#and being able to leave the room for everyone’s safety instead of making everything a confrontation
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cjsmalley · 1 day ago
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Let's Party, Miroku and Sango!
A/N: I'm going to Vegas for a week starting tomorrow so no updates after this for a week.
Sango and Miroku managed to pass through the well portal with ease, having left Kirara with Kaede for the village’s safety, and knew not to freak out when they landed on the other side. Which stank to even their human noses.
InuYasha picked up Kagome and Shippo, who was already wearing his amulet and nasal strip, and leapt clear from the well. He audibly set Kagome on her feet before turning around, leaning over the well lip, and reaching down to haul the slayer and the monk up by their hands.
With everyone out of the well, Kagome and Shippo led the way from the now crowded wellhouse and to the Higurashi home where Missus Higurashi held the door open, “Welcome to Tokyo, and Higurashi Shrine, dears.”
“Thank you, Missus Higurashi,” Miroku and Sango chorused with a bow each.
Missus Higurashi chuckled and waved them in, stopping InuYasha and asking worriedly, “Where’s Imari?”
He chuckled low, “Sleep over with grandparents. Dad heard about our plans tonight and kidnapped her.”
Missus Higurashi smiled, nodding, and let him in.
Kagome ushered everyone upstairs, with InuYasha and Miroku heading into Souta’s room while the girls went to Kagome’s. Shippo remained downstairs as he wasn’t going out with the adults and was instead learning about video games from Souta.
Kagome dug around in her closet before pulling out a shopping bag and a box. She had an almost manic gleam in her eyes as, for the next hour, Sango became indistinguishable from the hordes of Tokyo girls also going out for a night of fun. Though Kagome had gone more…conservative for her friend’s outfit.
Still, Sango had doubts as she tugged at her shirt, “Kagome, are you sure—I mean, the fabric is so thin?”
“You’re fine, Sango,” Kagome reassured as she dressed similarly, “the bra hides everything. Besides, what we’re wearing could be considered, well, frumpy. For a night out anyways.”
She took her friend by the shoulder and steered her from the room, “Just stick with me or InuYasha and you’ll be fine…Looking good, Miroku!”
Miroku had of course been forced to leave his monk’s robes behind and dress as a modern young man. He was wearing a glove on his curse-cured hand, thick enough to hide the scars but snug enough not to fall off.
The group reconvened in the living room, InuYasha already wearing his amulet, and Kagome spoke, “Remember, you live around the hospital I go to for my illnesses. Sango, you work in the family business of pest control. We met when they asked your father to fumigate a room. Miroku, you’re her boyfriend. You were training to be a monk but gave it up for Sango. We met because you volunteered your services at the hospital. InuYasha has a rare blood syndrome and has agreed to see if his blood can help me. I’m on experimental medicine right now, we don’t know all the side-effects yet. Shippo is InuYasha’s orphaned cousin we adopted because he has a similar blood syndrome. He’s home with my mom. That’s actually the truth.”
Everyone nodded and memorized their cover stories, while Kagome specifically warned Miroku, “Keep your hands off anyone not Sango. You can get in serious trouble for touching girls, and I’m not just talking about angry boyfriends! The law can get involved, you will be at least jailed for the night.”
“Yes, Kagome,” Miroku’s eyes were wide at the prospect of being jailed—jailed!—for his wandering hand. And Kagome had already told them the town guards—called police now—were much more competent than in their time.
“Sango, do not take drinks from strangers,” Kagome warned her friend tiredly, “and always have a hand on your drink if not eyes. If you have to leave your drink unattended then you get a new one.”
“You worry about poison?” Sango questioned.
“Of a type. There’s this drug, poison, that can make you—you could be raped while under the effects and not be able to fight back.”
“Gods. Is there no antidote?”
“Yes, and it doesn’t kill…unless you have a really bad reaction or allergy. You can usually sleep it off. But it will take all your strength and wits from you.”
Kagome looked to both her Feudal Age friends, “We watch each other’s backs out there, okay? Now, we’re going to meet up with Ayumi and a couple more friends. Those friends don’t know what I really do. Hence the cover story. They think you’re from a very rural prefecture. Ayumi, at least, will watch out for you. Follow her cues. Follow my cues. Hells, follow InuYasha’s cues. Just try not to panic.”
Sango and Miroku nodded and, with goodbyes to the Higurashis staying home, ventured forth into the modern world of Tokyo.
At the bottom of the stairs out, sat a van. Ayumi had just gotten her driver’s license and Missus Higurashi had rented a van instead of having her daughter’s visiting friends make the journey on foot or by train.
Three girls Kagome’s age were waiting outside the van and squealed at the sight of her, thankfully missing InuYasha’s scrunched up face of discomfort as he still had his advanced hearing even while under the amulet, before rushing to hug her.
“Kagome! You look so healthy!” one said breathlessly.
“New medicine, we’re hoping this’s the one,” Kagome lied easily.
“It must be working!” said another.
“Not having to worry about school also helps,” Kagome said truthfully before redirecting them, “girls, I want you to meet my friends, Miroku and Sango. Guys, this’s Eri and Yuka.”
Eri and Yuka gushed about meeting Kagome’s other friends, asking about their lives and gauging their personalities as everyone clambered into the vehicle.
“Where’s Imari?” Ayumi questioned InuYasha near silently. Imari was still a secret from Eri and Yuka after all. Until she was old enough to safely wear an amulet of her own.
“With my parents,” InuYasha whispered from the corner of his mouth.
Ayumi nodded very slightly to show that she heard.
So they started their trip further into the city.
“We picked a family friendly club,” Yuka enthused to Kagome before explaining to her rural friends, “that means it serves all ages. No alcohol. No very loud music—Kagome says InuYasha has ear problems due to his blood thingy—Kagome, did you have to dress them like that?”
“They still wear yukatas and jinbei out by the hospital,” Kagome argued, “I wasn’t giving them culture shock! Have you seen what some girls wear to clubs?”
“Point,” Eri conceded, nodding, “did you tell Sango about—”
“Yeah. She knows. We’re watching out for them right, girls?”
“Oh, yes!” Yuka and Eri chorused, Ayumi lagging a little as she drove, with Eri adding, “Just stick with us and you’ll be okay!”
They meandered, for a van anyway, through the streets of Tokyo. It was not a huge shock, the modern world Kagome came from, because of the tent but Sango and Miroku had to hold in gasps at the crowded buildings, the giant “screens” blaring “advertisements” for goods beyond their imaginations. At how populated the city must be for even so many people to be out near sundown and beyond.
“Are you sure this is safe, Kagome?” Miroku asked, playing up the naïve former monk-in-training idea instead of looking stupid or out of place.
“Stay with the group and it is,” Eri answered, “no wandering off, okay? You could get lost in Tokyo easily. In fact, we’ll use the buddy system. Miroku, you’ll be my buddy. Sango, you’ll stick with Yuka. That way Kagome and InuYasha don’t have to worry about looking out for you two.”
“And no using your self-defense training unless you really think someone’s in danger, Sango,” Kagome chirped suddenly, “I know you’re going to be a little jumpy tonight but follow Yuka’s cues.”
“Yes, Kagome,” Sango replied.
“You have self-dense training?” Yuka asked curiously.
“Yes, Father w—is very sure that one day I may need to protect myself, so he made me study the martial arts along with my schooling.” Sango only lied a little, “He has made me a little…paranoid.”
“That’s so cool!” enthused Eri, “And Miroku you were going to be a monk, right?”
“Ah, yes. My mother abandoned me to my father,” Miroku spoke truthfully, “as she did not want a child. Father raised me with the help of an old friend, Master Mushin. Master Mushin is a monk. Father died while I was young and I had no other family so Master Mushin took me into his temple,” Miroku thought for a second or two but continued, “Master Mushin is a wonderful monk though he has some bad habits he passed down…please, if I touch you inappropriately, report to my dearest Sango and she’ll set me straight. Things are a little different in the city, Kagome informed us.”
“Oooh, okay. We’ll tell you to stop too,” Eri promised, “but you gave all that monk stuff up for Sango? How romantic!”
Miroku smiled warmly at Sango, “I would give up many things for Sango. While the Buddha asks his most devoted followers to give up much, I have to believe he also knows True Love must be acted upon.”
“Why are you wearing that glove?” Yuka asked suddenly.
“Terrible scar from a youthful accident,” Miroku lied smoothly, “it is quite distracting and tends to itch. To stop me from scratching and thus bleeding and causing infections, Kagome suggested a glove of some type.”
“That’s our smart Kagome,” Yuka crowed softly.
“We’re here,” Ayumi cut through the conversation as the van slowed and pulled into a parking lot.
Everyone unbelted when the car parked and got out, Sango noticeably nervous. Miroku took her hand consolingly and also because he was a little nervous as they began walking towards the venue.
It was pulsating with colored lights and they could barely hear music of some sort as they joined the line for entrance. The two Feudal people were a little relieved to see there were indeed younger and older people waiting for entrance.
The guard pressed some sort of stamp to the back of their hands after Kagome had paid a fee of some sort.
“It shows you’ve already paid, so you can go in and out,” Eri showed off the stamp on her hand, “the color means we’re not allowed to buy alcohol if they served any because we can’t legally drink.”
Ah, that made sense so Sango and Miroku let themselves be escorted inside by their buddies for the night.
“Too loud?” Kagome asked InuYasha who shrugged.
“Just a little but I’ll be fine,” he answered, “I’ve been under worse…Ember concerts are not fun on my ears…”
“Why did Kagome pay?” Miroku asked Eri who took him to the side where a bartender tended his collection.
“So, the club needs money to work,” Eri explained, “so you can either pay just to get in and then pay more for drinks, food, entertainment, stuff like that, or you can pay more to cover everything. So we just pooled our money to cover everything for the night. That way you and Sango just have to show your stamp—shape says we paid for everything—and you won’t have to pay.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Miroku complimented.
Eri shrugged, “InuYasha actually paid most of it; apparently his dad is rich? He lives with Kagome now but he had an apartment in another city.”
They made it to the bar and started ordering drinks.
Yuka had also taken Sango aside, Ayumi with them, to take a seat at a larger table. She had explained much the same thing as Eri and then waved down a waiter to begin ordering food.
“I—I don’t know what half this stuff is,” Sango admitted, before explaining, “we eat very traditionally around the hospital. Kagome and InuYasha have brought some food from the city but…”
Yuka nodded in sympathetic understanding, “It must be shocking, the city? Okay, let’s just get a little of everything. Can we do that? Some sort of sample platter for her?” she asked the waiter, “She’s not from the city, she’s visiting.”
The waiter smiled, “I’ll see what can be done; anything for you girls?”
Yuka and Ayumi ordered appetizers and the waiter swept away to the kitchen as Eir and Miroku joined them, bearing platters of drinks.
“We’re starting Sango and Miroku on water,” Eri explained as they passed out the drinks, “I got some lemon and cucumber slices if you want some…where are…?”
“Out on the dance floor,” Yuka nodded to her left.
She was right; there InuYasha and Kagome were, dancing and laughing.
“Good for them!” Eri declared as she sat down.
“You should’ve seen how sick Kagome was while we were in school,” Yuka confided in Miroku and Sango, “girl looked like a zombie on the days she actually showed up.”
“Oh, yeah,” Eri agreed, “at first, we blamed InuYasha—because we hadn’t met him or seen how he fretted over her. He must’ve been doing something. It did start the same time she started dating him.”
“Rumor was she was strung out on drugs,” Yuka continued, “but we checked her, no needle marks. Didn’t mean she wasn’t doing anything but…then we found out how sick she was, how the doctors had to call up InuYasha and ask for his help. We thought she was going to die, guys.  She got stronger because of the physical therapy but she was still so sick! It was one thing after another for the poor girl! Every new symptom meant a new drug meant she got better then sicker!”
Miroku and Sango nodded attentively.
“InuYasha looked after her so closely when she came home,” Eri picked up, “we could tell they were already in love, but he was in school in a different city so he couldn’t always be with her. We weren’t surprised when they married, were we girls?”
Ayumi and Yuka shook their heads as the waiter returned with the appetizers and, yes, a sample platter for Sango and Miroku to try.
“Or when they officially adopted Shippo,” Ayumi added, “poor boy deserves parents that look him and we know Kagome and InuYasha do.”
“Let’s just hope Kagome doesn’t die on him. Losing three parents might be too much for the kid.” Yuka said sadly.
“Even when Kagome’s in the hospital she does her best to mother Shippo,” Sango assured, picking at an odd food like it might attack but willing to try it, “and when she can’t she arranges playdates with the village children while she is treated. The village has taken them as our own. We look after Shippo while InuYasha’s with her.”
“That’s amazing.” Eri exclaimed.
“What’s amazing?” asked Kagome as she led InuYasha to the table and they took seats.
“That the villagers around the hospital have accepted Shippo,” Yuka replied.
“Oh, yeah, they have,” Kagome smiled warmly as she thought about how the villagers by the well had taken to Shippo, allowing their children to play unattended with the kitsune kit. But what really warmed her heart was their acceptance of hanyou, though the groundwork had been laid in Kikyo’s time; InuYasha was a well-respected man in the village and none of the other mothers had second thoughts about looking after Imari for a few minutes when needed. Hanyou weren’t hated or even distrusted based on their blood alone in their village. And even Sesshomaru, Jaken, and A-Un found wary respect when they brought Rin to the village for whatever reason. The inuyoukai lord certainly had found no fault in the girl’s treatment yet as she was always excited to see her uncle and his pack and was always returned in the same condition as she was left.
For the rest of the night the group had fun as any young adults did, even Sango and Miroku loosened up and took turns on the dance floor.
They were home by midnight as previously agreed and the demon slayer and monk said grateful goodbyes to their new friends as they had to leave for their village the next morning.
That night’s plans were a success and their cover still intact so Kagome and InuYasha counted it as a win.
Wished Away 10
A Mother-Daughter Talk:
“When I first started a relationship with the Doctor,” Rose began, watching the man in question play with her little brother, their pseudo-daughter, and their actual daughter, “a real one, more than whatever the hell we were doin’ before, he warned me. No kids.”
Jackie gasped, “You mean he didn’t want a—?”
Rose gave a bitter laugh, “No, like, literally. We couldn’t have kids. Too different, genetic wise. He’d need another Time Lord or Lady, that’s what the women were called, Time Ladies, ta…Loom a kid with. He may have the parts, Mum, an’ be able ta use ‘em, but they didn’t make or carry babies like humans do. The babies were…best translation is ‘woven together’ by machines out of two separate DNA sources. Then they were given over ta professionals—like foster-parents almost. Nobody raised their own kids… He isn’t even sure how exactly his granddaughter was related ta him, just that she wasn’t a daughter but was a direct descendant.”
Jackie was gaping at her daughter.
“Not even Bad Wolf makes us compatible, even if we had a Loom. “Cause he’s shootin’ blanks…an’…’m sterile too now…”
“Rose!”
“I don’t…my eggs might still be good, but I don’t ovulate or get monthlies anymore,” Rose explained, “’m frozen, exactly how I was when Bad Wolf took me. Nothing ‘bout me can change permanently. I don’t even scar. Haven’t had to cut or dye my hair since then either. My nails don’t grow. I wasn’t ovulatin’ or bleedin’ so I don’t anymore. I never will again.”
“Oh, Rose…”
“I’d do it again,” Rose assured her mother firmly, “even if ya went back an’ warned me ‘bout all this. I’d’ve taken any help I could to save him…We’re lucky Bad Wolf’s so benevolent. She could stuff me inside my own head permanently an’ there’d be nothin’ we could do ‘bout it. Not even the Doctor.”
“Rose…what did you do?” Jackie whispered shakily, “When you first met Bad Wolf?”
“I don’t remember,” Rose admitted, “Bad Wolf says I traded my life for the Doctor’s—Jack’s only alive cause she was feeling nice—the mortal life an’ death ahead of me. All my possible futures as a mortal human woman, gone. I had one thought, Mum; the Doctor. I had ta get back ta him. Didn’t care ‘bout anythin’ else. Apparently, Clockwork says we’re literal soulmates. I’d’ve survived his death but I would—either grieve for the rest of my life or gone absolutely crazy,” Rose smiled sadly, “an’ I woulda…I didn’t have a kid ta hold on for.”
“Me an’ Pete…?”
“Soulmates, or Bad Wolf says; both of them. Just like Pete here lost his Jackie, you lost your Pete. An’ it was some major meddling for you two ta meet,” Rose’s smile turned brighter, “between you an’ me? Think Bad Wolf had a hand in that somewhere.”
Jackie nodded faintly, before questioning, “What ‘bout Jenny? If you an’ he aren’t compatible then how…?”
“We’re not sure,” Rose shrugged, “after her physical, after we got her home, the Doctor took samples; she belongs ta both of us but we’re both still incompatible an’ sterile. Then he took more samples from her; she’s genetically sound, everythin’ matches up where it should. Time Lord DNA’s doin’ the heavy-liftin’, but she registers as partly human too. Bad Wolf’s not talkin’. Neither is Clockwork.”
Jackie gave a slightly hysterical laugh, “Rose, if you told me years ago that aliens were real I’d’ve thought you drunk! Now here we are, talkin’ about gods an’ immortality! While your alien husband—”
“He’s not my husband,” Rose murmured, an old argument she didn’t really believe anymore.
“Uh-huh—as I was saying, your alien husband plays with your little brother, the girl cloned off you both, an’ the girl you accidentally kidnapped.”
Rose smiled again, lovingly as she looked to her family out on the front lawn of Tyler Mansion.
They had come a long way from Hendriks’ basement.
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bunnis-monsters · 5 months ago
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NSFW
a/n: this was a commissioned werewolf piece, it’s 1.2k words long!
Everyone warned you that being out late at night was dangerous, but you never listened… and that would end up costing you in the end.
You had trouble sleeping, and in your earlier years, you despised how long and lonely each night could be… but now that you lived on your own, that changed.
The night was special to you. It was a time where everyone else was asleep and you could really let loose. Some nights you’d listen to music until morning, or maybe binge a show you had been putting off for months.
Though, others you left the safety of your little home and wandered into the woods.
It was well past your usual bedtime when you decided to get some fresh air. You felt cooped up in your room, and even after pacing and trying to find something to do in your house, nothing caught your interest.
You already tried masturbating to help you sleep, but it didn’t work. Now your pussy was wet and aching, and you didn’t even get to cum. There was only one other way to get yourself to rest…
The forest was calling to you, luring you out with the promise of adventure and crisp air that could clear your mind and lull you to sleep.
Usually you wouldn’t mind being up all night, but tomorrow you had to be up early for work. Most days you went in after lunch at the earliest, but one of your coworkers was sick with the flu and asked you to cover his shift.
