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cdroloisms · 3 years

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Do you consider a possibility that c!Punz never betrayed c!Dream in the first place and whole "I'm sorry, Dream -- but you should have paid me more" thing was a facade and undercover for Punz? Like Dream said that Punz should not associated with him, so it was intentional-

staged disc finale theory my beloved !!! :D it’s definitely one of my favorite theories, though i’m still holding out (for now) as for believing super firmly in one direction or another (tho the staged finale is definitely the one i prefer for Many reasons, haha.) c!punz is so so fun no matter if the betrayal was intentional or not, but oh boyyyy if it was something planned ,,, man .

*c!dream voice, after quackity starts visiting*: the risk i took was calculated, but man am i bad at math.

anyway c!punz and c!dream interactions make me soft as heck so have this !!

tw: implied torture, abuse, violence, blood, injuries, emotional distress, panicking, dehumanization, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy mindsets, illness, trauma, flashbacks, starvation mention, suicide mention, death mentions, dark content, dark imagery, prison arc/pandora’s vault themes, c!quackity critical/dark portrayal of c!quackity

Dream comes to in vague moments and flashes.

There’s a hand brushing over his forehead, too gentle to be Quackity or the Warden, not Techno because Techno is Gone and he has Left and won’t come again, running through the sweat-soaked locks and pulling them back out of his forehead. He’s unbearably hot, shifting around on the ground, only barely registering it moving beneath him. Water, cool and clear, is tipped in between his lips, quenching his thirst and easing the dryness of his mouth. Someone speaks, voice low and rumbling, and even though he’s unable to make out the words, there’s something about the cadence of them and the specific rhythm in which they move and rise and dip that is bone-achingly familiar, enough to lull him into a fitful sleep. Through it all, there is always something, someone, lingering in the edges of his vision, a shadow standing near and watching over him; part of him remembers Quackity, remembers the Warden, and recoils in fright; another part of him remembers Techno, remembers the barest flashes of a life before obsidian and lava and pain and hell, and wants nothing more than to get closer.

When the fog in his head finally clears away enough to think, the first coherent thought he has is oh fuck, I need to piss.

Which, out of all possible things to think, is probably up there as one of the worst, and he’s sure that when his head feels a little less like it’s trying to actively kill him (ha, let it- it’s far from the first to try) the panic will settle in as it always does. As it is, he’s exhausted, and hungry, and he really really needs to pee- so he forces his eyes open to move away from where he’s probably still stuck in a puddle of dried blood in the middle of his cell.

The second coherent thought he has is this: this isn’t Pandora.

The realization has him thoroughly awake, eyes snapping open out of his previous fatigue to take in his surroundings, feet kicking out to the weight on top of them that he hadn’t even noticed was there, panicking against his restraints that end up not being restraints at all, giving way easily under his thrashing and resolving to what appears to be a thick blanket when he has the mind to look. With the covers gone off of whatever he’s lying on (a bed?) he’s suddenly, unbearably cold - the prison has always been hot, the lava baking into him and leaving his skin sticky with sweat, and he thinks that the room he’s in is probably not meant to feel like a fucking freezer, but after months of being one wrong step away from heatstroke, anything cooler than the goddamn Nether feels like literal ice against his skin. The room is wooden and cozy and oddly familiar, an open door leading to what appears to be a bathroom and a closed one going who knows where, window panes built into the opposite wall to let the sunlight in. It’s a nice room, all things considered, and Dream fucking hates it.

He pulls himself to his feet, cursing at the wobbly edge to his stance when he finally manages to stand, his vision wavering dangerously in time to the spinning of his head. His eyes flick between the two doors - he still needs to go to the bathroom, and using it now will lessen the amount of things to get in the way of his escape in the future - but at the same time, there's no knowing when people will come to (hurt him, beat him, starve him, punish him, leaving him bruised and bleeding and half-dead on the floor just as he deserves) him and he needs all the time he can get to get the hell away. In the end, he slinks into the bathroom, ignoring the thudding in his chest as he does so - at the very least, the cabinets in the thing might provide him with some manner of a weapon.

He’s only just past the door on the way out - a fucking broomstick in his hand because it’s all he could find - when his ears catch on the sound of metal clicking against each other and his eyes fall on the knob of the other door shaking as someone makes their way in. All at once, panic slams into him - goddammit, he should’ve just run when he had the chance - and he directs quick, desperate glances at the window. Maybe, if he’s fast enough, he can book it out of there and disappear into the trees; it’ll hurt, but it’ll be better than getting caught. Anything would be better than getting caught-

“Dream?”

Dream blinks. All at once, the same feeling of getting the air punched out of him returns, but combined with something warm and floaty wrapping around his chest, something almost a little like relief - and hell, if that isn’t something he’s not felt for a while.

“Punz?”

Punz is standing in the doorway, hoodie rumpled, expression more than a little frazzled; Dream’s breath hitches at the sight of the sword strapped to his side, but their face holds none of the harsh edges and cold-dark-hard hatred that had characterized the Warden and Quackity’s visits, mouth slightly parted and eyes shining with nothing but what appears to be shock and concern. The sight of them, again, nearly has Dream dizzy, a swell of tangled, unexplainable emotion rising to the back of his throat as he sways on his feet. He hadn’t thought that he would see Punz again, he realizes, had never thought he’d see his stupid gold chain and his stupid outfit he never bothered changing, ever, or that same lopsided smirk and pale blue eyes- the last time he’d seen them, it was in that vault, their mouth twisted up in the act the two of them had decided on and eyes shimmering with unease and regret; as far as goodbyes went, it wasn’t the worst, not when Punz was one of the few to never leave him, not really, not when something ached in their expression other than the hatred that had colored all of the other expressionless faces watching him die. Months later, alone in Pandora, he must’ve grown resigned, or something, the repeated reminders that he would die alone and afraid and it would be nothing more than he deserved settling into his skin and against his bones; Punz’s expression twists, visible even across the room, and- oh.

They must’ve thought the same thing, too.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Punz asks, finally, and Dream decides not to point out the way his voice cracks harshly in the middle, especially when the other man strides forward and starts to awkwardly herd him back in the direction of the bed - covers still thrown to the floor - in the middle of the room. Dream lets them, not replying because he doesn’t really know where to even begin describing the tangled knot of panic and shock that had strung his muscles tense when he woke up in a room he didn’t recognize, not knowing if he can really describe it all at all, trying his best not to flinch at the hands flitting in the corners of his vision as he falls back into a sitting position onto the bed. His fingers settle into the mattress, pressing into the bedsheets cautiously and marveling when they fall away under the pressure. Punz watches him, expression odd, gathers the blankets from the ground and presses them over and around him in a way that’s entirely awkward but does leave him warmer than he’d been before, before walking back on his heels with an odd expression that makes Dream’s insides twist.

“You,” Punz says after a long second, voice wavering, “are a fucking idiot,” and it’s all the warning Dream gets before a white-and-black blur is rushing towards him, arms wrapping around his chest and his vision whites out in alarm and panic. When the pain doesn’t come, he comes back to his senses enough to realize that Punz’s arms are still wrapped around him, shoulders shaking as he holds him close but not painfully, careful not to pull too much against the places on his ribs and back that leave him gasping with small shocks of pain, head pressed against the crook of Dream’s neck and hair tickling his face. Dream can feel his heart hammering in his chest, but as the panic dies something warm and long-neglected stirs in the middle of his chest, and he melts forward with a quiet hum. This is- nice. Really, really nice.

“What were you thinking?” Punz mutters, too quiet to really be directed at him, hands curling tighter into the folds of the hoodie - oh, he’s wearing one of those, not the same stiff, bloodstained material of the prison uniform that had chafed against his skin, another constant source of pain and discomfort of thousands in the hell that had been Pandora’s Vault - on him, and Dream doesn’t really know what to do except sit there and blink dumbly, listening to the heartbeat of the person leaning against him rumbling against his ears. It’s oddly calming, has the pressure on his chest lightening enough to take a full breath, and then another, the warmth of someone leaning against him almost too much but not enough at the same time - his eyes burn, and he ignores them.

“I-” he doesn’t really think that Punz was really asking a question, but just ignoring his question seems rude, too, and even despite the fuzzy warmth settling into his skin and into his bones from the pressure of Punz’s arms around his body and their head against his shoulder, he’s still unable to shake the anxiety of leaving a query unanswered, a constant murmur to listen obey do as you’re told or you’re going to regret it put on a damn good show or suffer the consequences remaining no matter how hard he tries to push it away. He wets his lips when his mouth feels too dry to keep speaking, eyes fluttering closed as he leans forward further, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You-” Punz cuts themselves off with a wet, incredulous-sounding laugh that has Dream jerking back despite himself, meeting their ice-cold eyes when they pull themselves back to look at him. He doesn’t really recognize the expression he wears, Dream realizes with a jolt, the way his lips are pressed together and the churning in his eyes, and his lungs seize in his chest.

“Sir-”

If anything, Punz’s expression only seems to harden, and the warmth disappears as Dream looks into their eyes - cold, two polished shards of ice, frosted over pools of water in the middle of the tundra, flinty and sharp and brilliant blue. His hands shake as he pulls them back to his chest, trembling from the chill that’s made its home in his muscles and frozen them in place - sir sorry sir please don’t hurt me im sorry please I didn’t mean to

“Fuck, Dream,” he shakes his head, and only then does Dream see the slight wobble to their bottom lip, the waver to their words like they’re struggling to keep themselves together, “why didn’t you say anything?”

What?

You almost died, you know,” he keeps going, not meeting his eyes as they direct their gaze out the window, “Several times, honestly. Fucking hell- when Techno brought you out- I didn’t think you would survive. I didn’t think anyone could survive that.”

Dream swallows. He doesn’t remember getting out, doesn’t really remember much at all if he’s being honest; there was the black of the cell, the heat of the lava, Techno promising to get him out before disappearing in a flash of purple, Quackity throwing him against the wall (Where the fuck did Techno go? You better have a fuckin’ answer, pal, if you want your death to be anything resemblin’ quick-) then nothing. Everything. His heart hammering in his chest and blood slick against his skin and the press of metal against his windpipe and pain, the only constant within it all, the only thing that made any goddamn sense when the room seemed to flip and turn and twist and his feelings knotted and frayed between anger-betrayal-distress-sadness-fear-grief, when reality swirled into a dizzying blur of colors and feelings and sounds carving themselves into the inside of his skull- then here. Dream flexes his hand experimentally, marveling at the feeling - the pain is almost gone.

He’d forgotten how it felt, really, to live and not hurt.

“Dream,” Punz calls again, voice low and worried, and Dream can’t help the way his head snaps up to meet their eyes and can’t help the flinch that twists his neck back when their frown deepens. It’d been a show, at least he tells himself, because Quackity would stop earlier if he screamed more, but- his hands tremble at his sides, twisted into the sheets of the bed, a near-constant litany of reminders and rules beating like they have a heart of their own in the back of his head. It was a show- he feels himself almost buckle, give in under the force of the stare leveled at him, and hates himself for how weak he feels, pinned under the eyes trained on his own. He’s not sure how much of a show it is anymore.

“Dream,” Punz repeats, words even softer, and the ugly feeling of shame and anger twists inside Dream’s chest again. Punz- ever unflappable, deadly with almost any weapon and never letting anyone see him as anything but deliberately apathetic - is watching him with an expression so uncharacteristically and unbearably gentle that it makes his breath catch in his throat. “You could’ve died,” he says once again, and the look that paints his face is so terribly vulnerable, feelings pouring over like a cup overfilled, bubbling forward and bleeding from every corner, and Dream- can’t. He doesn’t know what to do in the face of such stark emotion, doesn’t know how how to handle the way his eyes burn and his heart throbs like an exposed nerve, the way everything yawns wide in the middle of his chest into void and emptiness and pain so deeply carved in the space within his ribs that he half-thinks he’s been hollowed out entirely.

“But I didn’t.”

Punz pulls back, but Dream isn’t looking at him, is staring at the scarred surfaces of the backs of his hands and the knobs of his knuckles sticking out against the thinned-out skin and the yellowed nails he’s pushing against the blanket, the fourth and fifth ones of his right hand missing. They shake, no matter how long he looks at them and how hard he tries to make them stay still, and he can feel a voice whispering in the back of his mind, tone too familiar to ignore. Weak.

“I didn’t die,” he says when Punz doesn’t reply, looking at his scarred hands, weak hands, broken hands. “So it’s okay. We can keep- we can keep going.”

“Dream-” their voice is a blade scraping against an anvil, nails scraping over his ribs, his hands clamping over his ears before he’s realized he’s moved and his brain screaming at him for doing so once he realizes that he has, “-what the fuck are you talking about?”

Still, he hadn’t survived months of Quackity’s visits by bending over the second he was pushed, so he forces his tongue to move from where it’s fallen to the bottom of his mouth like lead, feels his eyes go steely even from under the way his vision has already begun to wobble.

“It’s not over yet,” he continues, trying to keep his words even, “‘cause I didn’t die, so we’re not done. I gotta- we have to reevaluate, of course,” he can’t stop, because the second he stops talking is the second he falls apart, so he ignores the way that Punz stiffens and stills and doesn’t let anything stop the flow of words spilling out of his mouth, “because the vault and the prison- um, obviously didn’t go as planned, but it’s fine. Just a minor- um, minor inconvenience. A setback- but it’s not- it’s not unsalvageable- we just have to-”

“Are you kidding me?” Punz cuts him off with a sharp laugh, disbelieving and just on the wrong side of desperate, and the air in Dream’s lungs freezes into a solid block of ice in the middle of his chest, “you- you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Punz?”

Dream’s voice comes out small, himself shrinking back into the bed, keenly aware, suddenly, of how there is nowhere he can go to run - Punz doesn’t seem to notice that he’s spoken at all, one of his hands moving up to tug through his hair, which is - now that Dream is looking - fluffier and messier than he remembers, sticking up in all directions like they didn’t bother to smooth it down.

“You think this is fine? You think that because you didn’t fucking die, that this is all okay?” Punz’s voice rises in volume slowly, not loud enough to be a shout but enough to go hard and unyielding like a threat, and with each word every remnant of the vault comes crawling, clawing back up to the front of his head, a pounding reminder to play his role, put on a show, behave behave behave-

“Goddammit, Dream,” Punz startles him out of his own thoughts, looking straight into his eyes with their ice-blue ones, “have you seen yourself?”

Have you seen yourself? Lying down in your own goddamn filth like a fucking mutt- prime, you disgust me.

“Your ribs were basically shattered. Your legs had fractures on both sides, and your back was so fucking torn up that it looked like more blood than skin. You’ve been starved- enough for me to see every goddamn bone in your body, it feels like. Your throat was bruised to hell- I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be able to speak again, fuck, and like a day after we got here you got fucking pneumonia.” Punz’s breath hitches, “Your skin was a literal fucking oven- I thought you’d bake yourself from the inside out. You could’ve died- you should’ve died.”

You should’ve died a hell of a long time ago, pal- should’ve saved us all the fucking trouble and offed yourself like Wilbur fucking Soot.

He flinches, and this, Punz seems to notice, eyes widening a fraction before they pitch their voce lower, clearly taking a few breaths to calm down and reaching forward to take one of Dream’s hands loosely in his own, thumb smoothing over the bumps of his knuckles.

“You’re not fine,” he says after a long while, shaking his head. “Hell- I’m not fine. But we’re not doing anything like- like the vault or the prison again, dude. I told you they were shit ideas- fuck. We never should’ve done that.”

“It was worth it,” Dream butts in, because he can’t imagine a world where it wasn’t, can’t imagine a world where all of that was for nothing, “it was worth it-”

“No it fucking wasn’t, are you out of your mind?” Punz replies immediately, voice overlapping over Dream’s own, “have you listened to a single thing I’ve said? You- look at you! How was that worth it?”

Dream shakes his head stubbornly, already feeling the way his jaw is trembling around the words he forces himself to speak. “The server- it was all for the server-”

“Fuck the server!”

Punz seems startled by their own shout, drawing back at the same time Dream does, breathing ragged. He takes a few seconds to compose himself, bringing his hand to his face as Dream sits stock still, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe.

“Fuck the fucking server, okay?” Punz says, finally, voice cracking in the middle, “You lost two damn lives for this server. You got fucking tortured for fucking months for this shitstain of a server. Just- fuck them. I’m not watching you tear yourself to fucking shreds for this- not again. I can’t sit around and watch you fucking die again, Dream, I can’t drag you out bleeding out in my fucking arms again- fuck-” Punz shakes their head, and oh. They’re crying.

“No more. Fuck the server. I’m done, Dream- we’re done with them.”

Dream blinks, so thoroughly surprised that he thinks the shock knocked him straight out of the building panic attack, leaving nothing but a slight thrumming of anxiety still simmering beneath his skin. Almost instinctually, in a motion he doesn’t really remember but still has the muscle memory for, he opens his arms- and in a similar, near-unconscious response, Punz tumbles into his arms.

He blinks, not moving his arms to curl around the other, feeling the weight of another person against his again and the sound of their breathing and relearning them both. This is- new, for both of them. Dream was never emotional, not before the prison, not that he wanted to be after it either- but Quackity always had a particular affinity for tearing him apart, shard by shard. And Punz- he’d never been like this, even back in the day, when things were easier and they didn’t bear the constant burden of netherite against their backs. They’d always been stoic, sharp, sarcastic, cool and dry in a way that chafed against Sapnap’s fire and always led to Dream laughing at them sooner or later. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, feeling the heat behind his eyes finally sear too hot and boil over, tears squeezing through his closed eyes and falling down his face.

“Okay,” he says, finally, and there’s nothing easy about the acquiescence, not when he had poured blood and sweat and the better half of himself into this place, salted the earth with his tears until no more would come and nothing else would grow. He thinks that he will have more to think and more to say and more to protest come the next days, that the binds between him and his goals have been weaved too deep with the fibers of his soul for him to tear them free without sacrificing what broken pieces of himself he has left, but all he can think right now is how fucking tired he is. He remembers Techno’s voice, going through myth after myth to pass time in the prison, and thinks with something like humor and something like grief - let someone else be Atlas for a day. The sky is too heavy right now. Punz’s arms tighten around his body, enough to remind him that they’re there but not enough to press at his still-healing ribs, and he thinks that they might understand. “Okay.”

