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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

#bnha 292 #best jeanist #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #hadou nejire #toogata mirio #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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hotdogct · 3 years

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as dreamers do ||| n.jm

pairing: na jaemin x reader genre: fluff words: 2.2k a/n: hello!!! this is my first piece of writing in a very long time, so apologies if its all over the place/makes no sense!!! obviously this is all a work of fiction, disclaimer, blablabla, idk what i’m doing i just wanted to write drabbles about nct lmao, so with that being said!!!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you trust me?”

You roll your eyes in the direction of your coworker, Jaemin, who was sitting across from you in the fluorescent lit break room located just behind Splash Mountain’s gift shop and exit. The two of you were part of the massive workforce of college aged youth that Disney recruited every year to staff their theme parks and resorts. While you weren’t initially thrilled with your role as a custodian, you learned to appreciate its quirks - and that included the unique cast of characters otherwise known as your coworkers. From the full-timers that did their best to ignore your presence, knowing another semester would just bring a fresh wave of new faces, to your fellow program cohorts - Jaemin being one of them.

Assuming he was just quoting Aladdin at you, you offer no response to Jaemin’s initial query and continue scrolling through your phone, shoveling the few remaining cheese crackers from the nearby vending machine down your throat, intending on savoring the remaining minutes of your last break for the evening.

Your thoughts wandered back to your fellow cast members. There was Daehwi, sheltered and away from home for the first time, affectionately nicknamed ‘baby’ by everyone he befriended. Wendy, with her melodic voice and cheerful disposition, eager to break into song at a moments notice. Lucas, who might’ve come to Florida to party first, but worked equally hard. Hani, who arrived a few weeks after you, always the first to come help when you radio that your restroom has overflowed, again. Even Jinho, who had initially fooled you with his youthful looks before revealing this was his third time through the program, had somehow wormed his way into your heart. But nobody had been as captivating as Jaemin. When you first met him in passing in the cramped break room, you were convinced casting had made a mistake, that he was lost on his way to costuming for entertainment. He certainly looked like a prince - perfectly straight teeth, boyishly handsome good looks. A few days later he was assigned to clean the same bathrooms as you - “bathroom buddies” as everyone affectionately would call the practice. There, in the shared stockrooms, you learned who Jaemin was beyond his beautiful face - how his friends back home called him Nana, that he was studying photography in college, that he was an only child, a helluva flirt. Even your music tastes were similar, a fact you discovered on one of the many cramped, late night bus rides back to program housing where the two of you stood packed shoulder to shoulder, like sardines in a can. Jaemin interacted with guests both young and young at heart with an effortless charm and grace. Your managers loved him immediately, and before you knew it, you found yourself incredibly enamored with him too.

It wasn’t until his hand suddenly broke through your field of vision, blocking sight of your phone, that you realized Jaemin had stood up and was now standing directly in front of you. His head covered the harshest of the overhead lights, casting a soft halo glow around his black, messy hair and broad shoulders. He smiles down at you, innocently, and you feel your heartbeat accelerate when your eyes meet his own.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, again. This time, without thought, you place your hand firmly in his.

******

Jaemin leads you out of the blinding light of the break room silently, into the dark of the early winter evening. Eyes still adjusting, you follow behind him, thankful that your corner of the park was mostly deserted - Splash Mountain still closed for the season, only a few stragglers were coming and going to use the restroom in the area. You vaguely remember that Jaemin had been assigned a nearby zone to clean that evening - which was it again…?

He leads you up a flight up stairs, then, and that’s when it hits you. Train Zone. The Frontierland Railroad Station. It was an easy zone to clean, as the railroad shut down early each night before the fireworks display. Gathering the trash in an empty zone like this was a godsend, especially when compared to the other ride queues you had to clean, oftentimes fighting constant guest traffic like a fish swimming upstream.

Lost in your thoughts, you follow behind Jaemin as he completes his task diligently, making sure each trash can within the train station is empty and re-bagged for the next morning. It had been a few days since the two of you had worked in neighboring areas, and you often found yourself tongue tied when around him. The background music loop of Frontierland was noticeably absent, the speakers within the station shut off for the night. This led to Jaemin singing nonsense songs while tying up trash bags and wiping down surfaces, dancing lightly on his feet.

Turkey leg-g-g

At the train

D-d-d-driving me insane~

All you could do was laugh at his antics, and before you knew it, the nearby banana boat parked at the exit ramp was full of trash bags. Satisfied with the results of your hard work, you were about to begin the walk to backstage, where the dumpsters were located, when Jaemin turned about face, walking instead towards the train station.

“What are you doing?!” you hiss, not wanting to shout but needing to stress your confusion at his actions. Jaemin stops at the gate, unlatches it, before turning around, beckoning you over with a smile.

“I asked you if you trusted me, didn’t I?” his voice low in your ear upon your arrival at his side, banana boat now parked safely out of any guest traffic. Jaemin unlocks the gate for you, both of you falling silent on your walk back up into the depths of the train station - no more cute, silly songs spilling from his lips.

“Are you sure we aren’t going to get caught?” your voice carries louder than intended across the empty room as you go through the turnstile, and you wince.

Jaemin’s boisterous laugh took you by surprise, followed a moment later by his hand ruffling the top of your head, messing up your hair. As if to say, foolish.

“Getting the trash from up here is technically our responsibility. So what if it took us a little long?”

He was right - the best part of your job was the agency it provided. Sure, you were cleaning up garbage and bathrooms and vomit, but you could walk around freely. Explore hidden corners and crevices of the park. You knew all too well the allures of the shared hallway between the Frontierland restrooms, the stock closet next to the Veranda breezeway, the dumpster behind the Haunted Mansion - places the rest of your desperately horny coworkers had used to hook up in weeks prior. As you follow Jaemin around a corner towards the front of the station, through an open passageway, you wonder if that’s what he has in mind. That is, until you see the view in front of you.

Jaemin had led you to a small balcony that overlooked the whole expanse of Frontierland. From above you could spot guests walking about the park to and fro, the Rivers of America flowing gently behind them in the distance. Bits and pieces of Cinderella’s Castle were visible through the tree line, shining bright in multicolor as the nightly projection show proceeded to play.

“Jaem, it’s….”

“Nice, isn’t it?” He finishes your thought for you, his hand brushing over the staged decorations of fake barrels and crates against the wall of the balcony that seemed perfect to sit upon. Moments later, Jaemin plops down with a satisfied smile on his face and pats the space beside him, silently asking you to join him.

“Nice is an understatement” you offer in reply. A small laugh leaves his lips, a breeze rolls through. For just a moment, it is quiet and still.

“I’ve been wanting to show you this place for a while, but the stars just never aligned right until tonight.”

“You mean, the computer system that automates scheduling and staffing didn’t randomly place us in neighboring areas of the park until to-” Jaemin’s stiff elbow into your side lets you know to drop the wit. That you could do, but a question lingered in your mind, still, and you did have to voice your sole concern.

“How do you not get caught up here?”

Jaemin turns around, points to the solitary light on the balcony, and it’s then that you notice the bulb is off. You might feel exposed looking down upon everyone, but quickly realize that nobody is looking up at the closed train station - let alone looking for two cast members in white uniforms in the dark, goofing off on a weeknight.

Fooling around…

You were thankful for the cover of darkness in that moment, as you felt your cheeks turn crimson at the thought. Being alone, with Jaemin, this close, in the dark...This all seemed very sudden, despite everyone knowing about your big crush on Nana - he had to know too?

“So,” Jaemin’s voice cuts through your ever-racing thoughts, and your chest goes cold. “A little birdie told me there’s something you really, really like…”

If jumping off the balcony was a safe option, in that moment, you would’ve taken it. A confirmation of your worst fears - that Jaemin was aware of your ridiculous, schoolgirl like crush on him. You are speechless, sunken, pulse racing, and terrified.

Without the usual cue of area music, caught up in the last hour, you had missed your usual clues. A loud boom caused you to jump in your seat, out of your brain, head immediately turning towards Jaemin - only to make eye contact with him, bright lights reflecting off the surface, who smiles and motions for you to turn around. Of course.

If you were known for one thing amongst your cohorts, it was that you loved fireworks. Even on the most hectic of nights you found a way to make sure you were outside during the nightly display, never taking for granted that you were being paid to watch the sky light up in time to music. You had your favorite spots to watch from, but had never once considered the train station. From the corner of Frontierland, it felt like the fireworks were almost on top of you - cascading down upon Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, the expanse of empty night sky providing the perfect canvas. As the speakers above you were silent, there was no accompanying soundtrack, but it didn’t matter - you knew the whole show by heart. You were unaware of how long your mouth had been hanging open in blissful, childlike wonder, only noticing when Jaemin gently pressed his finger up against your chin, closing the space between your upper and lower lip through simple momentum. Moments later, his hand brushed over yours, testing the waters, and finding no complaint, interlocked his fingers with yours, and gravity pulls your head to his shoulder. A soft, steady hum leaves his lips, as you settle into this newfound bliss.

The rest of the fireworks show plays out in front of the two of you - two white ghosts in a dark shadow, illuminated by glowing streaks and bursts of color from the night sky. You’re working at the most magical place on earth, sure, but this felt like the most magical moment of your life.

Before you know it, the sky calms again, signaling the end of the show. You remain frozen for a moment, not wanting to leave. When you finally stand back up, awkwardly untangling yourself from Jaemin’s frame in a rushed manner, you can almost feel yourself floating back down to the ground, back to reality. Jaemin, your co-worker, Jaemin the flirt. He brought you up here just to watch the fireworks after all. Had you been a bit more outgoing, a bit less awkward, maybe...

Taking a few steps towards the entryway, a sudden hand on your wrist pulls you against the wall - thankfully, out of sight of any guests, but now engulfing your entire body in shadow. And it’s here in the darkness that Jaemin’s hand releases itself from your wrist, finds its way up to your cheek. Here, he leans in and kisses you - pressing his chapped lips against yours gently, but with enough intent and purpose that you swear you were seeing stars after a few moments. It doesn’t last long, as all fairytales would tell you. When you part, Jaemin rests his forehead against yours, both slightly damp from the Florida humidity, and you can feel him smile against you, somehow breathless, letting out a low chuckle, before asking,

“Did you think I was talking about the fireworks?”

#na jaemin #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream #nct fluff #jaemin #nct scenarios #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin fic #jaemin fic #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff

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mssleepy876b · 3 years

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Family Ties- Chapter 1

summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers

word count: 1798

warnings: domestic violence

a/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 1

She stumbled to her feet from the side of the road where she had fallen a moment ago feeling the sting on her legs and hands. She looked and saw in the distance a nearby building. Her head pounded in pain in time with her heartbeat which she could feel pounding in her chest. ‘I need help. Need to hide. I can’t let him find me. He’ll kill me if he does.’ Her thoughts rushing through her mind as she tried to clear her vision of the tears dropping from her eyes. She hugged her arms around her own upper body as she tried to push through the pain and fear.

A brightly lit building came into focus as she turned a corner and she saw numerous vehicles in front. She stumbled towards the door as her body ached from the fall and the hits she had taken. A man with green eyes saw her first as she tried to call out for help. He must have seen her injuries as he came running to her. Her voice filled her ears thru the pounding pain as she felt the tears fall from her eyes again, “Help me please. Don’t let him find me.” She said as the world around her began to turn black feeling the weakness take over her body from the pain causing her body to shiver in the warm night air. His scent filled her nose as he came close making her finally feel safe and protected.

His voice filled her ears as she felt her body begin to fall. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He said as his eyes met hers and she felt strong arms hold her in them finally as her body was giving in to the darkness surrounding her vision.

************************************************************************

She woke up later to find herself in a white room and alone. Her fears raced through her mind. ‘Did he find me? Oh, God. The man who helped me, did he get hurt?’ She felt her heart racing as well as her head pounded to match her heart rate causing her to groan in pain. An alarm caught her off guard making her shriek. A woman with dark hair entered and she was dressed in red medical scrubs. She put her hands up seeing the fear filling her patient’s eyes. “Shh. It’s okay. You are safe. You collapsed at the 21stDistrict. They brought you here to Chicago Med. You’re in the Emergency Department right now.” The new woman said to her. “My name is Dr. Natalie Manning. I am here to help you. I know you were hurt by someone based on your injuries. But I promise that you are safe. The Intelligence unit is going to take care of you. The man who caught you is Detective Halstead. He heard your comments. He wants to help you.”

“I remember a set of Green Eyes. They made me feel safe. I had to get away, had to get safe. He would do worse if he found me. Never wanted me out of his sight or not following his orders. We fought. Before, he had thrown things but never hurt me. He hit me this time. I’m afraid he’ll kill me if he finds me this time.” She said as she began to cry feeling Natalie take her hand trying to make her feel safe. She could feel the motherly empathy that Natalie seemed to exude making her calm down and feel safe.

A new man entered the room, he spoke to Dr. Manning. “What do we have, Dr. Manning?” his southern drawl evident but still he and Natalie noticed the woman curling away from him after jumping when he entered and the monitor showing her heart rate was alerting to a higher rate.

Dr. Manning quickly spoke, “Dr. Marcell, I have things here if you could step out please.” She said firmly keeping the patient’s hand in hers trying to keep her calm. Natalie watched as her patient’s heart rate settled once Dr. Marcell had left. “It’s okay. You are worried about new men which makes sense with what you just shared. I will make sure that we keep that in mind and put a note in your chart and I will share with our nurses. No one new unless we introduce them to you by someone you know first. Do you want to meet Detective Halstead and his partner Detective Upton?”

“Is his partner a man?” the woman asked quietly.

“No, her name is Hailey. They helped bring you here. I would not let them hurt you, I promise. Jay’s, or Detective Halstead’s, brother is actually a doctor here too and I trust both of them. Okay?” Natalie said to her in a calming tone.

“Okay. I’ll see the detectives.” She said picking nervously at the blanket in front of her. “Dr. Manning, my name is Brielle Jacobs. I prefer Brie though, Dr. Manning.”

“Okay. I promise that they will help you, Brie, Okay?” Natalie said to her smiling.

Natalie went to the door and called out, “She’s awake, Jay. Be cautious. She confirmed that someone did hurt her. She is nervous about new people, men specifically. For some reason, she said you make her feel safe.”

Brie watched as the man with the Green Eyes entered with a shorter Blonde woman with him. She approached first. “My name is Hailey, Detective Upton. Do you remember who hurt you? Do you remember your name, where you live?” she said spouting off questions quickly.

“Hailey. Slow down.” Jay said firmly seeing Brie get concerned and coil back toward the pillows behind her. He approached Brie’s side slowly. “Hi. I’m Detective Jay Halstead. You collapsed outside our station. You said you needed help, that someone was trying to hurt you. Do you remember that?” he said slowly his eyes meeting hers again.

Brie sighed looking into his eyes making her feel comfortable and safe again. “Yes. I remember saying I needed help. It is one of the few things I remember before I woke up here. My name is Brielle Jacobs. Call me Brie please.” She watched as he moved to sit next to her. He took her hand in his and she spoke again. “My fiancé Michael DiLeone. He did this. He had never hit me before. We met so soon after I arrived in Chicago. He treated me so well at first. I never noticed how he isolated me, kept me from my family, controlled my life, had me watched. I don’t know what he was involved with or still in, but it was wrong or feels that way. His guards were always around. He gave me orders all the time that were to be followed. I was scared of him. He had thrown things in our home before but never hit me until now.” She said her hand trembling in his.

Detective Halstead spoke again softly. “Where did you live Brie?”

“In Hyde Park. The house is in Michael’s family’s name. They are all in the same business, I guess. His family is Italian. His mother just follows his father’s orders. It is like tradition or something. Michael’s uncle Angelo is the head or patriarch of the family.” She said looking down at the blanket. “Michael’s going to be furious that I am talking to you. Police and doctors are enemies in Michael’s mind. And I’m not home. He will be enraged.” She said getting quieter as he started to feel her hand as it shook in his.

Hailey spoke softly next trying to give comfort to Brielle. “We already have a protective order waiting to be filled out for you, Brielle. We just needed your name and who hurt you to add to it.” She said coming closer calmer than before understanding more Brie’s fears. “Our Sergeant is a man by the name of Hank Voight. He is determined to help you get safe. Our unit is one of the best in the city. We will keep you safe.” Brie nodded at Hailey’s words.

Brie felt her eyes grow heavy as her body grew sleepy as her medication reduced her pain and her fear of being alone set in and found by Michael rose. She shook her head fighting the sleep. “No, I can’t sleep. He’ll find me. Have to stay awake.” She said drowsily as Jay and Hailey listened.

She felt the pressure of Jay’s hand in hers redirecting her focus on him. “It’s okay. Go to sleep if you need to Brie. I will get 2 female officers posted outside of your door from our precinct. Only those people that you say are okay or that Dr. Manning says are okay will be allowed in with you, okay?” he said to her reassuring her as she lay back on the pillows behind her.

“Will you stay until I am asleep? For some reason, I feel safe with you.” Brie asked him sighing slightly. He nodded and he watched as her eyes began to close as her body curled towards him.

He felt her hold tighter to his hand, but he turned to Hailey not letting go keeping his word to Brie. “Can you go call the information in, Hailey? We need that protective order fast and we need to get it served now. DiLeone’s uncle doesn’t play around. If she has run from them, she is definitely not safe. That family is Old World Style Mafia. Brielle is right about being in danger. We have to help get her out.” He said to her. “Call Platt, ask for two female officers to sit with her.”

“You got it, Jay.” Hailey said stepping out of the room pulling her cell from her pocket.

Natalie looked at Jay’s face as he looked over Brie’s lightly sleeping form. “Are you okay, Jay?” she asked.

“This kind of cruelty makes me furious, Natalie. She said she had just come to Chicago when she met him. He snapped her up before she had a support system. He controlled her life. She is terrified and no one, no woman or child deserves that kind of fear.” He said as Brie turned in her sleep towards his voice.

“I agree, Jay. And it is only by some kind of miracle that she did get away and she found you. She must have a guardian angel on her shoulder. If she hadn’t come for treatment or been found by him again, who knows what could have happened.” Natalie said sighing. “I need to go talk to Maggie about the special orders here. She needs women around her at first. Ensure that she starts to feel safe as she heals.” She said slipping out the door.

#jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines

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osamiiya · 4 years

Text

From Me, the Moon

Pairings: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Cussing, Angst, cheating, mature themes, not nsfw but there’s mention of it.

A/n: My first attempt at angst! This is also based off the lyrics of Lav’s “From Me, the Moon”. Yes I know it’s from a girl to another girl, but I like the lyrics and I’m in no way trying to make the song straight. I just got the idea for the fic.

Summary: It’s been two years since Bakugou kissed her, two years since he broke your heart.

Your apartment is quiet as you set your keys in the key bowl.

Two years, and you still look the same

It’s been quiet for two years now, feelings you thought were pushed away from countless nights crying on Mina, Uraraka, and Momo’s shoulders, and nursing a beer at a random bar, not caring who took you home that night, empty sex with nameless faces, always gone before 7. Until he showed up at your work.

‘He still wore his ring’ You noted, mentally scoffing.

Wide blinking eyes look at me the same way. Do my lips take you back to June? Do my lips make you miss me too?

'He kept staring.’ you think as you take your shoes off.

A typical Monday, you were just writing down appointments, the same forced charming smile plastered on your face as people came in booking appointments to meet with a lawyer. Shuddering when be you caught his wide eyes, flicking from your eyes to your lips, bright vermilion, a colour that he would often kiss off of you.

When he approached you cleared your throat, acting as if you never knew him.

“How can I help you?”

“Tell me if I’m too late. If all those years are all gone.”

