#Rushed as shit sadly- sorry for the odd shading.

[callmefaceache]

46 Years Young. Merry Birthmas, Stu

[hobilluvvr]

lost ocean troubles | 2

college au! sub!armin x dom!reader

words - 2.7k

warnings - vomit, blood, mentions of abuse , injuries

parts - |

~

so incredibly sorry for this late update but testing season is approaching and I need to study sadly :/ this part is very rough with spelling errors and grammar but will be revised later !

please enjoy this update and constructive criticism is always welcomed :D . If you want to be added to the tag list please don’t hesitate to ask !

taglist - @haikyoonn @kenmas-nintendoswitch

~

The flowers had this magnificent pale blue color to them, the sun hitting them just at the right angle and the sage leaves accented the stem, the weight of the beautiful petals making the stem slightly wilt downwards .

this piqued armins interest, so much so that he walked towards them , feet trudding against the soft sand. As he comes close the overwhelming smell of coconut with a hint of sea saltseasalt overwhelmes his senses, his nose srunching up in question, the scent resembling of clean linen,a quite odd observation , even more so for a flower .

Just as he reaches to pick the flower up, the sun all of the sudden blazes furiously, the rays bouncing everywhere and blinding armin, now groaning as he squirms in abrupt discomfort. His feet dig at the sand … or what was the sand… the feeling of plush fabric instead meeting his skin, surrounding his body in comfort and warmth.

Snuggling further into this random source of heat, the sudden realization hits him. His eyes open the tiniest bit and he stops for a moment … this isnt the beach… in fact he’s laying on a bed… an unknown bed

At this his body jolts upward and armin frantically looks around his surroundings, the white pillows and the grey blanket not correlating in his mind as his. ‘This isnt my room’ the panic quickly sets in, quickly throwing the blanket aside and standing up abruptly which proves to be a grave mistake as a headache and the urge to vomit surges up his throat.

He clutches his stomach as he runs to the bathroom ,quickly kneeling over the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach, the acidity already making his throat burn angrily. The sound of quick footsteps echo the walls and he goes to turn his head towards the door when the second round of bile threatens to escape his throat.

His ingers clutch the toilet ,violently puking when a second presence is felt . armin feels someone kneel next to him and gently rub at his back

“Its okay , its okay ,let it all out “ you push his bangs away from his face while the other hand rubs at his back . armin lifts his head up ,groaning as he moves away from the toilet feeling his head throb way too violently.

You hand him the cup of water and pain killer you set down when you entered the bathroom

“Here take this, dont move too much . your head is most likely killing you” he takes the items and pops the pill in his mouth quickly downing it with the water. When he sets the cup down he looks at you ,eyes squinting, clearly confused

“Where am i ?”

You chuckle lightly, standing up and lean against the counter “you dont remember anything do you huh?” the boy sitting on the floor thinking ...

Suddenly armin visibly stiffens, his cheeks flushing “uh w-ww di-idnt do i-it ,rig-ght?” his eyes all of the sudden finding great interest on the floor tiles .

You give him a light smile and laugh even louder this time “no, no we didnt ,dont worry about that. Here cmon” you reach out a hand to lift him up off the floor

He takes your hand sheepishly ,shoulders relaxing in relief, his red cheeks calming down “ then what happened? Why am i here ?” he asks following you out of the bathroom and into the room.

You cringe at the events that happened the previous night and you wonder if you should tell him everything. You head over to your drawers and open them, turning your back to the stumbling boy “well you got extremely wasted and this creep saw that you were alone and he tried messing with you but i took care of it”

your hands clench harshly at the shirt you were holding thinking about the old fuck. God humans can be pieces of shit

“Oh.” armins bit his lip and he desperately tried to remember exactly what happened , your answer being quite vague , but this did nothing but make his head throb once again . wincing in pain he goes to lifts his hand up to hold his head when he notices the bandages around his wrists ‘what happened ?did i get injured ?’

After picking out what you needed , you turned to face him and you catch his line of sight , looking at his wrists . as if you heard what his thoughts you say “ the perv was being really aggressive towards you and he injured you quite badly but i brought you up to my apartment and fixed you up a bit “giving him a warm smile you hold out the clothes you had previously searched for

“ here , take this and clean your self up a bit then i can take you home, yeah ? you got a little bit of a stain forming on you “ you chuckle, head nodding towards the vomit on the shirt before walking out ,leaving him in the room alone

His eyes widen at your comment immediately rushing to the bathroom and sure enough his vomit is all over the shirt , the mirror reminding him of his earlier commotion . armin sighs in embarrassment ,blue eyes scanning his appearance, finally now knowing how much of a hot mess he looks like . he notices another bandage on his face, his cheek specifically , a bit of blood staining the white bandage along with another few scratches all over his face.

His finger traces around his facial injuries ‘wow, what exaclty happened last night ?’

He shakes his head , not wanting his head to pound again, instead just focusing his attention on the shirt you gave him noticing that it looks similar to the dirty one he is wearing currently.

‘Oh god …..dont tell me …. Im wearing her clothes ‘ the realization hits him and his ears turn an angry shade of red. ‘God how much more of a burden can he be to you ?’ he groans before closing the bathroom door

…

As soon as you close the door , your eyes land on a very dishevled eren leaving his room , hand shielding his squinting eyes away from the harsh sunlight “what happened ? i heard what sounded like someone vomiting” his morning voice rasping out, following you to the kitchen and sitting down on the kitchen bar stool

“Oh he woke up and well... , you know how hangovers are like “ you open the fridge , scanning the interior “wait why is the fridge empty ? i thought i told you it was your turn to go grocery shopping this time ? what happened ? “ you frown turning towards him, crossing your arms

Eren only yawns and stretches his body, not seeming to mind that you were glaring holes at him “dont you remember ? i couldnt go so you said we’d go together after we ate something yesterday but then you got too caught up fighting someone if i recall correctly ” he confidently said, fingers tapping at his chin , eyes meeting yours, glaring back.

You sigh giving up “ ahh yeah i remember now….” you take a quick glance around the kitchen and see nothing of nutritional value “ the hell are we going to eat then ? and why didnt you clean up the medical supplies from last night ?” you badger him looking at the medical supplies messily strewn all over the counter

Eren scrunches his face , hand running through his bedhair, still groggy from just waking up a few minutes ago “ we can always just doordash something” he picks up the bottle of rubbing alcohol remebering how you carried armin into the apartment when he passed out and set him on the couch leaving eren to tend to his wounds.

*

Just as armin was falling , passing out after just vomiting all over you , you quickly grab at his waist and preventing him from hitting his head on the floor . the stench of the vomit was awfully intense and you scrunch your nose trying to stop the smell from affecting you “ can you be any faster over there ? you tease seeing him struggle with the keys , his fumbling being weirdly endearing somehow

“Im trying , im trying. I swear this cold is messing me up or something “ he puffs out now fumbling with inserting the key right . you roll your eyes upon seeing this , giving a light chuckle before reaching a hand underneath the blonde boys legs and bringing them towards your chest, effectively lifting him up bridal style.

You walk into the apartment and set the boy softly onto the couch before looking down to the mess that your clothes are in , heading towards the bathroom “ hey eren could you patch him up for me ? i have to clean myself up before he’s not the only one with body fluids all over the floor.” you smirk

Eren scoffs “dont you go throwing up on me , you hear ? i just mopped the floors yesterday and im sure as hell not letting you mess my hard work up “ he hears your distant laugh down the hallway , before the sound of boots fade, leaving him alone with the boy

Eren looks at the boy slowly sliding down on the couch and ultimately sighs before going to the cabinet where all the medical supplies are stored. He opens it while lowly muttering “just cause my dad was a doctor and he taught me a few things doesnt mean i have to tend to everyones wounds “

Grabbing a few bandages and bandaids, and rubbing alcohol, he grabs a stool and places it in front of the boy. ‘Your injuries shouldnt be that bad ‘ he thinks before he lifts the boy and positions him upright. Immediately the sight of scarce blood and vomit greets erens eyes . eren winces in slight sympathy and disgust before he wipes armins face clean with the cloth he has in hand and disinfecting the wounds next

The rubbing alcohol stirred a reaction out of the blonde boy seeing as he squirmed in discomfort , the position he was put in faltering, falling into the nearest thing, which so happened to be erens chest, more specifically his neck

Eren was flustered ,not knowing what to do he freezes , his ears turning red upon feeling the shallow breath of the boy on, his sensitive neck . Eren looks down and he admires the peaceful features on the petite boy .’he looks so peaceful, pretty even ‘ eren stares for a bit before he snaps out of it and pushes the boy off his chest , tending to his wounds , doing what he first came to do.

*

“ i left the supplies out because i knew i would have to tend to your wounds too “ he gets up , walking to the other side of the bar, heading where you are

You squint your eyes in visible confusion “ my wounds ? what are you talking about ?” he scoffs rolling his eyes, “dont play dumb with me , you beat up someone to a bloody pulp and dont expect any damage to your hands, more specifically your damn knuckles ? “

He reaches down, grabbing your hand and lifting them up as to make a point “look at this “ you look down towards your hand and the sight of multi colored bruises,blood and even some open skin greets you.

“ you didnt let me tend to them yesterday so let me do it now “ you meet eyes and his are practically pleading you, but before you get to open your mouth to say anything, you hear rustling and you look behind eren to see what it is .

Armin is awkwardly standing there in the living room, the clean shirt you gave him reaching his knees , and the sweatpants a bit too baggy . you have to physically stop yourself from cooing , the sight being way too adorable for you to handle this early in the morning

Eren senses his presence as well , turning around , both of you guys forgetting about your previous conversation . you clear your throat, sensing some sort of tension in the room “ hey youre finally out ! i was going to make you something to eat but turns out the fridge is empty “ you rub your neck sheepishly , making a mental note to go grocery shopping asap .

Armins eyes widen at this , his hands extending and quickly shaking “ oh no no , please you dont have to, i dont want to be more of a bother than i already am ,” he shyly looks down at the floor , swinging his body , slightly nervous

You smile seeing his cute habit of not making eye contact, fetching your car keys off the wall “ well i bet youre missing your home right ? i can drive you home now if you want “ you also grab the plastic bag off the floor by the corridor

Armin seems to stiffen again , eren now chuckling , his hands stuffed in his sweatpants , noticing how the blonde boy seems way to nervous around you guys . armin looks at eren momentarily before he looks at the floor again ‘ how the hell do you guys look so good this early in the morning ‘ he thinks ‘ meanwhile here he is looking all messed up ‘

“I actually dont live too far away, i can walk home by myself “ armin lies straight out of his teeth , clearly not doing it well judging by the look of your face . youre not convinced seeing as the whole reason why he’s here in the first place was because he was wandering alone.

“ id feel much better knowing that someone is walking you home , i dont want a repeat of what happened yesterday .” you bite your lip, now staring more intensely at the boy in front of you

Armin mentally groans ‘ damn you and your kindness, why cant you get the hint that he doesnt want to hassle you any longer ?’

“Well um … “ he pauses, intensely thinking of a solution that doesnt involve him burdening you guys any further when he hears some shuffling and then someone handing a phone to him. Armin looks up and green eyes stare back at him

“Do you have anyone you can call ? a friend maybe to come pick you up ? “ eren suggests , reading right through the boy

“ o-oh y-yes i do umm thank you , for your phone i mean “ armin scrambles to take the phone and calls his roommate , knowing for sure she is freaking out about his whereabouts

He hands the phone back to eren and shuffles his feet “ luckily she is around the area and can pick me up in 5 minutes , i can wait outside …” you ponder for a second at this suggestions , before ultimately nodding

“Yeah sounds like a solid plan , okay , here take this bag before you head out “ you hand it over and armin looks at you and tilts his head slightly “ its your clothes from last night , i washed them and folded them , oh and your bag is also inside “ you explain while he peeks at the contents inside grief striking his face

‘How much exaclty did you do for him , he’s the worst guest ever in history , throwing up all over your bathroom ‘ he cringes at the thought. He's definitely gonna think about this experience at night,when he reminisces about all the embarrassing moments he's had in his lifetime

“Thank you guys so much for all youve done , i really do appreciate it “ armin rubs at his nape laughing out softly “ well i should get going “ he goes to the entrance, hand on the knob

“Yeah absolutely no problem , take care pretty boy ! “ you say waving , smiling brightly when you see his cheeks flush once more , eren just nodding goodbye . he waves a small goodbye before leaving , closing the door gently . sighing in relief when he got out.

Armin walks out into the street and sure enough there is his roommate , waiting and the look on her face looks not so pleasantly happy .he knows what is going to happen. he opens the car door ready to hear her badgering soon enough

“Look , mikasa , i can ex-” not so shortly as he begins his sentence, she yells out

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOUVE BEEN ? DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED SICK I WAS WHEN YOU DIDNT PICK UP MY MANY PHONE CALLS ? ARE THOSE BANDAGES IM SEEING? “ armin winced at her reprimations, slowly sinking further into the passenger seat as she kept rambling, knowing that he has to face her wrath for the whole drive home .

he still has no clue as to what exactly happened last night, the only thing he can do is hope his memories would come back soon and clear up his many questions

[winters-void]

A Real Father

relationship: Geralt x OC! Daughter (or reader)

a/n:  Requests are open! Thank you for reading!

warnings: abusive father (not geralt), minor character death, angst, fluff at the end, violence, mentions of blood. 

_____

Geralt found his heart pounding in his ears. He watched as the Striga fell to the ground, shriveling up and dying. It had curled around itself in a fetal position, protecting itself in it's final moments. He realized sadly that there was no saving this cursed being, anyone who knew anything was dead or 100's of miles away and before he found answers this whole town would be dead. It had almost killed half of them anyways.He'd already been paid so he needed to finish the job. As his potion wore off and he felt his eyes return to normal, he heard whimpering coming from one of the rooms and looked around confused.

As he walked around a corner and into a corridor he heard a young girls cries get louder and louder each passing second. "Mama!" A young voice squeaked. He entered the room from which the cries were coming from. A young girl was sobbing over the body of a woman who was presumably the mother she was crying out for. "Mama wake up!"

Geralt slowly entered, trying to not startle the girl as much as possible. The girl heard him and turned around quickly. "Sir! Help my mama! The king made us come in here, please help!" " Even from where he stood he knew there was no helping this girls mother."Still, he knelt down on the other side of her body and felt for a pulse. Already knowing the answer he sighed looking at the girl.

"I'm sorry." Geralt told her watching as the young girls eyes grew larger and filled with more tears. That's when the floodgates broke and the girl began to wail. Despite being the mere age of 6 the girl knew what his tone of voice and choice of words meant. He put a gentle hand on the girls back and she fell into his arms. "Why did the king make you come here?"

"My mama stole some bread to feed us." The girl whimpered into his chest. "We haven't eaten in days and he punished us."

Geralt felt his blood boil. He knew the king of this place was a no good piece of shit. He took a deep breath before helping the girl to her feet. "Where's your father?"

"Please don't make me go to him." She spoke, visible fear appearing on her face. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and the girl visibly flinched. It was that moment he noticed how underneath all the dirt and grime on her skin were bruises ranging in various shades of purple. On her neck there was a scar going up to her cheek and down to her collar bone. It was a shiny pink meaning it was fairly new and healing. "Please." She whimpered.

He felt his shoulders tense up and he looked up at the sky taking in a deep breath. He knew he'd never let this girl go back to her father, based off of the condition she was in now; starving, bruised and smaller than the average six year old he'd just be sending her to her death. Especially with her mother dead, this girl was surely about to receive every beating her mother would get.

"I won't." He spoke gruffly. "We should bury your mother. Then we'll figure out what to do with you."

The young girl nodded wiping away a tear before looking towards her mother. She was bloody and had some organs missing. She closed her eyes knowing this image of her mother would be engraved in her mind forever. She had protected her daughter with her dying breath from this Striga. Part of her blamed herself for them being here in the first place. The young girl had been complaining about being hungry for a long time. In an act of desperation her mother stole a loaf of bread and block of cheese. They'd been caught and the King sent them to be food for the Striga.

"Can it be under a tree?" The girl sniffled. "She'd always tell me stories under trees."

"Sure." He grunted, he hoisted the girls mother into his arms gently holding her in a bridal carry and led the girl outside. Roach was tied to a tree branch, gently he set the girls mother down and hoisted the girl onto roach. "I'll bury her. Roach will keep you company"

"Thank you-" The girl paused realizing she didn't know this silver-haired mans name.

"Geralt." He told her and she nodded.

"I'm Rielah" She told him. "Thank you for burying her."

Geralt only nodded and picked up her mother once more. He went a little ways away to a suitable tree and buried the girls mother in a peaceful place, he gently lowered her into the ground and covered her back up with dirt before placing a yellow flower on top of the fresh grave. When he returned back to the girl she was petting Roach's mane lazily. Looking back at her, her pale skin was streaked with red from her tears and her hair was disheveled.

The road was no place for a child, but possibly he could find somewhere that would take good care of her somewhere along the way. For now though, he supposed she could stay with him.

____

If someone had told him nearly a decade ago that he would be taking care of a teenage girl he would have laughed in their face. But now, watching as Rielah pouted in the booth of the tavern they were staying at he realized that she was technically his responsibility and had been for quite a while. It was quite obvious that the young girl had grown on him over time, and he loved her as he would his own daughter.

"Stop that." He mumbled sitting down next to her with a drink in his hand. The girl only glared at him before turning to face the bar again.

"Stop what?" She asked coyly.

"Pouting." Geralt scolded and Rielah only huffed again. "You're staying at the inn while I hunt this Selkimore."

"Fine." Rielah spoke adjusting herself so that her back was facing him. Ever since they had arrived in this dreadful little village Rielah had been off. She was moody and irritable and didn't seem to want to be left alone for more than a minute.

Ever since the girl had joined him on his journeys he'd made it clear that she would be safer wherever they were as far away from the monsters he was fighting as possible. When she was little he did his best to find someone to take care of her but it was blatantly obvious the girl had become his daughter and he didn't trust anyone when it came to her wellbeing. He watched as she picked at the meal he bought her and he shook his head.

"May I go back to the room then?" She asked

"As long as you stay put." Geralt said nodding and by the time he got the words out she was gone and rushing to their room at the inn. "Teenagers."

Rielah looked over her shoulder as she opened the door to their room, making sure no one had followed her and holding the dagger Geralt had given her for emergencies close to her chest. When she was inside the room safely, she locked the door quickly- debating on whether or not to push something in front of it. She decided against it, realizing she didn't want Geralt to question her motives as to why. She knew she'd been acting odd since they got here but this was the place she was born. She didn't want to run into her father; she'd heard some of the townspeople mentioning his name in passing and felt her blood run cold.