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uuujeewriting · 3 years

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may I request HCs for Albedo, Childe, Kaeya, Diluc and Xiao realizing their fem!darling is a yandere? like how would they feel and react?? ( i hope u don't make it too angst :(( ) - if u don't feel comfortable wrting this, i am deeply apologize, feel free to ignore this :<

stop it [albedo, childe, kaeya, diluc, xiao]

they find out their darling is a yandere! how will they fight to fix them?

tw: UNHEALTHY/TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, gore, violence, cuss words, manipulative behavior, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder

albedo x fem! reader, childe x fem! reader, kaeya x fem! reader, diluc x fem! reader, xiao x fem! reader

a/n: just a note that this behavior should not be romanticized and should not be followed! i believe that the boys would not condone this behavior either. sorry that this took a while nonnie! hope this is to your liking.

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

not proof read

albedo

it came to him when he started picking up on your possessive behavior

he first found it quite unusual, how defensive you were when people–even his own students–pointed out how much you hogged the man to yourself

it was no secret you loved him, albeit maybe you did a little too much

for the first few days of this repetitive behavior of yours, he didn’t seem to take it too seriously, he even indulges your fantasies when he found the time to do so

calling him yours alone and how everyone wouldn't matter, just as his queen said

how foolish of him to feed into this obsessive mindset of yours, he now knows

the kreideprinz was a fearless man, never submitting even to the most nerve-wracking of consequences

you should earn an award for making him tremble

face to face with your gruesome figure, albedo hesitates to move

finally, you break the tension

“what’s wrong, my love? is something bothering you?” you ask, taking a step forward

“stay back. don’t you dare touch me- i-..” he grows speechless

you slowly retreated to your space, pouting

“is it this corpse? i’m sorry, but she was getting in the way! always asking about your whereabouts and such, truly a burden-”

“sucrose was my assistant! why the hell wouldn’t she ask about me?!” his heart rate quickened, the blond has never experienced this much terror in his life

you grew silent, taking in the chief alchemist’s words

he feels his heart drop to his feet when he sees you smile slowly

“well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, hm?” you hug albedo after throwing the bat you used to bash open your victim’s skull, tainted with putrid crimson

you laugh and bury your head in his chest but you notice droplets of water falling to your scalp

you look up at your quivering love and he stares back at you

“i’ll fix you, i’ll do whatever it takes to change those despicable temptations of yours and i’ll get you back, y/n.”

childe

childe was naturally clingy, never letting you out of his sight for more than two minutes. as a result, he didn't pick up on the subtle signs of your toxic behavior

what made him question this was your unreasonably foul attitude towards his family

one night, you and him visited his siblings in snezhnaya to have dinner

he was jubilant to say the least, the love of his life will finaly get the chance to meet the people he loved just as much as her!

"why are you so excited to see your siblings?" your question left him dumbfounded

did you not want to see them?

"well, y/n my dear, if there was anything i loved nore than you; it would be my beloved family!" he chuckles

when you reach his house, he's so excited that he misses how your eyes darken when he knocks at the door

"big brother! you're here!" teucer jumps in joy and hugs his sibling, the brother in question hugs back lovingly

how you hated it, make it end already

"teucer! i've missed you, too. how are sister tonia and the others?" childe smiles

was your presence suddenly not the most important thing anymore to him?

oh no, you're not going to let this happen

you cough and childe looks back at you, apologizing

"sorry, babe. come inside, i'll introduce you to the others." he takes your hand and guides you indoors to the living room

at the sight of their dear big brother, the group of siblings raced and laced their arms around him one way or another

childe laughs and attempts to stretch to hug all of then at the same time, only being able to circle two of his siblings

you felt inadequate again, damn siblings.

as childe introduces you to his family as his girlfriend, you didn't bother to mask your dislike for them

this concerns your beloved to the highest caliber

dinner rolls around and uncharacteristically, you offer to help out with preparing the food

childe was reluctant but overall, he couldn't deny a chance for you to finally change your views on atleast one of his siblings

"thank you for allowing me to help, tonia." you smile, feigningly to clarify

"it's no problem, i should be thanking you for insisting." she laughs and leaves the food on the counter to grab a condiment placed on the opposite side of the kitchen

quickly and silently, you scan the premises for what you needed

you find a container of rubbing alcohol in a compartment

grinning, you took it and spilled half the container into the water jug to be served

discarding of the half-empty bottle and putting the jug's lid back on, tonia returns and continues preparing the food

perfect.

when the food and tampered water was served, you replaced childe's glass of water swiftly

one of the siblings drinks the water and after a few minutes, he excuses himself while coughing

tonia was next and then teucer, childe was going insane and growing more and more concerned

finally having enough, he checks the food and once he smells the strong scent of alcohol in the jug of water, his eyes widen

he turns to you, his heart sinking at your triumphant expression

"y/n, how could you?!" he furrows his eyebrows, what happened to his beloved?

"they were taking you away from me. what was i supposed to do?" you raise an eyebrow

he clenches his fist. when he hears his siblings suffering, he heaves heavily

"we'll talk about this later and i swear to the gods i will change your attitude."

kaeya

kaeya is perceptive, he may have picked up on your despicable views earlier than the rest

how? don't question, it's his responsibility to take care of you

he does nothing at first, finding your obsessive behavior harmless at the present time

however, he draws the line after one particular event

"haha, well- if it weren't for how you sneaked through headquarter grounds, i wouldn't have had to waste my time tracking you down." he peers sarcastically at rosaria, he latter scoffing

"it's none of my business what you find suspicious." she sips on the wine she was holding

kaeya lets out a 'tch' and looks away, clearly upset

he arrives home to you cooking supper, his arms snaking around your waist

you smile, "bad day?" you ask, you know how he gets when he's dim and gloomy

"not particularly, but just had some trouble with sister rosaria."

what?

"what about her?" your grip on the ladle tightens

"nothing, it's really not a big deal." he palms your hand, kissing your neck

"oh, alright. if you say so, love." you state, but he should've watched what he says

you had your mind set and there was no stopping you

around 2-3 am you sneaked out of your shared home with the captain.

grabbing a cloak and satchel which incased your belongings, you head out into the streets

'where could that damn nun be at this time of night?'

you ponder for a good few minutes until-

bingo; clearing camps.

sneaking past the knights is rather easy, distract them with a rabbit and all is good

pulling the hood of the cloak lower to hide your face, you speed into the wilderness in search of rosaria

you find the preoccupied nun vanquishing a camp of hilichurls around the whispering woods, too busy to notice your presence

opening your satchel, you take your mask and secure it to your face

time to go through with the plan you'd devised.

"huh-?" rosaria hadn't reacted fast enough and you managed to tackle her to the ground after the last hilichurl was disposed of

she chokes on your hold and attempts to shove you off, only for her attempt to whiff

grabbing the polearm she had in her dominant hand, you twirl it and use it to replace your hand on her throat, choking her with ger own weapon

"w-who in t-the world..?" rosaria glares and struggles to keep herself conscious

you smirked, putting more pressure on the polearm

she grows more and more panicked, you bask in her expression of utter helplessness

she should have known better than to mess with you

to mess with kaeya

this is what she gets

you are going to have your way

yes, almost there-

"not quite, fiend."

suddenly, you get pulled back by the hood and you gasp in shock

rosaria recovers quickly and stands up, snatching back her weapon from your distracted figure

"though i hate to admit it, you sure can be a helpful comrade, cavalry captain." the nun scoffs

your blood went cold

"now who in the seven nations might this rodent be?" kaeya frowns, you attempt to struggle from his grip but to no avail

he takes off your disguise and you purse your lips

"..y/n?" rosaria questions, much more confused than your lover

"i had a feeling." kaeya remarks, surprising both you and the nun

"kaeya, you understand right? she upset you, she made you go through all that work just for you to find out it was some shady bitch roaming around the fucking city!" the two wince at your vulgar language, clearly not having any of it

"what's done is done." rosaria states and goes ahead to return to mond

kaeya lets you go and crosses his arms, disappointed in you

"you should know better, y/n. i'll have you know that although i love you dearly, this behavior of yours is not what i want from you." he reprimands you and you furrow your brows

"it's just me showing my love for you, i don't see what's wrong."

your statement makes the knight sigh

this is going to be a long night for the both of you

diluc

diluc wouldn't be too busy to spend time with you, but he'd be too busy to take notice of your toxicity

you lived in the manor, because of this, you had access to everything in the site

and when i say everything, i mean everything

yes, he trusted you too much and that's his downfall

not his, but rather a maid's

you were aware of his darknight hero duties and he made sure that you did, kissing you goodbye before leaving to rinse the land of roaming dangers

one night in particular, a certain head maid had made you quite envious

offering diluc a glass of grape juice, fixing his collar before he goes on about his daily stroll, even daring to clean his shared bedroom with you! my, how audacious she is.

after giving you a tender kiss, your lover heads out into the night and leaves you with the maids, giving you the opportunity to continue on your devious ways

calling adelinde into the garden, she comes along with the items you requested

two towels, a fork and a plate

of course she questioned it but who was she to deny her master's sweetheart?

with shaking limbs, she made her way towards the garden

"ah, finally. you're here," you make your way towards adelinde and she gulps

"i-i have the items you requested, miss y/n," she hands you the three objects that will serve a huge purpose tonight

"thank you," you smile at her as she attempts to smile and bow respectfully

"if that is all, i shall take my leave." she retreats into the manor

or atleast, she thoughts she was going to

quickly, you roll the towel and gag adelinde with it, tying the towel together and stabbing it to her nape with the fork with brute force

she screams for a split second and you smile, quickly bashing her head with the plate.

looking down at your doing, you grin impossibly wide

"miss y/n, why couldn't you have simply knocked her out first as to avoid her creating a rather loud shriek?" elzer sighed

"i wanted to hear her in agony, is that odd?" you raise an eyebrow at the chairman

he shakes his head, "no, not at all, master."

the next day, diluc is faced with a rather odd feeling of dread

as he finds adelinde, ironically, nowhere to be found, he immediately asks elzer which in turn is sworn to secrecy by you

it completely drove him mad, and you tried to take his mind off the maid yet he only pushed you aside

this angered you to the core

"what–is that maid more important than me now, after all this work i've done for you?!" you yelled at him and he huffs in annoyance

"what do you mean work?!" he yells back

"what could you have possibly done for me-" "i got rid of that bitch!"

he freezes, what did you just say?

you, there's no way. you aren't serious right? he must've misheard you, there's no fucking possibility that his head maid was de-

"she's gone. i made sure of it."

diluc feels a boiling sensation in his stomach and he takes your wrist to drag you to the outside of his office

"y/n, you better tell me where she is or i swear to barbatos i'm going to-"

he stops himself. what was he going to do? the same thing you had just done?

you smile at his realization, circling him

"see? you were just about to be hypocritical there, love." you chuckle

diluc gritted his teeth and steadies himself

he's going to teach you a lesson one way or another, but never in his life will he come to commit the crime you'd done

xiao

the adeptus neither cared nor disliked the things you do for him, however, when you stepped out of line one day, he began to watch over you like a hawk

it was when the traveler, lumine, visited your adeptus lover

you were excited to see xiao, you had two plates of almond tofu in hand and was stepping up the staira to the balcony

you hummed a little tune to yourself

"first hilichurl got sick, second hilichurl took care, third hilichurl gathers medicine, fourth hilichurl prepares-"

you halt your singing when you hear laughter

laughter from a woman, huffs from a man

an adeptus

your adeptus

"xiao, thanks for meeting up with me today, i really appreciate it." lumine smiles at the yaksha, "we would've been at a loss if it weren't for you."

frowning, you step back and watch them from behind the opening of the balcony

"i am in no need of your reassurance, puny mortal. it was a necessity for rex lapis' sake, do not take it any other way." he says, although the flush of his face was an obvious indicator that he also cared for his friend

"yeah, whatever you say xiao." paimon laughed and lumine soon after

fuck. you felt something break on your foot.

xiao and the traveler snapped their heads to your direction–

only to find nothing there

"i'll go check on it," lumine offers and xiao simply nods, finishing the tofu she brought for him

the blonde traveller walks to the scene and sees a plate of almond tofu in bits and pieces

"eh?... what's all this?" she questions

she crouches down to observe the scene

her fault.

"AH-!" lumine tumbles down the stairs with you on top of her

not giving her time to react, you punch her in the face repeatedly

"don't-" smack in the face

"try-" punch up her chin

"to-" bash her head on the floor

"take-" punch to the left

"him!" punch to the right

verr goldet and paimon cries for you to stop, the former prying you off the bruised blonde

xiao hears the commotion and sees the traveller's nose bleeding and your figure heaving on the ground, fists clenched

if verr goldet hadn't pulled you away, you would've killed the girl

xiao huffs and shakes visibly

"what is all this?" he angrily mumbles, "care to explain yourself, y/n?"

"xiao-" you begin to cry, "why would you spend time with her? i'm hurt of course!"

"you intend to tell me you're the only one i can talk to?" he raises his tone

"yes!" you whimper

unbelievable

"..verr goldet, bring the traveller to a healer, y/n, come with me." he holds a stoic expression

he was beyond angry

following him to the balcony, he keeps a distance from you, about three steps away.

finally coming to a stop, he faces you.

"i don't know what got onto you, but we're going to solve this," he crosses his arms, "right here, right now."

134 notes · View notes

ravennm84 · 4 years

Text

The Laptop

So, I read a prompt from @charming-mage about Lila’s laptop being damaged and her mother finds out that Lila’s been lying to her and the school. I thought it was a cute idea and the girl would have no way of trying to turn things onto Marinette, so I went with it. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

It was a silly little accident that ended up exposing everything. Lila had accidentally spilt coffee on her laptop and caused it to short out. Her mother, being terrible with technology, had taken it to a repair shop to see if it could be saved.

Greta Rossi had taken her lunch break and gone to the repair shop to check on the state of the laptop. The woman behind the counter, Evelyn, gave her head a shake, saying there was too much corrosion and the damage to the motherboard. “Best I can tell, you didn’t unplug it, take out the battery, or tilt it to let the liquid drain out away from the main components. That was pretty much a death sentence to this thing.”

Greta groaned at that. It would be expensive to buy her daughter a new laptop, but it was necessary so she could do her homework and communicate with her friends when akuma attacks were so bad that the school shut down. “Were you able to save anything?” She asked the woman.

“Some things,” she nodded, handing Greta a flashdrive. “Mostly your photos, some saved documents, I also noticed that you were emailing your daughter’s school when the laptop was damaged. I was able to save that conversation for you.”

Her hand froze as she stared at the woman. “Are you sure? I only ask because that wasn’t my laptop, that was my daughter’s laptop.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. “It was the first thing I was able to recover since it was mid-correspondence. I assumed it was your laptop since the emails were addressed to you and were signed by you. If that’s not the case… I think you should probably read those emails and talk to your daughter’s principal as soon as possible.”

A little uncertain of what the woman just told her, Greta called the Embassy to tell them she would be taking the rest of the day off. Going home, she plugged in the flashdrive and started looking over the emails that Evelyn had mentioned. Sure enough, they were between Principal Damocles and supposedly signed by her. The first emails were dated the day Lila had told her the school was closed due to akuma attacks, only the email said that she was pulling Lila out of school to go on a diplomatic trip to Achu.

A little taken aback, Greta looked up the akuma incidents to see just how bad things were. She normally wasn’t permitted to look up these kinds of things at work, nor did she ever have the time since she had to make sure the Ambassador’s days were scheduled down to the minute and all the paperwork was ready to be signed. But now that she had a moment to look, she could see videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating every akuma… and two of the akumas had been her own daughter! This meant that Lila had been lying to her for months!

The next email was from the day of the Scarlet Moth incident, she remembered her co-workers talking about it. That email to Damocles said that her number had changed and gave a new number, which just happened to be Lila’s number.

Another email requesting doctors notes for Lila’s numerous injuries and disabilities: tinnitus, a sprained wrist, a dislocated kneecap, and tonsolatius. Lila had responded with photocopied doctors’ notes that even Greta could tell were fake, and the principal had responded with gratitude for the prompt response.

Some of the more recent emails spoke about Lila being pushed down the stairs by another student and how a family heirloom had been stolen by the same student! Only to be followed by another email requesting another doctor’s note referencing a disease Lila claimed to have that makes her lie uncontrollably. Was the principal a total idiot?

The most recent email, the one Lila had been working on when the laptop was destroyed, stopped mid-sentence as Greta Rossi told Damocles that she and Lila would be going on another extended diplomatic trip to London, as she would be working personally with the Queen of England. If Greta hadn’t been furious at her daughter before, she sure was now.

Still, part of her wanted to have some faith in her daughter, so she would set up a test when Lila got home. Which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be long as she had spent a good few hours reading over the emails and she had finally looked into akuma reports that had occurred since they had moved to Paris.

Lila came home about half an hour later, texting on her phone with a cruel smile, but abruptly stopped when she saw her mother. “Mama, you’re home early. Is it because of the akuma attacks?”

“No, mia bella. I was just given the afternoon off, so I decided to spend it with you. How was school?”

Watching her daughter carefully, she saw her change in posture and expression as she began to do the same fake crying she did when she was 6 years old. “Oh Mama, it was terrible. The school got attacked by another akuma and Chat Noir was just so reckless, his Cataclysm destroyed half of the school. It got closed down until repairs can be completed again.”

“Mia Bella! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Greta asked, faking shock and worry. She suspected that Lila had completed the email on her tablet or a computer at school and sent it to Damocles. Now, her daughter was trying to make an excuse as to why she was staying home. But Greta wasn’t about to be fooled again. Oh no, she had given her daughter a chance and now she was going to make her pay. “That’s it, I can’t allow you to keep attending such a dangerous place.”

Lila stopped mid-sob to look at her mother in surprise. “W-what are you saying?”

“Lila, from what you’ve told me about Hawkmoth, the akuma’s, and those terrible vigilanties; I can’t force you to stay in such a dangerous place due to my job. Go to your room and pack, I’ll call your Zio e Zia in Italia and ask if they can take you in while I finish my assignment here in Paris.” Greta continued to watch her daughter as she spoke, her expression becoming more and more panicked and upset as she spoke. Lila had never liked staying with her uncle and aunt because they lived on a farm that was far from everything, had no internet or cell service, and Greta’s brother was of the mindset that if you didn’t work on the farm, you didn’t eat.

