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imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Note

no 53 for gabriel and cecily, if you could please add a slow burn kiss i would be so grateful but either way it's up to you tyy

Ahh, I love this requesttt!! I took a while to write it because I’ve never so much as held a boy’s hand, but I hope I did Gabrily justice! Thank you so much for the ask!! Also, I always see Gabriel calling Cecily by her maiden name because he’s used to repeating it so many times before going to sleep that it’s practically ingrained in his mind lol

Characters: Gabriel Lightwood x Cecily Herondale/Lightwood

Prompt: “I’m crazy about you”

...

After a long day, Gabriel and Cecily were finally back in their private chambers. The Institute, as always, was a swirl of activity, with Charlotte tutoring Will on the management of the institute, multiple demon attacks in the city everyday and Downworlders requesting frequent meetings, the residents of the London Institute kept busy.

Cecily was staring out of the window in the middle when Gabriel must have come from behind, because out of nowhere, arms encircled her waist. She almost would have accidentally elbowed him in the stomach, had she not been so tired that her reflexes were a big ball of mush. He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, his soft and silky hair tickling her jawline. She smiled and tugged lightly on one of his lovely brown curls.

Gabriel was tall enough and Cecily small enough that he could easily rest his chin on the top of her head, which he did now.

“I didn’t see much of you today.” Gabriel muttered. “I missed you.”

Cecily smiled despite herself. “It’s like you can’t live without me.”

“I probably could, but I would be horribly miserable.”

Cecily turned in his arms and got on her tiptoes to kiss his lips softly.

“It’s a good thing I’m here to stay then.”

Gabriel smiled and brought his lips to hers again. His lips were soft against hers and she could feel them pulsing as they slanted to lock perfectly against her own.

They kissed in pure, sweet bliss what could have been anywhere in between a minute or hours. When they pulled apart once more to breathe, it was ever so slightly, the tips of their lips barely still touching.

Gabriel tilted his head to the side to the tiniest of degrees, nudging her lips with his own, drawing her head upwards with his hands. They met in another kiss, and they yet again fell into the abyss of each other’s lips.

Each movement was minuscule, yet it felt like waves crashing against the surface of a rock, slowly stripping the layers of it’s surface, leaving it completely vulnerable. Cecily’s hands went up Gabriel's neck, lacing at the nape.

Gabriel broke apart and began kissing a line down Cecily’s face, starting at the corner of her lip and going to cheek. His lips grazed over her jawline and despite them barely touching her skin, she shivered. He moved to her neck and planted a kiss on a sensitive spot, which provoked a low moan from Cecily’s throat. She felt him shake from a small chuckle.

“You’re wicked, you know that?” She said, scolding.

Gabriel hummed, and pressed her closer to his body. He kissed her behind the ear and her head involuntarily fell back. Gabriel’s hands drew lazy circles with his fingers against her back, swooping lower and lower until he reached her upper thighs. The sensations she was feeling were so overwhelming, she felt she might explode. Her eyelashes fluttered uncontrollably, her lips quivering as she lost herself in her husband's soft kisses.

He began walking her backwards, yet she didn’t care enough about where they were going to look behind her. His hands moved to her hips and he lifted her swiftly, sitting her down gently on the desk. He clasped his mouth over hers and eased her slowly to her back, so that she was laying on the table. He drew her arms behind her head before stopping, smirking and kissing her nose.

“What a tease.” Cecily said, shaking her head.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer to her chest. He was warm against her body and when he chuckled she could feel his chest against her own. She undid his cravat, letting the collar of his shirt open and expose the pulsing of his throat and the sharp edges of his collarbones. Gabriel put a hand in her hair and buried his head in her neck. He muttered her name against her skin, and Cecily couldn’t help but run her fingers through his soft curls. Her hands swooped down and traced his jawline, where she hooked her fingers under his chin and lifted his face up, bringing his lips to her own.

Cecily nibbled his under lip softly and he groaned softly against her lips. His arms went around her, holding her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

Gabriel kissed her lavishly slow, so slowly that Cecily soon became impatient. She arched her back against his chest and quickened the kiss until they were both doing so feverishly. She ran her hands under his shirt, tracing the places where she knew his scars lay, places she already memorized and kissed many times. She kissed him until they couldn’t breathe. They broke apart, gasping.

“I’m crazy about you.” Gabriel said, his voice hoarse, nuzzling her cheek and planting a kiss there. “I’m crazy about you, Cecily Herondale.”

Cecily kissed the tip of his jaw. “You are the reason I can’t sleep at night when I’m alone. You’re the reason I get up in the morning. I’m crazy about you, Gabriel Lightwood.”

Gabriel looked into her eyes, his hand caressing her cheek before slowly lifting her in his arms. She straddled his waist as he carried her to their bed. She could feel his heart beating quickly against her own racing heart, his warm skin matching her own.

When they crashed into bed, they did so laughing.

…

“How is it that I taught you this, and yet you’re better at it than I?” Gabriel said, his voice hoarse.

“Men may be the ones to learn things first, but women are always the ones who improve them.” Cecily said, toying with the bed spread.

Gabriel snorted. “I cannot disagree with that.”

Cecily shifted in the sheets and pressed her body against Gabriel’s side. His arm went around her automatically, comforting against her lower back.

“Tell me a story.”

“Once upon a time—”

Cecily lightly slapped his chest with the back of her hand. “You know what I mean.” She said. That was the way she asked Gabriel how his day was.

It was how her father used to ask her family, too.

“Alas, my day was uneventful.” Gabriel said, kissing her temple.

Cecily hummed at the kiss and shifted under the sheets to get closer to him. “Surely something interesting has transpired?”

“Yes, you’re right. But I needn’t tell you what it is.”

Cecily put her chin on his shoulder and looked up at him, frowning. “And why’s that?”

“Why, you were there, weren’t you? I imagine you don’t need me to recount our relations.”

Cecily smirked. “Perhaps I wish to hear it come out of your tongue.”

Gabriel turned his head to look at her and narrowed his eyes. “Are we still talking about the same thing? Or did you take the opportunity to change topics?”

Cecily shrugged. “Do what you will with that information.”

“You’re insufferable.” Gabriel said, grinning. “And scandalous. I should do well to wash your mouth with soap.”

Cecily sighed, “As long as you’re the one doing it.”

Gabriel shook his head, chuckling softly.

“What? Would you rather I be a prude?”

Gabriel scoffed. “You put words in my mouth, Cecy. I would never wish you a prude.”

“Right, silly me. Of course you wouldn’t,” Cecily said.

“What are you implying?”

“You’re a whore, Gabriel Lightwood.”

Gabriel gasped, pretending to be offended at her statement. “How could you say that to me?”

“I’m only saying the truth, darling.” Cecily said, tracing the marriage rune on his chest

“The truth hurts.” Gabriel said.

“Would you like me to kiss it to make it better?” Cecily said sarcastically.

“That depends on whether you’ll call me a whore if I do.”

“Gabriel,” She said, propping her head on her fist so that she was above him. “I embrace you’re whore-ly-ness.”

A smile broke across Gabriel’s face and he put his hands up in triumph. “Did you hear that London? She embraces my being a whore!”

“Of course I do, you idiot!” She said laughing.

“You really do, Cecily?”

Cecily rolled her eyes “Yes, yes I do.”

“Cecy,” Gabriel said, turning to her. “You are the greatest woman in the universe!”

He took her face in his hand and kissed her hard.

“I know I am. Now get over here and let us profess our love once more!”

“Again?”

Cecily raised her eyebrows, amused. “Do you not want to?”

Gabriel smirked, “I never said that.”

Cecily threw him a devilish grin.

“Then forget dawn. We ride at…”

Gabriel fetched the clock on the nightside table.

“1:30 am.”

“We ride at 1:30 am!” Cecily said triumphantly, as they crashed back into bed.

...

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starktonyx · 5 years

Text

The inevitable - Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Description: Five years had passed since the blip, yet you recalled the events like it was yesterday. Depressed and still mourning, you beg your father to help with the time heist plan to the point of breaking down in front of him for the first time. You’re willing to do anything to save Peter and protect your loved ones, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for the greater good.

Warnings: ANGST. Mentions of anxiety, depression, and attempted suicide.

Masterlist

•

Even after five years had passed, you still remembered that day so clearly. The day hell began. The day your father and your boyfriend had left the earth on an alien ship and went missing. You were terrified for them, and hell, you were pissed off at Friday who shut down your suit so you couldn’t follow them.

That same day you had fought alongside your friends in the battle of Wakanda, you put up a pretty good fight against Thanos, you even managed to get a drop of blood from him until he decided to play dirty to distract you.

“You know, your father also managed to make me bleed” He said and wiped the blood off his forehead, and you stopped right on your tracks at the mention of your dad. “You Starks keep surprising with your little toys” he chuckled and grabbed you by the neck, taking advantage of your sudden distraction.

“At least we c-create our own w-weapons” You argued having a hard time to breathe, your Stark attitude showing up. “I don’t r-rely on l-little stones”

He just tightened his grip and left you struggling as you tried to blast him with the reactor on your chest, but in a matter of seconds he ripped it off with his power stone, causing your nano suit to vanish and leaving you in your civilian clothes.

“These little stones defeated your father you ignorant creature”

“What d-did you do to h-him?” You asked, fear was evident on your eyes and your face turned red as the oxygen barely got to your lungs.

“The same as that spider kid, such a shame, I’m sure they were good people”

That damn day you had believed they were both dead, and when everyone else started to vanish from the snap you felt yourself dying on the inside. The avengers were torn, devastated at the loss, yet you all went back to the compound to somehow find some comfort. You were lucky you still had Pepper with you, even if she wasn’t your biological mother she tried to be there for you, but you spent days locked in your room crying and denying what had happened. The pain was overwhelming, and you just wished you would’ve been part of the dusted ones.

21 days passed until Captain Danvers brought your father home and you realized how Thanos lied to you about killing him, and you couldn’t feel more defeated. When your dad informed you about Peter you had one of the most severe anxiety attacks you’ve ever experienced, since your body was going through a lot of emotions from just welcoming your father to confirming the love of your life’s death.

Peter had been there for you since day one, always stumbling on his own words when being around you. He was the light of your life, always making you laugh and helping you with your mental issues. He loved how he could be himself around you, being nerds in the lab and talking about sci-fi movies all day. You both felt as the other was your soulmate, that it was meant to be. All of the avengers were admired by you, you taught them how strong young love could be. So how come the universe was so mean to break both of you apart?

You didn’t know how but you managed to sneak out in the mission to retreat the stones from Thanos, hoping you would be the one to kill his pathetic ass. The others noticed you when you were already on the planet, so there was no option but bringing you with them.

When Thanos admitted to have destroyed the stones you were fuming, yet the others scared implied that he might be lying.

“My father is many things, but he’s not a liar” Nebula stated and you just bitterly chuckled.

Everyone looked at you expectantly as you walked directly in front on him, Thor put a hand in front of you to stop you from getting too close, but you just kept focused on your target.

“Not a liar? That’s a pretty fun one” you barked at Thanos, who just looked at you amused, he knew exactly what you meant. “You lied about my father, I’ve got no reasons to believe any word you said” you spat as you refused to acknowledge how he lied about Peter as well, you weren’t capable of saying his name out loud.

“And I’ve got no reasons to care about that. The stones are gone, it was necessary, so get over it” He tried to get up but Thor stopped him with the stormbreaker so he turned to talk to you again. “My casualties are never personal, but you Starks are a disease, even if I didn’t end his life I wish he was d-“

He was interrupted when you suddenly grabbed the stormbreaker from Thor’s hand and swung it across Thanos’s head with a scream leaving your lips. Everyone gasped as you just stood there breathing heavily, realizing what you had done. Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even notice the burn the weapon was leaving in your hand.

“What did you do?” Rocket asked astounded, the tiny Y/N Stark had just murdered the universe’s worst enemy.

“I’m sorry Nebula” You apologized, not for killing Thanos, but because she had to deal with that monster her entire life. With that said you turned around to look at Thor and just let the axe fall to the ground with a thud.

“That’s how you go for the head”

“What’s on your mind kid?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts as your dad noticed how you drifted off and weren’t paying attention to the movie you were watching anymore.

“Not much, I was thinking about visiting Nat today” You sighed and looked down at the floor, you knew he didn’t like you going back to the city, yet you did it quite often. And you couldn’t exactly lie about your whereabouts when Friday practically stalked you.

You also didn’t want to tell him that you were thinking once again about the two days that had marked your life. You knew you should be grateful for having your family together, but not when that family wasn’t complete. You knew you should be happy, but since the blip that emotion never found you again, and depression became your only friend. Pepper and Tony were too caught up in their farm life and raising Morgan that they didn’t notice how you kept falling apart every day.

“Honey if you need someone to talk to, you have us” He implored and put one hand on your shoulder. “You know how much I hate the city and you going out there makes me think you just want to be away from us” you could feel the pain in his words, and you hated yourself for making him feel that way.

“Dad I don’t do it to get away from you, it’s just-“ you took a deep breath as you tried to explain yourself. “It’s just that they are my family too, and I can’t allow myself to loose them, not after … not after …“ You suddenly cut your speech and your heart started beating faster, you couldn’t bring yourself to say his name or the names of the ones that had been dusted. You saw how his posture stiffened as well, and he avoided your eyes.

“Alright, Pep says lunch is in 5” He got up and left you, you supposed he went outside to call Morgan.

And that’s why you never mentioned anything to him. He just avoided the subject as if that would change the fact that half of the universe is gone. ‘You can talk to us’ your ass.

“I’m not hungry” you informed to Pepper as you got up from the couch and walked towards your room and locked yourself in there.

After ten minutes had passed you heard a car park in front of your house and peeked at the window. When you saw Nat and Steve you felt confused, you figured it was better to hear the conversation from the inside since they never visited your father and something serious must’ve happened.

You heard everything about the time heist plan and you were all in for it, but when your father denied to help you were fuming, and you were determined to help them as much as your knowledge allowed it. You were smart, not as much as your dad, but you would be dammed if you didn’t try your best.

The next day you went to the city and spent the whole day working alongside Dr. Banner and Scott Lang. You had managed to somehow progress, but since you ended up turning Scott a baby you realized this was going to take a while. You went back home that day late at night, and you felt your anxiety creeping in when you saw your father sitting on the porch waiting for you.

“So you are helping them with their absurd ‘back to the future’ plan” He theorized as soon as you got out of the car. “And by the looks of it it didn’t go well, did you turn Slang into a baby?” He continued taunting you and you had enough of his attitude.

“Do you want to know what’s absurd? The fact that you refuse to accept that half of the world is gone” You claimed as you got right in front on him. “And the fact that you refuse to do anything about it, not even when - not even when Peter is one of them, do you even think about him? Did you ever mourn him? Do you like Morgan living in a world that hates being alive because their loved ones aren’t? Or the farm life has affected you that much that the only thing you care about is your damn alpaca?” You yelled pointing a finger at him accusingly and couldn’t help the tears falling from your eyes. You saw his eyes getting glossy with every word you said.

“Of course I mourned him” he admitted as he spoke in the same rough tone you did. “Of course I think about him but there’s nothing I can do kid, he’s gone” his voice broke and his tone softened. “And I hate that one day I’ll have to explain to Morgan what happened but I’ll just wait for the right moment. Because for now when I look around I have everything I’ve ever wanted, I’ve got Pep, you and Morgan, I can’t risk loosing this, not when we got so lucky”

“Lucky?” You bitterly let a laugh. “Do you even notice what’s going on around you? Do you know how I can’t breath, I can’t sleep, I can’t fucking live everyday with the guilt I feel?” You didn’t know it was possible to feel more pain that you did everyday, but breaking down to your father for the first time was truly taking a toll on you that you didn’t have control over what you said anymore. “Did you know that I tried to-“

“To jump from the compound? Yes I very much know” he blurted out and you looked down to the scar on your hand, from where you had held the stormbreaker, not being able to look him in the eyes.

“Did Steve tell you?” You questioned, Cap had been the one who grabbed your hand when you jumped, you never thought he was the snitch type.

“No, that guy knows how to keep a secret” He ranted, remembering his fight with the supersoldier. “I made a protocol in case someone fell from the roof, one of my suits would catch them. Imagine my surprise when Friday told me you activated the protocol”

“I’m sorry” You cried as he just took you in his arms and hugged you tight. “I just wanted a way out, it was unfair how I got to live while billions of people had to die. And with Peter gone, it was too much to take” you admitted between sobs “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to force you to give me an explanation so I just waited for you to tell me. I’ve had anxiety for the last decade and I don’t know how to deal with it myself, much less how to help you with that. Also, that’s why Friday reports me every movement you make, so I know you won’t do it again”

He separated from your hug and wiped the tears from your face, he felt wrong for having ignored the way you felt all those years. Even if you put on a fake façade of happiness, he should’ve known better.

“I’m so sorry kid, so sorry”

“It’s okay” you whispered and hugged him again. “Dad please, you said there’s nothing you could do about him being gone, but you know there is a way” you begged and he just caressed your hair. “You’re the only one who can do it.