Although you wanted to decline and sleep in, he had saved your ass a few times already and you owed him.
So, you put on your sneakers and a coat before grabbing a flashlight and leaving the safety of your home.
Everything about the forest felt comfortable and familiar. The crunch of leaves under your feet, the soft sounds of creatures scurrying from tree to tree, and even the wind made your tension ease.
For a while, you felt at peace…
Then, you tended up. Something was watching you from afar, and you could feel someone’s stare burning into the back of your head.
When you turned to see who was there, you didn’t spot anyone. You waved your arm, your flashlight’s beam moving over rocks and trees… before something glinted in a bush about 20 feet away.
It was an animal’s eyes, and whatever it was, you could tell it was huge.
For a moment you gazed on in horror, your eyes wide and hand trembling. The creature met your gaze, and that’s when it stepped forward.
You didn’t even notice you dropped your flashlight until after you were sprinting through the dark forest, tripping over a branch and scrambling to get back up. Thorns scraped your knees and arms, making you cry out in fear.
You could hear it behind you, panting and letting out a low growl. You caught sight of its yellow eyes and sharp fangs.
It looked to be some kind of wolf standing on its hind legs, but you didn’t stop to examine it thoroughly, you were running for your life.
But you weren’t fast enough.
The creature could see in the dark, and you couldn’t. Every time you tripped or stumbled you were slowed down, and eventually it was on top of you.
You cried out as you felt its large claws circle around your arms, pinning you against the ground. It hovered over you, panting from either excitement or fatigue, you couldn’t tell which.
Now that it had you in its grasp, you were able to get a good look at its appearance.
The creature was nearly twice your size, his gray fur bristled and wolf ears twitching as drool dripped from its sharp toothed maw.
All you could do was tremble and cry. This was the end, you hadn’t listened to your loved ones’ advice and now you were looking death in the face.
Hopefully it would be over quickly…
You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your face away from it… but instead of it attacking, you felt something… hard and wet rubbing against your thigh.
For a few seconds you kept your eyes closed, but they shot open when you felt one of its large, paw-like hands roughly grope your clothed cunt as its tail thumped behind it.
It was sniffing you, licking at your neck where your scent was most prominent. His fluffy wolf ears were flicking as he kept pawing at your pussy, as if trying to arouse you so he could smell more of that delicious aroma.
His teeth weren’t used to tear your flesh and eat you alive… instead he bit your shirt and tore it off, his tongue lapping at your bare breasts.
This thing didn’t want to eat you… he wanted to mate! It must have smelled the slick still on your panties and cunt from earlier!
If you played along, maybe you’d get home safely after all!
You could tell the poor thing was struggling by the way he let out pathetic whines as his cock bobbed needily. To help it out, you guided his hands to your breasts.
“Play with these, okay?”
His ears perked up and his tail picked up speed as he groped and kneaded your tits, his yellow eyes following the way they bounced and squished together. While he did that, you pulled down your pants and panties.
Honestly, you were aroused, embarrassingly so. He could smell it, immediately going to bury his face into your cunt the second he caught your scent.
“Th-that’s it-“ you blubbered out. He was inexperienced and rough, but his tongue was so big that it rubbed against your clit every time anyway. It was clear that he was desperate to mate, but couldn’t stop himself from tasting you first.
Before you could cum, he pulled back, his fat cock shoving itself unceremoniously inside of you. Fortunately you were just wet enough so it didn’t break you, but the stretch was painful and uncomfortable.
His hips slapped against yours as he mounted you, his hands gripping your soft flesh so tightly you could hardly bear it. The feeling of his nails digging into your hips hurt… but also added to the pleasure.
He was hitting your gspot, making your pussy clench around him as you had your first orgasm of the night.
The thrusts were going at an animalistic pace, and when your knees gave out he lifted you up and bounced you on his cock.
You felt your belly bulge, he was absolutely huge and was bottoming out inside of you. Suddenly his cock began to expand, and you realized too late that he was knotting you.
Your womb was stuffed full of his cum, and he howled at the full moon as his thick ropes of cum spurted into you, painting your walls white.
The werewolf let out a sigh, his knot keeping you connected to him as he calmed down. He was so relaxed and happy after his orgasm, licking your head affectionately and curling up around you.
It looked like you weren’t going to be able to cover for your coworker tomorrow… not when the werewolf was following you home for round two.
“Don’t wolves mate for life..?” you questioned yourself aloud, looking back at the werewolf as he followed behind you like a loyal puppy.
You’d have to find that out later… all you wanted to do was sleep after that experience.
————————
NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi
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laurfilijames · 1 year ago
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Wish You Were Here
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Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x reader
Words: 1.2k
Warnings: Angst. Mentions of death and brief descriptions of war. Intimate flashbacks.
Summary: Sleep deprivation begins to take its toll on Will, leaving him distressed and emotional as he thinks about being back home with you.
A/N: This is sad and it hurt my heart to write but I needed to do it so I can go back to writing fluffy filth!
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The numbers usually calmed him, gave him something sturdy and finite to focus on, but tonight they taunted him.
Each second that turned into a minute was a cruel reminder of all the ones he had spent awake, and no matter how exhausted he was and how physically ill he felt from the sleep he was being starved of, his mind and body refused it.
It had been days without more than a few minutes of rest at a time, only accumulating to a small number of hours that wasn’t enough to sustain anybody, and another wave of nausea set in as the effects of it all started to become too much.
It was moments like this that he missed you even more. The hurt in his heart turned physical, a relentless ache for you that the pains in his body couldn’t compare to.
Will sighed heavily, trying everything he could to cope with the insanity he felt over it, but it was growing to be unbearable, his limits tested like the few times they had before. He wondered as he took another deep inhale - his empty stomach filling with air - if he was waking anyone up in his distress, constantly shifting where he sat on the cold ground to try to feel even an ounce of comfort, his breathing louder than the wind howling around them, but it was stupid to think anyone else was able to slip into the solace of sleep at this point. No one was snoring and everyone was still, lacking the relaxed twitches that came when rest took control of your body, and he thought how the only members of their company who were resting peacefully were the ones going home to their families accompanied by a folded flag.
Home.
He blew out another shaky breath, closing his burning eyes so he was able to picture it in his tormented mind.
Your alarm would be about to go off, the early dawn still covering your bedroom in darkness right before the sun appeared to kiss your skin with its orange glow instead of his lips, your side of the bed cold as your body favoured his spot to be the one that was kept warm. You would no doubt have one of his t-shirts on and your head would be on his pillow, gripping it tightly as if it was him, trying to capture a bit of him that was left behind from the last time he was there with you.
Will found a little relief in these thoughts, knowing you were safe and out of harm's way, although he wasn’t naive enough to think you weren’t spending each moment worried and anxious for his safety.
Another inhale, slower this time, eyes still screwed shut as if the tighter he closed them the further he would be from this brutal reality.
He can hear the hum of the fan that sits on your dresser and is aimed at your bed, the sound ingrained in his mind from keeping both of you cool in the humidity night after night, and he can almost smell the scent of your heated skin, the familiarity of it making his mouth water, the desperation he feels to be able to hold you making him want to smile and scream all at once.
Fuck, he wished you were here.
Will flashed open his eyes. No. He couldn’t dream of placing you in this hell and exposing you to all the evil he had witnessed.
He shifted his legs, closing his eyes again as tears sprung up in them, the wet boots on his feet feeling more intolerable than usual.
Another inhale, then exhale.
He sighed again, imagining he’s back in your room, crawling into fresh sheets after showering, tangling his naked limbs with yours, your fingertips dancing up and down along his arm and back and softly over his face until his breathing continues to happen without him thinking about it and his mind is temporarily void of all he holds onto.
In the distance, the boom of an air raid sounds, rumbling and shaking the ground with a trembling force, bringing him out of his dream.
His muscles felt incredibly heavy, beyond tired and depleted of any strength, and he replaced the reasons why they were with how wonderful his body always felt after pouring every bit of energy he had into loving you, the satisfaction in expending all of his power into your pleasure comparable to nothing else.
A stray tear rolled down his cheek as his breathing grew quicker, thinking how he would do just about anything to be with you right now, even for the briefest of moments. Everything was more tolerable when he was with you, no demons too big to face, the strength you had admirable and extended over to him by simply being in your proximity. Sleep was something that never came easy to him, but at least when he was with you he was engulfed in a comforting embrace that gave him some rest and repose.
He brushed the wet away with his thumb, his heart clenching in his chest while his throat restricted, knowing if you were here you would kiss each tear away and sit quietly with him until his mind gave him some reprieve.
Will sunk his chin down into the collar of his jacket, rubbing his mouth back and forth on the material, the smell of sweat, rain and stale blood that he didn’t know was his or not filling his nostrils with a pungency he struggled to get used to.
A huff that bordered on being a laugh came from him, thinking how ironic it was that the night before he deployed he hadn’t slept either, choosing instead to spend every second he had making love to you over and over while the time was available to him, each time never enough, and he thought how he would sacrifice sleep for the rest of his life if it meant he could share nights like that with you again.
He licked his lips, trying to get some moisture onto them and rid them of the stinging, chapped feeling and then pressed them together, recalling how it felt to have them hydrated and wet from yours, imagining the sensation of your skin under them as he peppered countless kisses on your body, something he could only describe as being the closest he could ever get to heaven while he sat in the threshold of hell.
Will had vowed when he left that morning that he would never leave you again after this mission, and he would stay true to that promise, deeming it completely impossible to carry on like this while knowing everything he needed to live and survive was half the world away.
Until then, he would tick off every minute, hour and day, counting them down until he was holding you in his wearied arms again, and hoped he could at least pass some of them with sleep, the gravity of needing to be alert and focused in order to make it back to you sitting heavily on his shoulders.
He untucked his arms from across his chest, tugging up the sleeve on his left one to check his watch, feeling a little more hopeful that he was one hour closer to that goal.
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bloogers-boogers · 1 year ago
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Exorcist Lucifer Au
Lucifer doesn't get banished from heaven. But does in Eden.
Adam is banished from Eden but still ascended to heaven.
Both Lucifer and Adam got their heart broken by Lilith who firstly rejected Adam to be her husband and seduced Lucifer to fall in love with her, abandoning Adam and getting Lucifer banished from the garden, eventually she leaves him for Eve who Lucifer caught together making love before trying to offer the apple to Eve. Lucifer in a fit of jealousy and betrayal tricked Adam to eat the apple instead to get even with Eve for stealing his first love. But Adam was pardon for being tricked by a angel (being someone Adam had no choice but to trust, a 'superior'), Lilith and Eve got tossed to hell for disobeying and rejecting their roles and obligations. Lucifer got pardon but was punished with a curse to never experience true love, having no one be able to fall in love with him to prevent further incidents like this to happen again; he was allowed to fall in love but would live knowing it would never be reciprocated which was his punishment.
The exception was Adam who they had not yet know why he is ineffective with the curse, they found no need to worry as they assume the first man would never develop romantic feeling for Lucifer. With time though Lucifer does develop an interest in Adam, not romantically at first, it was more of the need to protect the one thing that could love him freely. Heaven took notice of that.
This gave heaven power over Lucifer: God's perfect and favored angel.
Lucifer did everything to make sure Adam ascended to Heaven, preventing him from sinning too much on earth and giving discreet guidance in form of bird messages to guide Adam to the right path. It was hard work but Lucifer's efforts weren't in vain.
Adam ascended and Lucifer was the first to greet him.
Somehow Lucifer manage to befriend Adam even after everything that happened in Eden. They hangout and talked a lot only when Lucifer wasn't busy with all the amount of duties he had, which was a lot. Normally every a hundred years. He'd do anything to keep in touch with the first man at least through messages, letters or calls and every second with him was worth the wait, Adam genuine love for him gave him hope that someday he will be worthy to get his curse broken and be able to experience what love truly is.
Things take a huge turn though when Sera and the archangels were now forced to take notice of the growing percentage of sinners in hell. They feared the possibility of hell creating a army and become a threat to heaven.
In an act of desperation a seraphim suggested exterminations, Lucifer, who was also in the meeting rejected the idea immediately knowingly Adam would never approve of such thing and would most likely be upset if angels started killing human souls. But he was shut down by all of those who started agreeing it was the best solution for their growing issue. Lucifer sat their speechless and shocked that they would have to resort to this.
He threatened them he would go speak to God if they refused to consider other possible and more peaceful solutions, this of course caused worries to everyone in the room, but they knew God wouldn't believe Lucifer for everything after the Eden incident. So Sera and the archangels pulled a card making Lucifer sit down and take it. They used Adam's safety as a threat to keep Lucifer to back down and simply obey. Which worked.
Out of all angels Lucifer ended up being put in charge of the exorcists. The only two rules they had was that no one was allowed to tell Adam or the winners about the exterminations.
The more work Lucifer was given the more time apart he was from Adam. But every time they did reunite it was magnificent and worthwhile. With each extermination Lucifer became detached from heaven and it's winners, the only thing that kept him away from falling was Adam. Lucifer didn't like sinners but with each time he visited hell during exterminations he became fascinated with the environment and places it had, he liked the hellborns but from a distance. It was all entertainment in his eyes and he loves a good show.
He also was not able to realized that he was repressing deep feelings for the first man. The feeling of guilt, fear, shame and unworthiness of Adam stopped him from ever opening to that possibility. However Adam was very opened in how much he loved Lucifer never verbally affirming it, maybe even clueless about it but with his actions spoke volumes. They both love each other a lot.
But Lucifer knew Adam would be disappointed and heartbroken if the truth reveals about what he did every once a year. He was also pushed into doing a lot of the ugly and dirty shit heaven refuses to do now that the council had him on a leash so he couldn't fight back. Lucifer cannot count how many souls he has taken out, he only knew he was completely bathed in blood, stained forever. And he would still take out if that meant protecting Adam but also keeping his dirty secret from coming out to light.
The years keep going and Lucifer starts giving zero f*cks about killing; murder became fun and a stress reliever, his anger was lashed on the not so 'innocent'. So he kept refusing to feel guilt over it. No one cared of what he felt, no one loved him except one, no one values his work so why care back?
At that point all the angels feared Lucifer's wrath. No longer the cheerful dreamful angel he once was (he was broken, he was different, he no longer belonged), they now knew him as someone very dangerous and cold blooded. The only times you could genuinely see him being his angel self is with Adam. And that was becoming a rarity to see, them together was becoming impossible to happen when Lucifer was overwhelmed with work.
It worsen when Lucifer was stuck having to deal with the knew issue in hand and it was Lilith and Eve's spawn: Charlie First. And the beginning of a new chapter.
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hannahbarberra162 · 9 months ago
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A Negative Outcome, part 2
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on Ao3
Thank you to all the Nonnies and @alexa-fika and @luarsunny for your amazing ideas. Now it's a coherent story with a love interest, because I can't stop myself. Based on like 2 people asking me to continue the series haha.
Note: Marco isn’t as dark in this one, he’s more conflicted about your treatment. There's less whump but canon typical violence. I kept the same picture because I like it.
~
For as much as your life completely changed overnight, it also became very predictable. You woke up in the morning, locked in your room. You waited until Marco came and unlocked the door and herded you down to the mess hall for breakfast. You sat at a table full of people you didn’t care to know and ate your food. Marco brought you to the infirmary where you sat with a needle in your arm for two hours. You ate a snack. Marco healed you. Your blood was taken. You ate a lunch Thatch brought you. Marco healed you. Your blood was taken. You ate a snack. Marco healed you. Marco let you leave. You went to the deck to spend the remainder of the day outside. You ate dinner. Marco brought you back to your room, locking you in for the night. The cycle repeated.
You had some small variations during your interminable days in the infirmary. You read various books in different genres while sitting in your phlebotomy chair. The nurses would come and chat with you sometimes but they were often too busy to stay more than a few minutes. Sometimes you’d have a visitor or two, sometimes Deuce would write in the phlebotomy room while you read or he’d read to you. Sometimes Thatch would sneak you in something tasty, sometimes the weather would be bad and you didn’t want to go to the deck and you’d go to the ship’s library instead. Even with the minute changes, it was a predictable, boring, miserable time. 
At first, it wasn't so bad. You’d never been on a pirate ship, certainly never with an Emperor and his crew. Everyone was pleasant to you, trying to make you feel like you had a place in the crew. You knew your place was a kidnapped blood bag, but it was still nice they made the effort. You were still scared of Marco, so you did whatever he told you to. You were a perfect meek little patient, sitting quietly and waiting to be told what to do. You foolishly thought that it might be fun to travel the world with an Emperor, being able to see the sights of the Grand Line. But it wasn’t like that at all. 
Even though you were compliant, Marco was tightening the leash on you constantly. You weren’t allowed to go into the crow’s nests after you almost fell climbing the ladder once. You weren’t allowed to make desserts with Thatch anymore in case they raised your blood sugar too high. You weren’t allowed to go swimming off the side of the boat, even when Namur was near you, in case there were predatory fish. You weren’t allowed to drink after you once had three beers at a party on board. You knew the boat stopped at islands for restocking, you could feel when the ship wasn’t sailing the waters of the Grand Line. You begged Marco to let you off the boat, but he never allowed it. He said he was worried about your safety in case there was trouble or fighting, but you knew he was worried you’d try to escape. Everything fun was getting prohibited, your life was getting smaller and smaller. 
Not only that, but you couldn’t bear being in that room for a minute longer than you had to. You were still squeamish, despite being subjected to medical treatments daily, and hated the sight of your blood being removed from your body. Just approaching the room made your heart rate spike and your breath came in short pants. You always flinched back from Marco’s hand reaching for you once you were in the phlebotomy room, but were only met by his firm grasp on your arm and the chair at your back. Marco had tried reassuring you and praising you for your good behavior, but it didn’t help. You wanted to rip the needle out of your skin every time you saw it, no matter how many times it had been. You tried to have Marco move the machinery to another space, just to give you something different to look at. But he said that the phlebotomy room was the only space that could accommodate the machinery, so you had to stay there. His solution was to put a potted plant on a small table in the corner. You wanted to kick it over every time you saw it. 
As you spent more time around Marco, you saw that he wasn’t as cruel as you thought in the beginning. If anything, he seemed conflicted about your presence on the ship. You almost asked him about it but you didn’t think it would be a “productive conversation.” Marco used that phrase whenever he shut down what you wanted to talk about - your captivity, when it would end, your lack of freedoms, if you'd see your family again.
“Maybe you could find someone who wants to be on the ship?” you asked as a non sequitur a few days into your kidnapping. You sincerely meant it, surely there were people who would love to join the infamous Whitebeard Pirates. Marco hummed but didn’t answer.
