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#i fixed that them sent it then realized i had still made another typo
crimeboys · 4 months
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wrote inner peace and accidentally spelled it inniter peace at first
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americasmarauders · 3 years
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What about ....
“i’m not worthy of anybody’s love.” “that’s not true, you’re worthy of mine.” followed by the lover breaking eye-contact… + a love confession
Followed with tentative kisses in the dark
With Jason Todd x reader ❤❤❤❤❤
Lots of love xoxo
did this get completly out of hand? yes, yes it did. It was supposed to be short and sweet, but suddenly I had 12 pages of angst ready to make their way into the world. 
I’m so sorry it took so long, elle, life got in my way, but now you have like, 6k+ words to make up for it. I really hope you like it.
warnings: completly unedited, sorry for the typos :))
words: 6,856
masterlist #
#
Aged 14, sometime in September.
Mason Anderson was the biggest dick she had ever met. He was petty and jealous and he picked on her just because. She just wanted peace, quietly resolving  the homework she had spent an entire week working on. The library was empty, safe for a couple of other students when he barged in and robbed her of her papers. 
He claimed he needed it more than her, he was the one almost flunking out of the class. She demanded her homework back, but he ran towards the boy’s bathroom with her work. It wasn’t the first time that sullen feeling of despair had been planted on her by Mason Anderson, it still didn’t make it any easier. 
She sat in front of the boys bathroom, hugging her knees in an attempt to find comfort. She kept thinking that she could do it again, she had done it once, theoretically it would be faster to do it a second time. Light footsteps echoed through the hall, her eyes found their way to the source of the noise. 
Jason Todd was a tiny kid with a big brain and an even bigger heart. He had helped her with English more times than she cared to admit. Sometimes she would see him walking towards the alley near the Academy, holding an extra package of chips to the little kid that stayed there sometimes. She liked Jason Todd, considering him the only alley she had inside the cold walls of the Gotham Academy. 
“What’re you doing here?” he asked, delicately, sitting beside her. “I thought you were gonna finish Statam’s paper today.”
“Mason Anderson stole it,” her eyes were cast downwards, looking at the seams of the floor with an almost inhuman interest. “He wanted to copy it, and I wouldn’t let him so he decided to flush down the toilet instead.”
“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, sitting next to her on the floor. 
“It’s okay,” she shook her head, stretching her legs in front of her. “I just,” she sighed, trying to find the words, “I spent one week working on that, and I really needed the grade, you know? But he just didn’t care, he just thought of himself.”
Jason looked at her, softly. His eyes held a certain fire behind them, something she could never really describe what it was. It was entrancing, it calmed the pace of her heart.  He didn’t say anything before getting up and marching towards the boys bathroom. 
She didn’t hear anything going on inside, her mind imagining all sorts of scenarios where Jason would emerge from the bathroom beaten and defeated, Mason walking out completely victorious, with a shiny top grade Literature paper in hand. Her blood boiled at the image, more so than it did before. She got up from the ground, determined to help Jason win the fight, even if her papers were already down the plumbing. 
But the door flung open, her friend walking out calmly, clutching her homework delicately. He offered her a smile, and as the door closed behind Jason she could see Mason on the ground gripping his nose in pain. 
“Here,” the papers were completely dry to the touch, her confusion deepening. “He was copyin’ it.”
“I can’t believe you got this back,” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. “I thought… I thought I'd have to redo it.”
“Nah,” he smiled shyly, “I would’ve helped ya.”
“I can’t really depend on you for everything, Jason,” she replied politely. “It’s not fair.”
“I got your back,” he affirmed, “ya don’t need to worry.”
And it meant the world to her that he did. 
#
#
Aged 16, October 12th. 
Jason Todd and her became friends after the Mason Anderson incident. She didn’t know what Jason had said to him, what had he done, all she knew was that Mason never bothered her again after that. 
It was the night of her 16th birthday. It was late, probably past 3 in the morning when Jason carefully landed on the fire escape that led to her bedroom. He carefully carried a small box, wrapped neatly with a blue bow. He had chosen the gift lovingly, his heart warm with her. Jason hadn’t expected her to be such an integral part of his life, but just as quietly as she arrived, she placed herself in his heart permanently. She was his friend, true friend, she didn’t expect anything other than his company and support, something he was glad to provide. 
His knuckles lightly grazed her window, making the softest noise.  Her shades were partially open, he could see her body lying comfortably on her bed. She moved slightly, her body turning towards the window. Her hands rubbed her eyes delicately, seeing Jason smile awkwardly at her. She got up and dragged her feet towards him, opening her window to him. 
“What’re you doing here?” her voice was slurred, intoxicated with sleep. 
“You know, you should really lock your windows,” he commented, “Gotham’s a dangerous city.”
“Jay,” she warned, “what’re you doing here? It’s…”she searched for her clock, “fuck, 3 in the morning.”
“It’s your birthday,” he responded clearly, as if it was the most obvious reason why he was on her fire escape, on a cold October night only wearing a light jacket.
She blinked at his blunt response, confused on what to say to him. “You’ll see me tomorrow, Jay, I don’t understand why’d you come all this way just to see me.”
“Because it’s you,” he shrugged, stepping into her bedroom silently. “You really thought I wouldn’t see you on your birthday?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, looking down at her feet. A soft breeze came in through the window sending shivers down her spine. Jason closed the window for her and she sent a silent thank you towards his way. “I thought you wouldn’t bother.”
“Well,” he extended the little box to her. Her fingers brushed on his softly, a shock sent on his skin at the touch, “I couldn’t not see you.”
Her hands hugged the box carefully, hesitant on what to do with what was given to her. “Open it,” he urged her. 
She eyed him suspiciously, undoing carefully the blue bow that decorated the gift. Opening the box, a tiny robin pendant next to two tiny stones pendants, an opal and an onyx: her birthstone and his. “Wow,” she breathed out, her heart racing inside her chest. Suddenly, she didn’t feel sleepy anymore. “Jason, this is… You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I had,” he stated, his eyes soft and loving, lingering on her more than they should. “You mean a lot to me, darling.”
Her eyes glinted underneath the pale moonlight streaming through the half closed curtains of her room. Jason’s breath hitched quietly at the sight of her, disheveled and sleepy and yet the most perfect person to grace his life. She was at a loss for words for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth, not knowing how to react. Her eyes trailed frenetically over the pendants, trying to find meaning in those.
“Why a robin?” the inquiry startled Jason. He wasn’t expecting to explain himself, much less explain why he had given her a robin pendant. She had no clue what he did when the night fell, who Bruce actually was and he intended to keep her in the dark about that aspect of his life. She didn’t need to know anyway, and telling her would only put her in danger. That was what Bruce made her believe. 
“It reminded me of you,” he answered, simply, his eyes fixated on her angelic face. 
It wasn’t untrue. Robins were friendly and protected over, birds that should never be harmed. Jason made sure of that, he had her back, always, and he knew she had his. But mostly, he wanted her to have a piece of him everywhere she went. If something were to happen, he wanted to guarantee he wouldn’t be a footnote in her life. What a magnificent life that would be, he knew.
Her eyes ran on his face, looking for a hint that he wasn’t sincere, that he was just messing with her. The thought was more heartbreaking than she anticipated. She found nothing malicious in his face, in his eyes, and smiled back at him. “Thank you, Jay,” she kissed his cheek delicately, her lips barely brushing his skin. It was enough to send both of them into a frenzy of feelings, a thousand thoughts running through their heads. 
“Here,” he extended his hands, his eyes clear and full of emotion for her, “I’ll put it on for you.”
She handed him the box, turning around so he could clasp the hook of the necklace. Jason was considerably smaller than her - she guessed it was because of the years of malnutrition he endured when he lived on the streets - so she sat on her bed to meet his height. His fingers brushed slightly at the back of her neck, sending goosebumps on her body.
It was when she turned to look at him again that she realized that maybe Jason wasn’t just a friend to her. Maybe the interest she had in Jason, or how her heart raced when she saw him for the first time in the day weren’t because he was her friend. Maybe it was because she had decided to love him with all her soul. 
#
#
Aged 16, April 28th.
It was ironic how sunny it was in Gotham that day. It was like nothing had happened, the world hadn’t gotten the memo that it was supposed to be gloomy and sad outside, to match the pain she felt inside. 
On the deep green grass of Gotham cemetery, stood her and Jason’s family, listening to a priest preach something meaningless to her. Nothing mattered to her anymore, her friend, best friend, was buried deep into the earth, 6 feet under. She would never get to see him again, hear his laugh, take in his smile. She would never have another birthday with him, give him his favorite books, tell him she loved him. Her eyes were fixed on the fresh dirt lain over his shiny coffin, her hand fidgeting on the robin pendant Jason had gifted mer  months before. It wasn’t an open casket, she couldn’t even see him for the last time. 
The call was the most confusing moment she had ever gone through. He didn't even tell her he was going after his mom. He didn’t even get to explain that to her. Jason just burst through her window late at night, saying he was leaving Gotham for a few weeks, anger seeping through his pores and contaminating the room. His knuckles were badly bruised, as her fingertips lightly brushed he hissed. She didn’t question him, it didn’t even go through her head. He had said he wanted to find a part of him, and she nodded, wishing him luck. 
Looking back, she wished she had begged him to stay, to find that part of him in Gotham, with her away from the perils of foreign bombs. Tears sprouted in her eyes as the thought passed through her head. It wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t predict a tragedy would have happened. It had become a mantra to her, and sometimes repeating it to herself didn’t help at all.
Bruce Wayne stood next to her, stoic, his face stony. It almost didn’t look like he had lost a son. But she saw how his jaw tensed, how it was similar to when Jason was upset and didn’t want to tell her about it. She could see how broken he was inside, how angry and desperate. She felt that too. 
The priest stopped talking and the four people standing on that lawn let out a stuck breath of relief. Jason’s brother approached his Father, walking away from her. She stared at the stone, cold like Jason’s body, with the engrave ‘Jason Todd, beloved son and friend’. It didn’t make justice to what Jason actually was, he was much more than just a son and a friend, but it was what they used to describe him. If Jason had decided what his epitaph would be, surely would be a dramatic quote from Shakespeare. 
Her name was called out in a posh british accent and she turned toward the person. What she saw was an older gentleman, holding a black umbrella to protect his baldness from the sun. A thin mustache hung over his upper lip, molded into a sad frown. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth. Master Jason talked a lot about you,” he commented with his left hand behind his back.
“All good things, I hope?” she joked quietly, her eyes trailed to her black shoes, wet grass glued to the sides of it. 
“The best things, I assure,” his voice was firm and calm, his accent oozed her security, something she was eager to cling on. He reached for the inner pocket of his blazer, pulling a crisp white card. She furrowed her eyebrows, accepting the card. On it, it had Alfred’s name, his profession underneath and a phone number. “If you ever find yourself needing anything, I’ll be happy to help.”
She nodded, her thumb lightly brushing the expensive paper on her hand. “Thank you Mister Pennyworth,” her eyes found the old man, the wrinkles around it making his stern stance seem gentler. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to come over for some tea?” he offered. “I’m sure Master Bruce wouldn’t mind having his son’s friend over.”
She wanted to, a force inside her compelled her to accept his offer. But her heart was broken, and she didn’t know if she was ready to enter what used to be Jason’s home so fast after he was buried. At the same time, maybe she didn’t have the nerve to say no to such a kind person. “I--,” she hesitated, “okay, I’ll have some tea.”
#
#
Aged 18, mid-August.
“I don’t know what to do, Alfred,” her hands fiddling with the necklace Jason had given her long ago. “It feels like I’m at a crossroads and every sign points to the direction my heart doesn’t want to go.”
The old butler poured her mint tea - her favorite, as he had learned over the weekly visits she paid him - calmly and firmly as she ranted. “What is holding you back?”
She looked at Alfred, her eyes confused at the question. She hadn’t lingered on the fact of why she didn’t want to accept the scholarship on Metropolis. Her brain told her it was only logical, she would miss her parents, her weekly meeting with Alfred, her hometown. But Alfred was always one step ahead, he had a sixth sense as she had come to learn. “You know,” she replied softly, her eyes lingering on the beautiful teacup in front of her. 
He said her name, getting her attention. “Master Jason isn’t here anymore,” he stated simply, laying cookies on her plate, “you don’t have to stay behind for him.”
“I know,” she picked up the spoon and twirled it between her fingers. “But,” she hesitated, not knowing how to phrase her feelings, “Alfred, I can’t even think of it. I can’t wrap my brain around leaving him.”
“You are not leaving him,” his voice was calm and gentle, softening her panic. “You are moving on.”
She shook her head, her eyes shut close tightly. “It doesn’t feel like it,” she whispered, “I feel like I’m meant to be here, Alfred. I can’t really explain it.”
“Well, if you do decide to stay in Gotham, I hope we can continue our weekly teas,” Alfred said, a tone of hope in his voice. 
She smiled at him, her eyes filled with kindness. “If I do decide to stay, I’d love to keep our weekly teas,” her smile stayed as she uttered the words. “I appreciate our time together, Alfred.”
“I’m honored,” he said to her, bringing the teacup to his lips.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind her and she turned around to see who it was. Turning around, her hand bringing the teacup to her lips, she saw a disheveled Bruce Wayne walking towards her. His eyes were barely opened, prominent bags under his eyes cast a shadow on his features. His tie hung untied on his neck, his shirt over his pants, the sleeves folded up to his elbows. It was a stark contrast from the Bruce Wayne she had seen at Jason's funeral, two years back, the one she saw frequently splattered on the news front pages.  
“Oh,” he stopped on his tracks, his hands falling limply to his sides. His jaw tensed and, suddenly, a mask fell on his face, the vulnerability he displayed a few seconds before gone. He wasn’t anymore Bruce, a guy who had just woken up and wanted something from the kitchen of his oversized home, he was the Bruce Wayne, now. The velocity of the transformation haunted her. “I didn’t realize we had visitors.”
She rested the teacup pack on the counter, and got up from the stool. “I’m so sorry Mr. Wayne,” she muttered, extending her hand, introducing herself. “I am, was, Jason’s friend.”
“Yes, yes,” he nodded, “I remember you.”
Alfred looked pointenly at Bruce as pulled a mug from a cabinet. He poured coffee for himself, and leaned against the counter next to Alfred. She stood there next to her stool, paralyzed in his presence. Everytime she was present in Wayne Manor, Bruce was either too busy to ever grace them with his presence, or away on some business trip she never bothered to ask what for. “We have weekly teas, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, his tone laced with something deeper than announcing their weekly traditions. 
Bruce’s jaw tightened somehow and his blue eyes rested on her. Her eyes drifted to her teacup, her tea getting cold. She was itching to grab it and drink it, but she felt uncomfortable even moving a inch from her place, much less feeling the liberty to resume her previous behavior. “Really?” his eyebrows shot up, his head tilting slightly. “Please, seat, pretend I’m not here.”
She hesitated before sitting back down. Her hands hugged her teacup, the warmth of it seeping through her skin. It was hard to pretend he was not there next to her, looking at her with judging eyes. She wondered if he remembered her from the funeral, if he had thought of her when he was thinking of Jason’s legacy, what his son had left behind. Her eyes looked up at Bruce before quickly darting back down to her tea, “Yeah, I don’t really wanna go to Metropolis,” she whispered, resuming her previous conversation with Alfred. The air in the kitchen was tense and awkward, she couldn’t look any of them men in the room in the eyes. 
“I’m certain Gotham U will admit you,” Alfred reassured her, “You’re a brilliant person, they’d be fools to let you go.”
“Thank you, Alfred,” her eyes were focused on the tea, like it was the most important thing in that kitchen. “They usually don’t take this long to send the letters, it’s making me nervous.”
“Gotham U, huh?” Bruce chipped in. “What’s your major?”
She looked expantly at Alfred, trying to see if he knew any of Bruce’s intentions. But she often forgot how impassive Alfred was, how in control of his emotions he was, something she lacked. He didn’t show her anything, she assumed he knew of something, like usually. “Applied physics,” she responded, quietly. 
“Wow,” Bruce breathed out, “impressive.”
She offered him an awkward smile in return. It was hard to find a response to the reaction of others when they became aware of her major. It was highly uncommon, and usually those who followed that path were men. When people discovered what she wanted to do with her life, they almost always reacted like they had found an unicorn.
“Well, when you do graduate, look for me, I can help you get a job,” Bruce politely offered, his tone kind. She looked up at him for the first time, his expression almost fatherly. 
“Thank you Mr. Wayne, that’s very kind of you,” she bored her head, looking down at her tea once again. 
His phone rang, and he picked it up from his pocket. Her eyes trailed over to his expression, his jaw once again tense. “You’re welcome,” he replied, feigning happiness and comfort. “If you’ll excuse me,” he left the kitchen in broad steps, his shoulders tense and determined. 
That was the first time she came to the conclusion that Bruce Wayne was a strange man. 
#
#
Aged 22, end of May.
College was an excruciating experience, but finally she had left it all behind. With her diploma in hands, she finally felt a small semblance of freedom, something she had longed when isinde the four walls of her old dorm in Gotham U. 
She stepped into the ground floor of Wayne towers, her shoes clicking nervously on the floor. She had made sure to dress properly to meet Bruce Wayne, unsure of what he’d think if she showed up dressed like a broke college student, something that she very much was. It was the mentality of fake it till you make it, aim a bit higher and maybe you’ll get there. She desperately wished she’d get there.
One of the receptionists let her in, indicating the floor in which she should go to. Her hands sweat gripping the folder with her recommendations and her resume, she gulped looking at the elevator intently. Her free hand found its way to the tiny robin gently resting on her neck. She wished Jason was there to help her, give her tips on what to say to his Father to make him glad, and what to avoid doing so that he’d hire her. She could imagine him if she closed her eyes, next to her, barely taller than her, smiling at her wishing her good luck. The elevator dinged, bringing her back to reality. Jason wasn’t next to her, and she didn’t have anyone to give her tips on what to say to her potential boss. She was alone, just like she had been for six long years. 
In spite of the hundred floors of the building - quite literally - the elevator ride was fast. When the doors opened, it revealed a small greeting room, with a couple of couches and a tall window illuminating it. She eyed directly in front of her, the double doors with a tiny plaque with the name Bruce Wayne engraved on it. Her eyes lingered on it for a couple of moments, as she walked towards the lonesome couch next to the big window. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the beating heart. She wondered if Bruce was already inside the room, if he remembered what he had offered to her all those years ago, or if he had just been polite and did not plan on following with it at all. 
After that strange meeting with him four years back, she had barely seen him again. A couple of times she had seen a shadow passing through the corridors while she was heading out of the Manor, someone she assumed for the sake of her mental health it was Bruce Wayne and not a ghost. The notion that he was a strange man only intensified, adding the perception that he was hiding something. She knew he was a good actor, but she could see tiny cracks and slips, an ability gained from years of loneliness. It was hard to say what it was that he was keeping a secret from everyone, but there was something there. 
Her name was called and she saw Bruce Wayne standing underneath the frame of the double doors that lead to his office. She got up promptly and walked towards him, her grip on her folder tight. His hand was extended and she shook it professionally, pretending like she wasn’t panicking inside. 
“I have someone I’d like for you to meet,” he stated, guiding her inside his office. The office was probably four times bigger than the small room she had stayed previously, the large windows providing a beautiful view from Gotham. You could almost pretend it was a normal city looking out from that window. “This,”  he motioned to the man sitting on a cozy nook in the back of the room, “is Lucius Fox.”
The man was big and well built, his round glasses standing on the tip of his nose. He smiled at her, crinkles forming beside his eyes. His hand found his glasses, taking them off and putting them in his pocket. “Nice to meet you, Miss. mr. Wayne has talked a lot about you,” he stated, his hand extended for her to take it. 
She looked back at Bruce, confused. After all, he remembered her and he remembered his offer. She turned back to Lucius and shook his hand, a determined expression on her face. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fox.”
“Lucius Fox is the head of our R&D department, and has agreed to take you as his personal apprentice,” Bruce explained. 
Shock overcame her, her eyes wide. She looked between Lucius’ kind smile and Bruce’s stoic stance, unable to believe the opportunity was real. “Really?” she uttered incredulously. 
“I have some personal projects and I’d very much need the help,” Lucius explained, calmly. “Mr. Wayne has talked highly of you, I’m eager to see what you’re capable of doing.”
“I--,” she shook her head, trying to get rid of the hesitation, “thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome,” Bruce responded, a small smile gracing his lips. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”
#
#
Aged 24, April 26th.
The humid air of the cave made sweat drip down her face as she tinkered away with a broken gadget she had designed for Bruce’s night time activities, as she had so dearly called it. 
It was a new development, the cave and the capes and the vigilantism. The two years she invested working with Lucius all served a greater purpose to Bruce. She was to be the next Lucius Fox, help provide Batman, or rather Bruce - in her head it was still confusing to assume that the guy who had given her a job was the ‘Dark Knight’ - with gadgets capable of doing everything that his physical capabilities couldn’t. Lucius was old and reaching retirement, and even if he loved his job, he was reaching his limit. She was beyond grateful for his guidance, she had learned so much. But he had left her a fucking weird job. There was no other way to describe it. 
The cave was quiet, Bruce had left sometime before, she could only hear Alfred quietly talking to Bruce through the comms and the drip-drip of water falling from the ceiling and hitting the small lake underneath her. She had settled in a little abandoned nook, her tools all scattered on top of her table. She rested the screw driver she was working with on the table, lifting the magnifying lens. She rubbed her face, tired of looking towards the tiny malfunctioning screen.
Her hands remained on her face, concealing her emotions. The robin pendant always felt especially heavy on the 26th of April. It had been 8 years since she had seen Jason, and as pathetic as it sounded, she never really got over the loss of him. They always felt particularly lost, she couldn’t focus on anything other than him, running circles around any problem presented to her. Looking at the gadget, it felt nearly impossible to find a solution to it, her mind foggy with sadness and grief that she could never really shake off, even with years between her and the day he had died. 
The knowledge that Bruce kept everything as Jason had left, and even made a little homage to his Robin days in a secret corner of the cave, hidden from view, was heavy in her heart. She struggled to keep her eyes trailed to her task and not at the memory of Jason. She took a sharp breath, trying desperately to sew herself together. It was truly pathetic how much it still affected her, how open the wound still was. 
A sharp motor sound echoed through the walls of the cave, disturbing the few bats that hung from the ceiling. A guy built like a fucking brick wall parked his bike on the platform, taking long strides towards where Alfred stood. He adorned a cracked red helmet that glistened in the white lights that illuminated the pathway. His heavy footsteps echoed through, her eyes unable to escape from him. She approached silently, praying that that loose panel near the little stairs that lead to the main computer wouldn’t scratch underneath her weight. 
“Where the fuck is Bruce?” he growled, his hands balled into fists next to him. His leather jacket was worn and old, its sleeves bunched up near his elbow, exposing his veiny forearms. The cracked part of the helmet revealed his blue eyes, sparkling in a familiar way. It tugged her heartstrings, her hand instinctively went to her robin. It couldn’t be, Jason was dead. 
“He’s on patrol, Master Jason,” Alfred said calmly, his eyes trailed to the screens in front of him. Alfred acted like this man’s fits of anger were completely normal. 
Her brain repeated that it wasn’t Jason, it was a mere coincidence that this man’s name was the same as her dead best friend’s. Jason was a tiny and scrawny kid, he wasn’t tall and thick like this man. Jason wasn’t bitter and prone to anger fits, even if he was angry most of the time. He was silent and kind and sweet, this man looked to be the opposite of it. 
“He promised, Alfred, where is he?” he growled, his fist slamming on the table. “He fucking promised.”
“I’m sure he’ll arrive soon, if you’d like to wait,” Alfred motioned to the medical bay, the gurney sitting there on its lonesome. The man huffed, marching to the gurney, otherwise ignoring her presence a few feet away. 
She approached Alfred quietly. “Who was that?” her voice laced with curiosity and fear. 
Alfred looked at her serenely, knowing something she didn’t. He smiled at her, teh crinkles around his eyes appearing generously. “Why don’t you find out?,” he responded to her camly. 
She took it as an order, and made her way towards the small infirmary area. Her footsteps were light and determined, her hand clutching the robbing resting on her chest tightly. Her brain ran over scenarios on how likely it was that this person had almost every physical attribute to her best friend Jason, if he had taken steroids for the past 8 years. It wasn’t likely, but in light of her new knowledge, of how close the supernatural was to her, it was very much possible. 
“Do you want me to take a look?” she asked quietly, shifting the weight from her heels to the tips of her toes. She felt so small in his presence, something she didn’t feel with Bruce, oddly. Maybe it was because Bruce didn’t give off such menacing vibes when he was near her, or maybe it was because her brain was unconsciously comparing this man to her Jason, who had always been smaller than her. “At the helmet, I mean.”
He eyed her surgically, analyzing everything about her. His eyes rested on her pendants, widening slightly in recognition. It took almost everything in her to control her beating heart, to control her brain trying to say that in fact that man before her was her Jason, and it wasn’t her brain playing tricks on her. 
He gently took his helmet off, revealing his crisp black hair cooly laying on his forehead. His eyes focused on the helmet, his arms extended to give it to her gently. Her eyes would leave his face, a face she had longed to see for eight excruciatingly long years. His eyes had remained the same, after all: kind and sweet. His face, however, told a story of hardships and pain, hardened by whatever he had been through all these years. She didn’t know how to feel, if she should feel betrayed he hadn't trusted her enough to say that he was alive, that he was six feet under anymore, or if she should feel elated that Jason was alive and she could finally tell him all the things she wanted to.
Her fingers brushed him slightly, as she picked up the broken helmet from his hands. His hands still felt the same, her heart noticed, picking up a beat. She looked at the crack that exposed half of his face, the electrical parts fizzling dangerously. Her eyes focused on Jason once again, her lips shut painfully. The tears that came to her eyes were inevitable, trembling fingers reaching at her robin pendant, clutching it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t,” he shook his head gently, “it’s not your fault.”
She could see he wanted to touch her, but something held him back. She wouldn’t find out what until much later.  
#
#
Aged 24, August 16th. 
Jason had promised her he would show up, and he never broke his promises. That was what she repeated to herself, late at night. She had prepared everything for his birthday, bought a present for him and baked a cake. She had said that he was supposed to appear at seven. It was well past midnight, the cake had found its way back to the fridge, the present was back in her closet, and he hadn’t showed up yet. 
A part of her kept telling her to give up, her best friend had stood her up: Jason changed fundamentally, he wasn’t the same boy he was when she met him and it was foolish to hang on to that notion; it was perfectly plausible that he had the habit of breaking promises now.  But she was well aware of that, she saw it in the tiny things how much Jason was transformed, it still didn’t change the fact that she knew he valued loyalty above all else, and that included loyalty to his words. He wouldn’t break his promise to her. 
She changed out of the cute dress she was wearing, feeling foolish and sad that she was about to give up most of the hope that he would show up. Her pyjamas welcomed her comfortably, a safe space to let the heartbreak settle on her. He won’t break his promise, she repeated mentally, he won’t. The mantra did little to soothe the growing dread inside her, the notion that maybe she didn’t know him as well as she did. That he didn’t tell her everything that day, that he didn’t trust her anymore. It hurt more than she anticipated. 
Sleep was almost consuming her when she heard a loud clang outside her bedroom. She shook awake, throwing the covers off her instinctively. Her hand grabbed the baseball bat that rested beside her bed, bringing it up and close to her. With slow steps, she approached the window. Her fear settled when she saw the familiar red helmet staring back at her, begging to let him in. She dropped the bat on the floor, opening the window. 
He got in her room awkwardly, struggling to pass his huge frame through a tiny space. She reached to help him, offering her hands. He took them, butterflies running amok on her tummy. “You’re late,” she commented, trying to mask the hurt in her voice. 
“I know,” he said, taking off his helmet and dropping it on top of her bed. “I’m sorry.”
She hummed looking at him underneath the moonlight seeping through her window. She hadn’t gotten used to how big he became, and how smaller she felt in his presence. She was by no means a small woman, but his entire being could encapsulate her with a simple hug, and not the other way around like it used to be. “Why are you late?” she moved to sit on the bed, the helmet rolling off the bed delicately. 
He looked at her, sitting down next to her gently. “I don’t know,” he answered, rubbing his hands together, his elbows resting on his thighs. 
“Why do I feel like you’re not being honest with me?” her head tilted, looking at his beautiful profile. There was a scar connecting his right temple to the corner of his upper lip, and it made him even more beautiful than he already was. He fascinated her to no end, his brain, his looks, his entire being was what made her keep going, the light on the end of her tunnel. 
His eyes trailed over her face, looking for something she guessed he wouldn’t find. “Why are you always so nice to me?”
“What do you mean, Jason,” she breathed out, confused at the inquiry. “I’m your friend, I’m supposed to be nice to you.”
“No, you’re not,” he shook his head, his hands balled into fists and his eyes closed. “You’re not supposed to be kind to me,” he got up, his back towards her.
“Stop it, Jason, you’re scaring me,” she whispered, her voice shaking a bit. 
“You’re supposed to be angry at me. I abandoned you, left you alone, and when I came back I didn’t tell you, I didn’t look for you,” he continued, trying to manipulate her emotions.
“Why are you saying these things, Jason, they’re not true,” she got up, her voice no longer shaking, determined and focused. 
“Because I don’t deserve it,” he turned to her, his eyes tortured and sad. “I don’t deserve your kindness and friendship. I’m not worthy of it.”
“Jay, I--” she started, but Jason interrupted her. 