“I’m sorry sir, if you aren’t here to book an appointment I’m going to have to ask you to kindly leave the line.” You don’t miss the way his voice cracks as he books an appointment.

“Who does he think he is.” You fume, beer and opener in hand.

“Tell me if I’m too late. If all those years are all gone” You mock, talking to your refrigerator.

Two years ago

Four years. Dating for three, engaged for one, but it felt like longer, mutual feelings for each other since you could remember. Shy glances in the hallways, stolen kisses in between classes. Never becoming official because, well, “Once I become a hero and can buy her the prettiest ring”.

And he did. Hell, it was the week before the wedding the pretty diamond sitting happily on your left hand. As you prepared for the wedding. Dress, flowers, venue, invitations. The wedding preparations taking up all your time, he never even bothered to help. Claiming he had “work”.

Maybe he was stressed about the wedding, God knows you were stressing about it too.

Fiddling with your ring as you parked into the driveway, he’d enjoy you home early wouldn’t he?

You ignored the way Bakugou began to pull away emotionally, at first, then physically.

Only an empty “I love you” and a quick kiss on the cheek as he left in the morning.

He got home late and went straight to bed.

No, he still loved you. You don’t marry someone you don’t love.

Yes, the two of you were “grossly in love” as Mina would put it. It’s just the honeymoon phase that ended.

'He would be back to normal after the wedding.’

You turn the knob to the front door. The air smells of sex and alcohol, and there’s voices from the bedroom that are too real to be porn.

The previous pounding in your heart stops. There’s tv static in your ears and it’s hard to breathe.

Your legs are on autopilot, walking the same route to the bedroom as you always have, the smell thicker here, and the sounds louder.

Your right hand is shaking as you take the ring off your left hand, it feels hot, like it’s burning into your skin.

You open the door, and it feels like a punch to the face. Red eyes snapping onto yours, wide and filled with fear. He’s not wearing the ring.

The girl starts sobbing with apologies, she sees the ring in your hand.

Your heart feels too big for your chest, and your face goes numb, you can’t even feel the tears that started to fall.

“I’m home.” You whisper.

It’s like a spell is broken when you drop the ring on the floor, your body moving on autopilot as you briskly walk to the front door, not stopping as you grab your coat and keys.

“Y/n!” You’re halfway to your car when he grabs your arm.

He’s sweaty, and the smell of another girl’s perfume is overwhelming, you feel like throwing up. He hasn’t bothered to put on a shirt, he must have haphazardly thrown on a pair of sweats.

The dark marks on his torso and the red scratches down his arms and what you can assume are also on his back are angry and red.

“You don’t understand-”

A smile makes its way onto your face, it’s sad, and only a shadow of the bright ones that make Bakugou’s heart squeeze.

“I’m sorry.” You’re still smiling, but now your lips are shaking and it looks way to forced as tears speed down your face.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.” You gently take your arm our of his grip, and Bakugou feels like his chest is too small for his heart.

“I don’t blame you.” You’re voice is shakey and you’re wiping tears slower than they’re coming down.

“I don’t blame you, but Jesus Christ Bakugou, it hurts.” It’s a stab to the chest for Bakugou, what happened to Katsuki, Suki? Bubba?

“Oh god, Bakugou it hurts” You’re openly sobbing now. Chest heaving with shudders, as your legs give out, and you’re on the floor.

“Y/n we can talk about this- I love you.” His voice cracks as he runs his hands through his hair, he looks so vulnerable as his hands shake, scared to reach out and touch you, but he needs to hold you.

“The ring is in the house.” You’re wiping your nose, sobbing in the driveway.

“Take it with you as you go.” Bakugou finds himself nodding, why is he nodding? He needs to fight for you, he’s crying, eyes bloodshot as tears run down his face.

“Don’t leave me, I need you.” He sounds broken, like a child who’s lost everything. And to Bakugou? He has.

You find yourself nodding 'no’, your body is tired and the tears have stopped falling.

“I’m tired 'suki.” Bakugou sobs harder.

“I hope it was worth it Bakugou. I hope that you enjoyed the 4 years as much as I have.”

Bakugou’s like a broken record, sobbing and shaking his head as he whispers 'no.“

'It was a mistake’ He thinks 'I don’t love her, only you.’ He wants to scream for you to hear, but the tired face and scraped hands that you hold together make his throat squeeze, it’s hard to speak and it’s hard to breathe.”

You lean over to him, kissing him on the cheek, your lips tasting salty from his tears.

“Have a good life with her ok? She must be pretty special for you to choose her.”

And then you’re getting in your car, body numb and on autopilot as you drive to Mina’s. Screaming and sobbing as she cries with you, seeing you in pain too much for her.

A few weeks later, like a stab to the heart you walked into an empty apartment. The air smelled of bleach and cleaning product.

Maybe it was for the best.

You walked into the bedroom, hoping that the last week’s we’re all a nightmare, but the bed’s gone, thank goodness, and his part of the closet is empty, a letter in the middle of the floor.

Your heart constricts as you read it, no, not from Bakugou, but from a girl named Uraraka. The page is blotches with tears, as she writes about meeting him, he approached her and they began dating. He kept the closets shut, and the bathroom was clear of any women’s products. Even the pads under the sink had an explanation connecting to his friend.

She writes about how she never questioned it, too infatuated with the rugged charming guy. Who insulted you but made you feel like the sun.

She wrote her number, claiming she broke it off with him, blocking him after screaming his ear off. She wants to have coffee sometime. She knows it’s not totally her fault, and it’s sure as hell not yours.

Which brings you to now, becoming close friends with her, introducing her to a single friend of yours. Midoriya, who treats her like she hung the stars.

A knock at your door brings you out of your thoughts, the beer in your hand warmer now, the condensation dripping down the bottle and onto the floor.

“Coming!” You call, wiping your hands on a towel, the door opens to Bakugou.

You close the door as soon as you open it. Locking the door as you hear protests from the other side.

Do you still keep counting my sins? Will your heart ever forgive my skin?

“How much longer are you going to avoid talking.”

You hear a thump on the door that has to be his head.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

You open the door.

“Bakugou, I’ve moved on.” lie “I’ve found someone else for me.” lie, they’re all lies to protect your heart.

How many more first kisses?

How many more first kisses? Are you gonna watch me pick up the pieces? I know you miss the furrow in my brows. And I could be in your arms now

“I’m sorry, it was a mistake, It didn’t mean anything.”

You look the same Bakugou confirms. Hair a little longer, and face a little more tired, but still beautiful, still his y/n.

“I still love you.” He reaches his arm out to you.

“You hurt me Bakugou, and I’ve moved on. I meant what I said that night.” You’re smiling, it’s bittersweet, but you don’t think you’re going to cry.

“No, I can’t find anyone better than you, you’re the best thing to ever happen and I was a dumbass to think that girl was worth it.”

Your smile becomes slightly strained.

“Uraraka and I are really good friends now, I suppose I have you to thank.”

Bakugou’s eyes are wide.

“It’s been two years Bakugou, you don’t get to suddenly appear and spout nonsense like it’ll fix what is beyond repair.”

Tell me if the years are all gone. Is the moon still in love with the sun? Do you still keep counting my sins? And how do I win?

“Neither of us can fix this Bakugou.” You sigh, a hand rubbing your temples, trying to fight the oncoming headache.

“I still love you Bakugou.” You sigh, no more lying.

“Then we can-” Bakugou starts.

“But my heart is terrified of getting hurt again. I think I’ll always love you. I don’t think I can stop. And truthfully? You were everything to me, and from the moment you kissed her, it all came crashing down around me. The home I built in your agressive nature, the plans I had for the wedding, our whole future. It just came crashing down.” Bakugou stands there silently.

“I thought I was going to die, my heart hurt so badly.” You sigh, wanting to get back to your beer warming up on the counter.

“That’s why Bakugou, it has to be over. It has to or all the work I spent building up myself after that will be for nothing. I didn’t cry myself to sleep to crawl back into your arms at your call.”

“Thanks for coming by, and thanks for letting me love you.”

With that the door was closed, and the final part of your broken heart healed.

To the first boy who lit me a flame. Does your heart still remember my name?

#Oh God looking back at this #Its terrible im so sorry #bakugou angst #?#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #mha bakugou #mha angst #katsuki x reader #tw cheating

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

What if instead of being his dad Wen Ruohan was his grandfather. And one of his sons had sizhui.

also on ao3 because long

Nie Mingjue staggered a little after he stormed off, the adrenaline rush of fury – at Meng Yao’s betrayal, his many betrayals, at Lan Xichen for accepting Meng Yao’s explanations at face value, at himself for not being able to do what he probably should – all fading away into exhaustion and pain.

It was at that point that he acknowledged that, in his anger, he had probably made a mistake by storming off in the first place – even with Baxia in hand, even with Wen Ruohan finally dead, Nie Mingjue really shouldn’t walking around alone in the Sun Palace.

He was injured, and heavily so; any Wen that wanted could probably take him down. A strong wind could probably take him down.

Still, it wasn’t as if his pride would permit him to go back and ask Lan Xichen to leave Meng Yao’s side for long enough to notice that a man he’d called friend for over a decade had been rather brutally tortured for several days and could very much use some medical assistance - apparently, tending to the injuries to Meng Yao’s ego after Nie Mingjue had shouted at him about the fact that he’d murdered people was more important.

So Nie Mingjue kept on going, lifting his sleeve to try to wipe the blood out of his eyes.

It didn’t work very well, mostly because there wasn’t much space left on his sleeve that wasn’t already covered in blood, and it only ended up making it worse.

On a whim, he turned towards the corridor where he knew from experience years before that the Wen clan’s rooms were located, thinking only that he might be able to find a sheet or some spare clothing to use to wipe his face clean.

He found something different.

The Wen cultivator was only a boy, around the same age as Nie Huaisang; his knees shook and his eyes were white all around the edges in his terror. The colors of his robes suggested he was surnamed Wen but of low status, and while there was a sword at his belt, it looked as fresh and unused as Nie Huaisang’s saber.

Instead of wielding it, he was clutching a small child, a year or two old at most, to his chest.

Nie Mingjue stared, and the boy stared back.

“These are the rooms for the main family,” Nie Mingjue said after a moment of silence, and the boy blanched, inadvertently confirming his suspicions. “Whose child is that?”

“Please don’t kill us,” the boy said, lip quivering. “Or don’t – just don’t kill him. A-Yuan didn’t do anything.”

“Whose child is that?” Nie Mingjue repeated. “Wen Xu’s?”

He couldn’t imagine it being Wen Chao’s, though he supposed it was theoretically possible.

The boy nodded reluctantly. “I wasn’t planning on telling him anything about that,” he offered. “He wouldn’t need to know…”

“That I killed his father?” Nie Mingjue asked, arching his eyebrows, then shook his head, dismissing the entire thing. If a child grew up and wanted revenge for his father, he of all people wouldn’t stop him from trying no matter how little Wen Xu deserved the honor; he could deal with the problem whenever it arose. “I’m not going to kill you. Either of you – what’s your name?”

“Wen Ning – ah, Qionglin. You’re not going to..?”

Nie Mingjue nodded at the sword at his waist. “Tell me, Wen Qionglin. Have you ever used that?”

“Uh, I fly sometimes? Not well, though,” Wen Ning said, looking confused. “What does – oh.”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, feeling like the point had been made.

Wen Ning clearly did not agree, still looking lost and not a little terrified.

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue clarified dryly. “I am not going to kill you. There’s no battle happening right now, so killing you would be the same as killing a civilian, and unlike your sect, we don’t do that. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“Anything else?”

“Wen Xu had neither a wife nor a concubine,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’m making an assumption, but given the child’s age, the timing…and the fact that that child has the look of a Lan.”

Wen Ning winced again and bowed his head. “His mother was taken against her will from the Cloud Recesses after Wen Xu burned it,” he confirmed in a quiet voice. “She – she committed suicide, not long after the birth.”

Nie Mingjue sighed. He’d been right, then; this child was one of the many remnants of war.

He thought, for a moment, of calling Lan Xichen over to tell him that he had a cousin lingering here. Surnamed Wen, of course, and that would be a hard burden for the child to bear growing up, but the child was still Lan blood; Lan Xichen would take him back to Gusu in a heartbeat.

Of course, Lan Xichen was still with Meng Yao – calling one would bring the other. Meng Yao, who had just killed Nie cultivators that Nie Mingjue had known his whole life and blamed him for not understanding why he just had to do it, even though he knew Wen Ruohan would be dead soon, and Lan Xichen, who defended him without a second thought, without giving a chance for Nie Mingjue to explain his grievances, without trusting him to have a reason for his anger…

Meng Yao, who had sent them letters with information – sent Lan Xichen letters with information.

The same information that had led Nie Mingjue into the trap at Yangquan, which had led him to the Sun Palace, where Wen Ruohan couldn’t wait to see him kneeling before his throne, where Meng Yao had used that moment of inattention, focused on Nie Mingjue’s pain, to stab the man in the back –

Where Lan Xichen had come so conveniently quickly after the death was accomplished.

Had Lan Xichen known what Meng Yao was planning? Had he known what he was sending Nie Mingjue into?

Had he known and decided not to tell him?

(Nie Mingjue would have gone willingly, if they’d told him. Being captured as nothing, the torture was nothing, he would bear it all a thousand times over if it meant that he would see Wen Ruohan’s death. But he would have only taken volunteers with him, men prepared to accept death, and not – not as it was.)

For what might be the first time in his life, Nie Mingjue felt a momentary pang of distrust in Lan Xichen’s judgment.

“If you find yourself in need of help with the child, come to my Nie sect,” he finally said, a compromise with himself. He’d normally offer a token of some sort, but he didn’t have any on him; they had all been taken away long ago. “You’re both surnamed Wen, so you’ll probably end up in a prisoner of war camp at first, and then get resettled, but if it ends up being too hard, you can tell them to ask for me…and if I’m not around for whatever reason, ask for Lan Wangji. He’s reasonable and righteous, as well as discreet. He won’t turn you down.”

Wen Ning nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sect Leader. Thank you.”

Nie Mingjue waved a hand at him, nose wrinkling as he felt the blood start dripping down his forehead again. “You should leave first. Get far away from here, before anyone else makes the connection I did.”

Wen Ning began to go, then hesitated. “Do you need medical assistance, Sect Leader Nie? I know a little…”

“I’ve been in Wen Ruohan’s custody since Yangquan,” Nie Mingjue said, and Wen Ning blanched; at least he realized what that meant, even if, somehow, Lan Xichen didn’t. “‘A little’ isn’t going to help.”

“You probably shouldn’t be walking around if you’ve got broken bones,” Wen Ning said anxiously. “Or burns. Or deep cuts. Or, uh –”

“Wen Qionglin.”

“…yes?”

“Take the child and go.”

Eventually Lan Xichen had found him, furious at the apparently belated realization that Nie Mingjue had not gone straight back to his camp for medical help – as if Nie Mingjue would know where their camp was, given that he hadn’t been told anything – but the evidence of his concern helped ease Nie Mingjue’s fears.

He was aware it probably shouldn’t – he still believed there was no reason for those Nie cultivators to die, believed that Meng Yao could have offered to send them away to the Fire Palace the way he had done later when he wanted to preserve Nie Mingjue’s life – but he couldn’t help himself. Between his temper, his position, and his reticent personality, he had many admirers but almost no close friends, and so he treasured the ones he had like gold. The thought of breaking with Lan Xichen left ashes in his mouth.

In fact, if one looked at it a certain way, Lan Xichen might be the only friend he had left – he’d had others, growing up, but they’d become distant after he became Sect Leader, the impossible barrier between them, and even more distant once he’d become war leader, responsible for their lives and deaths. He’d once thought he’d had another true friend in Meng Yao, but that was before he realized how many of their interactions had been staged with a deliberate goal in mind.

Before he realized that Meng Yao had never thought of him as anything other than a stepping stone.

And now Lan Xichen wanted them to become sworn brothers.

Nie Mingjue had been repulsed by the idea when he’d first broached it, only a day or two after the events in the Sun Palace. Becoming Lan Xichen’s sworn brother was nothing, but Meng Yao…? Before, maybe, but now…?

“A-Yao really did think he was doing the right thing,” Lan Xichen said, his eyes full of sincerity, and Nie Mingjue wondered when it’d become ‘A-Yao’. Lan Xichen didn’t even refer to Lan Wangji with such a term, though that might be more due to Lan Wangji being such a stickler for etiquette. “I know you think that he didn’t have to kill them, but he was the one who’d been there so long, who knew Wen Ruohan’s thinking – he couldn’t give up the opportunity we’d created at so much cost.”

The opportunity you created with my flesh and bones, Nie Mingjue wanted to say, but didn’t. He would have agreed if they’d ask, and surely that was the same as having agreed, wasn’t it? It would be petty to hold it against them.

It would be petty to continue feeling hurt.

“And his attack on me at Langya?” he asked, his arms crossed. “After having engaged in the premeditated murder of one of his own superiors?”

“It’s more complicated than just that,” Lan Xichen said. “There were reasons – you can’t look at things as just black and white, Mingjue-xiong.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure how planning to stab your own fellow soldiers in the back in a way designed to disguise their deaths as enemy casualties didn’t fall pretty firmly into the “unmitigated black” category.

Oh, sure, Meng Yao had reasons, he always had reasons! But even if there was abuse, Meng Yao had had other options – if no one at Langya would list, he could have written a letter to Nie Mingjue himself to lay out his grievances; Nie MIngjue had already been acting as the overall commander of the war by then, and even Jin Guangshan’s thick face, pretending he didn’t know who Meng Yao was or that he’d never seen any letter, wouldn’t stand up to a direct conversation.

There were other things Meng Yao could have done, and he pointed them out to Lan Xichen.

“That’s all the more reason you should swear brotherhood with the two of us,” Lan Xichen said, and he was in earnest; he had always been so very earnest. “As the eldest, you would have the opportunity to help teach A-Yao how to walk on the right path, even when he feels he’s trapped. You were such good friends with him in the past – you could be friends again!”

It sounded more like responsibility than opportunity, but in the end Nie Mingjue really had liked Meng Yao once, really had had faith in him, and maybe Lan Xichen was right; maybe there was a good man under there, twisted only by desperate circumstances.

So he did it, gave his good name to a man he wasn’t sure he could trust, and that was just another thing on top of everything else he had to do: there was a war to finish, bodies to bury, the Unclean Realm to rebuild, politics to manage…it was all a mess, and one he had to tackle alone.

It wasn’t until the celebration at Phoenix Mountain that he finally had a chance to put down his burdens, even if only for a little while.

“Meng Yao,” he said, because the name Jin Guangyao felt more like an insult on his tongue. “Can you find someone for me?”

Lan Xichen had asked him to think of things he could ask Meng Yao to do, insisting that it would help mend their relationship for Meng Yao to feel wanted rather than merely scolded.

“Find someone?” Jin Guangyao echoed, turning to look at him. “Of course, da-ge. You need only ask. I’m only surprised – you don’t often ask about people in specific.”

Nie Mingjue supposed that was true.

“You’re helping with the resettlement of the Wen civilians, aren’t you?” he asked.

The Jin sect had volunteered for the work, and it made sense: they were the wealthiest sect, capable of buying up land for the Wens to live on and paying for the wages of the men it would take to keep an eye on them until they could feel certain that they weren’t planning rebellion. It would be good for the Wen civilians to have some land where they could farm, an honest life they could lead, and it was probably better for them to live nearer to the Jin sect, which had suffered much less in the war, than risk anger elsewhere.

“One of them is named Wen Qionglin,” he continued when Jin Guangyao nodded. “Skinny, like you, but taller – maybe half a head. Big eyes.”

