could come to really care about denji. it's clear she likes him a lot (which is hilarious because instead of denji, it's HER who fell in love easily). and it's funny how she tries so hard to hate him when in reality, she knows he's genuinely a good person at heart. and looking at him probably makes her feel worse about herself. because who's really "between cat and human", her or denji?

but she keeps pushing him away because she 1) is generally afraid of letting people get too close it seems and 2) doesn't want another person to get hurt because of her

can you imagine? if she managed to turn him into a weapon? the one girl denji really believed could love him the way he always wanted, was just using him the whole time? the guilt would be immense

and what about asa? i mean like, i don't wanna get my hopes up. but i think denji could really show her a good time. he could be really good for someone like her - they're both losers who could really understand one another, and neither of them have that many friends

yeah, i like asaden. my thoughts on it are all over the place but at the end of the day i just want them to kiss. and i mean i want asa to kiss denji, not yoru lol. though asa is probably screaming, shitting, crying, etc rn

#asks #asaden tag

47 notes · View notes

celestemagnoliathewriter · 9 months

Text

Fic Author Self Rec

When you get this, reply with your 5 favourite fics that you've written. Then pass it on to five other writers. Spread some self love.

Thanks for the tag @artemisia-black! Let's gooooo.

1. Moonlit Marriage

I've gotten so much positive feedback on this one. I am humbled by all your kind words, especially with how slow the updates have been. Moonlit Marriage has been a struggle to write at times, but I've enjoyed it immensely, and I'm happy so many of you enjoy it too. This is one of my favorite passages from it so far:

Remus couldn’t have this conversation like this, lying on his side while she looked down on him. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, knowing there was little to lose. They were married; any admission of his feelings would earn her disgust or disdain, but she couldn’t leave him. He had trapped her, completely and shamefully, and this would be the coup d’état, the final offense of being tied to a werewolf. She would see him for what he truly was: a lecherous, selfish beast.

2. All That Remains

This medium-length fic was so much fun to write! I don't usually get to write a character like Regulus. It was tremendously enjoyable to write this shithead and his exceedingly misguided actions. I even made all the chapter titles in French to make it extra pretentious, just like Regulus would want! A favorite passage below:

“Someone will explain why the elf is cradling an infant—immediately.”

Walburga took the letter from Regulus and shoved it into Orion’s hands. He scanned it quickly and scoffed.

“This is absurd. Get rid of it.” With a clap, he summoned Kreacher. At the elf’s appearance, Orion began ordering him to get rid of the child, but Kreacher appeared to be struggling.

“Father! Kreacher!” Regulus shouted. “Enough! There is a way to know if she’s mine—”

“—even if that child were yours, it has no place here,” Orion said, sneering. “You have an illegitimate child and you didn’t have the decency to make it a son, who would be a passable heir.”

For once, Regulus didn’t want to play by the rules. He had a daughter, a pureblood witch, and she was waiting for him.

“I need to see her.”

3. Real, Real Love

This is a shorter fic I wrote for a wedding fest. It was originally going to be for Remadora, but when I started typing, Tedromeda came out. Specifically, Ted Tonks came out, one of the sweetest characters I've ever written. Ted Tonks is a precious cinnamon bun and I will protect him with my life. Here's another snippet I loved:

She wrote her name in an elegant script, using a pen with emerald ink. Her almost childlike joy made his face hurt from smiling.

“They’re so easy to use—”

“—what have I been saying this whole time?” he said, chuckling. He set his rucksack down and pulled out their Charms textbook. “These quills are ridiculous.”

Andromeda stopped writing for a moment and peered at him, her lips slightly parted.

“Your voice got deeper.” Ted felt himself flush. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. She cleared her throat and pulled out her text as well. “Shall we begin with revising the theory of cleaning charms?” she said lightly. “Professor Flitwick said it’s been on the N.E.W.T.s for three years in a row.”

Ted didn’t know why her voice sounded funny or why she was blushing so hard, but he found it enchanting and struggled to keep his gaze away from her.

4. Cariad

Cariad, my big baby. My gigantic, Remadora survive AU that hasn't been updated in months. I miss you. I want to keep writing you. I have more to say. I sometimes wish I stopped around chapter 50 but I want to keep going. I'll finish you when I can. Anyway, here's a passage that I adored writing:

“Dinner!” he blurted at Tonks, startling her. “Let me take you to dinner!”

“What?”

Her nose was pink and puffy. She lifted her hand to tuck limp strands of orange and brown hair away from her blotchy cheeks.

“Dinner,” Remus repeated, formulating an idea. “Once a week…no kids. I want to take you to dinner.”

She stared at him, openmouthed and confused, for a moment.

“Why? Is this – are you trying to get me to take you back?”

“No. I want to start from the beginning,” Remus said, moving toward her. “We never did this right – I never did this right. I want to start over and do it right this time.”

“Remus,” Tonks sighed, shaking her head. “We’ve done this before—”

“We can take our rings off,” he pressed. “We can live apart again and share custody of the children. But please, let me take you out to dinner and do this the right way. Please, Tonks.” Remus took his wedding ring off and handed it to her with a trembling hand.

“Please,” he repeated softly. “Let me do it right this time.”

5. The Nymph of House Black

I love time travel fics. But do you know how HARD it is to find time travel fics with canon couples??? It's always fanon couples! I wanted my darling OTP together, and I wanted time travel, therefore, this happened, and I LOVED writing it. This will always remain one of my all-time favorites. Here's one of my most treasured passages:

“You hate me, Remus. I could see it in your mind.”

“No, Dora, I—”

“—maybe we’ve broken each other’s hearts one too many times,” Dora said softly. “You’ve moved on. I should too, shouldn’t I?”

“Dora, no—”

“—It’s fine,” Dora said, her voice straining, and her mind filled with static. “I’m not going to hurt either of you. I’ll move on. You already have.”

“But—”

“Silencio,” Dora murmured, cutting off Remus’ voice. “It’s too hard to keep doing this, Remus. I’ve hurt you too much. It’s time to let you go.”

Remus’ eyes were welling with tears, and Dora could see him struggling against the Silencing Charm she’d placed on him.

“I’ll give your wand to Fenrir for him to return it to you. I’m sorry our timing never worked,” she whispered. “Just know – everything I did, it was all for you. I’ll always love you, Remus.”

Okay, that's plenty of gushing for now! I'll tag @thecasualauthor18, @midnightstargazer, @merlins-sequined-hotpants, @messrmoonyy and @annabtg

#remadora #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #tag game #regulus black #tedromeda #ted tonks #andromeda tonks

15 notes · View notes

babyrubysoho-maiden · 1 year

Note

Thanks for all your hard work!

I also wanted to say... I'm very confused. If you could answer some questions for me I would be very grateful:

How many volumes/chapters are there?

Did the author rewrite/draw the first few volumes?

Is it still on hiatus? Are there any new volumes coming out?

I can never find any information online about this! I'm very new to the series, and I'll read things online thinking I've caught up, but then I'll find new chapters that I've never read/can't find anywhere... Thanks for you help!

Ahaha, I'm not surprised you need some clarification, if you don't follow all the updates closely or are new to the fandom, this series can be immensely confusing!

In terms of linear magazine chapters we're up to 36 right now. However, when MR switched magazines from Aqua to ihr HertZ they started again from Ch1. So in HertZ numbering the latest chapter is 11. (I write both numbers on my scanlations to hopefully make it clear!)

Currently 3 volumes have been released, with Vol.4 hopefully coming out this spring and Vol.5 (maybe?!) later this year.

Yes, the old Vol.1 & 2 (which were the only vols we had for yearrrrs) have been republished with brushed-up artwork, new covers, and an additional opening scene for new Vol.1 (check my master scanalation list, you can find the scene there).

This month we got our first new chapter since 2021! So it's officially off hiatus. (See no.2 for new volume info 😊)

I can tell you that every chapter published up to now, as well as Vol.3, is uploaded on this tumblr as a scanlation. Also all the doujinshi, which I really recommend reading too, because they contain so much backstory! So if you check my master post and scanlation list you'll be able to access everything that's been published! (Except the re-release Vol.1 & 2 because they have the same content as the old Vol.1 & 2 and I haven't got round to scanlating them yet. But the new opening to Vol.1 is uploaded!)

I hope this helps! If you have any more questions about timeline etc. (which is suuuuper confusing because she doesn't tell the story chronologically), just ask! I or any of our veteran fans will be happy to explain 🥰

25 notes · View notes

familyofpaladins · 6 months

Text

The Pizza Game (Chp 4)

Chapter 4: Mikey Orders a Pizza

Chapter 1 | <Chapter 3 | X | Chapter 5>

Ao3 link

Summary:

Mikey opens a time gateway. (But not the gateway you're thinking of) words: 3423

Notes:

Bit of a time skip from the last chapter! We are still in Angstville. :3 I rewrote sections of this chapter like 3 times, so I hope the final result is okay

Michelangelo sat in the Middle of his room, books and scrolls surrounding him.

I can do this. I can do this. He repeated to himself as he took a steadying breath. (He ignored his trembling hands).

For all the years and scrolls and books he had searched for and researched, creating a Time Gateway wasn’t actually that complicated.

But years it had taken.

---

Mikey had demanded that Draxum help him find the time scepter or relics. Draxum had refused, but only because he knew that the items Michelangelo wanted no longer existed, if they ever did in the first place.

Then Mikey begged Draxum to help him look for it anyway or for any way to get his brother back. It was in the wake of Raphael’s death, and his determination was the most alive Mikey had looked in months. He needed to find some possible way to fix things. That was when Draxum caved and agreed to help him find a way to create a Time Gateway.

Draxum only knew about the theory of them in general, he could not perform the ritual himself. But he knew they were risky and usually required multiple masters to have enough power to perform one.

Mikey didn’t let any of that deter him.

Mikey was then told of where they could possibly obtain the knowledge necessary to learn how to make a time gateway. Draxum and Mikey told everyone that they were going to complete Michelangelo’s mystic training to become a master. That was true, it was one of the reasons that Draxum agreed to the search, that in doing so they would also finish his mystic training at the remaining strongholds of Mystic Teachings.

And then they had left. Over the next two years Michelangelo and Draxum found the texts to learn how to make a time gateway together, though Draxum was still wary of it, claiming the process to be very risky, both for the casters, and for time itself.

However, on the journey they found something else.

They had found that the empyrean had actually been created by the Krang’s arrival centuries ago. They found a way to mystically reverse engineer it to push back the Krang.

They had made headway over the next couple of years in the fight against the krang and gained land and resources. With the war finally turning in their favor, Mikey had other things to focus on and his plans for the time gateway were pushed to the side, even though his grief had dulled but never disappeared.

And then the krang found a way to negate the mystic attacks. The war had stalled for another 2 years, and they lost Baron Draxum during that time.

Then the krang found a way to turn the mystic attack against them, and they scrambled to hold their ground.

And then Michelangelo lost another brother, and gained a new reason to try for a time gateway.

---

According to everything he read on the matter, the only things needed to create a Gateway was: Focus and Conviction set on a clear point in time of when you wanted the gateway to open to, and an immense amount of energy to tunnel through the stream of time.

(That last part was what Barry had been worried about the most. It’ll be fine, don’t think about it.)

And okay. It was a little more complicated than just thinking about When you wanted the gateway to open. There was a lot that had to deal with sensing the flow of time, and following it back (or forward but that was more complicated) and staying connected within your own timeline and not fracturing it and possibly destroying your own time line in the process before even getting there.

Draxum had worried over that too, saying the gateway wasn’t worth the risk. But he wasn’t here to stop him, Mikey thought bitterly. Neither was his most overprotective brother. Nor the brother who had the most to say about the possibilities of time travel.

That was why Mikey had to practice now, get used to the flow of linear time, and how to reach back in it. Reach back, open a gate, and pull something (some One) Back.

He couldn’t worry about the possibility of only being able to do it once. He had to be able to do it twice. So this first attempt was just practicing. If he messed it up, he didn’t want to get stuck in a time loop of his brother dying. (Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. Focus.)

He had to focus on something else. Some other time. Some other time with something he could put enough conviction in to focus on…

Well. They certainly had joked about it enough.

Mikey was going to order a pizza.

He raised his hands. Moved them in the specific pattern the scrolls said to. Felt the flow of time around him, focused on When he was wanting to go, and Reached.

It was a weird feeling. Cold rushed past him, but there was a warm chord of time he was following that connected to when he wanted to go. Trying to expand the cord into a tunnel felt like standing at the bottom of a waterfall and trying to swim upwards.

He pulled a little more from the well of mystic energy he had inside to push forward (backward? FOCUS).

He could do this. He had to do this.

He needed his brothers back.

He had to be able to do this. Just a little more.

A little more.

Come on, come on!

He could feel the push and pull of the time stream.

“Mikey?”

He just had to keep pushing, put just a little more energy into it-

“Mikey?!”

Focus. He had to focus. This couldn’t work if he was distracted.

“What are you doing?! Mikey stop!” The pleas of his (last remaining) brother were ignored. He had to FOCUS-

“Michelangelo! STOP!” The cold (hot? It felt like they were burning) hands that shook his shoulders sent him out of the timestream, faster than he had entered it. He gasped like he’d actually been holding his breath. In the dying light of the orange gateway, that had been about the size of a quarter (that was all the bigger it had gotten?) he saw Leonardo’s concerned and slightly panicked face.

Michelangelo glared at him.

“Why did you do that?! Why did you stop me?! I was So Close!” he growled. (It was a lie)

“So close to what? Mikey, what were you even doing?! Do you see what it did to you?”

“I was-“ He cut himself off. How could he explain this? “I’m fine!”

“Michelangelo. No you’re not.” Leo gently took Mikey’s hands, and he looked down at them.

There were cracks that covered his hands and spread up to his elbows. They were bleeding ever so slightly. Well, Shit. That hadn’t ever happened before. He hadn’t noticed it at all before, but now he could feel the pain seeping into his limbs.

“Oh…. Ow.”

“Yeah ‘ow’” Leo sighed. “Sit on the bed, big man.” Leo said as he guided Mikey into sitting.

Mikey stared at his hands. Was this what Draxum had been so worried about? Pulling from the source of his mystic energy, his ninpo, and using too much it was actually pulling him apart too?

“Let me see your hands” Leo said, kneeling in front of him, holding bandages and other medical supplies. When had he stepped away to grab them? Mikey rested his hands on his brother’s metal one (Mikey had been on his journey when Leo lost the real one. He tried not to feel guilty about not being there). The movement stretched the cracks and he winced.

He couldn’t help but think how 20 years ago he might have asked for some pain relief, but it was a rare commodity now, only used in extreme cases, and this was far from the worst pain he’d ever muscled through.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Leo wiped the blood away, and applied a very thin amount of antiseptic to the cracks.

“So you gonna tell me what you were doing, that caused this?” Leo asked conversationally as he began to wrap his hands. Leo was looking at the wrappings, but Mikey still avoided his brother’s face and looked around the room. It looked like a whirlwind had swept through and threw all his books and belongings every which way. He remembered the feeling of cold sweeping past him and wondered if maybe a whirlwind HAD swept through.

His brother was still looking at the bandages he was wrapping around his arms, giving him space, but Mikey knew he was still waiting on an answer. Where to start?

“I was…” Mikey chuckled wetly, “I was trying to order a pizza.” His voiced cracked on the last word.

Leo turned his head at that, eyebrow raised in confusion, but the corner of his mouth was twitching at the remark. “You were… ordering a pizza?”

“In a way…” Mikey chuckled before sighing.

Leonardo was done with the bandages and sat on the bed, shoulder to shoulder with his brother. Mikey leaned into him. 35(34?) years old, and he still leaned on his older brother.

“Do you remember that one time we were talking about pizza?”

“Gonna have to be more specific there, Miguel.” Mikey butted his head against the shoulder he was leaning on.

“When we were talking about summoning pizzas?”

“Haha, yeah I remember that! And old Barry said you’d need a dimension filled with pizza for it to work? Don’t tell me you found a pizza dimension” Leo chuckled.

“No, no pizza dimension, sorry,” Mikey hummed.

“Darn.”

Mikey fiddled with the edge of his bandages before he spoke again.

“And do you remember how Donnie said it was too bad we couldn’t just travel back in time to get one?” He felt his brother stiffen. “And then Draxum said that time travel was possible but you needed a time scepter or a gateway, but that pizza wasn’t worth the risk of messing it up?”

Mikey could feel Leo looking at him. Mikey couldn’t look back at him, kept going, knowing if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to start again.

“And, and do you remember how me and Barry were gone for two years to complete my mystic training, after-“ deep breath”-after Raph died?”

“Yeah?” Mikey could hear the confusion and concern in his voice.

“I- I asked Draxum to help me find a time scepter or whatever, but he said they didn’t exist, but I kept asking about anyway to go back. And then he agreed to teach me how to make a time gateway.”

“Mikey.”

‘I- I just wanted to get Raph back!” Mikey plowed on, “You and Donnie were so angry and upset! Without Raph you were both throwing yourselves into fights and I was afraid I’d lose you too! And and I wanted him back too! So I made Barry teach me! On that trip I found all the books I needed, but it still took time to learn, and then we found out about the empyrean and we started winning and I- I stopped working on the gateway, trying to finish the fight with the Krang! And I forgot about it! And then- and now- now Donnie is dead too-” Mikey was sobbing by the end, voice cracking so bad the words barely made it out.

“Oh Mikey” Leo breathed, eyes wet, turned and wrapped him in tight hug, letting Mikey sob into his chest.

It’d been only two weeks since Donatello’s death.

“I want our brothers back, Leo. How are we supposed to do this without them?”

“I don’t know Mikey. I don’t know” And Oh. Oh shit. Leo was crying now too.

Mikey knew that Leo took Raph’s death very hard. They all did, of course, but Leo especially. They’d been co leading missions and supply runs and just watching each other’s backs. When one couldn’t handle the load, the other took it up. But then Raph was gone and Mikey himself had gone on a Mystic Journey for almost two years leaving them alone. So Leo and Donnie had relied on each other even more than before. And now Donnie was gone too. Mikey should have been more surprised by how well Leo had been holding himself together.

Mikey now realized why his brother had looked so panicked when he stopped him from opening the gateway. He didn’t want to lose his last brother.

“Shit, I’m sorry Leo” he cried and hugged his brother harder.

“Shhh Mikey” Leo whispered and rubbed soothing circles on his shell. He didn’t say it was okay, because nothing was okay.

