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intheticklecloset · 3 years

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Hyena Laugh (Haikyuu!!)

Primary Universe

We’re going back in time for this one! This takes place during the timeline of S1E1. You’ll see what I mean. Thanks for the cute suggestion; this prompt was really fun to work on! Lee Suga is so cute! Enjoy! ^^

“Hey, Suga, you good to lock up?”

No reply.

Daichi turned to where he’d last seen his friend. He was still there, leaning on a mop handle in the middle of the court, staring at nothing. Zoning out. He must be tired, Daichi thought as he approached the silver-haired setter. We did have a long day today.

Earlier that afternoon the two of them – plus Asahi, who had already gone home for the night – had traveled to watch the middle school volleyball tournament and scout out the up and coming players. Players that might be part of their team one day. The games themselves had been fairly standard; the thing that had really taken it out of the second-years was the actual driving to and from the event. They’d had to borrow Asahi’s family car for the day (hence Asahi going home earlier, as he had to return the vehicle), and being in that small space with each other for hours on end had gotten tiring.

“Suga?” Daichi tried again, gently putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You good?”

“Huh?” Suga turned, blinked. “Oh. Yeah, sorry, I can lock up.”

“Tired?”

“Not really.” There was a hint of something in his voice that tipped off the soon-to-be team captain. “Just thinking about the kids we saw today.”

Daichi nodded. “Definitely some talent out there.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause.

“Anyone in particular stand out to you?”

Suga hesitated. “Well…there was that one setter, I guess. He seems like a natural. He’d be a good one to have on the team.”

“Yeah? So what’s bothering you about him?”

Sugawara didn’t even try to deny it. His shoulders slumped. “It’s just, if he – or any other setter, really – joins the team next year, I won’t get to play as much by default. And I really love playing. I’d…I’d miss it, you know?”

Daichi nodded. “Yeah, I know. I get it. But even if you weren’t on the starting lineup anymore, you’d still get to play some games before we graduate. And there will be plenty of practices, too.”

“I know.” Suga suddenly perked up a little, offering a weak smile. “Sorry. I guess it’s just really hitting me that we only have one more year after this. Then it’s over.”

“Playing volleyball never has to be over,” Daichi reminded him gently. “Just our time at Karasuno.”

“You’re right.”

“I hate to see you upset, Suga.” The future captain pushed him playfully, grinning. “Let’s see a smile before we call it a night, yeah?”

Suga offered a smile, but it wasn’t his normal, full, bright one by any stretch of the imagination.

“Nah, come on.” Daichi started poking his fingers up and down his friend’s side. “A real smile. Give it to me.”

“Hehehehey,” Suga chuckled, stepping back and using one hand to bat at the offending pokes. “Stohohohop.”

Instead, Daichi grabbed onto both of his sides and squeezed, making Suga drop the mop handle as he burst into giggles, grabbing at his friend’s wrists.

“Nohohohohoho, Daichihihihi!”

“Smile for me, Suga!” Daichi teased, keeping his grip firm but his touches gentle, making sure the silver-haired setter was constantly grinning.

“I ahahahaham!”

“Bigger!” The future captain suddenly tackled him to the floor, falling on top of him in an awkward heap before finding his belly and digging into the soft flesh with the tips of his fingers.

Sugawara shrieked, starting to let out loud, high-pitched cackles that sounded oddly familiar. It took Daichi a moment to remember where he’d heard the noise before.

“Dude,” he cried, grinning widely, “you have a hyena laugh!”

“I do nohohohohohohot!” Suga protested, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment. He squirmed helplessly on the ground. “Stohohohohohohop!”

“Do not stop? Okay!” Daichi laughed, slipping one hand under Suga’s shirt to scribble at his belly directly. Suga continued to shriek and cackle and writhe, but then he suddenly jerked and let out a loud yowl, startling the future captain enough that he stopped. “Whoa, what was that?”

“N-Nohohothing,” Suga said quickly, still giggling a little, trying to sit up and push Daichi away. “Let me up.”

“Nuh-uh. I want to hear that noise again.”

“Don’t you—nohohohohoho!” Suga immediately fell back onto the floor, his strength sapped out of him, and he dissolved into hysterical, hyena-like giggles again. “Ahahahahahahaha! Daichi, pleheheheHEEEEASE!!” For the second time he screeched, curling up on himself as much as possible, cheeks bright red at this point. “Nohoho, not thehehehere, please Daichi!”

“Not where?” Daichi asked, genuinely interested. He tugged Suga’s shirt up enough to reveal his small navel, then used a fingernail to scratch at it gently. The setter instantly broke into squeaky, desperate laughter. “Not here? Not your belly button?”

“Stohohohohohohop!” Suga pleaded. “Dohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me THEHEHEHEHERE!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

Daichi grinned as he slipped his pointer finger into the cute innie and wiggled crazily, watching with great amusement as Suga fell apart beneath him, flopping around like a fish out of water. “Ha! Sensitive spot?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Suga cried, his laughter loud and pitchy and breathy and alternating between hyena cackles and squeals of mirth. “NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE, PLEASE!! DAICHI STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“But I finally got you smiling! It’s so cute that your belly button is your sweet spot. Such a tiny surface area, but it clearly tickles a lot, huh?”

Suga could not be more red. “STAHAHAHAHAHAP SAHAHAHAHAYING THAHAHAHAT!!”

“Saying what? That it tickles?” Daichi dug in a little more, using his free hand to scribble around the area. “That it’s a good spot? Both things are clearly true; I can’t lie to you, Suga.”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! S-STAHAHAHAHAHAP – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Suga gasped for air so hard he let out a snort, which only made him blush harder as Daichi burst into his own laughter and kept tickling. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! DAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAICHIIIIIIII!!”

“That was awesome!” Daichi wheezed, straddling his friend’s thighs to keep him pinned in place. “Do it again!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” As requested – though not by choice – Suga snorted once more, his hysterics growing now that he couldn’t move. His hands desperately shoved at his tormentor. “GET – GEHEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOHOHOUT!! GET OUT PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Another snort. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Daichi had never, ever seen Sugawara laugh this hard or this genuinely. He was almost in a trance, watching his friend dissolve into desperate hysterics, laughing so hard his cheeks and ears turned pink, his eyes scrunched up, and he lost all sense of control as the tickling wracked his nervous system. It was incredible.

“Your belly button is super ticklish!” The future captain laughed along with his friend, thoroughly amused and warmed to the heart at the same time.

“S-STAHAHAHAHAHAP SAHAHAHAHAYING--*snort*--THAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT WOHOHOHOHOHOHORD!! DAHAHAHAICHI, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! *snort* PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Daichi was genuinely confused. “What word?” He finally showed a little mercy and removed his finger from Suga’s navel, merely scratching at his belly instead as he contemplated. As Suga gratefully gasped for breath, Daichi smirked. “Ticklish? You don’t like hearing the word ticklish?”

“N-Nohohohohot thahahahat,” Suga wheezed, still giggling, though seeming to have lost the energy to fight back at this point. “T-The other wohohohohord.”

“What other word? Belly button?” Color flooded Suga’s cheeks, and Daichi couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “You get flustered hearing the word belly button?”

“Stop,” Suga whined, covering his face with his hands. “Plehehease, you’re mahahaking it worse.”

“Aww, but why should I stop?” The future captain started swirling his finger around the tiny opening teasingly. “You can’t tell me you’re not having fun, Suga.”

The setter was clearly desperate already, giggling crazily and trying to cover his sweet spot, but Daichi kept pushing his hands out of the way. “I – I am, b-but…but please, Daichi, it really, really tickles there!”

Daichi smirked, slipped his finger inside again, and wiggled. Suga shrieked. “I can tell.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Sugawara pleaded, shaking his head and digging his heels in so hard his sneakers squeaked against the gym floor, trying to shove Daichi away from him but – failing that – beginning to slap the ground instead. “DAHAHAHAHAHAHAICHI YOU’RE KIHIHIHIHIHIHILLING MEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

Daichi laughed, but finally removed his hands from Suga’s poor belly entirely and climbed off of him. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

“M-Mohohonster,” Suga wheezed, rolling onto his side and curling up protectively, smile so wide it took up his whole face. “Y-You’re a…a monster! That was the worst!”

“Was it really?” Daichi asked, only half teasing now. For a split second he wondered if he’d honestly taken it too far, despite how big Sugawara was grinning. “Was it too much?”

“Yes,” Suga replied, still breathless, still beaming. “But you were right. It was kind of fun, too.”

“I, uh…didn’t mean to get so carried away,” Daichi offered, blushing a little himself, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s just, you reacted so well I kind of got addicted to it. Sorry.”

Suga finally mustered the strength to push himself up into a sitting position with a groan. “It’s all right. I’m not mad. Just – look, now that you know my weakness, you gotta use it against me sparingly, okay? I would say not at all, but…”

“But it was fun?”

“Yeah.”

“I promise I’ll only use your weakness against you when the situation is dire.” The future captain held up one hand and crossed his heart with the other. “Like, you know, when you bomb a math test or something.”

“What? That’s not a dire situation.”

“It is to me.”

Suga laughed again. His normal, everyday laugh. Evidently the other one was reserved only for when he was being tickled.

Daichi grinned. “Or, you know, when I need a reminder on what a hyena sounds like.”

“I do not sound like a hyena!”

“You really do.”

“I do not!”

“I mean, I can prove it again, if you want.”

“No!” Suga shoved him, smirking. “You’re so mean.”

“Yet you hang out with me anyway.”

“Some team captain you’re going to be.”

“I happen to think I’ll do great, Tickle Me Elmo.”

“Oh my god, do not start calling me that.”

“You have a better name?”

“My own name is fine, thank you.”

Daichi chuckled, leaning back on his hands, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “So, I take it you’re not bothered by that setter anymore.”

Suga looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “What setter?”

Daichi laughed.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#sugawara #suga #daichi #daisuga #playful #teasing #cute #fluff #cheer up #belly button #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

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These Violent Delights ||Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 3 of a request for @tiger-khans-blog

Part 1 - Obsession Part 2 - When You’re Lost I’ll Leave My Gaslight On

Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic.

This fic in particular contains graphic descriptions of violence and injury further down.

Words: 5543

Summary: With no idea what is and isn’t real anymore you’re beginning to lose your mind and suspect your loving mate isn’t all he seems to be. Desperate for some semblance of sanity you try one last time to clear your head, and the consequences are dire.

Demetri had suspected that there was something more going on beyond the surface. Y/N Swan was quite a sweet little thing and he had missed her greatly, but he respected her decision – as had Felix – to create some distance between them so she could learn to get along with Alec. Now Demetri was wondering if she’d ever made that decision at all. With increasing frequency Alec had burst into his room or the throne room with the declaration you were missing, and Demetri had immediately put his gift to good use. In almost all the situations Demetri had prepared for the worst, perhaps he’d find you kidnapped or injured somewhere after an outing gone wrong? But every time he’d found you you had been perfectly fine and dreadfully confused as to why he was there at all.

You were always doing quite mundane things. He didn’t even need to track you half the time to tell Alec you were at that little café whose pastries you adored. Sometimes you ventured further out, wanting to see the leaves changing colour in autumn in the park nearby. Other times you were literally right on their doorstep, drawing on the edge of the fountain. On those occasions Demetri stayed with you, letting you have a few minutes more of freedom, because he had started to notice a disturbing pattern – every time he found you you looked more and more lost. You had adamantly refused to accept Alec had not seen your note the first few times, but the doubt slowly crept in until you were entirely unsure of what you had or hadn’t done. Alec was never violent upon your reunion, playing the part of the concerned mate perfectly. He was always so relieved to have you back, but the boy seemed oblivious that you were obviously suffering.

You had lost that spark you used to have in your eyes, and your posture had become more slumped over. You were meeker, agreeing to whatever was put forward to you without question more often than not. Demetri was sure he could tell you the sky was purple and you’d whole heartedly agree, even if the blue was staring you right in the face. Your withdrawn personality didn’t seem to trouble Alec but it bothered him greatly. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but you were a shell of your former self, an anxious, meek little thing who looked nowhere near as happy as she should given she had found her mate. He had caught you in the kitchen once, tired from a day of studying Italian with Marcus as you had become want to do, berating yourself for dropping a pan on your toes while cooking. To say he was surprised to hear your cursing your ‘clumsy human hands’ was an understatement.

No, no Demetri was beyond suspicious, especially when you began to go ‘missing’ more frequently, looking more and more desperate each time he found you further and further out. You had fought him the last time he found you, pounding against his chest and begging him to not take you back. His concern had brought him in all good faith to Alec’s door while you slept one night.

“What can I do for you?” Alec asked, head tilting curiously. Demetri frowned.

“It’s about Y/N. I have some concerns, Alec.” He answered. Alec’s frown immediately depeened, his eyes growing darker.

“What concerns? Is she sick? She seemed fine when I left her to sleep.”

“No, no nothing like that, though I fear her mind may not be healthy. She seems…anxious, desperate to be out of the castle. Is there something going on Alec?” he asked. Alec’s already dark eyes turned black, the red leeching out of his irises so fast Demetri was almost shocked. His expression was cold as an arctic wind and his voice held little room for argument when he answered him.

“That is of no concern to you, she’s shared her worries with me already. You overstep Demetri, she’s my mate and I’ll care for her how I see fit.”

“I simply want to know if there is anything I can do to help. It’s no secret we care for the girl to Alec, let us help.” He frowned.

“What she needs from you, Demetri, is to be left the hell alone. Stop filling her head with poison. I know you talk at the fountain. She’s upset because you suggested she might be allowed to visit her family one day. They haven’t written to her in months, the false hope crushed her. Leave my mate to me and stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He snarled quietly. Demetri hissed quietly, his irritation flaring.

“What are you talking about? A letter arrived for her Tuesday gone.” He received a door to his face as his answer, the wood actually splintering a little with the force Alec slammed it with. He knew you had been getting letters frequently from the Cullen’s and your sister, he had seen some of them when the secretary was sorting the mail out, so why hadn’t you been getting them? If you were in such a deep spiral surely it was a contributing factor. The only thing he could think of was that the secretary hadn’t delivered them. But why? he flitted straight to her desk without another moment to spare, finding her packing up to leave for the evening. She jumped at his sudden appearance.

“Demetri, I didn’t see you there, how can I help you?” she was a new girl, the fourth one in the past two months, and he didn’t care to remember her name. His head tilted.

“You received a letter the other day for Y/N Swan did you not?” he questioned, leaning against her desk. She frowned, nodding.

“I did, I gave it to Alec to deliver, did it not reach her?” she asked, looking somewhat anxious now. Demetri paused, letting his mind work it over. So, Alec had been supposed to deliver that had he? How many more had he gotten his grubby little hands on? Demetri felt a quiet sense of horror dawn on him. It made a lot more sense suddenly, why you weren’t getting any of your family’s letters. Alec had taken them all to keep you from getting in touch with them. Was your silence towards himself and Felix the same? Orchestrated by Alec so not even you knew the real reason the three of you no longer spoke?

“Not on this occasion. Not to worry, thank you for your help, sweet thing.” He shot her a charming smile to mask his sudden anxiety and disappeared as quickly as he came, heading straight for the throne room. Maybe you hadn’t been going mad at all, maybe Alec was the one driving you insane…

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Caius growled, beyond annoyed with the way he had flung the door open in his haste. Demetri grimaced.

“My apologies Masters, but I need to talk to you urgently.”

You had to get out this time. The walls of old buildings scraped at your hands as you bolted down one alleyway after the next, swinging around corners and doing your best to stay upright as the cobblestones did their best to trip you. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your anxiety was at an all time high, panic attacks in the morning a common thing as you dreaded the day ahead – another day of disappointing Alec in all your human imperfection. There was no one you could turn to for comfort either, not with Demetri so busy all the time. He was less of a friend and more of a guard, dragging you back each time you left as Alec had promised you his duty as a guard entailed. The worst part was that you knew your feelings of inadequacy were completely unnecessary because you weren’t the one in the wrong, Alec was.

It had become more and more obvious he wasn’t letting you leave the castle, and sneaking out when you could became your one chance to see sunlight, to have any sort of freedom. When you’d tried to ask him about it he’d brushed you off again, telling you you were being silly and reminding you of all the times he’d taken you out to the Gardens, all the gifts you’d been given as apologies for missed opportunities to venture out into the world…but he’d been lying as long as you’d known him. Maybe he had learned to control his urges, but not his darkest impulses. Alec had wanted you all to himself and he had managed to succeed with his lies and deceit. It had been a complete accident, when you came across the mountain of lies he’d told. You had been waiting to surprise him (having stayed up to wait for him to finish his guard shift) when you spilt a glass of apple juice down your shirt. His closet was the closest place to find a replacement and it would hardly be the first time you’d taken a shirt of his.

The shrine in his closet was just too much.

Everything that had gone missing lay at an alter dedicated to you. Tears blurred your vision as the flash of ivory and familiar, scribbly writing permeated your mind once more. Letters – Bella’s letters. Your sister had never forgotten you. Alec had simply made you think she had. You had been right all along, the bundled-up letters proved as such, he had always been a monster. Selfish and ugly all the way to the core, Alec Volturi had never been your Prince Charming. How many other lies had he told? He’d isolated you until all you had was him, till you relied on him to get you through your day. No more. You tripped over your own feet, vision blurred by tears. The ground rushed up to meet you, a sharp sting ripping through your knee as you cried out, catching yourself with your hands before you could smash your face into the stone. Gasping for air, you tried desperately to fill your lungs, the rising hysteria making it difficult to steady your breathing. What if you couldn’t escape? Demetri always found you and he’d drag you back there, you knew he would. He couldn’t be allowed to find you, not this time, you had to keep moving and –

“Signorina?”

Your head snapped up, body scrambling to right itself despite the deep throbbing in your knee. A young man not too much older than yourself was slowly coming towards you, hands raised and expression concerned. He had a sort of roguish charm about him, tousled dark hair and equally as dark eyes (too lose to Alec’s angry onyx to be of any comfort) set in a tanned face. He had more colour to his skin than Alec could ever hope to have. With the sleeves of a plain white shirt rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone and smart pants on, he must have been coming home from a shift as a waiter perhaps, maybe a barista in one of the fancier coffee houses in town, but you didn’t trust him at all. How could you trust anyone when the one person you had relied on had been a lying, manipulative, deceitful little –

“S-stay back.” You stammered, scrambling to get to your feet now. The tear in your skin oozed fresh blood, dampening your skin and making you whimper. It wasn’t that it hurt necessarily, though it did sting terribly, it was more the fear that you knew what lurked in the shadows of Volterra and if anyone smelled that…well, Demetri was a hundred times more likely to find you now, wasn’t he?

“I don’t mean you any…erm…ah…hurt?” he tried, his accent thick and his English clearly not at the level of fluency. If you were in a better state of mind you’d be at least grateful he tried, however he was still approaching you and you didn’t enjoy his proximity when you needed to move. You had to keep going, had to get to a bus stop or a train station, something! Was there even a place like that in Volterra? There had to be right? You took a step away from him, your leg failing you so you half fell, half limped forward. His arms were around you in an instant and you screamed, wriggling desperately to fight him off.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Merda! Smettila di lottare!” (Shit! Stop fighting!) he cursed, tightening his grip on you. Legs flailing, you threw your head back in a desperate attempt to get him to let go, your skull protesting as bone crunched beneath it. His arms dropped and you darted forward, only for your knee to give way once more. With another loud curse the boy was on-top of you then, glancing around wildly to see if anyone had noticed your scuffle yet. His weight atop you was almost suffocating given how much trouble you had already had breathing, and tears filled your eyes as you wriggled to try and be free of him.

“Get off of me! Help!” you screamed. Blood dripped from his nose onto your cheeks, hot and thick and oozing slowly down your cheek. “Stop it!” Strong hands encircled your wrists, pinning them harshly to the stone beneath you. It dug into your spine uncomfortably and it became very clear very quickly you were not escaping this boy.

“Stop!” he snapped, muttering a few choice words in Italian you had heard Felix use once or twice. His expression was contorted into a mask of pain, his nose swollen but not broken and his body holding tight to your own to keep you from moving. Your struggling was only serving to make you brush against him though, and it was clear the effect it was having on him was not helping him decide to let you go. If you had been in your right mind, you would have understood this boy was only trying to help, stop you moving to ensure you didn’t hurt yourself further, but in the moment your reality was warped and far too terrifying for you to see sense.

“Fuoco! Fuoco!” (Fire! Fire!) Your father had always taught you to tell fire rather than help, it attracted more attention he said. You didn’t attract the kind of attention you wanted. The boy was thrown off of you in a blur of movement, his body smashing into the brickwork of the house across from you. You heard the bones shattering, his ear-piercing scream ringing in your ears as a black cloak obscured his attacker. With or without the cloak you knew who it was, the smaller, lean stature, the ferocity with which he tore into his victim. You whimpered, eyes turning away from the poor boy. There was no way to help him now, not when Alec was busy popping his bones through his skin like one might spear a sausage with a cocktail stick at a party. Rolling to your front, you tried desperately to get your trembling limbs to cooperate, your hysterical screaming echoing off of the walls.

You had barely limped three steps when the screeching behind you abruptly cut away into a gurgling sound. Ice cold hands found your shoulders and you whirled desperately to try and fend Alec off, only to freeze at the sight of the poor, mangled boy behind you. His actions may not have been good, but he didn’t deserve to be folded in on himself like a human pretzel, bones poking out of his skin and blood gushing from an open wound on his throat. He was drowning in crimson, choked by the same saccharine liquid Alec was licking off of his thumb now, onyx eyes boring into your own with his usual apathetic expression hiding the pure mania in his eyes.

He hadn’t even fed, he’d killed the boy for sport.

“See what happens when you go out alone little human?” he asked. The bile rose in your throat too quickly to stop it and Alec obligingly held your hair as you turned to the side and threw up at your feet, hot acid burning the back of your throat and stomach churning violently. Panting, you kept your wide-eyed stare fixed on the cobblestones. Even then it wasn’t enough, a trail of blood slowly seeping its way towards you, descending downhill like some morbid snake writhing between the stones. You couldn’t keep the tears away this time as Alec’s breath, metallic with the scent of another man’s blood, sent a wave of dizziness over you.

“P-please…please d-don’t…I can’t…” your head spun, too many thoughts and feelings crashing and colliding and rendering you a stammering mess before you finally grew mute, your body growing cold. Alec held you tenderly, like you were the only thing in the world to him that mattered, his embrace as soft as cotton but cold, as though death itself had shrouded you. In the distant parts of your mind you recognised he was talking to you, but you didn’t dare listen. He was the serpent that tempted Eve, a voice of velvet spinning spider webs to ensnare you. Dimly, you noted that the boy’s blood was running past your toes now.

Was this how it ended for you? Had Alec finally had enough of your obedience training? Clearly it hadn’t worked. You felt filthy to the core for enjoying his embrace, but his arms were strong and held you when your legs couldn’t anymore, his honeyed words a balm to your aching soul, promising his own brand of everlasting love - the same brand he’d gotten you hopelessly addicted to. Even his scent made your head swim, fresh linen that should be so crisp and clear, refreshing, just drowned you further. Nobody would come for you now. Alec had finally gotten you in his grasp just as he wanted and you were far, far too tainted for anyone to save. The wounds his love had inflicted too deep, festering and rotting you from the inside out, and the worst part was, you had let it happen.

You had accepted every kind word, every smile, every present, every touch, as a gift bestowed on you that you were unworthy of. So blinded by the dazzling display of redemption were you you hadn’t seen beyond the surface of the superficial affection he laid at your feet, too enamoured with all he had become to see the old monster lingering in every smile and darkening of his eyes. Alec had never changed, he had simply wore you down, so when his frozen fingers pushed your jaw upward and to the left you didn’t fight, because deep down you knew you’d never stood a chance.

“It’s alright Y/N, you’re only human,” he whispered, “You can be forgiven for that…”

“How?” your voice cracked. Forgiveness seemed impossible. If Bella or your father or anyone you loved could see you now you knew forgiveness would not be the word on their lips. How could you be forgiven for letting yourself fall so far? How could you be forgiven for being the reason that poor boy didn’t go home tonight? He had chosen to try and help you and it had only gotten him brutally murdered. The only thing Alec had ever been right about was that you were only human. None of the terrible things that had happened to you or anyone surrounding you were your fault. The blame lay solely at Alec’s feet.

“By acknowledging your flaws and becoming something more.”

Somehow, despite all the evidence before you, you really hadn’t expected him to bite down. Some part of you still thought he was above that maybe. It was like lava pouring straight from his mouth into your veins, filling your wound until it spilled over and shot down your arms, through your torso, scorching your nerve endings. It spread rapidly and you couldn’t bite back the bloodcurdling scream that left you. Alec held you tight as your body jerked, trying to escape the inescapable, the agony was all internal, a fire consuming you from the inside out.

“Alec! Alec what did you do!”

“What I had to to protect my mate!”

“Good god Alec…”

“Look at this mess.” The voices were indistinguishable, heightened and then muted, blending and yet distinctive. Your vision was too blurred to figure out the faces behind the cloaks swarming you, ripping you from one cold embrace to the next. Everything was too hot and you couldn’t escape it, no way to tear yourself out of your own body as it was flooded with acid.

“Shhhh, shhh little human.”

“Demetri get her out of here before she draws attention to this scene.”

“D-D-De-“ you barely got half of his name out before another scream broke through your throat. You didn’t have the strength to hold it back, couldn’t feel the grip your friend had on you. The world was slipping away inch by inch as you drowned in a pool of molten fire, the surface disappearing and taking you with it. Maybe this was hell? Maybe your weakness had earned you a spot in eternal fire and torment and this was only the beginning of a very long forever?

“Just give in Y/N, let go, just let go.” Somewhere through the pain you were sure Demetri had said this to you, and you battered heart didn’t know how to take it. It beat erratically, every frantic thud hoping beyond hope it would take you closer to a reunion with Bella, with the Cullen’s, with anyone you held dear. Did Demetri just want you to fall unconscious or did he mean you to really let go? What did you have to wake up for in Volterra after all? Alec would never let you leave, that much was clear now. You tried to hold onto these thoughts, really debate them and use them to ground you and keep you there, but they scattered like ash with the rest of you as the fire built to a raging inferno and melted everything you ever were.

The intense agony was all you knew now. What else could you do? Trapped in your head your only option was to count the seconds between one wave and the next, each drowning bout of flame lapping at your soul, disintegrating who you were piece by piece. By the time the fire had started to recede you weren’t sure how much time had passed, if time even had meaning. You were amazed your heart had held out under the assault of venom. It started at your extremities, like something in your chest was winching the fire back in, but as the sweet and numbing relief of the cold crept in at your toes the fire in your heart burned hotter. A grunting sound was the first thing you’d heard beyond the screaming in your head for a while, and you realised it was you, desperately fighting back the cry building in your throat as the white hot core in your chest blazed through the last of your humanity.

By the time you slumped back down, your consciousness drifting back to you slowly, you were struggling to remember how you had gotten in this predicament in the first place. Where were you? Who was around you? You wanted Bella, oh you wanted your sister so badly. The air around you felt heavier on your skin, saturated with sharp scents that overpowered your nose and made your tongue tingle when you opened your mouth for that first gasp of air. Your eyes were next to snap open, immediately focusing on the cracks in the wooden beams and the stone ceiling, the dust mites floating in the air. There was an assault of noise next, voices chattering and laughing, birds twittering, cars honking and more, so much more. Hands flying up to your ears, you noticed how it felt different to move, more fluid somehow, and the bright shine in the corner of your eye mad you sit up and move your hand back towards the light.

It glittered. Your hand was crystal, reflecting light and throwing it against the walls where it shattered into rainbow patterns, dazzling your too focused eyes.

“Y/N?”

Danger. Danger danger danger danger danger –

“Felix, give her time…it’s alright young one, we are not here to harm you.” Another foreign voice. You moved so fast everything should have blurred, your body twisting and turning agilely as you shot off of the soft mattress and hit the hard wall with crushing force, stone chipping and falling around you while you dug your nails into the natural rock of the wall. The noise that ripped from your throat was threatening, air rushing up from your lungs and pushing out between your teeth. It shocked you enough to make you freeze, brain scrambling to catch up because there was no way that noise had come from you. Wait, who were you again? Who were they? The voices seemed familiar, but different, their faces to. The men were beautiful in a way nobody should ever be allowed to be, the flawless planes of their faces also reflecting diamond light across the walls as one slowly crept closer to you. Another hiss of air escaped your throat, warning him to stay back.

“Now who needs to give her time.” Felix, that’s what he’d called him…Felix! Your mind dredged up the murky images on demand, and you couldn’t help but frown as you tried to clear the image in your head. It was like watching the memories flow through dirty water, Felix and Demetri helping decorate your room with you, avoiding you in the corridors, no longer talking to you because Alec –

Alec!

“No.” you whispered, startled again into standing up straight, hand flying to your throat as a foreign, bell-like voice rang out. Demetri paused, letting your wild eyes take in the room.

“He is not here Y/N, the Masters’ are punishing him for his…indiscretion, by making him miss your awakening.” Felix chose his words carefully as Demetri slowly continued forward. It was so hard to focus, so much noise, so much to see, so many thoughts spinning rapidly through your mind. It worked faster now, you noticed, your brain working at top speed in a way you knew you’d only achieve with a substantial amount of caffeine if you were still human. Thoughts of Alec consumed you. Where was he? What had become of the boy he had murdered? Would he be kinder to you now you were no longer human? No longer imperfect…

“Y/N, try to focus, I know there is a lot to process right now.” Demetri sounded apologetic almost and your eyes snapped to him.

“I want to go home.” You whispered. Even as you said the words there was an uncomfortable tug in your gut, like something sharp had nicked at your intestines almost. The idea made you uncomfortable.

“What you need right now is to feed.” Demetri amended, his hand gentle on your arm. His words started an inferno in your throat. It was like the worst sore throat you’d ever had multiplied ad infinitum, the burn scorching from top to bottom while your gut twisted horribly. You weren’t just hungry, you were starving.

“Of course that’s what she needs, what newborn doesn’t?” the voice was smooth, so hypnotic you couldn’t help but relax, silently pleading to hear more. If your blood hadn’t already frozen over, you swore it would have upon seeing Alec again. He held what you assumed was the secretary in his arms, given her smart attire, but it was difficult to focus on little else other than the thrumming of her pulse, the tattoo in your brain even more hypnotising than his voice had been. Neither Demetri nor Felix could catch you as you dipped beneath their arms and snatched the body straight out of Alec’s hands, desperate to stop the burning in your throat.

