#'I told him I was tired so obviously-' but the feelings and thoughts you associate with certain things aren't really universal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shanastoryteller · 2 years

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#lily james and sirius all trusted peter over remus #do you ever think about that #and what that implies about their relationship - WELL NOW I AM THINKING ABOUT IT I GUESS :sideeye: What do you think WHY they did it that way? Like, I mean, a deeply (?) buried prejudice against 'dark creatures'? Idk I just don't see that at least for Lily...would be really interested to hear your thoughts on that if you'd be willing to expand on that. Thx and take care xx

this ask touches on SEVERAL things i think about all the time so i'm going to use it as an excuse to talk about all of them

i think lily could be just as prejudiced, if not more, as anyone who's grown up in the wizarding world

harry's dislike of slytherin ("anything but slytherin") was solidified by one throwaway comment by hagrid and one unpleasant interaction with draco. these kids are eleven. that's the perfect age to pick up on unbiased bigotry. no critical thinking, all reaction, and bubbling with feelings lacking framework

hermione doesn't care about remus being a werewolf, but then again she's a rights and freedoms activist. she wouldn't, would she? that's not a muggleborn thing, that's a hermione thing

harry doesn't care, but honestly that's because harry - like a lot of abused kids - is incredibly self centered. people who are nice to him and who are safe are good. people who are mean and who could hurt him are bad. it takes him years to develop any type of nuance, because that's how long it takes for him to both grow up and grow out of survival mode. harry doesn't hate werewolves because a werewolf has never insulted his mother or made him uncomfortable. remus is nice to him, remus is safe, remus is a werewolf - therefore being a werewolf can't be bad

lily was best friends with severus snape, who's not a man i associate with a large amount of tolerance. if snape had kept his hatred to creatures rather than muggles, maybe lily wouldn't have cared at all

frankly, i don't think the marauders - any of them - were exactly the nicest of people, and i don't think their ringleader married the nicest of girls

that doesn't make them evil. and frankly a lot of kids grow out of their meanness (the saddest i'm ever able to feel for canon snape is at the idea that james grew out of his meanness at the same rate that snape grew into his)

but damn, did these kids' meanness take things way too far

one of the things that i can't help but roll my eyes at in canon is the idea that snape owes james a life debt. especially since this first comes up in first year when dumbledore is trying to explain snape's actions to harry by saying he protected harry to repay his father - and not the fact that he's a teacher and that's his job, or the obvious truth that dumbledore didn't want to tell harry - that snape looks out for him, inbetween being and asshole and terrible teacher - because his mother was his best friend

frankly, the incident surrounding this casts sirius in such an irredeemable light that the only way i can wrap my head around this occuring anything close to canon without remus cutting sirius out of his life or some serious consequences, and with dumbledore apparently knowing about all of it and not being outright insane, is this:

sirius told snape about the whomping willow because he thought he was a coward

the shrieking shack was rumored to be haunted and everyone avoided it because of the terrible shrieking, which was obviously remus as he transformed. snape was snooping around and sirius was tired of dodging him and so told him about the secret passage. he thinks snape is a coward, so what he thinks is going to happen is that snape gets scared at the screams, backs out of looking further, and is so embarrassed about being a coward that he stops harassing them about all the questions surrounding remus

this has to be it, because the only option is that he was okay with killing another student, ruining his best friend's life if not getting him thrown in azkaban, and likely getting himself expelled. in one version sirius is a kid with bad judgement but no malicious intent, while in the other he's literally a psycopath

obviously this plan doesn't work because snape is a lot of things, but not a coward. realistically this is happening in their sixth year when james is already obsessed with lily and she's likely started to thaw towards him if not dating him. he's heard more about snape from lily than he's been able to pick up in six years of sniping at each other and james knows that there's no way in hell that snape is going to turn away. instead of trying to explain that to sirius, he bolts, and goes to stop snape from finding remus

he's too late, but they both manage to get away unscathed, somehow. the other thing that makes sense to me is that james through himself between snape and remus - not as a form of self sacrifice, but because remus was familiar enough with him, even while he's in his human form and remus is a wolf, to be thrown enough to stop himself from attacking

james was in very little to no danger. if remus had lunged for him, he could have transformed into prongs. snape, on the other hand, could have died

he did not risk his life to save snape. he risked some injury, quickly fixed by pomfrey, if anything. if james hadn't saved snape, sirius would be expelled, remus would be imprisoned or worse, snape would be dead, and lily would never speak to him again

snape is the one with all the power here. i imagine this is when lily has to get involved, because the idea that snape didn't go around telling everyone what happened, that dumbledore would just tell snape to keep quiet about being nearly murdered by another student, makes no sense

lily finds out about remus being a werewolf because he nearly kills her childhood friend. lily has spent years thinking that remus is a cruel, heartless bully, and now she finds out that he's a monster

lily is not on the mauraders' side here

but snape is physically incapable of not biting his nose to spite his face. he reads dark books all the time and he knows exactly how dangerous a werewolf is and why and he knows that it's not his fault, that remus can't help himself, and he snaps at lily. things between them are so broken by now (if this is how she reacts to dark things, how would she react if she knew the truth about him?). he says that if she wasn't an ignorant mudblood then she'd know better than to come to the most base conclusions

getting scolded by snape of all people for being prejudiced cleanses her of her knee jerk fear and shames her for feeling it at all. snape now feels stuck because he can't go back on his words that were mostly bullshit, so he has to commit. when dumbledore hears of everything, snape says that he went exploring in the shack on his own even though it's forbidden and james stopped him, which is why all dumbledore does is tell him to keep remus's secret

whatever the reason, whatever the circumstances, snape does not: go public to get remus expelled/imprisoned/killed or tell the world that sirius attempted to kill him; ever tell another soul what remus is even if he does hint an awful lot when he starts working in his school again (with children, when he's so dangerous, and snape is then proven right)

i think the reason why remus and snape's relationship is almost cordial is because remus is grateful to him. snape may hate him and hate that he's there and think he's not qualified to be there, but he did not return cruelty with more cruelty 20 some odd years ago and even the werewolf curriculum while he's out is so much less worse than it could be. snape is petty and vicious and rude and very cruel, but sometimes in some circumstances "not as much of an asshole as you could have been" is enough

that said, i don't think lily, james, and sirius's feelings for remus were about prejudice

i think james and sirius have known each other the longest - both purebloods if in different circles - and peter's known them only slightly less. i think of the pettigrews as a formerly rich if not prestigious family that's fallen on hard times - perhaps drained by the war

remus they meet at hogwarts and they love him and trust him and the very first thing he does is lie to them. it's not personal. they understand why, when they find out, but now they know what remus acts like when he's lying

war is hard

sirius says no because he's the obvious choice, but also because he's still fighting on the frontlines, likely working to turn moderates from dark families because he's the best one for that, because despite his break from his family he still knows that crowd, still grew up with them

remus is working to do the same thing with the werewolves, just like we see him doing with the second war

i think peter is a spy. he's supposed to use his animagus form to spy on death eater meetings, which is how he gets caught and how he gets turned

harry is an accident

lily and james are fighting on the frontlines of this war. they're young and everything's going to hell and they have work to do - now is not the time for a child. but lily gets pregnant, which is bad enough, but then they find out that Voldemort is targeting their child specifically they make the very hard decision to place their family over the war

they hide

but sirius, remus, and peter can't hide. they still have work to do. more work, even, now that lily and james can't leave their home

i don't think sirius and remus ever intended to have children. whether they're together or apart, the reasoning is the same. a werewolf raising a child is under such intense scrutiny. any child of sirius's would be hounded by the black family, and frankly i think sirius in particular had a lot of growing up to do even then

peter, i think, might have planned to have children. he spends twelve years not only as a rat, but a child's pet rat. children are rough and loud. i can only assume that he must have liked children to settle there, liked them enough to find being their pet a comfort rather than a trial

but what they all decide long before harry is even thought of is that they'll raise their kids together

harry is lily and james's son but he's all their kid. sirius is his official godfather but the mauraders understand it's a title they all share

i think both sirius and remus and even peter didn't want war to touch the potters now that they moved away from it. i think they all sunk into the idea that if they could only keep this one little part of their family safe, maybe it would be worth all the devastation

they started lying

not maliciously. not meanly. but they were trying to hide their stress and horror and fear not only from the potters, but from each other

they all know what remus looks like when he's lying, when he's lying about something huge, when he's doing it all the time

but remus knows what sirius is like when he's lying too. so does james, but since sirius isn't suspicious of him, so he confides in him, and james has no reason to disbelieve him

remus doesn't confide in them. he's trying to be strong for them. he's trying to be a decent soldier and a good uncle and a good friend and he's cracking but he can't crack. his family is depending on him

they know there's a spy. it has to be one of them

remus knows sirius is lying. sirius knows remus is lying. they suspect each other, and the potters reluctantly start to suspect remus too - they have seen this behavior before, after all

as for peter?

he's under so much pressure, and he's so nervous and jumpy all the time. he's not hiding anything

peter's not lying to them

#asks #anon #harry potter #holy fuck this is long #why did i do this

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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My Best Friend (Part 28)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: fluff, kissing, mention of rape]

[description: Aemond has his own club and often does business at the home of one of his business associates. There he often meets his younger sister, with whom he develops a deeper relationship through shared secrets. This is slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond decided he couldn't stay for dinner. Their morning family conversation had completely worn him out. Y/N obviously understood and said they would go whenever he wanted. He said goodbye to his sister and mother. He hesitated as his father reached out to him, wanting to hug him. It must have been a rare sight, apparently, because their mother was touched. Aemond embraced him briefly and stiffly. He and Aegon nodded to each other, but said nothing.

Y/N and Aemond got into his car, fastening their seatbelts. Aemond sighed softly, closed his eye, and rested the back of his head against the armrest. He looked like he needed a few minutes to cool down from overstimulation. Y/N was silent for a moment, but then spoke up.

“I know you wanted to tell me about this accident yourself, at the right time. Or that you didn't want to tell me about it at all. It was your right and your brother behaved terribly." She said calmly. She wanted him to know that she understood him and that she thought he had every right to be angry, frustrated, and tired. Aemond sighed softly at her words.

"Maybe that was better." He said more to himself than to her, staring blankly ahead. Y/N swallowed softly. "Do you want me to do this?" He asked suddenly, the tone of his voice changing to a more businesslike one. Y/N blinked in surprise, not understanding what he meant.

"To do what?" She asked for clarification.

"Go to therapy."

Y/N pursed her lips, feeling she had to choose her words very carefully. Deep down, she believed that therapy with good specialist would be a godsend for him, help in dealing with demons. But she knew how hard it was for him to admit to himself that he had problems, and that he needed help. She didn't want her answer to discourage him, to make him think she thought him weak. They sat in silence for a while, then Y/N spoke up.

“It's not about what I want, it's about what you want. What I want is for you to stop having nightmares. You can talk to a therapist and impartial about everything that happened to you. Not for that person to judge you, give you medication, or solve your problems for you - that's not how it works. Just so you can properly analyze it all and work through it.” She said in one breath, her heart pounding like crazy. After a moment, she added. “If you don't like it after your first visit and don't want to continue, nothing will happen. Sometimes the most important thing is to just try. I want you to know that I will never force you to do anything."

There was silence in the car. Aemond stared ahead blankly, Y/N could see that he was thinking very hard and fighting with himself. After a moment he looked at her.

"I'll try. For you."

***

Aemond called his father after they arrived at his apartment and told him that he would see the therapist, at least for one visit. The thought of it made his stomach clench, but he felt he owed it to her. Because of him and his past, Y/N constantly suffered and was ashamed of him.

A few months ago, before he started dating her, he would have never agreed to tell a stranger about his problems. Now, however, he felt he had something to lose. That if he decides to do it only at the age of 60, like his father, it may be too late.

He felt on the one hand that it was the right decision, and on the other that it was humiliating for him. He asked his father to set him up as soon as possible because he wanted to get it over with. He thought that maybe one meeting would be enough to prove to Y/N that he was serious about her and his father, that he cared about his family, and he wouldn't have to go on like this any longer. He sighed when his father told him that the therapist could see him even the next day.

As planned, he spent the whole day with Y/N. He drove her to her class and then brought her back. They made dinner together, talked about trifles and her day. Aemond knew she must have seen how scatterbrained and tense he was. She would come up to him once in a while, kiss his cheeks, shoulders, hands, looking at him tenderly, and he would snuggle up to her, experiencing a moment of comfort. But as soon as she let him go, a veil of terror fell over him again, as if he was going to be beheaded tomorrow.

He couldn't sleep that night. He knew that it made Y/N wake up too. She touched him every time he turned around, her hand found his hair again and stroked him steadily, trying to calm his nerves. It was only thanks to her and her embrace that he was able to sleep at least a few hours.

The next morning, he asked her to come with him. He wanted her to wait for him outside. Y/N agreed immediately and beamed, his proposal flattering her greatly. He felt that he couldn't go there alone, that her presence would keep him from running away at the last moment and changing his mind. He didn't want to let her down, but he couldn't swallow anything from his anxiety. Y/N's heart sank at the sight, but his determination to try it made her very happy and filled her with great hope.

They left 20 minutes before the visit. The therapist's office that his father spoke of was in an office building on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by vegetation and parks. Y/N proposed that instead of sitting in the car, she would wait outside and take a walk, and closer to the end of the visit, she would wait for him outside the building. Aemond just nodded, didn't even say goodbye. He was completely in his thoughts.

He entered the office building and headed for the elevator, selecting the appropriate floor. He made his way down the hall following the markings on the wall and finally came to a door marked "Dr. Andrew Reed”. He exhaled through his nose, not believing what he was doing. He felt that his jaw and throat were completely clenched. His mind screamed for him to run. However, before he could do anything, the door opened and a smiling man in his fifties stood there. He was smartly dressed, his beard and graying hair neat and tidy.

"Mr. Aemond? Please, come inside." He said, his voice low and calm, gesturing with his hand for him to come in. Aemond's legs felt like jelly, but his face was stone. He walked slowly to the couch and sat on it. Dr. Reed sat across from him in his chair. There was silence for a moment.

"Tell me what brings you here." He began, his voice soft and encouraging. Aemond rolled his eye at the biased question. He didn't know how to answer.

“What probably brings all your patients. My problems." He said, without looking at him, only out the window, at the spreading park. He wondered if Y/N was just walking there. Dr. Reed chuckled under his breath.

"What are these problems?" He asked, unfazed by his tone and demeanor. Aemond was silent for another moment. He thought it was all a waste of time and money. However, he decided that since he was here, he would try to make him feel that he had done everything he could.

"I have nightmares." He replied curtly and evasively.

"What are you dreaming about?" The doctor asked encouragingly. Aemond unconsciously played with his fingers, bent over, sitting with his legs apart, still looking to the side. He pursed his lips at the thought of having to force it out, especially in front of a strange man. For some reason, he had a feeling that he would react like his father.

"I dream that I am strangling a woman." He said finally. The doctor turned his head.

“There is nothing wrong with dreams as long as they do not reflect our true intentions. Is there a woman you really want to strangle?" A momentary silence answered him. Aemond was surprised at how quickly he figured it out.

"Yes." He replied quietly.

"Why do you want to strangle her?" The doctor continued, his tone still encouraging, not a trace of accusation or uncertainty. Aemond felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest. His lower lip trembled.

"Because she tried to rape me." He said finally. A moment of silence answered him.

"Tell me more about it." Said Dr. Reed. Aemond rolled over uneasily.

"What do you want to know?" He asked ironically. "Any details of the act itself?"

Dr. Reed was not put off by his words.

“Tell me about what you think is important about this event. What you felt then.” He said, and Aemond shivered. No one had ever asked him about that.

"I don't know." He answered honestly. "I couldn't move or say anything. Before she could really do anything, I threw her off me with such force that I thought I had killed her."

Dr. Reed stared at him intently.

"In your dreams, have the women you are strangling also tried to molest you before?" He asked calmly. Aemond's jaw tightened. He felt as if the man was tearing him apart, and it terrified him, that he read him like an open book.

"Yes."

Only now did Aemond dare look at him. The doctor nodded understandingly, as if it was obvious.

"During sexual contact with women, do you strangle them as well?" He asked, looking at him with understanding. Aemond looked down, embarrassed. He swallowed loudly.

"I was doing it. Up to a point." He answered truthfully. The doctor was intrigued, and he adjusted himself in his seat.

"What changed?" He asked, resting his chin on his hand. Aemond blinked.

“I met someone. I fell in love with my friend's little sister." He said and felt his throat tighten. "Before her, I only dated women much older than me." He admitted shamefully, looking away as if admitting something disgusting. The therapist looked at him curiously.

"Was the woman who tried to take advantage of you also much older than you?" He asked calmly. Aemond pursed his lips, ashamed and embarrassed that he had discovered the pattern so easily.

"Yes." He replied after a moment. The doctor nodded as if everything was coming together for him.

"Your girlfriend doesn't remind you of the woman who tried to take advantage of you, so you don't feel the need to show her such aggressive forms of domination. It is clear." He said finally. “As you are probably aware, we often fall into the trap of our own trauma, unable to free ourselves from it, so we experience it all over again, only with other people. That's why daughters of alcoholics bond with men who are prone to alcohol abuse without even knowing it, and men who had aggressive fathers are more likely to be aggressive in the future."

"So you think it's only natural that I get aroused from strangling women?" Aemond asked impatiently.

“For some, it's just a fetish, all you need is security passwords, the consent of the other person and you can live a normal life with it. In your case, however, it was not dictated by the fetish itself, but by the desire to show who has real control over the situation. You were giving these women a subconscious signal that if they tried to force you to do something against your will, you were prone to extreme violence." He said, tilting his head.

Aemond swallowed hard as he looked at him. He was terrified that he was right. He clenched his hands on his knees.

"The girl you're with. Tell me about her." He said crossing his legs. Aemond glanced at him, surprised. He cleared his throat and looked back at the window, thoughtful. He wondered how to describe her.

“She is empathetic and assertive at the same time. She has a lot of understanding, but she also sets clear boundaries. She never pestered me or forced me to do anything. She always considered my opinion and respected my requests. She once told me that she always wanted me to be her friend. That she values me very much. I remember being touched by it." He said and felt his throat tighten, felt the emotion he suppressed. "She's my best friend."

Dr. Reed smiled at those words and nodded in understanding.

"She sounds like a great girl. You said you strangled women up to a point. Are your close-ups no longer about sadistic gestures on your part?” He asked, looking at him expectantly. Aemond shook his head quickly.

"No. I wouldn't forgive myself for that." He spoke softly, more to himself than to him.

"Do you feel the lack of it? The discomfort of not being able to treat her like other women, the lack of stimuli that previously made you aroused?” The doctor asked, but Aemond shook his head quickly again.

"No. It's different with her. More tenderly. I can’t explain that." He said, looking out the window again, deep in his thoughts. "Just the smell of her hair is enough to drive me crazy."

***

Y/N was sitting on a park bench right in front of the entrance to the office building where they had made their appointment. She shuffled her feet, restless. She couldn't see Aemond anywhere and hoped he hadn't run away, but she was terribly afraid for him. She knew how hard it was for him and she stressed with him. She was afraid he would come out angry and discouraged.

She jumped when she saw him leave the building. She stood up and waved at him, running cheerfully towards him. She took his hand and he bent down to kiss her lips tenderly. She could feel his hands trembling, but his face showed no nervousness.

"Everything's all right?" She asked softly, intertwining their fingers together. Aemond bent down wordlessly, burying his nose in her hair.