That same night, after you mentioned Peter’s name for the first time in 5 years, it only took Tony a glance at a photograph of him to literally invent time travel. God, even Pepper told him he would never feel in peace if he didn’t help bring back all those people.

So you were finally there, in the final battle, illuminated by portals that brought together the universe’s mightiest heroes. The fight had been going for a while and you frantically looked for Peter in the battlefield. You finally spotted him in the distance hugging your father and it didn’t take long for you to get to them.

This was it. This was the moment it’s all been leading up to, having your Peter back, safe in your arms.

“Peter?” His name rolled over your tongue with fear and hesitation.

Your father stepped away and Peter turned around to see you, he was surprised, you had surely grown up and looked more like an adult now. Even with cuts all over your face you looked beautiful as ever. Your eyes already started cascading with tears and for the first time in a while you genuinely smiled.

“Oh my god, my love” he exclaimed and jumped in your arms. You both let out laughs of relief as you felt each other in your arms.

Even though, for Peter there was only a day he hadn’t seen you, but for you it was like a lifetime. He separated enough to kiss you passionately, and your heart jumped in joy when you felt his lips again. Your kisses always meant so much, and this time, it was better than anything.

Your father looked standing next to you as he cried tears of joy as well, he hadn’t seen your eyes shine that way or heard you laugh in a long time. And that’s when he knew, everything they went through was worth it.

Peter broke the kiss to analyze your face, as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, trailing behind the tears that kept falling.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been waiting for this moment” you blurted out, in that moment only you both existed. “God, I missed you so much, after all these years, I-“ He interrupted you before you could break down once more.

“Shhh darling it’s alright, I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that” Peter’s heart ached, he couldn’t imagine the kind of pain you went through that whole time. “But I’m here now okay? And I’m not leaving anytime soon” he reassured you and kissed you again.

“Alright alright kids, you’ll have plenty of time left for that” Your dad joked, you knew it was because he felt like he was third wheeling so you just poked your tongue out for him.

After your little family reunion you all kept fighting to keep the stones away from Thanos. You had to admit, seeing him standing there made you want to cut his head off again. After Captain Danvers brought down the spaceships, the fight only got more intense, you could see everything from the front line as a missile sent you flying just feet away from Thanos. You saw how he put the gauntlet on again, and fear flooded your entire body. You tried to focus on what to do and your eyes set on Dr. Strange making a sign for your father, and after seeing your fathers thoughtful expression, you knew exactly what was going to happen.

And you had to stop it.

Without even thinking about it you blasted your dad away from Thanos just when he was about touch the gauntlet, so you grabbed it instead as he went flying to the side. You heard your father scream through the comm but it was too late, you had already taken the stones.

“I am inevitable” Thanos claimed as he snapped his fingers, and then he just stared confusingly when the only sound he heard was a clasp of metal.

A smirk adorned your face but it was soon wiped off as your whole body shook in pain with the energy of the six infinity stones coursing through your veins. A tear fell from your eye as you noticed your father seeing you, waiting for the actual inevitable.

“And… I… am … a Stark” you struggled to say as you finally snapped your fingers, wishing for Thanos entire army to be wiped off the universe.

The next thing you felt was how your organism was shutting down, you fell as you weren’t able to stand up anymore and rested your back on a piece of debris from the fight. The first person to reach to you was your dad, who asked Friday about your state even though he knew there was no way you could survive this.

“W-why did you do it, oh my god my baby” he cried as he grabbed your hand. You knew why. You did it for him and only for him. You wished you could say something, but the pain was too intense to even form a sentence. “It’s okay, you’ll be just fine kid”

Denial is the first stage of grief they say. You hadn’t even died yet and your father was already in it.

Peter didn’t take long to reach you and start bawling like a baby, and even in that state he tried to reassure you.

“P-Pete” you managed to blurt out, and tasted the blood in your mouth.

“It’s okay baby, we won you did it” he cried and all you could do was stare at him. “You did it, I love you so much, please don’t-“ he couldn’t continue talking as he broke down.

Your eyes. He would never forget how your eyes stared at him so empty, no emotion in them. Rhodey caught him in his arms and placed him next to you.

That’s when Pepper kneeled in front on you, with your father on one side and Peter on the other. You looked at her and tried to make an effort to speak but all she could see were your pleading eyes, and you hoped she got the message.

“I’ll take care of them honey, you can rest now” She assured you and she could’ve sworn the upper corner of your mouth tried to smile.

You couldn’t feel any pain now, you knew you would be gone in a few moments. You squeezed your fathers hand and he just hugged you, along with Peter and Pepper. In that moment you wished Morgan could’ve hugged her sister as well.

You took your final breath and finally closed your eyes, your reactor slowly shutting down. Your last memory was a kiss on the cheek from your father as you were showed respects by the other heroes, who kneeled before the girl who killed Thanos twice.

Silence.

Silence and sobs were the only things that could be heard in that battlefield. You did what was necessary and you didn’t regret it, as you left a message for them in case on an imminent death.

“Umm, Hi I Guess” Peter was startled by your voice, when the hologram started playing in your funeral. “If you’re seeing this it means I’m dead. My bad, I’m sorry, it sounds better in the movies. Uh, anyways, I promised myself that if something goes wrong in the mission I will do anything possible to prevent any casualties, even if it meant putting myself on the line” you explained and Tony just buried his face on his hands. You were so much like him to the point where he actually lost you because of it.

“In any case that happened, I’m sorry. We always want a happy ending, that just doesn’t mean we’ll get it. But hey, if the mission was successful it means we brought everyone back, and that also means you’re here Peter” you smiled and at the sound of his name he stiffened in his seat, Tony put a hand on his shoulder. “I just gotta say you are my whole world, thank you for always being there to make me happy. I love you so much I can’t even begin to describe it. I’m sorry I’m not there to hug you, I waited 5 years for you, I’m sure I can wait more until we meet again in heaven”

The room was filled with Peter’s sobs and everyone was trying to calm him, but he just got up and left the room, with Rhodey trailing behind him.

“Dad, Pep, Morgan” you called as if you knew Peter wouldn’t be there anymore. “You guys deserve more than happiness in this farm we call home, please carry on, for me” you begged as a tear threatened to fall from your eye but you stopped as you turned around. “I’m sure Morgan will grow up to be a wonderful woman just as I did thanks to my father. Everything I am is because of you dad” You turned around to face them once again and warmly smiled.

“I love you 3000”

And with that, the hologram vanished. Y/N Stark was finally gone.

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isisparker · 4 years

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Fireworks

[The Rookie - Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen - Chenford fanfic]

word count: 1.6k a/n: what was supposed to be a Tim POV companion piece to my other chenford fic (which by the way I am so overwhelmed and honored by the response! thank you so much!), this turned into a different story altogether.

Tim Bradford saw love like fireworks. For most of his life that’s all he knew and believed it could be. He was built to endure and survive that type of love.

It first started, as most loves we all learn early on, within the home he grew up in. His father was a difficult man that doled out fists instead of hugs, condescension instead of compliments, and rage instead of compassion. Tim’s father loved him like a Chrysanthemum: explosive, better experienced from a distance, and leaving a trail of visible sparks (or in this case, scars both physical and emotional). Ask Tim about his mother and, truthfully, it felt akin to loving those tiny Hummer fireworks. As a child those were glorious as they spun and whizzed ever so quickly by. But as an adult, you realize how fleeting they were. Just temporary bursts of brightness.

When Tim started his career (and born his love for) the military and, eventually, the L.A.P.D., he fell into each respective lifestyle as hard and fast as a maroon rocket sailing into the Fourth of July sky. He quickly thrived in both environments. And both experiences resonating loudly enough to help define who he is now (beyond his strength, his loyalty, and overall being).

Then there was Isabel. His first real love. A fellow cadet in the Academy. His friend. His lover. The woman he married, once upon a time. Beautiful and bright Isabel. His Dahlia firework; a few years together spent that were no less supremely felt, despite a marriage contained in a suffocating shell, to become a love affair that eventually burned out. However their love dissipated, Tim doesn’t regret loving his Dahlia. Though loving her was fiery and dazzling, and despite how much the embers of that devotion left a scorch mark on his heart, Isabel taught Tim that sometimes the best way to love a firework was to walk away and allow it to burst and flourish on its own.

“What about Rachel?” Lucy Chen asked quietly. Her gaze was out towards the horizon where the light show at the Santa Monica Pier was anticipated to begin, yet her body leaned towards his own as it awaited for him to continue. The night wind danced faintly around them. A strand of her hair beckoned to be touched, causing Tim to pause as he fastened his hands deeper into his jean pockets.

Rachel. Tim hummed, contemplating a proper analogy to his feelings about his ex-girlfriend. It had been a few weeks after their amicable break-up. She had a job opportunity in another state that she couldn’t pass up. He couldn’t fault her for taking it up, just as she couldn’t fault him for not loving her enough to consider a long distance relationship.

Kind, smart, compassionate Rachel. A woman that, despite falling into because of a damn bet, became a force of light he didn’t realize he needed after Isabel. Her impact was immensely felt, but a piece of him knew that it would be short-lived. Tim smiled wistfully, “A beautiful waterfall.” He looked down at Lucy, a little mirthful as he explained, “Technically it’s a horsetail firework, but the effects are similar to a waterfall; long-burn explosion but only lasting a short distance before it broke free from its shell to fall back to earth.” He glanced back up, not wanting to see the pitying look in his Boot’s eyes.

Though he supposed that soon she’d no longer be his Boot. Colleague? Definitely. Partners? If he had any say but knew it’d be a hard sell to Grey. Friend? If Chen had any input on how she wanted to define themselves (and she does but he wasn’t about to give in so easily else she thinks he was a pushover for her, which sadly he might be if there’s any indication as to how she roped him into spending his free Saturday night watching fireworks).

When he looked back down at her, he was mildly surprised to see her looking at him not with pity but thoughtfulness. It was a good look on her, but he’s bore witness to it a few times on the job that it usually made him weary. “What, Chen?”

She stared at him a little longer than he admittedly was comfortable with. Almost as if warring with the words in her thoughts and the consequences once she’s allowed them out. Tim wasn’t about to squirm under her gaze anytime soon, but he wasn’t looking forward to hearing whatever psychoanalysis she was brewing inside that pretty head of hers.

Falling into a standard defense pose, he rolled his eyes and smirked at her, “Don’t make me regret opening up to you, Chen.”

Following with her own smirk, Lucy quipped, “I just asked you why you liked fireworks. Not give me a crash course of the Bradford Love Language.” She hummed, gave a short nod, then added, “At least now I know what to look for in finding the next, great love of your life.”

Tim chuckled at that before he shook his head. “Nope. Not happening, Chen.”

“Aw,” she pouted, “Why not?” Lucy grinned, “Did I not do an amazing job with Rachel?”

He conceded that she did. He even vocalized it as such. However, “I don’t need help falling in love, Chen.” Tim crossed his arms in a near defensive stance despite the teasing lilt in his voice.

“Well I know that it’ll be awhile before you date again!” Lucy nudged him with her body. He returned the nudge, causing her to giggle and call him a dork. “I’m just saying that now I know what kind of love you’re looking for!”

He raised his brow at her, amused that she believes to know him so well. Tim reached over to tuck a bit of her hair, a strand that continued to dance along the breeze, while she busily counted on her fingers that “You’re looking for a bold, passionate, all-consuming, explosive type of love!” Tim regarded her during her diatribe, bemused by the fact that despite her insistence on going without a jacket, her short sleeve blouse did little to hide the goosebumps caused by the California night air. Grateful that he had the foresight to wear a long sleeve henley, Tim barely paid mind to her words while removing his own jacket and placing it over her shoulder. “Oh, thanks,” she said, slipping her arms in its sleeves before continuing, “A love that will blindside you with how beautiful it is and knocking you on your ass!” A satisfied laugh escaped her lips as she asked, “Am I right?”

“Blindside, huh?” he mused. “Like how I blindsided you on our first patrol together?”

Lucy rolled her eyes despite returning Tim’s own teasing smirk. “Ha. Ha. Cute, Bradford.”

Tim nodded, “That I am,” he joked, earning another eye roll and a groan from her.

“Ugh,” she groused, “forget it!” Lucy glanced at her watch, “The show’s about to start soon.”

He quietly laughed at her exasperation towards him. Especially knowing that it won’t last long as she soon began bouncing on the balls of her feet like an eager child. Tim edged himself closer to her, serving as both barrier and protector from the crowd gathering to partake in that night’s activities. He knew that she didn’t need him to shield her from others, but it eased his own mind to know that he had her back should anything happen.

They stood together in companionable silence, the anticipation of the audience around them humming a prologue before the show itself. Tim took another chance to observe Lucy, unable to hide the smile on his face as he watched her excitement for the fireworks build.

She was twisting her pale oval-shaped ring on her finger, a twitch she had even before the events of He Who Shall Rot In Hell, as he likes to think of the asshole that nearly killed Lucy months back. He watched her toy with her ring a bit more before he fostered a heavy enough sigh to gain her attention. Just as Lucy was to question him, Tim reached out to grab her hand within his own.

He saw her tilt her head but he didn’t say a word. Tim half expected her to speak her mind (it was, after all, one of her more frustratingly endearing traits), but was relatively surprised when Lucy remained quiet…

“Not all love is like fireworks,” Lucy said finally, low enough for just the two of them. He could feel her barely concealed nerves as she spoke, which caused him to gently squeeze her hand in a comforting gesture.

“I know,” he replied, finding himself exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. And he did know. Sometimes love wasn’t loud fights, but concerned confrontation of hard truths to be said. Sometimes love wasn’t passionate courtship that struggled to breathe, but quiet trust and friendship being built through heartache and trauma. Sometimes love wasn’t meant to blaze the night sky, but to be that warm escape to someone’s dark abyss. Sometimes love isn’t a flower made of sulfur and magnesium, but one that blooms quietly until they’re ready to be embraced by tender hands.

Tim had known the heat, the boom, the wondrous feel of love like fireworks. He was built to endure and survive that type of love. But one that comes as softly as the night breeze caressing the face of the woman, his colleague, his friend, right next to him? Oh he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t scared of being brought to his knees by it.

~fin~

Sometimes love isn’t fireworks. Sometimes love just comes softly.

#the rookie #chenford #tucy #lucy x tim #chen x bradford #otp: you know me so well #my fanfic #i continue to hope that i do these two justice #writing from tim's pov ish was so much harder than lucy's!#but i wanted to write a story from tim's pining i mean...

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rebelminxy · 4 years

Text

Hungry Eyes

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3523

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (Male and Female receiving), Penetration

Square Filled: Fuck or Die

A/N: This was written for @spnkinkbingo and the aesthetic was made by @idreamofplaid. It takes place a year after the bunker was found.

MASTERLIST

SPNKinkBingo Masterlist

Sam was sitting in the library bunker when his cell phone went off. He picked it up and saw her number. He looked around carefully, making sure Dean wasn’t around and he answered quietly.

“Is everything ok?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“I need your help on a hunt, a witch hunt to be exact.”

“(Y/N), what did I tell you about hunting?”

“I know Sam, but you know I want to use my powers for good and eventually prove to your brother that some monsters are here to do good. I don’t want to be the stereotype anymore.”

Sam sighed, knowing that his argument would go right over her head.

“Fine, send me the location and will meet you there.”

“Thank’s Sam, you’re the best!”

======

It was almost close to midnight when Sam pulled into the parking garage. He had been driving almost non stop once he left the bunker, telling Dean that he was going on a hunt alone. Simple salt and burn that shouldn’t take him more than a week since it was a long drive to New Orleans.

He climbed out of his car and checked his surroundings. The garage level was empty other than a red jeep parked a bit ways from his car. He was about to make his way towards it when he felt something tug at his jacket. He saw a bit of a gold light dancing in front of him, guiding him towards the other side of the garage, away from the two cars. Once he reached that far end, he noticed someone leaning against the concrete wall that stopped cars from going over. He smiled internally, knowing exactly who was there.

“Didn’t tell Dean about this?” (Y/N) asked him, turning to face him as he got closer.

“Didn’t know you wanted him to come along,” Sam said, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

“Nah, just surprised since you two are stuck to the hip,” (Y/N) chuckled, moving towards Sam to give him a hug. “Missed you, bud.”

“Missed you too,” replied Sam softly, holding her tightly. “Sorry about Dean’s reaction when he found out you were a witch. He still has trouble trusting.”

“That’s fine, I understand. Remember, still got a few hunters trying to trail me.”

“It’s not fair, it’s not like you use your powers for evil. You heal those that are sick and help in any way you can.”

“At least you see that, but normally hunters don’t question. You were taught to kill what's bad, and with how some witches are, well it comes with the territory. As long as I have you in my corner, nothing else matters.”

Sam gave (Y/N) a weak smile, wishing he could do more than just help her hide and assist in a few hunts when she needed it.

“You know I’m always here for you, (Y/N/N).”

“Good, now let’s get moving. This witch won’t be too happy when she sees us.”

=====

Sam ran towards the locked door, trying with all his might to burst it open. He screamed out (Y/N)’s name as he saw various flashes of light shine from the bottom of the door. After a few more kicks, the door finally swung open. He saw the witch sprawled on the floor, her body split in two. When he looked to the other side of the room, he saw (Y/N) on the ground, holding her shoulder. She was groaning as she tried to get up. Sam ran to her to help her up. He lifted her up in his arms and carried her out of the room.