“Bu-but Mama, you can’t just send me away like this! What about school-”

“You just told me that the school was shut down again due to the attacks, and after all the other times the school has been closed, I doubt if you’ll be able to graduate with the other schools or even be accepted into lycee at this point. At least if I send you back to Italia, you’ll be safe and be able to go to school without worrying about being attacked.” Reaching forward, Greta took Lila’s hands firmly between her own. “Please understand, mia bella, I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Even if you’re upset with me, I must do what is best for you and your future.”

Lila didn’t bother hiding her scowl as she tried to tug her hands from her mother’s grip. Then the girl really looked at her mother’s face and realized something was wrong. “Mama?”

Greta returned her scowl. “I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I was giving you a chance to come clean and tell me the truth.” Lila’s eyes blew wide open and was about to say something, but was cut off. “I saw those emails between myself and M. Damocles on your computer. Funny thing, I don’t remember writing them. I also don’t recall changing my contact number, going on a diplomatic trip to Achu, or telling him about a bunch of injuries, disabilities, and diseases that you don’t have. I also don’t remember my bosses assigning me to go on another diplomatic trip to London to work with the Queen of England, seeing as I’m not an ambassador.”

“Wait, Mama! I swear, I can explain-”

“You’ve already said enough! You and I are going to the school right now to speak with M. Damocles. You are going to tell him everything that you’ve been lying about and I’m going to have a talk with him about your supposed fall down the stairs since I’m pretty sure you lied about that as well since I was never notified and you were never taken to the hospital.”

“No, Mama! Please-”

“Be quiet! If you dare try to fight me on this or say one more lie, you will be on a plane back to Italia tonight and spend the rest of your school career with your Zio e Zia, understand?

Pouting the entire time. Lila went back to the school with her mother and was forced to confess to everything she had lied about. M. Damocles also ended up looking at the CCTV footage, something that Greta thought he should have done in the first place, and showed that her daughter had not been pushed down the stairs and had planted the not-family-heirloom in the other student’s locker. Greta demanded that he tell Lila’s class exactly what her daughter had done and that he apologize to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng for getting her expelled. She also demanded the student’s information so she could speak with the girl’s parents and force Lila to apologize. Damocles, still thinking that Greta was an ambassador, told her about the bakery and promised that he would alert the class to Lila’s misdeeds before the two Rossis were out the door.

Greta thought the Dupain-Chengs were wonderful people, offering them pastries as soon as they were upstairs and listened intently to her when she described the things that her daughter had been lying about. When she asked Marinette for her side of the story, Greta got even angrier at Lila. Threatening, bullying, and framing that poor girl when all Marinette had done was tell Lila to stop lying to her friends. Not only had she been lying to the school and her classmates, but all of Paris, if she were to go by the posts on the Ladyblog that Marinette showed her. She had never been more disappointed in her daughter.

Once they got home, Greta forced Lila into her room and confiscated her phone and tablet. “I thought it was bad when you were lying to the school and playing truant, but now I find out that you are being a bully, and tempting a terrorist to attack you! How foolish are you?”

“Why are you believing that goodie-two-shoes ove-”

“I believe her because there is literally video evidence of you setting her up and trying to get her expelled! After what you’ve done, you’ll probably get expelled!”

“What!? But I didn’t do-”

“You bullied a student, committed months of truancy, forged signatures on doctors’ notes, and changed my contact information so the school couldn’t contact me. Any one of those are grounds for expulsion!” Greta shook her head in disgust when she saw the shock on her daughter’s face. Lila actually believed that she wouldn’t be punished for all the things she had done. Well, that was not something that she was going to allow, and she didn’t trust the principal or Lila’s teacher to do the right thing by her daughter anymore. “You know what, pack your bags right now. I’m calling my brother and putting you on a plane tonight. It’s clear that you need to learn some responsibility, and I highly doubt that you’re going to do that here.”

Lila tried to argue with her, but no amount of begging, pleading, or threats was going to change her mind. Lila was on a plane back to Italy within a few hours and Greta would be spending the next month cleaning up the mess her daughter had made in Paris. She was fortunate that she was able to keep her job. Luckily for her, her boss was a big fan of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and she had told him when she had brought in a big box of the pastries. That smoothed things over a bit, although she was no longer permitted to bring her daughter on assignments anymore. Greta considered that a small price to pay to keep her job, and maybe her daughter would learn that her actions have lasting consequences.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @bayball @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @seesea22 @seraphichana @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila salt #ml prompt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #mlbjustice

784 notes · View notes

izusun · 3 years

Note

ALRIGHT I'M THE ANON WHO SENT THE STRIPPER AU SO IM DUMPING ANOTHER AU THAT I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH ONTO YOU (don't ask where it came from lmao)

Basically, quirkless Izuku gets a vibe check early in life when he realizes that his mom is really struggling to survive after his father walked out (no I'm not projecting onto him shut up-). Through middle school he slowly comes to the realization that capitalism sucks actually, especially when you are or are related to someone quirkless.

The sludge villain incident happens relatively as normal, only this time after rescuing Katsuki he fucking snaps at the pro heroes on the scene, then goes home without running into All Might. He does a bunch of research on pro hero scandals, losing that hero fanboy mindset as he goes along, but also does research into vigilantism and pre quirk media, discovering an ancient European pre quirk tale about a figure who robbed the rich and gave it back to the poor and needy.

Now he's on the streets as the vigilante "Robin Hood" who robs corrupt heroes and politicians and then uses that money to preventatively stop crime (donating to homeless shelters, giving it to various community centers for addict recovery programs, etc; he'd also stop any crime he happened to come by on the way to and from heists). He may or may not collect various other teenagers in his band of Merry Men all while Izuku dodges around telling Katsuki what he actually does all day (yes Kaachan's the Maid Marian stand in fight me).

TLDR; Quirkless Izuku becomes the vigilante "Robin Hood" thanks for coming to my TED talk-

- Goblin anon (I'm claiming it now, it's mine)

HI GOBLIN ANON!!! your au dumps in my ask box are always welcomed and loved!! sorry for the late reply hnsnsns, my lectures just ended

quirkless + vigilante midoriya who gave up on the hero system IS my fave trope, i’m not even joking. and this au??? this is just godtier!!

i have a thing for midoriya snapping at the heroes during the sludge villain incident. to set up the mood, i’d like to just unpack that scene for a bit.

ok sure there are many things that probably happened behind the scenes during that incident, such as them calling for more equipped reinforcements to take down the villain, but i think that they should have also done more for bakugou. like at least buy time to ensure he wouldn’t suffocate or, idk, strike a deal with the the sludge villain because their priority shouldn’t have been apprehending him but should have been saving bakugou. so imagine midoriya thinking the same thing i did. the torch he carried for heroes have dwindled over time and this was the breaking point.

imagine him growing up, accepting that sometimes the society just turns its back on you because you’re quirkless. imagine him thinking that there are certain thresholds only the quirked individuals would ever get to cross. imagine him thinking that being a hero really is only for bakugou and not for him. then-

then midoriya sees this powerful and strong individual who he kept looking up to at the hands of the same villain who also almost killed him, choking and panicking because the heroes are not doing anything. he thought that heroes only do nothing when you’re quirkless, but apparently they also do nothing to people like bakugou. bakugou who has a perfect quirk and a smart mind and who’s so so young. bakugou who the heroes aren’t even helping.

and midoriya snaps. he snaps because heroes do nothing to everyone. he thought he was the anomaly because of his pinky toe and everything, but no. the hero system is just fucked up. so as he ran towards bakugou and hurled his bag on the eyes of the villain, he thinks the hero system failed us but i will not. and he thinks i will not be a hero because i do not want to be like them. and he thinks i am here.

and so he saves bakugou and the heroes berate him for-? for what? for doing their jobs? he laughs maniacally and goes off. he spills his anger, spills the way it took a puny, quirkless middle school boy to save the day, and people are watching. people are watching the way he is screaming and opening his heart and pouring and pouring everything he never would have said, and the heroes are silent. they are silent as they listened. all of the them were.

people filmed this exchange, posted the videos they took online and then even more people listened to him. and midoriya sees this huge response and support; he sees the way people agreed with him so it helped him push his plans forward.

and so he does many many research and opens up several cases against slimy heroes and billionaires, and boom, he’s japan’s robin hood.

OK BUT we can’t have vigilante midoriya without dadzawa. LOVE ME SOME DADZAWA. and maybe parental tsukauchi because i love these two just trying to help this little vigilante who is too angry at the world who failed him, but never fighting the world back. they care for their little vigilante who shouldn’t be awake at the crack of dawn, busting out villain groups upon villain groups on his own. they care for their little vigilante who is becoming too popular.

so popular that even villains are looking for him. and maybe there would be an altercation between the LoV and midoriya, and who else would save him if not for dadzawa (and tsukauchi)?

also i’d like to imagine that bakugou too was moved by midoriya’s explosion of a speech. he’s taken aback and goes “huh, he’s right.” so he tries bridging their relationship back and midoriya always loved his friend so he accepts AS LONG AS bakugou does not cross him. because even if the hero system failed midoriya, as long as bakugou, who’s willing to change, still wants to become a hero, then there is hope in changing the hero system from the inside. to reshape it to how it should be.

and so bakugou enters UA and is more open (he’s in therapy) to everyone compared to canon (although not as much, still), and almost has a heart attack when aizawa pulled him aside one day, in the middle of the term, and asked if he knew who robin hood is. of course bakugou’s a master liar so he says no but aizawa is squinting his eyes at him.

also imagine: midoriya recruiting shinsou (they’re apparently from the same help group and they met up one night when midoriya saved shinsou from middle school bullies who cornered him and berated him even if he’s already in UA) and bakugou accidentally recruiting hatsume because she saw that someone changed some of his hero gear and she wanted to meet the smart genius who did it (it’s midoriya).

so midoriya’s circle grew from bakugou to now with the addition of aizawa, tsukauchi, hatsume, and shinsou.

(it probably would expand more because midoriya would stumble on this juicy information about the number 02 hero, endeavour but that’s for next time!)

AHHH ok i’m gonna cut it here because it’s getting too long BUT I LOVE LOVE THIS dhaksjwk

THANK YOU SO MUCH, GOBLIN!!!

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thisdreamplace · 3 years

Note

ashamed to say the 3D reflects our true inner reality, yes? my ENTIRE family has turned against me, after some atrocious conflicts in which they all ganged up on me nd judged me, name-calling, very hurtful things too, provoked me. i been dealing with some serious mental uh 'issues' on my own nd when this happend i was already on the verge of a breakdown nd the good news is while the conflict happened i kept telling myself theyre only reflecting me u can get thru it etc. Later i looked at the hard facts nd realised some of the hurtful things they said were my deep secret feelings abt myself. BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people? confronting one person vs whole family, why?! i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?

Part 2 is simply its been a week and theyve still been cold towards me as if I yelled AT THEM ABT THEIR PAINFUL 'tRuThS' in front of EVERYONE LMAOOO. At first if i was around we'd have dinner together while they'd all talk to each other like best friends aka sickeningly overly friendly while completely IGNORING me while i sat there. i could tolerate it. I WAS PISSED AT THEM TOO Now its too painful. They're having dinner without telling me, yesterday didnt leave enough food for me knowing i hadnt eaten, serve tea/snacks without my portion. i honestly feel so unspeakably trigered nd sad. worst is these things r reminding me of deep school memories when id feel excluded like this by other kids at parties or class activities nd its like im back there. anyway im glad i controled myself a bit nd didnt counter with horrid things abt them to THEM yet they think they can say the same to me. im so hurt rn i cant even tell u lol i was okay the whole week but now its too much,, ive been crying the whole day

thing is, ik this seems like 'im a victim oh noooo they ganged up on meee'. Nope its more like how do i change myself to change them?! u could say why not talk to them how they made u feel, except whenever ive defended myself in the past regarding hurtful things they/anyone in family did, the siblings/parents would say irritating things like: "oh so YOU'RE the one hurt? Oh thats right, its because YOU'RE right! yes, yes, you're always right. Forgive me for saying anything against the perfect person u are." Or one of them says: "You?! I hurt YOU? What about me? You don't care about me! So you think what ur doing is okay?" or "no, who do YOU think u are to tell ME what to do?" it just goes in circles like this! i dont deserve to hurt myself or do smth to myself even if they dont give a damn, even if years of silent suffering of the 'mEntAL pRoBlEms' (which my lovely parents have already told me is my fault years ago, hence why I NEVER show it to them, unless im crying too much then lol they just mock me, but idc abt THAT bcoz now ik i hav a right to let out my emotions)). i mean this is worse rjan usual. its kinda insane nd when guests come they start talking to me as if nothing's wrong then when they leave, they ignore me!

this whole twisted dynamics, feelijf left out nd helpless is ig some crazy assumptin from childhood of being alone nd unable to defend myself. plus when they argye with anyone, they become overly self-righteous nd over the years its clear they can only scream, blame the scapegoat and never talk abt serious matter like normal ppl. And yes, in the past when i bring this up, they like to reply with stuff like: "no YOU'RE the one who doesnt talk to US bla bla" like, when i do u just shut me down? have belittled my mental 'issues', mocked me when im at my worst, stabbed me with cruel silent treatments nd thinking its alright "bcoz of self-righteousness blegh". Or maybe i think its okay for them to punish me? or whatev? Like law says u get what u r. if these ~~~ keep doing this to me, im doubly ashamed to say this means im the one at fault?! i let this monster assunptin grow nd now idk what to do. the worst thing imo is how i failed to tell them,even if they ignored me in the past, how i feel when anything like this or a conflict happens nd none of them stand up for me, or at least are neutral to me. bcoz now if i do, they say nope, u dont care what we do, YOUR the shameless one :! so yeah they hav the advantage of 'numbwrs' while im too afraid to stand up for myself lol. btw they never apologize nd i suspect they expect ME to apologize to TYEM bcoz everything's already ruined bcoz of 'me'..... i give up on them, i really do, but my heart hurts. Either i harden my heart, nd save up to move out, OR i try to change my self or whatev assumptins i have. But how do i do that? i try afirming: "my familys so nice to me, im respected by them" but it feels so fake tears literally enter my eyes lol

firstly i want to say, thank you for coming here to vent and being open about your feelings. it’s so important sometimes to just let it all out, without holding back. so that way you can move forward more bravely, to create the life you truly want to experience. that being said, i am going to be completely honest with you here in hopes that perhaps it may inspire you and you will be ready to do what is needed for the life you truly want to experience.

“BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people?” -> “i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?” here is your question, and here is your answer. i think that being completely honest when venting your feelings can actually be so helpful, because if you read back what you have said, you will be able to clearly find the patterns that are creating your personal hell. FEELING IS THE SECRET. ASSUMPTIONS HARDEN INTO FACT. the true way you feel, becomes your experience. Feelings/assumptions/beliefs come first, and the experiences come second to confirm them. That’s all that’s happening here.

i am glad that you were able to keep your reactions to a minimum! that's wonderful and as many of us know, it can sometimes be hard to do in such hurtful circumstances. but you managed to do it, this shows just a small glimpse of the power you truly hold within. although emotionally you may feel out of control, there is still the choice to choose better for yourself which you demonstrated through your reaction to them. good for you!

the truth is, you acknowledge the victim mindset to seem like you’re not engulfed in it, but no, you’re still very clearly engulfed in it. as i have said before, you can’t be a VICTOR and feel bad about it. feeling bad about taking responsibility, about everyone is you pushed out, about any of these types of concepts automatically shows a victim mindset. talking to them won’t do anything, because there are no second causes. you could talk to them nicely, you could be the nicest person in the world. but you can’t pretend your way out of your inner world. your inner world is the one and only cause of your experiences. until you change the story you tell yourself, they will stay the same. this is a hard pill to swallow sometimes. and it can feel heavily, because it’s ultimately only you’re choice. they can’t change until you do. the heaviness of the situation may make it seem impossible to turn around, but that’s just an illusion. your emotional attachment to the situation makes it seem so real and hard to change, but no. that’s just an illusion too. however, it’s ultimately your choice. Do you want to take responsibility for your life, or do you want to keep being tossed around like your lost at sea, victim to the merciless angry waves? Because we always have a choice. No one chooses your inner world, you do. No one can go into your mind and decide things for you, that’s only your job.

you can harden your heart, but who would be the one who suffers more? It won’t be your family, i can assure you. it’ll only be you. by doing that, you keep that old story alive and therefore you keep experiencing it. you keep those stories alive that are desperately showing themselves to you, saying “LET US GO.” but you remain identified with those painful stories, so you grip onto them tight. you keep on thinking of possible reasons for their behavior, but you could just read your entire ask back to yourself and you’ll see every reason. your reactions, your beliefs about them, your emotional pain. its your refusal to let those things go, and focus on what you truly want that keeps you in this state and keeps them in this state. sure it’s painful to face the responsibility at first, but it’s not a blame game. thinking its about blame is just a misunderstanding of the teachings. it’s not about they’re so perfect and you’re so not, so you have to change your ways. it’s about this is how life works here. this is about... you can ONLY ever experience self. whatever is going on within, will be reflected in your outer world. it’s about how they can’t change, UNTIL YOU DO. so instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you have to decide to give yourself the gift of a wonderful life because you have that power too. you stop deciding they can be in control of your experience, and you decide your experience yourself.

to change your assumptions, stop trying to affirm over them and actually face what’s keeping you from believing in your desires. yeah, it’s going to be painful and uncomfortable. but you need to face the pain that you’re running away from, so that it can finally be released. you have to realize, it only stayed true because you believed it to be true. and if you are to live a life free from that story, and experience a more desirable story, then you must let the pain go. give yourself love and grace as you work through it, and know that there is a more beautiful side of life that awaits for you to accept it in.

No One To Change But Self

There is Nothing to Forgive

How to Sit with Your Triggers

give yourself the time you need, it's not race. the love that you wish to experience exists, allow it in. 💖

#eiypo

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something-tofightfor · 4 years

Text

Seasons to Cycles / 1

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 9217

Rating: M (Mentions of drug use, sex with multiple partners, language)

Summary: A chance encounter brings someone new into your life. Is this the beginning of a serious change - and an important addition - or is it just chance?