"I haven't felt this good in a long time."

_____

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cringengl · 7 months

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Hey!! It's the byler music fairy!! What are the songs you most associate with byler, Will, and/or Mike, and why??

(sorry for the lack of emojis... your askbox wouldn't let me add them D:)

aaaaahhhhh I have a couple of these haha

for byler, my fave songs for them i have is fly out west by yot club, which is literally s4 byler. like mike literally flies out west at the start of s4?? lmao. there's also lyrics like

Well, tell me, do you know?

You're all I dream about

Take it from me, I'm too dumb to recognize your doubt

Well, I don't wanna go

I'm in too far to leave

Tell me how you live so easily, young and naive

and

Talk bad, who's that?

Walk back to your place

I think you fake that smile that's on your face

which could honestly apply to both will and mike, one being all the other dreams about and being jealous about how naive they are, and also both of them faking their smiles, mike because of his failing relationship with el and will pretending to be ok with it.

ok so for the second one is true blue by boygenius, and although the title screams will as the chorus says that the love is 'true blue', which is obviously mike's colour, there's a bunch of lyrics that connect to both of them.

lyrics from mike's pov:

You can't help but become the sun - will has a bunch of light symbolism throughout the series, especially in the last ep where the light shines directly onto will from mike's pov

When you moved to Chicago, you were spinning out

When you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out

When you called me from the train, water freezing in your eyes

You were happy and I wasn't surprised

i can totally see mike thinking that will was happier and trying new things in lenora without him, especially after the lies el told mike in her letters and then mike being a little upset about it.

this part is from will's pov:

Now you're moving in, breaking a sweat on your upper lip

And getting pissed about humidity and the leaky faucet- digging the grave for unnamed hero agent guy haha and creating el's mind fight bath

You already hurt my feelings three times

In the way only you could- it's not my fault you don't like girls, the lack of letters/calls when will was in lenora, and the rink-o-mania fight

You've never done me wrong

Except for that one time that we don't talk about

Because it doesn't matter anymore

Who won the fight?

I don't know, we're not keeping score

these lyrics also have major it's not my fault you don't like girls vibes.

and then finally from both of their povs:

But it feels good to be known so well

I can't hide from you like I hide from myself

I remember who I am when I'm with you

Your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

Ooh-ooh

this is major painting scene vibes, with both will and mike feeling understood by the other, and not hiding from eachother.

finally, to finish this super long post off, here's a song that is soooo mike wheeler coded that literally every lyric can be applied, forever dumb, by surf curse. it's all mike's pov

I would run away from you, if I could

Never really wanted to, but I guess I should run - the first two lines obviously correlate to will and how mike feels about him leading to him wanting to run from him

I would fall in love with you, but I can't

It's too hard, maybe we'll just pretend- the next two lines are about his relationship with el lmao

But it's hard when I don't know what to do

I'm angry and I'm tired and confused

I got so many thoughts stuck in my head

And none of them make much sense- big big big mike vibes

I said I would follow you, but I lied

Don't be mad

Well, at least I tried- 'follow you' is both related to crazy together as well as mike's relationship with el

I never had a spot for you in my life

Which was true

Till I heard you cry- mike meeting el for the first time and taking her in or byler meeting at the swingset

And your tears dripped down your face into my eyes- either the van scene or el telling mike that he never said i love you

I'm sorry and I hate myself this time

Cause I got so many thoughts stuck in my head

And none of them

Make much sense

anyway, tysm for the ask!! (this was my reminder to change my anon settings haha)

here are the three songs!!!

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #asks

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soda-boots · 1 year

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Hänsel und Gretel

I went climbing (or more accurately bouldering) with him yesterday. My tumblr is just my journal at this point, and I’m not mad about that.

It was really fun. I wore my little shorts and my favourite sweater (my death sweater actually) and one of the few scarves I have with me at uni. I don’t really wear scarves actually, but it kept me warm throughout the night.

We walked to the climbing centre, after my show. Obviously me being an expert navigator led the way (sort of). That was so cringe of me to say (more than once), but I’m not really embarrassed. More squirmy reliving it.

The actual bouldering was great. I forgot how tiring and challenging it was. Additionally, I’m so used to bouldering outside and on these concrete rocks at the loop that I didn’t realise how different it felt inside with climbing holds. I hadn’t climbed in a while. It just makes me relive S5 again. That year of outdoor education; I miss outdoor Ed, and my little group there. The nostalgia is kicking in really quickly.

He was a natural at it. He was so good; it was mesmerising. When he did the overhang one, as he climbed up (and also to the side as it is angled) I couldn’t help but notice how muscular his calves were. I’m gushing at the memory now. Him moving up upside down was so spiderman like (I always did like Peter Parker). I wonder if he still reads my tumblr. It’s kind of swayed into me fawning over him sometimes. Which is fine for me to write ( I don’t reread it myself), but I wonder how it makes him feel. To be the object of someone’s desire. Like FKA twigs said in Pendelum -

“How does it feel to have me thinking about you? Wishing my words were enough to consume you”

Probably my favourite lyric from her. The placement of the onus of the crush being on the desired is so genius to me. We often reflect on crushes from our own point of view because it heavily involves us, we are the ‘feeler’ after all, but what about the other person ? Can you tell I like you so much? Do you feel an ooze of longing gushing out of me? Spilling everywhere like oil out a broken amphora. I want you and I want you to know that I want you (you do).

I’m just a little scared that this won’t go anywhere. The thought leaves me desolate. However, we have our funny moments like me falling off the wooden holds to see you taking photos of me or criticising the lack of “dynamicness” of archery. You listening to my show means a lot to me. Even though we haven’t known each other that long you mean a lot to me.

As a short addendum: Hansel and Gretel /Yeti was good. An improvement from last week though not where I want the show to be yet. I need to put in more effort, in spite of that it’s so cheery how chaotic the show feels at times. I hope the excitement and amusement is palpable. After climbing we joined some of the film pub crawl before getting there Ellis did talk about bridges (which was endearing). I asked him about which George the bridge was built (I barely remember the Georges myself). Someone, a Zoe(y), complimented my scarf, so kind of her. She looked great ! And her tag along Cameron looked lovely too. We ended up sitting down at a table and 2 other guys came along (one business and ancient history/archeology I think ). I always wanted to do classics in school. I told him about the thom yorke house and he mentioned his association with Cavern. I’m starting to feel more comfortable talking to him in person.

I should go now. This was invigorating.

edit: I realised I only ever really talk about Ellis physically, probably because it's just easier for me to write. And so much less invasive for me to write. I don't really like writing about how other people exist in relation to me. He's so funny, and not in a like he's a jokester way, but in a we can have banter way. Like I don't feel bad being slightly mean in my humour with him. [Song interjection - Family by Bjork is so harmonious. Those strings and I can't even describe it - celestial ringings? - are so calming for me] In some ways he has a lot of things I desire. He just seems so effortlessly normal, and smart and kind. He can drink beer and doesn't have an unusual reaction to coffee (though feeling faint does kind of moot this point); he lives in a uni house with his friends. Something that still kind of bothers me. When I think about it, in some ways I feel like a failure in that I couldn't cobble together enough friends (or even integrate with people) to get a uni house. I so want to be quintessential sometimes, and it hurts that I'm so violently not at times. In reality, a lot of these things don't bother me most of the time. And I do NOT think me liking Ellis stems from some psychological urge for normalcy (I enjoy many normal things and above average things in my life and it would be disingenuous to imply I don't. Nonetheless, often I have this picture of how things should go and it does feel debilitating when everything isn't picturesque), but just that we get along and have similar interests. I do like he likes art, and reads (the fact that I even have to put that as an attractive quality). He's sporty/athletic. He has things that he's passionate about and willing to talk about. He seems to be interested in what I have to say too. There's something so refreshing about when people feel like they care about what you say. Sometimes I feel quite invisible (the whole photo/stalker thing sort of worsens that). I know I'm not. I do see people who greet me back often. I love to feel acknowledged.

Anyway let's stop with all this woe of me bullshit. Let's look at the nice parts of my day. I have people I can talk to about things, and send funny tiktoks and have a nice chat to. I saw the taylor swift film, which I enjoyed. I allow myself to follow my interests passionately. I allow myself the freedom to change my hair, so drastically (it's not that drastic). Maybe reinvention isn't the solution, but it's a calming one. Vulnicura is a bop and a half. Interesting, I've been coming back to it so much all year.

Edit: I just seem to lack contentment. I have so much to be happy about. And I am

#journal #university #climbing

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fettuccin-e · 2 years

Text

A Friend in Need

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Description: You’ve been trying to get over Matt Murdock after years of pining after him by sleeping with what seems like every eligible man in Hell’s Kitchen. Your complete infatuation, however, just seems to be getting worse when you feel completely unsatisfied after every one-night stand. Unbeknownst to you, Matt hears you tell Karen about your predicament. (Warnings: strong language, implied smut, mentions of masturbation and one-night stands)

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: My first (published) fic!! I’m definitely new at this, and there’s plenty of stuff to improve upon, but I’m just happy to be writing. I am also a slut for tortured, pretty men, so obviously I had to write for Matty.

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“I don’t know Karen,” you say, sipping your drink, trying not to laugh at the enthusiasm of the gorgeous blonde across from you. “I was just thinking that I’d go home alone tonight.”

Karen giggles, already tipsy from the two glasses of wine she’s had since getting to Josie’s. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

You have to try not to grimace. “I think my ‘sense of adventure’ flew the coop four guys ago, Kare.”

You see her smile falter. “What do you mean? I mean, aren’t you still trying to chase away that, uh, issue, with Matt? If you can even call it that,” she scoffs, before continuing, her smile returning to her face. “Wait, wait. Are you going to confess? Cause you should, I mean, it’s fairly obvious that he’s just as gone on you as you are on him, I mean—“

“No!” You’re quick to cut her off. “No Kare, you know I can’t, okay? Because as much as you say that he feels the same way, I can’t, I can’t take that chance. We’ve been friends for so long, you know? And to lose that… I think it would kill me.”

You glance up at her, hating her pitiful expression. “But it’s fine, Karen, really. I’m happy being his friend.”

But you weren’t happy. Not really. Not when Matt was flashing his beautiful smile at a gorgeous woman every other night, brushing his hand up her arm, keeping her under his spell. Not when he meets you after work the next day, radiating that smug, satisfied post-sex energy he always seems to radiate after a one-night stand. Not when he smiles at you after making a terrible joke, and you just want to kiss it off of him, but knowing you can’t.

Being in love with Matthew Murdock is fucking exhausting.

It’s been years since you figured out that your infatuation with him was much more than a crush. That you wanted more, so much more, than the friendship you, he and Foggy had all cultivated at Columbia. But you knew that he couldn’t feel the same. Not when he had beautiful women falling at his feet at every turn. Not when he was fighting crime night after night. You knew that he only wanted a friend out of your relationship, and no matter how exhausting it may be, you knew you had to find some way to be content with that.

Karen rips you out of your thoughts once again, “so what happened to that sense of adventure? To, quote unquote, ‘fuck your infatuation out of your system’?”

Right, that. Months ago, you had decided to try to find something different. You were tired of the sexual frustration everyday coming home from work, and by association, Matt. So, you told Karen that you were going to try to get it out of your system. Drown yourself in so much sex that you couldn’t bear to think of Matty like that anymore. Karen tried to talk you out of it, saying that it wouldn’t make things better, but you had made up your mind.

Only, it didn’t work. Made things worse, actually. You don’t know how, but it was like every man that you thought was vaguely hot had absolutely no idea what to do in bed. No clue. And the fact that you got home every night, just to finish the job with your own hand, made the issue infinitely worse. Your thoughts of Matt were only getting more vivid, not disappearing underneath memories of different men like you’d hoped. You tell Karen as such.

“At this point, it has to be me, right? Like, why is it so hard to make a girl cum? It’s like, some of them get there eventually, but it’s always… I don’t know… unsatisfactory? Like a half-orgasm or something.” You slump back into your chair. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just too hard to please.”

“No! No you’re not,” Karen says, reaching over to grip your hand. “If you aren’t satisfied, that’s their fault, not yours. Sex is a fifty-fifty exchange, not just one person putting in the effort to get the other person off. And if they’re all getting off, you should be too.” Her cheeks are flushed, brows furrowed in her drunken insistence.

You giggle softly at her enthusiasm. “I guess you’re right, Kare. Maybe I’m not looking at the right guys.”

“I know one guy you could look at,” Karen says, pointedly glancing behind you at the pool table, where Matt and Foggy were playing.

“No, Kare, okay? It’s fine, I’m fine. But, look,” you smile at her reassuringly. “It might just be me and my vibrator for a little while, okay?” You say with a laugh, only to jump when you hear a pool stick drop to the ground behind you with a clatter. You look behind you to see Matt standing over it, cheeks red.

Glancing back to Karen, who has been giggling from your last comment, you pick up your glass, noticing that you drained it between venting to Karen.

“Hey, I’m going to go get another. You want anything?”

Karen shakes her head, and you take one last glance at Matty, who is leaning against the wall while Foggy takes his shot, before heading to the bar.

Ordering your second drink of the night, you take a look around Josie’s, scoping out any men or women who you could maybe consider taking home tonight. Nothing. Nothing except the red-glasses, tight shirt wearing man of your dreams, who, when you look, isn’t at the pool table anymore. Foggy has struck up a conversation with Karen, while Matt is nowhere to be seen.

A tap on your shoulder brings you out of your reverie, causing you to whip around and immediately see a reflection of yourself in red glasses that seem to haunt your very existence.

“Hey Matty,” you manage to choke out, trying to find some semblance of natural speech.

“Hey sweetheart. You already order your drink?” He asks with that low timbre of his, and you can feel your skin practically buzzing.

You nod, then realize your mistake, and murmur out a soft “yes,” just as your bartender slides you your drink. Your hand immediately wraps around the glass, taking a long sip, trying to focus on the burn of the alcohol instead of the burn between your thighs.

“So,” he starts, seeming nonchalant. “You looking to take anyone home with you tonight?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“No, uh,” you clear your throat, “just wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Kind of a change from the past few months, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mutter, trying not to let bitterness creep into your voice. I wouldn’t be wasting my time with all of these people if you weren’t so fucking perfect, you want to say to him, but you force yourself to bite your lip to hold the words back.

Matt grins that gorgeous, heart-stopping smile that you can’t ever seem to look away from, even when it’s not directed toward you. His hand reaches out, brushing your fingers ever so gently, and it feels like lightning is striking up your body, lighting you up from the inside.

“And what brought this change on, huh, sweetheart?” He murmurs.

The butterflies are swarming in your stomach, and Matt is leaning in. In.

And against your better judgment, you don’t back away. Maybe this is it. The moment. Maybe you can tell him how you feel, and maybe, just maybe he feels the same.

You’re so close to him, so, so very close. His lips, beautiful and smiling, are mere centimeters from yours, and all it would take is a tiny, itty-bitty movement forward—

Wait.

You’ve seen this before. You know this. This grin, the touch, the glare of his red glasses against the bar lights. You’ve seen this countless times, in countless bars. With countless beautiful women. Always watching from afar, jealousy swimming in your stomach. This is Matt’s playbook. The routine. The order of events that can get any woman into his bed. And he’s doing it to you.

The butterflies in your stomach have flown up into your throat. You feel sick as you feel his warm breath on your face, smelling of the beer he’s been nursing.

“Matt, what are you doing?” You ask, not daring to lean away.

“And whatever could you mean, pretty girl?” How many other women has he used that line on?

Finally, you bring yourself to pull away, hand trembling as you grab your drink again. “Matt, you’re drunk. I don’t know how much you’ve had, but you’re drunk.”

You watch his brows furrow beneath his glasses. “Sweetheart, this is the second beer I’ve had tonight.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re trying to seduce me?” You laugh nervously, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, but Matt catches your wrist in a gentle grip.

“And what if I am?” And there’s that smile again. That gorgeous, wide, panty-dropping smile.

It takes everything in you to pull away again, to not give into his whims.

“Matty…” you start, but you’re quickly interrupted by Matt, who leans in again, like he’s telling you a secret.

“Look, I know I wasn’t supposed to hear you and Karen earlier, I know that.”

You stop him quickly, panic filling your chest. “How much did you hear?” Please tell me you didn’t hear Karen talking about the ‘Matt issue’, you think.

“Not much, just the end, but it was definitely enough,” Oh thank God. However, your relief doesn’t last long as Matt continues. “Sweetheart, if those guys taking you home weren’t treating you right, you should have just asked me,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you swear you nearly pass out. “I’m always willing to help out a friend in need.”

Friend.

The word repeats itself in your head, over and over again. Friend. Friend. Friend. The knot in your throat grows bigger, threatening to choke you out as you feel familiar pinpricks behind your eyes. You stand quickly from your barstool, trying not to let yourself start to cry, knowing that Matt would smell it.

“I’m not some conquest Matthew,” you say, not bothering to keep the venom from your voice.

You see Matt’s eyebrows raise in surprise as he stands as well. “What? No, I—“

You cut him off. “I’m not going to be some other notch on your bedpost Matt. God, I can’t even believe this. You say we’re friends,” you snarl the word, “but friends don’t act like this. If I needed to get my fucking rocks off or whatever, I am perfectly able to do so, but even then, how dare you? You were really just going to fuck me? Like it’s no big deal? Like we haven’t been friends for years?” Like I haven’t loved you for years, you want to say, but you bite your tongue. “You know who I am Matt, but right now, you’re acting like I’m no better than a stranger.”

You quickly grab your coat, feeling the breaths come out of your throat choked and garbled. Suddenly, you feel a hand wrap around your arm, and it’s like someone has lit a fire on your skin. You look back at Matt, seeing his brow furrowed, but unable to see the pain in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, I—“

Suddenly, the words are pouring out of your throat, unbidden. “And you know what the worst part is?” You hate how your voice cracks. “Is that you have no idea how fucking in love with you I am, Matt.” You try to ignore Matt’s soft gasp, audible even to you. “I have been in love with you since College Algebra and you, with all of your amazing powers and everything, have no idea. And it’s fine, okay? I can take you as a friend. But I can’t, I can’t have you in my bed, touching me like I’ve wanted you to for years, and never get anything more. I think it would kill me Matty, to have you walk away. And you… I thought maybe, just maybe that you would…” you have to cut yourself off, straightening your back to try to gain some semblance of dignity again.

You try to take a deep breath, to stave off anger or tears, you’re not really sure. His hand is still grasping your arm. “Let go of me Matthew. It’s… it’s fine. I know you said that you’re not drunk or whatever, but let’s just say you are, yeah? You’re drunk, I’m drunk, and we’ll forget about all of this in the morning.” You take his hand off your arm. “I’m going to catch a cab home. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You can’t look at him. You can’t. You turn quickly and whip out your phone, not looking up from it as you leave Josie’s.

As soon as the cold winter air bites your skin, you let the tears fall, clutching the fingers that Matt had brushed so lightly, pretending to feel the heat still lingering there.

Meanwhile, Matt tries not to flinch as he hears the bar to Josie’s close. He can still feel her warmth on his palm, aching like the weight in his stomach.

He slumps back onto the barstool, grabbing his beer and chugging it roughly, coughing out a hoarse “fuck” when the bottle is empty. He can hear Foggy and Karen over the roaring of blood in his ears, hears both of them stand up and cross over to him.

“Matt, where’s she going?”

“Home.” Matt answers tensely, wishing the Earth could swallow him whole. Where were Foggy and Karen when he was making an ass of himself?