Geralt knew she was from around this general area, they'd met in a rundown castle where the Striga resided and they traveled on from there never really discussing her past unless it was about her mother. Even that was rare though. Their relationship didn't offer much speaking, sure he spoke to her more than most but they were both quiet natured people so it worked out. Most of their communication existed by body language. A raised eyebrow typically asked if one was okay and a gentle hand on the back told the other they were there.

After drawing the blinds and doing all the other precautionary measures Geralt had instilled from a young age she sat down on the bed and waited for Geralt's return. She felt as if she wouldn't get much sleep this night and decided to read one of the novels they had picked up for her on their adventures. Geralt realized she would need some form of entertainment while he was away on his hunts and taught her to read. It was an easy way for her to pass the time.

Hours passed and Rielah set down her book bored. She knew she should go to bed but she didn't want to let down her guard down if Geralt wasn't there. Part of her felt like her father had been watching them ever since they arrived. The scars he had left on her both physically and mentally from when she was a child were still left littering her thoughts and skin. She heard the doorknob begin to twist and sat up straight. Logic told her it was just Geralt seeing as she had locked it and he had the only key, but fear told her it was her biological father.

The door opened, daylight seeping in behind it and Geralt stepped in covered in the guts of a Selkimore and she wrinkled her nose. "You've got something right-" She hesitated before gesturing to his body "everywhere actually, and you smell."

"Nice to see you too Rielah." Geralt said with a grunt before walking to the tub full of bathwater. She scrunched her nose once more and turned around to give him so privacy. "There's some Oren's in my pouch. Go get some food we can eat in between villages and whatever else you'd like. I'll meet you out when I'm clean."

Rielah nodded, gulping slightly. She hadn't been alone here without Geralt other than last night in the room. This was different though, being in the village would be putting her into a vulnerable position if she ran into her father. Grabbing Geralt's pouch out of the saddle bag she grabbed her black cloak and pulled up the hood over her head. She walked through the village, remaining as unnoticeable as possible until she found a man selling bread and cheeses.

"How much for two loafs?" She asked. Bread typically got them a long way on the road. They could pair it with meat Geralt hunted and eat it alone.

"10 Oren" The man grumbled and she fished it out of her pocket, not letting the man how much she actually had in case he tried to raise the prices. She took the loafs of her choosing and handed the man the money. He took it and shoved it into his own pocket.

Turning around she noticed a woman selling some clothes. She thought back to Geralt coming back drenched in the Selkimore guts and blood and decided he'd probably need a new shirt. She saw a black long sleeve shirt and decided that one would do. Next to it she saw a handmade necklace with a purple stone attached to it. She knew she'd never be able to afford it but it was pretty to look at.

"It's a pretty gem." A man said from beside her causing her to jump.

"Yes, it is." She said backing away cautiously.

"Suitable for a girl like you." The man spoke. "Maybe to draw attention away from that ugly scar Rielah." Her blood ran cold at the usage of her name and her eyes grew wide. Geralt was the only one who should know her name here. She tried not to show it, but she was petrified. There was no need to guess who this man was, it was her father. The man she'd been doing her best to avoid. "I've been waiting for you to show your face. Without that dastardly Witcher."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." She told him playing dumb attempting to make her voice sound as normal and unwavering as possible. "I really should be on my way my f-"

"Your father?" He sneered coldly. "You're right I have been looking for you. Ever since you ran off a decade ago you little shit. It's time you return home."

The man grabbed her wrist and jerked it harshly. At that moment, the hood of her cloak fell off revealing her face. More importantly though, it revealed the scar he had left many years ago. It had healed nicely over the years but there was still a thin white line from the mark he had made. Looking at the girls face and the fear showing in her hazel eyes. She felt herself retreating to the tiny young child terrified of her father. The one before Geralt; who taught her that a father is supposed to love their daughter unconditionally even when they make it hard. Not beat them for no reason.

"Sir-" Rielah spoke trying to jerk her hand away from her father only for his grip to get tighter. "I really must get going."

"Theres really no denying it now Rielah." The man sneered. She didn't even know her fathers name. What kind of a father did that make him? "You've been gone for a long time, but I'd know that scar from anywhere. I oughta give you another one for being away for so long with that damn Witcher."

"Rielah!" A deep voice called out and her head whipped around, golden tufts of hair getting in her face as she noticed Geralt making his way through the crowd.

"Geralt!" She shrieked watching as he looked back and forth for the teenager. "Daddy!"

That was enough to get Geralt's heart pounding in his ears. The girl he cared for was shrieking his name in fear. Pushing through the crowd he spotted her golden hair, getting closer he noticed a man holding her wrist in a death grip.

"Quiet girl." He heard the man grunt as he tried to get her to budge and walk.

He reached around to his back where his sword was kept and drew it upon the man. "Get your hands off of her."

Noticing the sword, Rielah's birth father let go of her hand and she let tears fall as she ran behind her true father; Geralt who ushered her directly behind him.

"I believe you have what's mine Witcher" The man sneered. "You took my daughter from me, cost me nearly a fortune to replace her hands at the fields. I bet you killed my wife too."

"Your wife was killed protecting Rielah, who is no longer your daughter and hasn't been since the moment you first laid a hand on her." Geralt gritted out. "If all you're worried about is the profit she can bring you in the fields you're a sorry excuse of a father." Geralt said pressing his sword closer to the man's neck. "She's been my daughter for the past decade, and if you lay a hand on her ever again it will be the last time you touch anything." The man glared at her from her place behind the silver-haired Witcher and she shuddered underneath his gaze. "I suggest you move along."

Spitting on the pair, Rielah's father turned around and walked off and Rielah let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "So that's why you wanted to come on the hunt. This is your home."

Guiltily, Rielah nodded and Geralt clasped a hand on her shoulder. "I wanted to tell you, but-"

"You don't need to explain yourself little one." Geralt said fixing the girls cloak and stroking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I see no need to return to this disgusting place anyways."

"Thank you Geralt." She said wrapping him in a hug. Rarely did they ever show physical affection to another but she felt like a hug was in order. Geralt was tense but eventually let down his guard and hugged the girl back."You've always been my father."

"You've been my daughter for a long time Rielah," He told her as they began to walk to Roach. He helped her up before getting on behind her. "That man has never been your father, and I'll never hesitate to protect you and I sure as hell will never lay a hand on you."

She nodded, grabbing Roach's reigns and leaning back against Geralt to steady herself as they left the girls hometown. As they left, she didn't look back once knowing that place was never her home. Her home had always been on the road with Geralt and Roach. He'd always been her father. He'd been the one to raise her, teach her, feed her. Everything about him was what a father should be doing for their daughter.

"I love you Geralt." She whispered quietly.

"Hmmm." He grunted refraining towards their usual silence on the road. She knew that was his way of saying it back, it was their language. He knew her better than she knew herself at times. She stared at the road ahead, wondering where it would take them next.

[themrsackerman]

A Little Fall of Rain

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warning: Angst, violence, blood, death

You love him. It was all you needed to know.

It didn’t matter that he doesn’t feel the same way or that he ignores your gestures to show him how much you care. You were just grateful that he doesn’t bluntly shuts you down. Levi always thought it was just a silly childish infatuation, that you would soon grow out of it like most of his cadets ever did. You thought so too at first. But the more time you spend around him, the more reasons you find to fall inevitably deeper in love with the man.

Outside the stoic demeanor of the man hailed the Humanity’s Strongest soldier, he was actually a caring person. He has his own way of showing it. Its not entirely obvious most of the time, but if you look closely, if you get past the brash scolding and intimidating gazes, you will see how much he actually does care. Specially those under his squad.

You worked your ass off to improve in order to get in his squad. Driven by your admiration for the corporal and with Hange and Mike’s help, you were quick to master the combat and titan slaying. You gained rank over time and was soon able to fight along side Levi.

The captain himself would be lying if he say you did not impress him, because you do. You started out from this weak, clumsy recruit to someone Erwin handpicked to watch Levi’s back in most missions.By now, you had been with him to countless missions and one of the handful he trusts with his life.

You swallow hard and took one last look around you before the walls’ gate finally opens. Memorizing the faces of your companions and giving stiff nods of encouragement to those who meet your gaze. Expeditions always had your stomach turning no matter how many times you have gone out. Each time, fewer familiar face return; each time you lose someone you have come to know and love. 

You idly wonder when will this nightmare end, if this will ever end. You thought of the journey ahead and wonder if you’ll be able to come back to this confinement you call home. Commander Erwin stressed how important and dangerous this mission will be and you feel that in your bones now seeing the usual stoic face of your corporal so intense. Levi meets your gaze and he jerks his head to the side, signaling you to take you place beside him in the formation as the gates open fully. The grip you had on the lead rope tightens, turning your knuckles white as you urge your horse to move forward.

You have one mission. This is what you’ve trained for and this is the only way you can express your unconditional love for him. Protect him, at all cost.

It all went downhill so fast..

All around you, your comrades fell. Your ears were ringing, muffling the sounds of battle cries, anguished screaming and the world crumbling around you. Hot thick blood runs past your eye from a cut on your forehead which you wiped haphazardly as you push yourself off of the ground. You pushed a big breath into your lungs in effort to calm your racing heart, looking around wildly trying to locate the only person you could fathom to think of right now. 

“Captain Levi.” you mutter breathlessly, your stumbling turning into sprints to run after the man slaying titans left and right. The beast had titans swarm Levi and adrenaline rushes through you.You winced in pain, feeling parts of you that is surely either bruised or wounded. But you continue forward, grabbing a horse and racing forward to take your place behind your corporal.

“Watch out!!” you yell out of sheer panic, your own body moving to its own accord as you aim your odm gear on the nearest titan, abandoning your horse in order to get to Levi as fast as you could. Amidst the horde of titans commanded by the Beast titan, you lurch forward to slice of the grasping hand of titan threatening to capture the captain.

Levi couldn’t help but turn to look at the shrill of your voice, alerting him of the imminent danger he wasn’t able to foresee. It all happened so fast. One minute you were yards away from him, the next you were saving him from being grabbed and crushed by the titan chasing after him. Levi scowls, he’s being too careless, too blinded by his rage.

“Go Captain!" you assure him and gestured for him to keep going. Levi gave you a quick grateful nod and surges forward. You tried your best to keep up with him, eyes darting all around to make sure Levi makes it to the Beast titan and finally take down the bastard. You see and hear your comrades fall all around you, tears of rage and sorrow fills your eyes as you continue to forward.

Got to focus.

Got to watch his back.

Keep him safe no matter what.

Protect him at all cost.

At all cost.

Trailing him and taking down each titan he missed, you realize his gear is running out of gas. “Captain!” you yell, trying to get his attention. “Stop! You’re running out of gas!” You grunt as you try to keep up with him so that you’ll be able to catch him once he does run empty. Levi was too engrossed by rage, chasing after the beast that wiped out his fellow soldiers. “I promised him!” Levi screams, jaw clenching tight as he continues forward.

You see the last of the steam come out of his gear as Levi killed the last titan and your eyes widened. He’ll fall into the titan’s hands in front of him if you don’t do anything. So you put everything you have and thankfully reached Levi in just a nick of time. You wrap your arms around his torso and shielded him with your body as you both fall to the ground having no titan or trees around for your odm gear to latch on.

“NO!” Levi yells as he rolls to the ground after you caught him, glaring at the titan carrying the beast titan further away. The ground shakes underneath him as his fist slams down out of frustration. Levi’s eyes widened as he hears you coughing, realizing your presence. 

“Y/n?” he mutters, turning around only to find you lying on the ground.

“No, Y/n.” Levi shakes his head, rushing to your side. “It’s okay.” you say weakly, making an effort to smile up at him. Levi’s blood ran cold. This smile was different. It was unlike the warm ones you usually gave him. Your lips tremble as your breathing becomes shallow. And then you felt it. Warmth, spreading right below your ribcage.  

Blood trickles down from right below your left rib, soaking your uniform. Both you and Levi looked at your wound and saw the huge gash start to drench the lower half of your body with your own blood. You frowned as you placed a hand over the gash, feeling disappointed and ashamed. “I’m sorry, Captain.” you say, voice dropping to a whisper as you feel your strength slip.

“Shit.” Levi mutters breathlessly as he lifts your body from the ground. “Cadet, look at me.” he commands, holding you against his body as he inspects your wound closely.

Is this how I go out? Am I dying? You thought as you look up the blue sky above you. You grin, comforting yourself, I kept him safe, at least. And I get to die in his arms.

“Y/n!” Levi calls, giving your cheek gentle shakes until your eyes met his. Your eyes and mind were drifting off. All you know at the moment is that Levi is holding you in his arms and his beautiful face just inches away from yours. A bittersweet smile stretches your lips. You’ve always wanted this. And even if you only get to have it with the last few remaining breaths you have, you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

You winced when you feel him press his hand against the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Fuck, hold on.” he mutters, ripping his cloak off of his shoulders and pressing it over your wound. Levi then curses to himself as he checks your gear and realized you no longer have gas too.  He looks around wildly, where are his comrades? Have they all fallen too?

Levi inhales deeply and held you in a better position. “You’re going to be fine.” he says, but more to himself than to you. “Y/L/N, hey, look at me. You’ll be okay. Just hold on, Hange’s right on our tail they should be here soon.”

You watch his green cloak turn to an odd shade as your blood seeps through it. You sigh and smiled up at him, patting his trembling hand that he holds over your wound. You’ve worked in the infirmary long enough to know that this isn’t the type of wound you can just patch up. And as much as you’d refuse to believe, you doubt anyone else is coming to your rescue right now. You gave him an apologetic smile. “It’s okay, Captain. Don’t worry.” you say weakly and Levi felt his heart clench.

No, please. Not her too. He thinks idly, guilt and regret coursing thick in his veins. “It will be. Just hold on, I’ll look for-” he started to move but you grip his wrist with all the strength you have left and shake your head. “Just,” you swallow hard and search his bluish gray orbs, pleading “Can you just p-please, stay? With me? Until I-” you start to stammer, tears starting fill your eyes. “You and I both know I can't walk this out, Captain.” you say, smiling sadly.

Levi freezes as reality hits him. His usual stoic expression melting as he holds your face, nodding. “I won’t leave you.” he assures you and he felt his heart break at the way this mere statement lit up your entire face. Your smile is still as warm and beautiful even at the circumstance you’re currently in. The fact that this might be the last time he sees this makes his stomach turn. He tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, murmuring “I promise.” His voice cracking in the slightest.

“Thank you, Captain. And I’m sorry I failed you.” your brows furrow. Levi shakes his head vehemently, a dry laugh escaping his lips. “No way in hell, Y/n. You saved me countless times. I’m still standing because of you.” His brows furrow as he feels your breath get more shallow and saw the blood that had pooled beneath you.

“If there’s anyone here who failed, it was me. I failed to protect you.” Levi leans down and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry.” he whispers.

Your eyes drift close, you feel so tired. “I’d do it all over again for you.“ you say, voice barely above a whisper. You looked up at him and finally, you confessed.

“I love you, Captain Levi.”

Levi felt the air got knocked out off of him, realizing that deep down, in some sort of way, he does love you too. Maybe not in the same way as you do, but enough to feel his usually unfeeling heart tear in his chest. He loves you and he’s going to lose you. Just like he lost his Mom, Farlan and Isabella.

Levi sighs, forcing out a small smile as he held your face. He then leans in and gave you a kiss. Are you just dreaming this? You blinked and placed a hand against his cheek. It feels so real. You smile against his lips and tried to kiss him back. Levi’s face crumple in sorrow but he kept kissing you, tasting your salty tears. Or maybe they were his, tears of regret he swore he will never feel again but he does now.

As Levi pulls away, he wipes your tear-stained cheeks then kisses your nose and your forehead. “I know you do. And there is no one else who could have loved me the way that you did.” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. You smile and gave in, letting your eyes fall close again. Your body no longer feel heavy. You felt afloat. Like you’re in a dream. You feel his soft breaths tickle your cheek and his familiar scent brought you peace.

If this is a dream, yeah, you wouldn’t mind not waking up.

“If there is a life after this one, I'll make sure to find you. And find some sort of way to make it up to you.” he says sincerely, wiping the tears that escaped your closed eyes.

“I’d like that.” you whisper. Levi waits for you to open your eyes again, holding his own breath as he listens to yours.

But he didn’t get to see those e/c orbs again.

Levi watches your smile fade as he feels your hand falls limp against his hold. His heart shatters to pieces feeling that you’re truly no longer there anymore. Levi touches your face one last time, and sent you off with a last kiss on the forehead. Promising himself to make sure your sacrifice was not for naught as he reclaims his sword from the ground.

[thefanficmonster]

Some Fun

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder)

Warnings: Spoilers for HTGAWM Season 1&2, Swearing, Sleazy/Creepy Behavior, Mentions of Heartbreak, Alcohol

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: While the Keating 5 is out enjoying the first time they have been allowed to let loose in a long while, Michaela finds herself nursing a broken heart following the debacle with Levi. Sadly, heartbroken girls seem to be a magnet for sleazy guys at clubs.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Hope you had a great commencement ceremony, sending you my biggest congrats and hugs! Sorry you had to experience such an important event online and not IRL, but I still hope you got to make the most out of it and celebrated your success safely :) Hope you enjoy the fic as well hehe. Love, Vy ❤

“Girl, you weren’t even together for two weeks!“ Laurel says, handing Michaela her lipstick while the two fix their appearance in the bathroom they were happy to find empty at the club where they’re currently celebrating having avoided going to prison for the nth time. “I’m surprised you’re not over him already.“

“Honestly...“ Michaela trails off, pausing just as she’s about to apply the lipstick, “In two weeks, he made me feel more than Aiden ever did.“

Laurel rolls her eyes exasperatedly, “Either that or you got too attached too soon. No offense, you seem to have real shit taste in men.” Seeing the glare her friend is sending her in the reflection of the mirror, Laurel quickly defends herself, “I said no offense! Can you really say I’m wrong though?”

Michaela rolls her eyes, applying the nude shade of lipstick before gracing her friend with the reply she already knew she’d hear, “I can’t, you’re right. But that’s not helping my current situation in any way. So, care to share any helpful advice?” She turns to look directly at her with this strict and annoyed yet somehow still soft look in her eyes.

Laurel takes the lipstick from her and drops it in her purse, “There’s a bar out there with surprisingly cheap drinks and a ton of hot guys surrounding it. I’ll let you guess what I’m insinuating.”