Author’s Note: Well I am terrified to post this. Most of you know how important writing Logan CORRECTLY is to me, and so I’m really worried about this one, because it’s a very different take on him. There’s a lot that I have to say without directly saying it - but please, stick with me, and I PROMISE everything will be explained in good time.

I chose the “long chapter” route rather than breaking it up, because as I was editing, it didn’t make sense to end it sooner/the only cut point was at 3500 words, which would still have left a 7,000 second part.

Don’t be afraid to give me your honest opinions about this one... I want them, and I can take it.

This song sets the tone for the entire story. This is the mindset I’m writing Logan with. It’s not going to be pretty.

I figured I’d be able to get in and out before I went to see Jess, and now… You sighed, pushing your cart through the aisles of the grocery store and reaching around people to grab items from the shelves. Guess everyone else had the same thought. I should have just gone to Safeway. Groaning quietly, you sidestepped a woman and her child to get to the last aisle you needed - the flowers and cards. Gotta grab one for Jess, and then… But you stopped in your tracks at the sight of someone standing next to their cart in front of the card rack, taking up the majority of it. For real? Shifting on your feet, you leaned forward, eyeing the man’s back, and willing him to hurry. He’s taking up the…

But after nearly a full minute of the man standing still with his hands in his pockets, you decided to speak. I can’t stay here all night. “Excuse me.” The man still didn’t move, and you rolled your eyes as you cleared your throat. “Hey, you? In the dress shirt? Excuse me.” Finally, he turned his head toward you, and you again paused. Holy shit, what is someone that looks like that doing in here? “I know picking cards out is a pretty serious thing, but uh, you’re blocking the whole aisle.” Glancing into his cart, you raised an eyebrow. “And your ice cream’s going to melt.” His eyes going wide, the man turned further, looking down into his cart and swearing under his breath, one hand coming out of his pocket and raking through his hair - though the motion didn’t disrupt the styling. He looks familiar, but I don’t …

“Shit.” The man turned completely away from the shelf, reaching in to pick up the carton of ice cream, carefully inspecting it, even as his fingers pushed into the sides. “I didn’t even…” He set it down and then looked back at you, dark brown eyes fixed on your face. “I figured I’d pick one and be outta here, but it…” He shrugged. “Sorry, let me move the cart.” Before you could reply, the man was rolling it further down the aisle, where the only thing it could block was a spinning display of children’s books.

“Thank you.” Your cart out of the way too, you stepped closer to the shelf, crouching down and eyeing the birthday cards on the lower rows. The man stepped back next to you, still looking through the shelves, and after a few seconds, you looked up at him again, narrowing your eyes as you watched him reach for one and then draw his hand back. “Are you looking for something in particular? Wife? Girlfriend? Brother? S-”

“My housekeeper’s son broke his arm.” He sighed, pulling his left hand from his pocket and letting it hang next to his thigh. No ring. But that doesn’t mean… “So she had to cancel on me today, and probably for the rest of the week, so I’m here gettin’ my own groceries, and I thought I’d stop an’ take him some ice cream and a card on my way home.” Your lips parted at the explanation, and you shifted on your feet, hands resting on your bent knees. Maybe I should break my arm and see if someone that looks like him brings me a treat. “My sister broke her leg as a kid, and I remember all she did was eat ice cream an’ watch cartoons, so -”

“Well.” You stood, grinning at him. “You’re gonna want to get a fresh container, because that one you’ve already got looks a little sad.” He wrinkled his nose at your words but nodded, and you continued. “How old is he?” The man thought for a second and then shook his head. “Seven? Eight?” You watched his jaw work, noticing a small, thin scar high on his cheekbone. “I think he just had a birthday, but I …” You reached past the man, picking out a card with a chocolate chip cookie with a face on the front, a large, colorful bandaid affixed to the top of it’s head. “A cookie?” He sounded incredulous, but you just nodded, handing him the card and waiting for him to open it. “You’re one tough cookie… that’s so stupid, it…” But he was fighting back a laugh as he glanced over at you.

“It is stupid, but that’s the point. He’s a kid. It’ll make him laugh.” You shrugged. “And, it’s not that pseudo-inspirational bullshit that people always try to give people when they…” He laughed again and you stopped speaking, unsure of what was so funny. “Anyway,” you continued as he smiled at you, one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk that forced his cheek round. “It’s just a suggestion, but I -”

“Thank you.” The man nodded again and then looked away, reaching for an envelope, his long fingers plucking it from the shelf with ease. “I woulda stood here for another ten minutes, and probably picked out one of those… what’d you say? Pseudo-inspirational bullshit cards? Perfect for a kid, right? I have no idea what most of ‘em like.” Chuckling, you dropped down again, eyes moving over the cards in front of you and reading them quickly.

“Glad to help.” You grabbed a card too, flipping it open to read the inside and then straightening, noticing that the man was still waiting next to you. What is …

“I’m serious, thank you for the help.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he closed his eyes briefly for a second. “It’s probably pretty obvious that I don’t spend a lot of time in -”

“Hey, I’m not judging you.” You tucked your card into its envelope and pressed your lips together. “Like I said, picking out cards is a -”

“No, I…” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Logan.” Logan… you don’t hear that often. “You?” He’s asking me my name?

“Nice to meet you, Logan.” You stuck your hand out, smiling as you introduced yourself, Logan’s fingers sliding against yours and then against your palm before he shook it, grip firm. “Glad I could help you out.” He pulled his hand away first, but you felt one of his fingers curl slightly, the tip of his nail dragging slowly across your skin as he did so. Wh…

“And you.” Logan’s gaze moved away from you and toward the front of the store before his eyes drifted back to your face. “Guess I gotta go and replace that ice cream. Got any flavor suggestions for me?” Without a pause, you stared right back into Logan’s eyes and replied - straight faced.

“Cookie dough?” That time, neither of you could hold back your laughter, but after a few seconds, you took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “I’ve gotta go, Logan. I’m meeting a friend for her birthday tonight, and I want to get home before it gets too late. I hope your housekeeper’s son is doing alright, and I’m sure he’ll love the card… and the ice cream.”

“Yeah.” Logan chewed on the corner of his lip for a second and the nodded twice. “I bet he will.” He will. Definitely.

Without saying anything else, you turned back to your cart, fingers winding around the handlebar as you began to push it. Well that was a nice distraction. As you passed the end of the aisle, your eyes went wide. Shit, I still need… After a few more minutes of navigating your way through the other people in the store, you headed back toward the cashiers, staring at the contents of your cart and frowning. Hope I didn’t forget anything.

Joining a line of people waiting to check out, your eyes strayed to the rack of magazines near the register, both of them widening as you saw one of the covers. Is that… “Don’t believe everything you read.” Spinning toward the voice, you saw Logan standing behind you, both of his hands on his cart. “Those magazines are mostly bullshit.”

“Are you telling me that…” You paused, head tilted to the side. “You’re Logan Delos? VP of Delos Inc., and engaged to the -”

“That’s me.” He glanced at the magazine. Of course he’s engaged, why wouldn’t he be? “D’you think that’s a good picture of me?” Chuckling you clicked your tongue, still watching him.

“Your hair looks better in person.” You let out a breath, lowering your head. “I had no idea, Logan, that you were … of course you got the ice cream before the end of your shopping trip, you’re probably not used to…”

“Hey, I’m not helpless, here, I just … I work a lot, and …” Yeah, you work a ton, and … Your thoughts were reeling at the realization that the handsome man you’d helped pick out a card - the one that you’d joked with without thought - was Logan Delos, one of the world’s wealthiest and most eligible bachelors. But he’s not eligible anymore, not since… “Can you believe that I’m on the cover of that goddamn magazine? Just becausea…”

“When you’re engaged to the daughter of the UK’s …” You trailed off. “She’s big news, Logan. And so are you.” Of course he is. “At least now I know why you look familiar.” He winced at that, looking away. No, I didn’t … “I’ve seen you before, Logan. You - and Delos - do a bunch of charity and medical work, right? I’ve seen you on the news, on CNN, I just didn’t…” Tell him the truth. “Didn’t expect to run into you in the middle of the Thousand Oaks Whole Foods on a Wednesday.”

“You saw me on CNN?” Yeah, where else would I… “Well that’s a change.” He gestured forward. “You’re next.” Flustered, you began unloading your items onto the belt, trying to collect your thoughts. Logan Delos? And I … The cashier began scanning your groceries, and you smiled at her, moving your cart to the end of the lane and stepping in front of the credit card machine, digging through your purse. “Don’t worry about it.” Confused, you glanced back at Logan. “I got your stuff. Call it … a thank you for helpin’ me back there.”

“Logan, I can’t -” He shook his head, fighting back a grin. “You don’t need to…”

“I want to.” He shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “Like I said, I probably woulda still been’ standing there.” You let your wallet drop back to the bottom of your purse, finally nodding.

“I appreciate it, Logan.” And now I get to tell Jess that I … “Thank you.” He signaled to the cashier, who nodded once, going back to your items. “I’d, uh, say that maybe I’ll see you here again, but…” You lifted an eyebrow, watching him closely. “I’m sure I won’t, since this is a special circumstance.” He laughed at that, too, agreeing with you, and you were struck by how warm the sound was, the way his eyes lit up each time it happened. “Good luck, Logan.”

Your bags loaded back into your cart, you moved all the way to the end of the lane while Logan finished putting his own items - including the melted ice cream carton - onto the belt. “Yeah, I’ll need it.” Leaning over to reach one of the final things he’d chosen, he lifted his gaze, looking up at you through his lashes, one lock of hair barely out of place and falling at a different angle than the rest. Damn, he’s good looking. “Thank you.” You had a feeling that Logan’s sincere thank-yous were few and far between, and he’d said it to you multiple times in the span of a few minutes. At least I did something right.

“Of course.” You have to go, you’re taking up time and space here, and this isn’t… going anywhere. “Goodnight, Logan.” Offering him one final smile, you began pushing your cart toward the exit, still collecting your thoughts. What are the odds…

---

“Hey, Jess?” you were stretched out on your friend’s bed, socked feet resting on the wall above her pillows. “You know Logan Delos, right?” You were scrolling through your phone while your friend got dressed. “The -”

“The tech guy?” She yelled back to you, poking her head out of the bathroom door a few seconds later. “The hot one with the -”

“Yeah.” You read the page you were on, chewing on your lower lip. “I met him today.” He’s only been engaged for a few months, but they’ve … “I -”

‘“Where?” She was back in the room, hands up and next to one ear as she fastened an earring. “Today?” You turned your head toward her, nodding.

“Yeah, I had to stop and get your card, and when I was in Whole Foods, he was blocking the card aisle, so I gave him a hard time.” You darkened your screen as you spoke, sitting up and folding your legs beneath you. “Didn’t realize it was him at first, because I wasn’t expecting him, but I helped him pick out a card for his housekeeper’s kid, and then we ended up in the same checkout lane, and …”

“Wait a second.” She sat down on the edge of her bed, tilting her head to the side. “What was he doing all the way out here? I thought he lived in LA, that’s where he’s always going in and out of that -”

“You know more about him than I do, Jess. But I’m guessing he was on his way home from work or something, or he stopped on his way to the housekeeper’s, but…” Because I looked, and there’s a Delos office over this way, but … “He was alone, and even though he had a dress shirt on, he looked like he was trying to … I don’t know, blend in, and -”

“You don’t look like that and blend in.” She turned her own phone toward you,an image of Logan on the screen, dressed in a full suit and standing next to a stunning redhead in a tight black dress. “I mean look at him. Look at them, they’re going to have great looking kids, and ..” I’m sure they are. “But you met him? What was he like?” He was … really nice. But you waited a few seconds, thinking, and then replied.

“Normal. At least he seemed like it. Seemed kind of overwhelmed, like he hasn’t seen the inside of a grocery store in …” You frowned. “But super nice. I made him laugh.” Jess raised an eyebrow, waiting. “I didn’t realize it was him, so I just… I was joking with him, and being myself, and …”

“I don’t know that I would have been able to say anything to him.” She was staring at her phone again, eyes wide. “Do you realize how …” She showed you another picture of Logan, courtside at a Lakers game, dressed casually - dark t-shirt and jeans, worn boots on his feet. “He’s an actual celebrity, and you just …”

“He paid for my groceries, too.” You shrugged. “As a thank you, because I helped him pick out a card, and reminded him that ice cream does in fact melt outside of the freezer.” Jess laughed at that. “But yeah, that’s my brush with a famous person. Guess you don’t need to go to The Grove to see ‘em, they’re right in the greeting card aisle when you least expect them.” She snorted, eyes still on her phone. You thought of Logan, telling you not to believe what the magazines said about him, that most of it was bullshit. But what did he mean?

You didn’t have time to dwell on it, because there was a knock on Jess’ front door, and the woman jumped up to answer, leaving you sitting up on the mattress, phone in hand. “That’s Max, he’s taking me to dinner!” I guess I’m leaving, then… You stood too, tucking your phone into your back pocket, and followed the woman into the living room, where you found her in her boyfriend’s arms, the man’s lips pressed to the top of her head.

“Get a room, you two.” Jess laughed, pulling away from the man, and you reached for your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m going to go, I just wanted to drop off your card and say happy birthday.” She turned away from Max, holding her arms out and you stepped into them, hugging the woman tightly. “Call me this weekend, if you’re off, and we can go get a drink or something?” I’m sure I’ll need it, the rest of the week’s going to be …

“Yeah, maybe your luck will carry over, and we’ll run into someone else famous.” Jess wrinkled her nose and you rolled your eyes. “Max, she met Logan Delos today at the grocery store, and -”

“Was his fiancée there?” His tone interested - though you could tell he was joking - the man widened his eyes. “That red hair is -”

“Max!” Jess turned away and playfully smacked his chest, his hand rising to catch her wrist and tug her toward him. “I’m right here, and it’s my birthday.” He ducked his head and kissed the woman quickly.

“I’m just kidding, she seems really high maintenance, even if she looks alright.” She looks more than alright, but I agree, she seems like she… From what you knew of the woman - seeing her through the years on gossip websites and MTV, along with magazine covers, you agreed with Max. I definitely know more about her personal life than her career.

You left a few minutes later, smiling as you walked to your car and began driving home. It was a long drive - nearly a half hour from Agoura Hills to Burbank, where your studio apartment was, and you spent it listening to a playlist you’d created weeks earlier, the scenery flying by. Logan slipped from your mind almost entirely by the time you parked on the street in front of your place, but after you’d showered and changed, planting yourself on the couch with dinner, you were thinking about him again. Don’t be stupid. Stabbing your fork into a piece of chicken in your salad, you frowned, narrowing your eyes. You met him for five minutes, it wasn’t a big deal.

Continuing to eat, you flipped through channels, zoning out. It wasn’t difficult to let your mind wander; you’d been busy at work, putting in longer hours than usual, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel there - at least in terms of working over. For a month or two, anyway. Then it’s going to pick up again.

Working in the admissions office for Woodbury University wasn’t a glamorous job, but it was steady work - and it paid decently, since you’d been there for a few years. Paired with the tutoring sessions you did weekly, you made a decent living, and could have afforded more than the studio apartment you rented, but you didn’t see the point. It’s just me. And I’m never home, anyway. Keeping the small apartment allowed you to save money, paying off your other debts at the same time, and you were perfectly content with it. For now. It’s nowhere near as exciting as what Logan does … or what Ariella does. Unwittingly, your thoughts went back to the man you’d met a few hours prior, the easy smile he’d given you, the laugh that had erupted from his lips when you’d joked with him. You’d never know he’s a … You frowned. Millionaire? Multimillionaire? Rubbing at your eyes, you stood, putting your dishes in the sink and returning to the couch.

But we can’t all be tech geniuses or born British celebrities, I guess.

---

Logan tossed back the remainder of his drink, eyes scanning the horizon. From 73 stories above the city of Los Angeles, it felt like he could see forever, even though the slightly smoggy air made it more difficult. Though he was in one of the private cabanas, the curtains were open, giving him a view of the rest of the bar - and everyone there. Typical Saturday. He nodded once at the smiling brunette that brought him another drink, thanking her, but as soon as she’d turned away from him, she slipped from his mind, Logan focused only on the cool glass he held between his fingers, the condensation dampening the pads of them along with his palm. Reminds me of the Mesa. He lifted the drink to his lips, ice clinking against his teeth. More fun there, though.

While Logan didn’t get out to the parks as much as he had previously, visits to the Mesa were still high on his list of enjoyable activities, the hours he spent in the mountainside facility almost as memorable as the time in the parks. But that’s just because I don’t have to pretend. He gave a young man a smile as he walked past, and Logan knew without a doubt that if he’d beckoned him with one finger, the man would have stopped in his tracks, the two of them disappearing back into the hotel where Logan had a room on standby only to emerge the following morning. And she wouldn’t care, but I don’t… He frowned, taking another drink.

His fiancée was thousands of miles away, likely sleeping, and Logan was alone. Like always. He closed his eyes. Wonder whose bed she’s in tonight. The engagement - and subsequent wedding and marriage were nothing more than a smokeshow; carefully orchestrated by his own father and Ariella’s, meaning that there were very few rules he had to follow. Until the ceremony. He’d met the woman a few years prior, traveling to London to meet with a representative for her father’s business - which turned out to be the woman herself. They’d hit it off, finding each other attractive - moreso after a few drinks and some additional stimulation, hand delivered in the form of fine, white powder by one of the woman’s friends. Logan woke up the next morning, one arm around the redhead, and the other around her friend, none of them wearing any clothes.

That night was … probably a mistake. He frowned, taking another drink as his eyes scanned the bar patrons, all of them engrossed entirely in what they were doing and who they were with. I’m usually not by myself here, this is …

The initial deal done and the Delos empire continuing to expand, Logan and Ariella kept in touch, meeting when they were both on the same continent, but Logan had tired of the “extras” quickly, the drugs and the sex boring him, while she only seemed to need them more, embracing the lifestyle that she’d grown accustomed to being the youngest child of a wealthy former actress and businessman. She’s never earned her position with that company, and I … Logan sneered as he took another drink, setting the glass down and cracking his neck. I fought for it all.