Foggy reads him like a book. “Matt, what did you do?”

Matt wants to lie, he really does, but your scent continues to linger in the air, your voice ringing in his ears, and suddenly he’s deflating even more, putting his face in his hands.

“I fucked up Fog. I really, really fucked up.”

The next day, you wake up with your head pounding. You wish you could blame it on some kind of hangover, but with the one drink you barely managed to get through the night before, you know alcohol wasn’t the culprit. A short glance at your tear stained pillow reminds you of the hours spent crying over the man you loved until the wee hours of the morning, when you finally passed out, dehydrated and upset.

The day passes by slowly and painfully as you refuse to look at the many text messages left by the man that broke your heart just hours earlier. Maybe a good fuck is all you’re supposed to get from him, you think, sex might be all that will ever come from your years spent pining for him. Wanting him. Loving him so much it hurt.

By the time you arrive home again, you’re ready to break out the whiskey you have stashed in your cabinet. Just to forget. Forget the way he looked at you, the way he touched you so gently.

He didn’t want anything more than a night with you, you try to remind yourself. You’re a body, maybe a friend to him, nothing more.

Your home is dark as you stumble in, ripping your uniform heels off. Your feet ache, your back aches, but no pain in your body could ever compare to the pain in your heart. All day, even after crying for what felt like a lifetime, your heart has felt constantly tight, feeling like a rock you just want to rip out of your body.

As you walk into the kitchen, you immediately feel like something is off. Just a slight wrongness. A presence.

Trusting your gut has gotten you pretty far in your life, so you don’t hesitate to follow it again, grabbing a knife from the block in your kitchen.

You listen carefully, suddenly wishing that you had Matt with you, with his powers. You run your hand up the wall, looking for the light switch.

A voice breaks out of the darkness. “Before you turn on the light, just know it’s me. I’m trying not to scare you.”

Speak of the devil. Literally.

Still, even though Matt is a friend, only a friend, the unhelpful voice in your mind supplies, your breath still rushes out of you in an unrestrained scream of “HOLY SHIT MATT!”

Your hand blindly flicks on the light on instinct, your eyes not daring to look away from the source of Matt’s voice.

As the light illuminates the room, you finally look at the man who broke your heart barely 24 hours earlier. And the man who broke into your house while you were at work, what the fuck?

Matt looks like shit, your brain immediately supplies upon seeing him. Not like the pained and hurt Matt you’ve patched up after a rough patrol. Not like the exhausted Matt you’ve taken to Josie’s after a tough day at Nelson and Murdock. This Matt, he’s gorgeous as usual, he always is, but this Matt looks ripped apart.

He’s wearing an old, worn, Fogwell’s tee with jeans that are just a little big on him, like he was rushing to get dressed and didn’t bother to make sure they fit him properly. His glasses aren’t anywhere to be seen, just his beautiful eyes, staring at you with so much anguish that your poor, overworked heart can’t help to clench in sympathy.

“Matt, what are you—“ you start, but Matt doesn’t let you finish.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly blurts out. His gaze is just off your face, but you can see his eyes filling with tears. “I am so, so,” his voice breaks, “sorry.”

Against your better judgment, you rush forward. You hate seeing Matty cry, even though you’ve only seen it happen a few times before. Your hands reach up, brushing tears away.

“No, no, Matty. You didn’t mean it. I know you didn’t mean it,” you try to console him softly, ignoring the pain in your chest.

“But I did mean it,” Matt says, taking you by surprise. You begin to back away, but Matt grips your wrist gently, keeping you rooted to the spot. Just like the night before. “I meant it, but not like you were thinking.” He takes a deep, rattling breath. “God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you think that I only wanted you for sex. I’m sorry that I let you walk out of Josie’s last night. I’m sorry that I,” he lets out a broken chuckle, “that I broke into your house just to apologize.” You let out a laugh at that comment, until your heart stops as Matt lifts your hand to his mouth, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles.

“But most of all,” he whispers, “I’m sorry that I made you think that I didn’t love you.”

Your soft gasp is almost inaudible, but you know Matt hears it.

“I have loved you for so long, I don’t even remember what it was like to not love you. I have no idea how you could possibly think that I could ever live without you. God, watching you with those men? It killed me, every fucking time you walked out of Josie’s with one of them I died a little inside. Because it should be me. It should have always been me. And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you that I loved you sooner.” The hand that Matt doesn’t have wrapped around your wrist goes up to your cheek, wiping away the tears that you hadn’t even realized were falling down your cheeks.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips so close to yours, you can feel his breath ghosting across your face. “I love you so much, sweetheart. So much that it hurts.”

You can’t take it anymore. His words, his touch, his fucking smell. You lurch forward, crossing that tiny little barrier between the both of you, and press your lips to his.

You hear him suck a breath in through his nose in surprise before he’s kissing you back gingerly, his hands are dropping to your hips, touching them gently, almost afraid.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into you, and break the kiss just barely, trying to speak against his lips. “I love you so much Matty,” you whisper into him, and that move, it seems, is what breaks Matt’s resolve. His hands, no longer afraid, grip into your hips, pressing your bodies closer, closer, as he captures your lips again. You feel his tongue brush your lower lip, and you moan as you open your mouth into the kiss, granting him entrance.

Matt tastes like coffee and sleep and love, and you already know that you’re addicted, that you can’t ever go back. You nearly whine when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours.

“Say it again,” he whispers, and you know immediately what he means.

“I love you,” you smile, your heart nearly bursting with sheer adoration.

“Again,” he says.

“I love you, Matt Murdock.” His wide smile at your words is nearly blinding.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

His hands are gentler now, wrapping around your back reverently, like he’s trying to keep you plastered to him, like you’ll disappear.

“Take me to bed, Matty?” You say, coy, even though you know he won’t be able to resist. You know because you can’t resist him either.

“God, yes.” He breathes, making you laugh. “For forever and ever, sweetheart. Never a one time thing, never,” he says adamantly, trying to drill it into your brain that he’ll never leave.

“Come on, darling,” you say to him, breaking away to lead him to your bedroom. “You have to show me what I’ve been missing. These other guys haven’t been treating me right, you know,” you giggle, parroting his words back at him from just the night before.

He smiles that million-watt smile, and your heart jumps at the fact that it’s just for you.

“Trust me baby,” he murmurs against your ear. “I’ll treat you right for the rest of our fucking lives.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil fluff #matt murdock fluff

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Text

Witchers didn't have daemons, that was a known fact. They were terrifying in their solitude, unfeeling and unaffected. Monsters made to fight monsters, they didn't need part of their soul for that. What the general public didn't know though was that the daemons weren't imprisoned somewhere, nor were they dead. The mages had figured out a way to separate daemon from child and force it into the most unnatural of shapes, another human. It meant two Witchers from a single child and the best part was, neither child nor daemon felt any connection to their counterpart once the process of the trials was complete.

In an effort to make sure full separation was certain and not even a sentimental link remained, daemons and children were separated and trained in different schools. Lambert had arrived at Kaer Morhen, still tripping over unfamiliar human feet and seething at being separated from his human. Over the years he tried to remember his human but, like all Witchers, they were given new names when they got their medallions and Lambert didn't think Luca still went by that name, nor would he be the scrawny kid Lambert remembered him as.

Whenever Lambert met another Witcher, he couldn't help but wonder whether it was his Luca that he was meeting. Though he wanted to believe that there would be a spark some kind of recognition there. He had been a little relieved when he met Letho and there was nothing there between them.

Of course Geralt had to be the first one to find his daemon. The smug bastard had found a bard who told people his daemon was a flea which was just like him; unnoticeable until he causes a nuisance. Most pitied him but Geralt had seen through the charade. He watched the bard without a daemon, curiosity and caution allowed him to permit Jaskier to tag along. The story tumbled out eventually.

"My great grandparents bought me. I was some kind of freak novelty some merchants were selling."

That was all Geralt had needed to hear and he was all but dragging Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in the winter. Nobody had expected Vesemir's face to close off completely.

"I remember you!" Jaskier said in way of greeting. "You were a dick."

"Julian." The reply was terse and tight.

Lambert got a front view seat to seeing Geralt's face flit through more emotions in one second than he usually did in a whole year. The embrace was tight, Geralt's nose buried in Jaskier's hair.

Jealousy trickled through Lambert's veins. For all he knew, his human was already a dead Witcher. There was no link between Witcher and daemon, the trials severed it all completely so when one died, the other didn't even notice, let alone die from it.

"Why isn't he a Witcher?" Eskel asked, eyes glued to the happy reunion.

"Kaer Morhen needed money. Your cohort, the daemons didn't become Witchers. We sold them to the highest bigger."

Lambert didn't expect Eskel to punch Vesemir across the jaw but he was sure as shit glad he saw it. It meant he didn't need to do it on behalf of Geralt and Eskel. For the first time though, Lambert had an optimistic thought.

"It might mean he's living a happy life somewhere. I mean, look at Jaskier. He's had it better than us."

That was a topic that came up repeatedly over the next few weeks. They dreamed up all sorts of fancy lives Eskel's daemon could have lived, the wonders he would have seen. Through it all, Lambert bitterly wished his daemon could have been anything but a Witcher. Alas, Vesemir rapidly disillusioned him from that idea.

"He's become a Witcher, probably dead by now. And if you met him, you'd probably wish he was."

"Is that so?" Lambert drawled, emptying his tankard with a disappointed sigh. He couldn't believe it was empty again.

"You suffered the same shit fate I did. Your human was trained by Cats. Guxart turned into an utter dick."

The words were muttered darkly and Lambert tried not to take it to heart how much hatred Vesemir oozed. It made him all that much more determined to not go the same way as the bitter old man. Instead, he turned to Geralt with a leer. "So, is it gay or is it masturbation to want to get off with your own daemon?"

To say the table erupted in uproar was an understatement. Geralt was scowling somewhat fierce, arms crossed over his chest in protest. It only egged Lambert on further.

"I think it's incest," he declared with a shit eating grin. "Technically it's part of your family because you have the same parents."

"It's masturbation at most." Geralt was growling and glowering. "Because the daemon was still part of you."

Through it all, Eskel stayed rather quiet. It was only when the other two looked to him for opinion that he leaned forward, propping himself up on the table with a serious crease to his brows.

"I think-" the words were low and measured, "-that as long as everyone involved consents, it's fucking hot is what it is."

"The only thing it is," Vesemir finally butted in, "is a disaster waiting to happen. You don't want to meet your counterparts. Trust me."

Except that only made Lambert all the more keen. He wanted to both prove Vesemir wrong and also have what Geralt and Jaskier seemed to be hurtling towards. So, come spring, he set out with the intent of fulfilling one contract only. It was one that he would pay himself for in emotional fulfilment. He was going to find every Cat he could until he found Luca.

He met Gaetan along his travels who laughed in his face and said he was much more into snakes than wolves. That was an encounter Lambert was more than eager to cut short because he did not want to think about how Letho and Gaetan were oddly complementary. It was also another jolt of bitter jealousy, another Witcher and daemon had been reunited while he was still out there looking for his own. Assuming Luca had survived.

Meeting Guxart was a bit of an accident and Lambert wished he'd not encountered the old Cat. He growled and hissed about his stupid daemon who would probably have turned into a useless pigeon if left alone. There was obviously no love lost between them and Lambert desperately hoped he wasn't going to have the same fate.

Third time lucky, as the saying went. Lambert had trailed the new Cat for a few days, learning his habits and watching him work. There was no ounce of recognition or familiarity. But then again, the last time Lambert saw Luca, they were being dragged away from each other, foreign hands on his rapidly shifting body so his eyes could barely adjust enough to see the screaming, tear filled face of his human. It was quite possibly the worst last image he could have had of Luca.

Satisfied that the Cat wasn't someone Lambert wouldn't want to associate with, he approached in the evening when the campfire was still bright but slowly settling.

"I was wondering when my shadow would make himself known," the Cat said easily enough, barely glancing up from where he was whittling something.

The last two times Lambert had tried to be careful with exploring the idea of the Cat Witcher being his human. He was tired and cut straight to the point.

"Luca?"

By the fire the man froze. It was only luck that meant Lambert could hear the shuddering exhales of someone trying to keep up the façade of calm and collected. Finally, the man set his carving aside and stood with an easy smile that felt like a thousand lies.

"I go by Aiden." It wasn't a reply and Lambert knew it.

"I don't remember my name," he admitted softly, desperately hoping he wasn't about to make an utter tit of himself. "People call me Lambert. But I'm looking for my Luca."

He didn't expect to suddenly have an armful of Witcher clinging to him like their very lives depended on it.

"It's really you!" Aiden sounded close to tears. "You never did have a single name, usually going by Idiot, Pain In The Butt, Menace and so many other equally flattering names."

"Guess that never changed," Lambert laughed wetly. He held Aiden close, wishing he could feel as he used to when they were connected. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

It was just that start of something Lambert never thought he'd have. Easy companionship, shared disdain for the whole Witcher thing, stories upon stories of contracts gone well, gone wrong, or just plain gone. By the time winter rolled round, Lambert was firmly of the opinion that he and Aiden would travel together, fuck the Path and all the teachings about it being lonely. If Geralt could have his bard then they sure as hell could have each other.

Getting to Kaer Morhen, Lambert gleefully had an arm slung around Aiden's shoulder, introducing him to the rest of his family. He especially delighted in the flaring of Vesemir's nostrils as he took in the situation.

"Cats and Wolves don't mix. You of all people should know that."

"And you should know it's my life's mission to prove you wrong, old man," Lambert shot back.

Perhaps the most curious part of the whole winter was that Geralt was already back with not one, but two guests. Jaskier was a known quantity and Lambert greeted him warmly. The other though was a near silent man who watched them through eyes that looked way too old for his body.

"This is Cahir," Geralt said when the man didn't even introduce himself. "We'd heard rumours of a Nilfgaardian without a daemon and went to investigate."

"Not a Nilfgaardian," Cahir grumbled with a half-hearted glare.

It took Lambert a moment to figure out just why Geralt would bring such a man back before his eyes widened in delighted realisation.

"You think that-"

"Mhm."

That was the extent of their conversation because Lambert was cackling in delight. He looked Cahir over with a newfound interest. Young, like Jaskier but so very different in behaviour. As much as they'd wondered about Eskel's daemon's fate, this wasn't one they'd predicted.

Three days later Eskel was leading Scorpion into Kaer Morhen's courtyard. Lambert and Aiden were all but bouncing with excitement, not wanting to miss the moment Eskel met his daemon. In their opinion Geralt was drawing things out and making it less fun by not having them all meet in the stables. Instead, Eskel was allowed to venture into the kitchen in the company of Lambert and Aiden who were vibrating in anticipation.

"Eskel," Geralt greeted him with a warm hug. Jaskier and Cahir were behind him, even Vesemir had ventured out to see what the outcome would be. "It's good to have you home. Allow me to introduce you to Cahir."

The two looked at each other with guarded gazes and Eskel gave a terse nod. It was as anticlimactic as fuck. No recognition, not interest, nothing. Just a slow once over which, if Lambert had thought about it, was pretty much a mirror image of each other, equally considering and closed off.

Despondent, he dragged Aiden off, helping lay the table for a shared meal. Vesemir was quick to follow, there was no way to tell whether he was disappointed or relieved by the lack of drama. Geralt and Jaskier wandered out, oddly deflated. Not two seconds later there was an almighty crash from the kitchen and they were all racing back. Only to turn right around and flee after a glimpse of Cahir pinning Eskel to a wall and kissing him like Eskel was the last gasp of air for a drowning man.

"So, are they?" Jaskier asked, glancing towards the kitchen. Something else crashed and thumped but it was best not to investigate.

After a moment it was Vesemir who tiredly said, "Does it matter? It doesn't seem like they much care."

All in all, Lambert didn't think he cared either. Cahir and Eskel seemed happy enough in their new acquaintanceship, trying to figure out their past could wait, if they even wanted to explore it. Though Lambert had a hard time imagining Cahir as a goat. Over the years he'd heard Eskel lament enough about how his daemon preferred to take the form of a goat.

Regret came the next morning at breakfast when Eskel and Cahir appeared at the table, seemingly indifferent. If the rest of them hadn't see the two almost violently making out in the kitchen before disappearing to a bedroom, they wouldn't have guessed anything had gone on between them.

"Hey Geralt," Eskel called, face passive. "You know the difference between a goldfish and a mountain goat?"

"A mountain goat could live in Kaer Morhen but a goldfish couldn't?"

Eskel rolled his eyes. "No, a goldfish mucks around a fountain."

"And a mountain goat fucks around a mountain," Cahir finished the joke. He and Eskel high fived without looking at each other. Lambert only smacked his head on the table when Cahir continued, "And I am no goldfish."

#geraskier #lambden #eskhir #geralt/jaskier #lambert/aiden #eskel/cahir #unhappy vesemir/guxart #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #aiden #eskel #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #vesemir #daemon au #tldr: witchers' daemons are humans when the connection between them is severed

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thestarrynightslover · 4 years

Text

I'll Make It Okay for You - Part 1

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 3,666

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, mentions of drugs, and drug abuse.

Summary: What happens when (y/n) (y/l/n), Harvey’s secret crush and a junior partner at his firm, openly defies him in front of everyone?

You can find Part 2 here.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first Harvey Specter fic and I’m obviously quite unsure about it, lol. This might’ve ended up like one big mess, cause I tried to combine a bunch of Harveys I wanted to see. The perfect recipe for disaster, right? Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You’d barely stepped out of the elevator when you were met by your secretary that morning. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“Morning, (y/n/n). You’ve got an emergency meeting with Jessica today. Gonna give you the schedule on the way there.” Lucy stated, leading you on the opposite way to Jessica’s office.

“Oh, I got the memo; company’s under attack again. She wants me on the frontlines this time. Louis is probably running around saying ‘We’re at war, people, war!!!’, or something like that. But why aren’t we headed towards the boss’ office?”

“Apparently, uh, she wants y’all to convey at Harvey’s office.” She said hesitantly, as if afraid of your reaction.

“Are you kidding me? It’s the first hour of the morning and she wants me to go see that smug face of his?” You pouted childishly.

“Smug and hot, you mean.” Lucy corrected you, getting an outraged look from you in response, as she usually would by saying anything positive about Specter.

“Shush,” You said, motioning for her to stop talking, “ one shall not praise Harvey Annoying Specter around me.” You stated full of obstination, but the younger woman just laughed you off and said:

“Well, here we are. I guess I’ll just have to send you an e-mail with your schedule, since, once again, we spent our schedule minutes of the day talking about “the enemy”.” She mocked with gestures and everything this time. That Lucy really was a piece of work, she timed the whole thing perfectly, in a way that you couldn’t even repudiate her insinuations because you were already standing in front of Specter’s office door.

Not long after you had entered and Jessica had officially started the strategy-meeting, though, all eyes in the room turned to you, as your phone started ringing in your back pocket. "Shit! I'm- I'm so sorry, guys, I guess I-"

"Can you please take your job seriously for once in your life, (y/l/n)?" You heard Harvey Pain-In-The-Ass Specter rudely remark, as you tried to swallow your embarrassment.

“Well, like I was trying to say, I’m sorry. Gonna turn it off right now, won’t happen again.” You said, directing your apologetic look to Jessica.

“You should just go ahead and answer it, could be something important.” She calmly told you.

“Especially now that you’ve already interrupted our work.” Specter chipped in again, which just gave you more fuel to answer the goddamn phone.