They sat in silence for a while longer. Part of him was ashamed for crying so much when they were already surrounded by so much death and destruction. The other part of him (Dr. Feelings? Hadn’t heard from Him in a while) said that this was needed, that keeping everything locked up would just cause problems later.

They held each other and shared their grief for a few more minutes. Then they finally untangled themselves, and went back to leaning shoulder to shoulder.

“So this,” Leo pointed to his damaged arms, “was caused from you trying to open a time gateway?”

“Yeah,” Mikey sniffled.

“Guess this is why Draxum said you needed a team of sorcerers huh.”

“Yeah, trying to push the gateway through time was pretty tough. Guess it was a good thing you stopped me, I hadn’t even noticed the cracks.” Mikey rubbed at his arms, the more they sat there the heavier and more sore they felt.

“Even though you said you were close?” Leo asked, concern once again on his face.

“I wasn’t. Not really,” Mikey admitted. “I’d say I only got about… 60%? of the way there? But I was…. Also trying to go farther back than I really needed to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t kidding, earlier, when I said I was trying to get a pizza.”

Leo raised a brow in question.

“I was practicing. Seeing if I could even do it at all. Figure out how it feels to navigate the time stream. We joked about it so much,” Mikey chuckled wetly, “I thought I’d practice by pulling a pizza from the past.”

“Oh my god. You really did try to order a pizza via time travel” Leo said face palming, but Mikey saw a hint of smile, so he’d call it a win. “Wait, you were just going to pull the pizza through, not you go through the gateway itself?”

“Yeah that was the plan, though I’m not sure if it would have worked like that. That’s why I was testing it. I thought… I thought if I could just- just go back in time to right before they died, that maybe I could bring them here. Nothing else would be changed, we’d just get them back in the here and now.”

“Mikey, I’m not sure that would have worked anyway.”

“And why not?” Mikey demanded. He had worked too hard, to be told it was a fruitless endeavor (even if he already knew it).

“Because they did die,” Mikey refused to look at the purple and red bandanas tied around the sword handle that proved it. “And if you would manage to bring them here… It means you’d have pulled them from some other Time line, breaking it into branching timelines.”

“You sound like Donnie,” Mikey grumbled. Leo just smiled sadly.

“And if you did do that,” Leo continued, “you would have just made another timeline where we still lose a brother. And I don’t think either of them would want that.”

Oh.

Mikey hadn’t thought about it like that.

He still didn’t like it.

“I suppose you’re going to order me to not attempt it again?” Mikey asked, expecting a resounding “you bet your shell!”

But he was met with silence.

“Leo?”

“Well, I can’t really order you to do anything. But… I… don’t think you should try again, for pizza or our brothers,” Mikey pretended not to notice the tremor in his voice on that last word. “It seems too much of a risk for you to lose yourself in trying, and my Ninpo isn’t strong enough to help either.”

Leo paused and stared at his hands.

“Master Splinter used to say something about not wallowing in bad things of the past, that we just have to make do with what we have now. That all our experiences, good and bad, help to shape who we are.”

Mikey could remember his dad saying something like that. He thinks it had originally been said about his own fate of being forced to fight in the Battle Nexus and then captured by Draxum and mutated into a rat. And that while those events were awful for him, he wouldn’t change it for the world, because it had also given him his sons.

“So you’re saying that if we go and start trying to fix all the bad things in the past, we might miss out on the good things that also come from them?”

“Now you’re getting it,” Leo smiled at him.

“Like the finding out about the empyrean when I left after…?”

“Yeah. It helped us push back the Krang, and regain some area and resources.”

“But it didn’t last for very long…” Mikey said dejectedly.

“No, I guess it didn’t, but maybe it gave us enough time and space to find another way to finish them off for good. We still have hope that we can turn things around. As long as there’s hope that we can fix things here in the present, we shouldn’t use time travel. That… time travel will be the last possible course of action, Okay?”

“Okay, as long as you promise me you won’t die too,” Mikey knew that Leo couldn’t really promise that. But he needed his brother. Needed to know he wouldn’t throw himself into danger recklessly in vengeance or self-sacrificially.

“I promise to do my best to stay alive, as long as you do too.” That was really the best he could ask for in the situation.

“Ha, I can do that.” Mikey huffed a laugh. He continued, “So ordering pizza via time travel is a last resort, huh?”

Leo laughed the first real good laugh Mikey had heard in a long time, “Is that what-“

“What you said 15 years ago when we first had the conversation about time travel? Yep!” Mikey popped the p.

“Oh real funny old man!” Leo laughed, and locked an arm around his younger brother and gave him a good noogie.

“Old Man! Have you seen the wrinkles you’ve got!” Mikey said, affronted, while he failed to wiggle out of the hold.

“Not as many as you! And all that grey hair!”

“Excuse you! This is not hair, NOR grey! And it makes me looked distinguished, thank you very much!” Mikey said with a flip of said hair. (It was actually algae that had grown while on his mystic journey with Draxum. He had been going to get rid of it, but the rolling laughter it gave Donnie at seeing the look of jealousy on Leo’s face, that Mikey got to have Hair when he didn’t… well, Mikey decided to keep it).

“It makes you look like an old man!” Leo laughed.

“You’re just jealous.” Mikey sang.

“I am not! I-“ Leo was interrupted by his communicator beeping.

“Sensei?” The high pitched voice of a 12 year old Casey asked, “Have you found Master Michelangelo yet?”

“OH RIGHT! Yeah Casey, I got him, be there in a minute!”

“Understood, Sensei!” The call ended. Mikey raised an eyebrow.

“What was that about? And Yeesh, that kid needs to relax. He knows he doesn’t have to call you that all the time right?”

“I’ve TRIED to tell him that! But the kid just won’t have it,” Leo sighed, throwing his hands up in the air, but he had a fond smile on his face. “And he made something he wants to show us, and I was supposed to come get you. We better get going.”

As Mikey followed his brother out of the room, he thought to himself, that as long as he had people he cared about, like his brother and Casey and April, around, that everything would be okay. He would keep looking forward.

<<Beginning | <Prev | | Next>

4 notes · View notes

green4allseasons · 2 years

Text

It feels odd that this even needs to be a post, but since a popular creator reblogged of one of my microfics and it subsequently gained traction (that creator has since removed the reblog because of this ↓ which is truly OK and completely their prerogative) But in that vein, I feel like I need to make an introduction and make something clear!

Hi! I’m Green! And on here we go by the old fandom rules of ship and let ship (Dl;DR, pro-ship or literally whatever variation you want to call it doesn’t matter to me)!

Seriously, let people write whatever they want. I for one, have specific triggers, so there are certain ships and content that I cannot, will not interact with. Ever. But does that mean that I’ll go out of my way to put down others who do for whatever reason? Nope. Never.

So let this serve as a heads up that on my blog you will find BatFam content. Both platonic and romantic.

Depending on what multiverse I’m writing for and depending on what ship I choose to explore, you will find a mix of content, ships, and relationship dynamics on this page. And for my part, I will be sure to tag appropriately.

I am currently in the midst of writing a YJ JayTim fic. It is tender, it is heartfelt, it is found family, and it makes my heart happy in the way that all writers have felt a time or two when they write something they’re immensely proud of. And I will not apologize for it.

Feel welcome to check it out below if you’re interested. And if it bothers you…? It takes no effort to hit that “no thanks” button and block me!

The Bird And The Hood

Rating: M

Ft: Jason Todd and Tim Drake, whom in my world, only one is adopted. (But that’s not to say that I in any way disapprove of other writers interpretations where they both are!)

Rep: Bisexual Tim Drake, Demisexual Jason Todd, Lesbian Stephanie Brown

TW: Violence (in line with canon), mentions of death, mental health

Fandom: Young Justice

Part 1 Complete: 19 chapters (~80,000 words)

Part 2: Updating (6/11/23)

Really, I am sorry for the spicy post. I’m generally a very conflict-shy person. But to all my other pro shippers out there, especially those of us out here who are pro-ship despite having our own “cannot interact ships/content” you’re awesome!

#jaytim #timjay #jaydick #dickjay #jaycass #cassjay #dickbabs #timsteph #jaybabs #stephcass #jaysteph #And literally any of the platonic forms of those relationships

93 notes · View notes

opheliaswritings · 2 years

Text

Hananene Anaylsis: A Fatal Love Pt.2

pt.1 <--

WARNING; I'm open to all criticisms as long as they are peaceful and passive. I am not anti-hananene and any and all people aggressive comments/replies would be blocked.

Together:

In the past, it was very simple, as was the plot of TBHK at the time. It was just a girl helping out a ghost, but slowly yet surely wanting to learn more about him. Yashiro and Hanako had a sweet love to them. Yashiro pushed to learn more about Hanako, to push past his mysterious past and trust issues to learn more about him. For the first time in decades, Hanako felt genuine affection and care. As the manga goes on, so does their affection for each other grow. Yashiro proves to really care for him, and Hanako does as well. Willing to jump into danger for her and protect her from harm.

Why Hanako fell for her is self-explanatory. Yashiro was one of the first people to reach out to him. To want to get to know him, all he likes and dislikes, as well as negatives and positives traits. And after everything he has done, she still pursues him. She’s kind, headstrong, and always willing to help her loved ones. It’s hard NOT to fall for somebody like that. For Yashiro, it’s a bit blurred. She doesn’t have a clear reason to like Hanako, but I believe it’s because he genuinely cares and loves her. He makes her feel warm and safe, he’s nice to her and that’s enough to make a normal teenage girl's heart flutter.

And their love proves to be healthy in the Picture Perfect World Arc. In the arc, everything’s “perfect” and they get to hang out and have fun like regular teenagers. They go cleaning the pool, stargazing, biking, and just being alive. The arc proves that in a better world, they would have worked 100%. They have a bunch of cute and happy moments together and there isn't anything unhealthy. But. This is all fake. None of this would happen ever. The arc is a reminder to the characters and the audience that even if you escape to fantasy, reality would still be there.

They have gone through so much. More importantly, Yashiro. She is new to all of this. Hanako doesn’t exactly seem fazed by a lot of this. Infact, a lot of the events happened because of him. Aoi had to die because of him, Yashiro and Kou went through the picture perfect world because of him, Yashiro and her gang had to venture to the Red House and the far shore and get severely hurt because of him. You may say he didn’t directly cause it, but because of his recklessness he influenced all of it.

This is a big part of the relationship. Hanako’s impulsiveness and recklessness. He acts without any regard for anybody's word because it’s hard not to when they are all.. alive. Hanako is dead. He’s a supernatural. In the manga, the understanding between the supernatural and living is so minimal overall, and for Hanako it must be terribly so accounting for his backstory. But either way, Yashiro is deeply affected by this trait of his. And especially shows in chapter 91, where she wishes to die when just an arc ago she wished to live her life. It doesn’t help that, she’s so willing to die to be with him.

Him being dead and Yashiro alive is not something that isn’t covered a lot. Even if things were to work out, they could never be together and they slowly would have to drift apart. Unless, Yashiro also dies. Yashiro hints at this way before chapter 91. But, Hanako doesn't like this idea at all. To die for a lover, to give up everything just to be with them. Because despite everything, Hanako just wants her to live. He doesn't want her to spend eternity with regrets like him. This is a huge thing as well. Yashiro shouldn’t die for him and clearly Hanako doesn’t want her to.

Their roles forbid them to have a good relationship. He is a powerful supernatural tied with immense regret, leader of the other 6 school mysterys, whilst Yashiro is just a teenage girl. Hanako and Yashiro now both have immense trauma and with Yashiro literally being s/idic/l now, they aren’t good together. What they need is a stepback from each other to reevaluate what they are doing. One of the only ways they can truly make it as a couple is if they work on eachother first, because they aren’t ready for a relationship. A relationship, and a healthy one at that, needs a lot of things. Respect, balance, honesty, trust, open communication, and compromise, all the things I already referenced in the intro. They also take time and effort, and to have a healthy mindset first.

They could work as a healthy couple because I do believe they do genuinely love each other. But like I said they are ghost and human. If things do work out somehow, it wouldn’t last long. From the very beginning they were doomed to end. It’s horrifically tragic, but so is the world of Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun.

Audience perspective:

If you ask a fan of TBHK about hananene, they might say how much they love it, or how iffy they are about it now. So, I have decided to do a little fun gform to see what people (from my social media and discord servers) think overall of the ship! Thank you to everyone who participated! Here’s the results:

(the rest the colors besides red and blue are all in the grey area.)

This really did surprise me, because I didn’t expect so many people to be mixed on whether it’ll be unhealthy or unhealthy, but because of the recent chapters it really did have an effect on the questioning. A lot of people restated what I already explained, but some key things I’d like to bring to light.

For the people who did vote that it was healthy, their reasoning was because all around they make eachother happy and love each other, and that’s what relationships are all about, right? And they were proven to be happy in the Picture Perfect Arc.

Now this, I expected. You see, a lot of people, and I mean a lot, were fooled by Aidairo, thinking TBHK was fun and lighthearted, collecting an audience that are very into just fun romcoms. The problem with that audience is that they are used to stories and shows, in which the main couple, even if they are doing something pretty unhealthy, is seen as good. Unhealthy tropes are so common and used that a lot of people would turn a blind eye to actual problems and flaws. And, an excuse for it is that they love each other.

Now, there is no denying that Yashiro and Hanako are exactly the healthiest bunch, but they do love each other. But that is no excuse. Loving each other is not an action, but a feeling. Feelings may dictate actions, but it doesn’t mean those actions will be good. For example, you may love somebody, but forcing them to do as you say makes you toxic and the person has every right to leave you. Loving somebody isn’t enough, you're going to have to love them right. And I think that's one of the main problems.

(No hate to the anons who submitted the answers though! I understand where you’re coming from, but I feel as though the ideology is just very iffy and it wouldn’t exactly be appropriate of me to NOT point it out.)

The audience is so used to this type of behavior that a lot of people fail to see the very fatal flaws that they have. They can be healthy, but as of right now.. they really aren’t exactly good together.

Which is perfectly okay. Like I already said, it is fine for them to grow and to be truly happy with one another!

Personal Thoughts:

I found out about TBHK on a manga website way back in 2017. And I loved the manga. The beautiful art style, the characters, etc. But alas, it didn’t last very long because it didn’t really have a fanbase and I couldn’t find the rest of the chapters.

It was until 2020 that I really started to enjoy it because of the anime release and people started to post the chapters! And I was a, hardcore hananene fan. I loved it, and I wanted to see it grow. I wanted to see more of these two figure out their problems together and be happy. So you can imagine the amount of heartbreak these coming chapters after the anime, and I slowly, yet painfully, lost interest in the ship.

I moved on to other things in the animanga of course, but hananene still plagues my mind. Hananene is very interesting, because it attracted an audience that is so used to the main couple always being portrayed as being healthy all the time, when really it wasn’t the case. Aidairo calls out that trope, and makes the audience come face to face with their ideas of romance and twist it over their heads.

This post, originally, was to help out call this stuff out. But as I got more and more into it, I started to realize how much of a brilliant duo these two are. Not just in a narrative sense, but from a storytelling standpoint. In the romantic genre, we hardly ever get such a pairing that is so interesting. That has been done like this before. So I wanted to take the proper time to actually take a look into these two, especially since one of them, Yashiro, has never really gotten her own analysis before on her character or on her standpoint in the relationship (in which, this is not enough for me, I will be writing a Yashiro analysis, nobody can stop me.). I want to tell you my own thoughts and examinations of these two.

Conclusion:

All in all, Hanako and Yashiro have issues. Lots of issues. With Hanako being impulsive and Yashiro being so willing to die for him it’s hard to imagine them being exactly healthy. But, I do believe they could work if they truly work on each other on their own and to learn how to be better. They genuinely love each other, but with the rate things are going, it’s going south.

I hope you guys enjoy this looong ass post and if you do, I’ll be making a Yashiro analysis because she desperately needs one, so you can check that out as well!!

And to reiterate, no I’m not a anti - hananene and criticisms are welcome aslong as they are civil, any aggression would be deleted ❤️

#tbhk analysis #tbhk manga #nene yashiro #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk analysis #jibaku shoujo hanako kun #hanako kun spoilers #tbhk spoilers #yashiro nene #amane yugi #jshk manga #hananene

51 notes · View notes

wolfsama8 · 1 year

Text

The mechanic

Chapter 1

10 year flashback older Izuku as narrator

*We're really doing this? Sigh fine I guess you should know my story it all started on a Tuesday I can still remember the day as clear as day I walking to the dorms after an afternoon of intense workout he was dead tired*

Izuku:Jesus I can't wait to get in my bed..maybe I can get momo to let me sleep with her..

*I muttered to myself a habit I still have to this day anyway I walked inside and found it weird that momo hasn't appeared or even texted me all day but i put does thought at the back of my head not letting it bother me anymore what a mistake that was i walked inside and found it strange to see no one there*

Izuku:anyone home?

*I yelled but got no response i shrugged and walked to my room filled with all might crap if I could go back I would burn them all anyway i opened the door and received a punch to the stomach taking me by surprise that I spit out saliva and taking the air out of my lungs I wasn't giving time to recover as i received another punch at his back hard enough to send me to the stairs falling on them I protected his head until I reached the floor I groaned in pain if only I knew what was in store as I tried to get up and catch my breath that became even more erratic and uneven as his vision was blurry *

Izuku:w...what the hell..

*Before i could say anything else I start choking as vines wrap around my neck and start to strangle as I'm lifted to the air I looked down and see my class and class B looking furious as ibarra slammed me in the ground she lifted me and slammed me again over and over until I was thrown through a window this time it made me spit out blood as I tumble in the ground both classes comes out*

Izuku:w..what are you doing..?!

*I managed to say in a great amount of pain but my question fell on death ears as they came running this time I didn't stay there I jumped out of the way barely able to dodge having no energy*

Kaminari:you're not going anywhere you traitor!!

*Kirishima and tetsutetsu came and grabbed me by my arms keeping me in place as both had there quirks activated I was confused until I heard it*

Kaminari:Indiscriminate Shock 1.3 Million Volts!!!

*He shot it..he shot me with 1,300,000 volts of electricity making me scream in pure agony but I didn't pass out as some sick god wanted to make me suffer wanted me to stay awake through every excruciating second of this torture once he was done both metal skins let me go as I fall I get on my knees my arms and legs black because of the lightning even moving them an inch brings out an immense amount of pain I thought I was over that's when I heard Iida from my back*

Iida:Recipro Burst!!