“I’m sure you could hold, like, auditions or -” 
“This isn’t a productive conversation yoi. Let’s move on,” Marco said dismissively. You clamped your mouth shut, hurt bubbling up inside. Any conversation you wanted to have went that way, with the Commander shutting you down quickly. Shortly after that you’d received your first “gift” from Marco. He often tried to do small gestures for you to make your stay better, especially after he made you upset. You felt he was trying to assuage his own guilt more than anything else. He never said anything, just put things in your room that he thought you would like. Books mostly, but sometimes nicer clothes or toiletries, shoes, a length of rope, a mirror. All the items were nice, but you would rather leave it all behind and go back home.
You understood Marco was conflicted but the amount of resentment you had for him trumped any of your other feelings towards him. He was the one who planned and executed your kidnapping, he was responsible for your misery. He was the one who poked you every day and made sure you sat in that goddamn chair. He was the one who healed you unnaturally fast, making you able to give more and more blood. It was his rules that were making your life monotonous and boring. Ultimately, you didn’t care if he was conflicted, you weren’t. You wanted off the ship, permanently.
Not only that but Marco monitored everything you did and consumed to an incredible degree. He had you on a special (bland) diet promoting nutritional balance, he made sure you only drank water and 2 cups of tea a day, he monitored how many hours you slept and the quality of your sleep. He made sure you walked for at least 30 minutes a day and he monitored your vitals every 12 hours. He even groomed you now, cutting your nails so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt yourself. You didn’t know if it was a bird thing or a Marco thing, but you hated it. He was up your ass every minute of every day. You. Were. Sick. Of. It. 
You begged Marco for days off, for a single day where you didn’t have to have your blood slowly extracted, only to be healed and repeat the process over and over. You implored him to leave you alone in your bed, to give you a break, to let you be, but nothing worked. You screamed, cried, and sobbed, but nothing moved the Phoenix. Every day without fail, Marco dragged you off to the infirmary, sat you down in the chair and took your blood. On days you were particularly defiant, he threatened to strap you down. He only had to follow through once. He looked upset after he’d done it, but you weren’t in the mood for dissecting what Marco was feeling. After that, you were more compliant as you realized the lengths Marco would go for his Captain. You hated needles, you hated the infirmary, you hated the ship, you hated Marco, you hated Whitebeard, you hated everything and everyone you came into contact with. 
Well...you actually didn’t hate Whitebeard. You tried really, really hard to hate him, but you just couldn’t. You’d met him a day or so after Marco had brought you on board. Whitebeard had wanted to meet and thank the person responsible for saving his health. You hadn’t wanted to meet him, but Marco marched you up to the Captain between one of your many blood donation sessions. 
“I apologize, child,” Whitebeard began. Of all the things you thought he would say, that was not one of them. “I am not sorry you are here, I am glad for it. You are saving my life and countless other lives, those who depend on my strength as an Emperor. But I do apologize that you were uprooted. I hope you can find some fulfillment here, even if it was not what you envisioned for yourself.” You stared at the old man, who was receiving your platelets via IV at that very moment. 
“It’s…ok,” you replied, after you realized Whitebeard was waiting for a response from you. What were you going to say? “Please return me home?” “Statistically, 60 people on your crew also have A- blood, can’t you use theirs?” “I don’t care about the islands and people under your protection?” It wasn’t ok, but what was there to say to the strongest man in the entire world? Whitebeard looked down at you from his high vantage point and gave you a kind smile. 
“It will all work out, child.” Marco shuffled you back to the infirmary before you could say anything else. Of course it would work out, you thought, for you. But nearly every day, when you came up to the top deck, Whitebeard would beckon you and have you come over to talk to him. He always thanked you for your "contributions" and asked how you were feeling. At first, the conversations were stilted and awkward, but after a while, you enjoyed your brief exchanges with the aged Captain. You could tell he was doing better, he didn’t look as tired as when you first arrived on the ship. He was friendly and kind in his own way, telling you stories of his travels and journeys, letting you sit on his shoulder if you were tired, giving you sips of his good alcohol when he could sneak some. Marco also wouldn’t bother you if you were with Whitebeard, which made you seek the Captain’s company all the more.
“Leave her, my son,” the Captain boomed to an annoyed Marco. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him from Whitebeard’s shoulder.
“But, Pops, it’s time for-” Marco was cut off, something you hadn’t seen anyone dare to do before.
“In due time, Marco. For now, she is resting.” You could have kissed Whitebeard for the reprieve from sitting in that room. If you looked at the gray walls and dull green chair for any longer you’d go crazy. The longer you were on the ship, the better Whitebeard was doing, even you could tell that. He had more energy and vigor, he needed oxygen less frequently. You were happy for the Yonko, but the better Whitebeard was doing, the more Marco managed your life. Marco was obsessed with keeping you healthy to ensure Whitebeard continued to do well.
The fourth division Commander Thatch had also made a huge effort to get to know you and connect with you. You didn’t really know why he bothered, it wasn’t like you’d joined the crew or anything. If you had your way, you would escape and never see any of them again. You rebuffed Thatch’s initial attempts at friendliness, but the chef was not easily deterred. You were suspicious, thinking that he drugged your food or that he was trying to find your vulnerabilities to use against you. You even made him take a bite of food from a random spot on your plate before you ate anything he brought. He took it in stride, eating whatever you asked. But it turned out, he was just kind and friendly. Eventually, you did start chatting with him, it wasn’t like there was much else for you to do while you sat with your arm out. 
He tried to find out your favorite food, your favorite drinks, your favorite colors, anything that he could do to brighten your day. He would personally bring you lunch and stay with you for as long as his schedule allowed, chatting and trying to get you to smile. He told you funny stories from his youth, sea legends, anything that you showed a modicum of interest in. He brought you flowers from whatever island he stopped at, leaving the phlebotomy room filled with vases. Thatch called you all kinds of ridiculous food related nicknames, trying to get a reaction out of you.You liked spending time with him even if you didn’t say so outright, and missed him when he was too busy to come up for lunch. One day you were chatting and eating the tomato soup he’d made for you when a question crossed your mind. Thatch was walking around the room, wiping down the counters and muttering about dust.
“Thatch, do you think we would have been friends if we met another way?” The chef stopped his movements and turned to you.
“Why do you ask Sugar?” he flipped the rag over his shoulder.
You shrugged. You’d been thinking about the same in relation to Marco lately. You thought that if you and Marco had met under different circumstances, you might have enjoyed spending time with him. He was smart and funny in a sarcastic way, which you appreciated. But under the current circumstances you’d never want to be friends, not as long as he kept you under lock and key. Thatch crossed the room over to you, tilting his head to look at you. 
“I think so,” he replied, putting his hand on your shoulder. “I think we could be more than - maybe close friends,” he finished, a light blush across his cheeks. It sounded like he was saying two different thoughts, but you didn’t ask anything further. You stirred your soup, the red of the tomatoes reminded you too much of blood and you couldn’t eat any more. 
“I think so, too.” You said, smiling and handing him the bowl. Your fingers touched as he reached to take it and now you were the one with a flushed face.
Even with your friendship with Thatch, as the weeks went by you receded into yourself more and more. You were the most depressed you’d ever been, and it was only getting worse. Marco told you that there was no physical reason for your lethargy, that when he healed you, you were returned to picture perfect health. But after six hours of having your blood drawn, you were lethargic and withdrawn. You started sitting in one spot on the deck, watching the waves and birds, knees hugged to your chest. If the weather was bad, you sat in an old lounge chair in the library, feet curled under you.The crew tended to leave you alone, they were busy and had their own friends and siblings to talk to. Besides, you were usually angry and snippy, you’d bitten off the head of more than one crew member who talked to you after your six hours in the infirmary. You didn’t want to do anything or see anyone.
Weeks passed and your life dwindled down to almost nothing. You didn’t see the point in doing anything beyond what Marco forced you to do. Thatch still came and tried to talk to you, but you zoned out a lot while he was talking. He kept trying to give you new foods to try, to see what you liked, but everything tasted the same. You had bags under your eyes and you were losing weight, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Everything made you tired, you spent most of your time dozing, both in and out of the chair. You didn’t stay on the deck anymore, you walked your required 30 minutes and went back down to your room, waiting for whatever you were told to do next. You’d even stopped reading, just spending your time in the chair looking out the window, thinking about nothing. 
You knew people were concerned about you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that either. They probably thought you were being overly dramatic and whiny, or just wanted you to accept your fate. Even though you’d given him no cause, Marco had taken away all sharp objects from the phlebotomy room in the infirmary as a precaution. You’d even stopped getting knives with your silverware, which was more annoying than anything else. One day while you laid in your bed, you overheard Marco and Thatch talking as they walked down the hallway together. Thatch was probably on his way to bring you something else to try and get you to eat. He said you were losing too much weight too quickly, or something like that, you didn't listen to what he said anymore. Their muffled voices were getting louder as they approached your door.
“ - really depressed, Marco,” you heard Thatch say.
“I know, I know. I see it too,” Marco replied, sighing. If you could see him, you thought he would be rubbing the back of his neck. You assumed they were talking about you.
“We need to do something -”
“I know, I know,” Marco repeated.
“Ok, so you know, but what are you going to do about it?” Thatch said harshly. They were right outside the door. You didn’t even pick your head off the pillow. Let them talk, what did you care?
“I don’t know yoi. I can’t let her go, you’ve seen Pops. He’s so much better than before, he doesn’t even use oxygen anymore. And he didn’t get that West Blue fever that ripped through the crew -”
“Yeah, I know she has to stay, but we have to think of something , she’s gonna -” You stopped listening, dozing off instead. Nothing they could offer you was something you wanted. All you wanted was to go home, and that was decidedly off the menu.
~
One day, after your required afternoon walk, you returned to your room, ready to face plant on your bed and nap until dinner time. You opened the door and came into the room, taking off your boots and shutting the door behind you. As you walked towards your bed, you had the sensation you weren’t alone. Turning around, you saw a man with a large black beard grinning at you as he lurked in the shadows. You’d talked with Teach a few times but not many, he creeped you out. He took a step towards you and you took an instinctive step back. You eyed the door, wondering if you could make it before he caught you. 
“You won’t make it,” Teach said, almost cheerfully. “And you’re not going to make it any farther than today either.” 
“W-what do you mean?” you asked, scared. The man moved towards you, the length of rope Marco had given you in his hands.
“I’m going to help you. Put an end to all your suffering, like you want.” He threw one of the ends of the rope over the scaffolding of the ceiling. The other end hung down, you saw he’d made a noose. You realized the length of rope wasn’t from Marco, Teach had put it in your room all those weeks ago. You wondered how long he’d been planning this - this wasn’t some fly-by-night plan, this was premeditated.
“All you need to do now is come here, look, I’ll even do the work for you if you want,” Teach spread his hands out, like he was doing you a favor. “C’mere, I’ll hang you myself,” Teach said with another smile. You felt the blood drain out of your face, he was serious and not backing down. You kept moving backwards but your back hit the wall, stopping your progress. 
“I d-don’t want to -” you stammered, before Teach interrupted you.
“Of course you do, we’ve all seen you moping around the ship. Depressed little thing. Wouldn’t it be better to end it now, on your own terms? Show Marco who’s really in control?” He kept getting closer to you, making your chances of escape lower and lower with each footstep. 
“N-no, wait, please, I- I don’t -” you were trying to tell him that you didn’t want to die , you were just having a hard time lately. 
“ZEHAHAHA, well I do!” Teach grabbed for you and you tried to dodge- but he was faster than you anticipated and easily captured you. He slammed you against the wall with one hand and put one of his large hands around your neck, squeezing harder and harder. He picked you up by your neck, still choking you. You felt the amount of air you could breathe diminish until there wasn’t anything left. 
“It’s more fun to do it this way, and I need to make sure you’re actually gone. Afterwards I’ll string you up, no one will be any the wiser. You’ll be the poor little lady who took her own life to avoid being on the ship. Marco will be gutted, Thatch will cry, and Whitebeard - well, things will go back to the way they were before.” It was difficult to listen to Teach describe your death as he crushed your windpipe, choking the life out of you. You saw spots forming in the corners of your vision, you tried clawing at Teach’s hand but he didn’t even bother to swat your hands away. Your heels were kicking against the wall, trying to find purchase, to no avail. You looked up, the last thing you were going to see was Teach’s face excitedly watching your eyes as he murdered you. You thought about your family and friends, and wished things had ended differently for you. You were on the edge of consciousness, about to fade from life itself.
When a blaze of blue entered your field of vision, causing Teach to grunt and drop you. You heaved in a breath, trying to get as much air in as you could. You gripped your own throat, rubbing it in the hopes of getting air in. You were having some success but you were too panicked to breathe normally. You were on all fours, trying to get a breath in, to stop your overwhelming sensations of panic, to stay out of Marco’s way as he fought with Teach. Blood was spattering on your clothes and face but you barely noticed over the rush of your adrenaline. 
The sound of the fight must have alerted others because you heard voices filling the room, but you couldn’t focus over the rush of the blood in your veins and the breath you were still trying to catch. Someone picked you up like a child, with your head over his shoulder and rushed you out of the room, away from the many people trying to fit in. You looked up to see a worried Thatch, carrying you in the direction of the infirmary. You struggled in his arms, you couldn’t be in the infirmary right now. You just couldn’t.
“Whoa, Sweet Pea, what’s happening?” Thatch walked slower but still on the same trajectory. You weren’t able to free yourself from Thatch’s arms but used your remaining adrenaline to try.
“N-n-no inf  -” you were trying to talk but were barely able to get anything out. Everything was a wheeze as you struggled to talk. 
“You need to go to the medbay, you need help -” you started crying and flailing again, trying to get away from the needles and the blood and the chair and the room. Your crying was making your breathing ragged again. Thatch completely stopped walking for a moment.
“Shhhhhh, stop. Hey, it’s OK, shhhh, I’ll take you somewhere else.” Thatch was rubbing your back, trying to get you to stop crying. “We’ll go, uh, to my room for now.” You didn’t care where he took you, it just couldn’t be the infirmary. He kept walking but turned right at the end of the hall instead of left. You stopped wiggling, content to go anywhere but that damned room.
Thatch brought you up a floor and opened a cabin door, bringing you into his room. Normally you’d want to take in everything, but you were feeling drained. You still felt like you couldn’t breathe normally and you could feel your throat was swelling rapidly. He deposited you gently on the bed and sat next to you, putting a hand on your knee.
“I’m gonna look at you, make sure you’re able to breathe and swallow. Then I think I need to get Marc-”
“N-no. No Marco,” you rasped. Thatch frowned and patted your knee.
“I know you don’t always like him, but being strangled is a big deal. There’s a lot that can happen afterwards if you’re not checked out,” he told you. “Please, I need to make sure you’re OK.” You looked at Thatch and gave a small nod, lifting your face up and closing your eyes. You didn’t want to see him reaching for your throat.
“I’m gonna touch your throat now, just with my fingers,” Thatch said quietly. You felt tears at the corners of your eyes, but you tried not to cry. You tried to take a deep breath but it made you cough instead. “I’ll wait until you tell me its OK.” You coughed again, this time the tears did leak out. You gave another small nod but flinched as you felt Thatch’s thick fingers on your bruised throat. You were shaking but couldn’t stop it.
“Can you try to swallow? Please?” he asked you quietly while palpating your neck. You tried, but it was difficult to get your saliva down. “I’m gonna take my hands off, ok? Can you open your eyes? I wanna check a few things, I’m gonna touch your face. You’re being so brave, we’ll be done soon, OK?” You tried taking another breath and opened your eyes. Thatch looked closely at them and your cheeks, moving your head left and right. You had a headache, you hoped this was over with soon. He removed his hands
“Alright, I think you’re OK for now. I need to go-”
“No -” you started to try to talk, putting your hand on his. You belatedly realized it was spattered with blood, you weren’t sure whose. You didn’t want him to leave, and you didn’t want him to get Marco. It was inevitable that you’d have to see him eventually, but you didn’t want to see him now. Thatch looked at you with pity for the first time.
“No one’s gonna hurt you anymore. You’re safe,” Thatch said softly. You trembled even more. Weren’t you supposed to be safe already? Why had a member of their own crew tried to murder you? None of it made sense but you knew it was related to your blood somehow. Everything bad in your life always came back to the blood running through your veins.
“Do you want me to hold you?” Thatch asked, bringing you back from your thoughts. You didn’t answer, just crawled into his lap. You knew you were gross, covered in blood and drool and who knew what else. But Thatch didn’t mind, just held you as you whimpered in his arms until you fell asleep.
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gotham-daydreams · 1 year ago
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Hi! I love your gothan platonic batfam series, but every time I read it I can't help but wonder what Duke's reaction to all this would be. He's one of my fave batfam characters, do you have any plans to add him in later chapters?
Just curious, no pressure. Hopefully I didn't come off as pushy. (sorry if i did)
Have a good day! <3
Hello! And you didn't come off as pushy, no worries :]
I'll be honest and admit that I have thought of adding Duke to the series- but if I was going to do that in a more organic manner, and just generally in a way that makes sense- that would've been in Chapter 2 or 3. Though trust me I am still debating... and the only reason I'm hesitating is because I don't think I'd be able to capture his personality, or really just him as a person very well.
Granted, I do inherently view yandere versions of characters as OOC for... various reasons (some of which are obvious, especially when it comes to the Batfam and DC characters in general), but I do try to keep very close to the character (or my general understanding and interpretation of them for things like DC, who have multiple canons and such) and write them in a way that does still compliment or adhere to parts of their personality or overall mindset... if only generally. Like Bruce and his closeness to those around them yet the distance he so desperately tries to keep - not for himself, but rather those around him. His strive for justice and to do good to make up for a sin, a fault that isn't his to forgive or one he hardly had anything to do with and so on. How that makes him inherently protective if only at a distance and in silence. How he tries to keep himself away from others, if only to protect them, and yet finds himself surrounded anyway. Etcetera etcetera.
Case and point- I don't have a really good graps of Duke's general character and aren't confident enough to write him into the Not Series at the moment- and by the time I do, it may feel shoehorned in and just not as great as it could be (even if a line I wrote in Chapter 1 was meant to be him..). Though I am learning more about him! And if anyone would like to share what they know and their interpretations of his character they have and such while I still have asks open, I'd love to read and see them :]
In future series', oneshots, and just general things I plan to post and share on this blog, Duke will very much make an appearance and we'll reach 10 yanderes for the Batfam instead of just 9. (Some series' which will definitely be longer than the Not Series.)
On that note, I have thought of how Duke would feel (and some others earlier on have asked a bit as well), and from the little I know of him, this is how I think at the moment he would generally react/feel (though it may be inaccurate and such because of what I mentioned previously 😅):
I think he would start out as one of the many others that actually live in the manor or just so happened to be there at the time — and that being he feels guilt first (unlike the only person in that house who doesn't/didn't) and just... wouldn't know what to do. The time passed and everything the reader has done sort of leaves him stumped, and just stuck processing until everyone's rushing out and around to find you and before he knows it- he's following out with them to do the exact same thing.
