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sporticus1234 · 3 years

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Catch Me if You Can-Laws of Attraction (Part 2) 🍋

Summary: After weeks of flirting, teasing, and close calls, Tessa is ready to take the plunge, but can Gabe overcome his own worse fears and join her?

Pairing: Gabe Ricci x Main Character (Tessa Michaels)

Link to my Master-List and Other works will be added once they have been re-edited and re-uploaded.

Catch up with Part 1 Here: Part 1

WARNING: The following story has a 🍋 rating, meaning there will be topics of

NSFW

Smut

Strong Language

By viewing of this work, you are acknowledging and consenting to the fact that you are 18+ years of age and can view such works.

Tagging: @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythomas05-blog @nishas-paradise @blainehellyes @suitfer @pixelnutrookie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @adiehardfan @panda9511 @curiousconch @weaving-in-words @mm2305 @thegreentwin

I love you all so much, and I will see you again soon!

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If you hesitate, opportunities will pass by you So open your heart and come out -Girls Generation, The Boys (Korean Ver.)

The hotel café the following morning was full of delicious, mouth-watering smells and buzzing conversations of the guests milling around, families excitedly planning for the day ahead or business associates discussing their upcoming ventures and other current events. In the back corner of the room next to the sheer curtains covering the early morning Boston sun, Gabe Ricci halfheartedly pokes his fork around the scrambled mess of eggs barely eaten in front of him, his head resting on a propped fist as his eyes struggle to stay open as a dull headache thumps in his head. He lifts his fork to take another bite of eggs, but his stomach lurches at the sight, and he drops the fork with a clatter. He reaches out to pour himself another cup of coffee, but he curses under his breath when he realizes the pot he ordered was empty. He tries to catch the attention of a passing waiter, but his eyes instead slide to a couple sitting a few tables away from him, their fingers laced together on the table as they share an intimate conversation punctuated by giggles and kisses across the other’s knuckles. The sight makes his stomach ache in guilt as the events of last night play like a never-ending repeat of a bad movie in his mind.

He knows there is no one else to blame; he is the one solely responsible for the shitty mess between him and Tessa. If he just gave her the obvious answer last night, he wouldn’t be sitting in the back corner on the verge of a hangover and close to passing out in his eggs. Instead, the two of them would be upstairs in his suite, her hair splayed out over one of the pillows as their limbs tangle together underneath the soft sheets draping over their naked bodies. Or, they would be eating breakfast in bed and watching the sun rise behind the towering skyscrapers as they share intimate little details about each other. Yet here he was, sitting down here and looking pathetically ridiculous as he stares a hole into his eggs like they held the answer to the question of why he was down here and not upstairs.

But Gabe already knows why he is sitting down here.

He is afraid that Tessa would reject him once things got serious.

Gabe Ricci, the man who stares down opposing attorneys and judges in a packed courtroom is afraid of something like rejection from a woman. The man who is confidently sure of himself and goes toe to toe with some of the greatest legal minds of the current day is afraid of being told “no.” The whole situation seems entirely laughable, and Gabe would completely understand if people saw it that way. But those people didn’t know about the one specific incident all those years ago that completely changed the course of his life and made him the way he is today.

Gabe considers himself to be an “all or nothing” person, devoting one hundred percent of himself to everything in his life, whether it was his job, himself, his relationships, and even his love life. It was his “all or nothing”, caring attitude that brought him to the door of the New York Public Defender’s office. Being a public defender was never going to be a smooth sailing job, but even with the obstacles in front of him, Gabe still defended his clients with everything he had. But at the end of the day, his “all or nothing” attitude was still not enough. He had little to no victories to back up his expertise and knowledge, and the passion he had for the legal field dwindled with every “guilty” verdict that felt like a swift punch to the gut. The workload was becoming overbearing with each passing year, and eventually, Gabe started questioning his own abilities and confidence. He found himself trapped in a never-ending nightmare with no chance of escape.

Even though his job was becoming a literal hell, he could always count on the one bright spot in his life at the time.

Katrina.

Katrina was everything Gabe hoped to find in a partner. She was kind, intelligent, caring. The two of them had an incredible whirlwind romance, and Gabe felt like he was walking on Cloud Nine when she was around. She was the one person who made everything feel better after a hard day. She was the one person who motivated him to push forward, encouraging him and giving him belief that one day, things would become better than what they were. She was the first person Gabe had met who he truly believed shared his same attitude of “all or nothing”, and their relationship grew more serious with each passing day. The future of their relationship came to a head one night in Central Park, where Gabe found himself on one knee in front of her with a glittering diamond ring in his hand, ready to fully go “all in” and spend the rest of his life with her. However, two little words made the intense romance they once shared fizzle out and leave his spirits firmly crushed. She rejected him in Central Park, and a week later, she moved out of his apartment and out of his life, the two of them unable to rekindle the romance they once shared despite their best efforts.

The pain of her rejection made him a closed-off shell of his former self. He never socialized after work or on the weekends unless he absolutely had to, and if he did, he hardly spoke to anyone unless the situation called for it. His work continued to suffer as he couldn’t find the heart and motivation to defend his clients as well as he knew he could. But one day after a trial, Sadie McGraw cornered him and offered him a second chance, a chance to start over and become the lawyer she knew he could become. With her help and guidance, Gabe slowly started rediscovering himself as a lawyer. The power she had given him combined with his knowledge and expertise pulled in big wins for the firm and moved him up towards the top ranks of McGraw Byrne. He was rediscovering his passion for the legal field and helping others. People began to congratulate him on his wins and praise his incredible devotion to the firm.

While he wouldn’t argue his devotion to the job, it wasn’t the sole reason he stayed long nights or came to work early in the morning. Every time he went back to his apartment after work, the sliver of happiness he felt and the boisterous conversations of the office became replaced by dreaded loneliness and cold quietness. The solitary confines of his apartment were a constant, mocking reminder of what he didn’t have anymore, a reminder of her rejection all those years ago. The office became a safe space of sorts for him, and he dreaded leaving its comfort. With the company’s generosity, Gabe secured a new, better apartment where he could make new memories and not be constantly reminded of bitter ones. The one thing the company couldn’t help him with was finding the one person who made him feel even a tenth of what Katrina made him feel. He never shied away from going out on dates as he attempted to move on with his life, but no one understood his passion, commitment, and devotion the way Katrina did. Plenty of people managed to catch his attention, but no one came close enough to keep it.

Until Tessa walked through the doors.

Gabe had discovered her the same way Sadie did, and he knew she would be a perfect addition to McGraw Byrne when Sadie opened up spots on the team. He had firsthand knowledge of her legal expertise, and he knew she fully devoted herself to her clients and used the knowledge she continued to learn in order to help them. However, while she managed to capture his attention, she was the only one who managed to keep it. She is incredibly beautiful; there was no denying that fact. But seeing her in action shined a completely different light on her. She goes above and beyond for her clients, and she willingly and gladly steps up and takes initiative when needed. She isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with some of the best attorneys in the state. Passion flows out of her like a waterfall, and it shows in her work. She is quick-witted and sharp, her eyes and mind never missing a single detail, and Gabe was not only impressed, but insanely captivated by her.

He initially didn’t think much of their constant flirting in the office or their dinner outings together, especially since Tessa flirted with the fireman for her eviction case. He was a little jealous she flirted with someone else, but since her flirting charmed the fireman into giving her more information than needed, she pulled in a massive win for the firm, and Gabe simply brushed it off and chalked up the flirting as part of her charm. It wasn’t until the cancelled business dinner that Gabe realized what was between them was more than just their typical flirting. He was catching real feelings for her, no matter how much he tried to deny it. While he did acknowledge his feelings for her, his heart was still too guarded and afraid to act on them. Tessa was the first girl he had serious feelings for since Katrina left him. He didn’t know if Tessa even felt the same way he did, nor did he know if he would be able to repair it again if his relationship with Tessa ended the same way like Katrina.

But deep down in his gut, he knew that Tessa was different from Katrina. It was a feeling he couldn’t put a logical reason on, but a gut feeling, one that you just know is true even if you couldn’t explain it. She was the first person Gabe felt genuinely happy with in a long time. Gabe not only believed in a future with her, he could also picture it. Everything he pictured and every interaction they have together doesn’t feel awkward or forced. It feels natural and…right. Aside from that, Tessa showed time and time again that she wants to be with him. If she didn’t, she would’ve turned down every invitation he gave her, and she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to make sure they spend a few moments alone together whenever they can. Tessa already made her feelings about him clear last night, and she was ready to risk the opportunity at becoming partner at one of the country’s premier law firms. She was more than willing to risk it if it meant having him.

Could he really do the same and risk his comfort for her?

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The morning sun spills into the living room of the hotel suite as the remains of Tessa’s in-room breakfast lay scattered across the coffee table. A re-run of celebrity chef Everett Flynt’s new TV show plays in the background as she busies herself in the bathroom, putting on the last touches of preparations for the day ahead. Once satisfied with her appearance, she pads back out into the bedroom and opens the closet to find an outfit for the day. When her fingers graze the powder blue dress she wore to the cocktail party last night, her task becomes forgotten as her mind flashes back to the night before, her stomach aching at the bitter taste of the memory.

The weekend conference had started off so well with everyone laughing and joking like the best of friends. The cocktail party went off without a hitch, and she managed to score some huge connections with distinguished judges and other lawyers. Everything about the weekend was absolutely perfect, until she decided to stick around and have a late-night snack and drink with Gabe and confessed her harbored feelings toward him. Looking back, the idea to share them was not one of her finer moments; she was certain Gabe and her would take the next steps of their relationship after confessing their feelings for each other, but instead, Gabe did the same thing he always does when they get close to crossing a line. He quickly doused the growing flame and pushed her away once again.

She grabs an outfit from the closet and starts getting dressed, her eyes glancing over at her bed and seeing a few jet-black streaks on the pillowcase, a reminder of what happened last night after she walked away from him. But it also reminds her she can’t keep running back to him and giving him chance after chance. As much as it hurts to walk away from him and what they potentially could have, she knows deep down she will be better off in the long run for doing so. She couldn’t open her heart and let someone inside only to have him lock her out of his. It was Gabe’s turn to return the favor, and this time, his words were no longer going to be enough. It was time for his actions to match his words and feelings, and until they did, Tessa has to move forward with her life.

She finishes getting dressed and fixes the loose strands of hair that got out of place. She glances at the alarm clock on her nightstand, seeing it is still too early for the company cars to come take them back to New York. Just as she was about to lounge on the couch and distract herself with Everett Flynt’s TV show, a loud knock reverberates through the space.

It couldn’t be…could it?

Mind curious, she makes her way over to the door and peeks out of the peephole, her stomach flipping circles as her pulse quickens at the sight of Gabe standing right behind the door. She takes a deep breath and opens the door to see him standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets and his feet shuffling nervously. His actions make her more nervous than excited; Gabe normally acts so confident and sure of himself, and to see him act completely not himself makes tension creep into her thoughts.

“Hi…” Gabe says with a rare, bashful smile as he flicks his eyes down to his shoes. “Can we…” he rubs the back of his neck, “can we talk?”

Seeing him in front of her makes her feel the sting of his rejection all over again, and she has half a mind to slam the door in his face and finally give him a taste of how it feels to be rejected. But when he lifts his eyes towards her, her heart twinges in sympathy. The trademark, mischievous twinkle in his eye is no longer there, and his shoulders look like they’re carrying the weight of the world on them.

“Please…” he quietly pleads.

He’s making the effort you wanted him to make she reminds herself. With a sigh, she gives him a small, almost inscrutable nod, and Gabe flashes her a soft, grateful smile as he shuffles past her, their arms brushing against each other. Tessa tries to force down the warm prick she felt as she shuts the door behind him and follows him to the living room, making sure to keep plenty of space between them, knowing that if she didn’t, she would never get the answers to her questions. Gabe takes a look around the room, taking in the half-eaten breakfast and the way she stands with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, the space between them feeling like a chasm as guilt blooms in his chest again. The air was filling with cold tension, and Gabe awkwardly clears his throat, eyes darting around to find something to break the quiet spell.

His eyes land on the TV, and he jumps at the opportunity it presents. “Taste of the World? Isn’t this the episode where Everett runs away from the show and the culinary producer he obviously has feelings for?”

“Seems fitting, doesn’t it?” Tessa blurts out with a humorless guffaw. Gabe flinches at the sting of her words, and she squeezes her eyes shut in regret, cursing at herself under her breath. As upset as she is, Gabe made the first move. The least she could do is hear him out. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I didn’t…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Gabe cuts in. “I deserve that and much more.” He takes a step closer to her, and when she doesn’t back up, he continues. “In any case, you have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault.”

“Maybe it is my fault,” Tessa concedes. “I was being too pushy and trying to force an answer out of you that you clearly weren’t ready to tell me.” She uncrosses her arms and drops them back to her sides, a sign that Gabe takes as a good one.

“You weren’t being pushy, Tessa. You were only being honest with me, and no one should ever be blamed for being honest. And you’re right. The show is fitting considering I’m the one who keeps running away when it’s the last thing I want to do.”

The harsh expression on her face softens into mild surprise. Was he fixing to tell her the real reason he keeps running away? “Gabe, all I want to know is why do you keep running when it’s clear that you and I both want this?”

Gabe swallows the lump in his throat, the memory of her rejection rearing its ugly head again. “Because that’s exactly what she did.”

Tessa furrows her brows. “Who’s she?”

“Katrina.”

“Who’s Katrina?” After a long pause, the lightbulb goes off in her head, and her eyes widen in recognition. “Oh…” Her mind goes back to the night of the business dinner and the far-off look Gabe had in his eyes at her question of commitment.

“Even in this city?” she asks him in pure surprise. “You’ve really never found someone who’s as all-in as you are?”

Gabe looks across the glittering skyline of New York. “I thought I had, once…” he turns his attention back to her, and Tessa can see the unspoken memory fade from his eyes, “but that was a long time ago. And as it turns out, I was wrong about her.”

“How…” she swallows hard, her heart aching in sympathy for him. “How bad was it, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Gabe scratches his stubbled chin and lets out a humorless, bitter chuckle. “Let’s just say I can’t get a refund on the ring anymore.”

Her eyes widen into the size of saucers, and her jaw drops open in complete shock. His actions and words suddenly became much more understandable. It explained why Gabe kept running away and avoided crossing the line between playful flirting and serious romance. He thought if he didn’t cross those lines and reject her first, she was going to be the one to do it eventually. He refused to act on his feelings because the last time he did, Katrina rejected his proposal and left him. Gabe didn’t build the walls around his heart to keep her out. He built them because he was afraid history was going to repeat itself, and he chose to live in his own little bubble of comfort instead of taking another risk, and Tessa couldn’t blame him one bit for it.

“I’m really sorry she did that to you, Gabe.” Her feet move closer to him, the space becoming smaller. “I had no idea.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he brushes off. “I’ve moved on from it. In any case, her rejection changed my life for the better. If she didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be at McGraw Byrne in the first place, and I never would’ve met you.”

Tessa fidgets with her ring. “Gabe…” she begins, but quickly trails off.

“What?” he asks her. “You know you can say or tell me anything right?”

“I know, but…” she takes another deep breath, forcing herself to say what she was thinking. “Do you really have feelings for me?”

“Absolutely,” Gabe says, no hesitation in his voice. It makes her heart flutter a bit.

“Have I given you any reason to doubt my feelings for you?”

“No.”

“So even knowing all that, you still choose to run away,” she says matter-of-factly.

Gabe flinches at her words, tucking his gaze away from her. “Yes.”

“Then you haven’t moved on. Not entirely at least.”

Gabe’s eyes snap over to hers as he furrows his brows. “What?”

Tessa sighs. “Look Gabe. You’re absolutely right. If Katrina hadn’t rejected your proposal, we never would’ve crossed paths in a hundred years. But…”

“But what?”

“You still let what she did control you,” Tessa points out. “You say that you’ve moved on, but have you really? I mean, just take a look at what happened last night. The minute we started talking about getting serious, you quickly pushed me away and ran. You did the same thing in Vegas, and you did the same thing at the business dinner too.”

Gabe runs his hand through his hair. “I know I did, and I will always regret my actions. But I’m willing to give us a chance if you still want that. I like you so much, Tessa, and I know the two of us have something special that is worth so much more than a partnership or my insecurities.”

She eyes him curiously. “And what happens if I do give you a chance, Gabe? Are you going to run again?”

“Absolutely not,” Gabe says firmly, his deep tone making her skin jump in shock. “I’m done running away, Tessa. For good.”

Butterflies flood her stomach as her heart swells at his words, but the sensations only make her feel more guilty for what she was about to say. “Gabe, you’re saying all the right words, and I want to believe them so badly. I really do. But…”

The hopeful expression on his face slowly fades as icy dread floods his veins. “But you can’t?”

Tessa nods dejectedly. “I’m sorry, Gabe. But until you actually show me instead of telling me that you really are done running, and that you really want there to be an ‘us’, we can’t…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Gabe takes two quick strides over to her, the space between them shrinking as he gently cups her cheeks in his hands. His thumbs run over her cheekbones, and she instinctively submits to his touch, her mind already forgetting its previous thoughts and focusing solely on the soft, tender caress of his thumbs. She can smell the sharp and heady scent of his cologne, the one that makes her want to bury her face in his chest and breathe him in. She can see each individual eyelash and the sparkling mixture of nerves and pure determination in his eyes. The little puffs of breath from his lips tickle her skin, and her blood rushes and pounds in her ears as she finds herself slipping into his warm, chocolate orbs.

“What…what are you doing?” she asks over the sound of her heart thundering in her chest.

He brings their faces closer together, only centimeters between them. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”

_________________________

The walls Gabe spent years hiding his heart behind start to crumble as he closes the last inch of space between them. He tentatively presses his lips against hers, a spark of electricity racing through her that makes her scalp prickle. The initial shock of his kiss makes her tense up, a small little whimper coming from her lips, but soon, she finds herself melting into the kiss when Gabe presses his lips firmer to hers. His lips feel like velvet, moving slowly and sensually against hers as her eyes flutter close and her body surrenders to his dizzying kiss. Her arms slide up around his shoulders and tease the little hairs on the back of his neck while he grips her waist and pulls her closer to him, his hand snaking up underneath her shirt and lightly pressing into the bare skin of her lower back. A rush of warmth spreads throughout her body from his touch, and Tessa lets out a small little moan when Gabe gently nibbles on her bottom lip and breaks the kiss. Their foreheads touch together, their breaths mixing as all their unspoken feelings and desires pass between them in this silent, intimate moment.

She shyly bites her lip and looks up at him through her lashes only to see him smiling back down at her, his eyes a swirling cocktail of happy relief and fiery desire. Since growing closer to him, she often caught herself wondering when their first kiss was going to happen and what it would be like, and she would gladly admit the real thing was so much better than her imagination and thoughts. It was full of sensual desire, yet sweet tenderness. It was warm and comforting, yet intoxicating and thrilling. It was gentle, yet confident and sure. It was a kiss full of everything she associated with the man holding her in his arms.

“Now do you believe me?” he asks her as he nuzzles his nose with hers. His voice is laced with his signature cockiness, but Tessa detects a slight hint of worry underneath it.

“I think I need a little more convincing than that.” She was more than convinced Gabe meant what he said earlier, but she found some fun in teasing him a little longer. She considers it playful revenge for making her wait all this time for him to finally acknowledge his feelings.

A low groan vibrates in his throat at the floodgate Tessa’s words opens up inside him, and both of them know there is no going back after this. The tip of his tongue darts out and silkily caresses his lower lip as his eyes darken more, the passion and desire he kept locked away and hidden now flowing through his veins and taking control of his thoughts and actions. Tessa shudders at the sound of his groan and the carnal look in his eye, her nerves switching to high alert as the air buzzes with excitement. His hands snake around her waist and down to her ass, pulling her hard against him and relishing in the feel of her body against his. His firm, hard bulge presses into the apex of her thighs, and she feels it grow harder with each passing second. She subtly grinds her hips into the hardness, a pleasant rush of heat pooling between her legs as soft groans fill the surrounding air.

All of his previous fears and doubts dash out of his mind as he firmly crushes his lips to hers in a searing, heated kiss, molding and shaping her lips to his every whim and wish. Her knees wobble at the sudden assault, but his strong arms wrapped around her waist hold her up securely as the air sparks like a colorful firework and showers them in a bright rainbow of light. Her body molds perfectly into his, like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly in the picture. Her mind goes dizzy with delight as her hands run over his clothed chest and come to rest on his sculpted shoulders. He shifts his hips ever so slightly, and the friction makes Tessa groan in pleasant surprise. Gabe takes advantage and lightly teases his tongue with hers as the two of them deepen the kiss. When their lungs scream for much-needed air, he sinks his teeth into her bottom lip and tugs it back, breaking the kiss and leaving them gasping for air.

“Convincing…enough for…you?” he asks her. “Or do…you need a…another sign?”

Her fingers draw lazy heart-shapes over his own heart, feeling it thunder beneath her touch. “I think…I need a little…more.”

She coquettishly flutters her eyelashes and delicately pulls her lower lip between her teeth. The sight makes his cock twitch and punch against the tight confines of his pants, needy and begging for some type of relief, preferably from her. He wraps his fingers around her wrist, halting her movements. Their eyes lock on each other, and slowly, Gabe moves her hand down his torso. She feels the muscles of his stomach subtly flexing and tightening in anticipation, even through the layers of fabric between them. He reaches his belt buckle and stops the movement, his eyes and action asking her the question she already knows the answer to. She gives him a nod, excitement filling up her stomach and making the butterflies flutter. She holds her breath as Gabe guides her hand past his belt buckle, the air becoming thick with anticipation. When her hand finally brushes over his bulge and feels it twitch, the air rushes out of her. Her finger teasingly traces the outline of his bulge, and Gabe sucks in a sharp breath. When she cups him through his pants, the muscles in his jaw tick, head lolling back with a hiss as he surrenders to the sensation of her gentle squeezes.

She runs her palm up and down over his bulge, feeling his cock grow harder and punch painfully against his zipper. With another firmer squeeze of his bulge, the chain holding him back breaks, and with a groan that sounds almost like a growl, their lips find each other again, the built-up passion and desire flowing unrestrained between them as their hands wander and roam over each other’s bodies. Their kisses break momentarily as Gabe’s sweater is pulled off his body and Tessa’s top goes flying across the room. Her fingers try to unbutton his shirt, but when his lips trail down across her jaw and down to the sensitive skin of her neck, she momentarily says “fuck it” and rips open his shirt, the buttons flying across the room and ricocheting off the walls and freeing his naked chest to her greedy fingers. He slides the shirt off his body and tosses it with a groan, feeling more turned on than angry at her action. His lips trail back up across her jaw and find her lips again, their tongues dancing together as the kiss deepens and becomes even more erotic and sensual. Her hands caress over his naked torso, the memory of every dip, ridge, and flex of his muscles becoming firmly ingrained in her mind.

Fantasies from long ago are now becoming real. Any semblance of time and reality escapes them. All that mattered is this moment between them. A moment neither of them wants to end. Ever.

“Gabe…” she mumbles between kisses. “You. Bedroom. Now.” Her fingers slide down his abs until they reach the sensitive sliver of skin hidden just behind the waistband of his pants. When shuddering goosebumps flare up over his skin, he grabs her wrist and halts her movement.

“Wait…” Gabe groans after giving her another kiss. “Are you sure…you want to do this? Because once we start…I don’t ever want it to end.”

The desire and longing in his voice is unmistakable. “Wh…what?”

“I just…” Gabe shakes his head, trying to get his words right. “I don’t want you to do anything or commit to anything you might regret later on,” he tells her. “I want this to happen so much. You know how bad I want you right now, but I understand completely if you don’t want—"

She tugs him forward by his belt and places a hard, chaste kiss to his lips, effectively cutting off his rambling spell. “Gabe, I wouldn’t have given you my keycard if I didn’t want this to happen.” She kisses the tip of his chin, the stubble scratching her lips. “I want this, Gabe.” She presses a kiss on his chest, right over his heart, and the action takes his breath away. “I want you. Only you.”

His grin grows bigger at her admission. “You’re the only one I want too,” he replies, trailing his finger lightly across her jaw that has her shivering in joy.

Her hands slide back up his torso and wind around his neck, deviousness flashing in her eyes. She hops up and wraps her legs around his waist, his strong arms flexing and catching her without missing a single beat. “Then take me into the bedroom and prove it, Ricci.”

He gives her a smoldering look, and with another moan, his lips kiss the hollow of her throat and trail over to her collarbone, his hands squeezing her ass teasingly and eliciting a gasp from her. She rolls her head back and submits to his scorching kisses and kitten bites on her neck as he makes the short journey into the bedroom. He pulls his lips away from her, and with a wolfish grin and a devilish wink, he tosses her onto the giant bed. Tessa senses the shift in dynamic between them at the sudden, but very much wanted, powerful surge of dominance from him. Seeing him confidently take charge was such a turn-on for her and makes warm tendrils coil and tighten in her core. Gabe quickly toes off his shoes while she sheds her shorts and playfully tosses them in his direction with a giggle. He chuckles at her playfulness and snatches them out of the air. When he turns his attention back to her, her shorts slip out of his grasp as his eyes widen in surprise, his cock twitching in extreme pleasure and appreciation at the sight in front of him.

“Fucking. Hell.” He groans, voice gravelly and filled with lust.

His hand reaches down and palms his cock as he drinks in Tessa kneeling in the middle of the bed, wearing nothing except her lacy plunge bra and matching panties as her hair falls over one of her eyes. The sight was so much hotter than the one in his fantasies, and he couldn’t wait to rip away the thin fabric and fully see what she was hiding beneath it. She beckons him with a manicured finger, and with the invitation, Gabe hurriedly climbs onto the bed and drapes his hard body overs hers as he kisses her relentlessly. Her peaked nipples brush up against his chest through the tight confines of her bra, pulsing and begging for his attention. He shifts his weight over to one side, propping himself on his forearm as Tessa wraps her arms around his neck. His other hand slides up her side and finds her breast; Gabe softly squeezes and massages it, his thumb and index finger teasing her nipple through the fabric and making it tight with pressure. A jolt of pleasure surges through her when Gabe pinches her nipple, a rush of electricity traveling through her and making her toes curl.

Her hand slides down and pushes on his shoulder, the weight and control shifting as Gabe falls to his back and Tessa drapes her legs over him to straddle his hips, feeling his hard bulge press against her center. She braces herself on the solid planes of his chest, feeling his heartbeat race wildly and his eyes burning holes into her skin as she grinds her hips against him, a smirk fighting its way onto her face as his soft moans and groans fill the room like a symphony and wrap around her like a blanket. Gabe flutters his eyes closed, succumbing to the incredible sensation of her hips moving over his cock. While he normally is the one to take control and dominate in the bedroom, seeing her on top of him, her hips giving him just the right amount of agonizing friction, and being completely at her mercy is the sexiest thing he has ever seen.

When he opens his eyes again, Tessa sees them glazed over with pure lust and unbridled attraction for her, the magnetic energy washing over both of them. “Goddamn…” he hoarsely whispers, the lust in his voice making tingles spiral down her spine.

“See something you like?” she coyly asks him.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t like this.” His fingers toy with the lacy waistband of her panties, occasionally dipping underneath and teasing the sensitive skin before caressing down her thighs. “I fucking love it. I think you look…oh shit…” his train of thought trails off as she shifts her hips again, sending another wave of bliss washing over him. “I think you look so goddamn sexy.”

The compliment makes liquid heat pool in her core as the air floods with heated desire and erotic passion. She lightly digs her fingernails into his solid chest, seeing the muscles flex before scratching down his torso, sending another shudder through him. “Mmm…having thoughts about me, are you?”

Gabe cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, I have plenty of thoughts about you. All of them dirty.” His hands stop their teasing caresses and travel up her thighs. “You in my bed begging for me.” His fingers graze over her panties, pulling back the waistband and letting it go with a light snap that makes her gasp. “You wet and pressed up against the wall in my shower.” His hands ghost up her sides until they reach her breasts. “You bent over my desk in my office.” He cups her breasts and flicks the peaked nipples straining underneath the fabric. “You on top just like this, riding me. Hard.”

The images flash through her mind, and the muscles in her core tighten in excitement at the possibility of making all of his fantasies come true. “Who knew Gabe Ricci had such dirty thoughts, or that he likes being controlled,” she tells him as her back arches and her chest pushes further into his massaging hands.

One of his hands snakes up behind her back and expertly undoes the clasp on her bra before carelessly tossing it across the room. “Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re in control.”

She arches an eyebrow at the challenge in his tone. Her hands wrap around his wrists, and with a flash of devious intent, she pins his wrists into the mattress above his head, her breasts hovering teasingly over him, just far enough out of his reach. “Aren’t I though?” she grinds against him again, the friction making their skin hot.

The tip of his tongue darts out and silkily swipes over his lips, her eyes transfixing on the movement. The slight distraction is just enough for Gabe to flip her over and pin her underneath him again. The loose tendrils of his hair cover his eyes, a few strands plastered to his slick forehead, giving him a wild and untamed look, and the look makes her squirm as the muscles in her core tighten. “Told you I was in control,” he shoots back. He dips his head down and teasingly kisses her lips, pulling away before she could deepen it. He guides her arms up and pins them above her head. “Keep them there,” he commands.

“What if I don’t?” she asks him. “What are you going to do about it?”

Gabe groans. “Let’s just say that I reward good behavior and punish bad behavior.” He smirks at her. “But something tells me you enjoy punishments far too much, so I guess I’ll have to come up with something a little different.”

His lips attach to the warm pulse point of her neck, and Tessa sinks into the mattress like it is a warm pool of blissful pleasure. He kisses down the muscle of her neck before licking a wet stripe back up the length of it and giving it little nips and bites as he trails back down. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone until he reaches the hollow of her throat. The tip of his tongue traces the outline before placing a kiss directly in the middle of it, and Tessa sucks in a sharp breath. He shifts his body downward as his kisses travel across her chest and down to her breast. He kisses and slowly licks wet circles around her breast, leaving no inch of skin untouched as he comes closer and closer to her nipple with each circle, and Tessa groans at his methodical torture as her nipples throb in pleasure. When he places a kiss directly on her peaked nipple, the air rushes out of her in a moan that sends vibrations flooding through his veins and directly to his cock.

He draws her nipple between his lips and sucks on it while his other hand kneads and molds her other breast, giving her the relief she has been craving from him. He alternates his movements, from sucking on her nipple to giving it gentle little nips and swirls of his tongue while his fingers tug and roll her other nipple. He sharply bites down on her nipple and soothes the sting with his tongue, and Tessa arches hard off the bed at the sweet torture. He shifts his body again as he releases the nipple from his mouth and kisses his way over to her other breast. He gives it the same agonizing torture as the other until both are even more swollen and throbbing. Her hands clench into fists as her eyes squeeze shut, fighting the urge to touch him as every little nip and suck makes her squirm in pleasure.

The tip of his tongue trails down through the valley between her breasts, the action sending blood rushing through her body and making heat pool in her core. As much as she tries to fight it, Tessa gives into the urge to move her hand, and she reaches out and threads her fingers in his dark, soft hair. Immediately, his hand wraps around her wrist and pins it back above her head, and she giggles in spite of herself. He glances up at her through his lashes, and Tessa can see the raw power in them. He kisses his way back up, tongue darting out briefly to flick over her nipples again, and over the hollow of her throat. He softly nips at the center of her neck and traces her jaw with teasing breaths until she feels his hot breath on the shell of her ear, goosebumps flaring up over her skin.

“And you were doing so well,” Gabe murmurs in her ear as he traces the shell of her ear with his tongue.

“You know I don’t do well following the rules.”

He nips at her earlobe. “Then I’m going to make you follow the rules.” He swings his leg over her and climbs out of the bed, her body already missing his warmth. “Don’t move,” he commands. “I’ll be right back.”

He pads out of the room, leaving Tessa lying there a building mess of excitement and nervousness. She hears Gabe mutter a curse before the sound of the TV is cut off, and she giggles at the absurdity of it. She strains her ears to hear anything else, but the only sounds she can make out are soft rustling of fabric and little clinks like glass. After a few more moments that felt like an eternity, Gabe knocks on the frame of the door, and she shifts up onto her elbows to see him standing there, his lips kinked to the side in a smirk and devilish intentions dancing in his eyes. He holds up his hands, and Tessa sees a glass filled with ice cubes in one hand and the belt to the complimentary bathrobe in the other. The thought of what Gabe was planning to do to her with those two items has her quivering in delight.

“I hope you’re ready, Tessa,” Gabe says. “Because we’re going to have some fun.”

_________________________

A/N

So hello everyone! I know this took a lot longer than anticipated, but unfortunately, life decided to throw a curveball at me recently, so I am very sorry for the delay.

For those who might guess, when I finished the 2nd part, it again turned into another 15k mess, so you all will be getting a Part 3 shortly, where we’ll go into even more of some smutty goodness and some fluffy pillow talk.

I hope you all really enjoy it as much as you did for part 1, and I will see you all soon for the finale!

Second chance tagging in case Tumblr becomes Tumbroke again: @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythadon @nishas-paradise @blainehellyes @suitfer @pixelnutrookie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @adiehardfan @panda9584 @curiousconch @weaving-in-words @mm2305 @thegreentwin

#laws of attraction #choices laws of attraction #gabe ricci x mc #gabe x mc #ns*fw #n*fw

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sery-chan-13 · 3 years

Text

Hatter Troubles

This is basically a chapter where your dad is Hatter himself, finding out about the relationship, or that they like you or something.

Arisu

You two thought it would be best if he didn't know. You loved your father, but the way he had been acting recently, about the games and the cards in total, made you two keep quiet.

You couldn't sleep. After your dad saying he was going to play in all the games coming forth starting tomorrow, your mind wouldn't stop playing through every worst case scenario. The thoughts running through your head made you stay up, staring up at the ceiling. 'Want Arisu...' you thought. He'd always made you feel better when you were sad or after a particularly hard game. So, you decided to go visit Arisu. Sure, it was the middle of the night, but who cares? Hopefully not him. And if you knew him, he was probably up. But there was a small chance he wasn't. You hoped he was up, so you wouldn't feel bad about waking him.

You got out of your bed quietly heading to your door. You opened it softly, looking out into the hall cautiously, hoping there was no militals walking around on their patrols. Especially Aguni. You could tell Niragi or Last Boss any lie, and they'd be easily tricked. Well, Niragi was a bit harder to trick, but he usually didn't care, and would mind his own business. You tread quietly to Arisu's room, knocking on the door once you got there.

You heard shuffling from behind the door, and saw the doorknob twist. The door opened, and there was a sleepy Arisu standing in front of you. He yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly, giving you a tired smile when he saw it was you. "Hello?" He greeted, although it sounded more like a question than anything. "Hi... I'm sorry for waking you up... can I come in?" You asked, feeling bad you woke him up. "Yeah, come on in. And it's no problem. If you woke me up, it must be serious," he said, stepping aside for you to be able to come into his room. "No one saw you, right?" He asked, yawning as you stepped into the room. You shook your head, and he closed the door.

He lead you over to his bed, sitting down. He asked you to do the same, but you rejected his offer, feeling a bit to anxious to sit down. "What's wrong?" He asked, sensing your nervousness. "It might be stupid, but when dad said about him joining all the games starting tomorrow... it's just made me uneasy. I can't sleep," you explained, pacing on the floor. He nodded, and grabbed your hands, bringing you into him. You fell onto his lap with a short shriek. "Risu! Stop, you can't do that!" You laughed, lightly pushing his shoulder. "Oh yes I can," he smiled back.

He smiled down at you on his lap, before sighing. "You know... when Chota hurt his leg, I was so worried. So... as a way to get over the fear and anxiety, I talked to them about it. I think... If you talk to your dad about how you feel, it could make you feel better," Arisu advised, rubbing your shoulders. He was just trying to make you feel better about the situation, sharing his personal experience, hoping it would help you. He gave you a kiss to your forehead. "Mmm... you're the best boyfriend ever," you muttered into his neck. "Well, it's my duty as the best boyfriend to take care of the bestest, most amazing girlfriend in the world," he laughed, as he begun to tickle you. You screamed, laughing and trying to get him to get away from his attack. "A-arisu!" You squealed, trying to get him to stop. The once quiet hotel room was filled with laughter, and screams.

You two had started chasing eachother around the room, you trying to escape his attack, and him trying to tickle you. You had fallen on the bed, tripping over something on the floor. In an attempt to save yourself, you had grabbed Arisu's shirt. So that's how you ended up in the position you were in now. You were under Arisu, your arms above your head, and to stop from crushing you, he held himself up on his forearms, caging you in. "Woah, I was not expecting to walk into that," a voice said from the entrance of the room. You froze, turning your head slowly to the door. "H-hi dad," you stuttered as Arisu got off you. Arisu stayed quiet, and looked down, waving awkwardly. "I- I promise we weren't doing anything. I tripped and he fell a-and we got like... that..." you explained, a blush on your face. "Ok... I mean, it's none of my business what you two do," Hatter stated after clearing his throat awkwardly. You let out a quiet sigh of relief. "I don't mind you being with him, just be careful," Hatter said. "Thank you," you said, walking over and hugging your dad. "Now, get to your room. It's late, and I might let you be with him, but sleeping in the same room is a no for now," your dad said, giving you a soft smile. "Ok... Bye Arisu! Thank you for your advice. Goodnight dad," you said as you walked out the door.