The trip to the park with William prior to the first meeting with Ariella had done a number on him - Logan returning to the United States a mess, no one believing anything had happened to him - except for Juliet, and even that had taken time. She’d still married William, still got pregnant only a few months later, but it hadn’t taken the man long to show his true colors, and when confronted by both the Delos siblings, William had folded quickly, agreeing to a divorce with no spousal support, no visitation with his daughter, and no continued association with Delos - or any competitors. That was a win.

Logan finally smiled, thinking of the last time he’d seen the man, Logan unable to contain his anger as he’d drawn his arm back, punching William square in the mouth without saying a word. There’s never been anything more satisfying. He’d been involved with Ariella then - and despite Juliet’s belief in him, Logan was still using occasionally, forgetting everything that bothered him for a night or two a week via some substance, somewhere. It got bad, before that, but after I hit him? After he was gone, and lost everything? It felt better.

He still drank, still occasionally accepted party drugs when they were offered to him, but he didn’t depend on them to get through days, as he had while recovering after being released from the hospital. He didn’t crave the feeling of forgetting his life and the pain he’d endured in the desert, didn’t need the high that came with lowering his nose to the tabletop and inhaling, or putting the sharp end of a syringe against the crook of his elbow. Instead he wanted something more - something that he was beginning to understand that he’d ever have with his intended wife.

Logan was surrounded with people nearly all of the time, but despite this, he didn’t feel connected to any of them, except for Juliet. And even that’s not … it could be… He lowered his head, thinking. Could be more. Should be more. He’d never willingly admit it to anyone, but the thing Logan craved more than anything - money, drugs, sex, opulence - was a genuine interest from someone else that he could return. Anyone found that out, and it’d ruin my reputation. He grinned, deciding that it was time to go; he’d only stopped in to make sure that things were running as they needed to, needing to report back to his father that everything looked good - and everything ran as it was supposed to, the redesign on schedule and as discussed.

He stood, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a bill to leave on the table, though he always drank for free anywhere in the building. Should I stay here tonight, or go back to my place? He tucked his wallet back into his pocket and unbuttoned another of his shirt’s buttons, looking around. Is it worth it to look for … Nah. He rubbed at his beard, looking around again, eyes moving over the well-dressed men and women sitting and standing throughout the open space.

The arrangement that he and Ariella had was that before the wedding, anything was game - for both of them - as long as they could keep it out of the papers. Being discreet was key, and though it was simpler for Logan to blend in places, finding willing partners for a few hours or a full night, he didn’t participate as often as he’d assumed he would when they were ironing out the details. It’s just asking for trouble. And I … Ariella reminded him often that the relationship was only a business deal, that there weren’t any real feelings involved, and that as long as they followed the rules set forth by the terms of the agreement, they could get back to their lives within a few short years, each hopefully a few million dollars wealthier. But that …

It hadn’t mattered to the woman that Logan never lied - his honesty wasn’t an important factor to her, and in her mind, the relationship itself wasn’t a lie - they were going to get married, they were going to act as though they were truly a couple, and they were both going to benefit from it - along with both companies, too. They need us more than we need them. He began walking toward the exit, sidestepping people every few feet. We could more than get by without the hotels, but they … they need the resorts, and the Mesa, they need the… He paused as he caught sight of someone sitting near one of the large panes of plexiglass against the outside wall of the bar, his eyes widening. What are the odds?

He took one step forward, tilting his head to the side, and tried to decide whether or not he was going to continue approaching, or simply walk by and through the doors, heading to the elevator. There are millions of people in this city. And I’m 45 minutes away from where I … Logan poked his tongue into his cheek, narrowing his eyes briefly. Fuck it. He quickly stepped toward the table, clearing his throat, eyes moving over the woman’s face, assessing it even though it looked entirely different beneath the low lighting and against the black sky behind her than the first time he’d seen it . “You were right.” He paused as the woman - and her friend - stopped their conversation, both turning their heads to look at him. “The card? The ice cream? He loved ‘em.”

---

Logan? You were shocked to see the man again standing in front of you, this time dressed more casually than he had been in the store. You took a moment to answer, eyeing him and noting his appearance; less product in his hair, shirt buttons undone enough to expose an inverted V of pale skin at the base of his throat and the top of his chest, no jacket in sight. Say something. “Did he laugh a the card?” You wrinkled your nose, grinning. “Did he get it?” The man nodded, stepping closer to your table as someone pushed past behind him, and you quickly moved your glass away from the edge of it, giving him space to rest his hands if he needed to. He’s not staying, he’s going to …

“Are you going to introduce me?” Jess’ voice interrupted your thoughts, and you waited until Logan’s eyes moved from you and to her to blink, letting out a breath that you were almost positive he noticed you release. “I -”

“Logan. Logan Delos.” He held out his hand to your friend, the woman taking it eagerly, unable to hide her smile “And you are?”

“I’m Jess.” She bit her lip. “We’re out for my birthday.” Logan glanced back at you, but then focused entirely on the other woman, leaning in closer.

“Well, then, Jess,” he wet his lips, the action not going unnoticed by either of you. “Happy birthday.” He raised one eyebrow, the smile on his face growing. “Would it be alright if I bought you a drink?” What is he…? Logan turned back toward you, expression changing as he gave you the same smile that he’d given you in the store. It’s not as bright as … not as fake. “Both of you? If that’s alright, of course. I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

“We just got a new round, Logan.” You spoke quickly, eyes flicking to Jess, who was watching you in shock, confusion in her eyes. “I -” His eyes flashed, but his smile didn’t falter, the man lifting one hand to run his fingers through his hair. He already bought my groceries, he can’t…

“Sure.” Logan blinked. “I get it.” No, that’s not… “Let me at least tell the bartender that I’ll cover your -”

“Oh, come on.” Jess spoke again, leaning across the table toward you. “Let the man buy you a drink, it’s not like he’s asking you to jump in bed with him.” Your jaw dropped at her words, but she didn’t give you a chance to reply. What is she … that isn’t … he’s engaged. “I’ll take you up on that, Logan, and thank you for it, even if she doesn’t -”

“I really don’t want to interrupt.” He straightened up, eyes back on you. “I just thought that I’d offer, since … well, the chances we’d run into each other for the second time in a week are …” Nonexistent? “I …” He looked out of his element - only slightly - but you watched him collect himself, the easygoing smile disappearing, replaced with one that was just a little too formal. I offended him. I was just trying to …

“Logan.” You closed your eyes and reached out without thinking, your fingertips finding the rolled cuff of his sleeve, situated slightly higher than the middle of his forearm. “I’d love to have a drink with you. We’d love to have a drink with you. Thank you.” I just don’t want him to think that … The man visibly relaxed, and you wondered how often - if ever - people told him no, and if he reacted the way he’d reacted to you each time. You took a deep breath as Jess cheered quietly, not looking away from the man. “Here, let me change seats, that way you don’t have to -”

But Logan was already moving, stepping around the back of your chair, the pressure of his hand against the backrest pushing you forward slightly as he edged between you and the chair behind yours, going for the vacant seat between you and Jess. “Nah, it’s fine. This way I can still see the bar, an’ the waitresses can see me.” He didn’t say it smugly, but you realized as he spoke that Logan knew that the staff was looking for him, wanting to ensure that he always had a drink and was never waiting. It must be … He settled into the chair, back to the city, and instead of leaning back, Logan leaned in, taking a deep breath. “Watch.” He settled one elbow on the table and then lifted two fingers, one eyebrow raised, and before you had a chance to get a good look at the onyx ring he wore on his little finger, a waitress was tableside, asking him what he wanted. Jesus. That didn’t even… “It’s her birthday,” he spoke quickly, thumbing in Jess’ direction. “So whatever she wants.” With a nod, the woman looked at your friend, waiting. “I’ll…” Jess put a finger against her lips in thought. “I’ll take one of the Orion’s Polomas.” Tequila, Jess? Is that a… But the waitress was already tapping onto a small tablet, her eyes moving to you next, waiting. I have to order something, I feel like he’ll be offended if I don’t, and that isn’t … You glanced down at the menu, eyes scanning it.

“The Supermoon sounds good.” You glanced up at Logan, noting that he was watching you, dark eyes focused on your face. That’s kind of unsettling, but … “Can I get one of those, please?” The waitress nodded, and before you could thank her, Logan interrupted.

“I’ll take one of the Supermoons, too. You might as well make it a pitcher.” A pitcher? That’s too many… But the woman typed that in, too, and then turned to walk away from the table, short skirt showing off her long legs in the low light. Logan didn’t wait for her to get too far away before he shifted in his seat, saying Jess’ name. She leaned in, still smiling at him, but you saw that the expression was much more relaxed than it had been. She’s still kind of starstruck, but… she’s better now. “What else are you doin’ for your birthday?” Logan’s eyes flicked to you and then back to your friend. “She said she was buyin’ you a card the other night, and then coming over, but -”

“I went out to dinner with my boyfriend Wednesday, and I’m seeing my family next week, but …” She kept talking and you zoned out, looking over Logan’s shoulder and out at the horizon, the twinkling lights of LA partially distracting you. Absently, you listened to the two of them talk, waiting for your drinks, though you also kept an eye on his face and the way his low, smooth voice carried to your ears. Of all the people to see twice in a week, of course it’s him, and… While you watched him out of the corner of your eye, you tried not to stare at the way his cheek twitched every time Logan gave Jess a smile, or the way his eyes focused entirely on whoever he was talking to, only briefly moving at the approach of someone new. The waitress must … You watched Logan’s eyes follow the movement, though he kept speaking with your friend, and you turned toward the woman as she approached the table, a tray with three glasses and a pitcher balanced on it.

Smoothly, she set each item down, eyes lingering on Logan as the pitcher slid across the table’s surface, his hand reaching out, long fingers closing around the handle to lift and pour it. “Thanks, darlin’” You couldn’t help it and sucked in a breath as the word left his lips, your fingers flexing against the tabletop. I wasn’t expecting … But if anyone else heard - or saw it happen - they didn’t say anything, Logan looking up from the ice cube filled glassware and back at the woman. “And is the kitchen still open? I just realized I haven’t eaten tonight, and …”

“Of course, Mr. Delos. The kitchen’s always open for you.” She nearly purred the words, pushing her already full lips out as she finished speaking. “What can I get you? Would you like -”

He didn’t even pause before he answered, eyes on what he was doing as the liquid transferred from the pitcher to the glass, condensation already dripping down the surface of both. “Prawns and potstickers. The prosciutto?” He finally looked up, eyeing Jess first and then you, head tilted to the side. “That alright? Will you eat -”

“Yes.” You answered him and then looked at the waitress, smiling. “Sounds perfect.” How’d this go from one drink to food and a pitcher? But you didn’t ask out loud, instead extending your hand toward the man as he slid your glass toward you before filling the other for himself, lifting it and gesturing toward Jess in a toast. This isn’t what I would have expected from someone like Logan. But as the first taste of the drink hit your lips, strong but not overwhelmingly fruity, you realized that you didn’t know what you’d expected from Logan. I didn’t expect anything, did I?

---

I didn’t mean for this to… He took another drink from his glass, looking over the table between you and your friend, the second woman swaying slightly in her seat. I shouldn’t have. Logan was sober - he’d only sipped at the drinks he’d poured for himself after the second, letting the ice melt into them over time, and while your friend had continued to drink, you’d slowed yourself down, too. She’s bein’ smart about it. You were watching Jess somewhat warily, and though you didn’t say anything to the woman, he knew that you were mentally preparing to get her home, making sure that she was alright. People did that for me, too. But not enough of ‘em, they were too…

You’d eaten when the food came, thanking him again, and though the three of you had talked throughout the time you’d been sitting at the table, Logan was frustrated. This is bullshit. He raised his glass to his lips, taking a long drink, and though he could still taste the mint and lime, it was masked by the melted ice, the small, remaining cubes knocking into his teeth. But what is bullshit, exactly? Logan heard you speak, his attention focused back on you, watching as you reached a hand out to touch your friend’s arm. “Jess, we should probably think about calling a car, it’s a while back to my place, and -”

“It’s still early!” She wasn’t quite slurring her words, but Logan saw the expression on her face and the look in her eyes, recognizing it from his own experiences. You’re right, she needs to… Logan again raised two fingers without speaking, and within seconds, the same waitress was back at the table, lips pushed together and eyeing Logan with a look that he knew all too well. Do I know her? I feel like I … He furrowed his brow for a few seconds and then sighed. “Can we get another pitcher, but of water this time?” Both of you stopped talking, and Logan felt your eyes on him, though Jess let out a quiet whine. Yeah, I get it, but… “And the check, whenever …”

“I’ll bring that water right out, Mr. Delos, but you know that you -” She shifted her shoulders, pushing them back. “You know that it’s always -”

“Not this time.” He used one finger to indicate the table. “Everything from before I sat here, too.” Her eyes widened, but she nodded, the smile never leaving her lips as she turned. I think I probably … “And before you argue with me,” he said, turning in his chair to face you. “I got it.” You mouthed the words “thank you” and then turned back to your friend, who was still complaining quietly, though there was nothing behind her words. As the waitress brought everything back to the table, handing the sleeve with the bill in it straight to Logan and setting a new pitcher and glasses down before she began clearing the others, Logan heard a phone ring and watched Jess fumble in her purse, pulling the device out as she stood.

“Max?” The woman swayed slightly on her feet and then collected herself, holding the phone to her ear. “You’re never going to believe…” She pointed with one finger and you sighed, nodding as she began to walk toward an open seating area that was less busy than where you were, though it wasn’t out of eyesight. She’s a good friend. Logan opened his wallet and put a few bills into the sleeve, closing it and setting it at the edge of the table. Not at all what I thought tonight was going to be.

“The one night I’m not happy that I don’t live close by.” You groaned, putting your head down on your bare arms, which were folded on the tabletop. What? “I live in Burbank, and it’s only about twenty minutes, but she’s gonna…” You peeked up, wrinkling your nose. “She gets…”

“Carsick?” He leaned back, elbow resting on one corner of the back of his chair. “She was drinkin’ tequila.” You straightened up, laughing, and Logan stared at you while your eyes were closed, feeling himself smile. It’s different when it’s just the two of us, it… “How you gettin’ back?” He paused, thinking. “I can get you guys a -”

“Logan, no.” You stopped laughing, pushing the strap of your dress back up and over your shoulder from where it had slipped down. “You’ve already done more than enough, she’s going to tell everyone for the next year that Logan Delos bought her birthday drinks, and …” You rolled your eyes. “If she pukes in the Uber, she pukes in the Uber, and I’ll just make her pay me back.” She’s a really good friend.

“You know, I have a…” He spoke without thinking, the idea occurring to him suddenly. “I’ve got a room here. I’m not stayin’ in it or anything, but since this is one of the Delos Destinations property partners, I can get a room whenever I…” You opened your mouth to turn him down, but Logan didn’t let you. “I’ll walk you down, give you the key, an’ that’s it. You won’t have to worry about anything when you leave tomorrow mornin’, and you guys can take a car home without worrying about -”

“Logan, that’s unnecessary. You don’t even…” You weren’t looking at him the whole time you spoke, your eyes flitting through the crowd until you found Jess, the woman sitting on one of the green benches, legs crossed at the knee as she talked on the phone. “You don’t even know us, and you’re offering …”

“I know what it’s like to have too much to drink an’ then haveta try to get home.” He scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Trust me, it’s not a big deal. And since I’m the one that bought you all this alcohol, I feel responsible.” Where the fuck is this coming from? “I’m offering.” She’s gonna say no.

“Logan, I…” But he heard you swear under your breath, standing and leaving the table, moving in the direction that Jess had walked off in. Wh- But he followed you with his eyes, watching as you hurried over to the woman, one arm looping around beneath her arms as hers went around your shoulders. He stood, hand moving through his hair and walking over to you. “I’ve got her.” But Logan met your eyes again, watching as you closed them, giving him a nod. “We’ll stay, if it’s…”

“Yeah. C’mon.” He led the two of you through the crowd, and despite the fact that Jess was unsteady on her feet, there were no issues, Logan swiped his keycard at the elevator and urged the two of you in with him before the doors closed, the woman slumping against you once inside. “Hey, let me help you.” He could tell you wanted to turn him down, but you nodded again, and Logan’s arm replaced yours around the woman’s, his hand making contact with yours briefly as you switched places. Jess leaned against him, Logan holding her tightly, and by the time the doors slid open again, Logan had handed you the key, pointing you in the direction of the room. “They switch me out between the suites on this floor, an’ they told me which one was ready for me tonight when I got here.” It’s excessive, but …

The three of you stopped in front of the door to the Presidential Suite, and when Logan heard the quiet hum of the lock, you pushed the door open and stepped in before him, one hand reaching out to flip the light on. He’d followed countless women into hotel rooms in his life, had led even more into them, but when you glanced back over your shoulder to make sure he was following with your friend, Logan felt only confusion. I know nothing’s going to … but this … “I think I’ve got her from here, Logan.” You spoke as he helped the woman through the living area, bypassing the couch and heading straight for the door to the bedroom on the right. “I don’t -”

“It’s just a little further, it’s fine.” Jess squealed when she saw the bed, perking up and stopping in her tracks, kicking both shoes off. Yeah, they’re pretty comfortable, I don’t mind sleepin’ in them either, Jess.

“We’re staying here?” She pulled out of his hold, turning back to face Logan, a wide smile on her face. “I didn’t -” But he watched as the look in her eyes changed, one hand rising to cover her mouth, and without pause you again darted toward her, bumping into Logan as you rushed past him, pulling the woman toward the bathroom with another whispered apology under your breath. The door closed behind you, and only a few seconds later, he heard the sound of Jess coughing and water running. She was right. On autopilot, Logan turned toward the closet, pulling the hanger with the robe on it off the rack and heading toward the bathroom door.

He knocked twice. “There’s a robe out here if she needs somethin’ else to wear. I’ll leave it hanging on this chair.” He heard you reply with a thanks, and then Logan turned and left the room, walking into the open space of the living room after pulling the bedroom doors closed behind him. Rather than sitting on the couch, he stepped through the room, switching the lamps on. I should leave. I got ‘em here, I should go down to the lobby an’ call a car back to my place, and … But he didn’t, instead staring out and over the city, one hand in his pocket, the rectangular shape of his phone beneath his palm.