“Y/N don’t!” Demetri’s voice sounded far off, almost like you were listening to him through cotton wool. The sound of blood flowing, a heart thumping…it was far far louder. Your body moved on autopilot, teeth clamping onto soft flesh. After that first burst of sweet, hot blood, your mind went completely blank. The taste was sublime, so intense on your tastebuds like nothing else had ever been. It soothed the fire in your throat some, a torrent of red dousing the flames and soaking your skin. When you could no longer take mouthfuls of the saccharine substance, a needy whine bubbled up in your throat, the tap running dry far too soon for your liking. Your throat still itched.

“Shhhhhh, I know, I know. Do not worry my love, we’ll find you more.” That voice, that hypnotic voice…with the fire in your throat calmed somewhat it was clearer in your ears, helping to ease your desperation and focus your mind some. The fingers in your hair were gentle, the occasionally brush of their skin against yours warm and inviting. You leaned into the tender touch gratefully. There was a scent too, the most intoxicating, fresh linen and pine scent, a hint of something smoky lingering underneath. Inhaling deeply, you let strong arms pull you into a firm chest, taking in lungfulls of that heady scent and letting your turbulent thoughts calm to the rhythm of the fingers running through your hair.

“Alec…”

You gasped slightly, eyes snapping open from your half-lidded gaze. The name had filled you with fear, trepidation, but the sensations surrounding you right now…you were in a safe, hazy little bubble, it was difficult to feel the fear you thought you should. You had totally forgotten he was even in the room and it was no small shock to you that he was the one holding you, that he had created this internal sense of tranquillity you were drowning in.

“I will not let my mate starve, the Masters’ and their punishment be damned.” The smooth bass of a sprightly young voice that filtered in your ears was so similar yet so different. Alec’s voice was nothing short of mesmerising and when you looked up at him his face was just as distracting. Smooth, flawless skin, pale as the moonlight on ocean waves, stretched like an unblemished canvas across high cheekbones and a strong jaw. You could trace the perfect curve of dark eyebrows with your finger, run your hands through the soft tresses of dark hair that framed his face and brushed his eyes. Crimson red eyes peered into your own, softened by adoration and desire.

It was as if your very heart burst forth from your chest to reach out to his. You never wanted anyone else to look at you the way Alec did. Suddenly, nothing he did had mattered, because you were the imperfect one before. This man before you…you saw it now with your new eyes, saw his God-like status for what it really was. You had been unworthy until now. He had elevated you to the same status, was able to love you deeply now.

“Alec.” You breathed his name like it was a quiet prayer. His fingers moved from your hair to your jaw, slowly tracing over your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Welcome back. You are…you’re breath taking.” He gently lowered his forehead to yours and you pushed back lightly, desperate to envelop yourself in the warmth his skin now radiated.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Of course.” Alec promised. You closed your eyes, drowning in his heavenly scent.

“Y/N…you’ll need to feed some more. Perhaps we can then contact the Cullen’s and see about getting you home. We don’t usually allow newborns to stay in the castle.” Demetri spoke up finally, shattering the peaceful quiet surrounding you. That pinching sensation in your gut was back again, your eyes widening. Alec had finally accepted you! You were finally good enough and Demetri just wanted to – to send you away? No. No absolutely not. Any thoughts of going home that you had once entertained were long gone. You couldn’t leave now, not when you had to show Alec how grateful you were, how you were better now like this.

“Do I have to go?” you whispered. Alec shook his head.

“Of course not Y/N, your place is here, with me.” His lips were so soft on your own, a shiver rolling down your spine at the rightness of it. He was your perfect fit. You were made for all of his light and dark, to bear the brunt of his best and worst. You hadn’t been before, but you were ready now, ready to survive his obsession.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite.

Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Friar Lawrence, Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 6, by William Shakespeare

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #alec volturi #alec volturi x female reader #demetri volturi #felix volturi #dark themes #obsession #request

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stxrrywildflower · 4 years

Text

for better or for worse (3)

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - when the people they love the most are kidnapped and ripped out of their hands, the bau does everything they can to get them back before it turns dire

warnings - mentions of case, injury details, angst

series masterlist

bloody jewelry and seven smashed phones.

that’s all the bau team had to go off of in the investigation.

just like hotch had offered, he stepped up to take charge of the situation. emily was thankful to be able to step down for the case, the stress was bulding up and she was ready to crack.

hotch fell back into his leadership role naturally, already pulling someone up from the tech department to do their research and computer work. morgan focused on getting everyone back in the mindset they needed.

luke and spencer were most difficult.

for luke, he felt extremely guilty. morgan did the best he could in helping the agent, though penelope missing did affect him as well.

spencer was a whole different story. he couldn’t think straight, they caught him shaking more than once. sure a walk emily had sent him on did help, though coming back started the cycle all over again.

“hey pretty boy,” morgan started. that nickname alone made spencer flinch. “mind if we go and talk?”

the two men stood up, nodding towards emily and hotch who waved them off.

“i feel like a lot of conversations are happening in here,” spencer commented upon entering morgan’s old office.

“what can i say, it’s a good space,” morgan smiled.

morgan sat on the edge of the desk while spencer took the couch, immediately grabbing a pillow to hold against him. “i’ve already talked to alvez but i figured we need to sit down one on one.”

“it’s not your job to be the team therapist.”

both laughed at that. “yeah well as your friend and honorary older brother, it’s my job to check up on you. and i know how hard this case is for you. i may not be a profiler anymore but your body language is all over the place. and i’m sure that-”

“you know what the last thing i said to y/n was?” spencer interrupted.

morgan stayed quiet, not wanting to say the wrong thing to potentially set him off. “i told her i loved her too,” spencer revealed quietly. “i was dropped her off at her apartment and she kissed me goodnight before telling me she loved me.”

the older agent hugged spencer, not exactly knowing how else to console him other than that. it broke his heart at both the confession and the tears that had started to flow down his cheeks. morgan’s hugs were comforting, they always were. “we’ll get her back kid. that way you can tell her you love her again.”

they stayed in there for a little while longer, talking to refresh their minds of the situation. “we should head back. who knows what the team has discovered by now,” morgan offered. spencer accepted the extended hand to help him up and the two headed back towards the bullpen.

all bets must have been placed on the unsubs making contact sometime soon and through a phone call. a phone incase of ransom or demands was set up on luke’s desk, another machine set up to help trace a call.

hotch and emily remained by the desk while the others work, though main focus was on the device.

the second the phone rang, all members of the team’s attention immediately went to the device. hotch held his hand out, letting them know to keep quiet before signaling emily to pick up the phone.

“hello?” the unit chief answered.

a staticky voice, obviously altered in some form, played over the speaker of the phone.

“you will be receiving a note in exactly fifteen minutes. i expect you to choose wisely.”

sixteen words. sixteen words was all the communication they had from your captors. and it still didn’t feel like enough. “good and bad news,” the new tech analyst announced. “i didn’t pinpoint an exact location but i did narrow it down to areas. they’re no where in the city, somewhere west.”

“choose, what do they mean choose?” j.j. rushed out, panic evident in her tone.

“i need everyone up in the conference room.”

just like the unsub has said, anderson entered the office holding a long office envelope. he handed it over to hotch, who placed it on the round table for examination.

a piece of paper was the first thing pulled out, folded neatly and sealed with wax. with gloved hands, hotch pulled at the folds, breaking the seal. inside, in perfect red ink, was the promised note.

seventy million in twenty dollar bills for their safe return. ten million for each person

or,

ten million for one. your choice. you have 24 hours.

“they want us to choose?”

hotch frowned, reaching back into the envelope

spencer held his hand over his mouth, not even close to being prepared for what he, and the rest of the team, saw.

seven polaroids, all glossy and crisp, were layed out on the table. each was a different picture, all from the neck up. you, along with the others, occupied a square. your injuries were shown, displaying the level of injuries everyone had suffered.

you, andrew, and will were easily the worst. your face was bruised and bloody, dried blood on your nose and dripping from a cut on your forehead. andrew had a similar cut, this time on both of his cheeks. will had a split lip and swollen eyes.

the others, had just a few knicks and bruises. they looked relatively fine, just in shock from the situation.

“oh my god,” j.j. was the first to speak, reaching out to pick up the photo of her husband. the rest did the same, no one knowing how to react to the pictures.

spencer was seconds away from running out of the room, his stomach was flipping and he just overall felt sick. he wanted to rip the photo up, never wanting to see it again.

“we need to start from the begining,” hotch announced. “they’re obviously a team. there’s no way they could have taken seven people without assistance. but that does raise another risk, they could potentially split if something does go wrong.”

that sentence didn’t ease the team at all.

“let’s focus on what they left. broken phones is to let us know they’re missing. but i think we should be focusing on the word love,” morgan added.

“that’s obvious,” matt spoke up. “they’re the people we love the most. by taking them away from us, they want us to experience a certain type of pain.

“we could be looking at siblings!” emily exclaimed.

j.j. nodded at that. “that does make sense. usually partnerships like this wouldn’t have the same level of hatred unless they shared the exact same experience. abandonment or losing someone could be a trigger.”

“we need to look at triplets and siblings who experienced some from of loss in the family. it’s going to be a long list but we can reduce it by the property owned,” hotch ordered.

while the tech analyst did their own digging, the rest of the team went through a box of every case involving families in the state.

it was a painful process, taking seven hours before anyone actually found anything. by then, the conference room was a mess of papers scattered around and empty coffee mugs.

the team narrowed it town to triplets, one girl and two boys. their parents had passed when they were teenagers, the oldest boy gaining custody of them. they were forced to live on their own, fending for each other. they had it out for the bau ever since they denied looking into their case.

besides motive, they owned a ranch a bit further outside of the city. a perfect place to conceal their plans. adding on to the lack of paper trail and trigger, it was more than likely that they were the unsubs.

no one from the bau team was allowed to go on the raid, their emotions could greatly alter the arrest. hotch and morgan led it, accompanied by swat.

instead, they were sent to the hospital. it was inevitable that all of you would need medical attention, it was the best option for them to go and wait, hoping for your safe return.

almost an hour went by without any news.

the team sat in one of the designated waiting rooms, all having some nervous quirk to help calm them down.

with little warning, a flood of doctors and nurses passed the room, a few police officers and swat agents as well. at the end of it all were hotch and morgan, both taking off their kevlar vests as they entered the room.

in an instant, everyone was standing up. emily was the first one to attempt to leave the room. hotch blocked the doorway, using his hand to prevent her from going anywhere.

“hotch what the hell. let me through,” emily demanded.

one flick of the eyes back and forth between the two former agents was all the team needed to raise further questions. it was and has always been a telltale sign that they were either lying or hiding information.

“what aren’t you telling us?”

hotch let out a sigh. the tense silence in the room did nothing for anyone’s nerves.

“we only got four of them.”

☆ ☆ ☆

teaser

tags - @zozoleesi @emxlyprentxss @spencerreidfanatic00 @mrs-dr-reid @irjuejjsaa @ogmilkis @sageellesworth05 @mortallythoughtfulgurl @brainyreid @ah-blossom @kissessforharryyy @ssareidbby @spencersglasses @spenciepoo338 @mggstyles @emilouu @loki-an-idiot @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @pianofirepirate @ssa-morgan @afuckingshituniverse @spencerslatte @reminiscing-writer @kianagilder-blog @ssaic-jareau @theatrenerd101601 @drprettyboyreid @emilyxprentiss

#criminal #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #luke alvez #matt simmons #tara lewis

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ilguna · 3 years

Text

Redamancy - Chapter Three (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, drug use/mention, alcohol use, hints at prostitution and I bend the Capitol to my will.

wc; 9.9k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This morning, you’re up and out of bed without a single complaint. You sit on the bed for a while, staring out the window and watching as the city slowly comes to life. Traffic is light for the first hour or so, but it doesn’t stay like that. You can imagine that everyone is anticipating tomorrow, the last day before the games start.

One breather day before it all goes downhill.

You get out of bed after that, taking your time inside of the shower, mainly trying to find what Annie and Marsh will be like during the interviews. There’s nothing that the Capitol hasn’t seen before, seventy years worth of the Hunger Games--they’ve experienced it all. The most you can do is put a twist on an adjective.

New approaches are always hard, you’re competing with ten to twenty other mentors. Most of them have been at this longer than you have--mainly Haymitch. But to be fair, Haymitch gave up on this whole scheme a while ago. The only thing he does anymore is drink and make a fool of himself on television all the time.

Sad to say, but District Twelve isn’t a threat at all. They didn’t even really post a threat during your games, either. That’s a conversation for a different day, though. You’re not really willing to get into it anymore. Your focus needs to be on helping Annie and Marsh.

By the time you’re dressed and in the dining room, you’ve still come up with nothing. The only other person at the table this morning is Finnick, which is a pleasant surprise. Elysia is always the first and last person out of the dining room. Not to mention, you’re pretty sure she sits out here and waits hours for you guys to appear. It explains why she has the tv on all the time when you get out here.

“Looks like you’ve got an early start going on too.” you say, heading down the steps.

He hums, head dips and then he’s shooting upright in his seat.

“Okay, maybe not.” you stop next to him, grabbing his chin with one hand to make him look up at you. His pupils are dilated, bags beneath his eyes. He looks much older here, not the same guy he was yesterday, “How about you take today off?”

“I’m fine.” he murmurs, moving your hand away, “Just a late night.”

“Go sleep while you can.” you tell him, “Hopefully some of the drugs will wear off by then.”

“They already have, they don’t work anymore.” he yawns, and then moves the plates out of his way so he can rest his head on his arms.

You count in your head how long it takes for him to fall asleep. At five seconds, you get your breakfast, at ten his closed eyes aren’t as tense. When it hits fifteen, his mouth parts and body slumps. He’s out cold by eighteen, nice and steady breaths. It’s going to be a quiet morning after all.

“Can I get something to write on?” you ask the avox.

She gives you a curt nod and disappears. In the meantime, you eat your breakfast and stare at Finnick, who looks like he’s never had a tense moment in his life. The only times Finnick truly looks relaxed is when he’s not awake. As if he’s never been in the Hunger Games, his family isn’t gone, and he’s never worked every night in the Capitol since he turned sixteen.

Your stomach churns, heart squeezing painfully. You try not to frown, but it’s hard not to. A part of you wonders if this is what you look like to your family when you accidentally fall asleep on the couch or in the study, working on paperwork for the boarding school. You’re just a pair of overworked kids, who have never had a peaceful moment since the Hunger Games.

The avox comes back around, you quietly thank her and ask her to clean up Finnick’s plates. She doesn’t disturb him, clearly good at her job. You chew on the inside of your cheek while writing down different adjectives that could describe Annie and Marsh’s personalities right now.

Annie is quiet, she doesn’t speak unless it’s a dire situation or you’ve asked a question. She’s smart and trusting, she can work her way around problems and read into cryptic messages. She’s kind, you’ve seen the way she helps the others in the boarding school, but she’s easily deadly, the way she fights is completely mesmerizing. She’s the last person you’d expect to betray you, which is why she could easily have an advantage over a large alliance. People wouldn’t expect her to sabotage them.

As for Marsh, he’s nearly the opposite when he isn’t feeling anxious. He’s loud, he’ll easily let someone know what he thinks about them, especially if it’s not good. He’s strong, you’ve seen him pick up people twice his weight, but that doesn’t make him a good fighter, exactly. He wrestles pretty well, can get anyone into a position that’ll bring them to tears because of the pain. He smiles a lot, cracks jokes when he can.

You hum lightly, feeling it all come together. Marsh is fun, loud, he can make a show out of the interview. Three minutes would be enough to have the entire audience in stitches. It might even surprise the audience a little, since they always expect the careers to be brooding and quiet, always banking on their training scores. But if Marsh is constantly moving and interacting with the audience, they’ll be taken off guard.

Same thing with Annie, but she isn’t as naturally smooth like he is. She can be friendly and compassionate on stage, the complete opposite of deadly. The Capitol has been holding onto stereotypes for years, and the tributes have been feeding into it. Even you did the same, by promising your family that you’d come home. If Annie just acts as the definition of kind, she’ll be turning it around.

You write this all down, as well as some notes and starter questions that could test their act. You want them to completely avoid conversations about their scores and how well prepared they are. Their scores already say that about them, now it’s time for the citizens to see that they’re exciting.

Around noon, Elysia finally comes through the door. She barely spares you and Finnick a glance at first, but then she pauses on the stairs to take a look at him, “Is he sleeping?”

“Late night, apparently.” you look at her, “I’m ready to get started when you are.”

“Give me a couple of minutes.” she smiles, and then leaves into the hallway.

Unfortunately, this means that Finnick can’t sleep any longer. At least he got a couple of hours while it was possible. You lean against the table slightly, “Finnick.”

He doesn’t move, not even stirring. You wonder what else he took on top of the regular ‘fun’ drugs. Maybe he drank along with it, and knowing the Capitol, it’s not as dangerous as it sounds. You call his name again, but he’s still pretty out of it. A part of you wonders if he’d actually care letting the tributes see him in such a vulnerable state. But if it were you, you’d hope that he’d wake you up.

You slide out of your chair, letting it scrape against the wood floors. You grimace at the thought of touching him to wake him up, you know for a fact that you hated it when your brothers used to do it. It took for that one time when you accidentally went overboard for them to realize that you meant what you were saying about it being a bad idea.

They tried to tell you that you’d never hurt them. But you had to emphasize that it wasn’t you that was waking up first, it’s the scared girl that spent an entire month in an arena that was trying to kill her. She’s going to come out offensive and on the move, you’re going to be right behind her.

Even reminding them about the time someone came up behind you after the games didn’t convince them either. It was right after the Hunger Games too, before the Victory Tour. Some idiot reporter came up behind you as a surprise, and it took half a second before the world went grey and you thought the reporter was the District Twelve boy.

And since in the Hunger Games, the only way to get home is to kill, you nearly murdered the reporter. It would’ve happened if it weren’t for your brothers, who took a hit in the process anyway. If you remember correctly, Mox came out with a bruised rib, which isn’t easy to do considering that he’s pretty much muscle. And you almost broke Reed’s nose, there was blood leaking from it for a good ten minutes afterward.

You guess that they were trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but after a while, you’re just intentionally getting burned, you know? There’s only so much you can do for a person before you need to take their word for it. It’s fine if you’re not perfectly healed just yet. Time does not heal all wounds, some of them will be open forever.

You gently place your hand on Finnick’s back, rubbing it, “Hey, Finnick?” you try your motherly voice, but it still doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe he’s dead.

“Finnick.” you apply more pressure, hearing him take a deep breath.

His arms stretch out beneath him, head slowly raising. You back off, and run a hand through your hair on your way back to your place at the table. Finnick’s got red lines from his clothing across his face, eyes automatically in a squint. His eyebrows push together, looking at your first.

“What time is it?”

“Noonish.” you say, “Tributes are gonna come out in a minute, Elysia is back.”

“You just left me out here?” his nose scrunches.

“No, I actually sat out here the entire time.” you sit in your seat, and then frisbee the notepad across the table for him to look at.

He rubs his face, which is still twisted as he tries to read what you’ve written, “Creep.”

You roll your eyes.

As he reads, Elysia comes out looking more refreshed, “Tributes will be down here in a moment.” she joins you and Finnick at the table, “Am I starting with Annie first?”

“If you want, our plans go either way.” you say, watching as Finnick tilts his head, “What do you think?”

“It’s a twist.” he says, “I’m not sure how they’ll like it, but we can definitely try.”

“Everything’s worth a try nowadays.”

“Can I see?” Elysia asks, Finnick hands it over to her. She reads over it silently, a smile coming to her face as she nods, “Yeah, I think this’ll be good. I’ll try to work that into what we normally do.”

Elysia hands it back to you, Marsh and Annie come out of the hallway. They’re not dressed in anything fancy, not even in something that the stylists have picked out. Normally what the tributes wear are totally up to the stylists, starting from the tribute parade, to the training days, to the interviews. Today is the only day where you’re able to see how they want to be dressed.

Annie’s laid back, a pair of leggings and a loose tank top. She’s got her hair tied back, and gives you and Elysia a polite smile on her way over. Marsh is more casually dressed, jeans, a shirt, a pair of tennis shoes, his hair styled. It says a lot about personality and how they think.

“Good afternoon, hope you guys slept well.” you smile, and then give Finnick a side-eye. He’s not very amused.

“I definitely felt a lot better last night.” Marsh nearly skips down the steps, he’s a lot more confident now, “Since we have good scores, it’s hard to think otherwise.”

He takes his spot at the table, Annie takes hers, “I’m still nervous,” she admits.

You don’t have to say a single thing to her. In fact, Marsh seems to have it all handled this afternoon. He’s definitely had a change of heart. You finish eating, leaving the table to go down to the living room to rearrange chairs and set things up properly. It’s not long until your tributes are full and ready to get started.

“We’re taking Marsh first.” you click the pen, Finnick joins your side.

Elysia guides Annie towards her room, Marsh comes down to where you are. You motion for him to take his seat, which is opposite of the one that you’re sitting in. Finnick takes the role of audience, leaning his head against his fist. He’s got tired eyes, still not awake. You can’t really blame him.

“How do you feel about being in front of an audience?” you ask.

He hesitates, “Is this an interview question?”

“No, not yet.”

“Oh, well…” he thinks for a moment, “I mean, I don’t mind them. The parade wasn’t all that bad. But I think that’s because I was being compared to others, I knew I wasn’t the best or the worst out there.”

You give him a smile, “Well, we’re going for the best here. So, here’s what we’re going to do--”

It’s simple, and Marsh seems to understand it the first time around. No matter what happens on that stage, Caesar shouldn’t ever get the opportunity to make enough tension to ruin the light mood. Marsh needs to be confident, exciting, funny and relatable the entire time.

Which means that if Marsh needs to spend time lining up jokes, then he needs to get to it. You suggest jokes on the expense of District Four--or any of the districts, really--his family if he’s comfortable, and spin it. Make the Capitol look grand and amazing, like kings and queens compared to peasants. However, he needs to be careful not to make him sound sarcastic and overbearing.

There’s a whole list of things that Marsh needs to avoid at all costs; certain family topics, token significance, if he misses home, his training score, what he thinks of the competition, etc. He’s not at all allowed to give the Capitol enough information on him to run with. Tributes in the past have been mysterious, but mentors have combined it with brooding.

Marsh is going to be memorable, fun-loving. Caesar might even reference him in the future when it comes to seeing District Four tributes. What twist will the mentors have to give this year? Stay tuned to see, and if you blink too much, you’ll miss it.

And since it’s not really a coaching lesson without some practice, you and Finnick take turns drilling him. Marsh is clearly a natural at this, he starts off a little stiff, jokes dry and shy smiles. You had to tell him that he needs to stop looking at you as a mentor and as a Capitol citizen who is so unimpressed by how boring he is.

After that, he took it more seriously, and even had you and Finnick cracking up some of the time. Only a few times do you have to remind him not to go too hard on District Four, and how he barely scrapes by with questionable statements about the Capitol. In the end, he’s at a different standing point.

Elysia comes out with Annie, ready to trade. Annie’s flustered, standing at the top of the stairs. She must have done something inside of the room to get scolded, or maybe she was praised? You don’t care, you push Marsh up the stairs and let Annie take a quick snack break before you start the process over.

“Marsh’s interview is going to be a comedy skit.” you tell her once she’s sat down. You and Finnick have switched spots so that he can ask the questions, “We figured that you wouldn’t be as comfortable with a job like that. So, we want you to be as kind as possible.”

Annie’s eyebrows draw in, “If you’re trying to go for unique, you’re going to be failing with me. Plenty of people go for kind.”

“Not the careers.” Finnick says, “Careers always sneak in some aspect of dangerousness. You’re not going to, at all. You got a nine, but Annie Cresta is going to be a kind girl from Four who’s absolutely beguiled by the Capitol.”

A small smile is forming on your face, “You’re going to have to be an actress for three minutes on stage. Do you think you can do it?”

Annie gives a curt nod. Finnick’s smiling now too. You can’t launch straight into the interview, instead you have to give Annie a few pointers beforehand. She catches on quickly, just like Marsh. However, with her, she’s got the act down on lock, she doesn’t even need to be corrected.

And when Finnick alludes to her training score, she easily redirects the conversation somewhere else. Maybe it’s a compliment on the experts inside of the center, or maybe it reminds her about the food she’s eaten! Either way, Annie’s a brick wall, and not even you two can get through to her on the sneakiest questions.

At dinner, Marsh, Annie and Finnick are exhausted, you think that you’re starting to feel it too. Needless to say, it makes for a calm and quiet evening. Annie and Marsh pack it up and head to their rooms around seven, there’s not a single sound that comes from their rooms after.

You sit on the edge of a table next to Elysia and Finnick. You’ve got your arms crossed, Elysia has her fingers perfectly laced in front of her, and Finnick is rubbing under his eye.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” Elysia says, “I think that you two will be able to sleep in and get up later on, since the prep team will have them.”

“We still have to get up with enough time to dress nicely. Sometime in the afternoon, then?”

“That’ll probably work.” Finnick says, you watch as he twists the loose rope on the bracelet into small loops big enough to slip his pinky through.

You tilt your head up towards the roof, eye following the cracks along the ceiling, “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“After the interviews?”

You think you can see a stain on the ceiling, a faint red color, like someone scrubbed the ceiling, “Yeah.” you look back at him.

“No, I don’t think so. The festival knocks out anything that would happen.” His eyes find yours, abandoning the bracelet, “Why?”

Elysia shifts on her feet, “Do you need me for anything else?”

“Uh,” you pause for a moment, thinking. You don’t think so, tomorrow you’ll probably have trouble sleeping past ten, so you’ll be up and doing something. The interviews always have you nervous, no matter how well prepared your tributes are. And as always, this year is no exception, “I don’t think so. I’ll find you if I do.”

She looks at Finnick next, who gives her a slight head shake, “Goodnight, don’t exhaust yourself.”

The last sentence is directed towards you, “Goodnight, Elysia. Thank you for your help today.

She leaves, giving you and Finnick privacy. His eyes are back to being trained on your face. A part of you wonders if you should even bother with an offer like this, you’re sure that he would much rather stay here, or go wherever he used to when the festivities came around after the interviews.

You know you used to shut yourself in your room and be absolutely quiet. Quiet enough to hear every single thing that would happen outside of your door, sometimes extended to the living room if Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy were gathered together. You couldn’t handle it. The night before the games is always the worst, it makes your chest ache at all the second thoughts that had run through your mind.

The what-if scenarios, the thousands of possibilities of what the arena could look like. The different ways you could die. Would it be in the bloodbath after one small mistake? Would it be by the hands of your allies after realizing they were stupid to invite a fifteen year-old to join them? Would it be by your former ally and friend, Finnick, to get you out of the way?

Even trying to project the image of you winning the games didn’t work. You were overwhelmed and anxious and completely unknowing of what your future would be. You didn’t want to end up like all those other kid tributes that end up dead after a few days. You didn’t want to make the same mistakes that you used to make fun of back home.

You can’t imagine how that’s going to go for Annie and Marsh, who volunteered to be here. You know you would be regretting it about now, especially since they’re so close to the cut off age. They could be back home, with their families. But they’re here instead, about to be thrown into an arena to fight for their lives.

This apartment is a cage to tributes, you’re lucky that it doesn’t extend the same way to victors.

“After the interviews, the group and I normally go and hang out around the festival.” you uncross your arms, placing them on the table behind you to lean back, “We eat at a nice restaurant, I normally watch them get drunk. You can come with, if you want.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, face relaxing for a moment. Maybe he thought you were going to say something else? You stop leaning against the table, “You don’t have to go. They’re not your friends, I just thought I’d offer.”

“Why do you go out with them?” he asks, eyebrows drawing in, “You don’t seem like the type to go out there anyway.” he presses his lips together, “Actually, you don’t really intermingle with the Capitol unless you really have to.”

A couple of things come to mind, one by one. The first one is that Finnick has obviously been paying attention to you over the past couple of years. He just gave that away with telling you how your own mannerisms are. However, he clearly doesn’t follow you that closely, because you go out a lot more when you have the time. The other mentors are a getaway when you’re feeling particularly in your head.

The second thing is how his whole demeanor seems to have changed after you told him he didn’t have to. Maybe it’s because you’re backpedaling, but it’s not because you don’t want him there. You know that you’ve been taking up his time over the past couple of days, which has been conflicting with his needy Capitol schedule. You wouldn’t blame him if he just wanted to be alone or something.

The third is how he’s redirected it to you, not answering the question. Normally people will assure you that they’ll go or they have plans before asking you something like this. You don’t want to say he’s getting defensive but it’s hard not to.

Your voice is a lot quieter, a lot softer than you expect to come out, “They’re my friends, Finnick. And they make me feel normal again.” you squint for a moment, and then let out a sigh, “If you don’t want to go, you could’ve just said so. Forget I said anything.”

You slip away, Finnick doesn’t say anything. When you get back to your room, you silently peel off your clothes and get dressed into something more comfortable. You have a feeling that you’ll sleep pretty soundly tonight, considering how exhausted you are. You drop your ring into the small bowl on the bedside table, and then roll over in bed until you’re comfortable.

You wake up a little after ten, but don’t leave your room until eleven. The dining room is empty, your tributes have already eaten and are experiencing their own version of chaos inside of their bedrooms with the prep teams. Who knows where Finnick is, after what happened last night. And Elysia is probably off with Pleurisy and Laurel since she has the free time to, and you told her that you wouldn’t need her at all this morning.

You don’t eat much, a little hung up over how you left things last night with Finnick. It’s hard not to think about it, and the mistake you made with your choice of words. Not only did they come out more mean than you intended, but you’re also pretty sure you just ruined whatever progress you’ve made over the past week.

You don’t know if you can stay inside of the apartment all day today. It’ll still be a few hours before Annie and Marsh are ready to be brought to the stage. Until then, you can just disappear and come back in time to go. You decide to go with this, heading back to your room.

You shower, let the machines take care of your hair. It goes from wet and tangled to dry and smooth. You take your time with styling it, after being with Beth for this many years, you’ve learned a thing or two. A majority of your hair is out of your face, you’ll be sure to let it down later. Sometimes during the interviews, the cameras will pan to the mentors or stylists depending on the question.

You brush your teeth while finding what you want to wear. A pant suit could be nice, but you have a feeling that Laurel is already going to go down that path. Still, you can’t help but to run your fingers over the beige and white fabric. The only other real option you have is a dress, but they’re tricky and there’s certain rules you have to follow when wearing one.

You settle for the suit, carefully putting it together one item at a time. White high-waisted underwear that doesn’t show the seams through the pants, a matching bra. You go with a v-neck white shirt, since it’s not going to be seen after the blazer is buttoned. The slacks just barely stop at your ankles, you pull out new white heels that don’t go super high.