"If I break her heart I'll throw myself off the roof, don't worry."

"I... was not expecting that, but ok. Deal."

"But on that note, I would never hurt her. I promise I'll always protect her."

"You keep that promise for me, ok kid?"

Niragi

(Reader has a noise sensitivity for sudden loud noises for this specific one)

Hatter had honestly never paid attention to you two. He assumed you would never be into a guy like Niragi, so what did he do? Ignored it.

It had been just another boring meeting, talking about the games, theories, how many had died. All normal things at the meeting. Except when a topic that had everyone going back and forth came up. Niragi, seemingly having enough of everyone being so indecisive on something he viewed so easy, stood from his chair, slamming his hands onto the table. You jumped in your seat, closing your eyes tightly. You grabbed onto the edge of the table tightly, your knuckles turning white. He noticed, but kept on with his business.

At the end of said meeting, he found you out in the hall. 'I've got nothing to lose by talking to her. Well.. except maybe my head, but besides the point. Let's see where this goes.' He thought, hoisting his riffle onto his shoulder as he walked over to you. You noticed him, and smiled to yourself. "Hello Niragi - San," you greeted, turning to face him. His brain froze, but he shook his head, ridding from the rather nasty thoughts he was having. "Hey there," he said. Your eyes looked him over, focusing on the gun. "You got safety on that thing?" You asked, nodding over to his gun. He shook his head. "Why would I? No rules," he reminded. "I prefer archery to guns, but anyways, was there something you needed Niragi?" You asked, holding your hands behind your back. "Uh, yeah. Why did you jump in the meeting? Don't lie saying you didn't, because I saw," he asked, looking at you. His eyes seemed to study every detail of your body. "Oh.. you saw that? I'm sensitive to sudden loud noises," you explained. He made an 'oh' sound, nodding awkwardly. "Well... good luck at the games tonight!" You chirped, patting the top of his head. He stared in shock, watching you walk away. "Did she just?" He muttered to himself, "I think she did."

"Hatter, I can take care of her," he responded to the man in front of him. "I don't trust you with my daughter. She's special to me, I don't trust you won't kill her, so no," Hatter said, a smile on his face, though the subject was making him rather annoyed. "Listen, I wouldn't hurt her. Besides Aguni, I'm one if not the most powerful of the militals," Niragi stated. "Then I'll just send her with Aguni, I'm glad we had this talk!" Hatter deflected, wanting Niragi to give up. But, he underestimated how stubborn Niragi was. "Then you'll have no one to go with you in your games. I can and will protect her. Send her with me tonight. Her visa expired soon," Niragi almost begged, but he didn't. He had some self respect as to not beg, especially over a girl. Maybe back in the old world he would, but now? No way. Hatter thought for a moment, taking into account how out of character it was for Niragi to act this way. "Fine. But if she comes back with so much as a scratch, you will feel what it's like to be at the receiving end of your gun," Hatter threatened. Niragi left the room after, and shuddered. He was not really scared of anything, but an angry overprotective father had now been added to the list.

There were many situations where your noise sensitivity was bad. Case 1 being the horns that sounded before the games. Case 2 being guns. And case 3 being yelling. So that's why you stood shutting your eyes tightly, holding your hands over your ears. "N-niragi, stop too loud..." you whispered besides him, hoping he heard you. He heard you, and stopped, looking to you. You were shaking your leg, eyes screwed shut, and hands over your ears. "I'll deal with you later," Niragi spat at the guy in front of you two as he led you off to a desolate corner. "You ok?" He asked. "I didn't think you cared, but yes, I'm ok," you responded, still twiddling your fingers. "I don't care. But your dad does," he said. Obviously he cared. "Oh... um... thank you for that. He was getting a bit... touchy," you thanked. Truth was, Niragi has been watching the guy ever since he went up to talk to you. Niragi was a great liar, as much as people thought he was a moron with a gun. Once he saw the guy touching you, and your face of obvious discomfort, he decided to step in.

"Learn how to defend yourself against people like that," he stated, going to leave. "People like you, you mean?" You said, stopping him in his tracks. The way you had said it without fear or hesitation made him turn back to you. "People like me?" He questioned. He tried to hide his smirk. It was interesting to say the least. You were just acting like a scared little mouse. What happened to her? "People like you. People who think hiding their weaknesses makes them less weak. People who bully the weak, because they've been the weak. People who hate the weak, only because it reminds them of what they were. So when I say people like you, I mean people who have finally snapped. They're tired of getting pushed around, so they use their newfound power to push others around,'' you stated. You kept eye contact with him the whole time, watching for a reaction. He had none. 'How boring...' you thought before you sighed, walking away. Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist, pushing you into the wall. He trapped you, having his arms on either side of your head. "You don't know anything about 'people like me' but I know a lot about you. Especially your weakness," he whispered. You stared back, unsurprised by his actions. "People like you are so predictable," you both said at the same time. "Predict what I'll do next then," you said. "You'll hit me, try to run away, and I'll chase you," he guessed. "Wrong," you whispered, grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling him to you. "So wrong, it's funny," you whispered, your lips centimeters away from his. He ran his tongue over his teeth. "You piss me off. Switching in between the shy, sweet one to the independent, badass, tease," he said. You giggled, letting him go. You started walking off, leaving with the words, "See you tonight at the game!" He stared off at where you had been not even a minute ago, thinking about what had just happened.

"Dad, I promise I'm ok! Niragi protected me," you giggled as your dad checked for the hundredth time that you were ok. Niragi stood behind, waiting for this to be over. Hatter sighed. "I guess you protect her just fine," he said, walking off. Niragi rolled his eyes, starting to leave the room again. "Thank you, Niragi. I wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't helped me back there... I made a stupid mistake. Um... I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I wasn't trying to be rude... or a tease," you said, grabbing his arm. He chuckled, turning to face you. You let his arm go, seeing as he was paying attention to you. "No problem. I'm the one who asked to go with you, so it would be stupid of me to let you die. And apology half accepted. I'll be off now," he said, going to leave once more. "Hey, um... do you want to walk around?" You asked. "Can't. I'm going for target practice outside the Beach," he said, nodding his head to the riffle over his shoulder. "Then I'll go with you," you stated. "Loud noises. You don't like them, remember?" Niragi said, trying to get you to stay. What had happened earlier today was still definitely fresh in his mind. "... I can deal with it... please? I just want to talk? Please?" You pleaded, looking at him with the puppy eyes. 'Goddammit... say no, say no, resist against the cute girl.' "Fine. But only this once. Let's go walk around," he said, giving in. 'You fucking idiot...'

By just this once, he meant it happened all the time. You two had gotten closer, and Hatter had definitely noticed.

Niragi watched the party going on in the pool area from the balcony of one of the rooms. You had explained your noise sensitivity to him in a bit more details. Like, listening to loud music was ok, because it wasn't sudden. Which is why you were who he was watching currently. He saw you waving at him with a smile. He waved back, smiling to himself. He could see you laugh, before one of the girls pushed you into the pool. He winced. "She's not going to be happy about that..." he muttered to himself before laughing a bit. "She likes you, you know," a voice said behind him. He quickly cocked his gun, aiming it, before seeing it was Hatter. He let out a sigh of relief, putting the gun down. "Just me. No need for alarm," Hatter laughed. "Like I was saying, she likes you. Won't shut up about you in fact," Hatter repeated. "Sure she does," Niragi stated sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Believe what you want. But, in any case, she does. And before I wouldn't have let you near her, but after seeing how you've stopped some of your usual habits, and how you protect her, I'll allow it. It's only fair," Hatter said, before leaving.

"I didn't change shit. Crazy old man," he whispered to himself. 'Well, we did stop banging on doors if she's near. And started killing the traitors when and where she won't hear. We tried to stop making loud noises at meetings if she's there. And we still go on walks when she asks us to, even though we said only once.' His mind told him. He scowled at his thoughts, realizing they were right. He walked back over to where he was, scanning the party for you. "Damnit... where'd she go?" He muttered to himself, not being able to see you. "Where'd who go, Gigi?" A voice said besides him. He turned to the side quickly aiming his gun again. "Jesus fuck, (Y/N)!" He shouted, seeing was you. You squeaked at his sudden shouting, hiding behind your hands. They shook slightly, and he cursed himself for yelling at you. "You can't sneak up on me like that, you could get hurt you damn idiot," he sighed, putting his gun down. " 'M sorry..." you apologized. "It's... it's fine, just be careful," he said, patting your head awkwardly. Your hair was wet, and you were dripping water onto the cement floor of the balcony. A few minutes went by, and neither of you had spoken. You stood in comfortable silence looking down at the party going on. Niragi had been trapped in his thoughts. They went between wanting to scold you for the nickname you had used, and telling you how he felt. After a few minutes, you spoke up.

"Can I do something a bit crazy?"

"Uh... Crazy is good most times, so... go ahead."

"Good."

Those words were all that was said before you pulled him into a kiss.

"I like you. A lot, actually."

"..."

"Are you ok?"

"Mhm. Totally fine. I like you too.''

"Does this mean I can call you Gigi now?"

"No way in hell princess." (No way in hell senpai-)

Chishiya

It was almost an instant connection with Chishiya and yourself. You two had a relationship in which everyone could see you guys liked eachother, but no one had confessed. You two acted like a couple too, so many people were confused. He didn't say anything, not because he was scared... ok, well maybe a little bit, but because he didn't want to have a weakness. You also had the impression he only liked you as a friend, so no matter if you liked him or not, you assumed he wouldn't like you.

"Chishiya, gave you seen (Y/N)?" Niragi asked. "No. Why are you looking for her?" He responded. "None of your business," Niragi scoffed, walking off. "I suddenly have the urge to find (Y/N) to piss him off," he stated to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets, and walking off to go find you.

He eventually found you in the meeting room. "Hi Chishiya," you greeted, your back still turned to him. "How'd you know?" He asked, walking besides you. "You walk quietly, and your walking pattern is distinct. And you don't smell like alcohol, chlorine, or booze," you stated. "Noted... Anyways, Niragi is looking for you," he stated. You groaned, hanging your head. "Is he? Alright... guess I'll see you later? There's a meeting tonight, so... see ya then," you said before leaving. He watched as you walked out, your footsteps getting softer the further you got. "Something's up with her, but what I can't figure out,"he muttered to himself.

When he returned to the meeting room, there was a couple of people. Hatter wasn't going to be at tonight's meeting due to some other business, so the number two was in charge of this meeting. Among those people were you and Niragi. You laughed at whatever Niragi had said, making Chishiya huff. He sat down in his usual spot, glaring at Niragi who was still talking to you. Why did he feel the need to talk to you so much? Hadn't he been out the whole afternoon with you?

You finally sat down besides Chishiya smiling at him. "Hello again," you greeted. "So what did the psychopath want with you?" He asked, a tone of anger in his voice. "Target practice. Dad wants me to be prepared, and since Niragi is one of the best shots here, he's been teaching me. Not alone of course, Aguni is there. Obviously," you explained.

A few minutes into the meeting, you yawned, looking out sleepily. "Stay up late again?" Chishiya whispered, keeping his eyes out on the table. "No... they just have me on night patrols... I'm so tired," you whispered back. He nodded, going back to paying attention to the meeting.

Not even a minute later, he felt a weight fall onto his shoulder. He looked out of the corner of his eyes to see you asleep on him. He smiled to himself slightly, before looking back to the meeting, acting as if nothing had happened.

After the meeting was over, Aguni asked if someone could take you back up to your room. Many of the men there offered to do it, but Chishiya stepped in. "I'll take her. She fell asleep on my shoulder, and honestly the 'princess of the Beach' shouldn't get touched by the dirty hands of these men," Chishiya states, using sarcasm and his usual tone of knowing better. Aguni held back a laugh at his words, but nodded. "You sure you can carry her?" Niragi asked. Chishiya knew this wasn't Niragi wanting to take you back to your room, it was Niragi poking fun at him. "I've carried heavier medical equipment. Please shut the fuck up and let me through," Chishiya said, hoisting you up. Niragi scoffed, walking away.

Chishiya carefully placed you in your bed, covering you up with blankets. " 'Shiya... Stay," you muttered, grabbing his hand. He froze up for a minute, looking down at your sleepy eyes. With your other hand, you held your body up. "Only... only for a little bit. Until you fall asleep," he muttered, getting into bed behind you. You turned, hugging him tightly. "Thank you 'Shiya... you're the best," you yawned, quickly falling asleep. He ran his hand over your hair, not wanting to get it caught and wake you up.

"You need to take better care of yourself... honestly, it's one thing if I don't, but you? You need to live through these games," he whispered, knowing full well you wouldn't wake up. "You're so sweet.... I really wonder why you stay around me... You're asleep, so it doesn't matter what I say, but I hope you know I... I quite like you. A lot actually. So... yeah," he whispered his confession, softly getting away from you. "Dream a little dream of me," he sang as he left the room. A song he'd heard once. But it was fitting. He hoped you dreamed of him.

When he went to leave, he heard someone call out for him. He turned to see Hatter, Aka, your father, Aka, the person who could kill him for what just happened in your room.

"So, she asleep?" Hatter questioned. "Yep. No funny business, I promise. I just stayed with her till she fell asleep like she asked of me," Chishiya stated, placing his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh, I have no doubt. She trusts you, so I don't have a reason to kill you. Yet," Hatter said, a bit too cheerfully for Chishiya's tastes. "Trust me?" He asked. "Yeah. Likes you too," Hatter mentioned. Chishiya felt a weird feeling in his stomach. Like... is that what they called butterflies?

"Likes me? Really. Interesting," Chishiya commented. "Won't shut up about you, actually. Chishiya this, Chishiya that. It's annoying sometimes, but... it's nice to see her happy," Hatter said, smiling too himself. Happy? You felt happy around him?

"She hasn't been this excited or happy about anything since... since she was very young. I don't really mind you, just... don't hurt her," Hatter stated, walking away. Chishiya was still trying to reel in the fact that you liked him. You talked about him. To your father. "I'll... I'll confess when she's awake next time."

Last Boss

"Taka! What're we doing today?" You asked when you reached the target field. He jumped, startled by your voice. "Oh... hello (Y/N)... and we'll be doing basic blocking and striking today again," he mentioned. You smiled, and nodded. You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and watched his face slowly turn pink. "You're so cute," you teased. He looked away, stretching his hand out to you. You grabbed it happily, pulling him along.

There was only two people allowed to touch his katanas. You and him. That's it. You because you were his lovely amazing girlfriend, and Jim because... they're his. Obviously.

His body was behind your own to position you as he was teaching you, making sure you were correct before moving on.

"OK and then I can do thi-" you didn't get to finish your sentence because as you went to strike, you fell. Instead of letting Last Boss witness the utter act of embarrassement, you brought him down with you.

You landed on top of him, still holding onto his shirt. "Well... we've been in this position before haven't we?" You questioned with a sweet smile on your face. He blushed, knowing what you were referring to. He sat up, you still in his lap. "Come on, there's no need to be shy about it Samu," you giggled, kissing his forehead. "Well no... but yes?" He responded. You shook your head, kissing his lips. He pulled away almost immediately, making you pout. "We could get caught," he said, his hands resting on your waist.

"And?"

"You're dad would quite literally kill me. And if not him, Aguni. You're aware of how scary that man is, right? And how protective both of them are of you?" He stated. You frowned, knowing that Last Boss did not enjoy PDA. Especially since no one knew about you two.

He sighed, caressing your face with one of his hands. "I... fine. But we have to be careful."

A few innocent kisses and touches turned into a full make out session that left you both gasping for air, and wanting more.

"(Y/-"

"So uh... is this what you meant by Last Boss helping you?"

You had never jumped away from anything faster than you did when you heard your father's voice.

"H-hey dad," you stammered, looking around, not wanting to meet his gaze. "Hi, so just wanted to let you know we have a meeting in a bit, and to be ready. That's it," he said nonchalantly. A but to nonchalant for your tastes.

Your DAD had just walked in on you two making out, and that was his only response? No fucking way.

"I-im sorry about... about that," you apologized, looking down in shame. "Don't apologize for that. Who cares. As long as you're safe and happy, I could care less who you're with. Plus, he's decent. And pretty smart, so I'm ok with it," Hatter explained, patting your head. You smiled up at him. "Thanks dad," you said. "No matter what, you'll always be my little princess, so... go have fun. I'll let you two be," Hatter stated. "Oh, before I leave, Last Boss?"

"Yeah?"

"Hurt her, and I'll hurt you back, got it?"

"Yessir."

I love the idea of Hatter being a supportive dad who's just like "as long as they love you and you love them, who gives a fuck?"

And honestly. I just needed some fluff today.

#alice in borderland #niragi #chishiya #last boss #arisu #fluff #×reader #Hatter #hes a supportive dad #change my mind #i just realized how short Last Boss' is #:(#ill fix it eventually

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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Hjarta | Chapter 7

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

FIVE DAYS LATER

BJORNHEIMR, THE TEMPLE

Eivor cradled the basket in his hand, meticulously examining its contents to ensure that everything was in order.

At the moment, he was preparing to make an offering to Thor as thanks for their good fortune on the day of the ambush, and had arranged a humble collection of different gifts for the mighty god.

Inside the basket, he had placed a variety of meat, beer, mead, sweets, and a dagger from his own personal armory. Normally, Eivor wasn’t the type to depend entirely on the gods for safety, but considering recent events, he wanted to secure a strong relationship with them in case a tempest were to strike the village. He had no idea if Kjotve was planning any other attacks in addition to the ambush, and he could think of no one better to appeal to other than the Defender of Midgard.

He just worried that his offering might not have been sufficient. It was a well-known fact that the thunder god enjoyed things in great quantity, and Eivor didn’t have that much to give at the moment. Ingrida always said that no offering was too small, but even then, the man prayed that his gift wouldn’t be considered measly. Things were precarious enough in Bjornheimr as it was; Eivor did not wish to vex the gods as well.

Working his way up the hill, the Wolf-Kissed spread a layer of cloth over the basket’s opening and held it tightly underneath his arm, careful not to disturb its contents.

He could hear the drinks sloshing inside their bottles to the rhythm of his footsteps, and a handful of scattered clinks reached his ears as they softly bumped into each other. Meanwhile, tiny snowflakes began to gather on the fabric lying above, and sunk into the cloth’s neatly-knit threads. They dotted the surface with jeweled specks of ice and clung onto Eivor’s skin, giving him a slight chill.

The weather wasn’t exactly ideal for spending any time outside -- the snow seemed to be piling up higher than usual today -- but the young man carried on with his plan nonetheless.

Reaching the top of the hill, Eivor strolled past the charms decorating the sides of the path, only to stop in his tracks when a nearby pair of voices caught his attention.

Up ahead, Eivor saw Ingrida and Sigurd talking with each other underneath the roof of the temple, just barely avoiding the snow that came blowing their way. The prince wore a wary expression on his face and spoke to the seeress about a matter of deep concern, causing a sense of anxiety to swell in Eivor’s chest.

It was fairly clear to the Wolf-Kissed that his friend spent a lot of energy concealing the many troubles in his life, but the fact that he felt the need to reach out to their völva worried him to a significant degree.

He hadn’t seen Sigurd ever since their conversation in the tavern after all, and he was oblivious to any new issues that may have risen during their time apart. It was unusual to see the prince in such a state, and Eivor had to admit that his curiosity was beginning to get the best of him.

He only hoped that Ulfar wasn’t the source of his perturbed nature. The man made his feelings about Sigurd quite plain back in the tavern, and Eivor had never known him as a person to shy away from confrontation. It was a blessing of a trait in most situations, but a hinderance in this one.

“...You’re certain there’s no other explanation?” Sigurd asked, clearly unhappy with the response he got.

Ingrida crossed her arms, reiterating her point. “I will tell you the same thing I told Eivor. I cannot speak in absolutes, for I do not know the gods’ intentions. I can attempt to decipher the messages they convey, but ultimately, it is impossible to offer anything unambiguous.”

The prince let out a troubled sigh. “I... I see.”

“I realize this must be disturbing news, but look at it this way. At least you are prepared now. You have an inkling of what to expect, and sometimes, a mere suspicion can be enough to save one’s life. Obviously, I do not mean to stoke any paranoia within you, but a little caution would be wise.”

Sigurd nodded, taking the woman’s words to heart. “Of course, but you understand if I say this is difficult for me to accept. I don’t doubt your prediction, seeress, but... I just can’t fathom why anyone would--”

The man came to an abrupt pause, stopping mid-sentence when his eyes fell upon Eivor in the distance.

“--Oh,” he said, his voice still laden with unease, “Eivor. I didn’t see you there.”

Ingrida followed Sigurd’s line of sight, smiling in the Wolf-Kissed’s direction. “Ah, hello, little cub.” She eyed the basket in his hands. “Come to make an offering?”

Eivor hugged the object close to his chest, admittedly growing somewhat weary of bearing its weight.

“Yes, seeress. I hoped to thank Thor for our survival in the forest.”

The woman appeared pleased. “An excellent idea. Go on and present your gift to the gods. I will ensure that nothing disturbs it.” Ingrida brought her eyes back to the prince. “As for you, Sigurd, try not to let this revelation suppress you. You are a man of many responsibilities. Your clan needs you to stay focused.”

“...Of course. You’re right.”

“I’m glad you understand.” Ingrida began making her way back inside the temple, strolling through the arch. “This war is nearly over, but the battle has not ceased. Do not surrender just yet. Either of you.”

Shutting the door behind her, the seeress disappeared behind the temple’s walls and returned to her duties, leaving Eivor and Sigurd alone. Meanwhile, the younger man approached his friend and glanced at him in an inquisitive manner, hoping to calm his nerves somewhat.

“Sigurd?” He asked. “Are you alright? A cloud of unrest hangs over you.”

The prince took a moment to gather his thoughts, not wanting to alarm his companion too much. “I’m... I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.” He glanced at the basket in his grasp. “What’ve you got there?”

Eivor lifted the cloth. “Just some food and drink for Thor, and a blade as well. I figured I should bring something of great quantity considering our luck that day. What about you? What brings you to the temple? You looked... frightened when I arrived.”

Sigurd sauntered towards the other man, speaking as he walked. “Nothing of immediate urgency. I’ve just been having these strange dreams lately. Visions.”

“Visions? Really? Of what?”

“A wolf.” He answered. “At first, I merely dismissed the dream as a simple nightmare, but it’s been occurring over and over again. In the same way, and in the same order. So, I came to Ingrida for answers.”

Eivor’s interest was hooked. “Tell me about this wolf. What did it do? What did it look like?”

“The wolf was as white as snow,” Sigurd described. “Its eyes split the darkness with a predatory glare, and its stature challenged that of a fully grown man. Its snout and teeth were stained red with the pigment of fresh blood, and hiding behind its features, I... I could almost... recognize someone.”

“Recognize?” Eivor repeated. “What do you mean? This was a wolf, was it not? How could it resemble a human?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, but... I felt it. There was something familiar about the wolf’s face. It was a sensation that I have no proper words to describe.”

The young man tilted his head towards the temple. “And? What did Ingrida have to say about these visions?”

Sigurd was quiet for a second, hesitant to tell the truth.

“...She believes this vision foretells a betrayal.”

Eivor’s eyes widened in surprise. “A betrayal? At whose hands?”

“She doesn’t know, and neither do I. I have no reason to suspect anyone just yet, but somehow, that almost makes it even worse.”

“How did the seeress come to this conclusion?” Eivor questioned. “What makes her believe betrayal is the only answer?”

“Because she had a similar vision,” Sigurd explained. “Ingrida tells me the gods sent her a dream the night before I arrived. Apparently, she saw a man who looked just like me. He bore the same mark upon his neck, and his eyes glowed with a raging fire. The ground beneath him was soaked in blood dripping from the stump of his own arm, and standing behind him was another white wolf, prowling in the shadows.”

A thought crossed Eivor’s mind. “...I suppose that explains why she called you ‘the one who walks with Tyr.’ It also explains why she was skeptical of you when you first met.”

“I suppose it does,” the prince agreed. “But what connection could I possibly have with Tyr? And why me? What makes me so special?”

Eivor shrugged. “I don’t know. You mentioned you used to have dreams about a kingdom constructed of iron when you were a child. Do you think that could be related?”

“...Perhaps? But I don’t see how it would fit into all this. The kingdom I saw looked nothing like any of the places I’ve ever heard about. Not Helheim, and certainly not Valhalla. It likely originates from a place beyond this realm, but the purpose of its existence continues to elude me.”

Sigurd sighed deeply, resting his hands on his hips. “...Forgive me. I don’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You probably have enough on your shoulders.” He switched to a lighter subject, deciding to put his fears to rest for the time-being.

“How have you been, Eivor? Is your wound feeling any better? I planned to check on you multiple times, but I fear that my duties always got in the way.”

“No worries. It’s just started to heal. Ingrida says it’s going to leave quite a prominent scar in its absence, but well, it’s better than dying.”

A smirk twinkled on Sigurd’s face. “...I like it.”

“Really?”

“Why not? It gives you character. It makes you look like a warrior.”

Eivor chuckled. “That, or a fool who wasn’t able to handle himself in a fight.”

Sigurd’s smile only brightened. “Nonsense. Each scar you bear is a battle that you survived. Wear it with pride.” He patted his friend on the arm. “But enough about that. I was actually planning to visit you after speaking with the seeress.”

The Wolf-Kissed quirked a brow. “What for?”

“I wanted to take you up on your offer. For fishing. I was down at the docks earlier today, and saw some decent-looking fish roaming in the water. Still in the mood for it?”

Eivor nodded, grinning joyously at the man. “Without a doubt. We can find a boat and take it into the fjord. There are plenty of spots I can show you. Just let me finish my offering for Thor first.”

“Of course. I’ll meet you there when you’re ready. In the meantime, I’ll gather some supplies. See you soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

THE DOCKS

Pacing eagerly towards the pier, Eivor strolled excitedly through the village with an unusual spring in his step, smiling to himself as he briskly made his way past all the other buildings.

It had been a while since he last got the chance to spend any time with Sigurd, and he imagined that the two of them would have plenty of catching up to do. Even though they hadn’t bumped into each other for the past few days, Eivor always spotted the prince zipping back and forth around Bjornheimr, tending to his never-ending list of duties.

The man always looked so busy. Eivor was well-aware that a prince’s life wasn’t nearly as laid-back as other people expected, but even Sigurd’s schedule seemed to be overflowing with a ludicrous amount of responsibilities. He hardly had any time to even sit down, and the sockets around his eyes had darkened slightly due to a lack of sleep.

Eivor just hoped Sigurd was okay.

Finally arriving at the docks, the Wolf-Kissed came to a halt and gazed at this surroundings, trying to single out the prince’s head of red hair from the crowd. He eventually located the tall man standing at the edge of the pier with a basket and a pair of fishing rods, but to Eivor’s surprise, he wasn’t alone.

Dag seemed to have also joined the party, in spite of the sour expression plastered on his face. He was conversing with Sigurd in an agitated tone, and his brow had crinkled in a manner that displayed obvious annoyance. Strangely enough though, the prince didn’t appear to mirror his temperament.

Just what was going on?

“Sigurd!” Eivor called out, causing both of them to turn their heads.

“Ah,” Sigurd replied radiantly, “Eivor. There you are. I was just asking Dag if he wanted to join us. I hope that’s not a problem?”

The younger man would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat disappointed, but he didn’t have the heard to tell him “no.” He knew Dag was a close friend of Sigurd’s after all, and he didn’t want to interfere. But still... part of him had been looking forward to spending the day with the prince alone.

“No,” Eivor lied, “not at all. He can come if he likes.”

“Great.” Sigurd brought his gaze to Dag. “So, what do you say? Care to go fishing with us?”

To Eivor’s relief, the man refused.

“I appreciate the offer,” Dag said flatly, “but I can’t accept. I have other things to do. You two go on without me.”

“Are you sure?” Sigurd asked, somewhat put off by his friend’s dour mood. “The weather has calmed down since this morning. Now’s the perfect opportunity to take a break. We’ll only be gone for a short while.”

Dag nodded in a dismissive fashion. “Yes, I’m sure. I have many things to take care of, and I’m afraid they cannot wait. Like I said, you two can go without me.”

Sigurd’s eyes dimmed at his friend’s response. “...Well, alright. If you’re certain.”

“I am. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

Storming off like a pouty toddler, Dag practically stomped away from the scene and swiftly made himself scarce, leaving Sigurd and Eivor with an uncomfortable silence. The two of them watched in confusion as the man disappeared in the distance, and not too longer after he vanished, they exchanged glances with each other, bewildered by what just happened.

“What was that about?” Eivor asked. “Is something wrong with Dag?”

Sigurd sighed in frustration, reaching down to grab the basket. “You know what? I’ve been asking myself the same thing. Dag’s been acting this way ever since the feast, and I don’t know why. This kind of behavior is unusual for him.”

“Have you talked to him?”

The older man lifted the basket onto his shoulder, walking towards the end of the pier as Eivor followed him from behind.

“Not yet, no. And even if I did, I’m not sure he would give me a straight answer. Dag’s never been the type to open up so easily. I’m just wondering if it’s because of something I did.”

His friend was quiet for a moment. “Does Dag always behave like this?”

Sigurd shook his head. “No, actually. He’s still the same man I know most of the time, but... recently, he’s been going through these random bouts of anger. And they’re always directed at me.”

The prince placed the basket down on a boat waiting beside the pier, carefully stepping onto it as it gently bobbed up and down with the water’s movement.

“I just wish he would talk to me. Dag is a dear friend of mine, and I don’t want anything to be wedged between us. Especially not after hearing Ingrida’s prediction.”

Eivor gave him a sympathetic look. “Try not to let it worry you. I’m sure Dag’s just stressed out from the constant battling with Kjotve. I know we all are. He’ll open up to you when he’s ready.”

Sigurd let out a breath. “...I hope so. I have enough on my plate at the moment. I don’t have time to be running around in circles with Dag. The sooner he opens up, the better.”

He suddenly glanced up at his companion, deciding to leave the subject alone. “But push that aside. You came here to fish, not to listen to my life problems. Are you ready to go?”

The younger man stepped off the dock and took a seat across from Sigurd, excited for the ride ahead.

“Ready when you are.”

“Wonderful. Thank you for coming with me, by the way, Eivor. I apologize if I seem more stern than usual. I fear that this past week taken a toll on me.”

Eivor took no offense. “There’s no need to apologize. We’re all going through a lot. It’s only normal. Just try to forget about it for now.”

“I’m glad you understand. You seem to be the only one these days. But... you’re right. Today is a day meant for relaxing. Let us not spoil it. Come on, why don’t you show me those fishing spots you mentioned? I’m eager to see them.”

