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remycroft · 1 month

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Cross my heart, Hope you die || Heimdall X Reader

Chapter 14 - Imprisoned

She was to die tomorrow. It had been three days since the Einherjar stole her from her bed and transported her to the cells beneath the Great Lodge. I thought that it wouldn't matter, that I could continue on with my duties and not care what happens in the morning. Yet, when I tried to focus, I would go back to her taking that lightning for me, to when we first fought and met, all my memories of her would attack my mind and no matter how hard I fought - the thought of her would stay and my emotions would cloud my head. I didn't understand any of this and I hated it, hated her. She was my enemy, absolutely nothing to me, why is she now haunting my every waking moment?

Surely, it wouldn't matter after tomorrow. She would walk up the stake, she would say her final words, and then she would burn. Her ashes would then spread into the wind that had been causing chaos since she was imprisoned.

In that moment the sound of her screams and the crackling of fire filled my ears. It overwhelmed my senses, and I lost my balance. Why was I like this? I don't care for her. Yes, she was tolerable but nothing particularly special. Was it because she sacrificed herself for me? That was the only answer that made any kind of sense. My life was never in danger (obviously), but the intent to protect me was clear.

It would just be one moment, a singular moment, and then I could go back to my normal life and never think of her again. I reminded myself of the dream where she burned Asgard to a crisp. She can't hurt my home if she's dead.

*~*~*

What have I done to deserve this?

I came here, to enemy territory, because I could not bear the thought of Atreus being here alone. I stayed true to myself no matter what was done. I stuck to my aim and did my best. Before this, I was the loyal daughter to a grieving mother who mistreated her. I did everything that was asked, even if there was protest. Was it my desire for vengeance? Was it my naivety? Was it because I felt emotion and wasn't purely logical, therefore failing as a Goddess? Maybe that was it, I needed to feel less.

If I was mortal I'd curse the Gods. I walk among them, so I will not curse all, just the ones who deserve it. I curse Odin. I curse Thor. I hope they die screaming; I hope they lose everything and are begging for mercy when they're time comes but it is not bestowed.

I curse Loki. My old friend is a traitorous little brat and I hope he dies in agonising pain.

The Einherjar barely speak, the only time they did was when they told me when I was to be executed. I would die tomorrow. I would be dragged from this dark cell, clasped in chains, and burned at the stake. There would be no escape. All I could do was ensure my head was high. I would not scream either, I will not give them that pleasure.

I wish I had a single moment where I could return to the dwarves home. I would see my mother and Kratos again. I could apologise to Lunda and Brok for not being able to hold onto my knives and arrows. I could strangle Loki; watch as the light in his eyes fades and relish in the sounds of him choking to death. I suppose I could remove the air from his body, but I'd prefer to use my hands.

I had been staring into darkness for hours now. I couldn't really do anything at all. I'm still weak from the lightning, and my healing factor was dormant all together due to the chain. I haven't eaten or drank a thing since I was placed in here, and while I could last longer than normal mortals, I couldn't last forever, and the effects of starvation and dehydration began yesterday (I think). At least I would die tomorrow.

I was also unable to sleep, whenever my eyes started to flutter and I felt sleep start to take me, the chain would constrict around my ankle, and it would force me awake. It was horrendous and all it did was make my hatred burn even brighter.

The sound of two arrows flying and the Einherjar dropping caught my attention. I stay as I am. If they're here to kill me, an arrow will be faster than the flames. "I told you to take the poison." The sound of Dagna wakes me up entirely, how the hel did she get here? Why is she here? Does she have a death wish? , "In these circumstances, my lady, I'm quite glad you didn't. I wouldn't be able to save your life otherwise."

I freeze in shock as she approached my cell door, took out a gem glistening with bifrost, and unlocked the cell door with it. "Why are you -? How?" I ask.

"Don't trouble yourself with that, we need to get to the wall and quickly. My Lord is on his watch and is waiting to send you home to Midgard."

"You're here on his orders?" I was absolutely bewildered. I had thought about being saved in the past. I thought maybe my mother would have found a way to get through to Asgard, would kill Odin, and rescue me. Sometimes, I would think Forseti would try, and then in one moment of desperation, when that mortal instinct to survive kicked in, I did think that maybe Heimdall and I had grown closer, and he would come. I then came to my senses and called it insanity, as this is what it is.

I slap myself to check I wasn't being delirious. Holy shit, this is actually happening. I might actually live.

