Tumgik
#like how he went from Nine trying to keep her out of harms way to the two of they giggling over nearly being gutted by a werewolf
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“ twenty–bucks. „
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mcu!peter parker x fem!reader.
IN WHICH — the avengers had their theories about you and peter’s secret pining, but it wasn’t until a mission went wrong that they realized how serious it was.
WARNINGS (18+) → mentions of blood/wounds, cursing, angst, fluff, hurt reader.
✨masterlist✨.
2k.
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Peter had been counting the minutes since you two started dating. It had been twenty months since you joined the Avengers, seventeen months since he realized how hard he’d fallen for you, nine months since you first kissed, and eight and a half months since you started your relationship.
It were though it all happened yesterday. Everything felt like it happened so fast; yet on the other hand, everything felt like it hadn’t even happened at all.
Tony Stark had scolded Peter about the difficulties of dating an Avenger, and what harm that would do to their reputation, how the government would respond, the amount of paperwork the two of you would have to fill out…blah blah blah.
Despite how often their teammates teased them, or encouraged the other to make a move, you two decided to keep your relationship a secret.
Hiding a relationship from the Avengers wouldn’t be too difficult. At least, that’s what you told him. It certainly added some adrenaline to your dynamic; the secret hand holds under the table at meetings, side–eyed conversations across the room, fucking in the storage closet as quietly as possible, the little things.
You made it all worth the risk. That is, until he remembered what the real risk of dating an Avenger really was.
Peter practically flew off the ground with how fast he ran towards you. His ears rang, deafening him from how quiet the world fell around him as he kept himself focused on your limp figure. The glossing breeze over his suit felt numbing, especially as he tripped and slid on his knees til he was finally able to take you in his arms.
“Baby..” He broke the silence, shaky fingers grazed your arm as he rolled your body over. “Babe, we–” Quick to examine you, his eyes fell wide at the large gash in your abdomen. Blood pooled out through your suit from the glass lodged in your stomach, still poking out of your skin. Peter swallowed thickly, trying to keep himself from panic.
The entire world stopped moving.
His entire world stopped moving.
Everything ran cold.
Peter didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know how he could’ve let this happen. One second, you were assigned to keep watch in the abandoned foyer, and the next? Peter left you for what felt like two seconds to kick a grimy dude’s ass or two, and there you were: unconscious and bleeding out.
“Kid? Squirt?” Tony asked through the earpiece intercoms, referring to both Peter and his unconscious girlfriend. As startling as the sudden voice was, Peter needed it to ground him back to the present. “Do you kids copy?”
It took everything in Peter to keep his lip from quivering. He nearly forgot to answer with how clouded his thoughts were. Cradling you carefully in his arms, he adjusted his grip to fumble over the earpiece. “We need a medic!!” Peter exclaimed, taking in as deep of a breath as he could muster, “Y/N’s unresponsive–”
You laid cold in Peter’s shaky grasp, not moving other than the shuttered lifting and easing of your shoulders with your breath. You were still alive, and Peter tried to cling to that as much as he could. He’d lost too many people. He couldn’t bear to lose you, too.
“Don’t freak out. And don’t touch her wound.” Tony sounded extra stern, which was how he typically expressed panic. It felt like a personal jab at Peter, but he knew better than to interpret it so malicely. “Bruce has your location and is on his way now.”
Peter could barely process the sentence, but all that registered was that help was on the way. He pulled the mask off his face before pulling yours off as well. Vision blurry, he could still make out the cuts that managed to scrape your cheeks.
He pressed his lips to your hairline, holding you gently in his arms. Your skin was cold against his touch, and he treated you as delicately as he could. He knew you weren’t dead, but knowing that you got hurt and he could’ve done something to stop it, he blamed himself. And he didn’t know what else to do besides rock you back and forth while the tears spilt from his eyes.
Footsteps approached behind him, but Peter was too focused on counting your breaths to shift his focus onto them. He kept hold of you, only moving his stare from your tattered face when someone shadowed over the two of you.
Natasha met Peter’s stare for a moment before crouching down to examine your injuries. Her lips pressed into a small line, tensing at how much blood you were losing.
“Do you know what happened?” She broke through the silence — At least, what would’ve been silence if not for Peter’s choked sobs.
He exhaled, shaking his head. “She was– She was keeping watch while I.. While I fought off the–”
Rushed footsteps through the rubble of the warehouse cut Peter off as he and Natasha looked over, Bruce and Steve running in.
Peter felt Natasha snake her arms under you, lifting you out of his grasp with ease. He felt himself panic at your absence.
“W–Wait!” He cried, more intensely than he intended.
The three looked at him, curious at his urgency. They watched as he stood up, finally wiping the tears from his eyes. “I don’t want to, uh- to leave her..”
A small, sympathetic smile touched Bruce’s lips as he nodded. “You don’t have to, but we gotta hurry back to the quinjet.” He started, taking steps back the way he came from, “I don’t have the supplies to treat her right now.”
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“Has he eaten today?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Bruce replied solemnly, “I’m starting to worry about him, Nat.”
As you began to come to, faint murmurs grasped at your attention.
“He’s barely left this room since we got back yesterday. We’re lucky he’s stretching his legs to go find her some blankets.” You recognized Bruce’s voice instantly, though you kept your eyes shut as your consciousness collected itself. “I’ve never seen him so distraught.”
“Y’know..” Natasha spoke up, “He slept here last night.”
You felt your heart break and skip a beat at her words.
There was a pause. “I–I know. He was asleep beside her when I came in this morning.” Bruce mentioned.
You blinked your eyes open, quick to regret it when you were greeted by an overwhelmingly bright light.
“I can feel it, Banner.” Nat chimed, “They’re smitten.” There was a faint song to her words. “I think I caught him kissing her cheek before he left.”
It warmed your spirit to hear how affectionate Peter had been, but you could barely remember what happened, let alone why he’d be so distraught.
Bruce chuckled quietly, “I’m sure Tony will be thrilled to hear that.”
Once your eyes adjusted, you realized you were in the medical wing. Did you hit your head or something? Slowly, you sat up, freezing when the realization hit you.
Your hand flew to your lower stomach, hissing in pain at the wound by your hip. “Jesus.. Fuck!” You muttered, seething through gritted teeth. The pain was quick to shoot through every nerve in your body.
Before you could lay back down, you met eyes with an all too familiar pair as they entered the doorframe.
Peter lit up when he saw you up, rushing over. “You’re awake!” He beamed, quick to set the blankets down at the foot of the bed before he kissed you. He kissed your lips, then your cheeks a few times, then your nose, before pressing a sickly sweet kiss to your lips once more.
His hands cradled your jaw before he pulled back from the kiss, moving his hands to better support you as you laid back down.
“Baby, don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” He started, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Peter–”
“God, you scared me so bad.. I thought–” He cut himself off as he rambled, quick to shut down the dreadful thought. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up again–”
“Peter–!”
“I should’ve been more careful.. Fuck, I’m so sorry I let that happen to you–”
You gently cupped his face, “Peter!” You spoke a bit more urgently, which seemed to catch his attention. He simply stared at you while you glanced over his right shoulder about four times.
His face flushed red, turning back to meet Natasha and Bruce’s dumbfounded expressions.
They blinked at one another, each unsure of where to start.
Natasha broke the silence, pressing herself off the wall she was leaning on with a small smirk. “I’m gonna go tell Steve that he owes me twenty–bucks.”
Peter opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. He watched Bruce glance at the door Natasha walked out and back at Peter, “I’ll, uh.. Give you two some privacy.”
And then there were two.
His hands slid down his face as you contained your laughter, though it was hard not to. Watching your boyfriend’s face turn red was one of your few guilty pleasures.
“You couldn’t have warned me sooner?” Peter asked as he turned to you, muffling his words under the hands that covered his face. You weren’t sure how long you were out, but you knew you missed seeing how cute he was.
You missed seeing him.
You shrugged, “I tried to.” Despite the secret being out, you couldn’t care less. A small laugh spilled from your lips at how embarrassed Peter was, but it was cut off by how painful it was.
Peter sat on the bed beside you, grabbing your hand. “Easy, now.. It’s still pretty fresh.” He hushed, brushing some of your hair out of your face. His affectionate actions made your heart swell.
While the two of you stared at each other, you couldn’t help but see the solemn look that lingered in his eyes.
You brought the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his up to cup his cheek, gentle as you caressed the new purple creases under his eyes. “Peter..” You started, “I’m safe now. This wasn’t your fault either, okay?”
He looked like he was about to protest, but you were quick to him. “It’s not your fault.” You repeated. You hoped by saying it again, it would stick in his head better.
His stare flickered from one eye to the other before he sighed, defeated as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You smiled up at him, pecking his lips once or twice. “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me than some shattered window.”
He laughed quietly, his breath fanning over your lips before he whispered, “God.. I love you.”
“I love you too..” You trailed off as he leaned forward to kiss you again. No matter how long you and Peter had been dating, you never failed to feel butterflies in your stomach when he’d kiss you. It made you feel like you were the only two people on the planet.
“I fucking knew it!” Of course, you weren’t the only two people in the world. You heard someone speak from the doorframe, noticing how Peter immediately added three feet of space between the two of you.
Tony Stark looked between both of you, pointing at your connected handhold on the hospital bed in victory. He had the smuggest smirk you’d ever seen touch his face at the sight of you.
His grin made him look like he’d won the fifth–grade spelling bee. You would’ve never thought that you and Peter’s relationship would make such a grown man so happy.
“I’m going to go tell Steve he owes me twenty–bucks!”
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bestbonnist · 1 year
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Chapter 171.1
The battle between the immortals is played for laughs, but the way that each of their arguments is connected to their core character traits makes me think it's indicative of more deeply ingrained conflicts. Let's break it down!
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Tonari's same old same old. She feels indebted to the people she loves, Fushi especially, and believes that if she wants to be around them, she needs to be able to pull her weight. She doesn't think she has any helpful skills apart from a base level of poison resistance, so that's what she focuses on. Tonari puts a lot of emphasis on how "useful" it is when she dies, on whether or not her death helped her friends or not. She puts herself down and uses herself like a tool for the sake of the people she loves.
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Gugu is similar to Tonari in that he uses his body like a tool for the benefit of his friends. As an impoverished, abandoned child—also very similar to Tonari—Gugu thought his only attribute was physical labor, especially after he had his accident and from his point of view, lost his humanity. Gugu got into his accident in the first place because he put himself in harm's way to save Rynn. It's a mark of how little he values his safety.
The main difference between Gugu and Tonari, in this case, is that Tonari sees herself the same as other people, which is to say: bad. Humanity is all a bunch of assholes, and she's no different. Her friends are the rare exception. Whereas Gugu sees all of humanity as fundamentally good. And Gugu, being a monster, is below them. So Gugu is willing to lay down his life for everyone, and Tonari is willing to do it for the people she loves (yes I know she literally says she does it "for everyone" but she's only talking about the people in the park with her).
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Messar says that he's enjoying his life but he keeps dying in horrible ways. He froze to death nine fucking times and hasn't learned his lesson. Is that really enjoyable? It seems more like he's disguising a disregard for his own well-being as freedom. And as Hylo says, he has no purpose, so he's just kind of stagnant right now. It's, uh... It's giving depression.
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If Messar is too hedonistic, then Hylo is too restrained. By setting goals for himself, like saving all of Renryrr or becoming a baker, he's able to get a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment that makes him happy. But he has no chill. Those goals are the will to live that he thinks are so important. Without those goals, he's no different than Messar. Only Messar is able to find the worth of moments spent doing nothing.
This is also literally the same shit they said in Chapter 165.1. This argument has been going on for five hundred years.
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Messar "left unhappiness back in Renryrr," referring to when Alme died. His reason for living was to protect her, he was literally unable to move after she died and got killed by a knocker. Moving on is all well and good, but if his recklessness is any indication, he hasn't moved on at all, he's just trying not to think about it. As Hylo—who has actually done the work to move forward after the loss of his foster mother—points out, you can't really call that happy. Hylo is so harsh on Messar because he used to be aimless as well. But Hylo found something to pursue in the Renryrr arc and Messar isn't even looking.
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In her first life, March agreed to be sacrificed because it was the way to keep the most people safe. She didn't want her friend or her little sister and their parents to be hurt, so she went along with Hayase's plan. She also died saving Parona's life. At this point in time her idea of a good life/good death was similar to Tonari's and Gugu's—that is, to use her death to make the people she loves happy. But as a ghost, she saw firsthand how much her death affected Parona. Being dead wasn't better for the people around her like she thought it was. Now the way she doesn't make everyone sad is by staying alive. She encourages others to do the same, as seen in this chapter when she chastises Messar for not taking care of himself.
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March also takes this into account during important decisions, like when Fushi consults their friends on whether they should take the Beholder's powers or not and she calmly tells them that the choice is theirs. A huge difference from the time she freaked out when they told her they would be losing consciousness indefinitely at the end of the previous era. March's way of living is at odds with Tonari and Gugu's way of dying, but they're all dedicating themselves to the people they love.
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Bon doesn't get involved in arguments, ever since the Renryrr arc he's relegated himself to a mediator/advisor role. He avoids having any contrary opinions and goes with what will placate the most people. I can't say much more about him because he almost never gives away what he's really thinking (sadly he is not a perspective character anymore), but this is definitely a continuing pattern. It's a shame because he's actually pretty good at decision making, although he stepped down due to the number of poor choices he made during the Renryrr arc.
Kai, and Eko don't care very much about the best death argument, which doubles as a "whose life has the most meaning" argument. I wonder if it's because they found a reason to live by working as mechanics and transferring their good points to people within the system, so they don't feel as insecure about it.
Well, that's that! I think their squabbling was a neat way to introduce the issues that'll be explored in this arc and to show how Fushi's friends have adjusted to immortality. The doll point blank asks them why they're alive, and in a roundabout way she gets an answer: they're alive to die.
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fallen-in-dreams · 2 months
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CHAPTER ELEVEN on AO3.
Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.
Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.
Rated: Mature.
Chapter word count: 11,885.
Status: Ongoing.
Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.
Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.
.
Hiya. Hope you're all doing well. :) So, I'm back. And this story is almost done. But I won't be updating every week - it'll be more like 1 or 2 weeks. The reason:
Sometimes chapters just want to get longer and longer and we really have no choice in the matter.
Unlike the last time I wrote out a fic in draft form then posted each chapter a week apart as I edited them, this story is trying to drive me crazy. 4k chapters turned into 6-9k and now THIS chapter is 11k. My editing process is squeezing that number count for all it's worth and it became so much of a chore. I really needed that New Year's break. So yeah, I'm going to slow it down a LITTLE bit. So I don't let it annoy me too much.
And I hope each and every one of you will join me for the rest of the ride. I can't wait to see what you guys think about what's coming. Cheers. :)
Enjoy. ^_^
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… Chapter Eleven: To Kiss or Not to Kiss. ...
.:.
Oh love, believe me, Nothing ever comes to us easy, The river's never run up to meet me, Gotta find your own way down
-- Oh Love, by Phildel
.:.
How am I supposed to face her now?
Gaara stopped trying to figure women out a long time ago.
His argument with Sakura Haruno that morning weighed heavily on him all day. Whenever Gaara found a quiet moment or his mind would wander, images of pure fury and betrayal hounded him. Her pretty face screwed up in indignation and misery. He couldn’t get over the fact that Sakura had truly thought he was wilfully keeping her from her friends. It was just for a few moments but the level of pain that vibrated through her body still scared him.
Hours later.
Like so much about her already does.
So, he stewed in self-doubt all day, moving on autopilot as he went from council meetings to the lonely hours stuck working through tedious mission reports and high-level security reviews. Councillor Tōjūrō wanted this. Councillor Sajō insisted on that. And Councillor Ebizō inquired about their mutual concerns, via the not-so-silent Anbu they both trusted.
Gaara was beyond relieved when the working day ended, and he was able to leave. Most days, he stayed until late, and other times he simply took his work home. It had not escaped his notice that he worked too much. But what else was there? All he had outside of work were his siblings, and they had their own lives to deal with. So, most of the time, he had no-one.
And now her.
“Sakura!” Temari’s voice interrupted his thoughts as she called up to their house guest. “Dinner’s ready!”
Gaara clasped his hands together to hide the trembling of his fingers when Sakura finally descended the internal staircase for dinner. He forced himself to blink heavily to keep his vision from zoning out. Nerves and anticipation like he’d never felt before plagued him. It took all his willpower to keep from groaning in frustration at the strange feelings.
He watched pensively as Sakura sat down delicately. Swallowing heavily.
Sakura Haruno.
Gaara couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.
“Date her, talk to her, and try to figure out how we can help her in the meantime.”
Ideas began to swirl in his mind. Possibilities.
As the culinary genius of the family, Kankuro had cooked another magnificent meal. He was still in the kitchen, putting on the final touches as Temari started talking about how her own day had been. Since her decision to stay in the village she’d taken over the management of the guards and patrols of the village. Gaara didn’t know if she was trying to improve it or just scare them into line. Regardless, she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so he gave her free reign to do (almost) whatever she wanted to them.
Temari stood to help Kankuro lay the food on the table. Sakura was staring at a spot close to the internal staircase, her fingers drumming softly on the table.
“Go get that date organised.”
Planning outings was not his thing. He’d never asked anyone on a date before. Expectation hung in the air.
“Let’s eat!” Kankuro yelled.
Dinner had always been a stiff but amicable affair. Every night, they’d sit around the main dining table to partake in one of Kankuro’s chef-level delights, talk would be minimal because they’d be enjoying the food too much to ruin the moment. But inevitably, someone would say something pointedly, and a casual, intermittent conversation would take place. Before Temari’s return, conversation would be carried by Kankuro’s attempts to make Sakura feel welcomed, strained as they were. Gaara would interject when he felt it necessary, with the occasional input from Sakura when addressed directly.
Since Temari’s return, his sister had not just driven the conversation, but wrenched it sideways and taken complete control of the reins. He wondered if was solely because of Sakura’s presence or a familiarity due to her connections to Temari’s former lover. Which begged the question of how much the pinkette knew about his fate.
Gaara gave a deep sigh that did not go unnoticed by the room at large. It all came down to lovers and friends and family, in the end. They were what truly mattered. Sakura coughed lightly and he glanced at her. Conversation would normally pick up at this point, but the air was unusually tense. He blamed himself.
Gaara hadn’t meant to hurt her by keeping the knowledge of her former allies from her. It hadn’t been vindictive. He just did not know where they were. He had his theories, of course, but nothing solid enough to act on. And this bothered him more than he could admit.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Or rather, Temari and Kankuro did, though they both paused a few times to glance at each other, like they were planning something. Temari had shifted to the edge of the seat, an eager look on her face. Sakura was pushing her food around on the plate, not eating. Like himself. Gaara had only taken a few bites before realising he wasn’t even hungry. And Kankuro was digging in, with gusto.
When Temari broke the silence, Gaara was grateful. For all of five seconds. Then he conjured a mental image of his hands strangling her.
“So…” She looked between Gaara and Sakura as she spoke. “It turns out one of the council members is a traitor, likely in cahoots with Danzo.”
Gaara glared at her. You did that on purpose.
She shrugged her shoulders with an air of indifference that he didn’t buy for a second. She’d been trying to convince him to let Sakura in on his ultimate plans for the Leaf Resistance, the future of Suna, and this Cold War. His sister wanted too much. He told her so. He’d been telling her so. But now, the decision was out of his hands. Sakura wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. Kankuro put his cutlery down and leaned back, watching quietly. Amusement and curiosity danced in his eyes. Gaara could almost hear him thinking, well this should be interesting.
Sakura stopped playing with her food and looked up at Temari after side eyeing Gaara. He braced himself.
“How do you know there’s a traitor?”
“Through Lord Ebizō,” Temari said without hesitation. “Apparently, he’s been working with Gaara here.” She pointed her thumb at him as he scowled back at her. “They’ve found–”
“Temari.”
Kankuro made a soft sound the was halfway between a scoffed and snicker. Nobody paid him any mind.
Gaara glared at his sister. “She doesn’t need to know.”
She won’t be able to handle it, went unsaid.
He was aware of the insult to her person, but he couldn’t help himself. Kazekage or not, Sakura was under his care. She wasn’t one of his ninja. She was in no way his subordinate. Or professional equal. And as such, she was not to be privy to sensitive village information. He could not take responsibility for that. It was enough that he’d given Temari and Kankuro the highest security clearance legally possible for them simply because they were family. And the fact that they could handle it was beside the point.
This wasn’t a matter of trust. Sakura just wasn’t like them. Not anymore.
The pinkette scowled at him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Gaara sat up straighter. He matched her glare with one of his own. It was to be a battle of the wills, then.
.:.
Sakura did not pull her eyes from Gaara while Temari continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted.
“As you would know, communications between different Kage are always done in code or with a Kage-only sealing jutsu.”
Sakura nodded still staring at the Kazekage. She’d seen Tsunade pen letters to other Kage numerous times in both ways. Shizune had been a pro at transcribing the Hokage’s frustrated and eye-twitching candour to something more diplomatic. Sakura had never quite mastered that skill. Where Shizune excelled, Sakura fell behind. Where Sakura shined, Shizune’s skills were lacking. In that way, they’d complimented each other as Tsunade’s most trusted aides.
“Well,” Kankuro added, breaking his own silence. “Lord Ebizō came to Gaara with copies of transcribed missives that had deletion points in them.”
Sakura nodded again. A deletion point was exactly as it sounded. Information that was sent to Danzo must have been deleted at Suna’s end but not Konoha’s. It was off the record information. The only legitimate reason to delete parts of a message on the official, final copy, was for Kage level reasons. And this was clearly a deletion that Gaara had been unaware of.
What it even meant, she couldn’t say. But there was another problem.
“How…” she started softly, fighting to keep her staring match with the redhead. “How did he find it?”
It was a dangerous thing to do, but also difficult to detect. One might say damn near impossible, considering they shouldn’t have a reason for even looking for it. And whomever discovered the deletion point would have to be exceptionally skilled at Cryptanalysis. At the very least. Had it been Ebizō himself?
Temari answered her unasked question. “A new jounin found it. He wasn’t supposed to be there, apparently. Was just covering a shift for a friend. He’s listed primarily as a sensor ninja but apparently started his prior chunin career as a Cryptanalysis specialist.”
Sakura nodded again, finally understanding. “Lucky.”
“Yes. But unfortunately, he couldn’t tell who made the deletions.”
Of course. Sakura would be surprised if he had. So, this jounin had gone to Ebizō instead of the Kazekage? Maybe because it had been a Kage level security issue, he’d instead gone to the only person whose reputation was both impeccable as well as unquestionable.
“But how does that mean a council member did it?” Was she missing something?
It was Kankuro’s turn to answer. “Nobody in this room but Gaara could do it and we know he didn’t. The next line of suspects are the senior members of the council. Councillors Sajō, Ryūsa, and Tōjūrō are the senior advisors who legally have access to Kage level information. Officially, anyway.”
Because of course the Kazekage reserves the right to not inform them of anything if he doesn’t want to.
“How senior is Ebizō?”
“He leads the council.”
Sakura blinked heavily. So, it could’ve been Ebizō but wasn’t, because he brought it to Gaara’s attention. So, he was the only one they could trust. Almost as though this whole thing was a test that Gaara had set up to suss out the reliability of his subordinates. Except that he couldn’t have predicted this jounin’s inclusion. It would’ve been a piss poor test if nobody found it.
Sakura tapped her chin staring back into Gaara’s seafoam eyes with something akin to calmness. Almost like she was a real person having a legitimate conversation.
Well, look at me, acting like a normal, functioning person. What would my mirror image hallucination think about that?
“Councillors Sajō, Ryūsa, and Tōjūrō.”
She didn’t know anything about Ryūsa beyond some murmuring that he might lead the council one day. Tōjūrō was a complete mystery. But Sajō? Oh, Councillor Sajō she knew. That was a face she’d never forget, the arrogant, pompous, prick. She had fantasies about strangling him with his own intestines on a daily basis. If she could, she would.
Her eyes drifted as Sakura imagined, once again, the choking sounds of the older man as she throttled him. It took a few more seconds and a clearing of Gaara’s throat before she scowled, realising what had just happened. In her distraction, she’d accidentally broke eye contact with him. When she looked back at him, the Kazekage was looking smug.
Shit.
.:.
Gaara couldn’t contain his smirk as Sakura broke their staring contest. Something clunking around in her brain had distracted her.
Good.
“Councillors Sajō, Ryūsa, and Tōjūrō.” Sakura mumbled to herself once more, angling her body away from Gaara and his gaze. He kept watching, his face falling into a frown as she ignored him.
“It has to be Sajō,” she said.
“Why?” Temari asked.
Sakura pulled a face. “I’ve had the unfortunate displeasure of being hounded by him. He’s an arsehole.”
“His personality is not evidence,” Gaara intervened, and she glared at him before turning away again.
Sakura pursed her lips. “I know it’s him.”
“Okay.” His brother was driving Gaara crazy. Temari added to the frustration by echoing his words.
He couldn’t sit here and allow this anymore. “No,” he said.
Sakura clenched her fists, her eyes darting over to the corner of the room; she’d jumped slightly, but there was nothing there to startle her. Sometimes, Gaara wondered about that. Hallucinations.
“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said.
It was a wonder his sanity was still intact, dealing with her. She slammed her fists down on the table, dislodging silverware and making his siblings jump out of their skins, but not so hard as to damage the structural integrity of the furniture.
“You promised,” she said scathingly, glaring openly at him, and he was reminded of their argument that morning. “You said you would tell me–”
“I said that we’ll talk later,” he corrected her.
“About the Leaf Resistance!” She yelled and Temari and Kankuro’s heads whipped towards Gaara. He could feel their confusion and surprise but ignored them. “About what you’re doing! You said we should talk. We need to talk. So, let’s talk damn it!”
“This cipher talk isn’t about the Resistance,” he growled. “Nor is the traitor councillor.”
“Do you know that for sure?” She snapped. “Or are you just presuming? What if it’s all connected, Gaara? What if none of it is a coincidence?” She was on a roll now, taking a deep breath before charging into her new hypothesis with gusto. “Danzo doesn’t want a strong alliance with Suna, and we all know it. I’m not actually here to marry you! What if my mission is part of a larger plan? Sending a Root member with me when those tiny little fucking bastards are not actually trained in diplomacy? You have to admit that’s suspicious! So, what if his connection with this traitor has something to do with the Resistance? Or to undermine Suna because he already has a highly connected ally within your walls! What if it’s all connected? Did you ever stop to think about that?”
Gaara blinked heavily at her. Her deduction was quite the stretch. But crazier things had happened and he couldn’t think of a valid counter point, so he would be remiss to completely rule it out. He sighed. But this wasn’t the place to discuss this.
“I can help,” she said, her voice suddenly soft. He didn’t respond. “He won’t expect anything from me.”
“We don’t even know it’s him,” Gaara said. He was fighting with himself as much as her. He didn’t want to push her out of this, but it was political. And she wasn’t a Suna native. It wouldn’t be treason, but it would be dangerous. For both of them.
Maybe I’m overreacting.
He had no clue. Sakura’s face scrunched up as though she was in pain and her head dipped. She closed her eyes and he imagined she was struggling to calm herself. Was she having a panic attack? Gaara felt a similar spasm grasp his chest at the thought of having done this to her.
I can’t do anything right, with her.
She stood up abruptly, not looking at anyone. Her hands were balled into fists and Gaara’s stomach clenched painfully. Guilt. He felt the urge to say something, anything, to keep her from leaving this room angry. But nothing came to mind. He sat there, with his mouth slightly agape, unable to say the things she needed to hear.
Why?
There was a war in Gaara’s heart. The urge to protect her. The urge to respect her desire to participate. The urge to keep her far from the machinations of the evil of this world. He felt like he was being torn in too many different directions. But he knew that above all, he was being incredibly selfish.
With no regard for her uneaten dinner, Sakura stormed out.
He couldn’t release the groan that threatened to bubble up his throat. Gaara remembered he still had an audience and turned his head minutely to glance at them. Temari was frowning at him, her fingers tapping the table soundlessly. Kankuro was shaking his head, his lips twisted in barely controlled irritation. Gaara let that effervescent groan escape his mouth. He was an arsehole. He knew it. Because his siblings had never looked at him with so much disappointment before. Even when he let a demon out to play havoc on their village as a blood thirsty child.
.:.
When will I ever learn?
She was too emotional. Always had been. Weak. Pathetic. Emotional little girl. Expected too much of others. Presumed too much of herself. Stupid.
Sakura stormed up the internal staircase and slammed her bedroom door closed. She didn’t stop there, grabbing the cactus Matsuri and Yukata had given her (what else did she have?) and throwing it against the wall. Not the back of the door. No, not the chronicle of her timeline in Suna.
Soil spilled onto the floor, but the succulent remained firmly in the pot. The hardy bastard.