The Wolf-Kissed grabbed the oar and smirked at Sigurd, pushing their boat away from the pier. “As you command, my prince.”

~~~~~~~~~~

BJORNHEIMR, THE FJORD

Venturing deep into the fjord’s divine embrace, Sigurd and Eivor traversed across the water’s glassy surface, steadily gliding along with its rippled waves. They made sure not to put too much distance between them and the village as they did with the waterfall, but even then, the sheer size of the fjord was enough to make them feel as if they had stepped into another world.

All around them, mountains extended into the sky for what seemed like miles, and appeared to kiss the base of the clouds. Their peaks were frosted with fresh snow that floated down from the heavens, and their base remained concealed beneath the ocean, forming a basin fit for the gods themselves.

Meanwhile, a thin curtain of fog draped itself over the mountains’ rugged forms and obscured the landscape waiting ahead, encompassing the world in a layer of mist that stood as a barrier between the two men and the secular village they left behind.

It was the perfect place to clear one’s thoughts, and Eivor could see that Sigurd was already beginning to unwind. The disquieted expression that once hung on his face had vanished, and at the moment, he was currently sitting peacefully on the boat, watching contently as fish poked their fins out from the water’s surface.

They were completely alone out here, and Eivor wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“So,” the younger man said, “what’ve you been doing these past few days? I haven’t had the chance to talk with you in a while.”

“Oh, nothing too exciting,” Sigurd answered, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve joined your father and Ulfar at the war table quite a few times now, and I’ve also been getting to know Randvi more. It’s difficult to juggle between the two, but things have been going according to plan so far.”

Eivor threw a puzzled look at him. “What about your father? Does he not take part in your conversations in the war room?”

The other man hesitated for a second. “Oh, h-he does, but... well, he’s been occupied lately. Sometimes I take his place.”

Eivor couldn’t deny that he found the response a bit odd, but he decided not to pry any further. “I see. And what about Ulfar? I hope he hasn’t given you any trouble.”

It was Sigurd’s turn to be confused now. “Ulfar? No, none at all. Why would he?”

The Wolf-Kissed sighed sheepishly, unsure of how to explain. He assumed Ulfar would have already expressed his concerns to the prince about his ability to be a leader, but evidently, he was wrong.

“I, well... I suppose there’s no harm in letting you know. The day you and I went to the tavern, Ulfar stayed for a drink after you left. Initially, he was in a rather foul mood, and it was directed at you. He said you almost got me killed in the forest.”

A look of guilt spread across Sigurd’s face. “...Ah, I see.”

“I spoke with him, though,” Eivor reassured. “I convinced Ulfar it wasn’t your fault, and he told me he’d withhold any further judgement for now. That’s why I asked if he had given you any trouble. I was curious to know if he still harbored these doubts. But don’t let it bother you. Whatever Ulfar does, it’s only to keep me and my siblings safe.”

Sigurd shook his head in disagreement. “No, he’s right. I should’ve been more careful that day. I made a foolish decision, and you nearly paid the price. It’s a good thing you’re a skilled warrior. Otherwise, I’d probably be responsible for your death by now.”

Eivor’s expression sank with pity. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault what happened in the woods that day. You could’ve run off at the first sign of danger, but instead, you risked your life to save me. And everyone knows it. Even Ingrida.”

“Well, I may not be at fault,” the man conceded, “but I was ill-prepared for such an ordeal. If I’m going to be king someday, I need to be able to protect people. That includes you.” Sigurd shifted his position slightly, sitting more upright. “I promise, Eivor, I won’t endanger you like that again.”

The young man grinned. “I appreciate it, but we’re in the midst of a war. I’m afraid we don’t have much choice. Anything can happen at any time.”

“True, but I’ll still do everything I can to keep you and your people safe.” Sigurd displayed a small smile. “Death may be inevitable, but that’s no reason to let it take us so willingly. That’s why we have shields.”

Eivor chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”

The two of them trailed off into silence briefly, only for the prince to bring up another topic.

“Hey, speaking of Ulfar, did you hear his report?”

“No.” Eivor said.

“Well, apparently, he and his men found two camps in the woods not too far from where we were attacked. They both belonged to Kjotve.”

“Really? How many men were there?”

Sigurd conjured a rough estimation. “About ten each.”

“Ten?” The Wolf-Kissed repeated in alarm. “That’s nearly two dozen in total. That’s enough men to carry out a small raid.”

“Indeed. We’re lucky Ulfar was able to drive them out before their numbers grew anymore. Thankfully though, he didn’t uncover any plans to attack Bjornheimr. He believes these particular men were just scouts sent here to keep an eye on the village and send information back to Kjotve. Our encounter with them wasn’t coordinated. A few of his people simply decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Eivor found some comfort in that. “Well, that’s a relief, at least. Still, I wonder how Kjotve will respond to this.”

Sigurd raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“If these men were sending regular reports to Kjotve, he’s going to realize something’s wrong when they come to a sudden stop. He might even send reinforcements.”

The older man couldn’t help but admit he had a point. “Hmm. That does sound likely. I’ll have to warn your father and Ulfar about the possibility of retaliation. We may be preparing for a wedding, but Freya knows that won’t stop Kjotve from spilling blood.”

A shiver traveled down Eivor’s spine. “What if... what if he comes to Bjornheimr? What do you think we’ll do?”

The answer seemed fairly clear to Sigurd. “We’ll fight, of course. What else?”

“No, no,” his friend corrected, “I didn’t quite mean it like that. I just...” Eivor gazed down at his father’s axe, tracing a hand down its grip, “...I’ve spent so many years thinking about how I would take my revenge on Kjotve; for what he did to my parents. I’ve convinced myself that I’d slit his throat without a second thought, but... if he actually shows up, I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

A sense of empathy softened Sigurd’s eyes. “It won’t be easy. But whatever happens, make sure you fight for what matters. Ideally, Kjotve will never set foot on your shores, but if he does, fight not for revenge. Fight for the honor your father lost. Only then can you know true peace.”

Eivor stared aimlessly at the water surrounding them, trying to block out the memories of that horrible night. “...I’ll try. Even if it kills me.”

The younger man watched the soothing rhythm of the waves dancing around them and fell into a deep train of thought, only to be pulled out again when Sigurd’s voice reached his ears.

“Hey,” he said gently, leaning closer to his companion, “are you alright, Eivor?”

The Wolf-Kissed blinked a few times, still somewhat lost in his own past. “Yes. I’m fine. It’s just... difficult to think about, you know. My parents were killed over a decade ago, and yet, their words from that night remain fresh in my head. It’s hard to ignore them sometimes.”

“Of course,” Sigurd replied. “I understand.”

“Anyway,” Eivor said, not wishing to dwell on the grim subject any longer, “you mentioned you’ve been seeing Randvi more earlier. How are things going between the two of you?”

“We still don’t know each other that well,” Sigurd confessed, “but she strikes me as a kind woman; an honorable one. I think we can make this marriage work. Although, I must admit... it’s bizarre to think about how she’ll be my wife in only a week from now. The future felt so far away when I first got here, and yet, these past seven days have fleeted by within a heartbeat. It just makes me wonder how fast the wedding will arrive.”

Eivor caught onto his tone. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes, and so is Randvi. But I think we’re both slowly coming to terms with it.” A glint of curiosity formed in the prince’s gaze. “What about you, Eivor? Have you ever considered marriage?”

The man laughed. “Me? No, not really. I’ve had partners in the past, but... nothing serious. It’s difficult to imagine someone marrying me, if I’m being honest.”

Sigurd scoffed. “Psh. Nonsense. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their spouse.”

“You think?”

The older man shrugged. “Why not? You’re compassionate, humorous, handsome, and--” Sigurd suddenly froze in shock, utterly embarrassed by his own words.

Meanwhile, Eivor simply gave him an appreciative smirk, undeniably amused by his slip-up.

“You consider me handsome, do you?” He teased.

Sigurd stammered bashfully and brought a hand to the back of his neck, barely able to hold eye contact with the Wolf-Kissed anymore. “Gods above... erm, f-forgive me, Eivor. I... I didn’t mean to--”

“--It’s alright.” He interrupted. “The truth is, I think you’re handsome too.”

The prince paused at Eivor’s remark, calming down somewhat. “You... do?”

Eivor chuckled, leaning forward in his seat. “Yes, you fool. Who wouldn’t? You’re strong, kind, caring, and you...” the young man caught himself before he could say anything else and stopped mid-sentence, abruptly retreating from his comments as Sigurd watched him quietly.

“...No,” Eivor said, his tone much more sullen now. “I can’t do this.”

Sigurd found himself growing concerned. “What’s wrong?”

The other man sighed in despondency, looking shamefully away from his friend. Eivor assured Ingrida that he wouldn’t allow his emotions to interfere with the upcoming wedding, and yet, he had barely been able to stop himself just now.

His thoughts slipped free from his lips as if they carried a mind of their own, and if it weren’t for the fact that everyone’s safety was depending on this alliance, Eivor had no idea how far he truly would’ve gotten.

His ability to restrain his desires was already being crippled just after a week of knowing Sigurd, and the looming reality of his feelings was enough to send Eivor into a state of panic and loneliness.

These next few days were going to be nothing but absolute turmoil for him, and sooner or later, he’d have to accept it. He just didn’t know how.

“Sigurd...” Eivor whispered sorrowfully, “...can I be honest with you?”

The older man nodded. “Of course. What’s going on?”

The Wolf-Kissed looked him directly in the eye, taking a deep breath. “...The truth is, ever since we met at that feast, I’ve been infatuated with you.”

Sigurd’s brow furrowed in shock. “...You have?”

“Yes. Whenever we’re apart, I’m always thinking about when I’ll see you next, or how you’re doing. I care about you, and I worry about your well-being despite being no more than an acquaintance.”

The prince knotted his hands together in thought. “And what about when you’re with me?”

Eivor showed a faint smile to him, but its facade was quickly betrayed by the pain in his gaze. “I feel at peace. I feel like nothing in the world can touch us. I feel a certain way that I’ve never felt before with anyone else, and it... it frightens me sometimes.”

The young man continued. “But I can’t allow these feelings to develop any further. No matter how persistent they may be. We’re both bound by our duties, and yours is to secure an alliance with my clan. The only thing I can provide for you is a distraction that you can’t afford.” Eivor slunk back to his end of the boat, hiding inside the shell that he constantly wore. “...I’m sorry, Sigurd. But our relationship can’t go beyond this.”

Sigurd offered nothing other than silence in return and simply delved into his own thoughts, gazing downwards in a desolate manner. It was clear that he mirrored the same affections that Eivor expressed, but he felt even more reluctant to share them now that he knew about the other man’s views.

It was the burden of being a prince, he supposed. Everyone always told Sigurd that his choices were his own, and yet, he was being forced to repress something that others would’ve been more than happy to admit. His life had been nothing more than one big preparation to rule the kingdom someday, but he felt as if he hardly had any control over his own life.

Still, Sigurd knew Eivor was right, and he knew he couldn’t afford to deviate from the path set out in front of him. The war with Kjotve was much bigger than either of them, and everyone’s safety was depending on this alliance.

“I... understand, Eivor.” He said quietly.

The younger man hung his head low, unable to ignore the guilt settling into his mind. “I’m sorry it has to be like this, Sigurd.”

“Don’t be. What you’re doing is noble. Not everyone would have your restraint.”

Eivor’s mood barely lightened at that. “It doesn’t feel noble. But I know it’s necessary.”

Sigurd nodded solemnly, unsure of what to say anymore. “...Indeed.”

Having had enough of this place, the older man took hold of the oar and stuck it into the water, eager to return to solid land.

“We should starting heading back.” He said abruptly, earning a tilt of the head from Eivor.

“Already? Are you sure? We haven’t even been out for that long.”

“I know, but I fear that my free time is rather limited today. An abundance of tasks awaits me in Bjornheimr, and I’m almost certain that my father will require my presence as well.”

Eivor peered at Sigurd with concern, clearly able to see that he had been affected by their conversation.

“Okay.” He agreed tentatively. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Come on, I’ll row you back to the village. Just sit back and relax.”

Guiding their boat away from the fjord, Sigurd steadily drove them back to the shoreline without uttering another word as Eivor sat quietly on his side, admittedly feeling somewhat remorseful for having dimmed the mood.

Initially, he had been excited to spend more time with the forlorn prince, but now, he wondered if he had made a mistake. It was no question that a special type of bond connected the two of them, and Eivor mentally scolded himself for allowing it to strengthen even further.

At this point, part of him was considering the idea of severing their relationship. It was difficult enough battling the constant temptation that he felt whenever he was with Sigurd, so Eivor thought that, perhaps, it might’ve been best if he simply eliminated the chance for it to show up again.

There would be no need to practice restraint if the prince avoided him altogether. They would be complete strangers just like before, and Eivor wouldn’t have to worry about clashing with his desires on a daily basis.

But... he knew he wouldn’t be able to do such a thing. He cared about Sigurd too much, despite only having known him for a week. That man housed something special within his heart, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to cast it aside.

Still, he didn’t know how he would proceed from here. Sigurd was aware of his admiration now, and any interactions between them would’ve bred nothing but awkwardness.

They both needed some time to get their thoughts in order, and frankly, Eivor was starting to feel grateful that the other man decided to make such a swift exit. He needed to be alone for a while, and it was evident that Sigurd also had plenty to think about himself.

It was one of those moments where Eivor felt the urge to seek out guidance, and he knew exactly who to get it from.

He just worried that they would tell him precisely what he didn’t want to hear.

~~~~~~~~~~

BJORNHEIMR, THE DOCKS

“Here we are.” Sigurd announced, letting the boat drift towards the pier as he gazed into the distance. “...And it looks like Dag is waiting for me. Just like I expected.”

Eivor stood up from his seat. “What does he want from you?”

His friend put down the oar and climbed back onto the docks, taking their supplies with him. “Nothing. It’s my father who probably wants something. Dag is merely the messenger. I just hope it’s not what I think it is.”

Walking briskly ahead of the other man, Sigurd strode down the wooden pier and made a beeline straight for Dag as Eivor hurried to his side, abandoning the boat.

A newfound irritation had worked its way into the prince’s usually serene demeanor, and the Wolf-Kissed wondered if he’d finally learn the reason behind Styrbjorn’s aforementioned absence at the war table.

“Dag,” the redhead called out in a firm tone. “What are you doing here?”

The bulky warrior removed himself from the tree he had been leaning on and approached Sigurd, appearing no more pleased than before.

“The king requests your presence at the longhouse.” He informed. “There’s a problem he needs your help with.”

Sigurd sighed in defeat, plopping the basket down in frustration. “Of course he does. Is it the same ‘problem’ as yesterday?”

Dag nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

The prince shook his head angrily. “That drink-addled fool...! He promised me this wouldn’t be an issue. What is he doing now?”

“He’s waiting for you in his chambers. Same as always. I suggest you hurry. He’s in a worse state than usual.”

Sigurd’s face stiffened with ire. “And it’s no one else’s fault but his. What is that man thinking?” He paused for a second, recomposing himself. “...Thank you for letting me know, Dag. Hopefully, we’ll never have to have this conversation again.”

The raider began strolling away from them, pessimistic about the idea. “Hopefully, but not likely.”

Removing himself from the scene, Dag disappeared once again while Eivor took his place, confused as to what just happened. It was quite obvious to him that Styrbjorn seemed to be at the core of this issue, but he hadn’t the faintest idea what the issue was exactly.

“What’s going on?” Eivor asked. “Is your father safe? Do you need any help?”

Sigurd quickly rejected the offer. “No, no. He’ll be fine. He’s just being an idiot. It’s best if I deal with this alone. Believe me.”

The younger man’s curiosity remained fervent, but he decided not to press anymore. The prince was evidently in a state of heightened exasperation at the moment, and Eivor suspected that any further questions would’ve only earned him more animosity.

“...Alright. If you say so. But don’t hesitate to ask for my aid if you need it.”

“Thank you, Eivor. I appreciate it.”

Forcing himself to relax, Sigurd rubbed his temple out of stress and turned to face Eivor, softening the jagged edge of his voice.

“Forgive me. I don’t mean to be so irate, but things are chaotic enough as it is, and my father is only making things worse. He’s ignoring all of his responsibilities, and piling them on my shoulders instead. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t affecting me.”

Something clicked in Eivor’s head. “So that’s why you’ve been so busy.”

“Yes. That, and a few other things. But those matters are irrelevant right now. The only important thing I have to say is... thank you. For taking the time to come with me today.”

“Of course, Sigurd. You need only ask.”

The older man beamed warmly. “...You truly are a blessing. You know that, Eivor? I genuinely believe you’re the only person I can fully rely on. You’re a man worthy of trust.” He placed his hands on his hips, returning to his usual temperament. “But I’ve idled for long enough. My father’s probably wondering where I am. Feel free to take all the fish we caught. You deserve it for putting up with me today.”

Eivor took the basket in hand, waving goodbye to Sigurd. “Farewell for now, my friend. Take care of yourself. And remember, I’m here if you need me.”

The prince started heading in the direction of the longhouse, returning the wave with one of his own.

“The same goes to you. I may be busy, but my door’s always open, Wolf-Kissed. I only pray that our next meeting will be under better circumstances. Until then, stay safe. We all need you.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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streets-in-paradise · 4 years

Text

Battle Scars

Troy 2004 fanfiction

Characters: Hector, sister oc ( it can also be read as a reader insert since i haven’t named her yet and there are no mayor descriptions)

Word Count: 2101

Genre: Angst Comfort - Fluff

Relationships : Platonic - Family.

Summary: Paris is determined to fight Menelaus. His siblings are concerned with the high chances of his death and his younger sister wants to take his place. Hector comforts her and warns her about some less discussed consecuences of battle. ( I suck at writing summaries.)

Triggers: Mentions of war and typical war involved violence. (not much. Don’t worry because it is not gory)

Disclaimers: This is my first attempt of writing fanfict to post. English is not my native language, i translated it to english with the help of an online translator.

Tags: @hrisity12 (tag you because i think you will want to see this)

I hope you enjoy this and thanks for reading

The night after the start of the war had already fallen. The palace was quiet, a silent atmosphere that was nothing more than the mix of grief and exhaustion surrounded the entire place. Pacing around the hallways, Hector seemed to be the only person around, unable to allow himself to have some rest. He was looking for Paris, after the scandal created by his proposition of fighting against Menelaus and the lethal risks involved for him in that reckless idea he felt the need of having a serious conversation with him.

Unfortunately, his brother was not the only one who needed his words and company that time. In his way he crossed ways first with Helen, stopping a grief induced attempt of scaping in a desperate try to stop the war. After comforting his sister in law, he was approached by his younger sister. The young lady was rageful and worried in the same amount. Without hesitation, she let go all the thoughts that were troubling her and vented to her brother.

“Paris is the worst swordsman I have ever seen. How can you allow this? He can’t do that, i will not allow it. Why can’t I fight in his place?” she snapped.

Seeing her state, Hector decided to stop his search for Paris and have a talk with her. The last time they had a few words was that morning in the armory when she begged him to let her fight and stumbled across his refusal. He thought that,after that short altercate in which no one had the time to explain themselves and with the news about Paris worrying both to the core, they needed some time alone.

“You know you can’t do that. It would hurt his honour. He can’t let his sister fight his own battles “ he tried to explain.

“Do you really think Paris cares for his honour? He is doing it out of guilt. I can’t let him die.“ she asserted

“ It is his choice” he stated.

“ What about my choice of fighting this morning? I am the little girl so it is correct to take away my will to choose? “ she replied, her tone getting progressively more enraged.” Helen is a trojan princess now, let a trojan woman defend her freedom to choose her own fate. She is not a fighter but she has a sister willing to do it for her. I will be defending her freedom, not Paris’s right to possess her.”

“ I will not let you get involved in actual combat for the first time against the King of Sparta. That man fought all his life.”

“ But it is fine to send Paris to his death? It would be his first combat as well but with half of my training as backup. He never cared for this sort of thing, the only weapon he handles with a considerable talent is the bow. He can’t show up to a single combat with bow and arrows and he is terrible with swords.”

“Don’t put me in the situation of being the one who has to choose between you two which one of my siblings will be sacrificed.”

“ Of course, because you already decided it.”

That thoughtless reply was more of what the man could handle. Abandoning his conciliatory tone, Hector allowed himself to let his own concernings go and said exactly what was going through his mind.

“Do you think i want to burn our brother’s body?? I love him as much as i love you. I can’t allow you to fight, it is not your right to die in his place.”

“ How can you be so sure i’m going to die? Is your trust in me so small and weak?”she asked, confused by the switch in her brother’s approach.

“Real life is not like training in the safe space provided by the security of our walls. Battle is screams, blood,sweat, excrements and desperation. Nothing more. Your skills are worthy of trust but you are still very young and naive. You think you will go out there and end up crowned as trojan champion after doing some heroic act. That sort of attitude can get you killed.” he explained in the most honest and realistic way he could use without upsetting her more.

“Menelaus is a slow old beast. I’m young, fast and flexible. I’m a better choice than Paris for that combat and you know it.” she insisted.

“I may be aware of it but i don’t care. “ Hector replied. The only way to go with this sort of conversation, especially considering the stubbornness of his sister on the topic, was through full honesty.

He decided he was going to give her a complete explanation of his reasons on that choice.

“Since the first time you picked a sword i told myself i would let you have your fun but i would also protect you from what would be waiting outside if you actually tried to pursue that path.”

The princess listened carefully and, imagining the route the conversation was heading, spoke her mind.

“Death? That 's all? Your greatest fear is for me to end up dead in the battlefield? I am not afraid of it. I will die with glory if it saves our brother. Stories of my sacrifice will be tell all around our country and i will live in them. “

Hector was visibly angry this time. He wasn’t able to let himself believe what he was hearing.

“That is nonsense. Stories? You are asking me to let you die with stories as consolation? The songs of the bards are party entertainment, they aren’t worth your life “

“Even with the result of my death the outcome is good. If i leave my mark in history men will notice they need to change their ways. My death will save Paris and inspire more shieldmaidens.” she explained

“Had you realized who you are sounding like? That is exactly the sort of pointless nonsense i heard from Achilles. It is not what i taught you.” he warned her

“You taught me about sacrifice for my family and my country. That is your moral code, and it is the exact thing you don’t let me practice.” she complained, hurt by feelings of injustice.

Becoming desperate witnessing how nothing seemed to make her understand, he tried to show her understandment of her point of view and spoke from his own feelings and fears.

“I don’t want to lose you! I’m not even talking about death when i say it. That is indeed a big fear of mine regarding you but it is not the only one. I will not be talking about death now.” he said, lowering his tone trying to sound more calm to show her that his anger was not related to a misunderstandment of her point. “ Real combat, a battle in the middle of a war unleashed at our gates ... It is a terrible event to witness. I would not wish that to my worst enemy. It changes you, leaves scars on you that you would have to carry your whole life. Not just the physical ones, in your inside. Your mind and your heart are not the same after you survive your first battle. I hate to fight, it consumes you. Why would i want you to go through my same suffering? I don’t forbid you to fight because you are a girl and i am some traditionalist who can’t come across to understand your will to challenge our ways. You know i am not like that, i wouldn’t had let you get involved in combat training sessions in the first place.”

The girl seemed less upset in her approach after hearing him.

“You said it was a good way to wake some sort of interest in Paris and it was part of his formal education. We were very hard to separate back then.”

“And you still are. Menelaus would find you both sticked to each other in combat if i wouldn’t interfere in your choices.” he teased . She smiled briefly while hearing him.

“ Combat has a terrible effect on people.I don’t wish such a terrible fate for you.” Hector stated, going back to his point. “As long as i live i will protect you from it. I love your sweet enthusiasm, your kindness and concern for our people. I already know you sneaked out to help in the expedition I sent to look for people in the camps. I should be mad about it but i am not because in that action you showed who you are. You are caring, you are full of hope and life. I love you as you are, Troy loves you as you are. Don’t ask me to take that away from you.”

The words of her brother had a clear effect, she was on the edge of tears.

“ But i want to help you!! I want to share the weight of the war with you.�� she yelled. “It is not fair for you to carry it all on your own and you know well Paris will not help”

“He is trying” he said, trying to comfort her

“He will kill himself!!” she shouted while tears started falling through her cheeks

“ I promise i will help him as much as i can.” he reassured her

“It is not enough, i want to help you”

“Your cheerful welcomes after every battle are more helpful to me than the strength of your arm.”

With her feelings overwhelming her, the young lady hugged her brother tightly

“I want to fight for you and for our people. I love you so much, it hurts me to see how you work so hard on your own for all of us.”

Hector caressed her cheeks to clean her tears.

“Do you want to know why it’s said that Achilles is a better warrior than me?” he asked in a trivial tone

“ Because it is said that he is the son of a sea goddess?” she answered in a slightly doubtful way.

“ That is what people who have never stepped into combat believe. What i saw in him today, he is so good because he doesn’t care about anything. It’s clear that the scars war left on him took over and at some point he stopped caring. He has no mercy, no respect. He talks of war like it’s a game. When he is fighting he stops existing as a man and becomes only the tool war requires him to be. He became desensitized to all the death surrounding him. His only concern is to win glory because, once this lifestyle takes everything from you, that’s all what’s left for you to collect. He is a broken man, an extreme example of what war makes on soldiers.” he explained

“ You are my moral guide, my example of behaviour. I would never allow myself to get lost like that because i have you.”

“ And i am not the almighty hero you see in me. I am another man changed by war. I fight hard to stay in my path, to remain as myself. I don’t want to look at you one day and see just a shade of the kind, lifeful girl you are now.” he confessed.

“ I have to assume you are protecting me from myself then?” she asked, without the connotations of assertiveness in her ways previously displayed. She felt regret for the rude ways in which her anger made her judge him

“I am, even when you don’t notice it.”

“ I don’t want our countrymen to die protecting my spirits.”

“I love you and i can’t allow it. Call me selfish if you want but even i have the right to a bit of selfishness on occasions.”

After hearing her usually selfless brother admitting he was incapable of an impartial view of the issue when she was involved she was done with the talking. There was nothing more left to say that could mean as much as that. Hector’s life was full of sacrifices, she felt unable to question him. She wasn’t going to complain about the first time she ever heard him thinking of himself to make a choice.

Instead, she thanked him for his concern and told him once more about how much she loved him. Hector kissed her forehead, wished her goodnight, and went to see their brother. He had brief thoughts about the very little time of sleep that was left for him but it didn’t matter. His siblings needed him that night and, as always, he was going to be there for them.

#troy 2004 #troy fanfiction #troy 2004 fanfiction #hector of troy #eric bana #hector fanfiction #eric bana fanfiction

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [21]

viii. spacewalker

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: major character death, allusions to past assault, language, angst.

Summary: Lexa demands that Finn answers for what he did to the people of Tondc, but you are all reluctant to give him up.

a/n: hi, whew so I struggled with whether or not to post this. after a lot of discussion with people close to me who are aware of the current situation in the fandom, I have come to the conclusion that bob is not bellamy. for this reason, I will continue to write for this story and update it. I hope you will all continue to read it, but if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, I completely understand. just know that you have my love no matter what, and I’m always here for you guys. the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Your feet thud against the metal floors of the Ark, echoing around you as you run through the halls of the abandoned spaceship. His voice dances and swirls around you, slithering down your spine and pulling a chill from deep within you. “Little la lune, we had a deal. It’s time to collect.”

You turn a corner and come face to face with a wall, a dead end. You scream out in frustration and turn to run, only to be blocked by Shumway, smiling like the predator that caught the prey. “There you are. I hope you haven’t forgotten our deal.”

“There is no deal, it’s done. I’m not letting you hurt me anymore, Shumway!”

He stalks towards you, voice low and menacing. “We’re not done until I say we are.”

He grabs your arm...

And you wake with a scream.

You sit up, panting, skin slick with sweat. You look around you, searching for Shumway, but find no one. Because you are in your tent, at Camp Jaha, alone. You shake your head and work to dislodge the dream, before standing and grabbing your shoes, pulling them on. You tuck your knife into your pants and grab your jacket, stepping out into the cool night air, shivering as it rushes over your clammy skin.

You head towards the other side of the camp in search of Bellamy, and find him on your way over, standing guard near the gate. The moon is high in the sky as he turns to greet you with a smile, but it drops when he sees you, sensing your mix of emotions. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.” When he gives you an unconvinced look, you shrug and add, “Just a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” His face drops at your harsh tone, and your voice softens. “Just...not right now.”

He nods in understanding, and you follow his gaze as it turns to look out beyond the fence. “Is she still not back yet?”

“No, but-” He cuts himself off, squinting to get a closer look at something. You peer out into the fog, straining to see anything until the flame of a torch dances in and out of view, lifted high in the sky. Two men on horseback lead a walking figure straight up to the gate, and you smile when you recognize Clarke. Bellamy yells, “Hold your fire! She's back!”

One of the guards swings the gate open, letting her in, and you run over to greet Clarke, a smile still plastered on your face. When her gaze meets yours though, she does not return it, expression somber. You’re about to ask what happened when Finn runs up and stops beside you. “You okay?”

Clarke quickly turns and yells to the guard, “Shut the gate!” She turns back to Finn and grabs him, pulling him away from the fence and you follow. “You can't be out here.”

Bellamy jogs and catches up with you, and you exchange a look, both of you noticing your twin’s strange behavior. Clarke keeps moving until she’s right outside of Alpha Station, coming to a stop near your mom, who is running to hug her in greeting. “What did she say? Is there a chance for a truce?”

Clarke is silent, and you can see a muscle in her jaw shifting. “Yes.”

Excited murmurs shift through the crowd, as everyone draws closer, eager to hear the good news. But Clarke looks anything but excited, and you can no longer take it. “Clarke, what’s wrong?”

She turns to look at you, and whispers, “Finn.”

He shifts closer to her, looking confused. “What?”

Her gaze moves from you to him, “They want you. If we want a truce, we have to give them Finn.”

“It’s punishment. For what happened at the village. Blood for blood.” Realization hits Finn as he says it, the reality that his fate affects the fate of the camp.

Bellamy shifts on his feet, shaking his head. “That’s insane.”

“If we refuse?”

She turns to your mother, voice now emotionless. ”They attack.”

Her words spark outrage in the camp as an uneasy energy grows and pushes in around you. “I say we give him up!”

“Get rid of him!”

“Give him to the Grounders.”

“I'm not dying for him. Spacewalker burned 3 months of oxygen from the Ark. We should've floated him a long time ago. Throw him out!”

People surge closer, and you and Bellamy shove a few people back, keeping them away from Finn. One person grabs Raven to pull her out of the way and she turns on him, delivering a punch to his jaw. “Back off!”

Major Byrne grabs Raven, trying to pull her back from the man as she winds up to throw another punch. Instead, Raven spins around and hits Byrne, knocking her to the ground. Two guards grab her quickly and pull her away, leading her towards the prison cells. You turn and look at Finn, who is watching the crowd with apprehension as the anger towards him only grows stronger.

He takes one last look at the crowd before slipping away, and your mom turns back to you, Clarke, and Bellamy. “We’ll increase security on the wall, at least two guards on every post of the perimeter. Finn needs to go inside and stay where we can keep an eye on him and easily protect him. I want someone watching him at all times. Understood?”

You all nod and she gives you a tight smile. “Good. Now go.”

She turns away from you, passing the message along to the others in the area, and you all head to the armory so you and Clarke can grab a gun of your own. After each arming up with a pistol, Bellamy turns to you and Clarke. “We need to find Finn.”

“I think I might know where he is.”

You follow Clarke as she leads you through the camp toward the back wall, behind a collection of buildings and tents. When you come around the corner, you find Finn sitting on the ground, leaned against a building, Murphy at his side.

Bellamy nods at him in greeting. “Hey. We're reinforcing all defenses. Doubles on the perimeter. No one's getting past that wire.”

Finn stands, “I’ll see where they're thin.”

“No. You should head inside. B corridor will be easier to defend, if it comes to that.“

He looks between the three of you, before focusing his gaze on Clarke. “I’m not gonna hide.”

“Right now, we have to think about keeping you safe.” She gives him a small smile, before taking a step back, preparing to leave. “I’m gonna talk to Lincoln.”

“Come on.” Bellamy glances at you, then back to Finn. “We’ll take you over there.”

He hesitates, eyes still locked on Clarke, and Bellamy urges, “Finn.”

He finally steps towards the two of you, following Bellamy as he takes the lead towards B corridor. Once inside, Bellamy leads Finn to a small room, full of junk, and ushers him into the room. “Just hang out here for a while. We have to go check on a few things and then we’ll be back to get you.”

“So you’re locking me up?”

Bellamy shakes his head. “No, we’re keeping others out.”

“That’s the same thing!”

You step closer to Finn, voice quiet. “Finn, we’re trying, okay? In case you didn’t notice, there are some people in camp that would give you to the Grounders without a second thought. We’re trying to keep you safe. So can you just stay here for a little while until me and Bellamy can get some more information and find out what the plans are?”

“Fine. Okay.”

You smile at him and turn to step out of the room and Bellamy follows, pulling the door closed behind him. He grabs a passing guard and motions towards the door. “He doesn’t leave until we come to get him, got it?”

The young guard nods his head, and you leave him at his post while you and Bellamy search for Clarke, eager to hear what Lincoln has to say.

Clarke’s talk with Lincoln went terribly and offered no comfort for Finn’s potential fate, so you spend most of the night and the next morning running around frantically, trying to prepare the camp and the guards for an impending attack. It’s almost noon before you and Bellamy get a second to stop and rest, and while you’re leaned up against a building and joking about something, a guard passes by you, heading towards the showers.

You double take when you see him, recognizing him as the guard Bellamy grabbed to watch Finn, and you take off running after him, leaving Bellamy behind, who calls out your name in confusion. You yell at the guard’s retreating figure, “Hey!”

He turns towards you, and when he sees you he takes off running, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. You run after him, yelling at him as you push yourself faster, trying to catch him.

He runs around a corner, leaving your view, and when you follow in his footsteps, you’re surprised to find him on the ground, looking to his left in annoyance. You follow the guard’s gaze and you’re shocked to find Murphy smirking at you. “Thought you could use a hand.”

“Thanks.” The words come out with more surprise than you intended, but if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just shrugs, and starts to back away.

“Have fun.” And then he turns and leaves you with the guard.

You pull him to his feet and push him to the wall of the building, just as Bellamy rounds the corner. “Why aren’t you guarding Finn?”

The guard gives you a look of disgust, “Why should I protect him? I say we give him over to the Grounders and let them tear him apart, piece by piece.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? He’s one of us.”

“He’s delinquent scum.” He looks in the direction Murphy just left in, and then back at you. “You all are. Along with those stupid kids in the mountain. And if it wasn’t for your loud mouth twin and weak ass Chancellor mother, we’d already be out of this place, safe from the Grounders.”

Your hands reach up to fist into his shirt, anger pulsing through your blood. “There is no safety from the Grounders. I’ve buried enough ‘delinquent scum’ to know that for a fact.”

You feel your fists clench tighter, and Bellamy whispers your name as a warning. His voice brings you back and you drop your hands, giving the guard a look of disgust. “And those kids in the mountain? They have more courage in their pinkies than you have in your entire body. They never tried to run from the Grounders, they stayed and fought.”

You turn away from him, back to Bellamy, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. “We need to find Finn.”

He nods and you both take off running, making a beeline for B corridor, heading straight for the room you left him in. You know he’s gone before you even reach the door, which is now swung open. You turn to Bellamy, running through places in your mind. “Where’s his tent?”

“This way.”

You follow him as he runs off, taking you to the opposite side of camp, straight towards an orange one that stands in the center of a few other tents. You both step inside and let out a sigh of relief when you see him, but your relief quickly fades when you see him stuffing belongings into a bag. You turn to Bellamy. “Go find Clarke.”

He runs off and leaves you with Finn, who barely looks your way. “Don’t try to stop me. I’ve made up my mind.”

“Okay.” You take in the expression on his face as he quickly packs, and you know he means it. You try to think of a distraction, anything to keep him here until Clarke shows up. Clarke. And then you rush out, “She loves you, you know.”

He freezes, looks up at you, shock on his face. “What?”

“She loves you. And I know she hasn’t told you, because it’s Clarke and she holds everything so close to her heart, but she does.”

He shakes his head. “She can’t even look at me. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t. She just needs time. The village was…” You see his expression change, regret taking over. “A lot for her. For all of us. And it might be hard for some of us to forgive you, but you’re still one of us. We all still stand by that.”

He doesn’t say anything, just sits and watches you, considering your words. A second later, the tent flap opens, and Clarke steps inside. “Finn?”

She stops beside you, eyeing him. “Bellamy told me you were here. What are you doing?”

You look between them, feeling uncomfortable, and mutter, “I’m gonna go find Bellamy.”

You turn and duck out of the tent, heading towards the center of camp, finding him standing with the other guards, protecting your mother. The Chancellor. You step up beside him and he turns to look at you. “Clarke’s with him now. If anyone can talk sense into him, it’s her.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but stops when the sound of war drums reaches the camp, followed by chanting, each line louder than the last. “Jus drein jus daun. Jus drein jus daun. Jus drein jus daun.”

You and Bellamy exchange a look as the other guards lift their weapons and stand at the ready. Clarke runs by you with Finn, taking him inside and leading him back to the corridor he previously abandoned. She returns moments later and stands beside your mother, both of them looking angry, ready. They hold hands for a brief second, sharing their strength, before your mom steps away and heads to the gate, leaving you, Clarke, and Bellamy to follow, weapons drawn.

“Where’s the boy?”

“We’re not giving him up. We’re ready to fight if that's what it comes to.”

Her answer is followed by a horn blowing from within the woods, and the riders both turn and leave, disappearing into the trees. All around you, the guards spread out, tense and ready for action. Bellamy yells, “Watch the woods! Watch for movement!”

Your eyes scan the treeline, searching for any sign of life, and a shift in the brush has your gaze freezing on a spot near the middle. You watch for a second, before you see arms lift in surrender, and you reach out and grab Bellamy’s arm. “Bellamy. I think it’s…”

You trail off, Bellamy’s gaze following your own, landing on the man. He finishes for you, “Kane.”

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

Everyone lowers their weapons as the Chancellor comes closer, greeting your mom with a smile. They start to talk, too quiet for anyone else to hear, and the longer it goes on, the more restless that Bellamy grows beside you. He raises his voice so that it’s loud enough to reach the pair. “We can’t be out in the open. We need to get somewhere safe.”

Kane smiles briefly. “It’s safe, for the moment. I managed to buy us a bit of time.”

He leads your mom inside the gate, both of them now heading for the room they use for council meetings. You, Bellamy, and Clarke all exchange a look, curious, but uninvited. After a moment, Clarke announces, “I’m going to check on Finn.”

“We’ll stake out the meeting.”

You walk towards the station together, but break apart once you step inside. You and Bellamy head to the council room and plop down outside the doors, ready to question anyone that steps outside the room. You each take turns trying to listen to the conversation for a while, but the door to the room is too thick, and it’s impossible to make out anything.

You look over at Bellamy, and then turn to lean your head back against the wall. “I used to dream about coming to the ground. Getting out of my cell, having the freedom to go where I want, do what I want.” You see him turn towards you, studying you. “I never could have imagined it’d be like this.”

He reaches over and grabs your hand, and you smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

You nod, but say nothing, opting to enjoy the silence (and his company) instead. You stay like that for a long time, sitting side by side and holding hands, until the door to the council room slides open and your mom steps into the hall. You and Bellamy jump to your feet and into her path, hands still connected, and her gaze drops down to them. This time, you refuse to feel any guilt and you keep your hand firmly in his, daring her to say something.

She looks like she’s about to, but Bellamy speaks first. “You were in there a long time.”

“There was a lot to talk about.”

You nod your head. “Well, what's going on?”

“There was a lot to talk about.”

Bellamy tenses, and his voice is angry when he shoots back, “We are not turning him over to the Grounders.”

“Step aside now.” Her expression hardens the longer you stay in her way, before Bellamy finally cracks and pulls you to the side. She gives you a sharp look. “We’re all trying to find a way out of this.”

And then she’s walking away from you, leaving you and Bellamy behind, still just as lost as before. You whisper, “They’re gonna give him up.”

Bellamy turns towards you quickly and looks at you in surprise. You meet his gaze, and he must see something in your expression, because his face changes into a look of determination. “We won’t let them.”

He starts to pull you down the hall, in search of Finn, and it doesn’t take long for you to find him near B corridor, talking to Clarke. “Finn.”

They both turn to look at you as Bellamy mutters, “You need to get out of here.”

“Where would he go?”

“The dropship.”

Bellamy starts walking away, bringing you with him, and Finn seems to agree because he instantly follows. Clarke starts to protest, “No! You know that this is the safest place for him right now.”

You meet her eyes, “It isn't if they're turning on him.”

She shakes her head, and you can see the confusion on her face. Bellamy adds, “We can protect him at the dropship until we figure this thing out. Grab your gear and meet at Raven's gate in 5.”

As you walk down the hallway, groups of people whisper as you pass. Some in curiosity, some in annoyance, but most in anger. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but their tone is clear enough. Clarke pulls Finn to a stop, forcing you and Bellamy to stop and turn to them. She looks between you. “We are surrounded by Grounders.”

“If we split up, we take the low ground, we'll make it through. We’ll meet at the dropship.”

She’s about to protest further when a voice rings out behind you. “There he is.”

You all turn in surprise, a small group of men right behind you, holding weapons. They’re led by the man that Raven punched earlier, a bruise now darkening his cheek. Behind him, you see the young guard from earlier, and you both exchange a glare. “You’re gonna get us killed.”

The man lifts a wrench, ready to swing at Finn, but Bellamy steps up and hits him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle, knocking him down. You see the guard start to edge closer, and you pull out your knife and hold it up, meeting his eyes. “Do it. Give this delinquent a reason.”

He steps back and Bellamy looks over the others in the group. “Anyone else?”

Behind you, Clarke says in a rush, “They’re right. We have to go.”

She grabs Finn and pulls him past the angry group as you and Bellamy watch on, making sure they make it past safely. And then you follow behind them, heading straight for your tents and grabbing your packs, before running to meet the others at the gate. Raven is already there waiting, and less than a minute later Clarke and Finn show up.

Raven tests the fence, and when it doesn’t spark, you all slide through it and run straight for the trees, into cover. Bellamy turns to the group. “We’ll split up from here. Take the low ground, stay within shouting distance, and keep your weapon out and ready.”

You reach back and pull the pistol from your waistband and cock it, and you see the others do the same before you all exchange one final look and break away from each other.

You keep your pace quick, afraid to stay still for long, afraid of what you might hear if you are unmoving and listening closely. You’re halfway to the dropship when you hear a twig snap behind you and you whip around, gun lifted, finger hovering over the trigger.