“I told you not to go off on your own!” Sam exclaimed as he guided her out of the house and to her jeep, placing her on the passenger side.

“Well, it was either distract that bitch or watch you get hurt, and I prefer the first option,” (Y/N) groaned out, holding her shoulder. “Fuck me, she hit me real hard with that last blast.”

Sam grabbed the tank of gasoline and a box of matches, heading over to burn the house with the witch’s body still inside. Once the fire was started, Sam grabbed everything and jumped into the jeep, speeding off to her home which was thankfully not that far. (Y/N) lived in a secluded area in the Bayou, only one road leading to her home. Sam made the quick drive, speeding down the dirt road, finally seeing the glitter of lights from her home.

The jeep pulled in front of her house, Sam jumping out to reach her side and carry her inside. He used her key that he had dug out from her bag and opened the front door, running to the back where her bedroom was at. Placing her on the bed, he ran to her bathroom in search of the medical kit. Once he found it, he ran back to her side, unpacking the bandages.

“Let me see that shoulder,” he stated, removing her top shirt and turning her to her side, her back facing him.

“It’s nothing, just a bit of PAIN!” (Y/N) screamed out that last word as Sam pressed on the bruised skin.

“This isn’t normal, your skin is bruised but the area is really hot and has a sort of glow to it.”

“Must be the after-effects from the spell she threw at me. Probably a spirit ball.”

“Let me put a patch on for the swelling and take care of the rest of your wounds. She did get a good slice of your thigh.”

Sam stripped her down to her undergarments, doing his best not to look at the places he wanted to. He took care of her small cuts and bruises, finishing his work in a few minutes. He wrapped her in a blanket and gave her some water before she knocked out cold. She had used up most of her magic fighting the witch, it wasn’t surprising for her to fall asleep.

Sam took a seat in a rocking chair a few feet away from her bed, watching her sleep. He smiled to himself, remembering the days when they shared a motel room together and he would watch her sleep after his early morning runs. She hunted with him and Dean for about five months before her secret was revealed. Sam had known before, being cautious about her intentions. But within time, he realized all she wanted was to do good, to not repeat her family’s history. But Dean wouldn’t hear it when he found out, sending her packing and telling her she should be grateful he wasn’t killing her like the monster she was.

Sam was angry at Dean for a few weeks, until (Y/N) reached out to him, telling him everything was alright and that she would stay in touch no matter what. And now here he was, in her little home making sure she would heal properly. Sam felt his eyes grow tired with sleep, his exhaustion getting the best of him. The last thing he saw was (Y/N) lying in her bed asleep before his eyes dropped closed, joining her in a deep sleep.

=====

Sam was having such a delicious dream, a dream that he constantly had after a phone call with (Y/N). She was down on her knees, sucking his cock while playing with his balls. He loved how she looked there, naked and her hair loose, her eyes never leaving his. But tonight the dream felt different. It felt more realistic. When Sam, opened his eyes, he did not expect to see what he saw.

(Y/N) was on her knees between his legs, actually sucking his length. Sam gasped as one of her hands was wrapped around him, the other toying with his ballsack. It took him a second to realize this wasn’t a dream, that this was actual reality. Sam jumped up from the rocking chair, pushing (Y/N) away from him. He started to fix his pants when he made it towards the bedroom doorway.

“What’s going on? Why were you doing that?!” Sam exclaimed in confusion.

(Y/N) didn’t answer, instead looked up at him. He was shocked to see her eyes glowing purple, her gaze never breaking away from him. He backed out of the room and shut the door behind him, trapping her inside. He heard her bang on the door as if trying to get out.

“Sam, please, help me,” he could hear her beg.

“What’s wrong? I’m not going to open the door until you tell me what's wrong.”

“The witch, she cast a curse on me. I can feel my life force draining,” (Y/N) yelped out. “Go get one of my curse books and look up any curse that leaves a purple glowing bruise behind!”.

Sam ran out to her living room, searching for her bookshelves for the books she was talking about. Once he found them, he searched through each book, totally to about five. When he searched book number six, he fell upon a curse that showed the same signs (Y/N) was talking about. The glowing bruise, the life draining, the purple eyes. Sam ran back to the bedroom door and yelled out to her.

“It’s called Draining Drive, it says here if you don’t receive life force from someone, then yours will drain out!”

“Fuck that bitch,” he heard her say through the door. “Sam, I’m going to need your help with this!”

Sam opened the door, seeing (Y/N) standing in the middle of the room. She was still in her underwear and sports bra, her body soaked in sweat, breathing heavily. Her eyes were flickering purple as she looked at Sam.

“I’m sorry Sam, but I hope you understand what I’m about to do and don’t take it the wrong way.”

Sam was about to ask what she meant when she ran towards him. He was about to fight back, but her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, her lips pressing against his in a kiss. He stood there frozen for a moment, confused as to what was happening, but his body took over as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to his body. She opened her mouth to him, his tongue sliding in so easily into her mouth, exploring inside. The kiss he only dreamed about was actually happening. His hands dug into her hair, his nails scraping her scalp. This was real.

But it wasn’t right. Sam opened his eyes and tried to pull her off him.

“Why are you doing this? If you need my life force you can take it by using a spell,” he argued.

“It’s not that kind of life force!” she exclaimed, jumping back off him, holding her stomach. “I need you to...I need you to fuck me.”

Sam stared at her in disbelief.

“What did you just…”

“Sperm is a form of life force. Simply put, if I don’t have sex soon, whatever I have in me gets drained out.”

“What kind of curse…”

“Some witches outright kill, others torture for their own amusement! Now please, Sam, I need you!”

Hearing her say that, it made him move into action.

“Always thought I would romance you with flowers and a nice dinner before we got here,” Sam mumbled before grabbing her face in between his hands and planting a big kiss on her lips.

Probably because of the curse, but (Y/N) groaned against Sam, her body arching into his. He licked her lips, his tongue begging for entrance, which she gave so willingly. Sam’s hands glided from her cheeks down her neck and shoulders, all the way to her waist, pulling her close as humanly possible. (Y/N) hands grabbed a handful of hair pulling his head back, breaking their kiss as she lowered her mouth down his jawline, licking his skin down his neck. Sam gasped when she bit down hard in the crook of his neck.

Sam grabbed her ass and lifted her up, her legs wrapping around him again. He carried her to the closest wall he could find, pressing her between his heated body and the cool wall. She rubbed her entire body against him, mumbling his name repeatedly. Her hands moved between them as it ripped his plaid shirt open, popping buttons from their string. She ripped his white undershirt open as well, her hands gliding all over his chest. Sam lowered her so he could remove the pieces of clothing she ripped, throwing them onto the floor. As her hands explored his heated skin, Sam unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, letting them hang open.

His mouth found her collarbone and he licked and kissed his way down to her bra cup, his hands roughly lowering the cups that hid her breasts. He held both her breasts in each hand, licking and suckling on one nipple as he teased the other with his fingers. He smiled to himself as he heard her groans of pleasure, her nails digging into his back, most probably leaving scratches along his back. He swirled his tongue around one areola before moving to do the same to the other.

“Sam, please, more,” she begged him.

He chuckled against her as he moved lower. He dropped down to his knees, his breathing heavy as his hands pressed onto her hips, not allowing her to move.

“Need a taste before anything.”

Without another word, he pressed his lips against her soaked panties, breathing in her smell as he kissed her core through the cloth. With one finger, he slid her panties aside and swiped his tongue across her slit, tasting more of her juices. With the said same hand, he parted her nether lips apart, lapping at her entrance. Her hands gripped at his hair, pulling tightly as her body shook in pleasure.

“Sam, please, Sam, I want more,” she whimpered.

He teased her clit a bit, causing her to jerk wildly above him. He then looked up at her and smiled.

“What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“Want you to fuck me, now,” she hissed as his tongue slid inside her.

“With my tongue,” he asked after he slid his tongue out from inside her. “Or with something else? You gotta tell me, baby.”

“Your cock….I want ...your cock….inside me,” she stuttered to say as he continued to tease her clit.

Sam didn’t have to be told twice. He got up to his feet and pulled his pants and boxers down in one swoop. He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. His hard cock was already at attention, grabbing (Y/N)’s attention and causing her to look at it with wide eyes.

“Think you can handle it, baby?” he asked with a smirk of pride.

“Even if I can’t, I just want it.”

He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her against the wall, using his thighs to hold her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted up as he guided his cock to her core. He barely had an inch inside her and she was whining out, either in pleasure or pain. So Sam took it slower, letting her body adjust to each inch he got inside. Once he was fully inside, he groaned out at the feel of her heat surrounding him. It was pure perfection, better than his dreams. He stood still for a moment so she could get used to his length inside her, but instead, she bit down on his earlobe.

“Fuck me, Sam Winchester, I can’t wait anymore.”

Sam growled as he pulled out and rammed right back in. She gasped out, her eyes rolling back as she got lost in pleasure. Sam continued his rough thrusting, not caring about the possible bruising later. He would care for her later, make sure she got her rest and energy. But, in this moment, all he cared about was bringing the beautiful woman in his arms the ultimate pleasure, make her know that she belonged to him and no one else would ever make her scream as she was at this moment.

He pressed his forehead against hers, relishing in the noises they both made. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, his name riding off her lips, the sensation of her heat tightening around him, it was dragging him so close to the borderline, but he wanted her pleasure first.

“Sam, please, I’m almost there,” she whimpered, her core quivering.

“Give it to me baby, Come for me, I want to feel it,” he croaked out, his face moving to her throat, teeth grazing along the tender skin.

Her legs tightened around him, his hands gripping her thighs hard. His pounding lost its rhythm, moving faster and faster. He could feel how close she was, and he was too. Suddenly, he felt her entire body arch and tighten up around him, her screams bouncing off the walls.

“SAM!” she yelled out as her body spasmed from pleasure.

As she rode out her high, Sam thrust into her a few more times before he went over, her name escaping his lips in a plea. His body jerked against her as he filled her up with his cum. They both rode out their high, bodies using the wall for support. Once they were back, neither moved. They stayed that way against the wall for a few seconds, staring at each other as they caught their breath, the purple hue disappearing from her eyes. Sam was still inside her hard as a rock.

“You ok?” he asked through his heavy breathing.

“Yeah, you?”

He nodded in response.

“Good, think you can go again?”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled.

“Good, now move me to the bed so we can go another round.”

=====

Sam woke up with the sun shining on his face, the soft chirps of the birds outside and the smell of pancakes. He took in his surroundings and remembered exactly where he was and the events of the night. He slowly got up and grabbed his jeans, putting them on as he made his way towards the kitchen. There, he found (Y/N) cooking, dressed in a silk robe that barely hid her body. He took a seat at the dining table, catching her attention from the movement of the chair.

“Good morning, big guy! Hungry?”

“Definitely.”

“Good! Made some pancakes and scrambled egg whites just like you eat them and chopped up a bit of fruit,” she responded with a smile, picking up two plates from the counter. “Orange juice or coffee?”

“Coffee,” Sam responded with a smile.

(Y/N) poured him a cup and got herself some orange juice, taking a seat across from him. They ate in silence, enjoying the quiet morning. Once they cleared their plates, (Y/N) cleared the table and went to wash the dishes. Sam sat there watching her, wondering who was going to break the ice from last night.

“So, about last night,” she began.

“Look, I get it was for the whole curse situation,” Sam interjected. “I just hope it doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

“It wouldn’t, I mean, the curse was broken after the first one.”

Sam’s jaw dropped at the revelation.

“Wait, so...afterwards…”

“Those were more me wanting to fulfill a fantasy of mine,” she whispered, turning the sink off but not turning to look at him.

“Clarify that exactly,” Sam stated as he got up from his chair and headed over to her.

“I mean,” she sighed. “I’ve always had a thing for you, just wasn’t sure if you only saw me as a friend, and was afraid to ruin what we had for a crush.”

Sam placed a hand under her chin and turned her to look at him.

“To be honest, (Y/N) I’ve always liked you. And I felt the same way, scared of ruining what he have for more. But if you really like me the way I like you…”

“I do,” she whispered.

“Then, I’m not letting you go,” he whispered back, placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

It was the sweetest kiss and Sam pulled her into him, wrapping his strong arms around her. Before he could deepen the kiss, she pushed away.

“What about Dean? He wouldn’t be happy with the idea of his baby brother dating a witch.”

“Eh, he better get used to it. Plus, it’s you. I believe he will eventually see the good person you really are.”

“I swear, what did I do to deserve a guy like you in my life?” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Hmmm, I’ve been asking the same thing since I first met you,” Sam answered back.

(Y/N)’s eyes glowed a shade of green, not the purple hue they had last night. Sam laughed out as she pulled him into her, kissing him deeply before snapping her fingers to bring them back into the bedroom.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam x you #witch!reader #spnkinkbingo

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chiimmchiimm · 4 years

Text

❝𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 !¡ 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 ❞

CHAPTERS “ 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 “

The northern jail was the most dangerous in the country, social scum, thousands of criminals were locked behind their bars. Who would tell poor Blair that he would end up there because of his father’s mistake. The problem was not the lack of hot water, but that inhuman obsession that many of the prisoners had for “new toys.” Rookies had two options; be submissive and abide by veterans’ orders or suffer the dangerous anger of those disturbed minds. It all started one night when Blair had the bad idea of going to shower alone.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookoffender au x (female: Blair) 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut.(later), offender au, fluff, angst. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 3.8 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: abuse, violence, , sadness, psychological abuse, dirty lenjuage, half-naked, impressive backs, muscles. 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: Well, I am very grateful for the love you are giving him. I’ll upload the next one later. Delicate scenes and some morbid ones that will increase the tension are coming.

I didn’t keep an eye on the whole night because of the weary thoughts that gathered in my conscience. Akame would not sit idly by and I was sure that my boldness would pay her sooner or later, however, a hope had stuck in my chest from the bathroom scene. That stranger had been so kind. It had saved me from the atrocities that Akame had surely thought for me.

I didn’t even know who I was but I felt indebted to him.

In all the years I had been living in Los Angeles at any time I could see someone the same. I did not speak only for the physique so suffocating that it had left me petrified when I navigated it, but for the direct look I had. As if his dark eyes will only focus on one thing downplaying the rest of the world. Without hesitation, her beauty had left me without valid descriptions.

Currently, I was sitting in the large leisure space under the stairs. My legs in Indian position while I leaned forward to hold my head with one hand. Solé was in front of me with a wad of letters. I was thinking of the best strategy to end the smile so triumphant that Dallas scrubbed with superiority. Then, as if all his neural connections had agreed to get the best idea, he threw a letter to his opponent and immediately undid his smile.

“Shit. He cursed under his breath as he threw the cards on the table. “Old lady, who taught you how to play like that?“

“When you live with a Ludopata whore for thirty five years, you teach yourself to play even if you don’t want to,” he muttered completely calmly as he ordered his wad of cards. But as I managed to emphasize earlier, Solé was a person who could not hide his pain. That is what I saw in his eyes. One so big and dangerous that he got his positive attitude to vanish as fast as lightning strikes. Dallas watched her for a moment. Finally, she sighed resigned to living with her unhealthy memories and looked at both of us with a half-done smile. “Never let someone humiliate you and denigrate you as people.” Don’t make the same mistake as me, girls.

Sole rose from his seat and climbed the stairs in silence. Dallas lost her gaze among the pile of cards on the table while I kept looking at her until the metal of the stairs completely prevented me from following her.

“She burned her husband and her lover’s whore.” She commented between dramatic pauses. With his voice mired in his thoughts as he sighs and lifts his head to bump into my surprised reaction. Then he smiled. “I threw them three liters of gasoline and set them on fire.”

“Fuck, you don’t know how much I admire her for that. She had the ovaries to kill that son of a bitch who was mistreating her for so many years. That’s what it’s worth, Barbie.”

I put aside my annoyance for that stupid nickname to give way to my curiosity about the subject. Everything that had to do with Solé mattered to me.

“To burn someone?” I asked confused by his last sentence.

“No.” I denote the adverb with a short chuckle. “To have the courage and do what you want.”

In that aspect I was a little short. Throughout my short and boring existence I had done nothing but follow the absurd norms of society. I had never been allowed to go crazy because immediately the scandal would close around my family. Thanks Dad. In short, towards everything that was known as “politically correct” from not cursing in front of people to not saying what they thought. A young lady had to keep her composure and show submission to those of greater age range. If I thought about it, the true and only time I had done what I wanted had ended up being threatened by a crazy Asian girl and saved by a penetrating stranger.

“Do you know thirteen?” The question came from my lips without thinking of the consequences it would have. Dallas between opened her lips when she heard me. His red nails were embedded in the leftover fabric of his jacket to calm his tremor. I was really surprised how the simple pronouncement of a name could cause him so much fear. And of course, curiosity increased a hundred percent.

“Don’t go near him if you know what’s right for you.” In the depths of his tone there was a warning. He had leaned forward and raised his eyebrows in compass with the grin of his mouth. Between I closed my eyes trying to understand his attitude so evasiba. Then Dallas analyzed my face with a rather alarming curiosity for me. “Why do you ask me about him?”