She let out a long-winded, slightly high-pitched groan. One minute Gaara was open and treating her like a human being and the next, looking down on her and breaking his promises. She felt so childish, but Sakura didn’t care. She wanted to rage and yell and pound some faces into the ground. She let her anger broil and seethe as she turned and threw herself at the bed. Head in the middle and feet dangling over the edge, she screamed into the blanket for all she was worth.
Which isn’t much, let’s be honest.
It was best to muffle her more violent urges. Noisy. Yes. The last thing she wanted was for someone to hear her screaming and to come running. If they would even. She scoffed. Sakura groaned, then rolled onto her back, grabbed the pillow, and attempted to suffocate herself. It wouldn’t be the first attempt since her arrival at Suna.
Who am I kidding?
She wasn’t trying to do anything to herself.
Sakura gripped the pillow harder, closed her eyes tightly and then screamed again. The muffled sound only made her ears pop. She sighed and sat up wearily. She needed to stop doing this to herself. After so long alone, Sakura had started to think she was a part of something. Maybe something special. Probably just something not toxic. Not dangerous. Kankuro was personable. Temari seemed genuinely happy to see her. But Gaara… fuck, she had to stop wanting more from him.
She shook herself and stood up as the mirage floated into the room, through that blasted window. Sakura’s heart raced and she shivered. Had the temperature dropped suddenly or was she just feeling the aftereffects of her panic attack? She watched as the mirage as it turned on the spot and seemed to only just notice her, glowering now.
“I hate you,” she said with conviction. I really do.
“You brought this on yourself,” it replied.
“Shut up.”
Its smile was cruel. Sakura closed her eyes and sat back down on the bed; hands fisted on her thighs.
“He doesn’t care about you.”
“Go away.”
“You’re useless to him.”
She wanted to cry. A choked sob escaped her before she could stop it. No. She was in control of this. Sakura threw her pillow at the mirage. And of course it sailed right through that smug, broken, and bloodied face. It was happy and angry at the same time. How could something that wasn’t even real hold any emotions at all?
“Are you even trying to escape this stupid hell hole?”
No, apparently Sakura had completely forgotten she wanted out of Suna. How long had it been? She paused in her internal debate to glance at the back of her bedroom door.
Twenty-five days so far.
“Ugh.”
Between wanting in on Gaara’s schemes and her ink creatures, Sakura still had no idea what she was doing. Her creations had scouted the village outskirts and even memorised the guard positions and patrol routes. There was no predictability to times, but the places were all the same. It was something to work with, at least. But it was getting her nowhere.
Twenty-five days and all she’d accomplished was making a fool of herself in front of everyone.
Gaara didn’t want her help. Her creatures had probably escaped this hell hole, leaving her behind. There was nothing to do. Nothing but sit in her room like a good girl and wait out whatever plan Gaara and his siblings had. Once the traitor had been identified and proven they could then tackle the political mess Danzo had Suna entrenched in. And Sakura would be free.
And this time I’ll run.
She’d kill the Root shadow and run. Sakura grasped at her chest, grinning despite the hole in her heart. She didn’t notice the single tear at first. It contained all her hopes for being human again. She wiped at it, not sure what to think of it. But she was spared that particular, repetitive self-flagellation at the abrupt sound of a hiss. She started, spinning around quickly. Her kunai was still in the hole in the windowsill. Conveniently between her and the source of the disturbance.
I really need a better hiding place.
Or multiple kunai dipped in poison. Yes, that would be better. More kunai, more targets. She smiled ruefully at that, her focus snapping to the window. She breathed a sigh of relief when there was no attack but rather the shadows of familiar shapes.
They’re finally back.
The ink creatures. The vulture-like bird and viper shaped snake. They slid into the room through the open window, moving in tandem. Between the two of them they had a death grip on something. Something distinctly snake-shaped and presumably dead. A wide grin spread over her face, and they halted their movements.
“Yes,” she hissed. She inched toward them as the ink bird hopped impatiently, releasing its own grip. When she touched the real snake softly, the ink snake twisted its body, tightening its hold on the carcass. The snake was indeed dead. She sighed, relieved. That would make this much easier. The chemical make-up of venom did not change after the snake died. So, theoretically, she should be able to extract the venom and use it, no problem.
Sakura vividly remembered a description of the milking process from a snake husbandry book during her genin days in Konoha.
Press down on the back of the snake’s head after it bites the container. The fangs will drip out venom for at least fifteen to twenty seconds.
Those instructions had been for a live snake. She cocked her head at the dead one as it was still being half-heartedly strangled by living ink, at her feet. Well, hopefully its deceased status wouldn’t make a difference other than ease of access. Hopefully.
Do I do this now?
Normally, she’d wait for the other occupants of the household to go to bed before doing something she didn’t want to be walked in on doing. Right now, standing, staring, and contemplating her sanity carried a high risk of interruption.
Sakura glanced up at the clock. She’d only been back in the room for almost two minutes. It felt far longer. She sighed, resigned, and shooed her hand at the ink creatures. Trying to corral cats would be easier. They just sat and stared at her. Or rather, the snake remained motionless except for the occasional tightening of its possessive grip and the bird cocked its head at her. Much like she’d done a moment ago. Not that it made a difference if they suddenly started towards the bathroom or something, to keep out of sight. And this whole thing would be far safer if she waited, anyway. She’d already been waiting two days for their return to begin, what was a few more hours?
Still feels like I’ve been pacing impatiently for far longer.
She sat on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes. Her emotions had settled. She felt so drained. But not exhausted. There was an old meditation technique that Lady Tsunade had taught her, and she was just scooting back further onto the bed to try it when Sakura paused, startled by the sudden rush of chakra.
Gaara’s chakra.
Gaara’s knock on her door.
“Is he here to apologise?” She’d forgotten about the mirage. Its singsong, mocking voice floated over to her. “I don’t think so.”
She inhaled deeply, unable to stop the sudden hiccupping sob that sounded from her mouth. All the anger and fear and feelings of resentment and abandonment that had just disappeared, all the tension in her body, suddenly returned with a vengeance. How could one person, so innately collected and calm, invoke such a raging storm inside her? She hated it. And right now, she hated him.
“Stop lying.”
Go away.
He wasn’t going away.
Fuck the mirage. She wanted Gaara to leave her alone. But she also wanted him to persist. To show her she was worth the effort. That he cared. Sakura wiped at her tears and attempted to make her face look presentable. Maybe he would give up. In that case the only person who would see her tears was herself.
He knocked again.
“Sakura?” That deep, soft voice. Gods.
What is he doing to me?
.:.
Moonlight filtered in through her window as Sakura stared at the door. The ink creatures twittered and hissed, respectively, nearby and she wasn’t ready for Gaara to see them.
“Think he’ll actually call you crazy this time?”
Maybe. The mirage grinned at her thought.
“Sakura?”
Right, he was still outside her room. She fought the urge to flee. It had been her default state since arriving in Suna and it was beyond exhausting.
And embarrassing.
She glanced at the snake and bird before slowly opening the door half a foot and holding tightly to the frame to keep him from pushing it open. If he had such a notion. Sakura forced herself to look him in the eye.
The shame. His face was full of it.
“Hi.”
He nodded but before Gaara could respond, Sakura moved forward, placing a trembling hand on his chest, keeping her eyes on his. Pale green irises widened but he didn’t complain. Feeling more confident, Sakura pushed him gently and closed the door behind herself. In the hallway. Alone. Together. Her other hand found its way to his chest and Sakura felt his heart beat a little faster under her fingertips.
“It’s a nice night,” she said, her voice low and strong. Maybe. She had no idea. It just had to be strong enough to project confidence. Conviction she missed about her past herself. She was trying, really. “Let’s go to the roof.”
His eyes searched hers wordlessly, clearly trying to figure out what her plan was. What she was thinking. Why she was thinking it. Maybe even if she was trying to trick him. He’d deserve it, after that display during dinner, but Sakura tried for her most saccharine smile.
Seemingly convinced, he slipped his right arm around her waist and pulled her gently toward him, flush against his body. Sand whipped up around them and she couldn’t stop the light gasp for the life of her. Steeling herself, Sakura gripped harder to him as they disappeared from the hallway outside her bedroom and her centre of gravity shifted and they reappeared on the roof of the Kazekage mansion.
The cold night air hit her first. She shivered but didn’t complain. She expected Gaara to pull away immediately but his hold on her remained firm. Almost like it was his apology. Or he was working up to one. Sakura waited. And glanced around, remembering that the Root shadow would be able to see them from the outside, on the roof, even if he couldn’t hear them.
She could imagine that freak’s reaction if he was watching right now. Sakura remembered, one of the few times the masked man hadn’t berated her on their three-day journey to Suna he’d gone over her expectations on this mission. He’d expected her to lull Gaara into a false sense of security. To take advantage of him. To play the part of a girl being sold off.
Use your assets, he’d said, leering at her. It’s not like you haven’t done this before.
Danzo had not ordered her to sleep with, let alone woo Gaara, specifically. But it was in every look he’d given her before sending her off. It was in between every line in the official papers for this mission. Of course, she’d ignored it. Sakura hadn’t planned to be here this long. But here she was, with Gaara’s arm around her, and all Sakura could think of was that, technically, this was supposed to be a seduction mission. She hadn’t foreseen viewing Gaara as a sexual being. It had snuck up on her, now painfully obvious. Sakura knew it before but a part of her had also denied it, but it was true. There was no going back now. She wanted him.
Desperately.
But she was done hoping he would start anything. Gaara wasn’t like that.
Sakura started as his left arm came around to embrace her. His chin resting on top of her head, and he let out a soft sigh. It made her body tremble in response, and she wondered what he was trying to do if not turn her on. This was out of character for him. As far as she could tell. She inhaled deeply. And he needed to stop smelling so good too.
Because it’s hot as fuck.
She wanted to dominate him. The feeling wasn’t new to her but the chance to be the one in control, was. All she’d ever done is exude a fake version of confidence. Sex was methodical. A tool. To her, at least. And here was Gaara, making her want something else. Something more.
But how am I supposed to get that?
She had no idea how to instigate this. Reluctantly, Sakura released her hold on Gaara and after a few moments of what seemed like internal contemplation, he uncoiled his arms, removing them from her hips gently. Always the gentleman. Never the paramour. She cleared her throat and took a step backwards.
He wouldn’t want me that way, anyway.
She needed to get this under control. This level of intensity wasn’t natural for her. It had to be a side effect of either the prazosin drug she was taking or her anxiety. Post Traumatic Distress Disorder. She wasn’t so stupid as to presume she’d survived the last few years with her sanity intact. And it would explain so much.
“I’m sorry.”
Sakura’s jaw dropped at Gaara’s words. He was sorry. She blinked stupidly at him.
“For everything,” he said.
She nodded slowly, licking her lips absentmindedly. Yes, he’d been an arse. She could accept this. She stared at him for a moment, contemplating how to go about the discussion she wanted to have with him. He kept eye contact, obviously content with waiting for her input. She tried to smile but her lips quivered.
Sakura sighed.
“Councillor Sajō. He came to a few of the wedding planning sessions,” she said, deciding on a change of topic. “He was abrupt but otherwise respectful to the other ladies. But he kept glancing at me.” She shuddered at the memory. “He didn’t like what he saw. And he hates me. I know it’s not a lot to go on,” she added. “I’m sorry I was so pushy and defensive about it.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Sakura didn’t think he had anything to base that on. Sometimes she thought he had a secret file that occasionally leaked information about her to him, in minute amounts; just enough for him to get glimpses into her psyche, but not enough for a deep dive. Enough for his pity to sting her. To burn. And enough for him to think her some kind of helpless victim.
She stood straighter, shoulders pushed back, and chin raised. Sakura had never been good at hiding her feelings, even after the Root commanded that had trained her in the early days of Danzo’s reign got tired of her lack of control. The man had very little patience for emotional outbursts. He could teach her all manner of underhanded jutsu and Root-based tactics but mental conditioning to suppress her emotions? She was never going to master that. Not to his satisfaction, anyway. There was no seal on her tongue. Danzo didn’t stick needles in her eyes and brainwash her. No, he just had his subordinates torture her. Poke her full of holes. Heal her. Fry her. Rinse and repeat. She was fun to play with, apparently. Even more so than some others because an unwilling servant could scream the loudest.
“The council has always been difficult,” Gaara interrupted her thoughts, running a hand through his hair distractedly. He looked past her, as though someone had appeared suddenly, and she had to refrain from turning to look. But there had to be nobody there because his demeanour didn’t change. “They do like to make up their own rules sometimes.”
“I can believe that. Especially after that councillor started having me followed.”
Sakura was adamant that Sajō had. The Root shadow never seemed bothered by it. He’d even laughed a few times when she’d stopped on her way back to the Kazekage’s mansion, sensing the darkening presence behind her. Escorted by Matsuri and Yukata, she was shielded by their presence. Their limited protection. But the moment she strayed again; Sakura knew all bets would be off.
And who knows what Sajō is actually willing to throw down?
Would he have her cornered and interrogated? Would he stoop to physically attacking her? Maybe an attack like that would-be-assassin? He was making sure she stayed in line. After their run-in at the council building, she showed herself to be a loose cannon. And if Sajō was in league with Danzo, then it was likely the Root shadow would help him.
She explained all of this to Gaara, leaving out how her contemplation on how far Sajō would go intrigued her. If the old man gave her a reason to fight back, she would. Gaara frowned, concern marring his features.
“It has to be him,” she said.
“It’s at least a place to start,” he agreed.
Sakura smiled widely at him, warmth spreading over her face. Was she blushing? But hope had burgeoned in her chest, and she didn’t care, either way. His eyes softened as he stared back at her, and she had to push down the sudden urge to throw her arms around him.
“I can help,” she said. It wasn’t meant as a reprimand, but Gaara’s face shifted into stony seriousness.
“I know,” he said, his voice low and ashamed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She nodded. “You know… I can handle myself.”
“I know–”
“I just…”
Sakura glanced around the rooftop, remembering another night when he’d followed her up here and she’d killed a masked assassin. It felt like years had passed since then. Being here for the first time since then brought it all back. The blood on her hands. The rain gently trying, and failing, to wash it away. Her mind spasming in ecstasy at the opportunity to finally get to kill something. When she eventually turned back to Gaara she found him looking around in a similar manner, a faraway, contemplative expression on his face.
Does he think of that night often, too?
“We never talked about that night,” she said, and suddenly had his full attention again. “I killed a man–”
“Who was trying to kill you,” he interrupted, but she kept going, unimpeded.
“–right here. I tore into him. And I know you know I took pleasure in it.” She inhaled deeply, her breath shaky, and ignoring the way he looked pensive. “And I know you know… that I’m not…” She struggled to find the right way to explain how she’d lost the plot without sounding dramatic. But it wouldn’t come. Instead, she tried another angle. “Sometimes it comes in flashes. I’ll be okay one moment and then… I’ll just want to dig my kunai into something. Or even my bare hands. That ache. That desire.” She sighs. “I know you understand.”
Because you used to be out of control too went unsaid.
“And I see things…” She cut herself off quickly, not wanting to go further down that rabbit hole.
Gaara’s eyes had widened slightly at that admission, but he didn’t say anything. She was grateful for that.
Anyway…
“I’m not all there, I know. But I’m not so far gone that–”
“You’re not crazy, Sakura. You’re not worthless or useless or unworthy.” Gaara narrowed his eyes at her. His hands twitched, like he too was fighting the urge for them to embrace. She longed for that warmth again, shifting the weight between her feet nervously.
He stared at her intensely and she swallowed heavily in a vain attempt to stop the flow of tears. They stuck in the corner of her eyes in warning, and she tried so hard to keep them from falling, clenching her fists, digging her nails into her hands. Whatever she needed to do. Sakura nodded her head in agreement even as she refused to accept his sweet words.
But her gratitude towards this man was so strong that she couldn’t restrain the single sob from ripping out of her mouth. Now, she couldn’t stop the light tears now gathering along her eyelashes, threatening to obscure her vision. Sakura hugged herself as Gaara reached out to wipe the tears away. He was so tender and considerate. She felt like she was going to break from his kindness. It was good. But it was also torture.
Even after his outbursts and stubbornness to keep her in the dark, she couldn’t begrudge him forgiveness.
Sakura sniffed and leaned into his touch lightly, even as she was unable to bring herself to look at him. He cupped her cheek for a few moments, just holding his hand still against her before slowly wiping at her eyes again. When he removed his hand completely, it wasn’t done hastily or roughly. She didn’t feel rejected. She felt calmer. More in control.
“Sakura… I…”
What could he say? She didn’t know.
“Let’s go on that date.”
But apparently, he does.
She started, looking up at him in surprise. That came out of nowhere. But to be fair, it was something they’d already talked about. Once she got over the initial shock, Sakura found herself smiling her way through the mild panic at the thought of officially dating him.
“Now?”
He nodded.
“It’s a bit late.”
Gaara smiled wryly. “I don’t sleep much, and you don’t… have to go to the wedding planner tomorrow.”
That was true. It was officially her day off. She’d planned to spend it in the training grounds and also use some of that time to hone her ink crafting skills again. Sakura no longer felt the compulsion to escape Suna, though a deep seeded feeling of unease from merely being in Suna still ate at her. Everything she did now was just to pass the time, out of habit, or necessity. But this… yeah, she wanted to change things up a bit.
“O-okay.” She cleared her throat. “Yes. Let’s… uh,” she blushed, “go on that date.”
Gaara must have been thinking about this more than she realised. He rattled off a few ideas, all of which she could picture being interrupted and annoyed by the ever-present Root shadow in her wake. But several of the ideas sounded like they might just be in a no-go zone for her stalker.
Only one way to find out.
And it was a shame her mirage couldn’t be kept out of things as easily.
Sakura realised, as Gaara tentatively explained how this place and that place were in high security areas and had amazing views of the village, that of course the Shadow wasn’t allowed in all areas of Suna. She could’ve slapped herself for not thinking of it earlier. It was even likely he wasn’t allowed anywhere near Suna’s shinobi academy. All of this must have been covered back when they’d arrived and Baki had run down official rules to them both. She hadn’t been paying attention back then.
So many places I could’ve lost him in. Buried him, more like.
“Something casual,” Gaara was saying, bringing Sakura’s attention back to their impending date. Were they just going somewhere casual? Or was he talking about their relationship? Or maybe what they were going to wear? Well, there wasn’t anything casual about being engaged. It was still a farce, but it no longer felt trivial to her.
Okay, she could do this. She cleared her throat. “Yes, casual.”
Was that a smirk?
“We’ll need somewhere with food,” she added, ignoring the flush that his smirk had invoked along her body. They were both acutely aware neither of them had eaten their dinner. But Sakura didn’t want some homemade food for this. “Or money to buy some.”
“There are a number of acceptable vendors open this time of night.”
“Right.”
“I asked you out,” he said, his face tinging pink. “I will pay any and all fees.”
She wasn’t going to argue with that, since she was flat broke. It wasn’t like Danzo cared to pay her for any of her missions. She inwardly scoffed at the notion. The only things she owned were from before his takeover or what she’d managed to steal over the years. She would have to go through the clothes in the wardrobe in her bedroom. Again. At least there more options to choose from now, since both Matsuri and Yukata had made a point of restocking that threadbare closet.
“And I’ll change into something less... I mean more comfortable.” She spluttered. “I mean something casual.” She bit her lip in embarrassment. They were a pair of tomatoes. “Meet you back here in fifteen?”
Gaara nodded, his smile infectious as she returned it before turning on the spot and leaving him alone on the roof. She hadn’t even thought to ask him to use his sand, perhaps because she was still subconsciously remembering the ink creatures. They needed to be dealt with first, before she went anywhere.
Gaara will wait.
She knew he would.
.:.
The night was alive with the sounds and lights that made up the heart of Suna.
And the hounding footsteps of her eternal stalker. The closer they moved towards the lights and sounds, the further the Root retreated into the shadows. It faded into the background but refused to disappear completely. She would not turn her head to give it the attention it craved.
Instead, Sakura took in the sights and sounds, feeling like a proper tourist for the first time in her life. Gaara took her down a small path that led from the Kazekage mansion to the larger maze of interconnected paths to the thoroughfare of the village. From this narrow road, all other paths diverged. And his chosen path opened up into a lively and festival area.
There was no official looking celebration or staged performance, but the atmosphere had a similar ambience to them both. And the people were in merriment as though there really was a carnival going on. Sakura wondered if this was a new thing, because of the tensions of the Cold War and people just wanting to forget for a time, or if Suna had always occasionally held large-scaled revelries. Civilians behind the walls of any village, hidden and safer than most, couldn’t understand what it was really like out there, surely.
Enough of the doom and gloom.
The Root shadow followed as they moved deeper into the edge of the festivities, where the crowd was thinnest, keeping away from the louder groups. Far away. Some people turned to look at them; they recognised Gaara, despite his casual long styled jinbei, but Sakura’s casual shirt and trousers would not have screamed her identity more than her shocking pink hair. Even drab, it stood out. Fortunately, the crowd was sparse, having died down from the dinner rush, which meant the menu selections were limited but that suited them just fine.
Sakura tried not to notice how many people there really were. Nor the concerned look on Gaara’s face when he clearly noticed her anxiety. A few vendors sat on the outskirts of this rabble and Gaara steered them towards the first of the street food merchants, his hand on the small of her back. Sakura eyed the yakisoba but ultimately decided on yakitori. Gaara chose the same.
“I cannot take your money, Lord Kazekage,” the flustered merchant waved his hands frantically, when Gaara went to pay for it. “A treat for your lady friend. On the house.”
Sakura inhaled deeply, not wanting to speak for fear of setting off her anxiety. There were enough eyes on her. And the Shadow was ever present, even in the background. She took a deep breath and followed Gaara as he led her to an open dining area that was mostly empty. They sat on the tableless chairs and ate, just enjoying the distantly happy atmosphere and their silent company. It was oddly comfortable.
There was a tradition in Suna, or so Gaara had told her on the walk down the paths to this district. He’d learned about it from his brother. Like bar hopping in Konoha, this was called stall hopping – on dates or festival nights, going from one vendor to the next, buying a single, small portion of food, then moving onto the next vendor to repeat the process. It sounded interesting. Having finished their seasoned chicken, they now had their meat. Their animal protein.
The next stall had to be different. That was the tradition.
With Gaara’s arm pressed lightly and confidently against Sakura’s lower back, they continued to the next stall, which specialised in rice and seaweed as their main ingredients. Here, the vendor owner also refused Gaara’s money and ladled their plates with a serving of Onigiri and a shrimp tempura roll and ushered them to some seats nearby.
Sakura supposed it was good for business too, having the Kazekage seen at their stall.
“No, no, Lord Kazekage! I will not have it!” The third vendor followed the example of the previous ones, refusing Gaara’s money as well.
He was flushed at the intensity of their refusals and Sakura had to hide a smile behind her hand.
“Looks like they like you too much,” she whispered.
“Your lady friend will eat for free too.”
Gaara had clearly never actually done anything like this before. The novelty was something to behold. They both ordered a small bowl of miso soup, and this time chose to sit closer to the stall as they consumed their food. Sakura took the opportunity to study him as he delicately sipped at his miso, not bothering with the seaweed within the soup.
His sharp features made her feel nostalgia for the days when a pretty face would have her bumbling over her words or blushing just thinking about some boy’s eyes on her. She closed her eyes as images of Sasuke glaring at her popped into her mind. Her innocent, naïve days were over.
“They like you too,” Gaara whispered softly, and she looked over to see that he’d finished already. He wasn’t looking at her, but she took comfort from the gentle smile on his lips as he looked out over the scant crowd.
Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she tried to ignore it. She’d never been on a date before but had gossiped in her early years of puberty about all the different ways to go about it and how the boy in question would dote on her. However, none of them had involved stall hopping for a street vendor mixed with Kaiseki styled meals for an on the move dinner.
If only we could have done this without a stalker watching our every move.
She pointedly ignored the mostly invisible monster. When they were done, Sakura wanted the next stall to be a dessert one. Gaara pulled a face at the sweets before him, and Sakura laughed at the way he fake-coughed like it would get him out of helping her choose something.
Gaara turned his nose up at the dumplings and imagawayaki that Sakura had pointed out, making her giggle more like she was a real girl on a date this time. He really didn’t like sweets. There was no fried ice-cream, which she assumed he’d like better, but she convinced him to try some savory senbei. He didn’t flinch at the taste, and she grinned at him like she’d won a prize. His skin flushed a light pink, but he said nothing.
This merchant also refused his money and Sakura found herself comforting Gaara’s obvious unease by rubbing her hand along his lower back. The move surprised them both but except for a moment’s hesitation, she didn’t let it stop her from continuing. Until their food came and she focused on the task of consuming her dumplings without choking from embarrassment.
Their final vendor was a tea stand. This owner was just as impressed by the appearance of the Kazekage and finally, Gaara didn’t bother feeling too awkward about their insistence regarding payment. They took their green tea and decided to stroll out of the district, side by side, arms down, hands brushing against each other every now and then. And like naïve teenagers who’d never done anything romantic before, they wore identical looks of shyness and happiness. It was a great feeling. An unfamiliar feeling, for them both.
“I’m proud of you, Gaara.”
He blinked at her. “I should say the same.”
She smiled as they moved away, the food stalls gave way to a larger area. The food here came in restaurant size, but they bypassed it, keeping to the edge. But all good things do come to an end.
Because I’m a freak.
There was a commotion. Not a violent one by the sounds of it, but it seemed that some people were making a fuss in a crowd nearby. Yelling. Whooping. Drunken noises. Sounds that mimicked festivities that had gotten out of hand. The crowd was larger than Sakura was used to, and she hesitated on the threshold. She closed her eyes for a second to control her breathing, taking a small, unconscious step away from it. Her heart was racing again, her palms sweaty. Gaara stood silently and patiently beside her. He touched her arm softly when it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Are you okay?”
She couldn’t nod or speak, just trying to focus on her breathing. Her ears were ringing but it came and went quickly. Sakura grasped Gaara’s hand that had touched her, startling him. He took the hint and led her away from it. There were more commotions, but not as loud or out of control this time. The people were just having fun. Sakura didn’t know what had drawn their attention as she was not focusing on anything other than moving her feet and how warm Gaara’s hand felt against her skin.
And as they came to the edge of these newer sounds, she didn’t hesitate. “Let’s have a look.”
“Are you sure?”
He clearly was worried she wouldn’t be able to handle it, and he had reason to. She wasn’t exactly exuding confidence. But Sakura wanted to go down there and just check it out, at least. To find out what had drawn the attention of so many if not the usual things attributed to festivities, like games or fireworks. They didn’t have to stay for long. Just long enough to satisfy her curiosity.
Sakura reached out and entwined their hands before she could stop herself out of embarrassment. “I’ll squeeze your hand when I want to leave.”
He nodded, swallowing heavily and gently squeezing her hand in affirmation.
Okay, then.
Sakura took a deep breath. I can do this.
She’d already endured the inquisitive stares of the scattered people at the street stalls; this was just another step in the right direction. And if she could do all that under the eye of the Root, then she could do anything. It was just another challenge to overcome. And she so desperately wanted to overcome it.
They were recognised of course, and more than one set of eyes drifted to their entwined hands. Her skin felt clammy all of a sudden and a light squeeze from Gaara both set her heart aflutter and calmed her nerves. They only stayed for a few minutes. The lights were bright and the people, laughing and swaying, were loud and friendly. But she’d finally had enough.
Masks.
It was a mask gathering, themed not unlike the Matsuri festival back in Konoha. Not everyone was wearing a mask but there were small groups of impromptu dancers and some scattered musicians. They had the appearance of entertainers who had just come off some kind of travelling troupe but didn’t look out of place. Not like her. Sakura felt underdressed all of a sudden but pushed that anxiety down.
She gently squeezed Gaara’s hand, and he immediately steered them to a path that would lead away from the festivities. Like the interconnected paths she imagined it also led to the thoroughfare. But they didn’t get a chance to use it. There was a cry of something that sounded like frustration and excitement to her right and Sakura stiffened as a clearly very drunk civilian came stumbling as quickly as he could towards them. He made flailing motions with his arms, his face twisted in a grin and nonsensical words on his slurred and unintelligible tongue.
Ugly, rotten teeth. Polished and dangerous.
That peel of laughter wasn’t coming from the drunkard. It was seeping out of the shadows.
Sakura reeled, almost falling over. Gaara held her and she gripped his hand so hard she would’ve broken his sand armour if he’d bothered to wear it. The lights and sounds of the festivities brightened and blinded her. Hazy and screaming. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t ask Gaara for help. She couldn’t do a damn thing.
But true to his promise, Gaara was pulling her to him, flush against his chest. Sand whipped up around them, scaring off the drunkard. Sakura closed her eyes as the Kazekage teleported them away. When her feet hit the ground, she let her head fall forward onto Gaara’s chest. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back as he attempted to soothe her. Face pressed against his chest. Ascending numbers flashing through her mind’s eye. Breathing. Leaning into his embrace. Her body sagged. But she was calming down.
The Shadow is gone.
Sakura lost count of those ascending numbers, not knowing how long it really took for her to come back to herself. But she did. And Gaara moved with her as she pulled away, peering at her. Assessing her. Like he cared. She was learning to love those pale green eyes of his.