Michaela’s face contorts in a displeased expression, “A hook-up with one of those lowlifes who waste their lives at underground bars like these? No thanks, I’d rather wallow in my sorrows.” She shakes her head with evident disgust and repulsion, her shoulders tensing at the mere thought of hooking up with anyone before seeing full info about said person. It’d be an understatement to say Levi only fueled her already existing trust issues that were already present even before Aiden. Laurel’s definitely right about one thing - all the ‘luck’ she’s had with guys throughout the years has led to these trust issues upon trust issues, creating a mountain-high pile of distrust.

“No, fuck no! I’m talking fun. Dancing, drinking, flirting and then going home alone, not with one of those assholes.“ Laurel explains, “See, that’s your problem, Michaela - you can’t just have fun with a guy and forget about him, can you?“ Michaela inhales sharply as though she’s about to snap a retort to shut her friend up, but she finds herself lacking words to say so she closes her mouth and clenches her jaw as her eyes wander around the white-tiled bathroom. Realizing she won’t be talked to hell, Laurel continues with a tad bit more caution this time, “Have you ever even tried to do that? Have fun and then dump a guy?“

Bracing herself to be laughed at and teased for her answer, Michaela bites her lower lip and shakes her head. It’d be a blatant lie if she said she had tried. Her and Aiden were high school sweethearts and she had never even gone on a date before meeting him. Following the break of their engagement, she threw herself into work and didn’t allow herself much partying or drinking out of fear she might start regretting the decision to call it all quits. Sober, she knew it was the right thing to do, so sober she stayed. And then she met Levi and fell for him almost immediately, distrust after Aiden be damned. So, in conclusion, this is her first time finding herself in a party setting in a very long while. Single and in a party setting, that is. Ok, single, heartbroken, and in a party setting. A perfect combination for getting drunk and letting loose. Laurel might have a point.

“In that case...“ She says, taking Michaela’s hand and giving her a mischievous smile, “Let’s break your ice.” She proceeds to drag her friend out of the bathroom and into the club where they get a friendly reminder of how loud the music really is. The bathroom must have one hell of sound isolation, considering the two girls nearly get deafened when stepping back onto the main and oud scene so abruptly.

The club is as crowded as it is loud and they have already lost sight of the male half of the Keating 5, but neither of the girls seem to care as they make their way to the bar, ordering themselves vodka shots which Laurel takes upon herself, winking at Michaela and mouthing the words, “My treat for your first time.”

Smirking, Michaela accepts the offered dose of alcohol, clinking the shot-glass against Laurel’s before they down their first of many shots for the night.  With each rush of vodka going down her throat, Michaela finds herself getting more and more relaxed, loosening up and she’s even starting to consider accepting the offer Laurel posed earlier about moving the party over to the dancefloor. The tipsy chat they’re having is lighthearted and fun, often swerving because of their inability to focus on one topic for too long without bursting out laughing.

Eventually, the two are interrupted by someone familiar but someone they weren’t expecting to see.

Michaela spots him first, “Frank? Who the hell invited you? Were you sent here to babysit us? We’ll pay you to leave if that’s the case.“ Yeah, after a few rounds of shots it’s safe to say she’s lost any kind of thought-to-speech filter and is being 100% honest which is quite amusing to observe.

At the mention of that name, Laurel whirls around in her bar stool, eyes wide when they meet Frank’s, “Wonderful, Annalise has sent her hitman to keep a watchful eye on us.“

Surprisingly unbothered by Laurel’s comment, he smiles, “Nice to see you too, Laurel. And no, I wasn’t sent by anyone. You just happen to be at a bar a buddy of mine owns. A bar I frequent too.” He explains, his claims backed up by the lack of his professional suit that has now been replaced by jeans and a button-down. He glances briefly at Laurel who has turned back around, downing her Margarita with frustration. His smile turns into a smirk as he points at her and turns to Michaela, “Is she bothering you? I can escort her away if she is.” He sends her a subtle wink, clearing up the message for her hazy brain to properly pick up on.

When it does, she returns the smirk right back at him, “Please do, she’s a real party-killer.”

Laurel turns to face her and Michaela can swear on all she’s ever owned she has never received such a betrayed and pissed-off look from anyone. It almost cracks her up to the point of laughter but she knows better than to fuel the the rage fire within her friend at the moment who has already hopped off the bar stool and is slowly being led through the crowd by the aforementioned ‘hitman’. Before she’s completely out of view though, she mouths a quick ‘I’ll kill you’ at her.

That manages to break Michaela down as she starts laughing, calling after her without any hope that she’ll be heard: “I won’t be your first.”

“You could be my first.“ An unfamiliar voice appears right next to her ear, startling her. 

She turns around and sees a guy, a stranger, smirking at her. Even in her drunken state she finds herself unwilling to enter a conversation with him. But then she hears Laurel’s words repeating in her mind, telling her to have fun.

Ok, I don’t really need to like the dude in order to have fun, do I? She thinks to herself, briefly contemplating the whole situation before finally replying.

“First what?“ Her voice has a friendly tone to it - friendly, but not quite flirty.

“First lady to dance with me tonight.“ The stranger replies, “If I play my cards right you may also be the only.“ He winks at her and she can’t help but find it more repulsive than appealing. She finds herself comparing him to Levi all of a sudden, despite the two having nothing in common at least appearance-wise.

In order to push those thoughts away she makes the rash move of offering him her hand, tilting her head towards the dancing crowd, “I don’t know. Let’s test that theory out, shall we?” She definitely sounds more confident than she feels but she’s prepared to do almost anything to get Levi and that whole ordeal out of her mind, so a quick dance with a stranger doesn’t seem like such a big deal.

Oh boy how quickly she regrets it.

The guy has no chill nor patience. He’s handsy right from the get-go: touching her inappropriately any opportunity he gets, grasping at the chance he’s been given seeing as how she has no escape and no room to get further away from him without bumping into other people dancing carelessly. However, when he starts grinding his hips against hers, she’s finally had enough planning her escape and instead chooses to act on impulse.

Looking around the unfamiliar faces for the odd chance she might spot someone familiar, she slowly inches further and further away from him, despite the fact she’s not able to put much distance with his hands on her waist, keeping her close to him. The alcohol seems to have evaporated from her system as she’s in critical survival mode, wanting nothing more than to leave the situation or maybe even the whole club for the night, finding it too uncomfortable to stick around after this event.

And then, like a literal miracle, she spots him and he has very clearly spotted her and is giving her this confused yet concerned frown.

That’s all she needed really. Pushing the stranger’s hands away, she pushes through the crowd, ignoring the people calling after her, calling her names for bumping into them or shoving them a little harder than intended.

“Connor, baby, how’s it going? You’re having fun?“ There’s a grin on her face, but her eyes are screaming ‘help me‘ at him. Something he clearly doesn’t pick up on because the frown of confusion remains mounted onto his face.

However, before Connor could reply, the creep has appeared next to her yet again, having followed after her from the spot they were dancing at, “Is this your boyfriend?“ He asks, not hiding how pissed and disappointed he is by the sudden emerging of Connor.

Michaela parts her lips to answer but Connor beats her to it, “Yeah, her boy space friend who has a boyfriend. And you are?“ He narrows his eyes, analyzing the guy’s face as much as he can in the dark, vaguely strobe-light illuminated club.

“Interested in the young lady.“ The creep smirks, giving Michaela a once-over look, taking in her body from head to toe with a gaze that makes her shiver with disgust.

Connor, thank God, picks up on this and takes a step forward so that he’s standing between the guy and Michaela, a serious and intimidating look on his face. “Well, she’s not interested in you. Go find someone willing to put up with your inappropriate and downright disgusting behavior.”

The creep laughs, his jaw clenching as he licks his lips, frustrated that things aren’t going the way he’d like, “Whatever. She’s a 4/10 anyway. A four who thinks she’s all that with her head in the clouds and playing eye-candy and then running away. I know her type quite well.” He shoots a look at her over Connor’s shoulder before turning around to walk away.

Michaela is not at all bothered by his words, she’s just glad he’s off her back. However, she can tell Connor is far from done with the case, seeing as how he takes a step to go after the guy and go off on him. To avoid further complications of what’s supposed to be a fun night after so much stressful shit in their lives, she quickly takes hold of his arm to stop him in his intentions.

“Connor, let it go, it’s ok. Let him be. Don’t waste your time and energy on a sleazy fucker like him.“ She tells him, gripping tightly on his bicep until he finally turns to look at her, seeming significantly calmer.

“But it’s not ok, Michaela. I was planning to leave.“ He says, his voice stern, “What if I had left? God knows how that asshole would’ve progressed his creepiness. Shit like that’s not ok and it’ll keep happening if fuckers like him aren’t put in their place.“

“There’s no putting them in their place. You think pep-talking him was gonna prevent him from doing the same to another girl in this very bar?“ She looks at him expectantly, knowing full-well she’s proved her point. When he sighs in defeat, she claims her win in the argument and changes the subject, “Also, leaving? Why?“

Connor shakes his head, grimacing as he motions at their surroundings, “All this, not really my scene. Plus I’m starving. There’s a Burger King down the street so yeah, that was gonna be my stop before going home. After all the crap we’ve been through, some of us might appreciate a little partying, but I’d rather have a quiet night in, you know? A fast-food-and-movie type of night.”

A genuine smile spreads across Michaela’s face. “Makes two of us. I prefer partying when I’m completely free from my worries. They just end up resurfacing after a couple drinks.“

Connor scoffs, returning her smile, “Who knew we could have more things in common than the need to be better than everyone else?” This comment actually manages to earn him a laugh from Michaela - something he rarely gets from her so he’s willing to hold onto it as a positive sign for the progression of their frenemy-ship. And so, he pushes his luck, “Wanna accompany me?”

Although surprised by the offer, Michaela feels the sudden urge to accept it without much thought. Even so, she decides to say: “As long as we’re not watching a rom-com, I’m in.”

Connor smirks, “You pick, boss.”

She rolls her eyes, “That’s the problem, I’ll pick a rom-com out of instinct. You know they’re one of the top five medicines for a heartbreak?”

He shakes his head, unamused, “No they’re not.“ He takes her arm by the wrist, guiding her through the crowd towards the exit, “Fast food is though“, he tells her, flashing her a quick smile over his shoulder as he adds, “And ice-cream. My treat.“

Once again left at a lack of words, Michaela just accepts what’s been offered to her. Never did she expect spending the night watching a movie with her main rival would be more appealing to her than partying under strobe-lights but here she is, leaving a club to head for Burger King with Connor and she doesn’t care enough to dwell on what that means for the constant war they’ve had between them. Guess it’s put on hold, but just for tonight.

Who knew wars could be paused by a fast meal and a movie? 

[2-cute-4-school]

He loved, he really did

Group : NCT

Pairing : Zhong Chenle x f!Reader

Genre : fluff, a pinch of angst? friends to lovers

Word count : 2500

M.list

If there was one thing Chenle just couldn’t understand about his best friend was how oblivious she could be sometimes. Not only did he hint at his crush over her more times than he could count ever since he realized his feelings, but also Jisung, his other best friend who never missed a chance at teasing both of them despite the girl’s confusion. Chenle couldn’t help but feel foolish more often than not, falling in love with Y/N, the kid who ate mud hoping it would taste like chocolate in kindergarten and demonstrated that she may be the only one who could keep up with his odd antics. But Y/N was also the fiercely loyal girl who stayed glued to his side even when Chenle himself believed he didn’t deserve someone like her, the only one who dared to stand up for Jisung when he used to get teased in elementary school because of his shy demeanor and nerdy tendencies, gaining everyone’s respect through her fearless defense over her newly found friend. And all these things made Y/N herself, the one who got Zhong Chenle to love her endlessly.

Chenle’s poor excuses of flirty pick-up lines were always quickly shoot down by even more quirky replies who brought out a faded shade of pink across Chenle’s cheeks. But Y/N never seemed affected by their exchanges which frustrated Chenle to no end, deflating his burst of confidence immediately. Jisung always insisted that Chenle’s attempts were too mild for someone like Y/N who tends to leave a strong impression on anyone accompanied by dropped jaws that almost touch the ground and catch flies. 

“So is the basketball match still one or are you going to pussy out last minute?”

Chenle sighed, dragging a hand over his face and tightening the grip he had on his phone. He loved her voice, he really did. It always emanated confidence and you couldn’t help but stop and listen to her words as the entire world seemed to revolve around her in those moments. But when remarks like that left her mouth, Chenle couldn’t help but want to desperately zip it shut.

“Yeah, Y/N, it’s still on, but don’t cry too much when I wipe the floor with your sorry ass.”

“Don’t worry about little ol’ me, big head. I’ll see you at the court at 6.”

And with that, the line went dead. Y/N never left things up for discussion and she never refused a challenge. Another thing that Chenle admired about her. His frustration with his lack of courage only grew even more with every time he fell in love again with her, making his desire to be able to call Y/N ‘his’ almost impossible to suppress.

Chenle complied with her firm demand and trudged towards the basketball court five minutes earlier. He knew from experience he shouldn’t allow Y/N any chance to take him by surprise for every time he did, she left him with an erratic heartbeat that he simply couldn’t control, mentally scolding his heart for betraying him and showing itself on his sleeve at Y/N’s mere gaze.

He fiddled with the ball, bouncing it from hand to hand, twirling it on his finger and stumbling once he caught sight of Y/N. He didn’t feel butterflies in his stomach or his throat closing up and cutting his breath short. No, he felt oddly at home, a warm feeling spreading through him, melting him inside out, dipping his lovesick heart in bittersweet honey.

“Ready to go cry under mommy’s skirt?”

There she goes again.

“I don’t know, Y/N, are you?”

Chenle was convinced this was the reason they could never have nice things.

“I mean, I can accompany you if you’re shy.”

He felt a few hairs fall off his head and he rolled his eyes so hard he could see what was left of his half fried brain.

“Less talking and more dribbling, Y/N.”

Another thing Chenle came to realize that he doesn’t understand about his best friend was her seemingly unlimited supply of energy, which he didn’t take into account when challenging her. While after half an hour of running and blocking and jumping, it was only normal that Chenle’s breathing became heavier, borderline panting and his movements turned somewhat sluggish, but the last thing he wanted was to give Y/N satisfaction for defeating him at his own hobby. But of course, nothing escaped her vigilante eye and she simply couldn’t miss the perfect opportunity to tease him a bit.

“What happened, old man, is your body starting to decay?”

Her shit-eating grin gave him a run for his money. He loved her smile, he really did. It always softened him, bringing out his inner tenderness for the girl that never failed to shine through the thickest of clouds, stealing the sun’s role and making it pale with shame and bow before her feet while she only sported an innocent curl of the lip, a deceiving cuteness that hid her real power. But when her smile only served to mock him, Chenle couldn’t help but want to wipe it off her smug face.

“You wish.”

That went back and forth for a while, neither of them letting up, their competitive personalities soaring up and clashing on the basketball court. But when Y/N forced her luck, blocking him in an almost suffocating way, Chenle let loose and for a moment he forgot he was only playing against Y/N, his best friend, a kid with even less experience in basketball than himself and shoved vigorously against her in order to score a point. His energy burst must have surprised his opponent because he passed by her flawlessly resembling a feather guided by a gentle breeze of wind, jumped as high as his tired muscles allowed and easily scored.

Chenle could only bask in his glory, raising a clenched fist and pumping in through the air, overjoyed by his victory. He felt proud of himself, he demonstrated that at least when it came to his favorite sport there was no way he would ever give up or let himself be beaten.

“YES! Did you see that Y/N? Guess you’ll have to call your mom and-” Chenle twirled around, gripping the ball tightly, a bright grin adorning his glowing face. However, his teasing session was cut short the moment his gaze fell on Y/N, sprawled to the floor, supporting her upper half of the body with her arms which already seemed quite shaky in Chenle’s opinion. Her eyes were wide, sparkling as she stared at him with parted lips, breathing hard. Chenle’s words died in his throat as he realized that maybe he had been too rough, blinded by his desire to prove himself.

“Y/N.”

The ball was dropped, forgotten on the floor, bouncing almost sadly at having been left behind without a care in the world as Chenle rushed over to Y/N. He crouched at her level and hovered over her, too afraid to touch her n case she would get even madder. 

‘Well done, Zhong Chenle, you have a crush once in your lifetime and you screw it over before you even stood a chance, well played.’ He could only worry about Y/N who was standing still, following him with her stare, an expression of disbelief painting her features.

“Y/N, are you okay? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Chenle, are you kidding me?! That was so awesome, I’ve never seen you play like that, what the heck possessed you, child?”

It was his turn to freeze as Y/N continued to babble excitedly and praise him in her unique way. On one side he was thrilled because he had succeeded in getting Y/N to acknowledge him and a warm feeling resembling fulfillment spread through his chest at the thought of Y/N priding herself with him, but at the same time he couldn’t ignore the tinge of worry settled in his frantic heart.

“You HAVE to teach me, hear me?”

He was snapped out of him jumbled thoughts by her hands gripping his shoulders and shaking him to gain his full attention. Y/N was smiling so wide her facial muscles must have hurt the earlier sparkle in her eyes only intensified, almost blinding Chenle and drowning him in her charm. He felt as if a fluffy blanket wrapped up his soul, and suddenly he was reminded of too sweet hot chocolate after a snow fight, drunk in the warmth of each other.

“How much will you pay me to?”

She huffed with a pout forming on her lips and he had to fight his urge to just lean over a bit and slot his lips against her, settling their status once and for all. But he only softly wrapped his fingers around her wrists, detaching her from himself when he observed the small, red scratch on her left palm. He tugged on her hand, bringing it closer to his face, inspecting the wound with a frown etched on his face, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You’re hurt.” His voice was small and laced with guilt. Y/N checked her palm too, only now observing the scrape. She still kept her smile, maybe even enlarging it as she met eyes with Chenle.

“You call this hurt? You should see the other guy.”

Chenle could only shake his head, not so surprised at her lack of care. He couldn’t fight off the smile that stretched his lips at Y/N’s fighting spirit as he stood up straight, dragging her with him.

“Let’s go get a band-aid from the pharmacy.”

“Oh yes, you wouldn’t want your one and only to bleed out from this horrifying gash now, would you?”

A trip later to the pharmacy nearby and back, they finally found themselves settled on a bench, partially shadowed by a tree as Chenle stuck the pink band-aid decorated with Hello Kitties over the small scratch, shooting Y/N another apologetic smile. They sat comfortably side by side, watching the sun disappear under the horizon, leaving hues of pink and orange scattered over the darkening sky in a frenzy painting for everyone to admire.