“Because everyone talks about him and was curious, nothing more.” I answered with my great ability to really hide what I wanted to say. I was good at lying as long as the person in front of me didn’t intimidate me. Dallas made my homework quite easy since her attitude was far from the outgoing girl I met the first day. “Hey … I didn’t sympathize with Julia.” I didn’t know her but I’m really sorry.

Dallas’s ironic smile left me speechless.

“Dallas was not my friend.” He replied, raising his tone compared to the lazy voice he had used with the previous talk. His safety was something I did not understand. When he saw the confusion reflected in the wrinkles of my face as he frowned, he took a more relaxed sigh and curved his back as before. “We don’t have friends here, Barbie.” We only have partners to tell our shits to someone and not feel completely alone. I will not deny that his death has impressed me but from there to fuck my humor for an aunt I knew just a year ago, well no.

His lack of sensitivity did not surprise me being honest. That quality seems not to be around here much. Those who did not shout and beat stayed in corros watching as the others did. Practically this place was the jungle where the animals most likely to survive either by their strength or power ruled over the weakest others. The problem was that I didn’t know where it fit because my character was strong and considered me, as humanly possible, brave and decided only that the physicist was never on my side. I was not short but I was not tall and my thin body is not that it will help much in the fight for survival. In clearer terms, I was in shit.

My talk with Dallas didn’t last long after that. Now I was inhaled the suffocating vapors of the showers while I waited patiently for one to leave. I picked up my towel and soap. Afterwards, I got into a ucha and opened the water that was not very hot but at an almost pleasant temperature. Clean all the dirt that had accumulated when matching the library shelves. When I thought I was clean enough to finish my shower session I turned to the hanger to pick up my towel, the problem? That had disappeared. I was no longer hooked on the small hook, I even looked on the floor in the hope that it would only have fallen but for me bad luck I realized soon after. Someone had taken my towel. So, taking a long breath to calm down I left the marble plate and walked towards the white where my things were. What looked like a fucking high school girl joke became something more serious when I realized that my clothes were also not where I had left her.

“Have you seen my clothes?” She looked crazy asking something like that in the midst of so many deranged women but they had given me no choice. Fortunately the tone did not shake me and I could pronounce the words quite firmly. I was upset and my face was a vivid image of it. I adjusted my hands more to my feminine attributes when a girl passed by me and I whistle like a dog. The maniacal laughter soon drilled my head. Getting more nervous at times I decided to hurry into the bathroom cubicle. I clenched my fist and hit the wall with rage. Then, when I had my forehead on the cold plastic of the wall, I could see that a towel stood out from the upper edge of the bathroom. I didn’t even take the time to know if I had or didn’t own it, I caught it quickly, I got involved with it and ran out of there.

The bruised smiles of those women was the last thing I saw before going out the door of the locker room.

With the hand firmly holding the ends of the towel so that it does not go down a centimeter. The main plot seemed crazy. I met two guards in my race to the bedrooms, each one more stupid for his sexist comments that shouted in howls of dogs in heat. My misfortune had a name and it was Akame’s. I had no proof of my accusation but that is, wasn’t it obvious? What surprises me is that it has been lowered to make this kind of funky and childish jokes.

“London!” What does he do for god’s sake?

The governor shouted at me when I raised myself in front of the closed door of my module. And far from looking like a woman who had intentions to help me, I kept seeing my outfit as something scandalous that to judge with her annoyed grimace I would not hesitate to say that I thought I was spoiled. And of course it wasn’t at all.

“Dress up!” His insistence made me roll my eyes.

“That’s what I’m going.” I commented without grace at his repetitively tired attitude.My comment seemed to dislike him too much since he immediately closed his annoying eyes. “My clothes and towel have been stolen.” This one you see here is not mine and I have no idea who it is. Believe me, I don’t want to be that way either, but I don’t lie to him when I tell him that I have nothing else to cover myself with. Can you help me please?”

The governor cabildo a couple of seconds the answer until he turned to the guard and took a good look to open it. I gave the woman a forced smile to feel my gratitude. He approached me and touched my shoulder before entering the module. I followed her behind without expecting that each and every one of the prisoners would find themselves in their leisure time and that they would end up impacting on one’s chest by mistake.

“But what is this little thing we have here?”

A disgusting whisper made him take a small leap backwards. I squeezed the ends of the towel at the moment two men stood in front of me. I toured their tattooed bodies with some disgust but my act only caused them grace. There was a pale redhead who played with his mouth piercing while running through my bare legs. The other, a pretty intense blond who didn’t take his eyes off my scared eyes.

“Hey you bastards!” If you want to make a straw go to the bathroom like everyone else does! ”Out of nowhere a voice that I recognized instantly came between us when he placed himself in front of me covering his disgusting glances. Dallas lifted her chin and with an unfriendly look persuaded them there among more insults that I would not dare to repeat. Then, he turned around and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You want to die, right?”

A grotesque whistle intervened in my reply.

“Pigs!” Dallas turned to the upper railing and extended her middle finger. The man shook his head at us as he laughed with his companions. Dallas took my arm and dragged me up the stairs to our shared cell. He pressed the button to close the door with his fist clenched. I ran to my bed to put the shed under the pillow. “What did you want to do a model step? Those bastards wouldn’t have hesitated to rape you if there were no cameras …”

“I know, fuck!” exhale exasperating me at times. Shaking my hair in a nervous act. The asphyxiating pressure of my chest did not end until I completely covered my body with the uniform. A rather perverse shiver went through my body when I recreated his eyes on my bare skin. Disgusted, it was the feeling that perfectly described how I felt about those depraved. “But Akame was in charge of reminding me that I owe him a favor with this shit …”

“What?” My answer seemed to surprise him. He opened his eyes erratically when he heard that he pronounced the name of the Asian psychopath. His fingers clenched my forearm madly making me groan at his impromptu act. “You can’t owe anything to Shanghai, for your sake. Solve it.”

Without saying anything else he left me confused. Was he afraid of that woman so much that he began to hyperventilate just by hearing her name? I had no more than a cheap copy of the typical high school thug. I had encountered several throughout my life and the only thing they transmitted to me was a huge shame. They always followed the same pattern were so predictable. First, they were looking for the weak prey to strengthen their security against other people. Second, they believed themselves with sufficient will to rule over others that were not up to it. I had already become accustomed to fear living with my father. So, that woman did not transmit anything to me except a chill session.

The patio sun was falling on my eyes causing what will close them to protect my retinas from light overstimulation. I was breathing the little oxygen that came with the air. I had to calm down if I didn’t want to commit any madness.

He watched with boredom as a pile of ants clustered in a hole in the basketball court, and as they subsequently entered it and disappeared. What envy I had at once, as I would also like to disappear and that the earth swallowed me. Not even Dallas’s whining attitude seemed funny to me when Sole won her hand skillfully.

“Are you Barbie?” A sharp voice startled me instantly. I lifted my head from the ground and watched the girl in front of me. Between I closed my eyes annoyed, not because of the poor girl who had done nothing to me, but because of the stupid nickname with which she had called me. My mother gave me a name for something and not for two brains to come up with a nickname as ridiculous as the nickname of a doll. And by the way, I still don’t understand its origin. “Take this is for you.”

I leave a folded paper on top of my legs and disappeared in a small race. I frowned confused by her shy girl attitude. He was younger than me but not too much. I saw her blond hair disappear when she got inside the building. I grabbed the paper note with my fingers and watched it as if it were an archway that was totally unknown to me. Unfold the note with care not to crack it and read its contents:

Cell 345. At 18 hours.

“What is it?” Dallas’s sudden voice scared me. I closed the note when I noticed that his eyes were directed towards her with curiosity. His body bent so much towards me that his arm was attached to mine. I didn’t understand your attitude, why now

did she behave as if we were friends? I have not forgotten his first day teasing yet. Keep the note in my jacket pocket and get up. Dallas followed me with her gaze.

“Nothing.” Raise your eyebrows in unison so that you drop the subject.

Suddenly, my neck suffered a recreated puncture to alarm me. Then, I looked away at the benches that were hiding at a corner of the great courtyard. I immediately found a feline look that had not stopped looking at me even when I realized that it was. I wrinkled my lips inertia.

His look flooded with hatred didn’t make me turn away from mine. As I said before she didn’t scare me.

Akame got up from the bank slowly. Activate my survival instinct and consequently I took a step towards his direction. However, the brunette turned her gaze a few seconds towards another direction, undid her step and entered the building.

But what?

I followed the direction of his gaze. Dark orbs cut my breath when they noticed my attention to their person. There he was. Giving me a half smile to perceive the redness of my cheeks. I talked to a blond shorter than him, however, he didn’t look away from my agitated body. The intensity of his gaze was so penetrating that incalculable cramps squeezed the mouth of my stomach. He looked in a relaxed position while resting half a body on the wall. The sleeves of his jacket were rolled up leaving his tattoos in sight of any curious who stopped to admire them. And I was. Because my gaze could not stop only on his features. The light reflected on his face and I could better appreciate its appeal compared to the few bathroom lights. It was beautiful. With the perfect proportions to make anyone rave.

His lips gleamed hypnotizingly when his tongue slipped slowly over his handsome ones. I could perceive a glow of mischief in the depth of his dark pupils.In short, he was the man who had most aroused my curiosity, not even the stupid of my ex boyfriend had made me tremble as he did.

Why was everyone afraid of him? Who was? Why do you help me? Millions of questions gathered in my head producing an exciting headache that would end up disappearing when I met them. Was he the one with the mysterious note? I wasn’t crazy, I thought that because the last thing he told me before he disappeared was exactly that, that we would see each other tomorrow.

I don’t know if it was curiosity that controlled my actions or whether Thirteen really demanded my presence. For some strange reason I couldn’t deprive myself of seeing him again. So, I climbed the stairs of the male module while holding my breath for a long time. Clenching the little note into a fist inside my jacket pocket every time I met a couple of nasty looks that surely hadn’t forgotten the incident this morning.

A few minutes later, I reached the corresponding cell, however, when I went to knock on the door, it swung open, leaving me with my hand hanging. A brown boy with his hair down welcomed me. His square jaw moved slightly to the side when he saw me. Its height prevented me from feeling small. Why were Asians so tall? Fuck, it barely reached the middle of my city. Then, I began to suggest with my restless eyes that he will turn away observing in a short period of time what he would find behind him.

“I’m leaving, Thirteen. See you later,” he announced in a soothing tone. He raised his lips to recreate an impromptu smile that resulted in the sweetening of his manly features. At first glance you could see that it was not so intimidating if you took the time to analyze their gestures. Without much more to say, I turn aside to leave the cell. Then, I dare to enter and …

“Oh my god!” I cover my eyes immediately when I visualize the impressive muscles of his back. “P-sorry!” I stutter between abnormal sighs from the scene that deprive my little hands. I hear a hoarse laugh in the background which causes my hands to start to sweat. I should have knocked on the door or just asked if it was available for a talk.

“You know? Many women would pay to see what you now cover with your hands.” I’m not even sure if what I heard was a low moan or simply that her voice is too provocative. The only thing I was aware of was the annoying cramps that accumulated in the lower area of my belly. His fucking voice was such an appealing melody that he would lose his sanity if he lowered his tone that way again. “I know you want to look and it doesn’t bother me.”

How can it not bother you to look at a stranger? And how can he have the nerve to propose something like this if we have barely met only twice? Only something could make it clear and it was the little shame this man had. In addition, the great security he had for his physique, and it was not for less, if I had his, I would also be proud.

“Can you put something on, please?”

My vision was still covered but I could materialize a smile under his glossy lips.

“Do you feel uncomfortable?” He asked through a mischievous attitude. I was not aware of his closeness until I noticed how his breathing warmed my ear. Listen to the wet sound of your lips as you wet them with your tongue. Swallow sharply. By now I should have noticed everything that caused his intimidating attitude in me. Then, his lower lip moistened the shell of my ear when he leaned in to whisper. “Where are you uncomfortable, Blair? Down there maybe?”

My face began to burn under the surface of my palms. My irregular breathing to take a distant rhythm to healthy. God, what a shame. I held a gasp when his big hands slid around my waist, pulling my body toward his. Touching with my knuckles the compaction of his warm and soft chest. The laugh that landed on my fingers was completely disastrous for me, unfortunate tremor. Then, he confidently inhaled my hair just before puffing into my ear.

"It’s time for you to return the favor.”

✞

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eclipsewarrior101 · 4 years

Text

Ducktales Crossover Fanfic: The Lost Mc.Duck Part 15:

This is a more au story based off of @kristyavson @kristyavsonhero2 and @eclipsewarrior101 gene and Green Eggs & Ham. This Au is a mix between Ducktales Gene au and Anastasia with a cartoon crossover.

So In this chapter Sam and Guy set out to arrange a meeting between Scrooge Mc. Duck and Gene...no matter what. And Villains plan their next move. WARNING: This will be a long chapter.

Scrooge Mc. Duck was not in a good mood. His nephews had come barging in during a meeting and they had mentioned gene again. Apparently them and Gyro found a kid who they believed was gene. But scrooge ended up yelling at them and told them enough. He decided to go on a limo ride to the Money bin and sit there upset.

Scrooge: huh...oh Gene...i...i want to believe...but...me old heart can’t take another imposter...I’m sorry lad....

After about an hour he felt bad for yelling and decided to promise the kids ice cream as a way to apologize. He walked to the limo and got in waiting for his driver. When the driver got in however something seemed off...the limo sped away like a maniac...

Scrooge: ugh Curse me kilts what in blazes is going on

An unfamiliar voice: sorry sir but we have to talk to you....

Another unfamiliar voice: SAM DRIVE BETTER

Scrooge yelled out curing in scottish until the limo came to a complete stop. Then scrooge’s door was opened and there was Guy opening the door for him. Scrooge soon whacked guy with a cane a few times curing in scottish and getting mad. Then Sam came into view trying to calm them down.

Scrooge: Curse me kilts you deadbeat, get off me....(he continues to whack him)

Guy: OW ow ow...stop... ow ow ow...look we need to... Ow ow ow... SAM

Sam: (look Scrooge) Mr Mc. duck...Mr. Mc. Duck... please stop... we need to talk to you....its about gene we-

Scrooge: (stops hitting guy and looking mad) ENOUGH....why must people only care for yourselves...can’t you understand an old man can only take so much....I am done with this nonsense i am done with....what is that

Sam then showed him the purple guitar with the gold rim and the dollar sign on it. Scrooge then was handed it and held it in his hands with tears in his eyes....

Scrooge: B-but....how...where...where did you

Guy: look, sir I understand your hurting and you feel alone but there is a kid we know who feels the same way,

Sam: If you just talk to him i can assure you he is the missing piece you have been looking for.

Scrooge looks at sam for a moment and has this feeling

Scrooge: have i seen you before....

Sam: yes green eggs....but that’s not important....please scrooge come with us...let us take you to your lost nephew...

The words green eggs made scrooge think for a moment to..the party..but he ignores it for now and thinks about this until he agrees. but first he had to pick up his kids. They ride back to the mansion then go to where sam and guy know gene is....

Meanwhile:

Gene is miserable and angry at the same time...he sits alone at a pizza restaurant where he had a pizza and a soda. He was so mad, how could they do that to him...lie to him. Even worse his guitar was missing and he was so sure sam and guy had it...The waitress at the time felt bad for the kid and told him to stay as long as he wanted...he was grateful. He then heard soemone come in but his bac was towards the door. then he heard a waitress say something about him and he groaned in annoyance...great what did those liers want...

Gene: GO away Guy....You too Sam...I am not in the mood

He heard the footsteps getting closer and he turned to say something else

Gene: I SAID GO A-....way...(when he stopped and stared in shock,,,,)

There standing there was Scrooge Mc.Duck with his cane and the four kids were behind him talking to him and saying things like “see its him” “we weren’t lying uncle Scrooge”

Gene (embarrassed) O-oh...i am so sorry, i thought you were

Scrooge: i know who you thought i was lad...better question is...who are you

Gene looking at the kids who signaled him to speak, tried to find his words

Gene: I...I’m Gene...and i was hoping you...could maybe tell me that...

The kids start talking to scrooge who goes up to the boy and looks at him...unimpressed

Scrooge: well you certainly look like my gene, your the best actor I’ve seen

Gene: A-actor, um i have no idea what your implying sir but im no actor I’m just a street kid...

Scrooge: (laughing mockingly) And Ey suppose the money doesn not interest you either lad...

Gene: N-no...i...i had no clue there was a reward...my travel....aquaintences never told me-

Scrooge: Look lad, you seem nice, but i am old and im done with beign tricked....

The kids began getting upset and telling scrooge to listen which he began showing he was done.... he began to walk away calling the kids who were protesting

Scrooge: Listen lads...i know you want to believe he’s alive and i do too, i blame myself for what happened and if i could have one wish it

genes eyes widen at wish....he ...he heard that from somewhere.....

Gene then began saying aloud: wish....baby elephant....giant sundae...flying...hahaha toys coming to life....