I think he leaves before everyone else, and considering that he does daytime patrol, it isn't as odd to see him out and about anyway. Though the frantic-ness of his movements and actions are weird, and for once, more outwardly, Duke panics.
He feels bad, of course he does, and more similarly to Cass- he can only wish that he could do things with out. That he wants to be in the room when you got your awards or had been there through the hardships he knows you undoubtedly faced without even having to see the medkit like Bruce does in Chapter 2. So he goes out to look for you, but not so much for your safety and more so to just... apologize. To say every little thing he can in hopes to make things better, to lessen the damage.
And of course, just to see you.
More than anything Duke wants to make it up to you right away, but has half a mind to know he'll have to take things slow. He's still sensible to some degree, if not only partially of half-insane just like the rest of the fam (minus a certain blonde and red head who are only a sliver of the way there), he knows it'll take time, that you probably won't forgive him right away. But that's okay! He can live with that, he understands that, but he just needs to see you. Just once- if only to see who you are now and the person you've become. If only to say an apology that might fall too flat or feel too empty considering the little he knows about you.
Just once. No matter how awkward it is or how much he regrets it later. Just once.
Though, despite that he is divided on bringing you home. It would be nice, sure, but by the time that discussion comes up he isn't sure that's the best idea. Even less so with how those that do want you home seem to want to go about it, and just generally the kind of people they are. Impulsive. Strong. Threatening- they'll scare you and do more damage then help ease tensions, and he doesn't want that to happen. You don't deserve that- even if he barely knows you. Duke can feel it, you don't. Even then, they help people out, not hurt them, not like they did with you.
Duke wants to spend time with you, but he's willing to do that outside of the manor if it means making you more comfortable and warm up to him a little more. As long as he sees you he can't complain...
So when Dick messes up, he's upset. Like everyone else besides Cassandra he doesn't know what happened but knows that something absolutely went wrong. Dick usually wasn't so obvious about things like that either, but with how hurt and just... broken he looks, they could all tell. Duke could tell.
Granted, he's not upset enough to change his mind, and if anything it definitely makes him more adamant about not bringing you home yet, but he can’t find it in himself to be fully against the idea, even then.
The one thing he wants to do after that, if anything, is more determined to make things right.
If Dick of all people couldn't make it up to you, then hell, maybe Duke can.
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1d1195 · 2 years ago
Text
Traditional Extra IV
Read Traditional here
A little on the shorter side.
I love to make Harry whiny.
Warnings: angst, fluff, nothing particularly special about this one.
~2k words
"Baby, come on. You’re scaring me,” she said gently. He wanted to throw something. Everything was making him mad; he felt the ache all the way to his bones.
“Y’can’t fix this,” he muttered bitterly.
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It was quarter past one. Which meant that she was set to walk into Harry’s office with his cup of tea in her hand. Even though it had been more than a year since her hot beverage accident, she was extremely mindful of turning corners with something that could scald her in her hands. The idea that Harry might fire someone because she was accidentally injured was too much for her to bear. She had her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear. Her cold coffee was in the crook of her arm as she reached for his door.
But instead, all sound stopped at the noise behind it. People paused in their path to the breakroom, the conference room, or back to their offices. The sound of Harry screaming nearly echoed as she looked at the wooden door separating her and her very obvious, very angry boyfriend.
“God bless her,” someone murmured.
“Don’t think I could do it. No matter how cute he is,” she heard another voice whisper. She wondered if she knew they were loud enough for her to hear. Or maybe with the phone pressed to her ear, they didn’t think she was paying attention.
“I’m sorry, I will call you back in half an hour,” she said softly to the phone. There was a response, but she didn’t hear it as she hung up. Niall was back in their office. Probably already looking to solve whatever issue had Harry breaking the sound barrier. Or maybe he was lucky and in another meeting. Maybe this wouldn’t be his problem. But it was definitely going to be part of her problem.
Harry didn’t scare her for the sake of her well-being. She never worried about her safety or whether Harry would harm her in a fit of whatever was causing him distress. The only alarm Harry caused her was the worry that he was going to have an untimely heart attack at such a young age due to his distress. More so, she worried one of these days she wouldn’t be able to fix his problems.
Or that he wouldn’t want her to. One day Harry was going to yell at her. Not purposefully. Not because he was mad at her. But he was going to take his frustration out on her. It was a matter of when not if. Maybe today would be the day.
Turning the knob, she heard everyone behind her collectively hold their breath. They knew she would fix it... probably. She entered slowly, like it was a lion’s den, and she didn’t want to be seen just yet. She closed the door quietly, with a soft click.
Harry was leaning over his empty desk. His computer, his phone, the picture frame with a picture of them from her graduation, all of it was laying shattered and broken to pieces on the floor across the room. His breath was practically panting. She watched him for a few moments: his shoulders rising and falling quickly and dramatically.
Whatever happened obviously made him mad. When Harry was mad, she felt the creeping sense of worry that he would work himself up to a point he couldn’t come back down from and again, worried about his health.
“Harry, baby?” She asked softly after a moment.
“Get. Out.” He seethed. She felt like a knife had been twisted into her heart and she felt like she would cry. Harry never told her to leave or accidentally yelled at her without a pet name attached to it.
He was definitely going to ruin their day. He was going to take out his frustration on her. Today was sure to be the day. She stood silently by the door. Afraid to take another step or make another noise. He still hadn’t turned around. She could see he was still shaking from across the room. Her heart felt so heavy for his worry and discomfort of whatever was hurting him.
In an instant, his cell phone was pressed to his ear. “What?” He snapped. Harry listened for all of twenty seconds before his phone was added to the pile of debris. He took three strides behind his desk and threw his chair toward the rest of his office supplies as well. A hole appeared in the drywall.
That was too much for her. She had to intervene. She was worried he was going to hurt himself at any moment. Swiftly and silently, she made her way to the couch, setting the drinks on the side table before she hurried to Harry’s side before he tried to tip his desk over or something. “Harry,” she whispered softly. He flinched at her touch, yanking from her so violently it almost looked like he smacked her hands away. She blinked in surprise and tried again anyway. “Baby,” her voice was firmer. She pressed her hands on his forearms. He looked at her, still seething with rage. She could see sweat forming at his hairline. Darkening his chocolate curls. His face was flushed red, his arms were clammy to the touch even through his shirt.
“I told you t’get out,” he snapped at her; it was like he wasn’t seeing that it was her.
She nodded understandingly. “I know,” she whispered in agreement. “I know,” she tugged him toward the couch. Despite how angry he was, he let her lead him. Harry stood in front of the sofa still shaking and she paid no mind to it. She pressed him back, so his legs touched the furniture and he had no choice but to sit. She crouched in front of him.
He was intimidating. Even to her, she couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline running through her blood, her heart fluttering nervously that she was going to make matters worse and just upset him more.
But his typically gentle, green eyes turned nearly black—his pupils dilating to fit nearly the entirety of his irises with how angry he felt. His breath was a bit raspy. His muscles were practically rippling as his hands and arms shook. Even just sitting there.
“Baby, come on. You’re scaring me,” she said gently. He wanted to throw something. Everything was making him mad; he felt the ache all the way to his bones. “Put your head between your knees please.”
“Y’can’t fix this,” he muttered bitterly.
“Harry, please just let me try,” she whispered softly. “Just five minutes and then I’ll leave, and you can set the office on fire,” she promised. Harry grunted in response, and she guided his hands behind his head, his elbows rested on his thighs. She rubbed his back soothingly. “Deep breath,” she whispered. He placated her and took a deep breath, but it sounded shallow. “What happened?” She asked softly.
He shook his head. He could feel tears pricking his eyes.
“Harry, baby,” she murmured. “Talk to me, please. Should I get Niall?”
He took another breath. “I lost a client. A huge one. S’going to...” his breath was shaky as he exhaled. “Kitten, s’bad,” he mumbled.
She frowned. “Oh, love,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
He picked his head up and looked at her. “M’sorry I yelled at you,” he muttered. “I’m...”
She shook her head. “It’s okay, I know it’s not about me.”
“I shouldn’t yell at you. Ever. You only try t’help. Always,” he looked so dejected. “I...I have t’find a new client or I’ll have t’make cuts next quarter.”
“Okay, so we’ll find one,” she whispered.
He wanted to snap but it was his angel touching him so gently. Trying to comfort him as best she could. He couldn’t hear it. He shook his head. “S’not that simple, kitten,” her positivity was admirable, but he was so mad, so sad. This was a huge deal. A huge letdown.
She sat beside him and grabbed his hand. She twined their fingers together and she looked over at the pile he made of all his electronics and the chair. With a squeeze of his hand, she rested her head on his arm. “Whatever it is Harry, I’ll be right beside you,” she promised.
He turned toward her. “Kitten, I might...have t’fire you.”
She felt her heart flutter, but she nodded looking at their hands. “It’s just a job,” she whispered.
“Love...”
“Harry, I have you. A job... at your company.” she shrugged. “It’s just a bonus.”
“I might lose a lot of money.”
“I’m not with you for money,” she promised with a smirk.
He looked at her, his eyes were red around the corners. His face was withdrawn. He was handsome as ever; even as broken as he felt. “You would love me...if I was broke?”
“I would love you even if you didn’t have a porch swing.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “M’so in love with you. So...” he shook his head. “Hopeless for you,” he murmured. “Don’t deserve you,” he mumbled. “You’re too good,” he nosed at her temple. “I’m sorry, kitten.”
She shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize to me.” He looked at her. So sad. Poor thing. Her heart ached to make it better. The first thing she was going to do when she got back to her office was tell Niall as much as she could, and begin searching for a new client. Then probably order Harry new furniture. He stayed silent. His anger settled into sadness. He felt so dejected.
Sighing softly, she cupped his face. He looked so sad. “Do you know you told me you loved me when you were sick?”
He looked up at her curiously. “What?” He momentarily forgot about the turmoil he felt about his company.
“You were delirious,” she smiled. Harry thought she looked like an angel. He swore she had been sculpted by an artist. Even when he felt so terrible, she was just so pretty. It felt like he was healing. “You were falling asleep and just told me you loved me,” she shrugged.
“So y’knew all that time,” he murmured with a smirk toying at his lips. It was weird how he could make him feel better. Even at a time like this.
She nodded excitedly with an impish grin. “Yeah...” she smirked.
“And y’still thought I didn’t love you with m’whole heart after that? That I wouldn’t have...” He rolled his eyes as he trailed off.
She giggled and shrugged. “People can say crazy things when they’re sick.”
He looked at her. “I love you.”
“I’m aware,” she said cutely. If she had a free hand, she would have flipped her hair behind her shoulder. Harry laughed at her, shook his head so his nose bumped hers. “I love you,” she whispered.
“Say it again,” he murmured, his eyes getting this dreamy, far-off look. His chest felt warm. Part of him never wanted to leave this couch. He never wanted to move. The idea of dealing with what was in store for him seemed so bleak.
She was never bleak. She was perfect. She made everything better, even when he didn’t want her to. “I love you,” she repeated effortlessly. “So much. No matter what. No matter how much money you have or how many porch swings you buy me.”
He cupped her face and leaned so his lips just barely brushed hers. “Don’t know how I did this without you before,” he murmured.
“You’ll never have to do it again,” she promised.
Harry was dreading getting a new phone and a new computer, knowing how bad it was about to get. But somehow her ability to worm her way into his heart and his brain made him believe, even for a moment, that it would be okay.
Or maybe it was just the taste of her lips between his that made him believe.
--
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buckybarnesss · 2 years ago
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I don't if you already talked about it but I wanna know your thoughts about the love spell that Jennifer put on Derek. How did it dispell? It was the power or friendship and pack, with Scott and Stiles asking for help, real bond instead something that's it was believe to be love? Or it was Stiles? Just Stiles asking Derek for help, being completed honest and worry for his dad, and knowing that Derek would help? And he was crying, and Derek wouldn't let no one to make his bamby eyes little baby cry?
oooh no one has asked me this i don't think.
in my interpretation jennifer's entire plan hinged on isolating derek from everyone. she needed him disconnected from the tenuous support network derek had built by season 3. we see this in motel california. she convinces him not to let the pack know he's alive despite us knowing all through frayed that scott was deeply affected by derek's supposed death, cora and peter were worried and looking for him, and that isaac and boyd were near ready to boil over at ethan.
so what breaks her hold?
it's a combination of things and i think i've talked about it before but to me it feels like a direct call back to abomination. not only is the blocking of the scene similar but also it brings up stiles's big question to derek from that episode:
"would you just trust me this once?"
and also what scott says at the end of abomination before derek slams the door closed on his vulnerability.
"nobody trusts anyone! that's the problem! while we're here, arguing about who's on what side, there's something scarier, stronger, and faster than any of us, and it's killing people, and we still don't even know anything about it!"
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and here -- a full season later -- in the overlooked derek looks at the two of them and answers with trust.
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people really seem to forget how much scott, derek and stiles's relationship changed in season 3. that they worked through their season 1 and 2 bullshit.
plus, you know, derek has been manipulated and used in the past by kate argent and by peter. each time has resulted in pain, suffering and death. i think this leaves room for self-doubt inside derek that jennifer couldn't account for.
so that plus scott and stiles trusting him despite everything? they came to him and are asking for his help and trust? the very thing he wanted in the first two seasons and somehow he earned it.
jennifer's false love and trust ae nothing compared to that.
it's a two way street too. it's not just them wanting him to trust them but they are putting trust into him too. that he'll be on their side.
also derek knows scott and stiles do not fuck around with the safety of their parents. melissa and the sherriff are all they have. derek would do anything for these two kids he's tried very hard to protect for months and months to not go through the loss of a parent like he did.
but also like
she made stiles cry man. fuck jennifer.
it's why she poisoned cora though. i think she had an idea that she wouldn't be able to dupe derek forever so she created an insurance policy.
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lykaios2 · 2 years ago
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may i request reciving headpats from Donnie please ? A fic or headcanons any of them would be great
you know headpats are amazing and you can't convince me otherwise
I've said this before and I'll say this again: sorry for the wait
anyway hope you enjoy! ❤️
The Comfort in a Touch
rise donnie x reader
cw: panic attack
wc: 1280 words
It was a Friday night, the perfect time to kick back and relax after a long week. And your idea of kicking back was going over to the lair and hanging out with your favorite turtles. Somehow, you had convinced Donnie to stop working on his projects and hang out with you. Mikey and Raph were out shopping in the Hidden City for ingredients for a new dish Mikey wanted to try. Leo apparently had a date, but no one knows how that happened. That left you and Donnie alone at the lair.
Of course, that meant chaos. You and Donnie were like two peas in a pod. You fed off of each other's energy. No one could ever guess what you two would do next.
On this night, it was no different. No one knows exactly how it came to be, but you were on the floor, crawling around on all fours, and Donnie was watching you, laughing uncontrollably. Something about the way you moved was so unnatural, but to him, it was equally as hilarious. As he watched you, he thought to himself how closely you resembled a feral animal. And what do you do to animals? Pet them, of course, he thought.
"Aw, who's my adorable little feral animal? You are, yes you are."
You laughed at the comment, but when Donnie reached his hand down to pat your head, you froze. Donnie stopped as well, confused by what was happening.
"A-are you okay? Did I do something?"
You shook your head to tell him it wasn't his fault. Well, it was, but he didn't do anything wrong. When he gave you the headpats, it felt strangely comforting. It was almost like you felt small, but in a good way. Like you were safe and protected.
Donnie still didn't know what was going on, so he sat down next to you and asked again.
"Yeah, I'm okay..."
"Then what happened? Why did you stop?"
You didn't answer him, and instead curled up into a ball. You didn't want to tell him, it sounded weird and embarrassing to say. But it was so nice...
"y/n?"
"...I stopped because..."
"Because...?"
"...well, I...I liked it when you were...giving me headpats. But I didn't think it would feel so nice...so I just kinda froze up."
Donnie looked at you for a second. He didn't know what to do with that information, but he could tell that something about it made you not want to share it with him. You covered your face, scared that Donnie would make fun of you for liking being pet like a cat. But all he did next was put his hand back on your head.
"Like...this?"
You were confused at his action, but also, the feeling of safety and comfort were mixed in, too. In that moment, all you could do was nod your head and hoped he wouldn't make any comments about it.
"Okay...good to know, I guess."
"Wait...you don't think this is stupid or something?"
"Not really. I mean, I wouldn't exactly say physical touch is my main love language, but it's nice sometimes, and I understand the appeal."
A wave of relief washed over you as Donnie said that. You let out a small smile as you turned to look at him.
"Heh, thanks. That's comforting to know."
"No problem. Although, if you don't mind me asking, what about the headpats makes you enjoy it?"
You explained to him how it made you feel safe and comfortable. He listened, not speaking until you were finished.
"I see. I'll keep that in mind, then."
After everything, you admitted to Donnie that you didn't feel like doing any crazy activities anymore, so he suggested watching a movie. You agreed, and after picking out a movie, you and Donnie sat down in the living room with some snacks and watched the movie. Eventually, everyone came back, and shortly after you had to leave. You said your goodbyes, and headed home.
After that night, you and Donnie were able to move past the incident and hang out normally. You continued to go over to the lair every so often, and hung out with the turtles a lot. Neither you or Donnie said a word to his brothers about that night, and it just became something that happened.
Unbeknownst to you, however, Donnie kept true to his word. He held the information he learned that night deep in the recesses of his memory. He didn't think about it much, but he always kept that thought stored away. He never thought he would need it.
That was, until one night. Earlier that day, you had invited him over to your place to hangout. It had been a rough couple weeks at work, and some time with a turtle friend was just what you needed. When he arrived, he expected you to remember he was coming, so he let himself in. When he opened the door, the lights were off. He thought it was a bit strange but he figured you were somewhere else. But it was almost completely silent, which was even more confusing to him.
"Hello?" He called out. No response.
"y/n? I'm here!" Still nothing.
He set his things down and began to look around. The light was on in the kitchen, so he checked there first. There were some plates out, so you must have been there recently. He continued to look around the house, until he eventually heard something coming from your room. It sounded like...crying? He opened the door, and there you were. Crying in the corner of your room, curled up into a ball.
He rushed over to you, and kneeled next to you. He tried to get your attention, but nothing was working.
"Wait...shaking, quick breathing...and a fast heart rate...you're having a panic attack! Oh my..."
Donnie knew that all he could do in the moment was to be there to comfort you and help you. He remembered that panic attacks don't last very long, so all he had to do was sit here and wait. But what could he do to help?