He hadn’t heard from Ariella in two days, and though it was barely midnight in Los Angeles, it was morning in London, meaning that there was a possibility that she was awake. He pulled the device out, opening their messages, but when he saw that the last one he’d sent earlier that afternoon still hadn’t been opened, he darkened the screen, putting it back into his pocket. Of course. Their arrangement wasn’t ideal by a long shot, but Logan had endured much worse in his lifetime, and for the sake of Delos - and keeping his word - would honor the deal he’d made. Even though it’s bullshit. He sighed, rolling his neck from side to side, watching as the lights twinkled in the distance.

“I’ve never seen LA from this high up.” He turned from the window, seeing that you were standing in the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. “I mean, from a plane, yeah, but … We went to Spire tonight because Jess told me that it’s one of her favorites, but I’ve never…” You stepped forward, head shaking back and forth. “And this room?” You threw your hands up, rolling your eyes. “It’s three times the size of my apartment. And there’s a fucking piano?” Well, yeah, there... “Logan, this is…” You were only a few feet from him, standing in front of the window next to the one he was at, eyes out on the cityscape as you trailed off.

“Jess alright?” He ignored what you’d been saying, trying to get you to think about something else. “I’ve been there myself, but it wasn’t alcohol, it…” He bit down on his lip. Shit, she might not have … “I’m sure you’ve seen the -”

“You told me not to believe everything I read, Logan.” He looked over, surprised to see that you were smiling at him. I did say that. “But yeah, she’s fine. I made her drink one of those big glasses of water, and I’m pretty sure that aside from that and the ibuprofen I had her take, there’s nothing left in her stomach, so…” You sighed. “If she gets sick in the bed, I’ll pay for the damages, or -” He turned and reached for you before he could stop himself, his fingers closing around your bicep and squeezing gently.

“No, you won’t.” He immediately let go of you, dropping his hand back to his side. “Believe me, even if she does get sick? It’s nothin’ they haven’t seen before.” You let out a breath, head tilted down and eyes focused on where he’d touched you. I shouldn’t have done that. “She really wouldn’t have made it home in a car, though, and at least now you don’t have to worry about -”

“Logan.” You were biting your lip, and he watched as your head rose, a pained expression on your face. “Why are you doing this? You don’t know me - or us, and this is a totally unnecessary gesture. You’re engaged. And you’re not exactly the type -”

“So you did look me up.” He felt disappointment flowing through him, fighting the urge to raise his hands and rub at his eyes. I thought this was… You stepped backwards, hands reaching out until you found the back of the couch, and Logan watched you perch atop it, the pillows moving as you sat. Leave. Leave it at this. Tell her again that all they have to do is wake up and go tomorrow, and then go home.

You swallowed, eyes still on him. “I did, Logan. I knew who you were, like I said the other day, but I guess I …” He watched your grip tighten on the couch, head dropping forward. “I wanted to know more about you, after meeting you?” That’s normal, why are you … “It’s stupid, but … and now we’re here, and I don’t know -” He said your name, cutting you off, and when you finally looked back at him, Logan took a breath.

“I meant what I said when I told you that you couldn’t believe everything that those goddamn gossip sites say, or what’s in the magazines.” He felt his lip curl. “That’s not what I wanted for myself, but I had a couplea rough years, and it’s… it is what it is now. I can only keep so much of it out of the press, but I’m not …” He thought back to the headlines from his benders, the way they’d all speculated that he’d be dead by 30, that his father would remove him from the company, that he’d ruined himself with his habits. But I didn’t. I fucking gave everything… “All that shit? That isn’t really…”

“It’s fine, Logan, you don’t need to -”

“Look, I can leave right now. You guys are safe here, and you can spend the night - order room service tomorrow morning before you leave. I don’t give a shit, it’s all on my account and it’ll be written off.” Raking a hand through his hair, Logan scratched the back of his head. “I’m doin’ this because despite what people might say about me? What they think is true because they see one sidea me and don’t bother lookin’ for more? I’m not just Logan Delos.” Where is this coming from? She doesn’t care, shut up, Logan. “I’m sorry your night ended this way, an’ I’m sorry that your friend’s not feeling that great, but I -”

“Do you want to leave?” Your interruption surprised him, Logan stopping mid sentence. “It seemed like there was another option, but I don’t -” I … He blinked rapidly, eyes on you. I should leave. “Logan?” He pulled his phone out again, checking the time, and seeing that there were still no missed calls or replies from Ariella.

“I can leave right now,” he repeated, setting the phone down on the tabletop after locking it. “And that’s it, just … goodbye, and thanks for havin’ a couple drinks with me so that I didn’t look like an asshole drinking alone at that bar.” Or … He didn’t know why he had anxiety about the next suggestion he wanted to make - he had no reason to. “Or, we could grab a couple beers from the mini fridge and sit out here on the couches for a little while.” Your eyes moved to the kitchen area and then back to Logan, though you stayed quiet. “It’s up to you.” He saw the apprehension in your eyes and took another deep breath, closing his eyes and nodding his head at you. “Look, I’m not propositioning you. I’m not tryin’ to get you into bed, or anything like that, but you don’t look tired, and I’m not in any hurry to get back to my place, so …”

He waited in silence, unsure of what else to say. The truth was, though, that Logan was curious about you. You’d said you lived in Burbank, but he’d met you for the first time in Thousand Oaks. You seemed slightly overwhelmed by the opulence of the hotel room and bar, and had known him from CNN instead of JustJared or Daily Mail. I want to know more about you, and I don’t … You were watching him intently, and Logan returned the look, letting his eyes roam over your face, though he hoped it wasn’t making you more uncomfortable than you already seemed to be. Finally, after a long pause, you stood, taking one step closer to him and reaching up with one hand to tuck hair behind your ear. “Alright, Logan. What kind of beer’s in that fridge?”

---

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gryffindorkxdraws · 4 years

Note

Want to start off by saying that I love your mind! I was hoping to get your opinion on: what is it in jackunzel that makes it feel so right?

EDIT: changed a few things ehe

ngl i found this challenging cus it made me think of how the answer would vary per person (yeah i went there idk why sdjkknds) so lemme get logical for a sec here haha

what exactly is the definition of “feel right”?

to make someone feel relaxed and comfortable, as merriam-webster states

simple as that, right? but wait there’s more

what makes something/someone go under that category?

now from there it expands because there are so many ways of answering that with everyone having different opinions and mindsets.

fair warning before we push on, this is going to get messy (like a word vomit) with how i’m just going to pour out everything i can think off, but just know i really like this question hence the, uh, mess? lmao

so back to your question, what is it in jackunzel that makes it feel so right?

in one POV, it could be because of how rapunzel and jack represent the sun and the moon respectively, making them two contrasting sides who shouldn’t collide and yet, against all odds and opposing forces that would come between them, they did.

and we can bet on the fact that they fought hard/struggled for it, depending on how fanfic writers play with it (reminds of this sun/moon au that sold me to this trope lmao).

just because others said it’s impossible or it’s against whatever, why should they listen to the “norm?” what even is considered “normal,” when the two can explore so much more of what they could be missing from life after stepping out of others’ shadows?

i just love sun/moon dynamics. i’m obsessed lmao i read the ones below somewhere and idk where but it’s been living in my head rent free and i can’t escape it tho feel free to correct me about any of these symbol topic!

like the Sun, thoughtful and full of energy to share with everyone, is connected with one’s self and known to, yeah, radiate warmth or light. it also symbolizes firmness, strength and power. oh and life too i guess?

while the Moon, subtle but full of mysteries and wonders, can also get emotional and sway others to be more nurturing. cus like it also symbolizes calmness, beauty, and nurture. plus eternity and enlightenment?

the list goes on if we head into more of what it both symbolize, but when these two celestial bodies get together, masculine and feminine energies unite. the Sun gives out life, while the Moon cultivates it.

i have no idea where i’m going but moving on

maybe it’s that taste of rebellion with going against the authorities/society/rules/of what has always been set to find out who they’re meant to be or, y’know, finding their identity without the shackles of others (like jack learning he has the potential to be a guardian and embracing it in his own time, and rapunzel realizing she’s the lost princess and works hard to be a good one),

or there’s something about the mystery that follows the other because they’ve never met anyone quite like them (like exploring a world they’ve never set foot on),

or finding all the good and bad in each other and in their differences, but still loving the other for who they are,

or what one lacks the other makes up for it and vice versa. with or without them realizing they can help each other grow to be a better version of themselves.

opposites attract who are bound to be full of surprises.

but on the contrary, they could also be two peas of a pod. aight this definitely goes against what i said above with all the opposites and stuff, but hear me out.

while they grew up and learned how to cope with life differently, they somehow still share the same sentiments when it comes to, for example, reaching their goals.

they have their own way to go about it, sure, but my point is they can reach a common ground better together compared when they’re with others.

like rapunzel with the lanterns, and jack with his memories. at first, one hesitated and wavered, while the other disagreed and pulled away. it was only after they saw a chance/realized this was it that they agreed in a heartbeat

they ultimately made the choice of diving in head first regardless of their initial thoughts in the first place. kinda like the moment they realized they can be a step closer to what they’ve been yearning for their whole life

bam, out of the way, they’re coming through lmao

not only that, but they can also be soft, gentle, understanding despite rapunzel’s spontaneuosness and jack’s mischievousness. we’ve seen them interacting with children and they’re so good at lifting their spirits up to have some fun and that there will always be a tomorrow.

and with their peers too. rapunzel lights up even the darkest of rooms, may it be like fireworks to bring joy or a campfire to warm one’s heart. jack meanwhile keeps things light when everyone else feels tense, easing others to relax and remember there’s always a way out

don’t forget the way they both sacrifice themselves for who they care for. like, they just do that, putting others first before them. that scene of saving eugene and baby tooth aaahhhhdjhdskdjkbkfjdkjf

and when everything comes crashing down and the world feels heavy on their shoulders, they both know they’re not alone with the other there for them.

maybe it’s the mutual understanding they have for each other after opening up, and finding a friend/partner/home through the connection they made together,

or they could be a push and pull that leads them to showing an unexpected side of the other, but in reality they always had it in them and all they needed was someone to show the way,

or how they complement each other, but they’re not two halves of a whole, no, rather they’re already whole themselves and they only reminded each other that they are,

or it’s simply because they don’t feel the need to put up walls or anything of the likes, because they know that no matter what they’ll be accepted for who they are.

opposites who have so much more in common than they originally thought

in another POV it could be because of how they give such partners in crime vibe. lowkey or highkey, take your pick. nothing would stop them from moving forward to a new tomorrow, or honestly whatever it is they put their minds to.

and i am here for that

like i said in one of my posts, “They were a magnet for trouble, with the Sun being a free-spirited and vivacious fellow, and with the Moon’s knack for mischief and being a rebel without cause.”

while both are adventurous, ready to explore whatever is out there, all the while just wanting to have some fun, they still balance each other out.

with jack usually ready to do what he needs/wants to do (which helps rapunzel to trust her gut and take the risk. that he’ll be there for her whenever she’s ready to step out of her comfort zone and jump away from her tower)

and with rapunzel knowing how to handle sticky situations properly (which reminds jack that not everything has to be done harshly and abruptly. that while freezing someone could be fun, it won’t solve things in the long run)

am i making sense? idek but you’re stuck with me lol but before i forget and i can’t believe i just remembered now. the way they can help fill in on what the other is missing

rapunzel wants to see the world, what goes out there, with the people, society, and history i feel. and jack can take her to wherever she wants to go. hell, he’ll even surprise her and bring her to places he’d think she’ll like.

with his experiences, he’s bound to have an endless list of plans for them to go through and it’s no surprise that she’ll love it, and (him) his gesture, nonetheless

jack wants to be noticed by others, to be seen and heard for who he is. and rapunzel is such a welcoming person that she accepts him wholeheartedly. give him the love he was deprived of for years.

reassure him that even he has a place to call home because why would he be excluded from that? he deserves it just as much as she and everyone else does

also i like to think they brainstorm ideas together

maybe it’s how they’re both game for an adventure, sudden or not, and this makes it easy for them to team up together and take on the world

or the feeling of familiarity as they click and everything flows naturally to them, where nothing is forced or uncomfortable between them

or how it’s like they can hold on to each other, knowing the other won’t let go no matter what because they’ll always have each other through the ups and downs

or it’s in their shared smiles, mischievous sparks in their eyes, moving together to the music of their synchronized heartbeats, as they step forward to the vast unknown

finding the ‘one’ who understands them inside out that they feel at home with them

i’ve said so many things and threw out so many brain rot, but what exactly is my final answer?

it’s simple: who knows? now before you toss me aside, and i hope not lmao, lemme just say even with that kind of final verdict, you can still find beauty in it.

you see, there’s so much more to explore and delve into with jackunzel because of their potential, that i don’t want to make a set answer for your question. i’d rather much help you, and anyone else wondering, to come to an answer yourself and maybe even share/discuss it with others.

i’m running out of brain juice, but i at least hope this helped satisfy your curiosity behind your question since this is all i can give… for now, maybe? who knows lmao

tho i’ll be honest and admit i based these on how i feel about jackunzel. so if ever someone else out there wants to add more points they thought of, feel free to add on this

#rotbtd #jackunzel #rise of the brave tangled dragon #the big four #jack frost and rapunzel #jack frost #rapunzel corona #holy hell what possessed me to type a damn essay lmao #my writing

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shibarirobot · 3 years

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Aizawa fic - CH 5 - Entrapment

18+ ONLY! SFW (for now)

Shouta Aizawa x Villian!OC/Reader(?)

CH1

CH4

Okay this chapter kinda fucked me up. I got very emo while writing this lmfaoooo, but again sooooooo sorry that I’m so inconsistent, I care about this story and I want it to actually be good before I post ((also I have the shittiest laptop on the face of the planet so I can barely use it)) more like I just dont have the patience to deal with it XD, mais oui! le chapter is done! Please enjoy! x

The chair I’m strapped to is stiff and uncomfortable at my back. I haven't been able to move for awhile and it’s driving me fucking insane. My back aches, my thighs are sore, I can literally feel my pelvic bone, not to even mention the cracked rib still throbbing and I’ve started to remember the broken nose I gave myself. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight, I can’t really seem to focus on the questions I’m being asked, let alone my answers. I’ve been here for hours, maybe days. I have no clue. I have absolutely no fucking clue. This dumbass, Detective Aiko just comes and goes, sometimes followed by a short man with a clipboard and glasses. He just asks a few questions and leaves, I’ve lost track of how many times he’s entered and left as quickly as he comes. This time he comes in dragging another metal chair and flips it around on the other side of the table, sitting on it backwards, like he thinks he’s fucking cool or something. He’s large, I’ll give him that. His thighs swallow up the chair easily and I’m surprised he can actually sit on the thing.

I look at him with my tired eyes. We’ve been at this too long, I’m so fucking tired and I can hardly hold his eye contact. My lips are so unbearably chapped they feel like they might split open at any moment, they might have actually, I can taste iron. I’m parched. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I’m about to crack, I can feel it. “Water.” My voice is tiny at this point, crackly from the dehydration. “I need water.” My eyes start to sag and I press forward slightly, straining against the straps on my torso, skin raw beneath them after so much of my writhing.

Detective Aiko blinks at me from across the table and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He easily taps one forward and plucks it from the box between his lips. I can tell it’s a practiced movement, he does it without thinking. His habit has become muscle memory. He shoves the pack into his pocket again and retrieves a zippo lighter. If I was more conscious I probably would have rolled my eyes, if it didn’t feel like they might fall out of my head if I did. Of course he has a zippo, ugh. It’s like he learned how to be a cop from watching cheesy cop movies. He flicks it open and closed in a split second and the cigarette is lit. He takes a deep breath, sucking down the entire thing, inhaling so deeply that his chest puffs and swells almost double. He holds that breath for a long moment, releasing it slowly. I expect the smell of burnt tobacco, but there is none. The smoke pours from his nostrils in thick swirls, but it dissipates quickly, without a single trace that it had once been there.

I can see his eyes go glassy from the nicotine high, his shrouded eyes have barely left me. He stares at me like I’m a caged panther; cunning, dangerous, volatile. All things I might have been if I could possibly think straight. “You’ll get your water after you cooperate.” He shifts in the chair slightly, flicking the used cigarette butt to the side. It falls to the ground unceremoniously and I can only imagine how often he flings those things haphazardly and how many thousands he has personally littered into our environment. I’m instantly seething again. A moment ago, I had no capacity for anything really, and now I’m filled head to toe with rage towards this stupid fucking cop. This man withholding my fucking water, my fucking life source.

The thought that he’s actually killing me passes and I pull at the cuffs around my wrists. “Fucking water.” The chains scrape across the table and I can feel the blood on my mouth, my lips have definitely cracked in multiple spots, blood pooling between my teeth. “I fucking need water!” Now I’m just shaking the chains, trying to make enough noise to get him to give in, annoy him into submission. “Water!” His eyebrow twitches, he seemingly has a very short tolerance for my behavior now, no longer amused by my sass and antics.

He quickly rises from the chair and kicks it to the side, it goes clattering against the wall and loudly falls to the ground, tipped on its side. The sudden jolt silences me and the room is tense with the lack of sound. “Who do you work for?!” He yells at me, full chested. The same question Eraser Head asked me in the alley. Where my allegiances lie. There’s another moment of silence before I bust into intense, manic laughter. They still really think I work for someone?

My throat threatens to give out on me, but I can’t control the laughter. “Me, motherfucker!” I shout back, only not as full, my voice is dying quickly, my laughter soon falling with it, replaced by a hacking cough that I’m pretty sure just shredded the dry skin inside my very dry throat. That doesn’t really seem to satisfy him though. He just grunts and picks the chair back up, setting it upright, but not sitting down in it like before. He just stands there, so tall and trying to be intimidating.

He crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs at me just once. “So we’re gonna keep playing this game, huh?” He pulls out another cigarette and huffs it down just as quickly as the first, barely even savoring the drag. His eyes close and he shrugs. “I guess you don’t want that water.” He quickly strides out of the room, leaving me alone and tortured. I can’t move, my body is giving out, I can’t speak because of my hoarse, abused throat, I can’t do anything at all, but sit here. My mind flashes back to when I felt this way before, tied to a dining chair in front of my drunk birther. My eyes start to water and I am amazed that I even have the moisture left in my body to cry. The parallels are too similar and I can feel myself reverting back, the whimpering that’s beginning in the back of my throat. A couple tears start to fall and I’m slowly slipping into that mindset when I hear the door open again.