Scrooge and the kids turn to look at gene as he says this. They are shocked....those were their wishes they made to gene when he was a genie. how would this kid know that stuff

They went back over to gene who continued

the kids him about the wishes.

Gene: man those were the best wishes...i have ever made.....i mean for once i got to be normal....

gene holds a hand to his forehead as he felt weak. he sits down and now scrooge and the kids are interested...even scrooge seemed to be intrigued.

Gene: i....all i ever wanted was to be normal kid..to have...a family. and you...

He turns to the kids and his eyes gleamed with a familiar feeling

Gene: Huey, dewey, louie and Webby... you kids... helped me....you protected me when you knew i was scared and told me you were always there for me....

Gene: (Looks at scrooge) And i knew i could be the smarter than the smarties and tougher than the toughies...like...you

Scrooge’s eyes widened at those words....that was his mantra he had taught the kids. he looked at gene and gene seemed to see what he was doing and smiled. Scrooge was almost in tears...could it be, could he be... then remember the guitar and he grabbed it and showed it to gene.

Gene: M-my guitar...the one...the one you got me at the party. to play our lullaby...I..i think...i remember how to play the rest of the song how

Gene tunes the guitar and slowly begins to play and he indeeds plays the songs as he hums it

gene: on the wind cross the sea hear this song and remember....

Scrooge and kids join him (with tears in their eyes) Soon you’ll be home with me, once upon a december

Gene is crying for he know knows...he remembers...

Gene: Unca Scrooge....Kids....

Scrooge: My Gene....my sweet Gene...your home

Scrooge and the kids are crying as they pull him into a hug and begin talking while hugging. he kids being saying stuff like “we missed you” “we loved you” while scrooge says stuff like “my lad” “i've missed you” “I’m so sorry”

the restaurant staff is cheering and crying at the scene

outside the diner Sam and Guy are watching with with happiness and sadness in thier eyes as they walk away but not before sam quietly mouths

Sam: congrats gene-tar player

Scrooge sees him and mouths a thank you and sam and guy say it back and leave.

Unknowingly a Raven Poe is watching from afar and knows this will be bad news for his sister plan

thansk you for reading this chapter, it was a hard one to do but it was worth it. So please read chapters 1-14 before you read this chapter. A big thanks to @kristyavson, @kristyavsonhero2 for helping me with this story so far she is awesome. Thanks have a great night

#ducktales crossover fanfic: The Last Mc.Duck #anastasia gene au #Gene #Scrooge Mc Duck #Huey #Dewey #Louie #Webby #Sam #Guy

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manggojooz · 5 years

Text

Take My Hands Now (Part 7)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

word count: 2,660 thereabouts

genre: drama, angst

summary: You were born with a condition that allowed you to feel the pain someone else was going through when you touched them. Jungkook, on the other hand, looked like he could not be any less bothered with other people’s feelings and was a well known playboy of the school. One night, at a party, while he attempted to turn you into his toy for the night, he grabbed your hand and pain crashed through you, making you wonder whether behind the facade of this pleasure seeker, he could also be hiding something.

warnings: none

“Then go ahead... it’s as easy as holding my hand.”

The words carried the same somberness as the dark streets outside the mansion. The low resounding bass of the music still blasting from the house occasionally escaped to reach your ears like the thumping of your own heart.

“Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you… I…”, he tried.

“Then what do you want? What are you trying to do?”, you demanded as you lowered your hand.

There was an uncertainty and awkwardness to the entire situation. What did he want exactly? What is there to explain? And what were you upset about?

A light beamed into your face out of nowhere, you looked behind Jungkook. A car stopped at the roadside, and Mirae alighted from it. Perfect.

You stalked past Jungkook who stood like he was stuck to that patch of asphalt.

Mirae watched you come up to her and curiously asked, “You’re leaving now?” You nodded minimally, without even stopping, you quickly got into the cab. She took another look at Jungkook who still had his back facing her before she got in after you.

He could hear it. The car was leaving; you were leaving.

---

Jungkook’s vision was hazy the next morning as he opened his eyes. He blinked it away and stared up at the ceiling facing him. He doesn’t remember how much he drank last night, he doesn’t remember where he is now.

He inhaled the cold air around him, and it hurts. He exhaled the warm air from his lungs, and it hurts. This wasn’t abnormal, he feels it all the time. He never knew why, it just became like this overtime.

“Then what do you want? What are you trying to do?”, he heard your voice, as though it came from a dream that he doesn’t remember dreaming.

He gradually recalled last night. He stopped breathing, but it still hurts. It felt like someone stuck a bunch of band-aids on his insides, and now, they were being peeled off one by one. He raised his arm to rest it over his eyes, his cheekbone below his left eye felt sore.

Something else flooded back into his mind. He was storming back through the gates in the dark night when he saw Hoseok coming out to meet him in the garden. Before Hoseok could say anything, Jungkook marched up to him and punched him right in the face, causing him to tumble onto the grass.

Hoseok looked at him in utter shock, Jungkook has never once really punched him despite often threatening to do so. And then Hoseok stood up and fought back, his fist landing at the spot which was now probably bruised.

“What? We gonna fight cause of some girl now? What in the world is wrong with you?”, Hoseok said angrily while lunging at Jungkook again.

“What in the world is wrong with us. It’s not each other we are fighting”, Jungkook said with a cold expression, so cold that Hoseok stopped dead in his tracks and could only silently watch as Jungkook stomped past him back into the house.

In the present, Hoseok came to look for Jungkook and he finally realizes that he was lying on the bed in Hoseok’s guest room.

“I’m grateful you didn’t barf in here”, Hoseok walked further in and leaned against the cupboard as Jungkook managed to get his hungover body to sit up on the edge of the bed.

“You alright?”, Hoseok asked, somewhat reminding Jungkook of you and making him feel instantaneously worse.

“Not really”, Jungkook was rubbing his forehead with his thumbs.

After a moment of silence, Hoseok uttered, “I don’t understand what’s going on with you, so... should I be apologising for yesterday? Or are we cool?”

It wasn’t really Hoseok’s fault, Jungkook knows as much and he did already punch him once.

---

Maybe some things just don’t change. Hoseok called him again that night, hollering at him over the phone about this new club he was at, how amazing it was and demanding Jungkook to join him.

“Not interested!”, Jungkook yelled back into the phone, mostly so that Hoseok could hear him.

“What now? You gonna change your spots? Let me tell you something my leopard friend, people don’t change just because they want to! You think you can change who you are for someone else? That shit doesn’t last!”, Hoseok shouted back through the phone.

Jungkook hung up and headed downstairs to the kitchen to get some water, still feeling his hangover. He stopped halfway down the stairs as he found his father walking through the living room, within earshot range from the guest room. Even from where Jungkook stood he could hear his mother with another male voice in there. The tabloid reports clearly had little deterrent effect.

His father looked up at him, “you are home early today”, he said quizzically.

Jungkook stared at his father, that same feeling continuously brewing within him with each breath he took, “you are home early too, Dad”.

“Oh no, I just came home to get this”, raising up a black folder, “got to get back to the office now”, he said scrunching his face into a jokingly annoyed frown.

“I see… Don’t work yourself too hard”, one end of Jungkook’s lips was raising marginally, trying so hard to pretend that everything was ok. His father just smiled back at him and turned to leave.

The voices from the guest room down the hall bounced off the walls of the living room, but the emptiness of his departure was more resounding. Ever since Jungkook could remember anything, this was how it had always been. How do you even begin to change something, to change someone?

---

Jungkook walked into the club, immediately attracting much attention. The same kind of music was blaring into his ears, lights flashing into his eyes and human bodies bumping into his sides.

Numerous girls tried to approach him, but he stood alone, hands hanging over the bars on the second-floor platform overlooking the dance floor below, waiting for Hoseok to get him a drink. He was eyeing one flirtatious young woman who was sitting at a table with a gang of well-built men, men who were much older than she was.

She caught him looking at her from time to time and she whispered something into her companion’s ears before standing up to walk away. As she pranced up the stairs towards where Jungkook was, her eyes occasionally met his, but when she reached the top landing, he wasn’t to be seen.

Out of nowhere, he suddenly appeared behind her, pulled her into a corner behind a crowd of people and her back slammed against the concrete wall. He barricaded her against the wall by putting up his arms on both sides of her head.

“Looking for someone?”, he asked her smugly but coldly.

“Weren’t you the one looking for me?”

He smirked at her, “I was and do you know why?”

“Why not you show me why”, she said with such typical suggestiveness.

It was still as easy as before. She started to put her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, ready for contact. His eyes were half-lidded, looking at her with contempt. Just as their lips were about to meet, Jungkook tilted his head away from her.

“You are so easy”, he whispered.

Her eyes dart open. “What did you just say?”

As abruptly as every other part of this night, some guy grabbed Jungkook by his arm and pushed him away from the woman he cornered. “What the heck do you think you are doing?”, he hissed at the woman first, his arms filled with large tattoos which looked like clichés.

“What? He flirted with me first”, she replied in a slutty way.

He turned to look at Jungkook, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheeks. “You think you can just go around messing with other people’s woman, huh?”

“It’s not my problem if your woman is more than willing to be messed with by me”, Jungkook taunted.

The man started to nod with a threatening vibe, “Is that what you think? Are you just asking to be taught a lesson, you little asshole?” By this time, the rest of the entourage had assembled upon the scene and Jungkook just looked at them with satisfaction.

He sneered arrogantly, prompting the first man to take a swing at his face, which he effortlessly avoided. That pissed them off more and they started to come at Jungkook together. It devolved into a mess – there was shouting, cursing, punching and kicking everywhere. Jungkook primarily took a defensive stance, but he crumbled to the ground after something hit him hard on his head. He started to hear Hoseok calling his name somewhere in the mix of noises and slowly he drifted off into unconsciousness.

---

When he woke up, he was at the hospital, Hoseok standing at the end of his bed talking to two policemen. Jungkook tirelessly got up but every movement was accompanied by searing pain.

“Oh my gosh, you are awake! What the shit happened? They said you started the fight but I’m asking the club to give us the cctv footage”, Hoseok said as he ran towards Jungkook who tried to get off the bed.

“Where are they?”, Jungkook asked.

“Those bastards who beat you up? They are at the police station, duh. None of them needed to come to the hospital because you freaking didn’t manage to hit anyone. I honestly thought you were better at this man”, Hoseok just being Hoseok.

“Hi Mr Jeon, when you are discharged, we will require your attendance at the station. For now, we will just ask you a few questions here”, one of the policemen said.

“I can go with you now”, Jungkook solemnly replied.

“Woah woah, I don’t think so, can you just lie back down please”, Hoseok raised both hands looking like he wanted to push Jungkook right back onto the hospital bed.

“I’m fine, let’s go.”

---

As Jungkook entered the police station, the gang of his attackers grew noisier trying to claim that they only hit Jungkook because he provoked them and they were already intoxicated.

“But you see, this boy here is injured badly and none of you are injured at all! If no one is going to apologise to him and if he isn’t willing to settle this matter, we will have to charge all of you for assault!”, yelled a policeman at the squabbling men while slamming the desk with a stack of paper.

“Yeah! Do you know who he is, you better watch out for his lawyers coming after all of you! You won’t have a shit left to say after they are done with you!”, Hoseok chimed in by shouting much to the annoyance of the police officer.

They kept their traps shut finally, deliberating their options.

“I provoked them. Let’s settle this. I will apologise”, Jungkook suddenly said soberly as he sat in one of the swiveling chairs propping his head up with one finger, trying not to touch any of the bruises on his face.

Hoseok was wrong, Jungkook changed. It was no longer about how much he could hurt others, it was about how much he wanted them to hurt him.

---

As they left the police station it started to rain, Hoseok sent Jungkook home that night. Jungkook pretended to be asleep in the car and Hoseok was not minded to expose him for that. When they reached the porch of Jungkook’s house, Hoseok took out a package wrapped in kraft paper. The wrapping was crushed, and there was a tiny card hanging from the twine that went around.

“I was contemplating whether to pass it to you… but I guess, you’ll probably want it”, Hoseok mumbled.

Jungkook sat on his bed and glanced at the card unwillingly, “Happy birthday, you didn’t choose anything from the store so I picked one for you. Y/N”. Carefully opening the package, it revealed that album he saw you pick out the other day. He looked around his room and there wasn’t even a CD player. There was one downstairs though, but he hated the entirety of downstairs.

So, he walked out into the rain, across the garden to the driveway where the cars were parked. He unlocked one with the key he grabbed near the door and got in. His hair and clothes were almost drenched, the rain continued to fall rather silently on the windshield. He put the CD into the player and just sat there.

♫ “Do you feel the pain?

This pain I felt through you.

As if I always knew,

the words

I never say to you...

somehow.

These words that remain nothing.” ♫

The rain drops from his hair fell onto his face, slightly stinging the lacerations he got from earlier.

---

You were sure your eyes were still puffy as you were walking to school despite the crying happening two nights ago.

Mirae had probed into what happened when both of you were in the taxi but you told her it was nothing and that you wanted to leave the party because you were feeling unwell, again. Maybe you were just physically programmed not to enjoy such boisterous events. You didn’t want to worry your friends over nothing, and you also didn’t want Namjoon to find out about any of this, just to avoid having him tell you off for letting yourself be played by Jungkook.

Nevertheless, the truth of it was that Jungkook had succeeded in what he set out to do. You were hurt, more than you ever imagined you would be by him. You definitely knew that you were not going to devolve into one of his playthings. So, what did you want? What were you trying to do?

As you approached the school gates, dragging your feet inattentively, your path was cut off by someone. His dark blue denim jacket swaying almost hitting your forehead, you could smell his recognisable scent. You looked up to see his face filled with cuts and bruises.

“Y/N can we just talk for a minute? I’m sorry for… everything. And there are somethings I have to say, although everything is really messed up right now.”

Your face was expressionless at first but broke into the slightest warm smile, “Sure, but first, what happened to you, why are you injured so badly?”, you were almost cooing at him and your eyes were shimmering vaguely.

You raised up a hand towards one of his bruises. As though he has developed a reflex after all this time, he moves one step backwards to avoid your touch, almost bumping into another student walking by.

“Don’t. It will hurt you.”

“It’s ok...”, you voice chimed gently, “I know you won’t hurt me...”

You reached out your hand further. He was worried yet he was hopeful that you were actually still concerned about him.

“... because I won’t give you another chance to. So save it, whatever you want to say, I don’t want to hear it”, you sapped out all emotion from your voice without altering your tone a notch, and you lowered your hand away from his face.

“Why?”, your speech sharply took a mockingly sinister turn as you observed his expression change, “are you the only one allowed to play around with someone’s feelings?”

When your words fell, his eyes looked like it held an entire universe that had burnt out within it – the look of pained decimation and regrettable death.

You had changed too; you were able to feel the pain without even touching him now, you felt it just by looking at him now. There was no telling whether the pain stemmed from him or from within yourself.

---

They say people change, either because they learnt a lot or because they have been hurt too many times. For Jungkook and you, which was which?

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kougarisa · 4 years

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I feel like I can now post the first chapter of my Remake Fic. qwq Many years ago, I originally intended it as a slow burn fic, but I decided that in the current situation, the remake would be more of a summary of past events, and I would try to condense it into 6-7-8 chapters if I can. oo” Maybe there will be pretty long chapters. ^^” I made bigger changes compared to the original, but the point remained.~ (In the future there will be a second story after the events of the Final Act)

- Inuyasha Universe

- Self insert / selfship

The story comprehensively focuses on the relationship between Kouga and Arisa (OC) at the past, the encounters, how it was possible to find each other with several little help.

I do my best to translate to english as correct as I can. >

I’m not going to give the writing a title this time, I’d rather start with a quote. It fits them very well.. quq

Pleasant journey! ^^

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"You were kinda cold like snow when we first met, but after awhile you grow warm like the sun."

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

She had been traveling with them for a few weeks. She arrived at a waterfall hidden at the end of a cave, guarded by a soul of a once powerful wolf demon and its remains. It endowed the girl with half-demon power to protect the Sacred Jewel, to help her new comrades. Because she was originally born mortal, not even the spirit could give her full demon power. There was a slight change in the appearance of her because of the power her got. Over his head, above his brownish blondes, a pair of ears rose, as did the grumpy breed known as Inuyasha. She grew stronger, her stamina surpassing the limits of her human body.

"Your heart is like that of wolves. Let the spirit of our ancestors and the strength of our warriors lead your way."

The words of the demon echoed in her head.

Fortunately, she has acquired a weapon since, a sword forged by a certain Toutousai master to her so that she can defend herself and not stand empty-handed in the fights those will face her. It didn’t hurt to be careful, as they had no idea what abilities the wolf demon gave to her and when they would revive in her. Still, she felt awkward compared to the others. She had never wield a sword before, in fact ... Even with her bare hands, she only rush at the chosen ones in one or two exceptional cases, when her anger prevailed over her, even though she would have done it several times in her heart, a few people would deserved it over the 18 years of her life. If she was hurt or her self-confidence was manhandled, she easily fell into herself, and at the same time her tears quickly started to wash her face. How could she benefit the team?