Dagna came forward with the gem and as she approached, I flinched. She stepped back slightly. I'm actually a pathetic piece of shit. Oh no, my body is fragile, what a nightmare? It shouldn't mean I should act like this/

She gives me a look of sympathy, "I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity."

"This isn't pity. You did not deserve this."

"At least you believe it. I don't know how long I've been in here for, but I came to think that there must be something."

"Don't be so stupid. This is war. Yet, you do not deserve an execution, you should die fighting for what you believe in." There was a long intense stare between us and I looked for if she was lying at all. It was pointless, she was one of the few here who did not lie. She took my hand as the chain loosened around my ankle and I stood for the first time in who knows long. "You've only been here for three days by the way."

"It felt so much longer."

"That is not surprising, when you are trapped in the dark."

"How am I this fragile then?"

"The chain wasn't inhibiting anything. It was draining your power and your strength. It's used for the strongest of prisoners."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She throws a long beige cloak to put on and I do just that. "Odin is gone for the remainder of this day, we have an hour before Thor gets back. Keep your head low and do not speak a word, are we understood?" I drop my head to signal that I did understand. "Good, hopefully we make it out of this alive."

We begin our walk out of the cells, and I'm blinded by the beginning of the evening's light. The halls were crowded with people, but they were either drunk or in conversation. I had to hand it to Dagna and Heimdall, they chose the best time for a prison break.

I hated that I couldn't look up. In my peripherals I could see how dusk had truly begun, the sun's light was fading and the bright blue of day was turning to the darker one of night. I'm sure stars were starting to spread across the sky, I wish I could see them.

As we walk through the wind starts to curl around my body, welcoming my presence and renewed control of the element. "The wind has been erratic in your absence. One day we were fighting off tornadoes, and the next it was silent. My Lord said it was the same across all the realms." she whispers. It was mourning for me. I held my free hand out to it, and I felt its cool caress.

"How did the people of New Midgard fare?"

"What did I say about talking?" She scalds. There is a moment of silence, "They were left untouched. You cannot see it due to your hood but the people in Gladsheim have had to repair roofs, walls. Odin has had the most difficult time of anyone, the wind keeps trying to knock him over." I try not to laugh but can't help myself. Dagna looks cross, and then immediately starts bursting with laughter, "it is a very funny thought, but the aftermaths were far from it." I raise my eyebrow, telling her to continue, "He started getting really angry, sometimes civilians would get the brunt of it." I place my spare hand on her shoulder in comfort, she welcomes it.

We reach the platform and Dagna takes out the crystal to start the ascent. "What will happen when Odin realises?" I ask, we were up where no one could hear us, I don't need to keep my mouth shut.

"Something bad, probably. My Lord will probably make it out alive, but me? I'll probably take your place."

"Then why risk yourself?"

"My Lord asked me, how could I say no after all he's done for me? Besides, I'm quite fond of you, I did not want you to die." What if she came with me? She would be out of Odin's reach, she would live. I start to ask the question but we reach the top of the wall and my voice catches in my throat as my senses come to me full force.

The familiar heartbeat, the smell of steel, the steady breathing of Heimdall paralyses me. I turn around and am face to face with the orchestrator of my salvation. "I know, I saved your life, blah blah blah, we do not have all day." Heimdall grabs my hand and my wits return. "I'll run you through what is going to happen; you will stand at the edge of the wall and I will shoot two beams of bifrost around you which should propel you to Midgard. You'll probably be incredibly weak when you arrive so get somewhere safe fast." I don't get a chance to respond as he rushes me towards the edge, he raises his hands to begin. I quickly grab his wrist to stop him, "What are you doing?"

"What about Dagna?"

"What about her?"

I resist the desire to slap him, "She'll be executed for this."

"She knew the risk. Now, we are running short on time and I'd prefer this was successful." He forces himself out of my grip with ease.

I won't let Dagna die after all she's done. I put both my hands on his shoulders. "She has been nothing but loyal to you! Send her with me, she'll be safe and won't have to suffer Odin's cruelty!"

He looks at the girl and I notice her stare of hope, one she was trying to hide. When Heimdall hatched this insane plan she was prepared to be killed with no hesitation, for him, and saw it as incredibly likely she would die. Now, she actually has a chance to live and I'm sure that human instinct for survival has surely kicked in. "I've only done this once, ages ago, as practice. It was with one mortal." He pauses, "I will try, but her going with you risks your life. If you die than this was for nothing."

"If it was ages ago, then you've surely grown in strength." I let go of his shoulders and outstretch my hand to Dagna, she takes it.