“He must be a rare man indeed for da-ge to notice his eyes,” Jin Guangyao teased, though there was some expression Nie Mingjue didn’t recognize in his eyes. It was almost dark, something possessive and angry, but that didn’t make any sense. Perhaps he was only still irritated at how badly his first major event for the Jin sect had gone.

Nie Mingjue had only mentioned the eyes because at the time it’d seemed as if they were wide enough to take up half of his face, the boy as skittish as a rabbit; he shrugged, not wanting to talk about it too much. He’d made a decision based on pain and anger, and he still didn’t know if it had been the right one.

“If you can find him for me, let me know where he is,” he said. “If you can’t, you can’t. It’s fine - I have other places I can look.”

In the end it hadn’t been Jin Guangyao who had found Wen Ning, but Wei Wuxian.

Nie Mingjue only heard about the whole disaster much later on – he’d assumed from Jin Guangyao’s silence that the boy had somehow managed to evade the Jin’s resettlement efforts and had turned to checking elsewhere.

He hadn’t been expecting to find him again as Wei Wuxian’s Ghost General.

That had been a shock, as had finding out about the boy’s identity –

“He’s Wen Qing’s brother,” Jin Guangyao told him, later. “She ran a Supervisory Office in Yiling, caring for prisoners to make sure they stayed alive pending interrogation – torture, really. He assisted her…did you really think he was just a civilian, da-ge? You really shouldn’t let yourself be so easily deceived by an innocent smile.”

– but in the end Nie Mingjue decided that it was still his responsibility to find out what had happened to the little Lan boy.

He went to Yiling.

There was a barrier at the bottom of the Burial Mounds that Nie Mingjue lightly touched with his saber – not enough to actually destroy it, which would cause a backlash, but enough to make the person who put it into place notice. It was little more than a means of knocking, really, but Wei Wuxian stormed down the mountain in an offended fury.

Perhaps Nie Mingjue had come on a bad day.

“You’re not welcome here,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m not handing over the Stygian Tiger Seal, or the Wens – I want to be left alone.”

“I only –”

“I’ve already separated from the Jiang sect and been condemned by the entire cultivation world; what more do you want?! I’ve had enough. Wen Ning, make sure he leaves.” With that, he turned on his heel and went right back up the mountain, leaving Nie Mingjue blinking.

Wen Ning shuffled forward. His face was flat, seeming almost cruel in its indifference, but Nie Mingjue suspected that was just the stiffness of death. “He won’t come back down,” he said.

“That’s fine,” Nie Mingjue said, still somewhat taken aback by the sheer level of rudeness. “I came here to speak to you, anyway.”

Wen Ning blinked. “…me?”

“I wanted to check up on you,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling abruptly very awkward – Wen Ning had died, after all, and in bad enough circumstances that he’d risen up again as a fierce corpse. He couldn’t even be sure that the fierce corpse, however conscious, was still the Wen Ning he’d been before he died; some rumors suggested it was something else moving the body, some tool or dreadful summons of Wei Wuxian’s. “And the child.”

There was a moment of silence, when Nie Mingjue began to wonder as well, but finally Wen Ning stirred and spoke again.

“…he’s doing all right,” he said, and there was a small smile on his face. “Wei-gongzi took A-Yuan down the mountain to the village recently and he got a whole bunch of toys; he’s been very happy.”

“I’m glad,” Nie Mingjue said, and felt rather stiff himself. “I should have done more for him, the first time we met. I regretted it later, but couldn’t find you.”

“You looked?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “When I was at the Phoenix Mountain hunt a few months back, I asked my sworn brother to check the Jin resettlement program, as he helps organize it,” he said. “He must have overlooked you somehow – I told him to look for Wen Qionglin; perhaps that was the issue.”

It didn’t seem especially likely, since Jin Guangyao had been able to find out about Wen Ning’s past, but he couldn’t think of any other reason why the normally efficient man would make such an oversight.

Wen Ning was quiet for a long moment, a strange expression on his face. “What are your plans now, Sect Leader Nie?”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “What do you mean?”

“About A-Yuan. His parentage…”

“You said he was fine and happy,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, realizing that Wen Ning was probably worried that he’d insist on the boy returning to the Cloud Recesses. “I’m not…Lan Xichen is very busy with his own concerns, anyway, and if the child is happy, then nothing need change. And Wei-gongzi’s hysterics aside, Yiling is fairly well protected by him at the moment, so this is probably the safest place for him to be.”

The Jins were furious about what had happened; he wouldn’t trust the Wens with them right now. In fact…

“If the Jin sect start making trouble, my earlier offer to care for him is still valid,” he said, and this time he did have a token at his waist that he was able to offer up. “Given your actions during the war, it can no longer extend to you as well – assuming you can even leave Wei-gongzi’s side, anyway.”

“Who told you what I did during the war?” Wen Ning asked. “That sworn brother of yours again? Lianfeng-zun?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “As I said, I asked him to look for you; he found out in passing about what was done under your sister’s command. I can’t offer succor to someone who helped torture my Nie cultivators, even in the guise of offering medical aid; there would need to be a trial, and passions are still inflamed. Better that you stay here.” There didn’t seem to be anything more to say: he’d found out what he’d wanted. “I’ll take my leave, then.”

Wen Ning slowly nodded. “Come back again sometime, Sect Leader Nie,” he requested, and even seemed sincere about it. “And – stay safe.”

It was a strange farewell, but Nie Mingjue supposed that the remnants of the Wen sect – and a fierce corpse, no less – would be more concerned than most about security and well-being.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning said, sitting on the floor next to Wei Wuxian’s working bench in the cave. “I have a question.”

“Is this about my sister’s wedding again? I’ve already accepted that I can’t go. You don’t have to keep worrying.”

“Not about that,” Wen Ning said. “Something else.” He hesitated. “I have a friend –”

Wei Wuxian dropped the half-finished compass of evil onto the workbench with a thunk and spun around to look at Wen Ning with a grin. “You have a friend? Go on.”

Wen Ning stared at him, bewildered.

“Everyone knows that asking for advice on behalf of a friend means asking for it for yourself!” Wei Wuxian sai, beaming. “Go on, tell me – do you like someone? Or is it something to do with your body –”

“It really is about a friend!” Wen Ning wailed, hiding his face behind his hands. “Or, well, not a friend. Someone I know. He’s the one with friends – bad friends.”

“Bad friends? What do you mean?”

Wen Ning peeked between his fingers, but Wei Wuxian appeared to have calmed down a bit from his earlier manic glee.

“I think,” he said, thinking very hard about his words before saying them, “that – this person I know, that he’s being manipulated by one, maybe more than one, of his friends. I don’t know why, but…I don’t know. It gives me a weird feeling. Like something bad is going to happen. And I don’t know if I should tell him or if that would only make things worse or…I don’t know.”

Wei Wuxian nodded, finally looking serious. “Is there a chance that we can drop the ambiguity?” he asked. “I can help better if I know who the people you’re talking about are.”

“It’s a bit sensitive. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble…”

Wei Wuxian looked around the cave pointedly. “I’m pretty sure we’ve offended everyone we could possibly offend already, Wen Ning.”

“…I think Chifeng-zun shouldn’t have sworn brotherhood with Lianfeng-zun and Zewu-jun,” Wen Ning said in a rush.

“I retract my previous statement,” Wei Wuxian said weakly. “What? How do you even – you consider Chifeng-zun a friend?”

“He was very nice the first time we met,” Wen Ning said.

“Chifeng-zun? Nice?”

Wen Ning shrugged.

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian said. “Okay. This is fine. You did in fact find the only three people in the cultivation world that I haven’t crossed yet, but – it’s fine. Okay. Let’s deal with this. What do you mean he’s being manipulated? And what’s wrong with Lan Xichen? He’s the real nice one.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t! It’s Lianfeng-zun that’s the problem, I think.”

“I haven’t heard anything bad about him, other than the fact that he runs whenever Chifeng-zun appears,” Wei Wuxian said. “But then again, rumor doesn’t get you very far, or else we’d be living in a palace of blood and gore right now – emphasis on palace. It’d probably have better washroom facilities than we have.” He sighed and shook his head. “What makes you say what you’re saying?”

“I’m not sure…it’s probably nothing. They didn’t pay any attention to Chifeng-zun when he’d been tortured, letting him walk around where he could’ve been killed, and then they swore brotherhood before his wounds had even scabbed over, and I swear they must have pushed him into it, what with the way he treats Lianfeng-zun...Anyway, then there’s everything that’s been happening with Lianfeng-zun and me - ”

“…you know what, let’s focus to that,” Wei Wuxian said, holding his head as if it hurt. “What has Lianfeng-zun to do with you?”

“Chifeng-zun asked him to look for me, a few months ago, and he deliberately didn’t tell him where I was,” Wen Ning said. “And he also told him a bunch of stuff about what I did during the war that’s really not true – he thought I was involved in torturing people, and I wasn’t, I swear! – and anyway, I don’t know why he’d do that. Sworn brothers shouldn’t lie to each other, should they?”

“Generally speaking, no,” Wei Wuxian said. “Okay, yes, that’s all a bit suspicious; that bit with him exaggerating what you did during the war sure sounds like he’s abusing Chifeng-zun’s trust to isolate us even more. But what’s wrong with Lan Xichen? He’s Lan Zhan’s older brother – I like him.”

Wen Ning nibbled on his lower lip. “It’s not what he did,” he said slowly. “It’s only…okay, let me tell you a story. There was an uncle I liked once. He’d been a guest cultivator, but he married one of my cousins, and he was really nice to me; I used to go over to see him a few times a week. And then one day my sister told me I couldn’t talk to him anymore because he was gone: she’d had him ejected from the sect because she’d found out that he beat his wife.”

Wei Wuxian nodded.

“I didn’t believe it at first,” Wen Ning said. “He was always really nice to me, you know? He’d never raised a hand or behaved badly where I could see. A bunch of other people hadn’t believed it, either, for the same reasons. He behaved well, he had a good reputation, he smiled…my cousin tried to kill herself. That’s how my sister found out, and she believed her. And she was right, too.”

“Lan Xichen is as nice in private as he is in public, though.”

“No, you don’t understand – I don’t think he’s the guest cultivator in the story. I think he’s me. Me and all the other ones that refused to believe what was going on even if we saw the signs, just because we liked him so much. He wouldn’t have gotten away with it for as long as he did if we all hadn’t been willing to defend him.”

“So you think Lianfeng-zun is the one that’s up to something in secret,” Wei Wuxian said slowly, fingers drumming on his leg. “And Lan Xichen is acting, however inadvertently, as his shield…Chifeng-zun would definitely believe whatever Lan Xichen told him. That’s probably how he got captured in Yangquan to begin with, actually; that makes a lot of sense. But what benefit would there be to Lianfeng-zun to manipulating Chifeng-zun into hating you? Hating us?”

He frowned. “Do you think the Jin sect is planning on trying something against us here at Yiling, and Lianfeng-zun is trying to get Chifeng-zun on board? I know the Jin sect wants my Stygian Tiger Seal, while the Nie sect has never much cared about it…this could be serious.”

Wen Ning nodded.

“One question, though. You said he deliberately knew where you were and didn’t tell him – are you sure about that? That’s the key point, at least to me: getting your past in the war wrong, that could be a mistake, and we don’t know if there was some sort of earlier agreement about what happened in the Sun Palace. How do you know Lianfeng-zun knew where you were?”

“He visited,” Wen Ning said, and looked down at his hands, which were clenched so hard that the knuckles were white. “He looked right at me while he was talking to some of the guards. And…”

He trailed off.

“And?”

“And then I died, Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning said solemnly. “Less than a day later, the guards he was talking to killed me.”

“Not that I’m not always happy to see you, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said, ignoring the way that he could feel his sect elders a few rooms over bursting into flame in sheer rage without ever realizing why, and also the way his elder brother was going to break both his legs if he ever found out that this was what Nie Huaisang was doing with the role of acting Sect Leader in his absence, “but…why are you here again?”

“To save your brother!” Wei Wuxian said with a grin. “Also possibly to get your thoughts on what a good wedding gift for my sister would be. I can’t decide whether to go with something fancy, heartfelt, or crude.”

“Don’t go with fancy, the Jin sect has all the fancy they need for a lifetime,” Nie Huaisang said at once, because that much he could answer. “And – wait, what was that about saving my brother?”

“Also, I may need to marry Lan Zhan in order to finalize an adoption,” Wei Wuxian said thoughtfully, as if he wasn’t blowing up explosives in Nie Huaisang’s brain with every word. “He doesn’t know about it yet. Do you think you can find someone who can officiate?”

“My brother can do it, he’s technically an elder in the Lan sect by virtue of being sworn brothers with their sect leader,” Nie Huaisang said, mouth moving on automatic. “And – what? Marriage? Adoption? Not know about – also, can we go back to the bit about saving my brother?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #wen ning #lan xichen #jin guangyao #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #lan xichen means well #but being a good friend to one can mean being a bad friend to another #jin guangyao does not mean well #Anonymous #war remnants

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hotchley · 3 years

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neptune’s ocean (wash this blood)

Okay so, I ended up on the part of TikTok that has A Thing for Hotch’s hands, and I decided to make it angsty. And then it had a happy Mortch ending? I don’t know...

The title is a reference to Macbeth: “Will all great Neptune’s wash this blood from my hands? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.” It’ll make sense when you read.

This was cathartic to write, especially given the conversation I had today. I hope it is somewhat cathartic to read. You can heal. You can move on, you can be happy, and your biggest fears may never come true, no matter what your brain says. As usual, no proofreading, or dialogue.

Word Count: 2486

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, blood, vomit, guns, death, grief/mourning, intrusive thoughts, survivors guilt

read on ao3!

He can’t bring himself to look at his hands. They’d never been something he’d actually focused on. He’d never thought they were cute the way Jack’s were, or hated how slender his fingers were, so unlike the stereotypical hero. He didn’t pause his life to watch them carry out household tasks the way Haley always had.

Haley. Haley who is dead, and gone and cold, and whose blood coats his hands like a second skin. She loved his hands. She always told him how she loved everything about him, but his hands were her favourite thing. She loved how soft they were. How strong they were. Everything about them.

In their first apartment, with the random photos and multi-coloured walls and traces of themselves and love everywhere, she had confessed this love to him. He had laughed when she couldn’t explain what she loved, or why. Haley had thrown a pillow at him in retaliation. But when they ended up laying on the sofa, both claiming they would go and clear the kitchen in a moment, she had linked their hands over her chest and kissed his knuckles.

And confessed that part of the reason she loved them was that they were so much bigger than hers. When Aaron asked her why, Haley turned away and said it was embarrassing. He convinced her to tell him. How, he wasn’t sure. But she told him.

It was because they made her feel safe.

But as he sits in the living room that had once been full of love and life and joy and her, his hands being wiped of all of his sins as though they were as easy to bury as her body, he thought about how those same hands she loved had only hurt her.

He looks down, needing to see the traces of blood before they’re removed forever. As he does so, the limbs start to blur before his eyes. His eyes swim with tears and his throat starts to close. How many times before today has he washed them? Scrubbed at the pain until the skin turned red and raw?

How many times had he succeeded at rubbing it away? At hiding it, not just from everyone else, but from himself? And how many more times would he have to repeat the motion before his hands were clean? Would they ever be clean?

He wipes the tears from his eyes. He doesn’t deserve to cry. Not now. Not after everything he has ruined.

Moments flash through his mind all at once.

Aaron Hotchner is eight.

His father is drunk- but that’s not an excuse, not now and not ever, although he will only learn that at thirteen in a boarding school meant to destroy him- and he does not understand what is going on.

But his father has taken the belt from his trousers and brought it down on too small for his age hands until he sees blood. His hands tremble uncontrollably. Tears stream down his face, but there is no sympathy or kindness waiting for him. Not this time.

The next day, he can hardly hold his pen. Nobody seems to notice or care. So he grits his teeth and bears the pain. It is the first time he finds himself doing such a thing, but it will by no means be the last.

Aaron Hotchner is fourteen.

Someone insults his mother. And they aren’t wrong. He will realise this in a few years: that his mother was just another victim, but in that moment, he is just a teenager angry at the world for letting him live. But whilst he knows it to be true, Sean does not. Sean does not understand that their mother is not perfect, and is just as broken as his brother’s spirit.

Sean is scared. No, he’s terrified that their mother is going to be taken from them and that they’ll never see her again. Aaron feels guilty for wishing that would happen- that both their parents would be taken away, and they would be carried off by someone that can love them the way a parent is meant to be.

Sean is scared, and Aaron is meant to ensure that never happens. He punches the boy.

It hurts his hand more than it hurts the other boy’s face, but he still ends up being suspended. His father hurts his hands again. It’s in that moment that he finally makes a wish: that he would never be like his father, even if he was his mirror.

Aaron is seventeen.

Somehow, he finds himself at Haley’s home. Her parents are away for the weekend. His are still in that wretched house, playing roles in front of their guests and destroying the set behind closed doors.

His hands are covered in blood because his father hit too hard.

Jessica, who is back from college, and the reason their parents are not at home, answers the door. She starts to close it when she sees that it is him. But then she sees how scared he looks, and finally understands why Haley is so protective over this boy.

She lets him in, and does not let him apologise. She summons her sister. His girlfriend.

Haley hugs him. She has suspected this for a while now- everyone has- but she’s going to be different in the way that she is going to act. His fists remain clenched at his side as she makes this decision. Because this is a mistake. He cannot ruin her as well. He needs to walk away.

But Haley and Jessica don’t let him. Haley takes his hands and in the same way Derek will twenty years later, wipes the blood away without blinking or flinching. And then Jessica bandages them up, making sure to use antiseptic to prevent infection. It stings. He doesn’t react. It’s nothing compared to his father.

He tries to ask them how they know what to do, and they both shush him. When Jessica wipes her eyes, and Haley pats her back, he remembers the days they would spend at the church, and the women that would spend hours with them, only returning to their homes when the sun went down.

It is enough to make him vomit. They clean that up without judgment.

And then, and then-

Aaron is twenty-six.

He is graduating from law school, just like he is supposed to. His hand is shaken. He does not flinch away, even though he wants to. He doesn’t recoil because Haley and Jessica are sitting in the audience, the only people he even wanted to watch him walk across the stage.

Their cheers are the only thing he can hear.

When Haley hugs him, and Jessica tells him how proud she is, he knows it isn’t just because he made it.

Aaron is twenty-eight.

He is dancing with Haley at their wedding.

Her hands are so much smaller than his. So much gentler. So much softer. So much more human. And so beautifully void of scars. So perfect.

He makes one final vow that he will never say aloud. He will always keep her safe. No matter what happens.

Hotch is thirty-two.

He shoots someone dead for the first time. The medics come running in to check the injuries on the hostages. To confirm the time and cause of death.

He drops the gun. Dave’s words- don’t let them see you break- echo somewhere in his mind, but he cannot help the display of vulnerability. His knees buckle. He hits the ground with trembling hands. He pulled the trigger that released the bullet that ended someone’s life.

On the train journey home, he pretends to be fine. Jason and Dave pretend to not notice that he is silently falling apart.

The door to his home- the only one he has ever known- closes. As Haley holds him, he cries. And then he tries to push her away because is going to destroy her. It’s in his blood. His father destroyed him, and his father destroyed him, and it is a vicious cycle that he cannot break.

But Haley does not let go.

When the tears stop, she asks. He manages to force the truth out. Haley tells him everything is okay, and that he did the right thing, that he will move on from this. Aaron pretends to believe her, and pretends he doesn’t see her shift away from him ever so slightly.

Perhaps this is the moment their marriage starts to end.

Aaron is thirty-four.

A nurse is placing his son in his arms. Haley is watching them both with a smile. He mirrors that smile. so in awe at her for giving birth.