As Chenle turned his head, he watched Y/N from the corner of his eye. She wasn’t doing anything, but somehow she still became the center of Chenel’s universe. The way the dying sun rays danced across her face, kissing her skin delicately left him in a wordless wonder, the scenery above him pales in comparison to his angel sitting just under his fingertips, breathing the same air as him, sharing the same bench with him.

And her eyes, God, her eyes. He loved her eyes, he really did. They were always comforting, he could find his childhood in them, all the laughs and tears they have shared over the years. They reminded him he could be himself, he could let himself show weakness, he could love fearlessly because she would stay by his side unconditionally. But when the colors swayed so wildly over her deep orbs, Chenle couldn’t help but love them the most.

“You know, I take additional charges for starting.”

For once, Chenle didn’t startle as he looked straight into her playful eyes he adored so much. He inhaled deeply before taking a leap of faith in himself.

“Y/N, I love you.”

She only let a small grin grace her features as her index finger unconsciously traced delicate patterns over the back of his hand and Chenle couldn’t be more thankful for her calming habit.

“I love you too.”

Chenle frantically shook his head from side to side, trying not to let the desperation he felt show on his face or seep in his voice.

“No, you don’t understand, I love you”

“Oh”

Silence settled over them once again. But this time it wasn’t comfortable. It was thick and Chenle could almost choke on it, it suffocated him, the bitter feeling it came with tasting bitter in his mouth. He lowered his head, glaring holes into the pavement beneath his feet as regret pooled in his stomach, eating up at him and clouding his mind with hazy, messy thoughts.

He really despised his heart at that moment. He just lost the best thing in his life. He lost her because his heart couldn’t keep away from the forbidden fruit and strayed away on unsafe paths that brought his fall. And there was no turning back now.

Just as he let venomous thoughts invade his judgment, dainty fingers touched his cheek, caressing it lightly as if holding a fragile flower and gently turned his head to come face to face with his most precious treasure. Chenle shakily brought one of his hands over hers, cupping it over his face and caressing her knuckles with his thumb in an attempt to soothe himself.

“Wasn’t that settled already?”

Chenle’s eyes widened significantly.

“What?”

“I thought it was a wordless settlement, that we love each other... in that way. I thought you already knew I love you, in a different way from how I love the sky, a simple curious admiration, and different from how I love Jisung, like a cherished brother, I thought you knew I loved you like I love no one else.”

Chenle was breathless, mind foggy as he tried to take in Y/N’s words and differentiate them from a mere dream, a very vivid one. He couldn’t believe it. He had been having her right under his nose all this time and he was unaware of it. He let her slip away from him at the end of the day without showing her his complete and utter love for her so many times just to find out he had her all along, but he just didn’t realize. Oh, how fate played him this time. Chenle felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, every ounce of love buried deep inside himself that he kept hidden spilled over and there was no stopping him as he cupped her face in his hands, cradling her with such care the sun would have wanted to return just to share this moment with them.

Chenle felt on top of the world, ruling over everything, over his heart and mind after being at war with himself for so long. He felt like they were the only people left on Earth at that moment, a pair of children head over heels in love with each other, and who could deny a love so pure. As they parted for air, he knew that now that he had a taste of heaven, he wouldn’t be able to ever let it go.

“You know, I think I’ll have to charge you more than that, Chenle.”

Y/N’s light teasing only spurred him even more to bring their lips together once more, cherishing every second spent together, making up for the time they wasted like fools.

And it was then and there that Chenle concluded he loved her, he really did.

[don-quixotine]

Chapter 6 of The Wall Between Us is up, fam

This is the one where shit hits the fan. 

You can read from the start here or go below the cut for the entire chapter.  Enjoy the tears >:)

Fic summary:  Marinette is left to pick up the pieces after losing her chance with Adrien and having Master Fu give up his memories to protect the Miraculous Box. She struggles to find her ground as the new Guardian, and when it all becomes too much, finds unexpected support in Luka Couffaine. Simultaneously, Adrien is learning how to navigate his emotions and slowly begins to realize important truths about his feelings for Kagami, Marinette, and Ladybug. Will Marinette and Adrien be able to sort through their feelings and do what's best for the Miraculous team?

CHAPTER 6 If it weren’t for his reflexes and his sudden kick into survival mode, he would’ve gotten hit. Adrien tumbled down to the side just in time to evade an attack from Kagami’s Akuma. He ran as fast as he could, desperately looking for a place to hide. Seeing as the neighboring shops and alleyways were flooding with civilians who were witness to the Akuma, he had to settle for the crevice between two large vans to transform.

He swiftly opened the communication device on his baton and typed and S.O.S. message to Ladybug, as well as his plan to direct the Akuma to an empty field by the riverbank. She would know which one he meant. They made a point of leading all erratic Akumas to this spot. It was in an old industrial zone where immediate damage could be minimized.

Having wrote that, he snapped the baton, clicked it back into his belt and jumped back into action.

This one’s gonna give me nightmares, Chat Noir decided as he got a better look of the Akuma. It floated hauntingly slow, crying as it hit its victims. Its fixed crying expression got more accented every time it hit a new victim. It called itself “The Griever,” and its power was to hypnotize people and give them hallucinations of their most painful memories. Chat gulped as he merely missed one of the beam attacks. He felt the energy buzzing closely to his ear.

Don’t get hit, don’t get hit!

“Hey, you, Casper!” he shouted, claiming the Akuma’s attention and effectively preventing it from claiming new victims. “Aren’t you looking for this?” He flashed his ring at the monster.

The Griever growled and charged speedily at Chat, taking him by surprise.

“Ack!” He vaulted out of the way and started leading the Akuma to the riverbank. “Hurry up, Ladybug!” he pleaded to the winds.

-----

Unaware of the show Chat Noir was putting up for the rest of Paris to see, Luka and Marinette happily sat at a riverside park, sittung under a honey locust tree and quietly enjoying the afternoon nonethewiser to the mayhem a couple blocks west of them. 

Luka’s head rested on Marinette’s lap. He sighed lazily at Marinette’s fingers, which combed softly through his hair.Marinette closed her eyes, gently placing her attention on the sound of the wind ruffling the feathery leaves of the honey locust and Luka’s steady breath.

The comfortable silence got abruptly interrupted by a sudden, constant string of wailing and crying. Both Luka and Marinette perked up as they witnessed the sight of Chat Noir frantically vaulting from rooftop to rooftop on the other side of the Seine, as a ghastly Akuma shrieked and charged after him.

The pair looked at the superhero with slightly hanging jaws and a moment of stupefaction.

“LADYBUG!” Chat Noir screamed to no one in particular, as he tried his best to outrun the Akuma.

Marinette suddenly jolted. “I, uh… I need to go to the restroom!” she said, quickly springing to her feet and rushing out of view before Luka could stop her. He couldn’t help but notice this was one of those circumstances where if he had just told her that he knew her secret, he could simply have said to not sweat it and that he’d wait for her on the Liberty.

Sadly, he hadn’t gotten around to gathering the necessary courage for that, so he was left to his luck, wondering how long it’d take for Marinette to come back.

“Ladybug, thank god!” Chat Noir exclaimed as Ladybug joined the site of the action. “Mind the beams,” he said. “If you get hit it will give you hallucinations of your worst memories. The Akuma is on the necklace.”

Ladybug made a face. “Yikes. Who hurt them?”

Chat knew the question was rhetorical, but he still felt guilty. He hoped it didn’t show.

“Lucky charm!”

“What in the world are we supposed to do with duct tape?” he complained, evidently frustrated.

For what it’s worth, Ladybug thought it was pretty straightforward.

“You distract it and I’ll charge at it. When it hits me, you destroy the necklace.”

“And the duct tape?”

“Summon your Cataclysm.”

After he did, she ripped a couple pieces and put one over Chat’s mouth and another on hers.

As she calculated, Ladybug got hit. Chat tried to focus on the task at hand instead of how much it pained him to see Ladybug cry. He managed to evade every hit from the Griever and used the fact it was ready to take Ladybug’s earrings to gingerly touch the necklace, suddenly reverting Kagami back to normal and with her, the rest of the grieving Parisians.

Ladybug released the Miraculous Cure, and everything was back to normal.

She was surprised to see Kagami on the sidewalk, still crying. It was rare for an Akuma victim to continue feeling the negative emotion that had landed them in trouble. In these cases, Chat and she stayed as long as they needed to calm down and reassure the victim.

“Hello, Kagami,” Ladybug said gently. “Can I sit with you?”

Kagami sniffed, not providing a particular answer.

“You want to talk about what’s making you so sad? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“M-my boyfriend broke up with me!” she cried. “He broke up with me even though I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Ladybug took a deep breath and gave Chat a look for some back up. She was used to dealing with Parisians in distress, but for once, she felt at a loss for words.

“I– We’re very sorry to hear that,” said Chat, softly.

Ladybug glared at him as if saying, Is that all you got?

“He-he said he doesn’t want to b-be with me because he-he doesn’t love me…”

Ladybug hissed in solidary pain. “It’s tough when people we really care about don’t–can’t feel the same we do.”

The words were as uncomfortable to her as they were for Chat. The topic was too close to the wounds in their own partnership.

“But,” she continued. “Uh… sometimes, these things happen for the best, even though we don’t realize them at first. I know it’s painful right now, but you’re a very strong girl, okay? And also, any boy you date should count himself lucky.”

Kagami sniffed, then nodded.

“Do you need us to take you anywhere?” Chat asked.

Kagami shook her head. “I… I need to be alone for a while. Thank you for rescuing me.”

She got up and left, giving the pair of superheroes no chance to insist on the offer.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear back from her again soon,” said Ladybug.

“Yeah…”

“Anyway, I should go. My, uh… boyfriend is waiting for me,” Ladybug said.

“You got a boyfriend? Why hadn’t you told me?” Chat said surprised.

“Not now, Chat,” Ladybug said with a tired tone, sensing the drama that was about to bubble up. “We–.”

“That’s great, Ladybug!” he said, surprisingly genuine. The reaction caught Ladybug off guard. “I’m happy for you.”

Ladybug gave him a quizzical look. “Thanks…”

Their Miraculous beeped simultaneously and both let go a sigh, relieved to have an excuse to end the awkward interaction.

“Well, you can tell me more about him if you want next time we meet, Chat out!”

To say he practically scrambled to get out of the way was an understatement. Ladybug sighed, deciding not to stress about whether or not Chat Noir was actually happy for her or if he had just said that to save some face. It had been a pretty draining Akuma and at this point, she couldn’t find it in herself to care whether he’d make a fuzz out of this.

It was already dark when Marinette managed to go back to the picnic site, half expecting Luka to be gone by then. Imagine her guilty surprise when she found the poor boy still sitting on the same spot she left him.

“Hey!” Luka said happily.

“Luka! I’m so sorry, there was an Akuma and I got hit and–.”

“It’s okay,” he said with a chuckle. “You could’ve just texted me. But we can do that next time we get separated by an attack.”

“Right, hah,” Marinette agreed, then muttered to herself, “Why did I not think of that?”

------

The door groaned as Alya pushed it open, immediately greeted by a cold breeze and the smell of mold, dust, and old books.

The girls lingered at the door, unadmittedly a bit scared to enter. The small townhouse seemed like it hadn’t had inhabitants in a good while. Alya pointed her flashlight into the house; it had been a gloomy day in Paris and the weak, grey light did not do much for the interior other than make it look spookier.

“I thought Master Fu lived above his massage parlor,” Alya said, gathering courage to enter the house.

“He moved here after Hawkmoth found out he was the guardian,” Marinette said, tentatively stepping in. She reached for the light switch, finding that it rewarded her illuminating the small hall and revealing the layout of the house.

They stood at the beginning of a narrow hall which led to the kitchen. To the left, there was a door leading to a living and dining hall. Right of the hall were the wooden stairs that led to the upper floor. It was hardly decorated, but it was evident something had hung on the walls; the shadow of missing frames stained the otherwise creme-colored walls with a lighter shade.

“That’s super odd,” Alya said, also going in, closing the door behind herself. She did a quick sweep of the first floor, finding there was hardly any furniture: the kitchen had a plastic table with two chairs, a stove, and a small fridge which was unplugged. The living room was completely empty except for an old, wooden vitrine which displayed assorted utensils.

She turned on the tap on the kitchen sink, finding running water.

“Didn’t Master Fu leave almost a year ago?” Alya said, rejoining Marinette, who was inspecting the contents of the vitrine.

“Yes, why?”

“How come this house still has utilities, then?”

Marinette made a confused face.

“Somebody ought to be paying for them,” Alya explained.

“He left me a letter saying that I’d find everything I need here. Let’s check the upper floor.”

The stairs creaked as the girls climbed up to find a similar set up as they had found in the floor below: A narrow hall that led to a small bathroom and two rooms to the left of the hall.

They each found what Master Fu had meant: Each room was full to the brim with boxes upon boxes of books, documents, and all sorts of trinkets, no doubt related to his affairs as a Miraculous Guardian. Curious as she was, Alya got to work immediately, aggressively combing through each box and file, reading them thoroughly, and quickly developing a system to string the story together.

“You know, sometimes it amazes me that you never figured me out,” Marinette said with a bit of a smile as she lingered by the door. “I was winging it, at best. I’ll get onto the next room.”

Marinette took a bit longer to go through her boxes. She couldn’t help but be a bit overwhelmed sometimes, learning about Master Fu’s adventures or discovering some new piece of information about the Miraculous. It didn’t help that Alya would storm in excitedly every time she discovered something particularly interesting.

“Marinette!” she exclaimed incredulously from the other room, quickly rushing in holding a set of books. “Tell me you didn’t leave an entire grimoire set literally just chilling in this sketchy neighborhood for the good part of a year.”

Marinette widened her eyes, feeling her stomach drop and swearing under her breath. “Give ‘em to me,” she said. “I’ll take them.”

How was she supposed to know Fu had all this stuff lying around when he never got around actually telling her? Her resentment towards her mentor flared up but tried not to delve too long in it.

Hours passed, the girls making good progress on the boxes, when Alya came into Marinette’s room once again. “I found it,” she declared, holding a stack of papers. “It looks like he suspected he’d stop being the Guardian soon.” Alya placed her papers on a neat row in front of Marinette. “He left an automated billing account for the next five years and it looks like he owned this house. He left this sort of transposing document for you, but it comes into effect when you turn eighteen.”

Marinette felt her throat tangle in a knot. “Oh.”

“Do you need a moment?” Alya asked gently.

Marinette shook her head, swiftly wiping the tears that were pooling in her eyes. “No, please stay.”

The quiet was suddenly disturbed by Marinette’s buzzing phone. She muted it without looking at who had called.

“He meant for me to use this place,” Marinette said.

“It looks like it, yeah.”

Master Fu thought of everything, she thought, and brushed the cover of the book that she had been inspecting before Alya came in. It was a sort of instruction manual written by Fu, for her, that she hadn’t dare open yet. For the longest time she had thought Fu left her to her own devices, that he abandoned her to sort everything alone when in reality, he had left her a trail of hints. Memories and arrangements here and there that made Marinette feel as if he was still there, correcting her when she needed to, but also reminding her she was capable of doing this.

She sniffed, shook her head, and smiled. “Then in that case, we have a lot of work to do. Let’s get this place in order.”

------

Luka did not expect Marinette to be able to hang out with him that day. He didn’t need reminding that Marinette was a very busy person and he understood why. That didn’t mean he could help himself from feeling extremely disappointed when she didn’t even check her messages the entire day.

He had invited her to a picnic with his friends that came up spontaneously, but alas, she answered back around ten p.m., when he was already back.

“I’m so sorry, Luka!” she wrote, adding a sad emoticon.

“My parents hijacked me for the entire day, they have a big order to deliver tomorrow and they needed all hands on deck.”

Except he knew that wasn’t the truth. He had dropped by the bakery that day and her parents had told Luka Marinette left early that morning to help Alya with a project, but he suspected this had only been a cover for her to do something Ladybug-related.

“It’s okay, Mari. It wasn’t important or anything, just a picnic,” he wrote back, adding a smiling emoticon. “How was your day, though?”

Marinette only saw the first message, then responded to the second a good twenty minutes later.

“It was okay. Pretty boring, just making shortcakes the whole day. You?”

“It was okay, too. Just hung out with my friends.”

Marinette saw the message but replied nothing else.

She must be busy, Luka thought, forcing himself not to feel hurt. She’s just busy, she doesn’t mean to push you away.

And yet, he couldn’t help but to text her again. “Are we still on for the date on the weekend?”

He got a reply five minutes later. “Of course!” Marinette wrote with a beaming happy face. “I’m looking forward to it, I’m very excited.”

Luka smiled at the screen, excited to see she was typing again. “I have to go to bed now, though,” she added a yawning emoticon. “I’m completely dead. I’ll text you tomorrow!”

“Okay,” Luka wrote. “Good night!”

She didn’t see the last message. As he joined Juleka to watch T.V. he realized why: there had been an Akuma attack.

He sighed, for the first time ever feeling extremely irritated at the concept of Akumas.

-----

“Are we working on the hang out this weekend?” Alya asked casually as they took notes for one of Madame Bustier’s lessons. “I’m high-key super excited for it. I was thinking of using my allowance to make it look cute, you know?”

Marinette laughed. “You don’t have to do that, Alya.”

“I know,” she complained. “But it’s so cool that we can just chill there, I wanna make it cool.”

Marinette shook her head.

“At least let me buy some fairy lights and nice cushions.”

“If you must,” Marinette said, amused. “But I can’t work on it this weekend. I promised Luka I’d spend some time with him. I haven’t seen him this whole week,” she admitted guiltily as the bell rang marking the beginning of the weekend.

“Alright girl,” she said. “Tell me about how the date goes though!”

Marinette and Alya parted ways with Marinette hurrying to her house to get ready for her date with Luka, who had asked to meet in the ship.

She didn’t expect their date to be one of their regular hangouts at the ship, so she anticipated by wearing slightly nicer clothes than usual. Still, it took her by complete surprise when she arrived and found that Luka had set up a dinner table with a beautiful flower bouquet at the center. Not only that, but he had asked his mom to teach him how to bake a quiche for her.

“Oh my gosh, Luka!” she said, unable to fight off the blush that crept on her cheeks. “It’s so beautiful! You didn’t have to!”

He shrugged, blushing himself. “I thought to do something nice since we hadn’t seen each other in a while. Do you like it?”

“Yes!” she beamed as she took a seat.

It had not been ten minutes since Marinette arrived when some sort of commotion in the distance interrupted the quiet evening, no doubt because of an Akuma. Luka sighed, doing his best to hide his reaction. As he expected, Marinette excused herself to the bathroom, leaving him to eat dinner alone.