“Don’t, please. I’m not worthy of anyone’s love,” his voice was heavy with emotion. She discovered that Jason was often ruled by two main emotions: sadness and anger. In that moment, she could only see those in him and a part of her broke.
“That’s not true, you’re worthy of mine,” her voice was so honest and raw, it caught Jason by surprise. She didn’t know what he expected out of her at that moment, maybe to give in to his spiral of bad thoughts and self flagellation, but she refused to let him believe those awful things. “Jason, you really don't know?”
He remained in silence, his eyes wide and shocked, focused on the ground. His jaw was tense and his hands balled into fists tightly. She took a hesitant step towards him, reaching for his hands. They relaxed under her touch and she threaded her fingers through his. It wasn’t hard to notice how perfectly they fit with each other, like to halves of a whole. “I’ve loved you ever since I was 14 and you marched into the boys bathroom to get my lit homework back from Mason Anderson,” she whispered, her eyes focused on his face, while his were focused on their hands together. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it, Jay. But I can’t let you believe all those horrible things you said. Not when I love you more than anything in this world.”
He stayed silent for a couple of moments, her heart beating erratically inside her chest, fearing she had screwed up their friendship for good. In a way, it was worst to know he was out there and didn't want to speak to her because she dared to tell him about her love for him. “Please say something,” she begged him quietly. 
His eyes finally found hers, his hands breaking the link they formed. He rested his hands on her cheeks gently, and she dared say, lovingly. Her heart started beating excitedly, the fear slowly dissipating as his gaze got more intense. 
His lips brushed against hers, her eyes fluttering closed at the contact. He kissed her gently, a love delicate and fragile, just acknowledged between them both. His grip on her was firm, his thumb grazing delicately on her cheekbones. Her hands thread through his soft hair, still slightly humid from the sweat caused by the helmet. The air was charged with want, tentative kiss toeing the line between what it was and something more. 
She wished to stay like that forever. She prayed to  whatever was out there in the Universe, to allow her that happiness. To stay kissing her love tentatively in the dark for as long as she could, as long as he’d let her. 
Jason broke the kiss, his forehead resting on hers. His fingers found their way to the back of her head, cupping it softly. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips almost brushing with hers. She reached for his lips once again, like a magnet finding its match. “I love you so much,” he reassured.
They kissed once again, not intending to break apart any time soon. 
237 notes · View notes
ererokii · 3 years
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Warmth of your Touch || Eren Jaeger
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➳ Eren Jaeger x Fem Reader
Word Count: 4K Warnings: contains spoilers from season three Taglist: @jaegerbomb20 @sleepysnk (message to be on it in the future)
➳  Note: This is from my canceled december event and it was just laying around in my drafts, i might start posting more of those! Also ignore the typos and such, this is HEAVILY UNEDITED.
The members of the Survey Corps couldn’t remember the last time they let loose and had fun. Around here, everyone was on their tiptoes, waiting for any enemy to strike. Really, all of humanity was like this. But the Scout Regiment was the first line of defense, and they always went underground first before anyone else. 
Many casualties swept over the brigade. The return to Shinganshina hit hardest. With the Beast Titan arrival and the fight put up by the Colossal and the Armored inflicted more damage than any group of titans could. With the death of Commander Erwin, and the retrieval of Reiner by the Cart Titan and Zeke, it wasn’t right. With the soldiers returning back home, it was quiet. No one dared to speak another word.
Only 20 or less able bodies made it back home to their families and were lucky enough to see the rays of the sun and breathe in the air that the Earth gave them. Too bad others were left on that battlefield on that day, their bodies becoming one with mother nature once more. 
The days slowly but surely started to get shorter as summer turned to fall. The colors of the leaves changed for the season, right on time. The hot sticky air turned to crisp, and more damp. The sky let out it’s tears and covered the earth with grey blankets more often. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, as the fluffy white shapes overtook the sky. The rays barely peeked through them, unable to give light for the day. 
With the help of Eren’s new hardening technique, he was able to make a new weapon that saved many soldiers from here on out. Hanji was enraptured about it. This experiment, that was a success, was all she could speak about. Nothing else mattered in her mind, and Captain Levi knew that as well. 
Eren was pushed to the brim with this. Day after day, night after night, the boy was exhausted. They pushed him beyond his limits for the technique. Sometimes, he was in and out of consciousness. His titan form decreased in size, his bones would crack upon another transformation to the point where he couldn’t even stabilize himself with his own legs that had the width of twigs.
Fall soon turned over for the year and gave the duty of the seasons to Winter. Winter came rather hard, and quick at that. The harsh winds sent chills up and down the soldiers' spines as they paid their respects to their fallen comrades. An assortment of bouquets were placed in front of the many grey stones that represented a daughter, a son, a father or a mother. 
The dirt underneath the boots of the breathing was moist from the rain. The crunches of leaves was the only noise that rang in a soldier’s ears, despite the sobs from others. 
Eren couldn’t help but carry the burden. He felt as if it was his fault for their deaths. Their sacrifices, only to keep him alive and well. Humanity’s Last Hope. With the newfound memories from his father, he knew that everything laid in his hands. 
☽✧ ✦ ✧☾
The seasons passed as they always did. Life in the walls became busy once more. In a year, the Scouts were able to wipe all the leftover titans in Wall Maria. This meant old residents of this wall were able to return to their homes and start all over again. There was nothing wrong with that, but it meant that the fight for their land was over.
Everyone seemed to show gratitude towards the Scouts. At first, they hated the soldiers who would risk their life to put an end to the Titans reign of power. Called them ‘fat pigs who lived off of our hard working money’. Many soldiers of course took offense to this, but decided to stay silent. After all, they were right about the hard working money. Their earnings were the only things that allowed them to have the supplies they needed to survive. 
Winter approached once more to the soldiers of the Survey Corps. Adjustments were made as they needed to happen. Hanji, was appointed as the new Commander of the regiment. The news of humans being Titans spread like wildfire between every man and woman in the walls. The children stayed oblivious. 
The outside word began to shine brighter if possible. The world was rid of the filth that the Titans had left behind. The grass was able to dance in the wind as flowers began to grow from the soil. Animals were able to come out from years of terror, finally realizing they were free. Even though the man eating creatures weren’t attracted to animals, the sight of any being over an average height could place fear into the hearts of anyone, including living creatures. 
The gust of wind blew against the windows of the rooms in the headquarters. Despite everything being closed, the nooks and crannies were able to fill the once warm shelter, making it cold and gloomy. 
The Levi squad, that consisted of those left over from the battle at Shinganshina, were put to cleaning duty. Of course, that’s what you guys always did when Captain Levi felt it was time for a new cleaning, which was about every other day. 
Currently, you got stuck in a room with Sasha and Connie. Your job was to clean the room, wipe the shelves, mop the floor, wipe the desk that was in there, make sure to sweep the room as well. It was a lot of tasks for a room that was meant for one person.
A hum vibrated in your throat as you stood on your tiptoes, using a rag that was given to you by the Captain, to clean the upper shelves. It wasn’t even that dirty. You would give it at least another few days before it needed to be cleaned. It was like Levi had a secret eye for spotting microscopic dust particles.  It was absurd to say the least.
Behind you were the other two, Connie and Sasha. They did do their work! They actually helped, but for some reason they decided nothing to. You could hear their giggles and the clanging of their broomsticks knocking against each other. The buckets getting knocked over with dirty water didn’t help either but hey, if they got in trouble that was on them. Least you were doing your part.
Maybe you could laugh from your room as you watched them run until their legs fell off, begging for mercy as the hot sun burned against their backs. It always amused you when the Lieutenant stared up at them, unamused. 
You flinched when you heard Sasha let out a screech and a cry of anguish discharged from Connie’s mouth.
“What are you guys doing?” you questioned as you swiveled on your heel, turning to face them. Connie’s ass had met the floor, a hand against the floor to keep him upright and the other on top of his head. Sasha on the other hand, still had her arms raised in the air, a look of revelating shock on her features. They seemed to be playing ninjas again by the way Sasha had her leg up and bent in a right angle. 
“She hit me, that's what she did!” Connie abruptly stated, looking up at the two girls in front of him. “You promised not to hit me! I never hit you!”
“It was an accident Connie! Your head just happened to come into contact with my hand! It wasn’t intentional, honest!”
“What’s going on in here?”
Your eyes widened as you held the wooden stick with a vice like grip to your chest. Your heart began to beat a bit faster than usual. Your posture straightened up as you turned around to look at the short man.”C-Captain Levi!”
The said man looked up at you, then turned his head to Sasha and lowered his gaze to Connie, who was still on the floor. No words were exchanged as he took a step back, realizing the mess that occurred. The cleaning supplies were scattered across the floor, the mop and brooms were on the floor instead of the hands of Sasha and Connie, and not to mention the dirty water was spilled and engraved into the rugs. Yeah, they were in deep shit. 
Without warning, Levi made a ‘come forth’ motion with his index finger, to the pair, glancing his silvery eyes to your stiff body. “Keep cleaning, I’ll make Eren come help you.”
“Yes sir!” you saluted him as fast as you could, internally shaking as the three of them walked out of the messy room. As soon as they left, you could hear yelling from the corridor and their terrified squeaks. 
A huff escaped your lips as you bent over, picking up the spare cleaning supplies. Looks like it would be awhile until someone else came to help you.
He said Eren right?
At the name of the boy, your face heated up as you shook your head rapidly, ignoring any thoughts of them. It was often that the brunette invaded your unconscious mind and overtook every crevice of it. His eyes were absolutely beautiful. They had to be your favorite part of him, besides his personality. The way the irises shined in the sunlight, the rays giving them an ethereal look. His lashes complimented them. They weren’t long, but they weren’t short. Whenever he stared at you, you swore you could just lose yourself in them.
His appearance was changing. His hair became longer and rested at the base of his neck. His shoulders began to broaden as he got a bit taller as the year passed. His loud mouth quieted down as he became more realistic with his goals. He was still the same driven boy you met three years ago.
“Hey.”
Your jaw slacked as you looked over your shoulder. Eren was standing in the door frame, as he looked down upon you. It took you a second to realize what position you were in, on your hands and knees with your back facing him. Scrambling off the floor, you swiftly fixed the shirt and pants of your uniform. “H-Hi Eren!”
Fuck you probably embarassed yourself in front of your own crush. He probably thought you were a weirdo.
“Hi Y/N,” he spoke calmly and walked into the room, brushing a strand of brown hair out of his face as he placed a hand on the desk, using it as leverage to crouch and grab a mop. “They made a big mess huh?”
“Yeah they did..they always manage to get themselves in trouble. Kinda shocked..how they lasted this long in the Levi Squad.”
An amused noise came from Eren as he looked out the window, squinting his eyes. Without speaking, he advanced forward to the glass and moved the curtain out of the way. “Well would you look at that..”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“It’s snowing,” he muttered and took a step back, letting the drapes loose from his hands. “Wonder how they’ll get punished.”
“No way it’s snowing?” you asked, ignoring his last words as you rushed to the window, placing your hands on the cold glass. You had just finished cleaning it, your hand prints would now be stuck to it. “Wow it is,” you whispered, a joyous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “We should go outside right now.”
“Now? Are you crazy? Captain Levi would punish us twice as hard than those two! We could probably be on our deathbed if we don’t get to work!”
“Oh hush up Eren! When was the last time we were able to have fun huh? Years right? Literally! Live a little!” you exclaimed, tossing the stick on the floor. 
The brunette grumbled in protest as he shook his head, his strands of hair following his movement. “Thanks but no thanks. I rather live my life peacefully.”
An annoyed groan left your lips as you approached him, your lower lip jutting in an agitated pout. “Come on Eren. Please? For five minutes I promise! Levi is probably on the other side of headquarters right about now!”
He turned his head to the side, his eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were dull, but the curve of his lip meant otherwise. His fingers slithered around the silver pole of the mop, the pads of them moving up and down slowly as if he was thinking about it.
“Guess it can’t be helped,” as dramatic as he was, he let out a loud sigh and dropped the mop of the floor. “Let’s go. Before Captain Levi rips us a new one.”
“You’re the best Eren!”
“Uh huh. Now hurry up!”
☽✧ ✦ ✧☾
The two of you put on your winter coats. It was the same one as the ones you were given in your cadet years, just a bit more efficient. The hoods were over your head as you walked beside Eren in the falling snow. It could have looked like any soldiers left the building. Soldiers with no chores, is what you guys were going for. 
“I think we’re clear now,” you said as you took your hood off, looking around the vicinity. Eren glanced down at you and did the same, running a bare hand through his hair. 
“Well go crazy then. You brought us out here,”
“Shut up Eren,” a huff of air passed your lips, the fumes becoming visible to the eye as it turned to mist and disappeared. Your eyes wandered across the dark clouds in the sky, small white particles falling from the insides of them. The grass that you walked on, began to get covered by the blankets of snow, the crunching increasing underneath your boots as you moved an inch or two. Your fingers itched inside your pockets, begging to touch the white mess.
The tip of your nose began to grow cold as you let out a sniffle, scrunching your nose as well as your upper lip in the process. The cold was nothing compared to this though. Honestly, you wouldn’t have minded coming with someone else, but something about Eren made it ten times more special than a random person.
Eren watched you from his peripheral vision, staying silent as the shock and awe look on your face was enough for butterflies to appear in his stomach. You looked like a child in a jewelry store in Wall Sina. You had to have seen snow before, but it was just in the moment that made you look adorable. His cheeks burned with a rosy red as he looked away from you, craning his neck upwards to look at the grey blanket of darkness. If he looked close enough, he could see the sun trying to peek through the stubborn clouds, but to no avail, it could not.
He fluttered his eyes shut as he exhaled slowly, letting the days stress wash away from his body. Eren was exhausted. Emotionally, and physically. His body was used for experiments constantly, he rarely took breaks as he mentioned that he had to be ready for whatever. Emotionally, he hated his power. He hated being a monster like everyone said he was.
He attempted to be normal on so many levels. At first he knew he wouldn’t be better than those ugly creatures that used to roam the land. The townspeople weren’t his biggest fans. They tried persuading the Military Police to shut him down when he first found out about his shifting ability. It was horrendous. He just wanted to be seen as normal amongst those that were classified as a regular human being. 
He tried so hard, yet no one could listen to him. He couldn’t see himself as human. In his eyes, he was disgusting. He was ugly. He was a monster. 
Oblivious that Eren was in his own state of mind, you decided to take a moment to admire his looks. His eyelashes rested peacefully on the top of his cheeks, small puff of air exerted from his lips as his shoulders heaved up and down slowly. The tiniest of snowflakes landed on his supple skin, and melted away automatically from his warm body temperature. His hair started catching the fall snowflakes. The pieces of the small ice crystals scattered across his locks. He seemed like a snow angel, literally. The tip of his ears were a faint red, freezing from the cold atmosphere. 
He was alluring. You wanted to know more about him. You craved to hear his deepest of secrets that only you would know. You desired for him to be by your side, and for you to take care of each other. The only person that knew of your crush on the boy was his friends, Mikasa and Armin. 
Mikasa seemed to notice right away. In your third year of training, she took notice that you were more upbeat when Eren was nearby or you would try your best to be partnered with him, if she wasn’t already. Sometime in that year, she had approached you straight up, with the same look on her face and said--
“Do you like Eren, Y/N?”
“W-What do you mean?! Course I don’t like Eren!”
“You’re lying.”
She was in fact right. You begged her a hundred times not to bring it up to anyone, especially Eren. You would have rather been eaten by a titan, spit out and get devoured once more instead of having to confront Eren about your feelings. And of course since the universe loved messing with you, Armin happened to walk in on the moment you were begging with mercy and got curious as to what you were speaking about. 
“Y/N, do you like Eren?”
“No Armin, why would you think that?!”
“Yeah she likes him.”
“Mikasa!” 
At the embarrassing memory, you didn’t notice that Eren had already been staring at you, knowing that you were gazing up at him. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you in any way! Why are you looking at me like that?!”
“I asked you first, Y/N!”
Panicking, you quickly bent over and grabbed a clump of snow, modeling it into a sphere as you muttered things under your breath. He couldn’t know why you were staring because you wanted to kiss him, oh god no he could not. 
“Y/N?”
“Shut up!” you said quickly and threw the ball of snow at his face, a sound of shock leaving your lips when a noise of surprise left Eren as the sphere slid off his face. He blinked rapidly a couple times, small clumps of white stuck to his eyelashes, making his eyes more alluring. 
“Did you just…”
“Yeah I did..”
It was silent as he crouched down, staring forward but not at you. His hand dug into the blanket of snow and modeled a ball, letting out a shaky sigh. His nose has gone incredibly numb already at this point. His fingers dug into the delicate shape as he made eye contact for a split second before winding his arm back, and brought it forward with full force.
Before you had a second of protection, the ice crystal came into contact with your neck, the shape exploding upon contact and sending pieces flying. Some even fell down your coat and into your uniform. “Eren what the hell?!”
“What?” his grin that has been gone for too long, made its way back onto his face once more. Your heart fluttered at the sight. He looked like his old self once again. As much as you wanted to admit it, you missed him. You missed Eren. “shouldn’t have done that if you weren’t ready for a comeback huh?”
“Oh it's on,” you grunted. 
Little kids is what you became once more. Your shouts and his laughter could be heard miles away from headquarters. Shots of snow were being sent back and forth from either side, some hits being successful, others not so much.
Both of you had to have looked the same by now. Your eyelashes were damp from the melted crystals, as well as chunks of snow staying on top of your hair. Your nose was frozen off as the snow came down a bit harder than you expected, but you didn’t care.
It seems like hours have passed since you’ve come out here with Eren. Chores were forgotten in the back of your mind as your smile seemed to brighten by each second. It was sure that the water stains in the room dried, but left a foul stench in there. Captain Levi would for sure come and hunt you guys down for leaving your job unfinished. 
A loud laugh left your mouth when Eren tripped over a covered branch. His body folded as he fell forward, a yelp withdrawing from his lips. His face came into contact with the snow, his body leaving a decent sized human hole in the ground.
“Eren are you okay?!” you called out for when you stopped laughing, small puffs of air leaving your mouth as you walked over to his limp body.
He grunted as he pushed himself up, giving you an annoyed look. “Yes I’m perfectly fine,’ he grumbled and shook his head, reminding you of a dog as the pieces of snow fell off of his head.
“Run.”
Puzzled, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at him in curiosity. “I’m sorry, did you say run? Run for what?”
“Five.”
“Eren what the hell are you talking about?”
“Four.”
What the hell was he on about? If this was another one of his ramblings from his father’s memories, you would personally knock him out and tell him to quit it. But there was a different look in his eyes. His eyes were squinted, small creases formed at the corner of his eyes, a mischievous look in his orbs. His fingers clenched around nothing as he slowly got up from his position. 
“Three.”
Realization hit you like a wagon being pulled by horses as you took a step back cautiously, a small lump forming in your throat. Yeah, no. You rather not be crumbled to the ground by a boy, who weighed more than you. That was a death sentence.
Instead of running, because you wanted to be cautious of any possible injuries, you decided to speed walk in the direction of the doors that led to the inside of headquarters. He couldn’t try shit if you were already inside. God, why was Eren like this?
You didn’t even hear the crunches of the shoes from behind you as a pair of arms wrapped around your midsection and knocked you down onto the ground. With a sharp intake of air, your back collided with the pillowy bottom as you wheezed for air. Your eyes widened when you realized how close you were to Eren.
His hands were by your biceps, caging you underneath him. His brown locks fell forward, but they weren’t long enough to tickle your face. His cold breath fanned against your face as you felt yourself drown in his eyes. His eyes glanced down at your lips before looking into your eyes. He felt all of his willpower from keeping him sane. 
It seemed that his body moved on his own as he leaned down lower a fraction, as if he was getting ready to kiss you, but came to terms that it might not be the best idea. You took notice of it as you moved suddenly, bringing a hand up to his hood and pulled it over his head, making sure it covered his eyes. Your other hand raised up to his face, cupping the swell of his cheek as you leaned forward, pressing your cold lips against his own. 
His whole body tensed for a few seconds before melting into the kiss. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat you both up, cradling a hand behind your neck as if to bring you closer. Your hands moved from his hood to the front of his coat, your fingers curling around the material. A new sense of heat seemed to wash over your entire body. His fingers danced on the base of your neck, shivers running down your body, not only from the cold, but from his electrifying touch. With him being at an advantage, his forehead pressed up against yours. Your fingers weaved into his hair, slowly running up to his scalp, desperately trying to stay in the moment. 
He began to get shaky as he pulled away slowly, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth in the process. His eyes fluttered open as he took a look at your face. It looked like you were struggling to open your eyes after the kiss. It made him a bit prideful when he noticed this. 
“Open up,” he whispered, tapping your cheek with his fingers, a boyish smile on his face. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, a hazy look in your orbitals. 
“Hi Eren,” you forgot where you were as you glanced around the area, realizing you were still in the snow. “..I’m a bit cold.”
“Yeah? Me too,” he responded as he looked over your shoulder before pushing himself off of the ground, lending a hand for you. Gratefully, you took it as he hoisted you up. 
“Do you think Captain Levi found that we weren’t there?”
The boy stayed silent as he thought for a moment before shrugging. “Who knows. Maybe he did and he’s looking for us right now. I think we should go back then, before we get punished,” he muttered and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 
You stared down at his calloused palm rubbing up against your own. His hand was different. It was warm and it made you feel safe. Who knew a connection between hands was more than enough to know about your requited feelings. 
“Eren I like you,” you blurted out, your face heating up as you looked down at the ground, listening to the crunches underneath your feet as you advanced forward. 
“Yeah? I knew already.”
“Huh?!” A look of bewilderment and a choke of air was all you could express at the moment. Who betrayed you.
“How—“
“Mikasa,” he interrupted, a hint of smugness in his tone. “I asked her to find out for me last year.”
“Mikasa?” You whispered, voice wavering. You remember that she swore to not tell a soul, not even him. 
“But it worked out right?” He asked and looked down at you, a grin on his face. “You should really thank her one day. She may be silent, but she knows what she’s doing.”
You rolled your eyes as you nodded, hugging his arm close to your chest. “Yeah you’re right. Maybe we should both thank her. She does save your life after all.”
“Hey that’s one thing I would not do. I never asked for it!”
Your laugh could be heard from a few feet away in the midst of the snowfall. Fog began to cloud the outside word as you held onto Eren as a guide. 
Upon hearing your laugh, it made Eren feel human again. His heart was beating faster than normal, a sign that he was feeling another emotion besides fear. The touch of your hand set a fire full of adoration within him. 
Unbeknownst to the two teenagers, their short Captain watched with his hard eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. He had just checked up on Sasha and Connie, who were cleaning the stable and happened to come across the scene not too far away from him.
Instead of deciding to approach the pair and punish them, he let them have their fun. Even if Eren was one of the most hated people in all of Paradis, even the most hated deserved to have someone warm their heart.
776 notes · View notes
imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years
Text
day and night
inspired by the duality of insecurity and appreciation, and the way they often reflect each other in ways you wouldn’t expect
do i already have a fic called day and night? i dont know and at this point im too afraid to check
akaashi keiji x gender neutral reader  word count: 1356 tags: fluff, descriptions of akaashi’s insecurity, established relationship, cuddling, this is a fic about me and akaashi 
if u see any typos no u didn’t.
-
He hated the way his mind became so empty in moments like these. 
The bedside lamp shouldn’t be on, not so late, not while you were sleeping, but you never complained when you heard the flip of the switch and the opening of Keiji’s book. You slept through it. You tended to do that. 
Why?
He couldn’t figure it out. The reason you looked over everything he did wrong hid from him. It made no sense, really, the way you ate his over cooked meals with a straight face, or how you patiently undid the way he folded your clothes and fixed them to your liking, or when you slept with the light on while he read even though he knew you hated it. 
You hated it. His cooking and his folding and his light, his mismatched socks and his new cologne and his impatience. Keiji sat, and he watched you sleeping, his book in his lap and his glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose, knowing you hated all of these things about himself that he wouldn’t change, and still, there wasn’t a thought going through his head. His book had been forgotten. He was just looking at you. 
You put up with a lot. Likely too much. His alarm clock woke you up early while he slept right through it. Texts you send throughout the day go unnoticed by him. Late nights at work keep you up and waiting for him, just to watch him lock himself up in his office for another three hours of work. 
It wasn’t like these traits about him were new, but they were louder, now. They were blaring and obvious and bothersome and every positive thing he brought to this relationship seemed so goddamn quiet. 
That’s how Keiji felt. Quiet. It wasn’t an emotion, yet it was the only word he could think of to describe this insignificance. Maybe fragile was a better word. 
He closed his book. He placed it on the nightstand and let his glasses join it. Finally the light could be turned off, and maybe you would sleep more peacefully now. He threw his arm over your waist and pulled your back against his chest, trying to rid all of that distance, trying to fill the silence with your warmth. 
He’d lay awake for another hour. 
-
You heard it before your mind and body even woke up, and you knew what it was without needing to come out of your dream: that damn alarm. 
God, was it loud - it pierced your ears, it seemed loud enough to shake the walls and damage your hearing, and maybe it was because you had just woken up, but you could hardly stand it. 
Opening your eyes was the hardest thing you had ever done. Everything was fuzzy and foggy, you tried to blink it away but you couldn’t, and all you cared about was getting rid of that noise. 
You climbed over a still sleeping Keiji to reach his phone and shut it off, knowing that the alarm would ring again in ten minutes time, and your energy had run out. You collapsed on top of him, the crook of his neck becoming your new pillow and his chest your mattress. 
In a sleepy daze you wore a smile, wondering how on Earth he sleeps so soundly through the loudest alarm you’d ever heard. He doesn’t even move when you land on him, and he only continues to snore when his second alarm rings out. 
Like always, you’d let him sleep longer than you should. He’d be running late, but neither of you would care too much. It had become the routine, and you weren’t about to break this habit. You needed the time with him and Keiji needed the sleep. 
It was nice to be awake before him, and you had learned to get over the frustration that came with hearing that dreaded alarm clock. It wasn’t very difficult when you got to wake up to Keiji, who was comfort personified. He was the consolation to early, loud mornings. 
As you laid there, cuddling into his heated skin, listening to his breathing and his snoring and his heart beating, all you could focus on was how much you missed him. 
Sometimes these mornings were all you had with him. Your work schedules didn’t match - granted, Keiji’s schedule matched no one’s - and neither did your sleeping routines. Even when you stayed up late for him, even when he came home for lunch, even when you both had the same day off, there was just never enough time in the day. 
You never had enough of him. You wished you could become a sponge and soak all of him up - leave nothing behind, keep all of this golden man to yourself forever. It was a kind of selfishness you’d take pride in, if such an act was possible. 
But even though you missed him so much, even though letting him get out of bed every morning was harder than it should have been, you always sent him off with a kiss. You always reminded him you loved him. As proud as you were of yourself for reeling in the prize catch that was Akaashi Keiji, you were infinitely more proud of him - of his drive, of his work, of his charm. Proud of every success and failure. Of everything he provides and everything he strives for. Even as he struggled to tie his necktie in the morning, or missed important deadlines, or let himself become more distant than he should. There was always some amount of pride in there, and you never had to look hard to find it. 
Originally, you were going to let him sleep in this morning. He deserved it. But now, the more you thought about it - you’d much rather wake him up early. You deserved it. 
Your lips molded to the edge of his jawline as you grabbed his arm, slowly and surely shaking him awake. 
“Kei.” 
He grunted, then hummed, then whined. He tried to roll over but your weight on top of him held him down, though he hadn’t even realized you were there. Fists dragged along his eyes and feet kicked the blanket away with a big stretch - every morning was the same. 
“Gotta get up, babe,” you said before a yawn, and he pretended not to hear you. You only shook his shoulder harder.
“No,” he griped, and finally he opened his eyes, only to shut them tight. “Going in late today.” 
“You said you’d make me breakfast.” 
“You said you’d rather go without,” he said with a tired laugh trailing his words. 
He found the strength to roll the two of you over, tucking himself into you the way you had cuddled into him, and you gave his hair a tug. A warning to say, you better not fall asleep. 
“I was kidding,” you said. “Want you to make me something. Please.” 
He gave a groan, one you knew meant fine, but his arms tightened around you, and his legs twisted around yours, and he had nothing more to say. 
“Keiji.” 
“Five minutes, babe.” 
Keiji knew the two of you would be there for longer than that, and you did, too. He knew it could’ve been a bother, but you relaxed into bed, anyway, and let him do as he pleased. 
“Goodnight, then.” 
“Love you.” 
You laughed. “Goodnight.” 
And he squeezed your waist, making you jump. “Say it back.” 
“I will, when you bring me my burnt breakfast in bed.” 
“I will,” he sighed. “In five more minutes.” 
It wouldn’t be just five more minutes. That would be inevitable. But he would bring you the breakfast he promised, and it would all be as burnt as you expected. That would be inevitable, too. 
But you would eat it. And Keiji was glad that all of these things were a cherished certain, things he couldn’t change, things you loved him for even though he tended to lose sleep over them. 
He tried his best. And you knew that without being told. And he appreciated it. 
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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years
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I + Can’t + Lose + You (4)
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masterlist. AO3. 
Thank you so much for your patience with this one! There will be one more chapter after this before we reach the end of the road (ha!). I tried something new this chapter with the rapid POV shifts, so let me know what you think! 
*****
Tracking down the skip was almost too easy. Riley ran her facial recognition program through the city's traffic cameras, and two minutes later, Hector Pitt appeared strolling out of a McDonald's, large box of fries in hand. 