She was grateful for their kindness. In what they knew helped her. They told her to where, at what era and events she had fallen, what mission they were in. Arisa was afraid in deep inside, but she was reassured by their closeness. Inuyasha tried to train her over time on how to handle the sword, the others taught her everything else.

Along the way, an orphaned wolf cub joined to the girl. He lost his father, the last member of his family in a battle against an evil demon. By the time they got to the scene of the duel, Arisa could no longer help with her healing ability, which had shown during their adventures. The little ones fur coat was deep brown, almost black, with his golden brown eyes watched every move of his new pack-member and followed in her footsteps. Arisa called him Shadow.

They headed northeast, in the direction of the constellations Taurus and Tiger. Kagome talked to Arisa in a good mood, pushing her bike beside her. They came from the same world — although from other countries — they had much in common. The magic of the spirit guard at the waterfall also helped the now half-demon girl to communicate in Kagome’s language so they could understand each other.

From a distance, all of a sudden they all saw a whirlwind approaching, which was familiar to most.

"Keh ... This damn wolf again ..." Inuyasha growled. “Whatever. It’s nice to volunteer to run in front of me so I can cut him off!” He swung the Tetsusaiga to the side from its scabbard.

Before he could strike down, and before Kagome could say a word, that certain one, the boy's face had a painful encounter with the ground. From above, a furry, armored figure with sole of the foot came to the top of Inuyasha's head and gave the starting push. He bounced off it, entrusting the rest to the gravity, then landed behind his back.

"Don't play with such a dangerous toy, mutt, you could cut yourself."

“Bastard …”

Arisa blinked at the scene, what almost familiar to the others. There have been examples of this before.

“Kouga.”

The addressed immediately looked to Kagome.

“Maybe is there trouble? Did something happen?”

The boy walked over to her, sensing from the corner of his eye that someone was standing next to the girl, then stepping away from them as he got closer. She was unfamiliar to him, he hadn't smelled her scent near Kagome and his team before. Acknowledging his perception to himself, the next moment he devoted his full attention to the ebony-haired girl, whose one hand he lifted off the bike and grabbed by two of his palms.

“It's okay, my dear. I just smelled your scent and wanted to see if you were alright.”

Kagome reassured Kouga with a confused smile that he had nothing to worry about. This was not the first time the boy had approached her for a similar reason, or say, an excuse(?).

Characteristic face, bronze brown skin, proportionately muscular silhouette, and pleasantly metallic voice. It was only through his presence and radiance that he attracted attention.

In the mirror of a pair of green eyes, several kinds of feelings swirled. Surprise, touched by the gesture she had just seen, and a little envy. When she realized she was staring, Arisa caught his eye in embarrassment. She tried to look in a different direction, but the event that had just taken place in front of her and the sight from time to time lured her back in the direction of the "couple." But she was confused by what she heard. Isn't it that Inuyasha and Kagome ...?

As soon as she saw Shadow fumbling in front of Kouga, sniffing his legs and then his mid-legs curiously, she startled out of her thoughts.

“Hm? ... Where did you come from?”

She looked at them, holding her breath, but there was no cause for concern. Kouga was surprised at first, then got on his knee with a gentler smile and stroked the cub’s head.

“What is it, little man? Can you smell my shards?

She would have calmed down but she heard her name leave Kagome's lips.

“He's Shadow. He belongs to Arisa.” She looked at her new friend.

Her gaze followed by the boy’s. Kouga then took a closer look at the other girl.

She was in a strange outfit. Her body language revealed "Don't even listen to me." Arisa smiled in embarrassment and wondered what she could say.

“That's true.”

With her head tilted aside, her wolf-ears also betrayed her mood, shrugging slightly downward.

The boy's eyes caught on the ears. She smelled like a wolf, but he wasn't sure in it. He slowly straightened up.

“Are you a half-demon too?”

“Something like that.” Arisa smiled again.

“Kougaaa!” It sounded not so far away.

The noble pair usually arrived late compared to their leader. Ginta and Hakkaku slowed with panting, then stopped, leaning on their knees. In their wake, their wolves also hung their tongues. Arisa was unknowingly grateful for the arrival of the two boys dressed like Kouga. She was blocked in embarrassment, unable to maintain a more meaningful conversation anymore, they saved the situation for her.

She looked through their wolves. She had felt a special attachment to these animals since she was a child, which is why she was happy with her abilities “borrowed from them”. Shadow also took her off her feet when he adopted himself with her.

Word followed word.

Kagome enlightened Arisa that the wolf demons are kind of their allies. Then she remembered again to the demon at the waterfall.

"... our warriors ..." Did it mean them?

As the three boys said goodbye and moved away from them, Kagome immediately spotted the faint blush on her staring face, and grew a privy smile under her nose.

The next time when they ran into each other again, Ginta and Hakkaku were defeated by their curiosity. While Kouga was preoccupied with rivalry with Inuyasha and, of course, gaining Kagome's grace, they went there to Arisa with interest. She told them everything where she came from, what things had happened to her here.

“Seriously?! Did an ancient wolf spirit give you demon power?!

“Amazing!”

The two teams met several times during their journey, in which case the small trio, if they could, always talked. The wolves also began to receive the girl in their confidence. Lying and rest next to her, went to her in hopes of get love and caressing, which Arisa was happy to do. Over time, Kouga also noticed the thing. That is, most of all, how well she gets with those two kooky guys, but when he gets close to her, it’s like the blood in her veins freezes. When he spoke to her, she answered him, but when they met, she usually hid in the company of the other two. On one occasion, while talking to Kagome, his companions managed to make the other girl laugh, and her voice startled him. Involuntarily, he turned to the direction of Arisa. It was not conscious. He didn't even notice on himself. Unlikely Kagome.

#self insert #selfship #inuyasha #fanfiction #kouga #arisa #kougarisa

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jvmiecommon · 5 years

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Valentines 4/4

I lie on the quilted duvet, the kind I’ve cocooned myself in at my nanny’s home since I was a child, and watch the iridescent drapes flutter beside the open window. I rub the pillowcase between my thumb and index finger, a technique for self-soothing my mother accidentally taught me through a story once.

The guest house I conscientiously rented for our weekend getaway now pronounces a lacking I ignored in our interactions. The framed love notes seem cheesy, the comfort I expected to feel from the hearth of the fire and the chill of the February air feels empty. I’ve been lying on the single bed in the loft for about a half hour, another quirky aspect of the rental I thought we’d laugh at. Pushing the single mattresses together like a childhood sleepover, making sleeping together feel new again. Instead, I curl up and pick leftover mascara from my lashes and try not to think about the dishes.

We’d only been awake shy of an hour when he brought up the dishes. I think he meant to find solace, expecting me to comfort him in his feeling of defeat over his position on our family. Last week, I started a new job. A good job I’d been longing for since before we had her, one with benefits and interesting clients and environment where I finally felt my age again. Leading up to my first day, I’d ravaged every room in our house with Lysol wipes and strong cleaners, trying to prepare my home for the battle it would face at the mercy my toddler and her father with almost less understanding of what it takes to run a household. On the third day I removed everything from the kitchen cupboards, a task I hadn’t undertaken since before she was born, and spent an entire day rearranging pots and pans with a label maker as if I had nothing better to do with my freedom.

We’d discussed rearranging the kitchen for weeks, him constantly theorizing on ways to make it more convenient without ever actually considering who spent their time cooking there. Then, on a whim of what he believed compromise and what I saw as concession, he decidedly exchanged the items in one cupboard for the next. Beaming with pride at the accomplishment, he was devastated to learn that his “help” had caused more hazard and that I would subsequently take on the kitchen as a whole the following week. He was shocked at my lack of gratitude, my blank stare as I explained that cleaning spaces and moving things were different tasks, that the baskets got stuck in the smaller drawers and that doing things without foresight and intention was worse then doing nothing at all. He shrunk quietly into himself, writing narratives in his head about how unreachable my expectations were and how impossibly irrational I must be. I tried to tell myself I was not parenting my partner, that I had not become my mother, that this man did not tell others he lived in fear of my wrath - yet was never fearful enough to listen.

I can still hear him downstairs, the breakfast I left on the coffee table likely sitting chilled while he rattles his own dishes full of warm eggs and cooked greens, a recipe I carefully planned knowing his dislike for carbs in the morning. I cannot quite discern the difference between the fire crackling and the dishes, but I know that he’s not stewing as I am, and this makes me sink even deeper into the mattress. I begin to regret running upstairs in tears, making my point seem melodramatic and less important. I also regret leaving my book on the table, my laptop on the island. I stare in the mirror propped against the far wall and wonder how long I’ll choose to be angry for. Retreating was a statement, returning would be a concession; and after four years of acceptance, of alcoholism and poor judgement and mismanagement and absolute disrespect; I wonder if I’ll ever go downstairs again.

After a week at my new job, I returned home to find a week’s worth of dishes in the sink, and a toddler unfed, unwashed, with toys strewn around her like a small city. She, the mayor of tiny humans and tinier things carefully picks up each item, studies its merits, and lobs it towards the floor with a crash so loud I wonder how he never notices the carnage. I search for the dinners I’ve left in the fridge; then chase after the girl I love more than anything in hopes to see fifteen minutes of her before the sleep settles into her eyes. I feed her dinner, him too, then send them up to bed while I clean up the volcano that is her toy basket and load the dishwasher.

I do this begrudgingly…

In part because I’ve awoken an extra hour early all week to set out their lunches and prepare their breakfasts.

In part because I’ve spent two hours walking and on streetcars and on trains to be back here.

In part because I’m giving up those two hours with my daughter only to come home and clean up after them as if I’d been their all day anyways.

I say nothing.

The shower turns on downstairs, and I slyly sneak down to find my laptop and the book I bought weeks ago in a small bookstore I’ve always known about and rarely been to. I sit on the bed and read, and pace, and listen to the hum of water running. I picture asking him to leave, to let this vacation become personal solace yet remember I’d have no way home. I picture leaving myself, but remember the three hundred dollars I charged to an already exceedingly high credit card in order to give us some time to find ourselves again. To feel good alone again, to not spend a retrospectively cheesy valentine’s day weekend fighting over the dishes again.

As I arrive home the next night to an unfed, unwashed toddler, he bulges his eyes and turns his back not before holding his finger up to tell me “one minute” as I ask if anyone has eaten yet. I go to warm the chicken fingers I told myself I would never buy my child and as I open the cupboard, I realize that all the dishes I’d meticulously organized have been piled so high into one cupboard they’re awaiting their place as confetti on the floor. I squeeze my eyes shut and fight every nerve that tells me to rip the dishes from the shelf and cause the catastrophe he’s asking for. I explained this. I cleaned and organized, rearranged and explained. I did all of this so that he wouldn’t be so overwhelmed with the responsibility of waking and feeding his child. I conceded to his irrational needs for unqualified order and the constant rearranging of a two-hour time block to increase his productivity, or personal mindfulness or whatever other issue he’d decided on that week. I did everything I felt in my power to help him find the dishes and keep them clean, and instead, they’ll smash to the floor on a whim of broken rage.

He blames the dishes on his unwillingness to cook.

To clean.

To contribute.

He blames my need for order, not his, for his devastation, blames my expectations for his defeat and distain. He tells me I should’ve been more grateful for his initial efforts, and that an apology should be enough. Even now, I feel crazy for being so angry. For the contractions in my stomach and the stinging in my eyes and the batshit anger bordering on absolutely losing my mind over bowls and plates. I remember a self help book about women who snap and consider what would happen if I went to jail for killing the man who couldn’t remember how to put away the dishes correctly, picturing the headlines as I go.

I stare at the broken cabinet doors and the spray painted chandelier and the brick wall that looked original in the photos but fake up close and realize that two days of quiet wouldn’t have made it better, even if I hadn’t stormed upstairs in a fury over the dishes two weeks and twenty minutes away. We will go home, and they will still be there. In fact, I’ll move them to their rightful home and the next time I open the cupboard, they’ll be gone again. They’ll have moved and he will say sorry and roll his eyes and we’ll fight again on our next vacation I plan praying our relationship will find it’s way again. The dishes will move but I’ll still be here, no matter how many times I try to leave and find my place. I’ll always end up back where he puts me.

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dani-ellie03 · 7 years

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Fic: Wednesday’s Child (16/?)

Title: Wednesday’s Child Summary: The next time Emma Swan wanted magical help, she was on her own. Because now they were stuck with a pint-sized savior who clearly had an attitude problem and a terrified but pretending not to be pre-pirate. Spoilers: If you’re current, we’re good. Rating/Warning: PG-13, mostly for safety. Family angst/fluff, as per usual. Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddy Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I’m just borrowing them but I’ll put them back when I’m finished! Author's Note: Here's some Snow-and-tiny-Killian time, just because. Also a little heads-up that next chapter might be delayed a bit because of NJCon this weekend. :)

—–

{1} {2} {3} {4} {5} {6} {7} {8} {9} {10} {11} {12} {13} {14} {15}

At ff.net and below.

Tagging @shealivedarnit (If anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know!)

—–

For a peaceful and calm forty-five minutes, Snow and Charming sat with their babies. Little Neal, full of the energy that only small children had, bounced from activity to activity at their feet. Mega Blocks gave way to his shape sorter, which in turn gave way to stacking rings. Only when he became bored with pushing his toy tractor around the hardwood floor did he circle back to the Mega Blocks.

"Do you mind if I leave for a few minutes and check on the animals?" Charming eventually asked, breaking the comfortable silence between him and his wife.

After a glance down at Neal and then over to the blanket fort where Emma and Killian were still sleeping, Snow shook her head. "Go make sure everyone weathered the storm all right," she said with a tender smile. "We'll be fine here for a few minutes."

Charming shot her a grateful smile as he rose from the chair. He crouched down to ruffle Neal's soft hair before straightening and giving Snow a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll be right back," he murmured as she closed her eyes against the kiss.

At Snow's nod, Charming crept over to the blanket fort and snapped his fingers to capture Wilby's attention. Understanding his master's silent command, the dog gave a sleeping Emma's cheek a swift lick, pushed himself to his feet, and tottered out of the fort.

Snow was left on her own with the children and her thoughts. The earlier conversation with Charming still weighed heavily on her mind. The ache in her chest at the thought of what her little girl and Killian had been through already in their young lives was so great that she swore it might drown her.

The pain in their eyes was too much for her. The uncertainty, the reluctance, the sheer distrust. They were the eyes of children who'd experienced far too much far too young. She wanted nothing more than to whisk all that pain away from them, to make it so they'd never experienced it at all.

Losing her mother at such a young age had been soul-crushing for Snow. She'd been a little girl whose mother had missed her milestones and had missed watching her grow from girl to young adult. There were so many nights she longed for her mother, so many lonely nights when all she'd wanted was to curl up in her mother's arms and feel safe and secure. It gutted her to think of all the nights Emma and Killian had done the same, all the endless nights spent longing for their parents.

The poor children had suffered so much. They deserved love, deserved to know how it felt to be cherished. They deserved to feel safe and secure and comforted, deserved to know that someone was always there for them, for anything they needed.

And Snow vowed to show them exactly that for as long as they were in her charge.

A quiet but insistent banging drew Snow from her morose reverie. While she'd been daydreaming, little Neal had decided to happily bang the Mega Blocks in his hands against the hardwood floor. "Oh, shh," Snow murmured as she held her hands over her son's to halt them in place. "No banging. You're going to wake your sister and brother-in-law!"

And scuff the floor, but really, waking the children from their nap was Snow's bigger concern at the moment.

Almost guiltily, Snow darted her gaze over to the fort. At first it didn't seem as if the noise had disturbed them but barely a second later, Killian shifted restlessly under the blanket. He whimpered softly and tried to turn over only to discover Emma lying back-to-back with him. The collision startled poor Killian awake while Emma simply let out a soft grunt, rolled onto her stomach, and went still.

Snow stifled a chuckle at the poor boy's rude awakening as a disoriented Killian sat up and rubbed his eyes. His bleary gaze traveled around the blanket fort before landing on Emma, who breathed a soft sigh as she settled back into sleep. Smiling gently, he cautiously climbed over Emma's legs and ducked out of the fort.

"Well hello, sleepyhead," Snow gently teased the boy as he padded over to her.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," he said almost apologetically before plopping down in the armchair Charming had vacated.

"Oh, Killian, it's perfectly all right. You and Emma were both tired and you must have been really comfortable listening to Henry read. Honestly, I would have been more surprised if you didn't fall asleep."

That got him to smile. Sensing he needed a little time to fully wake up, Snow let the conversation trail off. Instead, she did a quick visual check of her other babies. At her feet, Neal was still happily playing with his Mega Blocks – without hammering them against the floor, thank goodness – and in the fort, Emma was beginning to stir.

"Mary Margaret, may I ask you a question?"

The soft query drew her attention back to Killian, who was regarding her with a tentative uncertainty that made Snow's chest ache. "Of course, honey."

"Are you and David and Regina really from the Enchanted Forest?"

Of all the questions Snow thought Killian might ask, that one was nowhere on the list. She must have looked as surprised as she felt because he added, "David told me yesterday."

The hopeful expression on the boy's face told Snow exactly why her husband had confided that they were from the Enchanted Forest. The knowledge that the new adults in his life were from the same place he was made him feel a little more at home in this new, unfamiliar world.