Fuck it. Why are you so good to me?
“Why…”
Gaara hushed her as she lost that train of thought. She looked around, realising she did not recognise the area he’d teleported them to. Sakura’s head swivelled around several times as she tried to take in the view. They were in what looked like a forest sanctuary. Or rather the kind of forest that Suna could provide with limited resources. The colour green was everywhere. Gardens. Stone pathways. And a dome nearby that screamed, “there’s a greenhouse inside me!”.
“Where are we?”
“The west gardens,” Gaara said. “This area is out of bounds. Only select individuals are allowed here, and only with my permission.”
More places the Shadow can’t reach.
She felt special. And she loved the place on sight. The foreboding pressure had released, and Sakura suddenly felt lighter than air. “Okay, give me a tour,” she said, not having to force her face to smile.
Gaara nodded, gently taking her hand once more. She soaked it all in as they walked along the path and he explained what she was seeing, in that simple but intelligent way of his. On paper, his words would sound clipped, but they came out so serene and husky that Sakura found herself hypnotised by them.
His voice.
She sighed. They found a bench and she let go of his hand before lowering herself onto it. She felt very nervous as Gaara sat beside her. Inches apart. She couldn’t decide which was worse: the way her libido occasionally went into overdrive around him or her current uncomfortable feeling like she was some virginal teenager who didn’t know how to behave in her own skin.
A shock of light and sound. Sakura whipped her head to the side in time to see an explosion of fireworks. She jumped to her feet quickly and scanned the horizon. Gaara stood and mimicked her pose.
“I forgot about that,” he said slowly, and she understood. This was a rare occurrence. Which meant she didn’t want to miss it.
Sakura took his hand and pulled him along as she raced towards it. Still in the gardens, they found the edge of the gardens that overlooked a significant portion of the village and she let herself fall backwards onto the grass. Gaara chuckled as he lay next to her. They had a great view of the fireworks erupting above the village.
They lay next to each other silently, just watching, leaning back on their elbows, and just enjoying the company. Eventually, the fireworks began to die down and, even though there was no hint of it on the horizon, Sakura was sure the sun wouldn’t be far away.
“Thank-you,” she said softly.
“You’re welcome.”
The stars twinkled. The blackness unable to mask their delight. She smiled at that observation. Sakura wanted to just lay here forever. Forget the Root shadow. Forget Danzo. Forget the council and Sajō and whomever it was that was colluding with the usurper Hokage. She just wanted to lie next to Gaara and forget the world. Or maybe she was more worried about getting too comfortable. The night was very, very late. She suppressed a yawn and had to physically stop herself from just flopping onto her back, in fear she’d fall asleep here and never wake up. Gaara, on the other hand, looked well rested. Or just not tired. Whichever.
She turned her gaze back to the stars. The blinking contrast between sparkles and darkness reminded her suddenly of her ink creatures. The light against the black ink sky. The way they seemed to fight each other for dominance. Yet nothing changed.
For almost a month, Sakura had been trying to find her way. Either a way out of the village or a way out of her own head. A path forward, made of the same stones as the ones in these gardens. And definitely not populated by the noisy nighttime carousers. But now, lying next to Gaara and wondering what this night would mean for their non-relationship, Sakura knew suddenly what to do. It was so very clear now.
She sat up straight and turned to face her fake fiancé turned real date, surprising him. He mirrored her movements, openly curious.
“Gaara,” she said. “I made ink creatures.”
Curiosity turned to confusion on his face. “Creatures?”
“Yes, chakra infused creatures made of ink.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her but remained silent.
“They’re hiding in my bathroom right now,” she added, knowing how weird that sounded.
“Why?”
“Why did I make them or why are they hiding?”
“Both.”
Sakura sighed. “I don’t think it’s a surprise that I didn’t choose to come here. Not under my own volition, anyway.” He nodded. “I… have wanted to leave the moment I arrived.” He didn’t look surprised. “The past few years all I could think of was getting away from Danzo. Especially the last six months, with him sending me on suicide runs.”
Gaara’s eyes widened. “He–”
“Let me get this out, please?”
He nodded again.
She cleared her throat. “I’m an idiot though. Every chance I got to get away, I squandered. Every moment in which I could slip away unseen, I freeze like my life depends on it. On my last mission I almost did leave. I saw the Konoha gate come up as I approached… it was so achingly familiar but alien at the same time. Everything about the Leaf is so… wrong, now. I wanted to get away from it. But I didn’t. Couldn’t bring myself to.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just as useless–”
“Stop.” Gaara scowled at her. “Don’t say that.”
Sakura hadn’t answered his question yet, but he suddenly didn’t seem to care. He rose to his knees and took her hands in his. They were warm and safe and not what she would’ve thought possible. Not for her.
“Sakura…” he trailed off for a moment. “it’s called self-sabotage. People do it to themselves, for years at a time even. It doesn’t make them useless. Or stupid. Or any other thing you’re thinking about yourself right now. None of that is true. I… spoke with a civilian therapist,” he said quickly, and she realised her surprise must’ve registered on her face.
A civilian therapist?
“I know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Its clinical term is Behavioural Dysregulation.”
It was a conscious (or unconscious) habit of doing things that were bad for oneself. It didn’t take a degree in clinical psychology to have heard of it, she supposed. Sakura had done quite a lot of reading on that subject, and similar, before everything went to shit. Lady Tsunade had wanted to begin incorporating mind healing into Konoha’s medical training facility.
Sakura gave a sad smile at that memory.
“Do you think…” Gaara cleared his throat. “You’d talk to one too? About… everything.”
Sakura pulled a face. “I don’t think a civilian would understand.”
The one Tsunade had proposed would’ve included both civilian and ninja therapists, though.
“Right.”
She watched Gaara closely as he released her hands and turned his head away. What he was looking at, she couldn’t tell. But his silence had an air of disappointment and contemplativeness to it.
Well, this sucks.
“I created them to scout out the village.”
He looked at her sharply.
At least he’s looking at me now.
“So, I could see the weakness in the guard patrols and escape.”
“Have you?”
She shook her head. There was no relief on his face, only contemplation. And… was he curious about them?
She decided to presume he was. “You want to see them?”
“I’m curious.”
Sakura flushed. “O-okay.”
They stood quickly and awkwardly. For a moment, neither of them moved, but then the warmth of his hand enveloped hers; his free arm snaking around her waist and holding her tightly. Gaara teleported them directly into her bedroom. Sakura trembled lightly as her feet hit the floor, but whether from nerves or the return of her libido she wasn’t sure. Her skin tingled, so maybe it was excitement. She pulled out of his grip quickly.
“Wait here,” she said and Gaara obeyed. She rushed into the bathroom and low and behold, the bird and snake were still holding onto the carcass.
Snake, she thought. I’ll call the ink snake ‘snake’ and the real, dead one ‘serpent’.
But the question that she needed to answer, and quickly before Gaara grew impatient, was whether or not to bring both. Sakura still wanted to keep secrets from him. She liked him. She trusted him. But she also didn’t trust her faith in him. Some things she just didn’t want to share.
But I told him I made creatures. As in, plural.
She sighed. She could always make more, anyway.
“Let go of the carcass,” she said softly, hoping Gaara didn’t have superhuman hearing. The ink bird released its hold while the snake curled its body for a moment, tightening the hold like a child refusing to behave. Then it was releasing it, dropping the carcass carelessly.
As she stood up, Sakura caught the reflection of herself in the bathroom mirror. It was very different to the underfed and ghastly image she’d seen the last time. She paused then smiled and turned away.
“Come on,” she told them, and the bird hopped along the floor after her. The snake seemed hesitant, and Sakura wondered if maybe she’d done something wrong.
She reached down to grab it, and it quickly wrapped its body around her arm gently as she left the bathroom. The bird twittered as it followed and then screeched at the sight of Gaara. He raised an eyebrow at it. Sakura had no idea it could do that. It didn’t have a syrinx, or any kind of noise making membranes, in its windpipe or otherwise. She wondered if it was just because of her. Sai had never mentioned anything about his creations having the ability to make noise, let alone having personalities.
I’m cracked so they are too.
It made no sense, but she supposed it didn’t matter.
It’s probably all just in my head.
Gaara watched them curiously. Sakura watched him nervously. He made no reaction to the noises the bird was making so she decided it was just all in her head. Even if he did twitch slightly when it went to peck him. Fake birds were not faster than a Kazekage. She decided to give him a rundown of her intentions with the creatures. He listened with rapt attention and Sakura found herself becoming more and more excited that someone was hearing this. Finally. She was rambling but it was kind of fun to have someone else to share this with.
“You used them to scout the village perimeter?” He asked when her rambling finally came to an end.
Sakura nodded, unable to stop the flush from heating up her neck. Was it okay that she’d done that? Probably not. But he didn’t seem put out. Maybe he was thinking about how it could help with that councillor? Or the entire council. Or maybe it was just her wishful thinking.
“What will you do with them now?”
So much for him thinking of this strategically.
“I want to help you.”
Gaara stood and walked over to her. He stopped inches in front of her. The movement could be confused with an attempt to intimidate her, but she knew he wouldn’t do that. Instead of trying to stare her down or talk her out of it, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The small part of her that still responded to romantic and kind gestures was weak at the knees right now. Not the rest of her. Just the girlish side. She swallowed heavily, overwhelmed with gratitude.
“Okay,” he said finally.
“Okay?”
He smiled. “Okay.”
Sakura laughed. “Okay.”
The way he was looking at her… she desperately wanted to kiss him. Or for him to kiss her. But she knew he wouldn’t. Gaara would not presume such a forward action. He was poised. He was a gentleman. But gods did she want him to toss that aside and just fucking snog her. Maybe get in a few gropes and pelvis grinding.
Sakura forced herself to relax, realising she’d tensed up the more she contemplated the idea of Gaara pressing her against the wall. He didn’t look fazed by her weird demeanour. The snake tightened itself around her arm for a moment, but she ignored it. It wasn’t important. Trying to figure out whether or not to grab the Kazekage and pull his face down to meet her in a soul-searing kiss was important.
She cleared her throat.
“It’s late,” he said suddenly. “I should go.”
There was a flush on his face she’d overlooked in her internal musing. She was proud of herself for that. But her stomach clenched at the thought of letting him leave right now. She nodded though. It was very late. They were both going to be sleeping in a little longer in the morning.
All that does is make me wonder what he looks like first thing in the morning. Fuck.
What were the protocols here? Kiss him on the cheek? On the mouth? Make-out heavily then act like it was no big deal? Pepper him with kisses along his jawline, down to his neck and… fuck.
Focus.
Gods. Her libido again. She wanted to give into it so bad. But Gaara wasn’t moving, and she had to make a decision. She decided to just go with a peck on the cheek. It could be excused away much easier. Sakura stood higher to peck his cheek softly but couldn’t bring herself to pull away once her lips touched him. The warmth of his skin, the bright tinging of his ears; he was as excited as she was. That’s what she told herself. Why else would her lips against him make him blush?
Maybe I could…
She took a chance and turned her face towards his. They were closer than they’d ever been, now breathing in each other’s air. Sakura remained on her tiptoes. Gaara lowered his head slightly, but not far enough.
Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.
When he licked his lips, she knew. Sakura tilted her chin up, angled her head to keep from knocking their noses together and pressed her lips to his softly. Their eyes closed at the same time. She parted her lips to envelop his then tugged on his bottom lip gently before pulling away completely. At the last moment, he’d opened his mouth slightly in a gasp.
No tongues were used in the making of this fucking perfect first kiss.
It was a chaste way to the end the night and despite her body wanting, no demanding more, she maintained their newfound distance, pressing a hand against his chest as they both recovered from it. Gaara had responded to her kiss, albeit in a small way. That was enough. She would continue this with him later, now that she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him. It was late and she was suddenly very, very tired.
After a few moments, he hastily repeated his goodbyes in that cool but cute bumbling way she’d learned to love and left.
She smiled widely. For the first time for a long time, Sakura could say she was profoundly happy.
.:.
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ashrillvenheim · 1 year
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Awakening Past
Chapter 9
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pairing: Ashley Graham x Leon S Kennedy.
Content: (+18) romance, angst, gore, erotic/suggestive themes at some point, slow burn, violence, action, self-harm, death talk,
If you're a MINOR or feel uncomfortable with any of these genres or ships, please DON'T keep reading, thank you.
Archive of our own / WORK LIST / Awakening Past Masterlist
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The cups clinked against each other. Water echoed like a mantra in the air, sliding between objects. The continuous hum of the oven became an enveloping echo, putting the cook in a trance. A deep voice hummed in the background. 
Pum
He removed the pasta from the water and placed it on some dry cloths. He followed with the filling and tomato sauce. He skimmed the instructions on his laptop, which rested on the kitchen island. His mind, totally focused, read carefully so as not to skip any steps, and just in case, he set timers so he wouldn't forget anything.
He wanted to get it right. Because he could do it right.
Pum
He lifted the lid and his stomach growled at the delicious smell that emerged from the pan. His blue eyes swept over the various items strewn across the countertop. Fortunately today Henry had let him sleep in and he had woken up at nine o'clock, which was unusual for him and thankfully he felt rested.
Since he had gotten there he slept better. He ran his hands through the water and dried them on a rag which he then threw over his shoulder. He had to admit that the morning was flying by, as it had been a long time since he had done any serious cooking. It might have been that those two years he had been working more in security than in missions, but the president's schedule didn't allow him to spend many hours at home. He had fallen out of the habit, and the burnt meatballs were proof of that. So better to focus on one thing.
Pum
Speaking of getting things done.
Pum
“ Don't you have anything better to do?”  his voice was directed at the body lying in his living room, which was throwing a tennis ball to the ceiling and then picking it up.
“ I'm doing something. “ the female voice replied.
“ You call spending half the morning lying on my living room floor something?”
The ball stayed in her hand a few seconds longer, as if her mind was remembering something, and then she threw it again.
“ It helps me study.”
“ You have such strange ways of studying.”  He paused and approached the room with his arms crossed. “And may I ask why in my house?”
She turned to look at him with her amber eyes.
“ Do you know how hungry I am since you started cooking? It doesn't smell like dog here so I can enjoy the food alone.”
“ Have you come to my house to smell my cooking process?”
“ And eat the result clearly.”
Leon arched his eyebrows with a derisive laugh.
“ Excuse me, I think I got confused, who did you say the dogs are in your house?”
He caught the ball like lightning and sketched his trademark lopsided grin. Ashley looked up from the ground at him with the same gesture.
“ I'm going to beat you up one of these days.” she snorted.
“ You want to fight? I've got more experience than you, you know.”
Ashley sat down cross-legged.
“ I might be able to put you on the spot.”
The man's eyebrow arched.
“ Are you challenging me?”
“ Next week, in the gym, after the biology exam.”
Leon stared at her trying to decipher whether she was serious or just pulling his leg.
He was foolish to think she was joking.
“ I'm going to kick your ass.” the agent's tone of voice grew menacingly aggravated, sending soft shivers through her body.
“ You're not going to hold back because I'm the president's daughter?” she joked, testing the waters.
“ Are you going to do it because I'm your bodyguard?”
“ Not a bit.”
“ Same to you.”
The timer went off, startling them both and making Leon walk back to the kitchen. He stirred the sauce in the pan and tasted it.
“ Hey Ash, come here for a minute.”
Without a second thought she got up and like an obedient puppy stood next to him. She watched Leon pick up a wooden spoon and fill it with some steaming gravy. He blew gently with one hand underneath so none of it would fall and held it up to Ashley's mouth.
“ I want to know if it's to your liking.”
She leaned over and Leon moved closer. Ashley took the spoon in her mouth and her eyes widened like saucers. She didn't move and Leon thought, for a second, that he had broken her. He tried to pull the spoon out, but she held it tightly making the man laugh.
“ Can I take it then that it's good?”
Ashley dropped the spoon and tasted noisily. The agent laughed at the happiness in the woman's expression and wiped the corner of her lip with his thumb without thinking. She tingled at the gentle caress, but shook her head to calm the growing sensation.
“ You can get back on the floor now.” the man teased, winking at her. 
Ashley grunted.
“ I'm hungry..." she mumbled, shuffling her feet and plopping down on the couch. 
She almost choked as she smelled Leon's scent multiplied on the cushions. She felt her muscles relax as she inhaled softly.
“ Be patient, I'll be done in thirty minutes.”
Another grunt, drowned out by the pillows on Ashley's face, reached him.
Leon began to assemble the lasagna in the bowl in silence, listening to Ashley's deep breathing as she lay on her stomach.
“ Are you gonna fall asleep?” he smiled, pouring the sauce over the pasta.
He heard a chuckle.
“- So you can eat all the food by yourself? No way, I was just thinking about next week.”
“ It's the last stretch, you'll be fine.” he paused, adding mockingly. “ I can always threaten the teacher to pass you.”
“ Just smile and ask them please, I'm sure they would get down on their knees.”
“ I don't have psychic powers.”
“ No, you're just a blue-eyed demon with the devil's smile and the charisma of a swindler.”
Leon put the food in the oven and scoffed.
“ I don't know whether to be flattered or terribly insulted.”
“ I'll let you decide.”
The agent took off his apron and put the rag aside to head into the living room. He stood in front of Ashley with his arms crossed.
“ Can her majesty grant me a small piece of her vast domain?”
Ashley cocked her head to one side with a crooked smile.
“ It's my couch now.”
Leon nodded.
“ And now I have a burglar in the house, you're under arrest for trespassing.”
Ashley shrieked as she felt hands on her waist try to lift her up like a sack. She turned quickly on herself, pulling out of the grip, but felt it in her side. The agent's fingers pressed into her ribs and shocks coursed through her body. Ashley squirmed in desperate laughter at the tickling.
“ NO! Please! STOP!” she exclaimed trying to wriggle away from him, but Leon drove his knee into the edge of the couch and grabbed her tightly, a devilish grin plastered on his lips.
“ You brought this on yourself Miss Graham. “ he scoffed, watching as Ashley curled into a ball, trying to protect herself with her forearms.
“ Okay! I'm moving!”
“ Ah ah, it's too late.”
Leon grinned and tortured her until she bounced off the couch and onto the floor. Ashley grunted at the blow and the man laughed sitting down in his usual corner. She looked at him indignantly and got up.
“ Have you got angry your majes-”
Cutting off his sentence she threw herself on the opposite side and landed her legs on Leon's thighs, tensing him all at once.
“ That was cheating.” She muttered looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to hide her blush. He smiled and dropped his head back, leaning back. His blue gaze was riveted on the lamp above him, as if in it lay the answer to all his problems. Though the real reason was so he wouldn't stare at the smooth bare legs in his lap.
The two of them stood in silence for a few long minutes, listening to the hum of the oven and the clatter of the cheese melting.
“ I'm nervous.”
Leon blinked suddenly and straightened up to look at Ashley, who was still focused on the ceiling.
“ Why would you be?”
Because she couldn't afford to fail.
Because what she saw a year and a half ago was something that had to be taken care of and if she failed and didn't graduate she wouldn't be able to prepare for an expedition. 
She couldn't use Narsson, not when she knew nothing of her real motivations.
She couldn't bring her into it. 
There was only her.
No.
She was no longer alone.
There were people who had gone through that one.
“ After so much effort I know it's harder to fail, but I can't help but feel that little bit of anguish.”
Leon's chuckle made her look at him and prop herself up on her elbows.
“ Would it surprise you if I told you I went through the same thing at the Academy?”
Ashley smiled and stood up, still with her legs over him. He rested his arm on the back of the couch.
“ The infamous Leon Kennedy nervous about an exam?” she joked, and this time the smile on the agent's face was sincere, even a little... sad.
“ So was I when I applied for the position in Raccoon City, when I went on my first mission as an agent, when I went on my second, and when they sent me after you.”  his blue orbs sank into her with a tinge of nostalgia. - every time I've had some important event I've gotten nervous and I still do.
Ashley leaned back on her arm looking at him with a curious air.
“ Well, you don't look like it. When... you came for me in Spain you seemed... stone. At first I thought you were immutable.”
“ Yeah, maybe I give that impression, I guess in this job you have to show your emotions as little as possible.” His gaze lowered to his lap where Ashley's legs rested and he noticed subtle, barely visible marks.
Scars.
His hand moved unconsciously and he touched with his fingertips some of them as he continued to speak. - But there are times when I think I lose the ability to feel, to... be human.
The hair on the back of Ashley's neck stood up at the shocks of those fingers on her skin. But she didn't move. She listened to him, wanted to hear him open up to her.
She cherished those moments when he decided to confide his feelings to her.
“ But you know what?” it was a soft voice, barely a whisper that reached his ears, turning to his golden eyes waiting for her to follow. - I have never thought you were less human, in fact, as I have gotten to know you I have seen that you are more human than some people, Leon. No matter how many missions you do, there are things you can never stop feeling, because if you did, it would be like losing your reason of being.
Leon's hand stopped and rested his palm on her twin enjoying the softness of her skin.
“ Wow, Miss Graham, you seem to have some experience, may I ask from where?”
She smiled.
“ You flatter me Mr. Kennedy. Let's just say I once knew a man from whom I learned things that neither books nor professors can teach.” Her lips broke into a sweet smile that melted him beyond repair. “ Maybe I can introduce you to him someday, he's a grouch, but he's a good person.”
And then she would tell him that he was the charismatic one. 
When she smiled like that and talked like that, it was hard not to be swept away. Her voice filled him up and rocked him hopelessly. She knew how to talk to him, how to soften him up and make him unable to say no to her. There were times he hated that she knew him so well but deep down, he was grateful to have a person he simply surrendered to without feeling vulnerable, if not accompanied.
He patted her legs supportively with a smile.
“ You'll do fine. You can always try again, but you've studied hard, you've turned in all your assignments and you understand the subject matter, trust your instincts like you did when you came looking for me all the way to the other end of a government camp.”
Ashley reddened at the show she put on two and a half years ago and laughed nervously pulling her legs away from the man's lap, both feeling the sudden chill on their skins.
Leon got up to go get the food out of the oven and Ashley jumped off the couch as the delicious smell flooded the room. Leon set the platter down on a board and brought out the serving dishes.
Ashley watched him like a cat from across the isle. Her amber eyes fixed on the agent's broad back and her mouth salivating at the intense smell.
“ I don't know if you're going to eat me or the plate.” he joked, grabbing some silverware and taking it to the dining room.
Ashley took the plates and joined him.
“ You might make a good side dish, with a little sauce you're sure to be tasty.”
This time it was Leon who rolled his eyes and heard her laugh as they both sat down and Ashley poured the drinks.
“ Is this lemonade?” Leon asked looking at the glass and taking a sip.
“ Yeah, I haven't made it in a while and now that it's starting to get hot I think it was a good time.”
The agent tasted it in his mouth. The taste of summer, of sun and heat against his bare skin. The sweetness that slid across his tongue like a caress accompanied by a subtle acidity and fruity touch.
“ It's delicious.” he told her, taking another sip and seeing how she smiled gratefully, taking a piece of the lasagna.
“ Let's see how it is.”
She blew on the steaming bite and then chewed. Leon watched her for any sign of displeasure, but saw nothing.
He only perceived the dilated pupils of her surprised eyes and her cheeks flushed with happiness.
“ It's... amazing... Leon, I've never tasted such a good one.” the joy in her tone caused his heartbeat to subtly quicken.
“ I'm glad you like it.�� he ate this time, feeling the excitement run up and down his body.
And so it was, a quiet Sunday lunch followed by a calm afternoon.
Leon suggested going for a walk with the dogs to calm Ashley's nerves. There were times when they chatted, times when they stood in silence listening to the wind move the branches.
The sun passed through the leaves timidly, occasionally catching glints in their hair. The dogs ran and played with some of the children in the park. Those who recognized the animals turned to greet their owner and she responded, even approaching them to ask how they were doing.
That and trying not to die every time they turned to Leon and asked if he was her boyfriend.
“ No, I'm an old friend she hadn't seen in a while." he would reply each time, with a smile trained to perfection.
Ashley would have to get used to it, at least until the mercenaries' intentions became clear.
Then they would probably send Leon and Patrick to investigate about it and split up again.
She didn't mind. She was happy to see that he was safe and sound. She might want to continue to maintain a relationship through messages, she didn't want to lose the friendship she had acquired this past month.
They lost track of time and found themselves at the other end of the neighborhood in the middle of the sunset. The small hill they had climbed allowed them to see the vast fields stretching out in front of them. The warm rays caressed their faces gently and the reflections shone in their eyes.
Leon turned to his protégé and was struck by the way the light reflected off her amber orbs and blonde hair.
She looked like she was made of gold.
Her irises sparkled as bright as freshly polished amber and her golden hair, pulled back in a small half-ponytail, waved playfully.
Sunset was definitely her color. All those warm tones enveloped her like fire.
Ashley felt the agent's gaze and turned to him.
“ Is something wrong?” she asked with a smile.
“ I was just thinking.”
“ Can I know what?”
How long would it last, that calm, what would happen once the truth about the mercenaries came out? 
He liked that quiet, a breath of fresh air in eight years that he didn't think he'd ever have again. He was working, yes, but he felt free from the chains he used to have. He wanted to treasure all that time and although he knew it was selfish and irresponsible, a part of him wished the mercenary would never regain his memory.
But he knew it wouldn't last.
That it was all destined to end.
He didn't know if it was right to keep Ashley's number and chat with her when he wasn't there anymore.
She was still the president's daughter and he was a secret department agent. Maybe when her father's candidacy ended it wouldn't be the same, or... no.
He didn't want to think about that. It was just conjecture that wasn't going anywhere.
He smiled back at Ashley.
“ I'm going to have to change my exercise routine this week, I've been eating too much lately." 
She laughed playfully and reached over to him to suddenly pinch his waist.
Leon jumped looking at her in bewilderment.
“ You can give me what's left over from the lasagna if you think it's too much.”
“ Try to take it from me if you can.”
Like lightning he ran down the hill, swearing to her that there would be no more of that dish. Ashley called after him and ran after him like a gazelle.
Yes, this was fine, they liked it.
**
And so came exam week.
One week.
Five days to define whether she was qualified to graduate or not.
Ashley went into her first test with her heart in her throat, but her bodyguard managed to calm her down with a freshly made hot chocolate in the morning.
She had to admit she was glad to have him by her side.
She managed to focus on the three and a half hours each exam lasted. Leon would stand at the entrance guarding the room and every now and then a few professors would approach him for a chat. There was even one who asked him to cover for a few minutes while he went to the bathroom.
At the time she never believed that chalk could be lethal.
The rest of the day Ashley kept referring to him as "Professor Kennedy". It turns out that some students believed that without the teacher they could take advantage and cheat on the test.
What they didn't know was that Leon had the eyesight of a hawk.
And the aim of an angry llama.
Those two students were hit with a chalk each, but no one saw when he threw them, but it was enough for Leon to walk down the center aisle that they didn't even think to talk back.
It was a special case, but what fun it was to see him in the role of supervisor.
His serious and intimidating demeanor kept the students from staring at him, only when he turned around did they stare at those jeans that looked so good on his glutes.
Yes, maybe for some people he was more of a distraction than anything else.
Shortly thereafter the professor returned and he went back to his corner.
It was rather monotonous
They would arrive at the university, stop by to see the lists so they knew which classroom to go to, and Leon would wait for Ashley at the entrance. Then they would go to the cafeteria for a drink or lunch, depending on when their second exam was.
Leon would ask her some questions about the subject matter to help her with the final revisions.
That's how they spent Monday and Tuesday.
Wednesday was more or less the same. They went to see Narsson first, chatted with Maria and Patrick and during that time Ashley took the opportunity to work some more on her final presentation.  Leon watched as she put on her headphones while she wrote and subtly bobbed her head up and down.
“ Hunnigan told me that the president is thinking of contacting the BSAA” Patrick informed in Leon's ear.
“ They may be related to some of... you know.” Patrick asked, looking at Kennedy. He stared at the table as the pencil fiddled between his fingers.
“ If so, it means that whoever hired them has a special interest in that type of weapon.” he paused. “ But what do Narsson and Ashley have to do with it?”
The three of them were silent. They hated being in the shadows regarding the investigation into the attempted kidnapping of Narsson. Leon was even beginning to wonder if the mercenary had remembered more than the doctors credited him with.
“ He also told me that the boss has asked Hunnigan to have a personal debriefing with him.”
“ Uff, I pity the mercenary, Hunnigan has no mercy.”  laughed Leon.
“ Hey Ashley.”  Narson caught the blonde's attention in her native tongue. “  Could you come with me to the doctor's appointment today?”
Leon looked up at Ashley and saw her hand stop.
“ Do I have to go?”
“ Sasha has family business to attend to and Maria has paperwork pending. Come on, you got out of the week you had to take me.”
Ashley stared at the papers. 
It was true that she had gotten out of taking her to the hospital the week after the accident, thanks to Sasha and Patrick, but this time they weren't there to get her out of that one too.
“ Is it going to be long?”