*He kicked me in the back I screamed as I felt and heard something snapped in my back greater agony I could not feel after that it was but a blur as every single member of both classes used me as there personal punching bag but...there is one moment that will stay incraved in my mind for years to come momo walking up to my now broken body as I fool I thought she would tell them to stop to protect me but she didn't she just slapped me and threw the engagement ring at me I saw nothing but fury and disgust in her eyes*

Momo:I can't believe you were the traitor you disgust me you worthless piece of shit my friends almost died because of you I hope you rot in hell!!!

3rd person

*Painfully izuku grabbed he ring and held it in his fist tears would run through his face If he wasn't in so much pain*

Nezu:oh trust me young yaoyorozu he will

*Izuku painfully turned and saw every teacher looking at him with disgust all might came in first and grabbed izuku by his head and took a piece of his hair taking away his quirk*

Toshinori:I made a mistake choosing you you don't deserve to be my successor you vile villain!!

Older Izuku pov

*All might punched me sending me to the wall breaking it I couldn't even scream anymore and now that I didn't have ofa inside me the pain was twice as much as nezu slowly walked up to me*

Nezu:izuku midoriya you are under arrest for being U.A. traitor and will be sent to Tartarus without trial we have all the evidence that you are the traitor

*I wanted to defend myself by god I wanted to scream for help to defend myself I wanted to scream of a hero to save me but I couldn't not only because pony broke my jaw but I had no one on my side as I glanced around everyone was looking with a mixed of negative emotion the majority was hate and disgust as I closed my eyes finally passing out*

Hours later

*Izuku woke up he could barely move as he was in so much pain he slowly looked down at his body all bandaged up*

Izuku:w..where..am..I..

*Izuku said as slowly as possible to get the least amount of pain from his broken jaw*

???:in you're new forever home

*i slowly turned my head and saw him*

Stain:hey kid and welcome to Tartarus get comfy you're gonna be here for a long while..

#the mechanic #fanfic #fanfiction #my hero academia #bnha izuku #izumomo #betrayed #wattpad #patreon

0 notes

wardenparker · 2 years

Text

Broken Road - part 3

Javier Peña x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Javier’s high school sweetheart turns up at the Embassy, it shakes him right to his foundation. How will he cope when he learns that everything he thought he knew about his first heartbreak was a lie?

Rating: Mature Word Count: 17.9k Warnings: Javi with feelings deserves his own warning. Family betrayal, angst, lies/deceit/elaborate conspiracy, quite a lot of yelling, drastic decisions made under drastic circumstances, alcohol/drunkenness, a bit of weird psychosexual bullshit (not directed at Javi or Gacelita). We respect sex workers in this house. Summary: An unexpected visit causes a panic at the office and forces the reunited lovers to reevaluate the timeline of their future. Thankfully, Steve and Connie are there to be the supportive best friends they are. Notes: The outpouring of love for these two has been so immense and we are so, so grateful! We love a soft Javi and a strong reader, and these two definitely need their strength for this chapter.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

January 22, 1992:

The drag of the day has been torture, and you’ve been watching the time tick by agonizingly slowly for the last two hours. If you have to read one more shipping manifest from La Catedral or file another memo from the Colombian Army, your head is going to explode. With less than a half hour left to your work day, you’re looking forward to dinner out with Javi and the Murphy’s, and just spending some time with your favorite person. The guys have been chasing a lead for a few days now and it finally panned out this morning, so you’re celebrating. You might even put on a dress tonight if Javi wants to go dancing after dinner.

Javi huffs and looks across his desk at Steve. “We could always cut out early.” He complains making his partner look up from his typewriter and smirk. Javi is eager to see you, especially since he's been busier than normal for the past two day, having to drive down to Medellín “It’s funny how I could never get you out of the office for dinner and now it’s you booting me out the door.” The blonde man observe, thinking it hilarious how different Javier Peña was because of you.

The phone on Javier’s desk rings and he grumbles as he shoves the receiver into the crook of his neck to answer. “Hey baby.” Your voice is bright on the other end. “I’m wrapping up, are you guys still good for dinner tonight?”

In an instant the disgruntled look on his face clears and he leans back in his chair and grins. “Hey Gacelita.” He had taken to calling you the pet name again, especially when the two of you were at work. Wanting to not give the impression he didn’t respect you. “Yeah, we are still on for tonight.” He assures you, looking over at Steve, who is rolling his eyes. Javi grabs a balled up piece of paper and throws it at him. “You just going to come down here when your done?”

“Yeah, I’m just finishing up these memos and then I’ll be down.” The DEA office is closer to the elevators, so you’ve taken to picking him up on the way home just for the extra wide smile he gives you. “Do you mind if we go home so I can change first, though?” Dinner in uniform isn’t always comfortable for you, culturally speaking. There are rightfully a lot of people who wish the US military wasn’t involved in their shit. On the bright side, maybe you can get a quickie in before you leave.

“Of course.” Javier prefers you out of uniform. Less of a target in his experience. “We’ll see you in ten minutes.” Javi hangs up and looks at Steve. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. She wants to change before we meet you at the restaurant.”

******

You’re grinning when you hang up, sunny expression a seemingly unshakeable accessory these days. Having Javier back has been incredible, and not just the sex - though that is definitely out of this world. There’s no way tonight will be anything but brilliant if you have any say in the matter. But that say evaporates in an instant when you look up from your desk phone to see a figure looming in your doorway. “General?!” You can feel the kick to your gut even as you jump to your feet behind your desk. What the fuck is he doing here?

Javi checks his watch again and huffs, you were supposed to be here seven minutes ago. He knows that you don't normally run late, Steve already headed out to meet up with Connie. He rolls his head around his shoulders and sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and striding out of his office and down the hall towards your office, intent on pulling you away from whatever was keeping you.

“This is a surprise.” And not a good one, you think, judging from the look on your father’s face.

General Scott Randolph had an impressive posture, one honed over the twenty five years he had spent the in US Army. HIs back ramrod straight and wearing the uniform that had defined his life, he steps into your office. Even in retirement, his job as an advisor to the military strategic planning board in Washington allowed him to continue wearing it. It was used now to push his was into the Embassy and more specifically into your office without prior authorization or an appointment. "I pulled some strings." He announced, watching you carefully. "You are being cut orders to Washington. You are leaving by the end of the week."

“What?” There’s a Not-at-all mild panic in your voice and you are instantly almost sick right there at your desk. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening again. He can’t be doing this. “How? Why?” In the terrified way your head is spinning, you don’t even know where to begin with your utter indignation.

"You are needed in D.C." He tells you stiffly, eyeing the office with distain. He hadn't been aware of who was in Colombia until it was too late but he was rectifying that mistake now. "It will be good for career."

“Good for my —?” Your face falls instantly, as the puzzle pieces slide into place. This is no accident. It’s especially not an accident that he showed up with the news himself. “Vanessa called you, didn’t she?” You are going to pull your sister’s hair out one strand at a time and then shave her precious sculpted eyebrows off.

"Your career, Captain." He nods, ignoring the personal question. You would get over it, once you saw that he was doing what was best for you. "It will put you in the sphere of generals. Make your name known since you refuse to use your real name." It still grated that you had chosen to take Marcello's last name instead of keeping Randolph.

“We can at least close the door if we’re going to go a dozen rounds over this.” You mutter, rounding the edge of your desk and passing him to shut your office door. The people around here are gossips, and you know Messina is still in her office. She doesn’t need to hear you getting into it with your father. And you have no intention of inviting him back to your apartment for a discussion, not even wanting to think about what Javi would do if the two of them were face-to-face. “This posting is supposed to be for a year. It’s been three weeks.” The best thing you can do is keep your cool right now, and not turn into a child throwing a tantrum.

"Hey." Javi jogs up to the door as you start to close it. "Are you ready to go?" He catches the door before it shuts. "Steve's already left."

“Not exactly.” His timing couldn’t possibly be worse but the night is ruined anyway. “Why don’t you go have dinner with Steve and Connie and I’ll see you at home?” The last part is nearly mumbled under your breath - a desperate attempt to keep the two men on either side of the door from hearing too much either way.

"That's not going to happen babe, I've missed you." Javi murmurs with a shake of his head. "Come on, I'll help you with whatever was dumped on you desk and we can go home." He pushes the door open and freezes when he sees your father standing there. His defenses are up, and he stands straight and glowers at the man who had ruined your future together.

“Apparently, I’m being transferred.” The sentence makes your blood run cold to say out loud. It’s like being seventeen all over again, sobbing all the way across town when you went to tell Javi you were moving in a week. You want to scream - throw things and slap your manipulative asshole of a father right across his hateful face. You’ve been a dutiful first born for your entire life, and the thanks you get are misery and heartbreak.

"Why?" He demands harshly, fists curling at his sides at his glare gets even darker. "What possible reason would the US government have in relocating a solider they just assigned to the Embassy?" He doesn't trust your father for a second and he is letting him know it. He's no longer an eighteen-year-old boy looking for your father's approval. He's a man who has been up against ambassadors and heads of state often. He's argued with the President of Colombia and stared death in the face. Scott Randolph, US Army didn't scare him anymore.

“It’s no concern of yours.” General Randolph’s chest lives in a perpetual state of being puffed up and he looks down his nose at the unsavory form of Javier Peña like it makes giving him indigestion just to look that far down. The transformation from scrawny teenager to disgruntled paper pusher is nothing to him. “Actually?” You round your shoulders at the General and swallow the urge to obey. The ingrained instinct to submit to his will. Standing between them makes you feel halfway like a referee and all the way like you need goddamn drink. “I’m pretty sure it is my fiancé’s concern where I’m stationed.”

It makes him smirk that for a moment your father's imposing façade drops, his eyes bulging in shock and his jaw dropping open for a moment, leaving him looking like a gaping fish as he searches for words. "Absolutely not." He thunders when he finally finds his voice again. "You will obey your superiors and get your ass on a plane to Washington, Captain. That is a direct goddamn order!" Javier growls and takes a step forward, pissed at the way that you are being talked to. Talked down to by this man who no longer holds any fucking power over you. "You bastard. You fucking bastard!"

“Javi.” With one hand to his chest and determination in your eyes, you hold him back before he all but attacks your father. “Direct from who?” You ask him. This is almost more emotional than he was when your mother died, and that interests you immensely. “Whose orders are sending me to Washington? The Army, or yours?”

"There all the same. Me, the Army, both of us want what's right for you." General Randolph sneers condescendingly. "Living in Texas and popping out babies was never your future. You are going to be Chief of Staff to the President one day."

Whatever response he was expecting, it is definitely not laughter. Not the disbelieving, absurdist laughter pouring from your lips as you stare at him. “I don’t want to be Chief of Staff.” You shake your head at him like it’s the single stupidest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. “But why am I only just realizing that you don’t actually care?”

"It's what you've worked for." He hisses, puffing up his chest. "I have always had your best interests in mind. Even when making the hard choices." Irritated, he spares an imposing glare at Javi. "You let this boy cloud your judgement. Always did. You would have ended up a college dropout and housewife. Instead you are a Captain. Who I hear is up for Major."

“I—” There is a flash of excitement there for just a moment before it hits you. You don’t actually care if you ever make Major. That’s not the title that excites you. Rank has never been the title that excites you. “No.” It might be the first time you’ve ever said it to him in your entire life, and it feels foreign and scary at the same time that it feels powerful. “No. You’re wrong. I wouldn’t have given up anything if I’d married Javi after college.” Contradicting your father might be the most alien thing you have ever done in your life but it’s true. “I’d be a wife and a mother, sure, but I would probably be sheriff by now. I—“ You look at him and can just feel the roiling in your gut and the way your entire being wants to pull back and apologize and do as you’re told. But that’s been going on for far too long. And really? It has never made you happy. “I would be happy being a wife, a mother, and the fucking Sheriff of Laredo County. And to be honest I don’t understand why it isn’t good enough for you that your daughter be goddamn happy.”

"You have a legacy to uphold." There is ice in General Randolph's voice, that commanding tone that makes grown men tremble in their boots and quiver at the idea of defying his orders. "You are a Randolph. Meant to be more than a sheriff. You are meant to lead the Army. To be the first female general of the armed forces. It's what we have worked for your entire career."

“Well, that’s news to me.” The way your shoulders square and back straightens when you shake your head at him is something of a miracle - that tone in his voice used to send you scrambling to obey. “I had no idea I wanted to be Chief of Staff or general.”

"Last time I checked." Javier's tone is just as fucking icy as your father's, even lower in pitch and lethal as it whips through the conversation. "A fucking thirty-three-year-old woman had complete control over her own goddamn life and future. Sir."

“Oh no,” you shake your head at Javi, feeling your heart beating in your throat at the nearly feral look on his face. He’s furious and barely restraining himself and you love him even more for letting you fight your own battle. “No, he doesn’t deserve an ounce of your respect after the way he treated you.” He doesn’t deserve any of yours, either, if that’s how you’re measuring it. When you turn back to your father, he’s practically breathing fire. “Let me just clarify something.” You tell him, more than ask. “Because I am an officer of the US Army, and you outrank me, you have found a way to have my appointment here rescinded and gotten me transferred to Washington. Am I understanding this correctly? You are abusing your commission in order to prevent me from marrying Javier for the second time.”

"Marry?" He spits the words as if it is foul and shakes his head. "This man is not the man for you. You need someone like David was. A good soldier Someone who won't overshadow you. You have an advantage right now. You are an active army officer and a gold star widow." He has not spend all this time building up your name, carefully crafting your path for you to throw it away on Javier Peña.

“Interesting that I’m still not hearing a single concern for happiness anywhere in here.” You say to Javi, tilting your head in your father’s direction as though he can’t hear you even though he’s standing three feet away bellowing like an ox.

"Your happiness doesn't matter!" He roars. "It's your legacy that matters! Just like it's my legacy on the line!" Javier sees red and starts moving towards the general, ready to beat the man within and inch of his life.

“Baby, don’t.” You can feel Javier move before you even see it, and manage to grab his arm before he can move past you. It takes a considerable amount of your not inconsiderable strength to stop him, but you manage it. “I need you to go see if Noonan is still in his office.” You tell him, the certainty and suddenness of your decision making your voice into a growl. “Can you go knock on his door for me? I need to talk to him.” Here. In front of your father. And there isn’t a single fucking thing he can do about it.

Javier's brow furrows and it's on the tip of his tongue to argue with you, but he sees the set of your shoulders. "Yeah." He gives your father another hard glared and takes a deep breath before he turns on his heel and marches out of the office to go see the ambassador. He will bring the man here come hell or high water, not wanting to leave you alone with this man for too long, not caring that it's your father.

“I’ve spent my entire life trying to make you proud of me.” Alone in a room with your father is a place you’ve spent plenty of formative hours - listening to his advice and his plans for your future, even sixteen years ago as he consoled you over losing Javier. What a load of fucking horse shit. He must have been gleeful while you cried your eyes out. It makes you want to vomit. “And nothing I did was ever enough. ROTC? Great, just as long as it went with the major you wanted and the extracurricular you approved of. Every promotion was just a stepping stone. Every assignment was just resume building. You must have been ecstatic when I kept stalling David on having kids, even though being a mother is something I’ve always wanted.”

"You are at a pivotal moment in your career." General Randolph tells you. "Sacrifices must be made." He tells you, his tone quieting down into the one that he uses to counsel soldiers under his command. It's a comforting and wise tone, one that has caused many a man to re-enlist or to join when he was quelling fears on recruiting duty in Laredo. "It will be worth it when you are in the history books, Captain."

“I don’t give a fuck about history books.” You can’t even believe you’re speaking to him like this, but it’s making you feel downright invincible. To not be afraid of him anymore is like a miracle. “Or your legacy, either.”

He huffs, puffing up his chest and leveling another withering glare on you. "Watch your tone, little girl." He warns you. Peña. He has to be behind this spurt if defiance. He always made you start to veer from the path he had chosen for you. You never thought about anything other than the Army until that boy came into your life.

It has the complete opposite of its desired effect, and for the second time in your entire life, you fully laugh in your father’s face. “Watch my tone?” You scoff. “Or what? You’ll hit me? You’ll ruin my life again?”

"Stop being so dramatic." He practically rolls his eyes, although he would never admit to doing such a thing. "I didn't ruin your life. If I hadn't taken you away from Laredo and him you never would have married David. You regret him? Regret the man who loved. you and died valiantly in a combat zone, doing his sworn duty?"

“No. I don’t regret David. But I do regret believing you ever helped me out of love. All you wanted was a chess piece to brag about, not a child.” You shake your head again, exhaling a breath of disbelief as you hear the door reopen behind you.

Noonan steps in, followed immediately by Javier who closes the door behind him. Despite the times the volume had reached shouting level, this was still a private matter and he was trying to contain it as much as possible. "Captain Marcello, you asked to see me?" She asks, glancing at the General who is obviously enraged in front of you but dismissing him. He did not concern her, you did. "What can I help you with?"

“Sir.” Though Noonan has no military rank, he is your commander in Colombia and your immediate superior since taking over the post of attaché a few weeks ago. You have forged a good relationship since then, even giving him a few side stories about Javi as a teen to give him a little insight into the man he’s become. Honestly, it’s a working relationship that you will be sad to sever, but not because of anything beyond affection for the man. You face him, taking a deep, steadying breath before making what might be the biggest decision of your life so far. “Ambassador, I am resigning my commission as Captain of the US Army effective immediately. There will be a letter to that effect on your desk by the morning, and I hope you will accept my resume as a civilian applicant for Embassy work at that time.” The words make you feel like you’re about to vibrate right out of your boots, but to you there is no question. The life you want, your happiness is far more important than the military, or your fathers goddamn legacy. If the choice is Javi or the Army, you’ll choose Javi every time.

"You cannot do that!" Your father thunders, stepping forward and balling up his fist. Noonan raises a brow and turns towards the General with a look that spoke of irritation. "Who the hell are you that you think you can dictate orders to my attaché?" He demands, not in a mood to be trifled with. He had drinks with the Presidente in an hour and needed to be done with whatever this is.

“My father seems to be under the impression that he is also my commanding officer.” You tell Noonan flatly. So far you haven’t dared to look at Javi since he’s come back in the room, afraid that you might get emotional in the middle of this whole shit show if you look over and hopefully see any amount of pride in his face.