In the bathroom, you think you look sophisticated. You think that you might even keep your hair up the way it is, since it doesn’t really matter anyway. You apply the silver jewelry that you think will go with the outfit, and spare a lot of rings so that you aren’t clunky.

Makeup is the hardest part, so you end up calling Leo to come and help you. He’s impressed with the way you look, and works quickly so that he can get back to Annie. By the time you leave the apartment, you’re practically skipping in confidence. You take the elevator down to the lobby, a place already in mind.

Coincidentally, your friends are already gathered in the lobby. Cashmere notices you immediately, a smile spreading over her face. The others look over too, but Wade isn’t as thrilled as the rest of them. They’re dressed just as nicely as you are, you guess you just caught them on their way out too.

“Hey! Long time no see.” Cashmere greets, you snort and settle between Gloss and Enobaria.

“Hey, what are you guys up to?” you smile.

“Pre-gaming.” Gloss says.

“Pre--huh?” you look between them, they let out a small laugh, “The interviews are that torturous for you guys?”

Enobaria nods, “Yeah, I’m tired of sitting through them.”

“Can’t blame you. So, you’re going out to a bar?”

“Something like that.” Gloss says, “Want to come along?”

You tilt your head, giving him a face, “I am not going to drink.”

“Then don’t!” Cashmere grins, “You coming along is going to be good enough. We’ll be back before the tributes are done.”

“Promise me.” you point at her.

She uses her finger to draw an x over her heart, “I promise.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

They cheer, you laugh and follow behind Enobaria and Wade, making a line with the Ritchson siblings. They place you between them so that you’re more included, and this way they won’t be tempted to fuck with each other. The last time you all hung out before the interviews--or anything important, for that matter--they had to have a last minute costume change because there were rips and dirt smeared everywhere.

Unlike them, you’re wearing light colors, so you’ve got to be extra careful when it comes to touching anything. Gloss and Wade are wearing black, Enobaria’s wearing a dark maroon dress, and Cashmere has got a muted purple dress. You guess that Cashmere’s going to have to be careful too because the purple is kinda light.

They’re all pretty animated, fairly loud when they’re excited. You go along with conversation--which really doesn’t have a range. It can be about Enobaria’s boyfriend drama back home, or how Cashmere had to scold her tributes over their training scores. And since she started that topic, you decided to go ahead and ask questions about it.

“They were supposed to be prepared!” Cashmere rolls his eyes, picking at her nails slightly with a frown, “They told me that they’d been working hard in the gym and I believed them. The one year I try and slack so it doesn’t seem like I have a stick up my ass, and this is what I get.”

You breathe out a laugh.

“I’m serious! The tributes are always calling us names because of how strict we are, and then shit like this happens. It sucks that it takes a problem to prove to people that you’re right.” she looks at you, “Congrats on your tributes scoring nines, though. I can’t imagine how happy you guys were.”

“Extremely.” you say, “It’s fixed how they’ve been thinking for the past week, so thank heavens for that.”

Gloss shrugs one shoulder, you look over to him, “I bet we’ve lost sponsors.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous--” Enobaria glances over her shoulder at you three, “--they could’ve scored ones and they’d still end up with plenty of sponsors.”

“She’s right.” you say, shaking your head, “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be lucky if we even get a couple since we’re not with you guys this year.”

“Which is a bummer, I like hanging out with you.” Cashmere sighs, she twirls a ring of her blonde hair around her finger before letting the curl drop. She looks at you, “We’ll still be friends no matter what happens in the arena, right?”

“Our tributes have killed each other plenty of times, Cashmere. And still, here we are.” you give her a smile, and then share one with Gloss, “You’re my best friends… except for Wade, he’s an asshole.”

He glares over his shoulder, he’s the exception to the group laughter that follows after your statement. It’s his own fault that he’s alienated. You’re half-surprised that he didn’t leave as soon as you showed up at the lobby.

Enobaria leads you all to an expensive bar, you vaguely remember going here before. It was only once, you think. And it’s because of the prices, the alcohol here is strong and expensive. You come here to get drunk, not to dance around the idea of being tipsy. Although, you wouldn’t think that initially.

The entire bar is made up of two colors: a gentle pink color, and pure white. Straight out of some sort of fantasy. And despite its expenses and the fact that it’s the day of the interviews, it’s full of people. For a moment, you’re sure you guys will have to be put on some sort of waiting list, with no empty seats visibly available. But Gloss knows the person at the door, and you all get led to a special room in the back.

Which looks nothing like it does out there. Sleek black couches, dark hardwood floors, minimalistic lamps and succulent plants on tables. There’s one clock on the wall, and absolutely no windows. Enobaria pulls the door shut behind her.

You sit on the second couch, the one that faces the tv better. With you sitting flush against the arm, Gloss sits on the other end. There’s still plenty of space between you two, so you stretch out enough to be comfortable. When you’re done, you’re still not touching him.

Cashmere picks the standing up menu off of the coffee table, flips it open and sits back. Enobaria sits next to her, turning on the television, which is defaulted to Claudius and Caesar. A part of you wonders if the people here watch anything else. They could have hundreds of channels, and yet they default to the news? Wade sits by himself in a distant chair, one leg crossed over the other.

If he’s trying to appear older than he is, all he’s doing is looking like an idiot. It’s going to be hard for him to redeem himself after the show he put on a couple of days ago. Talk about being classy.

“You guys hungry? Looks like they serve food.” Cashmere says, passing the menu to her right, Gloss takes it.

You lean into him, nothing really sparks your interest. Besides, you just ate, “I’m good.”

“Well, I’ll take whatever the hell a ‘Ritchson Siblings’ is.” Gloss says, face scrunching, “Why did they have to use our last name?”

“I bet it’s probably some fruity drink.” You smile slyly, earning glares from both of them. Enobaria’s laughing under her breath.

“I’ll take one too.” Cashmere says, taking the menu from Gloss, and then passes it to Enobaria.

“Do they have a Golding special?” She jokes, and then her eyebrows raise, “Oh shit, do they have all of us? Mine looks like a Bloody Mary.”

You lean forward, hand outstretched, “Give me the menu.”

“I thought you didn’t care.” Gloss teases, you mock him slightly, earning a laugh.

Enobaria hands over the menu, allowing you to get a good look at the menu. At the top is the name of the bar, which explains it all; The Victory Speech. Under it is a fine print on how the drinks are supposed to get you blackout drunk so that you don’t remember anything. And when people get shitfaced, they tend to talk about things they’re not supposed to.

It’s cleverly designed, they switch colors every year. This year’s theme is to support the female victors. When you ask about this, Cashmere says: “Misogyny.” And that practically sums it up.

Anyway, you go down the list. Victors before the fiftieth Hunger Games have a section called ‘Old Timer’s’ because they’re all over the age of sixty at this point. Under this section is Mags and Luther since they’re both pretty old. But it’s vague, and they don’t really name names.

However, after the fiftieth games, it starts with names. Haymitch’s is called ‘Blackout’, and you can’t imagine what that entrails. For all you know, there could be a fucking roofie to ensure you don’t surprise. It probably tastes like literal acid and poison. But knowing the Capitol, they likely found a way to make it taste enjoyable.

Anchor’s is called ‘King of the Sea’ but you also remember people calling it ‘The Sailor’. The drink is twenty different shades of blue, and the foam on top makes it look like the ocean. The ice is in shapes of boats, fish and tridents to make it as appealing as possible.

Enobaria was right about hers looking like a Bloody Mary. It’s blood red, but it doesn’t look like it has tomato juice, more that the alcohol itself is red. The ice in hers is milk white, and you recoil at the thought of it. The title to hers is ‘Bloody Mistake’.

Cashmere and Gloss share their own with ‘Ritchson Siblings’, which isn’t a very fun name, considering all the ones before theirs. If you were to retitle, you think you’d go with ‘Infamous’. The Capitol absolutely loves the hell out of them. Their combined drink is yellow, but it’s shimmery in the picture. And you were right about the fruit, because the fruit is the ice.

And then it’s you and Finnick, separate names and drinks but it’s tied together with a special font that says ‘Complementary!’ and right beside it is a discount offer if you’re ordered together.

His is called ‘Prodigy’, probably a jab at his age when you guys won. It’s completely see-through, you’re not even able to see a chunk of ice in the picture. It comes with a silver trident that sticks out of the cup, blades up. On the end of the points is a lime. The drink is likely brutal if it has an offer of a chaser.

And yours is called ‘Traitor’, which you can’t even be surprised about. It’s clever marketing though, because the appearance is a light blue, with white foam on top. The alcohol is shimmery too, the ice cubes shaped like fish. Sticking out the top is a gummy palm tree, you think. You just know that it’s going to be strong-tasting.

Finally, the last one that you least care about is Wade’s. The moment you read the name of the drink, you’re cracking up. You then remember what his personality was like in his interviews, which was full of intellectually big words to impress the audience and make him look smart. The name is probably the biggest insult, ‘Know-It-All’.

It’s a lime green, there’s chunks of something inside of it, you can’t tell what. Maybe it’s flavored ice? There’s no way to find out unless you actually drink it, and you think that you’d pass. Besides, the name alone is a dead giveaway that this one is going to be strong too. It’s probably a good representation of the whole bar, actually.

“Maybe I will have a drink.” You snort, holding it out for Wade to take. He silently slips it from your fingers and flips it open to read.

“That’s the spirit!” Enobaria says, grinning.

“Oh, great.” Wade rolls his eyes, folds the menu and tosses it on the table, “I’ll pass.”

“Kid needs to learn to loosen up.” Gloss mutters.

“I’ll go and get the drinks.” You push your rings back into place, “What do you guys want?”

“I’ll take my special.” Enobaria says, and Gloss and Cashmere agree on their own. It takes some convincing, but Wade eventually comes around to the idea of taking one of the older victor’s drinks.

You don’t really need to jot it down, so you promise them that you’ll be back in a moment and slip out of the room. The main room is a nice between of loud and quiet. You can hear the private conversations of others, but just barely.

And it seems as if it’s only gotten busier since you first came here. Must be a popular place to go before certain events. You can’t imagine what it’s going to look like after the interviews. Probably packed from front to back, and you can imagine them transforming it into some type of club. It’s got the capabilities of doing so.

You move your hair behind your shoulder, leaning up against the counter while you wait for the bartender to come around. You’re not the first here, and it doesn’t look like you’re going to be the last. If you were to take a guess, you think that The Victory Speech is going to empty out when the interviews come around.

As you wait patiently, playing with one of your rings, you feel a gentle pressure against your lower back, and then feel the presence of someone. Before you can turn, the person is leaning in, “Hey, what are you doing here?” It’s Finnick, and he’s speaking directly into your ear.

You look over your shoulder to see him leaned in close. He’s dressed as nicely as you are, and it looks like you think the exact same way. He’s in a brown suit with a white undershirt. Your eyebrows draw in, one of you will have to change this evening, unless he doesn’t mind matching with you.

You’re about to answer, but your eyes find that he’s got quite the audience that’s watching him. You wonder what he’s here for, and if it concerns any of these people.

Either way, you shrug slightly and try not to be too bothered by where his hand is, “I’m with Gloss and them since they wanted to drink before the interviews.” You give him a little smile, “I’m getting the drinks, do you want to join us?”

Finnick doesn’t answer your question, “Are you sure you should be drinking?” He asks, as if you’re the irresponsible one here. With him avoiding your questions, you must have done something to set him off like this.

Nonetheless, you shake your head, and turn so that you’re halfway facing him. Because of this, his fingers ghost your waist and he has to rethink his hand placement. He goes for your arm now. Why is he so touchy all of a sudden?

“I’m not drinking.” You tell him.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender asks. You give him a smile, listing off the drinks that everyone agreed on. Finnick doesn’t move, patiently waiting. The bartender leaves, but you know that he’ll be back around.

“You should be at the apartment.” Finnick says, there’s a slight frown on his face.

“Doing what?” You ask, face twisting, “Waiting for the tributes to be done? Why aren’t you there?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer, you’re being interrupted. The bartender tells you that a waitress will come around to the back room to give you and the others your drinks. After that, you know for sure that he won’t be coming back.

One last time, you look at Finnick, “Coming or not?”

Finnick watches your face, pressing his lips together for a while, and then says: “Not.”

“I’ll see you later, then.” You say.

His arm drops, allowing you to go. You give him and the crowd one last glance, suddenly feeling weirded out that they’ve watched you the entire time. You get a couple of steps in to leave, and then stop. He said that he didn’t have anything to do today, didn’t he? Or did you only ask for after the interviews?

You turn slightly to see that Finnick hasn’t stopped staring yet. There’s a look on his face that you can’t shake. A secret message? Wordlessly, you find yourself extending your hand for him to take. This seems to be what he wants, face relaxing and fingers gliding against your palm. You squeeze his hand, pulling him along. He needed an escape, that’s why he approached you.

You bring him around to the back, free hand reaching for the doorknob when the door opens. Gloss is at the door, laughing at something the others must’ve said. He gives you a bright smile, “Hey guys.” and moves on without really acknowledging Finnick.

“Heading to the bathroom?” You ask.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute!” He says, and then disappears.

You bring Finnick inside, he gently closes the door behind him. Now that he’s safe in here, you feel comfortable enough to let go of his hand. The other three victors in here are already leaned forward, making comments about what’s happening on the screen.

“Hey, Finnick.” Cashmere says, giving him a quick look, “You’re gonna have to sit on someone’s lap.”

“Gloss.” You and Enobaria say together, immediately laughing afterwards. Even Wade cracks up, rubbing his face slightly.

“I think I’ll pass.” Finnick says, you take a seat in your original spot, and then pat the arm of the couch, “Or you could try and squeeze between me and Gloss.”

He goes ahead and takes the arm of the chair. Gloss comes back a few minutes later with the waitress. She serves the drinks, Gloss pays for it all, and then you’re free to drink and watch the Capitol tv until you want to go.

It turns out that the drinks all taste different, with Enobaria’s tasting sweet with the aftertaste being sour. She ends up liking it enough to keep drinking. Cashmere and Gloss are obsessed with the fact that theirs tastes like cotton candy and french vanilla. The fruit that’s floating in their drinks are miracle berries, which turns anything sour into something sweet and sugary. Wade thinks his tastes like peppermint and chocolate.

You pick up yours, the Traitor, “This is going to be horrible.”

“You don’t know that.” Cashmere says, but even she looks apprehensive.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to drink.” Finnick says, you give him a look and hold up the glass for him to take, “This isn’t what I meant.”

“Too late, you dug your grave.” Enobaria sips on hers, already used to the sour taste.

Finnick sighs and takes a gulp of it. Then, his face twists and he holds out the cup as if there’s something wrong with it. You raise your eyebrows, “What’s the matter?”

“It tastes like saltwater.” Finnick says, and even smells it to make sure.

“Bullshit.” You take a sip of it, and find out he’s right. The salt aspect isn’t all that overpowering, thankfully. But it does taste like water, “Huh.”

You pull out the sour gummy palm tree, taking a bite out of it to find that it’s practically flavorless too. You’d bet all of your money that people tend to mistake the drink for water and that’s how they end up hammered. You smell it too, expecting it to have at least some aroma, but it’s bland. You set it on the coffee table.

“I think that one sip for each of us is enough.” you laugh, Finnick does too.

“It’s probably a painless way to get drunk.” Cashmere says, leaning forward, “Can I?”

“It’ll be you who gets alcohol poisoning.” you motion.

The drink gets passed around, with everyone being surprised that you two weren’t lying about it. By the time it’s back on the table, it’s almost gone. Cashmere shares her drink with you, but you’re very light when it comes to sips. Not because you’re afraid of ending up making a fool of yourself, but because the sugary aspect of the drink is making your teeth and the back of your throat hurt.

While playing games with each other, mostly trying to get to know Finnick more since they don’t know that much about him, you all keep track of the time. The atmosphere inside of the room easily lightens up, Finnick relaxes enough to constantly have a smile on his face. Your mentor friends are charismatic enough to keep a conversation going and to keep it from getting tense.

Even Wade seems to open up too, but you’re fairly sure that it’s his drink that’s making him do it. Either way, you all end up in stitches, red-faced and wiping tears from your eyes. At least you know that Finnick isn’t mad after last night.

“I’ve finished my drink.” Cashmere says, pushing her glass onto the table, “It might be time to go.”

Finnick glances at the clock, you think it’s about thirty minutes back to the Tribute Center, “Yeah, guess so.”

You yawn, stretching your arms. It feels good to stand from the couch after sitting for so long. The others place their glasses in the middle of the table to make it easy for clean up. You dust your clothes off, pick up the door card that’ll say the room is dirty.

“So, was the matching outfits intentional?” Wade asks, leaning against the wall while you wait for the others to be ready.

“Actually no, we’re just psychic.” you give him a slight smile.

“Right.” he rolls his eyes, it’s quiet between you two for a moment as you watch Gloss try and fuck up Cashmere’s dress. She settles for punching him in the middle of his chest, “I’d like to apologize for what I said the other day.”

You look back at Wade, “Just be careful next time. You’re lucky it was me, otherwise you probably would’ve had your shit rocked by some other mentor. They’ve got pent up frustration, and they’d love to have a justified reaction like mine.”

The others start coming your way, you open the door and slip the door card on the outside handle so that a waitress can see that the room needs to be cleaned before it’s used again. You find Finnick towards the back, but end up pulling him to the middle after Enobaria and Wade start to lead you guys out.

You wrap your arm around his, “Let me repeat what I asked last night,” you look at him, “Are you busy tonight?”

His face falls slightly, “I’m not supposed to be.”

“And going to a restaurant might change that.”

“Going out in general, but if we can find a place like this one--with a closed door and a group then it’s less likely.” he frowns, and bites his cheek, looking away.

“Are you going to get in trouble for today?” you ask, he shakes his head.

Outside on the street, you can see that things are beginning to get busy. You don’t let go of Finnick, just in case something does happen. It’s a good thing that you’re with others, though, because again, they easily lighten the mood and have you guys giving soft smiles and some comments if it’s really needed.

You all have to split up in the lobby. You give gentle hugs and wish them good luck with their tribute’s interviews. Gloss and Finnick have their own kinda moment, which you quietly joke with Cashmere and Enobaria about.

“You’re lucky that Gloss doesn’t have a crush on you, otherwise he would have challenged Finnick for the alpha male status.” Cashmere says a little too loudly, which earns a nasty glare from him. Cashmere initially suppresses her laughter, but you crack up and it’s all over.

You and Finnick take the elevator up, deciding not to change what you’re wearing and just be matching for one night for nostalgia’s sake. You make it back just in time, with Elysia coming out of the apartment, face lighting up when she sees the two of you. She quickly readjusts some stuff on the two of you, but stands off to the side in the end to wait.

Marsh comes out with his team first, dressed in navy blue and black. He gives you guys a bright smile, and then laughs slightly, “You guys twinning on purpose, or--?” He trails off slightly, but it only lasts a second before he’s laughing, covering his mouth. You and Finnick must’ve had the same reaction.

Annie comes out a couple of minutes later, wearing a seashell pink dress. The bottom of it is layered so that it resembles the inside of a shell, with spiked shoes and pearls wherever the prep team could fit them. She shines in the light, and the red on her cheeks is to exaggerate blush.

“Absolutely stunning!” Elysia starts, which triggers the other prep team to follow in her suit. You give an approving nod to Laurel, who gives you a slight smirk.

“You two matching on purpose?”

“For fuck’s sake--” Finnick breathes out a laugh, punching the elevator button.

“I think there’s time to change.” Laurel says.

“We’re good, thanks.” you shake your head, heading inside of the elevator.

One by one, everyone crowds in. Five prep team members, Laurel and Pleurisy, Elysia, you and Finnick, and Annie and Marsh in front. Elysia presses the button to bring you all down to the base floor. All the tributes are already lined up against the wall, dressed in their own fancy ways.

You stop the tributes a little bit out of the elevator, “Look at me.” they do, Finnick stops beside you, “You’re amazing, your act is unique, you’re going to blow away the competition. There’s no doubt about it, so don’t even worry. If you two get nervous, we’re all in the crowd. Find your favorite and talk to them like they’re your best friend. Got it?”

They both nod, and you give them a smile, straightening up. Finnick speaks next; “Just remember that you’ve already shown them you’re good at fighting. Now it’s time to show them that you’ve got a winning personality, and you do.”

“Take deep breaths, guys. You’ll do fantastic.”

Sitting in the crowd with the rest of the Capitol is always a weird feeling. You cross your legs and lace your fingers together while you wait for the room to fill. They’re always going to be nervous, it’s just what they do with it that matters the most.

“Do you guys know any restaurants that’ll have closed doors?” Finnick asks, leaning over.

You give him a look, “Finnick, we’re victors. All you have to do is whisper it and they’ll get us a private room. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He smiles, “As long as you promise.”

The tributes come onto stage, allowing everyone to get their first looks at the competition. Some tributes are dressed more expensively, others are loose and laid back. Annie and Marsh are pretty much the standard when it comes to dressing up for the interviews. They represent their district in some aspect while also looking like themselves.

Caesar starts off with a few jokes to get the crowd in their regular mood, and then he’s introducing the girl from District One. You silently pick apart their personalities, she’s sexy and dangerous, and the boy isn’t as smooth when it comes to instincts. He nearly trips over a small crack in the stage, it’s a dead giveaway why he scored so low.

The girl from Two is bright, with big smiles and animated talking. She seems genuinely interested in conversation, you’d like to say that she’s going for a nice aspect, which will totally flip inside of the arena. The boy is brooding and quiet, hardly opening up at all. He’s absolutely huge too, bigger than Finnick for sure.

District Three isn’t all that important, they’re geeky, shy and stutter a lot when they try and answer. When Annie is introduced, she gives a cute smile and stops next to Caesar, and from the very beginning of her interview to the very end, she’s got the Capitol absolutely wrapped around her finger. So much so that the tributes behind her are rolling their eyes, fed up with it. At the very end, she curtsies and gracefully takes her seat, crossing her legs and leaning back smugly.

Marsh walks up with a wave and a grin. His first few jokes don’t land properly, but it doesn’t discourage him. His eyes find you and Finnick, you give him an encouraging smile. After that, he seems to find his footing, eyes occasionally coming back to you two if he needs reassurance. Once again, he’s swept the entire audience away, they want more when his time is up.

When he sits down next to Annie, he holds his fist out, and she bumps hers against his.

The end of the interviews come around quickly, and since neither of them have allies, they don’t have a reason to mull around the floor talking to others. You give Cashmere and them a wave before the elevator closes, and then suddenly everyone’s buzzing all at once over your tributes.

Annie immediately flushes red, Marsh taking all the compliments like a champ. There’s assurance that they’ll be remembered for a while because of their acts, and how there’s absolutely no way that they didn’t gain traction. Tonight, the attention is probably placed on them and their new perspective on interviews.

Dinner is loud and lively. Tonight’s meals are delicious and filling, but you and Finnick eat scarcely because you’ll be eating out with Enobaria and the rest of them in an hour or so. The avoxes bring out a giant three tier cake modeled around District Four. When Elysia takes the first slice, candy pearls fall out of cake, all varying colors. You guys go ahead and watch the interviews one last time, pointing out details you hadn’t noticed before and cracking up at Marsh all over again. Needless to say, they’re pretty proud of what they’ve done today.

Annie and Marsh part with whatever tokens they want inside of the arena. Laurel, Pleurisy and the prep teams hug them goodbye. Although, the stylists will be the only people seeing them tomorrow. You, Finnick and Elysia are left with the tributes, and you have a faint sense of deja vu. You’ve been here plenty of times before, after interviews with two tributes that you’re too fond of.

But unlike before, these two are special pearls.

Elysia is the next to say goodbye, eyes a little watery like they are every year. She’s not allowed to wish them good luck, or say anything nice. She mutters out the insult that she’s required to say, and then disappears into the apartment.

It’s up to you and Finnick to finish off strong.

“We’re on your side.” you tell them, “We’re always working behind the scenes to pull strings. Look for hidden meanings in things.” you fidget with the engagement ring, “You can always change your mind when it comes to allies. The careers offered you a place the other day, but we turned them down. You can use that to your advantage, if needed.”

“If you find yourself in sticky situations, act on your instincts and worry about the repercussions later.” Finnick says, “Sometimes it’s better that way, but not all the time. If you’re unsure of anything, it won’t hurt you to change. Whether that be eating, drinking, finding a place to stay--any of that. If a situation feels weird, then it is weird.”

“Find water first.” you say, opening your arms. Annie’s the first to take the hug, you squeeze her shoulders tightly, “Remember, these are your games. You decide the outcome here.”

You hug Marsh too, “Go to bed, order herbal tea if you have trouble falling asleep. You’ll need every wink you can get.”

“Thank you for everything.” Annie says.

“Thank you.” Marsh echos.

You give them a smile, “Thank me when you come back.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marsh jokes, him and Annie go up the stairs and to their rooms.

You let out a deep breath of air, pressing the heel of your hand to your head, “There was so much more to say.”

“It’s okay, (Y/n). You said so yourself, they’re smart.” Finnick elbows you slightly.

“I know.” you calm yourself slightly, and then stand up straight, “Alright, let’s go before they think we’ve ditched them.”

“Can’t wait to have a second dinner.” Finnick snorts.

“Get ready to pop some buttons.” you grin cheekily, “And maybe make a fool of yourself.”

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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yn-dreamlife · 4 years

Text

My Hero

Mirio Togata x reader

Quirk: emotions; you can feel others emotions and project your own onto others around you, in dire situations you can even shut your own emotions off.

Description: Sir Nighteyes death not only changed Mirio but also your relationship, but are you just being oblivious or did he really mean what he said that day?

Warnings: Fluff, low-key angst, cuteness, nicknames

I sighed as I looked at the man in-front of me. The man I loved, once so happy and full of light and now... faded. He smiled still of course but, it was dimmer and more often than not fake. Im sure others have noticed but none of them like I have, how could they? I’m his girlfri- his EX girlfriend. A thought the still broke my heart.

But that didn’t mater any longer, he was still my friend, just like he promised. He was always there and gave me the space I needed after the break up. But of course I would never allow that for more than a day at most, he had just lost Sir Nighteye, the man he looked up to the man who was like a father to him, wether he told me or not doesn't matter. I knew that was true, that that was how he felt about him.

And now I watch him talk down to himself saying so many horrible untrue things. “Lemillion? Ha you could barely save one girl, you didn’t deserve your quirk its good it was taken away-”

“Togata-san!” I called out as he hadn't answered me previously calling him. His head quickly snapped up to me as he wiped his tears. I shook my head cupping his cheek. “Why do you speak so lowly of yourself?”

“Because I deserve it! I’m not a hero, I was never going to be! I let Eri go, it’s my fault that Sir is dead!” He cried moving my hand away from his face harshly.

I let it drop to my side limply as I activated my quirk. Letting the calm peace I always felt around him seep into him. “Mirio-san you know that isn't true.”

“But how can I be a hero without a quirk?!” He said frustrated but he slowly calmed down.

“You already are.” I whispered and he scoffed softly. “You are Mirio-san, to so many people. But most importantly your m- I mean your her hero.”

He looked up at me then, “hers?”

I smiled as I held my hand out to the side gesturing to the person he couldn't see because she was hidden by a wall. “Eri-chan~” I cooed softly to the girl.

She walked out quietly and grabbed my hand I could feel her calm aura as she took my hand which pleased me, I’m glad Mirios earlier distress didn’t upset her. But I made sure to use my quirk once again to radiate the happiness I felt by her being here outwards into the two people around me.

“Hello” she said softly.

“Eri-chan!” Mirio said happily and moved and pulled the small girl into a hug, a gesture she had become more adjusted to the longer she was around people like me and him. She was still working on smiling and embracing others back but we slowly got there.

It took a lot of work from all parties. “But I thought Aizawa-sensei said she had to-” he began but I stoped him.

“ah ah ah none of that, Eri-chan is perfectly fine. Besides with me around everything is fine! you forget you may be part of the top three but I’m the number four student in our school for a reason!” I said smiling as I did my signature two finger salute making sure to add a small flourish of my wrist knowing it made Eri feel happier even if she still couldn't express it.

A quirk of my own quirk, it pays of being able to feel her emotions as well as to radiate my own.

“Our quirks are compatible, hers being largely tied to her emotions and mine being well, emotions.” I said shrugging with a smile. I saw the tension leave his shoulders, just like the moment she stepped out from behind the wall. I even thought maybe there was a hint of light back in his eyes... just maybe.

“So I got special permission from the hospital and the school so I have the day off to take her out and I want you to come with! Nothing to out there like I know you usually like, but Tamaki did give me a few great ideas!” I said beaming at him glad I could come up with a plan.

Mirio smiled then and we set off to go about our fun outing with Eri. We first took her to a small market and her eyes absolutely glowed when we found the fruit stand, I never thought I would see someone get so happy over an apple.

So I quickly bought her one and it was worth every last scent once I bought her a whole bag just to see that smile, money wasn't always the easiest thing to come by for my family but I knew if she asked I would gladly buy her the world.

As we where walking through the little market I was happy to see my thoughts where correct. It was mostly empty due to it being the middle of a Wednesday morning. There was a slight chill but that changed once Mirio placed his scarf around me.

“Here, I can see your shivering.” He said smiling at me his blue eyes sparkling closer to what they used to.

My cheeks burned red but I shook it off, “t-thank you.” I stuttered. As we continued walking I saw the Ramen shop me, him and the other members of the top three used to go to. Instantly I had an idea.

“Eri-chan,” I said smiling down at the girl who's eyes practically glowed in wonder at the market. She looked up at me waiting for me to continue “Have you ever had Ramen?”

At the mention of his favorite food Mirio perked up, “Ramen? Oooo I love Ramen!” He said happily.

Eri shook her head, “No but I would like to try it if Lemillion likes it.” she said and I smiled at her as I grabbed her hand as well as Mirios out of habit. But as if I had been burned I quickly ripped my hand away from him.

“S-sorry.” I stuttered quickly about to go into a fit of apologies, an old habbit I had broken thanks to our relationship but had fallen back into since it had ended.

“No need, its alright.” He said grabbing my hand, I smiled widely. We went into the Ramen shop ordering all of our food, Eri getting the same thing as me but Mirio and her ended up sharing quite a bit anyways, it was safe to say this food would be a new favorite for her.

And after a long day walking around secluded parts of our city it was time to return home. You three walked back to UA without thinking, after all Mirio and you had called it home the past few months but he faltered upon entering.

“Oh,” he let out a slightly nervous chuckle, “guess I actually go back to my own house huh?” I looked down sadly not ready for the day to end.