“ Just sign off on the checkup and return the crutches.”
Her student ended up sighing in defeat.
“ Okay”
Narsson smiled cheerfully.
“ Thank you.”
The blue gaze shifted to his protégé and she raised her head to meet him.
“ We have to make a short stop at the hospital.”  Her voice was almost a whisper.
She knew Leon wasn't fond of health centers either and didn't like having to drag him to places uncomfortable for him, but she saw him nod with nothing to add. She wondered how many times he would have passed through the hands of doctors since Raccoon City and after all the missions he'd been sent on since then.
“ How is the presentation going? “ she then heard Narsson speak for everyone's understanding.
“ Well, I am organizing the last points for the presentation.”
Emma nodded.
“ Tomorrow I have the meeting with the rest of the defense jury, I will let you know who the professors are.”
“ Thank you.”
“ When do you have the work presentation?” Maria's voice reached her.
“ Next week, but I want to finish these preparations to have the weekend off, I want to rest.”  She made some last notes in her notebook and looked at the time.
She gathered her things to head to her exam.
“ I will come for you when the test is over.” she said to Narsson in her language.
The greenish eyed woman smiled and nodded and then wished her luck on the exam.
“ You can stay here, Leon, the classroom is very close.” she said, wanting him to chat more with Maria and Patrick.
“ And miss the chance to throw chalk at the cheaters? no way.”
They both laughed and said goodbye.
This test was the easiest of all for Ashley. She finished it in barely an hour. From the moment she turned the page, she hadn't taken her pen down. 
Leon remembered his theory test at the Academy, when he was told that he looked possessed when he concentrated on answering all the questions accurately. In his mind he couldn't help but sketch a smile.
There were things about him that he saw in Ashley that were similar and at the same time different. It was a curious thing.
As the hour passed Leon saw her look up at the window. The sky had clouded over and the first drops began to hit the glass.
She rested her chin on her palm and stared outside as she twirled the pen in her other hand.
The musty smell flooded the room and the rattle of the drops echoed off the walls. Ashley looked preoccupied, engrossed in an infinite spot on the University lawn.
The occasional chair could be heard sliding and a couple of students handed in their exams with pale faces. Ashley shook her head and took the opportunity to hand hers in. 
She and Leon walked out of the classroom into the empty hallway.
He turned to her when he didn't hear her utter a word.
“ Is something wrong?”
The woman frowned subtly.
“ No... but I feel... a strange sensation, like a bad feeling.” She paused and then waved her hand, playing it down. “ It's probably just nerves. I still have some exams left.”  she turned to him. - Besides, we have the fight tomorrow pending.
Leon laughed, putting his hands in his pockets.
“ Are you sure? You can still quit.”
“ Need I remind you that I've been training with Dana for over a year and a half?” she smiled mischievously. “ I'm not afraid of you.”
Before she realized it she was cornered against the wall, gloved hands on either side of her head. Leon looked deeply at her, his irises dimly darkened. 
Ashley's heart skipped a beat as she felt so intimidated by the man's strong body so close to hers.
“ Maybe you should, princess.” It was a playful tone, but compounded in warning. His lopsided smile gave him a fierce look and for a second Ashley didn't know what to do. She just looked at him, sinking into those sapphire orbs, feeling cornered... she saw him part his lips again.
“ You want to fight a government agent, gorgeous.”
Gorgeous, that was a new one.
That menacing aura awakened a part of Ashley, making her smile and take half a step toward him, defiantly. Their faces dangerously close and with a glint shining in their eyes.
“ I spent two months watching you fight, maybe you should be careful I've learned your tricks.” Leon's pupils dilated for a second at the purr in Ashley's words, like a feline approaching calmly and elegantly, but ready to attack at any moment.
Knowing that more... threatening side of her... he liked it, and in ways he wouldn't have thought possible.
He dropped his hands without taking his eyes off her, still with that amused gesture on his lips. 
His body vibrated at the situation, that mischievous amber gaze challenging him, inciting him in ways that drove him crazy. He rested his hand on his hip and let out a chuckle.
“ As long as you don't break my neck with that suplex you learned is enough for me.”
She watched him still with their bodies close enough to sense Leon's heat. Ashley reached up and adjusted the collar of the agent's jacket with a mischievous grimace.
“ I have other ways I could break your neck.”
This time it was Leon who was speechless and gave her a puzzled look. He saw her laugh and walk away without giving him any further explanation. He walked after her, but his mind was still on that cornered and confused look, the same as last Saturday, the same as that night in a tiny abandoned cellar.
No, stop it.
He shook his head to push those thoughts away. 
It was neither the time nor the place. None of those memories were supposed to give him all those tingles.
**
Narsson stared at her two escorts, who grunted at the same time. The glass doors slid open and the three of them entered the hospital reception area.
“ You're going to scare people.” Emma told them.  Leon and Ashley clicked their tongues and kept their grumpy dog faces on.
Narsson would never have thought the two hated hospitals so much. What the hell did they live in Europe?
“ We're going to wait for you here.” Ashley said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“ Aren't you coming upstairs with me?”
The blonde arched her eyebrows.
“ Do you need me to sign something?”
“ No.”
“ Then no.”
Narsson snorted a groan and headed for the elevator.
The two stepped aside and leaned against the wall. Leon watched as Ashley's irises sped around the room, then took a deep breath and exhaled with a grunt.
“ I hate the smell of disinfectant.” Leon mumbled, earning a restrained chuckle from Ashley.
“ I'll trade you, I smell everything but disinfectant.”
Her face was serious and calm, though he could sense the discomfort in her slightly twitching fingers.
Ashley sighed and tilted her eyes toward Leon, grateful that she no longer had to raise her head as she had when she first met him.
“ It had been a while since he'd been in the hospital.” she mused, catching the agent's attention.
“ When was the last time? - he asked.
“ Since we got back. If you count my visit to the vet, the second.” she paused to look at him “ and you?”
Leon was quiet for a few seconds. Remembering how he woke up in a hospital in Spain after being pulled out of the mines.
But about that Ashley knew nothing and he could no longer think of a way to tell her without worrying or angering her.
So he opted for what he usually did. Keep it to himself.
“ Since a year and a half or so ago, when I had my checkup after coming back from Spain.“ He fucking hated lying to her.
Ashley watched him for a few moments, waiting for him to add more, but when she saw that was the information he was planning to give her, she looked away, fixing her eyes on the floor.
Sooner or later she had to tell him. Maybe when she managed to form an expedition... maybe then she could finally do it.
She took another breath and tensed.
Leon stretched his neck seeing in the waiting room a lady taking off the stocking covering a bandaged foot to scratch it.  Then he heard his companion move.
He saw Ashley walk over to a nearby nurse.
“ I think that lady needs help.” the blonde pointed out to the woman.
The nurse looked at her quizzically for a moment, but decided to approach the woman just in case.
Ashley returned to Leon's side and a second later the nurse exclaimed for a wheelchair and took the lady away in the blink of an eye.
He turned to the blonde, confused.
“ Did you know that woman?”
She denied.
“ No, but what I smelled needed attention.”
“ I thought you were dizzy from all the smells in the hospital.”
“ Gangrene has a distinctive odor.”
The officer blanched and looked down the hallway where the woman had been taken and then back to her.
“ You may have saved her life.”
“ Maybe, she'll probably lose her foot, but she'll survive.”
Leon was surprised at how calmly she said those words, Sure she's all right?
“ You say that very calmly.”
She shrugged her shoulders looking at him and then she saw that twinkle in his eyes.
“ It makes me sad, I admit it, but I've done what I could, I'm not going to think about what I could have done if I had known it before.”
He listened to her attentively, surprised by her words. Definitely if they had spoken two years ago she would now be nervous about that lady, distressed that she hadn't realized it sooner.
But she was being realistic, something he sometimes struggled to be.
He felt those words like a cool breeze, a subtle reminder that he shouldn't succumb to his guilt monsters, just like they did in Racoon city.
He let out a soft sigh with a chuckle. She kept surprising him.
“ I'm done!”  the two turned toward the source of the voice and saw Narsson turn the corner of the hallway. “ Shall we go?”  she smiled.
Ashley pulled out the car keys and they walked back to the parking lot.
**
“ Are you dating someone Leon?”
The car hit the brakes as a pedestrian appeared out of nowhere. Ashley cursed squeezing the steering wheel and started up again. Leon caught a glimpse of the blonde and let out a snicker towards the teacher.
“ Don't you think that's too direct of a question for your student's bodyguard Professor Narsson?”
“ Oh please, don't be like Ashley, call me Emma. And I don't like to beat around the bush.”
The agent laughed in amusement and leaned his elbow on the passenger side frame grabbing a bottle of water.
“ No, I'm not seeing anyone.”
Narsson watched from the back seat, glancing at the driver for a few seconds and then at her escort.
“ Have you two ever dated?”
Leon almost spit out the water and Ashley hesitated at the constancy of speed.
“ Narsson, please.”  Ashley sighed, massaging her temples.
“ What?”  she replied.
“ We haven't had and don't have that kind of relationship, Enma.” replied the blonde as she stopped at the traffic light. “ We are friends even though he is my bodyguard and if you want to hit on him, please wait until I get out of the car and you two can talk alone.”
“ Wow, and I thought you would tell me some interesting story.”
This time it was Leon who intervened.
“ I don't think this is the best time, Professor Narsson. I don't know what made you think Ashley and I have that kind of relationship, but you're mistaken.”
Emma looked at the driver, analyzing her gestures. She had to admit she was good at keeping her composure. She looked at Leon, calm and unmoving.
“ Now I understand who you've learned from.”  the woman laughed, turning to Ashley and leaning back in the seat. “ You look more alike than I thought.”
Leon looked a little confused as to what Enma was referring to and turned to the driver who spoke before him.
“ In Europe I realized that I had to change a lot of things, of course I was going to look at the example Leon was giving me, he was the only one who could give me advice.”
The agent seemed surprised, but he didn't show it.  He had to admit he was proud of how well she handled awkward situations, but for some reason he felt a faint twinge in his chest.
But Narsson was not one to give up and kept poking her finger in the wound.
“ That's how romantic stories start.”  her voice was mocking and clearly intended to make the driver angry, but she held her ground.
“ We're not in a novel, Emma.”
“ So you don't mind if I steal him away from you for a while?”
“ I'm here you know?”
Ashley stopped the car in the parking lot in front of Narsson's apartment, unbuckled her seatbelt, turned off the engine and got out of the car.
“ Call me when you're done.”
And she closed the door.
The two watched the woman walk along the park walk with her hands in her pockets.
“ She took it better than I thought she would.” Enma then said. Leon arched his eyebrow and sat up in his seat to look at her.
“ Is that what you call taking it well?”
Emma looked into those piercing sapphire eyes.
Maria was pretty, but Leon Kennedy was something.....
“ I thought she'd get more upset. She used to do that before she came to Amherst, a little over a year and a half ago. After that week off she took she came back...different.”
The agent didn't understand what she meant. 
A year and a half ago? When he came back from Spain? What happened to Ashley while he was there? As much as his curiosity was whispering in his ear, he respected Graham's privacy. She had promised him that she would tell him everything after she cleared up any outstanding issues.
He trusted her.
“ Even so, Professor Narsson, I find it unprofessional of you to treat your pupil like this.”
Emma leaned toward him without looking away.
“ I wanted to test the waters.”  she whispered playfully. 
Leon smiled.
“ A very direct way of "testing" things, don't you think?”
“ It's worked for me so far.”
Leon stared at her.
He had to admit she was a beauty. That wavy brown hair that enhanced her greenish eyes and her laughing gaze, accompanied by a faint smile on those soft lips.
“ Do you think it worked?” he smiled teasingly. She looked at him like a feline.
“ Depends, will you take dinner?”
He had to admit she was daring. Ashley had told him a little about her.
Thirty-five years old, intelligent and elegant. Passionate about work, so much so that they used to remind her that there was such a thing as food and water.
It was a tempting offer.
Very tempting considering he hadn't enjoyed someone's company in a long time. He would be called an idiot if he wasted such an opportunity.
And for some reason his mouth didn't listen to the sound of reason.
“ Maybe. When my work is done I could make a small gap in my schedule.”
The woman bowed subtly.
“ I'll see if I can make some time for the day, Agent Kennedy.”
He let out a chuckle and got out of the car and then opened the door for Narsson.
Just as Maria had been told they arrived on time and the agent descended the stairs to the doorway to help her protégée upstairs. 
The woman arched an eyebrow when she didn't see her former protégée.
“ And Ashley?”
Leon laughed and turned back toward the park.
“ The Professor shooed her away.”
Maria turned to Narsson questioningly, but Emma played innocent and asked the man.
“ Aren't you coming up?”
He denied.
“ Ashley wanted to practice for tomorrow, and we have food to make.”
The "we have" sounded curious to Narsson, who smiled and went upstairs with Maria.
Leon said goodbye and walked with his hands in his jacket pockets towards the park. In the distance he saw Ashley sitting on the bench, petting a dog.  He watched her for a few seconds, seeing her smile at the animal a moment before the owner called him and ran off.  She watched the canine walk away with her elbows resting on her knees and then turned her head back to her hands for a few seconds.  With a sigh she looked straight ahead, somewhere in the distance and her smile faded until she was serious and staring blankly.
Leon arched an eyebrow, was she annoyed? He saw her step aside on the bench, having caught his scent from far away. The agent finished walking the distance between them and sat down next to her.
“ Is something wrong?”  he asked, leaning back with his arms outstretched on the wooden backrest. She turned to look at him.
“ No, why do you ask?”
He smiled a gently.
“ Because I know you.”
She stared at him, not knowing what to do for a moment, until she gave up.
She really couldn't when he said those things to her with that deep look, like a bottomless ocean.
She sighed.
“ Even my teacher has fallen for your charm.”
“ It's not my fault I'm so irresistible.” he boasted slyly.
She nudged him for attention and leaned back looking up at the treetops.
“ I'll admit I'm... envious.”
He turned away startled and heart racing.
“ Are you jealous?”
She was silent for a moment.
“ I'm jealous of you.”
Leon looked at her, puzzled, his eyes almost out of their sockets.
“ Of me?”
Ashley sighed, closing her eyes.
“ Don't get me wrong, I envy the ease with which you attract people without them knowing anything about you, how they are swept away by that aura of yours.”
He subtly turned in the seat toward her.
“ I thought you didn't like being approached.”
“ The ones who get close because they know I'm Ashley Graham, the president's daughter. It's just that…” She paused to rest her elbows on her knees again. “ even if it's not true, some people think I'm a whore who spreads my legs on professors' desks and that doesn't help people empathize with me, sometimes it's... hard.”
Leon looked at her, feeling a small pang in his chest.
“ The people I know don't know anything about me Ashley, I can't tell them anything, it's not much different is it?”
“ Well, the bullet scar on your shoulder and my whole back tear is the difference.”
“ That doesn't change anything.” he defended.
Ashley scoffed.
“ Leon, let's face it. A man with a gunshot wound in America is not the same as a woman with a full back tear.”
He looked deeply at her, realization dawning on him now.
Yes, he had to admit she was right. Maybe in his field of work scars were more normalized, but outside of it?
“ Are you... embarrassed by your scar?” he asked softly.
She denied with a smile.
“ No, it gives me pride to a certain extent. I'm not ashamed of the little scars, nor of my hands that haven't been as smooth as they used to be. I don't hate that. It's all part of me, but they are enough things to throw people off and now that I'm somewhat better... I don't mind so much that someone is interested in me even with these marks. I'm human after all and it's been over four years since I've had any...mildly romantic interactions.”
He watched her cheeks redden as her gaze became more elusive.
“ But at the same time I don't know if I'm ready.” she added later. 
Leon was thoughtful, somewhat accelerated by the direction of the conversation, but he took a breath and smiled.
“ It's hard to know these things Ash. Give it time, sometimes they show up when you least expect it. In a coffee you owed, on a last minute errand, pasts that come back... I'm not the best to talk about this, I haven't had a partner since I entered the service, although I do believe that the right people are found when you least expect them, but when you need them the most.”
His own words left him thoughtful, analyzing what they really meant.
"When you least expect them and need them the most."
They both looked down at the ground immersed in memories.
A honk made them both jump in place and Ashley stood up with tense fists. They saw a car next to Graham's and that's when she realized she had parked in handicapped. She motioned to the driver and ran toward the vehicle.
“ Hadn't you noticed? “ laughed the officer trotting alongside.
“ I wanted to get out of the car before Narsson took you into the back seat.”
They both laughed and got into the car to go home.
They were partly thankful, because neither would have known how to get out of the conversation they had gotten themselves into.
**
The hands of the clock echoed in the room, the only element that marked the passing of time.
The rain had been pounding on the windows since early morning and the dark clouds had made it necessary to turn on the lights.
There were sighs of defeat and papers sliding across the tables. The teacher had offered Leon a seat, which he couldn't refuse after sitting still for the previous exam.
He found himself chatting quietly with the lady, an elderly teacher who would be retiring in a few years.
No one tried to do anything strange. They had heard about Leon's unerring aim and his hearing. Partly the officer missed being able to throw chalk at cheating students, but not everything was possible, so he settled for giving them menacing looks.
This was Ashley's last major exam, biology. The next day she only had one last paper due and she would have the weekend to rest and pack up her final work.
And then she would be free.
The teacher looked at the time and announced that there were fifteen minutes left.
Some cried and others got up immediately to turn in the test. 
They walked out into the hallway, also darkened by the storm and looked the opposite way the people were going.
The woman's amber eyes turned to the man who gave a devilish grin.
“ Are you ready to lose?”
She held back a sly laugh.
“ Be careful Agent Kennedy, I've learned a few tricks.”
He cocked his head at her, his ashen brown locks darkening his countenance.
“ I can't wait to find out.”
When they heard the classroom door close as the teacher left, they walked toward the gym.
“ The janitor left me the keys, but we can only stay for a couple of hours.”
“ That's plenty for me.” he scoffed.
“ Are you so sure you're going to win easily?”
His gaze darkened and his lopsided smile was so sensual it almost gave her a heart attack.
“ You're not going to be able to walk for three days.”
Okay. Sometimes she forgot the things that could come out of Leon's mouth.  Ashley felt a tingle run down the back of her neck for a second, imagining for an instant how else he could leave her unable to walk.
" Ashley, focus."
She tried to keep her heart from racing too fast.
She had enough nerves, she didn't need to add sexual tension to the mix.
“ It might be you that gets wrecked, I have a very strong grip.”
Leon almost stumbled.
Ashley gave herself a mental slap. Yeah, well, her mouth could also process her brain's information for a change.
She didn't look at him, she kept walking while screaming inwardly.
Physically it was going to be a challenge.
Mentally? She was starting to regret it....
*
His throat went dry and he almost dropped the bottle.
She had to be kidding.  
A lot about him looking like a statue of Michelangelo, a Playboy model... But had she ever looked in a mirror? 
He saw her take off her pants and she was already dressed in a sports bra and a pair of short leggings. Her strong, tanned body was enhanced under the lights of the gym, which accentuated her musculature.
He had to admit that the climbing and Dana had done an amazing job.
His blue eyes couldn't help but slide down her athletic legs, up those gods sculpted glutes and over to her torso. Now that her back was turned to him he could see more of the scar on the criss-cross shape of her top, not quite, but the size of that wound was perfectly visible.
Yes, truth be told it was intimidating compared to the one on his shoulders. One from a bullet and one from a knife on the other collarbone, the latter a souvenir from Spain.
“ Are you ready?”  her voice brought him out of his thoughts. 
His eyes met those amber irises and he smiled.
He set the bottle down on the side of the tatami and took off his shirt.
"Blessed be the gods " Ashley thought watching those muscles tense. Pausing, for an instant at the knife scar on his right shoulder, making the memories come back to her.
But her thoughts were interrupted when she saw him toss the garment aside and stand at guard.
“ This is your last chance to surrender princess.”
Oh... this time he did. That "princess" had been mocking.
“ So is yours, Mr. Kennedy.”
Leon arched his eyebrow with a surprised smile now she was attacking his age? Apparently she hadn't been amused by the princess thing.
Better. More interesting.
They covered their hands with protective bandages and raised their fists.
Suddenly Leon saw the person in front of him change.
That laughing, cheerful look was gone.
With her hair pulled back and her pupils locked on him she looked like a predator.
Those amber, almost golden eyes looked feline.
Like those of a jaguar.
And he knew she wasn't kidding.
“ The first one to abandon or leave the tatami loses.” his deep voice echoed through the walls.
He saw her nod and they walked in circles. 
Slowly.
Their breaths slow and deep. Their gazes locked on each other.
They scanned each other closely, looking for some open spot, a vulnerable area. Leon found himself surprised with Ashley's good guard that left no weak points uncovered. Her flexed muscles allowed her to react in time to anything that came her way.
Should he wait for her to attack? Maybe that was the best option, but he had a feeling she would expect it. Surely he also thought he would hold back on her.
Honestly it was what he was going to do. As much as she told him she had trained these past two years, he had been working as an officer for eight years, not counting his years at the Police Academy. 
But again, he remembered that she had trained with Dana and with her, it was like taking a intensive training course where if you failed you ended up with broken bones.
Maybe he really did have to get serious.
Maybe she was more dangerous than he thought.
He sketched a mental smile.  
She might know a few tricks, but there was a difference between Dana and him.
Speed.
In the blink of an eye he lunged at her with his fist, but a kick was waiting for him and he blocked it with his forearms.
Leon took a step back and stood pinned in place for a second, feeling his muscles vibrate from the impact. He raised his stunned gaze to the woman and she watched him seriously.
“ I told you I've learned a few tricks. I may not be that experienced, but I'm good at counterattacks.” she snapped back to her guard. ” Are you still not going to take me seriously?”
No.
Definitely not.
Because that kick was just like the one he was doing. The one that had gotten him out of so many tight spots in Spain.
And she had learned it.
He launched another attack without hesitation. She raised her arms, but the agent made a sweep that Ashley managed to dodge at the last moment. With the leap she delivered another kick that Leon deflected with his palm and hit her with his elbow in the abdomen, but she subtly turned her torso so he wouldn't hit her full on.
It still hurt.
She grabbed Leon's arm in a headlock and turning her body, wrapped her thighs around his neck and with a downward inertia the agent fell forward, hitting the ground with his back. He exhaled at the impact and gasped, but suddenly felt weight on his chest. He focused his eyes and found Ashley sitting on his thorax, her thighs on either side of his head, keeping the agent's biceps gripped with her instep.
She was panting hard, with a victorious smile on her lips and sweat sliding down her neck and belly.
“ What, you give up? “ she gasped.
He went white for a second.
The soft ass cheeks on his chest, those thighs encircling his head and the heat of her crotch on his sternum. 
His brain went to form the most lascivious images it had created so far, but his body was quicker and reacted.
Without warning Ashley felt legs pass under her arms, only to violently crawl out a moment later. She somersaulted, landing on all fours and rolled at the last second to dodge a knee strike.
“ I'm quite flexible.” she heard him say when he saw her surprised.
He didn't give her a break.
He blocked a fist and dodged another sweep. She threw a hook and swiveled her hips dodging an elbow to throw a back kick. She caught him in the chest, but a broad hand rounded her ankle and pulled her in, grabbing her waist and driving her into the ground with his full weight.
Ashley gasped for air for a second, but followed her instincts, locking her legs around those strong hips and pinning his arms with her own.
She threw her head back with all her might, ready to charge, but he clung to her, pulling her arms and their bodies pressed together, blocking her movement.
“ We...re...you...think...ing to...headbutt...me?” his deep voice rang in Ashley's ear, sending shivers throughout her body, making her laugh.
“ I said... I was... serious.”
She heard a chuckle next to her that set off all her alarms. Leon broke away and suddenly counterbalanced to lift her into the air. Ashley gripped him tightly, but he jumped causing her grip to loosen. Like lightning, he spun on his heels, intending to throw her to the ground to knock her out, but then she released his arms.
Ashley bound him with her legs, running them across his groin like a snake and her insteps pinned behind his knees caused him to arch, Leon went to hunch over, but she ran her free arms around his neck and nape in a chokehold. Leon was too quick though and managed to get one of his hands in to protect himself from choking. She tensed her entire body and with a grunt Leon arched backward hopelessly.
They stood still.
If Ashley stopped straining Leon could pull her through the air and if he relaxed she could strangle or dislocate him.
It was a draw.
“ You could do a Suplex to break my neck.”  she whispered panting in his ear. Leon felt a shiver run down his spine.
“ And risk you breaking my back?” he laughed still tensing his body to keep from arching further. “ Where the hell did you get that much strength?”
she laughed.
“ I think the plaga altered quite a few things before you removed it from me.”
He'd figured it would be something like that. With the first kick he had been startled, but when he lifted her he saw that she was heavier than when they had met in Spain. To what extent had the plaga affected her physical structure?
The two struggled for a few seconds, trying to find a way to come out on top and win.  Their gasps and grunts intertwined in the silence of the gym and only the sensation of their burning bodies filled their thoughts.
Until the phone rang.
It almost gave them a heart attack, but they didn't let go.
“ Aren't you going to pick up?”  said the agent maliciously.
“ I don't trust you.”
The man's broad free hand slid to the thigh at his hips causing her to tense up. Finally Graham cleared her throat and let go of her legs and then released the agent's neck. He grunted, stretching his muscles and watching her go to the bag on the edge of the tatami.   She picked it up as she grabbed the bottle of water.
“ Tell me Narsson.” she drank waiting for her to respond.
“ I don't know how the hell she did it, but Hoffman has changed your presentation to tomorrow.”
She spat so hard that Leon was startled. He heard her cough violently, beating her chest until she was almost on her knees.
“ WHAT!!!???”
Her saucer-like eyes stared at the floor and the bottle in her hand burst under her grip. Leon watched her worriedly, seeing her face contort into a tense jaw and angry eyes with pupils shrinking in rage.
“ I tried to fix it, but she seems to have spoken to one of the jurors claiming that she had made an agreement with you to reschedule.”
Ashley froze with her body tense as a rope. She felt her blood boil like fire.
Leon had never seen her so angry. He saw her bring her free hand to her head after dropping the bottle.
“ So I have to get everything ready for tomorrow? What time?”
“ Noon.”
Ashley took a breath and a guttural growl emerged from her throat as she exhaled. Leon took a step toward her, concerned, sensing the violent aura she emanated.
“ I'm going to rip that bitch's eyes out and make her swallow them until she chokes.”
Leon felt a shudder at the deep animal tone.
Narsson apologized once more and hung up.
Ashley stood and took a deep breath. 
She closed her eyes and exhaled. She opened and closed her hands under Leon's deep gaze. He waited, feeling the tension in her as if it were his own. 
She looked like she was going to snap the neck of anyone who came near her.
And then she bent down, picked up the clothes, dressed and picked up the bag.
“ Let's go back home, I have to pack everything.”  her voice was alarmingly calm, something that surprised him, as it reminded him terribly of her father.
That attitude of dangerous serenity was equal to moments when some people who crossed the line with the president. In those moments William's eyes turned cold and his leisurely voice promised a sentence that no one wanted to challenge.
“ Are you all right?”  he finally asked, testing the waters.
She closed her backpack tightly and slung it over her shoulder.
“ No, but I've got more important things to do than go burn her fucking house down.”
Leon gathered his things without complaint and followed her.
The storm had worsened and the curtain of water created a veil with very little visibility.  
They left the keys in the janitor's booth and ran to the car.
Silence fell between them.
Leon glanced sideways at Ashley from time to time, seeing her serious face and her hands twitching on the steering wheel. It took several minutes, during which he was unable to utter a sound, fearful of upsetting her further.
But finally he saw her body relax little by little. He was patient, he wasn't going to engage her in conversation when he saw that she didn't feel like talking. He would wait for her to open up, just like she did with him in Spain.
“ A rematch is pending.”
Ashley's voice suddenly broke the silence and Leon turned around, now with a much softer tone. 
“ You let me go first.”  he joked, leaning against the glass and looking at her with a smile. Ashley subtly turned to face him and a faint, barely perceptible smile appeared on her enraged face.
“ You know I've beaten you.”
“ We'll have to see it in the rematch won't we?”
How his heart skipped a beat when he saw her smile at the end, sketching that gesture that, for a few minutes, had seemed so distant to him.
He liked to make her smile.
“ We'll set a day.”  she said, parking in the garage.
“ Whenever you want, princess.”
There was the usual "princess", nice and sweet.
How many variations could a single word have? With Leon it seemed like a lot, and she wondered how many more he had up his sleeve. 
But now was not the time to think about that.
She let out a long sigh mentally organizing herself as they got out of the car and trotted up the stairs.
Ashley was in such a hurry to open the door, she didn't even close it as they passed.  Leon followed her being greeted by the two furballs who looked at him questioningly at seeing their owner so upset.
“ Human things, you wouldn't understand.” He smiled at her, stroking their big heads and leaving the bag on the sofa. - “ I'll help you, what do I do?”
Ashley stood still.
“ Are you sure? it's a lot of things.”