“Please let’s make this quick, Chat,” Ladybug said as she rushed into the scene to battle the Akuma that currently destroyed the eleventh Arrondisement.

“Caught you in a bad time, LB?” Chat Noir said with a bit of a smirk as he evaded the Akuma’s attacks.

“You have no idea,” Ladybug said with dread.

It was luckily one of the faster Akumas, and even though Ladybug’s train of thought was focused on rushing back to the Couffaine ship as fast as possible, Chat Noir’s unusual meek demeanor did not escape her attention. Suddenly, it dawned on her that they had been postponing their Guardian training sessions for almost a month now–with everything going on Marinette’s life, and also Chat Noir’s, she realized the last time she had seen him was for Kagami Tsurugi’s Akuma.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Ladybug said.

“Huh?”

“You seem a bit out of it.”

Chat Noir gave him a pressed smile and shrugged. “Nah, I’m fine… It’s okay, we’re about to detransform.”

“Chat…” Ladybug reached for his shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing important. I, uh, I broke up with my girlfriend last week.”

“Oh…” she said with a sad gasp. “Oh no, Chat. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he admitted with a pained smile. “I’m the one that broke it off, actually. But I still feel bad about it.”

Ladybug sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s recharge and we can talk about it.”

A macaron and a slice of cheese later, they reconvened in an indistinct rooftop, looking as the sun set, lighting up the Parisian landscape.

“So, what happened?”

“I just… I realized I don’t love her. I love someone else,” he said, looking down. “I couldn’t do that to her, lie to her like that.”

The silence that settled suddenly made him look up with panic. “It’s not you,” he hurried to say. “It wasn’t because of you. It’s this girl… This girl in my class. It just sucks in general,” he continued. “I– her… She’s with someone, this other girl. And apparently she had this huge crush on me before, but it went over my head because I’m an idiot and also because… well, because I was… Because I thought I was in love with you.”

She knew what he meant, and yet Ladybug couldn’t help but feel wounded by the way Chat Noir phrased it. She played it down, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Oh…” she finally mumbled, then cleared her throat. “Well, if it’s any use to you, I think you did the right thing, even if you can’t be with the other girl.”

“I know,” Chat admitted sadly. “It just sucks that I couldn’t see it before.”

Ladybug swallowed the knot in her throat. “It gets better,” she said. “Trust me, I speak from experience.”

Chat looked up at her with an intrigued expression.

“I, uh, I had something similar happen to me,” she confessed, a light blush creeping under the mask. “Except I was the one crushing on the guy and he started going out with this girl before I ever gathered the courage to tell him how I felt. I never did anything about it because I was too scared he would turn me down. It’s hard to be honest sometimes, but you did the right thing, Chat.”

“Thanks, Bug.”

The bells of a nearby church roared, announcing the passing of the hour, suddenly bringing Ladybug back into context.

“Shoot! I need to run, Chat.”

“It’s okay,” he said, reassuring her with a smile. “We can meet for Guardian training after the Wednesday patrol, if you’re not busy.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Ladybug,” said Chat, preventing from taking off. “For what it’s worth, I think you should still tell the guy how you feel. Like you say, it’s better to just be honest.”

She gave him half a smile. “Thanks, Chat,” she said, then quickly swinging out of the picture.

Back at the ship, Marinette’s nerves were in a wreck as she came out of the bathroom to rejoin Luka, desperately trying to figure out what could she possibly use an excuse.

“Everything alright?” Luka said as she rejoined the table.

“Yeah…” It was evident she was trying to come up with an excuse. “I, uh… Alya called me. She had a fight with Nino. Sorry I took so long.”

“No problem,” Luka said, with a sunny disposition. “Well, the food’s cold now, but I can reheat it if you give me a second.”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, Mari.”

Luka went into the ship and resurfaced a few minutes later with the food. He took a second serving so that Marinette wouldn’t be eating alone.

“Are you okay, Mari?” Luka said, noticing how fidgety she was, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and looking away into the rooftop along the Seine.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” she said smiling. “The quiche’s delicious, by the way.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

A silence of the uncomfortable kind settled between them, Luka noticed, making him uncomfortable as well. “And, uh, what have you been up to this week?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Marinette replied. “Just school, the bakery, and uh…”

“The macaron mafia,” Luka said with a bit of a smirk.

“Yeah,” she piped.

“How is that going?”

“It’s okay,” Marinette replied, giving no further explanation.

Luka felt desperation and frustration at both of them slowly starting to creep inside him. He wanted to tell her more than anything that he knew, and that she didn’t have to keep lying to him, that he understood. But then, on the other hand, he was scared that she might leave. What if she just didn’t want him to know? He didn’t want to throw their relationship away just because he couldn’t get used to her double life.

The air between them got fortunately lighter when Juleka and Rose came back from their date in the city and joined them at the table. Judging by the way Marinette’s disposition changed when the girls arrived, he couldn’t help but be a little uneasy.

That night after Marinette left, Luka found it hard to sleep. He stared at the roof of his room in complete contemplation. He knew that the only way out of this situation was to be honest with her and to tell her what he knew.

In his defense, he tried. He did try. But as he quickly came to realize shortly after they started dating, Marinette had very little free time. Actually, the times that they had hung out before they got together, which were also not too many when one really counted, were as much time as she could ever spend with him. This resulted in him coming with date after date where his end goal would be to confess to her, to only be interrupted by Akumas.

And so, he found himself in the most recent of his failed attempts, taking cover yet again in an alley next to a trash container after an Akuma interrupted one of their dates. This time he made a point of keeping track of the time so that he could come out when Marinette was ready.

As luck would have it, he heard someone land somewhere along the alley after the battle seemed to be over. His heart raced, feeling opportunity beckon him to come out. This was as good a moment as any. It was better this way, to hell with a meticulously planned conversation.

Luka poked his head ready to call Ladybug’s attention, when he found Chat Noir with his back facing him, transforming into none other than Adrien Agreste.

He had the sense to crouch back into his hiding place before shock seized him.

After what felt like minutes, his phone went off with notification after notification. He picked it up, noticing it had been an hour since the Akuma ended. It was Marinette. She was worried.

His hands trembled as he replied to her messages. “Hey Mari. I got hit by the Akuma and I ended up on the other side of the city. My phone died and I had to go into a store to charge it, sorry.”

“That’s okay, are you okay? Where are you? I can meet you in a bit.”

“Don’t worry. It’s way too far, I’m in the first Arrondisement. I’m sorry to ditch you, but can we raincheck? I feel a bit woozy after the Akuma.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to meet you? I can take a cab and take you home.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m okay. I just need some fresh air and a nap.” He added a smiley face for good measure.

“Alright,” Marinette replied. “Take care. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

He waited to see if she’d keep writing before he turned his phone off. He hugged his knees and let out the sob he had been holding in for the past hour.

He had so many questions, all rushing and battling for his attention. Did either of them know? No, it didn’t make sense. Adrien would have never dated Kagami if he knew, and though he wanted to think Marinette would still be with him if she knew Adrien’s secret, Luka knew that was wishful thinking. It just didn’t make sense. Unless… Unless they knew and them dating other people was just a facade to protect their identities. But Marinette wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t–she was a good person. Right? Marinette wouldn’t lie to him. And yet, as of late, that’s all she did.

------

Ladybug had to admit, she was very impressed with Chat Noir. She didn’t know what came over him, but in the last few months it felt as if he had gone through some sort of metamorphosis. It was not to say that Chat Noir had lost that, well, that Chat Noir flare but there was something different about him. He was always punctual to their meetings, was level-headed in Akuma battles, and took his training seriously. He showed Ladybug the notebook he kept with all his notes from his Guardian lessons with her, and to her surprised, were neatly organized and jotted down with a clean handwriting she could swear she had seen somewhere. Not only he had been quick to pick up everything Ladybug had to teach him, but he went above and beyond to expand on her knowledge, and this also applied to their hunt for Hawkmoth.

“I have something for you,” he confessed one of such nights where he had been showing her his progress on his studies, much to Ladybug’s satisfaction.

“Oh?” she said, with an intrigued smile.

Chat Noir reached into the rucksack he usually brought to Guardian training and produced a pair of cellphones. “Burner phones,” he explained. “They don’t have cellular data; we can only send messages and call each other. I thought it would be useful if we can communicate whenever we need to.”

“Oh, Chat…” she said gingerly picking the unassuming little brick.

“Is it too much? I thought since you’re okay with the whole identity thing you might be okay with the phones, but if it’s too much you can just say the word and I–”

“Chaton, not so fast,” she said giggling. “It’s okay. I think it’s a great idea. I, uh… was just going to say I can’t really pay \a phone plan. I don’t have that big of an allowance.”

“That’s not a problem,” he said brightly. “I already took care of that. All you need to do is keep it charged. They run with prepaid cards, for more anonymity. I’ll get new ones when we run out of the credit they already have.”

“Chat, no. I really wouldn’t feel–”

“I insist. It’s really not a problem.”

Ladybug arched a teasing eyebrow. “Are you rich or something?”

Chat Noir smirked at her. “Maybe.”

“Is that a hint? Are you really rich? One of those obnoxiously posh kids? Oh no. This makes so much sense. You must be one of those insufferable private school guys. Are you like a real-life Bruce Wayne?”

“No,” he said, laughing. “Besides Bruce Wayne has no powers. I happen to have two.”

“Two?”

“The ring and my devilishly good looks.”

“Ugh,” Ladybug groaned, nonetheless laughing.

“Wait, that’s not all I wanted to tell you,” said Chat. “I, uh… was thinking.”

Ladybug’s stomach dropped with anxious anticipation. “About what.”

“I think… I mean, I’m not ready. But, uh, I just concluded that I thought you should know. I… I think I’m okay with us knowing each other’s identity. Eventually. Just… not now. Also, I–I think I’m ready to see this place you told me Master Fu left for us.”

Ladybug beamed with happiness, unable to help herself from pulling Chat Noir into a hug. “Chat that’s great!”

She hugged him, effectively causing him to blush and lose a bit of his focus. He gently pried her off him after he returned the hug.

“It’s not an identity reveal but–”

“You don’t have to justify yourself, Chat. It’s okay. I understand. When do you want to go to the hide-out?”

“I mean, if you have time right now…”

“Of course!”

Ladybug led Chat Noir to the neighborhood where the hide out was. In the dead of the night, there weren’t people out in the street.

“This is the neighborhood?” Chat said.

“Yes, why?” Ladybug said producing the key to the house from her yoyo.

“No reason. It’s just this is one of the sketchier neighborhoods. You know this map I’m working on that I told you about” he explained. “You get more regular crime here than Akuma-related.”

“My ”support group“ said the same,” Ladybug said as she opened the door. She picked up a flashlight Alya and her usually left by the door.

“There’s no light?”

“I don’t want to call attention with us wearing the transformations. You never know who might be watching.”

“Good point.” He walked around the house using his night vision to make out where everything was. “Maybe I can get a few furniture pieces for this place,” he commented. “Like a proper table and some chairs, and some kitchen utensils in case we ever need the kitchen.”

Ladybug was glad for the darkness because it made it easier to hide away her flustering. As much as she tried to deny it to herself, Chat always caught her attention when he took the lead. She shook her head and expertly pushed away the feeling,  aided by the thought of her boyfriend. Don't you even dare, you thankless heathen, she thought to herself and focused back on Chat's ranting.

“Maybe we can also get a safe in case you keep anything valuable here. And we have to change this lock. I don’t trust the locks in old buildings, we need a smart one and security cameras and–”

“Minou,” she said chuckling. “You’re literally just like my friend. I appreciate you’re exited to contribute, but where in the hell are we going to get the money for a freaking security system?”

“Leave it to me,” he said. Ladybug didn’t need to properly see to know he had his shit-eating grin on.

“I– Of course, I forgot you’re a rich kid.”

Chat laughed. “Sorry, I got carried away. But still, don’t you worry, LB. If you need anything for this place, just let me know.”

They went to the upper floor, the main attraction at least as far as Ladybug was concerned. She was pretty proud of the progress that Alya and her had made so far. They had managed to buy a few second-hand shelves for all the documents Master Fu had left and had a library of sorts.

Chat Noir went through some of the volumes until something caught his attention. It was a scanned copy with some notes on it, perhaps something Master Fu had been working on, but it was decidedly something he had seen before and had never connected the dots for. Not at least until then.

It was a page describing the powers of the Peacock Miraculous, and as any good encyclopedia, it had a picture of a brooch. The same brooch he had found in his father’s safe with the book–the grimoire, Chat would later learn that’s what it was.

A cold shiver ran through his spine.

Mayura was Hawkmoth’s sidekick. Natalie was his father’s assistant.

[veridium]

fake happy

Well, whaddya know! The College AU is back, baby! Unfortunately June was pretty much hell in a handbasket, so writing took a backseat. But, we are far from done. Thank you to everyone for sighting tight, and to @bitchesofostwick for being a very patient co-author. 

So, where were we? Ah, yes, the holiday weekend from hell. On with the show! Title bought to you by a great Paramore song.

masterpost // last chapter

--

“Hey baby cakes!”

The moment she hears the shrill greeting whilst getting out of her car in the sandstone-colored driveway, Olivia knows she’s in a chapter of Dante’s Inferno. All the calmness she had with Ellinor earlier that day is gone; it is easier said than done enduring four days in the house of Paula Sinclair.

“Hey,” she rushes over her shoulder, pulling the side lever to release the trunk where her bags are kept. Just two, one of clothes and toiletries and the other books and supplies to do assignments. She’ll need the preoccupation as an excuse for the gauntlet of trials her Mom will invite her to.

As she’s filing her luggage out onto the driveway, she sees her Mom’s shadow approaching. She glances and sees her in all her glory: an olive green sundress with one of those straw pool hats. She was probably out basking in the sun all afternoon before this. Olivia is surprised she thought to put down whatever spiked beverage she must have had with her to come outside and greet her only child. 

“Did you have a safe drive? You certainly did not rush to get home safe,” Paula says, halting and crossing her arms. 

Olivia slams the trunk closed and huffs, slinging one bag’s strap over her shoulder and the other on her opposite forearm. “I woke up late, and had to help Ellinor pack.” Sorry, Ellinor. 

“Ellinor! I will miss her this year.” A lie said out of convenience. The whole time Ellinor stays with them, Paula shoots her peculiar questions about her personal life or her political views. Ellinor knows better now after these last couple of years how to play them off, but Paula can’t help but size people up. It’s how she cultivates all her complaints.

“I will, too,” Olivia lets out as she makes her way to the front door, past the splendorous potted plants and fake green grass turf. Her Mother saunters behind her through the open door. 

Once inside Olivia notices what’s missing, and sets her smaller bag down. 

“Wh--”

“No no, do not just leave that there! Take it to the mud room or your bedroom.”

Olivia bites back a groan and turns around to face Paula as she shuts and locks the large-ass, gaudy-ass front door. “Fine. Where is Nemo?”

“Nemo?”

“...the dog, Mother.”

“Nemo! Oh, psh,” she waves her acrylics. “He is off in the yard. I kept him outside because the carpet steamers came this morning. You know how his muddy little paws are! Now, do I not get a hug?”

Olivia tenses up from head to toe, seeing her Mother coming in for the hug she didn’t wait for permission for. At least Nemo isn’t mysteriously gone -- she’s read too many horror stories online of people’s parents being complete monsters about their old family pets dying, and not telling the children who live elsewhere -- but Paula keeps Nemo out in the yard for days at a time when she gets the carpets cleaned. He will need company, and not just the husband going out and practicing his golf swing adjacent to him. 

Oh, right, there’s a husband around here.

Paula hugs her with her arms draped over Olivia’s shoulders, rather than around her waist like a good bear hug. Something Dad would know how to do.

“I imagine Fred is off shooting, stuffing, or smoking something,” she mutters over her Mother’s shoulder, to which Paula gently swats at her shoulder and guffaws. 

“No, silly! He’s in the yard with Nemo, your fellow prisoner,” she teases, picking up on Olivia’s dread with her trademark passive aggression. Only three minutes in the door, a new record. 

“I didn’t say he couldn’t do those things out in the yard.” Lord knows he has before. 

“Where do you think our holiday meal comes from every year?” 

“COSTCO, like God and Uncle Sam intended, right?”

“Ugh, Olivia, your humor changes every year you’re at that College. Don’t be so morose.”

She takes a breath and picks up her eyesore of a bag so that it does not further desecrate the sanctity of the foyer, and makes for the curved staircase just across the pristine hardwood. “I’m just tired from the drive, Mom. I’m going to go upstairs and get settled.”

“Okay, and come downstairs soon! I wanna catch up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay!”

She glances behind her but her Mother is already vanished. Sure, catch up, but not too quick! Releasing her bated breath she lurches up the rest of the stairs. The place is heavily renovated from the home it originally was when her parents bought it. In the beginning they didn’t have much -- well, much compared to what Paula has now -- and so their first nest was a fixer upper. Year after year, corny wallpaper became fresh painted walls, and thick upholstered couches handed down from in-laws became brand new installations from the boutiques downtown. Two additions to the place upgraded it from a modest family home to a wannabe mansion. Olivia grew up in this ever-changing little kingdom of improvements, but only when she was a newly-minted adult did she realize she was one of its fixtures.

The one comfort had always been that her Father dwelled there with her. He brought heart and humanity to the kingdom of objects: his muddy shoes by the front door, not the “mud room.” His fishing rods hung up on the garage rack. His barbeque out in the yard. They weren’t all state-of-the-art, but they were his. But, by now, they, too, were all gone. ‘Improvements’ in every stead, including his.  

Olivia had one sacrosanct place left, and that was her childhood room. Walking down the hall decorated with big, framed portraits of the family -- none of her Father, though, to be sure -- she found her door, the second one to the right in the west hallway. “West” being the original upstairs hallway, the only hallway, before construction added the one referred to as the “East.” She pushed the ajar door open and slid in to see it as she remembered: the bright lavender purple walls strewn with posters, pictures, and a tapestry up behind her bed. The pearly purple carpet smelled of the carpet cleaner, but it did not mask the smell of vanilla she expected. On the opposite wall from the door, her princess bed complete with ivory white canopy was freshly made. Her bedspread was white, with pillows in alternating shades of green and lilac. Years ago she fought endlessly for her Mother to let her paint her room a darker color than the baby pink it was first. Thanks to her Dad, they “compromised” with purple. Sadly, Paula took that as “the lightest shades of purple” and so it was.