I try my best to harden my face, trying to mask the depravity that I had just been wallowing in, refusing to make eye contact with Detective Aiko as he rounds the table again and sits in that chair. He sets something on the table and I’m surprised when I look up, to see Eraser Head sitting in that chair across from me instead. There’s a water bottle on the table and I honestly have nothing to say. I’m overwhelmed by this change of events and the tears come faster now, silently streaming down my face. I feel so vulnerable and this man that I have only prodded and teased is the one here to help me. It’s like the universe is laughing at me, it feels like a trick, but one I’m knowingly and willingly letting myself fall into. I suck in a deep breath, hoping he won’t say anything about my tears. “They haven’t cleaned you up at all, have they?” His voice is low, but he honestly sounds concerned. I lamely shake my head, unable to tell him that I’ve been sitting strapped to this chair since the moment he left. He grunts shortly then stands, slowly grabbing the water bottle and cracking the lid open.

My tears lessen as I watch him, he’s looking at me like I’m a wounded animal and deep down I can’t blame him. All I’ve done since meeting him is lash out and hurt him. In spite of all that he reaches out to me slowly, the cold water bottle in one hand, the other gingerly gripping the side of my neck and tilting my head back. I look at him hesitantly. I’m just supposed to let him pour water into my mouth? That feels too weird, and intimate, and needy, but I can’t really pour the water into my own mouth, so I part my lips for him. He gently presses the rim of the water bottle onto my bottom lip, easing the cold, fresh water onto my sandpaper tongue. His fingertips graze the skin on my neck as the pad of his thumb softly wipes away my tears. It’s so gentle and intimate that I can’t help but cry harder. I’ve never felt such a sincere caress and it’s like my heart is breaking into a million pieces, astounded by the tenderness that I haven’t allowed myself to even realize I was missing. The silent resentment falling away for a moment and letting something new replace it. Adoration? Sympathy? Genuine gratitude?

I take in this new feeling hesitantly as I try to gulp down the water as quickly as he’s pouring it into my mouth. I relish in the feeling of the cool liquid on my tongue and into the back of my throat, soothing the burning I had endured for so long. The tears continue to fall even after the water bottle is empty and I realize his hand is still gently stroking my cheek in an attempt to calm my tears. He tosses the empty water bottle aside and peers down at me. I stare back up at him, my eyes starting to puff up from the tears I had just shed, cloudy with the residual moisture on my lashes. He’s even more beautiful now than ever before, caring for me so tenderly, and I think I understand now. I love him. I must love him. The way I was drawn to him before, it all makes sense. I’ve never felt anything like this before, no one has ever given me even a sliver of a second thought, but here he is. This man I don’t even know caring for a tortured criminal that’s done nothing, but awful things. It must be love. It must be... something at least.

I realize the moment’s been too long and I turn my gaze away, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Here he is helping me, giving me the water I so desperately needed and I can’t even choke out a ‘thank you’. Should I? Would he want me to? His hand falls away and I hear him start to shuffle to the door. Dammit. I’m breathing heavy, trying to catch my breath from the way I gulped down water like a dying horse. “I’m going to get a first aid kit.” I almost don’t hear him, but my eyes snap open. He’s coming back? To help me even more? Eraser Head is… going to tend my wounds… that I got fighting… HIM. This is all so bizarre and my head spins a little, but I can’t help the trace of a grin that tugs on my lips and the slight twinge of heat in my cheek.

I hear that knock on the door again, but before it opens I mumble out a small, drained. “Thank you.” My throat is still destroyed, but it’s enough that I hope he heard me. I guess I’ll never know if he did or even cared because the door opens and closes with no acknowledgment that I had said anything. Once again, I am left by myself, in this too bright room, strapped to a metal chair. As I sit here, it’s hard not to fall back into my miserable thoughts. Self loathing and what if’s come easily. What if that really was a trick? What if he’s never coming back? What if I just imagined the whole thing? What if he’s disgusted by me and just taking pity? I internally cringe at myself. That one is probably closest to the truth. He thinks of me like a charity case, someone who can’t help themselves. He’s a hero after all, that good ole savior complex will always rear it’s big, nasty head at some point. He’s helping me to make himself feel better, not to make me feel better. I sneer at myself. I almost fell into his trap, but no. I’m better than that. I was almost that dumb cunt I used to be, trusting people, needing others help. Fuck no. I promised myself I would never be that person again. I’m better now.

But then the indignation fades and all I’m left with is the reality of the situation. I do need his help. I’m broken and bleeding, strapped to a chair in an interrogation room. I start to cry again. It’s not a heavy cry, just one that makes you realize so much in such a short period of time. I cry as I realize I do need help. I need more help now than I’ve ever needed before. I’ve probably needed help this entire time and refused to see it, refused to ask for it. Asking for help never seemed like an option, it seemed like a burden. Yet, Eraser Head isn’t even offering me help, he’s giving it. Willingly. Of his own accord.

I continue to struggle with my thoughts on the situation far longer than I would deem necessary before I admit to myself it doesn’t matter because he’s simply not coming back. It’s been too long for him to have actually been going to get a first aid kit. He’s gone forever now. Poof. Might as well stop thinking about him. I can’t though. Can’t stop thinking about his perfect face, the way he touched my neck, the tenor of his voice, the scruff on his chin, the scar under his eye, the heat of his body behind mine. It all sends a thrill through me, but more than that, just a deep sense of longing. I yearn for him. I just want him to come back to me, I don’t care if he has the first aid kit he left for or not. I just want him to be present with me because everything just hurts less when he’s here. The open wounds mean nothing when he’s here. He’s the only reason any of my pain has ever been eased. I need him. I love him.

I start to allow fresh tears to fall, but my eyes are already welded shut from the fat tears I had shed earlier, too heavy to open and crusted over with dried tears because I still can’t wipe my eyes. The new ones gently come and allow me to crack open my eyes just slightly. I’m honestly on the brink of exhaustion, but my body has miraculously found a way to push forward. I’m taking a deep breath, trying to re-center myself. Get a grip on reality. Stretch my fingers and toes, get some feeling back in my aching body, crack my neck as best as I can. It’s not much, but it helps. I’m the only one that can do anything for me now. I start trying to survey the room to a closer extent than I had before, but honestly it’s still the same, too bright, all white room. I guess I can see a vent in the top right corner, but it’s too small for me to even think about escaping from. Not to mention, I can’t see a camera, so it must be in the corner behind me, watching, recording my every move. I grumble. There’s also the two way mirror, that I assume has had at least three people on the other side of it at all times. I’m completely under thumb.

I sigh, there’s not much I can do in this situation, and this dumb collar is still canceling my quirk. I’m chained up and defenseless. Fucking great. The door scrapes open again and I startled to see Eraser Head quickly invade the room, that wild look in his eyes again. The tips of his hair are flicking back and forth angrily, but not like it was before when he was erasing my quirk, more like… he’s just worked up. He’s breathing deeply, standing up straight and crossing his arms, a full 180 from his calm, gentle demeanor he had earlier. He’s actually quite intimidating like this and I start to shrink into myself, not knowing why his mood has changed. I didn’t do anything. He looks to the door and reaches out to flick his wrist in a ‘get the fuck over here’ motion. Detective Aiko comes into the room and unlocks my cuffs, releasing my arms from the table. He seems reluctant and I’m insanely confused by this sudden turn of events. My eyes are wide and I look to Eraser Head again, confusion evident on my twisted up face. “I’m taking you to the hospital. The collar will stay on and I will cuff you down when we get there.” He says it all so blankly and I’m even more confused that I was before he answered.

Detective Aiko doesn’t look up, he just grumbles out a gruff, ‘bad fucking idea’ before moving onto the straps at my torso, allowing me to pull away from the chair just a little bit. I struggle to force my muscles to keep myself upright, wanting to slump over and crumple to the floor. He undoes the one at my lap and I barely feel it because my entire bottom half has gone numb at this point. He lowers down further and unlocks the cuffs at my ankles, fully freeing me from the chair. I’m immediately elated to be liberated once again, getting overzealous and springing from the chair. Blood rushes to my head and my numb legs remind me how bad of an idea that is because I tip forward, falling into the metal table, the wind knocked from my lungs. I let out a wheeze and feel strong hands pull me back up onto my feet from my shoulders.

Eraser Head wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his hip to support my weight. I can feel his hero muscles swell as he pulls me off the table, shifting so we can shuffle towards the door. I’m still dazed and weak, trying to work with his movements instead of against them, but my legs can barely hold myself up and he ends up dragging me along with him more than anything else. My head is right next to his shoulder, tucked tight to his body and I press myself closer, nuzzling my cheek onto his collarbone. He feels so good against me. I’m so woozy, I feel like I’m dreaming. This all could be a mirage, I am dehydrated as hell. But it feels so real and so good that I just submit to it immediately. I press even further, trying to get up to his neck. Trying to be closer. The moment crashes around me in an instant as cuffs fall around my wrists. Damn. It’s Detective Aiko standing behind me, cuffing my wrists together and ruining the moment I was just having with Eraser. I glare up at him and he just ignores me, squeezing the cuffs tighter, too tight. I yelp, but he just looks over to Eraser Head like, ‘Really?’. Eraser grunts and holds his hand out for the key, he still has that wild look in his eye and I realize now that it’s pointed at Detective Aiko. HE’s in the doghouse, not me. Well, I am still arrested, but it doesn’t really feel like it when Eraser Head is personally escorting me to the ER, cuffs or no cuffs. Detective Aiko drops the key into his outstretched hand with an eyeroll.

Eraser Head spins me around, so I’m facing forward. My head is still dizzy, but my legs are starting to get some feeling back and I’m able to stand on my own now, even if I am a bit wobbly. He pulls me close to him again, gripping my bicep with one hand and supporting my weight with a hand on my hip. He’s taller than I remember him being. Glancing over my shoulder, I have to look up at him. His jaw is set, clenched with the anger he’s trying to hold back, silently seething. He’s still eyeing Detective Aiko with a menacing nature, I know his quirk is eye related, but it seems he also has a natural affinity for staring anyways. I watch him tuck the key into his front pocket, then grip my arm again, his hands are so large. I gulp, now realizing my ass is basically pressed up to his hip. He’s still taller than me, it's more like his thigh, but that doesn’t change the fact that my ass is on this man. My mind goes crazy as he holds me there, having some kind of stare down with Aiko. Neither of them has moved, but after a moment the detective shifts back with a grumble. Eraser Head grunts and guides me forward, supporting me as we exit the interrogation room.

Eyes follow us as Eraser Head leads me out of the room and down the hall. The receptionist at the front desk gasps when she sees me walking (semi) free. I can tell they all know who I am. I can tell they’re all scared of me. I don't need my quirk for that. I take advantage of the tense scene before me and grin, lurching forward at the woman sitting at the desk. Eraser Head is still gripping me firmly, so I don’t make it very far before he yanks me back to his body, but I do make it far enough to scare that bitch gawking at me. She screams and drops the phone receiver in her hand, stumbling backwards. I didn’t really expect such a dramatic reaction, did she really think I was gonna rip her head off or something? I’m fucking handcuffed… and doesn’t she fucking work at the police station? She should be used to this by now, why is she so fucking scared? Dramatic bitch.

Eraser Head pushes me forward, obviously still riled up from previous events. I stumble forward a bit, but his grip on me is so firm I couldn’t fall if I wanted to. We continue walking through the waiting lobby, until we reach two large glass doors. Outside the doors, it’s day time, probably late afternoon by the look of the sunlight. I take a deep breath, ready to take a step out those doors, ready to leave this awful fucking place, full of these awful fucking people. Eraser presses the handicap button and the door swinging open, the air is warm as we step out and it’s a little joy in this shitty situation that I bask in for a moment. When we step onto the sidewalk, I look up at Eraser Head. This protective stance, the hand on my hip, if I just ignore the handcuffs it’s like we’re a couple on a stroll. I smile up at him, thinking about how sweet he looks with his hair catching the late afternoon light. It’s golden hour and it settles on him nicely, highlighting his stark features. His eyes flick down to me and an expression of genuine surprise passes his face for a split second. He looks away quickly, a blush coating his cheeks, but his face returns to its stoic default.

We continue like this for a moment until we come up on his vehicle. I’m not sure what I expected, but a small wave of sadness washes over me as he opens the rear door, shoving me into the backseat. I didn’t really think he would put me in the front with him, but this feels so… impersonal. I guess that’s what we are. Impersonal. I mean, I don’t even know his last name. I slouch into the black leather of the car and pout to myself, feeling defeated. Eraser Head buckles me into the seat, leaning over me with his whole, big body. Heat floods my stomach and suddenly I’m feeling something… else. I huff, breathing in his scent, I can still smell the bergamot on him, but the other scent on him still eludes me. It’s sweet and musky, almost earthy. He pulls away before I can breathe in again, shutting the door on me, boxing me into this car alone again. He’s in the driver’s seat about 4 seconds later, but the silence of being alone again still stands out to me. I shake my head, and try to focus on the sounds of the car as he roars the engine to life and pulls out of the parking lot.

Thank you for reading! :)

I love reading yall’s comments so please leave a note for me! (see that double entendre hehe im so smart)

but seriously, thanks for the love and the followers especially for only one fic

(also I hope u all can tell how much I fucking despise the cops for this chapter)

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

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You Were Never Truly Gone - END

>>>Read on AO3<<< Rating: M

So this is it, the final chapter. It was fun to share this with you all, and I do hope that you enjoyed the ride at least a little bit ;) check end note ( on AO3) for a surprise

The room where the most honored and powerful individuals of the Hizuru nation resided was a spacious one. Intricate paintings decorated the walls, cuts in the wood created beautiful carvings and the pottery alone was worth more than what a decent-sized village would eat through in a month. Overall, it triumphed everything Mikasa saw in her life, easily topping the castle back on Paradis, and a single thought flashed through her head.

Those guys are lucky that all this pomp wasn’t trampled during the rumbling.

Unlike the room, the council itself was almost exactly what Mikasa expected. Old men and women sitting in expensive chairs and wearing expensive robes – kimono, was it? – studying her with cold and calculating eyes. Unlike Kiyomi, who Mikasa respected despite their recent disagreements, these were the ones who lacked the spine of iron she possessed. They never took an active part in the war, never braved the sea to assist the struggling nation, never stared down a barrel of the gun.

Never kicked Floch’s ass either. Heh.

They inspected her - a curiosity, a trinket shipped from across the sea to be pinned on the Shogun’s chest, a strange yet beautiful ornament. Vultures, carrion eaters, exactly the type that Mikasa despised, as they reminded her of the same individuals who were responsible for the fucked up political situation back home. Then again, Mikasa was not here to change them, she could never do that, she wasn't a politician. She was here to blow their minds.

Summoning her courage and combining it with the steadfast presence of masked Eren at her back, Mikasa took a few steps forward until she was standing in the middle of the room. Easy to be seen, easy to be heard. Kiyomi, who followed close behind, saved her from the awkward need of introducing herself. An unnecessary formality, as they definitely knew who she was.

“Lady Mikasa Ackerman of the Paradis Island.”, Kiyomi said out loud, “The Shogun’s descendant.”

A wave of murmurs ran through the seated council members.

“Lady Mikasa,”, one spoke up, a man whose facial features closely resembled Daigo’s, “It is an honor.”

“The honor is all mine.”, she replied quickly, knowing how important first impressions are.

If this was indeed lord Sawamura, as she suspected, he was the one holding the most power in Hizuru's shattered government. A man who expected his son to be the next Shogun, a plan she was here to disrupt. Thread carefully…

“We hope that your journey was pleasant.”, a woman council member said, a neutral smile on her lips, “The seas can be cruel at this time of the year, but we had more than enough suffering.”

“The journey was fine.”, Kiyomi spoke up, moving past Mikasa and taking her seat on the vacant chair.

It was her right, of course, as she was a full member of this council.

But exchanging formalities would get them nowhere – yet before Mikasa could say anything Sawamura took the word.

“I feel like we all know why we have gathered today.”, his eyes found Mikasa’s, “I know that this is rather sudden, but we would like the wedding to be held in a few weeks at most, the people need something grand to focus on and this event will give them just that.”

"The royal tailor is here,", the woman from before chimed in, "We can have your measurements taken today if you are not too tired lady Mikasa. The sooner he can start working on your dress, the better."

“I-“

“The florist is here too, so we can discuss the choices of…”

“….the carpets…”

“Number of guests?”

It became a blur around her, the council talking together as if Mikasa wasn't even there. It was exactly as she suspected – she was a trophy from the distant lands, a status shipped over because of the blood in her veins. But did anyone care about what she had to say?

Hell no.

Finding Kiyomi Mikasa realized that the old woman was looking straight at her, the message clear. This was her show, and if she wanted to be more than a pretty face she had to speak for herself, Kiyomi wouldn’t bail her out this time around. Closing her eyes and preparing the speech, Mikasa inhaled deeply.

Eren being here was stupid, she knew that, but was glad for it regardless. His presence behind her, however masked, was something she could draw strength from. It was them she was fighting for now, the whatever they had because it filled her with joy like nothing else. She had to defend that, no matter what.

“I’m not marrying.”, she said.

Everybody ignored her and yammered on about the wedding, while Kiyomi’s ironic smile grew.

“I’m not marrying!”, she shouted this time around, finally getting the council’s attention.

“What do you mean?”, someone asked from her right.

“I won’t marry anyone because I will be your Shogun instead.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The silence was so thick that Mikasa could probably cut it, lasting for three seconds before it imploded into another heated debate. There was a lot of shouting suddenly, disbelieving shaking of heads, and lord Sawamura was among the loudest, immediately getting Mikasa’s attention.

“A woman can never be a Shogun!”

“A woman never was a Shogun,”, she replied, “and I would like to remind you all that these circumstances we find ourselves in are also unprecedented.”

“Why would we ever vote for you? You are an outsider, you know nothing of Hizuru!”

“Fair point,", Mikasa agreed, “Let me explain…”

The commotion died down as they stared at her – the sheer audacity of her words taking the winds from their sails.

“I had no ties to Hizuru, no deep need for a reconnection with my people. My mother died before she could tell me about you all, before the spark in me was ignited. All I was given is this-“, Mikasa raised her hand, letting everyone see the tattoo on her wrist, “This ink, this mark of a clan I didn’t know, that was nothing to me back then. I kept it secret because my mother wished it so, but didn’t pay much attention to it, as you can all agree that I had quite a lot on my mind.”