Leon nodded taking off his wet jacket and shaking his hair, leaving it messier, giving it a more... wild look.
“ Yes, I still don't have to hand in the weekly report. Your workshop is down the hall, right? I'll give you a hand.” He walked down the hallway but Ashley stopped him suddenly.
“ Wait! Wait!”
He turned around confused at the nervous reaction she was showing him.
“ Is something wrong?”
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if thinking of an answer convincing enough to keep Leon from getting suspicious.
“ I've got fragile things in there, so I'd rather do that myself while you fill the packing boxes with newspaper.”
Leon cocked his head to the side with a " yeah...sure" but didn't want to insist.
If she didn't want to tell him it would be personal. He was her bodyguard not her brother, it wasn't in his range to be gossipy with her privacy.
“ That's fine.” He nodded, shaking his brown short-sleeved shirt. “ Whatever her majesty commands me.”  he smiled teasingly, but saw that she had her head elsewhere.
She pointed to the boxes and paper and then left him to go to the workshop.
She heard Leon take the things to the living room, where she had more space and start filling the sides of the boxes. She went about bringing the first plaster models she had and wrapped them up and then placed them in their respective containers, only to take them out again and stare at them. She decided that she would wrap all the models first and then distribute them, Tetris puzzles be damned.
She went back to the workshop and stared at the whiteboard in the back, full of pictures and notes. She had turned it over, thank goodness she had managed to stop Leon before he came in. She had recently added new notes, but if Leon saw that?
He would kill her.
The hours passed and soon it began to get dark. Leon couldn't contribute much more, Ashley knew better how to arrange the pieces, so he proposed to prepare dinner for her. She just nodded and continued picking things up at full speed. She still had to organize the illustrated panels she had prepared for each piece. She still had a lot of work to do.
And very little time.
He watched her subtly, glancing at her attitude as she went about her rounds.
He could tell she was nervous, but she maintained an incredibly calm composure. If he didn't know her he'd say she even looked calm, but he could see beneath that serious expression. Her brow subtly furrowed and her lips tenuously pursed. They were small details that made the man see how furious she was.
But her perseverance prevailed. Her willpower was greater than her rage and she hadn't been swallowing a bunch of jerks to now be driven by emotions.
If she had to sleep less to get everything ready for the next day so be it. 
It wouldn't be the first time.
Leon finished scrubbing the utensils and turned to her.
“ You have the food ready.”
“ I'll finish with the list of boxes and then I'll have dinner, thank you.”
Leon gave a sweet smile, but still looked at her with concern.
“ Are you sure there's nothing else I can help you with?”
Ashley stood still for a few seconds, looking around.
“ Can you move the boxes that are closed on that side for me? That'll be enough.”
Leon nodded, moving the boxes she had pointed out to him and arranging them in a corner so she would have more room.
“ I'm going to take the dogs out, okay?”
Ashley looked at him as if she had just seen an angel.
“ You don't mind?”
He laughed, grabbing the harnesses from the hanger. He looked at the animals running towards him with their tongues hanging out and couldn't help but laugh.
“ We've become friends, so we'll be fine.”
The woman exclaimed that he was a saint sent by the devil, to which Leon responded by sticking his tongue out at her.
“ Be careful.”  she told him with a smile.
He arched an eyebrow.
“ Why should I?”
“ I wouldn't want m bodyguard to be kidnapped and locked in a basement. You attract attention.” she teased.
Leon rolled his eyes and announced that they would be back in a little while.
Ashley watched him leave and stared at the door for long seconds. Her mind stopped thinking about work for a moment and she remembered Leon's burning skin beneath her, his head almost strangled between her legs and the sweat sticking to their skins. Her heart did an ulterior flip and she had to clench her hands to try to bring herself back to earth, to stop her thoughts from wandering further, taking her to imaginary scenarios, where she wouldn't have minded feeling those big hands clasping her around the waist....
"ASHLEY NO"
It hadn't been a good idea, she'd have a hard time sleeping today, if at all.
*
He didn't wander too far. He strolled along the stone paths in the park next door. He let the dogs run free and followed with his hands in his pockets.
Memories of his childhood came back for a few seconds, the years he'd been with his aunt and uncle after his family's.
It had been a while since he had spoken to them, and even less since he became an agent. Occasionally he received letters, but he barely had time to respond. 
He remembered his aunt's dogs. Three fierce beasts that became his best friends when his parents died.
He even slept with them when he had nightmares. Their woolly fur and warmth always managed to soothe him, maybe that's why he had grown so fond of these two.
He remained thoughtful for a few more seconds.
Maybe that was also why he was able to fall asleep when he was with Ashley in Spain, maybe her warmth reminded him of those quiet moments in his childhood. That would explain why it was so hard for him to get back into the habit of sleeping alone when they returned.
He paused remembering his second trip to Spain and how cold he felt when he was trapped in the mines.
How much he missed her. So much, he even dreamed of her and the tune she used to sing in Spain that he had ended up learning and humming.
Then his mind went back a few hours.
When he had been lying on the tatami with her on top of him.
Her fleshy glutes over his pecs and her strong thighs encircling his head. 
If he hadn't forced himself to go through with the fight at the time, it would have been very exciting, although it was already so now that he thought about it coldly.
He took a soft breath, remembering the heat that had emanated from her, the fire he had felt in his chest as he sensed Ashley's most intimate area. He had to admit that if she'd strangled him with those thighs he wouldn't have cared much... nor would he have minded wrapping his arms around them and pulling her close to him to rest his lips on-.
Stop.
Don't
Go
That
Way.
He shook his head violently.
No, that was a line he must not cross, not after the effort of those two and a half years.
He whistled to call the dogs when it was fully dark and the street lamps lit the streets.  They came delightedly and walked beside him as if he had been their owner all their lives. Even he was surprised by the familiarity with which they treated him.
As if they knew him.
When he went upstairs again, he found Ashley sitting in the dining room, checking notes as she ate dinner. She lifted her amber gaze to him with a big smile.
“ Dinner is delicious, thank you.”
Her words gave him warmth and he responded with the same gesture on his lips.
“ It's the least I can do. Let me know if you need anything else.” He picked up his things from the sofa, then added before closing the door. “ What time do you want to get up tomorrow?”
“ Not too late, I have to set this up before the presentation.”
The agent nodded and said goodbye to go to his apartment for dinner. He could see that Ashley needed space, no matter how well she carried the tension no one liked someone else meddling in their affairs.
He could sense the fury she was holding back and he understood it.
Backstabbing was not pleasant.
Leon listened to Ashley flit back and forth for a while longer, probably making sure everything was in place. He decided to fix himself dinner and check emails before taking a shower and going to bed.
So far everything seemed to be quiet. Hunnigan hadn't mentioned any special news to them, she even seemed to be opening up more to Patrick.
Johnson had told him that he called her from time to time to see how she was doing and to his surprise, she hadn't hung up on him once.
It was progress, it meant a step in mutual trust.
The agent's hand slid across the keyboard lazily.
He wondered what it was that Ashley wanted to tell him after graduation. He didn't like that she kept him in ignorance, but after all, he hadn't told her everything about Spain either, especially about the accident. They didn't use to interact much anymore at that point and after that, after losing his cell phone, they didn't talk anymore.
Until they met again.
The agent couldn't help but smile. All roads led to Rome.
He closed the laptop and went to the bathroom to take a shower. The fight may have been brief, but it had been intense. To his surprise he found himself thinking about what day they could have a rematch. Maybe they could go to one of the DSO tatamis if she graduated and they couldn't use the gym.
Yes, he was looking forward to fighting her again, definitely. 
***
Her body was burning, to the point of hurting.
She couldn't breathe normally, her gasps coming from between her lips hopelessly.
She could feel the parasite writhing between her intestines. She felt shocks running down her spine trying to take control of her body.
Her steps became clumsy, watching as the plaga tried to take over her mobility.
She couldn't let it do it, she had to control it at all costs. She didn't know what she would be able to do if she gave in.
She could hurt Leon.
A hammer blow of pain struck her temple, feeling her head burn from the inside. She curled into a ball in the corner of the room Leon had left her in. She heard gunshots in the hallway and clenched her fingers around her throat, trying to hold back the growing darkness clouding her mind.
She was losing, she felt it.
The parasite's claws were working their way up her nerves to her thoughts, corrupting them, poisoning them.
She stopped hearing gunshots.
She had to do something, bind herself, restrain herself somehow before Leon came through that door.
Quickly.
Clumsily she crawled into an old closet and rummaged for something to tie herself up with. She was relieved when she saw an old sheet that she tore into strips to improvise some ropes.
Her hands stopped.
The plaga was holding her back.
Anguish grew in her as she tried to regain control of her body.
No. NO. NO. NOT NOW.
She heard a click.
“ Ashley?”  those blue eyes peered up to look at her with joy, happy to find her safe and sound.
But she wasn't.
She tried to scream, to warn him to get away from her, but she couldn't.
She only saw his stunned expression as she jumped at him.
And everything went black.
***
She rolled over on the bed tensing her muscles. 
***
"Ah..." "Hmn..."
"Aaah..." "Ah, ah...a-ah..."
Gasps could be heard in the darkness.
Panting breaths coming together in a dance of moans and grunts.
She felt hot. Immense pleasure flooding her, as the rhythm of her heaving breaths moved.
She threw her head back and as if opening her eyes for the first time blinked.
She emitted a moan of pleasure moving her hips and lowered her head to focus on the body beneath her.
She bit her lip with a high-pitched inward moan.
That naked torso, his clothes torn and tattered. Those defined, seductive muscles, that torso sculpted by the gods wrapped between her legs.
She gasped as she rode up and down on him, her bloodied hands resting on his broad chest.
“ Ash...ley...stop…” a pleading growl echoed. “This isn't...you.”
She gasped turning her scarlet orbs towards the face of the man she rode. Leon's expression, contracted between pain and pleasure, sweaty and tense, made her smile.
Ashley extended her hands, now more claw-like, toward his cheek. Leon flinched as he felt the strong phalanges clutch his jaw violently. He felt her thrust on him again, wringing another desperate growl from him, and she leaned toward him. Her tongue invaded his mouth and the taste of iron coursed across his palate. Ashley kissed him voraciously, thirsting for the taste of his mouth. When she broke away, she surveyed her handiwork, the scarlet stain outlining the luscious lips and extending down to his cheek.
The red flattered him.
She wanted to paint him more.
Ashley smiled at the image as she felt him inside her, filling her every time she moved her hips up and down, moaning at the pleasure of having him.
He was hers. Only hers.
She thrust hard into him, moaning euphorically and making Leon grunt, bound between her legs. The agent had pulled so hard on his bonds, his wrists and ankles were raw, unable to break free of the hard knots.
Another onslaught made him throw his head back in despair.
“ Ash…” he whimpered in pain.
She glared lustfully at him, sliding her claws down his torso, causing him to tense. Fingernails caressed and cut the surface of his skin, not deep, but enough to make him bleed and hiss in pain. The woman's fingers drew scarlet lines to his abs and with a smile, followed by a lunge, she sank her claws into him.
Leon roared in pain pulling at his restraints and writhing in desperation.
“STOP, PLEASE!”  he cried pleadingly, unable to continue this torture of pleasure and mistreatment. One of his sapphire eyes flashed scarlet, making his aggressor gasp. 
“ Look... you want this too..." she tore the skin feeling the warm blood slipping through her fingers as she heard him pleading between screams and prayers.
“It's the plaga talking!!!!”  he exclaimed with teary eyes. He tried to wriggle away from her but Ashley pulled her claws out to sink them into his sides this time, making him squeal more.
She moaned in pleasure, licking her fingers and painting her lips scarlet, tasting the iron and sweat of the man she had desired so much.
A snicker came from her, quickening her thrusts and feeling the euphoria grow in her as she tortured Leon.
He pleaded her name again and over and over and  over again. Tormented. Dying.
She wanted to hear him more... so much more... she wanted him to scream her name endlessly.
Her crimson eyes looked at him dementedly.
She wanted to make him hers.
Wanted to possess him.
Wanted to break him.
Tear him apart.
Devour him.
***
He yawned turning on the bathroom light and opening the tap to drink a glass of water.  It was still early in the morning.
Darkness reigned in the place and silence flooded every nook and cranny. The sound of the tap water echoed softly between the walls and the soft click of the glass was a faint note that vibrated in the atmosphere.
The man sighed and turned off the light with the intention of returning to his slumber.
A sharp thump, 
A muffled exclamation followed by hurried footsteps and a slamming of the door.
Without thinking he pulled the gun from the drawer and opened Ashley's door with the weapon raised. 
The living room dark. The windows closed.
He heard gasps, coughs and groans of pain.
His heart was pounding wildly. He saw the light at the end of the hall and walked cautiously.
The door was wide open and a gasp came from the bathroom.
Leon pressed himself against the wall and parted his lips in a soft whisper.
“ Ashley?”
He heard a muffled exclamation, followed by another series of accelerated gasps. He moved closer to the threshold and opened the door wider to see what was going on.
He found her kneeling on the toilet, arms outstretched, holding herself up. Her locks, sodden, clung to her neck and sweat trickled down her back. Her muscles trembled and twitched with each contraction.
He watched her cough again, spitting up the bile that had been left after she had vomited.
He lowered the gun and took a step toward her.
“ Are you-”
A raised hand stopped him. 
Ashley gasped, releasing herself from the toilet and sitting up on her twins. She was breathing heavily and the hand separating them was shaking violently. He saw her tilt her head toward him and between her damp locks he saw her amber orbs with the pupil contracted until they almost disappeared.
 Leon flinched, which caused her to lower her arm.
Those golden eyes looked him up and down, as if she was making sure it was him, that it was real. Ashley sighed, closing the toilet lid and pulling the pump and then resting her elbows on the surface.
“ Give me…” she gasped shakily. “ One minute... please.”
The agent looked at her with his heart pounding, but he understood the feeling, so he nodded and walked toward the kitchen.
The dogs appeared behind the sofa, frightened by their owner's banging. Leon petted them to calm them down and took a cup out of the cupboard.
When he was little and awakened by nightmares at night, his aunt used to make him a hot drink. 
He made it calmly, listening to every sound coming from the bathroom. His own heartbeat began to calm down. His heart had almost broken his ribs when he heard the first thump, fearing the worst.
As he passed down the hallway he had noticed the open door to Ashley's room. Several books had fallen and a piece of furniture was knocked over next to the window, sheets thrown to the floor and beads of sweat on her trail down the hallway.
It had definitely been a bad nightmare. Like the ones he'd had when they'd come back.
He poured the infused milk into the cup gently and sprinkled some cocoa over the surface.
He heard a deep sigh followed by slow footsteps.
The agent turned to look at her, seeing her hair disheveled and damp on her face. Dressed in simple panties and a loose-fitting, almost soaked tank top. 
He saw her eyes reddened from vomiting and her pale countenance.
Their gazes met and sank into each other. For long seconds they stood like that, watching one another. 
Ashley was trembling, still with chills running down her spine. She didn't know how long she stared at Leon, making sure that there was no blood anywhere on his body, that his wrists were sound and not torn by ropes, that the tears of pain in his eyes no longer stained a face contracted with despair.
That he was not terrified of her. 
Then Leon took a step and leaned his hip against the curb of the countertop.
“ A nightmare?”
His voice woke Ashley from that limbo of illusions created by her mind, bringing her back to reality in front of her and making her sigh hopelessly.
“ It wasn't a good idea to take that pill.” Her voice was hoarse and she tangled her fingers in her hair to get them out of her face.  
Leon understood that because of her nerves she had taken something to be able to fall asleep and it had not gone well.
He watched her calmly.
“ Would you like to sit down?”  his tone was soft, almost a purr, showing his concern for her. Ashley sensed it and appreciated it, nodding, walking over to the couch. Leon took the cup and sat down next to her, in the gap that the couch made an L.
He held out his hand to the woman and she looked down at the drink in surprise.
“ My aunt used to make it for me. It's been good for me on bad nights so far.”
Ashley whispered a shy thank you and took the cup between her fingers. She watched it for a few seconds, seeing the even layer of cocoa on the frothy surface and then lifted it to her lips. She blew gently and drank some, licking her cupid's bow under a watchful sapphire gaze.
Her eyes snapped open and she took another drink with a sigh of pleasure. Leon smiled, relieved that she liked it. He watched her drink in silence, sensing her muscles relax and her cheeks regain their rosy color. Ashley's soft sips filled the silence of the room, plunging them into a trance, which after several minutes, Leon decided to break.
“ Do you want to talk?”
She remained silent, thoughtful. She moved the cup away from her mouth to rest her elbows on her knees. Her eyes were lost in the bottom of her drink for a few moments, recalling the scarlet color in her hands, the taste of blood in her mouth and Leon's pleas in her ears.
She sighed, closing her eyes.
She felt his blue gaze on her. She knew he wouldn't force her, but she wasn't alone now, he was with her. Just like he said he would, for both the good and the bad.
She set the cup down on the small table in front of her.
“ I couldn't control my body. I was trying to tie myself up before you came back for me, but I couldn't do it.”  paused, interlacing her fingers. “ And I hurt you.”
Leon looked at her, understanding the feeling perfectly. 
He still remembered those dreams where he relived the moment he tried to strangle Ada, but instead of her, he had dreamed what would have happened if he had attacked Ashley. He understood the anguish of hurting her in nightmares, where he could do nothing but watch what his body was doing and see the light in her eyes fade out with his bare hands.
Leon watched her trembling fingers and sketched a subtle smile extending his own toward her. He took her hand and brought it up to his chest, looking down at Ashley watching his movements deeply. She pinned his eyes, watching how she held her small hand in comparison to his. She sensed a strong heartbeat in her palm. Loud and alive.
She let go of Leon's hand gently and lifted it to rest on his cheek, causing the man to sigh subtly without taking his eyes off her.
“ I'm fine as you can see.” His voice was husky and deep, vibrating every cell in her body. Ashley nodded with a shy smile, feeling slightly calmer, but for some reason her body was still restless. 
Ashley's thumb stroked Leon's cheekbone gently, memorizing the shape and warmth, past the subtle scar. She sat sideways, crossing one leg and allowing her to reach for him with her other hand, which rested on his strong neck. Leon took a nervous breath and leaned into her irrevocably.
Like magnets attracted to each other.
They drew closer until their foreheads bumped. Leon raised his broad hand, tangling his fingers in the straight golden hair and with the other, held the small hand on his neck.
“ I was hurting you so much.”  she whispered, anguish tingeing her voice.
He looked at her with narrowed eyes and ran his hand from his neck all the way down Ashley's bare arm to her cheek.
“ But I'm here princess, I'm fine.”  His whispery velvety voice made her sigh and subtly tilt her head until their noses brushed.
“ I know, it's just... this dream, I've had it before and it was the one that made me push you in Salazar's castle.”
That statement surprised him and the hand on the back of her neck became more pronounced. He continued to listen to her in whispers, watching her move closer to him, touching their legs.
“ When I coughed up blood...I got scared...I remembered the dream. I put you in a bigger trouble and Luis tried to help me, all because I was afraid of that nightmare.”
“ Princess…” Leon's whisper made her smile, surrendering to the caresses of his warm hands. “ It wasn't your fault…”
Their faces, dangerously close, whispered silently as lovers. She opened her eyes again and wrapped both hands around Leon's jaw, holding his face lovingly and pulling away slightly.
“ I know.” she smiled sweetly at him. “ I don't blame myself for it, it's just... it's a nightmare that makes me think a lot of things and... that since then I haven't had again.” she looked deeply into his eyes. “ this time I won't run away.”
Leon melted at her closeness and hopelessly moved closer to kiss her forehead with affection.  He wanted to convey to her all his appreciation and support, and he was someone who expressed himself better with actions than words.
“ I'm sorry I woke you up.”  she apologized.
“ Don't worry, I had gotten up to get a glass of water.”
With that response she seemed calmer and curled up on the couch as she leaned her head against the backrest.
“ I couldn't stop replaying the presentation over and over in my head, so I took the pill.”
Leon bent one leg on the seat and rested his elbow on his knee.
“ Why is that?”
“ I don't know if it's explained well enough.”
Leon stared at their legs touching.
“ Do you want my opinion?”
Ashley picked up the cup again and began to explain her presentation. 
She wanted to think about something else, to distract her mind from those disturbing memories that had long since surfaced. 
Surprisingly Leon found himself very interested and listening to her attentively. She was clear, to the point and very fluent in her ideas. Leon was able to follow the thread of the subject without having any idea about it. 
He felt excitement in Ashley's voice as she showed him the sketches of her schemes and the way she lived it. 
She was passionate about it and he could see it in the sparkle in her eyes.
He couldn't help but be enraptured as he listened to her and he didn't know at what point, but he ended up with her in his arms, resting in the hollow of his chest and shoulder. She had settled in next to him, showing him the photos of the models she had packed. She also explained to him the casting and chiseling process to perfect them and create as accurate copies as possible.
And before he knew it Ashley had fallen asleep on him while Leon had been looking at the photos. He lowered his eyes to her placid face and sketched a smile.
He felt sorry for having to carry her to bed.
He put the cell phone aside and went to get up to hold her in his arms, but Pepper climbed to his feet and lay on top of him.
“ Pepper!”  he called in a whisper, trying to push him away, but the dog didn't flinch.
A few seconds later Mint climbed up behind Leon and curled into a ball, blocking the exit. The man looked at the picture in disbelief and ended up sighing heavily.
He had better get comfortable then.
He leaned back in the seat very carefully, keeping Ashley from waking up. He managed to reach with his fingertips for the blanket on the floor to throw it over them.  He held Ashley's head gently and moved to the side so they could both be more comfortable. Leon watched her in his arms and saw her snuggle up against him, slipping her arm around until she rested it on Leon's waist and the agent smiled, imitating the gesture.
Finally, he closed his eyes, letting slumber return to him.
He felt the warmth of the bodies of the dogs and their owner, and his mind traveled back to those years when, even though he had lost his family, he managed to find a place to call home.
He felt small again, enveloped by the comfort of the woman at his side. How he had missed that sensation...
So he hugged her tightly, sinking into the warmth she gave him.
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ashcal99 · 1 year
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Certain Things : Leah Clearwater~
Prologue
"Something about you, It's like an addiction, Hit me with your best shot honey, I've got no reason to doubt you, 'Cause certain things hurt, And you're my only virtue"
Summary: Conner Swan moves to Forks Washington in hopes to help his sister Bella through her breakup with Edward. In hopes to find happiness again. He finds much more.
Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, loss, antidepressants, general angst, slow burn
Words: 2.1k
A/N: Not sure how many parts this will be but yahhhh. Comment if I missed any warning or anything plz thnx.
Soundtrack
Series Masterlist
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Conner was only three years old when his parents divorced. As a toddler, your parents all of a sudden not being together anymore is confusing. One second they're in love and you’re a big happy family, the next it’s all ripped apart. Conner had been so excited to be a big brother when Bella was born, then just three months later, their parents were separated.
After rushing out of Forks, not wanting to be stuck there any longer, their mother, Renee, moved the two siblings in with their grandmother in California. In turn, moving the children away from their father. Years later, when Conner was nine, the small family of three picked up and moved to Phoenix, even further from the small rainy town. As time went by, Conner longed to return to Forks, but more importantly, his father. Although he couldn't speak for Bella, Conner absolutely hated the sun and heat that the new town brought. He knew his father, Charlie, was alone and missing his children just as much as Conner missed him. 
Though the children did get to visit their father, it wasn't at all the same as growing up with him around. Their mother was loving sure, but unfortunately not too great at mothering. Conner found himself being forced to grow up too quick. Watching over Bella and making sure the decisions their mother made didn’t harm Bella in the process. Renee had a habit of getting herself and her children into heavy situations, whether it be financial or otherwise. So, when Conner reached the age of eleven he found himself handling the finances for the family, making sure that they wouldn’t face eviction for the fifth time. He tried his best to shield Bella from the world, in hopes she wouldn���t be forced to mature at the rate he had. He had promised himself that he would keep his little sister safe at all costs.
Throughout the years, Conner worked to keep that promise. With some difficulty. He had never, once in his life, met someone clumsier then Bella. He had lost count of how many times she had gotten concussions or broken bones as a child. Even after the older sibling had graduated high school, he found himself being called in for a number of reasons. Bella fell and hit her head in gym. Bella twisted her ankle on the stairwell. Bella fainted in biology. Connor was used to being called in to “save” the younger sibling. Because of this, as tempted as he was to move back to live with his father, he stayed in Phoenix.
So the same month their mother had gotten remarried, Conner started schooling at their local college. Since most of his free time was spent with his otherwise socially awkward sister, Conner found himself without much of a social life. College was a new strange thing to get used to, seeing as most people his age were out partying every weekend with friends. So he stuck to himself, going from class to class, trying to make decent grades. That was until he met Mia.
To say it was love at first sight would be a stretch. He had dated before, during high school, but it never amounted to anything serious in the end. Most girls his age had different priorities than he did, but Mia was eerily similar to him in so many ways. They had shared a class together on accounting, and hadn’t interacted much with each other at first, but Conner was hooked. 
He thought she could be an angel, the beautiful curls that cascaded down her back and the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. He just needed an excuse to get her to notice him. He wasn’t very good at flirting, that much was obvious given that the only thing he could think of was asking her for a pencil every day.
Eventually, after a few weeks of sitting next to her, she finally confronted him about the 27 pencils she had given him, jokingly asking for financial compensation. Conner had given a small grin, grabbed his backpack, unzipped it, and turned it upside down, dumping the 27 pencils on the girls desk. After offering to buy her dinner as payment, the two were inseparable. 
He had managed to fall in love with the girl within the first two months of knowing her, and after dating her for a little over year, he was convinced he had found the love of his life. But because life is cruel, that was ripped away from him too.
It had been the night of his twentieth birthday when he had received the call. Mia had made dinner plans for them and she was never late. He had been nervously pacing, waiting for the front door to finally open when his phone started ringing. The bright display with Mia's name scrolled across had given him false hope, and when he answered the call his world shattered.
Turns out Conner's nervousness had been well deserved, as his life morphed into his worst nightmare. He fled the apartment quickly, attempting to make it to the hospital as soon as possible. After a long night of fighting, Mia Elizabeth Ross had lost her life at only nineteen. Sitting in that waiting room, he felt his heart hollow out and crack along the seems, for not only had he lost his beautiful Mia, but the little baby girl who was growing inside of her. Unbeknownst to them both, Mia had been about three and a half months pregnant at the time of the accident that took her life. So when they should have named her together and signed the birth certificate after holding her in his arms, he was picking a name to be added to a headstone along with Mia’s. So he chose Ellie after Mia’s middle name, wanting to put Mia’s love in it as well and it was set in stone.
Needless to say, that had been the worst birthday Conner had ever had. So there he was, left completely and utterly heartbroken. Now it was Bella's turn to be there for Conner. Except she wasn’t. She did try, really, she did, but only three months after the accident she decided it would be best if she moved in with her father. Although she hadn't done it out of selfish reason, only to allow her mother to enjoy life with her new husband, Conner couldn't help but feel a little bitter towards the younger girl. After he had stayed in Phoenix to be there for his sister, she had left him when he needed her the most. 
Despite his resentment, he decided to try to maintain his close relationship with the teen. For the first couple months they had talked on the phone everyday. Discussing how it was going at the new school, the many boys that had asked her to the dance coming up, and how it was being around Charlie again. Then one day, she never picked up. Days turned into weeks, and soon months had gone by with little to no communication between the two siblings. He then decided in distracting himself from the heartache with his studies, fully devoting his time to trying to finishing his degree. Running on autopilot, just trying to make it through day by day.
His father had called him just two weeks after the calls from his sister had stopped to let him know that she had an accident when traveling with her new boyfriend and fallen down the stairs breaking a few bones and losing a lot of blood in the process.This of course came as no surprise to him as Bella had to be the biggest klutz the twenty year old had ever met. What was shocking was the boyfriend part. He had never really seen his little sister interested in anyone in that way. Regardless of the coldness he held for the teen, Conner couldn't help but feel happy for her in that aspect. He hadn’t really met Edward, when he came to visit her in the hospital after the accident, as he was sleeping. But, woah, he was nice looking, and Conner wasn’t too attached to his masculinity to admit it. He just hoped Edward would treat her right and cherish her.
It was only a month after the whole Bella and Edward incident that Conner had finally graduated college with his associates degree. He had been beyond relieved to be done with the hell hole that reminded him of what he lost. He soon started looking for a job in accounting, what he had his degree in. It was boring, but it payed the bills, and he was good at it. He spent a big chunk of his summer engrossing himself in his work much to his mother's dismay. He had insisted that it helped distract him from the pain in his heart. 
It was around the middle of August when the depression became too much to bear. His therapist then decided it would be best to put him on antidepressants. They helped in a way, slightly numbing the pain in his chest. But it hurt to hear her name. To see her things that sat around the apartment, untouched since the accident. To see the velvet box that sat on his dresser haunting him.