She and Mama had arrived in Phoenix a few hours before sunset. The dying sunlight cast a deep orange glow on the mountains rising in the distance. It was still hotter than hell outside, with no sign of impending relief, and sweat rolled down Riley's temples and between her breasts. She didn't understand why anyone would choose to live here. 
Mama called her daughter, Jesse, who was patrolling the east end of town and the suburbs beyond it, to let her know they located Pitt. 
He must’ve known Mama’s truck, because as soon as Riley pulled up to the McDonald’s, Pitt dove into his car and gunned the engine. “Why can’t this ever be easy?” Riley muttered. She sped off after Pitt, the tires squealing as the truck skidded around the corner.
*****
Mac arrived in Phoenix starving and bored out of his mind. He'd forgotten his snacks on the counter in the gas station in Indio, and his grumbling stomach reminded him of his mistake constantly. 
Knowing that Riley was probably safe eased the dread weighing heavy in his gut. There was no reason to fear what he might find at the end of the long desert highway, but he still couldn’t shake the desperation to see her, to touch her, to have her safe beside him. 
To tell her that he was in love with her, because while waiting seemed logical before, six hours of driving like a madman made the whole thing look ridiculous. What were they waiting for anyway? 
For them to get their shit together. For him to get his shit together. Riley was fine, always has been. Well, maybe not always, but close enough. 
What if they waited too long? What if it’s all just water under the bridge at this point? 
Mac was saved from answering that question by some asshole driving a red truck speeding past him on the wrong side of the road. A quick glance at the speedometer told Mac that he was already going ten miles per hour over the speed limit, and the other driver was going even faster. What the hell was their problem? 
Reaching out the window to flip them off, Mac glared at the driver. The woman had dark, curly hair and both hands clenched around the steering wheel. Another woman sat in the passenger seat. Mac couldn’t quite bring himself to laugh at how similar the woman’s driving was to Riley’s. 
Unless…
Shit. Was that Riley? The red truck swerved around a corner without slowing down—the way only someone with lots of experience in high-speed car chases would turn. Yep, Mac thought. Definitely Riley. 
He stepped on the gas, not daring to completely floor it until after he made the turn, and hauled ass in pursuit of the red truck.
*****
Riley was fuming. 
First, this asshole she passed flipped her off, and now he was following her? He wasn't doing a very good job of keeping up, but still. What the fuck? 
“This nerd sees one action movie and thinks he can be a getaway driver,” she snarled. “This isn’t NASCAR, buddy.” 
Mama gave her a look. “Isn’t that how you learned?” 
“Not the point.” Riley made another sudden turn. “Call Jesse and have her cut off Pitt. I’m gonna shake this guy.” 
*****
Reason number one why Mac was never the driver: he sucked at it. Riley was trying to lose him, and she was doing a damn good job. If he didn't know her well enough to somewhat predict her moves, Mac would've lost her already. This is what I get for flipping her off, he thought. 
Clearly she hadn't seen his face, or else this wouldn't be happening right now. With each turn, Mac lost a little ground. No cops yet, luckily, but it wouldn’t matter if he got stopped by cops because he was about to lose Riley again anyway. 
Mac wished he had Riley in the passenger seat, scouring a satellite view and directing him through the best route to catch, well, her. He couldn't remember ever not blindly trusting her to get him where he needed to be. Catching her was so much harder without her. Mac wondered if that was what she felt like when she chased him to fake-join Codex. 
A semi truck pulled into the road, blocking his view of Riley. By the time Mac skirted the truck, she was long gone, like she'd never been there at all. 
*****
“Got ‘em,” Riley said with a smirk when she finally lost their tail. Now they could get back to the important matter at hand: catching Pitt. 
Jesse’s voice crackled through Mama’s phone. “There’s an empty parking lot up ahead. We can corner him there.” 
“On it.” Riley floored the gas to get ahead and intercept him. 
Pitt took the bait, falling right into their trap. He cut through the parking lot to try and ditch Jesse and found himself blocked in by a certain oversized red truck with a woman aiming a rifle out the shotgun window. Mama shot his tires before he could try to leave. 
The man obviously knew when he lost, because with Mama aiming at him from the front and Jesse from behind, Pitt slowly got out of his car and kneeled on the ground, hands raised above his head. Grabbing the handcuffs from the truck’s glove compartment, Riley stalked toward the man and cuffed him. He was bigger than Riley expected, more muscular, and had oddly familiar calluses on his hands. Riley tucked the thought away for later and marched him to Mama’s truck. 
Mama didn’t lower her gun, but Riley wasn’t worried. Even if Pitt tried something and Mama had to shoot, Riley would be fine. Mama never missed. 
Once Pitt was secured in the backseat, Riley turned to the Colton women and grinned. That was easy.
*****
When Mac saw the red truck sitting in a nearly empty parking lot, he ran three red lights and skidded into the lot with abandon. Riley stood beside the truck with her back to him, but Mac didn’t need to see her face to know that was her; he’d recognize her posture and the shape of her body anywhere. She was chatting with two other women he couldn’t recognize from far away. 
As soon as his car came to a stop, Mac flung the door open and yelled Riley’s name. 
*****
Riley whipped her head around at the sound of her name. She did a double take when her eyes locked on Mac getting out of his truck—the same truck that had been tailing her, she realized—and running toward her. “What are you doing here?” she yelled back. 
His chest heaved, and a wild, frantic look filled his eyes. “Looking for you!” He stopped in front of her, well within her personal space. Mac reached for her arms and hesitated, waiting for her to flinch away like she’d been doing for weeks now. Instead, she softened her eyes and gave him an almost imperceptible nod. You can touch me, the look said. 
Mac’s grip on her biceps was heartbreakingly gentle. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. “You said you were kidnapped.” 
Oh. “Mac,” she said softly, “it was a joke. I’m fine.” 
She’d never seen him look as furious as he did now, yanking his hands back like she’d burned him and taking a full step backward. “A joke? Are you fucking kidding me, Riley? What was I supposed to think when I got that text? All it said was ‘I’ve been kidnapped’ with ‘kidnapped’ spelled wrong for god’s sake, and then you didn’t answer when I texted and called you back!” 
Uh oh. “How many texts did you get?” 
“What?” 
“How many texts did you get?” she repeated. “I sent you two. One right after the other.” 
A beat. “One.” 
Oh god. He never got the second, more important text. She should’ve checked her phone. Damnit. Riley wanted to hug him, but fury still radiated off Mac, so she stayed back. “I’m so sorry. I accidentally hit send instead of delete while fixing my typo. I should’ve made sure the second text went through. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” 
“When we couldn’t track your phone anymore, I—” He dragged his hands through his hair. “I thought I lost you. I was terrified I’d find you dead in someone’s trunk or thrown in a ditch somewhere. I thought I’d never get the chance to say—” No, no, no, no, not yet. Riley silently begged him not to confess yet. “—what I need to say.” She exhaled. 
Mac still hadn’t taken his eyes off her, hadn’t bothered to see who was standing behind her. “Look who’s behind me,” she gently guided. He did, and too many emotions to name crossed his face as he took in Mama and Jesse Colton. Then, before Riley knew what was happening, Mac practically tackled her, crushing her into his chest so tightly she could barely breathe. How they didn’t end up on the ground was beyond her. Riley hugged him back, murmuring apologies and reassurances into the crook of his neck. 
The only warning something was wrong was the loud squeak of one of Mama’s truck doors opening. 
“Get down!” 
Gunshots filled Riley’s ears as her back slammed into the side of the truck, and she slid to the ground. Mac crouched over her, providing cover from the bullets pinging off the asphalt. Mama and Jesse crouched behind Pitt’s car, returning fire. Fucking hell. 
“Forget to check him for weapons, did you?” Mac teased. “Who is this guy?” 
“Hector Pitt. IT guy. And I did check.” 
Mac gave her a look. “Did you check everywhere?” 
Furrowing her brow, Riley craned her neck to see Pitt shooting over the far side of the truck bed. He concentrated his fire toward the Coltons. “What do you mean ‘everywhere’? Of course I—” She glared at Mac. “I am not groping some random ass criminal on the off chance that he’s stupid enough to hide a loaded gun next to his dick.” 
“Just saying, this could have been avoided.” 
“Shut up and help me take him out already.” 
Slowly, Riley crawled into the truck’s backseat, frowning at the unlocked handcuffs on the floor. She opened the far door—the one closest to Pitt—just far enough to release the latch before laying back on the seats, pressing her feet against the door. Through the windshield, she watched Mac stroll around the front of the truck, right hand raised. Riley waited. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Trying to calm her thundering pulse. 
She didn’t dare blink. Inhale, exhale. What was taking so long? Inhale, exhale. 
Mac’s hand dropped, and Riley kicked the door open as hard as she could, and the sickening smack of metal against flesh told her it worked. Pitt’s unconscious body crumpled on the ground like a rag doll. While Mac disarmed him, Riley tied the man up with jumper cables and zip-ties before re-handcuffing him. 
Handing Pitt’s gun to Mama, Mac said, “There’s no way he’s actually an IT guy.” The women laughed.
*****
Despite their exhaustion, Mac and Riley decided to drive home instead of booking a hotel room for the night. They played Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine driving shifts; Mac got the first one. He promptly blasted his mission pump-up playlist and pointed the A/C vents directly at his face to keep himself awake.
The slivered moon did little to illuminate the dark desert highway, and headlights from oncoming cars stung his eyes. Mac’s stomach was heavy with the weight of the carne asada burrito he had for dinner and the words he still needed to say to the woman sitting in his passenger seat. He thought about saying those three little words. I love you. But now wasn’t the right time. 
When was the right time for anything? Mac honestly had no idea. 
He glanced at Riley, leaning against the window with her eyes closed. She wasn’t asleep, not with the music so loud, but Mac still envied her ability to relax so easily. He turned the music down a few notches. 
Safe. Riley was safe. In his truck, under his protection. Not that she needed his protection, per se, but Mac could breathe a little easier with the most important person in his life by his side. 
The double yellow line gave way to a passing zone, and the asshole who’d been tailing them for the last few miles sped by. Apparently fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit was too slow for them. “Fuck off,” Mac snarled. 
“Who are we telling to fuck off?” Riley cracked her eyes open. 
“The guy who just sped around me.” 
“Seems like that’s been happening to you a lot lately,” she teased. Right. In all the chaos of chasing Riley and taking out Pitt, Mac had completely forgotten about flipping her off. 
“I’m sorry.” 
Riley laughed, sitting up. “Are you kidding me? That was hilarious once I realized it was you!” 
“Glad you think so.” He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel, suddenly nervous. “Riles?” 
“Hmmm?” 
I love you. I'd be lost without you. Please don’t ever scare me like that again. 
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
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h3rmitsunited · 3 years
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You're a liar, and you ruined my life, just to have a friend. You deserve to be alone, Dirk.
Hey, I made this scene even more painful.
So, we all realize here that Todd is doing a lot of projecting onto Dirk, and that, yes, Dirk left out some details that he should have shared (which would have messed up the time loop so it couldn't have happened differently, but still), so sure, Todd could be a little bit upset, but he's mostly angry about Amanda, about his own mistakes, about not being able to go back and fix everything like he thought he would have been able to do, and he blames all of that on Dirk. We all see that, it's obvious.
Dirk is hurt, he is upset that Todd is accusing him of this, he is heartbroken that Todd doesn't want anything to do with him, but I think a huge part of his anger and frustration and sadness here comes from being labeled a liar. Because if you go back and look through the season, Dirk is not a liar. He takes very careful measures not to lie, and even in the two instances that I could find that he lied (Outside Amanda's house when he had told Todd he would wait in the car and when he said he was trained as a ninja), he immediately confesses he lied and scolds himself. You might think, well, no, I'm sure he must have lied about something else? Right? Well, not technically.
See, in episode 8, when Dirk tells Todd that he wasn't lying, he was "strategic no-truthing", that was pretty accurate... It's not the same thing. It's Dirk, answering questions with questions, it's careful avoidance, and changing the subject. He doesn't tell Todd he knows who Farah is when Gordon sends him a text with her picture, he asks Todd if he knows who she is. He blames things on hunches, he adds maybe to his no-truths ("maybe I'm a cab driver!"), and he lets the universe change the subject for him (Todd about to ask about the flag shirt and they almost get shot).
Well, okay, so Dirk doesn't really lie, but sort of does creatively-ish, but why not? Is it a moral thing, does he have some ethical dilemma with lying? I don't believe so, I mean I think Dirk knows that lying isn't a good thing to do, but he lies to Todd pretty easily in the first episode about staying in the car, though he does immediately confess to it, but we can see in some of his reactions to Todd that he doesn't really have some extreme ethical issue with lying. At the end of Episode 1, Todd tells Dirk that he stole the money back from Dorian, that he had been lying that he paid him and he still had the money, and Dirk responds, "well that seems practical!"..."But, you're okay, right?" Now, this could have been just desperate Dirk trying to get Todd on his side by any means, but it shows that he has some idea that lying could be helpful in some cases, even if it isn't ethically right or legal.
I posit a theory that Dirk has a real personal issue with him being the one that's lying, and being labeled a liar, and I feel like it definitely is something that stemmed from his childhood and upbringing. We don't have much canon information of Dirk's youth and his time in Blackwing. We get some details in the comics, but not a whole lot, but we know from Dirk's reactions in the show, that his time with Blackwing was not a good time. Consider Dirk as a child, finding things he shouldn't know where to find them, getting into trouble, getting questioned by adults about how he knew things he couldn't have possibly known, and when he tries to tell them how and why, that he doesn't understand, that he just felt like he needed to go somewhere, they say he's lying, they disregard his words, and they label him a problem child. He's eventually sent to Blackwing to be "fixed" and while there, doing experiments and tests, being told that he isn't trying hard enough, again, they say he's lying. He must know how to use his power, he's lying about trying as hard as he can, and once again they disregard his words. In the comics, we are told that our show Dirk shares an experience in college with comic and book Dirk, in which he produces an exact copy of an upcoming exam down to the typos and grammar mistake by using previous exams and papers and his "something" ability, and is discovered by the school and authorities and is arrested and jailed. Yet another instance being deemed a liar and having his words be disregarded.
We see in the show that Dirk can be very direct. He isn't shy about expressing himself when he wants to, he lets his emotions show, and he speaks a lot, even if he doesn't have much to say. But he doesn't lie. And I think he doesn't lie, not because of any moral or ethical reason, but because if he did lie, he feels like it would give people the opportunity to be right about him. He comes up with so much crazy stuff that he needs people to believe that it is true because he believes that it is true. He needs people to hear and trust his words, to be taken seriously, and to understand him as he says he is. He doesn't want to be labelled by other people, he wants to have ownership over his identity, and he isn't a liar, he isn't Project Icarus or Svlad Cjelli, he isn't dangerous. He's Dirk Gently, holistic detective, and he is honest.
So, back to the scene in 1x07, and Todd, this person that Dirk has come to know, and trust and enjoy being around, someone that he feels can sort of now understand him at least a little, who puts up with his nonsense more than anyone has, and above all, who has been by his side during the bizarre and frightening events of the past week, this person is accusing him of deliberately allowing things to happen to them all, things that hurt them and could have killed them, accusing him of hiding information, and above all of being a liar just to make a friend. And this strikes Dirk right to the core, before Todd said this, Dirk was floundering trying to reason with Todd, but when Todd calls him a liar and tells him he deserves to be alone, he lashes back in the harshest way, calling out Todd for his own hypocrisy. He immediately tries to take it back (despite it being pretty accurate, like Todd, come on, you were asking for it lol), but Todd isn't hearing it, and he tells Dirk to never speak to him again. How many times has he had this conversation with someone he thought he might get close to? How many times has he gotten his hopes up that someone might go along with him, trust him, only to be slapped back with reality and the cruelty of the universe's path?
He tries to explain in the next episode, through his blood loss and shock or having an arrow in his shoulder, that he was just strategic no-truthing, but its still a lie to Todd who is still dealing with the emotional fallout of Amanda and having to reconcile his own failings. He can't see that Dirk is trying and reaching out, asking for him to understand, until Amanda knocks some sense into him.
Their reunion at the hospital is an unspoken apology, offered and accepted by both. Todd finally accepts Dirk, he sees him in the truth that Dirk tried to express and reassures him that he'll stay by his side. And Dirk, obviously, is thrilled, hesitant and confused at first, but so happy to have found someone that understands him...as much as someone could, at this point, but accepts the truth that he had tried to give before.
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dutchforstrangers · 3 years
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I need you. Both. - A Taiorato Friendship one shot
Characters: Yamato Ishida/Matt Ishida, Taichi Yagami/Tai Kamiya, Sora Takenouchi Genre: Friendship, comfort Rating: K+ Words: 1500+
Summary: Losing a special someone will never be easy. Fortunately, we all have friends with shoulders to lean and cry on. Even when you don’t say a word, they just know they are needed.
More below, under read more! Enjoy.
A/N (feel free to not read it): For some unknown reason I found myself suddenly rewatching Digimon Kizuna (the english dub unfortunately, because I can’t find a properly version of the original with english sub - anyone who knows where to find it?) and I started wondering: what would Taichi and Yamato have done directly after losing Agumon and Gabumon? What would they say to each other? And how did they find out about Sora, who went through the same happenings on her own probably without letting anyone know... Well, here is my take on that!
Update on 27th of August 2021: So originally I wrote Sora and Yamato broken up (see fanfiction.net for the original one-shot), but after coming to terms with canon and Sorato during the past couple of months and this Kizuna meta I recently wrote, it didn’t feel right anymore. So I fixed it, Sora and Yamato are dating, but on a break (as I can totally see that happening with their personalities). 
Just to be clear, one last time: this is a Taiorato friendship! Which means all these dynamics are from a platonic point of view, even the Sorato parts.  Also fixed some typos :)
xxxxx
A cool breeze. Quiet after the storm. And the stabbing feeling of a loss.
He tried to fight his tears, burying his true feelings. In his one hand was the Digivice, petrified. He looked down on it, trembling, realizing what just had happened. With his other hand he brushed over the Digivice, then held his other hand preventing it from trembling too much. He needed to be strong. For himself, for the others. For Gabumon.
Gabumon.
Where would he be now? Yamato wondered. That thought freed the flow of tears he was failing to hide behind his eyelids. He wanted to scream. Shout. But what was the use? It wouldn’t bring his partner back. So he just stood there. Crying.
Mourning. The thoughts kept trying to fill the pit he felt in his stomach. As the crying died down because of those deep thoughts, he simply stared, following the flickering lights with his eyes. It being the only movement in front of him.
Movement. Life.
What was life? He knew for example life was not limited to earth only. There was a whole digital realm existing in between this world where he came from and the network where Gabumon had his roots. Was there even more? How far could he go? Space? Maybe space was where he should aim for. As far away as possible from here, from where he stood now. From the spot where his partner vanished.
“Yamato.”
He stood straight at attention upon hearing his name. It sounded vague and far away, though he knew it was close by. He turned around, letting his blue eyes meeting the brown ones now in front of him. He watched his companion scan the surroundings. His friend looked sad to him.
“No Gabumon?”
Yamato swallowed and shook his head, biting his lip to once again fight his feelings. The trembling made his Digivice almost fall out of his hand. He squeezed it tight and with that holding onto everything he knew. Not ready to fully let go yet.
Usually Yamato was the one far more calm and collected. Though this time, for once, it seemed like the guy who tracked him down was better at keeping his cool.
Taichi.
It was just Taichi, no yellow dinosaur following him. Yamato figured out Taichi must’ve gone through the same fate as him. Yamato wanted to be there for him, but he felt his feet stuck in his place. His legs were heavy, as was his heart. Any movement, except from trembling, seemed impossible. So he stood there, questionably looking for answers which he knew his friend neither had.
xxxxx
Yamato.
He just stood there, looking at him as if he had all the answers he wanted to hear. But he had to disappoint. He had one answer: both Agumon and Gabumon had vanished. With that their Digivices had turn into cold stone. Taichi figured out Yamato already knew that.
It had been one hour since it happened and he had been mourning since. But what Taichi knew too was that moping around wasn’t going to make things better. Besides, it wasn’t what Agumon would have wanted him to do, moping around.
Agumon.
Instead he had taken out his phone, the ring of light on the back vanished just like Agumon had. He was glad to see the phone still worked, though it looked like it was a little faded. Maybe he was seeing things. He had quickly updated the others in their group chat by sending them a picture of his petrified Digivice, then closed the chat. He did not want pity from his friends, from his sister, from the others. They did not understand.
In all probability, there was one other person who would come close to understand him. So Taichi tracked Yamato down through his GPS. As he found out his whereabouts, he silenced his phone and made his way to him. Without haste, because he knew Yamato wasn’t going far or fast for that matter, not even with that motorcycle of his. After all, he was mourning too, just like Taichi.
His feelings had been right as there was no sign of Gabumon. The only visible sign was the stone in Yamato’s hand. The same stone Taichi was carrying with him, in both his pocket and heart. Yamato looked completely lost in his feelings, emptiness overwhelming him.
Yamato turned his back again to him. Taichi’s hands balled into fists, at once feeling the urge to fight him just like the old days. Breathing in deep, that feelings quickly faded, replacing it with a sudden feeling of concern. He glanced to the blond, slowly walking towards him.
“I know how you feel,” Taichi said now standing beside Yamato, staring into the same direction. “It’ll be fine eventually. I promise.”
A careful smile appeared on Yamato’s face, making Taichi smile a little as well. It was a careful smile, but it was genuine, the feeling of concern growing bigger. Taichi placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder closest to him before gently pulling Yamato to him.  
An embrace.
Back in the days the physical contact between the two of them were mostly fights with fists, but right now, Taichi knew it wasn’t the kind of touch he needed. What they both needed. Comfort, Yamato needed his friend, a shoulder to lean on.
“I know,” Yamato mumbled as he untangled himself out of Tachi’s grip after a little while. “It still stings though.”
Taichi nodded, completely understanding him, all the while grabbing the phone out of his pocket and switching it on to check the messages out of habit. He quickly scrolled through the messages in the group chat, but decided not to answer and leave them be for now. He looked through his private messages. 
One message from his worrying mother. A missed call from a bragging classmate. Another message from…
Taichi gasped. After a brief moment he placed his hand back on Yamato’s shoulder, making him turn to face Taichi. He held the screen to Yamato.
“We need to go. There’s someone who needs us.”
xxxxx
She had been standing near the window for what felt like days, the rain falling for hours and hours. And hours more. The tears on her face joined the crying sky, but there were no tears left. She sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat.
She turned around, briefly looking at her desk filled with both clothing and flower designs. It was loaded with things she loved, but it was empty to her all the same. Then her eyes trailed further down the room to an empty pillow in the corner, one that belonged to someone very dear to her. To someone who sadly wasn’t here anymore.
Piyomon.
The name lingered in her thoughts, making Sora want to cry, but nothing came. She felt empty, like the pillow, lonely and hollow. At the same time she was thankful. Thankful for the time she could have spent with her partner.
Would she still be here if Sora had chosen to keep fighting? Would it have made a difference? Sora wondered, feeling a sting in her heart. It had to happen eventually, so why not now... Because she knew she had to grow up, especially after that message they received from Koushiro about the glowing ring, counting down the time of her partnership. Little did she know that Taichi went through the same thing at the same time.  
Somehow it was hard to imagine him growing up. Into a man. To her, he had always been her childhood friend, the one making her feel strong, young and aware. She remembered the echoing sound of the whistle earlier today, immediately connecting the sound to him. By then she knew, even after they grew apart and had barely talked to each other during the past couple of weeks or even months, he was arriving at the same place where she already was at that time. 
Partnerless.
“Honey, there’s someone for you.” Sora heard her mother from the other side of the bedroom door, snapping her out of her thoughts. She walked towards the door, sliding it open and stepping into the hallway. Her head turned ninety degrees and her eyes grew wider.
Taichi.
There he was, with his back leaning against the frame of the door, her brown haired friend, as if he knew she was thinking about him. His arms folded across the chest, his head diagonally directed to the ground. Further outside she saw the silhouette of a certain blond boy she knew all too well.
Yamato.
After Taichi had sent a picture of his petrified Digivice in their group chat, she had sent him a reply through a private message. For Sora it was important that he knew and felt he wasn’t alone. But seeing Yamato standing there, leaning against the rail of the gallery, his blue eyes ice cold, she knew that Taichi already knew he wasn’t the only one.
As wasn’t she.
A few steps. Taichi looked up as Sora walked past him. Without looking she brushed over his arm and hand for reassurance, but her focus was on Yamato. It had been a little while since she saw him last. They maintained a steady relationship in the past, but with their busy lives and studies they decided to take a little break to take things slow. Very slow, distancing from each other to focus on their own paths first. 
Of course she missed him, and she still cared for him. A lot. And he needed her, she could feel. She knew he did. Standing fully in front of him, she placed her hand on one of his shoulders, finally making him look her straight in the eyes. She smiled her most genuine but soft smile, then carefully hugged him around the neck, placing a small peck on his cheek. She felt his heartbeat slightly increase, so she held on to him until his heart calmed down again.
As she let go and stepped back, Yamato flashed her a painful smile. Sora had to swallow seeing him like that, shifting her gaze to the ground. The touch of a hand on her shoulder brought her attention back up. She had thought she had no tears left, but that one touch did the trick.
Sora swiftly turned around, throwing her arms around the waiste of the owner of the hand on her shoulder. She felt Taichi pulling her even closer as she heavily cried, wetting his shirt. But she knew he didn’t care, because in that moment all he cared for was her. And Yamato.
Stupid.
And they just stood there, the two of them. Until suddenly she felt a warmth behind her, another body becoming part of their embrace. And she knew that whenever she was sad or lonely or in need of a hug, they were there within a heartbeat. 
“I need you,” she mumbled into Taichi’s shirt.
“Both.”
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aspenflower17 · 4 years
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Finding You (Part Two of ??)
Hello again! I'm back with the second installment of my new series, Finding You, which was previously Untitled.  If you want to be tagged when I update this series, just comment below :)
 Part One Link
In this part, we finally get to Satan and what he's been doing during all this. It's not really a happy chapter. You have been warned.
I think it's important to note that I am American. In this part, there is a funeral. Since I don't know much about other cultures or religions way of holding funerals, I just wrote what I know (and that's very little actually. I've only been to two full funerals. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have). Feel free to change the story up in your head to match your own funerary customs.
As always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated and help me endure the torture that is typing up this story from my notebook 😒 I also tried to make sure the editing on here was good. Any DM's for typos or things that didn't make sense are appreciated so I can fix them (please be kind though 🙂 ). I did write some of the funeral disjointed on purpose, trying to recreate how I was feeling when I attended the funerals I did.
Tags (for you lovely people <3 ): @obey-me-trashshshshsh, @naimena
F! MC/ Satan
Word count: 3,195
Warnings/triggers: ANGST!, description of funeral, loosing someone dear to you, some violence at the end though nothing too graphic (he is the avatar of wrath after all)
Satan had felt when Mc died. His pact mark had begun to glow and heat up. A terrible rending feeling in his chest, then… Nothing. He couldn’t move, fear completely paralyzing him. No, it couldn’t be…
Then he heard Mammon scream. Then Asmo. Then Levi. Soon, the whole House of Lamentation was filled with wailing. Satan scrambled for his D.D.D, hurriedly dialing Mc. No, no, no, no, no. He had just talked to her. She’d been fine.
“Hi! This is Mc. I can’t get to the phone-”
“No… No, no, no, NO!” Satan screamed, throwing his phone at the wall. Satan sunk to his knees in a sobbing heap.
The brothers never got an answer to what exactly had happened to Mc. Diavolo had confirmed she had passed, but he couldn’t get any details since she hadn’t been sent to the Devildom. He had managed to find out when and where the funeral would be, if they wanted to go. They would only be able to attend the graveside service though, since the viewing was being held in a church. 
Each brother attended the graveside service. Satan stood stoically as the casket was brought out of the hearse. He was wondering if he would be able to get Asmo to charm everyone in attendance so he’d be able to see her face one last time, when he felt his brothers all shifting around uncomfortably. He realized the religious figure he’d tuned out was quoting scripture at the congregation, promises that Mc was now in the hands of God. He decided to tune him out again. Then the casket was being lowered. He had to be physically restrained from going out and pulling her out as the first fistfuls of dirt were being thrown on the casket. How could they do that to her? A voice murmured a reminder that she was gone, and they were just saying goodbye. Well, he needed to say goodbye too. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.
Next thing Satan knew, he was at the corner of the grave, a flower he’d had a death grip on since they had started out from the Devildom in his hand. Her favorite. A shiny wood box met his eyes from 6 feet below. Was she really there? He couldn’t feel her presence from his pact mark. Where was she? When was he going to wake up?
The other demon lords watched their brother loose the fight with his emotions. He sobbed, falling on his haunches. Six hands found a part of Satan to touch, tears in their eyes as well.
“It’s time ta let ‘er go,” Mammon’s stuffy voice came from next to him. Satan looked over to find Mammon had removed his sunglasses. His eyes and face were wet.
“I… I don’t think I can,” Satan stated, tears falling freely.
“I know. I know,” Mammon said, pulling his brother in for a hug. Each of the rest of the brothers joined in the hug, pulling the fourth and second born up with them. After a bit, they all let go, moving forward to give Mc their own token and say their last words. When Belphie had finished, Lucifer put his hand on Satan’s shoulder.