I came up with an idea and quickly smiled, “Well im sure the rest of the big three would love to see you!”

The thought of his best friends caused him to smile as well, “Yeah you’re right! I can visit them!” he said sounding slightly shocked.

“You always sound so shocked when I come up with a good plan” I said as I bumped his arm playfully as I smiled.

Out of habit he pinched my cheeks, “Aw can't help it sunshine you're always surprising me!” I basked in the familiarity of the intimate actions but it was quickly ruined as he snatched his hand away. “I-i’m sorry y/l/n-san!” He said quickly bowing I went to reassure him but before I knew it he had hugged Eri said his goodbyes and took off running.

I sighed willing the tears in my eyes away knowing I needed to keep composure for Eri. You smile at her, and it is only tinted with sadness, as you hold a hand out to her. She takes it in her smaller one and squeezes it gently. Its a moment or two of silent walking before she shockingly speaks up first.

“Do you love Lemillion?” She asks softly you look at her shocked, how did she know about that? Of course you all had expressed your love to her but no child should truly be able to understand it enough to pick it up from people who don't blatantly show it.

You wanted to hide it and say no but you never lied to her before so you wouldn't start now, you answered with a simple yes.

“Then why don't you guys kiss and hold hands all the time?” She asks softly.

“well because we-we can't anymore.” You stutter shyly, shocked she even knew of such actions. But you scolded yourself reminding you she was quiet, not dumb.

She seemed greatly confused by your answer, “But why not?”

“Well you see thats a thing couples do and Mirio-chan and I are no longer together romantically.” You stated trying to simplify it.

“Why?” She asks again. Oh ever the child with her curiosity. But this stopped you, you paused mid step and just stood thinking.

Why in-fact did you two break up? You remember driving at the hospital after the attack to find Mirio alone in his room crying, you had heard about his quirk and Sir Nighteyes death so you quickly ran to him pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry m-” but he cut you off.

“Sunsh-” he paused “y/n, we need to talk.” Instant dread filled your stomach. Why would he use your first name? Had something happened and the doctors and Mr. Aizawa didnt inform you about?

“O-okay Mirio, you know I’ll listen.” He tried to speak but closed his mouth, repeating this process several times. “It’s okay take your time.” You cupped his cheek but he shook his head removing your hand as his eyes turned steely and determined.

“I’m breaking up with you.” He said seriously.

“W-what?” The word left as noting but a whimper, “Mirio thats not funny stop joking around.” but I felt it, the determination, the coldness. Things I had never felt aimed my way from him.

“I’m serious. I’m breaking up with you, we are no longer dating we will now be friends, nothing more.” You wanted to protest to scream at him to stop this nonsesne to say it was just the grief but you didnt. You nodded your head doing the thing you hated most.

You shut down your emotions, a power only you had. But this was the only way you could be near him without breaking. “No y/n I need you to leave. I don't want you shutting yourself down.” He spoke as I tried to sit down on the chair.

I stood up then looking to the door, “fine... but im going back tomorrow and theres nothing you can do to stop me, you're my friend,” you looked at him then allowing the smallest emotion through a cracked smile, “I’m not leaving you alone in this.” He nodded and with that you left. You weren't looking and bumped into something.

Looking up you say your favorite loud yellow haired teacher as well as your favorite much quieter black haired teacher.

“Hey hey little listener whats going on?” Instantly you collapsed into him and broke down sobbing, Mr Aizawa removing your quirk so his overly emotional friend didn't get sucked down into the void of your despair with you. After a moment or so he left to go and visit Mirio knowing what the source of your pain was thought the sobbed attempt at an explanation you gave to Present Mic.

You then looked back to Eri and answered truthfully. “I dont know.” I whispered, “I suppose because he no longer felt the same way he did for me before, he had been though a lot of grief and pain its only natural for feelings to change.” I said to her as I tried to keep walking but now she stopped.

“But Lemillion loves you too why would you not be?” You chuckle at her and before you can dismiss her she continues. “he looks at you like Uravity looks at Deku.” At this I stopped walking again, It was very clear the feelings those two held for each other, could she be telling the truth?

“She's right you know?” I hear a deep voice behind me and jump as I throw a punch out behind me.”Woah!” I now realize the man holding my fist is Mr. Aizawa and I immdeatly apologize but his chuckles stops me. “You’re good kid, almost got me and that doesn't happen very often.” he paused “But she is right he does still care for you. While you where crying with Mic I went to him he was... in less than ideal shape.”

“Sensei with all due respect, of course he wasn't in good shape he just lost a father figure and his quirk.” I said as I now picked up Eri to calm her down from my sudden outburst of movement. She cuddled into my neck with a soft hum.

“And he lost his biggest support system. I know you've noticed how he’s been and unlike most I have as well, believe it or not I observe quite a few things. Like how your grades are slightly slipping and you’ve been staying up later and later and how you’ve been zoning out in class.”

I stared at him mouth agape, “H-how?”

“I care y/l/n. I care about all my students wether I admit it or not.” he paused “repeat that to anyone and they'll call you crazy.” I nodded my head smiling and then slowly realized everything he said.

“He loves me.” I muttered to myself. “He loves me!” I said louder. Eri looked at me and I saw a small smile on her face.

“yes he does.”

“I-I have to go!” I said frantically. Eri leaned forward moving into Mr. Aizawas arms.

“Hurry up now. He needs you,” I ran off not even worried about Eri knowing she was in good hands with Mr. Aizawa. “Now more than ever.” Aizawa whispered as he watched her run off thanking him.

Bonus of this scene:

“come on Eri ill take you back.”

“Thank you dad.”

“... you’re welcome.”

*brushes away tears of happiness from cuteness* Anywho back to the story ~Author-chan (no one ever calls me that :( )

As I ran towards the dormitories tears welled in my eyes. I was still so confused and still hurt, why did he leave me?

“Togata-san!” I yelled as I got closer, in my distress moving instantly to his surname. “Mirio-san!” I yelled again when I got no response. I now could see him talking to my other two best friends but I didnt care as I continued to run.

“Mirio!” I yelled. I now saw him spin around and begin sprinting towards me.

“Y/n?! Y/n whats wrong? Are you hurt?!” He asks frantically as he takes my face into his hands turning it each way. I nod my head. “Who hurt you?” He practically grows out.

“Y-you.” I whimper wrapping my arms around him. I feel him tense.

“M-me?” I nod my head. “Wha-what did I do?” He asks pulling away and wiping my tears.

“Y-you left me.” I cried and his face dropped again. “Why? Why did you leave me? Did you not think I would be good for you anymore? Did I do something wrong?” He continues trying to wipe my tears before stopping and giving up.

“I-I thought you deserved someone better, someone with a quirk like Tamaki.” He whispers looking down, “I thought you wouldn't like me anymore because I cant protect you.”

“Mirio you idiot I haven't liked you for years.” I whispered but he didnt look shocked because he could feel what I was about to say it seeped out of every pore of my body, “I’ve always loved you.” I whisper.

“But you loved me when I was Lemillion!” He said quickly and I shook my head.

“No I didn’t, I loved you as Mirio Togata, and then as Lemillion. And you always forget this,” I whisper I pull his head down placing his forehead on my own, “You might not be a hero but you’ve always been mine, just you Mirio. Not Lemillion, just you.”

“y/n I know I hurt you and I don't deserve it but please,” he cupped my cheeks pinching them slightly “please be my sunshine again.”

I laughed showing him a bright smile “You act like you had a choice.” And with that I pulled him into a kiss enjoying the feeling I had been missing these past few weeks.

“I love you.” He whispered against my lips.

“And I love you.”

#mha #mha x reader #big three #mha mirio togata #Mirio #Mirio x reader #Mirio togata x reader #Lemillion #Pro-hero #angst #fluff #mha angst #mha fluff #mirio fluff #mirio togata #togata mirio x reader #togata mirio

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

Arranged marriage viking AU edition but make it Xisang I know you want it 👀

b i t c h. You know me too well. I basically kinda ignored the prompt and went for my own thing (prompt: Person A is traded to the Vikings for safe passage and is subsequently married to the jarl’s oldest child, Person B). They’re not viking (sadly I checked, and that would have been unlikely)

Also on AO3

"I think he said brother," Lan Xichen pointed out, trying to help.

This, of course, earned him a nasty glare from Su Minshan, who never liked to have his competence challenged, and from Lan Qiren, for aggravating their translator when they were in such a dire situation already.

"Those languages don't always differentiate well between genders," Su Minshan explained. "But of course he meant sister, since he's asking for a husband to marry into his tribe."

Unconvinced by that explanation, Lan Xichen glanced toward the king of the Nie people, who seemed mildly annoyed at their reaction to his offer… Or perhaps amused? He was a hard man to read. King Nie Mingjue was an impressive man, all the more so because he had ambushed their little group quite easily with his horse-riding warriors. He could have easily killed them all in their sleep, and would have been in his right to do so since they had entered his territory in secret. He had looked ready to do just that, in fact, but Su Minshan had hurriedly explained why they were there, and managed to placate the terrifying barbarian.

"It wouldn't be a bad deal," one cousin of Lan Xichen's father noted. "Right of passage in the future, and if we give them someone clever, he might give us inside information in the future. I pity whoever will marry one of those shrews and give her half breeds, but even those will have their use in the future."

A few eyed darted toward Su Minshan, who pretended not to notice. Although he claimed to be of full Han origin and professed great disdain for foreigners, he had still spent most of his childhood among barbarians, and spoke a few languages of the area. He apparently made a decent living as a guide, but it was said he was saving money to move away from the border and open a shop in the capital, where his past might not follow him.

While the older men argued for and against the deal offered to them, Lan Xichen looked again toward the barbarians. This time, more than the intimidating Nie Mingjue, he observed the young man at his side, a frail boy hardly younger than himself. He did not look like a warrior, but a few times already he had whispered things to Nie Mingjue’s ear that the king seemed to have taken in consideration. In fact, Lan Xichen was almost certain that he'd come up with that idea of demanding a groom for the king's sibling (the king's brother, Lan Xichen knew he'd heard right).

Right then, the young man was listening intently as the merchants discussed the offer, his smile growing more and more entertained, almost as if…

"I think we shouldn't speak so loud," Lan Xichen remarked. "That one, next to the king… I think he understands us."

The older men glanced at the boy, and immediately scolded Lan Xichen for bothering them with nonsense. Certainly the young man didn't look nearly as impressive as the other warriors, so it was easy to think him unimportant.

Still, Lan Xichen shivered when the young man suddenly winked at him before turning to king Mingjue who leaned toward him, and nodded to whatever the boy told him. Then, confirming all of Lan Xichen's suspicions, the king spoke again.

He spoke, and pointed right at Lan Xichen.

"We want that one," Nie Mingjue announced, which Su Minshan promptly translated.

This sparked a new debate within their group, more heated than before. Lan Qiren had been in favour of accepting the demand, but only until his own nephew was requested as a sacrifice. At the same time, most of the others were suddenly more open to the idea now that they didn't have to fear losing their freedom to go live with some backward barbarians.

As for Lan Xichen himself, he wasn't sure how to feel about this. What he knew, though, was that their family would make a fortune if they could cut through the Nie kingdom to trade with the west. He knew also that he had no previous engagement to tie him down at home, and that he had a younger brother who could continue their line and take over their father's business. No matter what he may or may not have wanted, Lan Xichen knew there was only one possible answer when his uncle asked him his thoughts.

"I'll do it," he said, keeping his voice as devoid of emotion as possible. "If it can help our family, I don't mind taking on this hardship."

As he said this, Lan Xichen couldn’t help looking at the boy next to the barbarian king, who smiled without waiting for Su Minshan’s translation.

Lan Xichen shivered again.

Nobody noticed though. His uncle, helped by Su Minshan, had started negotiating the finer details of this possible agreement, demanding guarantees. Lan Xichen felt rather touched when his uncle insisted that there would have to be proof of his good treatment. The barbarian king, in turn, had demands of his own to make, notably to demand taxes and determine how many people he would allow to traverse his territory. The talks went on and one for hours, from sunrise to mid-afternoon, until at last both parties were satisfied with what they would be getting.

Lan Xichen was hugged by his uncle, and by some of his other relatives as well. What few belongings he’d brought on this journey were handed to him, with the promise they would try to send him his books and other things once they made it home. Then, with very little ceremony, Lan Xichen was offered a horse by the Nie and rode off with them. It all happened so fast that he didn’t even have time to feel scared or sad, and his horse turned out to be so unruly that he didn’t have time for self-pity, lest he be thrown off in front of those barbarians.

He only had a shaky grasp of their language, having learned from the employee of another trader, but he was half sure he’d heard them bet he would fall. He wouldn’t give them that pleasure.

The sun was starting to set when at last their group reached what appeared to be a city of tents. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, Lan Xichen might have allowed himself a moment to be impressed. He had never imagined the Nie people could be so numerous. Although they were known to be fierce warriors, and even raiders on occasions, they were rarely seen in groups of more than twenty of thirty, so it was speculated there had to be few of them. This city, though, looked nearly as big as the one where Lan Xichen’s family lived. He would have to let his father know when he’d write home.

After riding so intensely, and for this long, Lan Xichen’s back was starting to hurt and when he hopped down from his horse, he nearly fell, his legs too tired to carry him anymore. He was only saved from that humiliation because someone caught him in time.

That might have been worse than just falling, because the person who caught him and helped him stand was that boy he had noticed at Nie Mingjue’s side. The young man, who turned out to be even shorter than he had appeared to be while on a horse, was also much slimmer than expected, most of his bulk coming from his clothing rather than from his body. And yet, even like that, he was holding Lan Xichen upright with great ease, as if he weighed nothing at all.

“You no fall,” the young man said with a smirk. “If hurt, how wedding?”

Hearing this, Lan Xichen was startled enough that he pushed himself away from the young man, stumbling against his horse and clinging to its saddle to keep standing. Around them, this display got them a few curious looks, as well as some laughter, but Lan Xichen ignored it all. Although his vocabulary seemed lacking and his accent was atrocious, there was no doubt possible: that young man spoke his language.

Seeing him so shocked, the young man’s grin widened. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the approach of king Nie Mingjue who threw Lan Xichen an unimpressed look. If the young man was shorter than expected, then Nie Mingjue turned out to be a giant of a man, towering over Lan Xichen who wasn’t used to ever seeing people taller than him. He did not much care for the sensation of being small. He also did not like the disdain in Nie Mingjue’s voice as he started saying something which the small young man clumsily translated.

“King says, be good. No take thing. No hurt horse. Need thing, ask. No leave. Important, you…”

The young man stopped translating for a moment as he and all the others burst out laughing over something their king had said. With appalling familiarity, the boy slapped king Nie Mingjue’s arm, which only made the terrifying man roll his eyes.

“King say, be good husband for sister,” the young man explained. “Funny. King has not sister. King has brother,” he announced, proudly patting his own chest. “Good husband. Tonight, you rest, you prepare. Tomorrow, wedding. Good?”

Stunned by that revelation, Lan Xichen’s eyes jumped a few times between king Nie Mingjue and the young man who claimed to be related to him. He failed to see any resemblance between the two, save for what a similar hairdo and style of clothing might cause. The low light didn’t help of course, but Lan Xichen still suspected that a prank was being played on him.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Huaisang. You Ziqen?” Huaisang inquired.

At least, Lan Xichen thought his name was Huaisang. Considering how his own name was being butchered, it was difficult to be sure.

“Xichen,” he confirmed. “Lan Xichen. Is… Is the wedding really going to be tomorrow?”

Huaisang enthusiastically nodded, while Lan Xichen could only feel apprehensive. Aside from the fact that he didn’t know what to expect, hurrying like this meant that they couldn’t check if the day would be auspicious for it or not. Not that it would have helped to have time, he realised with growing anxiety. There was no way this future husband of his would know his own eight character, so it would be impossible to do things properly. But anyway, an union like this, wasn’t it inauspicious by nature?

“Tomorrow wedding, Ziqen,” Huaisang repeated. “Today, you prepare. Happy day! Huaisang, good husband. Many horse. Good to Ziqen.”

Clearly delighted at the prospect of their marriage, Huaisang turned to his king and started cheerfully chatting with him, while Nie Mingjue nodded here and there, sometimes barking orders at some of the men around them who diligently ran off to obey. Maybe they really were brothers, even if they didn’t look anything alike. At the very least, it was clear that Huaisang had to be someone close to king Nie Mingjue, since he treated the giant with such playful familiarity.

It made Lan Xichen suddenly miss his own brother, whom he would most likely never see again. His father, though the man was rarely around. It made him miss his uncle too, though that sentiment was quickly drowned out by resentment toward Lan Qiren for having sold him off so easily, just for a chance at profit. Of course Lan Xichen himself had agreed to it, and they’d had little choice when surrounded by heavily armed barbarians, but it still would have been nice if his uncle had at least pretended to be a little more concerned over his safety.

Of course, it was too late for regrets now.

At least his soon-to-be husband wasn’t too ugly, for a barbarian.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #still on break but hnnnng that prompt hit JUST the right spot so I got a burst of inspiration #veraverorum #Nomad nie

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cleacourgette · 3 years

Text

Secret Santa

Summary:

“Sometimes he’s at the beach. Maybe he found out its a good place to meditate. I know I do. And whatever it was that upset him, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @faerielleart Hope you enjoy. I know you like and wanted the fluff stuff. I hope this is cute enough for you. <3

A cloud of smoke caressed his face, the smell of it wasn’t too bad, but of course his choice would always fall on tea, coffe was much too strong and bitter. Tea, now that was delicate and soothing. But the situation called for him to bring a large cup of strong coffee to his commander. It honestly didn’t take long to get used to her being the commander. It was harder to accept Erwin had died, than Hange being the commander. But she was a lot harder to take care of.

He left her room last night, with her sitting at the desk, piles of papers and a small warning to go to bed soon, or he would drag her ass across the floor to sit on that cursed bed to rest. He had a feeling the his threat would do close to nothing. It was a habit of hers to ignore all of his requests, no matter how dire the situation may be. Her well beying wasn’t a priority for her. But it was for him.

The tray was heavy on his numb arms, coffee, bread, butter and jelly, milk a whole lot of things they weren’t used to have daily, was now a constant. The trading and commercialization was fruitful, and all thanks to her. His commander.

Leaning his weight against the door, he was able to easily open it, she didn’t even bother to actually close it, it was just as he left it yesterday. When he saw her, he wasn’t surprised. Angry obviosly, but not surprised.

“Ya really enjoy to fucking burn my pacient. Don’t ya?” His voice startled her, making her jump a little in her place. When she turned to look at him, he saw the heavy circles around her eyes, the redness in them, the mess her ponitail became. Her lips were dry and chapped when she opened her mouth with tired smile to say. “Good morning Levi.”

“No.”Visibly angry, he started. “God damn it Hange, yer gonna hill yerself this way. It aint funny, ya god damn imbecile.” The tray was dropped on the desk, milk and coffe spilling from their respective containers, just enough to soak the bread. Now he made a mess because of her and his patience ran shorter even “This has to end! Ya need to rest and eat like a normal human being!” He was up close to her face, a vein popping out of his forehead, eyebrows digging deep, and she could swear she could hear him snarl.

The faint smile she tried to wear was slowly fading when he started yelling. Now all she was wearing was a surprised expression with the dark circles even more dark and deep. She sighed, taking her hand to rest on her temple, rubbing it a little. Again, he was so annoying with his constant worry for her, his constant yelling to take a shower, to eat, to not bother so much. How could she not? She was the commander. “I don’t have time for this Lev--”

“Yer right!” He interrupted. “Ya don’t have time for this, because yer getting yer ass on that bed right now. And I don’t wanna hear ya complain anymore.” He turned around, reaching for her messy bed, touching the sheets. Harsh, yes, he was alreayd harsh, but this was the only way to get to her. It was the only way to make her rest, by forcing her. Good for him, he had no issues in actually be forcefull.

Her mouth was hanging open, her brows started to sink forrowing, manifesting her frustartiong. This work was important, she was close to something here, something for the well beying of everyone, she really did not have the time for this. Its ridiculous how this became a daily topic between them.

Erwin made her the resposible one for them now, he trusted her. And she only wanted to do her best to fullfil his wish. He couldn’t have died in vain. Sure she needed to rest, but they needed her to be a commander. And Levi just didn’t understand the weight of her responsibility.

“Get out of my room.” She said in a low voice, but high enough for him to hear. He perked up, kind of amused at her sad attempt to face him on this discussion.

“We’re not discussing this anymore, Hange. Yer going to rest. Yer a fucking mess right now”

“I told you to get out of my room, right now” Louder this time. She stood up from her seat, a mask of her angry personality kicking out.

He chcukled. “D’ya really think I’m--”

“Get out of my room Levi, its an order!” Finally she yelled. Making it very clear how serious she was. She was his boss after all, she could order him all she wanted, she wasn’t wrong. He is not her father or anything like it, they were just... friends.

He’s seen that before. The temper tantrum, the uncontrolable rage. He’s seen that side of her more times than he wanted to. But it was never directed to him. It stung right on his heart. Did she really have to say it like that. Na order? Damn, that was rough, it hurt. “...An order? Huh...” He started dragging his feet towards the exit. He took the tray in his hands, the remaining liquid pouring out, making even more of a mess, dragging himself and the tray after himself, he left, hitting the door on his way out, making her wince in her place.

The room was incredibly silent when he was gone. And it hit her. What the fuck has she just done? Was she so tired that she ended up letting it get to her making a mess? That was no excuse. Levi was so important, she couldn’t talk to him that way, she knew what he was doing, it was not with bad intentions at all. “Levi!” She hurried out of her room, screaming his name. But he was nowhere to be found. She really had just scared him away, the one person who’s been dealing with her these last years after they lost everyone else.

The day had gone by and no Levi to be seen. They hand’t had a fight this bad in a while, and now besides feeling tired and overworked, she also felt terrible for pushing him away.

She dragged her feet around the headquarters and ended up finding herself at the cafeteria. Maybe the smell of freshly baked bread had brought her there. She was hungry after all. In the distance she found Mikasa. Ah, yes, Mikasa could know where Levi was. They have grown closer ever since they found out they were related, sometimes spending time together, trying to figure out what their family was.

Tapping her shoulder, Hange gave her a smile.

“Commander?” Mikasa tilted her head, locks of hair falling over her eyes. “Are you okay?” She didn’t realize how rude she was sounding, but Hange looked...well, incredibly tired.

“Ah...yeah! Don’t worry, just overworking myself. Listen! Have you seen Levi?”

“Hmm... now that you mention it. No not really, not all day.”

All day? She really made a mess. She had been so stupid that he ran away completely. Had he gone back to the city? Perhaps, he’s grown tired of taking care of her and just said it was enough after this.

“Listen.” Mikasa interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to real life. “Sometimes he’s at the beach. Maybe he found out its a good place to meditate. I know I do. And whatever it was that upset him, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Hange always tried to hide her personality, her real feelings, but it was her fault to wear them on her sleve. It ended up making her the most obvious person for everyone else around her. And Mikasa knew. Probably because she had important people as well. “Yeah...I...thank you. I’ll try to check the beach. “

With a sweet wave, and a lighter heart, Hnage said goodbye to the girl. When had they grown up so much? Time has gone by so fast, she didn’t even noticed they were all adults now. She didn’t have to walk around in circles and eggshells, they weren’t kids anymore. She couldn’t blame them for being this honest and bright.

The night had came fast, all the worry and tiredness have worn her out. But if she could find Levi by the end of the day, it had been totally worth it. It was no time lost when it was time for him after all. Her best friend. Hers...

“Are ya fucking following me, ya stinky idiot?” Levi! He was really at the beach, but she was so tired she didn’t even notice him when she was walking in. Mikasa was right. The beach.

“Ah... sorry, I wanted to soak my feet in the water. You know? Catch some slugs and investigate them.” She jokingly said.

“Gross.” He noted. Shyly, he looked up at her, she was wearing her dumb smile. Visibly tired. She really hadn’t rested all day. What a mess of a woman. He was so drawn to her, so worried. “Thought ya ordered me to leave”

His words sounded so sad. She didn’t even dare to continue making fun of the situation. “Yeah...I...sorry I didn’t mean it. Levi don’t...please don’t...!” As she tried to reach up for him, she tripped, and he caught her by her shirt. It wasn’t romantic, it was actually silly and funny.

“Yer so goddamned tired.” Gently he let her down on the soft sand, dropping down with her, sitting, and quickly fixing her shirt. “Why don’t ya just listen to me.”

“Sorry.” She grabbed his hands, smiling. “I’m really sorry, Levi. Don’t be angry at me, please?”

“Tsk. Just listen to me next time.”

That was his way of saying he forgave her. She promised herself she would be more careful next time. All the time really. There was no one more important. It was just the both of them after all. She smiled, cozily resting her head against him, closing her eyes. “I will!”

The day ended with just the both of them at the beach. She quickly fell a sleep, and he was content. They needed more time like this, to just enjoy everything around them, and soak it in. Life wasn’t just to fight.

#levihan #levihansecretsanta #levihanss2020

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hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Eitr | Chapter 12

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter

LATER THAT DAY

FORANGAL CASTLE, SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Sigurd gazed down at his hands, staring blankly into the distance as his mind tore itself apart with guilt.

His clothes were still stained with numerous splatters of Gjuki’s blood, and even though Aegenwulf finally decided to spare his life, Sigurd remained trapped in a pit of remorse, suddenly feeling an urgent desire to return home.

...What had he done? What had the Saxons turned him into? Was his mind even his own anymore? What would Eivor think about all this?

Only a handful of weeks had drifted by ever since Sigurd first washed up on Agenbury’s shore, and yet, the man felt as if a lifetime separated him from the past. He hardly recognized himself anymore after everything that had occurred, and considering how things were unfolding so far, part of him wished Edlynne had left him at the river.

He didn’t deserve to be here, or in Valhalla. Backstabbers such as himself belonged in the darkest depths of Helheim, and Sigurd had no idea how he was going to face his brother once all this was over.

He wanted nothing more than to reunite with the fragments that remained of his family, but in light of recent events, Sigurd was now beginning to question his true motives, and how much survival really meant to him.

It would’ve been a dream come true to see Eivor’s face again, that much was true, but what would it matter if Sigurd didn’t even return as the same man? His brother was fighting to bring back the sibling he grew up with back in Fornburg, and yet, Sigurd felt as if he had become a total stranger.

There was barely anything left of the person he once was, and with Algar’s influence constantly digging deeper into the ealdorman’s mind, Sigurd didn’t even want to think about what he’d have to do to survive in the future.

Things were bad enough as it was. Any worse, and all Hell would break loose.

“Sigurd.”

Snapping out of his thoughts, the viking suddenly realized he wasn’t alone in his chambers and spotted Edric standing in front of him, trying to get his attention.

His brow was furrowed deeply in frustration, and judging by the weary look he wore on his face, Sigurd assumed he had just walked away from some sort of argument. Probably with Aegenwulf himself.

Sigurd glanced up at the man, still somewhat lost in shock. “...Edric? What are you doing here?”

The Saxon frowned in sympathy. “I apologize for intruding like this, but there’s something important you need to know. A decision was made after you left the throne room. Before I tell you about it, though... I wanted to see how you were doing first. That trial was just...” Edric sighed in disgust, “...well, you know.”

He took a seat next to the Norseman, bowing his head low in exhaustion.

“God, what an absolute mess. I knew my father had changed, but I never realized just how unhinged he was. What on earth was he thinking? Forcing two men to fight like a pair of animals. Jesus... if the Danes didn’t hate us before, they certainly will now.”

Edric turned to Sigurd, switching to a gentler tone. “I’m so sorry, Sigurd. If I had known what my father intended, I would’ve stepped in sooner. I would’ve tried to speak with him. I would’ve--”

“--You’re not to blame.” The viking replied, his voice cold with anger. “You did everything you could.”

The other man let out a breath. “Maybe. I just wish it would’ve been enough. I mean, I’m glad to see you alive, but... my God. That poor man. What was his name. Gjuki? What the hell did they do to him?”

“I feared he had already been killed,” Sigurd admitted. “But now, I’m starting to think that would’ve been a better fate.”

“No one deserves what he went through,” Edric agreed. “I still can’t believe my father would allow all this. He used to be so kind, and compassionate. He was always a firm man, but he never indulged in such cruelty. What’s happened to him?”

It didn’t take long for Sigurd to provide an answer. “Your father is no more than a pawn for Algar to use. You wish to eradicate the corruption in Wedenscire? You must get rid of him first.”

Edric picked up on his tone. “Why? Have you learned something?”

The viking nodded. “Before Gjuki drew his last breath, he revealed to me what he found in Algar’s crypt. Apparently, the man is part of the Order of the Ancients. His alias among them is The Colossus.”

Edric displayed a puzzled look. “The Order of the Ancients? I’ve never heard of them. Have you?”

“Yes, actually. Though, my knowledge on them is far from abundant. Before my clan was attacked, my brother pursued some of their members who were operating in Lunden. I also know there are many others spread across England and Norway. They worship a god whose name I’ve never heard, and their motives remain a mystery to me. I have no idea why they would be interested in your father, or how Gareth is connected to all this.”

The nobleman slid a hand down his face. “Christ Almighty. What has my family gotten itself into? I’m not familiar with this organization, Sigurd, but I’ll do whatever I can to learn more about them. If they’re as widespread as you say, there must be something we can find. Something that can put Algar down for good.”

“Just... tread carefully.” Sigurd warned. “Gjuki was on the same path as you before Algar captured him. I don’t want you to share his fate. There’s also the fact that he’ll likely be even more protective of his secrets now that someone has infiltrated his crypt.”

“Of course. I’ll be as discreet as possible.”

The viking decided to switch topics. “Well, enough about that. I’d rather not spare another thought on that bacraut after everything that’s happened. You mentioned you had something else you wanted to discuss?”

Edric sighed. “Right. You’re not going to like it. It’s... Bishop Hundwerth.”

Sigurd leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What has he done now?”

“He insists that you convert to Christianity. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but I’m afraid Lady Moira’s voice overpowered mine. My father’s decided that you’re to be baptized tomorrow morning, and recognized as a man of God.”

“But I already proved my loyalty,” the other man argued, his tone sharp with bitterness. “Wasn’t that the whole point of pitting me against my own friend? Or was that simply for their entertainment?”

Edric shared Sigurd’s annoyance. “That’s not how the bishop sees it. In his eyes, the only thing you proved is that you’re willing to murder one of your own if it means saving yourself. You may have given your word that you won’t betray us again, but for Hundwerth, the word of a pagan holds little merit. He’d rather trust the promise of a Christian.”

The Norseman rose from his bed, pacing around the room. “So it’s not enough that they torture my people and force me to slay them? Now I must also abandon my gods?”