About a month after starting on his antidepressants, Conner had received a call from his father regarding his sister. She and Edward had broken up and she apparently wasn't taking it very well. She had refused to talk to anyone, including their mother, which had come as a shock to the older sibling as they had always been extremely close. Much closer than he had been to his mother. Conner had brushed off his sister's behavior and assumed it was just normal teenage heartache. He only started growing genuinely concerned when a month later, his father called again informing him that she had gotten worse. It wasn't like his sister to be like this. Then again, he hadn't talked to her for over six months, so who was he to judge how she was acting? So he brushed it off again, and continued going through the motions of life. Living day by day just trying not to drown in his sorrow.
It was around mid December when he had received his father's last call. He had been panicking, not knowing how to fix Bella's situation. She had refused to move back in with their mother in Jacksonville. So he then begged his son to move to Forks, in hopes that having her brother there would help. He figured, if Conner had helped when they were younger, why couldn't he help now? Maybe the familiarity would do the trick, and since the older sibling had nothing tying him down to Phoenix other than depressing memories and a shitty job, Conner said yes. 
So here he was, keeping his promise, packing up his life. Finally convincing himself that it would be best to move away from the memories of his happiness that had died in that car accident with Mia. He was almost finished, having only a few things on top of his dresser left to pack. The first being a ball cap that his father had given him when he was a child. Second was the promise ring he had given Mia on their six month anniversary, a beautiful emerald stone, surrounded by tendrils of white gold that delicately held the stone in place. Third was the dreaded velvet box. He hadn’t had it in himself to move it since it had been placed there with the promise ring. He had emptied his pockets after returning from the hospital on that horrid day and there the two remained. I mean, what do you do with a dead girl’s engagement ring? He supposed he could’ve returned it, but that felt wrong. So, for now, he grabbed the two rings, putting them together in a small drawstring bag, adding the bag and ball cap to the box he was currently packing. He blinked away the unshed tears, taping the box shut swiftly.
Moving to Forks would be a new beginning for him. Something he needed desperately. He would never forget Mia and Ellie, he knew that. But as hard as it was to admit, he had to move on somehow. He couldn’t keep living like this, if you could even call it living. He needed to find new happiness somewhere in life, and he desperately hoped that this move would do that for him.
Little did he know, it would do much more.
Next Chapter
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asukiess · 1 year
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What’s it going to be like when Adrien and Marinette are forced to go back to their superhero lives?
Like. Personally, I can understand Marinette thinking Chat Noir gave up his Miraculous due to guilt over what transpired in Elation. From her point of view, he’s always been a very upstanding, sacrificial person. In the New York special, he said he “never wanted to risk harming anyone ever again”. S4 can point to this as well, with Chat giving it up a couple of times. Not saying it’s right, but it at least it lends to an idea of Chat in Maribug’s mind: if he felt he did a huge disservice by upsetting Marinette to the point of near-akumatization, then I believe she’d understand why he would give up the miraculous. Additionally, she’s still the guardian – technically, she could assist the new Ladybug holder as Fu did with her.
But the last time we saw Scarbella, we specifically got the scene at the end of Hack-san, where Ladybug looked Chat in his eyes and said she’d never abandon him. He admitted that the idea that they’d have parted ways and he would never see her again gutted him (Also, pause for a moment – he says in this scene that it he doesn’t know if her could bear it. Sounds familiar, when coupled with Elation’s “too much to bear.” Or, it’s in line with “making a mess of things” as well). In Elation, they reassured each other that they’d be friends, everything was okay between them.
How do you reconcile these ideas with the fact he was okay with renouncing Plagg, as long as he gets to be with Marinette?
One, there’s the obvious – it’s been nine months of torture. As I went into a little more detail here, Adrien’s probably at his lowest point this season, in my opinion. It’s easy enough to say this is a character who is desperately trying to have happiness and a fulfilling relationship, and I think that’s fair to a degree. They were caught up in the moment of it all, and you’d grab the first lifebuoy out of rough waters, too. Two – it’s yet to be explained, as this is a two-parter after all. Three – anyone else’s ideas they could extrapolate on.
But what’s it going to be like when they realize they are fatefully bound to return to their position? When their respective Kwami tells them that changing players didn’t work out as hoped, and that it needs to be them? Is it confusing to understand why the dynamic works only between them two in this world, when it isn’t like they’re in love (as far as each other knows, of course), and being the superhero means potentially harming others, keeping secrets, and being a hinderance on their love life? What’s it going to be like when they see their partner again?
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justcallmefox89 · 1 year
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The Royal Romance: Cinderfella’s Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter 10
An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.
It’s been over a year since Callum fled Cordonia in disgrace and went into hiding, but now some familiar faces are back in New York and searching for their missing friend.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven 
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
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“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Hana asks, nervously fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist.  “I don’t think we should ambush him like this.”
“It’s not an ambush, Lee,” Drake mutters.  “We’re just stopping by to say hello.”
“To someone who doesn’t know we’re coming.  That we haven’t talked to in over a year.  Yeah, you’re right.  That’s totally not an ambush.”  Maxwell rolls his eyes as he hurries to keep up with Drake’s quick pace.  The crowded New York sidewalk is difficult to navigate, and more than once Maxwell crashes into a stranger as he struggles to keep pace with Drake’s long-legged stride.
“Look.”  Drake stops in front of a run-down bodega and gestures for Maxwell and Hana to come closer. “This is our last chance.  Liam is going to marry Madeline in eight days. Eight.  Fucking.  Days.   And we all know that if he goes through with it, it will be the worst mistake of his life.  Seeing Callum again could be the thing that tips the scales and convinces Liam to call off the wedding.”
Maxwell can’t keep the skeptical look off his face and Drake scowls at him.
“What if Callum doesn’t want to see Liam again?” Hana frets. “This feels like we’re going to be manipulating him.”
“It feels that way because that’s exactly what Drake wants to do,” Maxwell replies, deadpan.
“I want to stop my best friend from making the biggest mistake of his life!” Drake snaps.  
“And you want to use Callum to do it!”
“Please don’t fight.”  Hana’s eyes worriedly flit between the two men. 
Drake sighs scrubbing his hands over his face.  “Look,” he sighs.  “We all know that there was something between them.  Something real.  What’s the harm in putting them in the same room for five minutes so they can talk?”
“So much harm,” Hana answers.
“Literally all the harm,” Maxwell says.
“If you both think this is such a horrible idea, why did you come with me?”  Drake throws his hands up, exasperated.
Maxwell steps closer and places his hands on Drake’s shoulders. “All we’re trying to say, is that if someone changes their phone number, moves out of their apartment, completely ghosts their job and old co-workers, and deletes all their social media… maybe they don’t want to be found.  And that showing up out of the blue to talk to this alleged person might cause said alleged person to freak out.”
“We’re just worried,” Hana says softly.  “About you and Callum.”
“Also, how did you even find him?” Maxwell asks.
Drake flushes and stares down at his boots.  “Just… research,” he mumbles.
“What kind of research?”
“Does it matter?” he tries to deflect.
“Drake…”
He wilts under Hana inquisitive stare.  “I asked Bastien to find all clubs and bars Callum’s family owns.”
“Go on,” she encourages.
“Then I searched through their social media accounts and the accounts of any customers who mentioned them until I found someone who mentioned a bartender who’s description matched Callum’s.  Then I narrowed my search to that particular bar’s Instagram page until I found him in the background of a few regular customers’ tagged pictures.  I think he might be working there.  Or at least visits there sometimes.  Either way, someone will have to know who he is and where we can find him.”
Hana flounders, opening and closing her mouth, trying to find a response. Maxwell has no such compunctions.
“So you stalked him,” he says, frowning at Drake in disapproval.
Drake glares at him, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “No!”
“Callum doesn’t want to be found!  The fact that you had to go so far to even get a hint at where he might be proves it!  That’s literally the definition of stalking!”
Drake’s shoulders bunch up around his ears, and he muscles past Maxwell, charging down the sidewalk.  
“This is so fucked,” Maxwell mutters, running his hands through his hair.
Hana rubs her hand between his shoulder blades in soothing circles. “I miss Callum too, but this feels… personal for Drake.  More so than just trying to keep Liam from marrying Madeline.”
“Everything’s been so messed up since Callum left,” Maxwell sighs. “This is all my fault.  If I hadn’t convinced Callum to come to Cordonia none of this would have ever happened.  Drake and Liam would still be getting along, Callum wouldn’t have had to give up his life -”
“No,” Hana sternly interrupts him.  “None of this is your fault.  None of it.  And I don’t want to hear another word about it, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says meekly, nodding.
“Good.”  She links their arms together.  “Now let’s catch up to Drake.  I have a feeling he’s going to need our support tonight.”
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marvelmaniac715 · 1 year
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This fic is a lot like my first ever Chucky fanfiction. It explores the theory that Nica is Chucky’s daughter, but for the first time (I think) it’s from Chucky’s point of view, which should be fun. It’s the events of Cult, rewritten with this theory in mind, and unlike a lot of my fics I’ve spent days working on the concept, because I found this particular idea really exciting. I hope you enjoy it :).
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At first his aim had been to kill her. He’d tracked her down to the mental hospital she was staying in and planned to strike at night when nobody could stop him. It was the perfect plan, but of course, Nica Pierce had to ruin it. A suicide attempt. That’s what he found when he went into her room. She couldn’t even give him the joy of killing her himself, how selfish.
Chucky enjoyed playing with his food, so to speak, so this was a real blow to his pride. There was no way around it. He’d have to sew her back up. That was the only way to keep her alive in order to torment her before finally slitting her throat. He loathed saving people, but that was his only option. He comforted himself with the thought that he could write something threatening in her blood, which had begun to form into a pool on the floor.
It was when he bent forward to pick up her wrist that he first really noticed it. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually taking her in for the first time (he never concentrated on the appearance of his victims, if he humanised them too much he felt guilty, which sucked) or maybe it was the way her face was lit by the moonlight, but there was something distinctively familiar in Nica’s features.
It had been a long time since he was first alive, but… yep. That was his nose. And his brows, and his chin if he squinted, even his cheekbones. Nica had the exact same skin tone that he used to have, and when he gently opened one of her eyelids to check the colour, it was an exact match. It shouldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be possible, yet… he had slept with Sarah Pierce about eight or nine months before they officially ‘met’ at the barbecue. Sarah’s husband worked late, and Nica’s birthday was exactly nine months after he and Sarah… oh no. He had a daughter. And he’d repeatedly tried to kill her. He’d crippled her in the womb, he’d killed her mother, niece and sister. He’d almost killed his own child multiple times, something he’d sworn never to do. 
Sure, Glen was annoying, but he’d taken it easy on him. In the end, he’d been proud that his kid was able to kill him, and even more proud when he convinced Tiffany to give him updates about his kid (kids, now, since they were twins) and found out that Glenda had gone on a successful killing spree all on their own. He’d vowed never to hurt his children, not if he could help it. Chucky had barely had parents, he wanted to be a good father who had a strong bond with his kids. That plan worked out great, didn’t it? 
Chucky pondered his options as he began to (carefully, now that he knew the truth) disinfect and sew up Nica’s wounds. He would’ve wrapped her wrists with bandages if it wouldn’t have drawn attention. It was startling to suddenly see somebody who was a victim for so long in a whole new light. He couldn’t try to kill her again, that wouldn’t be right, but she’d be freaked out if he suddenly began trying to get to know her. He resolved to not harm her physically, if Nica had a few new mental scars, well… she was in a mental hospital, wasn’t she? Keeping this in mind, he drew a vaguely threatening message in her blood before tucking her in and creeping out of the room.
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Keeping to his new plan, he killed people in front of his daughter. In his defence, the people he killed had tried to threaten Nica, or they’d annoyed her in some way, he was just helping her out, that’s what all parents do, right? They help their kids with their problems. He was slightly disappointed when Nica had his fingers burnt, but luckily he’d switched himself for another doll, thank you weird lady, there’s a reason your death was quick yet efficient.
He did step in to a greater degree when that creepy doctor tried to seduce his heavily drugged, non-consenting daughter. That sort of guy made him feel sick. After he’d knocked the bastard out, he tried to explain to Nica that he was her father, but the poor kid was so drugged that she fell asleep, probably didn’t hear a thing. Disappointed, he walked away and plotted his next move.
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As he slept that night, the perfect new plan came to him. He needed a new body, and Nica deserved to know how it felt to walk. It was the least he could do after so many years. Plus, it would be a great bonding experience, they’d spend all day together…
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This time the doctor had gone too far. Chucky had to step in, and he had to do it now. He knocked the guy out and began talking to Nica. Then, he brought some of his clones to life. Before he could continue talking to his daughter, a nurse walked in, which was… an inconvenience. After a quick murder and an assigning of orders, Chucky was finally alone with Nica.
He told her about his plan, she didn’t seem willing, but that was probably the drugs talking. He thought it was a great plan, they’d get to spend time together, Nica would get to experience walking and he would have a new body that greatly resembled his original body. It was a win-win scenario, and in a few weeks, maybe even a few hours, Nica would understand.
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The first thing Chucky did when he had control over the body was kill that doctor. He considered it an apology gift for everything he’d put Nica through. When he left the room, he taunted Andy Barclay (which was always fun) and saw some freak who had the audacity to pretend to be him get put out of his misery. This guy had slept with his daughter (he checked the security cameras and turned them off the second he realised what he was seeing) and he didn’t approve of him, so he was quite happy that he got to witness this particular murder.
Nica was still vaguely conscious in their shared headspace, she was terrified. She didn’t know what was going on. She was in no state to hear the truth, that would have to wait. Soon, Chucky reminded himself. Soon she’ll understand, soon she’ll realise that this was all for her. 
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narhinafan · 1 year
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https://twitter.com/J90186412/status/1610333140169691136?t=8T0BtEB74TdKPNlV_DZ2AQ&s=19
That is BS is it is disgraceful how they try and use Jiraiya to try and undermined Hinata's importance to Naruto.
First Pain not only killed Jiraiya but also Kakashi, while he didn't witness them personally he was still able to keep himself under control even after realising Kakashi died. Now if Naruto saw either Jiraiya or Kakashi in person I agree he would have went nine tails, but don't think he would end up to the extent that the seal starts break like with Hinata.
The reason being is that unlike Jiraiya Hinata was safe at ground zero of the attack with Naruto purposely avoiding her, getting Pain away from her and even looking at her before taking the fight somewhere else.
As where Jiraiya almost died when faced with four tails Naruto.
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Now don't get me wrong, Jiraiya is important to Naruto as both a teacher and father figure and Naruto cares a lot about him. However it is quite different and clear that Hinata even back then was someone special to Naruto that at a subconscious level even when losing control the fox still protects her. Naruto's bond with Hinata even at that point would be one of love or at least developing love. Further more Hinata's final words would have also helped trigger his fox state.
So would Jiraiya or Kakashi make him lose control? Yes!
Would he lose control as much as he did with Hinata and be able to avoid harming and protect them? I don't think so.
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What Were You Wearing?
I got the idea of this story after seeing a post on Facebook of what women and girls had been wearing when they were raped. The pictures ranged from baby shoes to jeans and a T-shirt to more traditional clothes. TW: child rape, child molestation, miscarriage, eating disorders, rape, self-harm. What were you wearing? The officer asks me, his greedy eyes searching me. What did he want to see? My body? If he saw my body, would he then think I was innocent? Or would he think my exposure at his request make me guilty?
He wouldn’t be the first to look at me in this way.
What were you wearing?
Well. Sir.  If you mean the first time this happened to me, I was seven. The neighbor boy would watch me play in the back yard. He was sixteen or seventeen, almost an adult and should have known better.
He would invite me over for chocolate chip cookies and milk. He would let me borrow his comic books and taught me how to play video games. It started small, a brush against my hand or pushing the hair out of my eyes. It progressed to hugs and kisses on the forehead. He would sit me on his lap while we played video games. He would whisper into my ear how much he loved me and how happy I made him as I could feel him hardening beneath me.
It was everything I wanted to hear. He filled the hole left by my dad, so I was desperate for the crumbs he threw me.
One afternoon, I went over to his house. He smiled at me and invited me to sit beside him on the couch. It was like every other afternoon.
Or it should have been.
He took my hand, stroked it, and guided it up his thigh. I didn’t know how pretty I was in my butterfly dress. He was sure other parts of me would be just as pretty.
He unzipped himself and put my hand on his dick. He was only halfway hard, so it felt like a giant worm in my hand. I knew boys and girls were different, but I didn’t know what to do with it.
One of his hands slid beneath my dress as the other hand pushed me down. I laid on the couch as he pushed up the skirt of my dress and he laid on top of me. As he penetrated me, he repeated every compliment he’d ever given me. I didn’t know if he was trying to reassure me or himself. All I could think was that love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.
My mom kept asking me why I threw my favorite dress in the trash. I couldn’t tell her why.
What were you wearing?
Do you need to know about the next time? Because I can tell you if you want.
I was about nine or ten when Mom decided to get saved. I think she was just tired of trying to find men in bars and decided she’d have better luck finding a good man at church.
She would wait until I was asleep to go out. I would wake up to laughing and moaning, but the relationships only lasted for a night. The only good thing I could say about the men was that they weren’t interested in me.  
He introduced himself to us during coffee and donuts after a service. I was more interested in picking out a donut that had the most sprinkles than in talking to him. Mom nudged me to keep me from being rude. Now I think I should have followed my instinct to be cruel if only to be kind to myself.
I was just a girl, so I had to be nice. I was nice enough to let him date Mom, to let him bring us gifts, to let him coach my softball team, to let him cook for us every weekend, to let him touch and hug me any chance he got. He was so friendly and charming and successful there was no way something was wrong with him, even if his touches made my stomach churn.  
Or so I told myself.
His reach into our lives wove itself so completely that it would be like cutting off a limb to let him go. It was only a few months before he and Mom were married and a shorter time than that before she was pregnant. Everyone was happy for us. I should have been happy too. I was getting everything I’d ever wanted.
I should have known there was a price.
The first time with him happened one morning. I’d gotten up early to watch cartoons as I did every Saturday. He knew this about me because he decided to get up early too.
I didn’t think anything of it. I was a little annoyed because I wanted to watch what I wanted on TV for a change and this new adult was interfering with that. All he said was good morning and sat beside me on the couch. He sat closer than I would have liked. After a while, he put one arm behind me and stroked my hair.
I froze under his touch. He continued to stroke my hair and leaned in to whisper in my ear that he would never hurt me.
My stomach dropped. That was what the neighbor boy had said.  
His lips pressed against my cheek and my neck as he pulled down the bottoms of my Hello Kitty pajamas. He knelt in front of me and I closed my eyes as he pulled down my underwear.
He leaned in and licked me. I didn’t know someone could do that. After the neighbor boy, I’d taken to exploring, if only to figure out what was going on down there. This felt better than what the neighbor had done, but it was somehow worse.
All I could do was sit there after he finished. There was almost no expression in his face, except for the satisfaction of a predator toying with his prey.
I continued to be too nice for years to come.
What were you wearing?
I guess I should tell you about the next person since you won’t stop asking.
I was in middle school. We thought we knew everything because we had phones and weren’t in elementary school anymore. We giggled and whispered and joked about drugs and sex.
We had all of the knowledge, but none of the experience or wisdom.  
At one of my softball team’s sleepovers, one of the girls bragged about sleeping with a high school boy. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard one of them bragging about the adult things they’d done, but instead of just bragging about themselves, they wanted everyone to share.
The stories passed around, under, and through my mind. All I could imagine was their judgmental stares as they accepted me as the slut I was if I told them about the neighbor boy, my stepfather, our softball coach.
The incident with the coach had happened the week before. I kept waiting for a ride, any ride. Ever since my brothers had been born, my mom’s attention had shifted from me to them, while my stepfather swayed between lavishing me with gifts and attention and ignoring me. As much as I longed for the attention, I preferred it when he ignored me. One of the moms reluctantly offered to take me home, but the coach had stepped in and said he would take me. I should have said something, but I needed attention from someone other than my stepfather.
I should have known when he took the long way home and pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned factory. I froze as he parked the van and reached over to stroke my sweaty hair. His hand trailed down, across my face and neck, and lingered on the breasts I still didn’t know what to do with.
One hand continued to grope and fumble while the other hand went down my baggy shorts. He stroked down there and commented that he didn’t like it when girls had hair down there. I didn’t tell him I refused to shave to annoy my stepfather.
He pulled his hands away and unzipped his fly. He put one hand on the back of my head and another on my back and pushed my head down to his lap.
I knew what he wanted. I’d performed for my stepfather often enough. Even if I hadn’t, I knew what a blowjob was, though well-meaning parents and teachers didn’t want us to know.
As expected, I put my mouth to his cock. He didn’t let me go at my own pace, but instead held on to my neck and controlled the pace. I tried to breath through my nose and not to gag as he forced me further and further down. His gasps and oh yeahs drowned out my attempts not to choke or any attempts to speak.
He finally came. I wasn’t able to swallow all of it as I was finally able to breathe. It dribbled down my chin and onto my shirt. I pulled my hoodie out of my bag and wiped off my face.
He told me he thought I would be better at giving head as he took me home. I seemed like the type.
I didn’t look at him, didn’t respond. Was there something about me that screamed slut and whore? Did he know what the neighbor boy and my stepfather had done to me?
I didn’t dare ask him those questions.
When I got home, I rushed out of the van and straight to the bathroom, ignoring my mom’s questions about where I’d been. I locked the door behind me and made it to the toilet just in time. I stripped off my clothes and leaned against the cool tile of the tub for a while, shaking and curled in on myself. I didn’t know why this time was so much worse than the others. Looking back, it was because it was the first time someone had confirmed that I deserved what kept happening to me.
When it came time for my turn, I mumbled that I was a virgin and let them make fun of me for months. It was preferable to the truth.
What were you wearing?
Why do you keep asking? Haven’t you figured out yet that clothes have nothing to do with this?
The next time it was someone other than my stepfather, I was sixteen.
I had decided to embrace the slut label and fucked anyone who wanted to fuck me. I’d gained a reputation by then, but what did it matter? I was already what everyone else thought.
I was dating a popular senior, even though it didn’t matter. I was still a slut and we still fucked other people.
I still don’t know how I maintained the image of the perfect high school girl. My stepfather demanded perfection out of all of us, probably to hide all of the dark shit happening in our suburban Mcmansion. I kept my grades up, played sports, and went to church while waiting for my stepfather’s night visits. Mom had officially converted to both Christianity and to Stepford Wifeness and hid her bruises beneath designer clothes.
I missed the old her because at least I knew I could trust her with the truth.
One Saturday night, I went to a party where me and my boyfriend managed to snag a bedroom. We put a chair against the door and ignored the knocks and requests for the room. I’d only had a couple of beers, but my boyfriend had something harder. I could smell it on his breath.
We made out on the bed as he laid on top of me. His hands fumbled with my tank top and jeans. I told him to stop. I wasn’t in the mood.
He paused and the energy of the room shifted. I knew the change in mood as much as I knew the back of my hand. I’d recognized the mood from my stepfather. It wasn’t about what I wanted, but what he wanted.
I calculated his weight and strength and speed against mine. I had zero chance of escape or winning a fight and he wasn’t listening to my words. As popular as he was, no one else would listen to me. I shut my mouth and laid still as he unbuttoned my jeans and underwear. His fingers trailed past the scars I’d made on my hips, a spot where no one would see them.  
He entered me and pumped in and out. I stared at the ceiling and counted the tiles to keep myself from looking at him. He didn’t take too long to finish and rolled off of me. I then realized that I had forgotten to ask about him using a condom.
I got home well after midnight. They didn’t care what time I got home as long as I went to church with them. I stumbled up to my room and collapsed onto my bed, not bothering to brush my teeth or change clothes.
It wasn’t too long before my stepfather came in. I didn’t know if he stayed up waiting for me or if he was just a light sleeper. I didn’t want to know. My mom slept like the dead unless it came to my brothers.
I still wonder if she pretended not to notice anything so as not to ruin her perfect life.
As usual, he sat on the bed. Only by the light of the streetlamp, he stroked my hair, my breasts, my thighs. I offered no resistance when he pulled down my pants and pushed my thighs apart. There was no point.
He lasted longer than my boyfriend, but he also finished with a grunt and didn’t bother to pull out. For a moment, I thought I should have asked him to use a condom, but he wouldn’t have bothered. I’d asked him once before and only once. He’d made it clear that it would ruin everything. Besides, how would my mother feel about our little secret? We didn’t need to leave any evidence.
The little secret became a big secret when I realized I didn’t remember when I’d had my last period. I’d broken up with my boyfriend soon after the party and avoided both him and the weekend parties. When asked why, I said it was because I needed to focus on school when I really just wanted to avoid him.
I told myself I couldn’t be pregnant. All of the times I’d had sex without protection, with or without consent had never resulted in pregnancy. Yes, I was nauseous and vomiting outside of my eating and drinking binges, but I was good at hiding all of that.
I locked myself in the bathroom and peed on the stick. I wished and prayed to every god I could think of for the test to be negative, but despite the prayers, the two lines still appeared.
I didn’t tell anyone about the pregnancy. I didn’t know what to do. I considered getting an abortion, but the state required my parents’ consent. Why did I need permission in a situation when I hadn’t given any?
A couple of weeks later, I started having cramps in the middle of a trig test. The equations blurred in front of me as I clutched my stomach. I stood up and tried to speak, but the world spun around me as I fell to the ground.
My mom met me in the emergency room. My youngest brother was attached to her hip, his outfit perfectly coordinated with my mom’s. I wish she hadn’t brought him when all I wanted was to tell her the truth. She wouldn’t allow that with a toddler in the room.
My mom was going off on the nurse. Why was I here for a simple miscarriage? They didn’t need to go to all of this trouble.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood. I refused to cry in front of strangers, including the one my own mother had become.
The doctor came in and said I needed to be admitted. Something about my potassium levels being low and they needed to keep an eye on it. All I heard was an excuse to get a break.
I said with a cracking voice that I wanted to stay if there was something wrong. My mom gave me a look, but agreed to let me stay.
They gave me ibuprofen and took me up to a room. Mom left and said she would be back, even though I gave her a coin toss chance of her doing that. I curled up on my side and watched bad daytime tv while they stuck ivs in my arm and pestered me with questions about what I ate since I was so thin.
I didn’t tell them that on top of my binging, Mom tried to limit what I could eat. She claimed that men didn’t like it when women didn’t watch their weight. Funny how she didn’t care before she met my stepdad.
My mom and stepdad showed up after dinner. I was still picking at my food and ignoring the cramps that continued to plague my back.
Of course he came with her. Why was he here? No matter what I told her, she probably wouldn’t believe me.
They didn’t ask me how I was feeling. Mom frowned at the tray of mostly uneaten food and reached for it. I pulled it away from her and stuffed part of a roll into my mouth.
As I chewed, the bread grew even more dry and stale as they asked me how I could have let this happen. I should have thought about the consequences and this would affect the family. Did I even know who the father was?
I stared at my stepfather as he asked me the question. I refused to look away. Maybe Mom would notice and get the hint.
She didn’t.
They left after I refused to answer any more questions. I laid in bed, listening to the night shift tending to the other kids. Some kid screamed down the hall for his mommy. I put the pillow over my head to try to drown out the screams because I wanted to do the same thing.
I wanted to call my mom. I wanted her to hold me and promise that we would never go back. That she would leave him. That I would be safe.
The tears sliding down my face turned into sobs. I must have drawn the attention of a nurse because she pulled the pillow away from my head and pulled me into a hug.
I didn’t know just I was crying about. Maybe it was because of the guilt over losing the baby I hadn’t wanted. Maybe it was because I was tired of being seen as something to be used. Maybe it was because even though I was staying in the pediatric ward, anything left of my childhood was now gone.
Or maybe it was I was tired of pretending everything was under control.
For a moment, I pretended the nurse was my mother and told her everything my stepfather had done to me.
I don’t know what I had expected to happen after that, but I hadn’t expected you to come in here acting like I was guilty of everything that had happened.
I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised.
After all, you’re friends with my stepfather.  