“Hello, yeah this is her.” You confirmed to the man on the phone, while taking a few steps towards the corner of the room. “What??? Are you sure? Oh my God! O- okay, just tell me which one and I’ll be there as soon as possible! Right, thank you.” Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to understand what made you look so distressed. Except his, of course.

“Wait a second. Are you leaving right now?” He asked with a mix of annoyance and irritation in his voice.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, Jessica, but this is a family emergency. I have to go.”

“Well, I just hope you know that this doesn’t look good for you, (y/n).” She said, voice inexpressive.

“I do and, honestly? I couldn’t care less about that right now.” You firmly told her, while hoping your career wasn’t over by the next morning.

“I hope everything goes well for you and your family, (y/n). If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know.” Louis told you with that childish smile of his. Jesus, even in a moment like this, he tried to flirt with you.

“Thank you, Louis. That’s very kind.” You faked a tiny smile.

“Unbelievable.”

“What?” You asked, turning back to face Harvey.

“Your firm is under attack and you’re leaving because of some stupid family crap?” Was he even serious?

“Precisely. And I don’t really care what your thoughts are on it. Our priorities are clearly very different.” Who the hell did he think he was to say anything about your family’s issues?

“Well, that shouldn’t matter because, the minute you walk in here, through those elevators out there, you’re supposed to leave all things personal behind.”

“Oh, right. I’m so sorry that I’m not some heartless lawyer like you, who’s just in it for the petty fights in the name of money-making.” Shit. You needed to get the hell out of there before you said something else to make Specter wanna kick you out himself. So you did. Stormed out like there was no tomorrow, leaving nothing but the very shocked Donna, Jessica, Louis, Mike, and Rachel behind. Oh, yeah, and a very pissed-off Harvey Specter.

Okay, maybe you were a little too harsh, but given the place you needed to go, to do what you needed to do, you didn't care about Harvey, your job, or anything else.

---

It was much later on that same day, around dinner time, that you heard a soft knock on your door. But how could someone be at your door, if the doorman downstairs hadn't announced any visitors? Were you dreaming? Well, the day had been so tiring that that wasn't exactly impossible… Nonetheless, you made your way to the door, whilst holding your very needy three-year-old nephew in your arms. Not that you could blame Henry after the day he’d had.

Since you weren’t expecting anyone, it was reasonable to believe that, whoever it was, was going to be a surprise. But not in a million years would have you ever guessed that Harvey Specter was the one knocking at your door. Especially considering what had happened at the firm earlier. How did he even know your address?

“Hi, (y/l/n). I didn’t know you had a kid.” He stated with a bit of surprise of his own, pointing to the little boy you were carrying.

“No, uh, I don’t have any.” You managed to say, trying to control your shocked expression. “This is my nephew.” You clarified again, a little more at ease this time.

“My name’s Henry. What’s yours?” You heard your nephew ask with his cute child-voice.

“Harvey. It’s, uh, it’s very nice to meet you, Henry.” Harvey told the boy, holding out his hand for him to shake, as a sweet smile came to his lips.

“Is he your friend, auntie (y/n/n)?” Henry asked you hesitantly, before making a move. The Don’t Talk to Strangers Rule must’ve kicked in his mind.

Before answering him, you hesitated a little bit yourself, though. Was Harvey your friend? Obviously not, but if he came to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, it was probably because of something important. Work-related, of course. Which meant you’d have to let him in, so you settled for what would be the easiest classification for a three-year-old.

“Yeah, bud, he is my friend from work.” Hearing that, something in Specter’s eyes changed, you didn’t really know what, though.

“Well, then, can he come play with us?” He gave you such a cute look, that you almost said yes right on cue. But you obviously couldn’t.

“You’d have to ask him, but I’m sure he has a lot of other, more important, things to do now.” You tried to explain to the little boy, giving Harvey a look. But you didn’t get too far, as the lawyer quickly said:

“Of course I wanna go play with you! That is if your auntie’s okay with that…” Now he was mocking you, that was the only explanation.

“Can we play with him, then, auntie (y/n/n)? Please, please, please?” God, what horrible thing could’ve you possibly done to deserve this particular punishment?

“Um, I guess... If he really has nothing better to do-” Harvey didn’t even let you finish your sentence.

“I really don’t.” He said, shooting you and Henry a bright smile that you’d never seen before.

“Okay, then, come in. Please disregard the mess, I got this stuff to make dinner, but someone just won’t detach, right, mister?” You asked your nephew with fake annoyance in your voice, as you tickled his sides a little bit. He just laughed at you. Though what really caught your attention was the fact that Harvey, too, was chuckling lightly at the scene, as he started picking up your groceries’ bags from the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you, what else?” You gave him a weird look because, well, it was a weird situation. Maybe he noticed your discomfort because he added: “You look tired, so I’ll help you by making dinner and putting the rest of these away.”

“You’re kidding, right?” There was no way in hell that the All-Mighty Harvey Specter was gonna get domestic for you, of all people. Since he didn’t bother to answer, you went on: “First of all, what was it that you really came here to do, hum? And, second, I don’t need your help with anything.” Normally you tried to be kind to everyone, but, then again, Specter wasn’t exactly your normal kind of guy.

“Well, first of all,” he started in a tone of mockery, “that was rude! Look at the example you’re setting for little Henry!” Oh God, as much as you hated to admit it, he was kinda right, because you had completely forgotten about the little boy still cradled in your arms. “Second, we can talk about the reason why I came here later,” after your nephew’s asleep, was implicit in his speech, “third, it looks like you do need some help. And, for your luck, I happen to be a very good cook when I want to.”

“But-” You could barely begin your sentence, as Harvey sharply cut you off:

“You see, buddy,” he started, motioning to Henry this time, “the quicker we get your auntie on board with the game plan, the quicker we’ll get to eat and go play together!” Son of a bitch! Using a child to get to you…

“Can we please, auntie? Please?” How could you not crack after that pleading?

“Fine, but I swear I’ll make you pay if we wake up with food poisoning tomorrow, Specter.” You told him playfully, trying to lighten the mood after all of your bluntness.

“Oh, trust me, (y/l/n), you won’t. This will be the best meal you and the young man here will ever have in your entire lives.” He said cockily, but without the usual arrogance level, if that even makes sense.

A few hours and a really great dinner later, you and Henry couldn’t help but snicker shamelessly at Harvey’s ridiculous faces, as the three of you played a game on your living room’s floor. Trying to catch your breath from your giggles, you glanced up at the clock and realized that it was way too late for your nephew to be out of bed like that. So you broke up the game, announcing:

“It’s bedtime for you, Mr. Henry.” You watched the faces of the pair turn into ones of pure disappointment, as they prepared to pout.

“Just a little longer, auntie (y/n/n)! please!” The little boy started.

“Yeah, auntie, just a little longer! Please?” This time it was the grown man, one of the toughest Wall Street lawyers.

“As moved as I am by your synchrony, guys, the answer is a big no. C’mon, bud, let’s go brush your teeth. And then straight to bed. So say bye to Harvey, and thank him for being so nice to us tonight.” He looked between you and Specter as if still hoping for a hail Mary of some sort.

“Bye, Harvey.” He sounded so sad, but then he smiled brightly again, as he repeated what you’d told him to say word by word: “And thank you for being so nice to us tonight.” Hearing that, both you and Harvey chuckled lightly at the young boy, who quickly added: “Will you come see us tomorrow too?”

“Uh, we’ll, uh, we’ll see about that, okay, little man?” He tried to let Henry down slowly but, watching the boy’s expression become a sad one instantly, he added: “It’s just because both your auntie and I have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, but I’ll do my best, okay?” That was definitely a side of Harvey you’d never seen before, he had even bent down to be on your nephew’s level.

“Okay.” Henry said quietly, seeming to be a little happier, too.

“Okay, then let’s just go upstairs already.” You took the boy’s hand to guide him towards the spare bedroom’s bathroom, all the while shooting Specter a look that told him to wait for you a little longer.

“I’ll wait for you down here.” He said, proving he understood what your eyes tried to transmit.

So you headed upstairs with your nephew and, after a good fifteen minutes of brushing Henry’s teeth, helping him into his PJs, and tucking him in, you finally managed to come back to the living room, where you found Harvey looking through some of your photos displayed on the sideboard. For a minute or two, you just watched him. It wasn’t that you liked what you saw or anything. It wasn’t. It was more like postponing the weird conversation you two were bound to have, because, after all that had happened in those few hours, the atmosphere was, at very least, a strange one. But, almost as if he’d felt your gaze on his back, the lawyer in him was switched on, and he interrupted your thoughts by saying:

“Ah, you’re back. Good, because we need to talk.” You just motioned for him to follow you into your home office. But both you and Harvey looked so informal to be in that kind of environment, that you just indicated the small couch on the wall opposite to your desk for you to take your seats in.

“So, uh, before you even say anything, I wanna thank you for being so kind tonight,” a small smile came to your lips, as you remembered, not only the evening but how your nephew had used almost those exact same words, already imitating you, a little earlier. Specter smiled too, you noticed. “and I also wanna apologize. If you came here to talk to me… I must’ve made you waste a lot of time, huh?” You tried with a half-smile this time, as embarrassment started taking over you.

“What? No, of course not! I'm pretty sure that I told you I didn't have anything better to do, didn't I?" He calmly asked with a smile.

"Yeah, but I'm not buying it. You're Harvey Specter, isn't that what you're always saying? And Harvey Specter always has something better to do, isn't that right?" You shot back in a mockery tone, regaining your confidence.

"Well, maybe. But, not today. So don't apologize, and don't thank me. I'm the one who should be thanking you, I had a really good time tonight." Okay, now you were shocked. He had a good time?

"Uh, okay, um, so... What was so urgent that you had to come here in the middle of the night?" You nervously ranted, while tugging your hair behind your ears. He just stared at you, so much so that you almost repeated your question.

"Um, yeah, about this morning… That's why I came here…" You were already guessing that that would come up eventually, but it was the topic of your conversation? "I know that you and I always had our differences, and maybe even some rivalry-"

"Some rivalry? Dude, I'm just a junior partner, and ever since I started on that firm you've been persecuting me-"

"I wouldn't say persecuting…"

"Oh, you wouldn't?"

"Not since you made junior partner anyways. Now it's just a healthy rivalry between work friends…" He tried to use what you’d told your nephew earlier.

"Oh, so you do admit you were persecuting me when I was an associate, huh?"

"Shit." He muttered quietly, as you watched him with a victory smile on your lips. "You know what? Hell yeah, I did persecute you when you were an associate." Hearing that blunt admission of guilt, you just couldn't find anything to say. “You wanna know why? I did that because, from the first time I saw you doing your job, I saw this very thing that I see now: you kicking ass, you think I wanted to admit this to you? I’ll answer it myself: no, I didn’t. The only reason why it happened is that you led me to it.” He blurted out, completely knocking you off your socks.

“So, um, you treated, you treat me like shit because, um, because I’m good?” You asked, still unsure of what to think about his confession.

“Well, that was part of it, sure. So, you see, I could understand it when you weren’t particularly thrilled at the perspective of working with me. But, this morning, you said that I’m a heartless guy who only cares about money… Is that really what you think of me?” This time he sounded genuinely sad? When Harvey said that he’d come to your apartment to talk about that morning, you thought he was gonna reprimand the shit out of you for disrespecting him ⎯ your sort of boss, a senior partner ⎯, but, apparently, he was asking about it on a more personal level. A level you’d never really thought played a part in your relationship with him.

“Oh, Harvey…”

“Be honest, please. I don’t want your pity. You don’t even know me all that well, so don’t try to minimize anything. I can take it.”

“That’s not what I was gonna do. And, trust me, you’re probably the last person in the world I’d pity.” You told him with a sly smile. “You’re right. I don’t know you all that well. Or, at least, I didn’t this morning. But I do know that you’re not heartless. Also, I was really out of line then, I’ve seen you fighting tooth and nail for a lot more than just money in that firm. You’re loyal to your firm and friends like no one else and, tonight, I watched you sitting on the floor and playing with a little boy. And, trust me, that meant more to him than you’d ever know, especially after today… Anyways, what I’m really trying to say is that I was so damn wrong and that I’m sorry. I’d gotten some pretty nerve-racking news beforehand, not that that’s an excuse but...” You told him, meaning every word and trying hard to show how much you regretted your previous actions.

“Wait, what news?”

“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about, really.” You tried to brush him off.

“Oh, c’mon! You said all those nice things about me, but when it comes to your life and your problems you still don’t trust me, isn’t that right?” His tone was sharply inexpressive, but his eyes showed he was actually hurt.

“What are you talking about? Oh my God, Harvey! I’ve relied on you for a number of cases that I really cared about! I let you in on my apartment! I let you spend an entire night around my nephew! Of course, I trust you!”

“Then what the hell is the problem? You think I’m not gonna give a damn about your family issues? Is that it? Because I am literally begging you to tell me about them!”

“I don’t wanna tell you because I don’t want you, or anyone else on the firm, to think that I’m some pathetic little girl who uses her family issues as an excuse to get out of a tough fight.” You confessed in a lower tone, slightly embarrassed, just hoping he would understand and stop poking. “Things are very different when you’re a woman, you know…”

“I would never think that about you. Family is important. Especially if it’s made of people like Henry…” He said, reassuring you, even though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Besides, you said you trust me, so you need to trust me when I say that I wouldn’t betray you by telling people about your problems. I’m not here as your boss, (y/n). I just wanna help you.” He sounded so sincere and, if you were being honest with yourself, you kinda really needed to vent.

“Okay, um, where to start? I have two sisters: Henry’s mother, Kat, and a fifteen-year-old, Lisa. I’m the older one of all three of us. Lisa’s sick, like very sick, so my parents, who are both retired, are with her at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, to try and get her better. In the meantime, Kat was supposed to go to college, as well as care for her son, between my parents and me, she wouldn’t even need to provide for them or anything. But, a while ago, she overdosed for the first time. That’s when we found out about her addiction. We’ve already tried a million different things but nothing works. So, my parents and I threatened to make her lose her parental rights over Henry, hoping that it’d be a wake-up call for her, but it backfired. She just took the boy and disappeared, then today I get that call, from the police department, saying that she was in custody for drug distribution and endangering the well-fare of a minor. They asked me to go pick my nephew and, maybe, get Kat a lawyer.” And, just like that, you’d told Harvey Specter, of all people, everything. Tears rolling down your cheeks and him pulling you into a hug.

If anyone had told you that that was how your night was gonna go, you would have definitely laughed them out of the room. But now, just sitting there, being held and caressed by Harvey, as you let your armor down, it was finally beginning to look like things were gonna be okay.

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aro-is-gay-af · 3 years

Text

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 3

I reckon, that if you’re reading Part 3, then you know two previous ones. In case you didn’t read them yet: Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you for all warm words and praise! It means world to me.

I also love this series, folks! I need to admit, I did get addicted to it a little, so I thought it’d be great to set updates schedule. It won’t be precise, but you can expect another part roughly in two weeks time from now.

As per usual, sorry for any confusion and grammatical mistakes.

Warnings: Rape (mentioned), Depression, PTSD, Forced Pregnancy, Blood

Word count: 6200

No summary this time. Also, this one has very sweet parts in it!!!

ENJOY!

The next day, you had your appointment with the doctor. A doctor was apparently a woman and you were sure the kings were paying her something extra for the visit to be immediate. Unfortunately, she didn’t know any English, as she was a local gynaecologist. Your mates didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, so before the visit, Aro asked you, who you’d like to be the translator for you.

The ideal situation would be a woman, but you didn’t trust anyone in the castle, except the kings. For this reason, your first shot was Aro, as he had already seen your memories. There was nothing that would shock him, you also didn’t need to hide anything from him and you knew, he was the best at dealing with others. You figured it’d be an ideal solution and you had to admit to yourself that you simply wanted him to accompany you.

The whole visit took place in your room, which meant a lot of carrying the necessary equipment, but more mental comfort for you. In those two days, you managed to get quite settled in and didn't want to leave the castle. You felt safe and secured in your suite. Kings seemed to notice that, as it was Marcus, who proposed, it would be a great idea to have an appointment without the need of leaving your room.

While you both were waiting for the doctor to come, it was the first time you had seen Aro with brown eyes. He looked really out of place. You shared this thought with him, by saying you prefer when his eyes are normal. That’s what it took. Two days, to consider red eyes normal. As usual, he was polite and revealed to you that he also hated the colour, let alone the lenses.

When the doctor finally arrived, you were already a nervous wreck. Aro tried to distract you, asking questions mainly about your house in Forks and whether you had already spoken to Bella about family heirlooms. He succeeded for a while, but it couldn't last forever, could it?

The lady was extremely kind and gentle. The truth was, it was hard to hide how stressed you were about this visit. You didn't want anyone to touch you, not when you weren't ready, and this time you definitely weren't. Despite the doctor's initial efforts, you were unable to shake her hand in greeting. She only smiled sadly, as if understanding perfectly what you were going through. Aro assured you beforehand, for he had not told her anything and only if you wanted to, you should share your trauma with her.

The doctor, seeing your nervousness, decided that you should talk first. While she asked you questions, you noticed that she chose her words carefully and only then did you realise that she was also stressed, but in her case it was probably Aro's presence that made her uncomfortable. Although Aro tried not to impose his presence on her, you understood why it might overwhelm the doctor. You felt confident being in the same room with Aro, while she probably sensed danger, even if she could not rationally explain it to herself. You promised yourself that you would try to learn at least the basics of Italian before the next visit.

She needed to ask you about exactly everything since, unfortunately, you didn't have any medical records with you - neither from the obduction, nor from the subsequent visit to the doctor, where you confirmed the pregnancy. You made a mental note to tell Bella about it, so she could send your documents, along with the things she was supposed to take from your house.

Aro was great in his translator role. Of course, you were still looking at the doctor, while answering the questions, but Aro’s voice, at least, soothed your shattered nerves just a little bit. When the questions started to get more complicated or more intimate, Aro used such words as to not make you feel uncomfortable, while still conveying the meaning. The more difficult part started, when you had to describe the situation from the hospital and how long it took for the bleeding to stop. Every word seemed linked to a particular image or smell from that night, until finally, you were unable to say anything at all.

The doctor was very understanding, probably having already guessed what exactly was your weird behaviour all about. You didn't say anything directly, you only described the situation from the hospital and then told her the details of this strange bleeding after the rape. Mainly because the doctor was very concerned about it. She explained to you that it was definitely not normal, even if you had wounds inside.

The worst part, however, was the examination. You didn't even want to think about whether you would have to undress, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The doctor had a great intuition, even if she herself was under a bit of stress. You told her that, indeed, you had been to the check-up before and that was how you found out you were pregnant. And that the doctor then checked if all the wounds had healed. The lady didn’t discuss the issue, for which you were very grateful.

After the interview, the doctor told you to lie down on the bed and only pull your blouse up, high enough for your belly to be visible. You didn't feel comfortable with this, but you preferred this way to undressing from the waist down. This was the first time you didn't feel comfortable lying on that bed. You knew that once the visit was over, everything would return to normal, but it wasn’t meant to become a memory you would return to with pleasure.

As it turned out, your first trimester was long over. The pregnancy was about 14 weeks old and that would explain the slight curving of your belly. Before the appointment, you were not sure if you would even look at the monitor to see the baby, but you did. You could not deny yourself this. The room fell silent and you could not tell what you were feeling.