He’s in awe of his son as well. Jack- named for Jacqueline, the mother Hotch gained from and lost to the job- is tiny. Aaron cannot quite believe he is real. Jack Gideon Hotchner is so small, but so trusting that the arms holding him will keep him safe.

So just as quickly as the awe overwhelmed him, the fear sets in. What is he doing holding a baby so small and precious? He will ruin this child. He needs to let go.

He hands the baby to Haley, and runs to the bathroom. His meagre dinner- fear for Haley had stopped him from eating properly- makes a second appearance.

Haley knows what happened- she always does. She doesn’t force him to explain what went through his head, nor does she tease him about not being able to handle the sight of childbirth like the nurses do, so blissfully unaware of the monsters that haunt his nightmares.

Instead, Haley lays Jack down in the cot beside her bed. And then she takes Aaron’s hands, covering them with her own. She presses a soft kiss to his knuckle. Almost like she is silently promising him the same thing: that he will not hurt this child the way he was.

Suddenly, he is in the present.

Aaron is thirty-nine.

He is sitting in the living room of the home he had built with Haley. The home they were supposed to raise Jack in. Together. But now she is gone. She is gone and it is all his fault.

He let George Foyet escape. And then he took too long to work out his final plan. He took too long to get to the house. So now Haley is gone. Jack will grow up without a mother and a father that cannot trust himself to touch him without causing harm.

How can he?

He has killed a man. A person. A person who had surrendered, with nothing more than his bare hands. He killed the man that had murdered Haley, in order to save Jack, but what kind of person does that make him? How is he supposed to comfort his son by hugging him and holding him when the blood would never be washed from his hands?

How could it?

He is worse than his father.

Derek leaves him after he finishes with the bandages.

He returns a few seconds, minutes, hours- Hotch doesn’t know, time has become nothing to him- later. He returns to Hotch sobbing over all the things he has loved and lost since he was born.

Derek doesn't say a word. He doesn’t need to. He knows nothing he says will make the situation better. Instead, he takes Aaron’s hands and lets the man cry.

Healing- physical and emotional- takes time. Rationally, Aaron knows it will, but it’s still a difficult thing to accept. It takes longer than he wants it to.

It angers him- that it’s taking him so long to get back to normal and move on. The grief counsellor (the one Derek urged him to see, if not for his own sake, then for Jack’s) reminds him that it’s normal. If it were anyone else, Hotch would tell them to let themselves feel, and to give themself time to mourn.

But he is supposed to be the leader of the BAU. And although he can hardly look at Jack without tears forming, he is a father. He needs to be there for his son. So whilst everyone- colleagues, family, Jack’s counsellor, his own therapist- tells him he needs to take care of himself as well, he just can’t.

He can’t bring himself to eat. He can’t bring himself to let go of the guilt. He can’t bring himself to mourn. He can’t bring himself to accept that Haley is gone, nothing more than a casket, a headstone, photos and the memories and stories her loved ones cling to.

There is so much he cannot do. Too much that he feels.

Yet no matter what seems to happen, no matter how sad he feels, how angry he gets at the world, Derek seems to stick around. When Aaron is terrified of hurting someone he loves, Derek is there to remind him he won’t. When he is so tired he can’t even sleep, but Jack wakes from a nightmare, Derek stays awake and reads to him.

When he forgets to eat.

When counselling drains him of his energy.

When his hands shake too much to point the gun at the target during his re-certification training.

When he can’t even look at his hands because of all the harm they have caused.

Derek stays, even when Aaron cannot hug his son.

Aaron Hotchner is forty-three years old.

It has been three years since Haley’s death.

Two years ago, he let go of his guilt. One year and nine months ago, he let go of his fear of moving on, as he realised he could love someone and remember her all at once. Seven months ago, he built up the courage to tell Derek how he truly felt.

Derek had kissed him, soft and gentle and perfect. It had been exactly the same and completely different to the first kiss him and Haley had shared. Because it had been perfect, and it had been unexpected, but it had been less desperate and less messy.

Derek had kissed him, and Aaron had felt peace. He knows Haley is proud of him.

Derek is watching him. The man who had lost everything and then found a way to carry on. The man who put everyone above himself, but is learning to care for himself. The man who still wakes up screaming, but who has learnt to breathe without fear of timing running out.

The man he loves.

Jack is holding an ice-cream in one hand as he and Hotch walk side by side, down to where Morgan is waiting to surprise the boy- not so little anymore- with a trip to the bowling alley for his birthday.��

Jack holds his hand out for his dad to take.

And what does Aaron do?

He takes Jack’s hand in his own, without a single ounce of hesitation.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #derek morgan #hotch x haley #mortch #hotchgan #criminal minds fanfic #tw child abuse #tw blood #tw vomit #tw guns #tw death #tw grief #tw survivor's guilt

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loki-hargreeves · 5 years

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Kylo Ren x Reader - He Finds Out You’re Pregnant

Warnings: pregnancy stuff, angst, a little bit of fluff Word Count: 2,5 Summary: Kylo Ren returns home from his mission. He’s excited to see you again, but it comes with a surprise. His worries and fears that he tried to bury away long ago return. Author’s Note: This one has been on my mind for so long and I finally got to it! Enjoy 😊

Third POV

It felt like a lifetime that Kylo Ren was gone. He was on mission that he deemed to be extremely important. Many light-years away was a sacred object that he needed to get in order to proceed with his other missions. Y/N, his wife, was waiting for him patiently. While he was gone, she was assisting the other generals by filling in Kylo’s role. After all, she was the supreme leader’s empress. Her word had power.

At first, it was easy. Waking up was easy, getting to work was easy and getting things done wasn’t a problem. Eventually, Y/N began to be grumpy and tired. She felt sick, and in the mornings, she only wished to stay in bed. Everyone had noticed the change in her, and everyone thought it was because she missed Kylo. Even Y/N herself told herself that was the reason.

Surely everything would be alright again once he’d return, right?

Time passed slowly, but finally the day arrived: The supreme leader returned from a successful mission. It was late, but Y/N got up to greet him. She barely had time to pull her robe on as she hurried out of their quarters and ran down the corridors. Nothing could describe the joy she felt when she heard his ship had returned home. It made her heart beat harder and she felt happy.

Kylo Ren kept a straight face around the other people on the ship, but once he saw her, he failed to resist a smile. He was happy he wore his helmet so no one could see. He finished his business and then made his way to the corridor where Y/N was waiting for him with the sweetest smile on her face. She was his light in all his darkness.

They were out of sight. Frankly, no one dared disturb them, fearing that mistake would be their last.

Kylo took off his helmet just in time as she wrapped herself around him, pulling him into a loving hug. At first, he was nervous to be touched, to be so vulnerable around someone, but with her Kylo had learned to yearn for more.

“I missed you,” Y/N admitted quietly. Her head was nuzzled against his chest so she could hear his heartbeat.

Kylo took a deep breath and let down his shoulders. “I missed you too,” he let her know. It was quite soft from his mouth and he was happy no one was around to hear their sweet talk. That would definitely make both of them seem ridiculous.

He put his gloved hand on her cheek so he could look into her eyes. Y/N reacted to well to his touch, tilting her head and then she gave him that look that sent shivers down his spine. Finally, he bent down to kiss her. Their lips collided softly at first, but it deepened very fast. Y/N wrapped her arms around Kylo’s neck to pull her husband closer. They were hungry for each other. He wanted more from the kiss and it appeared Y/N wanted it too. Kylo’s other hand travelled down her body, holding onto her waist tightly.

That’s when he felt it.

At first, he just felt her presence through the force. She was so full of life.

Now that he was this close to her, so close he could feel her heartbeat, he felt what he overlooked at first.

There was life blooming within her.

She was pregnant.

The sudden revelation startled Kylo. He pulled away from the kiss and stepped back, as if touching her physically hurt him. Y/N seemed confused. She looked around, thinking someone might’ve caught them, but they were alone. “What’s wrong?”

Kylo’s mouth felt dry, as if he had eaten flour. His muscles were tense, and he felt his gut twist in deep and dark fear. He loved her, but he didn’t expect this any time soon. He never thought he’d be a father. Honestly, the thought scared him. Kylo never had the greatest childhood himself and he was terrified of putting his own child through the same.

Didn’t she know?

Judging by the look on her face, she was lost. She had no idea of the life that was growing inside her. Their child.

Kylo could bring himself to say anything. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he closed the distance between them slowly and he pressed his hand on her stomach. His hand was trembling. As he touched her, he felt it again. The connection he felt was so strong, it was undeniable.

Y/N wasn’t dumb. When her husband was speechless and he touched her stomach so cautiously, it all made sense. Her morning sickness, her mood swings, everything! Shock attacked her every cell and she felt her blood freeze in her veins. What would Kylo do? Would he be happy? Was he happy? He didn’t look happy.

“You’re pregnant…” Kylo whispered. It sounded like he was telling it to himself to confirm what he was feeling.

Nervously, Y/N put her hand above his. Their eyes met and she saw how terrified he looked. It was a look she rarely saw on him. Kylo was a master at masking his emotions. But right now, he looked startled. It broke her heart to see him like that. Why wasn’t he happy about it?

“Kylo,” She called his name gently. She tried to hug him, but he resisted her touch. Suddenly, Kylo just turned around and put on his helmet. He did that whenever he wanted to escape a situation, even himself. “Kylo!” She tried again, this time more desperately. They needed to talk, but he seemed like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Just like that, he walked off hastily. Y/N stood there, in shock of what just happened. She was unsure whether she should go after him or let him calm down. Knowing Kylo, he was most likely overwhelmed.

Just like she was.

She was pregnant with his child. The dark side was not the best place to raise a child. What would everyone else think when Y/N walked around with a very pregnant stomach? It would only take a few moons until that.

But most importantly, she worried for their marriage.

Her emotions got the best of her very soon. After gathering some strength, Y/N made her way back to their quarters. She knew he’d return later. He always did. A few stormtroopers were guarding the hallways nearby and they seemed confused when she stormed through them without greeting them. Everyone knew the supreme leader had returned, so they were confused why she was returning to their quarters alone. Even without words, she made it clear she didn’t wish to be spoken to – or else she was sure she’d burst.

Once she closed the doors, her tears escaped her eyes. She felt weak as the hot tears ran down her cheeks and her lips began to tremble. With her back pressed against the wall, she let out a whimper and lost the grip she had on herself before. She was happy and terrified at the same time. What made it worse was Kylo’s reaction. He seemed utterly terrified! What if would shut her out like he did with everything else that conflicted himself? Would he do that?

She just wanted to be in his arms right now. He was her safe haven. Always.

It had been hours. Kylo felt guilty for walking away, but he knew if he had stayed, she would’ve seen a side of him she probably wouldn’t have liked. Kylo locked himself in an empty meeting room and he let the truth sink in. He knew he could never forgive himself if he made her get rid of their child. Deep down, Kylo wanted this. But he was afraid.

He had trashed the meeting room. It wasn’t a clean way to deal with his emotions, but it worked, temporarily. Kylo let out his frustrations by throwing the chairs around, using the force to push things out of his way until it was all quiet around him. He couldn’t even sense stormtroopers nearby. They must’ve heard him and now everyone avoided the meeting room. Despite his dark feelings dragging him down, it amused him a little bit.

Kylo looked out of the viewport, focusing on the stars far away. From afar, the universe looked peaceful and beautiful. No one could ever know of the truth that hid in every corner, every galaxy. There was so much conflict all around the universe. Yet when he looked at it from so far away, it made him relaxed. Slowly but surely, Kylo caught his own breath again. His peace didn’t last long as he thought about his wife who was probably just as terrified and alone.

She was the only one Kylo didn’t want to upset. He could do terrible things, but not to her. And not to their child. But that was what scared him so much too.

For so long, Kylo had been alone in his life. Even back when he was a child, he felt so different and lonely. When he met Y/N, everything changed. It took a while for their relationship to get a kick start, but it happened and Kylo was so grateful. A child would just make their connection so much stronger. A part of that scared him too. He was going to be a father, someone his child would look up to.

It made Kylo think of his own father. He disowned him long ago, he put his lightsaber though him! But deep down, Kylo cared. He hated it, but he did care. It hadn’t been right, but Kylo had no choice when he killed him. It was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life. At the end of the day, Kylo cared about his mother. He could’ve killed her too, but he had never been able to pull through with it. Snoke had made it very clear that Kylo was weak because of his emotions. You have too much of your father’s heart in you, young Solo. It had taken a very long time for Kylo to even accept his feelings.

With guilt heavy in his gut, Kylo decided to search for Y/N. He assumed she’d be in their quarters so that’s where he went. Once he was behind the door, he took off his helmet and quietly opened the door. Immediately, he noticed it was dark and quiet. Then he saw her. She was on their bed, asleep above the blankets. Despite the darkness inside, Kylo saw the tears that had dried on her soft cheeks. The sight made his heart ache. He was angry at himself for being the reason behind her tears.

Carefully, he sat down on the bed beside her body and he took her hand into his own. Y/N mumbled something as she woke up. “Kylo?” She sounded tired as she spoke, barely above a whisper.

When he looked at her, he felt overwhelmed with love. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he was absolutely in love with his wife. He had sworn to protect her and now he swore to himself he’d protect their child. He would have a family and he would never let it slip away like his family had before.

“I’m sorry,” Kylo apologized. No one else could even imagine hearing those words from him.

Y/N sat up and the tiniest smile appeared on her face. Quietly, she pulled him into a hug. Kylo didn’t mind. In fact, he relaxed more when she held him. Her scent crept into his lungs. He had missed her so much. So damn much. Being away from her was never easy.

“I love you, Kylo. I know…I know this isn’t happening at an ideal time, but I think we can do this,” Y/N sounded cautious, but hopeful. Kylo listened to her and nodded, agreeing with her.

He pulled away slightly so he could face her. Yes, he was scared, but he managed to see the good in it. If anyone was going to be the mother of his child, it would be her. Only her. “It’ll be alright. I promise,” Kylo assured her. “I love you too.”

Her smile widened and Kylo could feel how relieved and happy she felt. It was adorable. She leapt into his lap and pressed the most excited kiss on his nose, cheeks and finally his lips. Kylo held onto her so she wouldn’t fall off his lap. As their lips met again, the kiss turned passionate. Their actions spoke so much louder than words. They assured each other that it would be alright. They had gone through so much before. Perhaps this would be a new and better chapter for both of them?

As they parted from the kiss, Kylo saw a tear on her cheek. She was smiling, so he assumed it was because of relief. He raised his hand to wipe it off her face.

“You know, if you want to talk about anything, I’ll listen to you, right?” Y/N wondered after a while.

“I know,” Kylo sighed. He knew that very well and sometimes he chose to overlook that. He didn’t want to burden her with his thoughts, but somehow, she always ended up making it better. “I was...well, I am surprised, worried, I suppose. But this is great. This,” Kylo stopped and put his hand on her stomach again which made Y/N chuckle softly, “…this is great.”

“What do you think everyone else will think when I look like I’ve swallowed a ball?” Y/N tried to joke a little bit about it, but she was worried. The dark side was nothing she really chose. She was more in the grey zone. Her love for Kylo was the reason she was where she was now. She’d follow him anywhere.

Kylo knew that it was potentially very dangerous for her to be surrounded by the people she was surrounded by. Most people in the dark side weren’t necessarily very fond of children, but they wouldn’t dare show that in front of Kylo if it was his child they were talking about. He wouldn’t let anyone ruin what he was going to have with Y/N. “Don’t worry about that. If anyone has issues with this, they will have to deal with me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone would like to piss you off,” she laughed softly. At least, she seemed happy for now. Naturally, they were both worried. Who wouldn’t be in their situation? But it was easy to ignore for now.

Kylo was happy too. He was holding her. He was holding his world in his arms. In that moment, he knew that they would come above anything. Kylo had had doubts about the dark side ever since he killed his mentor. He wanted to forget about his past. He really did. The life he had was nothing he ever wanted, but he had it anyway. Only Y/N kept him sane sometimes. But the girl Rey kept him from leaving it all behind and now this. Nothing made sense anymore, but his love for Y/N.

“It will be just fine,” He promised her and kissed the top of her head. Something made him sure of his words. Whatever the future would hold, he believed it was truly going to be alright.

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about Anakin and Padme while writing this. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! :) I would love to hear your feedback. It always makes my day.

#Kylo Ren #Kylo Ren x Reader #Kylo Ren x You #Kylo Ren x Y/N #Kylo Ren imagine #Ben Solo imagine #Ben solo x Reader #Kylo Ren fanfiction

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 4 years

Text

Recovery Zine - The Bonds We Choose (Recovery Leftovers Now On Sale!)

Hello, everyone! I’m so excited to finally share the story I wrote for the @recoveryzine project that was so much fun to work on! Speaking of, the leftovers sale is now up and going and you guys should check it out!

https://recoveryzine.tumblr.com/post/626096800774897665/recovery-leftovers-go-on-sale-august-14th-at-6pm

Support some great causes, enjoy the characters we all love, and remember to take care of yourself!

Aizawa Shouta grunted at the solid kick that slammed into his crossed arms, pushing him back a couple inches across the training mats. The follow up punch was aimed directly at his exposed side a half second later, Shouta dodging the shot before catching the next swing with an open palm, ignoring the light sting and staring into the determined eyes of one Shinsou Hitoshi.

A beat passed where the two stared each other down before Shouta let his lips twitch up into a pleased smile before he relaxed his stance, Shinsou doing the same after making certain the match was truly over. “You’ve been practicing on your speed.”

“Like you said, none of this matters if I’m not fast enough to keep up with a fight before I get a chance to use my quirk,” Shinsou shrugged, trying for modesty even as Shouta saw the glee at his efforts being noticed. The kid soaked up praise like it was the first and last time he would ever hear it. Worrying, but it was a topic for another time since Shouta saw the exact segway he needed.

“Speaking of, we should work on your quirk today. The physical training you’ve been doing will be useless if you don’t learn how to pair it with your quirk by the time you transfer into the heroics course.” The kid had been squirming out of quirk practice since Shouta had first started training him, but Shinsou needed to improve his quirk before he tried to start learning how to use the binding cloth.

“Today as in… right now?” Shinsou’s voice warbled like a student who was asked for homework that had never been done; which was impressive given his expression was blank and tired as it always was. The look stirring in his eyes, though, had Shouta swearing and hoping he was imagining the fear he saw there. “I thought today was a physical training day.”

“It is. Physical training means training every part of your body - including your quirk.” Shouta felt some of his own tension drain away at the disgruntled expression he was given. “Don’t worry, kid, we’ll start simple. Do you know any of the limits of your quirk? How many people you can control, how long it lasts, anything like that? Does it always have to be a verbal answer, or will a nod work?”

There was that hesitation again, like talking about his quirk was the very last thing that Shinsou wanted to do, but eventually, after what felt like too long a silence for simple quirk questions, Shinsou shook his head. “No, I have to be given a verbal answer. I, uh, maybe other languages might make a difference, but sign language doesn’t. My quirk doesn’t activate with sign.”

The way the words were spoken, something familiar in the tone, had Shouta lifting his hands up and signing in quick, fluid motions that would be easy to read. ‘You know sign language?’

His suspicions were confirmed when Shinsou responded in sign, a simple, ‘The basics.’ The motions were a little hesitant, so whatever he had learned had either been recent or he didn’t practice with ‘speaking’ it much.

Shinsou went back to talking, Shouta frowning as the kid rubbed at the back of his neck, the clearest sign there was to show he was nervous. “I, uh, I don’t know how many I can control at once, but I think it’d only be one or two before I started having problems. I don’t really know a time limit, but to break out of it the person just needs a hard jab or something.”