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swiftythewriter · 4 years
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so, i’m supposed to be studying and def not be on social media rn but i am legit tearing up about Martha Jones and what she means to me as a character that i’m just going to try and to write this out so i can hopefully focus
to get one thing straight, Martha Jones is not my favorite character. i started watching DW when I was about twelve and tbh, for years after that i never really connected with her. it’s not too surprising since in terms of background, personality, and life experience (because, come on, i’m a lily white, only child shut in from the deep south) we had next to nothing in common. 
but.
out of all the characters that have been on the show, Martha Jones is solidly the one I want to live up to the most. 
maybe the reasons why are obvious, but they didn’t really crystallize to me till just now. the main one, for me, is that through out her arc her happiness did not depend on another person. even within her arc where she faced the consequences of her unrequited feelings, she still had this noticeable trait before she even said it out loud.
to go and break it down further, i believe there are several aspects to her personality that are important contributors in this: dedication, responsibility, and strong sense of self worth
dedication: this one seems pretty obvious, since when we are first introduced to Martha we are shown her position as a med student in her last year of residency. everyone with passing knowledge of what it takes to be a doctor knows this isn’t for the faint of heart. knowing just that we can already infer that she’s studious, hard working, and intelligent.
but it goes beyond that, as is continually shown throughout her arc. she becomes know as the “Woman Who Walked the Earth”, a title she got by literally walking around the earth for a year in an apocalyptic hellscape and never once wavering in completing in her mission. she didn’t just join but rose through the ranks of UNIT to the point where she was trusted with the Osterhagen key-quite literally the most important responsibility given to any single person at that point in human history.
and if we are talking about less dramatic examples, kindly take a look where Martha spent months undercover in an incredibly racist time period with absolutely no support despite there being actually no reason beyond Ten needing his little moral moment and yet not only managed to keep her spirits, but also is directly responsible for the Doctor’s plan not being any more of a clusterfuck than it already was. same story with “Blink”, where they both got trapped in the sixties and Martha once more had to stand up and handle things behind the scenes.
next, responsibility: this ties in really well with dedication and it can go double for all the things i listed above. the reason i think this is, is that as a result of her dedication and moral code, Martha tends to take on the problems set before her to the best of her abilities because she sees it as the right thing to do.  
but what i really want to look at is Martha’s sense of emotional responsibility, as in not the actions she takes but why she takes them. i feel like this is best seen in how she acts towards her family and is what really sets her apart from the other companions in the series. 
because you know what she does? she stays. her family needs her.
and here’s the ringer because name one character, one, since her that makes an active effort to maintain their relationships with their families when the Doctor comes to play. i can’t. really, i can’t
Donna? doesn’t count. she might love her family but when push comes to shove she was willing to die with the Doctor-or more accurately for who she became with the Doctor, than to live her life with them.
Rose? don’t make me laugh. she loves her mother to death, but not enough to choose her first.
Jack? no family to speak of at that point, but look how fast he leaves his friends at the very hint of the Doctor coming back into his life. yes, he has his immortality based reasons but there’s nothing about their scenes that doesn’t scream emotional.
Amy and Rory? i can count on one hand how many times the topic of relatives has come up for Amy and it still leaves me a finger left over for Rory. despite magically getting her parents back in her life she seems awfully unconcerned with their general existence. 
i’m also not entirely sure Rory has parents-or even connections, beyond his dad. he might have just sprung up in a field somewhere, and we’d never know. hey, maybe Amy wished him into existence a bit earlier than we all thought.
Clara? i’m almost certain she has parents. almost. like, she had an entire holiday dinner?? i’m pretty sure she mentioned her dad at some point?? but beyond the meet cute of how her parents got together, zilch. nada. she might as well have been an orphan.
Bill? okay she was actually an orphan but i don’t think she actually mentioned or contacted her foster mother after she moved out. not sure this counts tho. the Doctor was dading too hard to say she had no parents.
i admit the newest companions kind of break the mold but I still say it counts since the only familial connection Ryan and Graham try to maintain to between each other and while Yaz might be close to her family her life with the Doctor seems to be taking priority over both her career and how much she spends time connecting with her family.
honestly the only one that even comes close to subverting the pattern is Mickey and the only reason he doesn’t properly is because he didn’t have any living family before going to Pete’s world.
but even in the beginning Martha spends time actively maintaining her relationships with her family members. again, in her first episode we see her playing mediator for her family, and going on we see her doing her best to support her sister, be a good daughter to her mother, and keep her family connected through sheer will power at times. sure, the other companions have shown the appropriate concern when there’s threat to their loved ones lives, but Martha again subverts the mold when it becomes clear that she’s not willing to let them go. 
so, back to responsibility. 
you tie this with her morals and you get the result of a doctor that gives her last breaths to keep another person alive. 
you tie this with her dedication and you get the kind of person who will walk to the ends of the earth if she deems the cause good enough. 
and finally, if you tie this with her emotional connections, you have the kind of person that takes the hard, messy work of tying together a somewhat dysfunctional family with her bare hands.
so now we’ve reached a strong sense of self worth: this i think is present in all of her decisions in the show. like, her entire story arc as a companion was ended on the note that she discovered her self worth and that she shouldn’t made to be feeling like she’s second fiddle. but, again, i feel like this is shown clearly throughout her story line even if she didn’t consciously recognize it. 
the most obvious example i see on this kind of contrasts with the above one, and it is that Martha leaves. She chooses to go with the Doctor and see what’s out there. It’s not a decision her mother and perhaps the rest of her family would or does approve of and she still makes it.
she also, having taken the not so metaphorical leap of faith, chooses to pursue the Doctor romantically. that is something that i did not appreciate as a kid but respect the hell out of now. the sheer self confidence that it takes to not only approach your crush but pick yourself up after they don’t notice time and time again is absolutely incredible. we stan an absolute legend.
but back to my point, it would’ve been incredibly easy for Martha’s character to have been introduced as the stereotype of one of those people who go into medschool due to parental pressure. it could’ve even been supported by her background with her family and future character arc of discovering her worth.  but all those assertions evaporate the second she comes on screen. 
Why? Self worth. 
The concept that Martha could be pressured into her path in life is laughable. She perused medicine because she wanted to. It’s her passion. She didn’t have to say it out loud to be clear in her actions. 
Her family’s wants and opinions might have some weight because she respects them, but ultimately she doesn’t need their approval to make herself happy. Her teachers, peers and assumed friends at her school also had the same affect. 
Martha Jones went with the Doctor because she wanted to, and she stayed because she wanted to as well. Her choices are made to be the most fulfilling to herself. Yes, they are motivated by her responsibilities and dedication to see them through, but that is it-motivated. She does not need to live up to to the things people need from her to have fulfillment. 
See the choices she made after she left the Doctor if you want any indication. She enlisted in UNIT because she realized she could do more for the world than just be a doctor, and she decided she wanted to. She got into and out of an engagement because she was in touch with what made her happy and what didn’t. The choices she made during her time with UNIT were ones that she made not because the Doctor would approve-since she knew he wouldn’t, but were ones she reasoned were the best options forward. 
And finally, when Martha decided after the near end she didn’t want to be with UNIT anymore, she left and went to find something that she wanted to do more. 
i once read an excellent post that made the point that unlike other companions, Martha Jones never needed the Doctor, and it was absolutely right. In the end of the day, Martha Jones never needed anything but her own to hands to go and make the world a better place.
And you know what? At that, she is good. 
#help this was supposed to be a small text post and now it's an essay i spent 4 hours on#I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE STUDYING#now it's midnight#i have 4 tests in less than a week#whyyy do i keep doing this#...maybe i should get checked for adhd after all#and i have all the things i need to do that i haven't#sigh#side note this thing came into existence because i named my car the Martha Jones because i love her#also completely off topic but Mickey is frankly the best person in the verse and honestly he deserved So Much Better#seriously he's such a kind and smart and loyal person why was he made to feel like he wasn't important#in my next essay i will be discussing how much of an Utter Dick ten was omfg#nothing like rewatching something with the perspective of adulthood#like#literally everything he did was to get a reaction out of people and then he critisied them for having very logical responses#and honestly his relationship with Rose was not all that healthy#he encouraged a lot of really unhealthy behavior that she picked up on and yikes#like how he went from Nine trying to keep her out of harms way to the two of they giggling over nearly being gutted by a werewolf#which is really common! in this series! but the way he handled it kind of encouraged her to be reckless with her life#also her behavior with Mickey and her mother-which don't get me wronf she's 100% responsible for#but at the same time in toxic relationships people tend to pick up on negative behaviors to fit in#and her reactions in that respect really increased in s2#wait fuck am i writing another essay#dw#doctor who#martha jones#character analysis#meta#essay#dw season 2
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messers-moony · 3 years
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Help | R.B
Paring: Regulus Black X Daughter!Reader
Summary: At first it was for him, now everything he does is for her. 
Warnings: Rape, cursing, death, etc
Being wise comes with living. Dumbledore had lived a lot of years. Everyone knows that. The man worked his way up the hierarchy from being a Transfiguration teacher to the headmaster at Hogwarts. He was even offered a place as the Minister of Magic. What people didn’t comprehend or, rather, didn’t think about was, when living that long you realize every button to push, every nook and cranny to get your way. 
Manipulation at its finest. Now, truth be told, manipulation isn’t always evil. It can be good, per se, manipulating someone to stop doing something that’s particularly harmful - alcohol, smoking. But when used negatively, it could make everything worse. 
The Order of the Phoenix was manipulated. From beginning to end. Dumbledore convinced the young kids - naive kids - that they were safe and that’s what they needed. These kids needed reassurance that everything would be okay, and Dumbledore assured them that they were safe. 
But were they safe when the McKinnon family died? Were they safe when Fabian and Gidian Prewett died? Could James and Lily truly depend on Dumbledore to keep them safe with a newborn? 
When Sirius Black joined the order, he had one request. Just one. A linear, singular request. It was saving Regulus Black. That’s all Sirius wanted, was for his little brother to be safe. Sirius knew about Regulus being a death eater, and he needed saving. Regulus didn’t want this life, and he especially didn’t want this with a baby girl. 
He was seventeen, and he was forced. Sirius knew it. James knew it. Remus knew it. Regulus had come to the Gryffindor portrait crying on his knees, begging - no - pleading for his older brother. The Fat Lady was cursing him out for not having the password and being a Slytherin. Luckily, James heard the ruckus and ran to his aid. He was yelling for Sirius. 
“Sirius! Sirius, I need you!” James had never sounded so frantic, so panicky, “Sirius, now!”
Sirius threw the textbook on the floor. James’ voice reminded him of an alarm - crazed, loud, repetitive. The black-haired boy ran down the dorm steps, almost falling over his feet to see the portrait wide open. Everything went in a vignette, zoomed in and black around the edges. Immediately Sirius was pushing James off his little brother and embracing him tightly. 
“S- Sirius.”
Godric, he sounded so broken, “‘S okay, Reggie. ‘S okay. I got you. It’s me, Sirius. You’re safe here, Frère.”
“It- It hurts.” Regulus muttered, his voice shaky and helpless, “Need you.”
“You’re okay.” 
Sirius looked up into James’ worried hazel eyes, “C’mon. We’re bringing him up.”
“Are you mental?!”
“James, he’s my brother!”
James scowled, “He’s also a Slytherin!”
“He needs me. I’m not letting him go.” It was the first time Sirius’ voice had gone stern with James, “Either I’m sleeping out here with my brother, or you’re helping me bring him up to the dorm.”
“Fine, fine.” 
Sirius looked down at his brother, who was tucked under his chin, silver streams trailing down his flushed cheeks. His cheeks glistened with anguish and pain. His fists were balling the back of Sirius’ white button-up, tightly, stressed. 
“Reggie.” For the first time, Regulus didn’t cringe, and instead, he melted into Sirius’ warmth, “James and I are going to bring you into our dorm, okay?”
“Mhm.”
Gently Sirius helped him up, placing an arm around his shoulder. James put his other arm around his shoulder. Both boys helped the sixth year into the Gryffindor common room, getting multiple stares and glares. Regulus managed to up the stairs onto Sirius’ bed, a sniffling and trembling mess. 
James smiled gently at them, and Sirius sat beside Regulus on the edge of his bed, “What happened?”
“She- She forced me. I didn’t want to. Please, Sirius, I didn’t want this.”
“Want what?”
“She touched me.” Regulus whispered, and Sirius rubbed his back, “I- I didn’t want it….”
Sirius hesitated, “Did- Did mum have anything to do with this?”
Regulus nodded, and silent tears fell down his cheeks, “She- Mum, is the reason. I was supposed to be arranged to this woman but- but she did this and- and-“
“It’s too much.” Regulus wailed. 
Sirius held his brother close until he fell asleep. The trails of tears dried on his cheeks, and Sirius laid his head on the feathery pillow. The fleece comforter was placed over his wrinkled button-up, black pants, and socks. Regulus’ black curls contrasted the pillow, and his cheeks were a pale pink. Sirius had never felt so upset. 
Releasing a breath of air, he left the dorm room to go to the common room where the boys were sitting. James perked up, and Remus’ head was pulled into a book, a cup of tea on the table beside him. Peter was playing chess with a fellow Gryffindor across the room, not paying attention to anything but the checkered table before him. 
“Is he okay?” 
Sirius plopped beside James, “He will be.”
The silence was killing Remus to the point of his curiosity tipping over, “What happened exactly?”
“Some girl, my mum, arranged him with did something that he didn’t consent to.”
The teacup that was in Remus’ hand dropped to the carpeted floor, staining, “You’re shitting me?”
Regulus was in pain, physically and emotionally. Although the boys didn’t understand completely, they understood that Sirius’s time would be dedicated to his little brother. No matter what was going on in the wizarding world at present, Sirius’ time was needed with Regulus. 
It was nine months later. Thirty-nine weeks later. Two hundred and seventy-three days later. Left on the doorstep of the Noble House of Black’s residence was a baby girl. Orion and Walburga had left the house previously, leaving Regulus alone with Kreacher, their house elf. The baby girl was crying and helpless. 
His lifeless grey eyes met the young girl's e/c ones, and everything clicked. This was the product of his emotional pain in his sixth year. Regulus couldn’t deny the warmth in his heart looking at the young girl. Gently he leaned down to take her in his arms. A pink silk blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm despite the summer months. 
Once in his arms, the girls stopped crying. The warmth of his body and the softness in his eyes calmed her down. There was an envelope inside the baby blanket, which Regulus opened after placing the sleeping child on his lap. Essentially the letter was telling him to name the baby girl and her birthday. Along with now that the marriage was called off, she wanted nothing to do with him. 
Regulus threw the parchment to the side furiously. Despite his frustration, he picked up his daughter and smiled at her, “I dunno what to name you precious.”
The girl wrapped her hand around his thumb that had been caressing her cheek, “Y/n? I like that name.”
She smiled, and so did he, “You like that too, don’t you, précieux.”
Regulus placed a kiss on Y/n’s forehead, rocking her back and forth, “I love you so much.” 
During the school year, Y/n stayed with Sirius, who was overjoyed to stay with his niece. Regulus only saw his daughter one more time before he decided it was his end. Regulus knocked on Sirius’ flat, looking utterly exhausted. Sirius answered with a big smile on his face. 
“Heya Reggie!”
Regulus struggled to smile, “Hey, Siri.”
“Come on.” Sirius beckoned, “Y/n is sleeping, but you can see her if you’d like.”
He walked in to see a door open to a small room. Inside it was painted in a pale lavender color with white furniture. Regulus walked inside to find a crib with his one-year-old girl sleeping inside. She made this so much harder. Regulus didn’t want to do this, but he needed to do it if he wished Y/n to have a safe life. 
Regulus’ arms cradled his daughter to his chest, “I love you, précieux. I love you too much to express. I know that you’ll never remember me. I’m praying that Sirius will tell you about me.”
“You’re my baby girl. You’ll always be my baby girl.” Regulus’ eyes welled with tears, “And- And I’ll be with you no matter what.”
Y/n’s eyes opened, and she smiled, being cradled in her father's arms, “Dada?” 
Regulus had tears streaming down his face, and Sirius watched from the doorway, “Yes, hi petite fille.”
She giggled, and Regulus had the brightest smile on his face; he nuzzled his nose with hers, “Dada’s here, little girl.”
He spent an hour with her. The last sixty minutes of his freedom was spent cooing and coddling. Regulus wanted to engrave her beautiful e/c eyes in his head, her soft smile, smooth skin, and fuzzy hair. Regulus placed his daughter back in the crib and kissed her forehead one more time. 
Walking back out into the living room of the flat, he saw Sirius waiting for him. Regulus didn’t make any appoint to try and sit down. That’s how Sirius knew was something wrong. He released an air of breath and dried his tears. 
“Sirius, you may have to keep Y/n with you a little longer until it’s safe, okay?”
“‘Course Reggie.”
“If- If I don’t come back-“
“Don't say that, please.”
Regulus looked at his brother solemnly, “But it’s realistic.”
“Okay, just- try to make it back.” Sirius replied. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try.” He lied, “I- I want you to tell her about me, yeah?”
Sirius chuckled, “You’re her father, Regulus. I wouldn’t not tell her.”
“Don’t let her mum take her. I don’t care what she says Y/n will be in your care.”
Sirius nodded, “One- One more thing. This may sound stupid but, teach her French?”
“Teach her French? Why?”
“It’s how I used to talk to her before seventh year started. I want her to know how to speak it. French was something I enjoyed learning, something that kept me sane at our horror house.” Regulus confessed, “I want her to learn it.”
“If it means that much to you, Reggie.” Sirius replied, and Regulus nodded, “It does.”
“Then Y/n will learn French, after English.” 
“Good.”
Regulus began walking out the door when he felt arms around him from behind and a head in the crook of his neck, “Come back alive, okay?”
“I’m gonna try, Siri.”
He never came back alive. Regulus walked toward the entrance of that cave, knowing that today he was going to die. In the start, this was for Regulus to right his wrongs. Now it’s for his daughter. If anything, Y/n deserved a happy, exciting life. Not one of pain and suffering like Regulus had. 
The Daily Prophet the next day said everything it needed to, “REGULUS BLACK DECLARED DEAD.” This was it. Regulus had inevitably left his daughter and got himself killed. Sirius cried - sobbed - for his little brother who had a child. He wept for his niece, who would grow up not knowing her father. 
Ten years later, Y/n was getting ready for her first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had introduced baby Harry with one-year-old Y/n at the time where they became best friends. Harry was gravely disappointed at his best friend leaving but excited that he’d see her the following year. 
In the bathroom, Y/n was sitting in front of the mirror with Sirius behind her. Sirius was brushing her hair, not because she couldn’t do it but because Sirius didn’t really want to let her go. After setting the brush on the counter, he placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. She looked so much like him. His hands twirled through her h/c hair. 
“You look like your father.”
Y/n’s eyes widened, “I- I do?”
“You do.”
“I don’t remember much from him.” Y/n stated, “I remember him calling me précieux, vaguely, which I know now is precious.”
Sirius chuckled, “He also made me teach you, French. It was one of his wishes before he- you know.”
“Why?”
“Learning French is a pure-blood thing. Regulus said it kept him sane.” Sirius answered, “I honored that even if I hated that language.”
It was silent for a while, “You know, sometimes when you’re angry, you just start ranting in French?”
“I don’t!”
Sirius laughed, “You do. You definitely do, amour.”
Y/n giggled, and Sirius began tickling her sides. Her laughter and smile were contagious, just like how Regulus’ was. Regulus had such an infectious laugh and beautiful smile. Sirius was almost glad Y/n inherited it. After tickling her, she melted into Sirius’ embrace, hugging him tightly. 
“Je t'aime, oncle Sirius.”
“Je t'aime aussi, amour.”
It was a system Sirius had created with her instead of saying, “Toujours Pur,” like his mother had made him and Regulus say. Y/n is what made him love French again. The way she swore in the language unintentionally. How she’d say the language like a native, just like her father. It meant everything to him. 
Years later. Y/n was in fifth year, and the Triwizard tournament members had just been called. Viktor Krum was called first. Then Fleur Delacour. Then Cedric Diggory. That was meant to be the finality, but nonetheless, Harry Potter’s name got called. As all the members walked into a room away from the Great Hall, Dumbledore began speaking to the worried children. 
One sentence stood out to Y/n particularly, “Help will always be given at Hogwarts for those who deserve it.”
It brought so much rage in her that she couldn’t help but speak, “That’s bullshit!”
Everyone stared with jaws slack, “My father deserved help! Hell, he needed to be saved, and here because of your bullshit, he died! My father is gone because of you and your shitty manipulative ways!”
“He may have been a death eater, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Godric, he needed saving! His own brother turned on him. So fuck you and fuck your stupid sayings. Because you aren’t a saint, and I don’t have to fall to your knees like a worthless soldier.”
Dumbledore was astonished by her attitude as she began leaving the Great Hall, “That's one hundred points from Gryffindor, Ms.Black!” McGonagall yelled. 
“Pardonnez mon français, mais je m'en fous.” Y/n yelled as she flicked off everyone in the room. 
Before she left, she turned around and faced everyone, “If anyone- and I mean anyone, touches, talks badly, or even remotely glares at Harry Potter, so help me, I won’t hesitate to hex you.”
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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years
Text
Right Place, Right Time
wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe
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Warnings: mentions of death
“There's trouble, boss.”
Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.
“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.
“A Zoldyck.”
Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.
Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.
The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.
“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.
“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).
“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.
“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.
“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”
Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.
Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.
If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.
But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.
Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.
Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.
“You two wait out here,” he ordered.
Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.
Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.
This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.
It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.
“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.
“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”
Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.
“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.
Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.
“You think you can pay me off?”
“It worked once before.”
“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”
“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”
“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”
Illumi sighed.
“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”
“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”
“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”
“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.
Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.
Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.
Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.
Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.
“3 billion and I'll leave.”
“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”
“So it's worth my while.”
Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.
“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.
“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”
“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”
Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.
“Why four minutes?”
“Personal reasons.”
Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.
“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”
“Four minutes is unreasonable?”
“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”
“Are you trying to haggle with me?”
Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.
“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.
“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”
Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.
“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”
Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.
“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”
With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.
“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”
“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.
“Oh?”
“I got fired before you got here.”
“..... Excuse me?”
There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”
Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.
The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.
But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?
Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.
“Your four minutes start now,” he said.
Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.
“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”
Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.
“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”
With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.
Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.
Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.
Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.
“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”
“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.
“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.
The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.
A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.
“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.
“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.
“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.
“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.
“Huh?”
Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.
It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.
Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.
“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”
“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”
Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.
Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.
As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.
Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.
You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.
And then you ran into him.
The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.
He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.
Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.
And then you got caught.
You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.
So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.
But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.
You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.
“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.
Wait....
“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.
“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.
You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.
“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”
With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.
“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”
That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.
“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.
“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”
“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”
Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.
The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.
“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.
“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”
With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.
“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”
His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.
The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.
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after-witch · 3 years
Text
Comfy Couch [Yandere Hawks x Reader]
Title: Comfy Couch [Yandere Hawks x Reader]
Synopsis: It’s fine if you’re not paying attention to Netflix, really. But not paying attention to your boyfriend? That won’t fly. 
For request:  Could I request a soft yandere Hawks fic centred around him getting jealous?
Word Count: 1000-ish
Notes: Yandere, unhealthy relationships, emotional manipulation 
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He doesn't know how you do it. 
How you can turn the ordinary act of snuggling together on the couch, only half paying-attention to whatever new binge-worthy Netflix show went viral this week, into an absolutely perfect afternoon. There's nothing special about what you're doing, nothing special about the day. But everything you do is somehow extraordinary.
The soft warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you occasionally make a comment about the show, the way your smile lights up when you laugh and--
Oh, no. He could do without the way you keep picking your phone off the couch cushion and thumbing through it. He could do without the constant dings from your messages, though you did (to your credit) quickly turn your phone to vibrate when you noticed how irritating it was becoming.
You didn't have many faults. Really. But the fact that you were constantly glued to your phone--glued to your friends--was definitely one of your least wonderful traits.
"Babe," he says, drawling out the sound in an effort to keep things casual--to keep you from knowing how much he was growing to loathe your phone.  "C'mon, put that thing away already! You know how hard it is for me to get a day off."
You hunch your shoulders and smile, and it's so damn sheepish that he can't help but forgive you in that instant. You're so fucking cute. "Sorry," you say, mouth grinning, teeth flashing. "It's the BFF. She's going through some stuff right now and I want to check up on her."
He raises his eyebrows, then nods in a show of understanding, because he knows that you want him to care about your friends, even when he doesn't. Especially this BFF that was constantly pulling you away--worst of all, you let her pull you away. He tried not to fault you for it but it was hard, sometimes. Like now. Like when the perfect afternoon is marred by the realization that while he's thinking about you, staring at the curve of your neck and debating if he should cover it with love bites, you were thinking about... her. Again.
"Bathroom break!" You say suddenly, hopping up and depriving Hawks of your comforting warmth. Thankfully, you don't believe in bringing phones into the bathroom, so you leave it in the cushion before giving a little wave and heading to the bathroom.
He waits until the door is shut, locked, and he can hear you turn on the fan to cover the noise of your business (so cute!) to grab the phone. He swiftly taps in your password--you made it your birthday, I mean, it's like you wanted him to know, right?--and enters the little screen world you've been drifting off to all day.
It's a quick, easy mission. He mutes the aggravatingly active conversation with your BFF. If you happen to open your phone and check the messages, you'll never know it was his doing, you'll assume you accidentally swiped or tapped on the wrong thing. No harm, no foul. If you don't open your screen, and think she's ghosted...well,  then he can stop worrying about your so-called friend interrupting for today.
He sets the phone down and pretends like he's watching the show, only glancing over again when you hop back onto the couch and slot yourself against him once more. He smiles. You smile. If he had a pang of regret about lying to you (and he doesn't, when it comes to making sure you're paying attention to him) it would have vanished with the uptick of your pretty lips.
He wraps his arm tighter around your shoulder. This is how it should always be: just you and him, nothing (and no one) between you. The world wasn't fair. But he could deal with making time for you in between his work (public and secret) if he knew you were devoted to him. And you are--aren't you?
Sometimes he wonders. Like right now. You keep lifting up your phone and pressing on the side, watching the lock screen light up and setting it down when you don't see any message notifications on the lock screen. There--you did it again. And again.
"I do have a clock if you gotta know the time." His voice has the slightest edge to it.
You must notice, at least a little, because you're quick to flash that embarrassed, humble smile again. The one you know always makes him back down--you’re a bit manipulative, aren’t you? He can appreciate that, in the right mood.
"Sorry!” You say, voice full of excuses. “I'm waiting for her to text me back. I asked if she wanted to do something tonight, if she wanted to talk about what happened, but... she hasn't said anything."
"Ahh," he says, and he loves the way the tiny bit of tension in your shoulders melts when you realize he's not annoyed or mad. "She probably just wants some alone time.” He thinks, then flashes a little grin. “You’re such a great friend to her. But since she's apparently not up to go out, how about we go to that new restaurant you wanted to try? The one with the rooftop lounge?"
Any irritation he had with you dies the instant you smile, practically beaming, at him. But then you frown, just a bit--a pout, a show of confusion. It's cute. "But--how are we going to get reservations so late?"
He shrugs, easy-peasy. "I can swing it, babe. Don't worry about anything but showing up."
You set your phone on the coffee table, far enough away that he knows he's won this battle for now, and cuddle close into his chest. You're talking, rambling on, asking him about the dress code and looking up the menu and oh won’t it be fun to eat on the rooftop. He hmms and nods, not really listening. All he can think about is your smell and the feel of you with him, only him. If he could get rid of your friend forever, he would. If he could keep you here forever, he would.
Even the thought of separating for an hour or two while you get dressed is making him anxious. But it will be worth it when you’re back in his arms, dressed to the nines, holding him close as you eagerly enter the hottest restaurant in town.
He’ll just have to think of a way to make sure you forget your phone in the car between now and then.
468 notes · View notes
pvrpleblccd · 3 years
Text
Promise.
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pairing : shuntaro chishiya x f reader
tw : angst, unresolved grief, death, mentions of death, blood, violence (beating up someone), chishiya being violent
a/n : this is my first post- cndovn- but i am currently having a massive crush on this man right here <3 ALSO CHISHIYA GIVES ME MASSIVE KENMA VIBES (im sorry for the typos, i wrote this at 4 am-)
-
There he was again, sitting at the edge of the rooftop of the Beach, hoods on and hands in his white Nike zip up sweater, well, it was given to him. He looked down to see all of the horny animals dancing and living their life as if it was their last day. Chishiya sighed, ‘Everyone looks like their all about to die, as always.’
It was a beautiful day in this cruel country. But it’s just like any other day, people will die tonight, either because their visa will expire or die during a game. Dying in a game, probably the worst death here. Chishiya sighed again and took a deep breath, trying to erase all negativity going through his head. Though, there’s one thing that he can’t get out of his head.
“Hey, Chishiya.”
Chihsiya whipped his head to where he heard the voice. He was about to call her name, but he only saw Kuina at the door of the rooftop entrance, looking at Chishiya with a confused look. ‘Ah... I’m still hearing her voice, I must be crazy.’
“An told me you guys had a meeting, I’m just here to rely the message to you.”
The blonde male nodded and stood up, making his way to where Kuina was. No words were exchanged between the both of them, though Kuina noticed the slight mood change the male had every now and then. There are times where he’s cocky, would always slide comment when he had the chance, had his guard up, and times where he just became more reserved than ever and was cold and gloomy.
Kuina noticed, but never dared prying on it, not wanting to get on the intelligent man bad side.
Chishiya on the other side, he zipped up the white hoodie he loved very much. He entered the meeting room and sat at his place, like always, though he kept a pokerface while hugging the hoodie he was wearing. He felt several pair of eyes on him, not on him, but the zip up he was wearing. No one dared to say anything, though Niragi wasn’t having it.
“Chishiya. Were you really obligated to wear that zip up when we’re in a meeting?!”
Niragi shouted from his place, gripping hard the rifle he had in his hand. No one budge or said anything, even Hatter looked at Chishiya, both with envy and anger in his eyes.