You nearly throw up with relief when you see him, gun raised, and you both drop your weapons as he jogs over to you. “You scared the shit out of me, Bellamy.”

“I thought you were a Grounder.”

You spin towards him, “I thought you were a Grounder.”

You keep jogging through the woods quickly, quietly, but you feel slightly less on edge now that you’re reunited with Bellamy. Before long, you reach the dropship and step inside. You’re both the first to arrive, so you sit and catch your breath while you wait for the others.

Raven is the next one to show up, gun drawn as she creeps inside. She lowers it when she sees you, but she doesn’t sit beside you to rest. Instead, she starts to pace near the door, boots thudding across the floor. It reminds you of your dream.

After an unusually long time, you stand, starting to get worried, and Raven looks between you and Bellamy. “They should be back by now. We shouldn't have split up.”

Outside the dropship you hear footsteps, and Bellamy lifts his gun to the door, prepared to shoot. The parachute is pulled aside, and Murphy steps in, lifting his hands in surrender when he sees Bellamy’s gun. “Oh. Hey, hey, hey.”

“Murphy, what are you doing here?”

He turns to look at Raven. “I believe I was invited.”

“I thought we could use an extra gun.” She pauses and then looks towards the door, tense. “Finn should've been right behind you.”

He walks past you to drop his stuff and settle onto one of the makeshift beds left behind. “Don’t worry. The spacewalker's gonna be fine.”

You all sit in tense silence, waiting, eyes trained on the door for any sign of Finn or Clarke. A few minutes after Murphy’s arrival, the parachute is pushed to the side, and Finn steps in, carrying an unconscious Clarke. You and Bellamy run over to them, and he helps him carry your twin. “What happened?”

“A Grounder hit her on the head.”

Murphy jumps up and motions towards the bed. “Put her here.”

Bellamy and Finn lower her to the bed, and you turn and yell towards Murphy and Raven, “I need a bandage. A rag. Anything.”

“Got it. Here.” Murphy pushes an old rag into your hand as Finn gets up and storms off, dropping his stuff in frustration. You press the rag to the wound at the back of her head and turn to Bellamy. “Hold her head.”

He moves to her other side and supports her head, as you lean down and ask, “Clarke, can you hear me? Clarke.”

When she doesn’t move or offer a response, you push her hair back from her face and press a kiss to her forehead. “You're gonna be fine. You just need to rest.”

Bellamy is helping you situate her on the bed, getting her comfortable, when you hear Finn storm out of the dropship. You look up as Raven follows, and Murphy stands. “I’ll stand guard outside.”

You and Bellamy stay in the dropship, silent as you watch over your twin, worrying. After a few minutes he whispers, “I’m gonna go check on the others. Are you okay here?”

You nod and smile at him. “I’m good.”

He nods once and then leaves. You stand and grab a second rag and your canteen from your pack, before kneeling beside Clarke. You wet the rag and start to hum clair de lune as you wipe the dried blood from her neck and around the cut. Once you have it cleaned up, you lift the first rag and check on the wound, relieved to find that it’s now stopped bleeding. You’re gently cleaning it the best you can, still humming, when a voice rings out in the room, startling you. “Still nothing?”

You look up and meet Finn’s eyes, shaking your head. “No. But she’s strong. She just needs some time.”

He comes and sits beside you, his gaze never leaving Clarke, and he whispers. “You really are her other half, you know.”

You turn to him and smile. “And she’s mine.”

“I always wanted a family, but it was just me and Raven. And then we got down here, and I met Clarke and I started to think that maybe someday we could have a family of our own. But then things got so messed up, and I hurt her and Raven, and I lost them both. The only family I ever had.”

“You didn’t lose them, Finn.” You glance towards the door, thinking of Bellamy and Octavia and the other delinquents. “Besides, we’re all your family. Raven, Bellamy, Octavia, Clarke, the other 47. Hell, even Murphy. And we’re gonna protect you or die trying.”

“I know, and that’s what worries me.”

You open your mouth to say something, but then a groan lifts from below you. You look down and your face splits into a grin when you lock eyes with Clarke, who groans again as she presses a hand to her head, trying to ease the pain. You turn to Finn. “I told you she’d be okay.”

And then you give your sister a quick hug before standing and allowing the former couple to talk. Bellamy turns as you step out of the dropship, motioning you towards him, and you walk over and sit beside him behind a log in front of the camp. “Clarke’s awake.”

“Good, because we have visitors.” He turns to look out beyond the camp and you peer around the log and look, catching movement in the trees. Bellamy turns to yell to Clarke and Finn, alerting them. “We’ve got company! Get out here.”

They both run out and duck behind cover, and you watch the Grounders as they run past the gate and into the trees surrounding the camp. “Everyone fall back to the dropship.”

You all follow Bellamy’s command and run back inside one at a time, covering each other’s backs in case the Grounders decide to attack. Once inside, you all start discussing what to do. “We’re surrounded, but they’re not moving any closer.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “They’re staying out of range. Probably waiting until it's dark.”

“If we hit them now, at least we'd take them by surprise.”

Clarke turns and glares at Murphy, annoyed. “We don't even know how many of them are out there.”

“We’ll give them something.” You turn towards Raven, looking at her in confusion. “All they want is Finn.”

“Finn wasn't the only one at the village.”

Every gaze turns towards Raven, wearing matching confused expressions. “What are you talking about?”

And then realization clicks as her gaze swings towards Murphy. Bellamy shakes his head, “Raven, hold on.”

Murphy looks at her, incredulous. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come. You…” He trails off as the pieces start to connect in his mind. “That’s why you asked me to come along.”

“Enough Grounders saw him at the village. They’d believe he was the shooter.”

Your jaw drops, unsure what to say as you watch Raven turn on Murphy, one of your own. Who, despite his multiple murder attempts, seemed to be trying to turn things around as of late. You whisper, “You know what they do to people.”

“They want a murderer, we'll give them one.” She lifts her gun and points it right at Murphy, face set in anger and determination. “Drop your gun.”

Murphy steps closer to her, until the end of her gun is pressed to his chest. “Go to hell, Raven.”

Clarke moves closer to the pair. “Put it down, Raven. Like it or not, he's one of us.”

“I said drop it!”

Her finger slides towards the trigger and you walk closer, concerned that she’s going to actually shoot him right in front of you. But then Finn steps up beside her and pushes her gun down, away from Murphy’s chest. “Stop! We're not doing this. They’ve got us surrounded. The only thing we can do is stay and defend this place.”

“I’m with you,” Bellamy answers, and you nod in agreement. Clarke and Raven both nod, and after a second of hesitation, Murphy does too.

Finn turns to Murphy, “Go upstairs. Watch the rear. I'll take the lower level.” He turns and looks at the rest of you. “You four, take the front gate. That’s the plan. All right?”

Everyone agrees and starts to break apart. Murphy heads straight up the ladder to the second floor and Bellamy is the first to head outside. You jog over to your pack and start digging through it, grabbing whatever extra ammo you can find. You see Raven and Finn standing in the middle of the room hugging, and you turn away, feeling like you’re intruding on a private moment. And then Raven is stepping away and Finn is whispering, “Be careful.”

She turns and heads out the front, joining Bellamy. You see Finn drop to his pack, across from Clarke, grabbing a few extra supplies. They exchange a sad look before Clarke stands and nods at him, turning towards the door. You finish grabbing what you need and stand to follow, but stop when Finn calls your name. You turn and look at him. “Yeah?”

He steps towards you, extending his hand out to you, offering you something. You reach out to meet him, and he drops something into your hand. You look and see a charm, a small cluster of stars, before looking up at him in confusion. He whispers, “Will you give this to Clarke? I was waiting for the right time, but I’m starting to feel like it’ll never be the right time.”

Your confusion doesn’t waver as you nod. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.” Your eyes meet and a strange look passes over his face before he reaches out and pulls you into a hug. You’re surprised and don’t reciprocate at first, but after a second your arms wrap around him and return the gesture. He releases you and steps back, heading over to the open hatch on the floor. “Keep her safe.”

You don’t have to ask who, and you nod. “I will.”

And then he drops down into the floor below, leaving you to look after him, utterly bewildered by his strange behavior. You tuck the charm into your pocket, and head outside, dropping down beside Bellamy on the other side of the large log. Everyone’s eyes are locked on the surrounding woods as you watch for any sign of movement, but you can’t seem to shake Finn’s weird behavior from your head.

You start to turn towards Bellamy, opening your mouth to tell him about the encounter, when Raven whisper yells, “Someone’s coming!”

You all turn towards the front gate, scanning the trees, eyes landing on the bushes near the front gate, shifting with movement. “There!”

And as you all lift your guns, ready to shoot, Finn steps out from the brush and into the clearing, hands lifted in surrender. All the pieces slide into place the second you see him: the weird goodbyes, the hug. The realization that he wasn’t taking stuff out of his pack, he was stuffing weapons into it, disarming. His rifle, forgotten, laying on the ground beside the hatch, long after he had gone.

You want to hit yourself for your stupidity, for missing the signs, but you turn your focus on your twin as she stands and looks to her former lover. “No! Finn!”

She starts to move towards him, but she has barely taken a full step before a group of Grounders jump out of the trees and bushes and grab him, dragging him away, back to their camp.

You’re all frozen in shock for a second, watching as Finn disappears from view. Bellamy is the first to recover. “We have to get back to Camp Jaha and tell your mother. Maybe she can stop this.”

The words are enough to send you all into gear. You run inside and grab your packs, yelling at Murphy to follow. And then you’re back outside and tearing through the woods, running as fast as you can back to camp.

You don’t make it back until nightfall, and when you do, your mom and Kane meet you at the gate, cutting you off as you all open your mouths to explain. “We know.”

They lead you to the perimeter of the gate without another word, where the rest of the camp appears to be gathered, watching something in the distance. And as you turn and follow their gazes, you can see that the Grounders have now made camp out in the open, at the bottom of the hill, right within view. At the center of their camp they are driving a giant post into the ground, and you all freeze in horror as you watch. Raven’s voice is full of quiet horror when she asks, “What is that?”

Clarke’s eyes never leave the post. “It’s for Finn. They want us to watch.”

You think of what Lincoln told Clarke. It starts with fire. Then they’ll take his hands, tongue, and eyes. All who grieve will get a turn with the knife. And at sunrise, if he still lives, the Commander will kill him with her sword.

Bellamy glances at Raven, then down at the post, before his eyes stop on Kane. “We’re gonna get him. We’ll get in close and we'll hit them hard.”

“Son...there's thousands of them. Even if we could kill hundreds, they'd still wipe out this camp and your friend would still die.”

You work to swallow the lump that has started to rise in your throat. Raven turns to your mother, her voice pleading, “Abby, we have to do something.”

“No, Raven.”

You see Clarke shift beside you and you turn and look at her, her gaze already locked on yours. She doesn’t say anything, just turns and steps away from the fence and you follow. You hear Bellamy and Raven doing the same, as Clarke leads you away from listening ears. She turns and hands you her gun. “Take this.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna talk to the Commander.”

You grab her arm and pull her to a stop, forcing her to turn and look at you. Bellamy steps up beside you and gives Clarke a serious look. “What else do you have to say?”

“I don't know.”

You all stare at each other, no one saying anything, when Raven moves closer to Clarke. “Give me your hand.” Clarke does as she says and Raven slips a small knife into Clarke’s sleeve, tucking it under your father’s watch. Raven’s voice shakes as she locks eyes with your sister. “If she won't let him go, kill her. Things’ll go crazy, and we'll grab you and Finn. Clarke, you have to help him. I owe him my life.”

Clarke nods but says nothing, and you grab her arm and lead her to the small gate, pulling it open so she can step outside. Before she steps through you pull her into a hug, dropping your mouth to her ear, speaking low enough that no one else can hear you. “Clarke, do not do anything stupid, do you hear me? Killing the Commander will only get you killed, and peace would die with you. And then they’d still kill Finn and we’d be back to where we started, fighting a two front war with no way to free the 47.”

You feel her nod against your neck and you pull away, giving her one last serious look before she steps out of the gate and disappears into the dark. You stand at the perimeter for a minute, praying to your father, the stars, the Universe, to keep her safe and from making any stupid decisions, before you turn and face Bellamy. He reaches out for your hand, intertwining your fingers, leading you and Raven back to the fence to watch from above.

A minute after you arrive, Clarke reaches the camp, and your mother watches on in horror. “Clarke. What is she doing?”

She tries to step away and go after her, but Kane grabs her arm and stops her. “Wait. Abby, we’ve got to let her try.”

She turns and looks at you, anger written all over her face when she whispers, “We’ll talk about this later.”

She looks away again, back to Clarke, the entire camp’s eyes now on your other half. Your shining star.

The crowd parts and allows Clarke to walk into camp, and you see her pause outside the Commander’s tent, waiting for an audience. The Commander walks out within seconds, and Clarke moves over to her, the two of them standing and talking.

Finn is led down the hill towards the post as you watch, before he is tied to the place of his execution. You see Clarke glance over at him and grow tense, and Finn’s eyes never seem to leave her as he watches her discussion with the Commander.

It’s impossible to make out what they’re saying from where you are, leaving you to try to figure out what’s happening based on those around them. The Grounders all around Clarke look pissed, and Lexa herself shows no signs of emotion, nothing to give her away. Beside Bellamy, Raven mutters, “C’mon Clarke, do it.”

You can see Clarke’s tension drop into sadness as her shoulders sag, and a second later she runs towards Finn, reaching up and pulling his face to hers, kissing him. She pulls away slightly and you can tell they’re saying something, before Clarke leans forward again and pulls him into a hug.

You all watch in quiet confusion as they embrace, and the longer they stand together, the more restless the Grounders around them grow. You think they’re about to pull her away from him when she finally steps back and turns around. Finn’s head is dropped, his body slumped, as he strains against his ropes, and you can see the dark spot on his chest that wasn’t there moments before. You look at Clarke and swear you can see a blade in her hand glinting in the moonlight, and it only takes a second for you to realize what she’s done.

The Grounders realize at the same time you do, and they start to yell, raising their swords and spears to kill her. You tense up and step towards the fence, unable to do anything to save her from where you stand. But Lexa lifts her hand, stopping them all in place, their weapons slowly lowering.

Clarke turns towards you and everyone around you starts to put the pieces together, a sense of sadness running through the camp. It hits Raven hardest of all and she lets out a gut wrenching scream, her legs giving out beneath her. Bellamy drops your hand to catch her before she hits the ground, comforting her as she sobs in anguish.

next chapter

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy x reader #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction

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baekterflyeffect · 4 years

Text

half moon ― two

You remembered the messy clothing sketches sprawled on the desk, and also remembered how proud you were when you modeled for his final assignment. The promise of you being the first one to wear his first official product was made. Years passed by and the promise was forgotten as it wasn’t meant to be kept; until you received an invitation that has B.B.H signed on it. Ironically, you found yourself confronting your past at your ex-boyfriend new collection launch event with your memories with him flashing through your mind.

☽ pairing: byun baekhyun x fem reader ☽ characters: exo members, red velver members, others. ☽ genre: angst, slice of life, adult-hood, hurt-comfort. ☽ aus: ex to something!AU, beauty youtuber Reader, fashion designer Baekhyun ☽ warnings: vague description of depression, suicidal situations, unhealthy relationship. ☽ word count: 2.4k

☽ half moon masterlist | general masterlist

― note: please take the warning seriously! i personally have a very hard time writing this because it reminded me of all those times i have been put in a situation similar like that. enjoy the short update!

― taglist: @fullsuninbloom / @in3vitably3v3 / @itsbaekhyunsbutt / @byunbeautifulb / @yeol-wish. let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

Eighteen years old her would not believe how she would be standing in her current position right now. With people of influence from across the globe crowding inside a room to attend a launch event of a brand that is successful. Her past self wouldn’t believe that she would be standing in the middle of a crowd, taking pictures to upload on her social media with champagne on her hand.

The night after the awkward encounter with Baekhyun feels so surreal for her, walking back to her friends with her cheeks flushed red and thoughts in a jumble of mess. She couldn’t blame it on the liquor, she hadn’t taken one when she talked to her ex-boyfriend. Yet, his presence was enough to make her drunk.

Great time, can’t wait to review the new products soon! Xx. She typed for her instagram story that showcases the event of the night. Before she even gets to press the post button, Seulgi is calling out to her name, ever so softly.

“It’s picture time, you want to come?” Seulgi questioned her. There is nothing new about taking pictures at the designed booth of an event, but she hesitated to agree. Baekhyun would be there, she knew as much. After all, nobody could go home from an event without taking a picture with the owner of it.

A sigh escapes her lips, she knew ten years had passed since her romance with Baekhyun died, but it would be a lie if she doesn’t feel the same spark when she encountered him earlier. Then again, a picture wouldn’t hurt.. right? So she grins at her best friend, nodding her head then to agree.

But of course, it would.

Baekhyun didn’t change at all, at least with his act of affection. He was flirty with every of his guests―male and female―, putting his arm around them, smiling at them so sweetly, and even holding one of the guest’s hands for whatever reason it was.

She shouldn’t feel like this, like her emotions are eating her up alive. There is no valid reason on why she should be jealous; knowing that Baekhyun is a man whose language of love is skinship. She tried her best to shrug it off, to not look, and it wasn’t until Seulgi nudged her shoulder that she realized she had been glaring at Baekhyun for a good two minutes.

“Coming here is a bad idea. Very, bad.” She groans, gripping on Seulgi’s arm ever so tightly. The chuckle that came out of Seulgi’s lips are comforting, it was one of her chuckles that indicates she understood.

“It will be okay. We’ll get out of here, he’ll be gone again, and you’ll forget about him.” Seulgi reassures. Oh, how she wished she could trust her best friend.

And it is frustrating how she knows she wouldn’t forget about him as when it was her turn, Baekhyun’s smile turned into something that is different. His smile was gorgeous, the smile that she remembered was reserved for her and only her when they were dating. His signature smile where only the edge of his lips curled, a lopsided smile that always made her body tremble.

Oh, how much she wished Baekhyun was still hers.

It was nonchalant, the way Baekhyun leaned in to her and wrapped his arm around her waist to take a picture. But she wouldn’t miss how tight his fingertips are on her skin, as if he wouldn’t let go. She genuinely wished he doesn’t, but when the stutter sound reaches her ears, Baekhyun pulls away right away.

What she didn’t notice was when Baekhyun slipped in something to her slightly opened purse.

The entire ride back home with Seulgi and Sehun is quite awkward on her part, only listening to the couple’s random banters without her joining. She usually helps Seulgi in bullying Sehun, but with her mind filled with Baekhyun, she couldn’t find the strength to do so.

She wasn’t always like this, she was always cheerful despite the hardship she faced, her head always held high as if nothing will ever ruin her happiness. It was only after Baekhyun left her and took those parts of her away together with him.

For some people, ten years is a long time for someone to move on. And she used to think the same way too, because who could stay in love with someone even after ten years of separation? Then again, her relationship with Baekhyun has always been more special.

Baekhyun was not her first love, neither was he her first everything. She had her fair share of ex-boyfriends before Baekhyun, even after him, but nobody ever came close to what she had with him.

Because nobody went through so many hardships with her for five years, nobody held her close the way Baekhyun did and made sure she’s safe and sound, nobody loved her permanent wounds as much as he did, and nobody loved her as much as Baekhyun did.

There was a point in her life after her separation with Baekhyun where she realized she depended herself too much on him, that she knew being apart from him was a good thing, that her love for Baekhyun had started to get unhealthy. Relapses are not uncommon in her part where she collapsed in her bathroom door begging for someone to save her, but she managed to walk past that, opening a new chapter in her life with memories and wounds forgotten.

If there was anything Baekhyun had taught her, it was how to love herself. If Baekhyun was able to love her through and through; why couldn’t she do the same?

The road for her to be able to value and love herself wasn’t easy, there are so many trials and errors. What matters is the fact that she managed to pick her life back together and be as successful as she is now.

Baekhyun coming to her life after ten years of separation only made her realize that after all these times, her feelings for Baekhyun are still deeply rooted inside of her. She may have realized that she no longer depended on her happiness to him, but she acknowledged that she wished her romance with Baekhyun never came to an end.

Her thoughts are cut short when Seulgi calls her name, questioning her how she’s feeling. Making her sigh before answering to her best friend.

“I’m not sure, honestly.” Mumbled her, her fingers unconsciously playing with the hem of her outer shirt. “I never imagined I would be able to converse with him, let alone meeting him at an event like this.”. It’s a lie, of course she knew it is inevitable to not meet him under her earlier circumstances.

“I was shocked when you came up to him like that. What did you guys even talk about in that short period of time?” Sehun asked her, taking a glance at her from his rear view mirror.

A groan escapes from her lips the same time Seulgi pinches him, leave it to Sehun to be rather insensitive in a situation like this. She stays quiet for a little, recalling her little reunion with Baekhyun earlier at the event, in the middle of the venue with curious eyes focused on them.

“He only asked how I’ve been, and automatically I asked the same,” she huffs, “which are dumb because I know very well how he had been.”

Sehun chuckled then, quietly making a U-turn to her apartment complex. “That’s good, at least he didn’t make you cry.”

Before she could answer Sehun with insulting words, her phone rings indicating there is a new notification. Taking it as a great chance to ignore Sehun to check her phone that she had been ignoring throughout the event. The first, newest notification, manages to make her squeaked rather uglily.

INSTAGRAM: [baekhyun]: mentioned you in a story.

“How the fuck he knew my Instagram account!?” She screamed to her phone, completely forgetting the presence of her two best friends. Her heart beat is going faster, she could even hear how loud her heart thumping because of that one notification.

“Has it crossed your little brain that it might be his social media admin who posted it?” Sehun questioned her mockily. She shook her head right away, defending her statement then.

“No, this is his personal Instagram account, not his official brand account. Whatever, he was probably just posting every picture he took with everyone earlier.”

Before she could even think about what Baekhyun posted, Sehun announced that they had arrived in her apartment building. Both her best friends bidding her goodbye and an unnecessary good luck for no reason at all. She did notice the soft smile adorning Seulgi’s lips though, making her wonder what’s inside her friend’s head.

She doesn’t remember much what happened the night at the event the moment she opened her eyes. There is no after taste of alcohol in her throat and she doesn’t wake up with a massive headache. It is enough of a sign that she didn’t drink alcohol the night before. With a sigh, she took her phone to check her notifications―nothing weird, just the usual new partnership emails and contracts that she needs to review later.

As she mindlessly scrolled through her notifications bar, she noticed one unopened notification from Instagram. She winches a little at the username, getting a reminder of his husky yet soft voice and gentle touches last night. Her sleepy state decided that it is time to open and see what Baekhyun had posted on his Instagram Story.

The post is nothing out of the ordinary, just a picture of them―rather awkwardly―standing next to each other with a smile on their face. What led her heart to beat faster was his caption, and the way he slipped his hand inside her shirt pocket.

Lovely to see you again. Here’s to a smooth sailing future for the both of us. Was what he wrote as a caption, for his fans, of course it wouldn’t be odd that he wrote his caption that way.. but a smooth sailing future? For the both of them? What the hell it was supposed to mean.

What’s more unsettling for her is the fact that Baekhyun didn’t post another story with his other guests, only with her, with a caption that led her heart beat faster.

She doesn’t want to think about it, because if she does, she would read too much into things and nothing great would come from it. So she shrugged it off, placing her phone down on her bed to even out her breathing.

Inhale, exhale, everything is going to be alright. After all, she’s nothing like her past self. She has a great stable job, lives in a good environment, and is crowded by only the best people. There is nothing to worry.

With a reminder of how grateful and how much she loves her job, she gets up from her bed to stretch her sore limbs. Opening the curtain in her room to greet the sun with a smile on her face. It is only ten in the morning, she notices. The day is still long and she could do her job peacefully without any deadlines rushing her.

There are plenty of things she could do, going out to get herself a cup of coffee while editing one of her videos that she had recorded the days before would be a great choice for her to not procrastinate, she deems. Nonetheless how much she adores and loves being alone inside her apartment, she of course enjoys being outside too.

She didn’t have much thought when she was done dressing herself up, going out with only a t-shirt and a pair of worn out jeans, dressing for her own comfort as she knew she would spend at least two hours sitting and looking at her laptop screen.

The smell of the familiar brew of coffee greeted her nostrils the moment she opened the door to the coffee shop she often visits. Making her lips stretch into a smile and positivity filled her body. Right away, she walks towards the line of people that are queuing to order, minding her own business by focusing on her phone to reply to any texts she received.

She barely notices her surroundings, making her jump in shock when a very familiar voice calls her name. It doesn’t take her a second to even realize who had called her, knowing how she used to listen to that voice every day in her past.

Turning her head to where the voice belonged, her eyes widened at the figure in front of her. Byun Baekhyun; fresh and blood, extremely attractive with his slightly oversized black hoodie and messy bed hair. She timidly waves her hand at him, unconsciously stepping to the side to give him space to stand next to her.

“Didn’t know I’ll see you in here.” Baekhyun softly said once he stood next to her, his eyes set on her figure. She nods her head as an answer, not knowing what else she could talk about. Of course, he was right. Out of all places, she never thought she would see her ex standing next to her in her favorite coffee shop.

“I live nearby,” she said shortly, continuing her words then for the sake of courtesy. “What about you?”

Baekhyun's eyes rounded at her answer, then his lips stretched into a smile. “I just moved to this neighborhood, actually. Too many people have discovered where I lived so, yeah.”

“I see. I hope you enjoy being around here.”

He just laughs at that, nodding his head towards her. They stood in silence then, both of them aware of the awkward atmosphere around them. When it was their turn to order, Baekhyun took the liberty to tell the cashier her order, making her stunned. He doesn’t say much as they wait for their order, she doesn’t dare to say anything too.

Only after they received their order did he break the silence, “I have to go,” was what he said as he took a glance on his silver wristwatch, then patting her head with his left hand. “I left you my number the other day, maybe you didn’t realize.. but, contact me, yeah? I would love to catch up.”

She just nod awkwardly at him, seeing his lopsided smile before he turned around to walk outside the coffee shop. The supposedly cold drink in her hand feels too warm. After all the years they separated, he still remembered her favorite coffee order―and she’s sure her heart will soon fail her with how rapidly it is beating.

“One cafe latte with two espressos shot for the lady.”

― additional note: this chapter is so tiring to write and that is why i couldn’t even bother to continue writing more even though the gdoc has around 4k in it, so i decided to finish the chapter right here. do let me know what you thought of this one!! i appreciate it a lot <3

#baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun scenario #exosnet #bbh-net #livia writes #baekhyun #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fic #exo scenarios #exo scenario #exo fic #exo fics #tumblr please dont fuck up my #tags #pleaseasrhjsdhgsggs

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sanders-sides-fic · 3 years

Text

Cousin’s support

2,868 words

triggers: implied death, cheating, cursing, being kicked out, mentioned toxic relationship, mentioned hate against polyamory (please let me know if I should add anything else)

It started with a tragedy.

Roman and Remus moved back into the cold, abandoned house about a year after it had happened. Not much had changed, but that surely didn’t help. The only reason they even still had the house was because their parents had bought the property and had the house built there, and it’d been payed off right away. Their parents hadn’t been rich, per se, but they had always had the habit of saving wherever they could so they didn’t have any debts to pay. They’d only been in debt once, and that hadn’t even been for more than three years. Roman and Remus had had… interesting parents, if you wanted to say it like that.

Anyways, the house was all theirs, and they didn’t have to pay rent. So, while both water and juice had been caught off without anyone to pay for it, the house was theirs still. The only problem was that there was a lot of renovating to be done. And both Remus and Roman were university students. In other words: Both twins were broke. Absolutely broke. That had been the reason Roman initially had the idea to rent some rooms out to friends, kind of a shared living kinda situation. Their friends had basically lived with them anyways. Patton, not liking the quiet of his often empty apartment, was thrilled at the idea. Logan has said that it was only logical, and since everyone of them would benefit he agreed.

Remus, however, said that it would only be fair on the condition that it meant he would be allowed to invite some of his friends as well. And Roman agreed, though not without hesitating. Not because he had anything against it as such, but because Remus had a habit of picking rather strange fellows as his friends. But the two that he choose were more than alright with Roman, and he suspected the older twin had taken Roman’s concerns into consideration.

Yes, Remy and Janus were alright. Remy was nice enough, tough a bit chaotic, and he wasn’t home most of the time anyways. How that man worked, slept and payed for all that coffee was beyond any of his room mates, but he was caring when it came down to it and fun to be around in general. And while Janus was a teasing, flirting, dramatic liar with enough flair to pass as a character on a broadway production and a never ending pool of sarcasm… Well, he had strict morals, though it was anyone’s guess what those were, and he made a point to almost force the others to take care of themselves. Even with - hopefully - empty threats, if needed.

And the six of them were surprisingly functioning rather well. They complimented each other, were there for each other, filled in wherever another one fell short, and made sure to pull each other out of harmful habits. Within five months after the house was renovated and they’d moved in for good none of them could imagine living without the others.

Until the 19th of December.

It was cold. Well, cold for Florida. 37 degrees weren’t exactly cold for winter anywhere else, but… Well, it was chilly with the wind blowing mercilessly and it was raining cats and dogs out there. So when someone knocked, at almost nine in the afternoon no less, they were all surprised.

They’d been sitting in the shared space and talked, throwing popcorn at each other as they debated Disney. But the knocking had sounded urgent, even though it had been just three knocks. It was Remy who stood up and went over, opening the door - and he gasped when he saw who it was. The others could see them as Remy still blocked the view, but if Remy had gasped like that it couldn’t be good. A lot of concerned glances were exchanged.

“Uh, hi… Hi, Remy.”, a voice hesitantly spoke up, almost a mumble. It was a rough voice and it sounded like they had been crying. Even less good.

“V?! What are you doing here? What… You didn’t walk here, did you?”, Remy cried out. Silence, but apparently they had answered one way or the other, because Remy gasped again. “Gurl, it’s raining. Scratch that, it’s pouring out there! You’re gonna die.”

“Gee, thanks. I hadn’t noticed.”, they said and one could basically hear the eye roll. Then there was a sigh. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do and… God, I feel so stupid, but… Can I, like, crash on the couch? If, if your room mates don’t mind? I just… You know, I just don’t know where to go.”

Remy didn’t even miss a beat before he answered: “Gurl, of cause. Come in!” And when he stepped to the side, he revealed a figure in dark clothing. His purple hair dripped from underneath the black and purple patchwork hoody he wore, his purple converse had to be drenched too and the black jeans clung to his legs. He was shivering ever so slightly and even with his head lowed slightly, you could see the way his eyeliner was running. The guy, V, gave Remy a doubtful glance but stepped in anyways.

“Wait here, I’ll go get a towel.”, Remy said to him as he closed the door. The guy nodded, not looking up. Then he turned to the other people in the room. “Would you guys mind making a coffee- no, not that. Tea? Uh, a hot chocolate? Something to warm him up.” Patton, of cause, nodded right away and jumped up.

The guy himself flinched at that, looking at Remy almost panicked. “Oh, no, that’s not… I don’t need-” But Remy was gone already and he cut himself off with a sigh. For a few moments he just stood there, shifting uncomfortably in the silence as Patton rummaged through the kitchen. Then he took a deep breath and looked over, a shaky smile playing with black lips. “Uh, hi? Sorry to just drop in on you. Uh… Janus. Remus. ‘s been a while.”

And Roman hadn’t noticed, but next to him Janus had been frozen and this seemed to snap him out of it. He’d never seen Janus jump up that fast, or reach out to someone with such a concerned look on his face, fingers hovering just above someone else as though he was afraid of them disappearing if he did. “Virgil?”, he whispered breathless. And the guy nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Virgil, what happened? Why are you here? You live on the other side of town and you… Is that blood?”

For a moment Virgil looked confused, but then a light seemed to dawn on him and he touched his left cheek, bringing his finger tips back red. “Oh. Oh! That fucker scratched me.”

“Who did? It wasn’t Jurij, was it?” That was Remy, coming back with a black towel in his hand and a few clothes of his own. Virgil hesitated, but nodded after a few seconds. For some reason, that seemed to make Janus angry. “Your boyfriend hurt you?” Virgil nodded again.

“Well… I mean, I don’t think he was thinking clearly or he wouldn’t have… God, why am I even defending him? He’s just… God! I hate him. I fucking hate him!”

Silence. It was Remus speaking up this time: “What happened?” Virgil glared at the wall for a little bit. Then he took a shuddering breath, fists clenched and tears welling up in his eyes.

“He cheated on me. Didn’t even leave the room to pick up her call. Got angry when I confronted him, said I had no right to be mad about it. So I broke up. And he… lost it. Slapped me, yelled, called me a pretentious slut, pushed me out the door and locked it. The neighbors eventually threatened to call the cops because of the noise, so I…”

“Walked here? In the dark? While it was raining?” Virgil nodded again.

“I would’ve called or taken the bus or something, but I don’t have my phone or money, so…”

“Shit. Shit, Virge, I’m so sorry. Do you want me… I can go over there and make them choke on their own blood, if you want.” Virgil cringed at Remus’ words. “Ah. I see you haven’t changed much.” Remus only flashed a grin that just looked way too proud.

“Well, you go change and dry up. Don’t worry, I got you covered. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”, Remy interrupted, patting Virgil’s shoulder. And Roman’s heart clenched when he saw the hesitant hope building in Virgil’s dark eyes. “You sure? I mean, I just panicked. I can figure out something else if you want me to, probably. I don’t… I don’t wanna be a bother.”

And Remy put both his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, looking deep inside his eyes and went: “No - Do you hear me? - fucking way.” And when Virgil didn’t look convinced yet, Remy placed his hands on his hips in what he called his “bitch, please”-pose. “How many times did you let me crash on your couch when I was drunk and lost? And even if ya didn’t, gurl, you’re family. Now, get your ass into the shower before you get a cold or, so god help me, I will smother the living hell out of you with blankets and cookies. Got it?”

Roman had never seen Remy showing his care fore someone so openly on his face. Not once. And Virgil quirked a smile and mumbled a thanks, before taking the towel and the clothes and vanishing into the bathroom. How he found it on the first try, Roman did not know. It usually took him ages to find the right door in his friends’ places, and Virgil hadn’t even asked for directions.

Janus stayed where he was, trembling in unadulterated rage, perfectly manicured hands clenched into fists tightly enough to color them white. “I’ll kill that asshole. I can’t believe him! Seriously. Pretentious slut? No right to be mad?”

“I share the sentiment, hun, but Virge wouldn’t approve, so no. Still… I knew that bitch was no good.”, Remy forced out, teeth gritted.

“Of cause not!”, Remus exclaimed in a high pitched screech, “You know what he said at the beginning. Every fucking word out of his mouth was either a lie or a red flag. I seriously don’t know why Virgy even liked him. He’s an asshole, and not the good kind either!”

Janus relaxed in what looked like defeat. “Yes, well, sometimes we accept the love we think we deserve.”

“That’s bull. Virge deserves so much more!”

“And you think I don’t know that?!” That was the first time he had ever seen Janus scream. Not raising his voice, literally screaming. “But he doesn’t. Besides, you study psychology, don’t you? So you should know very well what manipulation does to you.”

Silence.

“I think three of us are pretty confused right now. Mind telling us who this is?”, Patton asked from next to Roman, a mug of steaming hot chocolate with cream and sprinkles on top. He’d used his own, the glittery and colorful ones, and the food coloring had started to sip into the cream. It was a sign of how much Patton cared, even though he obviously didn’t know Virgil any better than Roman himself, and he wondered briefly if he’d heard what Virgil had said about his now-ex earlier. But mainly Roman wondered when the hell his friend had come back into the room.

“Yes, naturally.”, Janus said, because of cause it was Janus who managed to calm down enough to at least put on a calm facade first. “This just now was Remy’s cousin, Virgil Black. He used to go to school with Remus and I, and that’s how we became friends with Remy in the first place, frankly. Virgil is also the one Remy talks about when he says he won’t come home for the night because he’s staying at his cousin’s.”

“Virgy used to be closer to us back in high school.”, Remus took over, and such a soft voice was all wrong coming from Remus. “But his ex was a dick, and when we found out that he was a dick he decided to push Virgil away from us. Made us look like the bad guys and guilt tripped him and all that. It usually wasn’t that bad until we found out that…” At this point he shared a look with Remy, who nodded once. So Remus continued: “Well, Virgy is ace and polyamorous. And he hadn’t been out to anyone but his friend for a while, but suddenly the entire school knew. That was on him.”

“And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he called him a whore. Said being polyamorous meant he was easy, which is just… just, no. So we had a little intervention, and… Well, the bitch couldn’t cut me off because I’m his family and he wouldn’t ever leave his family behind, but-”

“-but he got Virgil to stop talking to us. Or any of his friends, as far as I heard.”, Janus sighed. Remy shot him a glare for the interruption, but nodded in confirmation.