In the details, though, there was Olivia’s rebellion. The posters, Paramore, My Chemical Romance, and an old one from a Sheryl Crow concert she found on Amazon, contrasted the brightness with a grit. To the left by her small balcony doors, her vanity mirror and stool were covered with polaroid pictures, concert tickets, movie ticket stubs, and bracelets. She had taken all of her incriminating, “immodest” makeup with her to college, so all that remained were an old bottle of sunscreen, some pastel eyeshadow palettes, and lip glosses. So many lip glosses. 

Olivia dropped her shit in the middle of the floor and made for the reading chair in the far corner, where she collapsed into a curled, reticent ball of conflicted emotions. She predicted this -- she dreaded this -- and now, here she is. The first day is always a test of anxiety, more so than enduring mistreatment. Paula is always good on the first day -- great, sometimes. She is generous, and outgoing, and doesn’t sweat the small stuff. The grueling part comes after the first night ends and she realizes she has to do something with her daughter who isn’t just in for dinner and giggling. That’s when she remembers how she actually feels, and who she actually is. And with no one like Ellinor to buffer and provide excuses for her not standing in one place for too long, it’ll be particularly concentrated. 

She slides limply against the plush chair and closes her eyes. It was a stressful drive full of hasty college kids getting home to their more harmonious families. Olivia was in no rush, though. Three trips through various drive thrus surely added time.

Her phone goes off, and she slips her phone out of her back jean pocket. 

Ellinor: You ready to walk the plank yet?

Smirking, Olivia replies: 

-- I am already keeling over the edge. How is your family?

Ellinor: I nearly did a drop and roll out of Lyssa’s car on the way here, but they’re bearable. They are who they usually are. No surprises, this holiday season! 

-- One of these years we’ll be successful enough to buy everyone therapy for Christmas. 

Ellinor: No shit, I’m making them pay for mine first. 

Olivia is replying when another notification comes up, an instagram like this time, from Maryden. Grinning she taps on it. Maryden finally saw the group pic they all took at the fair: her, Ellinor, Cullen, and then Olivia and Cass in the bottom corner. Olivia had made Cass hold the phone due to height advantage. Her grin expands before it sinks fast. 

Ah, fuck. 

She pulls up her messages again and sees the one Cassandra sent her while she was driving and unable to check. 

Cassandra: Text me when you arrive safe. ❤️

The heart emoji. Olivia’s cheeks turn hot, and she hastily types. 

-- Here in purgatory! 

The sound of a man shouting something, and then laughing, rings from the balcony windows. Fred must be huffing and puffing about something amusing, like meat or guns. She can’t wait for all his odd comments and attempts to “relate” that almost always devolve into him talking about whatever season of sport he’s onto and her nodding along. Poor man. He makes sea sponges seem like sophists. 

Soon after sending, Cassandra replies, an opportunity Olivia doesn’t predict: 

Cassandra: Awesome. my Uncle has stopped us for gas, still about 40 minutes out. 

-- That’s good. Hopefully you won’t get stuck in rush hour. 

Cassandra: My Uncle sucks at navigating traffic, so I wouldn’t bet on it. 

-- Lol

Cassandra: You alright? 

Olivia is sort of surprised by the question and its sensitivity, albeit direct. 

-- Just tired from the drive, that’s all 

Cassandra: You love driving. You would drive the entire stretch of the coast highway without blinking once.

Damn, Cassandra. A bold insight. A correct one, too. 

-- 🤷🏼‍♀️

Five seconds after she hits send, Cassandra calls her. She nearly drops the phone on the floor, and her slack posture goes full vertical. She checks that the door is closed, only to decide to leap, rush, and lock it just in case. Then she hurries to the farthest corner of the room and hits answer right on the last ring. 

“No, Detective, I will not submit to the polygraph.”

Cassandra’s voice rings almost playfully. “Very well, we have other ways of making you talk.”

There’s the hot blush again. “Uh, a-alright, who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” She hushes a bit, and hopes Cassandra doesn’t notice. 

“Nothing! My Uncle is in the gas station doing who-knows-what, so I’m stuck in here, boot and all.”

“I’m not kidding, I saw that Liam Neeson movie, I know how this goes. I have a special set of skills--”

“What do I have to do? Express my distaste for something? Quote Plato?”

“...It would be reassuring.”

Cassandra laughs coyly, and despite everything, it livens her spirit. She didn’t expect Cassandra to be in so playful a mood traveling back home. She was cool but unhappy about it that morning when they parted ways, entertained only by Olivia’s presence and a strong cup of coffee. Without the ability to drive due to her ankle, her illustrious but mysterious Uncle had to be the one to pick her up and take her back to her family. 

“I was just calling to check in on you.”

“I thought that was what the texting was for,” Olivia replies more curtly than she intends. She gnaws at her bottom lip.

“Sometimes it is worth the extra effort to call.”

“That is very un-millenial of you, you know. Horrifying.”

“Maybe so. Ugh, what is that man doing?” there’s sounds of Cassandra rustling against the leather seat, probably checking in through the window. “Probably searching for that expensive jerky he gets at Trader Joe’s like it will just magically turn up at an ARCO.”

“Who’s to say it won’t? People of all walks of life can enjoy finer things.”

“Yes, but not just the ‘finer’ things,” she then huffs. “Look, I don’t have much time, so if you aren’t in the mood to talk about what is bothering you, I can let you go and we can talk later.”

“I don’t know if I will be able to. My Mom wants to ‘catch up,’ which in her language means I get a hundred questions and the occasional asinine one from Fred.”

“Fred’s your stepfather, right?”

“He’s...my Mother’s husband.”

“I see.”

She mulls her teeth and looks around aimlessly. Cassandra goes ‘hm’ but nothing else. 

“How are you able to talk so much?” Olivia asks, diverting the subject. “Aren’t you worried your family will pry?”

“The good thing about holidays in my family is there are so many people around, you can get a great deal of private time if you are smart enough. Which is exactly what I intend to do. Ugh...he...oh, sorry. I thought my Uncle was coming back, but it was just another man.”

“Yeah, but you said they have superhuman abilities for nosiness.”

“They do. And I have superhuman talents of evasion. They’ll peck and prod about the ankle boot, though. Usually I can slip away to the gym or for a run to get away from them but...of course...can’t do that. Doctors don’t trust me to set foot in a weight room and it’s been weeks since my injury.”

“Cass, it’s been two weeks, almost precisely.”

“I said weeks, didn’t I? Look, overextending is not the same as knowing my limits. They’re the medical professionals, but they don’t live in this body 24/7.”

Olivia grimaces with sympathy, though she can’t say she agrees given how easy it is for Cassandra to throw herself into things without caution. “Uh huh.”

“Ugh, forgive me. I won’t be able to talk everyday, but I would like to try sometimes, okay? I promise it won’t all be about my messed up ankle.”

Olivia smirks. “You’re being very…”

“Very…what?”

Olivia stalls. Is it an asshole thing to do, saying your girlfriend is being more sensitive and caring than usual? Maybe not “more,” but in a different way. An unusual way. She could have really taken Olivia’s hurt feelings over how she acted about her injury. She could be really trying. But now, in the lion’s den, Olivia’s unsure about whether the timing of it is...well, ideal. 

“Nevermind, I lost my train of thought,” she excuses. “I appreciate you.”

“It’s no trouble. Now, I think my Uncle is coming back. Ugh, he got a whole bag of things...probably for me. Seeing me with my boot triggered his overprotective nerve extra hard.”

“Oh, no, sour patch kids! The torture!” Olivia teases. An ounce of her regular self bleeds through. 

“Very funny. I will text you later. Be safe, alright?”

“Alright. You, too.” She then remembers and slips it in before they hang up: “L-let me know when you get home, too, okay?”

“...O-okay.” There’s a pause, the kind of awkward pause when the thing you say -- the particular thing -- happens. But since they aren’t there yet, it’s full of pause and anxiety. 

“Okay,” Olivia takes her turn to smooth it over. “Bye!”

“Bye.”

Hanging up kills the feeling of safety. She looks into the big oval mirror at her dresser vanity and watches her grin crack, then disappear all-together. The scene in her reflected surroundings loses its luster. Even with all the impossibilities, she kind of wishes Cassandra was with her. It almost makes her laugh at herself: what, would she have driven up with her in the passenger’s seat, hear “hey baby cakes!” and smile, saying “hey Mom, here’s my girlfriend! You’re suddenly not biphobic, right? Oh and by the way she’s a Pentaghast, so, there’s that!” and they all retire to the sitting room for tea and introductions. Right. 

She turns and sees her unpacked bags, her only company. She rubs her forehead slowly with the back of her hand. She has experience being left to her own devices with her Mother. Hell, she has a lifetime of it with her. A long weekend won’t be anything particularly gruesome, and if it is, well, she’s survived them before.  

Fifteen minutes later she has everything organized and put away -- she won’t unpack much, anyway. A quick change into some leggings and a t-shirt, a toss of her hair into a ponytail, and she’s ready to face the music. She’s careful to shut her bedroom door before she descends down the hall and the stairs, betting that her Mother is out in the yard on one of the lounge chairs. She finds her there, indeed lounging, with that missing cocktail restored to her.

Unmoved but always observant, her Mother inquires: “Settled in?” 

Olivia puts on her best polite grin and sits down on the lounge chair five feet away. On the grass, Fred is dressed in pastel blue polo and cargo shorts like the overgrown fraternity pledge he is, throwing a frisbee for Nemo. Nemo, the 10 year old yellow lab, who can scarcely go up the stairs without being winded these days. Too bad for Fred the minute Olivia shows herself, the grey-faced dog bounds in his own way over to the long last playmate.

“Nemo! You little prince!” she smiles, crouching down to embrace him. His tail is wagging a million miles per hour, and he fills her face with old dog breath. His tickling gets her to finally laugh. 

“Good grief,” she hears her Mom say, “Olivia, don’t let him lick your mouth!”

“I’m fine!” she says through her giggles, rubbing his chest and back as she stands upright. “It won’t kill me.”

“Ugh.”

That joy was short lived. She returns to the chair she chose and does her best to make as little eye contact as possible as she sits and sprawls her legs out. Nemo follows circles around her, tail still going.

“Do we know what the plans are for Thanksgiving?” Olivia asks, expecting the same answer as always. Dinner at home with Fred’s relatives and those in Mom’s family who she isn’t on the outs with, all above the age of 35 for the most part, and vote like it. Another dinner she’ll have to dress way too modestly and matronly for her age in order to fit in for the group photo.

“Well, that is what I wanted to surprise you with,” Paula answers. 

Olivia side-eyes her Mom, and delays opening up her phone to scroll through Twitter. “What?”

“We will be having dinner with the family as always, but earlier this week we received a surprise invitation for us to attend a holiday party later on this weekend.”

“You aren’t going to spend the holiday campaigning, are you?” 

“‘Campaigning’ has a broad definition, Olivia, and it is never a bad idea to become more familiar with one’s community constituents.”

Olivia frowns and resumes scrolling. Great, likely another fundraiser or gala, not something substantially humble like volunteering time with those genuinely in need, who are also her “constituents.” She saved the label for those she could depend on to write a donation check -- the other 80% of society barely existed. 

“I assume then you are expecting me to go?”

There’s a sound of Paula’s magazine of choice turning a page. “What do you think the surprise was?”

“That as much as you would like me to come, that you respect my choice not to so that I can have a quiet, restful weekend at home before Finals are in full swing?”

No response for going out on that limb. The proverbial crickets chirp, and Olivia knows her point was deliberately missed. 

“Or,” she corrects herself, “that you want me to go.”

“Yes, silly girl. And for your information, even if I didn’t want you to come, the invitation specifically noted you.”

“P-pardon me?” She looks up.

Paula shakes her head and smiles. “When were you going to tell me you were making friends with the Pentaghast family?”

“I...I-I’m not!”

“You must be, there was a handwritten note in the card, your name and all.”

Olivia can feel a stroke coming on. The heat of the day now feels like a vise around her throat, a semi-truck on her chest. She jerks up and turns to look at her Mother dead on, who is still flipping through her latest issue of Vogue, sunglasses and sunhat and all. 

“So...so they wrote me in? Me, specifically?”

“Yes, that is what I said! Goodness, calm down, you’ll give yourself a heat stroke.” 

Too late. “Why? Aren’t they one of the big blue families? Why would they want to invite y--”

“Are you insinuating that I do not belong in a bipartisan space? Olivia, I work in one for a living. This whole business of networking is par for the course. In fact, it is a long time coming. The Pentaghasts should be taking the ‘other side’ more seriously. I have been in this town’s political realm for seven years, now. They cannot always hide behind their old money and liberal hypocrisy of “inclusion.””

There is that rhetorical savvy and venom. Quintessentially Paula. Olivia falls back on the lounge chair and stares out into the lawn, mouth open and words lost. Where to begin? Hey, Mom, don’t think so highly of yourself, they’re only inviting you to get to me! Because they want to sniff me out as one of their many daughters’ lovers! You’re full of shit!

“Do I have to go? I am serious about wanting rest. This semester has been a lot, an--”

“A semester that I paid for,” Paula cut in, turning yet another page. “It is restful to be with your family. You should consider yourself lucky, Olivia, that spending time with us is so comfortable. You have this nice home to come back to, and good people to spend time with, and beautiful parties to go to. A girl your age in a lesser position would claw someone’s eyes out for the chance to live the life you get to. Is it so really so demanding?”

The shots to the gut have started early. So much for the easy first day. She wishes even more she could pop her Mother’s balloon, but it would mean ultimate disaster for her in the end. Out in the open Fred is still trying to get Nemo to chase the damn frisbee, clearly aware that he should stay away from the two debating blondes. Olivia rolls her lips shut and tries her hardest to swallow the hunk of pride at the back of her throat, but there’s no room in her stomach. It’s completely filled to the top with anxiety about what it means to be going to this party. 

Then it hits her: Cassandra is going to shoot through the roof. 

“Fine, Mom. I’ll go.” The clock then starts ticking for her to find a covert way out of it beforehand. She’s dove deep into her head, and only catches half of her Mother’s pleased response. 

“--something classy, the party is black tie optional.”

“Okay.”

“I also have an appointment for us to get our nails done tomorrow at 11, so do not sleep in too much.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. She does another fake smile as she pulls up her messages on her phone in order to deploy the distress signal: 

-- Change of plan, I need you to call me as soon as you are able. Your family sent an invitation to mine for their big party this weekend. My Mom is insisting we go. Code red. 

[boat-dock]

Freya

part 4 of my Mikaelson family oneshots... honestly I could turn this into a whole fic... let me know if that’s something yall would be interested in

set after 2x06 Josie and Freya come back to Mystic Falls together and bring back everyones memories and then go to find her. while Hope deals with her own fears of being forgotten and learns what it truly means to be a Mikaelson

The preparations for Commonwealth day were in full swing as Lizzie pulled Hope away so they could talk privately. It was strange having someone to talk to again, someone who knew everything, especially since that person was Lizzie. They had never had the best relationship, it was on the mend when Hope went into the pit but still, the irony of this situation wasn’t lost on her. 

Hope glanced around nervously as Lizzie dragged her away from the crowd of people, “ I don’t know how long I can keep this up Hope,” she groaned, “I’m terrible at keeping secrets.” 

“We talked about this,” Hope responded trying to keep her voice level. “People can’t know, not yet,” it’s not that she didn’t want people to know, of course, she does, more than anything. She misses her old life and her friends and family, but the fear of how they will react is overwhelming, everyone seems happy now and she can’t bring herself to disrupt that, no matter how much Lizzie says she should. “Besides Josie’s out of town it should be easier right now,” 

“Josie not being here isn’t the point,” the blonde snapped but she is cut off before she can continue by a wave of powerful magic sweeping through the city. The townies were none the wiser but it hit Hope like a ton of bricks, making her light-headed and confused. Lizzie cocks her head, she felt the surge but it didn’t affect her like it did Hope - like it did dozens of people throughout the town. “What the hell was that?” 

“I have no idea but I’m going to find out,” Hope growls, pushing their argument into the past and grabbing Lizzie by the arm to go find the problem. She scans the crowd, searching for anything out of the ordinary or dangerous that could be a threat.

Despite all her efforts, she misses the one thing that definitely should have caught her attention, Lizzie, however, stopped dead in her tracks. “Shit,” she hissed and yanked Hope back and behind a tree so they were hidden from view, “Oh my god.” a shocked Hope pulled away but Lizzie was stronger than she looked and Hope found that she couldn’t get away. 

“What is it?” Hope asked. But Lizzie shushed as she peered around the corner, trying to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. 

“So um-” Lizzie starts, “I think we have a little problem,” Hope finally managed to catch a glimpse at what Lizzie is staring at and she stops dead in her tracks. Across the park just close enough for Hope to make out are Josie and Freya, walking side by side with a  purpose, scanning the crowd of people. She stumbled back shocked and confused, Freya has no reason to be here, in fact, Hope’s entire ability to live this strange new life she was trapped in banked on Freya not being here. 

Lizzie started talking again but she couldn’t hear her over the rushing in her ears. She was getting odd looks from some of the people around her and she desperately tried to pull herself together. Could Freya have had something to do with the surge of magic just a moment ago and if so what did she do? 

The two were talking to each other like familiars as they searched the crowd and Hope found this odd. As far as she knew Josie and Freya had never met each other. What could they be doing together? The only link between the two was Hope except now they didn’t even have that.

Standing there and staring was where she made her mistake. They spotted her, or Josie did as she gripped Freya’s arm and directed her attention toward where she stood shocked. Suddenly she found herself unable to move. Their faces were unreadable as they beelined toward her, pushing and shoving through the dense crowd. 

Finally, Hope snapped out of it and stumbled backward, she’s actively trying to move away when Lizzie once again grabs her and holds her in place till the two women can reach them. “Breath Hope,” she muttered, doing her best to calm the tribrid so she doesn’t lose it in front of the entire town, Hope makes a mental note to thank her for that later. “You have to do this.” 

No. Nope. Not going to happen. 

This was one thing that she could not handle.

Facing her family was not an option, she’s attempted to go back to New Orleans many times since she came back but she’d never been able to make herself do it. Josie and Freya broke through the crowd and suddenly Freya was running full speed at her. Hope swears her heart dropped to her stomach and she pulls wildly against Lizzie. With a surge of her supernatural strength, she yanks her arm away and sinks back curling into herself and her aunt comes to a halt a few feet from her, and Josie was not far behind. 

Her breath was coming out in heaves, she felt like everything was being ripped from her all over again, “Hope,” Freya whispers like she trying to calm a spooked animal. Her voice is soft and familiar, like warm honey and for the first time, the thought occurred to Hope that she recognizes her. Her aunt’s face is filled with love and despair and worry and not the blank uninterest that Hope had feared. 