“It was given to me. Why whouldn’t I wear it? If you’re thinking that we should share it, you, out of everyone in this room, that I don’t share what I own. And plus, if we shared it, you’d only get blood on it and dirty it, y/n managed to keep it white and as clean as possible. I won’t let your stupidity ruin it.”
“You wouldn’t know what y/n would have wanted!” Niragi stood up and pointed his rifle at the blonde male.
“I knew y/n longer than you.”
“We were still close!”
“To someone like you? I don’t think so, you’re a complete psycho, Niragi.”
“Give it a break! We’re all mourning Chishiya, espicially An! So what the hell do you mean, y/n-”
“Y/n is dead.” Last Boss said while looking at the arguing males.
The room was even more quiet than it ever was, not only with the statement, but for the bald tattooed male to speak up and empathized the dead made them slightly uncomfortable. With no one saying a thing for a minute or two, Mira stood up and talked about the card they were able to collect and that they haven’t gotten news ones for a while. An talked about the medical supplies and that she was running out from it, Hatter asked Aguni and his Militants to accompany An for a short run to grab all supplies they can gather.
She was the first one to leave, the meeting room which was understandable. When no one said anything, Hatter talked about adding a new rule. Rule number three, death to traitors.
Soon after, the meeting was done.
The blonde male made his way to his room, opening the door he saw a familiar figure sitting on his bed, when he blinked the figure was gone. Chishiya closed his room door and laid on his bed, looking at the ceiling. He never felt so confused and empty in his entire life. He never wanted to deal with anyone’s emotions or feelings, let alone his. But upon on thinking and thinking, he came to a conclusion he now only realized.
How much he loved y/n.
“Damn it. This hurts... This sucks.”
Too tired and exhausted to think, Chishiya closed his eyes and embraced the darkness that surrounded him.
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“Chishiya?” A voice called out.
The blonde male turned his head, seeing a petite figure looking at him as if he was a ghost. He looked at her from head to toe and his eyes grew wide, he instantly got up and hugged the petite figure.
“Y/n?” He said in a weak voice.
The petite figure sighed in relief and hugged the male back, while letting out a small sob. They were currently in an abandonned mall, gathering food and necessities to get through the night. Y/n came back with a ton of canned food and water, while Chishiya came back with the others things they needed, such as flashlights and batteries and other things.
The both of them were catching up upon missed times and Chishiya kept eyeing on how she was dressed, grey sweatpants with a nike zip up and what looked like a swimsuit top, and the pink locker bracelet around y/n wrist. The numbers 009 was on the bracelet and the girl knew he was looking at it.
“What’s the most recent game you completed?” The petite girl asked.
“Six of diamonds, how about you?” Chishiya said, eating the canned peach. He didn’t noticed the slight spark in y/n’s eyes, but she smiled.
“Nine of hearts.” Y/n said and took a bite of her food.
A comfortable and peaceful silence was set between the two until the girl broke it.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
~
“Hatter, I want him to be part of the executives.”
Y/n said right after they all welcomed her back. All of them looked at her with confused and looked at Chishiya then back at y/n. The girl only smiled and put all of cards she collected on the table. Chishiya couldn’t believe the amount of cards she had in her possession, there was 14 cards in total.
“Chishiya cleared a diamonds game and is the lone survivor, I highly believe that his skills can be very useful to us. Also, I have known him before entering the Borderland. He is like a precious gem, full of hidden talents!”
She said while putting her hands in her grey sweatpants.
The blonde male was taken aback by the sudden praise, but dind’t show it. The others turned their attention to Chishiya, hearing the praise from y/n made them have a base opinion on Chishiya, he was smart and must not be harmed. Hatter started to explain the two rules to Chishiya and handed him a blue locker bracelet with the number 011 on it.
“Enjoy the Beach!”
~
After Chishiya settled in the Beach for a couple of weeks, he and y/n grew closer than they ever were before. The two of them became inseparable.
During one night, Chishiya and y/n were hanging out in the lobby, they were part of the first teams that finished early. Chishiya lost his other hoodie, blood was splattered on it, due to a player clung onto him begging him to help him and his collar went off.
In short words, he was currently shirtless. Y/n trying her best not to look, couldn’t help, but take a peek, thought the blonde male caught her.
“Like what you see?”
He said with a grin plastered on his face. Out of embarrassment, she took off her white Nike zip up and handed it to Chishiya, who watched her with an amused expression.
“H-here...! It’s yours now..!” She said and sprinted to elsewhere.
Chishiya sat there smiling at himself and decied to put the zip up on. He got up from his place and went off to find y/n. A part of him starting to worry, since it’s been an hour and he hasn’t found the petite girl yet. He passed the lobby at least three or four times, that’s when he started asking around.
With no one knowing where the girl was, he even asked Niragi, he too was worried so they both went on their sides to find her. Chishiya went outside and started to walk around the perimeter until he heard an oh so familiar voice coming form the sketchy alleyway.
“Were you hiding the cards from Hatter?”
“So what if I was?! I had to watch my friends die in front of me to be able to get this card! I’m not giving it to some cult leader or whatever he is!”
Chishiya rushed to the voices and saw one of the new militants holding three cards in his left hands and a gun in this right. Y/n tried to reason with the boy, but it only seemed to boil his blood even more, to the point he raised his gun. Chishiya ran to y/n side and hid her behind him, y/n on the other side was surprised.
“Put the gun down... You’re pointing it at the most important person apart from Hatter.” Chishiya tried calm the boy down, but didn’t work.
“Y/n... You remember Kirika? She was close to you right? Did you know that she gave her life up so that I can survive the game? Her last words were, ‘Tell y/n, thank you... I love you Aki-kun.’ She gave her life for me because she loved me!”
Aki broke down crying, falling on his knees and letting out pained screams. Y/n came forward tears falling down her cheek and approached Aki and gave him a hug. She careful put the gun down and caressed the top of Aki’s head.
“Kirika was a wonderful person, Aki, she was-“
Y/n sentence was cut abruptly and Chishiya took a step wondering why y/n suddenly stopped talking, he took another stop forward, his eyes widening seeing Aki’s hands was covered in blood and held a knife. He dropped the knife and moved his hand to grab the gun next to him.
“You’re all Hatter’s soldier. We have to end this, I have to end it.”
Aki grabbed the gun and slowly got up, hair covering his eyes. While Chishiya looked at how y/n’s body fell to the side and seeing a dark substance staining her grey sweatpants. A small pool of her own blood was starting to form underneath her.
Chishiya looked at Aki who was still mumbling things, but he saw red. The blonde grabbed the closest thing to him, which was a metal pipe, and ran towards Aki, hitting him with it, unable to stop himself.
Chishiya’s blood was boiling, he never felt so angered in his entire life. He kept on swining the pipe, hitting a part of Aki’s body every time. His vision was red, he couldn’t even hear the screams of his victim. What brought him back was Aguni taking off the metal pipe off of his hands. Chishiya’s face was unrecognizable, it was full of hatred, sadness, anger and disgust. Aguni never saw such expression on the male’s face before, he always looked so calm and preserved.
Something caught Chishiya off guard when he looked at Aguni. His eyes were red, as if he was holding himself back not to cry, that’s when he remembered y/n. He turned around to see An trying to stop the bleeding from y/n’s wound, but the blood was coming out and went through all of the amount of cloth that was put on it.
The blonde male rushed towards y/n’s side caressed her face while shaking his head. Tears fell on the girl’s cheek while Chishiya was telling y/n to stay with him. He soon looked at An and she was trying everything she could, all of the sudden, a small and tired voice caught his attention.
“S...shuntaro...? Ri-chan..?”
The blonde male whipped his head to look at y/n. She was smiling. Why was she smiling? She was dying, but she was still smiling. Chishiya tried to understand her, but couldn’t.
“S-spending my... last moments.. with the ones I love.. Shun... taro... I’m sorry... but pro..mise me... you’ll live, okay?”
“W..why are you saying sorry.. No. We both survive okay? Look... An... An will take care of you okay?”
Y/n turned weakly looked over the forsenic, who was doing her best to keep the petite girl alive. They made an eye contact, y/n let out a pained sigh while An shook her head. Y/n was trying to stay strong until the very end.
“Ri..chan... Thank you for everything... Take care... Big sis...”
At this point, An was crying too and shouted for other people to come help them. Y/n placed her bloodied hand on Chishiya’s cheek, wiping his tears away, he held her hand as she caressed him. She was so warm, he never knew she was this warm before. He didn’t wanted her to leave.
Just not yet.
“No.. No, you can’t leave.. Hang on okay y/n..? Help is... help is on the way.”
Y/n shook her head and let all of her tears fall, managing to give Chishiya one final smile.
“Shuntaro... I love you.”
At her words, y/n’s eyes closed and her hand went limp, landing on her body. When the other arrived, all of the executives looked at the scene before them. They were too late. An was crying, still holding on her little sister dead body, telling her to wake up and not to leave her. Chishiya sat there unable to move or say anything.
A pang of guilt hit two executives in particular and they slightly looked at each other and sighed, tears slowly coming in their vision. Aguni was behind them and his fist turned white, knowing y/n was the most important person in the Beach. She was the only one who kept Hatter in the sane side.
Niragi pushed the people aside and dropped his rifle, analyzing the dead girl’s feature. Y/n died with a smile on her face.
“She looks so peaceful.”
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Chishiya woke up at the sound of the bell, indicating to gather in the lobby and group up, since the games were about to start. He felt something wet on his side and he looked at his pillow, it was wet. He touched his face and he shook his head, laying on his bed once again.
He cried. He was crying.
He looked at the ceiling and smiled sadly, clutching on his chest at the amount of pain he felt. The memory of her smiling to him was engraved in his mind and he wasn’t going to let it go.
“I never had the chance to tell you that I loved you too... I’m sorry.. I only now realized it..”
He stood up, wiping the tears off of his face, putting his shoes on and went to the lobby. He put his hood on and tucked his hands in the pockets, he analyzed everyone and he nodded to himself.
‘I will keep my promise.’
872 notes · View notes
chenziee · 3 years
Text
Romance Dawn for the East Blue
Inspired by @feriowind‘s blessed tweet about Yamato winding up on Dawn Island :)
Enjoy 4k words of the 4 brothers driving everyone  crazy :D
[Read on AO3 or below the cut]
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Slowly blinking awake, Yamato struggled to remember why he was lying on the beach of some strange island, the smell of sea salt and trash mixing in the air into something almost worse than the confines of his prison of Onigashima. Almost. It was still freedom after all, and Yamato would gladly take this disgusting smell over his father threatening to place bombs on his wrists.
Looking around groggily, his eyes finally fell on the sad, wooden remains of a small boat, a boat that Yamato had been using to sail this unfamiliar sea during the past weeks. And he finally remembered the terrible events that had led him to this island.
 Yes, it was a dark, stormy night, the likes of which Yamato had never seen even in the unpredictable New World, and definitely not since his escape in the peaceful and calm East Blue. He had fought to keep his boat from capsizing, fighting against the strong winds and ocean currents all by himself for hours… but then suddenly, a Neptunian so large it could only have come from the Calm Belt appeared. Yamato had managed to fight it off but unfortunately, his boat suffered too much damage from the power of his Thunder Bagua. He was then forced to swim to the nearest shore with the last bits of strength he had left—
"I saw the Lord of the Coast attack the fishing boat this person was sleeping in. It was really funny, when they woke up, they screamed so loud I think even the people in Fuusha heard. And then they fell in the water while trying to stand up. But the idiot apparently can't swim so I had to go fish them out."
Yamato froze in place at the boyish voice who was retelling his heroic battle so rudely. Wasn't he allowed to at least pretend?  
Another boy, this one sounding even younger, started snickering then. "I like this person, Sabo! They’re so funny!"
"Luffy, you're the last one who should be laughing here," a third voice sighed. "Anchor boy." Yamato could almost hear the cheeky smirk on his face as he teased this 'Luffy'.
“Don’t call me that!” the youngest one cried, sounding like he was about to fight the other boy.
“Ace, don’t provoke him,” the first boy chided. “You’ll wake the idiot with your fighting.”
That was it.
“Will you stop calling me an idiot?!” Yamato shouted as he sprung up to a sitting position, an embarrassed blush on his face.
They all paused at the sudden movement, blinking up at him in shock. Yamato glowered at them one by one, taking note of how tiny these kids were—the blond and the freckled one looked no older than 12, while the other could be maybe 8. The blond was the only one dripping in water, just as much as Yamato himself was, and Yamato could only assume this was Sabo, the one who had pulled him out of the water. That would make Freckles ‘Ace’, and the youngest one ‘Luffy’.
Yamato had to wonder, though, how Sabo was able to save him all by himself. Yamato was 16 years old, a lot older than however old these boys were, and he was Kaido’s son—meaning he was already much taller than some adults. Although, he supposed he had seen stranger things and people a lot stronger than a human their size should have been. An image of Oden during his execution came to mind immediately but Yamato quickly chased the memory away.
“Oh look, the idiot’s awake,” Ace said lazily, looking thoroughly unimpressed by Yamato’s glare and simply returning it with one of his own.
Luffy, on the other hand, grinned brightly, hopping over to Yamato to stare up at him with stars in his eyes. “Are those horns? Real ones?”
Blinking, Yamato’s hand automatically reached up to touch one of his horns. “Yeah?” he replied slowly, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Was it that weird to people not from the Grand Line to see someone with features like this?
“That’s so cool! Join my pirate crew!” His grin only widened with his request—or demand.
Yamato tilted his head to the side. “You have a pirate crew?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Well, not yet,” Luffy said, a small pout appearing on his lips. “But eventually, I will be the Pirate King so of course I will have one!” he announced looking so proud and sure of himself and Yamato felt his lips twitch upward.
“Sure, King, I’ll tag along with you,” he laughed, seeing no harm in indulging the adorable kid. And who knew? Maybe he really would end up sailing with him. After all, in 12 years, the Nine Red Scabbards would come back to Wano and Yamato needed to be back there by then. He needed to help open the country.
And who was to say he couldn’t bring the Pirate King with him?
Sabo clicked his tongue then, walking up to Luffy and ruffling his hair. “Stop that, you don’t even know this person’s name.”
“Oh right,” Yamato said, hitting t he palm of his hand with his fist in sudden realization. “Sorry. I’m Kozuki Oden. You can also call me Yamato. Son of Kaido. Thanks for helping me.”
----------
“Ace! Luffy! What’s the meaning of this?!”
Yamato groaned; always a wonderful way to wake up. “Are you drunk again, you bull-gorilla? Go away it’s too early for this,” he shouted back, not even bothering to open his eyes.
There was a moment of silence until someone stomped over to stand right above Yamato’s head. “What did you just call me, you brat?”
Finally, Yamato blinked up at the person with long ginger hair, a cigarette between their lips, and looking decidedly female. He closed his eyes again, mumbling, “Oh you’re not my father. Whatever then.” As soon as he was done, he pulled his blanket over his head to try and get some more peace and quiet.
It might not have been his father but it still was too early for this.
“Dadan, shut up,” some one whined from somewhere around halfway down Yamato’s body.
“Yeah, what’s the problem?” another person joined in, their voice coming from Yamato’s other side.
Oh right. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy had brought him back to their place last night; this had to be the nasty old hag they mentioned. Definitely seemed like one.
“First Garp drops you two on me, then you bring in more and more kids with you? What do you expect me to do, this isn’t a daycare!” It sounded like the woman was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
Finally, Sabo spoke up, sounding about as sleepy as Yamato felt, “Dadan, this is our brother, Yamao. Yamao, Dadan.” With that, he flopped back down, his head coming to rest against Yamato’s thigh.
“I’m not a pillow, you three!” Yamato snapped upon the realization of how the boys were laying with their limbs thrown all over the place, Yamato’s own body included. “And it’s Ya-ma-to,” he added with a sigh, already giving giving up on convincing them to not use Luffy’s nickname.
“Where the hell did you manage to pick up another brother,” Dadan complained and Yamato was starting to feel a little sorry for her. He had to admit that dealing with these three was like fighting a hurricane and it hasn’t even been 24 hours since he met them. At least now he was there, a responsible teenager to keep them in check. She should really be grateful he happened to… choose this island to land on.
“Alright, kid. I don’t care who you are you where you came from—” the woman paused, folding her arms over her chest as she stared down and Yamato— “but I will not feed you. One bowl of rice per day is all I can guarantee you.”
Yamato laughed, “That’s not necessary. Oden could do it, I would be a disgrace if I couldn’t take care of myself and my brothers, too.”
Dadan stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, before she threw he hands up in frustration. As she walked away, Yamato could hear her mumbling to herself about stupid brats who couldn’t be phased by anything and how she was going to ‘let Garp have it’ the next time he ‘bothered to show his sorry ass’ there.
Yamato simply shrugged and went back to sleep.
----------
Life on Dawn Island turned out to be surprisingly easy and, even more surprisingly, fun. It didn’t take Yamato long to get to know the forest, the mountain, and the Grey Terminal beyond it, running around the place with his little brothers like he was born there with them.
“Yamao, where are you going, that’s the opposite direction!” Sabo called after him in exasperation, pointing the right way.  
A few days after his arrival, he went to retrieve his kanabo from the waters just off the shore. Ace had looked at him, asking why he was so desperate if it was the same weapon the father he so hated used and Yamato couldn’t admit he had a point but… he simply didn’t feel right without it. It was his weapon as well now, and the bull-gorilla wouldn’t take that away from him.
It took him three hours of diving but the happiness and rightness of his kanabo next to him was well worth the effort.
“What are you two anchors doing?” Ace shouted from where he was in the water and towards the two at the beach, looking incredibly annoyed.  
Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance before turning back to Ace and replying in unison, “Building a pirate ship from sand.”  
Just then, Sabo’s head popped out of the water next to Ace. “I need a break,” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath after being underwater for so long.  
“This club of yours better be made from gold, Yamao, or so help me,” Ace grumbled before leaving Sabo to rest and diving in instead.  
Once he had his kanabo in hand, it became incredibly easy to hunt even the most ferocious beasts around, allowing Yamato enough room to stay back and direct the young brothers, giving them pointers and helping them with their hunting techniques. Usually, he simply watched, letting the boys do most of the hunt, even if it meant the prey got away sometimes. After all, making mistakes and losing was a good way to get stronger. So he let them do their own thing while making sure they were okay, and only jumping in when necessary.
“Okay, here’s the plan. We go around the river, then we split up. Me and Luffy will go up while you and Ace follow the riverbed. It’s risky, but on my signal, you will catch its attention and keep it distracted. Then me and Luffy jump down at its head. Hopefully that will at least knock it out so you and Ace can then come help us finish it. And Yamao—” Sabo paused, giving Yamato a hard, subtly threatening look— “if you run ahead screaming and scare it off again, we’re having you for dinner.” 
Yamato could only gulp and nod obediently.  
He even managed to impress the local Madonna, the cute pub owner Makino. The first time she had come to visit after Yamato had arrived, she immediately dropped all the food, alcohol, and children’s clothes that she had brought, and ran straight to him. She gave him all of her attention the rest of her stay. And even though Yamato wasn’t interested, he had to admit that being fawned over, and especially the jealous stares all the bandits were giving him, felt great.
“Oh my,” Makino muttered when she noticed Yamato. “Luffy did say Yamao was a little taller than him but…” she trailed off, her expression turning troubled.  
“You don’t have any clothes big enough for him, do you?” Dogra asked, munching on one of the cones Makino had brought.  
The young woman shook her head, sighing, “I think I’ll have to make them all from scratch. Yamao, can you come here? I need to take some measurements.” 
"Yamao, you're blushing more than Ace did!" Luffy pointed out immediately, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.  
Yamato made sure his hand was coated in haki when he hit the boy over the head.  
Over all, he had to say he much prefered the life of a cool big brother over being a pirate crew’s' ‘young master’. It was a lot more fun, a lot easier to breathe. He never felt more free than he did while laughing and running around the mountain, plotting pranks on their brothers with Ace, or getting grounded— getting thanked by Sabo for running off and beating up the pathetic excuses for pirates who had hurt Luffy and threatened the boys' treasure stash.
Even Dadan's frustrated screaming felt more loving than anything the bull-gorilla of a biological parent had ever shown him. And no, it definitely wasn’t much more embarrassing.
----------
"I don't want to be a marine!" Luffy screamed one morning just as the others were getting ready to head out to work their brand new tree house base.
Both Sabo and Ace froze, turning to stare at each other for a moment with wide eyes.
"Run?" Ace asked in a whisper.
"Run," Sabo nodded seriously before they both turned to look at Yamato.
The teen simply sat there, turning his confused gaze between Ace, Sabo, and the direction from which Luffy's voice came a few seconds earlier. "What's going on?"
Ace and Sabo exchanged a glance once more, seemingly coming to a mutual understanding before Ace answered, "Go see for yourself. Luffy could probably use the help."
Immediately, Yamato was on his feet, heading outside to save his adorable baby brother from whatever monster he was facing. He was slightly suspicious of the high five Ace and Sabo had exchanged, not as sneakily as they probably thought, but as long as Luffy was in trouble, it didn't matter much to him.
As soon as he made it outside the little house, his eyes fell on the two figures fighting just a little bit away from the house. Obviously, one of them was Luffy, who was visibly fuming; growling and snapping his teeth like he was getting ready to literally bite the legs off of his target.
The target in question was a tall, although obviously much shorter than Yamato, and muscular old man clad in a bright red and white aloha shirt, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared Luffy down. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by Luffy’s pistol punches—which admittedly still left much to be desired despite Yamato’s efforts to help him out; it was only a question of time before he managed to find the right bang feeling. The man he was fighting looked vaguely familiar but Yamato couldn’t place that face no matter how much he wrecked his brain.
But it didn’t matter.
“Luffy, are you okay?!” Yamato called in alarm, rushing forward while preparing to swing his kanabo at the stranger.
The both of them turned to look at him then, identical angry expressions on their faces and suddenly, Yamato realized who the man reminded him of. It was more than obvious where Luffy got his personality and expressions. Maybe he should… not attack this person on sight?
Making the decision for him, Luffy huffed upon seeing him approach, raising his hand and making Yamato stop. “Stay back, I’m fine! I can kick gramps’ ass myself!”
“Who’s ass are you gonna kick?” the man snapped, his light punch making Luffy clutch at his head. “You can’t win against the fist of love, Luffy!”
Yamato blinked. That was obviously haki but… fist of love?  
Ignoring Luffy’s complaints, the man gave Yamato an obvious once over. “And who are you? Wait—” he paused, looking like he just remembered something— “you’re Yamao, aren’t you?”
“My name is Ya-ma-to, and I’m Luffy’s big brother,” Yamato replied, not entirely sure why he even bothered to correct anyone on his name at this point. No one ever listened.
“Part of the family already, hm? You have an impressive swing; you’ll make a fine marine.” The grandfather nodded, grinning at Yamato in approval.
Yamato did a double take. “I’m not going to be a marine!” he responded immediately, the horror he felt at the though clear in his voice.
“Exactly! We’re gonna be pirates!” Luffy joined in, fully recovered and launching a new rubbery pistol punch, which went completely ignored.
Gramps puffed up, raising his fist threateningly in front of himself. “Nonsense! All four of you will be the strongest marines the navy’s ever had if I have any say in it!”
“No way!” Luffy and Yamato cried in unison, the both of them jumping at the man in a joint attack.
A second later the both of them were rolling on the ground together, clutching at their heads and trying to recover from yet another fist of love. Seriously, Yamato only just met this guy, why was he getting a fist of love? Or better yet, why did it sound like he was already considered a grandson? He didn’t even know his new grandfather’s name.
He guessed it was simply one more proof of his relation to Luffy. It was exactly the same to when Luffy had decided by himself that Yamato was the big brother now, not even half an hour after meeting him, and just like back then, Yamato was powerless in defying that decision.
Not like he wanted to. He would be lying if he said being considered family so easily, so warmly, so unconditionally didn’t make him happy. But still…
“I’m already a pirate,” he growled. Not to mention marines did nothing but fight Oden and the Pirate King’s crew. Like hell was he becoming one of them.  
Gramps took a deep breath, looking like he was about to explode, but Yamato interrupted him. “The navy wouldn’t want someone with my blood anyway. They’d execute me on the spot,” he said flatly, looking the man straight in the eyes, trying to convey how disgusted by the institution, the world government, the current world he was. Like hell was he participating in that. He’d much rather wait patiently for the one who was going to change it all and support them.  
Neither of them said anything for a moment, neither of them faltering as they stared each other down silently. Until finally, gramps grinned, a smile so similar to Luffy’s that Yamato startled.
“If blood’s the problem, all the more reason you should join,” he announced, the smile never leaving his face even as his eyes turned almost sad.  
Yamato tilted his head to the side as he watched the man slowly look at Luffy before his eyes slid in the direction of the bandits’ house. When Yamato turned to look, he could see Ace turning around and walking away, Sabo quickly following with a worried expression on his face.
Well.
At least Yamato wasn’t the only one who obviously hated his biological family around here.
Deciding to leave Ace in Sabo’s hands, Yamato turned back to the problem at hand but before he could snap at the man, Luffy did so for him, “No. He’s joining my crew!”
“Over my dead body!” gramps roared in response, looking like he was going to go off on a rant.
Yamato, however, wasn’t about to sit around and listen to that. “No, over my dead body. Do you even hear how fucked up it is that you need to join the navy to be safe from getting hunted? Neither of us going there,” he growled, baring his teeth for good measure.
The old man paused, blinking at Yamato once, then twice, before he burst out in laughter, one so loud, so honest, and so contagious that, despite having no idea what was so funny, it made even Yamato want to laugh. All his anger was forgotten as his lips stretched in a grin, shaking his head at the sudden realization of how weird this entire situation was. He barely knew what was even happening but… it wasn’t like Yamato ever really paused to think about things. If it felt right, he’d go with it. If it didn’t, fuck it.  
And this, incredibly, felt right.
It was only a long while later that gramps finally caught his breath enough to speak, “I like you, kid. Are you sure you’re Kaido’s son?”
As if hit by the bull-gorilla’s Thunder Bagua, Yamato stopped laughing, only staring with an open mouth as dread ran through him. “How?” he could only say after a dreadfully long moment of heavy silence. Or maybe it was only a second. But it was too much, and made Yamato feel too on edge. Ready to fight. He didn’t want to even hear the bull-gorilla’s name; definitely didn’t want to hear it in relation to himself.
Gramps looked at him as if asking if he was kidding then, but with his only answer being a glare, he started laughing anew. “Kid, if you don’t want people to know, or the asshole finding you, maybe stop introducing yourself with ‘son of Kaido’ to anyone you meet. You have poor Makino quite worried.”
Oh.
Whoops?
“Yamao, you’re stupid,” Luffy laughed.
The teen huffed, shoving hard at Luffy’s shoulder. “You’re stupid,” he hissed back, making Luffy stick his tongue out at him.
Yamato saw it only fair he do the same in return.
Just then, a dark shadow loomed over the both of them and they slowly looked up, only to see gramps looking down at them with an evil grin on his face, slowly cracking his knuckles. “Whatever you say, I will train you stupid brats into proper marines, yet.”
Yamato finally understood why Ace and Sabo’s immediate reaction was to run, then send Yamato as what he could now only assume being a sacrifice. There was no way even Yamato was going to be a fair match for this man. “Oh fuck,” Yamato cursed, scrambling to his feet to follow Luffy, who who was already hafway down the clearing away after taking the first popped knuckle as his signal to bolt.
“Watch your fucking language in front of your baby brothers!” gramps shouted after him just before something that might have been a pine cone flew past him at an impossible speed.
Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance, identical grins spreading in their lips before they both took a deep breath. “ACE! SABO! HELP!!”
If they were to die today, they’d make sure to take the other two down with them.
----------
Hours later, Yamato lay awake in his bed on the floor of the mountain bandits’ cabin long after his brothers started snoring softly. He was exhausted from the day spent laughing and running away from gramps—or Garp, as he had finally learned earlier that evening once Dadan finally stopped hiding from the man—but as opposed to the others, he didn’t want to sleep.
Not when gramps and Dadan were busy talking on the other side of this thin wall. What had started as the two of them sharing their frustrations and complaints about their kids quickly turned into fondness as they instead told each other stories about the brothers and their antics. Yamoto wasn’t surprised the bandit knew exactly where their secret base was, just as he wasn’t surprised by Garp only pulling out the most embarrassing stories he probably could.
It was a good thing the other three had managed to pass out the second their heads hit their pillows or they’d be trying to fight the old man all over again over it.
Yamato, on the other hand, refused to miss out on a second of this. The adults might not have allowed him to drink with them, claiming Yamato was too young for that—to which he not-so-politely disagreed, but then Garp’s fist disagreed with him—but they couldn’t stop him from listening. Those were his brothers they were talking about and he wanted to hear all about the past ten years of their lives that he had missed.
And if he maybe got a little bit happy every time they brought Yamato up, well… no one had to know that.
“Yamao, I swear if you don’t stop laughing at their shitty stories, I will strangle you with your own hair.”
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