The doctor pulled out some kind of a strange device and after a moment, you could hear the baby's heart. You glanced in the direction of Aro, who was obviously alarmed by your face. You grimaced, too overwhelmed to say anything to him. Up until this point, you were sure that the decision, if you should terminate the pregnancy or not, would be fairly easy. Now, you were certain that nothing in your life could be simple enough.

Over the next few weeks, your day usually looked the same or similar, yet you managed to do something completely different every day. You were glad you had so much to do, because you didn't have time to think about what had happened. You didn't want to analyse it over and over again. The kings respected your choice - unless you yourself mentioned the traumatic events, not a single insinuation or implication about it fell from their lips.

Your days were filled with various activities. Every day you spent at least some time with each king in private - you knew you needed this to create and strengthen your bond. To keep you from being inundated with information, you learned something new from each of them about vampires and their lifestyle. After all, it was supposed to become your lifestyle in the nearest future. You discovered that thinking about your transformation caused you far less anxiety, than any memory associated with rape. Even after you learned that it more or less consisted of burning alive for a few days.

During your time with the kings, you tried not to show the insecurity you had acquired about your body, and yet, you were sure they knew anyway. However, the time spent with them was what you treasured most. With each of them you did something different, as you wanted to know what they like to do in their free time. Marcus, as he had promised on the first day, taught you Italian for two hours every day. It was not easy, but after a few weeks of intensive course and communicating in broken Italian, not only with Marcus, but also with the other two, you were able to maintain basic conversation.

Marcus was a great teacher, but that wasn’t the only reason why you loved spending time with him. He was the one who had the most time for you - he wasn't as busy as Aro or Caius, and besides, he had countless amounts of patience. He wasn't tired of your constant questions, not only about vampirism, but also about his past. You would often sit for hours in the library or in the gardens, which, by the way, were breathtaking. You both loved books and your only regret was that you weren't able to read most of their vast collection. Marcus assured you, you would have all eternity to do so. You could talk with him endlessly, as these conversations were truly effortless – even the most difficult topics seemed simple and uncomplicated.

You were surprised to learn about a gift of his. Your human mind was unable to comprehend it in the full sense of the word. Mostly because of this, he was the one to explain to you, what your bond even was and how exactly it worked. You have learned that after your transformation, you will feel the bond even more strongly. It is not often that one person has as many as three matches and is able to feel the bond while being human. Marcus explained to you that for now, both your mind and body are only subconsciously sensing the presence of the mates, as it’s impossible for human senses to do anything else.

It was so remarkable to you that you discussed it for hours. You also learned that the bond can be broken, as it is not forced in any way. However, this would be emotionally painful and very few vampires would choose to take such a desperate step.

One afternoon you were spending time in the garden again. You loved being outdoors, but for your own safety you did not go outside the castle grounds. Together, you decided that it would be safer to do only after your transformation. Besides, you didn't want to go anywhere. You were safe under the watchful eye of your mates and Renata, who, apart from the time spent with the kings and in your room, followed you in a constant manner.

The gardens were gorgeous and you wondered, who was taking care of all those magnificent flowers. You were strongly convinced that this was exactly what Eden might have looked like. You and Marcus had your favourite bench. You spent a lot of time outside, especially on sunny days. When you first found out why sitting in the sun might be a problem, you couldn't take your eyes off Marcus. He shimmered brilliantly, but your eyesight couldn't stand it for too long, because of the blinding effect. The gardens, however, were fenced off and inaccessible to the common passer-by, so you were safe to stay, as long as you wanted to.

“I asked Aro recently, if vampires can be killed in some way,” you began cautiously, not wanting to scare him away from this conversation. No one had talked to you about it, however, it still crossed your mind what state Marcus was in when you first saw him. You were willing to swear you looked exactly the same after your mother died. Now, knowing what all the mating bond was about, you were convinced that Marcus had lost someone dear to his heart.

As per usual, he smiled gently at you.

“I'm sure his answer was sufficient, my dear. What are you aiming at?” he asked, looking at you obliquely.

You took his hand in yours. With Marcus, physical contact was as easy as a conversation. He, however, never initiated any touch. He waited for you, just like he was waiting now, to reach for his hand or gently grasp his arm. The only movement he allowed himself was to stroke your hair every now and then, but only when he was absolutely sure you were willing.

“I wanted to ask what happens to the bond, when the vampire…is no longer here,” you said bluntly, not taking your eyes off him. Your understanding was unique. Marcus was gentle in manner, patient and extremely caring towards you. In no way did you want to ruin, what you had built over those few weeks.

His smile turned into one of the saddest you've seen on his face. By the time he answered, you regretted asking at all. You didn't want to cause him pain. You squeezed his fingers in your palm.

“Until you came to Volterra, I was sure that a vampire could only experience this special, unique bond once in a lifetime. I did experience it, yet this story does not have a happy ending,” he said, with utmost sadness in his voice.

Your heart ached, as you watched his suffering and grief. You had asked the question unnecessarily, but now there was no turning back. You continued to stroke his fingers, holding his hand securely in yours.

“When one of the vampires connected by mating bond dies, it does not mean that the bond disappears. It exists, but only on one side. It cannot be cherished, it cannot be repaired in any way. It isn’t reciprocated. What remains are the memories, and they are the only reminder of what the bond really meant, when it existed,” he explained in a distressed voice, slowly and carefully.

Holding his hand, you laid your head on his shoulder and sighed heavily.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you,” you whispered after a moment, feeling tears stinging under your eyelids. Even now, you couldn't imagine losing any of them and you couldn't possibly envision the amount of pain Marcus had gone through.

He embraced you carefully and gently hugged you to his side.

"Don't fret over it, cara. I've made my peace with it. However, that doesn't mean I've forgotten. I still miss her, after all these years," he said with longing in his voice, stroking your shoulder gently.

After a long moment of silence, you were in a genuinely poor condition. Tears dripped down your cheeks and your breathing quickened. Not only because of the pain Marcus must have gone through, but also because of your own yearning. You had come to terms with the death of your parents, but you missed them so much. You wanted to have them at least a little longer. Now, standing on the verge of immortality, you wished you had spent more time with them.

Marcus placed a kiss on your hair.

“Sob it out, dear. Nothing helps the soul more than honest tears,” he whispered, and you were ashamed, because you should be the one providing comfort for him. However, the memories were too fresh and you couldn't hold it back.

Once you had calmed down a bit, he handed you a handkerchief to wipe away your tears.

“I wish I could change my memories. Even if it was only for a brief moment to be able to forget that I will never see them again. To be able to forget what this…this monster did to me,” you whispered, snuggling tighter into his shoulder.

You heard his sigh and his embrace around your shoulder tightened.

“You have been terribly abused, cara. No one deserves such a fate. The most important thing now, is to get on with life. Our loved ones would not want us to dwell on their deaths,” he said, as wise and thoughtful, as ever. The hatred towards your abuser was palpable in Marcus’s voice.

“You are so good to me. I don't deserve this,” you whispered after a while, your voice swollen with emotion. He only smiled indulgently.

“You deserve the very best, dear. I've already lost one mate. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I’m sure she would be proud of you,” you said with compassion, after another moment of silence.

“I’m not quite certain about that,” he said, placing another kiss on the top of your head.

But you were sure. You were also sure, you would do anything to prevent Marcus from experiencing something like this again. You knew all too well the taste of grief.

You truly had little time to think about the rape and pregnancy at all. If you weren’t with Marcus, it was Caius who loved to kidnap you, so he could spent some private time with you. Caius was the complete opposite of Marcus – absolute chaos, you could say. You had no idea how the brothers even got along. You had already noticed that Marcus rarely spoke, while Caius was rather impulsive and liked to discuss things in detail. However, until you started spending time alone, you had no idea what he was really passionate about.

It turned out that his greatest passion was art. He would show you countless paintings he himself had painted throughout the centuries. He could talk for hours about types of paint and how to mix colours properly. Although you were not very good at painting, you tried to learn a little with Caius’ help. When he was alone with you, he was still abrupt and impulsive, but in a charming way. He never imposed himself on you and you discovered that annoying him was really great fun. So banter and frequent teasing were the order of the day.

You often spent afternoons and evenings with Caius. He taught you how to paint, but not only. Art history was his passion and you loved to listen to him tell stories. His voice was mesmerising and hypnotic. He also eagerly answered all your questions about vampire race. You listened about the horrible children of the moon and how Caius singlehandedly had almost slaughtered them all. He warned you that after the transformation you would be violent and impulsive, that you would have nothing on your mind but to satisfy your thirst. This frightened you slightly, but at times when things got weird or dangerous, Caius assured you that you would always have full support of your mates. You never doubted that. You knew they would help you to grow accustomed to your new life.

Caius loved every variety of art you could name. When he asked you for permission to sculpt you, you were so surprised that you made a strange sound. He said that, of course, he wasn't going to overstep your boundaries and you yourself would choose some beautiful casual attire, so he could portray your beauty in sculpture. All you had to do was dress once as he asked and stand in the right pose. He remembered every detail of your posture, including your facial expressions. Often, he would sculpt you, while you would talk about insignificant things also learning how to sculpt...well, things that didn't resemble anything. Yet, you wanted to be as good as he was.

You were in your nineteenth week, when he invited you for a long painting session. His studio was huge and consisted of nothing but breathtaking works of art. You were decorating some random sculpture that you had never seen before. Caius also loved contemporary art, so you could go wild. Taking classes with him was better, than any therapy. You could smear paint on everything - the canvas, the sculptures, yourself, and even him, because he was usually in a good mood and you could enjoy it. He never showed you even a trace of anger, and you, fooling around with him like that, were genuinely pleased and happy.

When you finished, the room looked rather bad, not to mention the clothes or your hair. Caius would never have appeared that way to the guards, let alone on trial, but with you it was different.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, wiping the paint off your cheek.

You took his hand. Caius, like Marcus, did not invade your personal zone, unless you specifically gave permission. However, carnality and touch were important to him, and so, once you were more comfortable in his presence, he liked to show you affection by stroking your cheek or your back, and intertwining his fingers with yours, when you held hands. You didn't mind his cold skin – by now you were accustomed to it, as three of them had similar body temperature. You were the hottest here. Literally.

You walked slowly to another room.

“I didn't tell you, but I finished craving” he said, and you could hear the excitement in his voice. You smiled at him. That was the main reason why you had agreed to have yourself sculpted in the first place. You wanted to get close to him on a level, which was inaccessible to do in any other way.

“Before you show me, will you tell me as to where you even got the idea of carving me?” you asked, amused. Caius was much taller than you, you had to slightly lift your head to look him straight in the eye.

At first, he smiled archly, but immediately his smile softened. He pulled at the material that covered the sculpture, so that it fell to the floor. You were simply speechless. The woman, who stood opposite to you was over four metres tall. The sculpture was made of marble and the woman looked, as if she was an actual person. There was something elusive about her. Her face, thoughtful yet serene, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders onto her back. She was clad in a fine fabric that flowed in waves down to her bare feet. She looked nothing like you and yet, you two looked exactly alike.

You had no idea that you started crying. The woman was beautiful. You could feel the power and dignity emanating from her, and on the other hand, she seemed to you as if... fragile and ephemeral. Caius had captured in this sculpture all the feelings you had been feeling, without even knowing it.

You felt his hand on your cheek, his fingers gently wiping away your tears along with some paint, which remained on your face.

“I thought I would like you to see yourself through my eyes. Exactly as I see you – without a single flaw, yet with all your imperfections. I don't want you to be unable to look at yourself, because of what this animal did to you. I don't see it. I only see you, [Y/N]. The real you. Beautiful and fragile, yet powerful, without inhibitions or scruples. Capable of anything.”

The words were trapped in your throat. You wanted to say something, but you were sure, that as soon as you were going to open your mouth, uncontrollable sob would come out. You looked first at Caius, then at the woman carved in marble, then back at Caius. He only smiled gently.

“Who we are – we decide that ourselves. No one else does. To me, you are beautiful. Pure. Never think otherwise, dolcezza.”

Without warning, you hugged him so hard, that it hurt. You forgot that his skin was different from yours. He embraced you without hesitation, even though you were all covered in paint. You wept, cuddling into his chest, as he soothingly stroked your hair and back.

Once you had slightly calmed down, you looked up at him. His blond hair looked like a halo over his head. He amazed you in every sense of the word.

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me see this,” you whispered poignantly, and then went straight back to hugging him.

“There's nothing to thank you for, my lovely [Y/N]. I would like you to accept yourself as you are. Because you are truly magnificent.”

The only person you talked straightforward about pregnancy was Aro. Was it because of his gift? Most likely, and you simply felt you could trust him. From the moment you first found yourself in his arms, the bond between you two only strengthened. Also, a memorable visit from the doctor was also significant, and then, together with him, you went through the documents that Bella had sent you. To say he was furious, was an understatement. Yes, Aro saw your memories, but the reports were written from a third-person perspective. And the other evening was really awful – you couldn't stop crying because you couldn't block out the flow of memories.

You were close with each other; close enough for you to try to overcome your insecurities, to talk about how you really felt about this whole situation you found yourself in. It was far from easy, but Aro was a really patient specimen. In the course of these talks, you discussed practically everything. You knew that every scenario had to be worked out and discussed, because there were many different options of the outcome.

Despite many conversations, you were still unsure about keeping the baby. You didn't know if you wanted to, if you would be able to raise it and then tell it that it would forcibly have to become a vampire. After the doctor's appointment, things did not get any easier for you. You heard the heart and knew that the child was not to blame for its father’s actions. You were raped, but this child had nothing to do with it.

So you waited. You waited for a miracle to decide for you or for the baby to move when you were thinking of having it removed. It’d be a sign not to do it. However, nothing of the sort was happening and fate was not deciding for you. Aro convinced you that, even if you decided to have an abortion, there was nothing wrong about it. No one would blame you for it. The only person to blame here, was the monster who raped you.

You hadn't decided what you would do about the pregnancy, but you and Aro knew what would happen, if something went wrong. For your mates, it was your health and life that came first. Aro assured you of that a thousand times over. Because of this, if anything went wrong with the birth or if there were any complications, you were to be changed immediately. Also because of this, Aro talked to you about all aspects of your transformation. He was the one who introduced you to what transformation actually looks like. He didn't scare you with the pain you were about to go through, but only gave you the facts. Facts that you needed to know.

When you weren't talking about such serious matters, Aro also loved to spend time talking to you, but about different topics. He seemed to know all your thoughts, but you were still able to surprise him. He explained to you, that the human mind was more disordered and chaotic, than vampire one and that he certainly didn't see everything. Your brain chose the memories, often associated with strong feelings and emotions, which were meant to be remembered. You were joyful about this, because you could talk endlessly and he kept finding out something new about you. And you kept finding something new about him. You knew from the first moment that he was extraordinary, and the more you talked, the more you became certain about it.

Besides, Aro adored dancing. You were not convinced about this form of activity, but it was the intimacy of this act that convinced you. In his arms, no one was able to hurt you. You felt safe and, after many attempts, quite confident in your movements. He literally beamed, being able to teach you to dance and to be so close to you. You found nothing in his eyes but the infinite adoration he had for you. When you found out the reason behind this, your heart almost broke with sorrow and compassion.

“I must confess something to you, cara mia,” he whispered, holding you securely in his arms. It was evening, you had long since been prepared for sleep. He found your long nightgown to his liking, when he came to check how you were doing and if you needed anything. You rested your head on his shoulder. There was no music, he was the one giving the rhythm to your movements, yet it was the most wonderful dance you had yet had the chance to dance with him.

“Do tell, please,” you said, trying not to lose the rhythm. You were tired, as throughout the day you sorted through the things Bella sent you from Forks. In addition, you worked with Marcus to sell your house, because you were, after all, a little concerned about what hands your family home would pass into.

“I have been bound over the centuries to both men and women. My ex-wife, Sulpicia, whom you know and, to the best of my knowledge, whom I permitted to leave, was my faithful companion, basically from the beginning of my immortality. However, until now, I did not know what it meant to have a true mate.”

He tilted you gently, wishing to look into your eyes. You continued to sway to a non-existent rhythm, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You furrowed your brows.

“Are you serious?” you asked in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment. The light emanating from the candles, illuminated half of his face. He smiled, and you were unable to take your eyes off his red irises.

“Yes, my dear. I have waited over three thousand years for you. I must tell you, that I could wait another three millennia, only to see your beautiful face,” he said affectionately, holding you tighter against him to stroke your flushed cheek with his fingers.

Your eyes welled up with tears and he slowly bent down and kissed your forehead.

“That's enough for today, cara mia. You must rest well. Caius has something planned for tomorrow, but he didn't want to reveal what, under any circumstances,” he said amused, giggling under his breath. You loved when Aro was in a good mood, because then you were in a good mood too. Before he walked you to bed, he wiped away your tear. You squeezed his hand in yours, then climbed onto the bed. He covered you carefully with a duvet and stroked your hair.

“I'm glad I came here,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I never want to leave you,” you said with force. He smiled softly at you and stroked your hair once more.

“We will always be by your side, [Y/N]. Good night, cara.”

His voice so soft and tuneful that as soon as he snuffed out the candles, you drifted off to sleep in an instant.

Apart from the fact that almost everything was going great and your mental state was in constant improvement, your relationship with Bella had severely worsened. In the beginning you talked every evening. She still couldn't understand why you were selling the house and why you wouldn't, at least, want to visit Forks. After a while, you got fed up with explaining it to her. There were an awful lot of things she wasn't happy about and she didn't hide it. She kept criticising the Volturi without knowing them and having no idea, what they were actually doing.

You loved her like a sister, but because of that, she could annoy you exactly like one. Because of her pinching remarks and your lack of patience, you called each other less and less. You didn't want to keep getting annoyed and you were tired of explaining things to her. Besides, you didn't like that she didn't say a single good word about your mates. You at least tried to accept Edward. Suddenly, what he did to her was all forgotten and you couldn't understand it. You didn't know, what was happening to your sister and your stay in Italy didn’t exactly make things better. You still hoped that once you saw each other after the transformation, you would be able to explain it all to one another. You didn't want to lose Bella, the last person you considered family.

So you talked less and less or not at all, and when you did, you avoided difficult and sensitive topics. It was not like with Bella at all and it made you anxious. You were at ease with each other, almost always, and you didn’t get why she was so bitter and hateful towards your knew, chosen life. Especially, because partially your presence right then, in the trial chamber, was the reason for her to be alive at all.

Shortly after Caius presented you with your sculpted self, you were to spend the whole day together, the four of you. These were the days you loved the most. Although you cherished the time spent with each of your mates separately, the presence of all three put you in an ecstatic mood. You usually spent your afternoons like this – there were still a lot of things to do and solve, and a lot of trials to carry out.

Being in Volterra for so long, you learned a lot about the existing laws and how to enforce them. You knew that kings were not flawless, but it was logical to you that keeping the entire vampire world in line, required some sacrifices. Some greater than the other ones.

You usually sat down in the study, where you had ended the very first day, at a round table. You listened to the discussions and arguments, but also just spent time with your mates. You often sat on Aro's lap or tried to calm Caius down, when he became too agitated.

You were extremely excited since the morning, because they promised you a whole day outside. It wasn't often that all three of them wanted to spend time with you in the gardens, so you couldn't restrain your exhilaration. However, there were also days, or rather moments, when, under any circumstances, you could not leave your room. Such a moment was to occur today, after breakfast. You slept for a long time, almost until eleven o'clock. When you ate your breakfast, it was Renata who informed you that it was time to eat. Of course, you knew what it was about.