“Mc’s waiting for her flower,” Lucifer said, gesturing towards the grave. Satan nodded, and walked forward. He fiddled with the stem for a second, trying to find the words to say, “Mc… Huh, I don’t actually know what to say… I guess, I… I thought I’d find some way to be with you forever. I never thought… I’ve never felt anything like you before Mc, and I don’t think I ever will again… Please… Please, if it’s possible, come back to me. Please,” he uttered as he dropped the flower onto the casket, and walked back to his brothers. He knew everyone was looking at him, confused and curious through their sorrow. They all stayed until the end of the funeral, when Satan turned to Lucifer, “I think it might be time to go.”
“If you’re sure, that would probably be the smartest course of action,” Lucifer nodded, the humans looking questioningly at the demons. The religious man from earlier was actually making his way towards them.
“I’ll visit her later when there aren’t so many people around,” Satan stated as he started walking. The brothers exchanged looks before following him.
The next couple months were quiet at the House of Lamentation. The brothers did the bare minimum required to keep the household going. They were all absent from RAD and Lucifer even took some time off from the endless amount of paperwork he usually did, to grieve. Mc may have been dating Satan, but the rest of the brothers loved her too, and missed her greatly. The only time the brother’s saw Satan was when he was raiding the fridge, finally giving into his stomach pleading for food. He still managed to look somewhat put together, though his eyes were dead and haunted. He had retreated so far into his mind if one of them managed to get him to acknowledge their presence they counted it as a win. He was a shell of himself, and everyone was worried.
Time marches on though, and life slowly returned to normal. One day, Lucifer had gone to RAD and come home with some random paperwork that needed to be done. Another, Asmo was going out to update his wardrobe because his was terribly behind the trends. Each brother found their own way of coping. Beel eventually asked if they could all have family dinner again. They all actually made an appearance, though Satan left once he was done eating.
Though he wasn’t doing well, Satan had been visiting Mc’s grave at least once a week if not more. Lucifer had granted him access to the portal indefinitely, a gesture of kindness that did not go unnoticed. At first he just cried quietly at her grave, not able to produce a coherent sentence. It slowly evolved into him reading her her favorite books or some snatch of poetry that reminded him of her. Eventually he was able to talk freely as he once had. Sometimes it was a mixture of the three. His brothers never saw him cry though. Since Mc had been the only one that seemed to truly understand his feelings, she was the only one allowed to see him cry. Through this self therapy, Satan started to heal. He started sitting in the common room with his brothers in the evening, or snorting at some joke that had been thrown around the table at dinner.
As the years passed, Satan would still visit Mc’s grave, though the frequency dropped. He slowly learned to deal with his sorrow, just like he had with love when he’d first fallen for Mc. It was much harder, his wrath often informing his depression. She became his support again, even if she wasn’t able to respond to help him through his feelings. He always visited on her birthday, bringing her a bouquet of flowers and some small piece of literature, art or playing her some music.
One year, while reading her some Shakespeare, someone came up behind him, “She appreciates it. I know she does.”
Satan stopped reading instantly, whipping around to see a woman who looked quite a lot like Mc, “Excuse me?”
“Coming to see her every year. You have great taste in art by the way,” the woman said, sitting down besides Satan, looking fondly but sadly at the headstone.
“Um, thank you. May I ask who you are?”
“Only if I can ask you the same thing,” the woman responded, smiling at him wryly. The look was so similar to one Mc would give him, he found himself instantly trusting this woman, “I’m S… Stan,” he answered, giving the nickname Mc come up with, when he had asked if he’d ever be able to meet her family. She’d laughed when she'd thought of it, saying she could never introduce him as Satan.
“Stan? I was wondering. She met you when she took that trip out of the country right?”
“Yeah… Did she tell you about me?”
“Oh, you want me to remember that far back? Hmm… I seem to remember her talking about how smart you are, “She chuckled, her eyes far away, “I remember one time, I went in to talk to her and she was furiously reading some book. When I asked what she was reading she told me she couldn’t talk to me right then, needing to catch up to where you were in the story. It was a silly little moment, but she looked so determined… I do know she was in love with you. Though she only really told me about you shortly before she died, I remember the look in her eyes when she talked about you. Telling me about how drawn she was the moment she laid eyes on you. You know what a romantic she was. As her Mother, you can guess how excited I was to meet you, especially after watching her get her heart broken before... You’re exactly her type, you know. Tall, blonde, smart. She was even thinking of introducing you to us. Then it happened.”
Satan didn’t realize the tears were flowing until she looked over and wiped a tear away. She continued, “I was disappointed when I didn’t see anyone that matched your description during the viewing. I don't know what kept you, but I am glad you made it for the casket lowering. I was surprised to see your brothers though, if that's who they were. You all look so different… Anyways, I’m sure she would've loved the intrigue you brought to her service. A handsome stranger, distraught at the thought of life without her. She always did love big, dramatic displays of affection.”
“You remember me from the funeral?”
“Who could forget? It became a topic of conversation in our family once we could all talk about her without crying. Who was that blonde guy? Why wasn’t he at the viewing? Who were the other men he was with? Did she secretly get married while she was out of the country? So many theories, each one more ludicrous then the last. It seems her best friend and I were the only ones to connect the dots as to your identity.”
“Ah. I’m a little embarrassed now,” Satan admitted sheepishly.
“Don’t be. I was extremely bitter after the funeral for a long time. How could my beautiful daughter be taken away from me? Parents were never meant to outlive their kids. I’ve never understood the reason people take photographs at funerals. Most of the time, there’s so much makeup caked onto the body they’re almost unrecognizable. There’s a photo of you from the funeral I actually saved though. You’re looking at the casket with such a look of longing and loss, just waiting for her to come back to you. That photo actually brought me a lot of peace after she was gone. Your look perfectly encapsulated how I felt at the time. It also helped me to know she was able to know that much love before she left. I never want you to feel embarrassed for showing that kind of love to my daughter.”
" She is and always will be the only one for me.”
Mc’s mother laughed, “Oh, you’re still young and quite handsome. You’ll find someone else. In fact, you don’t look like you’ve aged a day from the first time I saw you. You must’ve made some kind of deal with the devil,” she joked.
“Ah. Very funny. Yes. A deal with the devil. Haha.”
Mc's mother looked at him, slightly concerned, "Well, it seems I've made things awkward. I’ll leave you two alone now.”
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to leave on my behalf,” Satan protested.
“It’s alright. I live close by, and I come and visit fairly often. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Good night, Stan”
“Good night, and… thank you.”
Mc’s mother smiled at him and walked away.
“Well, Mc, I guess I have your mother’s approval now,” Satan joked, turning back to his Shakespeare.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Remind me why we’re here again,” Satan said, only slightly interested in the antics Mammon was trying to drag him into.
“Tryin’ to get some sucker… er, customer ta part with their Grimm, obviously,” Mammon explained, leaning back in his chair and turning to face Satan and Belphie.
“What does that have to do with us?” Belphie mumbled, eyes more closed than open.
“Well, everythin’! You two are super smart, so I need ya ta…” As Mammon continued talking, Satan wondered, not for the first time, if Mammon actually ever intended to make money with his schemes, or if he had simply found a way to work through his sin without causing too many problems. He had to understand how likely his plans were to fail… Right?
A bump on his shoulder announced Belphie had fallen asleep. Since Mc had helped him work through some of the trauma he had held onto since Lilith’s death, Belphie had gotten comfortable with his brothers again, growing especially close with Satan, their mutual dislike of Lucifer giving them something to bond over. When Mc had died, Satan had found Belphie to be the most supportive of his brothers. Though they'll lost had lost Lilith, Satan had found Belphie the most sympathetic to what he was going through.
“Oi! Listen when I’m talkin’ ta ya! Ya both younger than me, so you shouldn't really show me more respect.”
Belphie lifted his head, and rolled his eyes, “Mammon, do you really want me to do you a favor? How about this? Maybe, don’t explain how you’re going to con people in front of those you want to con.”
Mammon looked around worriedly, finally noticing the glares he was getting, before rounding on Belphie, “I was just explainin’ the plan ta ya and Satan cuz ya both asked again! If ya didn’ wan’ an explanation, ya shouldn’ have asked!”
Belphie was about to retort, when he got a self satisfying smirk, “Oh, dearest big brother, looks like you’ve got your first customer.”
Mammon went pale, turning around slowly to find a demon about as tall as Lucifer staring Mammon down, obviously angry.
Very interested in how Mammon was going to worm his way out of this one, Satan turned to say something to Belphie when he caught sight of a familiar hat. 
“Belphie, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn’t that Luke?”
“Hmm? You mean the chihuahua?... Oh, I think it is. Why do you suppose he’s here? I never heard we were getting any visitor."
"It's a little terrifying just how much you know. You're like Asmo that way."
"It's not my fault everyone just assumes I'm sleeping while they're talking."
"Belphie, you know enough, I think you store information while you're asleep."
"Huh… I'd never thought of that before… Who’s that other angel with him?”
“I don’t know… She kinda looks familiar though, don’t you think?”
Belphie looked over at him, arching an eyebrow, “Do you know any angels younger than Luke?”
“Well, no, but… She just looks so familiar.”
“I guess… Hey, you’re missing Mammon squirm.”
“You watch and enjoy. I’m going to go talk to them,” Satan said, clearly distracted, as he got up out of his seat.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a large body planted itself in front of Satan. The demon was tall, but so was Satan. He was able to look him right in the eyes.
“What’s it to you?”
“You’re with the guy that was going to scam us right?”
“You were actually going to fall for his scheme? Really? Well, the first step to getting the help you need is admitting you have a problem. Now, move. I’ve got places to be.”
“Not so fast Princess. You’re not getting away that easy,” the demon put out his hand and grabbed Satan’s shirt.
Satan looked down at the offending hand, and then at the demon, his horns already starting to sprout, “I’d suggest you unhand me if you want to keep your kneecaps.”
The demon laughed, a cocky smile on his face, “Ya think just cuz you’re an elite ya can take me? What makes you so special huh? Ya just think ya so great, just because ya pretty. Am I right?”
The rest of Satan’s demon form appeared, his eyes glowing, a menacing aura surrounding him, “No. I know I can take you because I’m the Avatar of Wrath. Maybe, if you weren’t such a dunce you’d have noticed that,” and with that Satan grabbed his hand in a bone crushing grip. The demon started yowling, trying to twist out of his grasp. It only made Satan increase the pressure. He leaned in right next to the demon’s ear, “Next time you pick a fight, understand who you’re dealing with first.”
He swept the demon’s legs out from under him, and put him in a wrist lock submission hold. The demon was now yelling for mercy, desperately trying to break Satan’s hold. Satan looked around to see if he could still see Luke, but realized quickly that wasn’t going to be possible. Both of his brother’s were currently dismantling whatever demon had decided to pick a fight with them. The rest of the area had erupted into chaos, most demon’s running away. No one wanted to be around when one of the Avatar’s were fighting, much less three! A couple idiots were trying to get in on their fight though.
Sighing, Satan leaned down again, “Well, well, well. Looks like you’re losing your kneecaps today.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Satan muttered to himself, picking up bits of trash that had been left by the fleeing demons. Because of his involvement in the fight, he had to clean up the entire park. Trying to explain to Lucifer he'd been trying to walk away apparently didn't help when you'd put five demons in the hospital before he'd shown up to stop you.
“Well, Lucifer, if you could’ve just kept your cool, you’d still be prancing around with Simeon and Michael up in the Celestial Realm, making friendship bracelets, painting each other little rocks and braiding each other’s hair as you giggle about how… Huh?” Satan crouched down, noticing a small foot peeking out from a pile of leaves. Moving around to the other side of the pile, he saw it was the small angel that had been with Luke.
Up close, the feeling he'd met her before was even stronger. She looked so familiar, but he knew he’d never seen her before. The youngest angel he’d ever met was Luke. Maybe she was from the foggy memories of Lucifer’s he still had? That was forever ago though. She should've grown up quite a bit by now...
His musings were interrupted as the small angel moving. She winced as she sat up, holding her head, “Wha… What happened? Luke? Where are you?, then noticing Satan, “Oh, hello there. I’m sorry, but could you help me find my big brother?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part Three Link
38 notes · View notes
blackevermore · 3 years
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x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain
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{ Chapter 11 }
Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.
Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!
Word Count: 3399
P.s: I’m lowkey in love with Kate....
Vlad should have known Miss Way would have a way with words as he held the phone between his cheek and shoulder. She was currently stuck at the airport as her flight had been delayed twice to Virginia but somehow her luggage was already heading there.
“With all due respect Kate, why did you feel the need to call and inform me of this?” Vlad took hold of the phone and smirked, not like he minded the call but honestly it was pointless.
“I felt the need to tell the man who was paying for this. I didn’t want you calling me and asking me how things were going if I was still stuck here.” Vlad could have sworn he heard a snicker through her monotone voice. “This could have been avoided if you allowed me the ride on your jet. Or are assistants not allowed there?”
“Actually the jet was due for a recall repair, that’s why I booked you a first class ticket.”
“Whoa is me, billionaires are liars, very well, but I did think it was best to call and tell you, Sir.” Kate huffed on the other side of the phone and Vlad could hear her pulling the phone away to talk to someone else. Then she pulled the phone back sounding a bit happier but still emotionless. “Oh well, I guess calling you did the trick. I should have told them I was your daughter or something earlier. My flight is in 30 minutes so I will be arriving in Virginia at 9 pm, our time.” Vlad turned to the clock in his office amazed at how fast time had flown by today. It was nearly seven in the evening and Vlad had yet to actually talk to Tayonna.
Speaking of the ghost he looked over to her and she still sat quietly in the chair gripping the fabric of her dress. She looked lost in thought staring towards the ground and Vlad felt the tug at his heart. He quickly turned away and realized Kate was still talking to him.
“Did you hear a word I said?” Kate asked.
“I’m afraid not, I’m currently working on loose emails and documents. You wouldn’t mind repeating yourself?” Vlad cleared his throat and looked down at the real documents he left unfinished days before. He groaned as the lie became reality and picked up his red pin to actually start working.
“I said I will report back to you after I visit the state records office.” Kate sighed and Vlad could only imagine she was rolling her eyes and slowly tapping her foot.
“Very well, thank you once again, Miss Way, Good night.” Vlad hung up the phone with a click and sighed, he undid the first two buttons on his shirt and fixed his hair before settling back into his chair. In due time he had gotten lost in his work rereading due days and trade off agreements with typos a young intern had made. How could anyone actually have these documents looked over twice before being handed to their boss and not caught certain mistakes? 
Vlad finished up marking down a document and putting it back in a folder to be sent back to the office to be rewritten. Tomorrow he was going to have to sit down with the writing team and remind them that business had no room for typos. Especially for ones that make it to his desk and he catches them. He wasn’t an overly strict boss with no sense of morality, not anymore at least, but he took the presentation of business very seriously. 
“You always work so hard Vladan, you’ll always be so stressed.” Tayonna spoke and it made Vlad look up in confusion. First off, his name was not Vladan and he wasn’t sure how many times he would have to tell her that. And second, working himself hard was the only way things ever got done.
“Miss Tayonna I’ve told you countless times I am not Vladan.” Vlad deadpanned her and shook his head before looking back down. Tayonna's face twisted in confusion then dropped as she turned away once more. Vlad noticed and it piqued his curiosity, did he look so much like the man she called him? Every time they locked eyes or she looked at him she always saw someone else before it melted away. Every sour interaction they had was due to the red mist showing up and Tayonna wasn’t truly attacking Vlad but whatever that thing was. Even back at the pond, he understood now the red mist was her target and had tried to find safety in him.
“You look so much like him...so much like him,” Tayonna whispered in sadness, she brought a leg up to rest her head against and that’s when Vlad noticed she was barefoot. He wanted to tell her off for sitting inappropriately in a very expensive chair like some child. But it was best for him to bite his tongue and swallow it, hopefully, if she was going to be sticking around he could teach her to sit properly. Vlad put down his pen and crossed his fingers in front of his face.
“My name is Vladimir but I much rather you call me Vlad.” Vlad told himself he couldn’t really need to be on a first name basis with the ghost if he was going to get rid of her quickly. What would it matter when this was all over and he could get back to his normal life? When he put her to rest would she just go back into the Ghost Zone or would her core fizzle out and she finally passes on? Vlad wasn’t sure, maybe that’s why he told her his corrected name, just in case she was to be another core floating around at least she knew who he was.
“Vlad?” Tayonna finally looked back up to him with disheartening eyes. “He would have been so upset if someone called him that.” Vlad could see she almost wanted to laugh but she held it back through a broken weak smile.
“Well I get upset when someone says my full name spitefully. I am not him so please try to correct yourself from now on.” Vlad gave her a coy smile, then rose from his chair with a crack in his back. It was well into the night and he could feel the need for a shower and sleep nagging at him. Checking the clock again it was only 8:30 and he grumbled as he could hear the children mocking him from miles away of being an old man. He wasn’t old, maybe not physically, he could stay up if he wanted to, but the way his sheets felt after a long day told him it was best to just be old mentally. If he wanted his beauty sleep he very much was going to have it.
“I think it’s best we try and talk in the morning, for now let's head to bed.” Vlad said calmly and held out his hand for her due to habit. Tayonna didn’t take it and stood up to follow him. Ghost didn’t actually need sleep, Vlad of course knew that, to a degree nor did he if he stayed in his ghost form. He had done so many times while studying the Ghost Zone on endless night trips. He found that as a ghost he could do a lot more with himself than being a human. That also includes eating, though ghosts did have their own form of eating. They fed off energy and raw forms of ectomatter. Out of curiosity Vlad had tried it and actually liked it, it did help him feel a lot more energized but he much rather preferred his home cooked meals that awaited him.
“Pray tell, would you be hungry by chance?” Vlad looked over his shoulder at Tayonna and the girl shook her head no. Vlad Hummed and continued out the office and towards the grand stairs. He led the way to the guest room Tayonna had been in and the girl became hesitant to go in. Vlad sighed and rubbed his temple and shook his head. “I’m not locking you in here, this is just where you will be staying for the time being. Unless you wish to go back to your little pond.”
“No!” Tayonna snapped back and lowered her head quickly before moving past Vlad and into the room. Vlad knew that everything around her seemed so weird. She was from the past and had no idea what the 21st century was like. She could be curious but he doubts she would go snooping around. Vlad let out a yawn and that seemed to be contagious as Tayonna did the same. The girl then rubbed her eyes and blinked a couple of times. Vlad felt his core grow hot for a moment then die down as he looked upon her. Tayonna walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, she felt the comforter and then the sheets and that seemed to surprise her. Guess she never thought she would ever sleep on silk.
“You are more than free to roam around the house if you don’t find yourself tired. Though I would advise you didn’t and stayed soundly in your room. Goodnight.” Vlad grabbed the door handle and began to close the door. However, he only got it half way as he felt the need to hear her say it back. He never allowed anyone to finish their farewells unless it was Dani or even Maddie. He would normally say his and be on his way like hell was hot on his heels. But holding the door handle and standing so still he almost longed to hear it from Tayonna. 
When he realized she wasn’t going to say it he lifted his hand and left, leaving the door still half open. Once he made it to his room and slid through the giant doors. He ran his fingers through his hair knocking out his ponytail. His white locks fell to his shoulders and the few stands of black fell right in front of his eyes. He took hold of it and twirled it around before pushing it back and heading to the shower. At least tonight he hoped he wouldn’t have any more of those dreams or memories or whatever they have been. Vlad was certain he would rather dream of taking Maddie out on a lovely romantic date, than being dragged along for whatever Tayonna was doing.
  Vladan held his breath as he watched Luther and Tayonna in the garden harvesting vegetables. The summer had finally begun and the crops his family grew were already growing with pride. So much so his father became worried it was too good to be true. Of course his mother assured him that he had bought a good patch of land and should be happy. Vladan however knew the truth. The truth was 5 feet tall and 6 inches long and never wore the shoes given to her even when she walked through the house. Vladan wanted to tell someone what he found out, or even confront his brother about allowing a witch into the house. Surely he was mad! Being from the German empire meant their parents were very religious and held the name of god in good faith. Unlike Vladan, Luther tended to do the same, haven’t reached the age of understanding his own faith in the world. Maybe this was his silent rebellion?
“He has grown close to her,” the gentle voice of his mother pulled Vladan away from the window hastily. He dropped the curtain and the woman only giggled before pulling it back and tying it to the wall. She looked out and glazed upon her youngest and the servant then hummed. “But it is best if he doesn’t become too attached to her, that is not acceptable neither here or at home.” Vladan looked back through the window trying to see what his mother saw but all he could focus on was Tayonna.
“How did she end up here?” Vladan asked. Tayonna told him but he preferred to hear it from someone else. Maybe the girl had been lying and used her magic to trick them.
“We were passing through the town square when we noticed an auction. Your father told us to ignore it as he was almost done and we would be heading back home. But your brother, as sick as he was, snuck off and got closer to the platform and held up his hand to bid. I tried to stop him but he had this look in his eyes that told me to trust him. We already have two servants at home I told him but he shook his head and said we needed another. Within a few minutes, your brother pointed out towards that girl and bought her. Luckily she already knew English so there was no trouble in getting her along and she came with a name.” Vladan’s mother wrapped her shawl around herself tighter with a worried expression.
“I thought we do not fair in that business like the English?” Vladan whispered beside his mother as he continued to watch the girl outside hard at work. She would occasionally hand Luther her basket and the boy would hurry off to empty it. Vladan finally broke away from the window and looked down at his mother. Over the years he wasn’t sure if he had gotten taller or she had become smaller.
“We don’t, Luther knows that but still, he insisted he buy her. Your father was confused but allowed it. I will say having her around almost feels magical, she is very obedient and polite. And my garden is always in full bloom even after a storm.” Vladan’s mother smiled as she continued to speak about her flowers and how much she loved them. Vladan drowned her out as he turned back towards the window and continued looking at Tayonna. Just then the girl straightened her back and held her basket in hand and her bright green eyes stared right back at him. He felt his breath slip away once more.
  Vlad wasn’t too sure if allowing a ghost to stay at his home while he was gone was a good idea. Let alone a ghost he couldn’t be too sure would even want to stay. Sipping his coffee he hadn’t the slightest idea where she was. When he went to the guest room she wasn’t there, he checked around elsewhere but still no sign of her. Before long Vlad found himself in the kitchen. He should have been on high alert considering she could be breaking something. But oddly enough he was calm and told himself after he had his coffee he would call for her. As his cup started to run low he lowered his eyes and hummed, it was rather quiet with Dani being away. 
He was ready to hear some outrageous comment about how impatient she was for the summer to get here or about some crazy dream she had. Or he could have asked her why she missed her 4th period class yesterday as he was informed with a phone call. Vlad smirked and thought of all the excuses she could come up with within five seconds. His thoughts came to a close as he peered up to the clock to check the time and saw he only had 20 minutes to spare before having to hustle out the door. 
He supposed now was a good time to go look for Tayonna and give her the rundown he still wasn’t too sure about. He could call Skulker to come to watch her but Vlad knew the way the tech ghost ran off from the lip would cause a fight. Vlad was about to walk out of the kitchen until something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He turned around to look out the bay windows and that's where he found Tayonna sitting in his garden. 
She had her knees pulled up to her chest as she held a few flowers in her hand. She still wore that sad expression on her face that seemed to never go away. Vlad walked over to the window and tapped it and signalled for her to come in. Next to the windows were sliding doors which must have been the way she got out. Vlad opened the door as she got closer and moved out the way when she stepped inside. He looked down and saw that her feet weren’t dirty.
“Miss Tayonna I have to go out for a while and as much as I wouldn’t like to leave you here, I have to. I would prefer if you stayed in your room until then but if you wish to venture outside you can keep yourself busy. Or if you wish you may go to the Ghost Zone.” Vlad fixed his bowtie and straightened out his shirt as he spoke making sure he looked ready to conquer the day.
“I can’t go back there,” Tayonna said and looked down at her hands as if they were still something so abnormal to her. “I’ll stay here.” Tayonna then reached a hand up to her neck towards the collar and huffed as she was reminded of its existence.
“Very well, but please refrain from being too curious while I’m gone. When I return we shall work on whatever it is that keeps you restless.” Vlad nodded his head towards her then began to walk out of the kitchen. He grabbed his suit jacket and double checked himself in the full length mirror before grabbing his keys and ghosting out the door. This time there was no goodbye or see you later. Tayonna slowly walked out the kitchen and stared at the door. 
Vlad had no idea that she already tried to leave during the night while he slept. But the pain in her core felt like it started to burn every time she walked further away from the house. She then noticed when the moon was high in the sky above her, her skin started to crack and break away like ashes. In a panic she stumbled back to the mansion. She had managed to make it back to his property before the moon fell back behind the horizon and the sun began to wake. She fainted in the garden and when she finally woke up she was laying in a bed of roses.
Tayonna felt completely at the mercy of a man who shared the face of someone long ago. If this damn collar wasn’t around her neck she would feel a bit safer. But for now all she could do was whatever he asked for and hope another tragedy didn’t await her. Tayonna started towards the stairs to go back to the room given to her. As she climbed the stairs she felt a hand touch her back and it scared her. She turned around and stumbled up the stairs as she saw the red mist and a hand reaching for her again. Without her powers she was completely helpless and that made the pit in her stomach fill with terror. The mist started to swirl into itself then shape into a person. Tayonna’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head.
“Get away from me! Go away!” Tayonna yelled through tears and stumbled up the stairs a bit more before finally finding her footing and making it the rest of the way. She finally found the hallway and ran inside the room. She pulled back the blankets on the bed and dove under them.
“Go away....please go away...stop touching me.” She cried and hoped the mist didn’t follow her. She felt like a child while hiding but there was something comforting about being completely hidden. She wouldn’t dare stick her head out to see if the mist was above her or if she got away from it. For now, she would stay here the whole time. A few blocks away Vlad sat at a red light and felt the tug on his core that something was wrong. He passed it off as heartburn as the light turned green and drove to work.
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Demons - D. Malfoy
Warning: VERY BRIEF MENTION OF SELF HARM
It is currently 1:46 AM here in Sydney, and my eyes are hanging out of my head but here we are. I apologize for any tired typos.
The lovely @starshonerose and I adore Mr Malfoy (who totally deserved a redemption but yknow) and my Slytherin ass just HAD to write something for Draco based off of Demons by Imagine Dragons.
Hope my fellow Potter Heads enjoy.
And to all of my followers, love you and goodnight.
Original story by Sarcastically-defensive17
His shaky hands grasped the porcelain basin. He fought his eyes to remain forward, but every time he glanced in the direction of his arm the toxic symbol stared back at him.
He was forever marked, and there was nothing he could do to defy the branding. Nor could he defy the dark lord.
His grey eyes stared back at him, and he felt sick as he spotted the red veins that stretched across the white of his eyes. They stood out in stark contrast to the purple circles underneath the orbs.
His skin was more pale than usual, almost blending in to his white blonde hair, and in that moment he could only think of two things.
One: how much he hated his father, and two: how determined he was to keep her away from this nonsense.
If he was to go to his death because of his fathers choices then he would do that on his own. He wouldn’t drag Y/N into it and risk the Dark Lord getting his hands on her.
She was too pure.
When the days are cold, and the cards all fold, and the saints we see are all made of gold.
He was surrounded by people who worshipped Voldemort. People who wanted to eradicate all of impure blood and who believed Wizards were superior to Muggles.
He thought the same until she came along.
She was the most interesting Half-Blood he had ever met, and he was enamored by her almost as soon as she sat next to him in Potions the previous year.
He had seen her in the Slytherin common room and in other classes, but he had his head metaphorically shoved too far up his arse to know anything other than his self-absorbed nonsense.
Now, he was her light while everyone around him hailed the worst wizard of all time.
When your dreams all fail and the ones we hail are the worst of all, and the blood's run stale.
Soft footsteps echoed behind him. He knew who it was before even casting a look in the direction.
Of course she would find him, after all, she had access to the prefects bathroom as much as he.
“Draco? Darling?” Her soft voice echoed off of the tiles, and he felt his body relax at the sound of her. He almost turned to her, but he realized the mark on his arm was close to being in her view.
If she stepped closer, or looked in the mirror at the right angle, she would see what he wanted to keep hidden.
“I’m fine, Y/N.” He was short with her. He hoped maybe, if he angered her enough she would leave.
Maybe she would leave him. Then it would hurt her less when he met his fate.
He was a death eater after all.
He could selfishly cast her away to make things easier for himself, or he could push her away to save her the pain of losing him.
If she would feel the pain at all.
I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you but with the beast inside, there's nowhere we can hide. No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed.
She inches closer to him and he made the move to hide his arm from her sight, moving his hands quickly to reef his sleeves down to his wrists.
“Darling, you can always talk to me,” he jumped as she places a soft hand on his shoulder. “Always.”
Her touch sent his nerves alight, and he could feel the warmth spreading through his body. It was a calming heat, unlike the near constant burning that erupted under his branding.
He could always find comfort in her presence.
If only he didn’t feel the need to defy the Dark Lord. Then he wouldn’t be expecting death.
This is my kingdom come, this is my kingdom come.
He couldn’t stop his body from jolting away from her warmth. It felt unnatural. It felt selfish.
How could he allow himself to revel in her presence when he knew he is hurting her in the long run.
Her mother is a muggle born. The same type of people his father is hell bent on eradicating along side Voldemort.
He isn’t worthy of being around somebody so perfect.
He turned away from her hurt expression, but he could see her lower her hand slowly in the reflection of the mirror.