Noonan chuckles and lifts a brow. "Does he?" He huffs. "Last time I checked, this is my embassy." He turns to the General and stares him down. "While I don't give a damn what this is really all about, I don't take kindly to anyone thinking they can order my people around." He tells him. "I suggest you leave before I give State a call and ask them what the fuck an Army general is doing down here trying to dictate personnel."

This is pretty much the play you were hoping for - knowing Noonan has just as much of an ego as your father but in a different way. You’ve been in. The Army long enough to know that almost every man can be goaded into a pissing contest under the right circumstances, and undermining Ambassador Noonan’s authority is his right set of circumstances. “This isn’t over.” The General hisses at you, starting too look so inflated that steam might pour out of his ears at any time. “Yes. It is.” You tell him flatly, even though you barely believe it yourself. “I suggest you go straight back to the airport, since you don’t speak Spanish and insist on running around in full uniform. You’re a walking target for any of the narcos like that, and I don’t want to have to explain to Vanessa that you got shot when you came down here to bully me.”

The General huffs and looks at you with a smirk. "That's find." He tells you. "You will be back in the states within a week. Without your orders here, your commission, you have no visa to stay in Colombia."

The smile that creeps across your face when you finally look over at Javier is beaming. “I do as long as my fiancé doesn’t mind getting married a little faster than we planned.”

"You wouldn't dare." The General hisses. "Oh yes the fuck we would." Javier interjects with a look over at the Ambassador. "We can get the paperwork filed tonight, right sir?" Noonan gives the DEA agent an amused look. Peña was often a pain in his ass but he was enjoying the slapped ass expression on the pompous general's face. "Not only that, but I can perform the ceremony whenever you want." He tells the two of you. "I'm licensed by the government." He tells you. "For my daughter's wedding."

“I don’t think the Murphy’s will mind coming back to the Embassy for this.” The fact that Noonan is going along with this is making you practically giddy. Javi has no idea that you and Connie went shopping while they were in Medellín and actually found your dress - the intention was to take it to a local seamstress that Connie knew from the coming to have some flowers embroidered on the collar, but you don’t mind that it isn’t done. The white linen sundress is already beautiful.

"Don't do this." Your father, the general, is now shucking the pride and has hit a slightly panicked mode. He knows that if you do this, he will lose you permanently. "Think about this."

“I’ve thought about this every day for sixteen years.” Your gut twists at the idea of hurting your father, it really does, but you’re done with the bullshit. You’re done with being ordered around. And you’re done with being told what you want instead of deciding for yourself. “You can stay for the wedding, or you can leave now. Those are your choices, and neither one of them will have any effect whatsoever on whether or not it happens.”

His jaw tightens, stony faced and obstinate. "Fine." He spits, shaking his head. "Don't both come crawling home when it fails and you have lost everything." He tells you before he marches past you and out the door.

The way you exhale is a dead giveaway to how nervous you’ve been, and you reach to shake the ambassador’s hand gratefully. “If you don’t mind, sir, Javier and I will file for the marriage license tonight but we can see to the wedding in the morning? I know you have drinks with El Presidente tonight and I’d like to make sure my father is on a plane back to the States so I can actually enjoy my wedding day.”

Noonan searches your eyes and nods. "Of course." He tells you before he looks over at Javier. "Now I'm going to ask. Are you sure about marrying this one?" He asks with a huff. "He's a pain in my ass."

“Mine too, sir.” You grin at Javier. “It’s one of the things I love about him.”

Noonan snorts. "Well, just put the paperwork on my secretary's desk and we will get things handled." He chuckles. "Go home, spend your last night as an unmarried couple."

“Thank you, sir.” Noonan leaves without anymore to do, barely knowing what has happened in the first place, and you nearly collapse in Javier’s arms the second the door shuts behind him.

"Jesus, baby." Javi tugs you close to him and buries his face in your neck. "Are you okay? What the hell was he doing here?"

“Vanessa must have called him.” The tears are almost instant now - frustrated, anxious, scared tears that you can only cry with him. It won’t last too long, you just need yo get them out. “He got my orders changed. Managed to have me reassigned to Washington.” Your fingers bite into his shirt, holding on for dear life. “We would’ve only had another week together. J-just like the fucking last time.”

"Are you sure you want to resign?" He asks you seriously, pulling away and cupping your cheek. "If you want to stay in baby, I support that. I'm sure we could get the orders canceled. Ask Noonan to take care of it."

“This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about it.” His thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks and you sniffle, feeling overwhelmed and a little like a spinning top. “If I stay in, I’ll always be afraid of him pulling something like this again. Or worse, pulling strings that I never see. Still controlling our lives with invisible hands. I can’t live like that, baby. Not anymore.”

He nods seriously. "Then you resign." He murmurs softly. "We will get married so you can stay with me in Colombia and we will figure this out as we go." He's not even worried about it, knowing that all he needs is you. Leaning in, he presses his lips to yours. "We need to call my pops."

“And I need to get you a ring.” You chase his lips for the comfort of having him close, arms wrapped tightly around his body and holding him like an anchor. “Think Messina would kill you if you took a couple of sick days for a last-minute mini honeymoon?”

"Yeah." He winces but honestly it was a miracle to get a weekend day off. He hadn't had a day off since he had moved you in. "But she can deal with it. I'm exhausted and a few days in bed would do me good." He hums in amusement.

“When this is all over, we’ll have an actual vacation.” It’s as sound a suggestion as any, considering neither of you has any idea when or if that will ever be. Pulling back a little, you search his eyes carefully. “You sure you’re okay with this, Jav? It’s only been a couple of weeks. I can go back to the States for a while if you need time.”

"You are not walking out of my life anytime soon." He huffs. "Not even to go back to the States for awhile. I- please don't. I'm good with this."

“Okay.” You won’t question him on it a second longer. “I mean, I’ll have to go back for a few days to get my stuff from Fort Dix. But I’ll take Connie with me and maybe we’ll stop in Texas and see Pops on the way home?”

“He would like that.” Javi smiles at how happy seeing you would make his old man. He had been proud the two of you had found each other again, happy for his son because he had known that even if he didn’t talk about it, Javier still loved you. “Do you need any of the stuff in the states?” He asks seriously. “If not, leave it at the ranch and Pop can store it in the old bunkhouse. Everything here in Colombia is stuff I bought here.”

“I might bring back some more clothes since I won’t be living half my life in uniform anymore.” It’s an odd thought, purely in a logistic level, but civilian life isn’t necessarily as forbidding as it could be as long as you have Javi beside you. Leaning against the solid wall of him, you slowly inhale Javi’s comforting scent and exhale just as deeply. “Let’s go fill out the paperwork for the marriage license and go home, mi amor. It’s been a long day.”

“I’m gonna call Steve and tell me that we are just going to order in.” He murmurs, seeing how emotionally exhausted you are. “You can soak in a bath with a beer.”

“Rum.” You insist, grabbing your jacket and purse off the hook on the wall. “A whole fucking bottle of rum.”

“Don’t blame me if you’re hungover at your wedding.” Javi snorts and follows you out the door.

Javier listens to the shower run in the bathroom, knowing that you will be in there a few minutes longer and he picks up the phone in the living room and quickly dialing a number. "Yeah." He rolls his eyes at the way that Steve answers the phone, although there aren't too many in Bogotá that have the agent's home phone number. It's most always official unless it was family making a costly call from the US, and they tended to limit those calls to Sunday afternoons. Or right during prime fucking time as Steve liked to complain about on Monday mornings. "Hey, I need a favor." He knows there will be a million questions just like there were last night when he called and cancelled dinner. "I need help picking out a bridal bouquet."

Steve's head pops up, holding the receiver out in a gesture of what the fuck with one hand and his half-drunk mug of coffee in the other. "It's seven in the damn morning, Peña. On a Thursday. Who gets married on a Thursday morning?"

"Well, people who don't want to have their fiancée be shipped back to the states because she resigned her commission last night get married on a Thursday." Javi tells him dryly, still slightly in shock over how serious you had been about it. He had halfway expected you to panic and change your mind, but you have been adamant even in the light of day and a night to cool down from. your anger at your father's meddling.

"What the fuck happened last night?" Instead of a quiet bewilderment, he's practically shouting in surprise and confusion. And maybe even a little excitement. Steve likes you - you've become a fast friend to Connie, don't take a single ounce of Peña's bullshit moods, and have brought another comforting touch of the States into their lives. You even offered to help him with his Spanish without being an asshole about it.

"Her father showed up." His easy grin falls at just mentioning your father. "Tried to order her to Washington and she put her foot down." There's a lot more to the story but he can tell you that later. "You and Connie are going to be good friends and watch Noonan marry us today. But first, can you please help me find my bride a fucking set of flowers to hold? Shit, and a ring."

"There's a flower shop by the comuna where I get stuff for Connie." Steve offers immediately. He's absorbed as much as he can of what your father did to you and Javier when you were kids and he is not a fan of the General's by any shape of the imagination. "It's a family-owned place, they have photos up from weddings they've done. I bet they'd know a jewelry place."

"Can you meet me outside in 10?" He asks. "And send Connie over to help her? I know she's a little overwhelmed even though she's pretending she's okay."

"Yeah. See you in a few." There's no hesitation as he hangs up the phone, but Steve does glance down at the suit he randomly grabbed out of his closet with a slight grimace. It's what Connie calls his 'saggy ass suit', and that doesn't exactly scream wedding party to him. Steve may not have any great sense of style, but his momma raised him to respect the important things in life - and a wedding is fucking important. "Hey babe!" He hustles back down the hall to the bedroom he shares with his wife, ready to have her redress him before they head over to your place.

Javi doesn't pace but he is aimlessly moving around, jittery while he waits for Steve in front of the building. Getting married he knows that it's not nerves like most would mistake his behavior for. He's excited. It was something he wanted ten years ago. He's of course worried that he won't be good at it, too old, too set in his ways. He knows that if he starts to do anything you don't like, you will be quick to tell him.

"You ready?" Steve asks, the moment he bursts through the front doors of the apartment building to find his partner treading a groove in the sidewalk. He's changed into a light grey suit with a white shirt and blue tie at Connie's recommendation and he claps his hands together enthusiastically.

“Yeah.” He wishes he had a cigarette, but you’ve asked him to try and stop, so he’s without the nicotine. “Let’s go throw this shit together.” He huffs in amusement.

"Flowers. Ring. What else?" There were very few things required of Steve the day he married Connie besides putting on the tux she had picked out for him and showing up on time. For all the bullshit Javier has ever put him through, he cares about his partner. This is a big day and it's more than sixteen years in the making.

"Not right now. All we need is for us to get married." Javi meet's Steve's eyes. "Ring and flowers."

******

"Oh, thank god." The frown on your face is pronounced when you swing the door open in your bathrobe but your shoulders roll in relief at the sight of Connie Murphy on your doorstep. You step back to let her in and rope your arms around her tightly as the door shuts in her wake. "We have two hours to get me looking decent and find Javi a ring."

Connie grins at you when she pulls back. "I have a million questions but we can talk will we get you ready to marry the love of your life!" She is practically squealing, giddy at the idea that she will get to witness some true happiness.

"I know this is last minute, and I know I hit panic mode the second Javi left to go meet Steve, but fuck am I glad I don't have to deal with a ballroom full of relatives I've barely ever met before." You turn to head down the hall to the second bedroom, where you stashed the dress you and Connie had found, along with a pair of blue high heels that was one of the few colourful pairs of shoes you own. "Something blue?" You shrug hopefully, begging for her approval when you hold them up for her to see.

Connie smiles and nods. "Perfect." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pair of diamond and pearl earrings. "These could work for your something borrow? If you want."

"Oh, they're beautiful." The little clusters of precious metal and glistening stones are much finer than anything you own, and you're grateful for Connie's gorgeous taste as well as generosity. "Thank you, honey." You hug her tightly again, feeling how emotional you're becoming as the reality of what this morning holds creeps closer. "The dress and the very skimpy lingerie are both new." Adjusting the shoulder of the robe you're wearing, you pull the sleeve away to expose a glimpse of white lace and grin. "That just leaves 'something old'."

"What about your army pin?" She asks you with a tilt of her head. "It can be hidden and it's technically something old."

"I--" You blow out a sigh, hanging your head in front of her. "I resigned my commission last night. I think it's going to take me a while before I can look at any of my Army stuff for a while without being mad or bitter or just plain upset."

"Oh shit." Connie's face falls and her arm immediately comes around you. "Honey, I'm so sorry." She strokes your back gently and then lights up. "I have my grandmother's pearls. They’re old."

"Gran wouldn't mind contributing to a very weird not-quite-shotgun wedding?" The eyebrow you raise at her is hopefully to make her laugh, though it is an honest question.

Connie snorts and shakes her head with her tongue between her teeth. "Gran was married with a baby in her stomach unless we all failed at math." She tells you with wink. "I think this is right up her alley."

"Alright, Gran!" You laugh, feeling yourself tight with nerves despite honestly being ecstatic to finally marry Javi. The waves of anxiety rolling through you have everything to do with what happened last night and only a tiny bit to do with pushing up the wedding. It was going to happen no matter what - you agreed on that. It's just happening now instead of some amorphous time in the future. "Okay. I'll get dressed and figure out how to do my hair and makeup like a civilian for the first time in years, and then we'll go back up to your place for the necklace?"

“And then we will go get Javi a ring.” Connie agrees as she follows you back through the apartment to the bedroom you share with Javi. “Steve said he was going to leave me the car and we will meet them at the embassy.”

"I don't even know where there is a jewelry store around here." You duck behind the open closet door to slip out of your robe and put on the sundress the two of you had found together. Colombia in January is beautifully warm and sunny, and it will be just as nice to wear today as it would have been in May or August or October.

“I know one we can go to.” Connie tells you quietly, admiring the dress again. “I had to have Steve’s watch taken in to give the face and battery replaced.” She doesn’t mention that the watch was damaged during on of the raids that her husband and your fiancé participated in. Nothing remotely unhappy would be mentioned today if she has her way.

"You're an angel." There's no way in hell you would be able to pull everything off this morning without both Murphy's help, and you're so grateful that Javi has such kind friends. If it were up to just you and him, things would be nice enough, but definitely take longer to put together. "I'm sorry we didn't get to have a bachelorette night like we talked about but...there's a little trip I have to make that I was hoping you might want to join me on. And it will almost definitely be wilder than any night out in a salsa club."

“I’m down.” Connie immediately agrees, knowing that whatever it is, the two of you will have fun and she’s eager to get to know you even better. “Where are we going?”

"New Jersey." You grimace comically, knowing it's not a place people generally find terribly interesting to visit. "Since I resigned my commission, I need to retrieve my stuff from storage at Fort Dix." Turning your back to Connie, she pulls the zipper up on your dress easily and smooths the fabric down your back for good measure before you grab your hairbrush off the bureau. "I thought maybe we could rent a U-Haul in Jersey and drive the stuff I actually want to keep down to Laredo like a two-day Thelma and Louise road trip minus the crime and suicide."

Connie snorts and shakes her head. “Gas station coffee and crazy highway drivers.” Connie grins. “Throw in a motel with one of those magic finger beds and a greasy pie and we’ve got a deal.”

"Cross my heart." You swear, pausing pulling the brush through your hair to swipe an 'x' over your heart with one finger. "We'll drop everything off with Pops in Laredo and you can hear some more stories about tiny Javi right from the horse's mouth."

“Oh you should have lead with that.” Connie giggles. “You wouldn’t have had to throw in the pizza or the bed.”

"He's going to love you." Your soon-to-be father-in-law had been emotional on the phone last night when you and Javier had called to tell him that you were moving up the wedding to half a day away, and you had pitched the idea of storing some of your things at the ranch in the same call. As expected, Chucho was ready and willing to agree to anything that will make his son's life happier, and promised you that he couldn't wait to see you again. "Just...be prepared to be introduced to the whole town. Texas cowboys are bigger gossips than any old church lady you've ever met in your entire damn life."

She shakes her head. “Then how the hell did Javier Peña come from there?” She demands, well aquatinted with his tendency to play his cards very close to the vest. “That man is the worst at giving you pertinent information.”

"Oh, I didn't say it would be useful information." It makes you laugh to think about the way Chucho and Javi's uncles would sit around on the porch with cigars and gossip - only then to drive over to the feed store and do it all over again. "But if you want to know who skipped church, who got hauled in for a night in the drunk tank, or what happened at the Parks's monthly potluck, then we can get you answers."

“Whenever you want to go.” She agrees, eager to see the hometown that made Javier Peña the man he was today. Plus it would be interesting to watch you see it for the first time in years.

"Well...I'm unemployed now and my former employer is technically in possession of my shit, so I think it will be soon as long as you can get away from the comuna for a little while." You don't want to just up and drag Connie away from the life she's built for herself here, understanding now more than ever how important her roots are. "I-I really appreciate it, Con. I can't really explain properly how much it means to me that you've been such a good friend so fast."

She reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s been a saving Grace.” She admits quietly. “I love the people and the country, but I’m also homesick.” Having you here helped a lot. More than she could describe because you also understood more about the realities of what was happening than the typists in the embassy.

"Do you want to stop somewhere else in the States while we're there?" The beautiful earrings fit neatly with the simple dress and for just a second you worry that it might be too simple and Javi won't like it - but that's just the nerves talking and you shake it off. "I mean...I've got nothing but time and the travel is all on me, since I'm the one asking you for this favour. It would be a bitch move to ask you to do this with me and then make you pay."

She makes a face at you in the mirror, obviously thinking your reasoning is bullshit. "Since you're unemployed, I will pay my own way." She insists. "As long as we can make it our goal to stop at the most obnoxious roadside attractions we can find. That way when we call Steve and Javi at night, we can gloat about visiting the largest rubber band ball in the world."

Unemployed. You swallow the word with a guilt sigh and nod. You haven’t been unemployed since you were fifteen, driving fence posts for Chucho on the ranch. And it’s bout that there is anything wrong with changing careers, but it’s how it happened that you hate. “Okay. I’m pretty sure the world’s largest cowboy boots are still in the road in Texas. We can give the guys shit about having small feet.” You nod again, surer this time, and turn to face Connie again so she can fix your hair a little better than you can on your own. “When we get back, I’m hoping Noonan will let me take civilian work at the embassy.”

"I'm sure that he will." Connie smirks and gives you a saucy wink. "Maybe you can be completely cliché and be Javier’s secretary." She teases.

You snort, letting it roll into an amused giggle. “I’d have to invest in some short skirts and start learning to keep my blouses unbuttoned,” you joke, thinking about how often Javi would have your panties in his desk if you worked outside his door.