“So, let me sum this up.”, Logan asked, eyes squinted and mouth pressed to a hard line. “Virgil is Remy’s cousin, who just get kicked out by his ex-boyfriend, who has double standards and considers it fair to cheat on him, after ending a toxic relationship. Said ex-boyfriend manipulated and isolated him, thus leaving you two unable to help. He has no where to stay and decided to turn to Remy, which lead him to walk to the other side of the city, at…” Logan glanced at the clock “nine p.m., in the rain. He is most probably emotionally scarred from this toxic relationship, and might feel insecure about his romantic orientation. Did I miss anything?”

Three people shook their heads. Roman took the chance to glance at his room mates. Remus looked angry, Remy looked defeated, Janus looked absolutely heart-broken (which was just such a wrong expression on his face), Patton had pressed one hand on his mouth in horror as silent tears feel down his face, and Logan, well, Logan looked absolutely furious.

He himself felt all of those feelings as well.

“I usually showed up unannounced. Otherwise Jurij would schedule something there so I couldn’t come. And whenever I brought up that Virgil might want to leave him… Virgil would never talk about it, but whatever he said made him ignore all my calls and stuff for a week at least.”, Remy sighed, plopping back onto the couch and running his hand through his hair. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“I agree. Although the end seems to have come in a suboptimal form, from the sounds of it that may prevent him from coming to future harm.”, Logan agreed, his voice still angry but also achingly soft.

It was quiet for a little bit, the shower running the only noise in the entire house. Then Remus looked at Roman, and - dear Shakespeare - he couldn’t stand his twin’s usually bright and mischievous eyes being filled with such a pleading look. “I know we said both of us were allowed to invite two friends each, but…”

Roman knew what he was asking. And even if the way Remus looked at him hadn’t been enough to convey the urgency of this request, Roman wouldn’t have dreamed of saying no. He’d want to help Virgil no matter what. So he gave his brother a soft smile. “We never figured out what to do with the room on the end of the hallway, anyways.”

Remus’ face lit up instantly and Janus and Remy looked just as excited. Patton nodded with so much urgency that it made all of them chuckle lightly. Logan rightened his already perfectly positioned glasses and hummed in agreement. “It does seem to be a good decision. If he’s related to Remy and friends with both Janus and Remus I don’t see a reason to mistrust him. And splitting the power and water bill with one more won’t do any harm either. So, as long as Virgil himself agrees…”

Remy laughed at that. “Oh, don’t worry. He won’t, but I’ll get him to understand it’s not a bother sooner or later.”

And Remy was right.

So, while it had started with a tragedy that had left both Roman and Remus with an empty place in their hearts, Roman was happy with what had come from it. Six room mates he adored and, as he watched Janus straightening out nonexistent wrinkles in his shirt for the tenth time at least, next to Logan nervously scanning through a novel, and as he saw Virgil coming down the stairs, giving the two of them a smile… Well, Roman was happy for them. Even though the rest of the house had had to suffer through some serious obliviousness and flirting disguised as arguments. It had been worth it in the end, though.

Seeing three of his best friends going on their first date was worth all of it.

General tag-list: @gattonero17

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #mentioned anxeitmus #only in the end tho #human sanders sides #sander sides au #human au #tw implied death #tw manipulation #tw cheating #tw being kicked out #tw toxic relationship

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emwriterblr · 4 years

Text

welcome to my world

part three

gif is mine, please don’t repost

word count: 5.8k pairing: javier pena x ofc warning(s): character death (talked about, not seen), alcohol consumption notes: this chapter is the start of the angst train

masterlist here

....

“You want me to bring you something to drink?”

Elena stretched her arms above her, head tilting to the side to look at Natalia. The young woman was standing near the bedroom doorway. The street lights illuminated the room in a warm glow, enough to allow Elena a clear view of the young woman. Her hair was a complete mess and her entire body covered in a sheen of sweat. She shook her head, “I have some beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Natalia disappeared from the room.

Elena carded a hand through her damp hair, inhaling a deep breath, trying to calm her heart. It was too fucking hot. Her skin was sticky with sweat causing the bed sheets to cling to her body. She rolled over onto her stomach and reached for the cigarettes on the night table. She placed one in her mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply, smoke billowing out from her nose and mouth. She switched on the lamp on the table, searched her bedroom floor for her underwear in the mess of clothes discarded around the room. She found it, somehow it had made its place under her bed. Elena rolled onto her back and slid on her underwear, then returned to lay on her stomach.

Natalia returned to the bedroom with two beers in hand. She offered one to Elena with a smile before lying down beside her. “You’re running low on beer,” Natalia commented quietly before taking a drink from the bottle. “I know you said you didn’t want one but I thought you could use something to cool you down.”

“Mhm,” Elena took in a quick drag from the cigarette. She picked up the bottle and downed almost half of the alcohol. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she actually was. Not to mention her throat felt parched.

Natalia chuckled as she settled down next to her, “It was a good session tonight.”

Elena could hear the smirk in her tone. She spared a look in her direction, Natalia’s lips were barely curled at the sides. But it was all in her eyes. That glint Elena saw after every single one of their sessions. Yeah, it was a damn good session. She motioned at the cigarette in her hand but Natalia only shook her head, declining the offer.

“You were a little different tonight, a little more attentive than usual,” Natalia quietly commented, watching the woman next to her. “The Embassy running you into the ground?”

Elena finished the remainder of her beer and set down the empty bottle. “Nothing I can’t handle.” She rested her forehead against her hand, feeling the sudden onslaught of the ever-persistent migraine she’s been battling for the last few days. It had been about six months since Steve first arrived in Bogotá. And in those months, a lot of shit has already gone down. Longer hours at the office. More trips out to Medellin, following more leads that ultimately led to nowhere or didn’t pan out the way they wanted. Long story short, Elena was exhausted. She knew Steve and Javier were strung out too.

But Natalia was able to read through the lines. “You’re spreading yourself too thin, Elena.”

She only hummed in response. “It’s what I signed up for.”

A hand found its way to her back, gently brushing up and down her spine. Natalia inched closer, placing a kiss to Elena’s shoulder. She continued her treatment, the gentle brushes turned into her massaging into Elena’s muscles. The approving moans from the agent were enough of a sign for her to continue, using her knuckles to kneed deeper into the tense muscles. Poor thing was stressed out. “I may have something that could help you.”

Elena laughed, “You want another session?” Glancing over, she saw Natalia smiling but the young woman shook her head.

“I heard from one of the other girls that the brothel got visited by a few of Escobar’s men.”

That got Elena’s attention. “Who?”

“Popeye and Poison.”

Two sicarios going to the same brothel. Not that it surprised her. “How sure are you? Did you see them?”

Natalia shook her head.

Elena turned onto her side, forcing Natalia to draw her hand back. “How long ago was this?”

“Just a few days ago.” She responded before taking a drink.

Elena rubbed at her chin, going quiet to mull over the scant information. She hesitated, then asked. “Is there any way you can find out if they’ll be back?”

Natalia nodded.“What time is it?”

Elena pulled her watch from the nightstand and read the time, “Past midnight.”

Natalia finished her beer, then stood up from the bed. She walked around the room for a few minutes, gathering up her clothes and began putting on the layers. “I’ll talk to the others, I know one of them has to have them as clients.”

Elena reached for her wallet, fishing out the appropriate charge for the night. “As soon as you get any info, you tell me, okay? The last thing I want is for anyone to catch wind of this.”

“I won’t say anything, but I can guarantee it won’t be hard for them to figure out.”

Elena tossed her wallet back onto her nightstand, folding the bills in half. “As long as they understand and don’t’ say anything.” She moved to sit on her knees, worrying her lip as she continued to watch Natalia. “You want a visa? I’m sure if I talk to the Ambassador, she can sign off one for you.”

The only answer she got was a breathy laugh.

“If they find out you’ve been giving us info, they’ll find you and kill you.”

“I know perfectly well what they’re capable of, I’ve been living here my whole life.” She took a moment to put on her shoes, then straightened her back, her eyes focusing on Elena. “Keep it as a card on the table, let’s see what I’m able to find out.”

That wasn’t the answer she was hoping to hear. But forced herself to go along with it. “Be careful then. Remember, you come straight to me when you have something.”

Grabbing her purse from the ground, Natalia slung the strap around her shoulder but smiled as she approached Elena. “Always the worried one, aren’t you?” She took Elena’s face into her hands and pressed her lips against hers, the kiss soft and slow. Less intense than what had occurred not too long ago. As she pulled away, Elena held up her charge for the night. Natalia eyed the payment, prompting Elena to raise her brows, urging her to take it. Finally, she took the payment and nodded. “I’ll see you soon, Elena.”

Elena brought the cigarette to her lips, and when she heard the door close, her entire body deflated. Shit. Another informant under her wing. It wasn’t the first time she’s had an informant. Yet, somehow, she felt as if she was way in over her head with this one.

….

Work the next day started off with Elena, Javier, and Steve being dragged into a briefing with Colonel Wysession and David Howard. The Colonel wanted to go over new surveillance with the team, and Elena had to swallow down her annoyance of having to be in the same room as David. Lucky for her, the briefing was a rather short one. She had expected both the Colonel and David to leave. Unfortunately, David decided to stick around and discuss the intel further with the three of them. She rolled her eyes at Javier, choosing to stay quiet for most of the duration that David spoke. Thankfully, Steve and Javier handled most of it.

After a long while, Elena finally spoke up. “I may have a potential lead on a few of Escobar’s sicarios.”

Steve and Javier straightened in their chairs. “Who is it?” Javier leaned forward, grabbing a cigarette, his eyes on her intently.

“An informant of mine works at a brothel. She told me that there was word going around that Velásquez and Ramos visited in the last week.”

David gave a sharp chuckle, “Was this informant visiting you for your nightly fucks?”

Javier and Steve eyed the man across from them, glaring him down, waiting for another insult to leave his mouth. Elena felt her stomach churn but she allowed a smirk to appear. “Yeah, and it’s definitely a lot more than what you’re getting on a daily basis.”

The amused look on David’s face fell real quick. Steve coughed, trying to hide the laugh that got caught in his throat.

Elena turned her focus back onto her partners, “She never saw them but said she would talk to the girls. See who they’re clients of, we know this his men love hanging around brothels, they should be back soon.”

“So much for a fucking tip,” David commented under his breath.

It was a hell of a lot better than the fucking surveillance he brought in with the Colonel. “You know, if you have nothing productive to add, why don’t you just leave? Not like any of this,” She motioned at the intel in front of them, “Is going to do us any good.”

“How about some common courtesy for your co-worker?”

Elena belted out a laugh, she leaned forward in her seat, eyes dead set on him. “Rich coming from you, asshole.”

David tsked at her, shaking his head in disappointment. “Damn, didn’t we talk about you learning to control yourself.”

“That’s enough, David.” Steve stepped in, completely on guard with defending his partner. He was just waiting for something like this to happen in the workplace. Guess David has gotten comfortable enough around him to start opening his mouth.

She had the mind to punch him in the face. In fact, she almost did. But they were interrupted by an agent saying that Elena was needed for a call. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The sound of her chair scratching against the linoleum floor acted as almost a warning. That this wasn’t over and dared him to say anything else.

David barely peered over his shoulder, waiting until she finally left the room. He slowly shook his head, going back to looking over the surveillance. “God, that fucking woman I swear.” He didn’t even notice that glares being thrown his way by the two men opposite him. “I don’t know how you two fucking put up with her.”

“I don’t see the problem.” Steve’s nonchalant answer was enough to get David to glance up at the two of them. Javier was eyeing him from across the table, casually smoking away, but the glare was hard to miss. Steve’s was more subtle, appearing uninterested but really waiting for David to let out another shitty remark.

“Come on, you guys can’t be serious?”

Javier flicked ash into the tray, clearing his throat in the process. “If you want to get along with her, you might want to start showing some fucking respect.”

“Which means keeping those shitty remarks to yourself, got it?” Steve raised his eyebrows at the man, digging out a cigarette from his pocket. “You wouldn’t think about talking like that with the Ambassador.”

“Oh come on, that’s completely different.”

“How so?” Steve lifted his head up, eyes narrowing at the man before him.

“Because she’s the Ambassador.” David clarified.

Steve tilted his head to the side, not finding the logic in his answer. “So, if Noonan wasn’t the Ambassador, you would say that kind of shit to her.” Steve leaned back in his chair, cigarette hanging between his lips. “What kind of fucked up logic is that?”

“Come on, Caro is just--”

“She’s your goddamn colleague,” Javier’s interruption was sudden and harsh. It caught David by surprise but Steve didn’t so much as bat an eye. “And she’s our partner.” Javier’s voice was low and stern, expression unchanged and eyes focused on him. “You better start getting your act together.”

That actually made David hesitate. David and Elena were at each other’s throats the minute she transferred to Bogotá. And it would always be David who started it. A remark on his end would set off a chain reaction. It was a stern talk from the Ambassador that diffused the tension a little bit. The situation wasn’t exactly ideal, however, it was tolerable. That was mostly due to Elena being the one who often kept her mouth, choosing to ignore him and walk away. Of course, the woman was the one forced to turn the other way. But if she was ever afforded the moment, she would absolutely punch him in the face, at least once.

David regarded the two men for a moment longer, just itching to get the last word in. But he did what was good for him. He shut his mouth and returned to his work. Steve and Javier followed in suit, the three of them getting back on track with the surveillance. It wasn’t long after their little debacle is when Elena return. The only person who noticed was Javier. Steve and David were too engrossed in their own discussion to notice. But something caught Javier’s eye. Elena closed the door behind her, leaned her back against it and pressed her hands to her face. He could feel his body tense at the sight. Of course, it could be that she was just tired or still trying to calm herself from David’s behavior. But something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.

He thought that he saw her shoulders shaking. Almost as if she was crying.

As Elena gathered herself and headed for the conference room they were sitting in, Javier was quick to diverge his gaze, not wanting her to catch him staring. Elena said nothing to the group, despite David making a comment on her return. She mindlessly gathered up her notes and paperwork, placing them back into the appropriate folder.

“What’s going on?” Steve was the first to question, having just caught onto the odd behavior. She didn’t say anything. Not sure if she was intentionally ignoring him or didn’t hear him. Steve leaned forward and tried again, “Elena.”

Again no answer. Javier straightened his back, something was definitely wrong. He stood from his chair and reached out, his hand barely touching her shoulder. “Elena.”

She jumped, caught off guard by the touch. Javier quickly drew his hand back and she breathed out a sigh. “Sorry, yeah, what?” The words fell from her mouth messy and fast.

That threw her partners for a spin. “What’s going on? You need to go somewhere?”

She stared at Javier with wide eyes. He noticed they looked misty as if she was on the verge of crying. Steve noticed this too. He stood up from his seat, the concern etched into both of their faces was enough to almost make her lose it. “Yeah, I um,” she shook her head, pulling her gaze away from them. “I uh, just got a call and I need to go take care of something. Sorry, I couldn’t stay for this whole thing but you can brief me on it later.”

“Do you need us to go with you? Is it about the tip?” Steve asked, looking like he was itching to leave the building for the day.

“No, no, no,” Elena clutched the folder to her chest and threw them both an apologetic smile. “I can’t explain right now. I have to go, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” She left without breathing another word. Not even a spiteful comment towards David who looked like he witnessed the most horrendous thing.

That’s when they all knew that something was terribly wrong.

….

Later that night, Javier found himself standing outside of her apartment door. Work seemed to have screeched to a halt after Elena left. The Colonel returned to update their previous briefing. He didn’t question Elena's whereabouts, signaling to Javier and Steve that he knew what had happened. However, the Colonel didn’t breathe a single detail to them. Understandable. But it did make them curious. It had to have been a personal matter if they weren’t being told anything about it.

That’s why he hesitated standing outside of her door. If it was something personal, the last thing he wanted to do was pry into the situation. He rubbed at his chin, mentally debating on whether to knock or head back to his apartment. He just wanted to check on her, make sure that everything was okay. That she was okay. Otherwise, he wouldn’t get any sleep. Javier raised his hand and knocked three times. It was a moment before he heard the lock being fumbled with. The door opened enough for him to see Elena’s face peering out at him. And even with the crappy lighting from the hallway, he could see how red and swollen her eyes were. Had she been crying?

“Hey, Javi.”

His jaw clenched after hearing the way her voice wavered. “Hey,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry for bothering you, I just wanted to check and see you were doing.”

She barely nodded, her gaze fell from him, looking like she was contemplating something. Then, she opened the door and motioned for him to come in. “I’d offer you a beer but I just finished off what I had left,” Elena said over her shoulder.

Javier closed the door and followed her into the sitting room. He saw what she meant. Multiple empty bottles were strewn about the coffee table. The ashtray was half full which wasn’t an uncommon sight. However, given the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the scene did concern him. “It’s fine.” He waved off her statement, his eyes scanning over the room before they finally settled on her. She was leaning against the arm of her couch, a dazed look had crossed over her face. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, forcing a smile that was not convincing at all. The way his eyes narrowed made her realize that he wasn’t being fooled. “I just… I’m tired and stressed out. I’m nervous about this whole lead that we’re waiting for, it’s just,” she began to grow nervous under his stare. There was nothing malicious on his end. She knew he was just worried but she didn’t know how to explain it all. “It’s just a lot.”

He nodded, ”What was the phone call about?” The way she stared at him, glassy eyes and lip trembling, it was enough for an ache to form in his chest. He regretted even asking her. “I’m sorry, I just… I know something is wrong.”

God, she really wasn’t in the mood to divulge the details. She was so exhausted, her body ached all over. She just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for the next fifty years. Not have to face the world. Not have to go into work and deal with the absurd stress it brings down on her. But that was a naive way of thinking. She was a grown woman after all. She’s been hunting down dangerous men for years. She was one of the best DEA agents working on finding the most wanted man in the world, and she got to this point by working her ass off. By not taking to heart the verbal abuse she’s endured from her so-called colleagues. People who told her she would never make it, that she wouldn’t amount to anything without getting down on her knees for the right person. She made it based on her determination and tenacity. All of her career accomplishments were hers for the taking, never spoon-fed to her, despite claims that stated otherwise.

Now, here she was. Feeling like a scared child, not wanting to communicate with her partner with what was happening. Truthfully, she didn’t have to tell Javier a thing. But this was going to affect her work performance if she didn’t. Not to mention it was only a matter of time before someone at the embassy let it out. She knew about the mindset of the workers and how they liked to talk. But this was Javier. Not the collective of embassy workers. He was her partner. He’s seen her in vulnerable states, talked her down when she was pissed or upset. He was next to her after the mess with Cristina, to give reassuring words or to lend an ear if she needed to talk. That surprised her the most. The first few months of working with him, she never imagined him to be the kind to just listen. But he proved her wrong. He was an amazing listener, only offered words of advice when he saw it fit or if she asked him. A massive weight would always lift off her shoulders after venting to him.

Instead of keeping it all in, she decided to tell him now. No point to it being a secret any longer. “My Dad is dead.” Saying the words felt like a punch in her gut. An aching numbness streamed throughout her nerves, her legs almost giving out. It didn’t sound right.

Of all things it could’ve been, it had to be this. Now it all made sense. “I’m sorry, Elena.” He had to force the words out, they felt inadequate to the situation. As if there was more he could say to her.

She laughed, sadly, shaking her head, trying her best to lessen this weird tension that had filled the room. “It’s okay,” she said, attempting to assure him that it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal. Her father was dead. “My brother was in town and he went to go check on him.” She paused, remembering the conversation she had with her brother Julian once she called him upon returning to her apartment. He was distraught, barely able to formulate full sentences. And that scared her more than anything. Being the big brother, he always acted tough as if nothing could ever hurt him. The first time she ever saw him cry was when their mother died.

She wished she could be there with him.

“But he went to check up on him and that’s when he found our father.” The image of her brother finding their father dead in their home was a grueling thought. The same house they grew up in. The same house their mother became obsessed with decorating for every season. The same house their father would play his guitar after dinner to help relax family. That was her favorite memory. When she was much younger, Elena would sit in his lap, her small fingers following along with his and trying to strum the same tune.

“I’ll teach you how to play, Lena.” He promised her one night and he kept that promise. She never got as good as him. But Gabriel thought she was good enough to warrant him buying her a guitar. One of her most prized possessions, which was now sitting in a storage unit back in Virginia. God, she wished that she had brought it with her.

“Turns out it was a heart attack.” She said. Her father suffered from a fucking heart attack and he was alone. With no one with him. That was the worst part.

Javier was at a loss for words. There was nothing he could say to mend this, nothing would take away her pain or bring her father back. He wanted to do something, anything. But, what? “How long are they giving you for leave?”

The question caught her completely off guard. She looked up at him, head barely shaking. “What do you mean?”

“I mean for the funeral, how long are you going to be gone? When is it?”

“Um, my aunt is handling the arrangements. And it doesn’t matter when it is because I’m not going.”

“What?” The word fell from his lips fast, not giving him time to stop it. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, “I’m not going.” When there was no answer, Elena moved to the coffee table and picked up a half-full beer bottle. She saw the shock worn on Javier’s face then took a drink from the bottle. “I can’t go, not with everything that’s going here. I’m still waiting for my informant to come back with the possible lead. I can’t go anywhere.”

“Elena,” Javier took a few careful steps towards her. “You can afford to be with your family for a week. Steve and I can hold down the fort until you back.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere.”

This was none of his business. There was no room for his opinion on the matter. But this wasn’t about some fucked up situation at work. She just lost her father. There was a lot to process. His own relationship with his father was… complicated. He knew how much his father worried about him coming down to Colombia, even tried to talk his son out of it. He left on shaky terms with his father. Still, Javier couldn’t imagine being in her position. Especially with them being in the middle of this godforsaken drug war. This has got to be screwing with her head big time.

He braced himself for any reaction on her end. “Elena--”

“No, Javi! I’m not going!” The sudden outburst even made him flinch. She saw it and she felt guilty about it. But that guilt got buried real quick. “I-I can’t go.” Tears filled her eyes, clouding her vision. Her chest began to tighten and the dizziness began to set in. Fuck. She couldn’t do it. To be surrounded by her family members, all of them carrying the same grief. To see everyone with tears streaming down their faces. Mourning over the man she loved more than anything. To have to say her final goodbye to him despite having not seen him in almost ten years. The finality of it all was daunting. No, she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t ready for it.

Elena stumbled back, her legs bumping into the coffee table. She felt sick, the entire room began to spin. She could hear all of their voices--her family. Their disappointment in her for not showing up. How much they will probably hate her for it. The thoughts swirled around in her head, muffled and heavy. She just wanted it all to stop.

Hands found their way to her shoulders, balancing her until she was standing still. She looked down and noticed that the beer bottle was no longer in her hand. Glancing up, the first thing she saw was Javier’s concerned eyes. “Hey, it’s okay.” He spoke, his voice low and gentle. Soothing and reassuring. One hand moved up to rest against her cheek, a move he didn’t think too much about. “Here, sit down.” He carefully helped her onto the couch, taking his own seat on the coffee table. “Just take some deep breaths.”

She did just that. She leaned her head against the backrest cushion, the room still spinning, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just calm down. The words repeated themselves like a mantra, slow and steady. The last thing she needed was to have a complete breakdown in front of Javier. She didn’t want to appear as if she couldn’t control herself.

Javier watched her intently, silently. Not breathing a word, allowing her the time to calm herself. He was never really good at this kind of thing. The whole comforting aspect when someone was at a low. The most he felt he could ever do was just listen which, in most cases, is all the individual would need. He has never witnessed a moment like this with her. Not even with what happened to Cristina. Elena was adamant about keeping it to herself. The most Javier ever crossed that line was bringing over a case of beer and she talked briefly never sharing too much with him. Made sense to him. They had only known each other for a few months. But it was the perfect incubator for their trust in one another to grow. It was a subtle growth. One where each came to realize it at their own pace.

“Do you need anything?” He cringed at his own question. What in the hell could he possibly get to make this all better? This is why he wasn’t good at this.

Did she need anything? The only thing she wanted was to wake up and realize that this was all a nightmare. Anything to assure her that this wasn’t actually happening. She barely opened her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief that the room was no longer spinning. Her heart gradually slowed but the ache was still there. “Am I a shitty person?”

The question came out of nowhere, throwing him off guard. “What?”

“You can be honest with me, Pena.” She swallowed. “Am I a shitty person for not going to my father’s funeral?”

He blinked, slowly shaking his head. “No, Elena, it doesn’t make you a shitty person.”

She hummed, pressing her lips into a thin line. She slowly rose her head, her eyes downcast, unable to meet his. “Then, I’m a shitty daughter.”

“Elena--”

“No, I am--I’m a shitty daughter.”

This was not his forte. But he was here so might as well make the effort to help. Javier moved over to sit next to her on the couch, eyeing her timidly and hoping that he wasn’t overstepping. “You think you’re a shitty daughter for not wanting to go?”

“No, it’s--” she breathed out a tired sigh. “It’s more than that.”

“What is it?”

“My mom was everything to us, she held everyone together. And when she died it was like we all got lost without her.” She was the family’s anchor, the one who always made sure everyone was okay. The best person to talk to about anything. “I was training at Quantico, my brother was working so we all just sort of went our own ways. But my brother, he stayed close to home so he was able to see my dad more than me. I stopped going to visit because it was too much. Having to watch him grieve for my mom.” She scoffed at her own selfishness, hating herself for how she handled it all. “I threw myself into work, by focusing on that then I didn’t have to think about my mom.”

Javier stared at the mess on her coffee table but nodded his head. “When was the last time you visited him?”

“Christmas about seven years ago.” She smiled. “All of the family were there at my parent’s house. It was nice. Then, work got crazy and… I don’t know. I just stopped going. He would always call and ask me to visit, I told him that I would try but I never did.” Hearing herself explain it made her feel even more like shit. What kind of daughter does that to her own father? Especially after they just lost her mother. She wasn’t the only one in pain, yet all she could think about was herself. “God, I’m such a shitty daughter.”

“It doesn’t make you a shitty daughter.” His answer prompted Elena to look over at him. It took a moment before his eyes were on her. “I’m probably not the best person to say so in the matter. But I don’t think it does.” She rested her head against the backrest again, not breaking her gaze from him. She almost looked relieved to hear it. Javier exhaled a shaky breath, unable to look away. “If you don’t want to go, no one can force you. I just don’t want you to possibly regret it down the road.”

A sad smile appeared. “The regret of not going doesn’t really bother me all that much.” She paused, the ache in her chest grew into her throat, a sob threatening to escape. “Not seeing him the last seven years and knowing there’s no way for me to make up for it. That regret is what hurts the most.” She then shrugged, moving her gaze to focus on the mantle across the room. “I deserve it.”

Javier’s brows pinched together, shocked by her statement. “No, you don’t.” When she glanced back over at him, his eyes were still on her. She briefly thought if at any point he had broken that contact. “You don’t deserve any of this, Ana.”

She just hoped that her father didn’t die thinking that she hated him, because that was far from the truth. She loved him so much.

The ache in her throat dissipated only slightly. She felt a little better hearing it from him. She didn’t understand why. Perhaps, it was how calm his voice was, how soft his eyes were. It made her feel safe. Protected. Most importantly, she didn’t feel judged. “Thank you, Javi. I know this isn’t really your thing.”

He finally broke his gaze and smiled, seeing it made her heart flutter. “You make it easy for me to do this sort of thing.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? As far as she knew, he’s never expressed that sentiment with anyone else. Was she the first then? She glanced over at the clock on the wall and exhaled a long sigh. “You can go if you want, Javi.”

Javier checked his own watch, yeah it was late. But a part of him didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave her. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

Elena smiled but it soon disappeared. “No,” her voice sounded small and scared. Not knowing how she was going to face this tomorrow or the next day. “But I have to be, we have work to do.” She reached over and took hold of his wrist. “Thank you for coming to check on me, I do appreciate it.”

He nodded, blinking at the feeling of disappointment when she removed her hand again. Just like that night when Steve first arrived. Their trip to Medellin that ended with them drinking beer at a side convenient stand. He remembered how warm and comforting her touch was that night. And how his arm felt cold when her presence was no longer there, just like how it felt now. “Try and get some sleep, Ana.”

Elena pointed at the empty bottles, “Don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” The next thing she needed to do was prepare for work the next day. Prepare herself to tell Steve what had happened. God, she wasn’t ready for that.

Javier pushed himself to his feet, slowly made his way towards the front door pausing at the sitting room threshold to look back. “Goodnight, Ana.”

She smiled, looking more tired than anything. For a split moment, she looked relieved, almost as if she had forgotten the horrible truth. If only for a small moment. “Goodnight, Javi.”

......

tag list: @stevieharrrr, @absurdthirst, @caitlincat-95, @mrsparknuts, @valhallavalkyrie9, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @randomness501, @watsonwise, @lokiaddicted (let me know if you want to be added!)

#javier pena x oc #javier pena x reader #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #not too happy with how this turned out #haven't been in the best mental place lately #but I got this finished for you all #hope you like it!!

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bookandcover · 3 years

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I feel I need to start this writing response with several context points, in the synergistic space among which I’ll frame my analysis of this book.

Context 1: I almost didn’t read this book. I wasn’t sure I wanted to and whether I would be comfortable reading it. This was because of limited context about the book itself, paired with reading JK Rowling’s Twitter comments from last year. I did not like nor agree with what JK Rowling said on Twitter adjacent to topics of transgender identity and experiences. Her comments made me unhappy and uncomfortable, and I’ve thought about her comments a lot because they came from someone I respected and admired. Her first comment I saw—questioning the title of an article about providing accessible products for “those who menstruate” (an area of need during the pandemic)—seemed simply ignorant to me, not intended to be cruel nor targeted. But her subsequent actions—arguing with others on Twitter, defending her original point—seemed to reveal a narrow-mindedness, self-superiority, and unwillingness to listen to others who know what they’re talking about. This approach (basically the Twitter-tantrum) is one that I feel sensitive to (it reminds me, in the worst way, of the behavior of our recent ex-President on the same platform…)

Context 2: After witnessing the Twitter-tantrum, I heard this book included a transgender serial killer. That did not seem like a good look on someone who had made ignorant and stubborn comments on Twitter about transgender identities: creating one (1) transgender character and making that character a villain. This is why I was hesitant about reading this book.

Context 3: I read a lot of books. I believe that you do not need to agree with someone to read what they have to say. If we agreed with everyone we read, we would not read in a way that expands our minds and adds nuance to our own views. Do I also fundamentally believe that we should not financially support nor enable those who are racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, and who use their platforms to spread hatred? Yes, I believe this strongly. I also believe that all of us are racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, and many other things we’ve been trained by society to be (there are, of course, significant degrees within this). Yet, I believe we are capable of growth, of learning, of compassion with each other and with ourselves. While JK Rowling’s comments and what I had heard about this book made me uncomfortable, I was still open to reading it. I recognize that this is, in big part, because I was not as hurt by her comments as others must have been.

Context 4: This book does not seem to include a transgender character. The serial killer turns out to be a relatively minor character (compared to my expectations for his role). He is not transgender. He is always masculine gendered. He occasionally dresses as a woman in order to approach women in a non-threatening way, in the process of kidnapping them. He is presented as smart, strategic, and an advanced planner, and his women’s garments are described as part of that strategy and not part of his identity (although, now I’m wondering whether JK Rowling thinks this does mean the character is transgender??) Dennis Creed also fools others beyond his victims with his occasional disguises used when kidnapping women. A bystander in the case Robin and Strike investigate does not intervene nor call the police when she sees two women struggling in the street, unlike how she might if she saw an assumed “man” struggling with an assumed “woman.” Yes, this serial killer’s attack strategy seems to connect to gender assumptions we make about others, and there’s the possibility that this portrayal of a man dressing as a woman in order to attack women could be interpreted as complaint against allowing transgender women into female safe spaces, like bathrooms (I felt like this would be a stretch based on only the text, but I definitely wonder given Rowling’s larger commentary). However, I feel that if I read this book without knowing it was written by JK Rowling, I wouldn’t have found anything particularly objectionable in it, nor would I have thought it was commenting on transgender identity and experiences.

None of this context is to say that I condone JK Rowling’s words on Twitter in any way, shape, or form; what she said was unacceptable, hurtful, and ignorant. She ought to have apologized and then promptly educated herself. But I was surprised that this book was pigeon-holed (I felt) in its tagline. I can’t imagine that the internet uproar that the book included a transgender serial killer was the conclusion of someone who actually read the book (and I find that surface-level assumption about a book concerning in its own way—the internet loves to flock to the sensationalist version of any half-truth). I didn’t come to an easy conclusion, in spite of this, about whether I ought to condone the book itself. JK Rowling’s comments made me not want to support her financially by buying the book, nor emotionally by reading it and spending my time on it.

Moving now past this larger context and my conflicting feelings about the ethics of reading this book, I did find this book a bit underwhelming. This book is LONG (927 pages) and I felt it could have benefited from stricter editing in some places. It didn’t really feel that long, as it has an, at times, nearly chatty tone—the characters move smoothly through their lives and conversations—and it’s easy reading, easy pacing, easy to go along with. This had the effect, to me, of making the book a bit flat. Not flat in a boring way, because it was easy to read and I kept just coasting through it, but flat in an emotional way. The part that got my heart racing the most was definitely the scene when Robin, in disguise, is nearly caught by Luca Ricci when he visits his gangster father in an up-scale nursing home. I clenched my hands around the book in fear throughout this scene, feeling like Luca Ricci was walking behind me, looking at me, as he loomed near Robin. It was harrowing.

The relatability of Robin is definitely the ongoing high point of this series for me. As another thirty-year-old tall blond woman who is way more ready to prioritize career than family, it’s not hard to see myself in Robin. I love her resilience and her quiet confidence. I love her increasing conviction that she is being her true self through her work. I love her struggle against the expectations of others, when she so clearly knows herself. It’s easy for me to want to emulate her. On top of her character, her job is one that’s also easy for me to romanticize. I have always loved mysteries, spies, disguises, complex human psychology, word puzzles, and piecing together hints and evidence. I loved whooping my family members’ butts in Clue as a kid. I love traveling and anything I see as an adventure (growing up, I was a huge dare devil—throwing myself off high dives, picking the scariest rides at amusement parks—until I got hurt a lot as a teenager and mellowed out some). I was definitely driven to romanticize some of these activities because my parents and sister were all deeply afraid of heights, which I found funny. Robin’s professional driving skills is about all it took for me to gasp aloud in awe and admiration. (I’d be lying if I said I haven’t imagined myself as Robin when I’m driving my Toyota Corolla, which is not a glamorous car, but mine is a glamorous COLOR, which is why I picked it). Robin has an awesome job, and she tackles it with grace, and the more strength she assembles, the more self-conviction, the more I love and admire her.

Robin and Strike’s characters are going through one of the slowest slow burns I’ve ever read in a book series. And, while I love a good slow-burn romance, I definitely have some mixed feelings about this one. Item 1: Earlier on in the series, I didn’t want Robin’s character to have a romantic plot line with Strike because of all the cool other things going on with her character development. I think I’m over that, especially in this book, because it’s increasingly clear here how well Robin and Strike’s particularities complement each other. Item 2: Are they better as friends? This seems to be the big central question of this book. They’ve gotten much better at expressing how much they mean to each other. Strike tells Robin that she’s his best friend (this was a great scene) and Robin’s confidence grows through understanding how central she is to functioning of the agency. She learns more about how she needs to operate differently than Strike as a leader within this space (yay for the scene where Morris is fired!) She both emulates and admires Strike, but also increasingly carves her own path. She doesn’t need to equalize their relationship, but she does need to equalize them in the eyes of others, and we see that characters from Morris to the unbearable C.B. Oakden undermine Robin’s equality by focusing on her relative youth and her gender. Would a romance between Robin and Strike reverse some of their own productive effort to equalize their relationship? This seems to be something both characters fear, as well. I do love seeing these two characters grow together—it seems like they’re working out each other’s love languages, understanding how best to express the other’s worth and their own care for each other in a way that is understood and appreciated by them both (there’s a big growth between Strike getting Robin flowers for her 29th birthday and taking her for drinks at the Ritz for her 30th). And this growth actually seems to form the backbone of the novel.

Is this, though, a relationship growth that is inherently romantic? The line seems to be slipping closer and closer to “yes.” I find loving platonic friendships to be very rewarding and very worth examining in literature, and I love a good slow burn, but something about the inconclusive status of this relationship is starting to wear on me. I think I wish it would either settle on the platonic side clearly, so we could explore the interesting things about that space, or progress on the romantic side, which has been a long time coming. I think part of my frustration here is that the growth of this relationship is, as I’ve said, the true arc of this novel. The change in these characters IS the arc because there’s not another one, and I think this deficiency contributes to the flatness of this book for me.