The only situation, in which you could not leave your chamber, was at lunchtime. Not yours, though, but the lunchtime of all the vampires, who inhabited the castle. For your own safety, usually for about two hours, you were not to leave and to occupy yourself with whatever you wanted. The only two hours, in which Renata or anyone else was not around you. Not many people knew about your stay in the castle and because of this, the kings decided that Renata should eat with the rest of the company.

You did not consider it strange in the slightest. Of course, you tried not to think about the fact that people would die, but you knew that they were chosen at random. Which meant that they could just as well have been run over by a car or they could have died in a fire. You did not think about it. You were just enjoying your two hours of freedom. Sometimes you sunbathed on the balcony, prepared your outfit or just played on the computer. These were little things that still reminded you of being human.

This week, when Renata told you that she would be gone for a while, you were already enjoying a long soak in the bathtub. The home spa was one of the favourite things you and your mum liked to do together. You poured hot water into the tub, applied a mask that you had prepared yourself with a few ingredients and relaxed.

Since you had no idea when, you were no longer afraid to look in the mirror. Sure, your body shape was far from ideal, but at least you weren’t terrified to look. You weren’t terrified to acknowledge that, yes, your body was raped, but you were recovering from it. And that you started to think that your body didn’t cause any of this.

After some time you spent in the bathtub, you felt a little dizzy. It wasn’t exactly a good sign, so you figured it’d be wise to get out of the tub. When you rinsed yourself off with clean water, you stood up, and that was the moment of terror. The room immediately started spinning, like you were on roundabout for the last forty minutes. You felt nauseous, but there was nothing near you to which you could cling to. You managed to step out of the tub, on the marble step, and then you felt it. Pain, excruciating pain, suffocation. Streams of blood went down your legs and before you fell onto the ground, you could only see white marble floor all covered in sanguineous blood.

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tennessoui · 3 years

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would you ever do a hunger games au? like anakin and obi-wan in the arena and doing a katniss and peeta thing where they both survive? anakin maybe killing the competitors so obi-wan wouldn't have to? (just thinking that child killing is in character for him) anyway no pressure or anything I just haven't stopped thinking about a hunger games au of obikin and. I thought maybe you could do something with it!

i need you to know i shamefully snorted at the child murder thing i'm sorry and i'm also sorry this took so long and it's a bit all over the place and doesn't actually get into the Games at all (+ it's been years since I read the books so all inaccuracies should be tastefully ignored pls) this may not be what you asked for tbh but here you go!!

(content warnings: hunger games typical discussion of child murder, but nothing graphic)

(1.7k)

Anakin’s first emotion after his name is called is a strange sense of relief.

Good, he thinks. I’ll get to go with Obi-Wan. He won’t be alone.

He dutifully steps forward out of the crowd towards the stage, where the announcer is waiting next to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan who is looking at him with an expression of naked devastation.

Anakin tries to convey that it’ll be alright, that it’s fine, that they knew this was a possibility. Sure, it’s Anakin’s last year eligible to be in the Games. Sure his nineteenth birthday is in two weeks, at which point he would become too old to qualify as a child to the Capitol, but what’s done is done.

Obi-Wan will be his mentor, because Obi-Wan has been the mentor for District Four ever since he won his own Games seven years ago when he was sixteen and Anakin was twelve.

That year’s known unofficially as the most boring Games in Panem history, but the Capitol loves how handsome Obi-Wan’s grown to be. So what if he didn’t kill his competitors messily or with a bloodthirsty joy? He’s so polite in his interviews all these years later, and look at those dimples!

It makes Anakin sick, every time Obi-Wan has to leave District Four and travel to the Capitol to be fawned over and stroked and used. His nightmares are always worse the weeks after he gets back, and he never lets Anakin hold him during them.

And it’s even worse during the actual Games, when Obi-Wan is put in charge of two children’s lives only to see them brutally murdered on screen a week later. The cameras always show his reaction when the competitors from District Four die. They must think he cries pretty or something.

Anakin hates the Capitol. He hates them for what they’ve done to Obi-Wan. What they’ve made him into

As he gets close enough to the stage, he notices that Obi-Wan’s hands are shaking slightly.

He doesn’t even listen to the name of the girl being called. She’s not important. She’ll be dead in a few days time. What’s important is Obi-Wan. What’s important is comforting him, is reassuring him. Is coming back to him.

This is the moment when Anakin resolves that these Games will become known as the quickest in history.

---

The girl is understandably sullen and upset on the train. “I should get a different mentor!” she demands. “It’s obvious you’re going to play favorites with him.”

Anakin doesn’t snap back because she’ll be dead in a few days. Though she really shouldn’t use that tone with Obi-Wan.

“I’m not playing favorites,” Obi-Wan insists. “I don’t have favorites.”

“You literally just wiped sauce off his mouth with your finger,” the girl points out. “And then he licked it!”

Anakin smirks at her. Of course Obi-Wan has favorites. Of course Anakin is Obi-Wan’s favorite. It took him years to wear down Obi-Wan until he allowed him this close, and years after that until he finally got to kiss him for the first time, just a few months ago.

If she thinks he’s going to give up any of his Obi-Wan time so she can get her hopes up about not dying in a few days, she’s got another thing coming.

But Obi-Wan shifts away from him and he looks guilty.

If Anakin could get away with killing the other person from his district, he would. But it’d probably make Obi-Wan sad.

“Is whining part of your strategy?” he asks waspishly instead. “I don’t think it’ll make you many allies.”

She has the nerve to look offended.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan chides. Underneath the table, he squeezes his knee.

“Everyone in the district knows about you two,” she glares at him. “You haven’t exactly kept it a secret.”

Anakin hasn’t exactly tried to keep it a secret. The first night Obi-Wan had kissed him, he went straight home and told his mother, his neighbor, his schoolmates, his cat, and his ex-girlfriend.

(No one had been surprised, except maybe the cat.)

“It’s not fair,” she cries. “Who can I talk to to get a different mentor for me?”

“The ethics board,” Anakin smiles, all teeth, settling back into his seat and slinging an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, this time more exasperatedly. “Robin, I promise I will be the best mentor you can ask for. It is my wish to see you survive as long as possible in the next few weeks.”

The girl jumps to her feet in outrage. “You can’t even say you want me to win!” she yells. There are tears at the corners of her eyes. If she were a little less annoying, Anakin would feel quite bad for her. Obviously Obi-Wan doesn’t want her to win. Anakin’s right here.

She storms out of the train compartment, her face in her hands. Anakin barely waits for the door to close before he’s slipping into Obi-Wan’s lap and throwing his arms around his neck with a groan. “God, I thought she’d never leave.”

He isn’t pushed away. Obi-Wan must realize they only have a handful of days left to be together before he goes into the arena.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says wearily, even as his arms encircle his waist.

Anakin presses a kiss to his nose and then another to his cheek. “It’s alright to have favorites, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs. “And she should know there’s no way she’s winning anything. Don’t waste your time.”

“I will do everything I can to make sure she survives as long as possible,” Obi-Wan repeats. “I don’t think I can survive anything else.”

Obi-Wan’s voice sounds shaky, so Anakin presses their lips together. Best not to talk for awhile.

------

“We should discuss strategy,” Obi-Wan says later that night through frantic kisses. “Sponsors, story, training--”

“I have a strategy,” Anakin murmurs back as he moves further down the bed, rucking up his partner’s shirt. “Win.”

----

“You look absolutely radiant,” Anakin tells the girl in an undertone while they’re in line for their interviews. She turns around to glare at him. The designer for their district has gone for the typical fish designs that people always associate with District Four, and they’ve dressed her up in a shimmering iridescent gown that flares at the ends like a fish’s tail.

Anakin’s own outfit is mostly a fishing net draped over one shoulder and a pair of tight pants. The designer, much to Obi-Wan’s embarrassment and Anakin’s satisfaction, had taken one look at his shirtless chest and decided to dress him in as little clothes as possible.

“Weird braid,” is all she says.

Obi-Wan had done it late last night when both of them had tired each other out and Anakin had curled up on his chest. After his Games, Obi-Wan’s hands like to do something. The repetitive motion of braiding and unbraiding Anakin’s hair soothes his demons.

It’s one of the reasons Anakin’s grown it out to his shoulders, much longer than is practical for his district.

Obi-Wan had gone to unbraid it, and Anakin had stopped him. He wanted to keep it. To wear it into the Games.

“Thank you,” he says generously. “I saw your score. 7’s not too bad.”

She sneers at him. “Did you celebrate your 11 with your boyfriend?”

“Oh sorry,” he winces. “Did you hear us? I’m just so bad at biting my tongue when he does this thing with his.”

She scoffs in disgust and turns back around. “I hope he has to watch you die.”

Anakin glares at her back. He knows he can’t kill her himself. But there has to be a way to hurt her and her chances and still have plausible deniability.

When it’s her turn for an interview, she’s vapid and pretty. She laughs and touches the interviewer’s arm.

“I’ve never spent much time in District Four,” the interviewer says jovially. “But tell me, really. Is everyone there as beautiful as the people you keep sending us? I mean. Obi-Wan Kenobi, ladies and gentlemen, am I right?” The audience laughs and hollers. Anakin hates them all. “And now you, Robin, and Anakin Skywalker. Damn!”

Robin--Anakin needs to stop forgetting her name--giggles high in her throat. “It was a very, very enjoyable train ride up,” she says with a stupid wiggle of her eyebrows. “Just this side of too long.”

The audience loses it.

Anakin loses it.

He can’t believe she’s sitting there publicly suggesting that Anakin shares Obi-Wan with anyone. With her. The nerve.

The camera pans to Obi-Wan in the crowd, who looks shocked, embarrassed, and deeply troubled.

Anakin won’t let this stand. He just hopes Obi-Wan forgives him.

The interviewer greets him excitedly when he walks out, and Anakin gives him a sheepish sort of smile.

“Lady killer Skywalker!” the interviewer says. Anakin laughs along with him. “All the girls back home must have been heartbroken to see you leave.”

“But I’ve heard they love watching me go,” he jokes with a charming smile. If that girl--Robin--can do it, he can do it much better. “There’s really only one person for me though,” he murmurs, letting his smile die.

“Oh?” The interviewer asks, leaning forward with interest.

“But sometimes I wonder if they’re only using me for my body,” he says, casting his eyes down. “I love them. Heart and soul, everything I am. But when I told them, they just laughed.”

This is technically true. The first time Anakin had told Obi-Wan that he was in love with him, the older boy had laughed his confession off, saying he was too young to know what he wanted.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” the interviewer sighs theatrically. “So your plan is to win the Games and then win her heart when you get back home?”

Anakin makes himself look sad. Tragically sad. Like he can’t bear to go on.

“They came with me,” he says.

If the audience’s reaction to Robin’s fake confession was huge, its reaction to Anakin’s words is even bigger. Of course they think he’s talking about the girl. That’s exactly what Anakin had wanted. Now he’s the broken-hearted boy and she’s the vapid, self-absorbed bitch. She'll have a hard time finding sponsors now.

It’s very, very hard to hide his smile, a task made exponentially more hard when he sees Obi-Wan bury his face in his hands.

“It’s alright,” Anakin tells the interviewer, without taking his eyes off of Obi-Wan. “I’ll survive.”

#asks #hunger games au #anakin's a bit dark here lets be real i love writing him like that #his games are the quickest games for sure #he does lose his right arm #but he wins #and then moves in with obi-wan #and obi-wan kisses every mechanical finger of his hand before bed each night #anakins just so heartbroken over the death of the girl #that he leans on obi-wan to help in the aftermath #(the story he'll tell the capitol people)#thank god his friend obi-wan is such a strong rock in these times #he has to write the girl's name on his hand so he doesnt forget it #the capitol thinks its so he can carry a piece of her with him into the games #shes furious but how is she gonna set the record straight without admitting to lying herself?#she started it anakin was just finishing it #bitchy dark obsessed anakin my love #obi-wan would be just as obsessed remember #he spends anakins games avidly watching and worrying and going around trying to get sponsors for him #but like within 50 hours the games are over anakin won #obi-wans gotta call everyone back and be like 'um never mind haha'#prompt fill #obikin

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 3 years

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destiel, 2.4k, mild hurt/comfort, happy ending. for @wormstacheangel who wanted a fic with anemic!Cas <3

"Cas?"

Dean hears a flump from the direction of the bedroom right as he finishes shaving his left cheek. It takes him about five seconds from there to dashing out of the bathroom, sink hastily turned off and half of his neck still covered in white, wearing an expression of worry that doesn't quite go with the foam beard.

Cas seems to hold the same opinion because his face splits in a wide grin the moment Dean enters the room.

A grin almost distracting enough for Dean to not notice that Cas is back on the bed, and suddenly wearing a blanket.

Almost.

"Goddammit, Cas." He sighs, huffing as panic slips away to make room for exasperation. He walks up to the bed, sets about righting the blanket around Cas.

Cas lets him.

"I should've known -"

"- Dean, I forgot -"

"- you were going to ditch your meds the first night after I stop bugging you 'bout them." Dean mutters, ignoring Cas completely as he makes weak attempts at protesting when Dean tucks one corner of his blanket all the way round at the other side, effectively turning him into what he mentally likes to call a Cas-burrito.

He doesn't like to call it anything at the moment though, cause right now, it's just proof of how Cas doesn’t listen.

Friggin' ex-angel of the lord, billions of years old, with libraries worth of stories and history in his head — but taking his meds when they're supposed to be taken, he forgets.

"It wasn't on purpose." Cas insists in a small voice, and Dean shoots an annoyed look at him before stepping back, finally finished with the blanket routine.

If you could call it that.

Well, Dean does call it that.

Because it happened often enough times after Cas's return from the Empty, human as the day Dean was born, to prompt both a title, and a reason to investigate why in the first place.

And not a lot of road to cover from typing in Cas's symptoms in a search engine — headaches, spells of dizziness, fatigue and feeling cold in general (things Cas had dictated to Sam who was typing, while Dean seethed from the next chair at not having been priorly informed of most of those things that warrant being informed about) — to ending up at the conclusion of a few billion (but actually just the first four) results, just minutes after.

Cas had anemia.

(The doctor Dean took him to the very next day, and Sam's completed research on the Novaks' medical history by the time they got back, confirmed it.)

Now, as far as the Winchesters were concerned, that was practically a relief — especially since their next place to look would've been old, tired books of curses, and the meekest of those would've been several times more worrying than the awfullest case of anemia one could possibly get - and Cas's, thankfully, wasn't even that bad.

However, curses are reversible. Or at least, equally as destroyable as their curse-rs are — who, usually, tend to be pretty destroyable when it comes to Sam and Dean.

Mineral deficiencies, on the other hand, are neither.

So supplements it is, as the doctor said and then prescribed — or so it should have been anyways, except for how the love of Dean's life was a giant baby when it came to taking pills.

"Sure it wasn't." Dean rolls his eyes, continuing in his exaggerated 'Cas' voice. "You just forgot."

Cas squint-frowns at Dean with all the ferociousness of a tired, cold and anemic four-weeks-old human, and Dean perches next to him on the edge of their bed with a sigh, the exasperation wearing off too.

(If he hadn't already wrapped them up, this would've been about the time Dean would've taken Cas's hands in his own.)

"Cas," He says, softer now.

Truth be told, Dean can't imagine what it must be like to go from being a - a being, that can heal itself and everything else, to a human who gets shivery and lightheaded cause of things inside of him he can't even control.

It's got to be terrifying, and obviously awful, and Dean's proud of Cas for the way he's been handling all of it — but dammit he's supposed to do the things that make it easier.

Just like he's supposed to let Dean take care of him.

"Dean," Cas replies, looking sideways at him with most of the stubbornness melted from his expression as well. "I'm a little cold but it's okay. I'm fine." He says, like he can still tell exactly what Dean needs to hear.

What he needs Cas to be.

There's a pause and Dean looks down at his hands. He can't help his next question, it's been on his mind for some time.

"What about the first time you were human?"

Cas noticeably withdraws into himself on hearing him, and Dean feels immediately a pang of guilt. It may have gotten easier to read him since he became human, but an accidental display of emotion was still a novelty. (Being difficult to read was apparently more of a Cas trait than an angel feature.)

"What about it?"

"Shouldn't you, uh," Dean pauses. "Shouldn't you also have been anemic then?"

Cas turns away from him, slow enough that Dean knows he's not taken offense, deliberate enough that he's thinking.

He finally answers, facing the wall ten feet away instead of Dean.

"I guess I was."

"But," Dean frowns. "I thought you had no idea you had anemia until last week."

"Dean, I didn't even know there was anything wrong with me until last week." Cas returns, his tone steady. "And back when I was human for the first time, I didn't either, because I'd never known what healthy felt like before, so I had no idea if I was or wasn't it. Of course I knew in an objective sense, say, the ideal temperature of the human body, but the ordinary amount of chilly one should feel on the streets in winter, or how hard or easy falling asleep is supposed to be, I couldn't have told you."

"Oh."

"And I still wouldn't have been able to," Cas turns back to him. "Had you not been the one to point it out."

Dean scoffs.

All he'd done was ask why Cas had been shivering in the middle of the day. That was it. Honestly, how could he not have seen it sooner?

"So you just," Dean lets out, afraid of the answer. "You just thought the cold spells and the, uh," he falters. "The being tired all the time — you thought that was part of being human?"

Cas smiles wryly. "It is for a lot of people."

"But —"

"And it was, Dean, anemia or not, for a lot of the people I lived with back then."

Dean's stomach bottoms out. He knows Cas is right. Six years ago, he'd been living on the streets, living in a bus. Dean remembers him — homeless, cold, sleeping on the floor of a Gas 'N Sip in his only set of clothes, Cas. And he knows he's responsible for it — knows he deserves to be hated for it, and it messes with him everyday that Cas doesn't — but did Cas really not even know what Dean had done to him? What Dean had — and Jesus, he detests himself — made him go through?

"You really thought all of us were going through that," Dean blinks. "And none of us was saying a thing?"

Cas doesn't look away this time and Dean goes on.

"I mean, I know you put humanity on a pedestal it doesn't deserve, and you think we're all capable of things you're capable of, but Cas, I can't believe you associated being human with being cold and tired, and —" Dean scrubs his face with a hand. "Goddammit, Cas! How could I have let you go out there on your own when you — h-how did I not see it, and — and you should never have had to deal with it all alone, I should've —"

"Dean."

It's not until Cas interrupts him that he realizes he's been rambling. Ranting, really, because it's not fair that Cas only got to see the worst of humanity, and it's not fair that Cas was so used to feeling awful that he just figured everyone felt that way all the time. That Cas was all alone at a time Dean should've been there for him, should've been at his side, been there to make sure he was warm, and make sure he ate spinach and seafood and whatever the hell else is rich in iron — hell, Dean should've looked it up sooner — and Dean should've been able to tell that Cas was sick, even if Cas couldn't, because that's his job.

He hasn't felt this way in a while — this particularly familiar fear of failing Cas, and losing Cas, entwined horribly, returning to him; seeping back in through his skin, and settling on his bones like the vast sediments of guilt and loss he's been carrying for most of his life.

Cas is supposed to be okay, and Dean's supposed to make sure he is.

But so far as upto here, turns out Dean's just been failing in more ways than he'd even known.

"Dean," Cas repeats, pulling him out of his reverie with determination in his voice, and a hand on Dean's left arm, his blanket now hanging off of one shoulder.

Dean immediately reaches to make it right but Cas holds him right where he is. Physically and not-drowning-in-his-own-head wise, and he's the only one who can do that.

"You're not listening to me."