Connie snickers. “Javi would always be in the office if you were there. Although he might be punching the other assholes when they hit on you.”

“I can do my own punching.” You roll your eyes at her, but tbh e smirk on your face says you do actually enjoy when your very-soon-now husband gets a little overly macho on your behalf. It’s just nice to feel wanted like that. “I guess I’ve just never really had my own time as an adult to think about what I want to do. Once we left Laredo…when…you know. Anyway, after that my only goal was the Army. I never thought about what I would do when I got out.”

“What does Javier say about it?” Connie asks seriously, sure that’s the two of you had talked about it during the night. While he didn’t seem like a planner, he was, and he also was surprisingly good at understanding women. Which was one of the reasons he was good at getting them to jump into bed with him.

“He says I should do what makes me happy.” All of last night had been spent in each other’s arm, whether it was talking things out between you, giving Pops a call to let him know the good part of the news, or fucking away the stress and tension of the day until you were boneless and exhausted in bed. The subject of what next had ended up being harder than expected to pin down, and that kind of indecision has never sat well with you. “We talked about me finding something decent here to keep myself busy, basically. And using my extra time to plan for when we go home. The trouble is, I don’t really know what I want. I know what teenage me wanted, but I don’t know if grown-ass me still wants it.” Digging into the meager makeup kit on your bureau when you replace the hairbrush, you hold up all two shades of lipstick you own for Connie to choose which she likes more. You trust her taste, and right now it’s the least important decision on your mind. “We…we think we’re going to wait to have kids until we get back to the States. It’s just too dangerous here.”

Connie’s smile tightens slightly, it not quite reaching her eyes. “I can’t wait to see Javi as a dad.” She tells you truthfully. Her own issues with infertility weren’t a conversation to be had right now. There was still the hope it would happen. And she would be thrilled for you if it did happen for you. “I can see that.”

“He used to talk about wanting a whole little Army all our own.” Back then, it had definitely been Javi’s preferred army and you have a feeling it still would be. “He’s really so much more emotional that he lets on…I know that’s hard to believe.”

“Jesus. He wanted a ton of kids?” She shakes her head, unable to compare the Javier she knows to the one you are describing. “I know he’s emotional. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t care. He’s put his ass on the line for what’s right a few times since I’ve known him.”

“I think at one point I had to tell him that if he wanted seven kids then he was going to have to grow his own uterus.” You snort at the memory, grinning when she points to the soft, pink lipstick in your left hand.

“Seven?!” She can’t help but giggle at the image of Javi surrounded by seven kids hanging on him. “You know….I can kind of see it. He has his moments were he’s carefree.”

“Seven is not going to happen.” As the one who will be beating said children, you’re definitely putting your foot down at that high of a number. “But that ranch…well, you’ll see it. It was made for a family.”

“I don’t know. Four boys with his dimple when he smiles and your hair. Three little girls with your eyes and his sense of humor.” Connie teases. “They would run that town.”

“Oh god, don’t encourage him.” You roll your eyes in exasperation but the soft fondness is there. The willingness. You’re not saying you want to give birth to a brood, but if it happened by accident would that be so bad? No. Not at all. “We used to say we’d be running the sheriff’s department and the kids would be running the school from the inside. But I mean, we were kids then ourselves. What the hell did we know?”

"It seems like you knew exactly what you wanted, considering sixteen years later I am rushing you through getting ready on your wedding day." Connie tells you knowingly. "You look perfect. He's going to love you. Well, I mean, he already does." She rolls her eyes at herself and laughs.

“Connie…” You’ve been keeping still while she applies just a tiny bit of eye makeup to your face, but your surge forward again and pull her into a tight huff as soon as she’s put the cosmetics down. “Thank you. For everything. Seriously. I—I have a hard time making new friends sometimes and it feels like I’ve known you and Steve for years already.”

"You do not have to thank me." Connie tells you as she hugs you back. "We are going to be friends for years to come. No matter what happens after they catch Escobar."

“Yes we are.” Her certainty bolsters you, and you sniffle back the moment of emotional overload with a smile. “Let’s go get the necklace and then go find a ring for my husband.”

Quickly agreeing, the two of you make your way down to the apartment she shares with Steven and opens the door. "Come on to the bedroom, the necklace is in there."

You’ve spent plenty of time in the Murphy’s apartment in the last few weeks, so you could probably follow her with your eyes closed. Now that you’ve left your own place though, you’re starting to feel the reality of the day truly hit you. Connie’s soft floral dress is the one she will be wearing when she stands up beside you as your maid of honour. The little glimpse of yourself you catch in the mirror above her vanity is what you look like as a bride. It’s surreal, and exciting, and a little bit magical.

Reaching her small jewelry box, she opens it with a smile and pulls out the string of pearls. There are perfectly aged and the clasp is slightly patinaed. "These, ironically enough, were my grandma Pearl's." She tells you as she turns around and opens the lobster claw clasp. "My grandpa always bought her pearls, although he said he could never find any that matched her beauty."

“Your grandpa knew a thing your two about paying a girl a compliment.” Turning your back to her, you exhale softly as Connie fastens the heirloom necklace around your neck. The name makes you pause, though, and smile to yourself. “I always liked the name Ruby,” you muse, knowing how dreamy you sound about it. “Sorry, I just…it made me think of old-fashioned names. Gemstone names always sound old fashioned. Pearl, Ruby, Opal…”

"Ruby Peña sounds like the perfect name for a little girl." She murmurs. "You look perfect. So lets get you married so you can make babies when you are ready." Your wedding preparation is far more relaxed than hers and Connie thinks that she prefers it that way. Rather than the stress of dealing with family, you are able to enjoy your love.

“I know, I’m getting ahead of myself.” You smooth your hands down the long sweater you are wearing over your wedding dress and shift your purse between your hands. “I just…after everything, I still don’t quite believe it’s actually happening.”

“Well, let’s go find a ring for Javier and get to the Embassy so it can happen.” She pauses. “Do you know his ring size?”

“I had him try on some of my jewelry last night.” It had been one of those strokes of genius, as you cuddled together after a second round of sex - and you had had him try on the few variously sized rings you have in your jewelry box. Digging in to the small purse you packed last night, you pull out a thumb ring you’ve had since college. “No idea what size this is, but it fits him perfectly. I’m hoping it’s enough to have this with us at the jeweler’s.”

“You are a genius.” Connie rolls her eyes and propels you towards the door. “I fucked up Steve’s ring and it didn’t fit in front of 100 guests.” She cringes as she remembers how embarrassed she was when it wouldn’t fit in his fat finger, finally sliding it on his pinkie for the ceremony.

“David’s sister had a spreadsheet for the morning of our wedding,” you admit as Connie steers you out toward the hall. “I’ve never seen anyone more organized in my entire life, it was unreal. I froze up on my vows in front of their entire huge family and everybody we served with and she just appeared at my side with a notecard like she had expected it would happen the whole time. So…after that, I try to plan like Joanne when things are important.”

“Well I love that this is impromptu.” She tells you, steering you out the door and turning around to lock it. “Oh my god.” She turns to you with a grin. “I just realized this will be Javi first wedding.” She nearly cackles. “I bet he’s so nervous right now.”

“He was a wreck all morning.” You practically scamper down the steps to the front door of the apartment building. “I consider it my first kind act as his wife that I pretended not to notice.”

Her giggles follow you. “I bet he didn’t even eat.” The bronco sits in its parking spot and Connie unlocks your door. “Not that he really does, half the time he tells me he had a slice of toast.”

“He’s smoking less and eating more.” It’s the only time you don’t mind making him feel a tiny bit guilty - reminding him of how bad smoking is for his health. Fewer cigarettes now means more years together in the long run. You climb into the car and buckle up as Connie pulls out into the streets of Bogotá like the woman on a mission she absolutely is. “The plan is to go out for lunch somewhere fancy after the wedding and then lock ourselves in the apartment for a couple of days.”

“Give me your keys.” Connie demands, driving with one hand and holding the one closest to you out expectantly. “Steve and I will get you two some easily consumed snacks for the honeymoon at home.” She is already plotting candles and flowers and fat, juicy strawberries for her friends to come home to.

“Yes ma’am.” You know an order when you hear one, and you also know better than to argue with Connie when she sets herself on an idea. You drop your keys into her palm with a satisfying jingle. “My goal is to send him back to work the most relaxed he’s been in years. A couple of days at home will do him wonders.”

Connie snorts. “Poor man’s going to go back to work exhausted.” She teases. “We are used to hearing noises coming from Javi’s apartment but they’ve been so much more consistent since you’ve moved in.”

“There’s sixteen years to make up for.” You won’t even pretend to be embarrassed. Javi was always eager to please when you were younger and now he’s eager to show you what he’s learned since then. For your part, you’ve been equally eager to make every moment between you memorable. “If he is a little tired? At least he’ll be very pampered and very well taken care of, too.”

“Hell, Steve’s jealous of that smug, satisfied smile on Javi’s face every morning.” Connie admits, having taken your keys and slipping them into her purse. “It’s made him a bit competitive.” She giggles.

“Then is it you’re welcome instead of saying sorry?” You ask, flashing her a grin as she turns right through an intersection.

“Mhm.” Connie grins right back at you before she turns her attention to parking in front of a small jeweler.

“Glad to hear it.” The image of Steve taking pleasure as competition isn’t too hard to conjure and it makes you laugh as you get out of the car.

Connie leads you into the store and greets the older man behind the counter, looking up from where he is polishing a stone. “Buenos días. Buscamos el anillo de bodas de un hombre.” Good morning. We are looking for a man's wedding ring.

“Ah, Señora Murphy.” He offers her a broad smile and nods to you in turn, switching to English with his heavy Bogotá accent making everything sound a little bit smoother around the edges. “Your husband and Señor Peña left here perhaps two minutes ago. It is an exciting day.”

Connie grins. “You did make sure he bought me something as well, right?” She teases, making him laugh and shake his head. “They were much too concerned with getting the rings and then flowers for Señor Peña’s beautiful bride.”

“There wouldn’t happen to be a matching band for whatever Javier picked out, would there?” Call It an old-fashioned notion, but the idea of you and Javier having matching wedding rings makes your heart skip. “Sadly not, señora.” The older man shakes his head at you this time. “But I can show you things that are close, if you like. And of course, the few things that Señor Peña looked at himself when he was not worrying over finding you something magnífico.”

That makes Connie raise her brow. The idea of Javier looking at jewelry for himself was completely foreign to her. “Would you mind showing us those?” She asks him, known you want something he will love.

It takes longer than you had hoped, if you’re honest with yourself, but you only have yourself to blame. The reality of purchasing even just a small ring that Javi will hopefully be wearing every day for the rest of his life makes you panic perceptibly. Thankfully the gentleman who owns the shop is genuinely lovely and helpful, finding the story of Javi and your romance to be something worth celebrating.

“Okay, let’s get you to the church - err, embassy.” Connie flashes you a grin as you pile back into the truck.

******

“You remembering to breathe?” Steve raises an amused eyebrow at Javier as he paces in the hall outside Ambassador Noonan’s office.

“Breathing, barely.” Javi straightens his suit jacket again and reaches in his pocket for the ring to check to make sure some hole didn’t open up in his pants and the ring fell out. It was only his twelfth time checking that exactly same scenario. “They’re late.” He huffs. “God it would be a fucking bolt of irony for her to leave me at the ‘altar’ like I left Lorraine.”

“She’s not going to leave you.” The shaking of Steve’s head is practically audible, like a bobble-head doll of reassurance. “She quit the Army for you. They’re probably just stuck in traffic.”

“I still can’t believe she did that.” Javi sighs and rubs his cheek before he checks his watch again. He’s got that same nervous energy he has when he’s waiting on a op to start, he’s never claimed to be a patient man.

“Me either.” Crossing his arms, Steve leans back against the wall and watches the elevator out of the corner of his eye. The light above it just lit up again - hopefully that’s you and Connie finally. “I always thought she was the sensible one out of the two of you.”

“Fuck off.” Javier tosses a halfhearted glare at him. “She loves me, and fuck knows I would do anything for her.”

“You know what you’re going to say?” He doesn’t even raise an eyebrow at Javier’s glare, just continues down the list of necessary things in his head.

Javi huffs. “We’re being married by the ambassador. What I’m going to say is ‘I do’.”

Steve doesn’t have time to argue with him about tossing in an extra sentence or two to make it slightly more personal, because the elevator opens to let you and Connie out of the car. “I told you,” he grins, watching Javier light up like the sun. “She’s just fine.”

He doesn't answer, just rushes down the hall to meet you halfway. "You look- fuck, Gacelita, you look so beautiful." He murmurs, pulling you into his arms and kissing you. Not giving one damn that you are technically in the middle of an Embassy hallway and there are people walking by, rubbernecking at the sight.

“You don’t look too bad, yourself.” It actually looks like Steve straightened him out a little, and somehow they ended up in matching ties? You’re not going to question it - basically not caring about a single damn thing except that Javi is here and this is happening. The people slowing down and doing double takes around you don’t concern you in the least.

He sighs softly and nudges his nose against yours before he pulls back and stares into your eyes. "Are you ready to do this?" He asks, wanting to make sure it's what you really want.

“Been ready.” You promise him, lacing your fingers through his to take his hand. “Sixteen years and counting.”

He hums and turns you towards the ambassador's office, walking you up to Steve while Connie walks beside you. Steve offers you the bouquet of flowers Javi had picked out from the corner florist.

“Trade.” You grin at Steve and hand him your camera - freshly loaded with new film - when he gives you the beautiful orchids and roses. It may just be the four of you instead of the barn being full of half of Laredo, but you want to at least have a few photos. Connie already has your sweater and now your purse, too, and you squeeze Javi’s hand excitedly. This is finally it.

Steve takes the camera and grins at Connie. "You got her here without being so late that Peña sent out Search Bloc for the two of you. But it was close." Connie rolls her eyes at her husband and leans in for a kiss. "This tie wasn't what you were wearing earlier." She hums, fingering the silk.

“We had time to kill while the florist was making her flowers and after picking out her ring.” Steve hums back. “I managed to talk the fashion-conscious groom down from panicking about his suit, but new ties happened.” He chuckles, watching Javi adjust his subtly after he knocks on the ambassador’s door. “He wants everything to be perfect for her. It’s sweet.”

Noonan calls for you to enter, prompting Javi to open the door and huff. There are at least twenty people crammed into the ambassador's office. Messina he had anticipated, but the others were a surprise. He frowns and looks to the ambassador, wondering if he had interrupted a meeting. "Uh, sir?"

“Some of folks around the building wanted to pass on their well wishes.” Noonan half-shrugs but there is an amused smile on his face. “Apparently you haven’t scared everyone off yet.”

Javi huffs and looks around for a moment before he pulls you close to him. "I guess we won't be lacking in witnesses." He murmurs, watching you carefully to make sure you weren't upset. If you were, he would ask all of them to leave without a moment's hesitation.

“Then I guess I’m glad that you found such beautiful flowers.” You whisper back, making sure he knows there’s not a single thing in the world that is going to stop this wedding from happening right now. Your father could storm the embassy and all you would do at this point is say ‘I do’ louder. “I don’t mind, baby. It’s just more people who get to see how much I love you.”

Javi squeezes your hip and gives you a small smile. "Let's get married then." He murmurs softly, turning towards Noonan and walking closer to him. "We put the paperwork on your desk last night." He tells the ambassador.

“I have it.” He holds up the folder from his desk and aims it gently in the direction of one of the young ladies from reception. “And Miss McCormick will take the signed and notarized papers to be filled when we’re done.” He raises an uncharacteristically playful eyebrow at you and tilts his head. “Last chance to run, Marcello.” You huff a soft laugh and shake your head, squeezing Javi’s hand. “Not a chance in hell, sir. In five minute’s time there will be two Peñas and that’s just how we want it.”

Noonan nods and looks around the room. "We will keep it brief and there will be no objections." He tells them, not willing to draw this out any longer than necessary because some secretary he fucked thought Javier Peña was her soulmate. "The two of you come stand over by the flags." He moves around the desk, holding the small bible he carried for personal use in his hands. Just because he was a sometimes tactless man, didn't mean he didn't read the Bible.

You’re not proud of how you practically blank out the ambassador’s voice as he begins the standard ceremony. Maybe because it isn’t the first time you‘ve done this, you aren’t hanging on every word all over again. This time - standing beside Javier with your fingers tangled together and a dozen or more pairs of eyes on you in an office 2,000 miles from the last place you called home - all you can seem to do is stare hopelessly to Javier’s eyes and try not to cry with sheer joy.

Oftentimes when Noonan was talking, he was leveling veiled criticism at Javi and the others when they are sitting around a desk. This time, however, he is hanging on to every word, even if he is lost in your eyes. His fingers squeeze yours and he gives you a small smile when you miss the ambassador's question. "Baby?"

“I absolutely do.” It’s the simplest answer you’ve ever given to the most important question in the world, and it’s also the floodgates that let out a few heavy tears. It’s just that you’ve spent almost your entire adult life dreaming about this and it’s finally here.

Javi reaches up and brushes your tears away while Noonan asks him the same question. His hand on your cheek, resting softly, he smiles at you. "I do. Always." He answers the ambassador, knowing that it always has been you, always will be you. There is no question about that.

A few dreamy sighs are heard in the room and you wish like hell you could kiss him already. “The rings?” The ambassador asks expectantly, and the Murphy’s take a step closer to you and Javi respectively to hand over the bands.

Connie hands you the ring you had picked out and Steve gives Javi the ring that he had handed to him right before they had walked into the ambassador's office. Javi smiles when he catches sight of a ring that he had looked at in the shop. He nervously hopes that you like the ring that he had picked out.

You repeat the words after the Ambassador, nothing more complicated than “With this ring, I thee wed.” But it’s still enough to make you shake a little as you slip the gold band onto his finger. The jeweler has promised it was one of the rings Javier had looked at himself and that it would be a compliment to the one he had bought for you, and you just pray that he actually likes it.

There is a moment were all he can do is stare down at the ring on his finger with pride for a moment. He holds your finger steady while your hand is in his other hand, holding it steady. "With this ring, I thee wed." He sighs in slight relief when it fits perfectly even though he knew your ring size. Brushing his thumb over the metal as he looks up at you with a grin.

“By the power vested in me the Republic of Colombia and the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The expression on Noonan’s face is slightly bemused and incredulous, but the two of you seem both determined and genuinely happy, so what else really matters? “You may kiss your bride,” he tells Javier, still disbelieving that he has just not only witnessed but officiated the notorious Javier Peña’s wedding.