“Please leave,” he choked out, blinking tears out of his eyes.
She pinched her brows together, walking around to his front and placing her hand on his arm again. Only for it to be shaken off.
When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It’s where my demons hide; it’s where my demons hide.
He couldn’t bear to meet her eyes. He knew that she could tell he wasn’t okay by his appearance alone but one look into his red rimmed orbs and he would break down. She could always see through the window of his soul.
“Draco, please,” she was begging.
“I need you to go. Please.” When she didn’t move, he knew he needed to try harder. He clenched his jaw, daring to look into her eyes. Her face dropped. “I want you to go. I don’t want you near me.”
She placed her hands on either side of his face, laughing as if he told her a secret joke, “Is this another one of your tricks. Tell me what is wrong, my love. You look like you’ve been crying for hours.”
Don't get too close; it's dark inside. It's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide.
“There is nothing wrong. Why do you never listen?” He snapped.
Guilt swelled in his stomach as she recoiled. Any other girl would let their eyes pool with tears if he snapped at them. Many girls had many times before in the past.
“I’m trying to listen. Why won’t you tell me what is wrong?” Her voice was strong. She was a true slytherin.
She didn’t buckle under pressure. She didn’t give up easily. She was the strongest woman he knew and he adored every aspect of her fiery personality.
He knew he needed to get her to walk away from him. He needed to make her hate him, so when the dark lord grew tired of him or found out that he loves the daughter of a mudblood, she will be less affected.
“The only thing that is wrong with me, is you.” For the first time, he saw her face shift in emotion. “You’re suffocating me. You’re too needy.”
He was venomous. Y/N’s eyes glazed over before hardening.
“I can’t stand to be around you,” he practically snarled at her but she knew his eyes told a different story completely. He was hiding something, and she was determined to get the truth out of the man.
“You don’t mean that,” he turned to walk away from her, but he tended completely when she clasped her hand around his forearm.
A sharp hiss escaped his lips, and tears flooded his eyes as the burning intensified at her touch.
At the curtain's call it's the last of all. When the lights fade out, all the sinners crawl. So they dug your grave and the masquerade will come calling out at the mess you've made.
He always appeared so strong and stoic on the outside, but he allowed her to get to know him. She could see right through him, and at the moment he regretted it so much.
“Draco?” Her time was accusatory and as he turned to face her he couldn’t contain his emotions any more.
“Im sorry. I’m so sorry,” the tears held in his eyes began to cascade down his porcelain cheeks.
Y/N busied her hands with his sleeve, raising it up to determine if there was an injury of some kind. Her mind raced to the worst scenario, expecting to find self inflicted wounds.
Instead, she found something just as bad.
A gasp left her lips and she dropped his arm from her fingers, choosing instead to cover her mouth in fear.
Draco’s knees crumpled underneath him and he let himself collapse on the ground, sobs shaking his body violently.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to, I didn’t want it. They made me. They made me do it. They made me do it,” his words blended together, the tone wet through his sobs.
Don't wanna let you down, but I am hell-bound. Though this is all for you, don't wanna hide the truth. No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed...
She lowered herself to the ground, wrapping her arms around his shoulder delicately.
She shushed him in a soft manner, “it’s okay, Draco. It’s okay.”
“You should hate me,” he sobbed against her shoulder, staining her uniform with tears. “I want you to hate me. I need you to not care about me.”
“What did you mean?” She received no answer, so she placed her hands on either side of his - now blotchy - face and raised his head to be level with hers. “You didn’t choose this, Draco.”
“No, but I said yes to what they want me to do. But I can’t do it.”
She fixed her eyes on his grey ones. It was almost as if she could see the internal demons floating through ever bloodshot vein in his stunning eyes.
“What do they want you to do?” Her heart stalled forever a minute in anticipation.
“Kill Dumbledore,” more tears fell. “But I can’t do it. They’re going to kill me if I don’t, Y/N.”
This is my kingdom come, this is my kingdom come.
The time had passes by quickly, and Draco stood opposite the man he was tasked with killing. His wand was heavy in his palm, and with each second the branding on his arm burned with a more intense ferocity than before.
The Dark Lord had his claws sunken in the boy and there was no escape.
They say it's what you make, I say it's up to fate. It's woven in my soul, I need to let you go. Your eyes, they shine so bright, I wanna save that light. I can't escape this now, unless you show me how.
Y/N stood by his side, just out of his view. He didn’t know she would be there with him, as he had specifically asked her to stay away.
He wanted to preserve the light within her as long as he possibly could. Even if she refused to leave him after he commits the most important murder known to the Wizarding World.
She watched as Draco battled with himself. She knew he didn’t want to kill the headmaster who had provided him an escape from his torturous family for so many years.
Dumbledore had been a mentor and a confidant for the boy, and it would kill him to take his life.
Draco raised his wand, and she could see his hand shake.
They could both hear the death eaters begin to scale the steps, and if they saw Draco hesitate then it would not be good for her Love.
Instead, she made a decision that would seal her fate alongside Draco’s forever.
When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide.
She raised her wand, cedar wood, 10”, and muttered the most unforgivable of all the curses.
“Avada Kedavra,” green light emerged from the tip of her wand, and she fought back tears as it struck the chest of her headmaster.
The older man fell backwards, gravity taking his body down.
Don't get too close; it's dark inside. It's where my demons hide.
She did it for him. She knew she would never be able to forgive herself, but so long as it didn’t add to the large burden plaguing Draco’s conscience, then she could handle it.
So long as his demons were easier to manage.
“I love you,” she whispered through her tears, holding the blonde boy close as they wept for the death that was on their hands.
“I love you, too,” Draco replied.
No matter how hard he tried, Y/N would stick by him.
She would battle his demons for him, despite her own taking control.
it's where my demons hide
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sparklingpax · 4 years
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Tales From Iacon - Part 3: Understanding
A/N:
-Part 1, Part 2
-I also have a wattpad where I’m posting updates as well as other stories! (user is @/kunixjiro)
-Lol so after an actual eternity I finally resolved this,,,sorta,,,,sorry for the wait ^^’’
-Sorry if this is badly written (and for any typos, mistakes, weird phrasings, etc)
-This one’s long too O//O’’ oops....^^’’
-Please forgive me for constantly making up bots to fill roles I need in stories lolo I,,,I promise I’ll figure out a better way to do that,,,,, :’D
-Oh, and apologies if anyone was ooc >//< 
-And yes I cut it off before the encounter because I’m mean >:D and because it’s not done being edited but I really really really wanted to post the next part of this story tonight so anyway, here we are ^^’’
-Ahhh....and with that, I guess, enjoy!!! <3
///
Weeks had passed since Orion and Megatronus had parted.
           Megatronus had fought more battles at the rink. Since then, a familiar ache had set into his bones, making him wonder why every fight seemed duller than the last. Yet, for the crowds that surrounded him most nights, he put on his best show. Judging by the sounds of their cheers, he had done a good job at that.
           Though, at his spark, their cheers felt distant and faded.
           Why was it such a big deal, that the archivist did not wish to see you fight?
           When he was alone, the thought came to bother him, to almost taunt him for being so…dramatic. For a moment, he’d justify himself, but Megatronus quickly came to see that Orion had come with only good intentions.
           What I lacked was understanding, a grand flaw I have yet to fix, it seems.
           Parts of him wished he could forget about Orion…but most of him wished only to see his friend again—to say to him it was all ok. The last thing he’d wanted was to scare his friend away…and he’d done just that.
           All of him wondered…could Orion ever forgive him for being so childish?
///
Orion Pax had continued his work and studies. He spent his days working around the building, organizing, and filing one thing after another. At night, the young archivist studied until he couldn’t keep his optics open any longer. He worked tirelessly at his projects, writing papers with much fervor.
           Yet deep down, he felt an emptiness. Sadness and guilt continued to weigh on his spark.
           Orion wished more and more with each passing day, that he had kept silent. Had Megatronus been angry at him, he wouldn’t have minded…but the rejection that shone so clearly in his gaze…
             Orion could scarcely bear the thought as it came to distract him every now and then. Still, the young bot kept a small hope alive in his spark.
             Primus willing—he thought, setting down a box of old files—I’ll see him soon. Maybe then, I can fix things…I only hope that time has done its work.
             Almost without thinking, Orion moved towards a window, to gaze absent-mindedly at the stars dotting the sky—sparkling from afar, mildly, elegantly.  He had realized only in these past weeks that Megatronus was someone special to him…
             A friend I…do not wish to lose if I can help it.
///
             “Orion, are you in here?”
             The young bot looked up from his holopad, hearing a voice from outside the door, abruptly torn from a riveting story about—
             “Yes, Alpha Trion,” he left his desk and made his way to the door. It was quite odd that his teacher should come by at such an hour, but all the same, Orion offered no argument.
             He stepped outside to find his mentor already slowly walking down the hall. Before he could inquire about anything, Alpha Trion lifted an arm to silence him, not even turning to do so.
             “Walk with me, my student.”
             Without a word, Orion followed the master archivist, quickening his pace until he had come up beside him.
             In silence, they walked for a few minutes. Then, as if sensing Orion’s curiosity, Alpha Trion chuckled softly. His optics sparkled with gentleness, serenity, and boundless wisdom.
           Orion had always thought that—even from the first moment he’d laid eyes on his mentor, when he arrived at the door to Iacon.              
           “Orion, my student,” he began, “I am sorry to have interrupted your recreational free time.” To that, Orion gave a polite smile.
           “It was no trouble at all, master.”
           Alpha Trion hummed to himself and nodded. “I just wanted to let you know that I notice you have been working hard. Therefore, I wish to allow you a break.”
           The surge of excitement was quickly deflated once Orion quickly remembered that such free time was not of much use to him…as he no longer had anyone to meet…and nowhere to go, really.
           Sure, it was nice to read—which was usually what Orion enjoyed doing when he had the time. But since he’d met Megatronus, the prospect of hanging out with him was far more exciting than any of the tales spun in his books.
           His friend was much like a tale unto himself….
           “However, you cannot really use that time for much, right?”
           Orion’s spark skipped a beat at his mentor’s words. He halted, staring at the floor. His teacher continued on a few steps before he, too, stopped.  
           That’s right…and I have only…myself to thank for that…
           As if hearing his thoughts, Alpha Trion turned to him and drew close, placing one servo on the young scholar’s shoulder. His eyes shone with something wistful…something Orion couldn’t really put into words.
           “Young spark, listen to me.”
           “I am.”
           “The details of the situation are beyond my knowledge, but I only wish to say one thing. I sense that you know this, but you must fix whatever has happened between you and your friend. I know not his name, nor what caused the evident rift in your relationship. However, I do understand…”
           A pure sadness—some kind of deep regret—passed over his gaze, shimmering faintly.
           “I understand what it means to lose a friend, to wish only that you’d done or not done one thing or another. To wish you’d not let it all happen…that you could go back in time and do it all over.”
           He stared to his right. Following his gaze, Orion set his optics on the gorgeous mural hanging on the wall. In silence, he studied the painting—an artist’s depiction of the Thirteen Primes, all in harmonious glory and power. Not moving his eyes either, Alpha Trion spoke once more.
           “Eventually, time comes and takes from us. So, cherish what is meant to last for the moment, and replenish whatever you can. I believe you know in your spark…how to make things right. You have given it time, Orion. Do not let such a precious thing as friends slip through your servos like sand.…for no matter who they are, if they bring you joy…”
           “Such a bot is…a true friend….”
           “And now, there is understanding. Trust that he…has gained his.”
           Leaving Orion to stare ahead, speechless, Alpha Trion gave his student one last pat on the shoulder, then turned and continued down the halls, disappearing round the bend.
///
            Tap, tap, tap, tap!!
           Light footfalls sounded on the dirty, metal floors, quickly drawing closer to Megatronus’s quarters. He only barely heard them as he sat alone in his room.
            His eyes were closed, head against the wall and tilted towards the ceiling.
            No real thoughts swam around in his mind.  
           “Megatronus, sir!”
           The shrill voice reached his audio receptors, jolting him out of this blank state. He growled to himself, wishing he had not been disturbed. Then, with a sigh, he rose from the berth and unlocked the door to peek out into the halls.
          “There you are! I—I have a message from—uh, from…” the young, thin-framed, brightly colored bot shuffled around his brown bag for a moment. At last, he pulled out a thin screen—a message tablet. As the bot entered something into his delivery log, Megatronus folded his arms, interested.
           Who would be trying to contact me…who would use a message tablet…?
           “It doesn’t say who it’s from, but the order here says it’s urgent—so here you go, sir.”
           The bot carefully handed the gladiator the thin, glowing object. Megatronus nodded his thanks and took a step back into his room.
          “Uh—uhm, sir…”
          The delivery bot stammered quietly, causing Megatronus to stop look up.
          Now what?
          “Do you need something?” He asked as politely as he could.
          The thin-framed mech gripped the strap of his delivery bag and looked away for a moment before nodding.
           “I, uh…I just thought—well, I wanted to let you know th-that—um…”
           He shook his head harshly, worrying that Megatronus was starting to become annoyed.
           “I’ve…listened to a lot of your discussions—your speeches—and, um….” He took a deep breath, then looked up to Megatronus, admiration sparkling brightly in the depths of his optics.       “You’re a hero to me, sir. I—I want to let you know that…wherever you take your fight for freedom…I, for one, am right behind you…” he bowed his head a little. “As a delivery bot, with my weak, thin frame, I’m—I’m no good in any of the professions I wish I could enter, anyway…but your speeches about—y’know, equality and all…I just get so inspired!”
           Megatronus was taken completely aback by this, yet pleased to know he had one more ally in his campaign. Feeling pride in himself and joy knowing he could help this bot, he reached out and placed a firm servo on the smaller mech’s shoulder.
           “You are worth as much as you wish yourself to be, young bot. And your capability is also, only defined by you.” He smiled warmly. “What is your name?”
           The delivery bot looked so happy it seemed as if he’d burst.
           “Mikro, sir!”
           Megatronus laughed softly. “Thank you for your kind words, support, and,” he held up the message tablet with a grin, “This.” They shared a quiet laugh. After a moment, the gladiator continued. “Always remember this, Mikro. All bots have a spark in them, and that is the only deciding factor of their worth.”
            With that, he nodded a goodbye and stepped back into his room, closing the door.
           What a nice, young soul.
           He set the tablet down on a table and touched it, hoping to see who had sent the—
           “Megatronus, hello.”
           Orion’s face appeared on the screen, accompanied by his soft, level voice.
           Megatronus was greatly surprised. He felt a twinge of anger, but it was outweighed by a strange joy at seeing and hearing his friend after these long, empty weeks…
           “I am recording this from my room, and I will send it by an acquaintance of mine as soon as possible. I hope this reaches you well,” On the screen, Orion looked away, seeming nervous. “I will be at the entrance to Kaon city tomorrow. If…you are willing to meet with me…I have something to tell you—to show you—something that would not mean as much were I to share it over this screen. I apologize if I have inconvenienced you. May Primus be with you in all you do, Megatronus.”
            Click!
           Megatronus stared at the blank screen, seeing his own face reflected in the black glass. He sighed, gently setting the tablet face down. He laid on his berth, staring at the ceiling, thinking.
           Finally, he reached a decision.
           “See you tomorrow, then, Orion.”
....
I wanna just apologize again if there was any weird wording, spacing, typos, etc because I’m falling asleep/my head hurts/my stomach also hurts as I’m editing this :P ,,,,it’s 2 am,,,,,but for the sake of finally posting it because I’ve wanted to for so long, I’m trying my best! I’ll read through it tomorrow and probably fix some stuff lol
Oh an dw I’m not abandoning the other fic I’m writing, just updating this one cuz it’s been a while....^^’’
ANyway, thanks so much for reading!!! <3 
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NUANCE
Edit 7 (7/12): I didn't realize I kept breaking the link when I was trying to come up with a good title lol my bad.
Last two titles: "I'm not your bass-slut anymore." (That didn't exactly fit the narrative.)
"Don't fuck your idols. :)"
Since everyone is talking about accountability, let me put it succinctly: I was 22, this was consensual for me, I was a "groupie" who knowingly emotionally cheated on my then-bf with Bassnectar for months, I broke it off & moved out because I expected more from the relationship than I ever got.
As one person on IG stated: I was just a groupie whose fantasy didn't go the way I wanted it to. Lol it's true, but that isn't the whole story.
I know it's easy to focus on how I was "old enough to know better" and the harmful choices that I made, but don't forget that Bassnectar actively pursued me even after finding out about my boyfriend -- I'm sure he wouldn't have had any problem finding a single girl to talk to instead, given his stature.
He offered me concert tickets, plane tickets, money to buy an apartment, he told me to email him as often as possible, he told me to keep everything a secret and to lie to my boyfriend over and over.
He tried to "save" me with controlling advice about eating, sleeping, not partying (ironic, considering that he is a DJ) not pursuing music journalism, not hanging out with any male friends whatsoever, where I "should" work. This was all before we ever met in person.
People don't realize how hard it is to say no to your idols, especially when they are CONSTANTLY offering gifts that I considered very extravagant at my age.
This wasn't a normal affair; I had absolutely nothing to offer Bassnectar but myself, yet he spoke to me like I was a star. He told me we could "go deep" and that he wanted to "mate" with me.
Of course my dumbass young-adult drug-addled mind is going to fall in love with the idea of him.
CONSENT IS NOT DEFINITIVE. I didn't consent to a relationship as two normal people sneaking around. I became a cheating asshole who was misled by a rich & famous liar. I never said what I did was right -- in fact, I made it very clear that I did something wrong, too.
I also said that my story is NOT as bad as the other accusers'. I absolutely do NOT think that I had it worse than anyone else. I think my story is important because it shows that his behavior wasn't limited to people underage.
Hopefully my candor denotes honesty and by admitting my faults in this situation, people can see that Bassnectar's emotional manipulation was real and calculated, and most certainly did not start or end with me.
Side note: Apparently Bassnectar DOES cuddle... I guess he just didn't want to cuddle me that night. Ouch! :)
Edit 6 (7/12): Too many typos to fix so I'm just leaving them now lol. Added detail.
Edit 5 (7/12): Just because I say I'm slutty and I like sluts, doesn't mean every girl/women who was involved with Bassnectar is a slut. I'm just owning that label to change MY narrative for MYSELF. I really don't think there's anything wrong with being slutty -- it's always the rest of the world that has a problem.
I wrote this stream-of-consciousness, so I wanted to mention that sometimes my statements that involve other women may seem brusque, but I'm on the women's side. I mean to convey disdain for the way Bassnectar treated us (as a secret "harem",) rather than jealousy or annoyance toward the women. I hope it comes off that way, but I don't know who is reading this and how some might interpret my words.
Edit 4 (7/10):
Removed names. A story mentioned in this post wasn’t true. Either just a lie (to make someone look bad,) or I don’t remember it properly ‘cause it’s been so long. If it was my fault: my bad. 
Edit 3 (7/7): 
FIXED SOME TYPOS! 
Edit 2 (7/7):
I like sluts. Stop making us feel bad for wanting love *and sex, too. 
Another thought: Bassnectar probably pursued a relationship with me because I had a boyfriend. Therefore, I would be more secretive and would have to take some of the responsibility and guilt in this situation, too. And that is true. I do feel guilty about the lying and sneaking. I think that it was inevitable that I would break up with my then-boyfriend, but it really wasn’t Bassnectar’s place to accelerate the break-up by giving me the impression that Bassnectar would be my boyfriend instead. This wasn’t friendly advice given to me by someone older, this was tactical. It makes me wonder if a lot of girls/women don’t want to come forward because they are afraid that the truth will come out about their own affairs? 
Don’t be afraid to tell your story because women-hating assholes try to dissect and expose your secrets in an attempt to discredit you! Bassnectar is the one who needs to be exposed for HIS indiscretions -- this is about what HE did wrong.  Edit 1 (7/7): 
- Bassnectar told me that he was coming to NYC and because we had an online relationship, I thought that he was coming to see me. My friend told me today that Gov Ball 2013 was the same weekend, so I think he may have actually been in NYC for that reason (I don’t think he was scheduled to play on the flyer,) but I was delusional about it.  - I removed the screenshot of his phone number from the post because I don’t want to violate any doxx rules. I am still willing to compare this phone number with other women/accusers to corroborate our stories. :)  - This is my story told from my perspective. I was an adult and I’m not posting this with the intent of legal action, or revenge (although I do admit that this relationship was devastating and heartbreaking for me.) I just want people to know what kind of person he is. - My story is not as harrowing as some of the other accusers’, but that doesn’t make it invalid. - Even now, reliving everything hurts me and I wish I could say that it was real, but now that I’m older I am wise enough to know that it was all lies. - I stand with the women who Bassnectar has hurt in similar, or worse, ways.  
----
My relationship was short-lived, but it was so eventful for me that I remember it clearly. I'm mentioning many minuscule details because I think that could help prove the validity of other victims' stories.
Writing in bullet points because it's easier for me to sort through the memories. I'm calling him Bassnectar because the "Lorin" I was talking to is someone that I feel hurt and appalled by now.
• I don't have social media/email screenshots because I deactivated my Facebook and Twitter years ago. Bassnectar asked me specifically to delete our emails because his "girlfriend had caught him" and asked me to get rid of the evidence because she was "demolished." (I will go into a bit more detail about that later on.)  • I don’t have a “smoking gun” that skeptics are looking for, but that’s what happens when someone asks you to keep everything a secret and delete everything that shows you were communicating.
----
• This happened in 2013 over many months, plus Bassnectar texted me a few times about once a year after our "relationship" ended. • I was 22 at the time. I'm from NYC and frequently went to clubs, shows, events, and festivals with my then-boyfriend (who I lived with) & the same group of friends. • Bassnectar was one of our favorite artists and we'd seen him perform several times in several states. • My friends had a private Facebook group where we'd tell each other about shows and make arrangements to travel/meet up/stay over each other's places. • I was very interested in music journalism at the time and occasionally wrote show reviews for my friend's online music magazine. • I actively used Twitter. I basically tweeted at every DJ we liked, and always posted reply screenshots in our private Facebook group to share with my friends. • Things became complicated with my then-boyfriend, but we still lived together. We had recently gotten back together around the first time Bassnectar DM'd me on Twitter.
• Bassnectar responded to a Twitter pic I posted of our mini-fridge with a Bassnectar logo sticker and said that he "liked my fridge" or something. • I screenshotted this and posted it in my group because he was the biggest artist who had responded to me at that point. • I thought I could use this as an opportunity to interview him for my friend's mag. • After I already posted the screenshot in my group and had responded to his DM, he sent another message asking me not to screenshot him because he "hates that." • I deleted the screenshot from the friend Facebook group. I stopped screenshotting and sharing our conversations with my FB group immediately after he asked. • I continued to chat with Bassnectar via Twitter and said that I was a big fan of his merch and that I bought several things at all the shows I've attended. • I asked to interview him at some point in the conversation, and he skirted over the request.  • Instead, he gave me his email (bassnectar2012) and asked me to send him merchandise ideas. • I slapped together a few simple, quick ideas on Photoshop or something and sent them to him.
(I don’t know how to embed a picture on Tumblr lol -- will update.)  • You can see that the image I sent is no big deal, and all the files were similar, but he responded as if they were the greatest things he had ever seen. He definitely made me feel special and talented. • We emailed regularly and relatively frequently for days. • Emails are exchanged back-and-forth and eventually I asked to interview him again and he agreed. • I gave him my number and he called me. My then-boyfriend was aware that I was in contact with Bassnectar, with my original intention of interviewing him. • My then-bf was in the room when Bassnectar called me for the first time. • Bassnectar didn't want to be interviewed; he wanted to get to know me. I agreed to just chat at first. • He told me not to call him Bassnectar because that was his "band" and that I should call him Lorin. • At some point he asked if I had a boyfriend and I told him no, even though things were complicated with my then-bf and we were technically together.       > I know I'm going to be chastised for doing this, but I've learned years ago that I made a bad choice. Honestly, I still wanted an interview, and I am well-known for leading with my sexuality. This is when I started becoming deceitful with my then-partner. Simply put, I was just more enticed by the idea of advancing my career, and eventually the allure of potentially being Bassnectar's girlfriend, so lying seemed best. Just because I’m flawed, too, doesn’t mean Bassnectar did nothing wrong. 
• My then-bf confronted me about not saying that we were together. I felt guilty and the next time I spoke to Bassnectar, I confessed that I was back together with my then-boyfriend and I wasn't single. (I don't remember if it was via text or voice call.) • Bassnectar was upset that I lied, but continued to talk to me nonetheless through text and email.
• He made me feel like my writing was profound and touching, and that we were falling in love. • He would tell me that he wanted to "bring me the sun," or "get me a puppy." He said things that were romantic and poetic and I felt heartened to respond to what I thought was love. • He said he had $10,000 in his mattress and he wanted to get me an apartment in NYC, so I didn't have to live with my then-bf anymore. • He would text me before and sometimes immediately after he played shows then say he was going to sleep by like 12am (typically.) It was easy to keep up with where he was playing via social media.  • He offered to fly me to his show in Red Rocks so I could attend. (I didn't accept.)
• He called me from time-to-time and told me not to tell my then-bf who I was speaking to. • One day he had me call a different phone number, which he said was his "home phone." • He told me a story about a beautiful girl named (removed)? Who he had a falling out with because she mentioned that Bassnectar told her that he didn't like Steve Aoki. (I don't remember that story in detail -- I think he was telling me so I wouldn't tell other people when he talked about other artists.) > Edit (7/10): This person messaged me to say that’s not what actually what happened between them. • One day I was speaking to Bassnectar on the phone and didn't answer when my then-bf called on his way home from college classes (I always answered right away.) He asked who I was speaking to and I admitted "Lorin."
• When I called Bassnectar back, he became annoyed that I told the truth and said that I should tell my then-bf that I meant my girlfriend Lauren instead. • I began to sneak around more, lie more often about who I was speaking to on the phone, and texted or emailed Bassnectar almost every single day. • He said we should skip Camp Bisco 2013 and just spend time together. (Obviously anyone who attended Camp Bisco knows that didn't actually happen lol.) • He was flirtatious, charming, and always offered me tickets to events, or sometimes to fly me to where he was. I didn't accept any of this then.
• He told me that I shouldn't do any drugs, not even smoke weed. All of my friends were casually experimenting back then, and I was equally as candid as I am now about everything I did. He told me not to do drugs at his shows, or any shows, and especially not around guy friends. • Me and my friends traveled to see a show in Philly and stayed with friends. When I texted saying I was mostly with guys (my friend group was mostly guys at the time,) he asked if I "felt safe" and offered to get me a hotel. I thought it was unusual because I always felt very protected by my male friends. • He told me that I shouldn't hang out with guy friends, or have guy friends at all. • He told me that guy friends all wanted to sleep with me and I didn't realize it. • He told me I should eat healthier and exercise regularly -- it was very weird and controlling. He just didn’t want me to be myself.  • He told me that he had a girlfriend who had two abortions. I think because we were talking about relationships?  • He told me that he grew up in a hippie commune and was Christian and he questioned his priest and that his mom was a poet laureate. It just seemed like he wanted me to get to know him at the time. • He told me I was co-dependent with my boyfriend and that I needed to become independent and move out. • He told me I should make lists of my life goals as an independent person and email it to him. • He told me not to tell anyone about us talking. I told all of my girl friends, but it was a "girl code" situation and none of the guys or my then-bf knew what was going on. • We talked A LOT and often, but all of this only happened in a matter of months.
• Time passes and our emotional affair eventually becomes physically intimate when he says that he is going to fly to NYC. This is JUNE 2013! He played at Electric Zoo 2013, but that wasn't until Labor Day, so I'm not sure why he really needed to go to NYC, but it definitely wasn't for a show because me and my friends would have been there. > NOTE (7/7): My friend read this and mentioned that Gov Ball 2013 was the weekend before, so there is a good chance that Bassnectar was already in NYC for some reason and didn't actually come to see me personally like I was led to believe. lol.
• He alleged that he would see me again around Labor Day when he came back for EZoo, too.
• I am from Staten Island, and wasn't totally familiar with Manhattan's layout at the time, but I think that the hotel he was staying at was in Midtown. It's been 7 years since this happened, but I tried my damnedest today to figure out exactly which hotel it was -- there are soo many in that area alone.  • If Bassnectar says any of this isn't true, then he's lying because there will definitely be a plane ticket or something with his name on it to NYC in JUNE 2013. > NOTE (7/7): I thought he was there to see me specifically, so the dates he told me was staying in NYC are probably not 100% accurate, but there is definitely some proof somewhere on his end that he came to NYC for whatever reason. The lies he told me are just coverup to make me lose credibility if this ever came out. 
• He said he had a hotel for three days. I think it was a Mon-Wed? I took off work those days so I could see him everyday that he said he would be in NYC. If he has no record of checking into a hotel around the time I'm citing, then his manager probably did it for him. I believe his name is Carlos. (I'm going by the memory of what Bassnectar told me.)
• Bassnectar met me in person at the Staten Island Ferry (Manhattan side) and we walked to Battery Park and sat on a bench and talked. • I felt extremely shy and awkward because I knew that by meeting up in-person, I had given up with my now-ex. The whole thing was conflicting and unfair to so many people, but it was too late now. • Bassnectar frequently complimented me in person. He said things like, he was dying to smell my neck, that he loved my wrists because they were delicate like a bird's frame.  • He said that he felt self-conscious that he would be recognized because he's used to being recognized in crowds. • He would pet and caress me, but didn't try to kiss me in public. • He told me that he got his hair washed at a hair salon and he gave the hair dresser a ($50 or $100?) tip and looked in the window to see her reaction and she was crying because she was so happy.  • He convinced me to go back to his hotel. We took a cab there. It didn't take that long, which is why I'm convinced it was Midtown. He never told me which hotel it was, but I didn't realize it was actually because he didn't want a trail back to him. I guess it worked.