The Saxon bowed his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Sigurd. The unfairness of this situation isn’t lost on me, but I’m afraid there’s not much else I can do. My words seem to fall on deaf ears nowadays.”

“...It’s not your fault. You’ve already done more than enough for me.” Sigurd placed his hands on his hips, gazing out the window. “I suppose there’s no use in fighting it now. I’ve seen the kind of punishment that awaits me if I resist. I do not wish to leave my gods behind, but...” his voice softened with heartache, “...if this is the cost of survival, then... I’ll do it. I need to get back home alive. I need to see my brother again.”

Edric’s head jerked up in confusion. “Your brother? I thought he was dead.”

“So did I, but Gjuki informed me of his survival not too long ago. He was the only thing keeping us in touch. Now that he’s gone, I’m at a loss as to how I’ll contact my brother again should the need arise.”

The young man stood up from the bed and stepped behind Sigurd, resting an affectionate hand on his arm.

“...We will get through this, Sigurd.” He whispered reassuringly. “I know it can be easy to forget, but you’re not alone in these walls. You have Edlynne, Joseph, Raedan... and me. We’re here for you.”

The viking held onto Edric’s hand and turned around to face him, finding a sense of solace in his words.

“Thank you, Edric. These are dire times, but your kindness won’t be forgotten in the days to come.” Sigurd pulled the young man close, pecking a kiss on his forehead. “I’m glad I have you at my side.”

Edric smiled in his embrace, resting his head on the man’s chest. “As am I.”

Falling into silence, the two of them simply stood there for a moment and savored each other’s company, attempting to cling onto any shred of comfort they could find. The entire castle had descended into disarray after Aegenwulf’s unpopular decision to spare Sigurd, and with Bishop Hundwerth preparing for the upcoming baptism, it seemed like peace in Forangal was naught but a distant memory.

There was arguing, debating, contempt, scorn -- and seeing as how Gjuki’s head was now displayed on a pike, Edric imagined that the war with the Danes would only erupt.

It was Hell on earth inside Forangal’s walls, but with Sigurd there to protect him from any threats, Edric was able to feel some sense of security. It meant nothing to him that the man was a Dane, or a pagan rather than a Christian. He knew Sigurd to be good at heart, and frankly, despite what he expected, he trusted him more than his own father these days.

He only prayed that the tides of fate would be merciful in the near future. If he were to lose Sigurd to the chaos that was beginning to unravel, Edric didn’t know how he would proceed. That man was the only one willing to help him look into Gareth’s death, and if his instincts were correct, then Algar was at the center of it all.