Javi gathers you close and forgets everyone else in the room when he presses his lips to yours. Closing his eyes and pouring himself into the kiss with his brand new bride and the love of his life. Finally being where he's wanted to be with you since he was eighteen years old and now, he finally has it.

The whole world falls away when Javier kisses you. It always does, but this time is sort of like floating on a cloud. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, holding him to you for just a moment longer before you break out into a wide grin against his lips and reluctantly pull away. “I love you so much.” Such simple words to say, but when they’re whispered against his lips they make you feel giddy-to-bursting.

"Mr. and Mrs. Peña." Noonan announces and the room starts to applaud while Javi pulls you close and gives a small grin to everyone, rolling his eyes when Steve puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly.

“Finally.” You hum softly in Javi’s ear from your place in his arms.

"Finally." Javi agrees as he turns back to the ambassador. There is the annoying thing like actually signing the marriage certificate to do, in order for this to be really official.

A few signatures and a few pictures later, you grin as you shake the ambassador’s hand and give Connie a tight hug. There is no stuffy, formal reception this time or long lecture from the priest who has challenged whether or not you should be wearing white multiple times. There are no relatives to perform for. Of course - there are no relatives of any kind. Despite being pissed at her, Vanessa is still your sister and you do love her, so it stings to not have her here. But since she was the reason your father showed up yesterday, well, you’ve made your peace with not having your family by your side when you marry the love of your life. It just means you’ll be extra glad to call Pops tonight and let him know how everything went.

Javier guides you out of the office after shaking Noonan's hand. He's been given until Monday with you and he intends to make the most of it. "Let's go to lunch and then we will lock ourselves in our apartment for the rest of the week." He murmurs in your ear.

“Connie has my keys.” You’re practically nuzzled into his side, refusing to be any more than a few inches away if at all possible like the sap you are. “They’re going to do a little snack shopping and leave the stuff in our place while we’re at lunch.”

"That's perfect." Javi stops and turns to where the Murphys are trailing behind the two of you. "Thank you both." He tells them. "For everything."

“You don’t have to thank us.” Connie insists, echoing what she had told you earlier. Repeatedly. She gives you back your jacket and purse with your camera tucked safely inside but insists on taking your flowers to put in some water at your apartment. “Go have a beautiful meal and then lock yourselves up for a few days.”

“We will.” Javi looks at Steve seriously. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” He warns his partner.

“I’m gonna get so much work done without you bitching and growling that Messina won’t let you come back.” Steve teases, smacking Javi’s arm playfully when he shakes the other man’s hand once more. “Seriously, get the hell out of here. We’ll be fine.”

Javier walks you out of the Embassy, trying to ignore the applause and congratulations as much as possible. The fucking phones must have been ringing off the hook as soon as people rushed from the ambassadors office. He nods but doesn’t stop, steering you towards the door.

Out in the sidewalk, no one gives you a second glance as you walk through the parking lot to Javi’s car hand-in-hand. “I’m sorry your dad couldn’t be here,” You tell him quietly, knowing that Pops is the one family member you would have truly wanted to share this with.

“Don’t worry about that. When we get a chance to go back to Texas, I’m sure he will organize a barbecue or something.” He chuckles.

“Connie said yes to my road trip idea.” It tears you up inside that it can’t be him who goes back with you, and am you slip one arm around his waist to hold him tighter as you walk. “I’ll bring him some pictures from today.”

“Thank you.” He loves that you are thinking about his dad. You always loved his parents. “Pops will love it.”

You both slip into the car easily, and you don’t hesitate to lean across the center console to kiss him. It’s a simple little thing, but you know that he’s glad to be away from so many prying of prying eyes. “It’s the least I can do for my father-in-law.”

"Pops has always thought of you as a daughter." Javi turns the key and looks over at you with a grin. "In a 'she's definitely sleeping with my son' kind of way."

“Your parents looked the other way a lot when we were teenagers.” As an adult, You can absolutely recognize and acknowledge that his parents gave you leeway and freedom that you could never have dreamt of. “I mean, they literally paid me to help fix up the barn we lost our virginities in.”

"I got my ass chewed about that." Javi admits with a shake of his head and chuckle. He deeps his voice to sound like his father. "Tu primera vez debería ser en una cama, mijo'." (Your first time should be in a bed, son.)

“Seriously?” You can’t help the laugh of surprise in your voice. “Not what are you doing fucking your girlfriend you’re both sixteen years old? You never told me that.”

"I knew you would never be able to look my parents in the eyes again." Javi tells you truthfully. He had thought about it, but you loved spending time with his mom and even his dad while you were in Laredo. "Pops and Ma couldn't really talk. They were around the same age when they started fooling around."

“Did you at least tell them it was my idea?” Fingers tangled together, you hold Javier’s hand as he pulls the car out into the main road toward the restaurant.

"You honestly think I'd still be breathing if my pops had the slightest inkling I pressured you into sex?" Javi asks you, squeezing your hand and thinking back to the very serious conversations he had with his pops about sex and respect. He was raised that it was the woman's choice, always.

“That’s a solid point.” You giggle lightly and place a kiss on the back of his hand. “I have a feeling I’m going to be fending off the grandkids conversation when I go up there. Your Pops was made to be an abuelo.” That any kids you do have down the line won’t know either of their grandmothers or their Grandpa stings more than you can say. Thank god they’ll have abuelo Chucho.

"That man has probably already brought out the family cradle." He rolls his eyes but he's smothering a grin. "You will have to burst his bubble."

“He’s just going to have to wait until we move back.” The short conversation you had with Connie about it earlier is still rolling pleasantly in your head, making you grin happily. “But even that will make him moan and pout at me about how he’s not getting any younger.”

Javi huffs, rolling his eyes. "He's going to outlive us all. I'm sure of it." He jokes, hoping that there are still years to be had with his father. He wants him around for his grandchildren when they happen.

“Yes he will.” Outside your windows, the other cars seem to part for you to pass through without effort - a thing that never happens in Bogotoá this close to midday. You’re both quiet for most of the drive, enjoying the music on the radio and absorbing the reality this morning has given you. You’re married. Actually, finally, legally married. And though it happened much more suddenly than you’d anticipated, you still can’t help the dreamy sigh that escapes your lips. “We did it, baby…”

"Yes we did." Javi is proud of that, especially considering just a month ago you had been a memory he wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole unless you popped up into his mind unbidden. Considering he had been so damn angry after the shock of seeing you again had worn off. "No regrets."

“None.” You lift his hand to your lips again to kiss his knuckles and grin against his skin. “El amor de mi vida.”

"Do you like your ring?" He asks quietly, worried that you might not care for it. "I - eventually I will get you an engagement ring, but I just wanted a pretty ring to put on your finger today."

“Honey, it’s gorgeous.” It’s not worth protesting that the beautiful gold band with its intricate borders and engraved flowers doesn’t need anything to make it special - if Javi has already decided that he wants to pair it with something then nothing you say is going to stop him. “To be honest? If I had gone with you, this is probably what I would have picked.” Your thumb gently runs along the edge of his ring in turn. “And now I know why the shop owner steered me to this one for you. When he said they matched but not all the way, I didn’t quite get it. It’s the borders. Your ring has the same pattern as mine on the edges.”

Javi admires the ring you hand put on his hand less than twenty minutes before, resting on the steering wheel and glinting in the sunlight. "I wish you had seen the first ring I picked out for you. It was pretty. I imagined it on your finger - must have been a thousand times."

“Tell me about it?” If you could roll back the click sixteen years and convince him to just hang onto it, you would. You would be a stranger who convinced him to keep dreaming, just for this morning’s sake.

"It had seven tiny diamond in it." He tells you, thinking about the find he had picked out. "In the shape of a flower. One in the center and six in each petal. Silver in the center and gold for the band." He wishes he could describe it better but he doesn't have the words. He just knew when he had seen it, it was the ring he wanted you to wear. "I- it was prettier than I can describe. Fit you perfectly. Made me think of you."

“It sounds like they match.” What he’s describing sounds like a perfect compliment to the band on your finger, and you lean over to kiss him as he parks the car in the restaurant’s lot. “Which makes them both perfect choices, whether they exist together or not.”

Javi parks and looks over at you. "Ready to have our first meal as husband and wife?" He asks softly. He had chosen a nicer restaurant than he normally would have if it was just an ordinary day. He wanted it to be memorable for you.

“Are you gonna get embarrassed if I tell people?” You flash him a playful grin before you both climb out of the car. You’re excited to finally be able to marry him and fully aware that you’ll probably blurt it out to people who couldn’t care less just because you’re bubbling over with that newlywed pride.

"Hell no." Javi is proud to call you his wife, and he rounds the front of the jeep so he can put his hand around your waist.

“Just had to check. Before I start waving my ring around and talking e every single person we see.” There isn’t a single moment’s hesitation when he leans in to kiss you in front of the car and it feels so freeing.

Javi chuckles against your lips and reluctantly pulls away from you so he can hold the door open. "Mrs. Peña." He smirks as he waves you into the restaurant in front of him.

“Gracias, Señor Peña.” You grin back at him as you saunter past, even in the demure white dress, you can still sway your hips.

Javi whistles between his teeth and shakes his head as he follows you in and up to the host stand. "Peña." He tells the pretty girl, not even paying attention to how attractive the young woman is, only having eyes for you.

“Sígueme.” (Follow me.) The hostess simply smiles, either amused at Javier ogling you or just grateful not to be ogled herself. She leads you back through the main dining room toward a more private area, where you can see one if the tables marked with a little reservation sign and a special centerpiece of followers set at one of the booth tables. It makes you melt, aww-ing out loud when you realize Javi must have already told the restaurant that this meal was special when He made reservation last night. “Amor de mi vida,” you repeat in his ear when you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Gracias, baby.”

"It's our wedding day." He huffs, his ears burning slightly at the obvious praise. It was funny how easy you can fluster him, making him feel like that sixteen-year-old boy again, but he doesn't mind it. "Of course it needs to be special. I know it's not the day you imagined, but it's ours."

“It’s perfect.” You promise him, taking off your sweater before you reach the booth so you can slide in easily. “I’ve done the Big White Wedding thing, baby. It’s not our style.” This - this less formal and less performative version of the day is so much more authentic, in your opinion. Personal decisions made by the two of you and just for the two of you. Your day, just like he said.

He's relieved by your approval and he unbuttons his jacket to sit down when someone across the floor catches his eye and makes him pause. Staring for a second before a smirk rides his face, he sits down and chuckles at the irony of all the places in Bogatá. "Fucking hell." He sits down and looks over at you and wonders if this will ruin your day.

“What?” That tone in his voice is never an indicator of something good, and you follow his eyes across the small section of tables to the other corner maybe six or eight feet away. “Fucking hell.” The same words come out of your mouth in a near growl as you instantly stand back up to cross the floor in no more than four determined strides. The woman at the table is facing you - all charming smiles and coquettish giggles - glancing up at your approach with only mild interest. The man next to her, though, doesn’t turn until you speak. “Decided to stay an extra night in Bogotá? Enjoy the local culture with all four words of Spanish you know?”

Javier almost giggles as he walks up and realizes who is with your father. A big grin, not a particularly nice one is on his face as he walks up beside you. The general looks up, eyes narrowing at Javier and then he looks down to your left hand. “So you did it?” He sneers, at least four drinks in by the way his voice slurs slightly.

“We were doing it when we were sixteen.” You snort, unable to resist telling him something you know will piss him off just that much more. “But if you mean did we get married? Then, yes. We did that also.” Javier snorts softly beside you and it would usually make you smirk if you weren’t so mad. “What the fuck are you still doing here?” Whatever it is, it’s clearly not apologizing to his firstborn.

“I met Carma- Carmalita at the airport and decided that I needed the clear my head before I go back.” The general lifts his old fashioned up. “Bury the memory of the legacy I was leaving.” Javier snorts again, the woman beside the general looking over at him with wide eyes. Sending him a message.

“Please tell me you overcharged him?” The question is quiet enough that no one around will hear, but you’ve met enough of Javi’s informants now to be able to remember their faces even briefly. You’ve seen this woman before - leaving your apartment one night when you were coming back from work. She hadn’t avoided your eyes and you respected the hell out of her for it. Everybody has to work, what the fuck do you care if some random woman has chosen sex work over some other kind? Now, though, you have a mixed reaction barely purely on the gross-put factor that it’s your father. “I’m the legacy he’s burying, by the way.”

She grins and nods, giving Javier the perfect excuse to intervene. “She spotted a American military uniform, of course she overcharged. Didn’t you, Vanessa?” He chuckles, waiting for the name to register with both you and your father.

Your head practically whips over to Javi beside you, eyebrows raised. “This is Vanessa?” She’s been mentioned a few times by both him and Steve in talking about work, but you never had a face to go with the name. Now, though? Now you not only have a face but a whole new level of awkward.

The general practically spits his mouthful of whiskey out, rounding on Vanessa so fast that Javi tenses, ready to spring into action if he so much as touches her. “You - you said your name is Carmelita!”

“Yeah, Dad, of course she did.” You wouldn’t have given your real name to an American military officer either, if you were her. “She has a right to protect herself.” When Vanessa looks worried, you try for what you hope is a reassuring shake of your head. “My little sister’s name is also Vanessa. You’ve just given him a psycho-sexual complex that will last far longer than your memory of any of this.”

Javi chuckles and shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips. “You’ve done it now, general.” He taunts the older man. “Imagine if it got back to Washington that some Colombian escort talked about how an American general wanted sex with a woman with the same name as his daughter?”

“If I were you, I would pay for lunch, leave a nice big tip for your companion, and pour yourself into a cab directly for the airport. And don’t make friends this time.” Maybe it’s a little severe, to laugh at your father when he’s upset - but after a lifetime of being under his control, it feels like beautiful catharsis. “Not only did you fail in getting me away from Javi, Dad? But you also screwed yourself in the process.”

The general recoils from Vanessa and springs up out of the booth, frantically pulling bills out of his pockets and letting them fall on the table before he staggers towards the door.

“Sorry.” You murmur to Vanessa, feeling yourself deflate as you watch your father practically flee the restaurant. There is absolutely nothing good about this situation and she unfortunately got stuck in the middle of your family bullshit.

Vanessa shakes her head and plucks the bills up from the table. "Do not worry." She tells you in English. "I was looking to get rid of him anyway."

"Well...we definitely did that for you." Huffing under your breath, you watch Vanessa count out a few bills to leave behind on the table before nodding to Javier and heading for the door of the restaurant herself. "Fuck off." You groan, wrapping your arms around him and inhaling his comforting presence to try to ground yourself again. "That was...interesting."

"I'm sorry baby." Javier rubs your back and hates that you upset. "Although it's a little funny." He huffs quietly after a moment.

"It'll be a little funny once I get over being grossed out by my father having literally any kind of a sex life." You shudder for effect, if only to try to make the thing amusing by way of irony. "I don't think I ever even saw my parents kiss, let alone anything else."

"Once he sobers up, he's going to realize that not only did he have sex with a woman who is name Vanessa, but-" Javi pulls away and gives you a shit eating grin. "He had sex with a woman that I slept with first, after having slept with his other daughter years before."

"Weird, weird, weird." Nudging him back to your reserved table, you grimace comically and make a grossed out sound. "I don't want to think about the fact that my husband and my father have an overlapping body count."

"I hope he sobers up and realizes it in time to puke in an airplane toilet." Javi jokes, sitting back down and reaching for your hand. "Now we are going to forget about him."

"About who?" You paint an innocent expression on your face and lean into Javier's side as you sit down in the booth with him. "I just said the words my husband out loud about you. That's all I'm thinking about now."

"Oh really?" He hums in approval and tucks you against his side, happy you decides to sit beside him instead of across from him. "Let's think about food and then we can go home and shut out the entire world."

"The only thing I know about this place is their cazuela de mariscos is supposed to be amazing." There's no need to even look at the menu, that's how legendary this particular rendition of the seafood stew is supposed to be, and you're far more interested in the man beside you than mulling over two pages of lunch options.

"Then that's what we will have and I'll even drink wine with you." He smirks, knowing you will appreciate him drinking that with you instead of his normal whiskey.

"It is a special occasion." At home it's rum and whiskey, or beer if Steve is coming over. "I think the last time you drank wine with me was my seventeenth birthday." He'd strung the barn with fairy lights and set up a beautiful picnic dinner with a bottle of wine that he later confessed Pops had given him for the occasion. It was beautiful - taking your breath away after the stuffy 'family party' your parents had thrown at home which had conspicuously excluded your boyfriend of nearly two years.

He thinks about it and nods. "It checks out." He gives you a grin and wink. "I think it might be the last time I drank wine."

You roll your eyes at him, picking up the wine list just in time for your waitress to appear. After a little back and forth, you order a bottle that will compliment your food. She has apparently been briefed by the hostess that you are celebrating your wedding and passes along the well-wishes of the rest of the staff before telling you that the pastry chef has prepared a special dessert for two as well.

Picking up your hand, Javi presses a kiss to the back of it. "I love you, mi esposa, my wife." He grins. "I don't know if I'm going to get tired of saying that for a long time."

"Please never get tired of it." It's a fairly good bet that you'll never get tired of hearing it, either. "I don't care if I go a year without you referring to me by name. Just as long as I'm always your wife."

He snorts and shakes his head. "You want me to call you mi esposa when I'm calling for you to bring me a roll of toilet paper after you use the last of it and don't replace it?" He asks in amusement.

"Yes." You nod with authority rather than give in to a ridiculous scenario. "That is clearly what I want to happen."

"Then that's whats going to happen." He just goes with it, grinning at the prospect of shouting out that he needs toilet paper or any other normal or mundane task that happens in life. He can't wait.

“Just know that I’ll be asking mi esposo to finish folding the laundry or bring me a glass of water in bed just as often.” And it will be a positive thrill every single time. “I love you, Javi. So fucking much.”

"I love you too." He murmurs, leaning and pressing his lips against yours. "And I fucking hate folding laundry." He grumbles, even though he knows it's part of life.

“There’s less of it then there would be since you never wear underwear,” you remind him with a smirk. “Or was that the entire strategy to begin with?”

He sends you a small wink. "Also why I don't wear undershirts."