"y/n...I'm sorry, but this is the only way I can think to help you."
He reached his hand out, and started to rub your head. For a second, nothing happened, but then you jerked away from him. He retracted his hand, scared he had made it worse. In reality, he had calmed you down slightly, enough for you to start coming out of the panic attack. After a minute, he started apologizing in a worried tone.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I really didn't. I was just trying to- huh?"
He paused. He didn't notice, but you had grabbed his hand. You didn't speak, but you slowly lifted his hand up and placed in back on your head. Donnie was a little confused, but you still said nothing.
"What...?"
You scooted closer to him. After a second, Donnie finally got the hint. He slowly started to rub your head again, and you scooted closer to him. Eventually, you were right next to him, leaning against him. Donnie spoke as he continued to rub your head.
"Hey. I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to help."
You nodded. You were still trying to calm down, so you couldn't speak. But the headpats were so comforting...it was that feeling of safety again. The feeling of protection. You were able to muster up a quiet "thank you" to Donnie, to which he hummed in response.
"We can just sit here for a while...if you'd like. I don't mind."
"Yes...I would like that."
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snailsgoingdowntown · 2 years ago
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Day 4 of writing for blade until he comes home.
Blade x fem! Reader
Minors/blank blogs dni
This mini 'series' doesn't have an official timeline, it's all over the place, aka tomorrow I might write their first meeting only to write their 1st year anniversary the next day. Just an example.
Warnings: implied violent thoughts, mention of murder/death, slight possessiveness if you squint, toxic-ish relationship cuz blade would not be able to keep a healthy one, implied past sex.
Could be read as yandere but not intended to be. So I'll tag it just in case.
In which you're scared but unable to walk away.
==
You can't help but walk on eggshells around him.
No name given to you, your brother basically shoving this 6'2 man to you, who looks so bored it could practically be his entire personality. Black hair that reaches below the waist, the tips red. His eyes are also a unique color, red with golden rings within. And he's your 'travel buddy', which is really a nice way to say bodyguard.
It's been two since then, no longer as naive as you once were, unable to ignore the shady business your brother partakes in. Unable to pretend that this man seated next to you on your own bed, is anything but a crazed criminal, his wanted posters being torn down as quickly as possible outside. But for your own safety, you still play the part of a naive young woman - barely any knowledge of the outside world yet a bit temperamental at times.
You're scared of being killed.
Hurt.
Tortured.
And so much worse and even so, you allowed him in, Blade looking around your room with some interest. Books scattered around instead of being placed in the bookshelf, stuffed animals decorating your bed's corners and the opposite side of your perfered sleeping spot. A computer desk that's way too cluttered with resumes and job sites, a few empty coffee cups from earlier that day -
You allowed this criminal into your room. The worst part was that he wasn't the only one - your brother counts, too. And Kafka as well. And maybe even you, just for being related to and associated with them.
Maybe you're even worse.
You allowed yourself to become involved both romantically and sexually with a wanted criminal, one who may go crazy at any moment. It's even worse when you bring up the fact he's Mara struck, if you heard right. The worst part is that you're considering alerting the authorities.
You only found out their names through the wanted posters and kept your mouth shut about it.
No wonder your brother was so paranoid about leaving you alone. He can't monitor your activities, your access to the internet, can't control where you go outside. But he couldn't exactly keep you locked up either, the guilt would kill him. But apparently the guilt wasn't enough, still forcing you to act like the perfect sister, never ask questions and play pretend.
He knows that you know.
You just hope that Blade doesn't.
"It's your first time being in my room, huh?"
And hopefully the last.
"Hm." Blade doesn't say much, arms crossed and doesn't say much. Or anything at all really, letting out a sigh after a few more minutes of silence.
You forgot why he's even here.
"Your brother is worried about you," he doesn't look at you and you don't look at him. Your attention is on the T.V, trying to tune out his voice, his smell, his very presence because if you don't, you might scream. Scream at him for keeping it a secret, for lying to you too, for making you fall for him when he's the incarceration of evil -
He hasn't exactly given you a proper reason to be afraid of him. But after reading his list of crimes, it's hard to see him in the same light, especially when there's video evidence, victim reports from those who managed to get away somehow. Just when you finally were starting to open up to him, getting to know him properly, you found out everything thanks to a single wanted poster shown on the screen for but a second before the channel was changed by a maid.
Everyone knew expect you.
"Is he now? Hard to believe considering he sent a man into my room instead of a woman." You don't mean to bite back, but it's either that or let the fear reveal itself in your voice. Your actions. So, you cut yourself off from him, reverting to your past self from a year ago when you first met him.
Masking your fear with annoyance. Convincing yourself he's annoying rather than scary. It barely worked and it's barely helping now.
"He knows I don't have any dubious intent concerning you. I don't see why you're so uncomfortable with this, considering we... 'shared' a hotel room once. Plus the door is open," he gestures to it with his head.
The memory of the hotel room brings warmth to your face. Whispered praises, soft touches, kisses that lasted longer than needed. You can feel him looking at you, now.
You still don't look at him. Your entire body is tense, and it's obvious be can tell. From the way he decides to look at you and take in your appearance, to how he raises a brow, not understanding just why you're like this.
You did a 180.
From sharing secret and gentle touches, hidden kisses in the hallways, lingering looks as you pass by each other. Now you can barely look at him, and you're aware he's confused and maybe even a bit hurt - if he wasn't using you. It was a perfect plan on his part, worming his way into your heart, insurance in case anyone were to find out and rat him out, you could be there to lie for him.
But everything felt too genuine and that makes the matter worse.
"It's stuffy in here," standing up, you smooth out your dress, the skirt all wrinkled now. You try to ignore the way Blade stares at you, from your face to the way your legs move, unable to settle on one place. You can't tell if you're shivering from fear or slight arousal.
Just like how you can't tell if he wants to love you or kill you at times.
You're scared that he's going to hurt you. Go crazy and kill everyone in this house. Hurt himself.
You both fear and love him, but the fear is stronger than the love.
Blade reaches out from his position on the bed, hands resting on your sides before bringing you closer. You don't resist, allowing him to place you between his legs, trying your best not to flinch. He hasn't hurt you yet, he's still being gentle, he's still -
"We're the only ones here right now. Everyone left to either go home or attend to their business." His thumbs rub circles into your hips, tilting his head as his eyes travel between your thighs and your chest.
Your body freezes over. He just said your brother sent him to check on you, and now he's asking for...?
"I'm... I'm not really in the mood." You squeak in surprise when he brings you down with him, straddling him as he lays on his back. Locking eyes with you, his hands travel lower until they rest on your upper thighs. He hums in content.
"I know. But it's the perfect time for you to tell me what's wrong." The way his fingers dig into your flesh unsettles you. The look in his eyes do as well, both possessive and cautious. How did you not notice this before?
"Just tired. I didn't realize job hunting could be tedious," you settle down on him, gently placing your hands on his lower abdomen like you always would, drawing circles on it. When unsure and scared, revert to old habits that led to positive results.
You could feel him relax to your touch. Like his worries were disappearing, but not fully. You try your best not to cringe when one of his hands clasps over yours. His hold on it is gentle.
You wonder if these same hands strangled someone to death, or if he just stabbed them. They're blood stained, and you had allowed them to touch you, pleasure you, comfort you. And now they might strangle you someday, if he doesn't stab his sword through your heart first. And yet, despite everything, it still feels nice.
"Hm. Something else is going on in that head of yours," his grip on your hand gets tighter. In the past, you thought he would do such things because he didn't want to let go. But now knowing his past, finally putting a name to the look in his eyes, you're sure he wants to hurt you.
You remember him saying how to love something is to kill it, and to kill it is to love it.
You're scared he was talking about you. You want him to use you if loving you meant killing you. Because then throwing you away wouldn't spell the end of your life. But loving you would.
Even so, it almost hurts to think that.
"I wish you would tell me your real name." You all but sigh out, dropping your weight onto him, chest pressed against his, head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. He can't see your expression this way, the way your lips quiver and how wide your eyes are with every passing second.
His arms enclose around you, and for once, you hate how touch starved he is. You hate how his touch both comforts and horrifies you. You can't make you your mind, but you're still scared of him regardless.
He doesn't say anything, but once again, his grip gets tighter and tighter until -
"I know that you know."
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sovonight · 11 months ago
Text
ust natha | xan/radri, bg2
—✧—
Radri: Xan… are you alright?
Xan: "Am I alright"? How can you find the words to ask such a question, given where we are?
Xan: Being trapped beneath the ocean was terrible enough, but we have escaped that confinement only to be doomed in the Underdark. We are surrounded by drow who may discover and kill us at any moment. I have not seen the sky in far too many days.
Xan: No. No, I am not "alright".
Radri, tentative: Perhaps, there is still a way…
She offers him her hand, thinking there's at least one thing she can do for him—but Xan turns away from her.
Xan: I cannot, Radri. Not while my reflection is not my own… not while I will wake only to see the Underdark's ceiling above us, a barrier from the sun and the stars.
She tells herself this makes sense, but that can't stop a sharp spike of rejection from piercing her heart. Xan doesn't even flinch; he can't feel her, anymore. That, more than his lack of reaction, plunges her heart further into pain.
Radri: …Okay.
Radri: I'm sorry, Xan. I'll get us out of here, soon. I promise.
Xan, tired, empty: Save your promise, Estel'amin. There is no point.
She is still awake when Xan slips, at last, into reverie. Xan is curled up on the bed beside her, his back to the wall, his face partially concealed by the uneven barrier of his bent arms, the whole of him arranged to escape notice. It takes her a moment to dissect the sense of unease she feels at seeing this, and realizes that eerily, she thinks this is how she found him in Mulahey's lair.
It has been a long time since she has felt so helpless to comfort him. Seeing him, yet not being able to feel him, makes her feel like she's back in the past, when they were tentative lovers, and before that friends, and before that strangers. Perhaps their connection was always meant to be brief; perhaps she will never feel him again.
She turns her face to the side, letting her tears soak into her pillow. No, she can't get lost in those thoughts—when one is tired, one no longer thinks clearly, and when she wakes in the morning, everything will surely feel better. Trying to ignore the terrifying, heavy weight that she has carried into the Underdark, she closes her eyes and tries her hardest to focus on brighter times.
When she wakes, she half expects to see the inn's wooden ceiling above her, and a pit forms in her stomach when she sees the dark, spidery architecture of Ust Natha spread out above her instead. Her hand is empty, as is the room; a familiar ache fills her heart, but there is no one there to feel it.
She jumps at the sound of the door opening, ready to school her expression into something—well—meaner, but it is only Xan.
Radri: Oh—You surprised me.
She wonders if he catches the disappointed lilt in her voice—and wonders if she wants to hide it. Xan does not react.
Xan: The others are prepared to leave.
Radri: …And you?
Xan: Little else is more torturous than lingering in this place, waiting to be discovered. I am eager to leave, as well. If you are ready…
She isn't. But she doesn't need to be an enchanter to read the mood: everyone is antsy, uncomfortable, discontent, like Xan. As terrified as she is of playing the role of Veldrin, she must.
Radri: Just give me a moment.
She delivers the words with a reflexive smile, which Xan only stares at for a moment, before he steps forward and brushes a thumb down the corner of her lips, guiding her smile back into nothingness.
Xan, quietly, reminding: A false smile of this kind has no purpose here.
Despite knowing that it's only to ensure their safety, she can't help but feel relief that he's still willing to touch her.
Radri: Any more advice for my new role?
Xan: (sigh) This may be the only moment in which I think, "if only Viconia were here."
Xan: All I can suggest is to follow their orders, stay out of their notice, and speak only as needed.
Radri, joking, self-deprecating: Ah, my specialty.
Xan gives her a sadder look.
Xan: It is only temporary, Estel'amin...
Radri, quiet: Yes... everything is.
(The memory she visits in reverie is this one. Xan had shown her the stars in reverie when they were blocked in the waking world, and she had hoped to do the same.)
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squid-socks · 5 months ago
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Random shit I think should exists: (bcs I apparently make lists now when I’m angry or stressed🤷😭😅)
No loud noise before 11 on a weekend.
No loud noise at all on a Sunday.
All building works and especially road works should be completed in fall or early summer. NOT SPRING. And NOT WINTER. (When everyone needs transportation or the biodiversity is multiplying and can’t have stress)
All weed should be smoked either in a closed room or at night in a park - not a residential area. 😭
You should not be physically able to leave a bathroom without washing your hands. Dear men - I know the statistics. I don’t understand why you want to keep your dick and pee on your hands that fucking long. 👀👀
This is just an appreciation sentence for boots! Need a dermatologist? A hearing specialist? A blood test for cheap? They got ya✨ not on everything. But a lot of things🫶🫶
Repair cafes or stations. Where we can go and people there can teach us how or help us repair things we need repaired. Like a toaster or a lamp✨
Water bottle refill stations. I always ask at stores and often they are very happy to help me (if it’s a chain bcs those workers do not give a crap about their company and are kind enough to help for free with ice✨. Private owned don’t usually want to bcs they lose out)
Controversial - I don’t think it should be allowed for people to bother you in the street with pamphlets. Or sing loudly religious songs. I always get harassed bcs I’m short and female and it pisses me off bcs they get so pushy👀👀
More parks. More nature. All closer to towns! Towns should feel like this odd thing in the middle of the woods or something. Not the woods feel like the weird thing near a town👀
Pedal for power stations😂 or something. People can just charge their crap with their own effort. It’s eco friendly and funny. Maybe some arm versions for those that can’t walk✨
Just generally more third spaces!!! People need places to go that isn’t work and home and maybe a cafe!!! It’s tragic!! Even pubs are dying since COVID! This is a mental health crisis😀😀😀 (I’ve noticed it and I hate leaving my house✨)
Children safe spaces. Things for kids and teens to fucking do and be!!! Instead of the internet which is genuinely so damaging and always ALWAYS has preditors👀 places where mothers and kids are welcome. Or places within places that are designated for these groups of people to feel more safe. In the process of avoiding or protecting these people we’ve somehow made their comfort and safety our enemy???
Less of this “it’s not my problem” attitude. Bcs it is. It is your problem. A girl gets followed - help. A woman can’t get on a bus - help. A persons cat is missing - keep an eye out. There is trash everywhere - bring a plastic bag and some gloves and clean some of it up or join a clean up crew! Complacency is part of the problem - your not carbon neutral by doing nothing, you’re not keeping the issue the same by not helping - you make everything worse by doing nothing. Your existence IS NOT NEUTRAL.
There should be more Japanese sweet potatoes. I want them. They are so fucking good.🥹
Sorry for the rant and rave
🫶🫶 thanks for reading if you did - my opinions are just me being and angry little gremlin under my bed. So I appreciate you hearing my Little Rock thoughts.
Hope you have a wonderful day🫶🫶
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astra-galaxie · 1 year ago
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★✿▼♒ for fili savage :)
Of course, I have some headcanons for our gentle giant! I did make him, after all!😉
★ - sad headcanon
As a child, when Fili’s gigantism first manifested after starting puberty, he was hospitalized while doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with him. Due to the genetic mutation in his DNA from the enhancement serum, his body started growing at an unnaturally fast rate, alarming everyone. He was in constant pain as his body grew, leaving his muscles stiff and sore and his skin full of bruises from stretching so fast.
He also suffered from malnourishment as the serum was using up his nutrients faster than he could consume them. Fili had to be put on a feeding tube and IV fluids to receive a constant supply of nutrients so his body could keep up with what it was using. When his condition reached its worst point, Fili was bedridden and couldn't even get up to use the bathroom without screaming in pain. Even worse, some nights, the doctors had to sedate him so he could sleep through the pain as his body burned off the pain medication too fast for it to help him.
Fili’s parents couldn't bear to watch their son suffer in constant agony and did everything they could to get him to help. When MI6 finally found the solution to slow down his body’s production of growth hormones to a normal rate, Fili was able to experience being pain-free for the first time in months. He still had months of recovery to go through, including physiotherapy, but he didn’t care now that he was finally discharged from the hospital and able to go home and sleep in his own bed again.
✿ - Sex headcanon
To many people’s surprise, Fili is a switch. While he does prefer to be on top, he enjoys being the bottom with the right person. He can be kinky when he wants to be, but his favourite type of sex is the slow and loving kind. He likes taking the time to pleasure his partner and make them feel good instead of rushing to climax.
▼ - childhood headcanon
Growing up, the McGee family farm wasn’t just a place to find livestock and fresh produce but also a place for supernatural creatures seeking sanctuary from humans and hunters. As a child, Fili met all kinds of supernatural creatures, from fairies and pixies to sea creatures and were-creatures. There always seemed to be someone new on the farm seeking the McGees’ help, and Fili made many friends. Most don’t stay for long as they are just looking for temporary safety or aid, but some stay for a long time, and others still visit frequently.
Fili has also met his fair share of hunters over the years, and the first time he encountered them was when he was a child. Hunters had tried attacking the farm, but thankfully, Fili’s family managed to defeat them. After the attack, his family strengthened the magical wards around the farm, making it invisible to anyone seeking to destroy it or harm its inhabitants. Since that day, Fili has remained vigilant for possible hunters and vows to protect his family and friends from them.
♒ - cooking/food headcanon
Fili is a good cook but a better baker. He’s not great at making things from other cultures, but he’s always willing to give a new recipe his best shot!
While he prefers the foods he grew up on, he is always open to trying new things. Travelling with the Bureau was fun because he got to experience his teammates’ cultures through their cooking and try foods in the countries they visited. He always stocked up on local snacks that he liked and kept them in his and Star’s room to prevent the others from stealing them.
Some of his favourite foods are homemade breads and locally sourced produce. He always says he can taste the difference between foods from a local farm and those from a factory. As a child, his mother always made fresh bread for them to have for breakfast and sandwiches, and the McGee family farm grows some of the best fruits, vegetables, and grains in Dublin.
That’s all of my answers for Fili! Thanks for the request, Liz! I’m sure you enjoyed the angst fuel the most!😉
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schrijverr · 11 months ago
Text
Tomorrow Will Be Different 20
Chapter 20 out of 26
Instead of managing to meet up later, Oliver has to keep running with Akio. The only way to keep them safe is to go public with Oliver being alive, leaving him back home in charge of Akio, while Tatsu and Maseo are still in the wind
In this chapter, Diggle and Oliver infiltrate the Yakuza ship to get Tatsu and Maseo back.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: captivity, violence, minor character death
~~~
Chapter 20: The Rescue
Oliver is worrying he might have made a mistake in accepting Diggle’s help. The whole way back to their hotel room is silent and Diggle says nothing as Oliver takes the first shower.
The blood has soaked through his clothes and stained his skin. They’ll have to burn the clothes and maybe even the towels he’ll use. Just to be safe.