He would need all the help he could get in order to take that beast down, and if that meant they had to fight for just a little longer, then Edric was willing to endure it. He just didn’t know where to start.

~~~~~~~~~~

TWO DAYS LATER

ELMENHAM, EAST ANGLIA

Galloping towards the longhouse at full speed, Broder frantically stormed his way back to Eivor as rain heavily poured down from the clouds above, shrouding everything in a bleak darkness.

He had been running for his life ever since Algar cornered Gjuki at the crypt, and with the majority of their group now lying dead in the mud, Broder had no intentions of returning to Wedenscire until Eivor himself marched for the gates of Forangal.

He hated the idea of leaving Sigurd behind to deal with his troubles alone, but considering how erratic the ealdorman had become recently, Broder was no longer willing to risk it. Not on his own, at least.

He saw for himself what the Saxons did to Gjuki, and how they treated his corpse. He may have been eager to help Eivor reunite with his brother, but Broder had his own siblings to look out for, and the last thing he wanted was to end up being a mounted head for some Saxon nobleman.

He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

Yanking on the reins of his horse, Broder came to a screeching halt as the animal’s hooves went dragging through the mud, causing the steed to let out a panicked neigh. His body was aching terribly with fatigue thanks to the long journey, but even then, the viking refused to take a break. His mind had been trapped in a perpetual state of alarm ever since Gjuki’s death, and he was adamant to get the news back to Eivor.

Rushing to the entrance of the longhouse, Broder trudged through the storm and practically bashed the doors open, ignoring the curious stares he received from scattered civilians.

Even though the rain had washed away most of the blood staining his armor, he still remained quite a sight to behold and traipsed through Elmenham’s fields like a walking corpse rising from its grave.

Once inside, Broder spotted Eivor conversing with Oswald and Valdis as the three of them discussed the war, clearly devising some sort of plan. Their voices were nearly inaudible underneath the relentless howls of the wind, but in spite of the interference, their heads still jolted in Broder’s direction upon his obtrusive entrance, causing them to let out a unanimous gasp.

“Brother!” Valdis greeted with relief. “You’ve returned.” Her expression instantly dimmed. “...Are you well? You look awful.”

The man jogged up to them, doing his best not to collapse on the spot.

“Eivor...!” Broder exclaimed, somewhat out of breath. “There you are. I... I...”

“Easy, drengr,” Eivor said in a calming tone. “Slow down. Tell me what’s going on.”

Broder took a moment to get his bearings, finally recovering from the treacherous ride home.

“...Gjuki’s dead, Eivor.”

Valdis’ eyes widened in horror. “What? What do you mean he’s dead? What happened?”

Broder decided to spare them the details. “We were searching a hidden crypt in Wedenscire, not too far away from Forangal. We thought there might’ve been clues inside, and there were, but...”

Eivor urged him on. “But what?”

The other man shook his head in regret. “It was the ealdorman’s housecarl. An argr snake called Algar. He captured Gjuki and slaughtered the rest of our men. I was the only one who managed to escape.”

Oswald caught onto his last words. “Wait, he captured Gjuki? So he didn’t kill him immediately?”

“No,” Broder confirmed. “Algar took him to the dungeons.”

An alarming thought struck Eivor’s mind. “Wait, what about Sigurd? Where is he now? Is he alright?”

A dour look spread across Broder’s face. “He’s alive, but... Gods. It was madness, Eivor. When Algar took Gjuki in, it didn’t take him long to realize that he was working with Sigurd, so the ealdorman held a trial. They were willing to spare your brother’s life in spite of his crimes, but he had to do something in exchange. He had to kill Gjuki.”

Eivor froze at the news.

“...Sigurd... killed him?”

“Yes. He did not wish to, but the Saxons left him no choice. It was either him or Gjuki. He chose to comply in the end.” Broder turned to his sister. “...I tried everything I could to save him, Valdis. I did. But it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”

The woman crossed her arms, trying to hide her pain. “I--” she choked up, “--oh, Gjuki...”

Broder hesitated to get the last part of his report out. He hated to constantly be the bearer of bad news, but he knew it was necessary.

“...There is one more thing, Eivor. While we were in the crypt, we learned that Algar was part of the Order. There were a series of letters between him and some of the other members in their organization, but he’s burned them all now.”

Oswald paused. “A member of the Order? In Wedenscire? Are you certain?”

“Indeed. They call him The Colossus.”

Eivor mindlessly clenched his fist in response to the report and brought his attention to the king, unable to conceal the fire raging in his eyes.

“Oswald, we must march on Forangal now. We have enough allies.”

The Saxon hesitated. “You’ve rallied a decent army, Eivor, but I’m still not certain if it’ll be sufficient. Forangal is a hefty fortress armed with many defenses. If we’re not careful, it could result in total obliteration.”

“We don’t have time to forge anymore alliances!” The viking argued. “Sigurd needs us. Now. Those Saxons have already butchered Gjuki, and they have the Order among them. It won’t be much longer until my brother is the one on their chopping block. We need to get him out of there as soon as possible.”

Oswald remained unswayed. “I understand your urgency, Eivor, but we must approach this realistically. Not many people walk away from Forangal with their lives, and for good reason. We only have one chance to do this right. Better to wait a little longer and ensure we’re prepared, rather than march straight to our deaths.”

The king turned to Broder. “You were there, Broder. What’s your opinion on the situation in Wedenscire? Can Sigurd afford to wait?”

The man furrowed his brow in uncertainty. “I... I don’t know, my lord. It’s difficult to say. He’s managed to survive thus far, but his captives have become unpredictable recently. Relentless. They’ve even forced Sigurd to convert to Christianity.”

That took Oswald by surprise. “What? When did this happen?”

“Just after Gjuki died. I overheard the nobles in the castle speaking of a baptism before I left. One of them was against the conversion, but the rest decided to go through with it.”

Eivor’s expression flattened with frustration. “You see? We must go now. Before they try anything else. I’m done cowering in the shadows.”

“But what if--”

“--Eivor’s right.” Valdis jumped in. “Those people are animals, Oswald. You’ve seen for yourself what they did to the Raven Clan; what they did to Randvi. If there’s any chance we can save Sigurd from the same fate, we need to take it. We’ve idled for long enough.”

Oswald was at a loss for words. “...I really don’t know how this is going to work, you all. We have enough forces to put up a decent fight, but... assaulting Forangal Castle? That’s a completely different story.”

Broder offered his own thoughts. “Do not be so quick to dismiss the unlikely, my lord. It happens more often than you think. Those are Gjuki’s words. Not mine.”

“Have faith in our strength, husband.” Valdis continued. “We are warriors. Drengir. Children of Odin. We were born and bred for this sort of thing. We will not fall so easily to these Saxons. Let us go.”

Oswald fell silent at his friends’ arguments and sighed in defeat, conflicted on what to do next.

On one hand, he sympathized with Eivor’s eagerness to storm Forangal’s gates, but on the other, he honestly didn’t know if their soldiers could survive such an endeavor. Their army was just large enough that the plan could’ve succeeded with the help of a miracle, but despite his youth, Oswald was world-weary enough to know that battles typically didn’t favor the disadvantaged.

Anything could’ve gone wrong during this assault. Aegenwulf could’ve had more forces than they anticipated, an ambush could’ve stopped them along the way, or -- worst case scenario -- Sigurd could’ve already been dead. There was an abundance of unknowns lurking around the corner, and with so many risks obscuring the path ahead, Oswald wasn’t sure if war was the answer. At least, not for now.

Still, he feared what could’ve happened to Sigurd if they waited too long. Based on Broder’s report, it sounded like the man was going through hell at the moment. If there was any opportunity for them to rescue him from Aegenwulf’s clutches, Oswald felt complied to seize it.

Eivor did the same for him when he was taken prisoner at Burgh Castle, so it only seemed right to return the favor.

“...Alright, you three.” Oswald finally agreed. “We’ll march on Forangal Castle as soon as we are able. Eivor, summon your allies. Tell them to meet us here. When they’ve arrived, we’ll begin making our way to Wedenscire. In the meantime, the rest of us will focus on the assault. My troops are yours to command as well.”

The viking gave him a firm nod. “Thank you, Oswald. I won’t fail you.”

“I have confidence in your abilities. I just hope that it’ll be enough. As for the rest of you...”

Oswald linked his hands together behind his back. “Get some rest. And prepare as much as you can. We don’t know what sort of resistance we’ll face in Wedenscire, but I think it’s safe to assume that our forces will be stretched thin. Do everything in your ability to ensure you are ready for this assault, and keep your guard up. We have evidence that the Order of the Ancients is involved now, so Lord only knows what Algar will have up his sleeve.”

Broder stepped in. “I’ll join the assault too.”

“No,” Oswald refused. “you need to rest. You’ve been through enough.”

“With all due respect, your Majesty, Gjuki is dead because of my incompetence. Out of honor, I cannot simply sit by and watch while your people risk their lives for a mistake I made. I’m still here because of that man. This is the least I can do for him.”

The king decided to grant him permission. “...Very well, then. I expect to see you at Forangal. As for you two, spread word of the assault to our soldiers. I want them to be prepared as well.”

Eivor nodded. “As you wish.”

“Good. Then let’s get to work. Sigurd’s life depends on our efficiency, and there’s no telling what will happen once Aegenwulf realizes who’s behind the assault. From what I understand, the man is growing more and more unstable by the day. Brace yourselves for anything... and may your gods watch over you all.”

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #male oc #sigurd x male oc #ac valhalla fanfic #eitr

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herb-whump · 3 years

Text

Summer Job

I'm dying its 2 am god help me

Taglist: @albino-whumpee @torture-as-lovely-as-you

Let me know if you want to be tagged in other stories than Don't get far away Precious or not cause i do not know shit about taglists

CW/ manipulation and abuse mentions and threats, slight rape mention

Mikołaj went to sleep finally, squeezing himself next to the mattress on the hard floor. It wasn't pleasant, and he always woke up a little cranky afterward.

- Honey. - A familiar voice woke him up for good. It was his mom, softly smiling at him - I made breakfast... it's not much but you still gotta eat something.

- Okay... - Mikołaj sighed, blushing a bit. His mom still treated him like a little boy sometimes.

He sat down at the table next to his little brother. There wasn't much for breakfast. Some buns bought on the end of the day sale, with cheese and tomatoes, and cheap black tea to drink. Mikołaj looked down at the cup, the water was muddy, it wasn't of the best quality around these parts of the city.

- thank you, mom... For the breakfast - he smiled a little and the woman nodded. - I have to go to work soon so I probably won't eat a lot.

- But it's Sunday, I thought you would stay home today. - Magda frowned - You already work too hard during the week. You should get some rest.

- I was hoping we would go hang out today...! - his brother pouted, not happy.

- Mom, Tymek, I have to, and it's not a big job either. I will try to be back sooner today, I promise.

Magda wouldn't push her son anymore to stay, so she just sighed with a pained expression.

He ate one bun and drank the tea as fast as he could. Got a change of clothes and left the house, with a simple "I love you" while leaving. A man from another block of flats said he will pay him for repairing his shower. The man was an acquaintance of his. While they weren't friends, they talked a bit, and Mikołaj accidentally confessed to having this dire situation with money.

He knocked on the front door, to soon be greeted by the man. His name was Josef, and he was a middle-aged man, with short brown hair and round glasses. A kind face and from what Mikołaj could gather, he was a father to two kids, and after a divorce.

- Here you are! I was waiting for you. - Josef chuckled softly and invited the boy inside, showing him what was wrong with the shower, which Mikołaj started working on almost immediately - You know Miko, You need quick money right?

- Yeah, kinda... - Mikołaj bit his lip. - stupid shower head...

- Listen here, I know this guy, he has a work agency. He mostly hires young strong men like you, you work abroad, and earn much more this way. Usually only for about a month or two.

- w-wait really? - Mikołaj stopped for a bit. It sounded... A little shady to say the least. But he did worse things and if a kind father is recommending this, maybe it's actually a good opportunity. - Can you give me the guy's number? I will call him today if I can.

- Sure thing Miko. - The man smiled.

After finally fixing the shower, Josef wrote down the man's number on a piece of paper, paid Mikołaj, and sent him home. But before he returned to his mom and brother, the boy sat down at a secluded bench in the local park. He stared intensely at the number Josef wrote down. He was still debating if he should call it. But he didn't have many options at this point. He slowly put the number in his phone and rang.

- Good evening, how can I help you? - the voice belonged to a young woman, it was calm and soft.

- Uhm... Good evening. I've heard of job offerings in this agency. My friend, Josef recommended I call.

- Ah! Yes, yes! Of course! So you will need to send us your resume and talk in person of course - The woman explained everything

Except what the job abroad actually was. But Mikołaj didn't think much of it. If it made money and wasn't prostitution, he was in.

It was some time for the in-person meeting to happen, but it wasn't at all what the boy had imagined.

The man sitting before him was not much older than Mikołaj himself, 30 at most, but Mikołaj gave him 26. He had dark black messy hair, medium length. Brown eyes and wore sunglasses on his head. Golden chains on his neck and other expensive jewelry. He looked rich, to say the least. Not to mention the place of the meeting. Almost empty office room, in a freshly built business complex. Most of the spaces in it were just put out to be rented.

- Hi Mikołaj. - The man spoke up with a giggly, yet deep voice - You can call me Vasya. You're just going to sign those papers and you're hired for the month. If all goes well maybe we will hire you for a month more. - He slid a few papers on the table.

- N-no questions? I thought this was an interview... I mean don't get me wrong please, I'm just really surprised. - He chuckled nervously, slowly looking down at the papers.

- No questions. I think your resume said enough and just from looking at you, I think you will be a great fit. We need healthy, strong young men. It will be a physically taxing job but you wrote you did many jobs like that.

- I guess... - With shaky hands he took the papers in his hands, trying to comprehend what he was actually signing. But seeing the pay, stated at the end was enough to make him stop reading, and just take the pen. He signed it, never asking any more questions. This much money will get them a better flat and food for sure.

Even if the job was gross or heavily taxing, he will bear it. It's only a month, right? And if it's great, he can work for two months. That would secure their life for a long time.

He came back home with the news and a smile on his face. He burst through the door and hugged his mom tight

- O-oh dear! You got the job I presume. - his mom laughed and tousled his hair with a gentle expression. - I'm just sad you're going to be gone for a month or two.

- Mikołaj! So you're going? Is.. it bad I kinda hoped you wouldn't? You go out every day almost...

- I'm sorry Tymek. I really am. I promise after I come back, we're going to move to a nice place and I'm gonna spend much more time with you. - Mikołaj smiled softly, trying to comfort his little brother.

- I suppose... But you really promise, right? - he noded - Okay. Please call us every day though!

- I will. They will come to pick me up by bus the day after tomorrow, so I have to start packing soon. - the brown-haired boy hugged them both again and went to the other side of the room to search for a bag to pack.

The departure day came soon. It was a warm June morning, Mikołaj was standing at a bus stop near his house, waiting for the work bus to come. Clutching his bag in his hand, he looked up at the bus stop screen for the time. It was a little late, but when he looked away from the clock, the bus was coming from the other street. It stopped and opened its door.

- Mr. Kasperczyk? - The bus driver looked at him suspiciously - Show your ID

- Sure. - Mikołaj nodded and showed his ID, the driver promptly inviting him on board.

He walked into the bus, full of young men, probably not much older than himself. Some sat alone, sulking or sleeping, some laughed together in pairs. Seems normal enough. Mikołaj sat down in an empty seat and tired, pressed his head between the window and the seat, slowly falling asleep, still clutching his bag.

He slept through the whole journey, only the familiar face of Vasya, seemingly his new boss, waking him up.

- Wakey wakey sleepy-head. You all have to settle in your rooms. - He smiled. He had a charming aspect to his demeanor, but it kind of made Mikołaj uneasy. He nodded and stood up.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to treat Vasya, so he'd rather avoid him.

- I will visit all of you in the evening after dinner, okay? - Vasya waved them goodbye and jumped right back into the bus. Was he on it the whole time and Mikołaj didn't notice? Maybe.

The boy looked around. The building was clearly a worker hotel but didn't look too cheap. It looked cozy, and the receptionist informed them they had all separate rooms. She also gave them the keys, and information regarding breakfast and dinner hours. It was all provided for. Mikołaj got a room on the second floor. He opened the wooden door, to see a comfortable-looking room, it was small, smaller than their already small flat but it was more than enough for him. The bed had a birch wooden frame, it was made, and covered with a soft beige blanket. Next to it was a big window and a nightstand, and a wardrobe, all made from birch to fit with the bed. The bathroom was also private. the door was on the right of the entrance, it was also pretty tiny, but it had a shower, toilet, and a sink, all relatively clean, so what more could he ask for?

Mikołaj put the bag down next to the bed and sent a quick text to his mom that he got there safely, and first taking off his shoes, he laid down on the bed. It was soft... and so comfortable. He cracked a little smile, he will buy a similar bed for himself when he gets back for sure. No more back pain and cranky mornings. He could lay in this bed for an eternity... almost forgetting what he was actually here for. Work. Physical work at that.

He rolled around on the bed until dinner time came around. It was probably the first time in forever he would eat an actual dinner, usually, it was just lunch, sometimes breakfast. The boy jumped from the bed and stretched a little.

- Foood... - He smiled, his belly growling from just a thought.

The dining room was pretty small, for sure all of the workers from the bus did not end up in the same hotels. He looked around. The tables were for two, max five people, and it was a buffet. A buffet... all you can eat one. Ah, how he wished it was like this every day at home. Or that at least he could share with his family but alas.

The buffet tables were filled with food, it wasn't the most expensive kind, but it made mikołaj salivate at the mere thought. Sausages, bread and a toaster for it, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs, and different jams, cereals, and porridge, fresh fruit, coffee, tea... It was a feast for Mikołaj, and afterward, he returned to his room, full, completely forgetting the visit from Vasya was supposed to happen. So he was relaxing in his room until a knock snapped him out of the light mood.

- Yes?

- It's me. I said I'd come. - It was the man's voice, giggly as always. Mikołaj opened the door and let him in. - You probably want to know what is the job right. - he chuckled a bit, and closed the door, yet still positioning himself as if he was guarding the door.

- well... Yeah, and when do we start? - Miko sat down on the bed again, staring intensely at Vasya. - It's not like prostitution is it?

- No, we wouldn't trick you into prostitution, oh my! - Yet his face looked suspiciously calm. - But you would be surprised what people pay for nowadays. Good money! Tell me little Miko, you're probably used to being beaten up huh?

Mikołaj's face turned white, and he gulped, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He knew just from looking at him, didn't he? Or was it the giant barely healed wound on his eye the giveaway. Either way, the boy didn't like it one bit.

- What do you mean? - He finally spits out, not looking at Vasya anymore.

- It's simple, people pay for getting one of you, for ten hours, to do whatever they like. The rules are simple, no fatal injuries or rape, or else they deal with me and that's not going to be pleasant. I'm not a monster, I wouldn't let random people actually hurt you! - He said with a grin. - If customers like you, you get paid more usually. You can also agree to do sexual things but you don't have to. It actually doesn't pay that much around these parts.

- So you... You send us to be basically abused for ten hours and you pay us for it. What... What the fuck is wrong with you?

- Careful with those words, pretty boy. - the grin disappeared from the man's face, sending a chill down Mikołaj's spine. - You don't have a choice anymore. You signed your fate away for at least a month! If you break the contract, this family of yours will probably end up on the street soon. Time is ticking, you better do something. I'm giving you a generous offer!

- Sh-shut it. - He bit his lip. Vasya was right, they were on the verge of homelessness. - Okay. It... it's only one month.

- If they like you and you agree maybe tw-

- I know! Fine, holy shit, I will do it! Just... Send the money directly to my family alright?

- Will do that. I hope you stay for longer little Miko! Ah, you have an appointment already tomorrow, at noon, you will be escorted by a taxi from here. Good night and good luck! - He smiled and left the perplexed boy in his room.

#Summer Job #herb writes #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump blog

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lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

The Dragon of Yss: Extra!

Bloopers, Outtakes, some HC

Masamune x MC (Mizusaki Mai)

Fantasy AU

Summary: He wanted Mai to remain herself - and for that very reason, he promised to protect her, at any cost. Little did he know, he may need somebody to save him as well.

All parts: Part 1 - Sands of Estarra , Part 2 - Findings , Part 3 - “ I knew you’d come.” , Part 4 - Reborn , Part 5 - Eevi , Part 6 - Closer , Part 7 - Way to Varshka , Part 8 - The Gods We Trust , Part 9 - Flowers that Bloom in Adversity , Part 10 - Singing Bird , Part 11 - Vibrant Smoke , Part 12 - Hidden in Plain Sight , Part 13 - Heritage , Part 14 - Isger , Part 15 - Mad Possibility , Part 16 - Unraveling , Part 17 - Promises Sealed in Snow , Part 18 - Never Unfamiliar, Part 19 - White Noise , Epilogue: Threads

So, the main part of the story may be over... But it did not stop my brain from coming up with few little things here and there. As such, allow me to share those here as well.

// Dialogue shortly following the ending of the series; between Iroha and Masamune

// General post-chapter 19 notes/HC + explanations

“What do you mean you were turned into a dragon?! I thought you said you’ve lied to me only once in my life and that this was the lie!”

“Of course not. It was when you were seven and refused to go to sleep without having cake, so I told you that the neighbours’ dog was hungry and ate it.”

(Pause)

“Are you for real?”

“Dire situations call for appropriate measures.”

“I swear to skies, dad...”

The Plague of Yss

Iroha - the heiress of the Date clan

I feel it may be somewhat unclear, yet I decided against repeating it in the story itself. As was stated, Mitsunari had some hypothesis to test and needed at least a single person who survived long enough into the plague OR recovered from it.

The plague of Yss was in fact more of a double-edged sword, perhaps it could be even called a ritual performed by Isgerians. Yssians are their descendants and, as you probably already know, Masamune turned into the dragon as the result of this plague.

Long story short: Masamune is the survivor of the plague, the one thing Mitsunari needed. This is also why they came to live in Varshka, the place being one of two major cities presented in the story. (Why Varshka and not Vyrminia? University in Vyrminia would still be partially destroyed. As was stated by Mila, despite being almost the same in most regards, the atmosphere is the major thing setting those two apart. +Take note that Ieyasu did work there shortly before being forced to move to Vyrminia and recorded a rapid increase of cases of said plague there).

As was implied several times in the story, magical abilities or lack thereof may influence one’s life to a great extent - from their social status to rendering them a desirable product on the black market.

Allow me to write a short list (least to most desirable) of abilities.

Giftless.

Healer.

Connector (either of two types).

Transmuter.

(As for why this order is like so: talk between Oxa and Masamune in regards to giftless and healers; fact that the only transmuter in the story is Alleyah/Manya and it’s specifically mentioned that this ability is extremely rare and desirable to the point of people being bred to acquire it in the offspring. Yes - yikes; the only remaining and most common class are, of course, connectors, hence its placement).

Lastly, before I move to the point, please let me remind you: abilities are inherited. It is not completely random.

How does it all tie up into Iroha’s situation?

The history repeats itself. Iroha is hence more desirable heir than any of her cousins. If she so chooses - she will become the heiress of the Date clan. However, as it was already implied in the story: it is a choice. Masamune tells her he will handle any business with his family if she wishes to take a different path.

Masamune is giftless, which, aside from having only one eye, makes him a very poor candidate for a heir. As such, it was his younger brother who was granted the role - whichever type of magic he possessed, it was better than no magic and the risk of passing this “affliction” onto the next head of the family.

However, just as magic is passed, so is lack of it. Even if it did not activate in his generation, Kojirou’s children are born giftless. (Given the context, despite the other parent possessing some sort of ability).

Meanwhile, Masamune’s daughter, Iroha, was born a connector, having inherited the ability from her mother.

Her trip to Mitsuhide’s estate is related to that - there are little other reliable ways for her to be taught about diplomacy.

On warlords and their relationships

This may cause a question to appear: how did the warlords even end up being connected? Well... Simply as that, they were all sons from rather prominent households and had most likely met each other during diplomacy trips of their parents. Them either becoming heads of said families or not - that comes into play later on in their life. Their relationships survived.

It also means that the reason why Ieyasu was able to become a physician is because he was a healer and hence, not the best candidate. Also - Masamune could travel the world in search of Mai because... He didn’t have any political duties to attend to.

As for Mitsunari and Hideyoshi - it’s not explained nor implied how they got where they are. However, it’s possible to adapt canon for the sake of that.

Portal magic and its many faces

As it was stated in the story, the main thing setting Arynthian people from other connectors is that - if one of them is born a connector - their magic manifests somewhat differently. It’s ruled by different limitations.

As such, Mai’s portal magic is different from that of Kyubei. (As it was shown, she can see colorful lines and can follow them basically anywhere. Kyubei, meanwhile, has to be able to see the place he is supposed to open the portal to - or to be able to visualise it well, as was pointed out when Mai passed through a portal point).

Why am I bringing it up? Because Iroha’s magic is a bit different too. It has less limitations that Kyubei’s ability, yet it isn’t as powerful as Mai’s.

This also explains why “Arynthinas” are so rare - the ability degenerates fast. It’s more of an error than actual ability, so to say.

Kenshin & the timeskip

What was he even doing then? How long was it?

Well. Kenshin has a very fuzzy memory of last 20-ish years of his life in the form of the dragon. As was previously mentioned, it happens so when the primal desires take over human mind - when smelling blood or... Well, or what? It was mentioned he was hungry.

Yes. He was starving himself for the entire duration of the timeskip. Why? Because then the flammable substance in his stomach self-ignited and caused him to combust. In a way, he committed an act of self-burning...

And flames of the dragon were the only thing which could turn him back. So they did.

// Bullet-points (not written in the story, may not be written, but overall, you can assume those are canon)

Iroha was born 12 months after her parents reunited. When Mai got pregnant, it was a surprise for all parties involved. However, they chose to continue the pregnancy.

Mai became proficient in portal magic mostly because Iroha’s powers would activate at random when she was still little. A toddler stuck between the worlds doesn’t make for a happy toddler.

On that note, Masamune could be hardly left home alone with her. Hardly, as he eventually developed fast enough reflexes to pull her out of a portal right as she was starting to pass through it. It later became a joke that they needed to keep her on a leash for few months - which is not completely incorrect.

Developing the cure involved taking plenty of samples. In other words: RiP Masamune’s veins, he would curse like a sailor whenever he had to have his blood drawn.

To follow down this path: the preventive medicine involved having your skin cut and then it being injected. Iroha was very young when it happened and so, she has a scar on her arm from that.

Shortly after that, they moved back to Yss. Masamune might have not been the heir, but family standing did make some matters easier to achieve for him. As such, he’s a bit of a local leader in his community, I would say, dealing mostly with local politics and management.

They were relieved when it turned out their son, Tadamune, was giftless.

Iroha will never live down what happened at the apple tree.

During winter, the frostbite on Mai’s hands makes itself known again. Her skin cracks and scabs start to form - and each year, Masamune takes it onto himself to tend to them. He is more than aware that she got it while he was still turned into the dragon.

Manya continued to serve under Mitsuhide. However, she hardly uses her power anymore. She grew particularly close with Kyubei, although they’re still working on the terminology. Or perhpas there is no reason for it?They’re not sure themselves; Call them very close friends.

Mitsuhide does not have a chid or a partner. He doesn’t seem to mind, however, his “niece” having always been a handful to manage. He made sure to tell everybody about the apple tree. All of his stories contradict each other.

Time almost stopped for Kenshin when he was still a dragon. In other words, he’s the oldest in actual years of life, but in terms of physical form? He’s younger than Masamune or any other warlord. This lands him in a rather peculiar spot of... Well, an adult face, although in his case, it’s just another variety of VERY severe baby face.

// outtakes

-- this was a very early attempt at writing the smut scene. Written several months prior to actually getting to this point in the story.

The room was cozy and simple, the inventory of it consisting of warm chimney stretching from below the floor and up through the ceiling, a small table, with a bronze basin on top of it, and a bed, just barely big enough to fit two people comfortably. They stepped inside, the white sheets seemingly calling them, inviting them to come closer. Mai sank onto the mattress first, her legs still remaining on the floor. She kicked her boots off and, this time, lay down properly.

„ We're switching today,” she said, opening her arms for Masamune. He obliged, soon nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Resting in silent contentment, he slung his arm over her waist, pulling her even closer. She stroked his hair tenderly, basking in the warmth exchanged between their bodies. Ever since she was kidnapped, she wanted to just hold him, knowing he'd push himself with no regard for his own well-being.

„ You shouldn't have done that, you know...” she hummed. „ What were you even thinking, it was so risky...”

„ I screwed up in the market, didn't I?” he sighed. „ I'm sorry I didn't keep my word then.”

„ You idiot, you missed the point entirely. I can... If... If that's what I have to do to survive, I will accept it. But I don't want to lose you,” her voice hitched. Masamune propped himself on his elbow, cupping her cheeks with his free hand.

„ I'm sorry. But I couldn't stand having you whisked away again too.”

As if guided by pure instinct, she pulled him into a kiss. His lips pressed against hers more delicately than usually. She opened her mouth, needing to taste him, over and over again. His familiar scent enveloped her, his fingers tracing the outline of her jaw – and for a moment she could have sworn that the time stopped, that the entire universe was reduced just to that single small room. Yet, they had to part eventually, their lungs begging for air. To her surprise, Masamune returned to his previous spot, his hair tickling her chin.

„ I missed you so much, Mai,” he murmured against her skin. His lips brushed her neck once, twice, and so many more, each and every time descending slightly, until he reached the very tip of her collarbone. His hand waited at the hemline of her shirt.

„ But you should rest...” she trailed off.

„ I'm fine. You know the question was whether you want it or not.”

Hadn't she known the answer already? Yet, the reason still fought within her, reminding her of both her and his fatigue... But... Maybe? Maybe just a little... Maybe just a little more.

„ I do,” she uttered finally.

-- At first I considered Mitsuhide and Manya becoming and endgame ship. I ended up deciding against it. However, a line of dialogue stayed. I debated using it for another pair, but it didn’t happen either.

A chilly gust of wind slipped through the tiny creaks around the window. His teeth pulled lightly on the cord keeping her neckline closed, the knot soon unraveling. His hand snuck under her shirt, travelling up so very slowly, as if he wanted to renew the map of her body in his mind. She shivered under his touch, anticipation growing deep within her. His lips returned to her neck, as he cupped her breast from below, massaging it lightly. Switching between the left one and the right one, his fingers caressed them unhurriedly. Masamune pulled onto the top of her shirt, the fabric dispersing over the cord just slightly, exposing her shoulders. Cold air inviting itself into the room again, he kissed the newly freed skin. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down at her, her nipples peaking through her clothing.

„ Masamune...” she whined a bit, as if to rush him. He chuckled in response, the garment soon flying to the floor.

„ Aren’t you impatient, kitten?” he hummed against her breast, his breath warming up her skin. Mai shivered.

“ You’re..!” her voice hitched, as he took her nipple between his teeth and bit on it just lightly, flicking it with his tongue and sucking it a moment later.

“ Have you said anything just now?” he laughed, looking up at her. Mischief played in his eye, as he returned to caressing her, his fingers sliding down her side.

“ That I missed you too,” she gasped as he grabbed her rear, his hand sneaking beneath the fabric of her pants. As if to make up to her for all the missed time, his lips trailed a path down her abdomen – until she couldn’t take it anymore, pulling him up by his shoulders, needing to taste his lips. She pushed Masamune against the pillows and straddled him. Seeing the surprised look he gave her, Mai laughed a little.

“ I still think you should rest,” she stated firmly, her fingers tracing his jawline. She cupped his face and leaned forward, her hair tickling his cheeks as he kissed her again, his tongue entering her mouth eagerly. Wordlessly, she

-- Another dialogue exchanged between Mitsuhide and Manya. It made it into the final story, although slightly altered.

“I love you.”

“What--”

“With every fiber of my being. I love you.”

“He will not love you, no matter how much you change.”

“How can you know that?!”

“The filthiest scums on earth are unable to feel anything lest it’s twisted - and love, my dear little one, can never withstand that sort of deformation.”

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#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #my ff #my writing

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alarawriting · 4 years

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Inktober 2020 #21: Sleep

Based on the prompt from @writing-prompt-s, “The worst thing a wizard can do is sleep-talk.”

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

Words spoken by a person without the power thrumming through their veins were just words. Even the Words of Change, the secret language the universe was built in, meant nothing to the people without the power. But for the people who had it, words needed to be guarded carefully. “Umhaha”, for instance, unraveled thread. An easy mistake to make; almost every young wizard had a story about accidentally rendering themselves and everyone in the room with them naked, just by laughing a certain way after saying the word “Um.”

“Kefzhizoss” should have been a word that no one would ever say unless they meant to say it.

The young man was crumpled up as small as a human could make himself, on the bench in the police wagon. No one had confiscated the amulet of protection from his neck; like most such amulets, it wouldn’t come off while he was under emotional stress, pain or fear. But he was under a silencing charm, and the amulet didn’t protect him from being silenced.

The cleric was arguing with the detective on the scene. “It’s obvious he didn’t mean to do this,” he said, waving his hand at the devastation of what had been the young man’s home, with his parents and siblings. The broken remains of the wards that had contained the word, made sure the destruction spread no farther than their property, would have stopped the word if it hadn’t been spoken within their house, and there were other fragmentary charms present. One to prevent fire. One that would probably have protected books from water damage. There was one, still intact, that purified air as it went into the lungs of birds.

There were no birds in the wreckage, or bird cages. Neither were there human corpses, or any human beds, except for the one the young man had laid in. The destruction had been too thorough.

“Look, Elimiss, maybe I agree with you. Could be accidental sleeptalking. But four people are dead, and the damage was clearly done by the Devastating Word, and the only survivor’s a wizard. You see why I can’t just let him go, right?”

Tears ran down the young man’s cheeks, but there was nothing physically wrong with him. Either he was tremendously talented for one so young, or one or both of his parents had been very skilled wizards, to have created an amulet that had perfectly protected him and the bed he had been found on from the Devastating Word. It didn’t matter anymore.

“He’s traumatized! He needs a temple, not to be held indefinitely under a silencing charm—”

“Oh, for the love of all your gods, the kid can still read and write. But I can’t let a man who killed his entire family just traipse off to a temple to have his trauma healed. Did it occur to you that maybe a guy who killed his parents and brother and sister maybe deserves to have some trauma?”

“It was obviously an accident! He was wearing pajama pants, for the love of Merenethe Who Heals All Wounds! What kind of devious, evil killer wears pajama pants and lays down in bed before blasting his entire home to ruin?”

“The kind who knows that people like you will assume it was an accident from that,” the detective said sharply. She was irritated that the cleric had felt the need to provide his god’s entire name, like he was offended that she’d invoked all his gods instead of his specific patron. “He needs to be interrogated, and we can’t let him speak until he’s told us his story.”

The man raised a tear-streaked face, brought up his cuffed hands, and with just one of them, signed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again. Both hands, he might have been trying a sigil, though the detective was an experienced enough wizard herself to catch that before it accomplished anything, if he’d tried it. One hand, it was obviously sign, and she relaxed. Only about half of all wizards knew some kind of sign language, which was stupid given the control wizards needed to keep on their speech. Sigils were much more complicated and couldn’t be done accidentally.

“Babababawa” brought a light, misting rain… into a building, if that’s where the wizard said it. It was a hazard of raising wizard babies, that some of them came into their power so early they couldn’t really talk yet, and their baby babble could very easily accidentally land on that one. “Sh’shoot,” an expression thaumnulls might say any time if they started to say “shit”, thought better of it, and instead said “shoot” as a full word without just following from the original sh – more than one wizard teenager had been found that way, growing up among thaumnulls, not knowing what they shouldn’t say. It made existing electrical current surge in power, and could very well blow every circuit in a house, or start a fire. “Kolonel” was a big problem with people learning the language as adults, who didn’t know how to not pronounce the word “colonel”. The only thing it did was create an impenetrable darkness that flowed out to the nearest boundary, if indoors, and a mile or two outdoors, until a wizard said “Kohanoel” to turn it off and restore the light… but people who’d said it by accident and hadn’t known they were wizards didn’t know how to turn it off.

The Devastating Word, however – the detective, being a wizard, did not even think the syllables to herself – was commonly thought to be impossible to say by accident. The “zh” sound wasn’t even common in this language; most native speakers around here wouldn’t even make that sound in their sleep. And here was Elimiss, the mandated social worker who worked with the cops to de-escalate situations and help folks with mental illnesses, insisting that obviously the man – boy, really, he probably wasn’t even out of college – had said it in his sleep, because that was what the plainly traumatized boy had told the cops when they’d arrived. Because a perp couldn’t possibly carefully plan out the excuse he’d use to get treated like a trauma victim and charged only with negligent manslaughter, maybe even go free, after he’d murdered his family. Right.

“Sanavah. I know we have to get his full story from him. But do we really need to treat him as if he’s a dangerous killer?”

Detective Sanavah ofWinterfall looked over at the destroyed house, and then back at the cleric, an expression of disbelief on her face.

Cleric Elimiss Elidanson, adept of Merenethe, sighed deeply. “Yes. I know he killed his family. But if it was an accident—”

“How does anyone say that word accidentally?” Sanavah exploded. “It’s just… not a thing you’d say!”

The boy signed. “We were studying it today. The Dire Words. I’m in magic school.”

Okay, so he was out of college. Magic school, like law school and medical school, was a graduate school; you needed at least a two-year degree to get in. “Why the hell would you be studying the Dire Words?” Sanavah snapped. “How fucking irresponsible would your teachers have to be—”

“Be professional, Sanavah,” Elimiss advised, and she wanted to punch him.

“It’s advanced work. Magical theory. We have to take the Words apart to determine why they work and have so much power,” he signed. “K-E-F-Z-H-I-Z-O-S-S was fascinating, I was working on an analysis all day… but I would never say it intentionally! I was calling it the Kef word.” He signed the individual letters, but ended it with the sign that indicated he was replicating a pronunciation, not a spelling.

Oh. Well. Maybe that changed things. Maybe not; it might still be a really good story. “You know we’ll follow up with your school, right?”

He nodded. “I don’t care what you do to me,” he signed. “Any kind of punishment. I deserve it. I killed Mom and Dad and Lifah and Raoun. But I want the world to know, it was an accident! I loved them! I’d never have said the Kef word in my own house, not without containing it first!”

“This the first time you’ve sleep-talked?”

“No… Mom said I’ve been doing it since I was a baby. Raoun insisted I had to move out and get my own room when I was eight because I was keeping him up at night. My parents turned my dad’s study into my bedroom.” He picked up the amulet. “Mom gave this to me so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt myself by sleep-talking, but I guess she never thought… I mean, I never thought…”

“I’m going to charge his teacher with negligence contributing,” Sanavah said tiredly. “Gonna charge you, too, kid. At least. I’d charge your mother, too, but she’s dead.”

The boy began to cry again, sobbing soundlessly into his hands.

“You believe me now?” Elimiss said. “I’ve had a feeling from Merenethe all this time that this boy isn’t a killer. Not intentionally.”

“That’s great. Very nice of Merenethe. I’m sure ‘a cleric of Merenethe had a feeling’ will be great evidence in court. He’s still coming down to the station.” She spoke to her forensics team. “You about ready to wrap up?”

“Yeah, pretty cut and dried. I think we’ve found all the evidence of standing charms we’re going to, and the Devastating Word would ruin any evidence of any other active spells,” Sofrani, the head forensic wizard, said. “We can head on back now if you want.”

“BTW, got a name,” the analyst, Charron, said. “Bylan Evertide.”

“That is not a real last name.”

“It absolutely is. Got it out of the city database. There’s a whole Evertide clan in and around the city here.”

“It’s going to be all right, Bylan,” Elimiss said. “The police and court, I mean. If you’re telling the truth, we’ll be able to get confirmation from an oneiromancer or a cleric of Morosma. We’ll clear you of wrongdoing.”

“Aside from the negligence and sheer stupidity of a guy who talks in his sleep learning Dire Words and then not putting a silencing charm on himself when he goes to sleep,” Sanavah said. “Elimiss, don’t make promises to the kid that you can’t make good on.”