“Alright, we’ll start today by seeing what sort of time limits you can work with when it comes to a single person not fighting back. I want you to use your quirk on me and then hold it for as long as you can. I won’t be fighting back, to begin with, but we’ll cap it at ten minutes and then go from there depending on how you feel.”

It wasn’t the most intensive training when it came to quirks, but Shouta had a wary feeling that Shinsou didn’t practice with his quirk for more than one reason. This exercise would give them both a good idea of what he could do and also warm Shinsou up to using his quirk without any negative repercussions. It didn’t take a genius to see the quirk discrimination Shinsou had been through with a quirk like Brainwashing, after all.

“Right.” There was the barest hitch to the words that could have been passed off as the kid still regaining his breath, but Shouta filed the information away just in case it became a problem for later. “Ten minutes?”

“Ten-” Shouta’s response ended abruptly as it felt like every empty spot in his head became stuffed with cotton while his mind disconnected from his body, the world turned on it’s side as he was unable to even make a sound or form an expression.

He could see Shinsou’s brief smile and felt a pang of amused annoyance as he took notice of how just seeing things felt different. He could certainly understand why the average person would panic when being put under a quirk like Shinsou’s suddenly and without warning, but after a few moments of adjusting, it wasn’t that bad.

There was no mistake the quirk was disconcerting to be under, but the disconnect was more than nice when Shouta also realized that he could hardly, if at all, feel any of the usual pain that plagued his joints and scars. It was a nice reprieve and Shouta figured if the kid decided he didn’t want to be a hero then he had a great career in physical therapy.

Relaxing against the quirk, Shouta kept careful watch on Shinsou as best he could, noticing how the kid started to fidget and twist at his sleeves, looking at the phone he had pulled out every few seconds and obviously checking the time to keep track of the ten minute mark.

At the hesitant call of his name, Shouta’s attention focused back on Shinsou, who was looking more and more nervous as he mumbled a soft, “It’s been a long time since I’ve kept an adult under this long, so I’m not sure how that might affect things. Just so you know.”

The disclaimer was rather unnecessary since that was the point of testing one’s quirk, so they could know how Shinsou’s quirk affected people. That was a good thing to keep in mind, though, if there were any differences in control depending on age. He had a feeling that it might be easier for an adult to break out of the control than a child, but they would have to test that in the future.

“It’s, um, it’s been four minutes, too,” Shinsou said, something in his tone wavering as he looked between the floor and his phone. “I’m sorry, this is probably uncomfortable for you. I know my quirk can sometimes even hurt- Should I end it early? I- You can’t really answer that, I guess, but, uh- Yeah. Just… yeah.”

He knew his quirk could hurt, huh? Shouta could guess at the types of people that had told him that, before, and he made another mental note to reassure the kid that his control was, if anything, helping his pain.

“Aizawa-sensei, I’m- I’m not sure if we should go the full ten minutes.” Something was wrong. “I- It’s not hurting me, but it’s probably hurting you, and I know you’re a pro-hero and everything, but I- I don’t want to hurt you, Sensei.” Fuck, the kid sounded so genuine and as if the very idea of hurting someone terrified him.

Focusing on Shinsou as much as he could, Shouta wanted to curse as he saw that the kid, in just a few short minutes, had become tense and withdrawn. He clutched at his phone with enough force to turn his hands a pale white even as he stared at the ground with his chest stuttering as if he wasn’t able to get a full breath, something in his face both utterly expressionless and completely panicked. “Aizawa-sensei, I… I can’t let go.”

There was a beat of silence, Shinsou’s phone slipping out of his hands and crashing to the floor, Shinsou following a second later and crouching down low with his hands buried in his hair, Shouta a second away from starting to panic himself as Shinsou’s terrified mutters filled the air, a constant stream of, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t do it, I don’t remember how to let go, why can’t I let go, I can’t do it-” that didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

A moment passed where Shouta had no idea where to even start to break Shinsou’s control before he felt it snap on his own, everything inside him shifting as the world was returned to its proper place and his mind and body were his own again; which had him stumbling in his steps as he adjusted to the familiar wave of pain that swept through him.

Taking a single second more to reorientate himself and feel nothing except worry for the kid who wanted to so badly be a hero and yet was so terrified of his quirk, Shouta took a breath and walked forward slowly, crouching down in front of Shinsou and not quite touching him, instead asking a soft, “Shinsou? Can you hear me?”

There was no response beyond the terrified mutters and apologies, Shouta making one last mental note to talk to Recovery Girl later for suggestions on how to help Shinsou deal with what he prayed was something that only recently developed.

Weighing a few choices quickly, Shouta finally settled for resting a hand on the back of Shinsou’s neck, the kid’s head half buried between his knees with how low to the ground he was crouched. The words all cut off and faded with a sharp silence at the physical contact, Shouta careful to keep his touch firm, but easy enough to slip away from.

“Shinsou, can you nod if you can hear me?” Terrified, half-glazed eyes darted up to him, a half-nod being given to him. Shouta felt something in him unwind just a small amount, a breath leaving him as he gave a nod himself. “Alright. I’m going to give you a set of instructions and I want you to follow them. Can you do that?” The nod came a bit quicker this time, Shouta grateful that Shinsou hadn’t yet completely lost himself to his panic.

“Good. Take a slow, deep breath in without rushing.” Shouta half-worried for a second that Shinsou would lose himself to his panic again before he saw the teen’s back slowly rise with the deep breath he was taking. “Good- That’s good. Now hold it for me, alright?”

Counting out five seconds in his head, Shouta lightly tapped the back of Shinsou’s neck, careful to not squeeze. “Now let it out slowly and steadily. Don’t rush it.” Waiting for a good seven seconds, Shouta gave Shinsou another tap. “Good job. Now, one more time, okay? Take another slow, deep breath in.”

Shouta ran Shinsou through the breathing exercises a couple more times before the teen seemed to start to come back to himself, Shouta deciding he was okay when all the panic had drained out of him in favor of embarrassment, a quiet, “Sorry.” leaving him.

“Kid- Shinsou,” Shouta waited until Shinsou was no longer looking away from him to continue. “I teach a heroics course at the most rigorous school for heroes in the country and deal with panicked and hurt civilians on a daily basis. This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with something like this and it won’t be the last.”

That, at least, seemed to help in some way, Shouta sighing as he finally sat down properly, feeling twinges of pain as his body readjusted to the new position. He watched as Shinsou copied him after a long moment, properly sitting on the floor with an expression that could only ever be called guilty.

“‘S not very heroic, though… being afraid of your own quirk.” Ah… so Shouta had been right, then. He wished had hadn’t been. “I mean- I should be over this. I should be over this!” The fight seemed to drain out of Shinsou as quick as it had riled him up, the kid looking the very picture of dejected. “Heroes aren’t supposed to have flaws like this.” Oh. Well, then. That was something, at least, that Shouta could help with.

“Shinsou, would you say that I’m a hero?” It was almost funny how quick the kid’s head snapped up, his eyes wide as he scrambled to answer.

“Of course! You’re one of the most successful underground heroes- You’d be in the top ten easily if you ever went public!” Hm. It was an effort to hide the laugh he wanted to give.

“Even though I suffer from chronic pain and narcolepsy?” Shouta didn’t make a habit of sharing his personal life with his students, but, well. Shouta had already made peace with the fact he was less of a teacher and more of a mentor to the kid.

Shinsou, for his part, was silent and still, eyes wide as he stared at Shouta before finally managing a quiet, “You… what?”

“It’s pretty common knowledge around the teachers and my students, at least, that the use of my quirk causes dry eye,” Shouta hummed, settling down and shifting to relieve some of the pressure on his right hip. “What’s not as well known is that I have a moderate to severe case of narcolepsy depending on the current state of my health and chronic pain in my joints that I’ve had since I was a teenager.”

Shouta wasn’t sure how to describe the look on the kid’s face, but it at least wasn’t anything bad. That was good enough. “So, after knowing all of my ‘flaws,’ do you still think I’m a hero?”

The silence lasted for only half a second more before Shinsou was looking like any other hero fan, “How could you not be a hero?! You’re basically running around and fighting quirkless while you’re always in pain! That’s incredible!”

Nemuri and Hizashi would get a kick out of this kid if Shouta ever made the mistake to let them meet, he mused to himself, but for now he batted the thoughts away and caught Shinsou’s gaze before letting himself show a small smile.

“And so are you.” The look that showed he wanted to argue was there on his face, but Shinsou stayed quiet. That was enough, for now. “Shinsou, you’ve told me enough about yourself that I can guess what you haven’t told me.” A ‘rough childhood’ probably didn’t even cover it, after what Shouta had seen. “You’re recovering, Shinsou, and recovery, no matter what else you’ve heard, is a process. You’re never going to wake up one day and be perfectly healed, and that’s fine.”

Shouta looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts and pushing himself to be just personal enough to get through the kid’s stubborn head. “There were a lot of times when I was your age that I thought of giving up. I had a quirk that didn’t offer me any physical strength, I had medical problems that were only getting worse, and I was further behind my classmates than anyone else. It would have been easy to give up and go do something that wasn’t so ‘dangerous.’”

“Why didn’t you?” Shinsou’s question was hushed and hesitant, as if afraid he wouldn’t get an answer. Honestly, he should have known by then that Shouta would never refuse to answer a question from him. “If… With all of that, how did you keep going?”

“I almost didn’t, but… I had friends who gave me the inspiration I needed to keep fighting.” There were some memories from that time in his life that hurt so deeply, even then, but others were the only thing to keep him going after some fights. “Those bonds gave me the strength and the inspiration to see that I could keep fighting.

“I wasn’t lying when I said recovery is a process, Shinsou. There aren’t always going to be happy days. There are going to be days where it feels like nothing will ever be good again, but those days end. Recovery is a battle that involves fighting back just as much as it involves resting and gathering your strength.”

Shouta blew out a breath, leaning back for a moment. “Recovery isn’t an end goal to achieve. It’s something you’re constantly working and improving on until you can go beyond all the limits you set for yourself. Understand?”

Shinsou was silent, an expression on his face that showed he was thinking over Shouta’s words carefully. Finally, after what could have been an eternity, Shinsou gave a tired, but real smile. “Plus Ultra, right?”

Shouta couldn’t have stopped his laugh if he tried, standing up and still chuckling as he ruffled the kid’s hair. “Yeah, kid. Plus Ultra.”

There was no doubt, after that, that Shinsou Hitoshi was going to be one of the best heroes Shouta had ever seen.

#shinsou hitoshi #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #shinson #dadzawa #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #original #my writing #recovery zine #recoveryzine

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dhwty-writes · 4 years

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Oh, I just read your vacation is a mess, I'm so sorry!! How about 6 (maybe with Jaskier?), I'm always down for 11, 27 is... oh yeah, 34 is pure chaos and I love it, 39 makes me!!!, 43 with sickness?

Whew, that’s quite a lot of prompts, thank you so much for them! Luckily, I hade quite a lot of time, too, so I’ll be queueing them up.

For the sick fic, feel free to check out Surprise the Child Surprise, there’s a sick!Jaskier in that one and I’m not sure if I’m up to writing another one without shamelessly copying that.

For now, here’s 6 - Jolting awake after a nightmare and being comforted.

Read on AO3

The man laid on his back, writhing in pain as an immortal warrior stood above him, her hands outstretched to deal the killing blow. "No," he begged, "no, please don't, please, mercy-"

Thick fog engulfed him, choking the air from his lungs, making him cough and wheeze, forgotten on a table with the faint scent of apple juice.

"Mercy?" a cruel man's voice mocked. "Who are you to deserve mercy? You're no son of mine."

"No," he pleaded again, "no, father, please. Please don't do this, you don't have to, you-"

"You are not worthy of my name, boy," he hissed. "You don't even remember it."

A boot hit him in his broken ribs but he barely registered it, the sharp ache of panic taking over. His name? What was his name? He had a name, he knew for sure, a proud name, and ancient, but he couldn't quite recall it. The air was growing thin. There was another name, too, a different name, a name he chose himself, free of all the duties and nightmares, a name to bring warmth and light and lo-

"Jaskier!"

Jaskier woke with a start, looking around frantically. "Wha-what?" he stammered, quickly taking stock of his surroundings. He was drenched in sweat, so much that for a moment he feared he wet his pants, and wouldn't that be embarrassing? "What's happening?" he tried again.

"You were shouting," a deep voice beside him said and before he could stop himself, he flinched. "I, uh- I tried to wake you up."

'Geralt,' he realised with relief and relaxed. Geralt, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from his body. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark — it had to be the dead of night, still — and he saw that the witcher had one hand outstretched and was still talking and-

"I'm sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought-" He moved to pull away, over to his own bedroll on the other side of the fire and panic welled up inside Jaskier again.

"Wait!" His hand shot out, grasping his wrist firmly. "Wait," he said weakly.

"You're scared," the witcher assessed.

"Yes."

Geralt winced.

It took Jaskier an embarrassingly long time to catch up with what was happening. "Not of you, you big oaf," he said softly. "I had a nightmare."

"Oh," the witcher said slowly. He seemed to hesitate before continuing: "Is there something I could do?"

A blush crept up his cheeks faster than he cared to admit. He quickly shook his head.

"You're embarrassed," Geralt noted.

"That's correct, too."

"So, there is something."

He chewed on his lip unsure. He imagined the blush on his cheeks grew brighter still, impossibly visible for Geralt to see. 'Melitele have mercy,' he thought.

"Jaskier," Geralt said imploringly. "I can still smell your fear. I can still see your embarrassment." He scooted closer and when Jaskier made no move to pull away he came closer still. "I've seen you drunk out of your mind, held you upright while you puked. I saw you stumble off a stage more times than I can count and caught you in someone's bed more times than you can count." He paused. "There's nothing you could ask for that you need to be embarrassed of."

"Nothing, huh?" Jaskier tried to tease, yet the suggestive smile that normally accompanied such a question didn’t quite rise to his lips.

"Nothing," Geralt confirmed seriously.

To his never-ending astonishment he managed to blush even more. 'No mercy for me then,' he decided. "You could, ah- You could hold me? Maybe?"

"Hmm," he said and for one terrifying moment Jaskier feared that the witcher would decline, regardless of the promise he'd made. Then: "Move over," he grumbled, "won't be sleeping on wet leaves because of this."

"O-okay." Relief rushed over him, the gruff tone much more like their usual conversations. 'When did this start to feel comforting?' he asked himself and quickly decided that it didn't really matter.

What mattered was that he moved over just like Geralt had asked him to and that he was pulled tightly against the witcher's chest, arms like iron bars, but not trapping him, never trapping him, instead keeping out whatever might cause harm. He realised very belatedly — after a few moments of struggling to fit into the bedroll together — that Geralt intended to sleep like that.

'Now, that's unusual,' he thought. 'Not that I'd complain, though.' It had been far too long since he fell asleep in a lover's embrace. 'Huh.' And wasn't that a strange thought?

'That's a dangerous thought,' he decreed. ''Cause we're not lovers. Never have been, never will be.' Not that he hadn't thought about it, that wasn't the issue at all. It was more that he had thought about it too much, and that Geralt had never made any indication, and that this, the witcher curled up around him was too close to forbidden fantasies, hidden from view for anyone but-

"Bard," Geralt grumbled, "you're thinking very loudly."

"Huh?" Jaskier made, ice cold fear gripping his heart. "What do you mean, thinking loudly? I'm not thinking loudly, I'm thinking very quietly, in fact, in the privacy of my own mind, so it would be appreciated if you kept your nose out of tha-"

"Jaskier," he sighed and buried his nose in his hair. Jaskier's heart skipped a beat. "Relax. You’re not relaxing. So. What're you thinking about?"

"I, uh- nightmare," he blurted before he could say anything more incriminating.

"Hmm." Geralt began tracing soothing patterns on Jaskier's arm. "Do you, uh- want to talk about it?" For a moment he wondered if this made the witcher feel just as fuzzy in the head as it made him.

"No, I don't think so." He sighed at the sensation of gentle, oh-so-gently fingers in his hair. After a moment of hesitation his resolve shattered and he leaned closer into the touch. "Pity your silver sword can't slay those monsters."

"Hmm." He thought he could feel lips ghosting over his hair. No, that had to be a mistake, surely. "Maybe your silver tongue can."

Jaskier's eyes shot open and he would've sat up if not for the unrelenting arms holding him down. Instead, he opened and closed his mouth uselessly. "Geralt, you- what-"

No, Geralt's lips were definitely pressed against his hair, he could feel the smirk, the bastard. "Speechless, bard?"

"Never!" he replied hastily, desperately trying to think of an answer to prove his point. He wasn't very successful. "You just caught me off guard," he tried.

"Hmm." He was very smug, the asshat. "Will try to warn you next time."

"Oh no. No, no, no," he babbled. He could do that very well. Babbling. At least that way he could try to save his face. "I won't be caught off guard ever again, thank you very much. Not now that I know that you are capable of such poetic lines."

"Hmm. We'll see about that," Geralt didn't sound any more convinced than Jaskier felt. The witcher tugged him closer against his chest. "Try to sleep now, Jaskier. There's still a few hours before dawn."

He knew that the witcher was right. Come sunrise they would set out again, in search of another contract, another adventure with monsters for Geralt to kill, and ballads for Jaskier to write. So, he tried to relax in his friend's arms, to the rhythm of deep breaths rustling his hair and soft circles drawn on his skin. It wasn't very hard.

He was almost asleep when Geralt moved one last time. This time there was no mistaking the soft kiss pressed to his cheek, nor the softer words that followed: "You're safe with me. Now, always, forever."

#my writing #geraskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geraskier fanfiction #this is just fluff #soft bois being soft #thanks for the prompts!#i'm having a lot of fun answering them

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1994sunflower · 4 years

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can i request something very angsty, for heaven to you? y/n has a pregnancy scare and tells her best friend, and her friend thinks michael wouldn’t be a good dad? 💙

this isn’t completely angsty/as angsty as i could’ve written it but i think especially with how the last part of the story ended, that’s a good thing.

i really loved exploring this part of their relationship though! thanks for the request.

in which you have a pregnancy scare

The knocking on Maia’s door was frantic. So much so that you worried she would be too frightened to open the door. But in this moment in time, you weren’t sure you knew how to be calm.

Your fingers hurt with how tightly you were holding the drugstore bag in your hand. The plastic rustled and it just served to make your already quick heartbeat thrum harder against your chest. Everything felt like it was different, your world suddenly felt alien to you.

You were going to knock again when the large door swung open and Maia stood staring at you with wide eyes. She looked very comfortable with a tank top and jean shorts, her dark skin glistening perfectly with the leftover pool water from her dip in it just a few hours before.

She looked nearly like your perfect opposite at that moment. Because while she looked like that, you had a frazzled look in your eyes, your hair was strewn messily on your head and you were wearing one of Michael’s old t-shirts with sweatpants.

“What is going on?” She said, her chocolate eyes furrowed in concern. “What are you doing here?”

This was your chance to share with someone, someone you trusted, for the first time the suspicion you’ve been having for weeks now.

“I think I’m pregnant.” You blurted it out so quickly you weren’t entirely sure you even said it.

But if you weren’t certain by your own cognition, you definitely were with how pale Maia’s face had gotten and how her mouth widened just as much as her eyes did.

“What?”

You entered into her familiar house even though she was still frozen in shock in her doorway. You didn’t bother waiting for her to snap out of it so instead you walked into her living room, shaking your head.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure. But my period’s really late and it’s usually so consistent.” You were still rambling when she walked in behind you. You placed the bag on her coffee table and took out the three different boxes of pregnancy tests you had bought. “Can I just find out here? Please?”