Shit, Cas had been speaking this entire time, hadn't he? "Sorry, I was -" Dean looks Cas in the face to apologize, and lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, cause thank god, Cas isn't that pale. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Cas smiles, and it's not lopsided anymore, it's just Cas.

(Dean wonders if he should try to mirror it.)

"I was just saying that now I know that that's not the only part of being human."

"What do you mean?"

"The pain and the suffering, Dean. That's not all." Cas says. "There's also love, and kindness, and worry of the non-lifethreatening kind that dissipates with a smile, and warmth."

Dean stares at him.

"And sure," Cas shrugs. "I knew those things before too — I've read books, I've watched you and Sam — but now I've felt them as humans do, for the very first time, so it's a different kind of knowing."

Cas takes Dean's hand in his, and Dean's the one who squeezes.

"I believe the human expression is 'knowing it in my bones'."

Dean lets out a strained laugh in spite of himself. "Dunno, man. I don't think that's exactly what that means."

"But I do know it in my bones." Cas says simply, and Dean's heart does that thing where it feels too big for his chest. How Cas could go through so much, and still be so full of kindness and good, is one of the mysteries of life Dean's never going to solve — but it doesn't stop him from falling a little bit harder every time it happens.

"You should've gotten to know it the last time too, Cas." Dean tells him, sighing again. "I'm just — I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Well, you are now." Cas tilts his head. "And I prefer the things I'm learning this time over the last time anyway, and I believe it's you who's always taught me that the present is what matters the most. I'm just glad you're here this time."

"And I'm not going anywhere." Dean squeezes their hands tighter, and Cas's smile grows. God, he deserves the world and he keeps settling for Dean, doesn't he — and Dean hates it, and loves it, and couldn't live without it. He puts his other hand on Cas's face, gloving his cheek. Cas leans closer.

"I love you."

Dean's throat constricts. "You're too good to me."

"I think that's the point."

Dean can't help but smile, and he really can't help the tears.

"I'm okay." Cas says, once more. "Are you?"

There's only one answer, and nothing to fight this time.

Dean closes the gap.

"I love you too."

It's not their first kiss, nor is it the first time they've ever said it — but it feels more significant than anything's felt before. It's more them, too — not sickly-sweet or angry and fighting, just them, coming around to the end of a hard talk, falling into each other's arms with an ease they reserve for each other only, and sinking into each other, slow and perfectly synced, like they're made for it.

When they pull back, a moment later, Dean leans his forehead against Cas's and licks his lips. Breathes.

"There's so much more to being human," he hears himself saying. "Than you'd ever find out just living here in the bunker with us."

"Dean," it's Cas's turn to sigh. "I've already found everything I need."

Dean's cheeks heat up. "I thought it was never too late to learn."

"It isn't." Cas leans back, hands falling back to his sides from where they were wrapped around Dean's neck. "But sometimes, practising old things is more important."

Dean immediately dissolves into laughter. "Yeah, no, great going. Call me old before you go to town practising on me."

Cas ignores him save a twinkle in his eyes. "And some things, I'd like us to learn together."

Dean grins.

"And some things," Cas concludes, with a wide smile. "Aren't taught anywhere else in the world."

"Yeah?"

Cas shrugs.

"Why so?"

"Well, rumor has it the teacher's afraid of flying."

Dean freezes for a moment, silent, and then snorts — because yeah, that's funny, Ha Ha, but okay, if Cas is fit enough to make jokes, then he's fit enough to take his meds now, and Dean tells him that gleefully, resulting in Cas's grin immediately turning upside down as he tries to scoot away from Dean, except Dean's kinda expecting it so he's prepared to launch himself on the bed if he has to — and he does have to, cause Dean might love him for his heart, and his courage, and his kindness, but remember how Cas is just a baby in a trenchcoat?

Yeah.

(And that is just a regular morning in the Winchester household.)

#destiel #destiel fic #angst with a happy ending #destiel kiss #deancas fluff #cas angst #well. minor angst.#long post #i really hope you like it Rubi <33 #it got considerably longer (and sadder in the middle) than i'd expected it to be?? but oh well :'))#nyrawyra #userpris #userdee #spncreatorsdaily #dean pov #kashmircastiel #friendshapedcastiel #rambleoncas #oh writing my writing

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raisinghellonstarbug · 3 years

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Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

#james acaster #james acaster fanfic #james acaster x reader #james acaster x you #original female character #original male character #original story #off menu #eventual romance #slow burn

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wasflypaw · 3 years

Text

Ok. Kinda tired of people's bad takes about c!Tubbo so here I go

"Why didn't he step down as President?" Is a question I see a lot. Tubbo was a FOUNDER of L'Manberg alongside Eret, Tommy and Wilbur and later Fundy who helped fight in the Revolutionary War. Eret was a traitor, Tommy and Wilbur didnt want to be president. Tubbo was then picked (By Wilbur) and obviously he'd feel an obligation to protect the nation he helped create, Tubbo loved L'Manberg too, yknow.

He was never corrupt, a tyrant or a dictator. He was adamant on keeping peace from day 1, telling Fundy and Quackity multiple times not to provoke Techno, whereas Quackity had The Butcher Army idea from day 1 of New L'Manberg even existing.

He exiled Tommy because there was literally nothing else to do - he'd tried other options and none of them worked. Dream had threatened to build Obsidian walls up to build height and have his friends patrol the walls to keep the L'Manbergians in. Tubbo didnt visit Tommy bc 1. Dream was telling him things were fine and 2. He didnt think Tommy wanted to see him

I don't necessarily agree with what the Butcher Army did (refer to my posts saying Techno didnt deserve to die regardless of what he did) but there's So many reasons why it happened

1. They didnt know Techno was retired. The last thing he did was threaten to blow L'Manberg up over and over and then he disappeared for 3 weeks. It's only reasonable for them to believe he's been plotting, especially considering theyd still be paranoid over what Dream threatened

2. He thought Philza had been conspiring With Technoblade (this was a miscommunication see my post about Philza's perspective he did Not know about the Wither skulls or anything) and kept him on House Arrest to keep them from seeing eachother, however didnt really have any power over Philza who broke his house arrest monitor and escaped without issue

3. Again, the last time Tubbo saw Technoblade was when he shot him with fireworks, called him an tyrant for being president for 2 minutes, released Withers on him n his friends and then left after threatening them. The way they went about it was Bad but they were tryna keep Techno from fucking up their nation, which Backfired as they didnt realize he had retired

4. Tubbo has no control over Quackity lol even if he's VP. Quackity may have said to Techno (while Tubbo wasnt around to hear) that monologue about not actually caring about The Withers and wanting to kill Techno but That Does Not Reflect Tubbo's Thoughts

I dont care much for Techno thinking he's a tyrant / dictator (from Techno's POV, his mindset, his paranoia and what he'd seen would obviously lead him to believe that) it's just the Fandom mimicking his words as arguments that frustrate me. There's more than 1 POV

"He tried shooting Philza" You really think that wouldve been a canon death. Really.

People came and left All the time. He was fine with Niki and Fundy leaving. Quackity, His Vice President, made Mexican L'Manberg nearby n was like "I'm president of this now" and he was like "okay :)" He didnt stop Philza escaping house arrest. He Refused to let Quackity execute Ranboo, bc Ranboo was innocent. Does that sound like a Dictator to you, genuinely?

Doomsday happened, Tubbo had to watch literally Everything he'd worked for, the country he helped create, get obliterated in front of him, and then he was compared to Schlatt by his friends. I think that's a pretty big consequence for his actions lmao

Now onto Snowchester. He created Snowchester to have a home (that Isnt a government) and created Nukes to protect said home (Techno had 50 Withers kept next to his house that is the Same Thing by the way)

Tubbo has EVERY RIGHT to be afraid of Techno. Techno helped Schlatt publicly executed him and despite forgiving him it was Still an incredibly traumatic event for him and he Still has trauma associated with Techno. The next time he saw Techno in canon was on November 16th, where he Told Him Directly L'Manberg might get into power, just for him to still shoot Tubbo later (with Fireworks Again) and release Withers. Tubbo had been told, AS he was decorating the festival, BY WILBUR that Wilbur would blow up the place and Techno would arrive with Withers afterwards. Tubbo has every right to believe (regardless of whether they were or not) that Techno and Wilbur worked together on November 16th (especially with the convenient timing. Dream reveals there's a traitor > Techno shoots Tubbo > Wilbur blows up L'Manberg > Techno does his speech and releases Withers) especially with Philza coming in shouting "Techno's the traitor, he has 8 Withers!" And then Doomsday.

Tubbo believes Techno is a threat because

1. He has proved if he sees something as a threat / a government, he will obliterate everything including pets and homes of people who didnt touch him (Ranboo, Ghostbur, Karl, etc. The Butcher Army werent the only members of L'Manberg yknow)

2. He knows Techno owes a favor to Dream and Techno was willingly working together with Dream on Doomsday to cause as much damage as possible. As far as Tubbo knows they're Friends

3. This is Tubbo's POV. He doesnt know Techno's just vibing in the arctic lmao

He has a literal toddler, a 3 year old to be exact, his son, living in the country that he needs to protect, and showing Techno his nukes and huge crater is a way of telling Techno "you hurt my home you will not get away with it, I am a threat to you". If I see "Tubbo shouldn't have shown him the nukes then???" one more time I swear,

I'm tired of typing now so have this

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jinnie-channie · 3 years

Text

The Definition of Intimacy

Notes: Not proofread!! Probably out of character(?). Probably choppy writing because this took me weeks, and it's still not long enough. Lol.

Chapter 3: The Intimacy of Fighting

Shin had never imagine that dating Kumiko would be easy. Most of the time he chases her as she helps her troublesome students. He never complains and he he would be lying if he says that he doesn't enjoy it too. Seeing her students finally realize her sincerity and passion to help them is always satisfying. Specially that Reita, who was so guilty after he pretended that they were caught by a gang, which ended up Kumiko getting beaten up after the gangsters threatened that they would hurt Reita. Luckily Shin followed her and called for back up. Shin of course was furious and worried as hell that Kumiko got hurt, but it was because of that incident that Kumiko finally accepted him and kissed him, in front of his former classmates and her students.

Shin despite looking aloof and nonchalant, knows that he is whipped and actually embraces it. Though he doubts that Kumiko knows it. The fact that he's training to become a yakuza lawyer is proof enough. And besides that, he listens to her rants, stories about her beloved students and her family. He never gets tired even if it takes hours. He does ridiculous things like watch endless yakuza movies with her, wearing fundoshi every year for that event and even go along with any ridiculous plan she comes up. He was actually even willing to give her up when Shinohara-san offered to take Kumiko to Hokkaido if it makes her happy.

But what he doesn't tolerate and absolutely hates is when Kumiko still treats him like her student, or wheb she treats him like a kid. Like when she listened to his dad about his future like he can't decide for himself when he was abducted by another yakuza princess. She had the audacity to confess to him that she would never love another then ignored him so that he would not be associated with the yakuza when he becomes a lawyer. Like he hadn't told her about his plan on becoming a yakuza lawyer. Still he chased after her, told her that he would always follow her. Except when he finally had enough.

"You should consider dating a normal girl." Kumiko randomly said, as they were in a lunch date in front of Shin's university. Kumiko shoved another spoon of cake on her mouth in nervousness as Shin only raised a brow at her. "I mean, a woman who's not a yakuza princess. Hell, have you even dated someone your own age?" She tried to reason through her full mouth.

"Yes I did." Shin paused, recalling a certain event back when was still in highschool. "One time, when I tried to forget you when Noda and others set me up back in highschool." Kumiko slammed her fist on the table. "See, you haven't tried seriously dating anyone aside from me, your teacher."

"Former teacher." Kumiko ignored his correction and continued. "What if you only haven't met anyone from your age, or not a yakuza princess, that you actually liked because of me? I might only be hindering you from finding your true love." Kumiko tried to hide her actual feelings by acting exagerratedly even standing up.

"Look, enough. What brought this on?" Shin asked, obviously pissed. Kumiko smiled meekly and sat down. "Uhm, I accidentally saw you talking to this pretty girl before you entered the cafe. You two looked good together. You even smiled!" Kumiko tried to smile.

"So you're jealous?" Shin smirked as Kumiko blushed. "No! I just thought that, what if you were too busy with me that you haven't even considered dating anyone else. You're still young and maybe I led you on?"

"Kumiko. Stop. I am in love with you. You did not lead me on. I chased you for years remember?" Kumiko saw how this is starting to affect Shin so she just nodded and smiled to let it go.

A few weeks later Shin couldn't help but feel that Kumiko has built a wall between them. Though she'a still the same passionate teacher that he has fallen in love with, he felt that she distanced herself after their talk last time. And this pissed him off. It wasn't like that he did not understand her feelings but he felt like she had disregarded his feelings and how he had shown her that he loves her countless of times through the years.

"Shin, look at that girl, isn't she the girl you talked to last time? Aren't you going to say hi to her?" Kumiko elbowed him continously as she talked. "You're finished, right? Come on, let's go." Before Kumiko could say that Shin haven't even touched his food, he had already walked away.

"Are you not going to stop talking like that? Do you think that I am that childish? That I am just here because I haven't looked for more?" Shin asked after a few minutes of silence as they walked home. "I am serious about it, Shin. I don't you to regret it. You won't be able to enjoy your your youth if you're stuck with me." Kumiko realized that Shin had stopped walking.

"You think I'm stuck with you or is this you thinking that you're stuck with me? I love you, Kumiko. I have said and showed that for years now. I have always chased you, always followed you to wherever or whatever you do." Shin's voice was shaking. This is the first time that Kumiko saw Shin hurt, and it hurts her too. She just doesn't know why she could not say anything.

"If that is not enough then maybe we should just break up." Shin waited for a few minutes for Kumiko's reply. But she didn't say anything so Shin just took it as an agreement and left.

"Yamaguchi-sensei!" Kumiko nearly jumped when Fujiwara-sensei shouted at her ear. "What?! What happened?!"

"Your class ended 30 minutes ago." Fujiwara eyed Kumiko's face, which is once again drawn by her students. "Oh, right." Kumiko absentmindedly gathered her papers some even falling. "I saw Sawada just now." Fujiwara finally connected the dots as she saw Kumiko flinch with the mention of Shin.

"You both have the same look. Like you just had a fight." Fujiwara decided to help her poor co-teacher who is now surprisingly on the verge of crying. "I thought Shin would actually be here since he's always following you, I expected that he would be here trying to make up with you."

"Shin. He actually broke up with me."

"He what?!" Noda suddenly barged in together with the rest of his group. "Oi, Yankumi what's happening?" Kuma asked as he placed his delivery down.

"Nothing's happening. What are you guys doing here?" Kumiko busied herself once again with her papers. "Shin ordered food for you. He said you might not have eaten yet." Kumiko finally stopped and looked at her former students who were looking at her concernedly.

"That guy. How is he going to find someone else if he's going to do this." Kumiko discreetly wiped a tear. Minami and Noda slowly backed away, scared to see her crying. "He told you that?" Fujiwara was surprised.

"No, I did. I told him to find someone his age or at least someone who is not a yakuza princess. But he never listen. He only does what he wants. What's the point of breaking up?" Kumiko sniffed and grabbed the ramen from Kuma's hand.

"You're both wrong and right." Everyone looked at Kuma. "He always does what you want specially if he knows it makes you. Same when he does what he wants, either he does it to make you happy or he knows it would be good for you. Now that you said what you said making him think this is actually what you want, what do you think he'll do?" Noda grabbed Minami's hand in anticipation.

"What happened to the Yankumi who said that she likes Shin most in the universe and that you would never love another. Would you be able to take it if he actually find someone else?"

"Kuma really went for the final blow." Minami whispered to Noda who nodded solemnly. Kumiko was not able to say anything but look at her ramen. "But don't you think he deserves better?" Never had anyone in that room saw her so vulnerable.

"Don't you think you should let Shin decide that? And if he still picks you, and you still think like that, shouldn't you just improve yourself then? That is what Shin deserves, I think." Noda answered, as Minami smile in agreement. Kumiko looked at the people who witnessed her relationship with Shin. "Was it just that easy? Was I only hurting him for nothing?"

"No, out of all the people who would understand what you're going through it would be Shin, you should just be honest with him." Minami finally talked.

"I think now's the time for you to return the favor and be the one to chase Shin. He would probably be still close-" before Fujiwara could finish Kumiko had already bolted.

"Oi, Kumiko." She almost tripped at the stairs when she realized that she had ran past Shin. "Shin!" Kumiko walked towards him.

"I- I was just looking for Kuma-" Kumiko cut him off by tiptoing to kiss him in the lips. "I'm sorry, Shin. I don't want you to find another woman. I was just scared that I was taking advantage of you, that I was being a hindrance, but all this time I was just insecure and scared. But if you already found another I will accept it." Shin looked at the crying Kumiko. "I did not break up with you because I wanted and planned to find someone else. I did that because I thought it is actually what you wanted. That you still saw me as your student and nothing more." He gently cupped her face and wiped away the tears.

"No. I never wanted that. From now on I am going to work hard to be a better me. So please, take me back?" Kumiko stared at Shin's dark eyes.

"Stupid, men are the ones supposed to talk like that." He smiled widely and pulled her once again for a kiss.

-----

People's expectations never bothered Shin, unless they mattered. Like today, facing another Kumichou of a yakuza clan who considers the Kuroda clan as a rival, with a slight wrong move a clan war could ensue. And as part of Shin's training as the next head, now that Kumiko and him are married, he was sent there together with Kyou-san.

"Is this skinny ass the next Kumichou of your clan?" With one look at Shin the buffoon laughed. "Watch your tongue, Monkey. This is the Young Master Red Lion." Kyou-san interfered with his laugh through gritted teeth.

"Ah, yes yes. The Young Master Red Lion." He guffawed once more but Shin doesn't even flinch.

"The one who's under his wife's skirt! Tending to house problems, you're basically a glorified house-husband!" Kyou-san's katana clicked as he gripped it tighter.

"And so?" Shin asked with a raised brow.

"Huh?"

"Kumiko's working hard as a teacher and is doing a great job with it, even your asshole of a son, who is in fact her student has become a better person than he was under your care. If training as the next head is considered as a househusband, then I am one. And hopefully I am doing at least an adequate job." Shin said seriously. "Oh of course you're doing a great job, Shin." Kyou-san, Shin, Monkey Kumichou and his bodyguards were all startled as they saw Kumiko wearing her battle kimono, who is heavily pregnant, marching teary eyed (mostly due to hormones) to her husband. Shin of course stood up and met his wife halfway, lightly blushing as she pecked his cheeks.

"Oh, please continue. I am just here as a moral support. And seeing as you have five bodyguards with you it is fair that my husband has at least two chaperone." Kumiko stared at the Kumichou challengingly, and even with her big belly she is every bit intimidating as she was before. Shin smirked proudly, not even bit embarassed that his wife is acting as his protector even holding her hand and kissing it, which surprised the Monkey-Kumichou even more. Not that Shin would allow his pregnant wife to actually fight, he did not train on how to fight while attending Todai for nothing.

"If we are done talking about my life, here are the properties of yours that are now owned by our family. As the family's lawyer I have ensured it was obtained legally. I won't bore you with details, so to just simplify everything, 90% of your family's properties are now owned by us. After you have tried to widen your territory, you have stretched your clan thin both in morality and physically that it was too easy to convince them. The 10% remaining is your private property though in a day or two you will recieve irresistible offer, from me of course. This meeting is just to inform you as your former people are now too happy with the new management to deal with you." Shin thoroughly enjoyed the dumstruck face of the man who was just insulting him minutes ago. And Kumiko was too proud and awed by Shin to even notice as the man dropped to his knees.