(I'm about to get very detailed about my memories, so trigger warning for making people feel uncomfortable.)
• When we got to his hotel, he became physical with me very quickly, but he said he wouldn't kiss me first. That I had to do it first. So I did. • It progressed into kissing, cuddling, him touching me all over in bed with our clothes on. He dirty-talked a lot. I also remember that he moaned and grunted a lot, and I wasn't used to any of that. • At one point, I untied his hair and let it down and he joked that I was making sure he was really Bassnectar and not his assistant that I was meeting. • He told me about his go-go dancer friend who had fake boobs. I can't remember why. • I remember him kissing me against the wall, and he said something like, I want to fuck you against the wall and hold you up with only my dick. It was way too specific to forget. (It didn't happen, though.) • We inevitably had full-on sex after the on/off touching/kissing/talking. • He said he didn't want to wear a condom at first, but he thought he should. We did, but it felt like a test to see what I would say. • I remember that he wanted me to have an orgasm, and I instructed him which position worked best for me. • He orgasmed by having sex with me from behind and asked me to look back at him. I remember him draping his long hair over my back. How could I forget that? -_- • One of my girl friends texted me ("How are you plants doing?" was our code phrase) to check in and make sure I was okay because she knew where I was. It was monumental for me, so I told her it was great. • I sat on his lap while he looked at his laptop. • We had these deep conversations about life, and love, and the future and it seemed so real to me at the time. • I remember that I told him I was unsure if we could be boyfriend/girlfriend because he was so much older than me (I think he was 35 at the time?) • He told me about about a girl he loved named X who was also around my age. I didn't think it was that weird because I was convinced he still really liked me best, but he probably had so many "Xs" and I was just another one. • At some point, he commented on Facebook (or Twitter?) in response to someone saying he was Illuminati. Honestly, it was like we were two people hanging out because of how normal everything felt after the sexual tension was gone. 
• I remember having dinner with him at the restaurant across the street and talking about wanting to be a writer and he said I CAN'T WRITE ABOUT HIM EVER. (So it wasn't normal after all.)
• I remember, back at the hotel, he asked me perverted questions like, can you show me how you make yourself orgasm? He asked me to just demonstrate on his hand so he knew what to do next time. • I don't remember much more because I wasn't planning to stay. • My other girl friend had a job interview that day and we decided to meet at the ferry to take it home together. • On my way out, he walked me to the elevator and he gave me $50 to take a cab to the ferry and to use for a cab when I came back to see him tomorrow. (For my fellow New Yorkers who doubt this story, no, that wasn't enough fare for both trips, so the amount is definitely the truth lol.)
• I went to see Bassnectar again the next day. When I asked him for the hotel address or name, he wouldn't give it to me directly. He said it was because of people stalking him or something. I don't fucking know but it was obvious confusing bullshit and I think he gave me an address that was about a block away. I think he even said he would tell the cab driver the address over the phone. There was a lot of runaround to avoid saying the exact address. (Now the reason why seems obvious.)  • My details are a bit fuzzy at this point because I remember meeting him outside the hotel and going up together, but I forget why we met outside and why we were both confused about which street the other person was standing on. • We went up to the hotel room, he worked on music on his laptop, while I sat on his lap and read Trainspotting on my Kindle. • He let me listen to what he was working on, but I don't remember it. I just remember that he was working with female vocals. • He told me he had to meet his guy friend in Williamsburg because his friend was making him lobster. Looking back, it was probably another girl.
• I asked to stay because I wanted to spend more time with him. I texted my now-ex-bf (who I still lived with) that I was staying with my friend. • Bassnectar said that normally he would say no, but for some reason he agreed and left me in the room with the room key and all his stuff. He either really trusted me, or really trusted how much control he had over me to leave me with his laptop. • I left at one point to get pizza, and came back. I watched TV, but couldn't sleep. He got back some hours later and he was drunk off wine, but I just wanted to cuddle and sleep. • He jokingly thanked me for not stealing his things. • Apparently Bassnectar DOESN'T cuddle and made that a point, but he did sleep in bed with me for a bit, before moving to the other bed in the middle of the night. (There were two beds in this hotel room.) • For anyone else who had sleepovers with Bassnectar, you know that he sleeps with his own fans for the white noise. So we slept in separate beds with his own personal fans on. It was all very bizarre. • We didn't have sex this day at all.
• The next morning I went to Duane Reade while he was still sleeping so I could get toiletries and shower since the sleepover was impromptu. • He had a meeting with someone (manager?) who was supposedly coming to stay in the room later that evening? (It was probably another girl though? idk)
• When he got back, he made me go over the list of accomplishments and goals he asked me to email to him. • He told me that I shouldn't be worried about finding someone to be in love with and it should be a lower priority on my list. • He told me that I should get a job at a restaurant or American Apparel or something and get a shitty starter apartment with only girls. • He said that finding an apartment that was pet-friendly shouldn't be a priority at all. I had a pet cat so if I moved out, that meant I would have to leave my cat behind, but that didn't matter to him. • He told me that if I wanted a serious boyfriend, I shouldn't let him see my legs or have sex with him for a long time. • When he finished life-coaching me, we watched a movie together. • He chose Spring Breakers because he was supposedly asked to do the musical score for it and turned it down (that's what he told me.) • At one point in the movie, Vanessa Hudgens jokingly gestures to her friends that she's giving a blowjob, and Bassnectar said he "didn't understand why girls sucked dick." • We had sex once more, more quickly than the first time and with much less romance. I can't remember much because I just remember feeling sad about leaving soon and like he was blowing me off suddenly. • We took a shower together after.
• I packed up my stuff and before I left he gave me $1000 in cash without warning and told me I could use it to help put a down payment for an apartment or something, but I should pay him back because it would be "good for me."    > Looking back, when he left for a short while that    morning, it was probably to take out cash to give    me when I left. • He didn't walk me to the elevator this time and he sat on his laptop while I left feeling very cheap, stupid, and crushed.
• Time passes and we talk less and less. I'm heartbroken, but still make moves to find a job and move out of my ex's ASAP. • I email Bassnectar a diatribe saying I'm feeling hurt and abandoned. I say that I felt betrayed that he made me think we were essentially going to be together after I left my boyfriend and it turned out to be all lies. • I'm having lunch with friends when he calls me and is angry saying that he told me what I should do to make my life better and that he can't just give me a job or do anything for me and that I need to do things for myself. • My friends walk over to the car where I'm on the phone and when I say I'm ready to go, he asks who I'm speaking to and I say, "my friends." • He yells at me and asks why I'm talking to him on the phone when my friends are around (he asked if he could call and I said it was okay, I didn't know we were supposed to be alone.) I tell him I will call him back. • I text him and ask to call back and his mood flipped and he's suddenly super kind and apologetic and tells me he just wants me to be independent. He reminds me that I'M the one who told HIM that he was too old for me and we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend. • I am heartbroken all over again, but I move on with my life and move out within the next month or so.
> I actually did get a waitressing job as per his suggestion and saved money from that + the grocery store I already worked at and moved to BK by August 2013. I didn't use the money he gave me at first because I thought it was a reason for us to see each other again, and I was afraid to spend it in case I couldn't earn enough to pay him back by the time I saw him. (I never saw him again, though.) > In case you're wondering, I did spend it eventually when I started to resent him for blowing me off.
• I speak to Bassnectar very rarely, and only via text. He doesn't call anymore, even when I ask. • One day while I'm at work, he sends me a video of a beach he's supposedly vacationing at. • When we DO speak, he asks for nudes, usually. • When I send them, he says he feels guilty since “he has a girlfriend” and that we should stop. • Contact is so infrequent, when we catch up about my life, he gets annoyed if I mention I'm seeing any guys, but I never think he really cares because he stopped caring about me a long time ago. (If he ever did at all.)
• I still tried for months to maintain any kind of relationship with him because I truly thought we had something special, but he was always too busy for me. It fucking sucked because he was always in the back of my mind now that I was *~independent~* like he said he wanted me to be so many times.
• One random day when I was too busy to chat with him, I remember he actually DID call me because he said he lost a sound file and wanted me to record myself saying "I really like it." A few times to use on a track. I guess I took too long to get back bc 15 mins later, he texted to say he got it from someone else. I couldn't do it anyway because I was dealing with some other personal stuff. I forgot about it soon after. • I didn't listen to the album NSVB for a long time after it came out bc I was still hurt, but when I did.... I heard that fucking sound bite in whatever song it's on (I really don't care to know) and it fucked me up. • I was conflicted thinking, shit, did I blow my last chance for "us" ? I was still hung up on this asshole as if he were just some ex because of that emotional manipulation. • Would that have solidified what we supposedly had? Or would that have just been another way he used me? I began to resent him.
• Fast forward a few months and I'm drunk with my girl friend at home and text Bassnectar for the lols. I say that I should ask him for tickets to BASSLIGHTS 2013 in VA to make up for him being such an asshole. • Surprisingly he agrees on the condition that I only go with girl friends, don't do any drugs, and say that the Tix are left for me because I interviewed him. (Don't forget that no interview ever happened!)
• Before Basslights, he texts me and even asks me what songs he should play and I don't realize he's just stringing me along. Presumably it was just another plot to hook up. • Before we leave for VA, my friend who is driving admits that one of her OTHER friends secretly knows Bassnectar so we might be able to get into some party or backstage. Sooooo I guess she was another one of his "harem" that he was having a secret relationship with. (I don't mean anything negative towards that girl/woman, just that Bassnectar probably saw us this way and was playing *at least* the two of us at this time.) • My friends and I drive from NYC to VA and miss Bassnectar's set the first night because we arrived late, but the Tix were waiting for me at the box office. • If you get Bassnectar's guest list for Basslights 2013, my real name is on there. I'm sure a lot of other girls he manipulated are on there, too. • Bassnectar texts me and asks what I think of the show and I say I missed it. • He says he was thinking of me a lot during the show. • He texts me saying I should let him "vroom vroom in my girl power." Obviously he's alluding to sex, and I show the text to the friend who was at my place when I asked him for the Tix. He won't send a cab to get me at my hotel when I say sure, though, because he "has a girlfriend" again and he would feel bad. Maybe he was annoyed that I missed his set, maybe he picked someone else, maybe he actually was with his gf? Whatever. • I told him I didn't feel comfortable texting like that anymore because he said he had a gf. • He tells me I'm a good person.
• I am so hurt that I don't answer his texts at all anymore. • We go to Basslights night 2 and I get suuuuper fucked up with my friends (because fuck him) and have an awesome time and disassociate Bassnectar from his controlling bullshit. • I ignore him all the way back to NYC and just text to say I'm home. • He sends me an URGENT text saying that his gf suddenly found out about his gross infidelity and begs me to please delete all of our emails and texts. • I'm stupid and kind and fucking over him so I do it. He knew I would because he knew I was too nice of a person not to. • Bye bye evidence, though. :(  I regret deleting those emails even now because I knew this misconduct shit would come out eventually with him.
• LOTS OF TIME PASSES. Now and again, Bassnectar would text me just to say what's up and I'd barely respond. This only happened approximately once a year. • I'm pretty sure this was just to make sure he was on my good side and there wasn't a chance that I was going to expose him. • I think the last time he texted me first was all the way back in 2016.
• The last few times we spoke were when he had a cancer scare and I texted to say sorry. • When I went to Moonrise Festival, I asked if we could meet and he blew me off. It's been so long, I didn't really expect him to say yes, but it was worth a try. • When me and my friends went to Electric Zoo and he closed, I texted him saying that we couldn't hear well from where we stood and left early. I think he was offended because he replied saying that no one else complained. • The last time I spoke to him, I knew he was playing at an event near me and asked for tickets again so I could see him and he said he would be with his girlfriend. It was a one-off thing and I thought it was worth the try. •There were no cordial conversations in-between the times I contacted him at all. Just me being lonely and single and still hanging on to this idyllic version of him that never fucking existed in the first place. 
• I'm much older now and I know that a lot of this happened because of choices I made, but I was 22, starstruck, in a confusing relationship, partying, and desperate for an ethereal love that I sought in that music scene.
• I bet Bassnectar specifically targeted girls like me because (at least in my case) I was depressed, pumped full of mind-altering chemicals, pretty, and lonely. He acted like I was a unique, artistic, lost soul and he made me believe that he was the only one who could save me.
• At 22, you don't realize that a man 13+ years older than you shouldn't be asking you to keep your conversations a secret from everyone, asking you for nudes, asking you to lie to/break up with your boyfriend, inviting you to hotels, offering you gifts, and straight up giving you cash that you didn't ask for.
• But that man DEFINITELY knows he's doing something wrong, otherwise he wouldn't be sharing that hush money with you, or asking you to hide and delete everything.
• Because he would text me once in a while saying something like, "You cross my mind all the time," it would be enough for me to hang on to this hope that *maybe* there was still a chance. I couldn't see that it was just another manipulation tactic that worked well on me because I was still feeling the effect of the emotional annihilation from so long ago. :(
• I loathe how he made me feel for so long and it breaks my heart to know that there are so many other girls who were taken advantage of in worse ways by this egotistical LIAR in his position of power. Seriously, Bassnectar, fuck you.
ALSO: not sure if this was his burner phone or what, but here are the last two digits of the # he always contacted me with (sent in the DM). If any other victims want to corroborate by comparing numbers... Let me know.
(I REMOVED THE SCREENSHOT OF THE PHONE NUMBER IN CASE IT VIOLATES ANY DOX RULES, BUT I CAN SEND IT TO YOU DIRECTLY IF YOU ARE CONTACT WITH ME!) :)
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chelsfic · 4 years
Text
Chapter 6/18 - Safety - Bucky Barnes x OC Soulmate AU
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Masterlist
Summary: Soulmate AU! Bucky/OC. Our soulmarks appear at the moment of our soulmate’s birth. The Asset’s mark appears in the Spring of 1987. The words imprinted into the skin of his forearm. “Please! Don’t hurt me…”
A/N: I wrote this fic over the course of 2017-2018 and it was originally published on AO3. Recently, I decided to do some light revisions in order to fix inconsistencies in the POV, some awkward diction and typos. Please note–I’m aware that a lot of people love this fic just as it is. This is not a rewrite, I won’t be changing major plot points and I’m purposely leaving most of the writing alone. Just sprucing it up. Since I wrote this before I started posting fic to Tumblr, I decided to take the opportunity of posting the revised chapters here as I edit them. If you got to the end of this A/N: thank you!!!
Warnings: Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Eventual happy ending
---
The windows of the (clearly stolen) SUV were tinted almost totally black. There was no hope that anyone in a passing car would be able to discern Sophie through the window--so that avenue of seeking help was cut off. Even if she was daring enough to attempt a tuck and roll in the middle of a highway she couldn’t. He’d tied her wrists together with a nylon cord and roped them to the headrest in front of her. This not only impeded her from unbuckling her seat belt and opening the door, it also meant that she couldn’t lean back in her seat or lower her arms. So this was her state: arms numb and tingling, head aching from all the crying she’d done, body sore from her brief but intense struggle with the man, and the muscles of her lower back forming into one giant knot.
And she had to pee.
Awesome.
She squirmed in her seat for the millionth time in a vain attempt to seek comfort in an alternate position. She hadn’t spoken since he’d loaded her into the car almost an hour before, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She wiggled her hands through the gap at the bottom of the headrest so her fingers could nudge the back of his neck. Even now, she felt the tingle ripple through their soul bond when she touched his skin. This is so messed up.
“Hey, um, you. Man, I wish I knew your name... Maybe we could pick one?” he continued to glower stormily ahead, ignoring her chatter. His silence, like everything else about him, unnerved Sophie. “C-can we please stop soon? I have to use the bathroom.”
Maybe politeness was the way to go. If she couldn’t escape she was going to have to change his mind about whatever mission he was so hell bent on completing. She knew that he felt guilty about putting her through all this, she could feel it. So, he was conflicted but he didn’t think he could disobey orders from whoever was controlling him. Maybe she could work with this. They had a soulbond after all...she could really lay it on him and go for the guilt factor.
“Please! I’m hungry too. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
There it was. She felt the flair of guilt radiate through their bond. And something else. He was irritated with himself. Had he seriously forgotten about food?
“You have to feed me, you know. That’s, like, the care and keeping of soulmates 101. Food. And, you know, being nice to each other…”
He sighed quietly. “There’s a rest stop a few miles ahead. Will you make it?”
“Yes!” she squeaked hopefully. She returned to her quest for a more comfortable position, but left her fingers where they were, gently brushing the back of his neck. He hadn’t told her to move them after all. And even after all of this, physical contact with her soulmate felt...comforting.
---
The soldier had never considered what it would be like when he met his soulmate. He’d never had much time to consider anything outside his missions. He had the vaguest memory of the day they first discovered the mark. He’d felt...hope? It was the smallest spark but it was there, a seed planted within him all those years ago. Now she was here. But everything was wrong. He tried to think back to what he knew of soulmates and bonds. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it? She wasn’t meant to be another mission. She was different, special. He felt the strong desire to protect her and keep her safe. He longed to hold her close to him but the exigencies of the last twelve hours had not allowed it. And now he had her tied up in the back of a stolen vehicle on their way to a Hydra conditioning center. This was all wrong.
When she said she was hungry he hated himself for not thinking of it last night. He’d taken her from her home when she was clearly already exhausted, driven her out of the city against her will, yelled at her, demeaned her, been physical with her and handcuffed her to a bed. And he’d neglected to consider her most basic human needs.
They pulled into the parking lot of a busy highway rest stop. He parked the vehicle and turned in his seat, looking at her with hesitation clearly written on his face. She seemed to read his expression. Or maybe she felt it through their bond. He could certainly feel her. She sent him a wave of comforting assurance.
“I...I won’t try to get away or anything. You don’t have to worry about that.”
She looked profoundly sad having to say those words. And the soldier felt another stab of self hatred that he had made her feel that he was someone to be escaped. He gave a single nod, took out his dagger and sliced through the cord connecting her wrists to the head rest. She nearly moaned in relief as her aching arms finally fell downward. He reached around the seat and gently unwound the cable from her wrists, wincing as the reddened skin beneath was revealed. He took a moment to rub up and down her arms, stimulating blood flow. The act of touching her seemed to fire his nervous system and the strange, invisible bond between them thrummed inside his chest. He tried to ignore the sensation. The girl sat there, eyes wide as saucers, staring at him.
He felt awkward as he spoke, “We’ll go inside and get something to eat.”
She gave him the smallest most pitiful smile and it quickly fell from her lips. But still, it touched the cold depths of his heart.
***
Inside the lobby of the rest stop, Sophie stood awkwardly at the man’s side. It was designed sort of like a mall food court with a few different food stalls lining the wall, a convenience store in one corner and a large bathroom entrance tucked into another corner. She shifted back and forth on her feet a little. He noticed her discomfort and immediately stalked toward the restrooms, his hand gently grasping her elbow.
“I’ll wait right here,” he said, indicating the spot immediately outside the ladies room. She nodded and went inside. She could still feel the tumult of his emotions riding through the soulbond. It pained her to feel her soulmate so conflicted. But the pain was justified, after all. This was not how it was supposed to be. She shuffled into the ladies room and made her way to the nearest stall. The bathroom was huge and she didn’t have to wait, thank God.
When she was finished she stood at a long bank of sinks rinsing her hands and staring at herself in the mirror. She looked...not good. She stood there for several minutes, allowing the never-quite-warm-enough water of the tap to run over her hands as she stared ahead. Her mind was blank, as if it’d had enough frantic thinking for one day and had given up. She nearly screamed when a redhead, slightly taller than herself slid up behind her and spoke into her ear.
“Sophie, follow me quietly we’re leaving here. I’m taking you someplace safe, understand?”
She locked eyes with the woman in the mirror, clearly weighing her options. Sophie had no idea what she was caught up in and didn’t know for sure that she’d be able to differentiate between help or danger. But something in the woman’s crystalline green eyes conveyed her sincerity and she silently nodded, following her into a supply closet at the back of the bathroom she hadn’t even noticed. As they entered she realized it wasn’t a closet at all, but a service corridor with an exit to the outside. The woman slunk ahead of her, cracked the exit door open and motioned to someone outside. Before she knew what was happening the woman was gone and she was being ushered into yet another nondescript vehicle by a couple of stoic looking men in dark suits. They shut the door behind her and she was alone. The A/C in the car blasted and she shivered against the cool leather upholstery.
About half a minute after they’d stuck her in the car she heard distant shouts and pops like fireworks...or guns. Then she felt the sickening tug on her soulbond. He was in pain, and panicked. She sensed his worry for her and his fear and confusion. She threw open the car door and burst forward, fully intending to find him and make sure he was okay. The men in suits immediately grabbed her and refused to allow her to leave.
“Let me go, please!” she shouted. “He needs me! He’s hurt!”
“Calm down, miss. Barnes will be just fine. Orders are to capture not kill.” She realized this dumb dumb had meant to comfort her, but the words capture and kill weren’t really doing it.
She growled furiously and struggled against them but they wouldn’t budge. She could still feel the man’s fear pulsing into her. In desperation she tried to comfort him, sending him waves of affection and peace. But if they got through to him she couldn’t tell.
She heard a tinny voice coming over a radio, “Suspect in custody. Is Ms. Reynolds accounted for?”
One of the men pulled a walkie talkie from his hip and responded, “We have her, Sir.”
“Alright, everyone proceed to SHIELD HQ, we’ll be right behind you.”
Sophie didn’t have time to consider what was happening as the men herded her back into the freezing cold car. She could only ponder the sudden quiet that had come over her bond mate.
tagged: @watsonwise​
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evalinkatrineberg · 4 years
Text
Family
A/N: In which @arin-schreave meets the Bergs. Only 10k words this time. Includes bad hand puns because Anna made a typo that I thought was intention. In conclusion, I am a dumbass.
It was almost too easy to be swept back into old family rhythms as we chatted at the reception. Half the time, it felt like I had never even left, like I had just been away for a night or two, sleeping over at a friend’s house, but at the same time, it felt like I was meeting my family for the first time, as if they had just adopted me, and were filling me in on the family secrets.
“You’ve missed a lot,” Lydia informed me, her face dead serious, but filled with energy as she looked at me. Behind her, our mother nodded, folding her hands in front of her as she looked around the room at the other families. There was an interesting mix of people in the room, I had to admit, though it seemed like most families were keeping to themselves, just as we were now.
“So, fill me in,” I instructed, rocking back and forth on my feet from my heels to my toes once as I looked at my sister again.
“Okay, well,” she began, pointing at our father, “we know it’s early, but Father packed some birthday presents for you, so don’t let us forget that!”
I narrowed my eyes at my father, who stood to my side, completely straight faced. “You didn’t have to do that!” I knew that more likely than not, I was still going to be here for my birthday, but there was always the chance I would be sent home before then. I was painfully aware of that, especially with Christina bringing back more and more rumors about the other girls’ relationships with Arin each time she came to my room. Somebody saw him kissing Lady Jen last night. Well, I heard that he and Lady Clemence were pretty cozy today. Do you see the way that Lady Leana looks at him? Somebody saw Lady Regina in his office earlier. I still can’t believe that Lady Idalia touched his face at the ball. Did you hear that he and Lady Melissa kissed? I haven’t seen him with Lady Octavia recently.
Every time she said something, I couldn’t help but look at my phone. I was beginning to wonder if asking for his number had been a bad idea. I was so used to being the one to leave others on read, that having his number, but him not starting any conversations felt like a complete turn of the table to me. Maybe we really were never going to be more than friends. I’d have to accept that and move on, if that was the case.
Yet, that kiss we had shared last week, before I had attempted to sleep again, hadn’t felt like something between friends. That had been something more, something careful, something intimate. I had never kissed someone like that, and then called them a friend, and nothing more. I didn’t think I had ever kissed anyone with that level of emotion tied to the kiss itself, either.
I was in so fricking deep over my head.
Lydia forged on, completely unaware of my internal turmoil. Waving a hand through the air, she fixed her brown eyes on me, cocking her head to the side. “What, like we’d leave you presentless on your birthday? No way!”
“Presents aren’t everything, Lydia,” I sighed, offering her a small smile despite myself. She meant well, and I knew it.
“No,” she agreed, “but we put a lot of thought into these, so at least take two seconds to open them, will you?”
“Speaking of your birthday,” Gabriel chimed in, looking over at me from where he stood a bit off to the side, next to Sam, “I’ll be here for it, if you want to do anything.”
“That was my next piece of news. Thanks for spoiling it!” Lydia rolled her eyes at Gabriel, crossing her arms as she turned her body to face him more. I raised an eyebrow at the both of them, waiting for their staring match to end, and their explanation to come. Family week would have ended long before my birthday, so there had to be a pretty good reason as to why he’d still be in Angeles three weeks later.
It was Lydia who broke first, turning back to me as she pointed a finger at Gabriel. “He got that job he applied for, at the chemical testing facility here, in Angeles.”
“I won’t be returning to Knoxville with everyone else, once family week is over,” he confirmed with a nod. “I just need to finish furnishing my apartment, and then I am good to go.”
“Gabriel!” How was this only the first I was hearing of this? I knew he had applied for the job - he had done it while we were all still home in May - but nobody had bothered to tell me that he had heard back, or was even looking in to moving out to Angeles. “Congratulations!”
My oldest brother simply nodded, keeping his same neutral expression, despite the great news he had just told me about. Having Gabriel close by would be very nice indeed, if our schedules ever lined up in a way that would allow us to see each other. He was like a piece of home away from home, steady and constant no matter the conditions, like a boulder breaking up the rapids of a river.
Still, there were logistics to consider, even if we were close by, that had me shaking my head. “My birthday is on a Wednesday, though. You’ll be busy with your new job, and I’ll have classwork.”
He rolled his eyes at me, flashing a frown in my direction. “You’re not doing homework on your birthday. I’m sorry, but I won’t allow it.”
“And who put you in charge?” I raised an eyebrow back at him.
“Anyway,” Lydia interjected, now pointing her finger at Randall. I dropped Gabriel’s stare, and turned instead towards my younger brother, who was looking around the room, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Randall has a solo in his competition a capella group’s lineup this year, and is competing for music scholarships!”
“Randall!” I whirled around to look at my younger brother, holding my hands up in my excitement. “That’s amazing news! Congratulations!”
“He’s not actually going to pursue a career in music,” my mother chimed in from where she stood behind Lydia. Her eyes narrowed at Randall.
Lydia frowned for a moment, but then turned back to me, smiling once more. “Now, onto the biggest news - me!”
I rolled my eyes, watching still as my mother came to stand behind Lydia, placing one hand on each of Lydia’s shoulders. As she did that, Lydia thrust her hand out towards me, the ring on her finger catching and reflecting the light from the room. “I’m engaged!”
“To whom?” She hadn’t even had a boyfriend when I had left Carolina! I reached forward, grabbing her hand in mine. I was by no means an expert on wedding rings, but I was pretty sure this was a big one. Whoever he was, he must have a good deal of money, and a lot of charm to boot, to woo my sister in such a short period of time.
“Devon Judge,” was her answer.
My eyes went wide. “Devon Judge? The one who plays for the Braves? That Devon Judge?” A professional baseball player - a Two. The size of her ring was beginning to make sense to me.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned my head around to see my father standing behind me, nodding. Holy crap. This was happening. This wasn’t an episode of Pranked! or an elaborate joke of Lydia’s. My sister was engaged, to a professional baseball player, after having known him for a maximum of three months.
“Congratulations,” I finally managed to stutter out, still staring at her hand like a fool.
There was another tap on my arm before I could say anything more. I flinched a little at first, startled, and looked up. Arin. I couldn’t contain the smile that spread across my face as I looked at him, taking in his own smile. “Arin! How are you?”
Around me, the chatter of the rest of my family members ceased, and they turned to face Arin, various degrees of curiosity evident on each of their faces. My father and older brothers kept their expressions pretty neutral, the most reactive being Gabriel, who simply raised his eyebrows. My sister, on the other hand, was now looking at Arin like she was at the supermarket, and he was an apple she was inspecting for bruises. Randall only glanced at Arin for a second before something else caught his eye and his attention wandered. My mother just smiled, ever the polite, well-mannered woman of the house.
Arin glanced at each of them in turn, still smiling as he did. “I’m doing well. I came over to check on you, and say hi.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I replied, still smiling as I gestured towards my family members, where they stood around me. “Let me introduce you to my family.”
Here goes nothing. I pointed to each of my family members in turn as I spoke, making sure Arin knew who was who before moving on to the next person. “This is my father, and my mother.”
My mother offered him a polite smile, while my father kept his face expressionless, simply nodding at Arin before I moved on. So far, so good. It was still early, though. There was plenty of time for someone to say something stupid, or for an argument to break out.
“This is my sister, Lydia. She’s the oldest.”
Lydia had withdrawn her hand, folding both of her hands together in front of her, and fixing Arin with a smile that looked a little too falsely saccharine for my own comfort. I had known going into this that Lydia was going to be the hardest for Arin to win over. The two of us had always told each other everything, and Lydia was also incredibly stubborn when it came to holding grudges. Already, she’d made multiple jokes about Arin’s behavior on our roller skating date, and she hadn’t even been at the palace for a full twenty-four hours. I doubted she would say anything outright, though. She was the queen of passive aggressive comments and backhanded compliments, her sweet words often so false in situations like these that they gave a new meaning to killing someone with kindness.