Maia wasn’t completely all there when she nodded. You could tell because her nod was slow and her eyes still looked as if they were waiting for you to say it was a joke. You couldn’t blame her, out of your group of friends, you were the last person anyone expected to get pregnant before getting married.

Even for you, it was a shock to even be in a scare right then. It wasn’t something you wanted right then and it wasn’t something you thought you’d ever have to worry about. You were careful and you knew the risks. But yet there you were, hyperventilating in your friend's house.

You had so much of your future left and a baby was not in the plans, not yet at least. It felt like everything you had planned so carefully for yourself was in very real danger and the fact that it wasn’t something you could control, in fact that it was an unknown right then, was terrifying. Your entire body felt like it was drenched in ice cold water.

But it wouldn’t be unknown for long. In just a few minutes you could know. And this entire nightmare could be over, maybe you’d even wake up in a cold sweat and this really would be all a dream. You took pointed breaths because without focusing, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Placing each test right after the other on the counter of Maia’s private bathroom, you didn’t know what to do. Should you stare and wait in the bathroom until all the tests revealed the answer that could change your life forever? Or should you leave and talk to Maia.

Your body knew that answer more than you did as you felt yourself reach for your phone. Once your hands grasped it, your eyes fluttered in dread. You knew what you had to do.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of Michael’s reaction, that he wouldn’t want to be involved, that he’d get mad or freak out. You knew he would be supportive no matter what. You picked a great boyfriend and you knew it. Hell, he might even be excited. He had spoken of getting you pregnant more than once and you knew even just the prospect of it would send him into a frenzy. It’d be the fact that you could be starting a life, a family together.

You could almost hear his protective words asking you if you’re alright, if you feel healthy or the way his eyes would darken at the thought of the kink you two shared finally, finally coming true. Everyone would know just exactly who had gotten you knocked up and his proud smirk he would wear would be the confirmation everyone needed.

But you didn’t want to get his hopes up. And frankly, you weren’t sure if telling him would make you confront the small part of you that wanted the same thing he did. Because a much bigger part of you was horrified by it. You weren’t ready, you needed to establish your career first. You needed to finish college first.

And there was always that risk that all those times he had talked about starting a family with you had been just a kink and nothing more. It was hot to think about, not so much to actually experience. There was that very real possibility that he didn’t want this and that it could ruin your relationship, irreparably so.

You took a deep breath, mostly to convince yourself before clicking on his name. No matter how it went, he should know. He had a right to know. And you knew he would provide the confidence and comfort you needed to get through the next few minutes of your life. The ringing sound of the FaceTime call was the only sound to convince you not to hang up, it was too late. He would be answering any second.

And right on cue, the ‘connecting’ came on screen followed shortly by Michael’s familiar and loving face. You almost melted right there as he smiled at you through the screen. His hair was in a black beanie and you could hear faint music in the background of his room. He looked great and content. You didn’t really want to think of just how much you were about to rock his world.

“Hi, princess.” His words were relaxed until he saw your face, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Your hands were shaking as you pushed some of your hair behind your ears, your nodding looked mechanical. When you spoke, the choked back panic was very obvious, especially paired with your watery eyes. “U-um, yeah. I just-I need to tell you something.”

Michael remained silent, nodding for you to continue. You could see the way his eyes ran up and down through the screen, likely trying to find anything physically wrong with you. His jaw was set and rather quickly, he became the serious Michael he was most of the time. The one that tended not to show much emotion and the one who intimidated anyone in his presence. The one everyone walked on eggshells around. Which definitely was not helping your already nervous mind.

In fact, as you took a few deep breaths to clear your throat enough to even feel capable of talking, your head felt like it was filled with static. Though you’d said the words once already, this time it would be very different. It could change everything, make it so much more serious. Because you’d be saying them to Michael, the father to your possible child.

“I think I might be pregnant.” It was hard to say it without crying or without stuttering, especially with your heart beating that fast in your chest. Harder still was forcing your breathing to keep steady. Your entire body was frozen as you waited for Michael’s reaction, hoping and praying that this wasn’t a big mistake.

Watching Michael face go slack for just a second, you feared it was, but then his eyes (which had begun staring off into the distance) snapped back to his screen, to you. And there was a lightness, and excitement, in them that had you releasing a relieved breath.

“Really?” Michael’s voice was even slightly higher than you’d ever heard it. A smile he was unable to hide taking up much of his face. “We’re going to be parents?”

You managed a small smile back. “I’m not sure, I’m at Maia’s right now and I’m going to take a few tests…”

“Let me know as soon as you find out.” Michael cut you off. His fingers ran through his hair, “Holy shit. You’re-You’re perfect, baby girl….You might be giving me a family. Something real. I love you so much.”

Your heart constricted tightly in your chest. You’d never seen him excited, and you were sure if you told anyone else of what you were witnessing they would call you a liar. The happiness he was exuding was contagious but it was also dangerous. Dangerous to feel hopeful or to want to feel hopeful. You’d been so adamant on not wanting it, but seeing your love’s face lit up with emotion and love for you quickly melted all that away.

It wouldn’t be so bad anyway. Michael would be amazing with you and your hypothetical baby. He was loving, protective and would be active and present. Best of all, he wanted this, he had let you know that on multiple occasions and he loved you enough to make everything work, including the plans you had already made for your future. It could all work out.

You nodded to the screen, “I’ll drop by after.” You promised.

Michael’s eyes watched your face carefully, wanting to memorize every bit of that moment. It wasn’t a given, there was still the possibility that you weren’t pregnant. But even just the thought of the chance was enough to send his thoughts running wild.

“Fuck.” One of his hands went to his forehead as if that could calm down his thoughts and emotions. “If you’re pregnant your stomach’s gonna get so big. And everyone’s going to see…know I’m the father.” You saw his eyes darkened as his mind strayed further into the fantasy. “You’re really going to be mine. Forever.”

You were smiling without meaning to. This is why you were so hesitant to tell him because now, you were seeing a part of yourself arise that wanted this just as much as he did. You wanted to start a family with him, be with him in an even deeper way than before.

Maia’s knock was what pulled you from that dream and back to the moment, to reality. The reality where you were very much still afraid and frazzled about how much your future could change in just a few moments. But at least now, you knew Michael would be there for you. Not for the first time did you feel lucky to have him as your boyfriend, as the man who held your heart.

After promising Michael (again) to let him know as soon as you knew anything, you hung up and opened the door. Your best friend entered the small bathroom and immediately made here way over to the bathtub, sitting on the edge of it. You didn’t miss the way her eyes fixated on the pregnancy tests on her counter before her eyes turned to you.

It wasn’t shame that made you look down to the floor as you made yourself comfortable by sinking down to sit, leaning your back against the counter. But it was a form of embarrassment. You couldn’t even imagine what she thought of you, though it wouldn’t be judgement, it might be disappointment. And you weren’t sure which was worse.

Maia was quiet for a moment before talking, “So? Are you preggos or not?”

You still couldn’t look at her when you shrugged, “They’re not all done yet, I only want to look when they’re all ready.”

Maia nodded, biting at her lower lip. “Well, considering everyone thought I’d be the first one in this position…..this is a pretty fun turn of events for me.” And when you didn’t laugh and her comment didn’t lighten the mood as she hoped, her shoulders slumped down. She was nothing if not a good friend. And she’d do anything to make you feel better, even poke fun of herself. Usually, it worked. Usually.

But since it didn’t now, she switched back to the more responsible, older girl that she was. “Y/N, how are you going through this right now? You were the responsible one, what happened? Do you not use protection?”

Your cheeks burned as you looked up at her, offended. “Of course we do! I’m on birth control.”

Maia hummed, her accusing tone was gone. “Does Michael know?” At your nod, she narrowed her eyes just slightly. “And you’re still sure about him?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyebrows were furrowed and you felt her words wound you deeply.

“I mean there’s a difference between messing around with someone like him and actually starting a family and having him be a father to your children.”

“Maia.” Your tone was low in warning towards your best friend. You weren’t sure you wanted to hear the rest of her thoughts, especially when anger was already starting to bubble up inside you. “I’m not just messing around with Michael, he’s my boyfriend and I love him.”

Maia shook her head and scoffed as if you were naive. “I’m not trying to offend you, you know I love you and want the best for you. That’s why I’m telling you Michael is not that, at least not for this.”

You knew she was never that fond of Michael. She’d met him a few times and each time you could see it in her eyes that she didn’t like him. But she tolerated him for your sake. You just never dreamed that it ran this deep.

“Y/N, be honest, do you really think he’d be a good dad?”

You got up then so that she would have to look up at you instead of the other way around. Your eyes were ablaze. “I do, actually. He’d be an incredible dad. And for the record, he’s already supportive, he’s excited.”

Maia stood up herself, her hands taking yours, trying to make you see her point of view. “I know you love him, okay? I get it even though I don’t…get it. I see the way you love him and he does care for you, I’ll give him that. But think about it. Do you really think someone that aggressive, mean and violent could be good for a child?” Her eyebrows were furrowed and she ever let your own, no matter how much you wanted to look away. “I’ve seen the way he acts, he can be cruel. I just don’t think a man like that is ready to have a family, let alone with someone like you.”

“He’s never been violent to me.”

You couldn’t help the tears in your eyes. Her disparaging comments about someone you loved so much that you had dreamed about starting a family with was painful. Even more so that it was coming from someone you had at such a high regard because she was there for you throughout your entire life. You’d known each other since elementary school. So how could she be trying to tear down something so beautiful and pure in your eyes like your relationship with Michael was?

Could she be right? He was a lot of what she said. He was mean, violent and at times impulsive. Part of you knew she had a point. You didn’t grow up in that type of environment and you wouldn’t want your kid to either. No matter how much you loved Michael. Your heart felt constricted at the thought. Were you really making a wrong choice by making all these plans with something who wasn’t good for you in the long run?

Suddenly, all the reassurance Michael had given you, the confidence you had dealing with this mess was torn away. In its place was insecurity and a looming sense of doom because if you were making a wrong decision, then nothing in your life truly made sense to you.

But you couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t that way with you and that was what mattered. He treated you like you were made of glass and he loved you so strongly that it was all you needed, all you ever wanted. And if truth comes to shove, you weren’t ashamed to admit that you liked how different you were. You liked how you were his soft spot, the exception to all of his dangerous antics.

Michael was your rock. He protected you and supported you through everything. The pure adoration and love in his eyes when he saw you made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. The way he treated you, gentle and sweet compared to the rest of the world made you feel like a queen. He protected you even from himself, refusing to let you do anything dangerous or see him at his angriest because he didn’t want to scare you. He was your perfect opposite and you each brought out the best qualities in the other. He was perfect for you.

She didn’t know him.

“He’s been arrested, Y/N. I don’t even know how hasn’t flunked out of university by know, honestly. But you? You actually have a future, you can do everything you dreamed about. Don’t let his excitement to bring you down with him mess with your mind.”

You snatched your hands out of her grasp sharply. Your face was scrunched up in anger at the girl in front of you, the one that was supposed to understand you and support everything you did. Not shame you for everything you loved. You were used to it by now. Most of the people in your life had told you their opinions on Michael but never so cruelly.

“How dare you.” You yelled. “You don’t know anything about my relationship or about Michael. He does nothing but support, encourage and love me and all of my accomplishments. So yes. I do think he’d be a good father. He’d do anything to give me and our..” You chuckled humorlessly, “hypothetical family everything. Michael has proven that he wouldn’t abandon me for anything and he wants me to reach all of my dreams, not try to ‘bring me down with him.’ He didn’t get mad or break up with me when I told him like all of your bad choices would have if you were in my position. He gave me the reassurance I needed that everything would be okay, either way this can go.”

“Y/N-” Maia said but you weren’t done.

“So don’t you dare tell me my boyfriend would be a bad father or that he isn’t good for me. Because guess what? I’m planning on marrying him, on making a life with him. Whether it’s now or not, get used to the idea.”

The tears were streaming down your face freely. You had come to be supported not to be shamed. All you wanted to do was be in Michael’s comforting arms, feel protected in his presence and be made to laugh and feel loved in the way only he was capable of making you feel. That was how you knew Michael would be a good dad. And that was why, when your phone’s alarm went off, you didn’t feel that large dread looming over your head. Either way, you’d have Michael. If you were pregnant, you’d be able to make a family with him. If you weren’t, you’d be able to finish your plans and start a family with him in the future. There was no losing.

No matter what everyone else thought.

☼

When you unlocked the front door of Michael’s home, the last thing you wanted was to see Ashton sitting on the couch with three other boys. For once you needed privacy with Michael but it seemed that wasn’t possible.

Your only solace was when Michael opened the door to his shut bedroom. You saw the way the boys on the couch all turned their eyes to him, greeting him in a way to show that they had been hoping to see his face all along.

But unfortunately for them, the stone faced Michael didn’t even glance at them. Instead, he went straight to you and you felt your heart swell as you looked up at him. Just feeling him near you, even looking so serious and cold like he usually did in front of others, made you feel better about the conflicting and emotional day you’d had. But they did bring back the jarring words Maia had used: dangerous, aggressive, reckless. You shook those thoughts away. That wasn’t who Michael was, it wouldn’t the environment you would be raising your child in if you were pregnant, you knew that. Or maybe you hoped that.

You let him wrap his arms around you and guide you into his room, keeping you closely at his side. He didn’t let you go until you’d gotten inside and he closed the door. He held you at arms length to be able to fully see your face as he leaned against the now closed door.

“Well?” His eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign of what the tests had said.

But all you did was shake your head before walking into his arms, loving the way his arms immediately wrapped around your small frame and held you closer. His chin rested on the top of your head as he leaned down over you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled against his gray t-shirt.

“For what?” His heartbeat was steady and you felt comforted by it.

“You were excited.” And you couldn’t deny the tinge of disappointment you felt when Maia turned over the tests for you, since you were too nervous to do it yourself, and they all read NEGATIVE. It was a good thing, really. You knew that especially when Maia sighed in relief and hugged you as an apology. But you had allowed yourself to imagine sharing something to precious with your love and it was hard not to think about what could have been. Even if it wasn’t at a good time for either of you.

You felt Michael shake his head before he buried and nuzzled his face deeper into your hair. “Only because of what it meant. But it’s okay. I’m not disappointed, little one. I know you weren’t entirely ready for it. It’ll happen, I’m gonna get you pregnant eventually. You’ll carry my children one day and we’ll have a family together. You’re going to give me a family.”

Your heart was soaring at his reassurances, the way he held you so right that you couldn’t imagine feeling insecure or upset in his arms. Not when he was so understanding and there for you through everything. How could Maia or anyone think otherwise? You hadn’t totally forgiven her when you left her house. In fact, you barely spoke unless it was to say goodbye. But if anything she was was true it was that you weren’t ready. But you would be.

Pulling away from his arms, your hand ran up and down his shoulders and chest. Nodding, you smiled up at him through tear rimmed eyes. But they weren’t sad tears like they were in Maia’s, they were proud tears. Pride that you had chosen the right boyfriend, one that would always put you first.

“We’ll get there, just not anytime soon.” You didn’t tell him about Maia or her comments, it would hurt his feelings even if he’d never show it, make him insecure in a way you never wanted him to be. So you didn’t mention it as if it didn’t exist because you planned on filing it in your memories just like that, something that didn’t happen.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled it so his hand was to your stomach with yours on top of his. “And you’ll get to see me nice and round for you like you always say. Make everyone jealous that you made me like that.”

Michael’s eyes were surprised to hear those words come out of your mouth, his kink had always been something only he brought up. But it seemed that it was now something both of you shared. Especially knowing that it would cheer him up because no matter how much he wanted to act like he was unaffected, you saw the way his shoulders slumped just slightly, you felt the slowness of his actions to hug you when you walked into his arms.

He was just as disappointed as you were, if not more. Because he would love nothing more than to see you pregnant with his child, to show you off to everyone to see that he, no matter how fucked up he was, had the best thing in the world to call his own - you. They’d all see just how much you loved each other, how much he tainted you, how good he made you feel, filled you up with his cum. And you, amazing as you were, were giving him the best gift of all - a family.

But right then, he groaned possessively under his breath before moving down so his lips were close to yours. His hand running along the span of your stomach. “That just gives us more time to practice, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips as he kissed you. The earlier doubts Maia had planted in you were gone. There was no doubt in your mind Michael would be your husband and father of your children. And he’d be a great one. Even through the differences between the two of you and what others see in him.

Even if Maia’s words still echoed in the back of your mind.

#5sos #michael clifford x reader #bad boy michael #5sos imagines #michael clifford #michael clifford smut #5sos smut #bad boy smut

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wellthatjusthappend · 4 years

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A/B/O verse where Tim runs away from home and meets Jason in Crime Alley. Jason takes him in and provides for him as much as possible, he does anything to keep Tim safe. He accompanies Tim on his adventures to take pictures of Batman. He makes sure Tim has at the very least two meals a day. Tim likes having Jason as an older brother. For once in his life he feels loved and wanted. He wants to protect Jason so much.

I love found family troupes so much. Be ready for the angst.

****

The thing about asking questions was you had to live with the answers.

For Tim, it started with a passing thought: If I disappeared, would anyone miss me?

Ridiculous, he told himself. His parents were very busy people, and sure they weren’t particularly demonstrative in their affection, but that didn’t mean they didn’t love him. He was being needy and dramatic, the way kids were on TV. Tim was more mature than that, he didn’t need to go whining to anyone about not getting enough attention.

But the question lingered all the same, until one day Tim finally decided to test it out.

He packed his bag with the essentials, carefully portioned out several meals from the leftovers in the fridge, and crawled out his window into the night. It was summer, so there would be no school ringing his parents to tattle on his attendance, it would be up to them to notice. They were very busy people, so Tim decided to give them 3 days to notice that he was gone.

Perhaps it was cruel, but Tim had to know.

He settled himself under a bridge where there was a small cove carved out where the beams met the bank. Too small most of the homeless population to utilize, but perfect for a child his size. He’d found the spot when he’d been taking pictures of Batman and Robin on the river, and he was grateful for it now.

He was closer to Crime Alley than any sane person would probably choose, but the knowledge that he could probably find Batman somewhere near if anything did go wrong made him feel safer than just about anywhere in the city.

The first day passed without event. Tim brought things to do and he spent much of the day dozing lightly and watching the ships pass by his hidden spot. The second day boredom started to set in and Tim emerged for a bit to skip rocks and float paper boats on the water. He was restless, but he didn’t want to leave his spot in case someone came and stole his stuff.

What the heck was he doing? So his parents might ignore him, but he still had a roof over his head and access to all sorts of things through his parents' wealth. He could do pretty much whatever he wanted, why was he jeopardizing all that by pulling such a rebellious stunt.

His mother would be so disappointed with him, and Tim could feel his anxiety start to bubble up at the thought.

On the third day, he met Jason.

Tim had been running out of food a little earlier than he’d expected, and he decided to risk leaving his spot to buy some snacks. When he came back, he found the older boy sitting outside his spot, smoking a cigarette, several other boys knocked out cold on the banks.

Tim thought about bolting, but the the other boy didn’t look like he meant Tim any harm, so approached cautiously.

“So you’re the runaway,” the boy said lazily, “You should be more careful flashing your money and toys around here. It’ll get you into trouble fast.”

“Were… these guys were going to steal from me?” Tim said uncertainly, edging around the bodies.

“Or kidnap you,” the other boy said with a careless shrug, “if there wasn’t a reward from your rich parents out, then they would probably make a good buck on you in the black market. You’re certainly pretty enough.”

“Oh, well, thanks for saving me, I guess,” Tim said, carefully edging around the boy to check his stuff. Nothing had been stolen, though the boy had had ample opportunity to do so.