My favorite of the five Cormoran Strike books was number four, so I do think part of the anticlimactic feel of this firth book was the experience of reading this following book 4. Lethal White, as explained in my post on this book from a few years back, felt like it blazed new ground to me, in terms of what a murder mystery novel could do and be, and how it could unfold. I had a lot of sympathy for that murderer. The reveal was not about cracking the case, so much as it was about understanding human experience and context. Trouble Blood, though, felt reminiscent of book 2 as a narrative arc. I wasn’t particularly engaged by the reveal of the murderer—What was new about this character as the murderer? What could this show or explore? These felt like dead end questions to me. I was also confused by this character’s acceptance of their upcoming very public trial when they had so successfully enjoyed satisfaction from the shadows for decades. Their motivations, too, seemed under-explored, put aside as the fanatic behavior of one person when it seemed there could perhaps be threads to comment on there. The emotional arc between Robin and Strike didn’t seem particularly interwoven with their systematic solving of this cold case. Therefore, the joy of this plot had to be in the reveal itself, in the unspooling of the mystery…and this one just didn’t do it for me. I know the bar is high—from The Cuckoo’s Calling onward, we knew Robert Galbraith could spin a tightly woven tale—but what’s the point if all that this is is tightly (well, no longer so tightly) woven plot?

Robin feels an emotional connection with Margot Bamborough and I think we’re asked by the book to care about her, an ambitious woman who worked toward her dreams only to have these cut short, but she just never seemed that vivid to me. Less vivid than say Pat, the opinionated office secretary who I liked a lot. The best of the book was in the subtleties—Pat’s change of heart about Strike, Strike’s relationship with Joan as she’s dying, Strike fully letting go of his emotional ties to Charlotte (I guess that was something we really needed to see happen, him letting her go and actually changing his phone number), and Robin and Strike’s conversation where they affirm their best friend status (very wholesome). Overall, I wanted more from this book. It felt very realistic, very “slice of life,” but I’m not sure we come to the murder mystery genre for realism (more drama please!) But the book was nevertheless enjoyable, in a smooth way, like a story a friend tells you—easy to hear and to internalize, with two main characters you want to root for, but more out of familiarity and habit than because of what’s at stake for them in Troubled Blood.

#troubled blood #robert galbraith #jk rowling #TW: transphobia is mentioned/discussed #book reviews #cormoran strike #robin ellacott #robin ellacott: the reason I'm still reading these books #sixth book of 2021

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writingismyhappytime · 5 years

Text

Marry Me (Part 5)

Ricky Horror x Reader

Warnings: Language

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you and (Y/N) doing?"

Ricky pauses slightly, glancing back in the rear view mirror at his daughter where she sits in the car seat, curious. She’s staring straight ahead, expecting an answer he’s not quite sure of.

"What do you mean?" He's trying to get her to school on time, but the traffic has become a serious issue. He's eighty-five percent sure she's going to be late and a hundred percent that her mother is going to ream him a new asshole over it.

"Mommy says you're having a party and stuff, but Sam," Sam? Who the fuck is Sam? "--- says that you're getting married."

"Well, uh, we are."

"So does that mean you don't love Mommy anymore?"

Oh jeez.

Oh hell.

Ricky hasn't even had his coffee yet! His fingers tighten nervously around the steering wheel, and for a few panicked seconds, he doesn't know what to say; he honestly doesn't think he ever loved the mother of his child, but then there's moments when he just...

"I still care about her, Chloe, she's your mother. I'll always care, but now it's... different."

"How different?"

"Well, how I feel about (Y/N) isn't... the same as how I feel about your mother." Definitely a lot less contempt, that's for sure.

"Oh."

Oh?

"Oh?" Ricky echoes, thrumming his fingers, eyes periodically looking at her frowning reflection.

"So... what does getting married mean?"

"It means me and (Y/N) are going to live together, that when you get to stay with me, we'll be at her place and not me and Ryans."

"But I like Uncle Ryan!" She gasps, looking as if she'll never get to see the man again.

"I know, and you'll still get to see him. You'll just see (Y/N) a lot more, she'll be my wife."

"And what does that mean?"

Uh.

Why is she suddenly asking so many questions?

"It means we want to spend the rest of our lives together, that we love each other a lot." The words taste sour on his tongue because he knows they're a lie.

"But you don't love Mommy."

"Not anymore."

"So you... does that mean you'll stop loving me one day?"

Oh hell.

Ricky glances forward, seeing the traffic in front of him is going nowhere before he firmly twists, looking back at the little girl in the carseat. Her blue eyes are wide, and her lower lip is trembling like she's about to cry.

"I'll always love you more than anyone else in the world," Ricky says firmly, reaching back to squeeze her cold, sticky hand. "You're the most important person to me, and no one is ever going to change that. You understand? No one. I'd do anything for you, Chloe." He wants her to understand that, know how important she is to him. He doesn't want whatever her mother and this suspicious "Sam" character says to make her think that she's not his universe.

"But Mommy says when you're with (Y/N), you won't want me around anymore." Chloe sniffles, big crocodile tears forming on her dark lashes. "Th-that I'll b-be in the way."

"Oh no, baby, no." He squeezes her hand again, his chest pinching as it grows hot. "(Y/N) loves you too, we definitely want you with us. You can stay every single day if you want, we always want you there!"

It's all he can do not to grind his teeth, an angry, hot ball forming in the center of his chest at Chloe's words. She's genuinely upset, thinking her father won't want to see her after he marries his new wife, but that's not true at all. He's marrying you for her.

He wants to be a good father, he wants to do what's right and be able to see his little girl --- why does he feel like the universe is fighting so hard against that?

"No one is going to take you away from me," he says firmly after a moment, reluctantly letting go of her and turning around as the traffic around them starts to move. He shifts, his hands closing tightly around the steering wheel. "I promise, Chloe."

~~~~~~~~

Son of a dick.

You purse your lips.

Complicated, much?

How the hell do you even get in that dress by yourself? Sure, it's beautiful, and white, and has a pretty, sparkly train that will trail behind you. Sure, it's only two hundred bucks, you can just rent it for fifty, and it's in your size, and sure ---.

"Would you like to try it on?" the lady holding the dress asks after a moment, seeing your longing look.

It's a little out of your price range, you'd been hoping to find something around a hundred, but...

"Yes," you say resolutely, straightening. "Yes I do."

~~~~~~~

"Ricky."

"I don't want to talk about it, Ryan." Ricky turns nervously in the mirror, smoothing out some wrinkles on the suit he's renting for the wedding. Ryan had agreed to go with him, and get one since he has the honor of being the best man, needs one as well. "Were getting married."

"I know, I get it, I just --- it's so fucking sudden, man. You two weren't even interested in each other until last month."

"We were always interested, we just didn't let anyone know about it." Ricky hastily defends, shirking out of the tux jacket he decides he doesn't like; you already told him you're wearing white, and had pinched him when he'd mentioned he thought only virgins wore white on their wedding day. Anyhow, the colors were fairly simple and tame from what he thought; lots of white, some shade of red you're calling burgundy, and ---.

"Why not? You keep saying it's because you didn't want Claire to know, but you couldn't even tell me? We live together, dude, I got your back." Ryan says, and admittedly, he's hurt. Why couldn't Ricky tell him what was going on? Why all the sudden whispers and secrets with you? What the hell is going on?

Ricky hesitates, staring at his best friends reflection in the floor length mirror as he picks up a black vest with silver embroidery, slipping it on over his white dress shirt. He can trust Ryan with the truth, can't he? They've been best friends for so long and ----.

Fuck, Ricky has to tell somebody!

He takes a deep breath, mulling over his next words carefully.

"Ryan, I... I gotta tell you something."

~~~~~~

You bite your lower lip as you close your closet door, successfully hiding the long white gown inside. It's so pretty, and you're sort of excited to wear it; not sure how you're getting in and out just yet, but you'll figure it out.

Maybe your aunt will help? If you ever tell her, that is.

Yeah, you better get on that.

Hmm.

Cake is done, wedding venue chosen as the pastor had been ever so happy to do it for you and let you use the church when he realized you'd take nearly a grand off his repair, and looks like you found your dress!

So far so good.

Now did your future husband get his tux?

You: hey hubby darling, get your suit?

Ricky: yup. Found one. Even Ryan.

You: good. Found a dress! Also church is a go. And cake. Just gotta buy decorations and get catering taken care of.

You're not shocked he doesn't answer right away. All he sees is dollar signs, which you can understand, but you're not even going to tell him how much everything is going to cost, you'll take care of most of it. Really, the only reason it's even going to be a thing is because that's what you want and not him.

You just... well, who else will ever want to marry you?

You were always teased for being a Tom boy, and being raised by a single dad and in a car shop didn't help. You're not super girly, although you have your moments, and you're more then ready to get into a fight if it's something you believe in defending.

Some people tend to find that intimidating.

So really, other then your mechanics and your small remaining family, you won't have very many people there. Ricky will have his sister and parents, possibly Chloe and Claire, all of the guys hopefully, and whoever else he deems worthy of the invitation. It shouldn't be too big of a thing, right?

right.

Ricky: so I told Ryan.

Huh?

You sit down on the edge of your bed, kicking off your shoes and frowning at the message on your phone.

You: told him what?

Ricky: about the situation

You: THE situation? OUR situation! ?!?

Ricky: yeah, he deserved to know

You: I thought you wanted to keep it quiet...?

What the hell! He rants about wanting to keep Chloe and keep the reason you're getting married low key, and yet here he goes talking about it! Really, you like Ryan and figure he won't say anything, but still!

Ricky: I do but it's Ryan. It'll be fine he gets it

You: you better hope he does

~~~~~~~

"Chloe asked me if I wouldn't want her around when we get married," Ricky mumbles where he lays face down on your couch.

You glance up at him from where you sit in the floor, creating small bouquets of white and red flowers; you'd told your aunt you were getting married, she'd of course happily congratulated you, and she'd even offered to help with the planning! So at least now that's not completely on your shoulders, because obviously Ricky isn't any help.

"Why would she ask that?" You curl the black string around the stems of the fake flowers, tying them all together.

"I think Claire said something. And someone named Sam." His muffled voice is barely audible from how far he's buried his head against the couch pillows.

"Who's Sam?"

"I don't know!"

So frustrated.

"Ricky, she's a kid. She just doesn't understand."

"Yeah, but I don't want someone telling her I don't want her," he grumbles as he raises his head, eyes bleary. "Like, this entire thing is for her."

"Darn, and here I thought you were marrying me because of our undying love for each other."

"(Y/N)."

You chuckle, tossing him a bouquet of flowers and narrowly avoiding his head. "Help me work on these. I need twenty of them. And stop worrying so much, Chloe knows how much you love her, that'll never change. When she's older and understands a little more it won't be so bad."

"But ---."

"No buts. I need these as bouquets!"

He huffs, rolling himself up into a sitting position as he lifts a few flowers up. He watches as you wind the black material around them, arranging the flowers so that it actually looks nice. He frowns down at the bunch he holds, trying to copy your design.

"I'm just worried, I guess. That Claire will turn her against me, make her not want to be around me." he admits, his black tattoos catching his attention. "I mean, look at me. I don't exactly look like dad material, do I?"

You hesitate, turning to look at him over your shoulder. Does he really feel that way about himself?

"Ricky, you're a wonderful father. Chloe loves you to death, you spoil her." You say, immediately coming to his defense. "If you weren't good at it, I wouldn't do this for you, I wouldn't help you get custody of her."

"I just feel like I'm shit at it sometimes," he looks at you, unsure of why he's confessing it suddenly, but it gnaws at him. What if he could do better? Do musicians typically tend to have good relationships with their kids? When he tries to think of any, or even Google it, all he finds is divorce, the oddly named children split between bickering parents, and he doesn't want that.

He loves his daughter, he wants the best for her, and he'll be damned if he lets Claire fuck that up. He's just worried when he gets to court, the judge will take one look at him and give his ex full custody where he can barely see her. He knows when he's on tour, he can't care for her, but if he's married to you --- maybe the judge will give him a break.

"We shouldn't even have to go to court, everything has been fine." He mutters, scowling at his ugly bouquet. "She's just wanting more money off me and I don't have it. Sure the band is successful but I'm not going to let her bleed me dry, either. I want to see my kid like we agreed on when we broke up."

"Everything is going to be just fine, I'm sure of it," you say, your hand closing around his and squeezing. "It has to be. Have you tried talking to Claire about any of this?"

"I can't be within five feet of the woman without us getting into an argument about something," he shakes his head. "She drives me fucking nuts."

Well.

You frown, chewing your lower lip. "Don't stress yourself over that right now, we'll deal with that bridge when we come to it. Right now, just... well, just be excited that you're getting married to someone who is awesome, and fantastic, and will cook you spaghetti out of a box like a pro."

Ricky reluctantly chuckles, looking down at you. "Thank you, (Y/N), for doing all this for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smile brightly at him, squeezing his hand again. You get what he's saying, you understand his worry, but there's nothing else the two of you can do about it. All you can do is wait it out and see what happens. You figure if Ricky is going for a stable home environment, being married to you and you owning your own home and business is a good start. Plus, Chloe adores you, so that has to say something, right?

You'll worry about the rest of that later.

"I'm shit at making this flower things," Ricky grumbles, and you glance down at his hands. "How the fuck do you get them to stay like that?"

"Skill." You take the bunch away from him. "I'll fix them up, don't worry. So how did Ryan take the news, anyhow? You never did elaborate."

"Oh, well, I think it explained a lot to him, actually. He just didn't get why we were getting married so out of the blue unless I'd knocked you up."

"Did he think it was a good plan?"

"He called me stupid, actually." Ricky rubs the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. "And a few other things because I didn't tell him what was going on, but he's with us. I'm sorry about telling him, I just --- he's my best friend."

"I know, it's alright. You just... well, I was surprised. You were so adamant about keeping this between us." You shrug your shoulders, fixing the flowers and tossing them with the rest of your growing pile. "Just don't tell everyone or it'll be pointless."

He sighs. He doesn't need to be berated, but he understands what you're saying. He shouldn't have said anything, but... he said to tell someone.

"I'll start bringing some of my stuff up tomorrow, for your spare room." He says after a moment. "I was thinking since Ryan knows now, I don't technically have to move out."

Your hands pause.

"How are we supposed to keep up the guise of marriage if you're not even living with me?" You ask, getting annoyed. You're still sitting in the floor beside your coffee table, his legs beside you where he sits on the sofa. His hands are clasped, black ink stark against his pale skin.

"Just, well, I'll be over here a lot, but Ryan can't take the rent on fully just immediately."

"So I'm basically a halfway house then? When you have Chloe you're over here?"

"Sort of."

"You realize when you come over, you can't just sleep on the couch. Chloe will ask questions." Alright, you're really irritated. It's like he's taking a giant step back here, he's not committing at all! He can't live with Ryan if he's married to you, even fake! People will seriously notice that shit!

Ricky flushes. "I know. We can sleep in the same bed, I won't touch you."

You roll your eyes. "Do you really think I'm worried about some bullshit like that?"

You know Ricky wouldn't make a move, he doesn't like you like that. You can tell when you kiss him, well those few times you have, there's just no... passion there. He has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever, and though you find it sort of irksome, it's probably for the best. You already know there's something wrong with you, emotionally it seems like it's impossible to connect, but you suppose you shouldn't bitch too much.

Ricky is at least going to give you a beautiful wedding you can remember forever. You'll just have a ton of photos, and maybe one day you'll meet someone who loves you so much they can't breathe without you. You wish you could find something like that, to be just wildly and whole heartedly in love in a relationship. You want to love someone so much that it kills you not to see them, that you smile when you come home and find them waiting on you.

Why is that so hard to find?

Why can't you have that?

"My aunt wants to meet you, by the way." You decide it's best to change the subject. "Before the wedding."

"Oh, okay. I have Chloe this weekend."

"That's fine, you can bring her. I have little cousins she can play with, while us adults talk." Your aunt had been so over the moon when you told her you were getting married, she's about the only family that you have left. She's never heard of Ricky, has no idea what he looks like, so the shock of his appearance is going to be interesting.

You just hope this goes smoothly.

"Us adults talk?" Ricky echoes, and you nod as you get to your feet, your hair bundled in a bun on the back of your head.

"My aunt is going to literally slam you with questions about our relationship."

"What am I supposed to say?"

"The truth, for the most part." You gather up your wedding supplies, getting the bouquets all in a box with some other decorations. "Just not all of it. She's a big romantic, so she'll believe it all."

"Oh." Ricky rubs his hands nervously against his jeans. "What if she doesn't like me?"

"Ricky." You give him an exasperated look where you kneel by the TV, raffling through your boxes. "Don't be silly."

"Well, she's your family." Ricky has never met any of your family before. It makes him nervous. "If she doesn't like me ---."

"It's not a real marriage." You remind him, glancing up at your wallpaper, noticing it's starting to peel in one corner. You really need to get that fixed.

"I know. But it doesn't need to be hard on you if your aunt thinks I'm a dumbass."

"You're going to be fine, don't be dramatic. We can go over to her house for dinner on Sunday, how does that sound? Then we were going to head to the church and look at maybe decorating."

"Decorating?" Ricky blinks. "But it's not for a few weeks yet."

God, only a few weeks? He can't believe the day is coming at him so fast. Have you already sent the invitations? All of his guys are going to be there, and his family, but what about yours? Is there going to be special seating in the pews?

Ryan had laughed when he realized it was in a church.

"I want to get a headstart on things and the pastor said it was cool. My aunt is super excited about it, she's basically taken a lot of the planning over." You shrug your shoulders, your mind flicking to your dress. You really hope it looks as good on you on your wedding day as it did when you tried it on. Your aunt is a hairdresser, so she's going to help you get fixed up.

You want to look pretty, not like a grease rag as usual.

"Alright." Ricky glances at his phone. "I gotta get going, it's getting late."

"Okay." You straighten, and walk him to your front door, reminding him how to lock the door downstairs when he leaves.

"Yeah, I got it,"he waves you away. "Don't worry. I'll see you Sunday."

"Just let me know when you get home, be careful." You hug him, giving him a warm squeeze. You let your face rest against his shoulder for a moment, then, "And I don't want you worrying about you being a bad dad, okay? You're one of the best people I know, and that little girl adores you so much. You're doing it right."

"I hope so," he sighs, his breath tickling your neck as he tightens his arms around you, thinking about the situation. You hesitate, standing wrapped in his arms, growing warm. You can feel his heartbeat against yours, the stubble of his jaw as it brushes your skin, the rough material of his shirt. You honestly don't want to let him go, it's kind of nice to be held like this, even if it's just for a few moments. You take the opportunity to bury your face against his neck, letting his cologne wash your senses.

"Please don't flake out on me, okay?" You say after a moment, feeling him shift. "Like, don't leave me at the altar looking like an idiot waiting for you."

"I would never do that," he says in surprise, and he takes a step back so he can look down at you, blue eyes serious. "(Y/N) ---."

"It's just... you're so reluctant about all of this, and I don't want the big day to get here, and then you say no." You're embarrassed to bring it up, your cheeks are growing hot, but you want to get it out there. "Just please don't do that, okay? If you change your mind, do it beforehand."

"I would never do that to you," he says firmly, his hands cupping your shoulders, much like he does his daughter when he really wants her to look at him. "That's a shitty thing to do. I'll be there, waiting at that altar for those pigeons to fly over my head."

Your lips curve just the slightest. "Doves."

"Whatever, those birds. I promise I'll be there, and that we'll get married."

"And live happily ever after?"

"Something like that." He shrugs, squeezing your shoulders before letting go. "I'm not much of a prince."

"A knight in shining armor is sufficient." You smile at him, and he relaxes; you worried him getting all mushy suddenly, that's not like you. You're always the one telling him to man up, to stop worrying himself before he gets wrinkles.

He doesn't want this marriage to go wrong, it's strictly a business deal, his relationship with you is completely platonic. Sure, you're a very attractive woman, there's no doubting that, but you can be so... intimidating, sometimes.

"I'll see you Sunday," he says, and you watch him go with a frown.

You hope this isn't going to be a disaster.

~~~~~~~~~

"Don't be nervous," you grunt as you and Ricky walk up the concrete sidewalk to the modest yellow home, flowers growing up the sides, a white picket fence lining up the front yard. It looks like something out a movie, perfectly groomed, very... fifties.

He feels extremely out of place and incredibly anxious now.

Chloe holds his hand, admiring the pretty flowers. She thinks her daddy looks nice in his white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and she likes the place they're walking towards. You look nice too, especially with your hair down and the pretty color on your lips. She's not sure why everyone is so fancy, is this important?

"I'm not nervous," he huffs, letting you take the lead as you step onto the white porch with the swing, knocking on the door. Chloe stands right beside him, a red bow in her black hair to hold it out of her curious eyes. She's in a little red and black dress you picked out for her, and you even let her use your polish to paint her nails, which her mother never lets her do.

You take a step back as the door comes open, and your aunt welcomes you with open arms. She's a larger lady, wearing a white apron with curled hair that reeks of hairspray.

"(Y/N)! I'm so happy you made it!" Your aunt says in excitement, a necklace of pearls around her neck. She's beaming as her eyes sweep to the dark haired man standing behind you, and the little girl holding his hand. She notices the plentiful tattoos instantly, the black hair and the piercings, but she doesn't comment. Instead, she smiles, her arms widening before she wraps him in a hug that rivaled the one she gave you. "You must be Ricky!"

Ricky tenses. "Uh, yes. Nice to meet you."

"Auntie, this is Chloe," you introduce her to the little girl, who your aunt instantly is in love with.

She leans down to shake Chloe's hand, smiling at her. "Well, welcome, Chloe! It's nice to meet you!"

"You too." Chloe says, releasing her daddy's hand and holding onto your aunt's. Ricky looks panicked instantly, looking down.

"Well, come inside, all of you! Chloe, my grandson is in the living room watching TV, do you want to meet him?" Your aunt asks as you walk into the house. "He's watching some boy show, so we can change it if you like."

Chloe hesitates, her pale fingers suddenly curling into his fathers pants leg. "No, that's okay." She doesn't want to get too far away from Ricky, especially if there's a lot of new people.

"Well then, how about a snack? Dinner is just about done but it's still going to be a few minutes."

"Okay." Chloe could totally go for a snack. She likes snacks.

Your aunt leads her off to the kitchen, which Ricky is assuming is where that amazing smell is coming from. He stays glued to your side as you follow her, shirking out of your coat and laying it on the back of a chair that apparently is serving as the coat rack as well. You're completely relaxed whereas he feels like a tightly strung rubberband, ready to snap at any moment.

Chloe is already sitting at the table when you enter the room, munching on a chocolate chip cookie from the looks of it; you made it explicitly clear she was allergic to peanuts, so you don't have any worries your aunt will give her anything.

"Kaleb is playing video games in the living room," your aunt says of your cousin, checking the contents of her oven, which is green and probably from the seventies. "And Leo is still out in the garage fiddling with that old truck of your dads."

Leo is her husband, your uncle by marriage, although he's never treated you like you weren't blood. He's one of your favorite people and really helped you out around the shop when your dad died.

"Cool." You gesture for Ricky to sit at the table, which is already set for dinner with flowery plates and empty glasses. The kitchen smells heavenly and Ricky finds he's suddenly famished.

Chloe offers him a bite of her cookie, but he shakes his head; Ryan always feeds her junk at the house, and Ricky never really believed in the whole no sweets before dinner thing. So long as she doesn't eat her weight in cookies she'll still eat her food.

"I'm so glad you three could make it," your aunt says, still smiling; honestly she's just glad to see you involved with someone again, that you're not going to end up a spinster! She's a little concerned that you might be pregnant with how hasty the wedding is, but at least the boy is making it right by marrying you! "We haven't had a family dinner in ages!"

"I know, I'm sorry." You say hastily, crossing your legs beneath the table. "I just stay busy at work."

"Well apparently not busy enough to not have a boyfriend," your aunt chuckles, giving Chloe another cookie she happily accepts. "How long have you two been an item, anyway?"

You and Ricky look at each other. You told him there would be relationship questions that he better be able to answer, so the two of you concocted a plan earlier.

"Uh, we've known each other for years." Ricky hedges when you don't say anything, nervously rubbing his palms against his thighs beneath the tablecloth. "Seems like forever now."

"Yes but when did you decide you were in love? Was it spontaneous?" Your aunt loves romance, she wants all the details; did he sweep you off your feet? Plan a romantic getaway? How did everything transition from friendship to more?

"You could say that," you chuckle, reaching under the table to squeeze his hand, he doesn't have to squirm. Your aunt will sense his fear. "It just sort of happened."

"Well, that's always the best way." Your aunt nods her head. "Just sort of happened," means you're pregnant after a possible one night stand with each other. "Why, I dated Leo for three years before I ever agreed to marry him, but we were sweethearts through high school as well. Oh but times were so different then," she sighs at the memories. "He would bring me flowers, sometimes cook dinner when I was pregnant with Tony," her first son, "and you know how much I enjoy the mushy things in life."

Oh.

You do.

Ricky is glad he doesn't have to say anything else, your aunt keeps a rather constant chatter once she gets started. Chloe seems quite content to just eat cookies and look around the room, thinking it looks a lot like her grandmas. She eventually wanders off into the livingroom where your cousin is playing video games, although Ricky keeps a focused eye on her through the open doorway.

"So, do you two have much planning left for the wedding?" You aunt asks, and you shake your head, propping your chin on your hand.

"Not really. I have the cake and catering done, thanks for suggesting that restaurant down town, they were super reasonable."

"Of course, I'm friends with Becky, I figured she'd give you a good deal."

"I have my dress, the tux, Chloe is going to be the flower girl and I've already picked her out the cutest little dress," you add, it's currently hanging in your closet. "It's white like mine, but there's flowers all around the hem that'll match my theme."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Lennie said she could be your maid of honor, I know you said you didn't want a lot of bridesmaids."

"Yeah, we're trying to keep it fairly small," you agree, watching your aunt move around the kitchen. Lennie is her daughter, your cousin, and Ryan would be walking her down the aisle to your altar; you're nervous and excited at the same time, but you're ready to get the decorating done and get this over with! You feel like Ricky is making it a huge event in his mind, when in reality it's not going to be that big of a deal.

It'll go smoothly.

You hope.

"Now, the wedding is around two, so you'll want to be at the church around seven so we can get your dressed and ready." Your aunt reminds, checking the oven again. "I'll make sure the catering and everything is ready. Ricky, honey, do you and your best man have everything together? I can make sure you get to the church, you can ride with Leo."

"Uh, that's okay. We have everything together." Is she trying to make sure he makes it to the wedding, or doesn't? He sends you a nervous look, but you just smile at him, reaching over to squeeze his hand where it clenches in his lap. You're so relaxed, and after a moment he forces himself to mirror your image. This dinner is nothing to worry about, it's just for looks anyhow, meeting the family. "The invitations and everything are already sent out."

"So everyone has RSVP'd?"

"Yes." You say when Ricky just hesitates. "We pretty much know the headcount for the wedding. Not too big, just around twenty or so people."

His band of course, their plus ones, some of your family, the guys from your shop, any other friends Ricky wants to be invited--- a pretty intimate event.

"Well that's good." Your aunt takes a big pan of food out of the oven, pleased at the golden hue of her turkey; she really wanted to go all out cooking for dinner, so she's made a large meal. "(Y/N), will you go grab Leo from the barn? Dinner's ready."

"Sure," you slowly push to your feet, seeing Ricky's panicked face immediately. You pat his shoulder absently as you pass by, heading out to where your uncle is. Your aunt turns on your future husband immediately, and he sort of shrinks back in his seat at her serious look.

oh god.

"Well, she seems very content with you," your aunt comments as she sits the turkey on the range cooktop, the heat prickling her skin. "You must be treating her well, I never thought she would get married."

"She changed her mind, I guess." Ricky manages after a moment, hoping you hurry back. "She said yes to me when I proposed."

"Yes, and quite a quick proposal. We never knew she was interested in anyone."

"Yeah, I know it seems like it's moving pretty fast, but we're serious about it." He almost feels bad for outright lying, and he squirms in his chair. "She wanted to get it over with. The wedding, that is."

"You're letting her have her way with it, it seems."

"Well, it's whatever she wants. Pigeons and all," he waves his hand dismissively.

Your aunt blinks. "Do you mean doves?"

"Uh, yes. Doves." He can never remember. "I know she wants a really nice wedding, and I want to make sure that's what she gets. So doves, flowers, fifty bridesmaids --- whatever makes her happy."

"I never pegged her as a romantic." Your aunt looks out the window where she knows you'll be coming from with her husbamd, almost smiling. "Being raised by her father and all. It's nice to know she didn't let that go. You know he raised her by himself? He did his best by her, but a girl needs her mother too."

"She seems just fine." Ricky hesitates, wishing it wouldn't be weird if he stood; he doesn't like sitting down, he feels vulnerable. Your aunt seems nice, and she keeps a tidy kitchen, yellow wallpaper and all --- he feels like he's in a TV show meeting the parents for the first time, but at least the room is homey, and no one is sitting cleaning their shotgun somewhere. "She's tough as nails."

"Oh, I know she is." Your aunt turns to look at him, and he notices you almost have the same eye color. "But I've always worried. It's not right for a little girl to always be on her own, and before you, she's never had much luck with finding the right gentleman. I just hope that you treat her right, and you make her happy, because she deserves that after all she's been through."

Yep, Ricky feels incredibly guilty now. "I promise I'll treat her the best I can," he says sincerely, a serious look on his face. "I can't guarantee she'll always be happy, but I'll take care of her. She's done more for me than anyone else in my life, she's always been here when I needed her. I'm not going to let her down now."

Well, strange way of putting it, but your aunt seems content with his words. "I hope so." is all she says, turning away. "Does your daughter like cherries?"

~~~~~~~

"Hey, Leo. Dinner's ready," you say as you step into the barn, glancing around the junk-strewn area. Your uncle converted it into a garage, so all his tools are everywhere, the ancient truck in the very middle on stilts. You look down expectantly as your uncle rolls out from under it, a wrench held in hand, oil staining his coveralls.

"You look nice, sweetpea." He comments, giving you a smile as he pushes himself up. "I'm glad you came over for dinner."

"Thanks," you hug him quickly, finding a little comfort in the smell of engine oil and whatever laundry detergent your aunt uses. It's how your dad used to smell too after working on cars all day. You hold him a little tighter before you let go, forcing a bright smile up at him, noticing the gray eating at his hair. "Auntie fixed up a big meal, didn't she?"

"Been cooking all day to get things ready," your uncle nods his head, tossing his tool into the red toolbox sitting on the wooden workbench, grabbing a rag to rub the oil off his hands. "Been talking nonstop about you and your man."

Right, your man.

"Yeah, I left Ricky with her. Not sure how good an idea that was."

"She's giving him the third degree, no doubt." Your uncle chuckles, glancing towards the house. "Is he a good man?"

"Yeah, he's good. You'll like him."

"Know anything about cars?"

Pffft.

"No, but I think I have that taken care of," you chuckle, slipping your arm through his and lightly urging him towards the house, a little worried Ricky might slip up and spill your big secret --- he's already told one person! Your aunt can be very... intimidating sometimes, and Ricky is the weak link. "He's a musician."

"Is he good?"

"His band is successful."

"Hmph." Your uncle wants to make sure you're taken care of; sure, you own a shop, so financially you'll be alright, but he doesn't want you having to support someone who can't hold a job and keeps trying for their dreams. You're too smart to have to take care of a bum, especially with a kid from another relationship. He's honestly surprised you're getting married, he never figured you would.

"So, um, you're going to walk me down the aisle right?" You ask after a moment as the two of you start forward, flicking your eyes up at him. "I don't have to walk myself?"

"Course I'll be walking you," your uncle wouldn't have it any other way. "Promised your dad I'd take over for him, and I meant it. Your kids can even call me grandpa if you like."

You chuckle, shaking your head; you and Ricky aren't going to be having children, you're not sure if you ever will. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Now this boy, he treats you well? You're not making any rash decision are you?" he then asks, just to be clear. He won't let you be bullied or rushed into a marriage, not even if you are pregnant, which is what your aunt is worried about. Why else would you want to get married so quickly if not for a child?

"No, no, this is something I want. I've always wanted a pretty wedding, and Ricky is pretty much letting me have full reign," you say, which is true; he's barely helped any, if you're being honest, but you're going to let it slide. "We want to get married."

"Hmph." Your uncle steps up on the front porch, not quite satisfied with your answer but dropping it for the time being. he opens the front door, letting you step inside, his eyes flicking towards the living room where he can see the kids, noticing the pretty little girl with her dress and bow in her hair giggling.

You used to be so little like that too, but you were such a tomboy. You wouldn't wear ribbons or bows, and you hated your Sunday dresses. Your father never really enforced it, but you had to wear them for your aunt, she wanted you to be girly sometimes.

Didn't really seem to rub off on you, though.

"Wash up and we can eat," your aunt says with a welcoming smile to her husband, gesturing him towards the sink. You take your seat by Ricky, glancing between him and your aunt as you settle; did he spill the beans, or maintain the ruse? He gives you a slight smile, which sort of looks more like a grimace, so you figure your lie must still be good, otherwise, he'd look totally panicked.

"Just think, this time next year, you'll be married." Your aunt gushes, beaming just thinking about it. "In a few more weeks, you'll have your own little family!"

Ricky and Chloe, right.

"Have you two thought about getting a house together?" Your aunt asks, handing your uncle a towel without even looking at him. He'd been looking around trying to find the hand towel, it's like she has eyes in the back of her head. "Maybe one with a little fence, plenty of room for the babies to play outside."

Babies?

No more babies, Ricky feels sick just at the thought of more than one kid!

"Well, to begin with, we're just going to stick with the apartment," you say hastily. "Maybe eventually we'll find a place we like, but we're not rushing it."

"Well, you're young, no need in rushing," your uncle grunts, turning around to eyeball Ricky thoroughly as he dries his hands; this is his first good look at the boy. He's not too muscular, a little pale with long hair, lots of tattoos. He doesn't really seem your type, but opposites attract he supposes. "Take a long time, enjoy what you have together. You don't have to bring kids into it immediately."

"Well, a baby is always a good addition though," your aunt adds hastily, sending her husband a look. "I love little babies! Their little toes, and their laughs! No one has any grandbabies for us yet."

Well, it's not going to start with you, that's for sure.

You start to answer, but you don't really know what to say, you hadn't prepped completely for this question. Luckily, Chloe comes into the room, asking if the food is ready because she's starving! Ricky even looks relieved, and your aunt is quickly distracted.

Thank goodness.

Chloe takes her seat beside Ricky, completely comfortable with your family. She's all yes please and thank you's, so polite you're actually quite impressed. Ricky might grouch about her mother, but she's done a good job teaching her child manners.

Your eyes flick to your future husband. Next week, actually, and the two of you will be married. Is he ready? Are you ready?

You really hope it isn't a disaster.

Tags: ryansitkowskiswifey, theoneandonlykymberlee, maelloute, musicsexandpizza69, jojomiwbvb6 svintsandghosts

#ricky horror #miw #motionless in white #motionless in white imagines #ricky horror fan fiction #ricky horror imagines #marryme

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weirdochick56 · 5 years

Text

Troublemaker- John Shelby Imagine

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Explicit Language.

Disclaimers: I don’t own any PB characters/plots mentioned.

Word Count: 1,985 words

Summary: The reader is new to Small Heath but is already brewing up trouble. She heads to the Garrison afterward and there she catches John boy’s eye. She’s fiery and brave and against every word of caution can’t help but fall for those deep blue eyes as well.

A/N: I’ve been watching Peaky Blinders obsessively and can’t seem to stop, so I did what I always do when I join a new fandom. I wrote a fanfic. I’m also thinking about writing a Michael and Tommy one.

The thick smoke of Small Heath filled your lungs as you took huge gulps of air through parted ruby red lips which were probably smudged by now. The wide smile on your face was starting to induce a barely-noticeable ache on your cheeks.

“Bloody hell, Y/n, you’re fucking insane!” Your best friend, Y/b/f’s, strides slow down to a speed-walk as she laughs loudly.

You grin mischievously at her, trouble sparkling clearly in your youthful y/e/c eyes. “Am I?” You shrug, walking proudly through the murky streets. “I don’t think it’s all that crazy. That bitch was talking shite about me.”

Y/b/f raises an unconvinced brow. “So you decided the best option to put that to a screeching halt to that was to beat her to a pulp?”

You look down at your bloodied knuckles with a slight wince, a dark, twisted part of you enjoying the pain burning through your bruised hand. “Yes.”

She throws her head back, laughs bubbling from her throat and infectious enough to erupt some from you too. You giggle, bumping your hips with her as your heels dig into the wet ground.

“You totally fucked that shit-eating, smug smirk off her hideous face. I loved when you brought your fist down on her throat!” She squeals. “You are a true savage my friend!” She pats your back with pride.

And it was true. You’d always been a troublemaker. A true rebel at heart. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to be or act like a proper lady, you just...couldn’t. It wasn’t your nature to abide by the rules, much less the ones are written down for women, no matter how hard you tried.