Killing someone again after a few weeks is oddly normal. There have been periods where he didn’t kill anyone these past few years, but it was always an option should it be necessary. He hasn’t let go of the mindset since returning to Starling, knowing he’ll do what he must to keep Akio safe. To complete his mission.
He hadn’t even thought twice about killing the Yakuza. He was useful for information, but useless as a loose end. It wasn’t until Diggle questioned it that he even realized that most people don’t consider murder an easy solution.
Maybe Diggle is in the other room right now, calling whoever he need to call to get Oliver arrested and locked up. Or maybe he’ll have the decency to wait until they get Tatsu and Maseo back, he looked like he meant it when he said he cares about Akio.
Whatever the case may be, Oliver is pretty sure that even if Diggle doesn’t sell him out, he’ll resign the second they’re home.
The thought makes him weirdly sad.
He doesn’t need Diggle’s protection, doesn’t need a bodyguard. And this arrangement is only so that they have a line to Lyla until the Yamashiro family is reunited. Diggle was never expected to hang around after.
But Oliver has grown fond of the man. He’s reliable, steady and silent. Sure, he has his opinions and Oliver knows when he disagrees, but he never seems to expect something from Oliver like everyone else in his life does. A part of Oliver has started to consider Diggle a friend and the feeling appeared to be mutual. Until Oliver fucked it up.
God, how will he ever integrate back home when he manages to freak out a hardened soldier with his violence? He never wanted to take this part home with him. However, it’s a permanent part of him and he can’t seem to let go. The violence feels a lot like safety.
Maybe he should just stay gone.
The note he left for Akio to give to his mom and sister told them he had to leave for a bit to fully leave this ordeal behind him and that he didn’t want to go through the pain of saying goodbye when he’d be back soon and to not worry about him. It’ll break their hearts if he never came home and Akio will be pissed if he breaks his promise.
However, if he has Tatsu and Maseo then Akio doesn’t need him anymore and Thea and mom will be okay to go back to how everything has been for the past three years without him dragging them into his darkness.
He knows he’ll never be able to do that to them. That his death hurt so much the first time and that disappearing now will only make everything worse, but the thought does tempt him as he tries to rid his body of the last traces of the life he took earlier.
If he goes home, he’ll need an outlet for all this darkness inside him. A month without violence and it jumps out so very easily. What if he doesn’t have a justifiable target next time?
Oliver doesn’t have time to look for answers now. He has to face Diggle and figure out a plan to rescue Tatsu and Maseo before they disappear into the Yakuza. He can put figuring out how to deal with the darkness on the same pile as figuring out what to do with his life after Akio is home. Those are both problems for future him.
He shuts off the water and towels down, not looking at himself in the mirror as he slips into new clothes, bundling the old ones in the towel and tying it up. Problem for after he talks to Diggle.
Tentatively he exits the bathroom, unsure what he expects to find.
Whatever it was, he’s sure it wasn’t Diggle sitting back in a chair, flipping through a magazine, looking up with mild interest when he enters.
“Feel better after the shower?” Diggle asks.
“More human,” Oliver says, which is more honest than he’s been with anyone in a while, though cryptic enough to feel comfortable.
Diggle nods and Oliver gets the feeling he knows more than Oliver would like him too. “You’re planning on burning those?” he asks, gesturing to the clothes in Oliver’s hands.
“Uhm, yeah.”
“Let me get my stuff ready to shower so you can take my shirt with you as well. Got a stain on it.”
Oliver is thrown completely by Diggle’s attitude. He expected anger, accusations. Not this unnatural blasé demeanor. He has no clue how to react, so he awkwardly stumbles: “Of course. Yeah. Smart.”
If he weren’t so confused and expecting different, he might say that Diggle is laughing at him when he says that, though does a good attempt at hiding it. However, that seems very out of place. Well, more out of place. So, he must be wrong.
Seconds later he finds himself alone in their room with more clothes in his hands. He just stands there for a few seconds, before jolting into action. He has clothes to burn, a task to complete, he can focus on that.
When he returns, Diggle has showered and made himself comfortable on one of the beds in clean clothes. He doesn’t look ready to sleep, instead leaning against the head board as he sits with his legs crossed. Waiting for Oliver, he observes.
Oliver tenses at that and hesitates as he closes the door behind him. He moves through the room, ignoring Diggle as he gets ready for bed, hoping the lack of acknowledgment will mean no conversation.
No such luck.
“So, you never really answered my question earlier,” Diggle says after a beat of silence. “Was the plan always to kill that guy?”
For a moment, Oliver considers lying to him, but he feels that will make it worse. He doesn’t meet Diggle’s eyes as he answers: “Yes.”
Diggle hums thoughtfully as Oliver awaits his reaction with tense muscles. When nothing comes, he asks: “Is that a problem?”
“I would’ve preferred, if you hadn’t done that,” Diggle answers and Oliver thinks, well, here it is, the other shoe. Then Diggle surprises him: “But it’s an off record A.R.G.U.S. mission, it’s not too much of a surprise. Just came out of nowhere. If we’re working together, I’d like to know the plan beforehand. You can’t just keep running off and tell me the bare minimum.”
“Oh.” That’s a more surprising grievance. Oliver is used to Amanda and Maseo, neither of which are fond things that aren’t need to know. Even Slade preferred to leave him somewhere, he still remembers when he stepped on the landmine and fully thought Slade had abandoned him, until he came rushing back.
“Look, I don’t know how long you’ve been working for Waller and what I hear isn’t great, but I’m not some lackey, I volunteered to come here as a partner,” Diggle says. “If we’re working together, you need to tell me the plan and let me have input. You might not be used to it, but I’m going to make sure to keep the body count to a minimum.”
“People will still die,” Oliver points out, because it’s true and he doesn’t know how to respond to any other part of what Diggle has said.
“I know, Oliver. I’m not an idiot,” Diggle deadpans. “You’re fighting a war, man, but you haven’t been home. Not really. You have no idea what war does to you. How it scrapes off little pieces of your soul. And you need someone to remind you of who you are. Not this thing you’re becoming. Or you’ll never come home. Not fully.”
Maybe that mutual feeling of friendship is still in tact. Oliver just has to not mess this up.
The thought of not being in control is unpleasant, but not having Diggle as back up sounds equally bad. So, he says: “I’ll still have the final call.” Then he tries to show that he is glad for Diggle’s support. “But I’d like your input.”
Diggle studies his face, then nods firmly. “We’ll start planning tomorrow. I’m beat.”
“Of course,” Oliver agrees. He himself is going to be up for quite a bit, he and sleep aren’t the best friends, but he’s not going to keep Diggle from resting.
He lies in bed and starts mapping it all out, so he’ll have a draft to present to Diggle come tomorrow.
Actually laying out his plan, is kind of nerve wracking. He knows the plan is tactically sound, but he has put Diggle on a moral pedestal and his judgment of the plan will have impact on their friendship. Getting Diggle’s seal of approval with a few stipulations, makes him breathe easier.
They spend the day scoping the environment a little more as well as getting their gear in order and mapping out an escape route, complete with inconspicuous vehicle.
Once the darkness hits, they’re at the docks, waiting on top of a container for the ship to arrive under the cover of the night.
As an archer and hunter, Oliver has become used to waiting in complete stillness until his prey comes in sight. Diggle is a soldier, so he does an okay enough job, but his restlessness is more present than Oliver’s.
Despite his outer demeanor, Oliver is just as glad as Diggle when the ship finally docks.
Since Tatsu and Maseo will be off the ship last, it’ll be more difficult to get them. They’ll be taken off the ship and into a car immediately, so they have to get them before they’re unloaded. However, there will be Yakuza members coming and going the entire time, which makes stealth harder.
For the first few minutes, they remain seated to observe the patterns of those unloading everything, trying to get a feel for their rhythm so they can insert themselves into it.
When they have it down, Diggle eases himself to the ground, covering the first bit of distance while Oliver covers him with his bow. Once he is closer, Oliver follows suit as Diggle covers him in turn with his gun.
It works out well this way. Oliver is less likely to be spotted due to his training and his weapon is silent, which means the more likely one to be spotted has the quietest way to silence whoever has spotted him, before an alarm can be raised.
They cover all the ground to the ship like this without being noticed, until they’re next to it, behind some of the cargo on the loading bay.
When there is no one with the cargo, since they’re getting the next crates, Oliver shoots an arrow to the upper railing. He covers Dig as he climbs, before doing the same.
On the ship, he pulls the rope up, but ties it to the side sturdily, so they can easily toss it down and use it as their way off once they’re escaping.
Diggle and Oliver hold their breath as Yakuza members pass underneath. Once they’re busy on the dock, they drop down into the hull. Neither of them knows the layout or where Tatsu and Maseo are held, so they have to orientate themselves fast, so they can move.
It’s fortunate that the removed cargo leaves the path open to a cage at the very back. Two figures sit there, looking slightly defeated.
Oliver gets Diggle’s attention and gestures for him to watch Oliver’s six as he moves in. Diggle nods that he understands and they move as a unit.
He trusts Diggle to keep an eye on the entrance as he focuses on the cage. Tatsu and Maseo look dirty, hollowed out and exhausted. It’s clear that life had already not been going their way before they got on this horrid ship.
The lock is sturdy, but old. Oliver can easily pick it. As he starts, Maseo opens one eye. The action looks defeated, before suddenly his eyes shoot open and he sits up, Tatsu slipping from his shoulder with a confused noise. “Oliver?”
“You look like shit,” Oliver says, grinning despite the terrible state his friends are in. They’re here. Within reach. Alive.
“What are you doing here?” Maseo croaks, his brain slow.
“I have a nine year old in my custody, who has not stopped asking about his parents for the past six weeks. I would hate to have to disappoint him,” Oliver tells him.
“Akio,” Tatsu gasps.
Oliver nods, grin widening as he sees the happiness reflected in their eyes. This feels good, he wants to feel like this forever.
“Is he okay?” Tatsu asks.
“He is. He’s back in Starling eating too many sweets and playing his games,” Oliver tells them, managing to pick the lock.
“Oliver,” Diggle warns. The Yakuza is coming again.
“Don’t move,” he instructs Tatsu and Maseo, before ducking behind some of the cargo with Diggle, hoping it’s not the crates they’re planning on getting this round. Based on the pattern it shouldn’t be, but you never know.
They’re so close, they can’t afford a slip up now. Oliver will kill all of them, if it means getting Tatsu and Maseo out of here. He can’t handle loosing them again. With every disappearance the chance of finding them again dips drastically.
The men take other crates. All let out a relieved breath.
The second the men are out of sight, Oliver is opening the cage, asking: “Can you two walk?”
“For Akio. I can walk,” Tatsu says determinedly and Maseo nods.
Still, they haul the two up and Diggle supports both best he can as Oliver covers their backs, ready to take out anyone that spots them. Diggle is the one that says: “We can’t go over. They don’t have the muscle.”
“You must destroy their cargo,” Maseo says.
“What?”
“They’re shipping stolen military weapons in. It’s going to be a blood bath when they end up on the streets. They’re going to America,” Maseo says. “You have to make sure they won’t get there.”
Oliver curses under his breath, quickly trying to come up with a new plan. A small part of him can’t help but think Amanda planned this, sending him here to find both Tatsu and Maseo and take out this shipment.
“Diggle, I’m gonna drop bodies,” he says.
“Do what you need to do, I don’t want that on the streets.”
It feels good to have Diggle’s blessing. “Good, get them out of here. I’ll cover you. Now! Run.”
Diggle doesn’t hesitate for a moment. Tatsu is the smaller of the two, so he hoists her over her shoulder, handing Maseo his gun, so he can support him with the other, while the A.R.G.U.S. agent watches them.
Yakuza start yelling and firing when they spot them. Maseo shoots some, but Oliver is the one primarily taking people out. Whatever hope they had for stealth is now gone, not leaving witnesses is the priority.
Once he has cleared the docks, he pops open one of the crates on the docks labeled as C4. He plants the charges before the back up comes back, as Diggle disappears between the containers with the two Yamashiros.
Oliver slips away too, waiting between the shadows until a new batch of Yakuza arrives. He watches as they find their comrades and get angry, checking them over. Once they’re close enough, he presses the detonator, watching how all the bodies and the cargo go up in flames.
He doesn’t even feel guilty for the lives he has taken. All of them are part of Tatsu and Maseo’s state, of keeping Akio from his parents. They deserve what came from them. Oliver is just the weapon that brings them to justice.
After a few moments to make sure everything burns properly, he turns and disappears into the shadows. Time to see Tatsu and Maseo properly again, he smiles at the thought.
~~
A/N:
I hope Diggle’s reaction doesn’t feel too out of character, but in my mind he is still a soldier and even in canon he didn’t mind the death too much, he was more upset about what Oliver was doing, a very different context to how he’s introduced to him now.
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countessofravenclaw · 1 year ago
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¿Puede la ondulación cambiar una marea? part six
Have you ever imagined what would happen if instead of of making Ambar Sol, Sharon would have aproached her problem with more level-headedness? What if, instead of throwing her daughter's life into a curve she just fires the Valentes, in hopes that they go back to Mexico and never find out the truth? Well, it was never going to be that easy, "everything you want you can achieve" being the family motto and all the for the Valentes after all. Monica and Miguel, could easily find another job, and so they do, with another family. A family that ends up being a bit of a surprise for Luna and all her friends.
“Okay, great job today everyone!” Juliana gathered everyone in a ring on the rink after the practice.
“Uuuu, did Juliana just praise us?” Simon joked, “I can’t believe it!” 
“I can still take it back,” Juliana glared at him. “Okay, so if you would all let me talk. We’re almost to the point three months away from the finale, which means that our team has officially been registered to compete.”
“Yayyyyy!” The team yelled.
“Again, if we could have the silence?” Juliana rolled her eyes. “You didn’t let me finish. So, since things are official, I have been sent some official paperwork which all of you need to complete, or you won’t be able to board a plane.”
“Paperwork?!” Jim whined, “I hate paperwork.”
“Direct your complaints to someone else.” Juliana ignored her. “One form for you equals three or more for me, so I don’t want to hear it.” 
She walked up the bleachers and grabbed a pile of papers. She handed the pile to Delfi. “We have four forms here. A standard registration, safety information, insurance form and a permission form for all of this. All the forms need to have signatures by the parent, so make sure you have ones if you’re a minor. Get me these back by the end of next week.”
“Juliana,” Gastón asked as Delfi was passing the form piles around, “What if you’re a minor now, but not during the competition?”  
“If you’re a minor when our plane takes off, you need to get everything signed,” Juliana sighed, “I don’t care if your birthday is the day after we get to Cancun, you need the signature. If your birthday is a day before we leave, then you don’t need one. Clear?”
“Yeah.”
“But whether you're a minor or not, you need to name at least one emergency contact on the safety sheet.” Juliana continued, “and it can’t be anyone here. Everyone needs an emergency contact who is not in this room at the moment, so I expect to see everyone have a different name on your paper. So, Simon can’t have Pedro, Pedro have Nico and Nico have Simon, if I’d give an example.”
“Hey!” Simon protested.
“Okay, that was all. Remember to stretch and we’ll be back tomorrow.” 
“This is a huge amount of paperwork,” Luna complained to Nina over the rink railing. “I never know how to fill these out.” 
“Well, we can do that together,” Nina said while looking over the papers, “I don’t have the registration and the insurance ones, since I won’t be competing, but they all pretty much need the same things. Name, date of birth, DNI. The safety sheet needs things like allergies and stuff and then just the parents' signatures on each one and we'll be done.” 
“Oh, right,” Luna stared at the papers, “How do I do that? I mean parents' signatures, since they’re…” 
“We’ll obviously, in your situation, they can’t sign,” Nina placed her hand over Luna’s on the railing, “By parents, Juliana meant each of our legal guardians, which usually are our parents. You’ll need to ask Isla and Marco to sign yours.” 
“What are you talking about?” Gastón scooted to the railing and grabbed a water bottle after caressing Nina's right ear quickly. Luna had noticed that that was some sort of a greeting. 
“Just the forms,” Nina answered, “Luna was wondering about the signatures.”
“What about them?” Gastón asked, “Just give the papers to Mom and Dad when you're done filling your parts. They love signing stuff, and unfortunately now they don’t get to sign mine. But I’ll have to let them look through them anyway, for the emergency contact stuff. They'll have to fill that out either way. Same applies to you.” 
“Uuuf, I hate all the paperwork,” Simon showed up next to Luna, “I bet Juliana was very happy when she got to dunk all of this on us. Like I would put Pedro as my emergency contact.” 
“Who are you putting?” Luna asked. 
“Mom and Dad,” Simon shrugged, “Who else? I mean we're already at Cancun, so they won’t even need flights if something happens to me, which it won’t. You got everything covered?”  
“Yeah,” Luna looked down on the papers, “I’ll just need to ask…”
“By the way, you haven’t told me anything.” Simon lowered his voice, “How long is it going to take?” 
“It’s impossible to know,” Nina answered, “Mom said that it’s really complicated, especially while the clause is still in place.” 
“I thought there was a good lawyer on the case.”
“Alexei is the best lawyer in the Buenos Aires región,” Gastón answered, “but that’s not automatically solving anything. I don’t know any more than you do.” 
“What are you all whispering about?” Jazmin showed up in front of them. 
“Nothing.” 
“Actually, I think we all would like to know,” The next one to speak was Ramiro. 
“We’re just worried about you, Luna.” Jim noted. 
“You said that your parents were taken away, but we know nothing about what happened after.” Yam continued. 
“We’re a team. We need to look out for each other.” The one saying that was Matteo which surprised Luna. He surely knew what had happened. Gastón definitely had told him.
The whole team was looking at Luna now. Even Ambar had joined the circle, with an expression that maybe even resembled concern.
“Yeah, it’s true.” She finally opened her mouth, “the situation has not gotten any better with my parents, but I’m thankful for you for the support. I guess I'll just have to hope for the best and keep being optimistic.” 
“But how does that work?” Delfi asked, “You’re a minor.”
“Luna’s parents were able to appoint guardians for her.” Nina explained. 
“And so we can have the record straight here,” Gastón started speaking, “They are my parents.”
“Yours? Seriously?” Ambar suddenly asked, “They just took that on? Just like that?”
“It is literally the most unsurprising thing in the world that they did.” Gaston nodded. “If you know them.”
***
“I have to say that I am a tad bit jealous that you have the key to the front door now,” Nina remarked as she and Luna walked through the front gate of Gastón’s house, “and the gate.” 
“Well, they didn’t need to give me the front gate access,” Luna responded. “But like, I guess it is easier this way or something.” 