“My name’s Jason,” the boy volunteered suddenly, “This part of town can be real dangerous for a kid like you. I won’t ask why you ran away, but if you ever need help, you should be able to find me somewhere around Crime Alley.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Tim said, promising himself that he’d never take him up on that.

Jason nodded to himself, and put his cigarette out and wandered off without a backward glance.

Tim didn’t feel like lingering in his spot waiting for the unconscious men to wake up, so he packed up his remaining belongings and headed back into town. It’d been long enough anyway, it was time to go home.

Tim slipped through his window and set his bag down. He breathed out a long sigh, releasing tension he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He knew he was safe here, and that perhaps was something he’d never quite appreciated before.

But more importantly…

His room looked completely undisturbed, just the way he left it. Tim wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Feeling uneasy, Tim crept downstairs where he could hear his parents moving about.

“Mom?” he called.

“Not now Tim, can’t you see I’m busy?” his mother covered the mouthpiece to the phone and gave him an annoyed look.

“I-” Tim felt like he was shrinking in on himself, all the while something big and horrible was swelling in his chest.

“Tim, you’re filthy, what have you been rolling around in,” his mother wrinkled her nose, “never mind, go wash up immediately before you track dirt all over the house.”

“Yes, Mom,” Tim mumbled and hurried away.

He found his dad packing a suitcase, and mumbling things under his breath.

“You’re leaving?” Tim blurted.

“Oh yes,” his father said happily, “Your mother found the most wonderful opportunity for us in Suriname. We’ll have to tell you more about it when we get back, but it looks really promising.”

No mention of Tim’s absence was mentioned. It was clear he hadn’t noticed either.

“Don’t worry, kiddo, it’ll only be a few weeks this time,” his father patted his shoulder, “And we’ll have Mrs. Mac come watch you again. You like her, right?”

They hadn’t noticed when he was gone, and they were planning on leaving him again.

“Yes, Dad,” he mumbled, and went up stairs as quickly as he could.

Tim went through the motions of cleaning himself up as his mother had asked, all the while feeling sick to his stomach.

Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.

If I disappeared, would anyone miss me? He’d wanted that fear to be refuted… he hadn’t actually thought it would be confirmed. But no one had missed him. Had he done something wrong? Why didn’t his parents… did they even want him? It seemed like as it was, he was an unwanted distraction from the things that they really wanted to be doing.

Well Tim got his answer, for better or for worse, and now… he had to decide what to do with it.

Before he knew it, he was repacking his bags, this time taking the important things like his poster of Halley’s Circus and his photos. He felt numb while he did it, but he couldn’t care. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay in that house any longer.

Before he knew it, he was tracking down Jason’s squat in an old abandoned building in Crime Alley.

“Well come in,” Jason said, hardly raising an eyebrow when he saw him.

Before Tim knew it, he was spilling everything to the older boy. They could be a huge mistake, he barely knew Jason, but he felt good and Tim knew he was never going to make it on his own on the streets without help.

“You’re parents are a piece of work,” Jason whistled, though his eyes hard light to them, “not that I can talk, mine were a whole different brand of shitty before they kicked it.”

“I don’t mean to complain, I know it must sound silly to you- so many people have it so much worse than me-” Tim mumbled to the ground, shoulders coming up around his ears.

“So? It’s not a competition,” Jason shrugged, “Look, kid, you’re what, 6?”

“10,” Tim mumbled.

“Right, but you’re a kid. And kids shouldn’t need to do anything special to deserve attention and all that shit from their parents,” Jason said firmly, “That’s not how that family stuff works. I can’t say that you won’t ever regret leaving them, especially all that money, but I can tell you that it’s always better with people who actually care about you.”

“Nobody’s going to want me,” Tim said hopelessly, “I’m weird and awkward, everyone says so. Maybe I’m just not meant for this stuff.”

“What “stuff”? Love? Happiness?” Jason snorted, “You’re human kiddo, everyone needs that “stuff”.”

“But what am I supposed to do?”

“Be yourself,” Jason shrugged.

“What if that’s not good enough?” Tim asked.

“It will be,” Jason promised, “You’ve already got me, don’t you?”

The words were like a shot of adrenaline. Or maybe terrified hope.

“I do?”

“Yeah,” this time Jason looked a little rueful, “If you want. I can show you the ropes, make sure you’re getting food and all that. I know we don’t know each other all that well, but I like you good kid. You’re alright by me.”

“Really?”

“Tim, you’re breaking my heart here,” Jason said with a pained laugh.

“Sorry,” Tim mumbled, looking back at the ground. He was too much, he knew he was too much-

“You’re fine, kiddo,” Jason ruffled his hair, “Sides, I always did want a little brother.”

Oh. Oh.

“I won’t let you down,” Tim promised.

“You and me, we’ll stick together, yeah?” Jason said, bumping shoulders with him.

“Yeah,” Tim said shyly, trying not to cling.

“And I’ll look out for ya, little bro, that’s a promise,” Jason said, “We’ll be each other’s family from now on.”

“Ok,” Tim said, a warm feeling spreading in his chest.

Family. He thought he left that behind, but perhaps Jason could show him what that really means.

#story prompts #my writing #found family #running away from home #neglect #Anonymous #story requests

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wissbby · 4 years

Text

"The hospital is a magical place.” - Akaashi Keiji

A couple of weeks ago I wasn’t doing great. I felt disconnected from my body and was mentally exhausted which brought me to one of my lowest points in life. The love of my life, also known as @dreamykou, wrote me a lovely motivational description which brought me back to my senses. Since writing is almost always my way out, I decided to turn her words into this little fiction. Thank you, my love, for giving me the strength to pull through. I’ll literally never forget that message. I didn’t proof read it so I’m sorry if there are mistakes in here!

Date: the fifth of July, 2020 Warnings: fluff Word count: 2.4K

“Hi, Yuna.” Akaashi felt the white walls coming towards him, swallowing him whole. Even after coming here frequently, he never got used to the strong smell of chemicals. In a place like this, hygiene was the number one priority. Yet, he couldn’t get used to the smell.

“Oh,” Yuna smiled when she saw the person who the voice belonged to. “Hello there, Akaashi.” She immediately noticed the way he switched from breathing through his nose to breathing from his mouth. The fact her colleague’s spouse hated the smell of the hospital was known by the whole division.

“Is Y/n here?” The question was directed at Yuna, but Akaashi’s eyes were looking into the different corridors in the hope of seeing your angelic face again.

He had brought you flowers.

The previous night wasn’t as great as Akaashi hoped. You had told him about this surgery months ago. It was a dangerous one and there was a slim chance of the boy getting out of the operation room alive.

He knew you had your heart in the right place. That’s why you were sulking all night about the little boy. You couldn’t sleep and Akaashi grew worried.

“You need sleep to function tomorrow, love.” You were sitting at the kitchen table, a book in front of you with a half-filled mug with coffee beside it.

“I know, I just can’t fall asleep. I could read about techniques to use tomo-“ Before you could read on about the different doctors who had performed the same surgery, a hand grabbed your wrist.

“No,” Akaashi had whispered out, stern but caring.

“Akaashi, do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be tomorrow? The chance of the kid dying in front of my eyes is bigger than him walking out alive.” Most of the time, you and Akaashi were on the same page about different topics. Akaashi was one of the few people with great understanding and patience. However, this was different. For the first time in years, there was understanding but no support for your choices.

“I know, love. That doesn’t change the fact you need sleep to function.” Somehow he finally managed to get your body into bed, at the very least. Nevertheless, you could not sink into the soft mattress, the stress and fear stuck to you.

With a sigh, Akaashi sat up and pulled you into his arms. You leaned against him, eyes drooped and covered by a thin layer of glossy tears.

"I'm scared, Akaashi," you confessed. Years into the relationship, it was still as surprising as ever if you would show your emotions to him. He always knew you could never easily show your emotions, let alone your weaknesses.

“I know you are.”

“What if I let him die? I don’t want him to die. He is young and has a whole life in front of him. I don’t want to be the one taking that away from him.” The words hit the man hard. He never expected you to blame yourself for something that would happen beyond your power.

“You’ll never be the one taking his life away. You’re there to help the kid. And yes, the chances are slim. However, that doesn’t change the fact you’re not and will never be the one who killed him if he actually does die. In fact, you’ll help him, even if he dies. You gave him and his family hope, a second chance of living if it all works out.”

Akaashi wanted to promise you that it was going to be just fine.

But he couldn’t. Because he couldn’t promise everything would be “just fine”.

If Akaashi promised you something, he would always fulfill his promise.

“Are those beautiful flowers for your beloved Y/n?” a light chuckle flew into the air.

“Ah,” Akaashi laughed, hand automatically crawling to the back of his neck to scratch it. “She just had a rough night, that’s all. I wanted to give her these flowers to tell her she has done something amazing, no matter the outcome.”

“That’s adorable. You guys literally make me want to get my own spouse and gag at the same time.”

“I guess you want to know where she is? Room 143, she was done but told me she went and stayed for a bit longer.” Yuna knew what the outcome of the surgery was and she couldn’t suppress the smirk that crawled up her face.

However, Akaashi being Akaashi, didn’t question it any further.

So, with the bouquet of flowers in his hand and sweat collectively coming together in the palm of his hands, he wandered through the empty, white corridors.

⇜ “How do you like the smell of a hospital?” Akaashi’s eyebrows were knitted together, a questionable look taking over his features.

“I don’t know, I just do.” You chuckled lightly, swinging your arms back and forth, tilting your head slightly back to bask into the fresh ray of sunshine.

“The fact that isn’t even the weirdest thing about you scares me.”

“Oh, what is the weirdest thing about me, Keiji?” At the beginning of your relationship, Akaashi was very private. He kept a lot to himself and didn't share much. Later, he began to see that a relationship had to come from two sides. Not long after, you got to see all sides of your spouse.

“You told me you got a calm feeling every time you walk through the hospital. It freaks me out.” You would lie if you said you weren’t surprised by hearing him recall that. It had been a while back since you’d stated that. It only showed how much your love actually paid attention.

“What’s so scary about that?”

“I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe because hospitals are filled with death, blood and fatality.” In Akaashi's eyes, his statement seemed self-evident. Every day dozens of people died in the building and the white walls became terrifying as the night approached and no one walked through the corridors except for some of the staff.

“That indeed is true. However, hospitals are also filled with hope, life, love, laughter and stories. A hospital is a magical place, you just need to see it.” ⇝

“One thirty-nine, one forty, one forty-one, one forty-two.. one forty-three!” Akaashi whispered as his eyes passed the tiny signs with the numbers carved in them.

As he got closer to the small room, he noticed the door was left open just enough to fit half a body.

Room 143. Akaashi knew exactly whose room it was.

He was ready to prepare himself mentally for one of your breakdowns. He knew how much you cared for the little boy that you got assigned and was not ready to lose in the OR.

To confirm his expectation, he peeked into the room, heart siphoning an immense amount of blood through his veins.

When he didn’t see the scene that he had created in his head in front of him, he let out a breathe he didn’t know he was holding onto.

You were kneeled beside the hospital bed with the little kid laying underneath layers and layers of blankets. The boy’s nostrils flared, eyebrows high and rounded, eyes shot and a mouth wide open while a fit of laughter slipped right out.

Akaashi didn’t miss the way a warm smile crept up your lips and how the mother of the child held onto the father a little tighter while tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes.

And that’s when Akaashi realised what you meant. Hospitals could indeed be a magical place.

His eyes noticed your hand disappearing into the pocket of your white doctor’s coat. Your thumb and index finger had captured a white stick to present it to the little boy who had opened his eyes in the meantime.

“You’re actually not supposed to eat sweets,” you snickered. “But because you are my favourite, I’ll let it slide this one time!” With a playful smile painting your lips, you handed the red lollipop to your patient.

The boy had twinkling eyes and a tongue sweeping across his lips. He gratefully wrapped his tiny hand around the white stick.

It was late and time to end your twenty-eight-hour shift. You replaced the playful smile with a gentle and heart-warming one.

“Akaashi-sensei!” Once the kid noticed you were about to leave, he couldn’t help but crave one more thing. “Thank you.”

It was something simple, something everyone would expect to hear after helping another.

But this was different.

You had met him for the first time eight months ago. He was hard to get to talk because of his shyness. So, to say the least, a “thank you” coming from his mouth and not his parents’ was surprising.

Your smile grew bigger to the point it started to hurt. Ruffling his soft, brown locks was the very first time he didn’t shy away from your touch.

“You did great, Izumi-kun,” you complimented him. “Now, get some rest and save your lollipop for tomorrow. But don’t show my colleagues; you don’t want me to get in trouble, right?” Izumi shook his head violently after processing the last sentence. Chuckling, you turned to the parents that bowed forty-five degrees.

“Thank you so much for your help. We will forever be grateful for your work.”

You never liked the way people looked up to you for doing something that was simply your job.

Bowing just as respectfully, you spoke up, “It was no problem. I’m just as happy the operation went well as you are.” Making eye contact with two pair of eyes that stared right back at you with multiple emotions held inside of them, you felt yourself getting warm.

“I’ll be back in two days. The nurses will check up on him and make sure everything is going as planned during the time that I’m gone. If there’s anything I can do for you or Izumi-kun, I’m always there to answer your questions.”

Just as you were about to leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist. The source tried to pull you into its direction but there was no intensity to get you where he wanted.

With raised brows and wide eyes, you felt how two arms were wrapped around you securely. Looking down, you saw Izumi’s arms, that were full of needles that fed him the insulins he needed, wrapped around your waist.

The warmth of the boy swallowed you whole. And for the first time since twenty-eight hours, you felt a wave of relief washing over you.

A thin layer of salty tears stung your eyes as you returned the warmth.

It took the both of you a little bit to let go of one another.

“Have a good night, Izumi-kun.” With those words and a heart-warming smile plastered on your face, you left the room, eyes fixated on the white shoes that belonged to the hospital.

You stopped dead in your tracks after walking a bit further away from room 143. Everything sunk in deep and you finally had a moment to let your mind race and take its time to bring itself to ease by progressing everything that happened from the restless night to the moment you gave Izumi a lollipop.

Pushing your body against the white wall behind you and sliding down against it, gave you the peace you craved.

Quiet moments like these always hit the hardest. And it wasn’t much different today.

The tears started flowing over the edge of your bottom eyelid, all the stress, frustration and relief washing away with the salty droplets. The walls, the walls that hold you up, that make you strong in front of your patients collapsed right then and there. Second by second, you see them falling, the bricks smashing against the ground and dividing into millions of pieces right in front of you.

Salty drops travel along your cheeks, falling from your chin and entering the fabric of your white doctor’s coat. It was then that you realised there was an iota of blood on it. The bloodstain got watered down by the tears and expanded in its size, the dark red colour turning into a lighter shade.

“My love,” you heard your lover’s voice call out. Rubbing the salty fluid out of your eyes, you looked up to see if you weren’t hallucinating things due to being sleep deprived.

But you weren’t hallucinating, Akaashi really stood there.

You quickly stood up, bewildered by his sudden appearance.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes started watering again after seeing his eyes filled with warmth, worry and relief.

Akaashi took a few steps forward, handing you the bouquet he had bought you.

“They are Gladioli. In Rome, gladioli were associated with gladiators. Some say that gladiators wore gladiolus corms around their necks during battles to help them win and protect them from death. Because of their association with gladiators, the gladiolus flower meaning is strength and integrity,” Akaashi rambled, nothing more than anxiety and love being projected into his irises.

He loved you so much, it hurt.

“You’ve been so strong and I’m so proud of you. You’re always there for everyone and ready to help. That’s one of the million reasons I love you.” Akaashi saw your emphasised pockets, plaintive, painful eyebrows, relaxed jaw, eyes that could barely stay open and a slightly drooped head. Despite your tired expression, he could feel the love radiating from you.

“Keiji,” you whispered out, tears now uncontrollably streaming down your face. You buried your face in the bouquet, shoulders shaking and sobs decorating the silence in the white corridors.

In next to no time, you felt two strong arms wrapping themselves around your waist. Akaashi’s heart shattered into pieces when he felt your body giving up on you, the exhaustion finally catching up on you.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Even though it was said like a question, it was nothing more than a warning demand, a reminder to show you he cared.

“Yes, yes please.”

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fluffykitty1999-blog · 3 years

Text

Burned Chapter 15

Roy had been expecting a call in the wee hours of the morning. Even if there wasn't any news on the case, just an update, something- from Hughes.

They'd gotten home around midnight. Ed had grabbed a brief shower- it'd taken awhile to scrub the dirt and blood off himself, Roy had assumed- but the boy had made an appearance in the kitchen, looking cleaner, but exhausted.

He'd managed to coax the boy into drinking half a cup of tea- with a splash of milk disguised by copious amounts of honey- before convincing him to head upstairs, because it was investigation's department, and there was nothing he'd be able to do anyways.

Roy had fallen asleep downstairs on the couch, waiting for the phone call from Hughes that never came. He woke up at 3:13am with a sore back from falling asleep slumped over. He slogged upstairs, still just as exhausted and frustrated as when he'd fallen asleep.

He noticed a light creeping under the door of the other bedroom- Al's room- and he frowned, lightly knocking on the door.

"Come in." Al's muffled voice replied.

Roy did. Al was seated in the center of the room cross-legged, various research reports and open books spread out on the floor around him.

"Is everything okay, Colonel?"

"Yeah. I was just heading to bed and noticed the light was on. Wanted to make sure you were alright." only now, it was dawning on him that Alphonse didn't sleep. When he'd first begun staying at Roy's home, he'd turn his lights out at night, but as he'd grown more comfortable, he'd taken to quietly reading and doing small tasks at night.

"Oh yes, I'm fine. Colonel... is brother okay? I saw him when he came in- he was covered in blood. And I know he's not hurt, but he wouldn't talk to me about it. He just went right to bed. He only keeps things from me that are bad. Horrible, even. Because he doesn't want to upset me. But I notice. This has something to do with the ladies that keep getting killed, doesn't it?"

Roy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. How was it he always underestimated Alphonse Elric at every turn? When he'd first met the boy- an eleven year old with a soul trapped in a suit of armor who passed the written state alchemist's exam- to now- the perceptive child sitting on his floor, reading during the day and night because it was physically impossible for him to sleep.

He was too tired to come up with a decent lie. And besides, the way those quiet soulfire eyes bore into his own, he knew Alphonse wouldn't believe it, anyways.

"Yes, Alphonse, it is. Hughes and I have been trying to keep your brother out of it- but tonight he found a body. Hughes is handling it. In fact- I'm expecting a call from him anytime now. If the phone rings and I don't get it- will you get it for me?"

"Of course." Alphonse sounded much cheerier at this- he just liked to be kept in the loop, Roy realized. Knowing Ed, he tried to shield Al from anything not related to them getting their bodies back- he felt the military issues were his cross to bear, and his alone. It wasn't true- Alphonse was more than willing to help his brother- but Ed felt it was his responsibility, his duty, as the older brother to keep Al away from such things.

Still, that wasn't a problem he could solve tonight anyways. And with Alphonse awake and ready to answer the phone, he was free to go to bed. The day had been exhausting.

"Thanks. Goodnight, Alphonse."

"Goodnight, Colonel."

Roy quietly shut the door behind him and started towards his room. He was about halfway down the hall but stopped past the door of Ed's room when he heard a muffled whimper. He paused, sighing, before he palmed the door open and stepped into the darkness quietly. Ed was curled beneath the blankets, but after a day as hard as this, it wasn't hard to see the kid was probably going to have nightmares.

Ed was wrapped in the sheets, his blond hair strewn about behind him on the pillow. His hands grasped at the sheets and he squirmed slightly in his sleep, a half-sob half whimper breaking the quiet of the night as his legs twitched restlessly.