Eren smiled behind the Faceless mask, very much remembering how privileged he felt when Mikasa peeled those bandages from her wrist and showed him the mark for the first time, years and years ago. In the middle of the room, she continued her speech.

“Then Kiyomi came, telling me all about your nation and my heritage, and I was taken aback. So this was what the mark meant, this was why I should have kept it hidden – suddenly I was royalty.", she chuckled, "You could imagine that I wasn't exactly thrilled by that."

“The war happened, rumbling destroyed the world and I was left to sit in Paradis and watch it become a militaristic stronghold. And that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore.”, for the first time in her speech, Mikasa raised her voice, “I have seen too much death, too much war, too much suffering for it to repeat again and again, for humanity to be stuck in some never-ending loop of violence. I have decided to use this mark, this status of mine for one thing and one thing only.”

She spread her arms.

“Peace. And not only peace of a shocked world that is slowly rebuilding from the ashes, but a peace that will survive not only us in this room but our children too. That’s why I’m asking for your support as the new Shogun. I am not a skilled and experienced politician, I am a soldier who was burned out by the violence I was forced to endure. Yet it gave me something, it gave me the status of a hero and I will use it to help you.”

One by one, her eyes moved to the occupants of the room.

“Hizuru needs a symbol, a figurehead to rally behind and I will be that for you. In return, you of the ruling council will help me in securing the peace I long for, by guiding me in these trying times. I do not care for the power that a status of the Shogun brings, I care for the possibilities it opens.”

“Such as?”, an old man spoke, guarded expression on his face.

“Paradis needs help. It is a powder keg that is bound to explode, if not today then tomorrow, if not now then in dozen years. I want to defuse it, and in return provide Hizuru with a stable and profitable partner.”

“How?”, the same old man questioned her.

"The feelings of supremacy and prejudice towards the outside world can be dispelled with only one thing – information. If we make the trade and people flow between our nations, they are bound to integrate into the society. Those who come here from Paradis will see that we are the same as them, those who move from here to the island will help them overcome their destructive mindset.”

“That is all very nice and all,”, a woman was speaking now, sitting next to Kiyomi, “but what is your guarantee that it will work out?”

"I have none, only the feeling that the world had enough death and destruction for a long, long time. I believe that the Yeagerists are scared, afraid of retaliation from the outside world, and if we don't do anything this fear will in time change into a deep hatred."

Another round of murmurs ran through the council before the old man spoke up again.

“It is nice that you have a plan for Paradis, but what about Hizuru? As a Shogun our nation should be of the uttermost interest to you.”

“I’m still learning about this nation, I am an outsider after all. I think that this opening of borders with Paradis will help us economically, and I can assure you that queen Reiss will be more than open to negotiation. The island is a goldmine, or do I have to remind you about all the iceburst stones?”

Playing on their greed – shifting in her seat Kiyomi couldn’t help but be impressed by how Mikasa was leading the council, and her speech was not done yet.

“Selling those is a very lucrative activity, and I am sure that I would be able to get us an exclusive partnership… With Paradis, I am very experienced, but the subtler points of ruling elude me.”, she bowed slightly towards the man, “That’s why I will leave a large part of power in your hands, esteemed council, because you will help with the best interests of Hizuru at heart.”

Even more murmurs appeared between the seated men and women as they realized what Mikasa was offering them. A leading figure while they would keep most of the power, something to rally behind and guide Hizuru out of this fractured state they found themselves in post rumbling.

“We will need to put this to more discussion and a vote.”, the old man took the word, “We thank you for your time, lady Mikasa, and will let you know of the result.”

With a last bow she left the council room, Eren in his Faceless uniform just a step behind her. Kiyomi watched them leave with a tight expression, very much knowing that once the door closes the eruption of words will be enormous. Taking a breath, she steeled herself, prepared to defend Mikasa’s points.

To a limit, of course.

It wasn’t until they reached the solitude of her chambers that Mikasa collapsed into Eren’s chest, emotionally exhausted.

“Do you think that we have a chance?”, she asked in a small voice.

“You presented yourself very well,”, he soothed her, rubbing small circles on her back, “They would be fools not to take you up on the offer.”

“You think so?”

“With you, the council can keep much more of the leverage than it had, and they are all power-hungry fools – let me remind you that Kiyomi told us these are the ones who tore the country apart.”

“That’s fine, but I have no intention of letting them turn me into a puppet.”

“I know that, Kiyomi knows that, but they don’t. They see an outsider that they can use as a symbol to say – we have this hero of the Rumbling on our side, rally behind her because she is among those who saved the whole world.”

“Officially, Armin is the one who killed you.”

“I know, but you were there with him.”

They stood in silence, hugging each other, until Mikasa spoke up.

“Can you remove your mask for a second?”

“Uhm, sure, but why?”

A snicker.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Just a kiss?”

“Don’t make me tear it off, Yeager.”

“I would not dare, my lady.”

It took several hours, and the day outside slowly progressed into the night. Mikasa was nervous, walking around her room like a caged tiger, replaying the conversation in her head and wondering if she could have said something different, something better. Eren watched her, unsure of how to calm the storm that she was, and in the end decided to just passively stand there and hide behind the Faceless mask. A bit of a cowardly move but he really didn't want to get in a fight with her, especially not now.

The tension was broken when the door slammed open, a red-faced courier appearing. From the way his chest heaved, it was easy to guess that he ran the whole way.

"Lady Ackerman,", he bowed low, "The council has reached a decision, if you would be so kind to accompany me?"

Self-consciously smoothing the wrinkles on her uniform that formed from all the marching, Mikasa nodded at the man.

“Lead the way.”

Every step bopped the heart farther up Mikasa’s throat, and not even Eren’s presence was enough to calm her. This is it – here she would find out what the future held for her.

In no way, shape or form would she ever go along with the marriage – either she gets what she wants or she and Eren are doing a dramatic and most likely bloody escape from the palace. And if they die, they can finally be free and together in the afterlife – Mikasa had no doubts that if there was a place after death, they would find each other again.

The door was familiar, even the guards who opened it for her, and Mikasa stepped into the room with Eren in tow. Eyes of everyone swung to her and the conversation halted – the expressions of the council members remained unreadable, even Kiyomi betrayed nothing.

"We have talked about your proposal extensively, lady Mikasa.", lord Sawamura began, "We weighed the pros and cons, went over everything you said slowly and carefully."

He looked her straight in the eye as he continued.

“You must understand that Hizuru is this council’s primary concern – no individual, no matter how big or small, can take precedence over the nation. In light of that, we have reached an almost unanimous decision.”

Mikasa held her breath, eyes instinctively searching for escape routes from the room. Behind her, a tiny clink could be heard as Eren's fingers curled around the handle of his sword. This did not sound good.

“And so with all that in mind,”, Sawamura went on, “The council has decided to…”

Half a step back, the door was right behind her, she could…

“…accept your offer, lady Mikasa.”

“I… W-What?”

“We will let you take up the mantle of the Shogun.”, Sawamura grimaced, “It wasn’t an easy call to make, but lady Azumabito was very vocal in her support.”

Kiyomi’s face didn’t move, remaining neutral.

"You will, of course, share most of the power with us, and all the decisions must be signed by the council before going public. We have decided to take this opportunity not only as a change of a Shogun but as a shift of our nation towards democracy…"

In other words, they were exactly as power-hungry vampires as Mikasa hoped them to be, but she couldn't care less. She listened as Sawamura went on but his words couldn't truly find purchase in the mush that her brain became. It worked – however bold and stupid her plan was, they went along with it.

It was over, finished, she had won, and everything else was worthless padding.

It wasn’t until about an hour later when she was permitted to leave. The council would continue in their session, most likely tearing up the power into small pieces and stuffing themselves full with it, and they didn’t need her to witness that. Elated to be free, at last, Mikasa took off in the direction of her chambers, feet beating the floor in a steady staccato.

“What’s the rush?”, Eren huffed behind her, burdened by his armor.

Checking left and right that they are alone, she stopped and turned, coming face to…. mask.

“I have been on the edge for several hours,”, Mikasa muttered in a heated whisper, “so we are going back to my room and there you will help me get rid of some of the frustration.”

She slapped his breastplate.

“And that’s an order, soldier.”

Despite the mask, she could hear the grin in Eren’s answer.

“Yes ma’am.”

He didn’t complain after that.

After everything coming together and an evening and a night of great pleasures, Mikasa expected a lot of happy reactions from her body – she didn’t expect to throw up in the morning.

Eren refused to stay away, holding her hair and rubbing her back while she retched into the toilet. One of the disadvantages of having long hair, it gets in the way.

“I’m sorry,”, she murmured once she could speak again, “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You are sorry because you are feeling sick, that’s…”, he chuckled, “that’s so you, Miki.”

Yet while Eren would be fine with just leaving it at that, knowing that Mikasa was exactly as boneheaded as him if she wanted to, their new patron disagreed. Kiyomi wouldn’t hear about just “walking it off”, that was literally the worst thing that she heard in a long time. Was that how they took care of their health on Paradis? Well, ultimately it didn’t matter as Mikasa was the future Shogun, and keeping her healthy was the old woman’s utmost priority. The doctor she summoned was probably the best in all of Hizuru and his prices reflected that, but money was not a concern anymore.

What a strange way to live, Mikasa thought to herself.

He was the perfect professional, examining Mikasa with quick and precise hands, all of it while Eren’s eyes never left him. The Faceless guard was truly expected everywhere, and the doctor didn’t have the slightest problem with him staying.

It didn’t take long, and when all of the symptoms and tests finished, he had exactly one thing to say.

“You are not sick, lady Ackerman.”

“No? Then what is happening to me?”

“I believe that congratulations are in order.”

That did nothing but confuse the poor girl even further.

“What?”

“You are pregnant.”

It took every single fiber in Eren’s body not to explode right there, his knuckles tightening so much that they cracked audibly. Kiyomi on the other hand had a completely different reaction.

“Pregnant? But how?”

The doctor sighed.

“Do I truly have to explain that?”

“What? No, no we… I mean…”

“Good, I’ll be taking my leave then.”

With a bow the man disappeared, leaving the three of them alone and finally giving Eren the chance to do what he wanted. Ripping his mask off and closing the distance to Mikasa in two steps he picked her up, spinning her around while laughing like a maniac. She was still half in disbelief, keeping silent.

Which was okay, because Kiyomi had a lot to say.

“Do you have to destroy everything that I plan?”

Eren was stuck in his happy place, content with laughing, so Mikasa answered for them both.

“It’s not like we planned it…”

“Of course you didn’t…”, Kiyomi rubbed her forehead, “This is so….”

“Great!”, Eren finished for her, “I can’t believe it!”

“Troublesome,” Kiyomi disagreed.

Deep in thought, she tapped her foot once, twice, three times before saying something that drastically changed the atmosphere in the room.

“You should get rid of it.”

“What?”

As gently as he could Eren set her down, getting between Kiyomi and Mikasa as if the old woman would charge her and try to carve the baby from Mikasa’s stomach.

“It’s the most logical way,” Kiyomi argued, “getting pregnant out of nowhere while not being married? It will bring nothing but trouble.”

“We are not getting rid of it.”, Eren cut her off before realizing that there was someone else in the room they should ask.

“Or… Are we?”, he turned to Mikasa, worry creasing his forehead.

She stared at him for a second, wondering if he just did that – if he asked: Do you want to get rid of something she and Eren created from their love, a proof oh much they adored each other, an offspring that would…

“No.”, she said out loud, “I don’t.”

The relief was visible on him, same as the irritation on Kiyomi.

“Oh good…”

“Lady Mikasa…”

“I’m not getting an abortion. Not an option.”

It was one of the fights that Kiyomi knew she could never win, so she did the smart thing and backed down before it even started.

Stupid kids. Dumb stupid kids risking everything just for… well… whatever. They wouldn't take the easy way out, and Kiyomi was stuck with them. Maybe she didn't like the plan at first, the way Mikasa led her in blind, manipulated her, but Kiyomi would be lying if she said that it wasn't impressive. For a former soldier who had no training in such things, guile and outsmarting came naturally to her.

More importantly, Kiyomi did like the girl, despite all her claims that this is all just for the greatness of the Hizuru nation. Mikasa was everything she wanted in a leader, or in the daughter that she never had. Which would, in some strange twisted way, make Kiyomi a grandmother, now that Mikasa was pregnant. Too bad that the child would be cursed with having Eren Yeager for a father, that guy could go burn in hell for all Kiyomi cared.

Anyway, if they didn’t want to get rid of the kid, there were certain changes to be made, to make sure that the plan didn’t go down in flames.

“Then we have to accelerate this whole thing.”, she said out loud.

“How so?”, Eren questioned her, still in that defensive stance between her and Mikasa.

Please, as if that girl ever needed protecting, the memory of her sweeping in and taking out half a room of armed men was still in Kiyomi’s memory. A nice gesture though.

“The preparations would normally take time, and Mikasa can hardly show herself on the day of her coronation day with a belly, can she?”

“Will the council accept this?”

“I don’t know, but I swear that I’ll do my damnedest to make them. Maybe I can twist it, paint the situation more desperate than it is, lie that the people are restless and that they demand the new Shogun to be crowned as soon as possible…”

“I’m going to start showing sooner or later…”, the to-be-Shogun peeped from behind her heroic protector, still in disbelief and staring down at her stomach, “How does this help?”

“Once you are the Shogun I can figure something out, but first we have to stick you up on that chair.”, she nodded at her, “One problem at a time.”

Slow and uncertain, Mikasa nodded back.

“One at a time.”

It would appear that while Kiyomi was anything but elated with her plan, she was going all-in right now. Same as the situation with Paradis – once she committed to a cause she was the best schemer and supporter one could ask for.

Excusing herself, Kiyomi left the two of them alone, already making a list of people she needed to talk to in her head.

The room grew quiet now that she was gone, the facts slowly anchoring themselves in their brains as reality.

“We are going to be parents.”, Eren finally said.

“So it would seem.”, Mikasa agreed in a whisper.

“And you are going to be a Shogun.”

“Yes.”

Turning around he pulled her into a hug that would be bone-crushing if used on anyone that wasn’t Mikasa Ackerman. She didn’t complain in the slightest, clutching to him with strength that squeezed the air out of Eren’s lungs.

“We are going to make it.”, he claimed, only for the statement to waver at the end, “Are we?”

She nodded against his chest, once again taking refuge in the beating of his heart.

“One thing at a time.”

The next ten days were one of the most chaotic that Mikasa ever lived through, and keep in mind that she was a survivor of not only a titan war but also an apocalypse. Kiyomi was a hyperactive bee, buzzing between the other council members and her at such speed that Eren wondered if she ever rested.

She didn’t.

There was hundred and one traditions Mikasa had to learn for the coronation process, a thousand dresses to try out, and million visits where she had to accompany Kiyomi while she convinced yet another noble that the ceremony should take place as soon as possible.

“If planning a wedding is anything like this,”, she hissed to Eren one day during the short break she had, shoveling food into her mouth “Then I’m never marrying you.”

“We are married already, did you forget?”, he grumbled from behind the mask that was his day-to-day accessory now, “Night under a tree, rings of grass, cracked bed frame… all that.”

“I wish this ceremony could also be made by weaving together a few blades. Do you think that I should ask Kiyomi about that?”

He chuckled.

“You can try.”

No, Kiyomi was not amused, and no, grass was out of the question. Very well.

Eren shadowed her almost everywhere, as a Faceless guard he was permitted to even the most private meetings. The other, true members of the order, didn’t give him any problems either, being exactly as obedient as Kiyomi described them. If the future Shogun wanted a fake to protect her, they had no issue with that. The orders were absolute.

Worst case scenario – the girl gets assassinated and then a new Shogun will be chosen, one that will respect the proper Faceless guard and not a wannabee.

And finally, it was here, the day D, the grand happening. Mikasa’s body moved mechanically through the ritual – every motion was explained and trained hundred times over until Kiyomi was satisfied. Still, it was fairly difficult in the ornamental kimono she had to wear, the damn thing was so heavy that she almost tripped several times, despite all the practice. Having a skirt around her legs made Mikasa wish for a good pair of pants too, but gender wouldn’t save her here. The men of the council also wore very similar robes. It was a small price to pay for getting things in motion though, so Mikasa gritted her teeth and carried on.

Eren was there as well, of course, and so was Kiyomi. The old woman stood among the council members, looking exactly as important as her fellow nobles, while Eren was hiding in the shadows, one of a long line of Faceless who guarded this ceremony. It would not be disturbed by anyone or anything, they made sure of that, and the number of guards played right into Mikasa’s hands. She could hide her lover easily now, he was nothing but another mask in the line, here to give his life in defense of the new Shogun.

Instructed by a priest that was so ancient that his skin resembled wrinkled paper, she repeated the words told to her, she bowed where required, and stood tall when it was time to show strength. She prayed to gods she didn’t know and showed respect to ancestors whose names Mikasa couldn’t even pronounce.

Several times the priest stopped and shook the incense he carried left and right, filling the air with its sweet smell. The council members watched every step like hawks, and she could feel their nervousness. It was one thing to talk about a foreign woman being elected as the head of state, it was another one to see it happening in front of their eyes. Luckily, she was prepared and did everything exactly as was expected, following the script to the letter.

Yes, it was one big theatre performance, but that didn’t matter to Mikasa at all.

Because when she finally sat down on the throne and looked over the council members, gathered there in front of her, Mikasa felt a huge weight fall from her chest. Her fights were still far from over, one might say. The position she was put in was anything but secure. Her pregnancy would complicate things, as would the fact that she had no intention of letting the nobles jerk her around. Eren's existence would have to be kept secret, same as the fatherhood of her child, and…

No, there would be time and place to worry about these things, and it was not now. One thing at a time, Kiyomi said, and Mikasa agreed with those words. The old woman was on her side, she had Eren right behind her, and a whole new culture to discover, one that her mother originated from. And as she adjusted her position on the throne, Mikasa Ackerman – the new ruler of Hizuru and the first female Shogun in the history of that nation – did that one thing that happened so rarely in her life.

Mikasa smiled - This was a beginning of a new adventure for them all.

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