“You’re not the child of their employees anymore,” Nina noted, “Since Isla and Marco took up the legal guardianship, in the eyes of the law, you kind of are their child and they need to treat you as such. But obviously this isn’t an ideal situation in any sort of way. I do believe that Mom and the other lawyers will get this solved sooner than later.” 
Actually, on this day, there was a court hearing being held about the case of Luna’s parents. Alexei Montresen had proved to be worth his reputation and cracked the clause open in record time. Everyone were hoping that that was a good sign for the rest of the case.
“I mean, it is kind of strange. I do miss Mom and Dad.” Luna nodded, “But I mean, they never treated me like I was their servant’s daughter, nothing’s changed that much and they are really nice. Like you can only imagine what would have happened if we’d been at the mansion. Senora Sharon would have…”
“You would have been Ambar’s “foster” sister,” Nina laughed slightly, “I’m sorry, this isn't funny, but just the picture… At least we get to be kind of sisters-in-law right now, in addition to being custody agreement buddies.”
“I meant to say that I was going to be shipped back to Mexico faster than I would be able to say cat in the bag,” Luna also started to laugh. It felt good to laugh. “But what do you mean by custody agreement buddies?”
“Well, there is a custody agreement about you and there is one about me. Mom and Dad have a pile of papers over who’s allowed to have me and when, dating back to when they first got divorced… Didn’t stop them from fighting over everything still, so I don’t get what the point of the documents were in the end… I am so looking forward to never hearing of those again when I turn 18.”
“UH, I completely forgot,” Luna slapped herself on the forehead, as they walked into the house, “I promised I’d call Simon. I’ll be right back.”
“Take all the time you need,” Nina said as Luna ran downstairs. Nina left her backpack on a coat rack and walked into the living room. 
“Hey!” She saw Gastón sitting on the couch in front of the TV. He had said he’d be home. His parents obviously were at the court hearing. 
“Hey!” He turned around and smiled as he saw her. 
“Luna went to talk on the phone with Simon,” Nina explained as she sat next to him on the couch and kissed him briefly as a greeting. “What’s this?”
On the TV, there was some sort of a broadcast of a hallway with heavy wooden doors. To Nina it looked like the courthouse. “It is not from the hearing is it? Those aren’t streamed.”
“It’s not of it,” Gastón explained, shaking his head, “But outside of it, and this is a totally independent stream… Which means that there is press there.”
“Why?” Nina looked at him confused while wrapping her arms around his right arm. “This isn’t a high-profile case.”
“It probably became one as soon as one media outlet found out that Mom and Dad were attending, plus Alexei does have pull. He doesn’t cover just any case.”
Nina nodded. Earlier this year, her mother had been part of a legal team for some hyper high-profile engineer for some sort of fraud case against his ex-wife or something. It had been a press nightmare, or that was what Mom had liked to complain to Mora. 
Isla and Marco’s presence had a similar effect, since the media had regarded them for years as the Power Couple of Buenos Airesian business scene.
Nina looked at Gastón again. She didn’t need to ask why he was watching this. He was worried, not just for Luna’s parents like Nina was, but also for his own. Given how firm they were on their stance, they were going to be heavily involved, and if this was going to get messy, they’d be in the middle of it. Court wasn't a fun place for anybody.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. 
At that moment the heavy wooden doors opened up on the stream. The first people to come out Nina didn’t recognize. Only after maybe five minutes did she recognize her own mother, who was walking with Alexei Montresen and a few other people who probably were other lawyers from his team. Nina couldn’t decipher much from Mom’s expression, except that it clearly wasn’t happy. 
Finally, Isla and Marco came out, walking behind all the lawyers. All the press people had clearly been waiting for them, as the air suddenly erupted in questions. 
“Were you aware that your employees were involved with a conspiracy when you hired them?” 
“How are you so adamant of their innocence?”
“Do you feel betrayed…?”
Nina felt Gastón stiffen. She understood why. This wasn’t fun to watch, especially when it was your parents who were being attacked by vicious press vultures.
Still, at least to Nina—who had never gotten to witness her own parents to act as a unit or a team—it was extremely admirable how they were handling this. As she had gotten to know them, it was clear how protective Gastón’s parents were of him, but also of each other. It was extremely evident from this situation. There was just something, with the nonverbal communication they effortlessly demonstrated, even in a tense situation like this. 
Nina looked at Gastón again. That was something that clearly happened when you truly loved and knew each other, like his parents did. Gastón truly had inherited all the best qualities from them. 
“The court documents mentioned an underaged daughter. Where is she?”
“Did she know about the crime?”
“Was she an accomplice?”
“We’re not going to comment on the situation,” Marco stopped, “Outside of that she is safe and taken care of. Hopefully her privacy will be respected, or we will need to take harsher measures toward all of you.”
“Does this mean that she still lives with you?” The press representative continued as Isla and Marco continued walking. 
“How can you trust her?”
“You don’t have any children of your own. Why take her in?”
“Are you seriously okay with this?” Nina asked Gastón again. “That they all think that your parents are a childfree couple?”
“You have to look at it this way,” Gastón looked at her, “If they did know that I existed, half of these questions would be about me.”
Nina thought. It was true. The questions that the press were throwing around about Luna, more than a few of them, were really intrusive, to a creepy degree. 
“It may seem like Mom and Dad are effortlessly cool and collected during these sorts of situations, but they are not,” Gastón continued, “It’s an act, well-rehearsed and honed through many years. If anything about me got into this mix, that’s when they lose their cool, and they can’t afford to do that.” 
“I guess that makes sense.” Nina nodded. 
“And it’s not like they tooth and nail deny my existence,” Gastón noted, “You could find it out if you dig enough on some sort of people's registry. I don’t have to have some sort of secret alias and people know, not just everyone. It’s for these sorts of situations.”
“What do you think happened at the hearing?” Nina asked next. “Given all the commotion.”
“Clearly they seem to know what the charges now are, which is a good thing,” Gastón looked at the screen again, “But at the same time… Mom and Dad don’t look happy, so something must have happened. Something bad…”
***
The courthouse was located in Buenos Aires city center San Nicolás, which wasn’t that far from Gastón’s house. So, about 20 minutes after he had seen his parents leave the courtroom, the door opened, and they walked in. Gastón had expected Alexei to be with them—which he was, but speaking on the phone, so he stayed behind at the foyer as his parents walked to the living room. 
“Hey!” Gastón turned around on the couch. His face faltered as soon as he saw his parents' faces. It was even clearer now that it had been from the stream. Something was wrong, which was evident from their faces. “...how did it go?”
“Is Luna here?” Isla asked.
“Yes, we came together,” Nina responded, “She went to talk to Simon on the phone. I can go get her.”
“Thank you.”
“What is going on?” Gastón asked his parents after Nina had gone. “You looked pretty upset coming out of the court and still look like that.”
“How did you see the courtroom?” Marco asked him. 
“Since it became a press hullabaloo, I found a stream from the door,” Gastón explained.
“Darling, you shouldn’t be looking at those.” Isla shook her head. 
“Well, too late now,” Gastón countered, “but you keep avoiding the issue here, which is legit scaring me. What happened?”
“We’ll explain it, as soon as Luna’s here.” 
“Oh hi!” Luna came out of the kitchen with Nina. “How did the hearing thingy go? Did you get good news?”
“You should all sit down.”
“Okay…?” Luna looked confused and sat down on the couch with Nina. 
“You found out what the charges were, right?” Nina asked, “Mom said that it was going to be discussed.”
“We did.” Isla sighed and looked at Marco. 
“Luna, your parents are accused of a financial fraud, just like our lawyer suspected, which is a B level felony.” Marco explained. 
“But they are innocent.” Luna started. 
“We know that,” Marco continued, “but it needs to be proven, which won’t be easy. I won’t lie to you; this will take a long time.” 
“But if what you learned was what Alexei suspected, why were you so upset?” Gaston questioned. He was standing behind the couch and had placed his hand on Nina’s shoulder. 
“Well,” Isla practically huffed, “We also found out who is pressing the charges. It is absolutely outrageous…”
“Who is it?” Luna questioned. “I mean everyone likes Mom and Dad. I can’t think of anyone who—”
“It is Sharon Benson.”
“Senora Sharon?” Luna's face suddenly faltered.
***
“Where are you going?” Gastón asked Luna as he parked the car in the garage as they were returning from Blake. 
“The door?” Luna pointed towards the cellar door. 
Well, you can use the actual door.” Gastón remarked. 
“I’m still not used to that.” Luna shook her head.
Gastón laughed slightly. This whole situation was quite amusing. He had not been surprised in the slightest when Mom and Dad had told him that they were planning on becoming Luna’s legal guardians for the time being. 
They hadn’t been able to have the large number of kids that they had wanted. If they hadn’t been such workaholics, they would have probably done foster care. 
This technically wasn’t foster care in the strictest sense, but close. The funny part was that out of all the people, it was Luna. The girl who was the cause of all of the problems Matteo got himself into. On the other hand, she was the best friend of the love of Gastón’s life, so of course he didn’t mind. 
“Good, you’re back.” His parents got up from the couch as they walked in. They had been working from home a lot recently. “Luna, we’re leaving in 30 minutes.”
“Leaving to go where?” Luna stopped on her tracks. 
“Alexei got your parents moved to a lower security facility, because they aren’t convicted yet, but not allowed bail,” Marco explained, “So, they are finally allowed visitation with you. We told you this few days ago.”
“OMG that was today!?!” Luna’s gaze shot up, “How did I forget? I literally need a phone alarm. I need to change!!!” She started running and then slammed herself into the kitchen door. 
“Are you okay?” Isla and Marco looked at her concerned. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Luna nodded and then opened the door, “I’ll be super-fast. You won’t even notice that I’ve been gone.” 
“She has been like that ever since I have known her,” Gastón looked after Luna amused, before looking back at his parents. “If you wanna know more, ask Nina. So, good luck for you two, with her I mean.” 
“Well, it's a good thing she’s able to be herself,” Isla noted, “Given the situation.” 
“Well, I’m gonna go change as well,” Gastón was about to turn toward the staircase. 
“Wait a moment,” Isla stopped him.
“Why?” Gastón asked. “I’m not coming to the prison.” 
“No, this has nothing to do with that. I just need to tell you this before I forget,” his mother continued, “I talked with Elise today.”
“Okay…” Gastón responded. Mom had talked with her sister, like she did at least once every two weeks. It wasn’t very special. “What about it?”
“Well, you did know that Calvin has passed the Lieutenant's exam?”
“Yeah, the family group chat was all about it,” Gastón continued, “Has he gotten the promotion?”
“Yes and no,” Isla explained, “Not in Cordoba, which isn’t surprising, given the economic climate. He is being sent for a transfer mission to lead a truck company as an acting Lieutenant right here in Buenos Aires.” 
“Oh, that’s cool,” Gastón responded, “When is it?” 
“He starts next week,” Isla nodded, “It’s for a month, but could be extended.” 
“Well, that’s great. They never come here.” Gastón remarked and started climbing the stairs. 
“Tell me about it.” Isla mumbled after Gastón had gone. 
“I’m ready!!” Luna ran back from the kitchen. 
“Good…” Isla and Marco looked at her, “Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Yeah…” Luna looked down at her hot pink sequin pants, “What's wrong with it?”
“Nothing’s wrong but holding facilities do have dress codes. For example, all sorts of jewelry are not allowed. They’ll set the metal detectors off.” 
“Oh, okay.” Luna looked at her tangling beads, “I can take them off.”
“Make also sure you don’t have any hair pins either. They’re also something not allowed, even if you can’t actually pick a security lock with them.” Isla noted. 
“Sure,” Luna nodded and sunk her fingers into her hair, “Good think that you said, because I do have probably a thousand pins. Otherwise, all my hair is on my face, and I won’t see anything. Now I will probably bump into every door.”
“Well, we can do something about that. Do you have a hair tie?” Isla was eyeing Luna's hair that was completely on her face now.
“Yeah, I do.” Luna pulled a tie off her wrist and handed it to her. 
“Can I?” 
Luna nodded and maybe after 5 minutes, her hair was on a Dutch braid. 
“There, now it won’t get on the way.” Isla tied the tie to the end of the braid. She looked at Marco. “We should get going.” 
“Yes, we should.” 
***
“I really hope Calvin’s assignment finally opens Elise and Mía’s eyes.” Isla said to Marco as they were driving toward the facility where Luna’s parents were held. 
“You have been hoping that they’d let us move them here for years.”
“I have, but this time surely, they won’t deny it. We left because there was nothing left for us at Cordoba. It is the same case for them, but they refuse to see it. Luis and Calvin are working way below their paygrade, because Cordoba’s fire department doesn’t have the resources, while here the department is constantly faced with a first responder shortage. Luis should be a deputy field chief at least, and there is always a demand for nurses. Mía and Elise won’t be out of work no matter where they live.”
“We need to trust the process.” Marco responded. 
“I just don’t understand what goes on in their head sometimes.” Isla shook her head, “Is it so wrong for me to want them to have some stability and not wonder every time have they been able afford groceries and am I being told the truth about how they are doing? Mía needs to think of Jonathan. He’ll start college in three years, that is not that long time, and he is so smart, they all are. They deserve the opportunities they’ll be given without thinking about the financial burden.”
“That’s why we agreed that we’ll go straight to him when he turns 18,” Marco noted, “Isla, if the best happens and Calvin gets a permanent position and they’ll move here, we’ll make sure that everything is order and the kids go to Blake, but there is nothing we can do right now. We don't have any influence in the fire commissioner’s office.”
“Dad would have wanted me to look after them, like he took me in, when he didn’t have to.” 
Luna had been texting Simon and Nina from the backseat and not paying attention to their conversation. She sometimes looked out of the window, to see unfamiliar sights. She clearly had never been to this part of the town before. Buenos Aires was a massive city after all. 
After a while they parked in front of a big, gray, concrete building which had a fence around it. It looked absolutely gloomy; the atmosphere brought Luna’s mood down immediately. This was where Mom and Dad were being held against their will when they hadn’t even done anything. 
“Make sure one more time you don’t have any metal on you,” Isla reminded Luna, before turning toward Marco on the first seat. She had some sort of a box out and Luna noticed that they both were in the process of removing their wedding—wedding and engagement in Isla’s case—rings and placing them into it. 
“Why are you taking them off?” Luna asked. Dad had always told her that he never took his ring off. Mom didn’t do the same because of some sort of sanitary reasons. 
“We would need to leave them at the security checkpoint,” Marco explained, “and we don’t want to do that. Who knows what can happen to the things left there, given the setting.”
“Oh, because they're so expensive?” Luna asked…before fully taking time to consider how appropriate it was to ask that. She sometimes really should think before opening her mouth. 
“They’re actually not,” Isla responded, “Our rings barely have any monetary value, but that doesn’t matter one bit when the emotional value is so high that it can’t be measured.”
“Okay.” Luna just nodded while wracking her head. Honestly, you’d really think that people as wealthy as Gastón’s parents were, would have really expensive wedding rings. 
She tried to remind herself of what Nina had told her that one time. They had been poor one time, maybe that had also meant the time they had gotten married. 
“Leave your phone in the glove compartment.” Marco said before they got out of the car, “and stay with us. Minors are not allowed to move alone, and this isn't a 100 percent safe place, even if it isn't maximum security.”  
“Okay,” Luna nodded, and they walked into the building. 
The whole experience was a bit weird. Some sort of guard or officer checked her ID and then she had to walk through what looked like a door frame from out of space. 
Finally, after what had felt like forever of different depressing hallways, a door opened to a small room…
“Mom! Dad!” Luna started running. She was pulled into a huge hug by her parents. “I missed you so much!”.
***
“I want all of you to have watched these before the week is over.” Juliana finished the team briefing in the Roller’s cafeteria.
“Juliana, what does a bunch of YouTube videos have to do with us winning Roda Fest?” Ramiro raised his hand.
“They are part of the theoretical aspect of skating, which all of you need a refresher in,” Juliana looked at him. “And I am not that stupid to think that any of you will read a page out of a book, even if I’d order you.”
“Are we gonna be quizzed?” Delfi looked horrified, “Please no. Some of us have final exams soon, and we need to graduate.”
“There won’t be a quiz,” Now Juliana looked amused, “But I will know from your skating if you did what I asked or not. This is for you, not for me. Anyways, now you’re free to go and I will see you all tomorrow.”
“Homework, I can’t believe it,” Jim complained to Luna as they were gathering their stuff. “Like the million forms weren’t enough—”
“Luna, before you go, would you come here for a moment?” Juliana yelled from the bar counter, “and actually, if Gastón you stay as well. Rest of you, shoo, and go to sleep early.”
“What is it?” Luna asked as she walked up to Juliana.  
“There is something I am a bit confused by.” Juliana looked at both Luna and Gastón. “Did you two mix your forms up?”
“No. What are you talking about?” Gastón made a face which was a mix of confusion and amusement. 
“Well, to start, you don’t have signatures…”
“I don’t need ones. My birthday is in a few weeks, way before we’re leaving.” Gastón protested, “Just like you said.”
“Well, that’s not the issue here,” Juliana pulled the papers out, “While you don’t have signatures, the ones on Luna’s paper have your last name. Plus, both of you have the same emergency contacts. I am just a tad bit confused on how this has happened, given that Luna’s last name is Valente as far as I am aware. Is there something I am missing here, because the only way this would make any sense is if you two are either half or step siblings. 
Juliana shook her head. “And I am sorry to say this, given this team’s love for interpersonal conflicts and drama, I am extremely surprised that that has never come up.” 
“No no no no.” At least half of Luna was laughing. 
“Yeah, that’s not the case,” Gastón shook his head, “It wouldn’t even be possible, my parents are very much together, so I can’t have half or step siblings.”
“Then what is going on here?” Juliana questioned, “Because, I will have to overrule Luna’s papers. She’ll have to drop out of the team without valid registration and permission forms.”
“No no! Please don’t do that!” Luna pleaded with Juliana, “They are legit.”
“How?” Juliana asked. 
“Wait, I can prove it!” Luna started rummaging through her bag and pulled out a paper that had been neatly folded in a plastic pocket. Nina had helped her to figure out how to store the custody agreement paper so she wouldn’t lose it. Luna handed the paper to Juliana.
Juliana read through the paper once and then a second time before looking at Luna and Gastón again. “So, let me get this straight. These are your parents, Gastón?”
“Yes, the biological ones,” Gastón nodded, “I don’t have any other sort.” 
“But they also are the legal guardians of Luna?” Juliana continued, “How long has this been the case?” 
“Maybe a month,” Gastón answered, “You can see the date on the paper.” 
“How has this become the case?” Juliana kept asking.
“It’s a really long story…” Luna started, “We, uhm no, the... How do you phrase this?”
“Luna’s parents work for mine,” Gastón took the explanation over. “Her dad as their personal assistant and the mom as the cook for our house.”