With the same grace and fierceness of the Kumichou of the Kuroda clan, Shin stood up and helped Kumiko stand. "P-please have pity, please spare us." Shin and Kumiko looked down at the pleading man.

"Kumichou-san, as a househusband I have lot's of things to do. Not only do I have to clean and do the laundry, I also have to cook for my hardworking wife. And as you can see it is nearly time for dinner. I have no time for pity, especially for those who take advantage of people. So see you when I claim those 10% of yours." With Shin's arm around Kumiko's waist they walked out of the room with their heads held up high while Kyou-san followed behind them teary eyed as the remaining people of the yakuza clan bowed to the future Kumichou of the Kuroda clan.

~~~~~~~~

Note: I really really think that Shin would be a proud househusband, taking care of the household (not just the family) like literally cook for Kumiko's bfast and bento. Breaking stereotypes and all that shit. And all that while being the Kumichou of the Kuroda clan.

#20yrs of gokusen #gokusen jdrama #gokusen manga #gokusen #gokusen fanfic #sawada shin #shinkumi #yankumi #yamaguchi kumiko #sawada x kumiko #sawada x yankumi #the definition of intimacy by jinnie #jinnie's fanfics

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

extra 1 for Tedious Joys, with thanks to all the suggestions from people engaged in the discussion on tumblr, your ideas were fantastic and I used all that I could fit in!

Before Lan Qiren left to attend the first discussion conference held after Nie Mingjue’s ascension to the position of Nie sect leader – a notion that still gave Lan Qiren a stomachache merely to think of it – Lao Nie made him promise three times over that he would keep an eye on his painfully earnest, straightforward eldest son and keep him from doing anything foolish.

“Of course I will,” Lan Qiren finally said, exasperated: any more nagging, and he was going to be late. When he’d thought to himself that he’d picked up a wife, he hadn’t really expected this part of it; if anything, he assumed he’d be the one doing the nagging. “You know perfectly well that he’s as dear to me as my nephews! I don’t know why you feel the need to even ask.”

“Your nephews have good self-control, a trait my Nie sect most definitively lacks,” Lao Nie said. “We’re all in agreement that it’s not yet time to challenge Hanhan. What if A-Jue forgets that and, I don’t know, punches him in the face?”

“He won’t,” Lan Qiren said. “He’s a good boy, your son; you’ve told him not to, so he won’t. Anyway, if it really comes to it, I won’t let him.”

Finally, Lao Nie let him leave, and Lan Qiren made his way to the Lotus Pier for the discussion conference. Nie Mingjue and his retinue had arrived shortly before he did, the circles under his eyes and the small signs of mourning he still wore making him look older than he ought to be; there was a scowl fixed on his face that did not disappear entirely even when he nodded to Lan Qiren, although it did soften a little.

Lan Qiren’s heart hurt for him. To manage an entire sect at fifteen – even with support, the pressures of it must be well-nigh unbearable, and it looked as though Nie Mingjue had started using his cultivation to get him through all the nights of missed sleep, as unwise as that approach was in the long term.

It was strange to go to the habitual meeting of the Great Sect leaders, the one they had with each other before they mixed with all the other sect leaders, and bow to Nie Mingjue as if to a peer, rather than to a junior.

Stranger still to see Wen Ruohan do the same, a mocking smile on his lips as he raised his head from the greeting.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he said, and there was almost some sense of satisfaction as he said the unfamiliar words – no one had had to use them when it was Lao Nie, of course. “I bid you welcome, as the newest member to the ranks of leadership among our Great Sects.”

Nie Mingjue did not respond with words the way he had when similar sentiments had been offered by others – no Please give me guidance here, though that was understandable given what the entire cultivation world knew he believed about Wen Ruohan – and contented himself by merely jerking his head again in a nod.

“Your father was a very involved member of our little group,” Wen Ruohan continued, and was he really going to offer Nie Mingjue his condolences for Lao Nie’s death? Propriety demanded he do so, but he’d never cared much for propriety, and given his actions it would be an offense to all sensibility. “One could hardly hope to match him in his passion and enthusiasm in all that he did. I look forward to seeing you...take his place.”

His eyes flickered over Nie Mingjue from head to toe, blatant in its unspoken unspeakable implication, even as Nie Mingjue’s eyes went round with disbelief.

A moment later, it ended up being Lan Qiren’s fist that found its way to Wen Ruohan’s face.

Luckily, Wen Ruohan found it funny - laughing at how he’d managed to break Lan sect discipline, rather than taking offense - and no war was started.

Whether that would last once Lan Qiren reported the substance of the conversation back to Lao Nie, however...

“You know,” Lan Qiren said, staring at the ceiling and wishing it would come down on top of him. “It’s very nice that you’re all such good friends.”

His nephews both bobbed their heads in a polite nod.

“I’m sure Mingjue and Huaisang greatly appreciate it.”

Another nod.

“However, they are now sect leader and sect heir, and we must treat them with the dignity that those positions require.”

A third nod. He was starting to wonder if they’d been replaced by dolls with loose necks.

“This is why they were assigned their very own rooms in our guest quarters, rather than spending their nights in yours.”

“Nie Huaisang will be lonely if he sleeps by himself,” Lan Wangji said, stubborn as ever. “My room is better.”

“Wangji. Yesterday, you chased Huaisang up two separate hills with your sword, sat on him, made him cry, and then wouldn’t let him up until he admitted you were superior in every respect.”

Lan Wangji smiled briefly, a rare and beautiful sight that warmed the heart. “Mm. Deserved it.”

Lan Qiren flailed a little. “Wangji, do you even like him?”

“No.”

“Then why do you care where he sleeps?”

“If he sleeps badly, he will do even worse than he already does,” Lan Wangji said. “Someone might make fun of him.”

“…and what happens then?”

“Bite.”

“Wangji! We’ve discussed this, no biting people. Not even if they’re making fun of your friend!”

Lan Wangji nodded in a way that suggested he was only being agreeable so that Lan Qiren stopped insisting on silly things like Nie Huaisang getting his own bedroom instead of sleeping on the spare bed in Lan Wangji’s and not actually agreeing in the slightest.

They were still working on the biting thing.

Giving up, Lan Qiren turned his gaze to his older nephew.

Lan Xichen squirmed. “…sometimes I go to stay in his rooms instead?”

“You’re not even planning on coming up with an excuse?”

“Lying is forbidden, uncle.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose.

“For this sort of thing, you go to your eldest uncle,” Lan Qiren said flatly, and after a moment of contemplation, Lan Wangji conceded that he had a point.

After all, Lao Nie had been married several times, presumably intentionally, whereas Lan Qiren had ended up with a wife through circumstance and luck.

Lao Nie was a very good wife, though, even if for some reason Lan Wangji was required to refer to him as eldest uncle rather than calling him aunt – though that was mostly his uncle’s preference. Lao Nie thought being called auntie was hilarious.

In retrospect, though, Lao Nie’s tendency to think things were hilarious was a lot less endearing when it was aimed at him.

“Just tell him you like him,” Lao Nie suggested, as if that wasn’t the most ridiculous Nie sect style advice possible. “Tell him you want to spend more time with him.”

Lan Wangji shook his head firmly.

“How is this Wei Wuxian supposed to figure it out, then?”

He wouldn’t. Obviously. The question was how to get rid of the feelings, not how to actually let Wei Wuxian know that they existed.

“I don’t know, I find sex works really well to deal with repressed emotions associated with pining.”

Lan Wangji wanted to die.

Or possibly find and bully Nie Huaisang the way he used to when he was a kid. Not that he would, of course, he was above that, and also Nie Huaisang was really good at getting revenge and he couldn’t risk that happening where Wei Wuxian might see.

“Sex is not a valid solution in all cases,” Lan Wangji’s uncle interjected.

“Ah, Qiren, Qiren. Are you still holding Hanhan against me?”

“Yes, I am. He tried to kill you.”

“So?” Lao Nie shrugged. “That describes basically everyone I ever slept with.”

“Have you ever considered that that may be part of your problem?”

“Don’t act like I’m the only one! Look at Wangji here; the first thing he noticed about this Wei Wuxian character was his excellent fighting skills – a moonlight duel on the rooftops, how romantic –”

“You don’t know what romance is –”

Lan Wangji was just going to go back to his unrequited pining.

It couldn’t be worse than having to listen to this argument again.

Lan Wangji was fighting frantically, but he already knew his sword would not be sufficient.

They were going to burn the library.

All those precious books..!

His uncle had already sent Lan Xichen away with the most important ones, but Lan Wangji didn’t want to lose any of them. These books had been his friends growing up, the source of his strength and the consolation in his loneliness – their pages bore silent witness to his childish tears, the imprints of his dirty fingerprints, the good times and the bad. There were books he had thumbed through a thousand times until he knew them down to the last idiosyncratic quiver in their calligraphy and books he had not yet acquainted himself with, had only seen on the shelves and thought one day. To lose them now, old friend and future friend alike, would be to break his heart.

There was a sound behind him and he spun, already tired, exhausted, and it was Wen Xu behind him, the leader of the invading Wen sect cultivators himself. He was smiling so cruelly, holding a fire talisman aloft like a flare, knowing that Lan Wangji wouldn’t make it in time to stop him –

A hand wrapped itself around Wen Xu’s wrist from behind, freezing the motion.

Freezing not just him, but all the Wen cultivators around him, each one of their faces twisting in horror as they realized that a cultivator dressed in astere mourning white that might be mistaken for the colors of the Lan sect had managed to get through their forces to stand at their master’s side, even if his hands were empty of any weapon.

Their horror quickly turned to agony, and then nothing at all, as the reconstituted Jiwei flew through the air, battering through their swords with overwhelming force and piercing their bodies, as vicious and free as if she were alive – there was nothing that quite compared to the Nie sect’s fierce sabers when unleashed at the beck and call of their masters, a weapon against which regular spiritual weapons had difficulty holding up.

With their bodies fell their fire talismans, their flares, and suddenly Lan Wangji felt hope thudding in his chest: one man could not change the tide of war, but he could change the course of a single battle, especially if he could convince Wen Xu to order a retreat.

If Wen Xu ordered a retreat now –

The library would survive.

“Tell Hanhan that Lao Nie said ‘hello’,” Lao Nie said in Wen Xu’s ear – his face was as pale as a ghost in the fire and moonlight, his lips red as blood and his smile full of viciousness like a slash across his face –and with a single twist he snapped the bone of Wen Xu’s wrist.

“It really isn’t me!” Wei Wuxian protested. “For one thing, didn’t the sightings of old Sect Leader Nie start before I took up demonic cultivation?”

“I don’t think it was you that did it,” Nie Mingjue said, not for the first time. His eyes kept flickering around the room as if seeking help, and his expression, to those that did not know him well, was stormy; Wei Wuxian saw this and clearly panicked, continuing to try to explain.

To those that did know Nie Mingjue well, it was immediately obvious that he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Lan Xichen sympathized.

It wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault that it served their purposes for the moment to have it be thought that Lao Nie was a spectre arisen from his grave in search of personal vengeance on Wen Ruohan – it was certainly causing Wen Ruohan no end of agony, judging by the way his strategy got a lot less rational and a lot more frenzied whenever Lao Nie put in an appearance – and if he was even slightly more discreet a personality, they would have simply brought him in on the secret already.

They were planning to – Lan Wangji had insisted, looking pained on his secret beloved’s behalf (secret in the sense that Wei Wuxian didn’t know about it, not secret in the sense that everyone else in their small family knew about it) – but they hadn’t had a chance. Lao Nie had insisted on being there to make things clear, since apparently he’d accidentally-on-purpose bumped into Wei Wuxian a few times in the Cloud Recesses while masquerading as a Lan sect elder so that he could evaluate his nephew-by-proxy’s crush, and he hadn’t yet arrived.

Which led to the current situation of Wei Wuxian being earnest and Nie Mingjue attempting to send mental smoke signals to Nie Huaisang in an effort to have the latter rescue him.

To no one’s surprise, Nie Huaisang was being no help at all.

In fact, his occasional well-timed sobs of “Wei-xiong! I thought we were friends! My father’s corpse! How could you?!” were in fact making things notably worse.

“I didn’t! I really didn’t!” Wei Wuxian yowled.

Lan Xichen was not going to laugh.

He wasn’t.

“And who’s to say the Yiling Patriarch won’t try to take charge of the Nie sect, too..?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m actually alive,” Lao Nie said loudly, and Lan Xichen flinched at first before relaxing. He’d forgotten, somehow, that Lao Nie had been the most shameless member of the last generation; it was no surprise that he, who could be as blunt as his son when he wanted to be, would address the whispered rumors drifting around them directly and without pretense. “Wei Wuxian may be a demonic cultivator who created a conscious fierce corpse, but no one has yet suggested with any plausibility that his abilities extend to living people who were just in hiding – which is a good thing, given how many people here would fall into that categorization.”

There was an awkward silence.

Sect Leader Jin coughed. “No one is suggesting that you’re Wei Wuxian’s puppet, Lao Nie,” he said, even though someone had very clearly been suggesting exactly that and if anyone believed that they had done so within Sect Leader Jin’s home without his knowledge then Lan Xichen was worried about what else they’d be willing to believe. “We’re merely expressing concern regarding his increasingly reckless actions – and on behalf of the Wen sect, no less! Especially with him having custody of such a powerful tool as the Tiger Seal, it is a little suspicious…”

“Wait, are you suggesting that you think Wei Wuxian has been possessed?” Lao Nie said. “By Hanhan? That’s ridiculous; they’re nothing alike. Wei Wuxian attended the hunt at Phoenix Mountain and didn’t hit on me once, there’s no way Hanhan is possessing him.”

Sect Leader Jin’s eye twitched.

Lan Xichen did not smile, but it was a challenge. Truly there was no one quite like Lao Nie when he was in full swing.

“Still, if people are having that sort of nonsense float around, I think it makes perfect sense for me to go check up on him to see how he’s doing,” Lao Nie continued. “I’m a respected member of the previous generation, and no one knows Hanhan better than me. Better still, I’ll take Qiren with me; we’ll make a holiday of it – it’s the least we deserve, really, now that we’re both retired sect leaders.”

“I suppose it would be more appropriate to send someone removed from active politics,” Lan Qiren said, voice a little toneless and neutral as always. “That would allow us to avoid any unfortunate implications that other sects were seeking to utilize the bad reputation of demonic cultivation to extract the Tiger Seal for their own purposes.”

Lan Xichen’s uncle was a renowned teacher, but equally well known for his inability to read the subtle nuances in social situations – no one else could have gotten away with just saying that when everyone was painfully aware that it was the subtext of Sect Leader Jin’s actions.

Though, actually, it was possible his uncle just hadn’t realized it was, in fact, meant to be subtext.

“I think that makes perfect sense,” Lan Xichen interjected before Sect Leader Jin – or Jin Guangyao, for that matter – could say anything. His sworn brother had never entirely forgiven Lao Nie for showing up at the last possible moment to murder Wen Ruohan personally before he could claim his head himself, even though the fame he had won for being their spy had still been sufficient to get him a spot in the Jin family, and as a result he was inclined to use his clever tongue to oppose Lao Nie just because he could. “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Wuxian is a member of your sect, and therefore you have primary charge of him. Would you be willing to take Lao Nie and my uncle with you when you go to see him to act as impartial judges?”

“But I don’t want to be a third wheel on their old people sex honeymoon!” Jiang Cheng blurted out.

There was another moment of silence, and then Lao Nie burst out in howling laughter.

Nie Mingjue followed suit only an instant behind him, and of course once Nie Mingjue was laughing then there was no hope for Lan Xichen; he’d never been able to resist Nie Mingjue’s laughter, so rare after he’d become sect leader. Within moments, the tense atmosphere Sect Leader Jin had so carefully cultivated had been utterly shattered and the entire room was sobbing with hilarity, excluding only Lan Qiren who was scowling at all of them and Lan Wangji whose laughter was entirely in the way his eyes were crinkled in the corners.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Qiren said icily as his former student cowered in front of him. “I will have you know that Lao Nie and I are not in a sexual relationship –”

“Wait, you’re not?” Sect Leader Jin blurted out, clearly despite himself, and that just set the whole room off again.

“Welcome to the Unclean Realm,” Lao Nie said.

“Since when do former sect leaders act to greet people at the door?” Wei Wuxian said, grinning at him: they had gotten on splendidly ever since the whole ‘did I resurrect you from the dead by accident’ question had resolved, and Lao Nie helping him out of the tough spot with the Wen sect by arranging his marriage to Lan Wangji had sealed his approval of him forever.

That was why he was arriving with the Lan sect delegation, after all, although Jiang Cheng had kicked his heels around at the entrance in order to ambush him – he wanted to ask some questions about Jiang Yanli’s upcoming wedding plans – and of course the Jin sect had gotten suspicious that they were up to something and waited as well so they were now coming in as one big group.

At least it gave Lan Xichen some time to chat with Jin Guangyao, who seemed much happier to be spending time away from the rest of his family; based on what he’d overheard of their conversation, they were scheming to get Nie Mingjue to relax a bit more and let his father temporarily take up sect leader duties again now that he and Lan Qiren were spending half the year at the Unclean Realm.

“I’m on punishment duty,” Lao Nie said, looking delighted by it.

Which, hey, seemed weird, but based on everything Lan Wangji had told him about the former sect leader Nie (and his own mysterious ‘eldest uncle’, as he’d been known while he was at the Lan sect) and his former exploits, it seemed very in character for the man. And, well, Wei Wuxian wasn’t really in any position to throw stones…

“Eldest Uncle,” Lan Xichen said, looking over. “Did you do something to irritate Uncle again?”

“I didn’t! It was something different, actually, which I’m not at liberty to disclose to you.”

Oh, now Wei Wuxian was curious, and so was everyone else – Jiang Cheng sent him a ‘you don’t have shame, why don’t you ask’ sort of look at once – and since he did not, in fact, have shame, he asked, “Are you sure? What could it possibly be that you did?”

“Oh, Xiao Nie knows what he did,” an old woman in Nie sect colors said as she passed by. “And he’s going to stand there until he admits that he was wrong.”

“I’ll be here until I collapse,” Lao Nie explained proudly, but by that point everyone had stopped caring about whatever new thing he’d done in light of the newest twist.

“Did she just call you Xiao Nie?” Jiang Cheng said, sounding betrayed.

“…yes? She’s my great-grandaunt, she can call me anything she likes?”

“It’s just wrong,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Isn’t it just wrong?”

“It is a bit wrong,” Jin Zixuan said, looking perturbed.

“Very wrong, even,” Lan Xichen said. “I didn’t know anyone did that.”

“No one does,” Lao Nie said. “Now stop gossiping and go inside already!”

“They say married couples start to act like each other,” Wei Wuxian said to Lan Wangji, who looked amused. “There really seems to be some truth to it – do you think he’ll start reciting Lan sect rules next? Ooh, or musical cultivation?”

Finding out that Lan Qiren was apparently the musical cultivation equivalent of a mad scientist in his spare time had been the happiest moment in Wei Wuxian’s life.

“Just wait until you see what Uncle is like when he’s drunk,” Lan Wangji said, and stop. What?

That was a thing?

Wei Wuxian had to make that happen right away.

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #lan xichen #lan wangji #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #tedious joys #extras #yes it's extra no 1 #because there is a second extra #with a very different tone #also to be posted today but later in the afternoon

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