I moved on, not letting myself linger on my worries. Lydia would behave, especially with our parents around. I wondered if her new fiance could handle her as well as we had all learned to. He must have been able to, or else they wouldn’t have gotten engaged, right? I felt a pang of sadness as the realization of just how much I had missed at home while I was here washed over me like a wave, drowning out the rest of my senses for a brief moment.
I had been enjoying myself in Angeles, though. There would always come a point in life in which I would have to move on, and live without my family at my side every waking second. It was for the better that it had come sooner, rather than later.
I gestured towards my two older brothers, who stood a little farther away from my sister, my parents, and I, still facing each other, their heads turned towards Arin. “Then there’s Gabriel, and Sam.” Both just nodded once, their expressions almost a carbon copy of my father’s. Gabriel might be older than Sam by almost two years, but he still stood a full inch shorter than Sam and my father. Something about his build, the way he carried himself, still made it clear to me that he was the older brother, though. I knew it wasn’t something I had imagined, either. Many people often confused Gabriel for being the oldest out of all five of us, despite Lydia actually holding that title.
“And this is my younger brother, Randall.” I pointed over to the other side of my mother, where Randall stood, his head turned upwards as he analyzed something on the ceiling with apparent interest, seemingly having blocked out everything else that was happening around him. At seventeen, he was already a good four inches taller than me, and based on the broadness of his shoulders, which he hadn’t grown into yet, he still had a good few more inches to go. At the sound of his name, he looked over towards me, his eyes wide with confusion. Upon noticing Arin, he offered the prince a small wave, before turning back to whatever had captivated his attention before.
“Don’t worry if you don’t get all of our names right away.” By my side, Lydia inclined her head, smiling at Arin as if she was a lion sizing up her prey. “There’s a lot of us.”
I cut her a glance, but kept my mouth shut. Was this an insult - a jab at him, for having taken a while to remember my name, or where I was from, or anything about me, for that matter? If it was, she was being unnecessarily ridiculous. It had been months since I’d complained to her about that. Holding a grudge for that long couldn’t be healthy, and yet, I knew she’d hold on to all of his mistakes for as long as it took for him to own up to and apologize for them in front of her. Even then, she wouldn’t forget about them. Being the oldest hadn’t left her with the sense of responsibility and duty that many oldest siblings seemed to display, but it had made her extremely protective and defensive of the rest of us. It was a blessing, and a curse.
Arin didn’t waver under Lydia’s gaze. Instead, he kept his smile in place, extending his hand towards my mother. “Holly, right?” As the words left his mouth, he glanced at me for a split second, the question flickering in his eyes.
I offered him a small but encouraging nod, along with a smile. Where he had learned my parents’ names, I wasn’t sure, but at that moment, I couldn’t care less. He was going to make a good impression on them, at this rate. That was a good sign.
Lydia’s expression flickered towards one of surprise, her eyebrows darting up and down her forehead, but it didn’t last. As quickly as her expression had changed, it had returned back to normal, her sickly sweet smile finding its home on her face once more. A quick look at the rest of my family revealed that Gabriel was frowning, more at Lydia than anyone else.
My mother, bless her, commanded Arin’s full attention at the moment, the smile she was giving him genuinely pleased. “Yes,” she answered as she shook his hand, the motion light and delicate on her behalf. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I knew what her hands felt like without even having to touch them. Those were the hands that had held mine when I was young, cold yet soft to to the touch. Those were the fingertips, calloused from years of playing the violin, that had wiped away my tears when I was hurt. It almost seemed odd, now - the little details that stuck with me, despite being apart from her for so long.
I felt my father remove his hand from my shoulder, and I looked back up at him to see him wrap his arm around my mother’s shoulder, smiling down at her, his eyes alight with contentment, before he turned to look at Arin.
Arin inclined his head, turning his attention to my father and extending his hand to him. “Harald.”
I watched their interaction like a hawk, noting the way my father nodded once at Arin, and then shook his hand, his grip clearly firm. I couldn’t believe I was thinking it, but Arin almost looked kind of short, next to my father. Then again, who didn’t? I always felt like I was tall, in comparison to many of the people around me on a daily basis outside of my house, but I was still the shortest one in my family by a good two inches. Giants, they were.
I caught my mother as she attempted to subtly elbow my father in the side, as if that would prompt him to say something. My father must have taken the hint, because within seconds, he pulled his hand away, replying, “Pleasure. I got your phone call to my work phone, the other day.” His tone was almost curious, like he wasn’t entirely sure how Arin would respond to that fact.
“Ah, yes.” Arin cut me a glance, before turning his gaze back to my father. “Sorry that I missed you.”
I shook my head at Arin, frowning as I considered what my father had said. Had Lukas told him about the call, or had he been there the entire time? Why hadn’t he mentioned it to me, either? The morning after Arin had called him, I realized that I had three missed calls from my father, but he had never left a message, so I hadn’t really thought much of it, figuring that if it had been so important, he would have at least sent me a text, asking me to call him back. I set my gaze on my father then, raising an eyebrow. We were owed an explanation, just for his last comment to Arin, at the very least.
“All calls to the landline are recorded for quality assurance,” he explained, fixing me with a frown. “I thought you actually read your contract when you got your internship.”
Did anybody actually read those contracts? I blushed a bit, answering, “I guess I skimmed over that part.”
“You? Not being thorough about something?” Gabriel’s tone was amused as he took a few steps towards where my parents, Lydia, and I stood with Arin. He shook his head, grinning ever so slightly as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Unheard of.”
My father turned his attention back to Arin, paying no mind to what Gabriel had said. “Sorry about Mr. Bernhardsen.”
It was almost odd, hearing him refer to Lukas by his last name. I knew that my father hadn’t been overly fond of him since day one, simply claiming that he felt something was off about Lukas, but he had never been outwardly rude, or even cold, towards Lukas, whenever he had been over at our house with me and June. He had always called Lukas by his name, or simply by, “young man.”
Looking back at it now, it was almost comical how right my father’s initial impression of Lukas had been, without him even realizing it. Hindsight was twenty-twenty, after all.
“If you’d like to file a complaint for the way he spoke to you, I could make sure it gets processed quickly,” my father offered, keeping his face carefully expressionless, not revealing how he felt one way or the other. I knew him well, though, and could hear the faint note or urging in his tone. He wanted Arin to do this.
Had he really disliked Lukas that much? He had said that he never liked him, after he had watched me push him off our front porch the night before I left for Angeles, but I supposed I had never really considered to what extent he felt that way. Why did he feel that way? My father was generally good at reading people, so perhaps it was just a vibe he had picked up from Lukas, but he normally didn’t develop feelings this strong off of something so small.
Arin was silent for a moment, looking as lost in thought as I was. Knowing what I had told him, what I was still trying to process myself, I couldn’t blame him. I swallowed, watching as he turned his head to look over at me, and murmured my name, the sound soft, but still loud enough that my family members could hear.
Where was this going? A quick glance at my family members revealed that their thoughts probably held the same question as mine, or something very similar, as they looked between Arin and my father, question marks written in all of their expressions. Gabriel’s grip on my shoulder tightened, and when I looked up at him, I noticed his jaw was clenched, his eyes focused only on Arin. What had set him off? Was it the way Arin had murmured my name? This was a mess, already, and we’d all barely said more than a sentence apiece.
I bit my lip, hesitating for a couple of seconds before swallowing my apprehension. “Yes, Arin?”
He stiffened, but his voice was soft - almost distracted - when he spoke. “It’s nothing.”
It didn’t take a genius to realize that it clearly wasn’t nothing. He probably just didn’t want to say anything in front of my family. I didn’t know why that made me feel as relieved as it did.
I reached out, my fingertips lightly grazing his arm, my voice barely louder than a whisper, so that only he would hear. “Tell me later?”
He didn’t reply, so I forged ahead, a little louder this time. “I only heard half the conversation, so it’s your call.” Shaking my head, I looked from my father back to Arin, narrowing my eyes at both of them in turn. “Did he say anything bad?”
“He was pretty rude - not that that’s a surprise,” my father admitted, shaking his head a bit. “I don’t think many people would miss his presence in the lab.”
He did have a point there. Lukas has never exactly been popular amongst our fellow interns, but then again, neither had I, really. The professors and other staff had always seemed to like him well enough, though. How many times had they joked that he and I should get together, and become a couple? I swallowed as I thought back on it, coming to the realization that their seemingly innocent comments must have fed into his own desires. The lab’s Christmas party, the kiss under the mistletoe, stood out in my memory. Had he asked them to help orchestrate that? My father had been away for a conference in Waverly that week, meaning he wouldn’t have been able to put a stop to such nonsense. It was no secret in the lab that he was fairly protective of me, but I didn’t think anybody knew of his dislike for Lukas. They had probably seen it as an innocent, romantic gesture.
My mother’s voice snapped me back into the present moment, dragging me out of my thoughts before they could consume me whole. I had never been so grateful to see her glaring at my father. “This is no place for conversations about work politics, Harald.”
“I’d think this is the perfect place to talk about the political,” Randall argued, looking at the ceiling as he spoke, smirking.
Arin paid them no attention, instead glancing down at my hand, and then back to my father. “If it's alright with you, I'd like to think on it.”
“Of course,” my father replied, his eyes steely as they flashed towards me, and then towards the hand I had on Arin’s arm. I waited with baited breath for him to say something about it, but he only nodded. “You know where to reach me.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that it was my mother who made the first comment on my gesture. Her smile was polite, but there was something weary in her expression as she looked at my father. It vanished when she turned her attention to Arin, though, as if her curiosity about me placing my hand on his arm invigorated her. “It seems like you and Evalin have grown pretty close, over these months.” There was no malice in her tone, only genuine joy, as far as I could tell.
Arin had passed my mother’s test. That was the easiest one, though.
Lydia’s expression hadn’t changed throughout this entire conversation, and the smile that dripped with poisoned honey wasn’t going anywhere now. “Yes, it seems there’s been a big change of tune since your first date.”
“Lydia!” My mother frowned, and I couldn’t help but agree. Of course she would bring this up. Lydia would forgive, eventually, maybe, but she wouldn’t forget. Right now, she had yet to do either, on my behalf. I loved my sister dearly, with all my heart, and would be forever grateful to her for everything she had done for me, but it was times like this that I just wished she’d choose her own battles.
She looked over at our mother, her eyes wide, the picture of innocence. “What?”
I really hoped Devon Judge knew what he had gotten himself into.
A quick look upwards revealed that Gabriel was now frowning at Arin, as if he, too, was holding a grudge over this date that had happened months ago.
Was I going to make it through family week without losing my mind? I was skeptical. I shot Arin an apologetic smile, unsure of what to even say to smooth things over. Sorry for telling my sister about our horrible date, I was really upset at the time! I had a feeling that wouldn’t do anything.
His back stiffened again, but he still smiled at all of us. “Many things have changed over the last few months.”
“That’s good to hear,” Lydia replied, her voice lacking any ounce of genuineness.
“I’m sure it’s been a wild ride for you, as well,” my mother offered, looking at Arin with a polite smile.
Randall frowned, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. “It’s been quiet without Evalin - the opposite of a wild ride.” I could only imagine that it had been quiet, for him. The two of us were the last kids at home, and much of our time had been spent with each other, while our parents worked. There had been quite a few nights that we had stayed awake together, talking about everything from our worries about the future, to topics as simple as which childhood cartoon had been more entertaining. To have the house entirely to himself, now, when our parents were at work couldn’t be as fun as it sounded, I was sure.
“I hope there’s been some moments you’ve actually enjoyed,” Gabriel stated, his grip on my shoulder loosening a bit, though he kept his hand where it was.
Arin cut me a glance. “I can only speak to my experience.”
“I think it’s definitely been full of good experiences,” I offered with a reassuring smile, unsure as to whether in doing so I was saving him from my family’s questions, or setting him up for more. It was hard to tell, with my family. With there being so many of us, with very different personalities, it was easy for us to pull the conversation in separate directions, rather than working as a unit to move it down one path.
My mother beamed as she looked over at me. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, but -” She turned to Arin, her smile a little more subdued now. I had seen her use that look before, when a student was arguing with her over whether or not they deserved points off on a test, and she didn’t want to upset them by just outright saying that they did. “We are quite interested in hearing what you have to say. We would like to get to know you better.”
“Yes!” Lydia echoed, nodding enthusiastically. “Of course we’ve heard the stories, but seldom do stories do reality justice.”  
My mother frowned at Lydia, and I was inclined to do the same. Before either of us could say anything, though, my father swept in, turning to Arin. “Evalin’s told us almost exclusively good things. The only negative word I heard from her was after your first date, but well -” he cast a nostalgic look at my mother, and I knew immediately what story he was about to launch into “- I wouldn’t worry about that. Holly called me a Three with a savior complex when I first asked her out, and we’ve been married for thirty-two years now.”
He really had brought up marriage, after meeting Arin for the first time. Was this some kind of test that my father was giving him, to see what his true intentions were? The possibility didn’t seem unlikely, to me. I had never thought I’d be envious of a chameleon, but I wouldn’t have minded having the ability to fade away into the background of this room, camouflaging myself from both my own family and from Arin until I could escape this conversation, right about then. Lydia might be ready to talk marriage after three months, but Arin and I? We weren’t even close to that point.
Once again, Arin stiffened, glancing over at me. “I guess only time will tell.” It was a non-answer, sure, but it was one of his better ones, if I was being honest. It wasn't entirely untrue, either. Only time would tell if he was going to send me home, or if I was here for the long haul.
I felt my brother’s grip on my shoulder tighten once more, and looked up to seem him grimace, before he met my gaze. After a second, he looked over at Arin, pausing again before offering, “You survived a conversation with Lukas without yelling, it sounds like. Kudos.” With that, he nodded, as if that fact alone was enough for him to accept Arin into our family.
I had suspected that Gabriel wasn’t too fond of Lukas, but we had moved past that part of the conversation. I narrowed my eyes, furrowing my brows as I kept my gaze on him. I had expected more resistance, more push-back, from him, if I was being honest, especially given the comments he had made to me before I had left for Angeles. He had been the one to warn me not to be, “the royal rebound,” after all. Why the sudden change of heart?
“So.” Lydia’s voice dragged my attention to her. She was frowning, looking at Gabriel out of the corner of her eyes as well, a hint of betrayal tinging her expression. She must have expected the same level of antipathy towards Arin from Gabriel that I had, then.
Despite that, she turned back to Arin, her smile genuinely curious now. “What else have you and Evalin talked about, or done? Someone -” she narrowed her eyes at me, pouring every ounce of accusation she could muster up into that one word “- has been a bit too busy to call often, lately.”
I narrowed my eyes right back at her, a snappy comment already on the tip of my tongue, but the look on my mother’s face stopped me. I knew that expression. It wasn’t quite a death glare, but it was as close as you could get to one while still maintaining a pleasant, polite air. It was better for me not to start an argument with Lydia here, anyway. We were a family, a unit. We put each other before all else, even if we did tease each other incessantly, and bicker amongst ourselves often.
“Books, mostly,” I answered, doing my best to soften my expression, despite the frustration I felt coursing through me. “He also took me to the ballet -” I shot Arin a teasing smile “- and lived to tell the tale.”
He looked between my sister and I. “We did go to the ballet, and I survived - which I actually have some experience with.” He paused again, and then added, “But I’d say Evalin had been fairly busy with school.”
With a roll of her eyes, Lydia turned her attention to me, placing her hands on her hips. “Of course you would come all the way here, and choose to focus on school. Would it kill you to take a break?”
I elected to ignore her comment, opting simply to elbow her in the side instead. Turning to Arin, I raised an eyebrow. “You have experience with the ballet? You never mentioned that.” He had seemed rather familiar with the layout of the theater, now that I thought about it, though. I supposed that would come from experience, rather than anything else.
“Ah, so you appreciate the arts!” My mother beamed at him, and I knew that she meant to take this as a golden opportunity to brag about all five of her children. “I made sure all of my children were involved in at least one music program when they were in high school!”
Arin turned to me first. “It never came up,” he said, his voice soft.
Never came up? We were literally at the ballet!
I kept my mouth shut, though, as he smiled at my mother and said, “I appreciate them, but not as much as I could. My sisters are more into the arts than I am.” He motioned to some of the paintings around the room, which my mother looked at as if she was seeing them for the first time.
“What are you into, then?” Randall furrowed his brows, looking first at the ground, and then at Arin.
I couldn’t keep from snickering at his comment - something I’d often wondered myself, when I had first been getting to know Arin - though upon seeing the glare my mother shot Randall’s way, I covered my mouth with my hand. Behind us, Sam sighed, and then walked over to Randall, ruffling his hair a bit when he reached him.
“I’m interested in reading, when I have time,” Arin answered, looking at Randall. He paused for a brief moment, and then added, “and running.”
“Oh,” Randall responded, looking over at me. “You’ve found a new running partner, then.”
I frowned. I hadn’t even known that Arin liked to run, and I definitely had never seen him out running in the mornings, when I usually ran. It was pretty empty in general around that time, which was kind of nice. We could all use a little reprieve from the hustle and bustle of palace life, sometimes.
“Randall, I doubt anyone is awake when she runs,” Lydia argued, as if she could read my thoughts just by looking at me. “Miss I’ll-Wake-Up-Before-The-Sun.”
“Yeah, I tend to run alone, these days. We have talked about reading, though,” I admitted, turning to look at my father. “I gave him the journals I published under Proctor.”
That seemed to pique my father’s interest. He hummed thoughtfully, turning his gaze to Arin once more, and raising an eyebrow. “Any thoughts on that?”
I had never seen Arin look so in need of a rescue. Either he had never read them, or he had tried to, but couldn’t understand what they were about. I really couldn’t blame him either way.
“Would you mind walking with me for a moment?” I asked, looking at him. I saw my father raise an eyebrow at me from where he stood, but he kept silent.
Arin shot me a confused look, but nodded nonetheless, motioning off to the side of the room. “Sure.”
I turned to smile at him as we walked, before casting a look over my shoulder at my family. They had formed a huddle of sorts, chatting with each other in a small circle, with little gesturing or animation. It was like watching a jury deliberate. They had to be talking about Arin, I was sure of that, but part of me would have killed to know what they were saying. At the same time, I was kind of glad I wasn’t close enough to hear, as if any negative opinions of theirs would taint the rest of my time here.
“Sorry,” I began, turning my attention back to Arin after watching Lydia and Gabriel leave my family’s huddle, walking off to the other side of the room. I pushed my curiosity about their actions out of my mind, wanting to focus solely on Arin. “I just needed to get away from them for a moment. They can’t be a lot.”
Arin simply shrugged. “I’ve experienced worse. They’re not that bad.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, I felt someone link their arm through mine.
“Good,” Lydia declared, looking over at Arin from where she now stood beside me. She must have snuck up behind us by taking the long way around the perimeter of the room, allowing her to avoid our direct attention. It had been a foolish mistake on my part for me to stop watching her. “Because as the oldest, and as Evalin’s only sister, I’m not done with you yet.”
“Lydia,” I sighed. I didn’t need a protector. I could handle Arin just fine on my own. I had been these past three months, with my family on the other side of the country. This display of hers was dramatic, unnecessary, and wholly in character, and I was beginning to get really fed up with it.
“Hush up, it's my job!” She elbowed me in the side, and then turned to her victim. I relented, giving her the silent permission to make her own bed, hoping that she was prepared to lay in it, too.  “Now, Arin, I’m not going to give you the whole, ‘if you hurt her, I’ll kill you,’ spiel, but -”
“Lydia, leave them alone.” Footsteps and a loud male voice sounded behind us, and I knew it could only be one person. I looked over my shoulder only to see Gabriel, his face a mix of apologetic and disappointed as he took in the scene before him.
Arin raised his eyebrows at my sister. “Then what are you going to give me?”
This time, I wasn’t going to give her the chance to respond. She’d done enough damage, as it was. “She’s going to give you nothing because she’s coming with me,” I grumbled, shaking my head and shooting one last look Arin’s way. “Sorry.”
Lydia rolled her eyes at me as I led her back towards where the rest of our family - minus Gabriel, now - stood. “He’s not good enough for you. You know that, right?”
“I could bring home a Nobel Peace Prize recipient, and you would still say that he wasn’t good enough for me,” I argued with a sigh. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate Lydia’s concern, but I was getting fed up with the way she was treating me as if I was a little kid who didn’t know what was good for her, or what she wanted.
“I’m just saying,” she began, coming to a stop in besides my mother. “You need someone who will help you lighten up, who will bring out that goofy side of you that we get to see when you’re with us. Arin -” she poked me in the side, looking over her shoulder at Arin, who was now deep in conversation with Gabriel “- is so uptight, and tense. Yes, you’re like two peas in a pod, but neither of you is going to help the other relax.”
I frowned, my eyebrows knitting together as I considered what she said. There had been moments with Arin, though, where we had joked around - like in the car, after the ballet. There was a more relaxed side to him, it just took some time for it to come out. How was she supposed to know that, though, without simply taking my word for it?
“Two things,” I decided, looking up from the ground to meet her gaze, “the first being that maybe, he was so uptight because you were about to threaten him.”
My mother’s eyes went wide, her hand coming to rest atop her chest. “Lydia Reidun!”
“The second thing, and you’re going to have to take my word for this, is that there is a more relaxed side to him. Even then, though, I wouldn’t be able to live the rest of my days with someone who was all play, and no work.” I shook my head. “I need someone who understands what it's like to devote yourself to your work, and above all else, I need someone who is going to make me happy.”
“Does he?” Sam asked, his face expressionless. “Make you happy, I mean.”
I nodded, looking over at where he and Gabriel stood once more. A part of my was tempted to walk over there and drag Gabriel away, but something held me back from doing that. He and Arin were around the same age - only a month apart, actually. Maybe they would become friends.
I turned back to Sam, nodding. “Yes.”
“Then he’s good in my book,” Randall decided with a shrug.
The rest of my family exchanged glances, shrugging intermittently as they did, as if they were all reaching the same conclusion telepathically. Only Lydia refused to join in, still glaring in Arin’s direction. “There’s more to him than he’s letting on, in more ways than one.” She shook her head, looking down at me. “Mark my words.”
--
Gabriel watched his sisters go, tempted to follow after them. He didn’t know the man before him - the prince - and he wasn’t fond of the power the monarchy held as a whole, which only made him more uncomfortable as he forced himself to stay put. There was a long list of things he should have done differently these past few months. There was an even longer list of things he would have liked to change about the past year. Having this conversation, as rough as he predicted it would be, was only the beginning to making things better for the future.
“Sorry about that,” he sighed, not looking at the prince as he spoke. “Lydia is just a little protective. We all are.”
He cleared his throat, stalling for time as he figured out how to best phrase his next words. It felt like he was talking to someone much younger than him, even though he himself was only about a month older than the prince. It likely had something to do with the fact that it was his younger sister that the prince was dating, for lack of a better word. Even then, though, Evalin was only two years and nine months younger than he was. It wasn’t as if she was a child.
Mistake Number One: not trying harder to persuade Evalin not to apply for the Selection.
“Evalin seems to trust you a lot, and she’s a good judge of character, so I don’t want to think you’d do anything, but…” he trailed off, grimacing at his own inability to effectively voice his thoughts without potentially offending the prince. He was his father’s son, through and through, his grandparents often reminded him. He didn’t know how to mince his words, and his temper had run hot for all his life so far. His father must have learned to hide it better than Gabriel had, though, because Gabriel was of the conclusion that his father’s temper ran as cold as ice. That didn’t mean that either of them was better than the other. They both still had tempers.
Mistake Number Two: letting Evalin go to that fraternity’s Halloween party last fall.
“You’ve spoken to Lukas. He’s…” Gabriel trailed off again, not for lack of trying. He had a feeling he was going to have to add this conversation to his list of mistakes sooner rather than later. “He did something bad, with Ev, last fall, and I don’t even think she remembers it, but Lydia, our father, and I were the ones who saw her after, and just seeing her like that…”
Their entire family had been home that weekend, for one of Randall’s concerts. His group had been competing for the regional title that weekend. Gabriel couldn’t even remember whether they had won or lost. All he remembered from that weekend was Evalin, sobbing, almost incoherent as he had put his arm under her shoulders, practically carrying her up the stairs. He knew objectively she wasn’t tiny, but in that moment, she had felt like the smallest child in his arms.
Mistake Number Three: Not being there for any of his siblings when they needed him.
He shook his head. “I think it broke all of us, a little bit. I guess what I’m trying to say is, we never want to see her like that again.” Another shake of his head, and then he took a step back.
Lydia had been the only one really capable of calming Evalin down long enough for her to fall asleep that night. Then Lydia had come downstairs, and unraveled in front of him and their father. Gabriel hadn’t been able to sew the pieces back together. Lydia had done that herself.
The prince was silent, his gaze locked in on Evalin, where she stood with the rest of Gabriel’s family, shaking her head at something one of them had just said.
“Evalin remembers,” the prince said, finally. “She told me what happened.”
Mistake Number Four: Never talking about that night, again. Until now.
He blew out a breath, running his hand through his hair. He watched his younger sister throw her head back in laughter, the look so full of freedom, of light, as if she didn't have a care in the world. She jumped up, reaching for something that Sam was now holding over his head. What it was, Gabriel couldn’t tell. He was too focused on the fact that Evalin, Lydia, all of them - they all looked as if they had never known any darkness or suffering.
She remembers.
“Shit,” he sighed out, not knowing what else to say. “Okay. We…The next day, she told her friend June - who had driven her home, that night - that she didn’t remember anything from that night, so we assumed…” He trailed off, shaking his head. That was where they had gone wrong. They had made assumptions, instead of gathering all of the possible evidence and data, and then drawing a conclusion.
Mistake Number Five: doubting his younger sister’s sense of judgement, despite knowing how good it generally was.
“Thanks for letting me know. The fact that she opened up to you like that…” Evalin told him, but not us. Why? “She trusts you a lot. More than I thought she did.”
It hurt him to admit. That his own sister wouldn’t come to him with her troubles, and instead had confided in someone she had only recently met, stung, but he could understand why that was. He wasn’t a warm person. He didn’t offer solutions. He was terrible at giving advice, and was quicker to anger than he was to hug.
He was beginning to see the prince - Arin - in a new light.
Arin swallowed, his gaze still locked on Evalin. It was clear to Gabriel that Arin cared about his sister quite a bit, though whether or not he thought of her as a friend or something more, Gabriel was unsure. He didn’t really care to ask, either. That wasn’t his business.
“I didn’t realize,” was all Arin said by way of reply.
Gabriel raised his eyebrows, looking at Arin as he spoke for the first time since they had started this conversation. “Did you think she would tell you something like that if she didn’t trust you?”
“I -” Arin paused. “I just didn’t know that she hadn’t told anyone else.”
Oh.
“So I guess I realize a bit more, now.”
Mistake Number Six: hiding his knowledge of that night from his sister.
Gabriel hesitated for a moment, almost not wanting to admit what he knew had to come next. “I’m not sure she knows that any of us know. She was in pretty bad shape, and it’s not exactly something you can bring up in conversation easily.” How did you even bring up a repressed memory to your little sister - the one who you were supposed to protect? Did you mention it around the dinner table? Did you sit her down after she had excitedly told you about her new project, or the A she had just gotten on one of her assignments? Did you wait until it was late at night and you were both still awake, reminiscing about childhood memories?
He exhaled through his nose, pressing his lips in a line and shifting his gaze back to the rest of his family. None of them had been able to answer that question. He, Lydia, and their father had lived with Evalin’s secret, and none of the others had been any the wiser. “I don’t know how our father manages to see him at work every day without doing anything.”
Mistake Number Seven: lying - often.
He knew how his father managed. His temper ran cold, icy, always latent. It made him a patient man.
Arin frowned, his gaze shifting to Gabriel’s father now. “He knows?”
Hadn’t they already been over this? Arin’s memory must not be stellar.
“Yes,” Gabriel answered, matching Arin’s frown with one of his own. “I did say that it was me, him, and Lydia who saw Evalin after, didn’t I?”
He shook his head, looking back at his family, at his father, who stood there, ever calm, ever quiet. Gabriel wasn't the only one guilty of lying, whether it was outright, or by omission.
“I think he almost can’t bear to tell her - like he can’t handle the thought of her being upset.” Evalin had been their father’s baby since the day she had been born. Their father loved all of his children, yes, but there had always been a little extra spark in his eyes when he looked at Evalin. It was the same spark their mother reserved for Lydia, and their grandfather for Sam. Gabriel and Lydia had always assumed that Evalin would remain the youngest, for that reason. Randall had been a surprise, though definitely not an unwelcome one. “It’s hard to be certain, though. He’s a very private man.”
Mistake Number Eight: not dealing with Lukas himself.
Arin pursed his lips. “And why is Lukas still around?”
It was a valid question, though it still left Gabriel frowning. “Let’s say, hypothetically, we filed a report. The victim tells her story when she’s highly intoxicated, and then doesn’t remember anything about it the next morning, and still actively wants to be friends with the alleged perpetrator. She’s not going to make a statement against him. I’m no lawyer, but a case like that doesn’t exactly sound like it’s going to hold up.”
There were other options, though, and he knew it. Gabriel sighed. “Alternatively, let’s say my father and I pursued a less legal route, and dealt with Lukas ourself. Where does that leave us? Jobless? Imprisoned? Plus, Evalin still liked Lukas as a friend, so she would be upset.”