"Easy, Ed. It's alright, buddy." Roy picked his way over beside the bed, his earlier exhaustion forgotten.

In the early days, when Ed had first been healing here, he'd learned that during nightmares, speaking to Ed could calm him down adequately. He understood the fear of being in the dark and alone- hearing someone talking to you made the darkness less lonely, and not nearly as terrifying.

"I know. You had a real rough day today. We all did. But you the most, probably." Roy was beside the bed, now, and he reached over, gently brushing the boy's bangs away from his face. Ed's breathing had slowed slightly, and his face was no longer screwed up in distress, though he was still breathing fast and his fingers still worried the sheets slightly.

"You did good though. You were scared- I know you were scared- but you stayed calm. Calmer than me, in fact. When I saw you come in covered in blood- I thought I was going to faint. I was scared I'd lost you all over again."

Roy paused mid-way to brushing Ed's hair from his face, realizing his hand was shaking. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he continued, reaching down to gently brush Ed's golden locks aside, more as a gesture of affection now than to be able to see Ed's face.

"I'm proud of you, Ed. Of how far you've come- you've always been a brave, stubborn little brat- but seeing you grow up into the alchemist I knew you could be- I never knew how rewarding that'd be."

Ed let out a long breath- he was no longer panting anxiously. Roy cracked a slight smile. Ed was relaxing- yet again it was proof that just talking to the boy was enough to calm him down. With Ed's face relaxed, he wiggled his toes beneath the blankets and shifted slightly, snuffling into the pillow. it was cute, almost. Roy couldn't help but smile. Ed looked so much younger while he slept.

He pulled out the chair he kept in the corner of the small bedroom, sitting down heavily and blinking.

"You don't have to be so strong you know. You're only a kid. You don't have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders. I mean, I understand trying to protect Al, but you're human- you're just a kid. You aren't alone. You have me. And the team. Just... try not to be such a hero, kid. It never got me anywhere."

He sighed, leaning back in the chair. The weariness that'd been slowly stalking him overtook him once again, settling deep into his bones. He'd just rest his eyes for a moment, and then head off to his own room for the night...

"Hey. Hey Roy, wake up! Hey!"

"Brother, you really should be nicer..."

"This IS nice Al! I made him toast! I don't just do this for anyone!"

Roy peeled his eyes open to see Edward, clad in black jeans and a loose-fitting T-shirt, with his hair in pony tail and a plate full of toast in hand, with Al behind him in the doorway.

"Besides, he's the one who fell asleep in my room!"

"...in my house." Roy groused, reaching up to scrub an eye with one hand. The crick in his back felt much worse, now.

"You're awake!" Al chorused, sounding pleased.

"Eat this toast. I made it myself cuz you pretty much died in the chair."

Roy opened his mouth to yawn, only to have a piece of toast shoved in his mouth. He started coughing.

"Brother!" Al scolded.

"What? I'm feeding him breakfast. That's what you're supposed to do!"

Roy coughed, spitting out the toast slice in one hand and swallowing the bite in his mouth.

"Yeah, it's good. Chewy, though..."

"That's cuz I put peanut butter on it." Ed beamed. "We're out of bread, by the way." he looked a little sheepish.

Roy frowned, becoming more awake by the second. "Why do I smell smoke?"

"We put out the fire!" Alphonse chimed in, trying to be helpful.

"Don't tell him that!" Ed protested.

Roy frowned. How was it 2 alchemist protegees couldn't make toast without nearly burning his house down?

Still, he had bigger things to worry about. "What time is it?"

"Noon. You pretty much died in the chair, like I said. And Alphonse found a cat, and I don't like it, but he put it in the living room anyways."

"It was raining! I couldn't leave it!" Al protested.

"Wait, noon!?" Roy was stumbling to his feet.

"Yeah."

"What about that phone call? Did the phone ring last night? Did Hughes call?"

"Nobody called except Hawkeye. She said we could stay home from work today cuz she heard about what happened." Ed took a bite on his own piece of toast, frowning.

"Of course she did." Roy made a mental note to thank her later, stumbling into the hallway and into his study and going for the phone. It was nearly noon, and Hughes hadn't called? Something was up.

He dialed the familiar number and waited.

"Detective Hughes here." Hughes sounded half dead.

"Hey." Roy tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. "I was expecting a call from you. Maybe not news, but just an update of some kind since last night."

"Sorry. I haven't been home. I've been chasing leads."

"All night?" the silence on the line and the lack of cheer in his friend's voice confirmed his guess to be true.

"I have to solve this, Roy. This guy- whoever he is- made a mistake. The killing last night- was done by the theater where a political rally was being held. All those spectators watching- someone had to have seen something. There was a sign in sheet passed around, I've been interviewing. We're on interview... 87? Of approximately 150. I can't talk long- one of the candidates who was giving a speech, Susans- she's coming in soon."

"You need help. You've been up for nearly 24 hours straight, you have too many leads to handle and you're not thinking clearly. I can be over there in half an hour..."

"No. You need to stay and keep an eye on Ed. I don't want him involved in this. We're close to a break, I can feel it..."

"Hughes..."

"I can feel it Roy!" Hughes snapped, and Roy paused. Hughes wasn't one to shout normally.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because... the killer's been too rash. He made a mistake. Ed said the victim's pink purse was left behind at the scene. When my team got down there, there was no purse."

"Whose to say robbers didn't just take it?"

"They would've taken the money. Our victim was a school teacher, and she'd just been to the bank. The clerk remembered her cashing her paycheck. And we found it. All 174 cens of bills in that alley. Crumpled up and bloodstained, but all there. They just. took. The purse."

Roy frowned, turning the fact over in his mind. "But if Ed saw it..."

"Then the killer came back and took a souvenir. Between the time Ed found the body and before investigations arrived, the killer came back for a memento."

The phone receiver clattered to the desk as it slipped from Roy's fingers and his blood ran cold.

Whoever the hell this sick bastard was... he'd come back for a souvenir.

Ed hadn't seen the killer, but perhaps he'd still been there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment to strike while Ed had been close by.

Roy picked up the phone again, trying to calm his racing thoughts. Once again, Edward was lucky to escape alive.

"So someone has to have seen it. 143 spectators. 3 Politicians. 14 staff. Someone saw something. Our killer is boxing himself in. I can find this, I just need Ed safe with you and out of the picture..."

"At least let me send Hawkeye. She can help you. Don't tell me you couldn't use a 2 hour nap and some more manpower, because that's a lie and we both know it."

Hughes sighed. "Yeah. Sure, send her over, but keep Ed safe. He was there last night- the killer might've been there, Roy. Watching him."

"I know."

"This killer has been getting more aggressive. I don't want his luck to run out."

"Understood. I'll have Hawkeye and some staff drop by. When you get a break- call me. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Roy." Hughes sounded exhausted but grateful.

"Take care of yourself, Hughes."

Roy hung up the phone and sighed. He was anxious for a break in the case too- the case had become too personal. Part of him resented not being able to go and help himself, but when he thought of Ed being anywhere close to this lunatic again, he knew why it was important to keep away.

"Mow?"

A ball of orange fluff jumped up on the desk next to him and started to rub his arms and purr.

"What the hell!?"

"That's Iggy." Ed frowned, crossing his arms and looking up at Mustang with distaste. "That weird ass cat Al found. I don't like him, he's shifty."

Roy looked down. The cat was rather bedraggled looking, and it's eyes were lopsided, looking in two different directions. It was kind of unnerving.

The cat started to purr like a motor, pawing at his hand and begging for pets. The cat was also drooling.

"Oh yeah. It might have rabies. Hughes have any news on the case?"

"No. Nothing yet. And you're not involved in the case anyways."

Roy frowned, picking up Iggy the cat and setting him on the ground. The cat promptly fell over like a drunk, sprawled out on the rug, and fell asleep.

"Right. When you find him, I want to help hunt him down."

"Ed. No."

"It's personal now!" Ed stomped his foot. "Like it or not, I AM involved, and I'm not gonna sit around like some useless child!"

"I never said you were a useless child. But we could use you elsewear."

"Yeah? Like where?" Ed raised an incendiary eyebrow.

"Here. Helping me figure out how to vote in this damned election this afternoon. And helping Gracia and Elicia. Hughes hasn't been home from the office in awhile, I'm sure Elicia could use a hand with the shopping and you and Al can help with Elicia."

There was a small poof as Iggy the cat farted himself awake before promptly dozing back off again.

"And also- we gotta find somebody to adopt this cat."

There it is, folks! An OC kitty!

And as usual... the ko-fi link, if you like the trash I, a human dumpster fire, produce https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

#fma fanfiction #FMA #burned #burns #injury #accident #Edwhumph #edward elric whumph #parentalroy #parental roy #roy mustang #ed whump #whumph #whump #angst #hurt ed #comfort #hurt #hurt/comfort

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probably-writing-x · 4 years

Text

Admittance Pt.2

Guzmán x Reader

Request by @twoghostsandelowen : Is it gonna be a Admittance part 2? maybe when Andér finds out or something? Please don’t leave me like that, i wanna know what’s happening next ❤️

Requests are open🤍

——————

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, let it out,” Guzmán encourages, rubbing your back as he held back your hair.

He’d been doing this far too often recently as you found yourself being sick at school more and more often. It had been a week since you’d been to the hospital to confirm that you were pregnant and still nobody else knew. You couldn’t even think of telling certain people - your brother being top of that list.

Guzmán pulls out a water bottle from his bag and hands it to you, “Here.”

You smile and take it from him as he pushes himself off from the floor of the girls bathrooms.

“Sorry you keep having to do this,” You comment with a groan as you stand up too.

He laughs a little, “Holding your hair back whilst you’re sick with the fear that anybody could walk into the toilets and see me here? You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs gently at you, wrapping an arm around you with ease.

“Come on, lets go before first period starts.”

Somehow, you’d managed to make this work for the full week. Guzmán had been texting you non-stop in the evenings to show you different articles he’d found or different blog pages that he thought explained pregnancy well. He’d even shown you articles about ‘how to tell the family’. He’d been there for you as he said he would be, granted it had only been a week. But there was something about the way he watched every single one of your movements in class that convinced you he would last longer than a week.

“Did you get the information through about the appointment?” Guzmán glances over his shoulder as he asks you, making sure the coast was clear before he even mentioned it.

“Yeah, it’s at the start of next week if that’s okay,” You nod, “I was actually thinking that Ander could come with us if-“

“If we’ve told him by then,” Guzmán finishes for you, “That’s a great idea (Y/n), but how are we supposed to tell him this?”

You go to respond just as Ander and Omar begin walking down the corridor towards you.

“Hey, guys,” Ander says with a slight frown at the sight of you two together again.

Guzmán greets him as if nothing is wrong as all four of you walk into class.

- - - - - -

“How come you’ve been spending so much time with Guzmán?” Ander asks you as the two of you wash the dishes from dinner.

“I told you, we’ve just been going through some revision - he’s really set on graduating this year so he’s asking for all of the help he can get.”

Graduating. Would you even be able to graduate anymore?

“Why did he only ask you?” Ander laughs, “If he wanted help, maybe he should’ve asked someone that could actually help him.”

You hit his arm and roll your eyes, “I’m not an idiot Ander.”

“If you say so! I’m heading out with Omar later, you can come with us if you want to? We’re just going for a few drinks,” Ander explains, drying his hands on the towel and handing it to you.

“No that’s okay, I’ll stay here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” You jab as he leaves to go and get ready.

You find yourself texting Guzmán straight away to say the coast would be clear. Your mother was at a board meeting this evening and Ander wouldn’t be around - perfect time for you two to talk through some things.

- - - - - -

And, as if by clockwork, Guzmán is sat opposite you only a five minutes after Ander and Omar had left.

“Okay, so I figured there’s a lot that we need to talk about so I thought we should just ask each other any questions that we have and just get it all out into the open. You know, no such thing as a stupid question and I-“

“I’ll go first,” Guzmán places a hand on your knee from where he’d mimicked your position of sitting cross legged on the bed, “How are you feeling?”

You take in a deep breath and try to calm yourself, “I’m okay, I’ve eaten a bit more today and actually kept it down. I feel a bit off balance? I didn’t really expect that.”

“I mean there’s another person in your belly, I’m not surprised if that feels a bit weird.”

“It’s not another person,” You roll your eyes, “Theyre only like this big.”

“Okay, okay,” Guzmán smiles, “Your question.”

“How are you feeling?”

He shifts in his position, legs not exactly fitting into crossing like yours did, “Im fine (Y/n), honestly.”

“Did you mean what you said? About being there through it all?”

“I think it’s my turn to ask a question,” He cocks a brow, “Why would you think I wouldn’t mean it?”

You sigh, “It’s a big commitment Guzmán! And in nine months from now, you should be going out into the world and graduating and starting your future. You shouldn’t be tied down to me or to this whole situation just because of one summer.”

“(Y/n), this whole ‘situation’ was because of both of us. The baby might be inside you but it’s still half mine and half yours. I’d be a pretty shitty person if I expected that to mean I’d never have any responsibility. I know I might not be the model guy to have a baby with but I wouldn’t have chosen you either,” He jokes, nudging your leg slightly, “I meant what I said, if that answers your question.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “This is big, Guzmán.”

He frowns mockingly, “I thought you said it was only this big so far.”

You roll your eyes and reach out a foot to jab him in the ribs. He jumps back and laughs, hopping off of the bed and coming round to wrap an arm around you.

“One good thing about having a baby with me - you don’t have to worry about it being ugly,” He points out, “As long as it looks more like me than you.”

You elbow him in the ribs this time as he laughs but still doesn’t release his arm from around you. So the two of you stay like that together for a long time, asking each other different questions whenever they popped into your head - so much so that you don’t even pick up on the time.

- - - - - -

A few hours must have passed when you bolt awake, Guzmán still beside you having fallen asleep too.

“Guzmán,” You hiss, nudging at his sleeping frame to wake him up, “Guzmán!”

He groans and blinks the fatigue out of his eyes, “What time is it?”

“We fell asleep! Ander and Omar will be back any mi-“

As if you’d set off a terrible chain of reactions, you hear as Ander’s key pushes into the door and he comes into your home.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out and it’s like you’re practically following his path through the house to look for you.

Right up until the moment that he’s stood at your doorway. Omar follows behind and the look that you share tells you he knows this doesn’t end well already.

“Is this studying too?” Ander gestures between the two of you sat on the bed, “Seems like you two have been doing a hell of a lot of studying recently.”

“Ander I can explain-“

“Why don’t you both explain yourselves? What’s this? Some secret affair behind my back?” Ander scoffs, “You couldn’t have just told me?”

“It’s not what you think, honestly,” You continue, “Ander please just calm down.”

“Calm down?” He laughs, “You seriously think you two can just be together and not think I’m going to react? You’re fucking my best friend, (Y/n).”

“Ander!” Guzmán pipes up, stepping forward to stand beside you, “She doesn’t need this kind of stress, okay? Can we be mature about this?”

Ander laughs outwardly, “How would you know what the hell she needs?”

“Because she’s pregnant with my child Ander.”

The words fall like boulders to the ground below, practically dropping the temperature another five degrees as they do. You were certain that it wasn’t the baby causing the sickness that bubbled inside you.

Guzmán looks at you like he’s just done the worst thing imaginable, helplessness seeping into those eyes like he’s terrified of your reaction. He didn’t seem to care about what Ander would say - just you.

“You’re pregnant?” Ander’s shoulders drop like he’s lost his ability to fight back.

“I promise I was going to tell you soon, I just wanted to be sure of everything first and I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“You got my sister pregnant?” Ander turns all of his attention to Guzmán, “You couldn’t keep your fucking hands away from her, huh?”

“It wasn’t like that, it was never like that, it was over summer an-“ Guzmán tries to continue, looking more innocent than ever as he stumbles over his words.

Ander stops him quickly as he grips onto the material of Guzman’s shirt and shoves him against the wall, face close to his as he seethes with unstopping anger, “You could’ve gone for anybody, anybody! And you went for my sister? My fucking twin sister?!”

Guzmán doesn’t respond.

“And now what? You get her pregnant and expect her whole life to change just because of one of your mistakes?!” Ander yells, “You make me fucking sick!”

With that, he shoves Guzmán to the side and comes straight over to you. It’s like an instant switch as soon as you’re in his sight. He was seeing you in a completely different light - someone he needed to protect now more than ever.

“I want you tell me everything okay, everything I can do, whenever you need me an-“

“Ander,” You settle a hand on his arm, “I won’t be on my own. We’re-“

“Don’t tell me you think he’s going to stay by your side through this,” Ander shakes his head, looking between you and Guzmán, “You’re both as delirious as each other.”

With that, he gives up on both of you and storms back out of the room. You were relieved when Omar followed quickly after him, you dreaded the thought of him being alone after something like that.

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry, it just slipped out and I-“ Guzmán sighs, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t find any energy in you to respond and instead turn and wrap your arms around him, letting him hold you close and confirm to you that you wouldn’t be alone. You couldn’t believe that Ander was right. The thought of being a mother was terrifying enough, let alone being a single mother before the baby was even born.

- - - - - -

Guzmán went home late that night and you’d passed Anders room to see him sleeping beside Omar -relieved that there wouldn’t be anymore arguments for the rest of the night.

The next morning would be a different matter.

“Morning, Omar,” You say as you’re walking down the stairs and he’s just about to walk up.

“Hey,” He offers you a small smile.

“How is he?”

He glances over to the dining room where Ander was sat staring aimlessly into a cup of coffee, “He took it pretty hard last night, and I think he’s trying to process everything. I think more than anything he regrets what he said to you both but he’s too proud to admit it.”

You nod and keep your eyes focused on your brother, “Thank you, I’ll see you later, okay? Or I’ll shout for help if I need it.”

He laughs and squeezes your arm for some slight reassurance before you head through to the kitchen.

Ander glances up as you walk in, swallowing a gulp of his drink, “Morning. Did you sleep okay?”

You pour yourself some juice and sit across from him at the island, “Yeah, did you?”

He nods, “Eventually, took me a while to switch my mind off.”

You look down, “Me too.”

The silence falls and it breaks your heart a little to know you’d caused all of this.

“I’m sorry for how it happened, Ander. I never wanted you to find out like that.”

“I know,” He mumbles, “I didn’t expect to find out I’d be an uncle that way either.”

“I guess not, but you’re still going to be an uncle.”

“How far along are you?” He glances up, eyes flicking to your stomach for just a moment.

“Six weeks, I have my first scan next week. They should be able to detect a heartbeat by then,” You explain, “I only told Guzmán last week.”

“What happened over summer?” Ander continues, “I don’t need all of the details.”

You smile a little, “I’m not sure I know either. Guzmán and I spent a lot more time together than normal and one thing led to another. It wasn’t just a one time thing.”

“So you two are together now?”

“No, no,” You half-laugh, “I knew how you’d react to that, it didn’t seem worth the risk.”

“And he’s willing to be there for you and to father this child?” Ander continues, like he was forcing the pieces of the puzzle to connect in his head.

“I believe him Ander, he’s been really supportive so far and he wants whats best for me, and for the baby,” You encourage, “It’s his baby just as much as it is mine.”

“Okay,” Ander takes a deep breath, setting his coffee down onto the table, “Im not saying I completely believe, or trust, him but I trust your judgement. And I want you to know that if anyone is capable of doing something like this - God it would be you. And you’re not going to be on your own.”

You smile and reach over the table to squeeze his hand, “Thank you, Ander.”

“Uncle Ander and Uncle Omar, huh?” He grins, “I like the sound of that.”

You laugh and it feels like the best thing he could’ve said in that moment. It feels like everything you needed to hear wrapped into one small morning conversation between just you two.

Uncle Ander and Uncle Omar. It did have a nice ring to it.

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