A glance over at the fort proved that Emma was fighting waking up with all she had. Secure in the knowledge that Emma wouldn't overhear her, Snow replied, "Yes, we are."

"How did you get here?"

"We were sent here by a curse. It's broken now, though, so I don't want you to worry about it, all right?"

Killian nodded, letting out a relieved breath. "If it's broken, how come you didn't go back? Don't you miss the Enchanted Forest?"

"Sometimes," Snow admitted. "I miss the fresh air and the quiet. Sometimes this world can be very noisy." At that, Killian nodded in agreement. "That said, this world is my home now. My family and friends and all the people I love are here. One lesson the Curse taught me is that home isn't necessarily a physical place. It's wherever you can be with the people you love."

Again, Killian nodded, though this time it seemed as if he were mulling over her words. The concept of home seemed unfamiliar to him and frankly, it probably was. Even if he'd thought he knew what home was, his own conception of it would have shattered the morning he awoke to find his father gone.

"May I ask you another question?" a suddenly subdued Killian asked.

The boy's change in demeanor instantly worried Snow. "Absolutely," she said, trying not to make her concern apparent in her tone. The last thing she wanted was to make the boy uncomfortable.

"If I wanted this world to be my home, could we try to bring Liam here? And if Liam comes, could we still stay here with you?"

The tears welled in Snow's eyes without warning. This little boy, this lonely, frightened little boy had found somewhere he wanted to belong. As tenuous a concept as it was for him, he'd found home and he'd found it with her family. Sniffing back her tears, Snow pushed herself up from her chair, crouched down in front of Killian's, and took his hands in hers. The reassurance she wanted – no, needed – to give him was worth the implied white lie regarding Liam. "Of course you could still stay here with us. We would be honored to have both of you join our family."

It was the absolute truth. Welcoming Killian Jones, in any incarnation, into her family was her pleasure. Killian loved Emma, protected her, supported her, helped her find her way home. He'd protected the entire family, he'd sacrificed himself for them, and they'd willingly followed Emma on her march to the Underworld to rescue him.

Not that this little boy knew any of that. All he knew was that he felt loved here. He felt safe and secure and comforted and loved.

Killian sat motionless for a beat before throwing his arms around Snow in a tight hug. "Oh, Killian," she murmured into the boy's ear, "you're safe now."

He tightened his grip and in response, Snow tightened hers. This poor little boy had clearly longed for this kind of comfort, had ached for it, and now that someone was giving it to him, he didn't want to let it go.

After a long moment, Killian pulled away and sniffed back some stray tears. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Snow smiled, blinking back her own tears as she cupped Killian's little cheek in her palm.

The tender moment was broken when little Neal once again smacked the Mega Blocks against the hardwood floor, startling both Killian and Snow. Mother-in-law and tiny son-in-law shared a sheepish chuckle as Snow reached down and took the blocks out of her son's hands. "No banging," she chided before tucking the confiscated blocks back in the storage bag.

Neal huffed at her and abandoned the rest of the blocks for his stacking rings, giving Snow a sudden flash of the tantrums that surely awaited her once her baby boy hit his terrible twos.

That last bang must have also pushed Emma into full consciousness because no more than a second or two later, just long enough for Killian to settle on the floor with Neal and Snow to sit back down in the armchair, Emma emerged from the blanket fort yawning. Her blonde waves had tangled during her nap and Snow's heart practically seized in her chest at the domesticity of the moment.

"I guess I needed a nap," Emma mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep, as she plopped down on the floor at Snow's feet.

A breath caught in Snow's throat. Here was her sleepy little girl, leaning back against her legs as it if were the most natural thing in the world. Underneath Snow's wonder and joy, however, was a tinge of concern. The fact that a still somewhat hesitant Emma had settled in Snow's personal space couldn't be ignored. On some level, maybe one Emma didn't even realize herself, she was seeking comfort.

An instinct that Snow didn't quite understand made her lean forward and run her fingers through Emma's hair. The small amount of tension in the girl's shoulders relaxed in response to the tender touch and Snow smiled, pleased that her instinct had been correct.

"I just woke up a few minutes ago, too," Killian assured her.

"And Neal and I have been right here the whole time," Snow added. "David and Wilby were here most of the time, too. They just went to check on the animals a few minutes ago now that the storm's over."

Emma graced them both with a shy smile, clearly surprised and grateful that she hadn't been left alone while she slept.

After a minute or two of fiddling with the Mega Blocks, Emma decided to build a rudimentary staircase by taking a few square blocks and stacking each one half on top of the other. Killian observed her for a moment before constructing a staircase of his own. And now that Neal had playmates, he once again shifted focus back to the blocks and started making his specialty: a tower.

The sound of the screen door banging in the kitchen announced Charming's return from the back yard. A smile lit his face as soon as he and Wilby entered the living room to find the children awake. Dog and master each reclaimed their previous spots, Wilby at Emma's side and Charming in the armchair across from Snow. "I see our sleeping beauties are up," Charming teased, causing the children to blush. "Did you both have a good nap?"

"Yeah," Emma replied somewhat shyly while Killian nodded his agreement. "Are the animals okay?"

"All present and accounted for. The sheep are a little muddy, mostly because Linden likes splashing in puddles."

Both Emma and Killian let out soft giggles at the mental image of a sheep intentionally stomping in puddles like a little kid.

A creak on the staircase captured Snow's attention. She tore her gaze from the children to find Henry bounding down the stairs to rejoin the family now that everyone was awake. "I thought I heard voices," he said, grinning at his little mom and stepfather before joining them on the floor with Neal.

Snow looked up to meet Charming's smiling eye. Oh, how they wished they could make this moment with the children simply playing together last forever.

Eventually, Emma set her staircase upright against the storage bag, slung an arm across Wilby's back, and glanced up at each of her parents in turn. "What are we going to do now?"

Snow exchanged a glance with Charming, who nodded at her. It was officially time to see if their plan for the afternoon would work for everyone. "David and I were talking about that while you were napping. You asked yesterday if we could make pasta from scratch. How would you two like another cooking lesson?"

Emma's eyes lit up but Killian looked a little perplexed. "Is pasta what we had for dinner yesterday?"

"Yes indeed," Charming confirmed. "Last night, we had pasta we bought from the store but we can make it ourselves, too. It tastes a little different when it's homemade. Truthfully, I like it much better that way. So what do you all say? Do you mind having spaghetti for dinner again?"

"Nope!" Emma exclaimed, grinning. Not that there had been any doubt.

"Sounds good to me," Killian agreed with a smile. Not that there had been any doubt with him, either.

"I'm game," Henry shrugged, partly because he was indeed a fourteen-year-old boy who just wanted food but mostly because Emma was so excited.

"All right," Snow said, clapping her hands together as she stood up to capture everyone's attention. "All children into the kitchen."

"Yep, definitely a teacher," Emma murmured under her breath, making both Snow and Charming bite back smiles

-----

Chapter Seventeen

#ouat ff #charming family ff #cs ff #cs fic #mama snow #killian jones #emma swan #daddy charming #henry mills #my fic

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fawnthroated · 7 years

Text

Fic Excerpt

This is from an AU I’m working on, it’s basically trans-snape fluff and childhood things. Child Snape is super great to write, and so is child Lily, and hell, child Petunia. I hope you like it!!

— Her floors did not have nails that stuck out. The walls in her mother’s kitchen were smooth and white, as if they had been sculpted out of milk, the panes of glass were iron-framed panels of sugar. Cake cabinets topped with granite slabs, frosted inside of themselves. Each morsel nail had been painted over with a thick, baby’s breath glaze. His shoe prints dusted the boards like cocoa powder.

— Little by little, they thought they taught him safety. They told themselves deep down it was true, that they imbued their tiny half-charge with a sense of comfort and love; their daughter a ball of sunlight and cinnamon, and her strange little friend, a cicada’s shell of a girl dressed in soot and sweat and her father’s old clothes.

— Running his bare toes over the little stubs of properly hammered nails, while her mother cooked and her sister shot him confused glares, he couldn’t find it in him to tell them, stop calling me girl.

— They always sent him home with their daughters’ old dresses. He hid them in the hollow of the willow tree that grew beside the pond between their houses. When she was busy, or tired, or sick, and she couldn’t be there, he would still go to the pond and slip below the amber water. As the rotting leaves swirled around his hips, his shoulders and cheeks, and little silver fish the same size and shape danced over his fingers, he thought about the lies he told them. His parents threw away the dresses— they didn’t. He was grateful but sorry— but not about the dresses, kiddie makeup, or misplaced advice. He didn’t like it when Lily’s mother told him about the babies she just knew he was going to carry inside him. He didn’t understand Teen Vogue or Seventeen, he told them it was because he was nine; any concession no matter how tiny would shake him— so instead of thinking about her mother’s red lipstick and how nice it looked against his ashy, brownish skin, he thought about building muscle and sharp little hairs poking out of his chin.

— Lying on his back in the tall grass just beyond the water was about the only time he touched the dresses; they were lace and silky cotton, and made excellent blankets. The ones at the bottom of the wooden pocket had gone greenish and sticky with mildew, and had begun to rot together into their own clump. He left them be and took from the top, splaying the dry, wadded fabric out flat on the ground and curling up on top of it— if there were mosquitoes or other flying grievances, he would throw another dress over himself. As he lay and dried he thought of the lies he told his friend. Not her family, her. Her lies were special; the things she asked about were of another, smaller world. What he knew was the clipped, factual agenda his mother had been taught by her adoptees; her knowledge of British magic read like a farmer’s almanac. When Lily begged, he would spout out the paper cut sentences he’d been told before he slept. His mother held them reverently, but she couldn't capture the blue-blood delight of her second mother, and the words left both her and her child like grains of dull glass.

— The wind rustled the meadow-pattered cloth he lay on. Their-prison-is-guarded-by-creatures-who-eat-happiness-they-are-called-dementors. His eyes fluttered behind the lids, thinking intensely of the sugar flower pattern on the cotton. The-two-epicenters-of-our-culture-are-London-and-the-school’s-campus. If he concentrated deeply enough, he could hear the bellows of factory men beneath the lull of birds. When-we-turn-eleven-we-will-go-to-the-school-and-we-stay-there-until-we-are-eighteen-that-is-seven-years. There were also the truths he omitted from her: I-wish-Azkaban-would-take-my-father-but-he-isn’t-eligible.

— When he was done thinking about how much he lied to people that liked him versus the people that didn’t, or rather once he was dry enough to dress and walk home, he folded up the dresses and stuffed them back into the tree. Sometimes he just went home, through the back gate, and crawled up the side of his house and phased quietly through his bedroom window (sometimes this didn’t quite work; he was then left pulling thick, dusty shards out of his legs and stomach, and willing the glass whole again.) Other times, he would continue east and knock on her front door, the color of whipped honey, and ask if she was available.

— And they would say— her mother looking up from her documents or her frying pan, her father pushing his hair back with one hand, a smear of butter in his beard from helping Ms. Evans cook— I’m-sorry-Severine-but-Lily-is-still-down-with-a-cold, or Hello-Severine-sorry-but-Lily’s-really-got-to-finish-her-essay, or even Lily-was-up-all-night-reading-and-she’s-very-tired-but-would-you-like-to-come-in-for-a-cookie?

— That was okay, he’d stopped getting sick from the smog around Spinner’s End anyway, so if he could do a bunch of factory men, he could surely do a few germs. Could he sit with her anyway and tell her about magic? Okay. And he knew he didn’t go to school, but he’d read her book too and was totally willing to help her finish up. Please, the tadpoles were out! He wouldn’t embellish. Okay. Yeah, I’ll tell her to stop reading so late. Yeah, laugh, I promise. Okay.

— Nibbling at a lemon shortbread, he’d clunk upstairs and settle in the chair beside her bed. She’d swat weakly at him, you’ll-get-sick. That’s okay, Lil. I’d rather be here. Besides, it’s cold. Your-dad’s-still-not-getting-better? He couldn’t tell her his dad would never be better. What did she want to know about today?

— Her favorite things he could do were:

Bring the sunset inside for her and pulling it, with a secretive smile, out of his coat’s giant pockets.

Fill her room with opalescent bubbles, flowers, blades of grass, dry leaves, and dancing spheres of water.

Make her books and toys mock-alive.

Floating.

— He could hold onto her ceiling light, and she could get four inches up; sometimes they’d go zooming around the house and startling an increasingly livid Petunia. Something happened with her she thought about but didn’t admit to favor.

“Show-offs,” she’d screamed at them this one time, “you’re bothering me!”

So Severine had grabbed her wrist (without asking!) and hauled her out of her chair. She felt the air buoy around her, this strange wind licked at her hair and clothes, and they three flew around her four-bedroom together. Her mother was fond of the incident. She treated it like a three year old’s memory or a fleeting dream. She also took to calling Severine, sub-cruelly, Peter Pan. She could not have known how much he liked it.

#hp #Harry Potter #Lily Evans #petunia evans #snape #Pro Snape #trans snape #fanfiction #fic #fic snippet #mine #my writing

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noplanwithavan · 7 years

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RIDING DORIS

It was all getting a bit much a month ago, thoughts narrowed towards jacking it all in. Homeschooling was becoming a joyless chore for all concerned, I lit the touch paper on a spiralling communication saga by losing our one and only phone, and then, to top it all off, the camera packed up. But, in the words of the late great David Bowie, we’ve turned to face the strain, and I can now crow about the “ch..ch..cha..changes..”

We’re back in Spain, but are still basking in the warmth of the shadow Morocco cast over us. Under the glare of its hard-baked light, Europe looks somehow different now. The contrasts and privileges we enjoy more sharply illuminated. When we first began this trip it felt like a rugged, adventurous existence. I would get twitchy if water was running low, clothes were unwashed, or the preferred supermarket chain didn’t present itself. Now I can honestly say none of these things are remotely problematic. Because at a fundamental level stuff works, and the consumer will always be fed; choked full with choice.

Perhaps we can thank Dorris for our change in fortunes. After a lifetime of chasing the perfect storm, serendipity finally shone on Marcus. He checked a surf website and found a post advising surfers that the coast of Morocco was the best place in the Atlantic to ride the effects of Storm Dorris. Which is precisely where we’d landed - in the coastal village of Immsouane. There followed an excitable babble - phrases like “longest right hand point break” cropped up. Much of it was unintelligible, but the overall effect was clear to the girls and I. For once, Dad was ahead of the curve.

We spent the best part of a week, enjoying the camaraderie of the van community here and revelling in how laid back the town felt compared to much of Morocco. No-one hassled us, and the only enterprising ploy was a man in a high-vis vest who appeared each morning, ruffled the girls hair, and charged us 50p to camp by the beach. Until this point it had been uncharacteristically cold (-2 degrees overnight in the desert), but the sun was now out in force. We made a conscious decision to lay off on the schooling for a bit, resolving that we’d rather not do it all than face a daily battle. Marcus surfed each day, while the girls and I made the most of the warmth to eat out for breakfast and make picnics to take to the beach.

Continuing South we passed the Argan groves and Banana plantations around Agadir, threading our way through terraced valleys to the “Valley of the Vans” in Tafraoute. Looking back now I miss those days of driving in Morocco. With few fast roads, and even fewer motorways, the whole experience is an assault on the senses. Those ceaseless landscapes the girls have begun reflecting in their drawings. Symmetrical sand dunes and date palm trees with scaly hides. Outside the window it is vast and timeless; life pressing in upon you from every direction. Towns with dirt roads, and buildings that peter out, collapsing under the weight of exertion or the heat. Marcus recalls a quote from the film “Easy Rider”, a chant which he sings each time we stop. “Man is at the win-dow…man is at the win-dow.” For there is always a man at the window. Even if you are utterly remote and can’t possibly conceive how there could be.. there is. I take advantage of the fact that no-one wants to deal with me, craning past my shoulder in search of “the husband”. It’s a blessed relief after France, Spain and Portugal where I did all the talking. “He wants to speak to you,” I helpfully inform my beloved, stepping back in deference as the usual patter begins. He takes it well, but it can grate. Having pulled over at one point, he leans out the van door grappling to find the switch so we can charge the laptop. Lulu is firing questions from the back, Elsie needs a poo, and just then a man appears, on cue, asking Marcus if wants to buy some of his wares. “I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to sort out MY stuff,” I hear him say with an exasperated sigh. “I can’t sort YOU out too!”

The flip side of such attentive ingenuity becomes plain to see when we arrive in Tafraoute. Set in the bowl of a valley is a stunning prehistoric scene, speckled with motorhomes. It’s not quite the young, happening destination we had been led to expect - more a waiting ground for those escaping a European winter. In response to this steady drip feed of well-off pensioners, a whole local industry has sprung up. We pull in and every 5 minutes someone appears at the door offering a service. There is a bread man, a water man, a woman who will wash your clothes, another asking if we’ll come to her house for dinner, a recycling boy, even a spray paint man who will decorate your vehicle with a camel and a desert scene. It gives Marcus an idea and he gets the girls to set up a stall outside our van trying to sell back to the Moroccans. But despite their best efforts, and new found knowledge of bartering, Elsie and Lulu fail to shift any of the “precious crystals”, (aka worthless quartz) they have been hoarding. We strike lucky with a solar panel guy who does a side line in car batteries. Finally a chance to stock up on a spare leisure battery. After all there’s only so much of a lukewarm fridge one can take. For the first time in months the freezer compartment springs to life and we have ice in our G+T. Bliss!