She stayed frightfully still as Freya inched her way forward, “It’s ok,” she muttered, reaching her hand out, “ You’re ok.” “Aunt Freya,” Hope gasped as her aunt’s hand came to rest on her cheek, but it came out more like a whimper. Her vision blurred with tears and her throat tightened as she fought back her emotions, “Do you know who I am?” she asked

“Of course,” Freya chuckled tears in her eyes also. They crash into each other like planets colliding and Hope feels safe and loved again after so long alone in the darkness. Her attitude shifted quickly, however, “ Hope what on earth were you thinking? You foolish girl, you should have come home the second you got back and we could have fixed this.” 

Guilt washed over her, “ I know I should have,” she mumbled, lowering her eyes to the ground, “ I just couldn’t. I’m sorry, I wasn’t strong enough,” the words slipped out before she could stop them. She’d never admitted that not even to herself, she prided herself on her strength and ability to handle difficult situations. 

“What do you mean?” Freya asked, pulling back to look into her eyes. The twins' eyes bore into her as she struggled to find her words. 

“I couldn’t handle you looking at me and not recognizing me -any of you,” she said softly, like admitting this shortcoming was an actual physical fault that she had and not a completely reasonable fear. She shivered in the cool evening air, “ I didn’t think I could survive it. What’s a Mikaelson without her family?” that question had been in the back of her mind since Clarke told her that she’d been erased. It rolled around like a stone in her head shattering her mental stability on a daily basis. 

Freya softened and brought her hand softly to tuck Hope’s hair behind her ear, “Darling, you may have been gone but you were never forgotten. There was a hole in our family and we may not have been able to place it but we knew something was wrong.” 

“I know, I know,” Hope stumbled, angry at herself for not trusting her family enough to go to them and fight for herself. 

“I’m not angry Hope, “ she said trying desperately to comfort the distraught young girl, “none of us are angry, I promise, we just want you safe.” 

Hope took a shaky breath, “ I’m ok,” it wasn’t a believable answer but it was a necessary lie that she had been telling herself for a long time now. 

Freya kept talking and Hope found comfort in the cadence and slight drawl of her voice,” We’ve fought for you your entire life and that doesn’t stop just because you manage to get yourself erased from existence - which might I add is quite incredible- but that isn’t how always and forever works.” 

Hope sinks back into her aunt’s arms, letting herself just be held, “ I love you aunt Freya, “ she mumbled, “ Always and forever.” 

“Always and forever darling.” 

She wished that moment could have lasted forever, but sadly all perfect peaceful moments must come to an end. She hears Josie gasp behind her and she pulls back to see Landon and Rafael approaching from the direction of the school. Landon was fed in the face and puffed up like a pufferfish as he stomped toward them. 

Her face turned a dark shade of red as Josie sunk back wrapping her arms around herself. Landon froze when he noticed who all was in the group he was heading to and then after a moment of contemplation he turned and walked the other direction. 

Hope releases a shaky breath, but whether it was relief or sadness she couldn’t tell. Josie seemed to have the same idea. Despite everything that had happened since they got here the two girls still hadn’t spoken to each other, Hope didn’t know what to say. Josie was one of the main reasons she’d kept her identity a secret, she didn’t want to hurt the younger girl, she was more than content to step back and let the two of them continue their relationship - well maybe not more than content but she had made her peace with it. Josie turned and fled the scene in the opposite direction of Landon, “Josie,” Hope called after her. She had no claim to comfort her, they were barely friends before everything and now things were worse than ever. 

Lizzie followed after her twin in a blonde flash and relief washed over her. Josie needed her sister right now. She didn’t need Hope. 

“I think I’m missing something here,” Freya commented, mildly cutting a strange look at her niece. 

“Please don’t ask,” Hope said, not willing to rehash all this just yet. Maybe soon she could talk about it but right now she just needed something stable. “Aunt Freya how long will you be in town?” she asked.

“However long you need me to,” Freya answered, slipping her hand into Hope’s and giving it a soft squeeze. 

She tried to force the storm brewing inside her to calm, she laid her head on Freya’s shoulder,” Do you have a place to stay? Do you have a hotel room?” The questions were odd but they were necessary.

“Not yet but I can get one. Why do you ask?” 

“Can I stay with you there please?” she asked meekly and once again averted eyes. She knew Freya wouldn’t say no but the shocked hesitation before her answer caused Hope to keep talking without thinking,” I mean I don’t mind the woods but it gets lonely out there you know.” she didn’t think about how she had been living the past few months would be a big deal if anything it was fairly obvious. She wasn’t living at the school anymore and with no money or compulsion powers, sleeping in the forest was the only option that would get her caught.

Her aunt’s eyes widened as she realized this, “ Hope Andrea have you been homeless in this godforsaken town?” a dark angry power radiated from Freya, and Hope worried that this town might pay the price for not keeping her safe. 

“Wolfed out in the woods is not the same as homeless,” she argued. Sadly that did nothing to placate her vengeful aunt.

She grabbed Hope’s hand and began to pull them away from the town square, “Come on Hope,” she nearly growls,” Let’s get you a room and I will sort this whole thing out.” 

[manikas-whims]

A Chance at Redemption [5]

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Chapter 5: The Damsel in Distress

"Look into her heart, you'll only find anguish... But look into her eyes and you'll feel hope..." -Ino Yamanaka

Sakura will never admit it to her conscience but she was more than desperate to prove her worth to the members of the FoK. People keep giving her fake sympathy for the sake of maintaining peace while in the insides, they blame her for every single act that goes wrong. She is sick of the treatment that she has been receiving for no apparent reason.

So, when she decided to put her escape plan into action, she heard the door to the shop being pushed open. She excused herself from the man examining the lilacs and walked to the door, making sure there were no flaws in her henge that could lead her into trouble. In a flash, she found herself hurled onto the cold, wooden floor and gasped.

"Caught you!" A familiar voice teased.

Confused, she opened her tightly shut eyes to look up at her captor making another shocked gasp escape her lips.

Ino knew the exact time at which Sakura leaves Konoha's Medical Hospital. Therefore, as noon approached and the pink-haired medic made an exit from the hospital to see the Hyuga heiress, Ino dragged her to her parent's flower shop. Of all the methods to convince Hinata into joining the FoK, Sakura plans in using some sweet-talk? No, it will never work-out. Ino has tried it numerous times herself but failed. She has still not been able to elicit a real smile from her best friend. Thus, to distract the pinkette from her plan, Ino engaged her with the job of handling the counter of the Yamanaka Flower Shop.

She herself was busy with some customers in the backyard for their in the back of the house, they keep all the exotic varieties that come from different places around the country. As she handed over the desired flowers to the last customer, she walked back to the main area of the house. There from the threshold, she saw Sakura talking to a man near a bunch of beautiful lilacs. She noticed the anxious expression present on the medic's face as if contemplating about doing something or not. All of a sudden, the door to the shop was pushed-open and the bell at the top of the door clattered. At the same time Sakura turned around to check on the latest customers entering the shop. But when Ino took-in the features of the odd duo, she made her feet motion the fastest they could and tackled her friend to the floor, making her gasp in shock.

"Caught you!" Ino muttered in a sing-song voice to grab her friend's attention away from the door.

Hearing her voice, Sakura looked up at her and gasped even more. Slowly her tense muscles began relaxing on meeting the gaze of her blonde best friend. For a moment there, she thought that some unknown enemy was trying to kill her only to realise that it was just her childhood friend. She sighed deeply and looked questioningly at Ino for her weird actions. The customers gave her even more questioning looks.

"Uh..." Ino thought before continuing to speak, her eyes scanning all the customers that were watching her and then finally settled on the strange pair of latest customers that had entered the shop.

"Trying to escape, now are we?" Ino glared at her as she spoke, "You already tire yourself with so much work at the hospital. I'm not letting you attend to every single customer here at the shop. Go back into the kitchen and take a snack-break." The blue-eyed girl ordered.

Sakura stood up and brushed off some fake dust from her clothes while walking inside the house, towards the kitchen, still suspicious of her friend's behaviour.

As soon as the girl disappeared, all the customers went back to their usual task of selecting flowers. Ino turned around to look at the two strange men, one eyeing her with concern while the other with hints of amusement. She stepped towards them and flashed them a small professional smile.

"How may I help you, Sirs?" She asked politely.

The amused one grinned at her from ear-to-ear, giving her a perfect view of his complete set of thirty-two, sharp teeth. He winked at her as if he had caught her in some inappropriate act and grinned wider if that was even possible. Two strange looking guys came at my house, one of whom was carrying a huge sword behind his back. The guy with the sword was very lean and had white hair that contrasted well with his violet irises. He also had very sharp, shark-like teeth. His partner on the other hand was tall and had scarlet-red irises and an unusual sort of fiery-orange hair. Ino recalled Shikamaru's vivid description of the two men and was now sure that these were the weird guys that he was talking about.

"Sorry for interrupting the moment with your girlfriend." He apologised in a mock tone.

Ino smiled again, "Hehe...we were just arguing, nothing more. You know, it's a friends thing."

The guy nodded and grinned. "Say, have you seen a girl around here with freakish, pink hair?" He asked.

"Pink hair?!" Ino faked a surprised look, "Now who would even dye their lovely hair into a shade of pink?!"

"No", the tall man spoke this time, "You're getting it wrong. Her hair colour is naturally pink."

"Although I still find it unbelievable," Ino flashed them her best oblivious-look and answered, "I'll say I haven't seen anyone around here like that. I am really sorry." She bowed gracefully before the two men.

They eyed her for a few seconds as if examining her for any hints of hesitation or fear but found none. Both exchanged a meaningful glance and nodded towards the blonde young woman. The taller one bowed his head before her and apologised for disturbing her while his partner sighed in exasperation and tugged him out of the shop.

The moment they were out of the place, Ino released a breath that she didn't realise she had been holding onto. With a sigh of relief, she left the customers to themselves and scurried towards the kitchen to find her friend.

.

.

On entering the kitchen, Ino felt no presence of a breathing, 18-year old female. Worriedly, she looked around in every nook and corner of the small room. She rushed to the backyard and slammed open the door. No signs of a dark haired girl with midnight black orbs. She scurried back to the kitchen and searched around again but to her dismay, she found nothing. A cool breeze swayed-past her skin and it was then that she noticed the large, oak window was wide open. Shit! Ino cursed inwardly on realising that Sakura was actually gone...

Sakura entered the kitchen with a frown stretching across her features. At first, it was only them who would criticise her behind her back but now her very own childhood best friend has started doing the same. The minute she began walking to attend to the latest customers at the Yamanaka Flower Shop, she was tackled to the floor by her friend. Ino didn't even allow her to take a peek at the customers and ordered her to go to the kitchen.

She is angry for always being held back like this but she never rebelled against any of her friends. Not even once did she go against the commands given to her. But when she saw the large, oak window in the room, a small devious smirk replaced her frown. She pushed it open and with one look to check if anyone was coming or not, she leaped out, feeling no chakra signatures.

As soon as she escaped and began heading down the pathway, her mind started formulating plans for her as there were still hours to spend before the beginning of the meeting. Convincing Hinata was the first thing on her list but she skipped it and moved onto the next goals on her list. Doing a quick check on her parents was second on the list, followed by seeing a five-year old patient at the hospital. She decided to visit Hinata as this is supposed to be the most important task in her list but for some weird reason, her feet took her to an old, scarcely populated area in Konoha. She continued walking, making her legs choose the directions for her. Her motion came to halt before a small, two-storey house and she smiled sadly at the place. The place has played too significant role in her life to be forgotten. She smiled at the front lawn, the stone pillars at the front gate, the wooden porch and at everything else that her eyes could intake at a glance.

How can she ever forget the one place where she didn't need to worry her head over every little thing? The only place where no one underestimated or made her feel inferior. The place where she had grown-up as a young innocent girl, only to be turned into a practical woman with time. Yes, this is the only place which she can never archive into the back of her mind's deepest pits. After all, it is her home.

She wanted to knock and enter at the very instant she saw it and yet she cannot. Her feet glued to the ground, she stared at the house for who knows how long, waiting by luck to get a glimpse of the two people that brought her into this not-so-beautiful world of the Shinobi. As if on cue, the door clicked open and she quickly masked her presence, hiding behind one of the huge pillars. A tall man in his fifties stepped down from the porch and began watering the shrubs in the lawn. The man's spiky, pale-purple hair had turned even lighter. It was now a shade more close to white. Another click was heard and Sakura moved her eyes away from her father to see her mother walk out of the same door. The thin woman joined her father in the task of watering the plants. Both exchanged a soft smile and continued.

It was right after the war that Madara began to hunt down every person related to the fifth hokage to publicly execute them. It was an unnecessary feat but Madara hated the Senjus and wanted every single one of them dead. He even couldn't stand the number of people who had become a part of Tsunade Senju's foster family and ordered to kill all the people acquainted with her. Sakura being one of them ran and hid herself away from everyone she knew. She went so far as to disguise herself as a normal doctor of the village. Ino and Sai were the only ones who knew about her alias and helped her out in blending with her new persona.

Later on, Ino informed everyone of their friends about her henge. Everyone but her parents. Ino argued many a times with her to reveal it to them but Sakura did not permit it. Instead, Sakura made Ino tell her parents that their daughter has been missing ever since the end of the war. With some hints of guilt and sorrow, her parents accepted the fake news about her daughter's disappearance. So now here they are, completely at peace with their life. They don't need to worry anymore about their good-for-nothing daughter. Sakura smiled at them again before leaving the grounds carefully so as to not get noticed by anyone in the area.

Now that she has seen her parents, she can move onto the most important task on her list- convincing Hinata Hyuga. With that goal set in her mind, she made her way to the Hyuga Compound.

.

On her way to Hinata's house, Sakura came across another familiar street. This place also holds many precious memories of her life; memories about the time when she was still an innocent twelve-year old. She smiled sardonically at the sight of her former team's favourite hangout spot, remembering about the past events and feeling just how much time has changed her into the woman that she is today. She straightened herself, wanting to skip the street altogether yet her mind told her to atleast pay respect to those old, joyful memories that had once been shared at the spot. Therefore, she sighed inwardly at her own weakness for her past and walked towards the place.

As she reached the place, she lifted one of the banners of her former teammate's favourite noodle shop and sat down on one of the vacant stools right next to a guy with a huge sword resting by his leg. She took a proper side-glance at the guy and saw him talking to a tall man with fiery, orange hair. To her, they appeared to be astonishingly familiar. Her mind was sure about having seen them before. Their names were stuck in her head but her tongue just couldn't put voice to them.

Think Sakura! Think! Sakura berated herself inwardly for not being able to recall their identities.

"Man...Sasuke is surely gonna kill us." The one sitting next to her muttered casually.

At the mention of her ex-teammate, Sakura gasped, making everyone turn their heads at her. She grinned apologetically.

"Oh!" The owner's daughter looked at her and Sakura almost jumped in fright. Almost.

"I'm sorry I didn't take your order." The girl apologised to her and Sakura sighed in relief.

"One pork ramen, please." She ordered and the girl left after bowing her head again.

That was close, she thought.

The guys went back to continue with their conversation as the one with orange hair shook his head in disagreement, "No, not us. He'll only kill you and that too just for being so care-free about everything he expects from us."

"Yeah...yeah..." The man next to her passed a hand through his white-hair in what seemed like irritation and spoke, "But there's no way that a girl with pink hair-"

"Pink hair?!" asked the shop-owner's daughter in a shocked voice.

Both of the guys looked back at her, equally surprised.

"You-you mean Sakura-san?" The young girl asked.

Sakura flinched at her name being called-out like that in a public spot and that also by a girl who used to know her. Instinctively, she scanned her whole form to check if her henge had any flaws that could put her own identity in any kind of jeopardy.

"You", the orange-haired man addressed the young girl politely, "Sakura-san, right? Do you..do you know her?" The man asked. Sakura gulped.

"Not quite," the girl answered sadly but genuinely, "I used to know her..."

"What's this supposed to mean?!" The white-haired guy asked.

At that very moment, Teuchi, the shop-owner who had presumably been busy preparing her pork ramen came over to the counter. The look on his face was a mix of sorrow, pity and determination. He bowed at each one of them before joining in the conversation as he felt the need to pull his daughter away from these strange-looking men.

"Sakura Haruno, yes, me and my daughter used to know her. She was one of our cherished regular customers until.." The man decided to leave his speech incomplete.

"Until?" The white-haired guy pressed on the matter, now showing hints of eagerness in the topic of discussion.

"...until she disappeared. No one knows how..but she just vanished after the war." Teuchi answered honestly.

The eagerness in the white-haired man's eyes was gone as disappointment took it's place. "Sasuke is sooo gonna kill me." He muttered to himself and stood-up from his stool. After paying the required sum of money to the young daughter of the shopkeeper, he left with his tall partner in tow.

Sakura relaxed her stiff muscles. She had been beyond scared by their presence right next to her. Suigetsu and Juugo- she recalled them the moment they started talking about Sasuke. She knows about them as she had once read about their identities in a bingo book. They are highly-skilled S-ranked criminals, known for their weird affinity to killing but what's more noticeable is that they were once a part of Sasuke's rogue team, Taka. For them to be searching for her, is not an everyday activity that can be taken lightly. Not to mention, one of them said that Sasuke is going to kill him. This probably means that the whole matter is somewhat linked with Sasuke. Staying as far as possible from them will be the best for her.

But..., she thought. If they know Sasuke then they can take her to meet him. And if she meets Sasuke then she can confront him about the 'Hyuga Clan Annihilation' and maybe convince him to stop it from occurring altogether. Yes! Maybe there's no need for her to waste her time on convincing a girl as broken as herself? Maybe all that she must do is talk to the people who will play a major role in this mass killing, especially because she knows one of the man involved. Or...used to know...

Worried in a miasma of her thoughts about having to meet her ex-teammate again, she shook her head. No, I must not do this. But...what if... If Sasuke is actually related to this whole search for her then maybe she can use it to her advantage and help out Neji and his clan from being completely exterminated. And also, this will prove her worth to the members of the FoK.

Yes! I must give it a try! She told herself and stood-up from the stool that she had occupied.

Teuchi looked back at her questioningly.

"I'm sorry I need to go. Please cancel the order I had placed a few minutes ago." With that request made, she exited the shop and ran towards the two S-ranked criminals.

.

"Excuse me!" She called out loudly to the weird duo, making them turn back to face her with their confused eyes.

"What is it?" Suigetsu asked.