“I know it’s my fault,” the boy signed. “Charge me with whatever you want. I won’t fight it.”

“Not how it works,” Sanavah said. “You’ll get a public defender, and if you want to plead guilty, you’ll have to convince her that you actually are before she’ll let you plead it.” She looked over at Elimiss. “You took your own pheasant over here, or did you get a taxi?”

“Taxi,” Elimiss said. “I don’t have a place to take care of a pheasant, I live in an apartment.”

“Take Elimiss back with you,” she instructed the driver of the enclosed auto-wagon. “I don’t think the chief’ll be thrilled if he expenses another taxi.”

“Will do,” the wagon driver said, and spoke a word under his breath, that made the magical engine that drove the cart fire to life. Elimiss got in the wagon, and the forensics team either got on their own pheasants, or into pheasant-drawn carriages, because no one got rich enough on a cop salary to ride around in an auto-carriage.

As she saddled up her own pheasant, who squawked in mild irritation because the beast had been enjoying plucking seed pods off the nearby mimosa tree and snacking on them, she gazed over at what had been the Evertide home. “Hell of a thing,” she murmured. “Come on, Basil, let’s get back to the station.”

Basilica, a middle-aged hen pheasant who was known for her reliability and love of sunflower seeds, snorted, flapped her wings, and took off. Running pheasants – named that because they were actually faster on the ground than in the air – had native magic that allowed their wings to work despite their enormous size, and they could easily bear a human or two through the air. A running pheasant could cross the distance back to the station fast enough, if it was through open or forested territory, but being on the ground, in traffic, mildly upset most of them and absolutely freaked Basilica out, so Sanavah had to fly back to the station every time.

#inktober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #writing-prompt-s

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star-and-the-motherverse · 3 years

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Chapter 2 - Rollover

The Butterfly Who Lost Her Wings

Word Count: 3142 | AO3 Mirror | Previous | Next

Summary: It is the day after the disappearance of Star Butterfly, and things still seem uncertain.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ♦ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

In a strange sort of phenomenon, the Kingdom of Mewni’s atmosphere often reflected the queen’s. There were days where this inexplicable aura copied Moon’s feelings well before she was able to fully realize them on her own.

The air that greeted Moon when she awoke the next morning was heavy with uncertainty. Her eyes flickered open to an empty, gloomy infirmary, and she immediately had trouble recalling why she would be here instead of in her bedroom. She laid there, unmoving, as she tried her best to remember.

There was no possible way to cover up the disappearance of her daughter, that much was obvious. People were going to notice in a matter of time. But she silently hoped that she might first have some time to come to terms with what had happened and figure out the best way of explaining it. Public morale was already dangerously low, and the last thing the people of Mewni needed to hear was that a member of the royal family had disappeared.

Magic wasn’t going to be of any help, either, on account of the fritz. Moon felt more out of touch with her magic now than she had when she was first learning to harness it. That in combination with how emotionally drained she felt made her connection with her butterfly form feel distant and inaccessible. Wandless magic simply wasn’t an option. There was a high chance that she wouldn’t be able to use it reliably until something came along to change that fact.

But things had not changed for the better. She suspected it would be a long time before that happened.

Staring at the ceiling, she continued to lay on the mattress, trying to garner the strength to move despite her exhaustion and pounding headache. When she sat upright, a rush of vertigo hit her with force, making her suddenly aware of how sick she felt—not feverish, but nauseous. Where in the world did this come from..?

In that moment, the door to the infirmary opened and a disheveled nurse entered the room. “Oh! Your majesty, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

With the way her head was swimming, Moon was barely able to process the words that she heard. “Dizzy,” was the answer that left her mouth. Not really a feeling so much as it was a symptom, but at least she’d managed to say an actual word.

The nurse crossed the room and stood beside her bed, pressing three fingers flat against her forehead. “Hmm… it doesn’t feel as if you have a fever, thankfully.”

“How…” The nurse waited patiently as she tried to get her question across. “How long have I been asleep..?”

“It’s been about fourteen hours."

“W-what?”That’s absurd! This situation is far too dire for me to be sleeping through half the day! “Why didn’t—“

“You fainted,” the nurse answered for her, falsely assuming that she wanted to know what had happened to her, and not why she hadn’t been woken up before now. “It’s clear that you needed rest, your majesty. These past few days certainly must have been traumatic for you.”

I don’t remember fainting… though, I suppose it’s not likely I would remember that. The more Moon thought about the preceding days, it didn’t seem all that improbable. She had briefly abandoned her queenly duties for the sake of uncovering the source of the magical fritz. It felt as if she had visited the Avarius family several weeks ago, when in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few days at most. Everything had transpired rapidly, giving her no time to breathe. The last time she had slept was when she and Star took refuge in the Magic Sanctuary, and that had only been for a couple of hours.

That explains the exhaustion, though I have no reason to feel as sick as I do. “I-I appreciate the sympathy, but… I can’t afford to waste so much time.”

“You haven’t missed anything, your majesty,” the nurse assured her. “People are being understanding. Manfred has been doing his best to allocate duties in your place.”

Her reassurance only gave Moon more questions. Why is Manfred assuming responsibility during all this? Where is River?

“We’re just trying to make things a bit easier on you,” the nurse went on. Her voice was cautious, as if she felt she was treading on ice. “Your grief appears to be making you ill.”

That’s not a real thing, Moon wanted to retort, but there wasn’t much of a point in arguing. She was no stranger to grief. Not many people were.

She hadn’t been granted much time to grieve her mother’s death, not while tasked with finding a resolution to the war. Back then, the entirety of Mewni had its eyes on her. She could not allow herself to be grief-stricken, with the threat of destruction looming just on their borders. It had to stay bottled up under her surface, so that no one would ever know what was really going on inside her head. Doing so had made her incredibly tired, but never physically ill to the point where it was debilitating.

Swallowing thickly, she made an attempt to stand up, placing a hand on the side table in an effort to stabilize herself. Her opposite hand came up to rest against her forehead as she screwed her eyes shut, the movement setting off a pounding sensation inside of her skull.

“Ah, I’m not sure if it’s the best idea to try to stand,” the nurse objected. “You should eat something first.”

Whatever level of appetite she might’ve had under normal circumstances was rendered irrelevant by how sickly she felt. Food was the last thing she wanted to think about right now. “I have a kingdom to look after.”

“Your health is important, too, your majesty. At the very least, may I bring you some water?”

Moon held her gaze for a moment, before sighing and giving in. “Some water would be great. Thank you.”

She smiled and dipped her head. “Of course.”

Relieved by her cooperation, the nurse was quick to exit the room, leaving Moon alone with her thoughts again. As she rested against the bed frame, her recollection of the events prior to her fainting slowly started to become clearer.

Word had gotten out about Star, despite her attempts to prevent it. She had only spoken to a select few guards about what had really occurred the previous day, not realizing soon enough that it was a mistake. It hadn’t been long before the entire castle erupted into roaring whispers and hushed speculation, and she suspected the castle town was no different. Word only ever traveled fast when it was the least desirable.

And like any good rumor, it was quick to lose its original meaning through miscommunication and generalization. The whispering shifted from “the princess is missing” to “the princess is dead” in a matter of hours. Moon was confronted about it multiple times, by captains and staff members and even a surprisingly outspoken servant, once. She could only refute it so many times before it had started to grate on her and make her question if she really knew the answer.

What are you thinking? Of course you do, she asserted to herself. Star is still alive, she has to be alive. You spoke to her on the day the wand was destroyed.

Moon buried her face in her hands, stifling a disparaged laugh. How crazy did that sound? She could deny that her daughter had been killed with as much insistence as she could muster, but at the end of the day, she had nothing to support her claims. She knew that it was possible to reach Star through the wand, but it was broken now and would therefore be useless in any of her attempts to prove her point.

She drew back her palms from her face, catching a glimpse of her arms. The dark magic that scarred her hands had stretched even further up her forearms, and her gloves were no longer able to hide the markings from view. She had failed to cast the Darkest Spell when she tried yesterday, but apparently it still had some sort of effect on her. If she’d been in her usual headspace, she would have been much more alarmed by the realization that several people now had seen her like this. But all that escaped her was a sigh.

It’s probably for the better that it failed, she admitted. She had resolved to never use that spell again, many years ago. As much as she wished to see Toffee face a gruesome punishment for his crimes against her family, he was the only person in the universe who had any idea of where Star was. He was her best chance at returning her daughter to her.

Of course, that’s assuming he’s willing to cooperate. Moon clenched her fists in irritation. There’s no way to know if catching him will improve any of this… but I have to try, don’t I?

The door to the infirmary opened once more, and the nurse offered her a smile as she returned. “Here’s that water, as promised. I’d like to run a couple more checkups before you head out.”

She bowed her head gratefully. “Thank you for your help.”

The nurse nodded once as she checked through the nearby cabinets. If you can think of anything else you might need, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Moon’s thoughts trailed back towards her previous musings. Her gaze fell onto her arms again. “Actually… if may trouble you for one more thing?”

✧·ﾟ: *·ﾟ✧

With a new set of arm-length gloves and a waning feeling of nausea, Moon made her way to the castle foyer. There were several guards and castle attendants hurriedly bustling about, but a hushed silence quickly fell over the room once people began to take notice of her. Manfred forced his way through the crowd and mercifully broke the silence. “My queen! I’m glad to see you are alright.”

She nodded her head once in acknowledgement. “I trust that you’ve supervised the kingdom well in my absence.”

“I have done my best,” he said, bowing.

Moon nodded her approval while thinking carefully about her priorities. Magic was still on the fritz, and the kingdom—no, all of Mewni—was going to suffer greatly if it was not dealt with. This wasn’t just about her daughter anymore. No, it was so much bigger than that.

Okay. Make a list of what’s important, then. Dwelling on such things won’t be of any use right now.

This fritz was a magical crisis, likely requiring a magical solution. She straightened her posture and assumed a serious demeanor. “Where is Glossaryck? Has he been recovered yet?”

“Nobody has found him or the Book of Spells.”

That was unfortunate. As difficult as it was to understand Glossaryck at times, Moon still found herself saddened by the fact that he was still missing. Recovering Ludo should have restored some sort of normalcy in her life, but it sounded like it wasn’t going to be nearly as simple as that. “Then, where is my husband?”

“Erm, well… we aren’t entirely sure, your majesty,” Manfred explained, his voice sounding rather apologetic. “That monster, Ludo, um… he ‘Levitato-ed’ him while he was in power. B-but I assure you we have scouts looking for him now, all across Mewni.”

“Well, if it was something that Ludo did, it can’t be all that bad.” Normally, the mere thought of such a thing would have amused Moon, but as far as she was concerned, she was lucky. “How is Ludo, anyway? Where is he?”

“In the castle prison, as you requested. He hasn’t said much of anything since he was placed there.”

Moon thought about it for a moment. “He should know where Glossaryck is. I’ll speak with him later.”

“I’ll be sure to put in a word to the guards,” Manfred promised. “What else do you wish to see done?”

“Recovering King River and the Book of Spells are our most pressing matters currently. From the sound of it, you’ve done a good job of prioritizing these things.”

“Oh, well…” Manfred mulled over his next words cautiously. “I had thought that you’d… forgive my bluntness, your majesty, but what do you intend to do about the princess?”

The silence in the room only grew denser as dozens of gazes watched, curious to see what her answer would be. Since Manfred had tossed the question into the air, he’d allowed them to get their answers without having to ask her themselves.

“At the very least,” he continued, “Don’t you think we should make some sort of statement about what’s happened to her?”

“There’s nothing to say. Until Toffee is found and captured, I don’t want to speak on this matter publicly.”

The room erupted into confusion, with so many people speaking at once that it was nearly impossible to decipher what was being thrown her way.

“But how long will that take—”

“—you would dare postpone—“ “—think the people will start to notice—”

“—death of a royal is far more—“

“—mourning of your own daughter—“

“—won’t make it go away—“

“—expect the other Kingdoms of Mewni to react—”

“Enough!” Moon shouted in frustration, her voice projecting over the entire crowd. “There’s nothing that I can do for her now, not while magic is so unreliable. I have no choice but to wait until the situation changes.”

“B-but certainly, your majesty, the people would be more than understanding if you needed time to mourn. If anything—“

“Star is alive,” she cut him off, declaring her statement with as much certainty as she could muster. “I know that she is. I haven’t lost her yet, and I won’t allow that to happen, I swear it on my life.”

Her audience shared wary, uncertain glances amongst each other. A familiar face, Lady Whosits, stepped forwards. “Do you know where she is?”

“…Not exactly,” Moon sighed. “It’s not somewhere that any of you can reach, let alone myself.”

Unspoken words travelled across the faces of the crowd. Even if no one dared to speak them aloud, the questions still met Moon with unrelenting force. Doubts crept into her subconscious. Even if Star is still alive… if she’s stuck somewhere where I can’t reach her, is that really any different? Is it better? Is it worse?

She couldn’t allow herself to show hesitation. Clenching her fists at her side, she stated, ”My daughter is a fighter, that much I know. I will never make the mistake of underestimating her, not again. You all would do well to learn the same and stop propagating these baseless rumors.“

The beat of silence that followed was chilling. Not one of them appeared to be willing to debate her directly. Hushed murmurs spread through the crowd, but Manfred was quick to start ushering guards out of the room.

“You heard the queen! We shall focus our efforts on the capture and containment of this ‘Toffee’ character. Now, shoo! Leave her be!”

As the crowd dispersed, Moon was able to pick out a face among the crowd that she hadn’t noticed until now. He was standing off to the side, near the royal songstrel and his group of performers. Admittedly, Moon didn’t know much about the extent of his and Star’s friendship—it really wasn’t any of her business—but she had gathered that they were close. This was likely affecting him in a similar manner.

“Marco? You’re still here on Mewni?”

He hadn’t been looking at her directly, and startled at the mention of his name. He glanced over his shoulder sheepishly. “Oh, yeah… I was planning on leaving soon, I promise. I got a bit sidetracked, sorry.”

“No, it’s not a problem, it’s just… don’t you have your own family you need to return to?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t leave with a clean conscience if I didn’t apologize to these guys for leaving them behind.”

“And like we said,” Ruberiot spoke up, unable to mask the smug grin on his face. “The resistance never forgets.”

The jester, Foolduke, slugged Ruberiot in the shoulder and cast a glare in his direction. “Don’t listen to him, Marco. We totally understand.”

Marco smiled appreciatively at her—and the mime, too, who pantomimed a big grin across her face. He turned back to Moon, and exhaustion found its way back into his expression. “Okay, maybe not just that.” He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “I’m really worried about Star, too.”

“I understand. Really, I do.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and mustered up a sad smile. “But I couldn’t forgive myself if I let something happen to you, too. You should go home. I’m sure that your friends and family are just as worried about you.”

“She’s one of my best friends,” he murmured, looking away. “I don’t want to just go home and do nothing about it… there has to be some way we can help her, right?”

“I’m afraid this is a lot more complicated than any of us could have imagined.” Things were grim, and Moon wasn’t sure if she had the energy to remain optimistic. The heavy uncertainty in the atmosphere was affecting everyone. Even the performers seemed at a loss for words, each one of them glancing away. “If we find out anything, you will be the first to know. I promise.”

Marco frowned, not satisfied with that answer. “I want to stay until River gets back, at least,” he argued. “I have to help somehow, it’s the least I can do!”

Moon attempted to consider potential options, but there really wasn’t anything he could do that wouldn’t put him at risk of getting roped into this mess any more than he already had. Toffee was simply far too dangerous. Moon had assumed he knew this, too, if their encounter with Toffee yesterday was anything to go by.

Wait, she realized. Why would he have known to be afraid of Toffee? Unless…

“You can help by telling me what you know about Toffee,” she decided. “I know now that Star faced him before, and I assume you were aware of that.”

His eyes widened in surprise at the mention of Toffee. He took a moment to process before sighing and confirming her suspicions as correct. “Yeah, I… I was there, actually.”

“I need to know the full extent of what happened. If I can try to understand his motivations, it might make it easier to predict his movements and track him down.” It would be good to know how much Star’s been keeping from me, too, Moon admitted, fully recognizing a part of her incentive for learning the full story.

“I’ll try to remember as much as I can,” Marco promised.

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #moon butterfly #marco diaz #motherverse #tbwlhw #immersive

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Trouble - Ralph Anderson & Reader (The Outsider)

Our friend the “&” is back-! That means Platonic fic ahead-!

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #mendotagsquad

Ralph Anderson + 80 - “Does he know about the baby?” Requested by Anon

Dearest Anon, If you would like me to re-write this a little less platonic and much more romantic I certainly will. But I just really like the way this turned out 🙈 I hope you can still enjoy it how it is

Author’s Note: So, by all technicalities this can actually be set in ‘The Outsider’ show canon---! I haven’t messed with anyone, or made them disappear or... I mean, yeah this is unprecedented territory but here we are!

This is certainly one for the subverted expectations list! 😁 It’s also my first time ever writing Jeannie so uhm, be gentle! I think I did okay..! Disclaimer: The Outsider/The Outsider HBO has nought to do with me / lyrics and gifs not mine

Premise: All Ralph Anderson wants you to do is press charges. He can’t force you, only guide you. But maybe something will tip the scales and send you running to him instead...

Words: 5187

Warnings: Domestic Abuse TW / some talk about Derek / Swearing

___ Would you bleed for me? Lick it off my lips like you needed me? Let's cause a little trouble Oh, you make me feel so weak I bet you kiss your knuckles Right before they touch my cheek Would you lie for me? Cross your sorry heart and hope to die for me? Would you pin me to a wall? Would you beg or would you crawl? Stick a needle in your hungry eyes for me? Go on and light a cigarette, set a fire in my head Set a fire in my head, tonight When you met me when you met me You told me you were gonna get me But I've got my mind, made up this time 'Cause there's a menace in my bed Can you see his silhouette? Can you see his silhouette? Can you see his silhouette?

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It's time to run when you see him clenching his hands She's just a woman, never again... I'm terrified that she'll wind up dead in his hands She's just a woman, never again Seen it before but not like this Been there before but not like this Never before have I ever seen it this bad She's just a woman, never again Never again Father's a name you haven't earned yet You're just a child with a temper Haven't you heard don't hit a lady Kickin' your ass would be a pleasure

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You pressed your hands together between your thighs, tapping your foot to release your nervous energy, not looking up at the man asking you questions but instead staring at the papers on his desk. It was the position you took up every single time you were in here – that was never likely to change. The cup of coffee he’d offered you sat to one side, and you’d probably let it go cold before you took a sip. Ralph Anderson tapped his pen against the sheet of paper in front of him and waited for you to answer his question. He never ever wondered why he bothered, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a word out of you. Sighing gently, he tried again; “Y/N…” You raised your eyes to him, “All you have to do is tell me what happened.” “Nothing happened.” “Y/N, it’s the 3rd call this week. This week! You know this is in strictest confidence.” “Nothing’s wrong-!” His brows furrowed; “All you have to do is tell me… We surely have more than enough…” He trailed, it was so hard not to push you, but it had gone on long enough. And it hurt Ralph every time you waked in here. “Y/N, I promise you this’ll never happen again, all you have to do is give me something.” “He didn’t do anything.” Your answer was still adamant. Ralph sat back and bit his lip – both of you knew that was a lie. But you’d been in this relationship for more than just a few years, and you didn’t see a way out of it; even with Ralph Anderson offering you his outstretched hand. You couldn’t count the number of times the neighbours had called the police to incidents that happened between you and your boyfriend, and on more than a few occasions Ralph Anderson had accompanied the officers. He was sweet and kind, and he would always stay and talk to you – not questions that everyone else asked, but just to see how you were doing, how work was going, what you’d been up to lately. Ralph made it his mission to know as much about you as he could, just to give you a friend in Cherokee City – he was sure the neighbours didn’t help by calling the department out to you, though. He’d seen his fair share of bruises covered in make-up, but this was continuous. “Jeannie said you stopped going to see her.” “I’m fine, it helped.” Ralph stood, moving around his desk with his chair he sat and took your hand, ‘He’s still doing this to you. You’re not fine… You know that’, but that wasn’t what he said. “Y/N, she’s worried about you.” Of course he’d talked to his wife about you, and eventually referred you to the shelter she volunteered at. She was just as lovely as he was and there were things that you could tell her that you wouldn’t be able to tell Ralph, as a man of the law. Jeannie helped you sort through your head, but it wasn’t always easy to get out of the house and see her – even harder when your partner had found out what you’d been doing. “I can’t go.” Ralph sighed again; sometimes there was nothing he wanted to do more than embrace you – but he was a professional, and he’d handle this professionally, “Darling, I really… I’d like something from you for this report… the tiniest little detail, I-” “The neighbours are just nosy! They just thought they heard something! They didn’t!” You snapped, probably rightfully, Ralph had likely just overstepped his mark. He knew that was conversation over for another day – he would never push you. “Okay… okay.” Ralph held his hands up, nodding, “I’m sure they did. You know how they can be.” You knew what he was doing, he pacified you instead of demanding more. “But if you can’t get down to the Shelter, we can figure something else out, I can bring Jeannie up here… you could meet her for coffee or something. Y/N, she cares about you. She said you were doing well, which is what we all want to hear.” “Thank you, Ralph.” You swallowed, looking into his eyes hopefully, “Will that be all?” He sighed again with a reluctant nod, “Yeah. Yeah that’s all.” “Alright… Goodbye, Detective. Say hi to Jeannie for me…” You straightened, pulling on your jacket and without another word you walked from his office. Jack Hoskins was ambling towards the evidence room and you knew that you weren’t about to leave without crossing paths with him too. Both detectives had similar agendas when it came to your relationship; each one with a different idea on how to fix things. It sometimes made you glad that Ralph was the one who turned up first, and therefore got to handle things. Jack had been around before, and that never ended well. “You okay kiddo?” You kept your eyes to the floor, hands huddled in your pockets and voice quiet; “Yeah…” not willing to engage him in conversation, you made a beeline for the exit. Jack watched you say a quick goodbye to some of the other officers who had come to know your presence pretty well and sighed, turning to Ralph’s office; “Okay, what did you do to her?” Ralph folded his arms with a sharp look; “Oh, come off it!” Jack raised an eyebrow, “You still not arrested that son of a bitch-!?” “She won’t press charges. I can’t do anything.” “Fuck! You know I see him down those bars and I just know what’s gonna happen…” Ralph’s look was pointed, “Should you be in those bars downtown, Jack?” Jack glared at him, “This isn’t about me.” He knew a thing or two about abusive situations, and it pained him as much as it did Ralph to watch you walk out of here and back to the boy you lived with (Jack wasn’t about to call him a man.) “If you’re not careful Ralph, you’re gonna get called to a murder scene at that house, mark my words.” He looked back to watch you stroll out of their offices, “And then what?” *** Ralph Anderson wasn’t about to lie, it was certainly a real fear of his. That one day the call would come in and it wouldn’t just be yelling, screaming and breaking things… Every time he heard your address being repeated back to a concerned citizen, he found himself halfway out the door. If he was a little more Jack inclined, he probably would have wiped this guy of the face of the Earth by now. Unfortunately, that’d be highly illegal – but Ralph sure had thought about it. And no matter what happened, and no matter how many times he tried to coax you into it, you would never press charges. You had, just the once, but that had put you in dire straits and you’d dropped them soon afterwards. He actively encouraged you to go to Jeannie and, as suspected, she loved you. Ralph learned so much more about you just from his wife coming home happy; “You’ll never guess what Y/N is doing…” “Oh! Ralph! I saw Y/N today! She’s looking good! She’s very happy, she told me to say hi!” “That girl is too sweet for her own good, you know, she brought me flowers today?” But when you started missing appointments and then stopped seeing Jeannie altogether, she only got increasingly anxious. She did try to get Ralph to go over and check on you, but Ralph didn’t think that would help you either. You often became the late-night topic of choice as they held each other close; “Why is she even with him-!? She’s such a smart, strong girl!” “I wouldn’t say the abuse is just physical.” “Neither would I, from what she’s told me. But… surely she had family? Someone that can help?” Ralph was surprised to know something Jeannie didn’t, “No… I don’t think she has either parent anymore. And I don’t know about other immediate family.” Jeannie cuddled into his chest with a forlorn sigh, frown on her face, “You need to get her out of there Ralph. You at least need to try…” “Baby…” He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead, “I’m trying… I promise you I’m trying. We’ll do this I promise. I’ll get her back to you; we’ll get her on track.” “Try isn’t good enough for that poor girl.” She huffed, holding him close, “You’re smarter than that Ralph.” “Jeannie, what would you have me do? Legally I can only do so much.” She smiled gently, “You’re a good man, you’ll figure out the answer. You knew the law better than anyone, I know you can do this.” Jeannie kissed him gently goodnight, “I believe in you.” The tricky thing about the man you were with, was his manipulation of everyone else. He usually acted as sweet as anything – and every officer had a hard time pinning anything on him. The evidence might have been all over your body (something else Jeannie used to comment on with a worried expression and hushed tone “Ralph… you should see the bruises…”), but you weren’t about to corroborate. And sometimes neighbours would even change their stories to perhaps I was mishearing. Today, wasn’t one of those days. Ralph and Jeannie were out in town to do their weekend shopping, it was a lovely clear day too – and in fact they’d just been talking about how much they were going to enjoy time out in the garden this afternoon. When a sudden yell caught them both off guard; “YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH-!” The colour very nearly drained from Ralph’s face, and Jeannie gripped his arm a little tighter. “Ralph!” Her voice was urgent, and he nodded, “Yeah, I see ‘em…” You and your other half were a little way up the street, and he had your arm in something more akin to a vice-grip, let alone a firm one. Ralph wasn’t sure scared covered the look on your face either – and your partner looked downright threatening. He took Jeannie’s hands in his, voice low, “Wait here okay, I got her…” Ralph sidled up the street with his hands on his hips – pushing his jacket back enough to flash his CCPD badge and concealed carry. “Y/N.” You instinctively froze at the sound of Ralph’s voice and your eyes hit the floor, he regarded your boyfriend, “You wanna let her go?” “Nothing’s going on here man.” Although there was a nervous flicker in his eyes at the sight of Ralph’s badge. “You don’t need to hold her wrist that tight, c’mon.” Although all it really got Ralph was glared at as he dropped your wrist. “Y/N, you alright?” “I’m fine, Ralph, thank you… We’re okay.” Ralph had to pretend he didn’t see you rubbing your arm with a pained expression. “Yeah, we’re fine.” It was blunt, and made Ralph back up just a little. “Okay, good. Make sure it stays that way…” He narrowed his eyes, “Have a good day. Don’t let me hear anything else out of you this week.” It was threat enough that Ralph hoped would work – and sometimes it did. But once again all you were prepared to do was timidly tell him that everything was alright. And Ralph knew he couldn’t take things into his own hands, no matter how much he wanted to. In truth he’d seen the two of you in public with things getting a little too violent for his tastes before now – but he’d certainly never worried Jeannie with it. He’d always been able to dissolve the situation with a hi and seemingly friendly check in, badge and gun on prominent display. But he’d never heard the guy scream at you before today. Everyone was right – this was going to get so much worse. Even if you wanted to believe it was going to get better. Even if that was because you were disillusioned into doing so. You watched as Ralph walked back to his wife, every so often glancing back at you. Both of them looked more concerned for you than you’d ever seen anyone be. You’d never, ever, wanted to be a bother about this – but you were starting to realise that if anyone could help you out here, it was those two. You bit your lip gently, suddenly feeling guilty for putting them through so much on your behalf with how much they must worry. The only reason Ralph didn’t get more involved and push him away was because he didn’t want his involvement to get you in more trouble; you wished you could tell him that really wouldn’t matter. You needed to be brave and take a chance, but you hadn’t so far… and you weren’t sure what could possibly happen to you that would make you take the leap. As you turned back to him, and realised by the look in his eyes that you were likely to pay dearly for Ralph’s ‘interference’ later – you wondered if it would take the man nearly killing you. And if even then you would still go back… *** The knock at the front door made Ralph and Jeannie look to each other with raised eyebrows. This was certainly an odd time of day for anyone to be making house calls. Jeannie tensed for just a second and he understood why she’d get so worried. “I’ll get it…” Ralph placed his hand over hers, pushing his chair out. The sky was a murky grey, threatening rain any second – why would anyone even want to be out with it looking like this? He opened it hesitantly and stopped dead. Of all the things he might expect to see there, you with a bag slung over your shoulder, crying, was not one of them. “Y/N?!” His voice became urgent, because the second you saw his face you broke down into loud sobs, “Hey, hey it’s okay… It’s okay…” Ralph stepped down to the porch, and you stepped back instinctively from a taller male presence. There were more than just a few marks on your face – including a cut above your eye – and around your wrist. Ralph could guess there were others. That son of a bitch had put his hands on you again, that much was obvious. “I – I – I’m sorry, I-! I just, I-!” You couldn’t form coherent sentences, you weren’t even sure how to say it yet. He motioned with his hands to help you calm down, “It’s okay… Honey, it’s okay. You’re safe, it’s okay.” “I just didn’t know where else to go-!” Your body was still shaking with sobs and Ralph sighed gently, “It’s fine, Y/N, come here…. Please come in – Let’s talk, I’ll make you tea? Coffee? A drink – God, I’m rambling.” He placed a hand to his forehead, “Come on. I promise you, you’re safe here.” You followed him inside and he scanned around outside for any sight that that wretched man of yours might have followed you here – which would have meant an instant arrest. When Ralph didn’t see one, he closed the door and turned back to you, “Let me take your stuff, no, don’t protest.” He was firm, “Come on, darling, make yourself at home, you’re going to be alright…” Jeannie, coming to see what all the fuss was about, gasped as soon as she saw you; “OH! Y/N!” Hands to her mouth to see the state of you, which only sent you into another fit of crying and you ran to her; “Jeannie! I’m sorry-! I’m so sorry--!” “Shhh, silly girl…” She wound her arms around you lovingly, running her hands though your hair, “You came to us. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Her voice was soft and calming, and it just made you sob harder for taking so damn long. Ralph stood back for a moment with a concerned smile on his face; on the one hand he was glad you were here. He would be able to protect you better from this distance. But you were still going through it – and now you were here, he wondered if he could finally get you to give him the information he needed. Ralph shouldn’t be thinking like that but he couldn’t help it. You were always adorable and sweet, so kind and desperate to see the good in people even when they hurt you. You were never one to be a bother, no matter what it cost you. One of the reasons why you had never wanted to say anything about what was happening to you – that much was already obvious to him. But considering how much everyone else loved you – especially around the precinct – they’d all got pretty protective in their own way. Ralph knew if you pressed charges now, the department was coming down on that asshole like a ton of bricks. He cleared his throat, making you slip from Jeannie’s arms and turn back to him; “I don’t want to do this, but you know I have to. As a detective and overly concerned citizen I have to know-” “Ralph!” Jeannie chided him, but you nodded “It’s okay, I get it.” You squeezed her hands gently, “He needs me to do this. And I need to do this too…” “Okay…” She didn’t look like she felt it was, but she let you follow Ralph into his office work space anyway. He sat you down, handing you a box of tissues, because you were still crying. “Take your time. I have plenty of it…” Ralph took the seat next to you, and your hands in his; he wanted to help calm you down – and it wasn’t a case yet, this wasn’t misconduct. It was just caring. “I know you don’t want to bother anyone, but coming here was the right choice. You know that, right?” You nodded, “I… I probably have for a long time…” “Do you-” Ralph hesitated, “Do you mind me asking what changed?” You bit your lip hard, eyes suddenly widening. You stayed silent for so long that Ralph thought that maybe you wouldn’t talk, maybe you would take it all back – maybe you would decide talking right now was after all not the best idea and you’d leave. He wasn’t sure he could stop you leaving the house but he’d sure try. Ralph couldn’t allow you to go back now you’d come so far – and Jeannie would never forgive him. He was about to tell you that you didn’t need to divulge to him now, that you could wait for a better time. A better place. When you’d calmed yourself and collected your thoughts on whether you really wanted to go through with this. Instead you took a deep breath, and with it came enough confidence to drop a bombshell he didn’t quite expect; “I’m pregnant.”

Ralph froze instantly – a thousand thoughts rushed to his brain. Pregnant!? Now what your significant other was doing to you wasn’t just affecting one person – that had so many implications in a court of law. All he could think about was Jack Hoskins affrontedly asking him what he would do if you ended up dead – now Ralph had to worry about two lives being taken; and he couldn’t stand for that either. “Well, shit.” He blew out a breath, unsure of what else to say – Congratulations didn’t seem very apt for the situation now, did it? “Does he know about the baby-?!” You shook your head slowly, and placed your fingers to your lips for a moment, pondering the situation, “No… you’re the only person I’ve told.” You gasped your next breath, swivelling to him; “Is that crazy-!? That’s crazy-!” He smiled, for lack of something better to do – but it was sweet and sympathetic; “You’re a brave girl, Y/N, you know that?” “I stuck up for him for so long, I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use Ralph.” “Hey…” He reached out, hand rubbing your shoulder gently, “Today you took the first step, that’s the hardest. I’m proud of you.” Then he chuckled, “We’re proud of you.” “I guess it’s about pressing charges, now right?” Ralph didn’t dare make himself look hopeful, it was bigger than that now; “One step at a time, Y/N…” His hand moved in gentle circles over your back, and it was weird for you to have a man touch you soothingly, you tensed and he stopped. “Sorry.” “No, It’s just…” You knew you didn’t need to finish the sentence; “-I mean, I guess I’m just scared of what happens now. But I knew I couldn’t stay, if he found out… things could get worse right? What if it got so bad that-” “Hey-! Hey-!” Ralph hushed you, “Don’t panic yourself…” He wasn’t sure how much he could reassure you, but he wanted to make sure you knew how truly safe you were. “He may just use it as another method of control, but you’re here now. We have a guest room, and you’re welcome to stay here. Jeannie will reiterate this much better than me! But my goodness…” He blew out a breath; “You are really something.” Then you were crying again, this time in relief, and you threw your arms around him; Ralph froze again, knowing that sudden movements may well startle you away from him once more; “It’s okay. Darling it’s okay…” He returned to soothing you gently. “Thank you, Ralph Anderson,” you sobbed, “you have no idea how much this means-!” “Hey…!” Although Ralph thought he did, “You took that step yourself. Give yourself the credit you deserve. You’ll get through this – And Jeannie and I will help, I promise you that.” You decided it might be best for you to calm down again before the two of you wandered back to Jeannie, who was waiting patiently for you. She held out her arms, and you found yourself running to her and taking her hands. “Jeannie…” Although you’d already confessed it to her husband, you found yourself having to take yet another deep breath in order to tell her; “Jeannie, I’m pregnant.” “Oh-! Oh. Honey.” Her hands left yours to delicately frame your face for a moment, “Honey…” before she pulled you to her in a tight hug, “You have us now, I promise… You know that don’t you?” You nodded into her shoulder, vision already blurring and just like that you were both crying again. Ralph leant against the wall for a moment keeping his ever-watchful eyes on you. But Jeannie caught his gaze, and with that same careful smile Ralph just nodded – he was aware she’d be thinking about Derek right now, because the same thought was running through his head. *** They left you to settle down and gather your thoughts in the guest room. You certainly had a lot to process right now, and both of them understood that. The Andersons had been through enough themselves. Jeannie hovered in the hallway though, and Ralph – recognising this behaviour – brought her coffee. “Hey, you alright?” At least she didn’t nod, because he’d know that was a lie – Jeannie was very clearly worried about you; still, she thanked him for the coffee. “What should we do?” “She’s not ours. We’re not her family.” Ralph was only being logical here. You were passed adoption age. If you didn’t want to stay, they couldn’t force you to. You were your own woman. The only hope now was that you’d come to them – you wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t considering staying away. “Why can’t we be? She has no one.” He hesitated, tipping his head thoughtfully. “She won’t be Derek, you know that too, don’t you?” Jeannie shot him a look, as if she needed reminding – but then softened, reaching out for him; “She needs a family Ralph. We can give her one… Our boy has nothing to do with it. But tell me you don’t feel this too?” He smiled gently; “Stronger than I’ve felt in a long while.” Ralph gave a nod, “But I think you should ask her. It will mean more from you.” “Me!?” But he could already see the joy light up on Jeannie’s face, “But you’ve dealt with her more than me!” “I’m still the law. The shelter has done wonders for her, it should certainly be you…” Jeannie clutched her coffee to her chest for a moment, and then nodded; “We’ll let her settle, I’ll take her some things and check in… and… ask.” Ralph nodded, “I’ll be there for moral support too, of course!” He chuckled, “Not that I think you need it.” He kissed her forehead and walked off to retrieve his own coffee, but Jeannie called him back. “Ralph.” “Mhm?” He turned. “Please… don’t tell me you’re just doing this for me – because of Derek?” “Baby,” He shook his head, “that girl, she needs us – right now she’s gonna need more support than she’s needed in her entire life. Even if our boy was still here, both of us know we’d offer her the exact same.” “It might take some getting used to,” she laughed, “another baby.” He grinned, “A baby with a baby, for sure. But we got this-! We certainly… got this.” Then he paused, “AH-! I best ring Jack, He’ll, uh… wanna know she’s okay.” Jeannie nodded, “Do it -! Give that man something to be cheerful about-!” Ralph’s laugh was clearly ironic, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the tone of it – “Yeah, right!” *** When Jeannie came back to check in on you, still sitting on the bed staring out of the window, she carried with her some towels and clothing. “Hey… Sweetheart, you doing okay?” “Oh. Yes-! Thank you… Both of you.” Ralph stood in the doorway, and you rose to greet them “This is all so very sweet of you.” Your smile conveyed all your gratitude; “You didn’t have to do this…” Jeannie took a deep breath, before smiling herself, “Y/N, would- would you like to stay?” “Oh… If it wouldn’t be any trouble? I… know Ralph said I could use this spare room but, I dunno, it might take me a while to gather my thoughts… if that’s okay? I mean-” “No. No, honey, would you like to stay?” You instantly blushed, looking away from them both and fiddling with the hem of your shirt you stammered your way through half a sentence, “Oh I… Oh-! I… I…” you laughed nervously, and a little smile appeared. By the time you looked back to the Andersons you were beaming. “No one has ever… wanted me to…” You nodded vigorously, “I would love to stay- I really-” you looked to Ralph to check that this was a real thing, and he was smiling just as encouragingly as his wife, ‘oh my god, they are the sweetest couple…’ You thought you might cry again; “Thank you!” “Welcome to the family.” Jeannie giggled as Ralph stepped down into the room to put his arm around her. “Make yourself at home.” “Because it is.” Jeannie affirmed, “It’s your home now.” “Home.” You tucked your hair back letting the word resound in your head, it wasn’t one you’d used in a long time… You’d not known something as safe as a home since you were very small. “That sounds nice…”