We left Morocco two weeks ago, and in that time we’ve now travelled all the way north to Andorra. From the dry heat to the snowy slopes. We stopped off along the way to meet some friends of Marcus’s in Madrid. As a city break it was a real highlight. Even though the girls were clearly more impressed by Museo Reina Sofia’s glass-fronted lift than the Picasso painting “Guernica” we had so looked forward to showcasing. Parking for free in a carpark in Valdebernardo, just a few hundred metres from the underground, we would spill out of the van each morning and ride the metro into the city centre. It was a trip down memory lane for Marcus, and one we teased him about mercilessly. Seventeen years ago he had lived here for some months with his Spanish girlfriend Marta. The girls were fascinated to learn they would meet her, asking searing questions like, “Did you used to kiss her?” Elsie became so attached to the idea of impressing this former flame, she even insisted on packing and carrying a special bag for the occasion. “My Marta Bag,” she proudly declared, sifting through her Magpie treasures. It was lovely to meet both Marta, her boyfriend Juan, and another artist friend Sean Mackaoui. We were hosted and chaperoned, and it felt good to wander the city, the scruffy unpretentious Rastro market, the spit and sawdust bars where you can get a pick me up of Vermouth. But most of all it was uplifting to be among such welcoming people. You can be a very self-contained unit at times on the road, and such companionship was warmly welcomed.

We swung out East for another “people-stop” soon after - via the hanging houses of Cuenca and on to Xátiva, near Valencia. It was a detour, but “The Osmans” are well worth it. Another family, in a similar position to us, whom we met at the start of our trip, they are now entering unchartered territory. Having ditched the campervan and bought a house. Most people might complain if you descended on them 3 days after moving in, but Laura, Jay, Dolly and Nancy aren’t the type to let that get in the way. I’m struck by how at ease we feel with them, having only met them a few times. It feels like a shared bond, and we’re so excited by this new life they are building. The girls get on famously, starting a swap shop of toys and clothes, while Marcus and I take comfort from their kind advice and support on the whole issue of homeschooling. They’re just a bit more animated than we are. And Jay does a great singalong on the Ukele to make learning more fun. We leave fired up and inspired, and in truth things have been going a lot better.

On the way to the Pyrenees we spent a few nights camping by the thermal crystal clear waters of Montanejos. Lying on your back watching the tear-stained gorge above, pine trees swaying in greeting. Wild swimming in 25 degree water does not come much better than this. And I’m struck by how happy we all are. It is not in those worthy, grand Spanish towns, but here in the wilderness that we find our rhythm. We laugh a lot, share jokes and feel united once again. And none of it, not the need to change a gas bottle, or get wifi, or even the fact that we now have 3 phones but none of them work, gets us down. Because I really think Morocco taught us something - to be happy with what we have, and what we are.

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brokensmileswritings · 7 years

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Chapter 4 Beta read version

It was too much for Apollo to take in. After seeing his boss being hauled away in handcuffs, he wasn’t sure where he stood at this point since his mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. Who would take him on now- a defence attorney who incarcerated his own boss?

Yet, at the same time, here he was being offered an opportunity of a lifetime. Phoenix Wright, now cleared of murder for the third time and his idol, was offering him a job.

Apollo watched the man sitting on the other side of the booth from him, sipping his coffee, the magician girl sitting quietly beside him. It turned out that her name was Trucy and she was Mr Wright’s adopted daughter, having adopted her after the last trial he had taken as a defence attorney.

“Penny for your thoughts, Apollo.” The older man’s concern was touching as the younger looked down at his cup of coffee.

“I… have so many questions… like..” Apollo stopped, flushing beet red. “How did this happen to you? You were a respected attorney with a promising career. How could everyone just… lose faith in you?”

Mr. Wright looked serious for a moment, his fingers toying absentmindedly with the handle of his coffee cup. “It’s a long story, Apollo. “

“I have time. It’s not like I will do anything else now I am unemployed,” Apollo muttered tartly. “How can I trust you, especially after what you just told me?”

As he now knew, when Olga had said in her testimony that Mr Wright had *strangled* Shadi Smith, she was out right lying. Mr. Wright hadn’t strangled him; all he had done was take a locket that was around the victim’s neck.

When Mr. Wright paused to take another sip of coffee, Trucy took that moment to excuse herself, slipping out from the booth and walking toward the front counter. Mr. Wright turned to Apollo after she was lost to sight. “Shadi Smith was Trucy’s biological father.” Mr. Wright’s voice was hard and clipped, taking a large swallow of his coffee. “He had no need for the locket anymore since he is dead and I am Trucy’s legal guardian. That was the reason why I took it.”

Apollo nodded, sighing, still uneasy, taking a shaky sip. He was so confused that he didn’t trust himself to speak and sat in silence until Trucy’s return a few moments later. She took one look at the expression on his face and jumped to her father’s defence, instantly divining the reason behind it.

“Polly, Daddy is a good guy!” she scolded, slipping in to sit beside her father once again and patting the back of his hand. “Sure, he is sneaky but he has a good heart!“ She looked at him, that beaming smile returning to her face. "Come and work for us!”

Trucy’s cheerful voice shattered the cloud of doubt in his mind but something about her seemed… familiar, somehow, but he couldn’t understand why.

“Wait… US? Plural?” Apollo blurted out, his face reddening slightly. “What do you mean? You work too? You’re only 15!” Surely Mr. Wright wouldn’t force his daughter to work… would he? Mr. Wright just chuckled. “The only work she does is just her homework. She uses the office to practice tricks and entertain my clients and a little magic really helps relax anyone nervous about meeting me. As I am sure you found out for yourself.”

Apollo had to agree with that one.

“Besides,” he added, a mischievous glimmer in his eye, “how else would she get her allowance?”

Apollo was beginning to understand that the man he was sitting opposite him was crafty, but a good father to his daughter. He was reminded him so much of Dhurke for a moment that Apollo closed his eyes and rubbed his wrist.

“Polly, did you know that when you are nervous, the muscles in your wrist tighten? “ Trucy inquired, her eyes flickering down to his wrist and then back up again.

“Huh??” Apollo stuttered, looking down at his bracelet in shock

Mr. Wright chuckled. “Trucy is the one that taught me how to look for tics and twitches and it looks like she found yours!” He paused for a moment, taking another sip of his coffee.“ I found out about it when I invited an old friend of mine, Larry, around for a game of cards; Truce couldn’t sleep, so she watched me. When I got drinks for everyone, she informed me of Larry’s rather obvious twitch: He sticks his tongue out when he’s thinking. After that, I sort of knew what to look for.”

Apollo nodded again. Why was talking to this man making him so nervous?

“Mr. Wright…” He stuttered, his face reddening as he struggled to make his foolish mouth work.

“Please, call me Phoenix. You can call me Mr. Wright in a professional setting. For now, we are just having a friendly chat.”

“So… how did you just give up defending the innocent? Surely a mere penalty wasn’t enough to force you into a career change? The Phoenix Wright I read about was one to never give up!”

“True” Phoenix agreed with a soft sigh, “but losing my reputation and every client I had thereafter the said penalty of guilty was certainly enough.”

“Oh.” Apollo didn’t know what to say to that so he wisely kept silent. If Mr.-Phoenix-wishes to speak of it, he’ll tell me so himself…

“ Looks like it’s story time Apollo. “

—————————————————————————

“Leave the bottle, Al,” Phoenix Wright muttered to the bar tender as he downed another glass of grape juice.

Phoenix had hit rock bottom and his last trial had been a disaster. How was he supposed to know that the diary page was fake?

“ Finally, You couldn’t resist, could you Herr Wright?”

“ Resist what? Present solid evidence?”

Damn it. Damn it all. He had been set up. Someone had given him forged evidence… Well to be honest, someone had given that little girl a forged diary page who, in turn, had given it to him. He had no one to blame but himself for being too naive, too trusting. They had even got the forger in to confirm that it had been fake.

His Bar association hearing had been a mere three months ago and the Judge’s words were still etched on his mind like that accursed diary page.

“ Mr Phoenix Wright, do you know why you have been called here?”

“Yes, Sir. I presented forged evidence in a court of law.”“

“Up until now, you have been certainly a maverick in the courtroom, but nothing less than an honest lawyer. “ The Judge’s voice was subdued. “Did you have any previous knowledge that the evidence you presented was fake?”

“No, Sir.”

“Do you know who commissioned the forgery?”

“No, Sir.”

“Until we know more about this offence, we need to punish you for your failure to properly and thoroughly validate the aforementioned evidence. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Honour.” Phoenix’s voice was soft, the fingers of his left hand curling into a fist at his side the only outward sign of his disquiet.

“Despite this being your first offence, we are afraid that this will incur a penalty on your legal record. You will still remain a licensed attorney for now but you are suspended for a month with immediate effect.” The Judge’s voice was sad but cold and implacable. “If you present forged evidence again in court, your punishment will involve your badge being revoked. Permanently. Case dismissed.” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And that was only the beginning.

Despite being a licensed attorney, all potential clients that had come to see him since then were as guilty as sin; he could tell right away thanks to the magatama that each and every one of them were nothing but criminals looking for an acquittal and dismissed them curtly. He didn’t think that the situation could possibly get any worse, that is, until the rumours started.

It seemed like every week there was now a new story circulating about how Phoenix was a has been lawyer with nasty little epithets like Phoenix Wright: the forging attorney and Phoenix Wright had forged the diary page to get his client off scott free. Those were the kinder ones.

No one trusted him and his reputation was in tatters. What good was a lawyer if all your clients were guilty as sin? He couldn’t defend a guilty client in good conscience or even do such a thing since it went against everything his stood for. The Engarde case still haunted his nightmares and, after that fiasco, he swore to never defend a guilty party again.

Phoenix himself was bitterly reminded of the sorts of rumours that had circulated about Edgeworth back when he was the demon prosecutor. And, as he reminded himself, none of those had been true about Edgeworth and these weren’t true of him, either. At least the people that mattered to him - Maya, Edgeworth, Gumshoe, Larry- didn’t believe the nasty scuttlebutt and were sticking by him during his darkest hour; he was truly grateful for their support, especially Edgeworth’s. God, I don’t know what I would do without him… Phoenix shuddered in his arms as Edgeworth held him close, whispering soft words of comfort.

As it stood now, Phoenix was at a loss as to what to do, his heart in turmoil over the circumstances that had led to this happening although he was comforted knowing that Edgeworth was doing all he could to try and find out if the penalty could be revoked.

“It would be possible to revoke the penalty if we prove that you were framed.”

Phoenix had sighed bitterly at that. Why did getting it revoked matter? He wasn’t Manfred Von Karma, for god’s sake! He wasn’t going to kill anyone for a penalty even one that had cost him his reputation. It was his own fault that he trusted the evidence in the first place and this shook his confidence in himself to the core. What if he presented forged evidence again? He would lose his badge and this time permanently.

Phoenix couldn’t risk it and, as much as he hated to do it, his course of action was clear: He would hang up his court suit. For good.

—————————————————————————

After Phoenix had finished his story, Apollo felt sympathy for the former attorney.

“Wow. I never knew.” He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice thoughtful. “ By the sound of it, it looks like you were set up by someone.”

Phoenix’s expression was serious, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’m glad to hear you say that since I’m sure I was set up, too.” His fingers clenched into a fist before relaxing again. “I would love to clear my name and return to the way things were, but it will take a lot of time and investigation.”

“But… how do you know that people will trust me to defend them?” Apollo inquired doubtfully, looking down at his bracelet once again, his expression conflicted.

Phoenix shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure but people trust me for legal advice these days, so why shouldn’t they trust you with a defence request? Besides, I can help find cases for you that can help give you some experience.” He paused a moment, looking him square in the face. “What do you say, Apollo? Do you want to join the Wright and Co Law Office?”

Apollo looked at the hopeful expressions on both Phoenix and Trucy Wright’s faces and he knew he couldn’t disappoint them. I have no idea if I’m really doing the right thing but…

He hesitated only a moment before replying, “OK… count me in. I accept your job offer.”

“YAY!” Trucy cheered with sheer delight and clapped her hands.

“That’s the spirit, Apollo!” Phoenix Wright smiled brightly, clapping the young man on the shoulder. “You’ll fit right in!”

“Welcome to the family, Polly!” Trucy smiled as she squeezed his arm affectionately before turning once again to look at her father.

“Welcome to the Wright and Justice Law Office, Apollo!” Phoenix beamed as he held out his hand.

Wright and Justice, eh? That has quite a nice ring to it. Apollo grinned as he took it, shaking it vigorously. Maybe this is exactly where I’m supposed to be…

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secretofpet · 5 years

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Quick : A Letter to My Dog Rudi on Her 10th Birthday

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Today –

Kristen Seymour

Rudi is slower and grayer — but more loved than ever — on her 10th birthday.

My black Lab mix, Rudi, just turned 10 years old.

I’m not entirely sure how this happened, because I clearly remember bringing home a highly energetic, long-legged puppy whose head looked far too small for her body — and wasn’t that just the other day?

That puppy, who was my second dog, showed me that I was not, in fact, the world’s most natural dog trainer, but had just gotten lucky with a ridiculously trainable and obedient first dog. And that’s not the only thing I’ve learned from Rudi, so, to celebrate her 10th birthday, here are a few words I’d like to share.

Dear Rudi…

I never pictured you as an old dog. I guess I never dared to believe we’d make it to this point. Losing my first dog — your big sister, Yuki — when she was just 7 was a real eye-opener for me, and I learned that I should never take for granted that any of my beloved pets would be around for years to come. After all, she seemed perfectly healthy… until suddenly she wasn’t, and then she was gone. I refused to allow myself to be taken by surprise like that again, so with you, I’ve always tried to appreciate you just as you were at that moment.

But you didn’t always make that easy.

You were a rambunctious pup — and remained that way for four solid years. (Trust me. I counted.) You were stubborn and incredibly strong, and, quite frankly, walks with you were not all that pleasant. But I knew the work would pay off, and although you’re still not the easiest dog to have on the other end of the leash, I look forward to our walks around the neighborhood — especially once we’re a couple of blocks in and you’ve settled down, because even at 10 years old, you’re still a pretty excitable pooch. You definitely taught me a lot about patience during your first few years.

And you know what else you are? Hungry. So hungry — even for a Lab! That insatiable appetite has led to a couple of really scary situations, but topping the list has to be your first trip to the emergency vet and spending a week in the intensive care unit with acute renal failure. You stole every heart in that hospital with your snuggly nature and beautiful brown eyes. I spent that week alternating between lying on the floor of the veterinary hospital with you watching you sleep and crying tears into your fur and steeling myself for the very real possibility that you’d never come home.

But you did, and the experience taught me that life will slow down for you if you just let it. Now, I try not to let a day go by without getting down on the floor for a snuggle session with you and your sister, Hollie, even if it’s just for a few minutes. My productivity hasn’t suffered for it, but my quality of life has definitely increased. It was a hard lesson to learn, but I’m so grateful you were able to teach it to me.

After all your body had been through, I was told to be prepared that you could enter chronic renal failure as you aged, so as relieved as I was to have you back, I remained prepared for bad news year after year and never allowed myself to imagine what you’d look like with a gray muzzle. You developed a few other health problems, like idiopathic seizures and osteoarthritis, but, happily, your kidney function stayed strong. As you entered middle age and sprouted more gray hairs, I allowed myself a sliver of hope that I’d see you into your golden years, but a big part of me still held back. Through that time, I learned more and more about being present, appreciating each moment we shared together.

Kristen Seymour

Even now, Rudi is rarely found without a toy.

The years went by. You became very good at going into your crate whenever I got ready to leave the house, which has been most helpful because, man, if you were a hungry pup before, your seizure medications have only exacerbated it. If you’re left unattended, no box, book or food-related item is safe from your jaws. (I suppose it’s worth noting that this has taught me to be diligent about putting everything away in its rightful place — a lesson my mother tried to instill in me for 18 years. Wow, Rudi — you’re good!)

And now, you are 10 years old. Officially a geriatric canine. We do all of the “old lady” tests at the vet, and you have your own pill organizer so we can ensure you get all the medications and supplements you need each morning and night. Sometimes you leak a little in your sleep, and while I find your snoring to be soothing and melodious, it has been known to wake a sleeping human.

But you still greet me at the door with your favorite toy in your mouth, just like you did as a puppy. When you get a little spurt of energy and come running around the corner of the yard, it’s easy for me to recall the way you bounded from one end of the dog park to the other.

Then you come closer, and the gray muzzle and white eyebrows come into focus and I’m reminded that you’re not a puppy anymore. That’s okay, though — you’ll always be my puppy, and I’ll do my best to make you feel like one today, tomorrow and for as long as I have the priviledge of caring for you. Because, as my colleague Amy Sinatra Ayres so eloquently said in a love letter to her 14-year-old dog, Grizzly, I’m just so happy you’re still here.