You dissolve into amused giggles just as the waitress arrives with the bottle of wine you ordered, pouring out two glasses and smiling at how you enjoy each other’s company before retreating again. “Steve’s going to be so disappointed.” You tease him when you can breathe again. “Turns out you haven’t been trying to seduce him with your masculine form for all this time.”

Javi huffs and shakes his head. "Not my type." He teases. "The mustache would tickle." His hand slides under the table and his hand rests on your thigh before he wraps his fingers around the meat of your thigh and squeezes playfully.

“It does sometimes.” That is something you can admit to readily, but you throw him a smirk all the same. “But I like it.”

"Of course you do." He slides his fingers up a little higher but he's not going to do anything too wicked during your wedding dinner. He will save that for when you are back home. "At least you did last night when you were cumming all over it."

The hum you give him in response is nearly filthy and you chuckle, all while sipping your wine demurely. “You begged me to so perfectly, mi esposo. I couldn’t deny you.”

He bites his lip at smirks right back at you while he lifts his glass up for a toast. "To my beautiful esposa, the love of my life and the only one I am going to make cum for the rest of my life."

“Que romántico. How romantic. The grin on your face will last for days every time he says the word, you’re sure of it. You raise your glass in turn, enjoying these private, naughty toasts. “To mi esposo maravilloso, el amor de mi vida, rey de mi corazón, and possessor of the only cock I will choke on for the rest of my life.” You throw him a wink over your glasses as they touch. “And fuck, of course.”

Javi's laugh is loud and carefree in this moment. He shakes his head and takes a sip of his wine before he sets it down on the table. "I guess my cock is extremely happy you chose him out of all the cocks in the world."

“The man attached to him is more important, but he is a very good cock.” You practically snort into your wine glass, grinning at him happily.

"I can't believe that you named my dick." Javi huffs, sending you a glower that he doesn't mean but looks impressive if it weren't for the fact that his eyes were crinkled at the corners in amusement.

“Do you have a problem with Raoul?” One eyebrow raises itself at him in amusement and you barely manage to hold back a snicker. “It’s a very dashing name and I will thank you not to disrespect such an impressive soldier.” It was the year you had read Phantom of the Opera in French class and thought you were being very clever and silly about the whole thing. “If I had known the were going to make a musical out of the thing, I promise I would have chosen something different.”

"Exactly two people know about that." He tells you with a growl. "And it better stay that way." He was still as embarrassed as he had been the first time you had cooed the nickname to his dick and to his horror, the traitorous bastard had twitched.

“Yup.” You nod a little too quickly and look a little too innocent for his liking.

"Fuuuuuuck." He doesn't whine, he doesn't, but right now his voice is a bit stretched. "Who did you tell?"

“It’s not my fault!” Honestly, it kind of is, but at the time it was hilarious. “Connie was listening to the Phantom soundtrack one time when I went over for lunch and I just couldn’t stop laughing! It spilled out!”

"Oh fuck." He hangs his head in shame. "That's it. I can never show my face to her again. Wonder why Steve hasn't busted my balls for it yet."

That just makes you snicker more. “Because…” You smother your laughter with one hand. “Because his is way worse. And I swore Connie to secrecy.”

"Oh no." Javi protests. "I know for a fact that Connie told that bastard. So tell me. You owe me."

“The Alamo.” You’re practically doubled over at the table giggling, barely keeping your shit together at how dumb it is. “Because you never forget it apparently.”

"Pendejo." He couldn't stop the snicker if he tried. "Did he pick it out or did Connie? Please tell me that fucking hillbilly picked it out himself."

“Of course he picked that himself.” The two of you in barely contained hysterics must be a sight to behold. “Connie would have picked something flowery and feminine to annoy him.”

"We-well t-thank you for not naming my dick after a fucking flower." Javi chuckles.

“You are not the kind of man who finds that funny.” Some fundamental truths about him just haven’t changed.

"You're lucky I didn't break up with you for naming my dick in the first place." He jokes, knowing that he never would have done that.

“Oh please.” You blow a raspberry at him over your glass when take another sip of wine. “You wouldn’t have lasted an hour without me back then.” Thank god you can look back on it without anger now, knowing neither you nor Javi is at fault for what happened between you.

"That's damn near the truth." He murmurs. He had been ready to drive to the town where you had moved and beating on your door after graduation until Lorraine lied to him and told him you were with someone else. "Hell, it's still true now." He hadn't realized how much you not being in his life had changed him until you had shown up again. He was still serious, but he felt lighter with you with him again.

“Me too.” His hand is still on your thigh under the table and you place yours on top to give his fingers a squeeze. “I’m going to call every night while I’m in the States so I don’t go crazy from missing you.”

"You enjoy your time back home. Treat it as an after wedding bachelorette trip with Con." He tells you, turning his hand over so he can thread his fingers with yours. "She's been homesick so this can be good for her."

“We’re going to stop at all the dumb roadside attractions from Dix down to Laredo, stay in crappy motel rooms and eat regional fast food the whole trip. Thelma and Louise without the crime and suicide.” You had termed it that way with Connie and found that you sort of love it.

"And no Brad Pitt." Javi huffs, frowning at the idea of the blonde man. You had cooed over him while forcing him to watch the movie.

“No Brad Pitt.” You promise solemnly. “Just me and Connie and a little movie truck. Pops is going to love her.”

"Yeah he is." His father is going to love have his new daughter-in-law and Connie there. "Just don't let him break out the baby pictures."

“Noooooo, come on!” The pout you aim at him is positively fierce. “The baby pictures are so fucking cute. You can’t deprive your wife of looking through those albums!”

There is nothing that he would deny you and he has a sneaking suspicion that you fucking know it. He frowns but the food's arrival keeps him from commenting and you grin at him, knowing that he's not going to stop you from showing her as the server sets the food down in front of you.

Thanking the waitress, you flash your husband a victorious grin over the amazing smelling food. “I’ll try to contain most of the embarrassment to stories that involve both of us,” you promise. “But we both know Pops is going to want to talk babies for at least a little while, and those albums will be out whether you like it or not.”

He sighs and shakes his head as he drapes the napkin in his lap and looks over at you. "Tell pops that grandkids aren't coming just yet." He reminds you. "We need to get the fuck out of Colombia first. The last thing I want is my pregnant wife or my newborn baby in a fucking war zone if Escobar decides it's open season on the Americanos."

“I know.” And you agreed with him wholeheartedly the first time he said it, and you agree with him still. “But is you don’t think he’s going to have rearranged the entire house by the time we move back to the ranch, you have another thing coming, mi amor.” You sigh a little, laying your napkin in your lap and taking a sip of the broth from your stew. “But ya know what? The more we talk about going back to the ranch, the more I really love the idea.”

"That's what we will do." Javi promises. "Just let me get Escobar."

“However long it takes.” You hold your glass up to him, a sort of salute and gesture of promise. That you’ll be right beside him for as long as it takes, and that your life together is only just beginning again. When you say el amor de mi vida you mean it. Your life is always going to have him front and center.

"Hopefully not long." He murmurs softly, taking up his own spoon. Thinking about staying here and escalating violence bothers him. For now Escobar was pretending to play along in his tower prison. But it wouldn’t last for long.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle

Broken Road: @shakespeareanwannabe @pascalesque @hnt-escape @xaestheticalien @supernaturalgirl20 @samzie @blub-senpai @dobbyjen @vanered15 @vanemando15

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x female reader #high school sweethearts #lost love #valentine's day #fic is for lovers #Narcos #Narcos fanfic

208 notes · View notes

0097linersb · 3 years

Text

Pink Lemonade

CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Jaemin x Renjun x Haechan x Jeno x Mark x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor (I guess), Slow burn af

Summary: The dreamies decide to spend some weeks at an Inn in the middle of the nature to relax and enjoy some outdoor adventures, far away from their crazy idol life. What they didn’t expect was the nice girl running said Inn.

Word count: 3k

You should read the intro first so this story makes sense <3

☼ previous / next ☼

A/N: Honestly guys this fic will probably be long and detaild af ‘cause I’m using it as a distraction from real life lol guess who just finished their engagement. If u would like it to be more straightforward and go right to the fun parts let me know, I’d really like some opinions! Also, it’s like 2 AM so I’ll proofread it tomorrow

As you woke up the next day, you were not shocked to find that the boys were not up yet. Last night you were surprised to come downstairs to an already fully cleaned kitchen and as much as it made you embarrassed, it also made you immensely grateful. You thanked them and told them to stop being so nice and doing your job for you, to which Mark only responded that seven guys could be really messy sometimes.

You had given them the folders that informed all the activities the Inn (well, you) offered and the ones they could book in the city a few minutes away, it made you smile at how excited they got reading the paper and planning their days. Haechan was already asking if they could go stargazing that same night but the rest of them groaned saying they were way too tired to move after the long trip (and you felt bad once again for having them clean the kitchen).

Everyone eventually agreed on a time for breakfast and you were just sure they wouldn’t wake up that early by the dark circles under their eyes and, turns out you were right. They did go to sleep pretty early the other night, showering after the meal you had and just going straight to bed.

You lazily stretched as you left your room with Koda and Kenai tracing after you, to find a very much awake Jaemin sitting on the living room’s couch holding a cup.

“Good morning, did you make coffee?” You yawned at the boy, scolding Koda so he would get off the couch.

“Good morning. Yeah, sorry for taking the liberty, I really needed to wake up,” He smiled at you, petting your disobedient dog with his free hand so he could get distracted from the way your shirt had ridden up. Damn morning horniness.

“It’s ok, smells good. Are the rest of the boys awake?”

“Nop, and probably won’t be for a while. I know we agreed on going to the lake at 8 but everyone’s dead, I can wake them up if-“

“No, it’s ok,” You laughed. “I imagined this would happen, not a fan of waking up early myself.”

“Oh, you can go back to sleep if you want, I can knock when everyone starts waking up.”

“Don’t worry. You just really made me want some coffee.”

“I left it downstairs, I can go get you a cup.”

“Jaemin, we’re playing opposites here, don’t make me feel useless,” You joked, already making your way to the stairs, missing how the man stared at your legs in your little pajama shorts. “Plus, I need to take the boys on a walk before they become too fidgety.”

“Can I come with?”

“Of course.”

Jaemin was quick to stand up and follow you downstairs, where you quickly poured yourself a cup of coffee and opened the door, the dogs running past you excitedly. You silently lead the way out of your property and into the unpaved road, warming your hands with the coffee mug – The days were hot but the nights and early mornings could be quite chilly, especially with all the trees surrounding you and blocking the sunshine from reaching you.

“Do they sleep with you?” Jaemin asked, pointing at the dogs who were sniffing around the bushes on the side of the road, like they didn’t do this same route every day.

“Sometimes, they often prefer to stay outside, lots of animals to chase when I’m not there to scream at them.”

“They don’t wear leashes?”

“No need to, there’s barely people here and they are really well-behaved. I trained them well, Koda just gets a little bold when we have new guests over,” You smiled, remembering not even 5 minutes ago said dog was trying to get on Jaemin’s lap on the couch. “Do you like tangerines?”

The boy looked at you confused but nodded.

“Wait a second,” You asked before leaving him, walking off the road and into the trees. After a minute or so, you were back, throwing one of the orange fruits at Jaemin. “I steal them from the neighbors sometimes.”

“Will we get in trouble?” He asked but was already peeling the tangerine with his hands.

“Nah, they are never here. These would just rot.”

“Seems only fair then.”

You walked for another few minutes in silence, eating happily as you appreciated the sound of your feet crushing the small rocks on the floor.

“Ok, tangerines do not go well with coffee,” You make a face after eating half of your fruit, only now stopping to pay attention to the actual taste in your mouth.

Jaemin laughs at you before putting his last slice into his mouth, “Cute.”

“There’s nothing cute about this flavor.”

“Didn’t bother me,” He shrugged, smiling down at you.

Damn that boy was too attractive for his own good. You meant, all of them were.

It was just unfair, really.

The two of you talked a bit more until you hit the end of the road and then made your way back, it was a light-hearted comfortable conversation and you liked the way it made you feel warm inside. You learnt that Jaemin likes to photograph stuff and you asked him to take lots of pictures during their stay so you could use them on the Inn’s social media, telling him you shared that hobby with him. You then started a discussion about digital vs. film photography, in which you two clearly didn’t agree on, but it kept you entertained for a long time.

“Listen, technology evolved to this point to make life comfortable and easier for a reason!” Jaemin whined as you two were entering your property once again. “Is there something worse than developing your pictures only to find out your film was ruined?”

“That’s the thrill of it!” You exasperated.

“I call that heartbreak.”

“It’s a raw form of art for the strong hearted,” You sigh dramatically, opening the door for the man.

After your half an hour walk, as you got back home, only Renjun was up, pouring himself some coffee and looking super sleepy.

“Good morning, slept well?” You asked as Jaemin made his way to sit down on the table after getting Renjun to pour him some more coffee.

“Yeah, this is the first time I dreamt in months,” He smiled at you but his eyes were still half closed. Like you, Renjun was still in his pajamas, light sweatpants and a wrinkled white t-shirt.

“Do you guys want to eat something before breakfast?” You asked, not knowing how long they would have to wait for the others.

“It’s ok,” Jaemin answered.

“If you change your mind just let me know,” You smiled, wondering on what to do now, since you had already prepared the food for today last night and didn’t have any other chores until everyone was up so you could make their beds.

You figured the boys would drink their coffees and go talk or lay down in the hammocks, maybe even try to nap a bit but you were proven wrong when Renjun pointed at the end of the table suddenly excited, “Are those cards?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we play?”

“Of course.”

The man was quick to pick up the little box and sit down across the table from Jaemin, who tapped the place next to him before you had the chance to leave. You happily took on the offer, content with finally spending some fun time with people your age. No, scratch that: Attractive men your age.

“Let’s play Rummy!” Renjun suggested, the sleepiness leaving his body at the simple thought.

“I have no idea how to play that,” You informed.

“It’s ok, I’ll teach you. Come closer,” Jaemin smiled at you and you obeyed, heart beating fast at your thighs suddenly touching. What were you? 12?

The game was way too complicated for your morning brain to understand so you basically just watched the boys play, giving your input here and there.

“Jaemin, here!” You excitedly pointed at one of the cards he was holding.

“Oh, I had missed that, smart girl,” He smiled at you, patting your thigh as a thank you or maybe a praise, making your heart almost leave your body through your mouth.

Freaking pet names dude.

After an hour or so playing, Jeno and Haechan appeared already fully clothed and awake. The second boy gave you and Jaemin a weird look, noticing how the boy’s right hand was just casually resting on your thigh. At some point it just happened and it felt comfortable (if you ignored your blood pumping through your body twice the normal speed, of course), it had been months since you had flirted with someone and you were enjoying the touch fully, thoughts of being professional nowhere to be found.

You greeted the boys and they sat down too, informing Mark and Chenle would be down in a second and Jisung would just skip breakfast to sleep. You decided then to get up and leave them to chat as you went into the pantry to organize the food you had prepared yesterday, into the baskets.

“Dude,” Haechan whispered to Jaemin.

Just by looking at the boy, Jaemin already knew what he wanted to comment on so he just, “Don’t.”

“Game on, bro.”

“What? This is not a game, we were just-“

“I said game on, bro.”

Jaemin sighed and gave up, knowing Haechan was just joking and being annoying as usual.

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

After all the men (minus Jisung) were downstairs and ready to go, you guided them down to the lake, setting up one of those cliché plaid towels for everyone to sit on. As you and Mark organized the foods around, you smiled at the others running around the grass and taking pictures, impressed at the view. The lake really was pretty and your property had a privileged clearing to sit down and enjoy it.

“I would love to say they are normally not this energetic,” Mark smiled at you, placing the bowl with the grapes and strawberries down. “But I’d be lying.”

“It’s refreshing, I rarely deal with people my age around here. We didn’t add bingo to the activities’ folder for no reason.”

“There are no clubs or bars around here?”

“The biggest city around has barely 2.000 habitants so I’ll say no to that. Although this region is becoming really famous for the ecotourism these days, they opened a nice pub for the tourists like last month but there’s only ever people during the weekends.”

“Well, if you ever go to Seoul, let me take you out,” Mark offered before realizing what he had said and stiffening, cheeks going red like the watermelon juice in your hands. “I mean, like, to show you the places and-“

“That sounds fun,” You smiled at him, deciding to end his misery right from the start. He was cute. “Boys, the food is ready.”

Jeno excitedly dropped Haechan down (who he was holding for a picture) and ran over, leaving a very whiny boy on the floor. Jaemin took a picture of that and soon enough, everyone was sitting down on the picnic clot.

“Wow, it looks like we’re in a movie,” Renjun awed, looking around.

It really did, that’s why you liked bringing the guests to this spot on their first day. After everything was set, the scenery resembled a Renaissance painting and you loved it. It was a bit hotter than normally since it was a few hours later then the time the guests usually have breakfast, but the gentle breeze of the wind was enough to not make it unbearable.

The meal was fun, the boys made you feel so comfortable that it felt like you have known each other for a longer time than the actual truth. You all chatted, joked around and posed for pictures with the food. You had brought your analog camera just to tease Jaemin, asking him to take a picture with it for you.

“How do you want it?” The boy groaned, pretending to be annoyed.

“Here, I have an idea,” Haechan shared, excitedly, holding up one of the strawberries from the bowl in front of your face. “Bite it on the side.”

You accepted the advice confused, not understanding where he was trying to go with it but excited, you loved a good old-fashioned improvised picture. Jaemin pointed the camera at you and counted to three, and you smiled around the strawberry when on the count of one, Haechan bit on the other side of the strawberry and looked at you cross-eyed. After you saw the flash of the camera going off, you decided to take a big bite of the strawberry to play around with Haechan but apparently the boy had the same idea and your lips ended up touching, slightly. Since when has your life become a cliché teenage movie?

You quickly took the stem of the fruit from between your mouths, pulling away from the boy to tease him, “Damn. Didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

The others joined in on teasing Haechan but the man simply winked at you, “Would be my pleasure.”

You didn’t even have time to giggle before the other men pretended to puke and Renjun legit slapped Haechan.

_____________________________________________

The boys decided to not do any activities that day because Jisung would simply not wake up and after a while waiting, Chenle decided to join him on the hibernation. It made you feel sad for them, that their days were so busy and tiring that at the first sight of some time off, they would sleep for hours and hours to make up for it.

The rest of you decided to play some volleyball in the parking lot (which was not the best idea considering it was noon). As expected by the almost 40 degrees climate, one by one, every single boy started taking off their shirts, body dripping and glistening with sweat and you just felt in heaven. This could just not be real, you even looked around for cameras, scenes like that just didn’t happen in real life. One hot shirtless guy was the acceptable quota for normality.