A lot of it did come down to Evalin still keeping in contact with Lukas, as if nothing had happened. Despite being a sweet girl, she had never had many friends. She had always been a little peculiar. That was likely why. Still, that fact alone had left him hesitant to rip away the veil of friendship, to pull the rug right out from underneath her.
“In another scenario, let’s say we tried to tell her what she told us. Ev is stupidly stubborn, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, and her mind was clearly repressing the memory for a reason. Either telling her breaks her, or she doesn’t believe us.”
Mistake Number Nine: not doing anything.
Gabriel pursed his lips, looking at Arin once more. “Believe me, I may be the world’s shittiest older brother, but I’ve given this issue a lot of thought.”
“But she already knows,” Arin argued, his frown deepening with each word that left his mouth, “and how can you know what she wants if you never talk to her about it?”
Mistake Number Ten: knowing he was in the wrong, but not allowing anybody but himself to tell him that.
He raised his eyebrows at the prince. “This is the first time I’m hearing that she actually remembers anything from that night. None of us knew that she remembered. You asked why Lukas was still around. That’s why. I think the fact that she continued their friendship after that night is proof enough that she didn’t remember until recently.”
The prince just nodded. “Okay.”
It wasn’t. Gabriel didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that Arin knew that, too, but he was tired of arguing. He had done his job, and said his bit. He could make peace with that, whether or not Arin agreed with him. He had never been there for the prince. He was only there for the girl now walking their way, a small grin on her face. He was only there for his sister.
--
I was beginning to think that I had left Arin and Gabriel alone for just a little too long, judging by the frowns on both of their faces. It was almost comical watching them talk, though, even if I hated to admit it. The moment one made a facial expression, the other mirrored it, going back and forth for as long as I dared to keep sneaking glances at them.
“Hold on,” I whispered to my father, inclining my head towards the pair chatting by the wall, “let me go retrieve Gabriel.”
It didn’t take me long to make my way to them, grinning as I looked at their identical frowns. They were more similar than I had ever dared to consider, I realized, now that I actually allowed myself to ponder the thought.
I raised an eyebrow at Gabriel as I got closer. “Everything okay over here? It looked like you were having a pretty intense conversation.”
It took everything in me not to laugh at the tight smile Arin gave me as he nodded. “Your brother and I were just swapping opinions.”
Oh, how I would have killed to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.
I narrowed my eyes at the pair, looking from Arin to Gabriel, taking note of the details as I did. Arin’s answer was a bit vague, as per usual, his smile one of the most uncomfortable I’d seen from him in a while. Gabriel had on his pensive face, from what I could tell, his lips pressed in a thin line, and his eyes somewhere far away.
“Well,” I began, looking at Arin as I motioned to my brother by inclining my head in his direction. “Lord only knows he’s got a lot of them.”
There was no shift in my brother’s expression as he nodded. “Guilty as charged.” He began walking past me then, patting me on the shoulder along the way. With one last glance back at Arin, he nodded, and concluded, “Nice talking to you.”
I waited until I was sure that he had rejoined my family before turning to Arin, channeling all my self control into keeping myself from laughing at his facial expression.
“Are you enjoying your family being here?”
I nodded, placing my hand on his arm. “Yes, but that look on your face says you might not feel the same.” I shook my head, casting a quick look in my family’s direction, before flashing Arin an amused smile again.
When I looked back, his gaze was focused only on my hand. “I’m fine.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, grinning a little. “This looking-at-my-hand-whenever-I-touch-you thing is becoming a trend - and just when you’d stopped staring at me.” I shook my head, my curiosity getting the better of me. One of these days, I was going to have to formulate a list of all of the things about him that still mystified me, and go through it one by one.
On second thought, maybe that’s a bit too much.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “I hadn't noticed.”
I raised an eyebrow right back at him, the perfect pun popping into my head at that moment. “I guess you could say you’re a little out of touch.”
My joke landed on deaf ears, I realized, as his look turned to one of confusion. “Am I?”
Sometimes when talking to him, I couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible for someone to be so clueless. Laughing a little, I explained, “You seem not to notice a lot of things.”
In the silence that followed, it hit me, that my words might have been a little harsh. He had had the same reaction to my touch the night before, after I had told him about Lukas. Was he uncomfortable with having physical contact with me, now? No, that was absurd. We had kissed later that very same night, for crying out loud!
Still, it was only right that I ask. I hesitated for another second, then decided to go for it, keeping my voice as quiet as I could. “Does me touching your arm or hand make you uncomfortable? Is that it? You were so kind and understanding the other night, and I don’t want to mess this up either.”
“It's fine,” he reassured me, giving me a smile. “I promise.”
I promise. I didn’t take the weight of those words lightly.
I offered him a smile in return. “It was refreshing to talk as openly as we did then. Though, I -” I pressed my lips together “- I have questions, but now’s probably not the time or place.” A pause, and another smile, and then, “But thank you, for being a little more open with me, that night, and for handling my family.” I inclined my head towards them, laughing lightly for a second.
“No problem. It's what I do.” He followed my gaze towards my family, nodding once before adding, “and we can talk later.”
“I'd like that,” I admitted, smiling and nodding once, before inclining my head towards my family again, laughing a bit. “I should probably get back to them. You know, despite Lydia's thinly veiled threats, this is the most open I've ever seen them be towards anyone any of us have introduced them to.” There weren’t many precedents, but that didn’t make the statement any less true, or the sentiment any less real.
The news seemed to cheer him up a bit, as a small smile, genuine this time, flickered across his face. “Well, that's a good sign. I'm glad I made at least somewhat of a good impression.”
“You made a very good impression, I think. Not an easy feat, with that lot.” I chuckled. My family was big, and opinionated, and filled with strong personalities, but they were good people, truly. I could only hope Arin saw that too.
He chuckled a bit, as well. “You should see my family at Christmas.”
“That’s always the biggest holiday in our house,” came my immediate reply, accompanied with a smile as I thought about Christmases past. “It’s basically a month long affair - my grandparents always come over, and make enough Swendish Christmas cookies to feed an army, and Gabriel’s birthday is the day after Christmas, so that always becomes a celebration. My mother’s parents always used to come too, before…” I trailed off, wanting to stop at the happy memories. There was no need to dwell on the negative today. It was a good day. We were surrounded by good people.
“Some people are starting to stare I think,” he murmured, chuckling as he glanced around the room.
“Oh,” I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, even as I took a few steps back, folding my hands in front of me. “Sorry, I hadn’t noticed. I’d love to hear what your Christmases were like, at some point, though.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured me, nodding towards my family. “You should go be with them.”
I hated the way he phrased that. He wasn’t going anywhere, of course not. This was his home. Me, on the other hand - well, he could force me out anytime he wanted to, maybe even after this week.
I didn’t let myself linger too long on the thought, nodding instead, and beginning to walk towards my family. “I’ll see you around, then.”
I hope.
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no-te-lo-voy-a-dar · 4 years
Text
Sibling Jealousy - Chapter 5
Fic’s Summary: Reader has known the Winchesters for a long time, almost two years before Cas entered their lives. After that, since Reader was the only one actually teaching the angel about humanity customs and stuff like that, properly, they developed a closer relationship, on the parent-kid way. But it was never verbally acknowledged. Now, with Lucifer’s child on the way, life stabs some sense and realizations onto Reader, but there’s no time for feelings in this house.
Author’s Note: This is mainly a fic with the purpose of developing a family relationship with the characters, of mutual support, and I don’t plan on adding romance for Reader, because that’s not my final goal.
Pairings: Castiel/Reader (Platonic), Jack Kline/Reader (Platonic), Dean and Sam Winchester/Reader (Platonic)
Warnings: Usual canon violence and conflicts, as well as injuries and blood mentions, emotional struggles such as feeling unloved, like an outcast, low self-esteem issues and if you think something else should be mentioned let me know.
<<Last Chapter - Next Chapter>>
Chapter’s Author’s Note: Yes so, a long time has passed, and well, I still am halfway through the next chapter, and I’m still kind of stuck on the same episode from season 13...not having a supportive team for school work sucks u all, don’t be like that. Hope you enjoy this, and remember, comments are highly appreciated, and if you see a typo let me know, it helps me improve ^^
Chapter Five: Therapy and Emptiness
Word Count: 3,170
It’s been almost a week since the discussion on the map room took place, and Dean had been really silent the whole time, while Sam had made small talk to you and Jack, borrowing him a computer he didn’t use all the time.
Jack was spending most of his days on his bedroom, the first two with you teaching him to make his bed, how to work the computer and a few lessons on how to heal people when you bumped against some equipment on the makeshift gym, where you were spending up to three hours divided along the days, a coping mechanism that allowed you to let steam and anger out and left your body tired enough to almost black out at night after touching your bed.
So far he’s been able of healing (yet not every time) from paper cuts to small scraps you had made on your hands while sharpening swords, blades and knives with a sharpening rock - because you also found the process soothing and kind of relaxing, but your mind still wandered making you lost focus, ending on said cuts.
Yet, you told Jack to not tell Sam and Dean about the healing, and when he asked why you were going to lie, you told him the truth...mainly because he still didn’t have a concept of morals good enough to just know why.
“If we tell them you are able of healing injuries, they are not even gonna listen to the fact they are small ones, much less to how exhausted it makes you. They are probably going to expect you to heal their deep cuts, and claw marks and everything they get from hunts. And one, you are not ready yet, second they haven’t earned a right to be healed by you after all what they’ve made you gone through. Maybe Sam, but he’s on thin ice.”
“Ice? But, the floor here is not thin, is it?” Ah, another thing you’ve been up to has been teaching Jack the meaning of some words and expressions, like right there.
---
The moment Sam told you to get ready because you were going hunting, you immediately asked who was going to stay with Jack.
“No one. He’s coming with us.” He seemed unbothered by his idea, proud even.
“Come again? Jack is going with us to a hunt? Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“He could use some fresh air, and being coped up in here is not going to help him (Y/N). We all need to go out a little.” He almost sounded like he was both asking for permission and just announcing the facts…
“Have you talked to Jack already? What does he thinks about this? Does he wants to tag along?” Even if his answer was a yes, you would be having a talk with Sam to tell him how not just because Jack looked old enough to be on hunt meant he was mentally prepared to be on them.
“Yes, I went to him after talking Dean into letting him come along. And he wants to be good, and with hunting we save people.” He shrugged as if it was the most normal and obvious thing.
“Fine. But we have to make sure Dean doesn’t throw him into the fire line.” You rolled your eyes at the idea, but you were also frowning, so Sam just gave you a grateful smile before going out of your room and telling you how you were leaving in 30 minutes.
You still were going to have to talk to Jack after this, letting him know how things could go wrong. Just, warn the kid.
---
As usual you were riding on the back of Baby, but Jack was with you this time. You weren’t surprised he wasn’t in a suit, since he barely had clothes (Dean didn’t allow you to take him into town just to get some for him, so you had to go out and get a few things in hopes they would fit and he would like them), but when Dean slammed the car’s door closed you flinched. You could almost touch his despise for Jack.
The first lady’s information didn’t really help, and after finding out Jack had gotten out of the car, you quickly went to close it before getting inside the crime scene, where they were staring at a blood stain, and talking about going to the grave of the wife to salt and burn what seemed to be a ghost issue, or a revenant.
You weren’t so sure it was either of those options, and you told them that, but you were ignored. Well, Jack did pay attention, but he didn’t know a lot about monsters so he couldn’t back you up or give his own opinion...not like Dean would let him anyway.
As night fell, you went to the graveyard, and took the shovels out of the Impala’s truck.
After explaining to Jack why seeing the inside of the grave was of relevance in this case, Dean put him to dig, and went to grab a beer from the car.
Sam went after him, telling him how he was transforming into their dad. You shivered at the memories of John, for both your experiences with him and the stuff the brothers told you about...mainly Sam, but you could see the aftermath of said stuff on Dean almost every day.
You decided to keep Jack company and actually help him, since neither of the brothers seemed like they were going to help after screaming at each other.
---
Well, the grave did had a body, which left the two main options to just a vengeful spirit.
Sam helped Jack out of the hole and Dean helped you after he saw you were kind of struggling. The soil wasn’t as compacted as you might think okay? I kept crumbling beneath you.
“My mom could be a ghost?” You weren’t sure if what you heard on Jack’s voice was fear or hope.
“No, we burned the bodies. And what burns, stays dead.” At least Dean was kind of talking to Jack…
A quick glance at the green eyed brother told you he meant Castiel. You burned Castiel’s body. And that was his way of accepting Cas wasn’t coming back.
You had to swallow the lump on your throat, and went back to look at the flames consuming the body inside the giant hole.
---
Turns out, it wasn’t a ghost nor a revenant, as you suspected.
Another person ended up dead, and you had to go to the police station to get more information, finding out all the victims had the same therapist, and deciding that giving her a visit had to be the next step.
The only issue was, how to see her and get to talk to her and see if you could gather more information, more clues about the case and what you were up against.
The solution? Going in as a family and pretend you wanted the family group program.
What could go wrong, right? Right.
Everything could go bad.
First, Jack almost blew your cover at saying he had lost his mom when you all were asked who you’ve lost, issue Sam fixed by saying you all where siblings. Then, after said incident, Dean ordered Jack to not speak unless he told him to, at which you pushed Dean off of Jack.
Inside the room, Sam and Dean took the couch closer to the therapist, while you and Jack took the one across them, yet slightly more afar from Mia, and you could feel how rigid Jack was, and you weren’t even sure if he was paying attention to what was being told on the room.
...But maybe that was for the best.
The therapist quickly wanted to address how Dean handled things, and without warning, Sam and Dean started almost shouting at each other, about how Sam didn’t want to accept Mary was dead, and then about how Dean at least had a relationship with her and how Sam just wanted to hold onto the hope of having the same if Mary was alive.
Welp, that went great.
Sam stormed out of the living room like place, closing the doors behind him, leaving a very awkward silence behind him, which was quickly filled by Dean drinking from his whiskey wine pot bottle, earning a glance and scoff from Mia.
“What? Got a problem?” Please don’t anger her, please don’t anger her...
She first scolded him about his anger issues, and how it wasn’t her business if he wanted to fix that up or not, but she told him about how he directed his anger at everyone around him.
“Jack? The poor kid can even look at you. Look at him he’s terrified of you.” You glanced at him, and saw how indeed he tensed even more at being mentioned in the conversation yet not asked anything directly.
“And (Y/N)? I can see you probably boss them around, if you even acknowledge them to begin with. They don’t feel comfortable here with you, yet stands you because of...I’m going to guess because of Sam and Jack.” Ok, what?
You sent her a confused and undignified look, because well yes, you were bossed around, and got along better with Sam, and now that Jack had joined you did felt like drifting more apart from Dean but you...well, Dean didn’t really spent time with you before if Cas wasn’t around, or if you weren’t watching a movie, because that didn’t involve a lot of talking.
...You didn’t like to think about not really fitting with the Winchesters the latest years and now this woman has brought up all of your doubts to the surface again. Thanks.
“Jack? Pff, we are just peachy, right kid?” Dean’s voice did scare you, like he would snap at any moment.
“Just peachy.” Jack’s reply was a copy of what Dean said and sounded almost robotic.
“And (Y/N) is just fine, if they didn’t like us they would have run away a long time ago. Sam sure did for a while.” Dean didn’t even look at you, at neither of you, and took another swing of the alcohol.
Actually you’ve wanted to leave the brothers since a while ago and go with Cas, but since he always went back to them, to Dean, it wasn’t really an option. And even after all these years you really thought you’ll end up being part of their family again. After all, before Sam left for college you felt like family.
The sound of doors slamming open cut your thoughts and sent you standing up and pulling Jack with you, instincts ticking in.
“Careful! She’s a shifter!!” Screamed Sam while pointing a gun at Mia.
Now you put Jack behind both Sam and you, taking your own gun out. That one didn’t have silver bullets, but they would slow her down enough for you to pull your silver knife from your belt.
Turns out a creature read you all so easily. Well, that couldn’t be good.
---
After deciding Mia might be telling the truth about wanting to help people, Dean and Jack went to check if it was true she was somewhere else when the first murder took place, while you and Sam stayed behind, checking the footage to see the eyes of everyone who came in and out.
You didn’t really wanted to leave Jack with Dean, but Sam reassured you it was fine.
Since your computer was slower than Sam’s, you decided to go get some water and stretch your legs, and when you came back Sam was gone, Mia informing you that Buddy, her ex, was acting as one of her patiences and Sam went to the address in hopes of finding him and killing the shifter.
Great, he left without a word.
Your face must have shown your hurt, because the therapist answered your unspoken question.
“He told me to let you know he was gonna be fine, and needed you here for whenever your brothers were back...but, the four of you...you are not really siblings, are you?” You let a dry chuckle leave your mouth.
“Nah, just Dean and Sam. Neither Jack nor I are blood related. Dean and Sam, we used to be closer before, as if we were actual family, but, at some point, a distance started forming, and even when it gets slim at moments between one of them and me, there’s always this, feeling, of how if they had to choose they would save each other, leaving me to perish.” It had happened before, that one time they left you in a vampire’s nest. They proclaimed they didn’t know you were held hostage, but Sam was there with you before you were taken.
Talk about trust issues. Castiel was the only one who made sure the three of you were safe and healthy most of the time, taking special attention to you.
“You lost someone too. If their mother isn’t yours, then who did you lose?” When you blinked, you saw how your vision got blurry with unshed tears.
“Uh, a friend of them? Us? He’s older than me, and, well, might as well say it out loud now. I saw him as a father figure. Castiel, he uh, sacrificed himself to save us all, including Jack, and I did get to say bye, but not like I wanted. And I haven’t been able of mourning him, we haven’t had time to rest since…” You stopped talking as soon as you hard the Impala engine outside, and went to wash your face.
You heard Dean being told by Mia about Sam going out, but you didn’t heard Jack requesting Mia to have a chat.
When you got out of the bathroom, you heard shushed voices from behind a door. Recognizing Jack’s you walk closer, and hear him talking to...Kelly? But, she was dead and...oh.
Mia took Jack’s mom form and he was not talking with her. At least what Mia was telling him was good, actual advice and good words.
You left a sigh of relief out, realizing how bad Jack’s been doing, and well, at least he was getting help.
You started to get up, after you heard Jack thanking Mia, but you were soon yeeted threw against and through the door, crashing against a lamp and a small table, and finally landing hard against the floor, bleeding cuts covering your left arm.
When you lifted your head, you saw Dean knocking Jack out, and then he came to do the same to you.
---
You woke up at the sound of Jack screaming, your blurry vision seeing Buddy flying by that energy Jack created, and Sam on the room’s door.
You were just starting to notice your hands were tied when everything was already over: Mia refused to kill you, Sam had shoot Buddy, the room was all bloody and destroyed and you saw Jack was not very conscious.
After being released, you stepped as far from Dean as you could without looking like a scared, kicked street dog, and went to check on Jack, who was already getting better.
Mia insisted on the four of you to get out, that she would take care of everything (meaning the body and the room), but Sam and you weren’t so sure. It was Dean the one convincing you to leave, and the first one to walk out of the room, Sam following close behind but stopping when he didn’t heard steps behind him.
You saw Mia talking to Jack, and the later giving her a hug. Unconsciously, you hugged yourself, trying to find some comfort. Jack looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, meaning the conversation he had with Mia-Kelly did worked.
You were just left feeling emptier than before.
After Jack let her go, he went to walk past you, standing besides Sam.
You looked at Mia, who had a raised eyebrow, making you realize you were still hugging yourself.
“I’m just a little cold, the blood loose dropped my temperature a little.” You made a dismissive gesture with your hand, but you could see you weren’t fooling her. Maybe she was prepared to be a therapist after all.
“Talk to them, you are not alone.” You barely heard her, and nodded to let her know you did.
As if that was easy.
---
When you got back to the Bunker, you went straight to the sink on the kitchen to clean your arm again, since it was closer than the bathroom.
You were redoing the bandages when Jack came in to get a glass of water, but as soon as he got in, Dean came in too. The tension on the air raised tenfold immediately.
Jack and Dean exchanged little ‘hey’s, but neither was looking at each other.
“Listen kid, you saved Sam back there, I’m grateful...you did good back there, okay? Good job.” You saw the exchange, and noticed how Dean was really trying to look ad Jack, and the almost newborn Nephilim gave him a little smile, nodding.
You now knew the one knocking Jack and yourself out was the shifter, but it triggered the fear you had against Dean from his demon and Mark of Cain days, so when he walked past you, patting your shoulder, you couldn’t help but flinch.
Dean noticed, but didn’t say anything, just murmured a soft ‘sorry’ before leaving the kitchen, probably to find Sam.
Jack, on the other side, went to sit in front of you, and asked with a calm and quiet voice tone.
“Uh, (Y/N)? Are you alright? Does your shoulder hurts?” he was really concerned for you, so maybe you should be honest. After all, he still needs to learn about lies and you didn’t want to be the one teaching him that.
“My shoulder is a little sore, but that’s not why I flinched. Part of my mind thinks Dean will throw or hit me again. I know a few hours ago it was the shifter the one that knocked us up, but my instincts haven’t caught up with that yet.” Okay, you weren’t lying, just leaving certain info out. He didn’t need to know that. Not yet anyway.
He hummed and nodded, understanding what you meant, stood up to pick another glass and filled it with water. You were about to tell him he could use the same glass when he offered it to you.
“Drinking water is vital after losing blood, right?” 
“Water is important in general, but yes. Thank you, Jack.” You washed both glasses after finishing yours and then called for Jack.
“Let’s use the fact I’m already covered in cuts to keep practicing your healing skills, shall we?” the kid glowed at the idea of practicing not hurting people, and catch up with you on the alley.
Maybe not thinking about Cas, but focusing on good things might help you…
.
.
Sibling’s Tag List:
@carryon-doctor-lock @theferretkids @sapphysaph(idk why i can’t tag u m8) @hazelle-uvu @tiggytaylor​ @a-door-into-my-mind @crazy-obssesed-fangirl @ladymarvelite
(If you wanna be added, please say so in the comment’s section of THIS post)
38 notes · View notes
sunsetsinhoenn · 4 years
Note
could you do a scenario for a first kiss with Lance? Sorry if you have done this before! Your blog is fantastic btw!
This had the potential to be really sappy, which I feel like I haven’t written a lot of in a while, so I tried to go crazy with this. I don’t think I went about as crazy as I wanted to, but I blame that on being so tired. on that note, please excuse any mistakes or typos for the time being. I read over it, but I might’ve missed some errors. 
scenario _ first kiss _ Lance
There were some things that were out of your control. The traumas of your past, the ups and then again with the downs; most of the things that have happened to you weren’t because you willed it into existence or because you wanted it to happen. They happened because they simply did.
“Hey, Lance? Do you have a second?’
“Of course, what do you need?”
You were out at a charity event at the request of your close friend, who was expected to show and deliver a speech as reigning champion of Kanto and Johto. He needed a familiar face in the crowd, he said. Someone that would calm his nerves. Little did he know that helping him with his supposed ‘stage fright’ would only end up making yours pick up in return, making the heat pool across your face as if the room was suddenly ten degrees warmer.
“So…” You turned around with a clip-on mic in one hand, coming up to him. Before you had the chance to think too much about it, you were already grabbing him by the front of his outfit, fixing the mic in place. “I’m placing the mic on you for when you go onstage. Don’t worry about whatever you say now until you get up there, the sound guys will make sure they can hear you as soon as you start.”
You ended your task by patting him gently near the mic, looking up at him afterwards. He had a gentle smile on his face that made your heart melt and your mind scream at you to get away. It was too nice of a smile from someone who was just your friend. Just your friend. For what seemed like the millionth time in just the span of twenty minutes since you had been there, you could feel the blush spreading again. Paranoid suddenly that someone else would see the two of you and begin to gossip, you looked around the room, noting how the few people that were there were too busy setting up for all of the guests.
“Thank you, (Y/N). I might sound like a broken record, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Oh. O-oh, yeah?” Stupidly, you looked back up at him, a nervous smile on your face. The only reason you hadn’t run away was because you knew he was too dense to understand how you felt towards him. You had been crushing on the man for several months now, if he couldn’t figure it out before, he wasn’t going to anytime soon. You hit the side of his arm lightly, acting friendly instead of lovestruck. “Anything for you, Lance.”
You began to turn away, speaking about another task that you were going to help out with before everything started. Something about making sure the cords were taped along the floor and then how the food table needed to be stocked, etc., etc. Lance only nodded, knowing full well that you were keeping yourself busy for the sake of charity. But he winked at you before turning around, his cape flurrying behind him as he walked off to do something of his own.
Winked? That wasn’t right. You had to be imagining that.
You shrugged and shook your head, moving on. You had things to do. No need for feelings. Not right now. Not here. Or… anywhere. Not with Lance. Your close friend. Your handsome frie- Your friend! Your friend. Your oblivious friend.
You sighed, voice echoing out with it, turning it into a groan. You just needed to get through the day. After this, the two of you would likely not see each other for another week or so. You both led busy lives that needed your separate attention, which was both a blessing and a curse.  
“Next, we have a wonderful guest with us today. To advocate for our cause, I present you with the Pokemon League Champion, Lance!”
It didn’t take long for the party to start, which was exactly what you figured it would be. Maybe the people there were actually attending for the free food and good company and it was their only reason to even donate, or maybe they were there to help and decided that they also wanted to have a good time. Either way, it was lively. And you somehow opted to only mingle when approached, leaving you with a cup in your hand and no one to bother.
It was a good thing that you were able to have the speakers of the charity be your excuse for not talking, but seeing your… romantic interest up there, having everyone’s attention on him made you feel… jealous? Upset? Lame? Tired because everyday without calling him yours made your heart hurt? Pathetic, you thought. Should’ve just told him how you felt a long time ago. It’s your fault you’re jealous.
And the way he caught your eye amongst the many in the crowd? You knew what he was thinking. I’m glad I have such a wonderful friend with me today, he would say. When he smiled at you from his spot up there, you smiled back and gave him a subtle thumbs up. Then he began talking.
You admired him for his honesty. For his advocacy and his confidence. It was infectious and if there were any bad apples in the crowd, you were sure that they might be second-guessing their ways. He was just that kind of man. So chivalrous and brave. Handsome. Incredibly handso-
“UUUUUUGHHHH, oh my god! Shut up!”
Again, you managed to get yourself so caught in your thoughts that the main event was over and you were in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your thoughts were driving you crazy today, more than ever. Lance this, Lance that. You wanted it to be over. No more thinking of the handsome man outside that said he wanted to talk to you, but you panicked and said you had to pee first. Awesome. He was never going to like you. You silly… fool of a person. He was just being ni-
“Holy shit! Stop! Stop!”
You splashed some water on your face. No more thoughts.
You left the bathroom, hand resting on your forehead in exasperation.
“Are… you okay, (Y/N)? Are you not feeling well?”
“I-“ He was still standing in the same stop you left him at, arms crossed and worried. You let your hand drop, shaking your head. “I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.”
“Did you want to head outside? I can treat us both to dinner later, as thanks for coming with me today.”
You nodded, walking towards the exit with Lance following next to you.
“Actually, I think I’ll take you up on your offer. The food was good, but not enough to keep my stomach from growling for the rest of the day. I take it that you have nothing else to do today?”
He chuckled, the gleam in his eye brightening. He was in a really good mood.
“Not a thing to do but to enjoy the rest of the night with you.”
Your heart leapt into your throat.
“Haha… yeah.” He chuckled again. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was teasing you. “Oh, by the way.”
The both of you stopped walking as he let out a hum in response, telling you to continue. The both of you were standing just at the exit of the building, at the back. There was no one else around. It was just the two of you and your nerves.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I… Well, how do I put this.” You quirked an eyebrow at him. His gaze veered off to the side in thought before coming back to you. “I’ve been thinking for a long while about this. We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“That we have.” Your heart was pounding, but you had to give yourself a metaphorical pat on the back for keeping your cool.
“I…” Typically, Lance had a way with words that even he didn’t realize that he had. This was clearly not one of those times. “Would it be alright if I…”
He took a step towards you, but you didn’t mind how he was somehow closer than he’d ever been before, where you could begin to feel the heat emanating from his body. Your eyes were locked on each other, and no matter how much you berated yourself, you knew what was about to happen. You were sure you had the same look on your face as he did. When you felt your hand touch his, you both slowly intertwined them. When you gripped at his sleeve, he lifted his arm and placed his hand on your own shirt. This wasn’t something that only friends did, and you didn’t need to hear the rest of his question to give him an answer.
“You can.”
Then your lips pressed together, slowly. The shock of the two of you meeting together like this sent a strike of feelings to go from your heart, through the rest of your body and back to your heart again. He was so hesitant with what to do next and you could feel that, but you didn’t want it to end so you pushed your lips harder against his and turned your head at a better angle. But then you couldn’t breathe for much longer, so you pulled away and kissed his cheek, laughing softly.
He did the same, and you wished you could see what his face looked like covered in red, but you didn’t have the chance. He had already pulled you into a comforting hug, with his arms wrapped securely around you. It was peaceful.
There was a moment of clarity for you, just for a moment. What you had wanted to happen for so long actually happened, and it was like a weight had been lifted and thrown off to the side. It was nice to have your feelings validated and reciprocated.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” You heard him say, voice muffled into your shoulder.
“I guarantee I’ve been waiting longer, but I’d say the same.”
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