*** Your legs were tucked up under your chair and you were biting your bottom lip so hard that Ralph thought you were bound to leave tooth marks if you weren’t careful. He’d offered to drive you over to the clinic today as his schedule was relatively clear. Jeannie was working or she’d be here too – but she had left you this morning with a hug and a “Good luck, honey!” that you appreciated. Ralph reached out and took your hand in his; “How you feeling?” “I don’t… I don’t even know.” You laughed, and everything about you screamed nervous, “I guess I never expected to be here.” “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ve done this before so that makes me practically professional!” He was glad that made you laugh a little harder, and this time he chuckled along with you. “What’s it like?” “Well. I can only speak for the useless bystander. But the first time you see everything on an ultrasound…” He shook his head, happy to be talking about Derek positively for once, “…Incredible. A completely indescribable joy. I mean I know that… he is involved here but, I think it’s still going to be an amazing feeling for ya.” You nodded, turning to him with a big smile, “Thank you, for being here.” “Of course, sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss it.” Your name was called and you swallowed hard, almost frozen to the spot again. Ralph pushed your back encouragingly and you stood slowly, before turning to him; “I can’t do this without you, Detective.” “Y-You…” Ralph couldn’t help but light up, “You really want me in there?” “Mhm!” You nodded, chewing your lip and holding out your hand for his again. Ralph stood, enveloping your hand in his; “Alright. Together!”

You couldn’t exactly say that you were relaxed and, with how hard you were squeezing Ralph’s hand, he wouldn’t have said that either. But you were trying to calm yourself down, there were a lot of things to be nervous about, considering what you had come from… Ralph’s other hand stroked your shoulder affectionately, and he kept repeating that it was all going to be okay. In reality you had no doubt that he was right, but you were still scared. Or maybe how you felt was excitement? You weren’t even sure you could tell the difference. The sonographer smiled and turned to you, “All looks healthy and as it should!” Relief flooded you, “R-Really?” “Mhm…!” She nodded. “Would you like to see?” Your nod was eager as she turned the screen, and you felt tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. You weren’t about to stop them. “Hey, little one…” You whispered, wiping your eyes. Your grip on Ralph’s hand loosened significantly, but you still kept your hand in his. Ralph Anderson couldn’t help but get emotional, the last time he’d seen something like this it had been Derek on the screen. And he was as joyful about this as he was back then. Even though it was different – it didn’t feel so different to him. He squeezed your hand and you turned to him. Both of you had that same expression on your face; and both of you found your excitement indescribable. He gave you a soft wink; ‘I told you there was nothing to worry about!’ You could do naught but beam back, ‘I know. Thank you!’ You looked back to the screen and already you couldn’t wait to tell Jeannie. Maybe you’d ask Ralph if he could drop you off at the shelter… you weren’t sure you’d be able to save it until she got home. You allowed yourself to laugh, a gentle sound, and smiled again. ‘Welcome to the Anderson family-!’

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14/16 - 2 to go!!! 🙊🙊🙊

Thank you for reading!! This is another request where I’d really like to give it a sequel, so I really hope you enjoyed it! 🙏🥰🙊

#Ralph Anderson #The Outsider #ben mendelsohn #my first go at writing Jeannie is hopefully okay! i think I got her attitude right!#the outsider hbo #I have never actually used Jack in a Ralph fic (99% of the time because its set after the book/show)#So I really like that I got the opportunity to use him here - especially as he'd get exactly what she was going through #Ralph Anderson & Reader #Ralph x Jeannie #I got to keep Marriage Goals!#172 #Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Smol Bean Drabbles #TW Domestic Abuse #Domestic Abuse TW

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fandomfanfics12 · 4 years

Text

We Are A Family-Part 31

Title: We Are A Family. Pairings: Steve x tony, Peter x Wade, Nat x Clint, Sam x Bucky. Part: 31/? Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slowburn. Summary: When Nat comes into the avengers tower with baby Peter Parker, the avengers didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. But now that Peter is here,Steve and Tony both feel protective over him. It doesn’t help that Peter hates everyone other than Steve and tony. But as Steve and tony raise Peter, they start to fall for one another. Will this superfamily work out or will it all turn to hell? A/N: I’m going to start wrapping up this fic within the next couple parts but i have a lot planned. I’ve been hit with insane amounts of inspiration whilst in quarantine, hope everyone is staying safe

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30

Steve couldn’t believe it when tony had first told him. They were going to get back together, they were going to get Peter back, and then things would be right again. They’d get to live out the rest of their lives together and happy and in love. I love you Steve. It had taken Steve’s breath away to hear it, it was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to hear again. Each passing day he’d longed for the sound of tony’s voice forming those words, but he hadn’t thought he’d ever actually get to this point. Get tony back and explain himself.

“When this is over, we’re going to therapy.” Tony said as he made his cup of coffee.

“What?” Steve shook his head and Tony looked up at him.

“We’re all going to need it Steve. You especially, this is a fight you’ve been battling for years.” Steve looked down at his hands.

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t but he wasn’t ready to admit that yet.

“Then go for me, so I feel less alone.”

“We’ll talk about it when we get back, once we bring everyone back.” They were waiting for the others. Because they were going into space to get back Peter.

“You sure I can’t come with you?” Tony asked and Steve met the eyes of his husband.

“You’re still recovering. I don’t want to lose you too.” Steve said and Tony nodded his head.

“alright, I’ll have dinner waiting for us.”

“Chinese?” Steve quirked an eyebrow and Tony narrowed his eyes.

“if you’re lucky.”

“Thank you.”

“I might even make us some cookies.” Steve couldn’t contain the grin as he thought back to that one night in his tiny kitchen in his apartment, all those years ago.

“wait until we get back. It can be a family activity.” Tony nodded and Steve crossed the room to him. He wrapped his arms around tony and rested his chin atop Tony’s head. They were going to bring Peter back, and then they would recover from this nightmare.

“Stay safe out there Stevie.” Tony whispered and Steve nodded but still didn’t let go.

“Rest up here. I love you.” Steve kissed Tony’s forehead and forced himself to step back.

“I love you too.” Nat had complained that the two of them were extra gushy with one another, but she’d been smiling as she said it. she said it was good to see them together again, after all this time.

“I’ll see you soon.” Steve promised and then left the room before he kissed Tony for real.

Tony had everything set up, he’d ordered the food and set the table and had bought ingredients for cookies. He hummed to himself as he got everything organised, they were getting Peter back.

“I should have gone with them.” Wade complained and Tony glanced to the young teenager. It was still adjustment, with all the scars. But Tony was getting used to them.

“we’re still not sure of your powers yet.”

“Cut off a limb and it grows back.”

“That doesn’t make you invincible Wade.” Tony told him and Wade looked down at the floor.

“I don’t know if Steve told you this, but I was meant to go in the snap.” Tony’s hands stilled and he frowned.

“meant to go?”

“I started to get all dusty, started to disappear, and then I didn’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Bruce said it was this new power I have. My cells regenerated faster than the stones could get rid of me.” Tony just stared at Wade in disbelief.

“so you’re telling me you’re meant to be…” Tony trailed off and Wade nodded.

“I should have gone with them.” Tony looked down at the floor. They’d be back soon if things had gone to plan. They’d come back home and Peter would be with them and Tony’s life could get back on track. The plates rattled on the dining room table and Tony nearly collapsed with relief. Right on time. He thought to himself as he and Wade rushed downstairs and outside onto his not-so-green-grass-anymore. The ship was landing, they were back. Tony’s heart hammered in his chest, he could hug Peter again. Could move on from that awful memory of Peter begging for his life. Tony hobbled and Wade helped him over to the ship as the doors opened and the Avengers emerged. Steve was the last one out.

“What happened? Where’s Peter?” Tony asked and Steve pulled Tony into a tight embrace. Everyone was watching, everyone knew the news Steve was about to tell him.

“I don’t know what to do.” Steve sobbed and Tony clung to him.

“We’re bringing him back, what’s going on? What happened out there?” Tony whispered as Steve’s body shuddered against his own.

“Thanos…” Bruce’s voice trailed off. Tony craned his neck to look at Bruce but his view was blocked by Steve’s shoulder.

“Stevie?” Tony whispered and Steve’s grip tightened.

“What the hell happened out there?” Wade asked and Tony rubbed Steve’s back. Whatever it was they could fix it, whatever had been said or done could be fixed. They just needed to get Peter, they’d be alright.

“When Thanos used the stones, it was so he could destroy them.” Tony didn’t understand, usually he knew what was going on, could analyse a situation perfectly, but he didn’t understand.

“What’s happening?” Tony whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

“We lost.” Natasha said, answering Tony’s question.

“I know we lost!” Tony snapped and Steve finally pulled back, his need to comfort his husband more dire than the grief.

“Tony…” Steve’s voice was hoarse but Tony just shook his head. He wasn’t listening to them, he didn’t want to listen to them.

“That’s what we do. We’re the a-vengers. We lose but then we fix it, that’s what we’re doing. We’re getting the stones and we’re bringing everyone back and-“ Steve placed both hands on Tony’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. Steve’s were red and shining and Tony hated seeing Steve like that. Hair all ruffled and eyes swollen.

“Stevie?” Tony whispered and Steve’s eyes squeezed shut.

“There’s no stones Tony. There’s no way to bring them back. Everyone’s gone.” Steve’s voice shook with each word and Tony went to step back but Steve held tight.

“No, but Peter, we need the, I have to bring him back. You don’t get it, he begged me. begged Steve. He knew what was happening and I have to-how could you say that?” Tony began to cry and Steve nodded, pulling tony into his chest. Steve clung to the Captain America uniform his mind unravelling. I don’t want to go. the sobs racked out of him and his whole body began to tremble.

Steve clung to his husband as he sobbed, the others all looked away and shed their own tears. Steve had been a mess and probably wouldn’t have made it back onto the ship had Natasha not dragged his ass back onto it. the whole time he wondered what he’d say to Tony, but now the words were out there in the world and Steve was crumbling. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“He’s our son.” Tony sobbed and Steve nodded.

“I know.” Steve whispered, where did they go from here?

Wade felt like he’d been submerged into a fish bowl. The whole world looked funny and no one was talking. Well, they were talking but he couldn’t hear them. Couldn’t make out the words. No one was looking at Wade, too focused on Tony and Steve who were visibly breaking before everyone. But Wade couldn’t comprehend it.

“Wade?” someone asked but he wasn’t sure who it was. The only thing that could brutally shatter Tony and Steve would have been losing Peter. For real. Which would have meant that they’d lost, but the Avengers didn’t lose. At least not the second time around.

“No.” Wade whispered and wrapped his arms around himself. There was no way that his dorky best friend and boyfriend was dead. No way that Peter was gone, not his Peter.

“Wade?” someone had wrapped an arm around him but he shrugged them off.

“No. no fucking way.” He stumbled backwards and then he was running, bolting for the compound. Once inside he raced upstairs and found his phone in the kitchen, he dialled Peter without a second thought.

Ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…ring..ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…ring

“Hey it’s Peter, you know what to do.” And then the god awful beep.

“Petey? It’s me, I just, there’s no way you died. That’s not possible, not when I’m still here. I think we can both agree that you’re the better one out of the two of us and it’s wrong that I’m here and you’re not. We were supposed to bring you back and something went wrong and I just, you need to call me back. You need to be here. Please Petey. I don’t know how to breathe without you here so you call me and I’ll come get you.” Wade hung up and began to tremble. He was gone, he wasn’t going to call Wade back because he was gone.

Wade curled in on himself, a cry falling out of him as he curled up in a ball on the floor, he was really gone.

Steve felt like an empty shell as he walked into the kitchen three days later. He poured himself a cup of coffee and Natasha watched him carefully.

“How are you doing?” her own voice was raw, Steve’s hand trembled slightly and he spilled coffee.

“Fuck.” He whispered underneath his breath and Natasha snorted.

“good to know.” Steve grabbed some paper towel and began to clean up the mess he’d made.

“I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Grieve?” Steve hung his head and let out a slow deep exhale.

“I feel wrong for grieving Peter.” He admitted and Natasha straightened.

“Why? He was your son.”

“but that’s just it, I wasn’t around. I wasn’t a good dad to him, for years. He’d changed so much since I’d left the picture that it makes me wonder if Tony and I are grieving the same person. I mean, Peter died in Tony’s arms and I wasn’t there and I feel terrible for grieving and being so broken because Tony is so good to me and I just…” Steve trailed off and Nat sighed.

“You didn’t actively walk out on them Steve. That was Thanos’ doing and you know it.”

“But I still wasn’t there, I still missed out. I didn’t know Peter the way I should have. I wasn’t his dad in the end.” Steve drank from the coffee, his head was pounding with exhaustion. Natasha began to laugh. “What?” he snapped, not having the patience for her.

“I’m going to take this opportune moment to remind you that I was the one who brought Peter in. I was the one that found a baby on our doorstep and hand delivered your son to you and Tony. And I remember the agreement that we all made, that we’d all take care of him. Tony had first watch, then you and then Clint.” She was smiling but Steve still didn’t understand.

“I remember Nat, what’s your point?”

“When you gave Peter to Clint nothing happened, but when you left he started crying and screaming. I was on the phone with Clint for six hours trying to help him with Peter but it didn’t matter what we did. Not until Clint turned on the tv and an old recording of an interview with you came on.” Steve tilted his head, he’d never heard this story before.

“and then what?”

“He just stopped crying. And then the next day Clint brought the kid in, handballed him to you and Tony. Even as a baby, Peter knew who his parents were. He knew you were his father and he chose you just as much as you chose him. Don’t forget that. Maybe you weren’t there as much in the end as you would have liked, but you had no control over that. But he still wanted you, even in the end.” Steve shuddered, and then Peter said that pops should be here.

“Where do we go from here?” Steve asked and Natasha sighed.

“I’m not giving up on bringing them back, there’s no way that Thanos just destroyed the things that created the universe.” She shook her head and Steve rose a brow.

“They’re gone.”

“Just because he said that doesn’t mean it’s true. We didn’t get the chance to interrogate him further because Thor cut off his head, but I’m not giving up. I can’t.” Steve nodded, glad to know that someone was still fighting to bring everyone back.

“Then I’ll help you. I don’t want Tony to know though.”

“because keeping secrets from Tony has worked so well before.” Steve set his cup of coffee down.

“because I can’t give him false hope again. I can’t tell him that we’re bringing Peter back if we’re not. I won’t do that to him.” Nat nodded.

“if you say so. I strongly advise against it but you’re a grown man.” Steve nodded, he couldn’t break Tony’s heart again. Couldn’t tell Tony that he had failed again. He’d work with Natasha, bring Peter back, he didn’t care how long it took. He would do this, Thanos wouldn’t get away with this.

#superfamily #super husbands #stony #stony fic #Avengers #The Avengers #avengers fic #avengers fluff #avengers angst #tony stark #Steve Rogers #peterparker #tony stark rogers #steve stark rogers #we are a family fic #wade wilson #deadpool #spiderman #spideypool

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

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Best Part of Me -Chapter 79

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007

With the addition of several armed guards to patrol and secure the outside perimeter and Rata offering to take ‘first watch’ outside the bedroom door. He’s able to step out for some fresh air. He needs to get his head back in the game’ stop thinking and reacting emotionally and start looking at things -and coming up with solutions- from the viewpoint of a mercenary. It’s difficult; separating the two when it’s your own family are the ones being targeted. Damn near impossible, in fact. Both the anger and fear are profound; the mere thought of someone even planning on hurting his wife and children stokes the fire of rage and the need for revenge. It’s so easy to LET your emotions run things when the people you love...who you’ve spent years busting your ass to protect...will be the ones to suffer immensely if they fall into the wrong hands. He’s hardened and experienced, but he’s not dead inside. That had been proven when he HAD managed to fall in love with someone. What he’d thought had long shrivelled up and perished inside of him had just been lying dormant; waiting for that one moment...that one person...who was strong enough to break down the walls and tear through the broken, tattered mess he’d made of himself. And maybe he HAD known it right from the start; how livid he’d been when she’d intentionally ignored him and put herself in danger as sign that things were changing. That HE was changing. He’d certainly felt it the first time he’d kissed her; the way her body eagerly and excitedly responded to his, the desperation in which she’d kissed him back and never once hesitated when it quickly turned into something much more intense.

It had been fear that held the feelings...held HIM...back. Scared of hurting her; worried that once she saw him...the real him...she’d be frightened off by all his issues and demons and she’d leave him a bigger mess than before. Mostly, he’d thought she deserved better than him; a soldier for hire with addiction addiction issues, a lifetime of bad decisions, and a propensity to destroy everything he touched. But she’d hung in there. Willingly putting her own life on the line to save his and sticking by his side; both after Dhaka and through all the bullshit and problems he brought her way through years. Remaining loyal and faithful no matter how hard times got, and never looking at him like he was garbage or a total failure. How do you NOT get emotional when the one person who loves you more than life itself...who’d helped you create five incredible little human beings...is the one with a target on their back? When you know all the horrible, vile things that will be done to her if the wrong people get a hold of her? How do you stop thinking and reacting with your heart when that someone IS your whole heart?

His brain hurts. It’s weary. Muddle. Frustrated. Overrun by multiple and equally powerful emotions. Anger. Guilt. Regret. His heart broken over the realization that he’d once again gone back on a promise and deeply wounded her. It seems to be commonplace. Inadvertently hurting her and his own stubbornness and hang ups making the situation even worse and then having to grovel his way to forgiveness. But this time it’s different. He’s crossed the line before; gone back on his word and disappointed her. But he’s never completely trampled it. At least not until now. She’s confronted him about the same issues before; given him warnings and ultimatums that had seemed serious at the time. But none of those had ever seemed this dire. This FINAL. It wasn’t just in the words and the thinly veiled threats, but in the tone of her voice; the frustration and anger, the disappointment and vehemence. It was in those wild, unhinged eyes and in every single gesture of her hands and the way her entire body trembled. She’s finally reached her breaking point; if he doesn’t get clean...if he doesn’t commit himself to it...she WILL leave. It isn’t just a threat. She’s strong and tenacious and while she doesn’t want to raise the kids alone, she’ll bite the bullet and do it. Everything she said had been true; all her points and arguments valid even if they had damaged his entire soul. He deserved it. Every single word. And as much as it hurts, he knows the pain he’s caused is a hell of a lot worse.

He glances over his shoulder as the screen door slides open; giving Koen a simple nod in greeting before turning his attention back to the dark of night and the glass of whisky clutched in his hand. He’d needed something to take the edge off; both the pain and the need for the long discarded pill just shy of unbearable. But he’s been sipping at for nearly an hour and it hasn’t made a dent; each swallow tasting more putrid than the last. It’s the disgust he feels; sickened by how quick he’d fallen back into old habits and how easily those habits had been able to control him.

“Things are looking okay in there,” Koen says, taking a swig of his beer before taking a seat beside him on the back patio’s top step. “All if quiet. Just the way we want it.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“How’s things out here?”’ He shrugs. “As good as they get when you’re surrounded by armed guards, I guess.”

“Well that’s all fine and dandy, but what I was really talking about was you. How are YOU doing?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Not sure I’m doing to be honest.”

“It’s a hell of a thing; the bear just showing up like that.”

Tyler scoffs. “That’s an understatement.”

“I don’t get why the hell anyone would do something like that. Get kids involved. A baby, at that. Takes someone pretty sick and twisted to justify dragging little ones into adult problems. They got an issue with you, that’s who they should be taken it up with. Leave the kiddos out of it.”

“It’s not really about the kids. It’s about using them to get to me. Because they know it’s what will break me; anything happening to my wife and kids.”

“They’re making it THAT personal?”

“They know they can’t break me any other way. They know they won’t be able to beat me out on the street or hand to hand. They know they have to weaken me first. And that’s exactly what they’re trying to do.”

“You sure of that? Because they got awfully close to that baby.”

“They would have taken her if they wanted her. They had every chance to grab her. They weren’t planning on hurting her. It’s all about fucking with my head. All the threats, all the sick and twisted shit they said they’d do to Esme and the kids...especially the girls...it’s all about screwing me up. And I gotta give them credit I guess; it’s working.”

“Come on,” Koen nudges him with his elbow. “You’re tougher stuff than that. You don’t break easy; if at all. Just take it from the source.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried? You don’t think I’ve tried drilling that into my head? That it’s all just words and I shouldn’t let them get to me? I HAVE tried. I’ve tried ignoring it and I’ve tried considering where it’s coming but. But every time I look at my wife or I think about my kids, all that creeps into my head is what’s been said. What I've been told will happen to them. You can’t love someone that much and just ignore it and act like it doesn’t bother you.”

“I’m not saying don’t let it bother you. I’m saying don’t let it bother you as much as it is.”

“That’s my family they’re talking about. My wife. My kids. I can’t just turn off how I feel about them. And I find it a little hard to take advice from a guy with two failed marriages under his belt.”

“You keep going like you are and YOU’RE going to have two failed ones. Or is that what you’re trying to do? Fuck yourself to the point she’ll say ‘enough’s enough’ and just walk out.’

Tyler scowls. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“You sure about that? First the meds, now you’re drinking too? You’re just pissing it all away, aren’t you. You’ve got a good thing...a damn good thing...and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“Is that why you came out here? To ride my ass? To make me feel like complete and utter shit?”

“You’re an ungrateful fuck, you know that? You get a second chance; you find someone that loves you despite all your bullshit, despite your past and your fucking job. Someone that sticks by you no matter what. And this is how you her? You shit all over her? And those kids? How fucking dare you do that to her.”

“How fucking dare YOU come out here with this bullshit,” Tyler angrily counters. “You have no clue what you’re even talking about. You have no idea what went down here today. How close she was to walking out of her. How close I came to losing my entire family.”

“What are you talking about? What…?”

“I’m drinking because I’m not on the meds anymore. Because I flushed them. And because I’m in so much fucking pain, I could put a gun in my mouth. Because I need something...anything...to numb this shit.”

Koen frowns “Don’t talk like that. Don’t talk stupid shit. About putting a gun in your mouth. Don’t…”

“There’s where I am. I’m right fucking there. I’m tired. I’m tired of the pain and I’m tired of all this bullshit and I’m tired of being away from my kids. This has to stop; the pain, this crap with Mahajan. It’s all gotta stop. Because I can’t keep going like this; I can’t keep living like this. I just can’t. It’s breaking me. And she deserves better than that. So do my kids.”

“And you think ending it would make things better for them? It would make things worse. They need you. A clean and sober you.”

“And I’m gonna get clear. Which is why I flushed the meds. It was them or her. I chose her.”

“She found out?”

“Yeah,” Tyler nods and takes a swallow of whiskey. “She found out.”

“How?”

“I was pretty messed up when she got back. The point I didn’t even remember her calling me when you just got done.”

“Jesus,” Koen mutters. “How many of those pills did you take?”

“Too many. I don't know if I was still high from them or if I was borderline OD’ing or if I was going through withdrawal. But I was fucked up and it was easy for her to figure out what was going on. She’s seen me like that before. Way too many times. More than I want to admit. “

“What happened?”

“She lost it. Rightfully so. Said a lot of things that hurt like hell but I needed to hear. About how it was her breaking point and I needed to get my shit together once and for all.”

“And yet she’s STILL here.”

“All that...all the times I’ve hurt her and I’ve broken promises and I’ve been a complete fuck up...and she says she still loves me. She just can’t live with an addict; can’t have the kids around that. And she’s right; she DOES deserve better than that and so do they. So that’s why I flushed the pills. Because losing them would cause a hell of a lot more pain than what I’m going through right now.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to smarten the hell up. I’m going to go see the doctor; find out what’s going on with my body and get it fixed. I’ll go to rehab if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family together. To be the man that she needs. That she deserves. I’ll stop at nothing to make that happen.”

Koen nods slowly, then turns attention to the beer in his hands. Draining it in a handful of long sips before setting the empty bottle on the step below. “You really thought she was going to leave?”

“I did. And it scared the shit out of me. I’ve already spent months away from him. And that was my doing too. You think I would have learned my lesson the first time.”

“What did you do? Get on your knees and beg?”

“Believe me, I would have done it if it had gotten to that point. I’m not above begging. But she said she couldn’t leave; not in the middle of all this. Said she wouldn’t leave me alone to deal with it by myself. Said she couldn’t do that to me.”

“Gotta give her credit; even pissed off and raging, she still loves your ass.”

“Nothing’s stopping her from leaving when we get back though. And she’s got every right to leave me. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. But it would fucking kill me. Because she’d walk out and she’d take my kids and I don’t think there’s anything I’d be able to do to get them back.”

“Sounds like you got your work cut out for you,” Koen muses. “And if you’re willing to put the work in..”

“I'm willing to do whatever it takes...whatever I have to...to make sure I don’t lose her.”

“If you really think she’s fixin’ to leave, you have to do whatever it takes to change her mind. Make sure you prove to her that it’s a one off. That this isn’t the way you want to be. And I know it isn’t; I know this isn’t how you want to be.”

“I just want the pain gone. I NEED it gone. And I thought if I could just use the meds until I got home, I could see a doctor and find out what’s wrong and get it fixed. I thought I’d just be able to stop and never touch them again.”

“You know that’s horseshit, right? You’re an addict; whether you like to hear that or not. You are. And that’s the kind of choices and decisions you can’t be making. And honestly? I think it’s a good thing she caught on this soon. Imagine if it had gone on longer? How deep would you have been into it? I would have been a hell of a lot messier, that’s for sure. She’s a tough little shit, ain’t she.”

Tyler nods. “Tougher than she gives herself credit for. Probably the toughest person I know.”

Koen scowls. “I’ll try not to be offended by that.”

Tyler smirks, then polishes off the last of his drink.

“Your girl was impressive today, by the way. The way she kept her cool on the bridge, how she handled the guy in the market, how she took seeing that little prick that shot ya.”

“What’s the chances of that even happening? That she’d see him?”

“She’s got quite the hate on for him. Wouldn’t put it past her to kill him with her bare hands. But she did good today. Real good. You should be proud of her.”

“I’m proud of her every day, mate. For a whole lot of different reasons.”

Koen smiles, then playfully tousles Tyler’s hair. “So what now? We just wait? Hope they call?”

“That's about it. I was hoping it would have happened by now, but…” he shrugs. “You know, part of me...a huge part...just wants to say ‘fuck it, let someone else deal with it’; just get the hell out of here and get my kids and go home. Get someone else to do the dirty work.”

“But…”

“But that would look like I’m running scared. And I’m not. I’m not scared of those little bastards. I’ve handled bigger and better. Only thing I’m worried about is my family; getting them the hell out of this mess. That’s all that matters.”

“You know, there probably are people who could get this shit done.”

“Maybe. But I gave Anil my word; that I’d be the one to to do this. I can’t back out now. Especially after the Fredrick thing.”

Koen frowns “Fredrick? Who’s Fredrick?”

“The bear. Do you not know the story of the bear?”

“Do I need to?”

“I bought him for Millie when she was born. She was like half an hour old and I went downstairs to start calling people and letting them know about her, and there was this bear in the window of the gift shop. And Esme hadn’t been in Australia very long and she was all about koalas so I bought the damn thing. It became this joke; every time we took Millie on a road trip somewhere, we’d bring the bear with us. So wherever we went, we’d take a picture of him and then we got home, Esme would print it off. She ended up making a scrapbook with all the pictures; gave it to Millie on her third birthday.”

“Okay, I know I have a cold, dead heart, but that is some seriously adorable shit.”

“Millie took that damn bear everywhere. Slept with it every night. And she started talking, she named him Patrick.”

“I thought his name was Fredrick?”

“It is. He became Fredrick. After Addie was born, Millie gave him to her because she was happy to finally have a sister. She gave Addie the bear and suddenly his name was Fredrick. I don’t know, mate. I don’t know why the hell that kid does the things she does. So yeah, that’s the story of Patrick. Or Fredrick. Or whatever the hell his name is.”

“And someone just took it?”

“Right out of the crib. Esme said she put it right next to her; that they would have to reach over her to get it. Someone was right there; right fucking there. Right across the goddamn hall form us. And I didn’t hear a thing. They went in there and I didn’t even know it.”

“You were asleep,” Koen reasons. “How could you have known? If they were creeping around…”

“Where were my instincts? They’re the one thing I could always count on; my gut picking up on something that’s wrong or someone that’s shady. But there was nothing. I didn’t suspect a single one of those people. How fucking pathetic is that? I do the job I do...I protect complete strangers...and I couldn’t even protect my kid and I was right across the hall.”

“They probably worked hard so you wouldn’t suspect a thing.” Koen says. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. There’s no way you could have prevented it.”

“I was fifteen feet away. IF that,” Tyler shakes his head in disbelief. “And they got close to my kid. How do I NOT blame myself?”

*****

An hour later he joins her in the bedroom; setting a bowl of ice cream down on the bedside table and then leaning over to peck her lips. Chuckling when she grabs him by the front of the shirt and yanks him down or something longer; his hand coming to rest on the mattress to avoid losing his balance and landing on top of her.

“What’s that for?” Esme inquires, nodding at the bowl as she pushes herself up into a sit.

“Peace offering.”

“I wasn’t aware you needed one. I thought we weren’t fighting anymore.”

“Guess it’s to guarantee we DON’T start up again.”

“No fighting, I promise. The last thing I want to do is fight with you. I didn’t want to fight with you in the first place.”

“Eat your ice cream,” Tyler gently orders, then drops a kiss on the top of her head before retreating to a nearby chair; wincing as he slowly lowers himself into it.

She watches him, an eyebrow arched and the spoon pressed to her lips. “Back?”

“Everything.”

“You didn’t have to flush the pills. I didn’t want you to stop taking them entirely; I wanted you to take them responsibly. It was kind of hasty; getting rid of them like that. I don’t want you to suffer.”

“I’ll be alright. It’s not that bad. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

“If it wasn’t that bad, you wouldn’t have resorted to taking so many. Why don’t you call Anil’s doctor? Ask or something else; something that will actually work and you won’t have to go overboard.”

“At this point, I probably can’t even be trusted with over the counter shit. I’ll be okay. I’ll deal with it for the rest of the time we’re here, then when we get home, I’ll get the doctor to fix me up.”

“Who knows how long THAT will be. I don’t want you suffering. That’s not what I wanted at all. I just didn’t want it getting out of hand. Not like before. And it scared me; seeing you like that today. Because I remember what it was like the last time it got out of control. And that nearly destroyed us. And I don’t want it destroying us.”

“It won’t,” Tyler assures her. “That’s why I got rid of them. I had to. I didn’t trust myself with them.”

“But now I feel like shit. Because I know how bad things have gotten. You barely sleep and when you do you’re restless and never really at peace. Half the time you don’t eat properly. And I know about your hand; I see you struggling to use it sometimes. Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. You’ve got enough going on.”

“I’m going to worry about you regardless. So you might as well just tell me about these things. Is there anything I can do? You want me to get an ice pack or a heating pad or I can massage it? Or maybe you can take a hot shower or a hot bath…”

“You need to stop. I’m fine.”

“Want some ice cream?”

“Regardless of what you think, it doesn’t solve everything.”

“I’m trying here, okay? I feel like shit. You dumped all those pills. For me.”

“I dumped them for me. So I wouldn’t lose my entire life. I’ll deal with it. I’ll get shit done here, we’ll go home, and I’ll get it all looked at. Okay?”

“Okay,” Esme reluctantly agrees, then turns her attention to the bowl of ice cream in her hands.

The silence that follows is comfortable. Companionable. Still existing after seven years; content just to be in one another’s presence. It was something they’d discovered right off the bat; a quiet, comfy ease with one another as opposed to having to fill the minutes with mindless chit chat. He takes the opportunity to rest her eyes; legs stretched out in front of him, hands clasped together and resting on his stomach. Actual sleep will be a rare commodity. The arrival of Fredrick and the unspoken messages accompanying him combined with the anticipation of a call from Asif’s people, have his senses on high alert. Expecting the arrival of a threat, but hoping it never comes. It’s good to be prepared; keeping your guard up at all times and always assuming trouble could be just around the corner of lurking in the shadows.

The faint clinking of the spoon against the side of the bowl captures his attention; followed by the dish being placed on the nightstands and the sound of her clothes brushing against the sheets as she stretches out in bed. And when he opens his eyes and glances over, she’s flat on her back with her t-shirt pulled up to just above her navel, and the waist of her pyjama bottoms resting across her pubic bone. Eyes fixated on the ceiling as she runs her hands slowly over the sides and the top of her ever growing bump.

“What are you doing?”

“Just feeling the bump,” Esme says. “It’s bigger when I lie down. Does it look big?”

“I think it looks cute.”

“Do you have a pregnant woman fetish I don’t know about?” she teases.

“Only if the pregnant woman is my wife.”

“It’s weird to be showing this soon. It’s bigger, right? Than all the other ones at this stage? Does it look bigger?”

“I guess. I don’t know. Seems about the same as when you were having the boys.”

“You just HAD to put that out into the universe.”

“You asked me if it was like the others. I said yes; it looks like when you were pregnant with the twins. Don’t ask if you don’t really want an answer.”

“It’s growing on me. Both figuratively AND literally.”

He gives a small laugh; minutes passing by as he watches her. Contentment sparkling in her eyes as he palms continue to move over her bump.

A grin is tugging at the corners of her mouth when she turns her head towards him. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m not staring. I’m admiring.”

“Why are you admiring me like that, then?”

“Because you’re beautiful. And I love you.”

It’s the first smile...genuine smile...that he’s seen on her face in days. Maybe even weeks. All of the stress and the worry and heartache briefly lifting; lips curving softly, eyes glittering in the soft glow given off by the bedside lamp. And when she rolls onto her side and reaches out for him, he doesn’t hesitate; leaning forward in the chair and taking her hand in his own and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. And in that moment, when she pulls away ever so slowly and her nails skim over his palm and along his fingers, he’s filled with a sense of hope. There’s love in her eyes. A tenderness and affection that nearly takes his breath away.

“I was thinking…” she says, as she scrunches her pillow up under her cheek and wraps both arms around it. “...we should probably add onto the house. We have a lot of space to work with and we’d still have tons of land left over.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking a couple more bedrooms; one for the baby and one for guests. An ACTUAL office considering we’re going to be running a business. Maybe another two or three car garage that we can use to store all the gear and other job related stuff. A bigger and better gym. You’ve been talking about that since we moved in.”

“Whatever you want, baby. Just make a list and we’ll get it done.”

“And Millie and the two T’s are asking for animals. They miss the goats and the chickens. So if we could build something to keep them in…”

“If that’s what they want, I’ll get it done.”

“You’ve very agreeable. Not even a single roll of the eyes or those wrinkles you get when you frown. Are you drunk? Sometimes you’re a very mellow drunk.”

“No. I’m not drunk. I just think it all sounds reasonable. And if that’s what you want to do, we’ll do it. Make a list and we’ll start on things when we get back.”

“I like that you’re being optimistic; about getting out of here and going home. Because you will; get out of here and go home.”

“We’ll know that for sure soon enough.”

“I already know for sure. I know you; I know you’ll stop at nothing to get out of there. You don’t give up. You don’t know the meaning of ‘give up’. And you what else I was thinking?”

“Your brain’s been busy.”

“I was thinking we really should go away. An actual trip. Alone. Just us. I think we deserve it. And need it.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere exotic. Somewhere tropical.”

“You don’t get enough sand and water at home?”

“As much as I love where we are, it’s different when you go away. I was thinking like Bali or Bora Bora or The Maldives. Stay in one of those suites that are built right on the water. That would be nice. AND romantic.”

“Romantic? Have we met?”

“You’re romantic in your own way. You just don’t do grand gestures or make a spectacle out of things. Which makes it even better. Other guys, you know it’s coming. With you, it’s always a surprise. It’s genuine. Just one of the many things I love about you.”

“You gonna make a list of those things, too?”

“If you want me to. If it would cheer up. I’ll do it if it will cheer you up.”

“Your smile is enough to do that. There hasn’t been a lot to smile about lately, has there.”

“It’s been...difficult.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“You look so tired. You sound tired.”

“I am,” Tyler admits. “Tired. In a lot of ways.”

“It’ll get better. When we get home and you see the doctor and they figure out what’s going on with you. Get it all fixed up. It will force you to slow down for a little while. And you need to. Slow down.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m old?”

“I’m insinuating that you’re human. And that you need to step back and let other people bust their asses. It doesn’t have to be you all the time. Just stay home and run things. Delegate. Don’t take everything on yourself. Because you’ll burn out and I don’t want that happening. I know you think I hate you right now. Because of our fight earlier and everything I said.”

“I don’t think you hate me. I think you hate that side of me. The one that’s so fucking weak that he gets sucked back into the same old shit.”

“You’re not weak, Tyler. There’s nothing remotely weak about you. And hate is a strong word. I don’t hate that side. It disappoints me.”

“Okay, you know what? That’s even worse.”

“But I love you. And I just want you better. That’s it. I just want you better. I don’t like seeing you like this. Not just the pain, but everything. I know you’re tired; I know you’re probably ready to just give up. But I need you to keep going. Our kids need you to keep going. Little bean needs that too. It won’t be much longer. It’ll be over soon.”

“I hope so, baby. I really do. Because I don’t know how much more I can take. It’s fucking breaking me down. And that’s what they want. They want to break my mind before they break my body. And it’s working.”

“They know what would hurt you the most,” she concludes. “What WILL break you. Anything to do with me or the kids. They know we’re your weaknesses.”

“Just proves it’s someone close to us. That knows us. Knows me.”

“I’m not ruling Nathan out. There’s something very sketchy about him.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“Do you think it could be Nik? Do you think it’s possible she’s working with him? Maybe they’re more involved than just fuck buddies or whatever she claims they are.”

“I want to say she wouldn’t do something like that, but nothing would surprise me anymore.”

“Just be careful. Err on the side of caution. Assume everyone we know could be in on it. That way no one will take you by surprise.”

He grins. “Are you telling me how to do my job?”

“No. I’m just a paranoid wife. Who’s worried about you. Who loves you. And who really wants you alive and in one piece at the end of all this. Don’t trust anyone.”

“Present company excluded, obviously.”

“Obviously. I mean, you’re the only person I trust.”

“I think I’ve proven a few times that you shouldn’t.”

“Your issues don’t make me trust you any less. Because I know you’d do anything to keep me safe. I never never doubted that. You’re the only one who has ever made me feel safe. I can’t see that ever changing.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know. And I wish I could do the same for you. Protect you.”

“You do. In your own way.”

“Maybe,” she sighs, and rolls over onto her back once more, a hand resting on either side of her bump.

“Could you do me a favour?”

She looks over at him.

“Can you pull your pants up? It’s distracting me.”

Esme grins. “Maybe you need a distraction.”

“Not THAT kind of distraction.”

“I’m offended,” she pouts. “It hurts my feelings that I can pull my pants down and you don’t jump on it. Or me,”

“Trust me, I want to. I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m technically on the clock.”

“That’s suddenly a problem? Do I need to remind you about seven years ago? When we were both on the clock?”

“This is different.”

“How?”

“Because I’m trying to protect you.”

“You were technically supposed to be protecting me then, too.”

“Not the way I am now.”

“You can’t take a few minutes out of your time and oblige me?”

Tyler frowns. “A few minutes? Now I’M offended.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you can spare half an hour. What’s going to happen? You’re RIGHT here. Koen and Rata are downstairs, there’s all kinds of armed guards wandering around. You don’t need to constantly watch over me.”

“Can you please pull your pants up?”

She heaves a heavy, dramatic sigh, then obliges.

“And I DO have to watch over you. They were able to get to Addie and I was right across the hall.”

“So was I,” Esme points out. “I didn’t hear anything either.”

“But I should have. What a fucking time for my instincts to take a dump.”

“You were asleep. Your instincts were at rest. You’re really not blaming yourself, are you? Tell me you don’t think this is your fault. Tell me.”

“I should have heard something. Or at least picked up something before that.”

“Tyler, you have to be kidding me right now. It is in no way your fault. Not in the slightest.”

“Hard not to blame myself.”

“Well stop. You told me not to blame myself.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And neither did you. You were asleep. You didn’t think there’d be a reason to watch over her. So stop…” she sits up and swings her legs over the side of the top, pulling her t-shirt down as she stands and saunters over. “...just stop.”

He grins as she perches herself on his lap, arms circling his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to distract you.” She presses a series of feathery kisses along his jaw and onto his ear, tracing the outer edge with the top of her tongue. “Is it working?”

“Yeah…” His hands grip her hips, pulling her tight against him; raising his hips so she can feel the beginning of his erection straining against his jeans. “...it’s working.”

“Good…” she giggles, and pulls back to look at him. “...I really AM a distraction.”

“Yep. You are.”

“I think you should come to bed. At least for a little while.”

“You know it’ll be longer than five minutes, yeah?”

She grins and presses a kiss to his lips. “It better be.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fic #Tyler Rake fan ficiton #Extraction #Extraction 2020 #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth character #best part of me

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