"I...I was there, sitting next to you guys at Ichiraku's Ramen Shop." She reminded them.

"Yeah so?" Suigetsu quirked his brows emphatically.

Sakura took a deep breath and looked at the two rogue shinobis standing before her. It is dangerous, very dangerous to talk to them so directly about anything but she has no other choice. From the inside, her whole form is shaking in fear but on the outside, she is just breathing raggedly. If she succeeds then everyone in the FoK will be extremely delighted because of the loss of one big burden from their heads. But everything depends on her conversation with these two acquaintances of Sasuke. She must choose every word very cautiously. Go on Sakura! This is it!

"The girl you were talking about...I know her." She admitted, plastering one of the most serious expressions on her face.

A long pause followed her confession to the two men. Neither of them uttered a word to her. Instead they stared at her without any twitching of their eyes. After what felt like eternity, they exchanged a nod and turned back to her.

Suigetsu swung his huge sword and placed it's paper thin, sharp edge at Sakura's neck. She gasped in fear, wondering what did she do to offend them after having chosen the most appropriate words.

"If this is some kind of sick joke then I'll give you a chance to apologise." Suigetsu hissed.

Sakura's eyes widened, "What?! No! This is definitely not a joke." She shook her head, making the sharp blade faintly graze the skin on her neck. "I really do know about her whereabouts..but this is.." she took a deep breath, "this a very confidential information and I will only reveal about this to your leader."

The blade on her neck pushed harder at her skin, breaking it so that a small trail of blood began cascading down her throat.

"I'm not lying, I swear on my life!" She yelled harshly.

The blade was removed from her neck as she was pulled roughly into the arms of the mist ninja. He took her left hand's palm in his own right hand's palm and whispered threateningly in her ear, "If I find out about you feeding lies to us, then I'll cut every single finger of your palm, one-by-one. Do you understand?" He traced each one of her dainty fingers with his calloused thumb as he spoke the threat.

She licked her lips in anxiety and shakily nodded her head, "Yes! Yes I do." Suigetsu grinned evilly at her reply and let go of her frail form. He himself gave a nod to Juugo and then started dragging Sakura towards their destination- The Uchiha Compounds.

Sasuke is sure that he had declared to Madara about finding the woman of his choice by tonight. However, his words were only spoken to keep his arrogant pride alive. He never expected his announcement to turn into a reality. So when his ex-teammates from Taka came back with the news that a certain woman wishes to speak with him in the case of the person he's been itching to see again, he was shell-shocked. He glared at the two guys who were awaiting his next orders patiently.

"Are you trying to trick me?!" He shouted.

Before Suigetsu could use his sword-sharp tongue to speak words of equal magnitude to that of Sasuke's, Juugo intervened. He stopped the mist swordsman and took a step forward to stand face-to-face with the young Uchiha Prodigy.

"Sasuke we aren't lying about this. That woman is desperately waiting to tell you about the pink-haired girl you'd asked us to look for." Juugo explained.

Sasuke glared at them again but then sat down on his couch. Only two words were uttered from his lips and that too in a commanding tone, "Bring her."

Sakura stood up from the porch when the two rogue ninjas approached her. She was forcefully pulled inside the huge Uchiha Mansion by a very pissed Suigetsu. She wondered what had happened with him while she was waiting here outside. She also pondered about what will happen to her now that she has been taken in. Juugo clicked open a door that probably led into the living room and entered. She had no other choice but to follow because of the former mist nin's vice-like grip on her wrist.

The minute she stepped inside the room, she realised that it was dimly lit, making only a few features noticeable in the room. She looked around and spotted a silhouetted figure sitting atop the couch. Sasuke, she can recognise him anytime and anywhere just by his spiky hairstyle. One could only feel his presence as not even a single part of his skin was visible in the darkness of the room.

"We brought her." Suigetsu said.

Sasuke didnot respond to his Taka teammate's words. Instead he assessed the three of them silently. His interest suddenly piqued when his Sharingan finished examining the dark-haired woman who had come along to see him.

"Is it true that you are looking for Sakura Haruno?" The woman asked, trying her best to sound professional.

"Yes. Yes I am." He answered with hints of mockery in his tone.

"I can...I can give you her location. But only if-"

She stopped speaking when she felt the shuffling of his feet. He vacated his spot on the couch and walked towards her. His steps came to a halt when he was standing inches away from her.

He tilted his head down to look at her and asked, "If what?"

Her breathing hitched and she stumbled back to put some distance between him and herself. Her voice stuttered as she answered, "I-I-I want you-I want you to do something for me in exchange-for her location"

In two short steps, he breached the gap that she had created between them. He again tilted his head down at her and with a smug smirk stretching across his lips, he spoke, "What do you want, Sa-ku-ra ?"

A/N: So this is where this chapter ends. Hehe XD Sasuke knew it was her.

What do you think about this chapter?

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Hope it was worth the wait...:)

*NEXT CHAPTER WILL POSTED WHEN THIS ONE REACHES 20 NOTES.

~Manika

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#6 Drunk Anti headcanon fic thing

@anothermarkiplierfan posted I wonder what Anti’s like when he’s drunk. 

It hit a sweet spot...  I need to talk about this. I’m inspired.

This began as headcanon and became fic.  Don’t know why.   But I got inspired at the thought of a drunken Anti.  

No real warnings.  It’s Anti so, no rainbows, but it’s fairly safe.  It’s LONG though. Grab snacks.

I feel the only place Jack would get drunk enough for this to be an issue is after hours at PAX with his friends. Or maybe after the Revelmode Charity stream in Brighton in December.  

Imagine him sitting in a room with Mark and Felix, playing shot Cards Against Humanity or shot Would You Rather with the camera rolling in the corner for later editing.  The girls in another, more adult room, drinking and sharing funny stories about lamenting their lives with Youtubers.

Initially Jack’s buzzing and getting increasingly funny as his social filter slowly erodes with the alcohol killing off signals from his frontal lobe; his conscience. Felix and he are roasting Mark for not being able to drink, but he hasn’t realised that the Viking in the room has challenged his Irish Celt pride. They’re competing.

There comes a point - and Jack feels it happen - that tilts his perception.  A stage jump into the next level of drunk. Tunnel vision.  He knows this one, it’s his cue to stop drinking, but his inhibitions are down, there’s a Viking to compete with and he’s not making the best decisions right now. Despite his vision being blurred around the edges he’s still having a riot with his friends. Sober Mark’s running circles around the pair of them and Felix is so drunk that he’s more of a car crash than usual and it’s the funniest fucking shit.  He’s sore from laughing so hard. He’s blaming the itchy eye on his blurred vision.

The tipping point only happens when he moves.  He reaches forward to pour himself another drink and the room lurches around him.  Everything greys as he fights a sudden hot rush of nausea.  He tells himself not to vomit, but this is different.  It’s not the drink that’s rising, it’s something worse.  He tries to fight it back and gain control, but he’s fucking paralytic so control isn’t his strong point. He’s fucked and he knows it.  It’s stronger, it’s claiming control and he’s weak from the alcohol.  He belts out a panicked “God, I’m sorry!” to his friends then laughs.

The laugh is gut churning and Mark is instantly on his feet.  Felix explodes into laughter at the absurdity of what just happened, but Mark’s not laughing. Mark’s not even smiling.  He’s slowly backing away from Jack’s seat and trying to silently hand gesture Felix to be quiet.  Felix is too drunk to figure it out until Mark asks Jack where Jack is.  

“Jack’s taking a timeout.”  He pops up into a crouch, pounce-ready, and giggles maniacally, “I’m here now.”

“Anti?” Mark asks.

“Bullshit!” Felix snorts, but the joke dies in his mind as he finally gets his eyes to focus enough to see that Jack isn’t simply a sickly shade, but the air around him is… muddy, it’s dark, swimming somehow.  But he knows he’s drunk so refuses to trust what he’s seeing. How can he trust his brain’s interpretation of Jack’s eyes?  They can’t be real.  They can’t be!

Mark’s voice breaks his descent into panic. “Waddya want Anti?”

“Fun.”  Anti leaps at Mark like a fucking velociraptor, all teeth and claws, but Mark’s sober.  He dodges just enough and uses Anti’s momentum to hurl him into the wall behind.  Anti’s not even fazed, he’s straight back to a sneering crouch.  “See?” he laughs, “Fun.”  He’s upright in a second, grinning and glaring at Mark with his head dipped.  His focus shifts to a drunk, wide-eyed Felix on the sofa and his head snaps almost ninety degrees to his shoulder. He lurches towards Felix and Mark lunges at him to intercept, but Anti dodges, staggers sideways and loses his footing, crashing to the floor in a snarled yelp of surprise.  “FUCK!”

Felix descends into flat-out panic mode, his drunken mind cyclically trying and failing to understand what he’s seeing, to grasp that Anti is here and just tried to attack him. His broken whispered chant that Anti isn’t real.  He’s a prank, a fan service.  Anti can’t be real.  

Anti hauls himself back to his feet, but momentum takes him forward and he staggers again, buckling down to the floor.  Marks stands over him and folds his arms triumphantly.  “Go home, Anti. You’re drunk”

“He’s not even REAL!” Felix yells.

Mark risks taking his eyes off Anti for a moment to offer Felix a slight sympathetic smile.  “Yeah… I advised Jack not to tell you, you wouldn’t understand.  You don’t have one.”

“One what?  What the fuck IS that thing?”

Mark shrugs lightly.  “I dunno.  A …moth, I guess.  The brighter some people are, the darker the moth they attract.  Anti’s the fuckin’ worst!”

Anti giggles. “Good analogy.   Does it help you sleep?”

Mark sighs at the creature on the floor.  “No,” he admits, “but if it helps Jack sleep…”

“Oh, he’s awake.” Anti sneers,  “I’m making him watch.” He pulls himself up again, leaping at Felix with teeth bared, but Mark reacts just in time, grabbing the back of Anti’s collar mid-air and yanking him back to the floor.  Anti screams in frustration, scrambles up, falls and screams again.  He manages to sit up, rocking and growling while gnawing at his fingers in temper.

Mark crouches before him, well out of arm’s reach.  “Sleep it off, Anti. Don’t make me call Him up.”

Anti pauses and grins.  “Your ‘moth’” he air-quotes, “is weak.”

Mark’s not stupid.  Dark’s strong, he’s capable, but Anti is something straight from Lovecraft’s nightmares.  He can feel Dark’s threats not to involve him, he’s refusing to admit he’s scared, but he’s cautious.  Drunken Anti is at a definite disadvantage though, so Mark calls his bluff instead.  “And you’re too drunk to stand, let alone fight.  You’re not winning this one.  Sleep it off.”

The rocking intensifies, a low growl pitches into a long wailing whine and, inexplicably, Anti burst into tears. “I don’t wanna! You can’t make me…”

Felix sits up, “Is he-?”  

Mark frantically gestures him to shut up.  He changes his tone to deal with Anti’s drunken moodswing. “No one can make you do anything.  But you know… You can exist alongside Jack.  You can-”

“No!” he snaps, twitching in frustration,  “You don’t. F-fucking. Understand. It hurts! He’s too fucking bright.  He burns.”

“Then leave him.”

“I’m trapped!” Anti’s shoulders sag in defeat, suddenly more desperate to talk than destroy.  “It’s like…” his eyes rake the room and Mark reaches for the vodka bottle, handing it to him, shuddering a little as long, thin, bloodied fingers slowly curl around the bottle. Anti takes a long, gulping swig and realises that he’s too drunk and relaxed to twitch so much.  It’s an odd relief.  “It’s like… I’m not a moth to a flame… I’m fucken’ Icarus! He was SO bright. And… n’ like… The Sun’s a prison… I mean, the drink weakened his bars… his conscience, and… and him, so I’m out n’ shit, but it’s just fucken day release, ya know?  I’m back behind fucken bars when he sobers up tomorrow.  Am I making sense?  I don’t feel like I’m making sense.”

Mark understands.  “You’re trapped behind his conscience.”

“S’too strong!” he slurs, succumbing to a twitch, “S’a prison.”

“He’s a good guy.” Mark confirms.

“Prison.” Anti nods, taking another gulp of Vodka.  “Doesn’t e-even know I’m there.”

“He knows.”

“Nope.  I talk at him all the time.  Give him ideas n’ shit. Urges. Fucken… radio silence.  Every time. Nothin’.”

“He knows. He gave you air time at Halloween.”

“Pretended… to cover up my appearances. Now there’s silence.  He’s shiny and bright and s-silent.  I just… I just want…” he takes a swig and waves the bottle in a grand drunken gesture, the twitches peaking again in his anger, “something! Some hint, some f-fucken indication that I’m n-not a-alone.  It’s bright and it burns and I’m so alone!  I’m alone in my own p-personal Hell!  He won’t even acknowledge me! I’m NOT going back to silence!”

Mark takes a large composing inhale and sighs.  There’s a tragedy in this and it’s not just Jack who’s suffering.  He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials Amy.  He tries to keep his voice calm and light while carefully explaining that he needs Wiishu to come check on her drunk boyfriend.  He has to explain that no, it’s not a drunken prank for the video and it’s not something to panic over.  

She’s on her way.  He has no idea how she’s going to react.

“Stop chewing your fingers!” Felix snaps, “Make him stop eating his fingers, it’s making me sick!”

Mark looks to Anti who’s still rocking, managing to look both devastated and horrific while gnawing on bloody fingers.  “Jack’s gonna need those, buddy.”

Anti pauses and studies the mess he’s made of his fingertips from different angles.  “These are MY fingers.” he states flatly, “Jack’s are inside. Safe. Whenever I retreat, mine are inside Jack’s, so I can use him like a puppet.” he chuckles sadly, “‘Cept it never works.”  He takes another drink and stretches his arms out.  “You ever notice how long Jack’s arms are?  Like… seriously… I had to stretch to fit.  He’s sooo long!”  He flexes his bloodied, spindly fingers and drunkenly grins to himself.  “I’m longer.”

Anti’s now at the terrifying monster equivalent of the ‘I love you’ stage of drunk. He’s muttering to himself and smiling at the vodka bottle. He poses minimal threat now and it’s oddly endearing. Mark has already decided he pities Anti by the time Wiishu knocks on the door.  

She doesn’t react to the news the way he’d expect, displaying more annoyance than anything else.  She approaches the slumped entity and kicks his foot.  “How drunk are you?”

“That’s not Jack.” Felix warns.

“I know.” she replies, kicking Anti’s foot again.  Anti looks up and curls his blood stained lips into a snarl.  “Have you been crying?” she asks with a grimace, “You’re fucking pathetic.”  Mark and Felix exchange worried glances.  

Mark tries to explain what Anti had confessed about being lonely and Jack not acknowledging his existence.  He told her that he’d hoped she could help in some way.

She folds her arms and glares at the drunken, bloodied mess on the floor.  “Why should I help you?  After all the nightmares?  After everything you’ve tried to make him do? Tried to put him through?  Fuck you!”

“Tried!” Anti snapped back.  “I tried!  And every time that he ig-ignores me I have to try harder cos he doesn’t even notice! I get louder and louder to be heard.  He doesn’t hear me!”

“He fucking hears you!  He thought he was going insane before Halloween.  Thankfully you fucked up enough to manifest and prove those urges weren’t his.  You’re an insidious little creep and fuck you for hurting him.”

“He’s fuckin’ f-fine!”

“Is he conscious?”

“Barely.  We’re drunk.”  He lets his head fall back, smiling up at her in satisfaction.  “But he can hear me now.  He’s drunk, but… he’s willing to bargain… cos I got the wheel and you’re pretty…”

Mark grips a handful of green hair. “You’re too drunk to hurt her, but if he hears you, he hears me.  Hang in there, buddy, we got this.”

Anti rips his head away leaving a few hairs in Mark’s grip and hisses at him. “You got shit!”

Mark, in his anger, leans in, “And what have YOU got?”

Anti’s grip on the vodka bottle tightens and Mark sees his error too late, but before Anti has chance to smash it into his face, Wiishu touches his arm, smiling kindly when he looks at her in shock.  She sits next to him and silently gestures for the bottle.  Cautiously he hands it to her.  She takes a small swig and hands it back.  “He only ignores you when you try to convince him to hurt someone.”

“It’s my n-nature.”

“I know.” she replies softly, “but he’d acknowledge you whenever it’s safe.  He actually has a soft spot for you.”

Anti doesn’t respond to this, his head twitching to the side as he tries to detect the lie.  

“You know it’s true,” she smiles, “he thinks you’re cool.  His community think you’re cool.  You just gotta… let him sleep. Tone it down. He hears you.”

“I n-need…  I… I’m so alone.”

Wiishu raises her hand subconsciously to stroke his hair in comfort and he jolts violently towards her fingers, juddering into the caress.  She only flinches for a second, then actually guides his head down onto her lap, running her fingers through his polarised green hair.  “This is better.” she whispers, “You’re not alone.”  Anti’s eyes close and he drunkenly releases the bottle to curl his bloody fingers at his throat.  “I’ll do you a deal,” she whispers, “Sleep now and when he wakes I’ll convince him to listen for you.  Maybe even find a horror game you can help him play…”  

Anti’s eyes remain closed as he drowsily murmurs, “Promise.”

“No promises, but I’ll talk to him.  Remember all the adoration you got from the community?  You can have that again.  You can communicate ideas with him. Get them all shitting themselves.  That’d be fun, right?”  Anti nods and smiles.  “Now sleep.  Let him rest.  “We got you.”

Anti twitches violently and Jack inhales sharply, murmuring, frowning against a nightmare, his clean, unbloodied fingers flexing beneath his chin.  “I got you.” his girlfriend whispers, stroking his faded green hair.

“Are we done?” Felix asks, “Can I breathe now?  Holy fuck!”

“Honestly forgot you were there.” Mark quips.  “You’re never that quiet.”

“And Jack’s never that scary.  I wasn’t hitting his radar. Too fucking drunk for this shit.”

“Go to bed. And for fuck’s sake, don’t tell Marzia.”

“Are they okay?” Felix asks, “Are you okay, Wiish, need a hand?”

“I’ll do it, you’re drunk. Get off the sofa.” He crouches before them, “Let me help you.”  Jack’s heavier than he looks, but Mark gets him onto the newly vacated sofa without waking him.

He fetches water while Wiishu makes him comfortable.  When he returns she’s writing a note.  

You were too drunk to wake, so I left you here I love you W

“That wasn’t your first encounter, was it?” he asks.

She looks up then back to her sleeping boyfriend and smiles,  “To some he’s a flame. To us he’s The Light.” she whispers, before kissing his head, “He’ll never be rid of Anti, but darkness can’t blow candles out.”