But also, you didn’t miss the way they looked at you in your little shorts and top (equal rights after all). It made you feel powerful even though you knew it was just their hormones talking, yours were screaming too after all. If it was already like that on their second day here, you couldn’t imagine how you would survive for the next few weeks, you just wanted to cry every time Jeno (who was on your team) approached you to celebrate when either of you scored, high-fiving you with his huge arms (you would die a happy woman if you were choked by them).

After the game was over, the boys decided to go swim on the lake to cool off and you figured it would be a good time to shower and organize their beds, which you quickly did before starting to make some lunch for everyone. The youngest ones of the group didn’t even wake up to eat so you decided to leave them some food in the microwave in case they got hungry in the afternoon.

Unfortunately the Wi-Fi was being annoying as usual and refused to work, so you couldn’t even google about the boys yet, the curiosity was almost killing you. Maybe it was better like that, right now you were just seeing them as 7 young men living their normal lives and you liked it, it kept you from being nervous at the fact they were probably some big stars that had the world at their feet – They all just seemed so chill sprawled around the living room floor playing the bingo you had joked about earlier, it was hard to believe they probably had hoards of screaming girls around them daily.

They thanked you for cleaning their rooms and told you that you didn’t have to, which technically you did, considering it was literally your job and the whole reason you were there.

You could be wrong, considering you have known them for barely 2 days, but you quickly noticed some little things about them: Like how Jaemin liked to touch you, even if it was just a light brush of his hand on your arm (in his defense, he was touchy with everyone, but when he touched you, it just lingered for a bit longer), or how Haechan liked to playfully flirt with you, that boy just had no shame and you admired him for that. You saw how Renjun often stared at you but when you looked at him, he looked away (which could mean either he was shy or he just didn’t like you very much), but at least he was more subtle about it, as opposite to Mark, who became a blushing mess every time you caught his eyes (and you just wanted to squeeze him). You realized Jeno was a manlier guy, you hadn’t gotten what his deal was yet but you loved the way his eyes disappeared when he smiled and that was enough for you.

It was funny, really, how everyone decided to ignore the tension in the air and go on with the day normally – You did only meet the day before after all.

After getting bored with bingo, the boys told you they planned on going water skiing tomorrow and you agreed happily, telling them you could have a little barbecue party in the camping next to the docks where your parents kept the Inn’s water sports gears, which got them even more excited.

“Can we go camping too?” Jeno asked, receiving a groan from Haechan. Classic city boy.

“Like at night?” You asked and Jeno nodded. “Yeah, actually the stars here are crazy pretty since there’s no light pollution.”

“See?” The boy told Haechan excitedly, who only sighed, accepting his fate.

Barbecue, bonfire, alcohol and a beautiful sky: You were a city girl too but you were also a sucker for a good camping night.

taglist: @eggbutnotyolk @lauraneuuh @geeisaclown @jenotation @riemm @junguwuuu @prettychaeng @satanssugaraddiction @luvlyjaemin @sweetjaemss @oofimdumb @junglekooks @unknown5tar @rosedchae@

760 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Powerful Ch. 1

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU* Quirkless as well

Warnings: Arranged (sort of) marriage, brief mention of champagne, mentions of violence (nothing too specific). In later chapters: Probably smut

Word Count: 3.4 k

Author’s Note: ALRIGHTY here we go. I just had a fixation on Mafia AUs and, of course, it’s Shouta. What else did you expect? I’m a sucker for arranged relationships. Also he’s a little ooc in here, more confident, more ‘I want it I got it’. Hey, he’s the most powerful man in Japan, might as well have him act like it right? Anywho, I have no clue how many chapters this’ll end up being. Let’s just say this is ongoing for now.

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Enjoy~

25 years old and you haven’t been married off yet. This was strategic on your father’s part. As a rather low-ranking clan he’d purposely saved you, his eldest daughter, for marrying into a higher ranked clan. You’d bring immense honor to the family name. If only you’d known what you were getting into, maybe you could have been better prepared for your world to flip on its head.

The black velvet gown you wear is tailored perfectly to your form, accentuating every curve and dip on your body. The skirt fanned out around you gracefully and a short train trailed behind you as you stepped through the grand doors of the massive mansion. Tonight is the annual celebratory ball, held to celebrate successful unions and achievements. This one was particularly special, you just didn’t quite know it yet.

Since the event wasn’t mandatory, you were told to go in alone as a representative of your clan, while Mother and Father attended to more important matters. Before you even stepped in you fixed your posture and schooled your expression, keeping your form humbled. Heavens know what could happen should you irk the wrong clan.

Inside you were met with an onslaught of mixed everything, mixed drinks and colors and styles. Some wore traditional Japanese kimono, others more modern versions of the garment and others, like you, wearing more extravagant european or western style clothing. Though a rather interesting mix, nothing quite clashed which you were slightly grateful for, since there was no possible way you could make it through the night without a headache if there was an unpleasant mix of visuals.

You strode through and instantly met several lower clan heads that you respectfully bowed to and engaged in pleasant small talk with, moving from person to person, couple to couple and paying respects to all of them. You kept a small smile, a pleasant facade as you waltzed over the hardwood flooring. It took almost two hours of endless conversation before you managed to catch a break in the madness, snatching a small flute of champagne from a waiter and leaning up against a wall for a breath.

You still hadn’t noticed the pair of dark eyes that studied you from the moment you arrived.

____

You struck him as intriguing at first. From the moment you walked over the threshold his eyes drank you in, studying you, observing and judging just as he had with many other women before you. No one here knows it, but the man is looking for a bride. Someone who could stand by his side,improve and uphold his image, help him wield the power that is the Yakuza. Yes, rank is important, but Shouta is too picky to care about rank. He is looking for a specific type of woman, one that can hold untold depths of power without crumbling under the pressure or getting swept up in the rush of it all.

A woman, he decides, like you.

You held yourself with grace, pride and humility. You seemed to understand your position, your probable low rank, while also not undermining your importance nor worth. A woman like you is hard to come by in this world, most just as power hungry and ruthless and greedy as their husbands, all while putting up a cotton candy sweet mask and using it to disguise their conniving ways.

But in truth, that’s what it took to live this kind of life, isn’t it?

It was clear you knew that, while still managing to feel genuine in everything you did, even with an action as simple as sipping champagne. At the same time he can’t deny you are quite beautiful, soft lips and softer eyes, fingers gently grasping your glass with unmatched elegance and an unwavering strength in your posture. You’d bowed before many this evening, and yet you stood taller than even the highest ranking clan heads without challenging a single one of them. Bamboo in this forest of tall, unyielding trees. Capable of wielding so much power.

For a split second his mind wandered to other things, filthy moments shared in the privacy of his chambers, shared breaths and shimmering sweaty skin. He wondered what you would be like underneath him, if you would be a brat or willingly submit yourself to him. He hopes it to be the latter, but wouldn’t completely deny the chance to tame someone difficult. How would you look pinned under his weight, completely helpless to his hands that have killed and tortured? Would you claw at his shoulders or grip the sheets instead? What would you sound like? Your image plagued his mind even if only for a moment.

He’d studied many women over the few hours since the event started, none of them giving him a good enough first impression for him to continue watching further than a minute. There was no question in his mind now. You’d be returning home with him tonight.

____

You had just finished your drink and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray when suddenly the ballroom fell extremely silent. All heads turned, eyes focused on the man that began his descent from the balcony overlooking the floor. He’s gorgeous, long black hair pulled into a low bun and exposing the light scruff on his chin and impossibly sharp jaw, a deep scar curved under his right eye. The full black satin suit is fitted to his form, strong shoulders and rolling muscle evident even under the thick materials. Ink peeked over the collar, a hint at what was definitely intricate sleeves and detailed artwork. His steps were measured, calculated and purposeful as he made his way down and across the floor, the entire room bowing down at his presence.

You know who he is, as does every person here. Top rung of the ladder, Oyabun of the most powerful clan in Japan, his name widely known through the entire organization and yet almost never spoken. Shouta Aizawa, a name both respected and feared, holding unknown power and strength. His reputation is enough to make anyone feel small in his presence, known for his cold demeanor and the violence he’d committed, many losing their fingers, loved ones, and their own lives for misdeeds against him. He’d done most of that himself, marking him as a very dangerous man to be involved with, and an ally everyone wanted backing them.

You bowed down respectfully just as everyone else did, waiting patiently for a release, whether it was from the man himself or a collective understanding that it was alright to rise once again. The former was the first to come to fruition, though you didn’t expect him to be so close to you as he said it. Your eyes met with sharp onyx as you fixed yourself upright. It made you freeze in place, not quite tense, not quite relaxed, your expression hopefully not showing the utter shock you were feeling.

“What is your name?” You blinked only once before your mind caught up, and you willed your voice steady as you responded. What had you done to piss him off? What punishment awaited you for what you didn’t know you’d done? Despite fearing what may come, you don’t dare speak out of turn, even to beg for your life. His next words were addressed to the entire ballroom, you included, his smooth, deep voice booming out and yet somehow not loud at all.

“Any transgression against this woman is a transgression against me. As my future wife she is untouchable, and will remain that way until I explicitly state otherwise.” A collective hushed gasp sounded through the massive hall, your own eyes growing wide and your heart damn near stopping as your brain dissected the information. He just made you his fiance, with no warning, no hesitation, and full confidence. You are now engaged to the most powerful man in Japan, and you have exactly zero say in the matter. Really though, you never expected to be able to voice any opinions considering the patriarchy of the organization, so that bit of shock was quickly overlooked.

“It’s time to retire, little one.” His hand was held out to you, waiting for your own. You blinked, deciding it was best that you saved your shock for later you focused on the here and now and what to do in this moment. Taking a breath, you schooled your face into a pleasant smile and placed your hand in his waiting palm, allowing him to tuck you into his side as you both walked out the front doors and climbed into a black limouzine.

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, sitting silently next to the man as trees and telephone poles whizzed by the vehicle. It was tense, to say the least, his hand possessively sat on your knee as his eyes remained fixed in front of him and yours did the same. Neither of you talked, you slightly out of fear, of respect, and slightly out of sheer shock, your mind just barely able to keep itself together. He remained silent for a purpose. He would talk when you were alone, or when he felt like talking. Which isn’t right now.

You let your mind whirl a bit, worrying about what this meant for you. Worrying about how this powerful man would treat you, how he acted behind closed doors and if he even cared about you or what you might have to say. It’s nerve-wracking, suddenly bound to a power such as him, not knowing what could happen next, not knowing what to do next. There was nothing that could have prepared you for this.

The car slowed as it pulled up to the gate of the enormous estate, shaking you out of your thoughts, and once it opened the drive to the main house took nearly five minutes on its own. It’s a modern home, several stories tall with the top clearly penthouse-style with a full glass wall that overlooks the landscape, the rest of the huge inner home hidden behind crisp walls.

At a full stop, a man opens the door for you, the Oyabun having already exited and held a hand out for you to grab once again, strong muscles pulling you up with ease and leading you through the building and into an elevator. The silence is stifling as you wait for the machine to come to a stop, the soft chime indicating you’ve landed.

Now you’re completely alone with him.

He leads you in and stops in the center of the large main room, stepping away and turning his scrutinizing gaze onto you. You do your best not to tense in front of him, not to show fear, partially for his comfort though you’re sure he’s used to it. His shoes clack softly, rhythmically on the polished wood floor as he begins to circle you, like a predator eyeing its prey, eyes burning paths up and down your form. You barely keep from squirming under his intense gaze, managing to keep still from sheer willpower. He stops suddenly behind you and you feel his warmth as he leans in close before a hand presses into your mid back and another gently grasps your shoulder, gently making you straighten even more, stand even taller.

Once he’s satisfied with your posture he rounds you and tilts your chin just a tad higher with a hooked finger. He’s silent as he shapes you, adjusting your body to his liking. You let him tenderly push and tug, grab and knead and trail those deadly fingers over you until he stops before you, studying you once again.

“You’re my fiance now. You will hold yourself as such, radiate power as I do and command the attention of a room with only a glance.” The reminder of just what was happening made your breath stutter a little, and his hand came up to grasp your chin, making you look up into his dark eyes.

“You will learn, little one, to be the powerful woman I see.” He was so close, the heat from his body rolling over your skin and his breaths fanning over your face. Then he was walking away, motioning for you to follow as he led you to his chambers and bathroom to get cleaned up. You’d be sleeping with him from now on, he said, handing you a robe to change into after you’ve bathed and guiding you into the bathroom before closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts as you set to cleaning yourself.

Given you don’t screw things up, you are going to be the most powerful woman in Japan, solely because of a sudden arranged marriage dropped seemingly from out of nowhere. But the longer you think about it, it isn’t really out of nowhere is it? The Oyabun is 30 now, and until tonight hadn’t named a wife, nor any love interests, and therefore no possible heirs. If the man were to die for any reason, those chances only increasing the older he gets, the power vacuum his absence would create would be absolute madness. You’re part of a strategy, just as before. Just as always.

Yet there was no denying he’d struck something inside you. Of all the women in that hall he approached you, a woman he didn’t know from a low ranked clan, for reasons you could only barely begin to guess. He’d called you powerful earlier, the sincerity in his voice making your mind spin. Did he really see you as powerful? And the name he’d used for you felt far too tender on the tongue of such a dangerous man, though you understood the nod toward your previous rank.

Father and Mother must be either confused, shocked, or overflowing with joy right about now. Confused as to why you haven’t returned, shocked, happy, or both at the news had they learned it. With your mind processing everything, your body finally begins to feel fatigued.

You shut off the water before drying yourself, patting your hair in the towel before pulling on the fluffy robe. It was clearly meant for him, the fuzzy black garment large around the shoulders and sleeves engulfing your hands, the garment nearly touching the floor where it’s meant to hang several inches from it on his frame. Despite swimming in the robe, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable. You’re bare beneath it, not having planned to not return home. Still, it’s late, and the Oyabun needs to shower as well. With a steadying breath, you step out into the room.

He’s standing near the bed, the top half of his clothing discarded and bare skin exposed, along with the heavy tattooing and scars along his body. Dragon scales decorated his skin, along with delicate swirls heavily resembling smoke and clouds that followed the curves of his corded muscles. He is undoubtedly a beautiful man. You don’t realize you’re staring until a miniscule smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, little one?” You blink away your daze and shift your eyes to the side, feeling the slight burn in your face at being caught. Instead of answering the cheeky question you choose to change the subject.

“I’m finished with my shower, Oyabun.” He hums, a low sound you can feel in your chest.

“I can see that, little one. And you call me Shouta.” You take a quiet, sharp inhale and nod.

“Yes, of course...Shouta.” His name feels heavy on your tongue, a name that people didn’t normally dare speak. He’s silent as he gathers his things and moves toward the bathroom, stopping momentarily by your side. You’re confused a moment before his calloused fingers gently grip your jaw and turn your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple for a split second before he’s disappearing into the bathroom.

You stand in shock, the tender touch unexpected. Shaking your head, you decide it’s best to lay down. Hopefully you’d fall asleep by the time he finishes bathing, but you doubted it. You’re proven right when, in the midst of mulling over your own thoughts, he emerges in nothing but sweatpants, dark hair still damp as it fell around his shoulders. You managed to avert your eyes before he could catch you staring for a second time tonight, and it wasn’t long before he slipped under the blankets next to you.

There wasn’t a single word shared between you as he flicked off the lights with a remote and settled into the plush mattress. There was no movement from the man as you lay with your back to him. You aren’t entirely sure if the lack of movement unsettles you more than if he were to be shuffling around. It felt like hours had passed in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted and you couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted you felt.

Your mind raced with questions. What happens now? What happens with your clan and parents? Would you have clothes soon? How would he treat you? How were you supposed to act around him? When is the wedding? Is the engagement already official? What if you disappoint him and fuck everything over? The entire situation makes you anxious, for more than something as trivial as your own safety. You shift onto your back and listen to Shouta’s soft snores, signaling his sleep. As silently and gently as you can, you slip out of bed.

You have no clue what you were going to do or where you were going to do it, but you had to get away from him if only for a moment, to let yourself breathe and think. Almost mindlessly, you find yourself staring out of the glass wall and out into the night. This far out, you can see the stars in the night sky clear and bright, and it was a sight you missed having lived in the city most of your life. Right here you have room to think, space to spread your thoughts and calm your mind to keep from jumbling everything in your brain and stressing over it more.

From what you can tell there is a very small chance Shouta would treat you maliciously, so for now you don’t have to worry about that. Considering his power and status, you won’t be without clothing for long. The thought was silly in the first place, but stress tended to make you question even the most ridiculous. As for how you’re meant to act, well that would have to be tested. He’d already told you how to appear to the public, so that shouldn’t be too hard, but being alone with the man was driving you insane.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts. You spin around, suddenly very much on guard, before Shouta’s voice broke through the darkness, his figure slowly approaching.

“What are you doing up, little one?” You bite your lip and turn to gaze outside again, hugging your arms tight.

“Just thinking. I apologize for waking you, Oya-… Shouta.” His warmth hit you before his skin did, chest pressed into your back and large rough hands gripping your shoulders firm but gentle. His breath is hot on your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Such an intimate action from him only hours after he’d made you his fiance was quite the shock in and of itself, only enhanced by the fact that this man is known for his cold nature.

“Thinking about what?” His hands smoothed down your arms, following them around your waist and encompassing your hands in his, tugging you into him further. Unnatural as it may seem, it feels good, his warmth. In the arms of such a dangerous and powerful man you should feel small and scared, but you don’t. You aren’t entirely sure what it is you feel. Truthfully, you don’t have the energy to answer his question properly.

“About a lot of things. Too many things.” Right now, the only thing you want to do is melt into the man’s arms. His presence is suddenly comforting, instead of worrying, and you feel safe in his embrace. You sigh and lean into him, fatigue finally beginning to tug at your body and mind. Strong arms scoop you up like nothing, and suddenly you’re being placed down on the bed before he climbs in and pulls you onto him. An arm circles your waist while the other cradles your head, a tender kiss placed at your hairline.

“Sleep, little one.” His fingers thread through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. It’s a soothing action, especially after nearly giving yourself a headache from stress. It isn’t long before you’re nodding off, relaxing into his body and letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa #mafia au bnha #mafia au mha #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader

317 notes · View notes