“But they have been arrested,” Luna looked down. 
“Your parents have been arrested Luna?” Juliana looked at her. 
“Their former employer is accusing them of a fraud case which they are innocent of.” Gastón continued again, “It’s a huge legal battle, and Mom and Dad’s lawyers are on it, but it’ll take a while.” 
“Why haven’t I been informed about this?” 
“You always say to leave the personal problems outside of the rink.” Luna said. 
“I mean things like that I don’t want to hear who is mad at who today because someone broke up with the wrong person,” Juliana sighed, “Not something like this. I am so sorry about your parents.”
*
“So, I was told that apparently I can send them as much letters as I want.” Luna explained to Nina while they were walking down the hallways, “I will write every day!!”
“Uhm.” Nina looked at her. 
“What?” Luna asked, “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“Not that,” Nina shook her head, “Of course you should write, but they might not get them as soon as you send them. Every day might crowd the postal distributions, especially if you want them to respond.”
“Oh,” Luna stared blankly for a moment, “I didn’t consider that. Well, every other day then? Would that be better?”
“For logistics, probably,” Nina nodded, “But I do get why you'd want to write every day. This is pretty terrible as a situation. Mom told me that they are trying to sort out the first court date, but that won’t probably do much for their release, yet. Good thing that no one can make you testify.”
“What do you mean by that? Like talk at court?”
“It’s complicated.” Nina shook her head, “We did talk about it with Gastón. Isla and Marco will probably both be called to testify.”
“Will he have to do that too?”
“Hopefully not. I am pretty sure that Isla and Marco won’t let him, even if he’s called, but if the date happens after his birthday, then it’s not up to them…” Nina's phone dinged, and she smiled at the message. “Would you mind if I drop by the library, I uhm…”
“Go, don’t worry about me,” Luna waved her away. She didn’t need to ask who had sent her that message, “See you at class. Hopefully I’ll understand a fraction of those derivative thingies.” 
“Yeah, see you!” Nina walked off toward the library. 
Luna decided that since she still had 15 minutes before the next class, she might as well go to grab some water and a cookie from the cafeteria—
—as she had been about to take a left toward the cafeteria, someone pulled on her arm and dragged her into an empty classroom. 
“Matteo?” Luna asked as she spun around trying to reorient herself, “What are you doing?”
“I just wanted to talk to you,” Matteo explained. 
“And you’re acting like a serial killer because…?” Luna was still staring at him. 
“I wasn’t sure you’d talk to me, so this is the only way.”
“Why wouldn’t I talk to you?” Luna questioned, “We’re friends.”
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Matteo shook his head. “Are we friends?”
“We’re not enemies.” Luna wasn’t at all sure what Matteo was going after here. 
“We never truly talked about…how it ended.” He continued. 
“Chico Fresa,” Luna rolled her eyes, “to me, it was pretty clear. You know what you did. What are you trying to do here?”
“Well, I thought that we might try…”
“Matteo,” Luna shook her head, “I can’t deal with this right now. For once in your life, think of someone else here. I don’t know when I will see Mom and Dad again or what will happen to them.”
“I know that that’s why I thought you would…”
“What about, Matteo? We already tried once.” Luna sighed, “We’re friends. Take it or leave it.” 
Luna huffed and stormed out of the classroom.
*
“How do you actually tolerate Matteo in your everyday life?” Luna asked Gastón as they walked into the house after coming back from school. 
“What now?” Gastón looked at her confused. 
“He dragged me today to an empty classroom,” Luna huffed, “And asked if we could try again. Like there is something even to try.”
“He did not…” Gastón shook his head, “I told him not to do that. But I do think it is beneficial that you two talked, so the record gets set straight.”
“Well, it’s very straight at the moment.” Luna shook her head. 
“Matteo brain cells live their own life sometimes. I love him, but he can’t always be defended.” 
“Good, you’re here.” Marco walked out of the kitchen, “I’ve been waiting for you.” 
“Why?” Gastón asked. “We have a long training session today.”
“Exactly, about that,” Marco continued, “I received a call from your coach today.” 
“Oh noh,” Gastón grimaced, “that had nothing to do with me, so I am out.”
“What did Juliana say?” Luna asked after Gastón had gone, “Don’t tell me the forms got rejected after all?” 
“No, but it was about them,” Marco continued, “She was worried about you. She wondered why she hadn’t been informed of what had happened to your parents. We didn’t know that they weren’t aware at Roller.”
“My friends all are.” Luna started, “The team is supporting me, but I didn’t think Juliana would care. I mean, I didn’t think it was important.” 
“It is extremely important,” Marco looked at her and placed a hand on her shoulder, “If something were to happen to you, they wouldn’t be able to contact the right people. Obviously in practicality, it would probably be quite likely that Gastón would be there or alternatively someone else who has our contacts like Nina or Matteo, but we can’t count on that. We are responsible for you, and we promised to your parents that we’d take care of you, which we’re taking seriously.” 
“I guess I do get that,” Luna looked down, “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry, it’s not your fault. It’s on us, actually, we should have made sure. We never have been that involved with roller outside of paying the bills, so it slipped.”
“You’ve never been to the competitions?” Luna asked. “Gastón has been in the team for years.”
“He and Matteo found the place in 2013, I think,” Marco responded, “Right after they started hanging out together. But no, we haven’t been there. He didn’t want us to. We respect that as his space. Plus, Isla and I have been really busy the past few years, which is not an excuse, though. Didn’t do any good for anyone. We have some things to make up for. We usually watched the performances online. You all are very talented.”
“Well, it’s never too late.” Luna shrugged, smiling. 
***
“These are the last of the documents, Senora Benson.” Rey handed Sharon a pile of papers. 
“I get a headache from all of these papers.” Sharon looked at them sourly. “You have everything else sorted?”
“Yes, Senora.” Rey nodded. “The solicitor told me that he would want a word with you preceding the court date. He has been speaking with defendants’ legal team—”
“I can’t believe they have Alexei Motresen on their side,” Sharon huffed. 
“I suggested getting in contact with him to you, a few years ago,” Rey noted, “You dismissed it saying that he was too young and inexperienced. Montresen and the Peridas have been friendly for years given that they are from the same generation. Isla and Marco Perida have an extremely wide connection network, which has allowed them to have a strong legal team, which is to Valentes’ benefit.”
“How was I supposed to know that they would stand on their side?” Sharon sneered, “Those two are mentally insane to do that. They have zero grasp of actual reality and how the world works. They will someday regret it all, if I can help it.” 
“That being, Senora Benson…” Rey sighed exacerbated, “The odds… Given Montresen’s involvement. Valparaiso is also another great asset, especially given her own personal relationship with the Valentes and her daughter being romantically involved with Peridas’ son. This is personal to the people running the case, so they are not going to be backing down.”
“I am not to be frightened by some miniscule resistance!” Sharon started losing her cool, but quickly regained it again, “They know how to put on a good show. When you come from nothing, you end up with nothing, it’s the law of nature.” 
“I am sorry,” Rey considered one more time before speaking, “But if I was you, I’d consider all of this one more time. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to war with the Peridas. Their reach is massive, you said that yourself. They have all that it takes to make that last, they have an heir. He has been in the same class as Ambar for ten years. Remember what I said about Valpraiso’s daughter? He will have his own children someday with every likelihood and they will be a powerful dynasty.”
“That is not going to happen.” Sharon had slammed her cup down on the saucer so hard that it cracked, “I will not be undermined, not by them, not by the Valentes. Sol will not win, I can’t allow that for Lili. They will pay one day for protecting her.”
***
Ambar sighed and leaned back on an armchair in her room. Madrina was never fun, but she had started to become insane… And when she was like this, it was no fun to be around her. She was already dreading the dinner. 
Ambar reached toward the shelf in front of her. She ran the silk scarf between her fingers. It honestly felt like another life after the Roller fire…
…she really should be getting rid of that scarf. She had never been able to frame Luna, but at this point, she wasn’t sure how much she would have even wanted to do that. Lunita had become 100 times less insufferable when you didn’t need to see her face 24 hours a day seven days a week. 
Even if Lunita had the most ridiculous luck in the world. Why did everyone have such an obsession with taking care of her…?
She honestly just wanted to forget about the fire. Nothing had come of it, it was the past. Now it was the future and she needed to focus on the Roda Fest and the victory. 
Cancun was also a great place, where she could get away from everything. Simon had offered to show her around, which was…it was an intriguing offer. 
“Ambar!” The door to her room opened up and Alfredo peeked in. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” Ambar smiled. She didn’t mind. Alfredo was a fun old chap. “Come in.”
“I came here to hide from my daughter.” Alfredo explained. 
“Madrina just is like that,” Ambar shrugged.
“What do you got there?” Alfredo pointed to her hand.
“Oh, it’s just a scarf,” Ambar showed him the fabric. 
“Well, this is beautiful,” Alfredo looked at it. “Kind of reminds me one of the most fashionable items that I wore in my youth.” 
“Oh, well. You can have it.” Ambar started. “I have so many.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes.” Ambar nodded, and placed the scarf onto Alfredo’s hand, “It’s not even my style. I don’t remember where I’ve even gotten it from.”
“Well, thank you.” Alfredo smiled. “So, tell me. You finish school in a few months, what are you planning to do after that?”
“France.” Ambar stated, her voice coming out a little unsure.
“Hopefully someone has told you that you’re allowed to disagree with my daughter. What do you want to do?”
“Not fully sure,” Ambar shook her head, “but Paris is my calling.”
“Don’t you have people at your school who can help with that? Maybe you should talk to them before you make any final decisions?”
***
Gastón shook his head as he walked up the stairs at Blake to the higher floors. Why the guidance counselor wanted to meet at 8 am, was beyond him…
Well, actually he knew why. Surely this was the school’s one last ditch effort to make him change his mind about Oxford. He had probably disappointed the whole faculty from the secretary to Mr. Ramirez himself, especially after Matteo’s decision to stay as well. They wouldn’t get more names on the notable alumni board.
But it was too late. He had made his decision, and his application was fraudulent anyway. No matter how much he had forgiven Nina and they had put it behind them, he couldn’t possibly use that application. It wouldn’t be fair for the other applicants for him to take a place from them.
“What are you doing here?” He pushed a door open to the hallway where the senior’s counselor’s office was located. To his surprise, he saw Ambar leaning on the wall in front of the office. 
“I got an email to come here,” Gastón answered, “What are you doing here? Our first class is at 10. Why are you here two hours early?”
“I came to see if I could get an appointment,” Ambar said simply.
“For what? Haven’t you always been set to go to Paris?”
“You’re the one to talk. Weren’t you always set to go to Oxford with Matteo?”
“Well, both of us changed our minds.” Gastón shrugged. 
“Well, maybe I did too,” Ambar shrugged, and a silence loomed over them for a moment. “It is gonna be quite embarrassing for your parents when the case is lost.”
“You don’t know them,” Gastón looked at her, “They don’t lose.”
“Nor does my godmother,” Ambar continued, “Honestly, I am trying to warn you. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”
“Like accusing innocent people of a crime that could land them in prison for 30 years? I think we’re all aware of that.” 
“You’re so sure they are innocent?” Ambar made a few indescribable faces, “What’s up with the sudden loyalty to Lunita? Is it because she’s Nina’s best friend, or because Matteo likes her? He liked me once too, so we can’t trust his taste.”
“Yeah, she’s important to people I love, but I care about her too.” Gastón looked at her confused, “Plus she’s technically family right now.”
“Anyone trying to take up raising Lunita must be insane. She doesn’t even know how to tie her shoelaces.” Ambar rolled her eyes, but there was something else in her tone that was hard to pinpoint. Something more vulnerable.
“You know, you were so much nicer in third grade.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Ambar looked at him astonished. 
“Not really,” Gastón shook his head, “Sometimes I wonder what happened to you.”
“I grew up.” Ambar looked toward the ceiling.
“You don’t talk to your parents, do you?”
“What?” Ambar stared at him. “They… They travel a lot. They’re extremely busy. It is not that simple.”
“You do realize that I know exactly how that feels?” Gastón looked at her back, “It is not fun, no matter how much you pretend. That resentment doesn’t just go away. You should try and talk to them, it could help. It did help.”
“I don’t think so,” Ambar stared at the wall for at least 10 seconds. “You don’t know how lucky you are. Yours actually care, apparently too much for their own good, given everything with Luna and that mess. Saffira and Gareth, they—”
“Uugh, how do you get the doors open in this place?” The door at the end of the hallway opened and Luna crashed in. 
“Lunita?” Ambar looked at her, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, good thing I ran into you,” Luna continued, “I have no idea where I am.”
“Clearly.” Ambar rolled her eyes.
“You’re probably in the wrong place,” Gastón said to Luna. “This is the senior counselor’s office.”
“Oh, well,” Luna looked at something on her phone,” I got an email that I was supposed to pick up some sort of survey thingy from storage 5Bx.”
“Well, that’s actually should be around here.” Gastón looked around. The hallway had multiple storage closets.
At that moment, there was an extremely odd Whoosh sound coming from the closet closest to them.
“What was that?” Ambar looked at the door, “The AC here has never been good, but if that’s how it’s gonna sound? I will go crazy—
“It wasn't the AC,” Gastón said while looking at the door. “That’s smoke.”
{}
Reminder to everyone, just in case, Ambar is not Sol and no one thinks she's alive. Meaning that everyone thinks that Ambar is just Sharon's goddaughter and she lives with her because her parenst, Saffira and Gareth Smith (Yes, I gave them names, but don't they sound deliciously made up?) work in a different country. In reality they don't actually exist. Well, I think I have said before that I want to try to give Ambar a redemption my own way. If someone is worried: What about Simbar? Don't be, there will be Simbar, but this is not a ship focused fic and I am aproaching this from my own angle. I finally got some narrative use out of my headcanon about Gastón and Ambar having known each other for the longest time. Remember when few parts ago she said how she admired how his family was, but she defintely wasn't jealous... Yeah, she's 100% jealous. People, who are exactly the same economical and social staus as Sharon (even if she would want to disagree), but also completely capable of loving and taking care of their child. Isla and Marco might "pretend that Gastón doesn't exist" for publicity and security reasons, but they would never ever deny him being being their child. Ambar is being denied that aknowledgement everyday by her mother, she can't even have the last name. And cherry on top is that LUNA is taken in by them. Just like the Valentes in canon, a demonstration of something she she can't have, but should have. Anyways, moving on... I gave a small aknowledgement to Lutteo ´, so we can establish we we stand with them, answer to which is that we don't stand with them. Matteo has never factored in the Sol plot, which all of this is part of, so it's hard to include him now. Maybe I will include him more, because Luna's "foster" parenst (I am not sure what is the appropriate term) are basically Matteo's second set of parents (I realize that I haven't demonstrated that very well in this fic). Anyyways, everyone knows how I feel about Lutteo, so they aren't getting pagetime. This part was really maybe a way to let dust little bit settle, so to say. The shock is over, and everyone, including the reader, is getting more confortable with the situation. Luna was not going to cry in her room for the rest of the fic. The truth will always come out in the end, no matter how long it will take. Sharon is again, should really listen to Rey. She is stuck is her conservative ways and it shows. Her opponents are about 20 years younger than her (I think she is in her late 50s) and have made their own way in life, so of course they network with people like themselves. When in doubt you need an Emmet Forrest, not a Callahan (Legally Blonde referene if you're nor aware). This has probably been the first time I have writen Juliana, whixh was fun. She thought she had uncovered some deep secret... So, the dust got settle an in the end we picked upped with some PLOT... Hehee.
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babythegod · 2 years ago
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Remember when I was 16 and my cousins kept getting pregnant so you woke me up out of my sleep to accuse me of being with child, beat me with a broom then called the police on me &I wasn’t even sexually active. I had to cover my black eye with make-up during thanksgiving festivities or when we actually still lived with Monterra &you hit me with a pool stick before school (for getting “smart”) so I tried to stab a knife into my wrist vein (where my ankh tattoo is now because I was sick of looking at the scar) or when nobody gaf after lil bro busted my lip wide open cause I said he “acts like our dad” or when I lost my cat and you lied and told him I was trying to assault you so he came into my room and abused me as you watched proudly from the doorway. Fun times 😻
Kinda an excerpt : from my upcoming book :
The Calling.
“I still cry for that teenager that was left with an ultimatum that would unknowingly change the trajectory of her entire life and leave me scarred and traumatized for years. When I told my dad “NO!” I didn’t want to live with him as he threw my mom out of our family home , I didn’t realize at the time that I was choosing death. I meant NO ! I want all of this to end now. NO! can we fix it ? NO ! Let’s press rewind …My innocence was killed that night &I lost everything I ever knew to be true. I had always felt the absence of love but then safety vanished as well. No one ever asked me if I was ok . No one. Not once. I began to look for home in all the wrong people and places. Both of my parents swear they did “their best” with me but the way my brothers were and still are treated , I know that’s not valid. I was denied child support my entire teenage years while everyone else received lavish new clothing &designer shoes , I would get berated if I ever tried any piece of my moms wardrobe on. I remember hearing “YOUR DAD GIVES ME $600 A MONTH, ALL FOR FAT” an innumerable amount of times. So I would walk to this bootleg cd/dvd/ women’s apparel store called “Hot Girls” every single day after school begging the owner to let me work there. It’s lowkey so funny cause it was right across from the police station and he was pirating his ass off 😹😹😹 He finally agreed and I made $5 an hour , from 4-8 , when I got off the bus I would go straight there &all day Saturday. He was closed on Sundays. $70 -$120 cash under the table every week is what helped me survive. Now that I think back , Seven was really the only father figure I had as a teen. He was a skinny weird little dude from Hollygrove. We would always fuss cause I was a product of my circumstances and he was Dwayne PONCHO Eli, I still don’t really know why people called him Seven but he always told me “you’re not country like most Kenner people, you’re different 😹” I am so thankful for him because I could’ve got lost in the streets like most abandoned young ladies do. I worked there until I was 18 &was able to find real employment. “
The main reasons I can never bond with my father still to this day; 1. Our relationship was never fostered. 2. While working at my job I purchased a white pair of shorts , that were too tight and skimpy , I admit. But I just thought they were fly at the time. I couldn’t have imagined that Instead of buying your daughter new clothes you’d rather wish rape upon her , vocally in front of our entire family in my grandparents house. No one even batted an eye. No one addressed his cruelty. My dad must be a wizard because his evil wish eventually came true in 2015/2016, my senior year in college I was assaulted in my own apartment. I went into denial, dropped out with only 6 credits left. I honestly believe; Sire &the Holy Spirit saved my life. I would not know love if it wasn’t for Christ.
The things I am still struggling to forgive, but can never forget.
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The hate u give little infants fucks everyone …
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