When you and your single mother moved to Birmingham a few weeks ago, you were hoping for a fresh start from the gossiping small town you’d originated from. Spewed lies of the nature of your father’s death had been the main reason behind the move, but alongside it was your behavior. Your mom had it stuck in her head that you were out of control. The fighting, the rioting, the snarky remarks to anyone who attempted to be nice...you always managed to find a way to get in trouble.

So when you’d gotten here and met someone who understood your madness, or at least supported it, Y/b/f, you were thrilled. It was no surprise that you’d already gotten into a fight with someone within just a few weeks. But the girl deserved it.

You’d been enjoying your day at the bullring with your friend when suddenly, the girl hurled some disgusting, misguided comment at you as you walked past then began giggling with her friends. It was the most offensive thing anyone had ever said to you, so after getting over your initial shock at her mere audacity, you clench your fists and turn back around, running full force at her and tackling her the ground.

She let’s out a loud yelp, attempting to fight off your iron-grip on her hair, all the while screaming even more prejudiced comments against “your kind” (whatever that meant). People quickly gathered around as you both fought, with your fury easily overpowering her weak attempts to defend herself.

So long story short, she probably wouldn’t be eating dinner that day from all the dirt she had filling up her stomach.

Walking slowly, suddenly, you get a brilliant idea. Smirking, you turn to your friend and wiggle your brows. “Wanna go to the Garrison to celebrate my victory?”

Your friend’s joyful face immediately falls. “W-what?”

It was no secret the Garrison was the spot where the infamous Shelby clan often went for a drink or two. In fact, they owned it. The kings of Small Heath, the gangster leaders of the terribly dangerous Peaky Blinders, the scariest gang of them all.

Y/b/f had warned you about them, advising you to stay far away from them and the Garrison. To be honest, you couldn’t really see what the big deal with them was. They were rarely around you.

But you’d also been curious about them the moment you got here, so it wasn’t really a matter of whether you’d see them or not, but when.

She shakes her head furiously. “No. W-we can’t.”

You roll your eyes at her, walking closer to the famous pub, heart racing. “Says who?”

She gulps audibly, gripping your arm tightly in order to halt your progressive movements to the business. “I do.”

You scoff at her, looking evenly into her eyes. “Would you calm down? It’s not that big a deal. I just want a drink.”

She shakes her head insistingly. “What if one of them takes a liking to you and then-“

You cut her off abruptly. “Y/b/f, no one’s gonna take a liking to me.” You gesture to yourself. “I literally look like I just rolled around in the fucking dirt willingly.” You tug her as she stumbles along hesitatingly. “Plus, even if one of them did, what makes it think I’d ever let them touch me?”

She releases a shuddering breath. “You don’t get much of a choice in the matter.”

“We’ll see.”

The Garrison was more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined this place to be. Gold was the color that stuck out the most to you amongst the wooden, dark background and flailing drunks.

They were boisterous as they chattered and laughed, clashing their cups and chugging their designated alcoholic beverages down like it was water.

You smile brightly, immediately going for the bar.

The bartender, an older man, eyes you with quirked brows, the fact that he suspected you a newcomer clear as day to you.

You ignore his questioning gaze and sit on a stool, your friend following suit with a nervous glance around.

“Dark rum for me and my friend please.” You smile politely at the man.

He shakes his head at himself but nods at you, turning around to retrieve the glasses. He places them both in front of you with a light slam. You feel y/b/f jump slightly at the noise and scoff at her jumpiness.

As he pours the amber liquid into the glass, her hand suddenly grips your arm tightly, fingernails digging into your skin urgently.

You frown, looking up at her. “Jesus fuck Y/b/f! What-“ your eyes follow her trail of view and you immediately stop talking.

Men, tall and handsome and sporting flat caps, and expensive fabrics for their coats stand near the doorway of the pub, surveying it slightly.

They emitted an intense aura of dominance and people in the pub immediately quieted down once made aware of their presence.

It was eerily silent.

You turn to your friend with raised brows, whispering under your breath. “And who the bloody hell are they?”

She looks frightful. “The Shelby brothers.”

You snort at the breathiness of her voice, turning back to face them confidently. These were the Shelby’s? The so-called kings of Birmingham? The ones to be feared? They didn’t scare you all that much.

They looked menacing as hell, you weren’t gonna lie. Probably were too. But...you liked it. Something about the swagger in their step ignited a big fire in your belly. Excitement, exhilaration.

As they walk further in, you notice the one on the left with a toothpick in his mouth. He was clearly the youngest out of the three, what with his youthful handsome face. He was absolutely gorgeous with those plump pink lips and high cheeks bones, a trait seemingly running in the family. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes due to the shadow cast over them by the flat cap, you were convinced they were breath-taking.

Suddenly, almost as if he felt you looking, his gaze snaps to yours, head tilting up and dimmed light hitting his striking features, as your eyes clash. Your breath hitches and your diaphragm doesn’t expand. They were even more breathtaking than you’d ever suspected.

They were the color of a clear blue sky. Of a vast, beautiful glistening ocean. One you were more than willing to drown in.

The toothpick swirled around in his mouth as his eyes flashed with confusion then surprise then curiosity at you.

You snap back to reality and blush, looking away from him. Your heart felt like it was about to fall out of your chest with how fast it was beating, and for the first time, your hands get clammy and a shaking breath leaves you.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and pick up the dark rum, downing it with a throw back of your head and clicking of your tongue at the bitter aftertaste.

“You go,” you motion to your friend, you purses her lips in hesitation, eyes still set behind you.

You can feel their presence next to you as the chatter revives in the pub and they slide onto the bar but you try to ignore them.

“Oh for fuck’s-“ you sigh in exasperation, throwing your hands up and twirling around on your heels.

They were facing the bar until they hear your little outburst and now their eyes are set on you.

You smirk a little and swat your friend’s hand on your elbow attempting to convince you to turn away. “Are you going to kill us?”

“ ‘At the bloody fook?” The eldest mutters at you and you raise a brow.

“You heard me. Are you going to kill us for drinking here?” You lean casually against the bar, voice challenging.

The middle one, but seemingly the leader, steps in, raised brows. He speaks in a teasing manner, but with a cautious tongue. They’re all clearly equal parts amused and cautious at your tone with them.

“That wouldn’t be good for business would it, miss?” His voice is soft and elegant and it makes you a little disappointed.

Where was the rugged edge? The rasp of a criminal?

You smirk at them unblushingly. “No, it would not Mr. Shelby.”

Then you turn to Y/b/f. “See? Now drink the fucking rum or I’ll do it for you.”

She gives you a ‘did you really just fucking do that?’ look, and you just shrug. So she nervously rolls her eyes and drinks the entire thing in one gulp.

“What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking love?” The voice, this time, is deep but youthful and definitely has the criminal rasp. It’s Toothpick boy.

You turn to face him again, brows raised. “It does bother me actually.”

He raises a shocked brow at you. “You aren’t from ‘round here are you?”

“Why would you say that?” You thumb your chin, leaning into him.

He smirks and your heart leaps into your throat. “I’m sure I would’ve remembered if you were.”

You’re shocked at his shameless flirting but conceal it nicely. “I suppose so.” You shrug nonchalantly.

He motions to your bedraggled appearance. “What happened to you then?”

You grin innocently. “A dog-faced bitch looked at me wrong so I had to teach her a lesson.”

He chuckles and the sound makes you feel warm. Then he gives you a sultry look. “You’re a feisty one, eh?”

You eye him up and down with indifference, your unimpressed gaze landing on his crotch area. “Probably more feisty than you can handle, big boy. So don’t get any ideas.”

His brothers muffle snickers behind him. He forces himself to scoff out a laugh, clearly taken aback by your brazen response.

You don’t give him the time to respond, tugging a few quid from your purse and slamming it down on the counter. You loop your arm through Y/b/f’s and smile up at the Shelby’s.

“Let’s go Y/b/f.” Then you nod at them in acknowledgment and make your way to the exit.

Toothpick boy calls after you. “The name’s John by the way love!”

You don’t stop on his account, calling over your shoulder. “I didn’t ask, love!”

His brother’s snickers and the eldest’s approving “I like her” is the last thing you hear before stepping back out to the cold Small Heath air.

***

Hey guys!! My first Peaky Blinders Imagine and it’s sort of short, but I like it short and sweet!

I hope you enjoyed, lovelies.

Please, please leave feedback. Messages, asks, replies, I see them all!!

Tell me if you wanna be tagged in any shape or form. Now that Peaky Blinders is a fandom I’m more than happy to write, you can ask to be tagged in that too.

A Special Thanks To:

@sherlockedtash88

@jessikared97

@lilypalmer1987

@mogaruke - My MAGNIFICENT forevers.

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader

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buckysforeverprincess · 6 years

Text

Blurred Lines 2/2

Steve Rogers X Reader

Words: 5269

Warnings: Language, minor character murders

A/N: I’ve been siting on this one for a while, and finally decided I was happy enough to post it. This is a follow up for Crossed Lines and should probably be read first, but you don’t have to. Hope you enjoy this, and thanks for reading!

<Read Crossed Lines here

“Y/L/N! Let’s go…time to move out!” You looked at the voice and nodded; grabbing your bag and waiting for the bars to open. The time had finally come to leave the place you’ve called home for the past seven years. Honestly you weren’t sure if you wanted to leave, not ready to face what’s waiting for you outside.

The day you walked into Steve’s office you already had a plan in mind. You had been by the mob bosses side for many years, loyalty never fading. There was a connection between the two of you-some would even call it love, but that wasn’t Steve. Steve was a cold, hard boss, and even through the many nights of phenomenal sex, and an immense amount of loyalty, he never said you were anything more than his employee. You were lucky to get away with calling him Steve, he was known as Grant Rogers. It pissed him off, but he let it go. He loved to hear it when he fucked into you every night.

You’d finally had enough of being sidelined and vowed to do something about it. Stark was the key to getting what you wanted, but it would come at a heavy cost. Steve would only see your actions as betrayal.

Approaching Stark was easy. He listened to your pitch and agreed; your talent, skill, and expertise would be a valuable asset by his side. Besides, he was encroaching on Steve’s territory. If he took his most valuable player away from him, Stark thought he could get under the man’s skin and make him slip. Stark didn’t know Steven Grant Rogers at all, and if he had, he never would have let you close to him. Steve trained you to be the hard bitch and cold calculated killer you were.

In the end, you left Steve’s office with a kill order on your head and made a B line to Stark. The man welcomed you with open arms, and it didn’t take long for him to completely trust you. Three weeks later, your plan had come to fruition and Tony Stark was dead, and you were on a one way trip to the department of corrections.

One public defender later, and you were sentenced to fifteen years in the women’s correctional facility. Since you were an expert at what you did and never showed your face, your record was clean and parole would be considered after seven years. Today was the day you left the facility and entered back into society ‘rehabilitated’ and ready to contribute and live out the rest of your days in quiet. No matter how limited they were.

It wasn’t all bad, the time spent in prison. You kept to yourself, only talked when prompted, and did exactly as the guards said. Sure, when you arrived a few inmates wanted to test your resolve, but one fight was enough to prove you weren’t one to be fucked with, and you spent the rest of your time being left alone; but always watching your back. Mob life had prepared you well.

Walking to the gate, you took in everything around you. The sun was shining, the fence and barbed wire were high, the guards were ready with their guns, and you just wanted to get the hell out. You wanted to run, thanking god for your freedom, but the man on the tower with the rifle looked like he was an excellent shot. You didn’t want to test that theory.

Making your way to the final exit, you look out to the car waiting for you. “Fuck!” The guard in front of you looks back, eyebrows raised in question. “Uh, I tripped. Sorry.” She rolls her eyes and continues to escort you to the gate, freedom or death waiting on the other side.

The gate begins to retract, and you watch as the man standing next to the car comes into view. He still looks damn good, but you can’t think about that now. Now it was time to face the music, and see how long you can live on the outside of the prison walls you had called home for the past seven years.

“So it’s you? He send you to kill me?” You ask the brunette, making sure to keep a healthy distance between the two of you.

“He sent me to bring you home.” Bucky answers, moving in closer to you, but you take a step back and hold out your hand.

“That’s close enough. I’m good.” Trust was in short supply, and you couldn’t trust anyone of the mob bosses cronies.

“Relax, love. I’m just here to pick you up and take you back to Grant. He wants you back home.” Bucky pulls out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out with his mouth and lighting it.

“That’s the thing…I don’t have a home. I have a place, courtesy of the State of New York. Gotta go stay there, and I ain’t got time for you.” You start to walk away, knowing one way or another you were as good as dead.

“Y/N, quit fucking around! Get in the goddamned car so we can get you back home where you belong!” Bucky yells at you, making you stop in your tracks.

“Haven’t belonged there in seven years. Besides, I gotta better shot at living if I don’t get in that car. I like my odds in the open air!” You give Bucky a two finger salute and start walking away from the prison.

“Suit yourself!” He gets in the car and drives off, leaving you to walk just like you wanted. There was no way you could be seen with anyone from Grants crew ever again. The life as a parolee demanded it. Not only that, word was your kill order was never rescinded, which means Steve could end you at anytime. The mob boss wasn’t above using Barnes to get to you. He’d do whatever he could to get what he wants, and you were pretty sure he would come for his pound of flesh.

The walk was long and you were exhausted once you checked into the place that would serve as your new home. Your lawyer had arraigned for you to spend a month here until you could make permanent arrangements. Your parole officer agreed, but mandated regular daily check ins until you moved to a place of your own. It wasn’t the best, but freedom wasn’t guaranteed and could be easily taken away. You’d do what you needed and follow the rules. You never wanted to see the walls of the prison again.

It’d been a week since your release. The check-ins were going well; your parole officer was pretty lax and you only had to pop your head in and he’d dismiss you to leave, not being one for idle chatter. The job hunt, well that’s an entirely different issue. No one wants to hire an ex-con that has a high school degree and some college credits. And no one wants to hire the woman that killed the mob boss Tony Stark. Try adding that tidbit to your shitty resume and watch how many doors get slammed in your face.

Walking back to your place you knew you were being followed. Fucking amateur. You clocked the blonde as you left the parole office, stealth wasn’t her strong suit. Glancing at her you can see her long legs and hair and you know she’s exactly his type. Clearly he’s not giving up. It’s time to just get this over with and let whatever happens, happen. No more dodging this any longer.

You turn down the alleyway, which isn’t smart, but it’s the best chance you have at surprise. Standing next to the entrance you wait. She’s not smart and she’ll follow, you already had a read on her. You just had to wait for her to be an idiot. You were positive she in fact was.

Sure enough, idiot girl turns into the alley, not expecting you to be standing and waiting at the entrance. “Looking for someone?” You were leaned up against the building. The blonde pulls out her gun and points it directly at you. You roll your eyes at her and begin shaking your head. She obviously has no idea who she’s messing with.

“Put that away before you hurt yourself.” The blonde scoffs at you and keeps the gun pointed in your direction.

“I could kill you right now.” She replied, the facade not really working for her.

“You never had me in your sights. Still don’t. I’d kill you before you even squeezed the trigger…but I’m not going back to that shit hole, so it’s your lucky day.” You remain calm and relaxed seeing the hesitation in her eyes.

“The only reason you’re alive is because he wants to see you.” Of course he does and Grant always gets what he wants.

“Why don’t you just pull the trigger-get it over with.” You taunt her, trying to get her to slip up.

“Nope!” The blonde accents the word, most likely for dramatic effect. “I can’t kill you just yet…but when I do, I get a place by his side, just like he promised.”

“Hahahaha!” You burst out loud with laughter. The woman obviously is not amused by your shenanigans and is still looking at you, trying to gauge if she should shoot you or let you go.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?! You may fit Steve’s type as far as outward appearance, but you’re far from being anywhere near his side.” You remove yourself from the wall and begin to leave the alley, leaving the woman to watch, stunned, as you walk away from her. “Come on, dumb ass! Let’s go!” You look back at her in her state of confusion. “Are we going to see Steve or what?!”

She puts the gun away and jogs up next to you and leads you back to her car several blocks away. The blond unlocks the car, and you get in the passenger seat and buckle up for safety. “Seat belts. So we can be safe.” You look to her with an amused smile.

“You’re not funny.” She starts the car and puts it in drive.

“And you’re already dead, but I’ll explain all that later since you’re a little slow on the upkeep.” Blondie rolls her eyes and maneuvers her way into traffic heading in the direction of the mob bosses mansion.

“Grant.” She says out of thin air.

“Excuse me?!” You question the use of Steve’s middle name.

“His name is Grant. No one is allowed to call him Steve.” Another laugh comes from your mouth, disrespect apparent. You have no time for her games or Grant’s for that matter. Fuck everything to do with this life.

“One. I’m the only one to call him Steve. He’s Grant to everyone else. Two, you’re not fit to be by his side. It takes a special kind of woman, and if I wasn’t it, then you are definitely out of your depth. And lastly, tonight you die! But not before I’m ready. I could have killed you in the alley, but didn’t. Enjoy your last moments among the living.”

You turn and look out the passenger window and watch the scenery pass by. There’s no more conversation to be had…everything was out in the open. There’d be a death by your hands tonight. Question was, would you be granted your own?

The mansion was the same as it was all those years ago, pristine and kept. Steve-no Grant, was always big on outside appearances and his home had to be prefect and show his attention to detail. This home could and should be featured in those beautiful home magazines, but showcasing a house of a notorious monster probably wouldn’t be good for business for Better Homes and Gardens.

“Last stop.” The blonde next to you says as she puts the car in park, reminding you she was still very much around.

“Any last requests?” You look at her with your eyebrows raised in question.

“You got jokes, huh?” She cocks her head.

“I’ll be here all week, too bad you won’t.” The woman rolls her eyes and exits the car, while you smirk and watch her every move.

The mansion was heavily guarded and you began to count the men in place, just in case you needed to make a hasty exit. There were two at the gate, two guarding the front door, three men were positioned on the actual grounds, and two more near the garage. Nine total. Possibly ten if someone’s out of view. They were all placed strategically, keeping unwanted visitors out, and making sure others didn’t escape. Well played, Grant. Well played.

You’re startled when the passenger door opens, and a hand is held out to you. It’s big a calloused, and from the scar running across the palm, you immediately know who the owner said hand belongs to. “Clint!” You placed your hand in his and he pulls you out and wraps you into a bear hug.

“Baby girl! I’ve missed you!” He grabs you tight and lifts you off the ground.

“I’ve missed you too!” You muffled into his neck.

Clint places you back on the ground and looks you over. “You look…hungry!”

You laugh at the blond knowing he’s just joking with you. “I’m fine, really. I’m good.” He smiles at you and pulls you in for another hug.

“Why didn’t you write me?” Clint looks hurt from the lack of contact.

“Couldn’t…you know that.” You say as you pull away from him again. Clint was still part of Grant’s mob. You couldn’t have any connections to him.

“Barnes told me what you did-wouldn’t let him bring you back. Why Y/N? This is your home!” If only it were that simple, this could’ve be your home.

“I shouldn’t be here right now anyway. I’m risking parole for this, but according to the blonde bimbo…,” you point in the direction of the woman waiting for you on the stairs, “I’m not expected to leave here alive.”

Clint gives you a surprised look and his eyes move towards the woman with a scowl. “What the fuck-I swear-I…”

“It’s ok, Clint. He never shows his hand before all the cards are dealt. I’ve been alive seven years too long anyway.” Your tone is all matter of fact.

Clint just nods his head in acceptance and leans in placing a kiss to your cheek. “For good luck.” You feel a dip in the pocket of your jacket, and Clint wraps his arms around you once more, giving you time to adjust.

“Thank you.” You whisper and head to the stairs to follow the woman who brought you here.

Walking inside, the halls were clear except for one person. “Y/N.” The man greets you.

“Barnes.” He smirks and goes to hug you but you stop him before he could, “I’ve been told I’m here to die, so let’s skip the mushy stuff.” His look copies the one Clint gave you and you knew Grant was playing this close to the chest if neither these two knew, and they knew everything.

“Who told you that?” Barnes questions, placing his hands on his hips. You nod your head at the woman in front of you and he just shakes his head.

“Grant’s bottom bitch. She don’t know shit!” The woman scoffs and you just laugh.

“Bottom bitch or not, I promised her she wouldn’t live past tonight. I intend to keep that promise.” You wink at him and he gives you a toothy grin.

“Atta girl!” Barnes now moves in and you feel something else tug at your pocket when he wraps his arms around you. “You got this.” Barnes moves away letting you proceed on to the office where the mob boss is waiting.

The woman knocks on the door, and waits for a response before opening it and entering. “I brought her, just like you said” You walk in and see the man staring out the same window he was looking at the last time you were in this office.

Grant turns around to face you, and you can see he hasn’t changed in seven years. His eyes are still blue, the beard remains, even his physique is the same. Steven Grant Rogers is perfect in every way. Too bad you’d have to kill him before he could kill you. This world was savage…you’d never be shown any leniency.

“Y/N.” Grant’s voice still as deep and beautiful as ever. “It’s so nice of you to join us.” His tone is flat and unchanging. He wasn’t known for his variance. “I thought you didn’t care.” Grant’s eyes are baring into your soul.

“I don’t, but someone keeps sending people my way. Thought I should come here and make you understand…I want fuck all to do with you.”

Grant nods his head in understanding, “Yes, I think you’ve said that before, perhaps other words were used?” He walks over to his desk and takes a seat in the chair, and you just watch his every move. “Don’t.” The mob boss says, knowing exactly what you’re up to. “I know what your doing. Let me save you the trouble. There are nine men on the property, two in here besides you, eight steps from where you are to the window and six to my desk. Did I miss anything?” Grant asks, barely raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, eleven men. Barnes and Barton…they’re here as well.” There’s a hint of arrogance in your tone at having slightly one uping the man.

“They are. So you’re heavily out manned. I wouldn’t try anything just yet.” He reaches down to one of his drawers, pulling out an item and placing it on the desk.

“Well isn’t that nice.” Sarcasm erupts from your voice, recognizing what is what he placed on his desk in your view.

“You think so? This happens to be my most prized possession.” Steve smirks at you.

“Oh, you mean Barbie here isn’t?” You point to the blonde, who is standing very close to the boss, almost like she thinks she belongs there.

“She has a name!” The blonde raises her voice at you, finally letting some of her anger show.

“Calm down. Y/N is aware you have a name. She just doesn’t care.” Her face scrunches up in anger, and you give her a wide grin and nod in confirmation of his words.

“Shall we get down to business? Have a seat.” Grant points to the chair across from his desk and you shake your head.

“I’d rather stand.” You move closer to his desk and closer to the object he placed there.

“It comes with a price.” Grant caught you gazing down on it.

“Everything always does with you.”

“I have questions, and I demand answers. You chose not to answer them, your death will come even quicker than I’ve already decided upon. Understand?” Grant sits back in his chair and places his arms across his chest. Under different circumstances, you might think this was sexy, but with death hanging over your head you see it as an act of dominance. Showing you he’s still very much in charge.

“Why did you betray me?” Grant starts out, getting straight to the point.

“I never betrayed you, Steve! I quit. Big difference.” The man flinches just a little when you say his name, getting the response you were hoping for.

“You went to work for Stark. That’s betrayal.” He begins fidgeting with the rings on his left hand, evidence you’ve gotten slightly under his skin.

“You’re welcome by the way! I went to work for Stark, and killed him in three weeks. Not even Nat was able to get that close!” The man is glaring at you. His expressions don’t change, but you know he’s glaring. His breathing is giving him away. “I did you a favor, killing Stark. A favor that cost me seven years of my life I can’t get back, but admitting to the crime and being behind bars was better than waiting for you to come claim my head. So again, you’re welcome.”

The man sits as stoic as ever, not giving anything away. He’s still playing with the rings on his fingers, and you realize you’ve missed his fingers all over your body. “I didn’t need you to kill Stark,” Grant leans forward and puts his arms on his desk, “it would have happened eventually. I told you to stay away. I gave you orders and you disobeyed them. Then, you went behind my back and made a deal with Stark for employment. No matter what the end result, you still betrayed me. I can’t forgive that.”

You nod in understanding. This would be your final stop. Grant wouldn’t let you leave his mansion alive, he’d never get over what you had done. Even if it did hand him the area Stark had claimed. You took matters into your own hand because you hated being sidelined. It was that need to be part of the action that would be your demise. It was about to cost you your life.

“Before you go, there is something you should know.” Grant gets into another drawer and pulls out a small box placing it on the desk next to his self proclaimed prized possession. The blonde behind him takes in a surprised breath at the sight of it, but again, the man pays it no mind.

“Do you know what this is?” He’s looking up at you, blue eyes piercing your soul. “This was to be yours.” Grant picks up the box and opens it, showing you a very large, very expensive diamond ring. “I was ready to share my empire with you by my side. Not as my employee, but as my wife.”

You inhale a deep breath at his words. The man was confessing his feelings, something you thought he was completely void of. “Do you know what it was like to watch you storm into my office and tell me you were leaving? To hear you say you were done with me? You killed me that day you stabbed your knife into my desk. I’m not sure if I could ever forgive you for that.” The woman standing near him swallowed hard, having realized she’d never have his love.

“Poor Steve.” The sarcasm quick to flow from your mouth, and for the first time, his look changes. A scowl has taken up residence on his face from your choice of words.

“I gave you everything I had…killed for you…laid the city of Brooklyn at your feet, and it meant nothing.” You growl at him, a burning rage growing inside. “Don’t you fucking dare sit there in your chair and taunt me with your bullshit! If you really wanted me for your wife, none of this would’ve happened. You could have stopped this! You were the one that let me walk out that door…and you show your devotion to me by putting out a hit on my life. That’s how Steven Grant Rogers shows just how much he cares. That’s how you roll.”

Steve lets out a huff and nods his head at you. “Perhaps you’re right.” He stands up from his chair and walks in front of his desk, closing the distance between you. “Maybe I did let you go, but Stark wasn’t the answer. You may have had good intentions, but you stabbed me in the back by joining his side. There’s nothing you could do to redeem yourself from that.”

“No…,” your eyes move to his desk, “I stabbed your desk and not your back, with that. Your most coveted possession, isn’t that what you called it? My parting gift to you.” You smirk at him, knowing that was also a very risky move. Steve was too close for comfort, and he was hell bent on killing you.

Steve leans over and picks up the knife, looking it over and watching the light hit the blade. “This..,” he points it in your direction making you inhale a quick, sharp breath that could be your last, “is a tool of passion.” The mob boss smiles at you, which solidifies his intent towards you. No one that’s ever seen him smile has lived to tell about it. He’s going to take your life with your own blade. How very macabre.

“You’ve killed many people with your guns, but this knife…has only been reserved for a small few.” He walks forward, making you backup all the way to the wall; Steve presses the knife to your throat. He was such an arrogant son of a bitch, you can’t believe you gave him so much of yourself to him.

“I loved you…,” Steve is hovering over you, knife planted firmly against your throat, the cool blade pressing into your skin, “you were the only one I ever loved. I can’t forgive you, and I can’t let you live either.” Steve lowers his head and his lips crash into yours, kissing you fiercely and stealing your breath from your lungs.

This was his final act; the knife, the kiss, his words. The end had finally come for you…but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t go out with a bang, right? You’d come too far to let it end like this.

The knife may have been at your throat, but Steve wasn’t aware of what was in your pocket. Your hand moves to your jacket, pulling out the small blade, and forcing it into his side; stabbing the man holding you hostage with your knife and watching his grip on it loosen, dropping to the ground.

Steve backs off you, his hand going immediately to his side and you bend down picking it up, and throwing it across the room; hitting its intended target straight in the abdomen, the woman falls to her knees blood running from the wound. There’s no hesitation, and without a second thought you move over to her, grabbing the gun from her side, “Should’ve stuck to modeling, Sharon.” You reach out and grab your knife from her bleeding stomach, making her groan at the loss.

Your next motion is one you’ve done time and time again…you make to stand behind her, raising the knife to her throat. “Say hi to your uncle for me, bitch!” And with one fluid movement…you slice it open wide with precision, ice flowing through your veins. It takes a mere seconds, but her lifeless body falls to the ground, blood pooling on the floor in front of her.

Steve looks over at you, his own wound bleeding out, but you know it’s not enough to kill him…that wasn’t your intent anyway.

“You get that out of your system?” He pants out from the pain in his side.

“I hated her face. Besides, she wasn’t the type of woman to have by your side.”

He shakes his head with a smirk. “No…she wasn’t.” Steve throws a smile in your direction.

You walk over to his desk and open up the drawer, taking out the first aid kit and setting it on top. Steve stares at you but doesn’t come any closer, a war going on in his head. You roll your eyes at him, and fuck all his stubbornness and idiotic pride. “You planning on bleeding all over the place or you gonna bring your stupid ass over here and let me patch it up?” You raise your eyebrow, waiting for him to make his move.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” He walks over to you, a wicked grin on his face.

“Seriously?!” You exclaim loudly throwing your hands up in the air. “You’re the goddamn idiot that let Stark’s niece into your home and let them infiltrate this place, and waited seven years to finish the task! I should’ve let her finish her mission, let them take everything over!” Steve shakes his head and walks to the desk, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the ground.

“Anyone else left?” Steve flinches as the alcohol hits his skin, cleaning the wound you inflicted.

“Barnes killed Rhodes two days ago, he was the one she was feeding all the info to…and Nat has neutralized Banner. The rest of Stark’s followers have all been eliminated.” The mob boss winces when you touch the wound with the needle, quickly placing stitches in his side.

“Thank you.” Steve whispers, and you raise your eyes to meet his.

“You’re not welcome.” There’s a smile on your face as you look back down to the wound.

“I called off the hit, you know?” Steve’s tone is soft, something not normal for him.

“Oh, yeah…,” you keep your eyes glued to the task at hand, “when?” Last you knew it was still very much in place. Part of the game you played to flush out the rest of Stark’s mob.

“Today. I had too, you know that, right? I couldn’t let anyone know.”

You snipped the stitch, and looked up at Steve, standing eye level with the mob boss. “Seven years Steve! You let me sit there for seven years, and I got a goddamned-“ The rant was cut off by the sensation of his lips on yours, your body melting into the kiss. It’s been way too long since you’ve felt him touch you, and by god, you never wanted to be without him again.

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispers once he breaks the kiss, both of you panting hard from the intensity you poured into your reunion. “I didn’t have a choice. You made things fucking difficult, and I do recall telling you stealth was key!”

“I tried!” You yell, “How the fuck was I supposed to know about his little newbie recruit? Little asshole almost ruined everything! I’m more pissed off about his niece. Did you fuck her, Steve?!” He goes stoic and you immediately scowl back at him. “You did! I can’t fucking believe you?!”

“What was I supposed to do?! Not touch her? She would’ve known I was on to her!” The man hardheartedly defended his actions.

“Un-fucking-believable! I should’ve stabbed you deeper!” You slap him on the wound you just finished bandaging and he lets out a howl.

“Stop! You know I only have eyes for you!”

“No!” You shook your head, “I hate you!” You pout and Steve smiles at your childlike behavior.

“Aww, don’t be mad…she meant nothing. I promise…besides, I’ve got all the woman I need right here.” The door opens and you look to see Barnes walk into the room, looking over at the body on the ground.

“Was that before or after you found out he fucked her?” Bucky asks innocently, not knowing the two of you were just discussing that very subject.

A look of horror appears on your face and Steve winces and covers his own face with his hand. “Fuck, Bucky! Could you have not told her you knew?” Steve shakes his head and Bucky laughs.

“Should’ve kept it in your pants, Grant!” Your friend shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes at his boss. “So what now?” Bucky looks to you and your eyes look over at Steve.

“Get rid of the body, handle it just like the others.” You ordered the man, and he nods accepting your command and turns to leave.

“Oh…,” he stops at the door and turns back to you, “check your other pocket!” Bucky smiles and exits the room, and you remember him sticking something in there earlier on the walk to Steve’s office.

You reach in and pull out the box, exactly the same size as the one already on Steve’s desk. You open it up, and see any smaller ring, not as big and flashy as the one he showed you previously. “This one is more your style.” Steve says, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

“You sure?” You question, holding it up and taking in it’s beauty, This was as close to a proposal as Steve would ever get

He chuckles and nods his head. “Yeah. It’s been long overdue.” Steve leans in to kiss you, but winces in pain from the wound.

“You stabbed me pretty good!” He comments, placing his hand on the bandage.

“Good! Remember that the next time you need to get your dick wet! Also…something else you better keep in mind…I run this city. I’m the one giving the orders.” It’s not a request, but a demand.

Steve smirks at you pulling you closer to his body. “Of course Mrs. Rogers. I’ll give you Brooklyn as a wedding present …I have my sights set on Manhattan next!”

Forever Tags:

@caplansteverogers, @the-real-kellymonster @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @kruscht @v-2bucky @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @amandarosemire @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @winters-beauty @scarlettsoldier @everythingeverywherelistening @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @suz-123 @patzammit @malfoysqueen14 @callmebucky-doll @readitandweepfics @prettyyoungtragedy @ronnie248-blog @alyssaj23 @drakelover78 @thisismysecrethappyplace @geeksareunique @childishhoebinoo @thesassmisstress @bloodiedskirtts @brieannakeogh

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steven grant rogers #mob boss steve rogers #mob au #mob fic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes #james barnes #clint barton #marvel #marvel au #marvel characters #crossed lines follow up #grant rogers

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lets-get-fictional · 7 years

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Hi! I have a few questions haha so I ll put them separately! 1. When you have characters that more quiet/reserved, but they aren't shy, how would you portray this? How would you portray a confident person who speaks little? How would they instead show their anger/resentments/amusement/love? Alternatively, how would this change if a character was quiet and not very comfortable in themselves?

2. What are good ways to hint at past abuse (physical/sexual/mental) without explicitly saying it? How would you imply that a particular person was responsible? How would show the way it has affected the individual/s? 3. How would you reveal/lead up to your character/s secrets? With the big secrets, how could you effectively foreshadow it without giving it away until you want to, but it still makes sense? Sorry this is super long! But thank you for your help!

Thank you for your questions!! I promise it wasn’t too long, this ask was a lot of fun to answer, and you posed some really great questions. I hope this helps!!

BIG POST OF CHARACTERIZATION

Quiet Characters - Shyness vs. Introversion

Something to note about introversion and its portrayal: it depends on whether or not you’re writing a viewpoint character. A lot of times, other characters will VIEW them as shy, until there’s a defining moment where everyone realizes they’re not shy, they just keep to themselves. Perhaps they provide commentary on things every so often, not afraid to show their opinion when it counts. However, this isn’t always the case. There are other instances where a character is quiet/speaks very little, but is also clearly not shy

A confident person who speaks little strikes me as the kind of person who only speaks when they feel they have something important to say/contribute. Which means that everything they do say holds greater weight than someone who talks constantly. There is a certain bluntness to this - therefore they are not insecure, or nervous about what they’re saying, they’re just a person of few words - they choose their words carefully.

Ex. Luna Lovegood of Harry Potter

It’s made rather explicit that Luna is not shy. She is not ashamed of who she is, even though we know she’s often made fun of by other students. She speaks rather little - when she is featured with the other characters, I would say that Luna is more often than not a listener. However, Luna does not hesitate to provide her opinion/knowledge when she deems it necessary. Example, in The Deathly Hallows (focusing on the films, so Part 2), she is not at all shy or skittish about telling Harry what information she knows to help him defeat Voldemort, even though Harry is distracted and at first unwilling to listen.

Ex. Aizawa Shouta (aka him who i love) of My Hero Academia

Aizawa is a classic example of being a “man of few words.” He is not a talkative person in the slightest, and he can seem even gloomy in comparison to more animated people. But one of the best examples of his confidence comes through when he’s shown speaking to other Pro Heroes about the problems they’re beginning to face. He does not hesitate to give his opinion, is not shy about it, and when he does state his stance, he stands firm, caring very little what anybody else might think. So while he clearly keeps to himself, he still makes his opinions known when necessary, making it clear that he’s not keeping to himself out of insecurity. He just prefers it that way.

Zero from Holes

I didn’t need this many examples, but I love Holes, it’s fine. So, Zero…is not shy. Did he or did he not punch somebody in the crotch? Ya’ll. He is teased relentlessly by the other boys in the camp - and he responds with pure silence. We may interpret this to be shyness early on, but as the story progresses it is clear that he’s not shy. He just doesn’t have time to mess around with people who want to call him names anyway. He’s got bigger fish to fry. So he ignores them. He is quiet not because he’s afraid to talk - but because he doesn’t want to.

What to take from all of this? If you have a character who is quiet, but confident as well, then have them make their opinions known when they feel it is necessary. They won’t be talkative, but they also won’t shy away when they feel that something important needs to be said.

Shyness in Characters

First off, I want to direct you to a great post that we have here that talks about insecurity in characters and how that can be portrayed, which I feel would be relevant. But, I do want to add on to what that post says here.

A shy character is totally different from the confident-but-quiet characters discussed above. Shyness is sprung from insecurity, the fear of saying something wrong, or being judged, etc. A shy character is going to actively avoid conversations with new people, and with people who make them uncomfortable. And when forced into said situations, they will not speak as openly as they do with friends, and will often come off as awkward or stilted, speaking very little, and often not about themselves.

Ex. Gus from Recess. Out of the five heroes of this story, Gus was probably the least down with social interaction (even though Spinelli was always ready to throw down with somebody). Whenever things get tough on the playground, he always lets his more bold friends take the reins to steer the situation, preferring to stay in the background.

Characters as Victims of Abuse

First off, I think it would depend on the type of abuse. Sometimes when people have such a traumatic experience, they don’t deal with/process the subsequent emotions, thus when they experience something later on that reminds them of the abuse, they can be triggered back into the emotions of the time.

Was this physical abuse? Perhaps they have both a physical and emotional reaction if someone attempts to come at them/hit them/etc, even if it’s supposedly a playful situation.

Emotional abuse? Someone talking down to them, name calling, being controlling etc. would probably provoke some strong emotional backlash. But also, it’s highly likely that victims of emotional abuse may retain a sense of low self-esteem/self-worth. They may talk down to themselves a lot, whether out loud or just in their internal monologue. Also, in some cases, it is possible that those who are victims of abuse can later become abusers, often as a way of trying to regain the power that was lost during the time of abuse.

HOWEVER, when dealing with all of this, it is very important that you research in depth the true effects of these experiences, even going so far as to try to talk to people who have experienced this personally. It is often a delicate subject, and should be handled with care and respect.

Now, implying that a certain person was responsible would depend on that character’s current role in the story. If they aren’t present in the current storyline, perhaps you can hint to a person from their past that they either refuse to talk about, or only speak of very negatively. Or maybe, they still harbor feelings for this person - it is possible to still care for your abuser, whether this is healthy or not. It is even further possible that the experience was traumatic enough for them to block out those more awful moments, or even attempted to explain this abuse away to themselves as their abusers way of showing love, thus they still hold affection for them, even if they are not a part of their life anymore.

If the abuser character is still in the picture, you would have a lot on your hands. Do the characters interact at all? This is dependent upon how your character feels about their abuser at this time, and what happened. Are they able to be in the same room with them without breaking down, or lashing out? Are they able to defend themselves from this person now, or are they still vulnerable to their abuse? Or do they refuse to associate with this person at all? Is this a revenge story - are they seeking revenge on their abuser? What do they want from their abuser? To be left alone, or to find some sort of closure?

So I’m going to handle this in two ways. The abuser being a present character in the narrative, and the abuser existing primarily as a figure in your characters’ past.

If your character still interacts with the abuser in the narrative, they should act in such a way that would hint at this past relationship. There will most likely be a sense of tension, but a lot of it is very dependent upon the individual personalities of your characters.

If the abuser exists as a distant figure in your character’s past, and you’re trying to keep it a secret, then your character would most likely avoid talking about this person, would skimp on the details about them in conversation. And the way they talk about them will probably have some tension to it, as well as leftover emotions, whether that be anger, sadness, etc.

Secrets, Scandals, and Hidden Things

Character’s secrets, alright, this is FUN. This is gonna be fun. So, when you’re dealing with characters secrets, there’s a lot of playing around with foreshadowing. The big thing about having secrets and revealing secrets is that you have to balance the information and the clues to the reader, so that when the big secret is revealed, the reader feels like they should have known the answer all along. You have to lay enough clues for it to make sense, but also direct attention away from what the real clues are to keep the tension and the secrecy, so that your big reveal is a Big Reveal. Thus, the power of misdirection. Capisce?

I’m gonna use the example of Wreck it Ralph and hope that nobody gets mad at me. [But I think it’s been enough time since the movie came out that anybody who would get genuinely pissed about Wreck it Ralph spoilers would have already seen the movie].

Alright - so the big ordeal in Wreck It Ralph, the big Oh Shit moment is that King Candy is actually Turbo. I’m gonna go through Wreck it Ralph, highlighting the more important scenes that lead up with this, to deconstruct the foreshadowing, and show you why it works. But here’s the big thing I want you to take away from this - secrets are all about the buildup.

“Goin’ Turbo”

So, in the Wreck It Ralph verse, it is made clear to the audience early on that a colloquial term commonly used to describe a game character trying to join another game is “going Turbo,” yes? Because it’s used so naturally, and it fits the atmosphere of the show, the arcade slang sort of feel, the audience is able to accept it without too much question, except maybe to wonder where the phrase originated. The phrase is explicitly used when Ralph himself goes off to find a metal, and the figures of his own game start freaking out because Ralph was “going Turbo.” This is the first big clue that is repeatedly laid for the audience.

The Introduction of King Candy

It is clear to us very early on that King Candy is, well…very particular about how things run in his game. And well, we kind of expect this - he is the King, after all. But his storyline and motivations are clearly tied to the heroine Vanellope’s as well, which is made clear very soon after we’re introduced to him. He refers to her as “The Glitch,” rather than calling her by name, and is adamant that she should not be allowed to race in the game. Now at this point, it is clear to the viewer that Vanellope is one of the characters we are supposed to be rooting for, and the fact that King Candy is clearly opposed to her achieving her goals as a main protagonist, he is now an antagonist - no surprise.

The Turbo Story

It isn’t until after we meet King Candy that we hear the origin of the phrase “Going Turbo” and what it means. Essentially, the phrase originated when the protagonist of a racing game that was at one time very popular got pushed to the side in favor of a new, high-tech game. Not to be defeated, Turbo abandoned his game and tried to take over the new one, thus coining the phrase. We as the audience are told that in consequence, both Turbo’s original game and the game he tried to take over got put out of commission, including himself. HERE IS THE KICKER: we as the audience are given a considerable amount of information necessary to put together that Turbo just might equal King Candy, BUT we are led to believe that this isn’t a possibility because Turbo “got himself put out of order for good.”

King Candy and his Dark Side

Now, this is a big scene in terms of King Candy’s storyline/backstory/relationship to Vanellope: the scene in which he ventures “into the code,” and adds the gold medal to his own personal cache of codes, so that he can take ownership of it. It’s a subtle play, because we as the audience are shown that King Candy’s code “box” (if you will) is at the biggest, and is at the center of everything. Because he’s the king, right? And at the end of the scene, we have a wide shot of the scene to reveal Vanellope’s code box, and it’s floating off the side, not connected to any of the boxes. Because she’s not supposed to be in the game, right? Because she’s a glitch, right? Huh.

The second half of this section deals with the scene in which King Candy goes to Ralph personally, and pleads with him to convince Vanellope not to race. He tells Ralph that if she does race, and if she wins, then she’ll be accessible by the actual human players of the game. In such case, if they see her “glitching”, they’ll thing the game is broken, and get it put out of order. Right? Once again, we have misdirection. I’m sure at this point, the audience doesn’t fully trust what King Candy is saying, but at the same time there is an emotional reaction to his words. Because we care about Vanellope and want her to succeed, it forces the audience to feel that emotional push-and-pull, distracting further from the fact that King Candy (spoiler alert) lied clean to everyone’s faces.

THE REVEAL

In a moment of high intensity, when we’ve reached the big climactic moment that is The Race, which is what Vanellope has been trying to get to for the entire film, it is revealed that King Candy is Turbo, done so because he gets caught up in Vanellope’s glitching, causing him to revert back to his originally coded form. We then learn of his true motivation - he wants to remain the top racer, as he was in his previous game, and he wants to maintain the power and thrill of that popularity. So he usurped Vanellope and changed the code so that everyone believed that she wasn’t supposed to exist, and that he was the rightful ruler of the game.

Why does it work?

It works because of the build up. All of the hints were laid out; Turbo’s backstory was set up early enough that it felt natural for the audience, and it gave us enough time to get comfortable with the information; when the scene did finally unfold, it felt so obvious that you could look back and see all the pieces click. And in the reveal, all of King Candy’s previously creepy behavior makes sense. There is emotional payoff.

What to take from this?

One of the most powerful ways to hide your hints and foreshadowing throughout your story is misdirection. Lay those hints, plant the seeds, but also do the work to direct the audience’s attention elsewhere, leading them to believe one thing, whilst building towards another.

Phew!! That was a doozy of a post, but it was a lot of fun to write, and I hope this was super helpful to you!!

If you have any further questions, don’t hesitate to shoot us an ask. In the meantime, happy writing!

- Mod Daenerys

If you need advice on general writing or fanfiction, you should maybe ask us!

#writing #writeblr #writing blog #writing tips #writing advice #my post #ask #princessofthepai #mod daenerys #characters #foreshadowing #backstory #plot twist #protagonists #antagonists

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fuyuhikoismybabygansta · 6 years

Note

uhh how abt sdr2 girls realising theyre in love? im a sucker for fluff

This took me so long to do I’m so sorry x_x I hope this is fluffy enough for you, I tend to be bad at fluff smh

Edit: I freakin hate tumblr sometimes.

-Mod Nagito

Chiaki

At first she didn’t think much about it.

She would often find herself playing more co-op games than usual, asking them to play with her.

She also found herself often choosing characters in dating sims that were similar in some ways to them.

When she realised her feeling for them, she started to get much more shy in their presence.

They would somewhat become her go-to-reference to help her with her dating sims of course since she chose the character the most like them

And she would probably use the games as references for how to ask someone out.

To be frank I don’t think she’d be the one confessing, so her s/o better man (or woman) up and tell her at some point.

She’s a bit too shy for pda, but she’d love to cuddle with her s/o in private.

Especially when she’s playing, she loves to place et head on their laps.

They better be prepared for a lot of multiplayer because she is going to insist on playing with them.

She’d also often maternize them in some way, always having this strong need to protect them somehow.

Hiyoko

Hiyoko would never admit it, even to her own self.

She’d rather keep being her little tsundere self than to show love and affection to someone.

She’ll clearly need Mahiru’s help with this.

And even then, she wouldn’t be the one to confess first.

Heck, she’d probably get even more tsundere with them.

She would make a point to point out every single one of their flaws.

Of course, when they finally decide to take the first step and confess to her, her answer is something along the lines of “I’m only saying yes to going out with you because I pity you and your loneliness.”

Mahiru would be her “relationship counselor” at full time.

She wouldn’t be much someone for pda and things like that so except Mahiru, no one else will know about her relation with s/o for a very long time.

She’d be more affectionate in private.

They’d be amongst the only ones to see her softer side.

S/o would have to be the first one to take many steps because that’s just how Hiyoko is.

Mahiru

That girl.

She would rather die than admit it.

Of course she is really well aware of her feelings, but being the tsundere she is…

Her (future) s/o better be ready for some passive-aggressivity and cold glare.

Especially if their a boy.

Somehow she’s even harsher with them than with the others.

Though she easily becomes a blushing mess if they’re flirty in any way.

She would find herself often wanting to take pictures of them, especially of their smile.

And no matter how “bad” the picture might be compared to the others, she somehow could never bring herself to delete it.

Of course she would never be the one to confess if it’s a boy, because that’s the boy’s job in a couple.

But if S/o is a girl, then she somewhat will muster enough courage to ask her out if the girl didn’t make any move before.

Of course when they start to go out together, Hiyoko would hate them for stealing her best friend away.

She would get really verbally aggressive with them and have a hard time accepting to share Mahiru.

But when she sees how happy they make her friend, she would calm down and somewhat open up to them a bit.

She would still be a little brat with them most of the time, but she would somehow have toned it down a notch.

But if they dare hurt Mahiru… they’re a goner for sure.

Akane

At first Akane would be confused.

She’s just not really used to loving someone all that much.

She has no idea what to do with that information.

She’d often found herself blushing when they complimented her and such, finding herself more willing to share with them.

Even food, which surprised everyone.

I feel like she wouldn’t be able to fight if they were present, as she would be too preoccupied by them.

Of course she’s going to try to spend as much time as possible with them.

The day she confessed, well it was unprepared and incredibly messy, but somehow really cute to see, as she was redder than a tomato.

Once they start going out, they’d better be prepared for pda because she’s one hell of an affectionate girlfriend.

She friggin loves PDA and will take any chance she have to glomps her s/o.

Anyone that even vaguely seems to hurt or threaten S/o is in trouble, since this hot head won’t hesitate to beat anyone up if they even think of hurting her lover.

Peko

At first, Peko thought it was something similar to what she felt for Fuyuhiko.

Except she quickly realised it was much, much more powerful than that.

Fuyuhiko would notice her love for C/n in no time, as she tried her best not to appear to menacing to them.

I feel like he would tease her a lot about that.

If her (future) s/o doesn’t confess first, at some point she probably would.

But it would be really, really formal.

Of course, Fuyuhiko is probably going to give them The Talk™.

“If you do anything to hurt her…”

Even if the chances of them hurting Peko are very, very low, I feel like he’d have this rather protective attitude towards her.

She would be new to giving affection to someone so her now s/o would have to be patient with her about these kinds of things since she’ll probably be really awkward about it at first.

They’d have to take the lead on many things, not because she’s shy or anything, well she also is a bit but that’s not the main problem here, but because she doesn’t know how those things works.

She gets all flustered each time and it’s really cute to see.

They probably spent a lot of time explaining her that she was no tool for anyone to use.

Sonia

Sonia is no innocent girl so of course she’s quick to realise her feelings for her (future) s/o.

She’s a very, very romantic girl, so of course she’S gonna spend a lot of time imagining how the two of them would be as a couple, how would her parent’s react, how would theirs do, how would they propose, how would be the marriage, how many kids they’d have, how would they look like, how they would name them,…

She is totally going to go on those websites where you write the names of two person and look at the percentages of love between the two of them.

Whenever the percentage is too low, she simply dismiss it saying the website is mistaken.

She will also check if their zodiac signs matches and squeals if they do.

She’s just like an enamoured school-girl in those shojo mangas and animes.

She will want the confession to be perfect, as romantic as possible, just like in those romance films she loves oh so much.

If it’s a boy, she will wait for him to make the first move, after all, that’s how it’s supposed to go, but if not, she’d ultimately make it.

From the moment they start dating she’s super excited and overjoyed.

Of course she would have a lot of strange views on life as a couple coming from her kingdom, but they would get use to it rapidly probably

She’s a real sweetheart, but they’d better be ready for her occult collection and she will drag them into her occult shenanigans.

And in all honesty, they probably find all those weird obsessions of hers really cute.

Ibuki

I am completely and utterly convinced that as soon as she realise she’s in love with someone this someone knows it.

Heck, everyone knows.

She’s just so excited when she sees them, even more than she usually is.

But as soon as they start giving her some attention, she quiets down, blushing furiously and struggling to align two words.

So unless they really are oblivious, they will probably notice in no time that she’s in love with them.

Unless they confess first, it will take her a lot, and I mean, a lot of time to do it herself.

I feel like she’d confess with a love letter, like in movies, just, handing the note to them and running away, to flustered to stay to see their reaction.

When S/o accepts it, she’s the happiest girl on Earth.

Jumping around, smiling, being her usual excited self, except ten times more energetic.

Ibuki seems to me as someone that would be very much willing for pda, so her s/o better be ready for that.

And she will try to get them to form a band with her for sure, no matter how bad of a musician they might be.

Sure, sometimes she would be rather exhausting to be with, since she would probably drag them around in her shenanigans, often not telling them where they’re going to keep it a surprise and then forgetting, leaving the two of them to just, stand around, wondering what the fuck they were supposed to do.

Mikan

From the moment she realise she’s in love, Mikan gets even more flustered and shy around them.

She goes full “overprotective mom” on them and constantly asks if everything is alright.

Sure she likes it when they come to ask for her help, she feels more valued, but she still hates it because it most likely means they hurt themselves.

She would rather die than make the first move.

Not because she doesn’t want to, but because she would die of embarrassment.

Once they get in relationship, S/o often have to remind her to set some boundaries, that people can’t be allowed to do whatever they want to her.

They also probably spend a lot of time defending her from Hiyoko.

At some point they got so mad it scared her and she stopped bullying the nurse.

Any pda would make Mikan blush madly, in fact, same can be said for any mark of affection, even in private.

They spend a lot of time comforting her since she always worry she’ll offend people.

S/o is such a sweetheart with her it’s really cute to see.

They’re always doing their best not to get mad at her or in front of her in general since it makes her nervous.

Whenever she starts panicking, they’re always right there for her.

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quincette · 7 years

Text

Kojuro and Wisteria

A spoiler post of Kojuro's Sequel story

So I finished Kojuro's second act story in 3 days and have since rereading the screenshots hahhahahahahah. I chose the fate/noble ending because I want to read his point of view ...

Boy it was so good! I mean I could be biased (SCRATCH THAT I AM INCREDIBLY BIASED WHEN IT COMES TO THIS MAN) and I do have minor quips about it but I enjoyed it sooooo much!

I’ve squeed about Hideyoshi and how much this story improve his rank in my fave list (lol, lol, lol), you can see them here.

Okay, so.

One of the important character is Kojuro story is a plant, lol.

More specifically, Wisteria, which intertwines (ha) closely with the plot.

And I’m gonna tell my journey reading his story by following up this plant, lol.

More squealing after the break and it is full of spoilers, you've been warned!

Also, anon hater(s). I do not post summaries or spoilers because I want to spoil the experience for everybody - it’s because I want to share MY journey (yes, the key word is my ME, this blog is mainly about me, surprise surprise) in this game, the same reason I started posting SLBP stuff on this blog ever since I started playing early last year (you know, BEFORE you knew of this game because you didn’t start sending me this kind of hate till recently). Get off your high horse or ride away to the sunset, look for your own happiness!

Okay, so what I love about Kojuro’s Second Act is it has got a continuity with his first act. What I don’t love so much is in some aspect, it kind feels repetitive - like, haven’t Kojuro and MC go down this road before - why hasn’t they learn anything - I mean romance tropes work for a reason but we got bored with the same formula, Voltage, try twist things up more cleverly!

But that being said I LOVE IT that the drama doesn’t feel contrived and it stemmed from an actual historical event and everything MAKES SENSE *casually side-eyeing Nobu’s Second Act Divine Ending*.

At the start of the story when they were about to move to Shiroishi they were enjoying the wisteria at Yonezawa. Kojuro remarked that when the wisteria blooms again next year, Oshu will be a better and more peaceful place.

At this point, MC has two choices to respond (lol).

A. she would enjoy wisteria viewing with Kojuro anywhere.

B. She would like to plant wisteria in Shiroishi castle too.

(choose A if you want the points)

When they moved to Shiroishi, Kojuro took a pot of wisteria with them - this wisteria is cut from the wisteria tree in Yonezawa, with the intent to plant it in Shiroishi. So the two castle will be related, geddit??? AWWWWWWW.

In the aftermath of Soma-Hideyoshi’s multiple attacks on Kozakura and Shiroishi, Kojuro holed himself in his study for days. One night MC was awakened from her sleep by the sound of him entering their chambers (they were married at this point).

Kojuro apologises for waking her up. Upon this, MC has two choices to respond:

A) You should get some rest, Milord.

B) Shall we sleep together?

(Choose A if you want the points because Voltage just loves to punish ‘selfish’ (and thirsty) MCs. I CHOSE B OF COURSE EVEN WHEN I KNEW IT TO BE WRONG FROM VOLTAGE STANDARD (and Kojuro responded with “As tempting as that may sound, my Precious Girl, we need to talk). Also, it could very well have been an innocent offer, like we can just share some sleep, can’t we??? Whose head’s in the gutter now, Voltage?)

After a brief fluffy moment Kojuro asked her to go to Kyoto, because it was not safe for her to be there and he had his plate full of defending the Date clan and that he was needed in Yonezawa, he couldn’t leave her alone undefended in Shiroishi.

(Okay but I yelled this at this point, like MC, you knew something is going on with your hubby!!! KOJURO WHY JUST STASH HER IN YONEZAWA OR SOMETHING! ALSO SCREW YOU SHE IS CAPABLE OF BEING THE LADY OF THE CASTLE)

He tousled her hair and remarked that it has grown (this is following Kojuro’s first act so here MC’s hair was shorter because her hair’d been cut off by Satake Yoshishige when he held her hostage - LOVE THIS CONTINUITY)

MC could see something was not quite right and told him that she’d be happy anywhere as long as it’s with him. Kojuro said he knew that but he had vowed to keep her safe, also he thought she’d be happy to spend some time with her mum, because they hadn’t seen each other since the wedding.

(Milord, don’t you dare twist this as such.)

MC smiled and conceded (DUN DUN DUUUUN)

Cut to a scene in Yonezawa, where Kojuro presented the full report on the battle in Kozakura and Shiroishi.

“Anywhere we look, people are submitting to Toyotomi. If we insist on opposing him, Oshu will be once again a land of war.”

Kojuro got a flack from the retainers for looking like he was implying that submitting to Hideyoshi was an option. Even Shigezane was skeptical.

Masamune kept quiet.

Later MC’s tranquil days in Kyoto were ended by Shigezane’s visit. He looks relieved when he saw her.

“Thank god, you’re here. Where’s Kojuro?”

(DUN DUN DUUUN)

“Eh, Milord is... supposed to be at Yonezawa...?”

(DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN)

Shigezane realised something was very very wrong.

“Kojuro is missing. You should come with me to Yonezawa.”

So off they go to Masamune. Shigezane was mighty worried that Kojuro has disappeared. MC too. But Masamune has just received a letter. From Hideyoshi.

The letter said that Hideyoshi has accepted the service of Kojuro, who declared himself his retainer, unattached and unmarried with no family.

(DUN DUUUN DUUUUNNN NOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEE!)

MC felt like her world turned dark. So many questions. Where was Kojuro, was he being held against his will, and why did the letter declare him as having no family, no wife?

Shigezane was so upset he went away to investigate the situation.

MC stayed at Yonezawa on Masamune’s behest. But rumours of Kojuro’s apparent treachery had the retainers restless, and it got to her.

One day at the hall, the retainers demanded she being arrested and interrogated.

Upon which Masamune released his signature brand of cold anger.

“And what of it? What she got to do with this?”

The retainers fell silent.”

“She is nothing to Kojuro. She came here as my poison taster. She became Kojuro’s retainer. Kojuro is my retainer. She is my retainer first.”

That saves MC but also broke her heart.

For her safety she lives in a safe house somewhere in the vicinity of the castle.

Shigezane came to visit, bringing with him a basket of maru-maru (”round-round”) kakki - big, round persimmons, to cheer her up. Upon receiving this MC two options when Shigezane finished making small talks (was she bored? No, Masamune lent her a lot of books, etc - so cute! but also, still sad...):

A) Is that so....

B) I am happy.

(Because Voltage likes their MC putting a brave face so as not to “inconvenient” people with their true feelings, choose B if you want the points).

Shigezane saw through her pain and didn’t press.

Next came Masamune, who apologized.

“I am sorry I had to say those things in front of them. That must hurt you.”

It did hurt MC. She kept replaying the words over and over again inside her head. Her marriage with Kojuro was a small affair known only to few, Masamune and Shigezane included. If they were to deny that, if Kojuro were to deny that, then was it all in her imagination, like it never happened?

MC knew that Masamune didn’t mean that though and upon seeing how forlorn Masamune looked, she realised that she was not the only one who was missing Kojuro. There was Masamune, and Shigezane too.

Again upon hearing Masamune’s confession, MC had two options to respond:

A) Please don’t apologise.

B) I am saddened, but I understand.

(yes, choose A for the points because Voltage only gives brownie points for not inconveniencing the hero with your true feelings, I just roll my eyes at this point, these “options” are Voltage’s chronic problem, or maybe it showed how the Japanese people unhealthy expectation/idealisation of women.)

Masamune came to ask MC to come with him to Shiroishi to tidy things up. Ad the castle is now masterless. It will be given to Masamune’s uncle, Rusu Masakage (who, along with his son Daitoshimaru, has shown up in SLBP more than once, hahahahh he deserves a hot sprite, Voltage!).

MC dreaded coming back to a place which held so much happiness and promises between her and Kojuro as a couple, but she steeled herself and said yes.

It was painful for her. Seeing her former home without his husband. She entered her bedchamber and reliving the moment Kojuro came to her that night, and all the memories. She sat on the floor and cried because everything hurts, and their stuffs, the wedding present from Yahiko (a couple’s promise books are still there).

She took the book with her and nothing else. She left the room thinking that maybe it was the last time. Has Kojuro truly abandoned her?

She went to the garden for some air and he realised something is missing...

The pot of wisteria sapling they brought over from Yonezawa. It wasn’t there.

Kojuro must have taken it with him.

Hope sprang in her chest. And still full of questions and burning with hope she dried her eyes and went over to Masamune and prostrated herself before him as his retainer and begged him to allow her to go to Kojuro to Osaka.

Okay, but my burning question in all this delicious angsty drama is, where is Bontenmaru the turtle? Why did everyone forget about the hapless turtle? I hope he’s happy somewhere!

Masamune was hesitant. Has she thought it over? She was his retainer too, does she really want to go there to find Kojuro, not knowing what will happen?

Then Kagechika dropped in, still injured but on his way to recovery and he questioned her.

“Are you prepared to never set foot in Oshu again, whatever happened, if you leave to pursue my nephew?”

“Yes.” MC is adamant.

“Why?”

Now MC got two choices.

A) Because I want to see Kojuro-sama.

B) Because I am Kojuro-sama’s wife.

and I fist pumped for once in a long time when Voltage gave me brownie points for picking B. I think Kojuro’s story is always themed around Devotion, his to Masamune more specifically. And now that spilled over to MC’s devotion as his wedded wife, to him. I can appreciate this.

Kagechika laughed and then with some effort, he prostrated himself before Masamune too, begging him on MC’s behalf.

“Masamune-sama, please let her go to Osaka to chase my selfish nephew.”

“.... Very well. You are leaving tonight.”

Before leaving, Masamune gave MC a message only for Kojuro’s ear.

“Tell him,< if that’s what you intend to do then I will protect you on the event of your return>.”

(LET ME UGLY SOB OVER THE BEAUTIFUL BOND THESE OSHU BOYS SHARE)

Okay, I didn’t expect MC to just showed up at Osaka Castle’s gate and demand to see Kojuro because she is his wife. But of course that is exactly what she did.

The soldiers laughed at her. But then MITSUNARI appeared, yay! And after staring MC down (though she met his eyes dead on) he went back to fetch... HIDEYOSHI himself.

MC had seen Hide’s face behind the screen, first in Yonezawa and again in Shiroishi so she was so surprised.

And HIde was so nice! And full of smiles! and he guided her inside the castle while making small talks!

(I WAS LIKE NO NO NO NO YOU SMILEY BASTARD, NOOOOO)

Then of course he led her into an empty room and then told her to stay there.

“Where is Kojuro-sama?”

“Hm? He’s away on business. You will stay here.”

“!”

“If you are indeed Kojuro-san’s wife, I cannot afford to be careless with you. Stay here and ask Mitsunari if you require anything.”

Yis, MC is under arrest. She was treated nicely, maids came to feed and clean her room, but Mitsunari never granted her wish to talk to Hideyoshi again (Hideyoshi has no time for you!), and she’s getting so frustrated she resolved to escape when the maid was distracted one day.

Osaka castle was huge and she got lost and then she bumped into Kyouichiro aka Goemon aka that Robin Hood-type nukenin (runaway ninja) introduced to tenka player in Tenka Tsuki.

MC thought he was one of Hide’s retainers.

“I’ve never seen your face before.”

“I’m new,” MC decided to fake nonchalance. “Hideyoshi-sama summoned me but I got lost. can you show the way?”

But before he could she heard a commotion from her pursuers and when she looked over, Gemon had vanished (lol, because he is a dorobo-san, MC!).

She ran and get caught but then she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

it was Kojuro.

(I SCREAMED AND I SCREAMED)

... and there was Hideyoshi there with him.

Kojuro’s momentary shock was immediately replaced by a stern look.

“Oh, you found her.” (no, she found him, you monkey bastard). “Now, Kojuro, this ojousan claimed to be your wife and I was surprised because you said you had none.”

“She is,” Kojuro said without hesitation, “my page.”

MC felt as if she’d been stabbed.

“Oh?”

“Would you care to hear the explanation from my own mouth?”

“Please,” Hideyoshi smiled (I wanna murder him).

So they went to this really beautiful hall in the Osaka castle. MC wa supset and shocked and in a trance. Kojuro told their story, the real history of how she became his page, and that’s it. No stories of how they became lovers and such. She was holding on to the hope that he did this to protect them (of course!) but she tried to catch Kojuro’s eyes but he refused to look at her.

“Ah so that’s the story. Your retainer loves you so much and decided to follow you here. That does sound like you.”

MC was internally screaming.

“They why don’t you stay in Kojuro’s residence?”

Kojuro was shocked.

“I gave you servants true. But since you’re page is here, it makes sense, no?”

Kojuro conceded and MC was taken to his residence in Osaka. She was still in shock and tried to make sense of everything. Replaying the scene of Kojuro saying that she was his page (and nothing more) over and over again.

She refused to think the worse but she did think about what’s going to happen is Kojuro denied her. What’s going to happen now that she’s left Oshu?

Later that night, she heard the door opened and she sled from her room, clutching the promised book like it was her life. She saw Kojuro across the hall.

(This scene was devastating because SO MUCH, SO MUCH baggage was conveyed but nothing was explained and she didn’t know where to start)

Then Kojuro passed her by and went to his room. MC grabbed his sleeve and begged to talk but he coldly dismissed her saying that he wanted to rest.

MC stood in front of his door, feeling utterly devasvated.

(can I mentioned that this chapter titled Lies and it killed meeee)

“So Kojuro-sama does not want anything to do with me anymore?”

There was no sound coming from inside, but then.

“Yes...”

Another stab to MC’s heart.

“That promise we made, was it a lie?”

“....”

“The promise to make me happy the promise to wipe my tears away that you made to my mother, was it a lie?”

“Yes.”

This happened for a few rounds, MC asking him all the sweet promises they made as lovers and IT WAS PAINFUL. STAB STAB STAB STAB, SOB SOB SOB, until, when MC thought she had no strength left anymore, Kojuro slid the door open and pulled her in and crush her in his embrace.

“Why did you come?”

“Why did you have to come?”

“Stop it.”

“Don’t say anything anymore.”

She tried to break free to look him into his eyes because in her hearts of hearts she couldn’t believe all this and she needed to catch if he’s lying but he refused to let her go. So she cried and cried.

Nothing was resolved that night. After MC was done crying he told her to get some rest. MC was screaming internally because she didn’t want to part with him, yet. She wanted to know the truth but, she was exhausted so she went.

In the morning she made him breakfast and they ate together. They didn’t talk about what happened but MC, seeing how Kojuro enjoyed her food, resolve to let things be and just... be with him.

(Okay, I was immensely frustrated but understand her at the same time. It’s like in real life marriage post fight you’re both drained and just want to share a quiet moment of truce, if not peace, together because fight is ugly but you love each other and mutually decide to deal with the elephant in the room later)

Her duty as his page in Osaka began in the morning. She tailed Kojuro the training hall and ferried messages between Kojuro and MItsunari (and met Kiyomasa in Mitsunari’s study hahahahah)

She saw how there was still an awkwardness between the Toyotomi retainers and Kojuro and but Kojuro took it in strides and there was an obvious admiration and budding camaraderie... that makes her sad because it seemed like Kojuro had forgotten all about Oshu and made Osaka his home.

She went home earlier while Kojuro was staying at Yonezawa. Alone with her thoughts, she’s going crazy so she started cleaning and sweeping the garden.

And there she found.

That potted wisteria sapling. That same one missing from Shiroishi.

(I SCREAMED AND I SCREAMED AND I SCREAMED)

It was wilting and MC immediately took it to care for the plant.

Their life regressed back to that of lord and page. But MC was holding out hope, and waiting for the right moment to tell Masamune’s message to Kojuro. And the wisteria sapling’s growing strong.

One day Kojuro caught her caring for it and his face said it all.

“I apologize for taking the matter into my own hands.”

“Don’t... I suspect as much... with the soil being damp all the time.”

Then conversations fows. Kojuro didn’t say much but MC said her guesses based on her observation and deduction Until Kojuro revealed to her that yes, he did it because he saw no other way and to buy time for the Date clan.

Mc was glad and then she conveyed Masamune’s message. Kojuro’s face lit up with a smile.

With Hideyoshi getting Kojuro, his army retreated back to the west to take care of the flooding problem and rebellion in the area. But with Kojuro working on it they’re almost done and soon they’d set sight on Oshu again and Masamune will need to make a decision.

Upon hearing this decision MC has two choices.

A) I’m sorry for tampering with your strategy.

B) I am glad to hear the explanation.

I WAS READY TO RANT IF VOLTAGE FAVOURS A BUT THANK GOD I CHOSE B THAT WAS THE POINT ANSWER, HUFF.

Kojuro apologised and told her that he should have told her, at least. but it needs to be convincing. (YA THINK??? YA NINNY! HUFFFF!)

Next MC witnessed a grand meeting where Hideyoshi is prepared to conquer teh East now that West is free from flooding.

Kojuro begged Hideyoshi to send Masamune another letter.

Kanbei (helloooooo) was skeptical of Kojuro’s request. But Hide defended him and decided to give Masamune another chance.

“But it will be the last.”

And while they’re sending the letter, they’re to march East. Kojuro would have to come too.

He decided to send MC to Kyoto again. (AGAIN???? I threw my phone) But this time is different. He looked at her in the eyes. He’d go to this campaign intending to convince Masamune not to go to war. He could be killed by, theoretically, both camps

and told her to take the potted wisteria (LOL, HAHHAHAHAHHA, THAT WISTERIA NEEDS A NAME BONTENMARUUUUUUU).

MC conceded and they parted ways. Kojuro to Oshu with the Toyotomi army and MC to Kyoto.

On the road though, MC encounters Goemon (again!) in his fancy heist outfit. She thought Hideyoshi sent him and ran away from him. He gave a chase but before anything happened or explained, a ninja came to her aid.

GENYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhh

(I SQUEED, THANK OTOME GODS KOJURO’S SEQUEL CAME OUT AFTER TSUKI IS RELEASED SO WE CAN HAVE THESE CHARAS THERE)

Genya fought Goemon for a bit before latter just decided it’s not worth it and bailed. Lol, I think the whole thing was just a misunderstanding and he just wanted to go to Osaka to rob some stuff anyway.

“Who are you?”

“Kojuro-san hired me to see you safe in Kyoto.”

But MC had another thought. She thought Goemon was sent by Hideyoshi and if Hideyoshi sent someone to get her then it must be because he didn’t trust Kojuro. She feared for him and asked Genya to take her to Kojuro in the frontline.

Genya refused ( Mendokusaaaa~~~i) but MC promised him a greater reward if he did it and anyway he wouldn’t get paid if either of them dead. So Genya took her to Kojuro.

(this part is the Noble end part from Kojuro’s POV)

He was sneaking out Toyotomi’s camp because they ave not heard from Masamune and Kojuro has exhausted all excuses to buy time so he planned to convince Masamune directly.

But he got caught.

Hideyoshi said he was disappointed with him because afterall, they were different.

“It is too unbearable for you to sever your ties with your former lord afterall.”

Kojuro kneeled and beg his leave to go to Masamune’s camp to convince him to come to Toyotomi’s fold because neither of them wanted this bloodshed, which will cost both sides dearly.

“And what makes you think they would listen to a word from a traitor’s mouth?”

When it looked like they were going to harm Kojuro. MC came galloping to the scene and thew herself in front of Kojuro.

She made an impassioned speech about Kojuro’s loyalty. And something shifted in HIdeyoshi’s face, but still...

“What guarantee is there that you would not just go there to defect back? There is no guarantee for your word nor your action.”

Upon which Kojuro looked at MC and they came to an unspoken understanding.

Then Kojuro revealed that MC had been his wife all along. And that she should serve as a willing hostage.

“If we deceived you before then let this be our apology.”

Hideyoshi was stunned... but then he decided to gamble ahead. The Date would likely have Kojuro killed for treason and that would be a shame but since he insisted then very well. MC would stay as a hostage and he would endeavor to bring Oshu to his cause.

(Okay but thought this mess MC was carrying a potted wisteria plant, lol, it’s their baby!)

Okay, I’ll leave the Oshuboys reunion part out because you need to experience that from Kojuro’s point of view (AAAHHHHHHHH THESE BOYS AND THEIR BOND)

long story short, blooshed averted.

But Kojuro didn’t come back to Oshu,

He decided to stay in Osaka and serves Oshu’s interest there, with MC.

The scene ended in their home in Osaka. Kojuro came home drenched because it was raining and MC toweled him dry and berating him and he just smiled happily and MC asked, what’s wrong because he has this look.

He said nothing.

While thinking, I truly love you, my precious girl.

And the potted wisteria grows happily in the garden~~~~

tagging my sisterwives @viridian99 @foreverendevor @shokundayo

#samurai love ballad party #slbp #katakura kojuro #slbp kojuro #samurai love ballad #slbp spoilers

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