Heimdall spreads his arms and closes his eyes. He flicks his wrists and two glowing beams of bifrost shine like shimmering diamonds in his hands. He turns his palms to face towards and the beams move out of his hands and surround us, leading to a bridge behind us. "Thank you, Heimdall." I say as a goodbye. He snaps his fingers and the beams release from his hands and fully circle us. The bifrost moves towards us and then we are flung back, away from Gladsheim, away from the enemy, away from Heimdall.

I wake up cold. "Dagna?" I sit up on what feels like snow. I pick up the fluffy substance I'm sat on and it was snow. I looked up and saw broken branches with seared ends. We made it. Holy shit, we actually made it. "Dagna?" I hear a groan behind me and see the girl try to sit. I rush over to her and help her up.

"We made it?" I smile, "Oh my Heimdall, we actually made it." she jumps and hugs me so tight that I feel suffocated.

"Alright, that's enough. My bones are still brittle after that chain." She lets go, "This place is also crawling with monsters so we need to contact my mother as fast as possible."

"How do we find Frigg - I mean your mother?"

"I'd use Freya in front of her. Frigg was her Aesir name. She's not too fond of it."

She lowers her head in shame, "Of course, forgive me, my lady."

"Quit it with the titles, I'm [N], your friend. Heimdall can lord over you all he wants but I am not your superior. You knew that the day of Loki's celebration, don't change it now."

"Of course. I only changed it because I respected you then."

"Respect doesn't mean you need to give me a title." She nods her head.

Dagna's bow and arrows had broken in the fall and I unfortunately had my weapons confiscated when I was imprisoned and I don't think Odin will be so kind as to give them back. We were lucky on the walk to Tyr's temple. We encountered few creatures and the wind forced them back to ensure that Dagna and I - still weak from realm travel - would make it safely.

"MOTHER!" I scream, "I AM ALIVE! PLEASE COME AND FIND ME!"

A few minutes pass, I hear the beating of wings, and then a sword appears at Dagna's throats, that sword specifically was Mardoll. "Who are you and what are you doing with my daughter?"

*~*~*

I dropped to the floor out of exhaustion the moment they were sent to Midgard. I knew it would weaken me exponentially, but I genuinely believe the mortal should live after all she's done for me.

A raven appears in front of me, Huginn, the All-father was back. He'd sensed people leaving his realm and came back immediately. Another thing I knew would happen. It was waiting for my consent to be taken, "take me." the bird doesn't hesitate in bringing me.

The moment I land in his office, the All-father traps me in his circular prison. "You know, son, out of all my children I never expected you to be a traitor. Tyr is, Thor listens to his wife too much, and Baldur was a nut job focused on revenge, you were always wanting to prove yourself. What makes one little witch so important to you?"

"I owed her my life." the All-father laughs, then he slams his spear onto the floor again and I feel the skin along my entire torso separate and I feel the searing pain of cuts re - opening. He proceeds to lift his hand and purple streaks pour out of my head which causes an agonising, throbbing sensation in my head, it felt as if my head was being torn open.

"To think I was willing to give you a bit of free will, make you loyal to Asgard and not me. I suppose even I can make mistakes." He sighs, what was he taking about? "I didn't think that anyone would actually make you feel indebted to them, I never thought someone would sacrifice themselves for you. I mean, no offence son, but you're a prick. That was the beauty of you." He sets his spear to one side, "From now on, every action you make will be at my command. If I tell you to hold your breath and kill yourself, you will have no choice but to do so." He spits out, his voice was cold and venomous. It made me feel cold, I was scared. He then grabs hold of the purple streaks in my head and tightens them, and I couldn't help but scream. It hurt so much.

The threads went back in my head and the pain immediately stopped. The prison beneath me was gone and my skin had stitched itself back together. I stayed on my knees before the All-father. If he wanted me to stand, I would. So far, being on my knees is what he wanted and therefore I will be on my knees. I live to serve him after all.

#gow ragnarok #heimdall #heimdall gow #heimdall x reader #god of war ragnarok

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littlegodzilla · 2 years

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Happy New Year for you all!!

Hope this new was great and this which is coming will be good too or better!

For now I'm coming with a new chapter about our Russell.

Hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!!

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Protect You.

Chapter 5: Hug.

Russell Welch x Fem!Reader.

Mini series. Chapter 5.

Warnings: Bad Language. Divorce. Meetings. Nightmares. Russell being cute and weird.

Words: 5000.

Summary: You go back home, everything with Matt is moving fast and all the people who loves you are with you. Russell too.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwings73 @spenciepoo338 @b-tchymoon @minervadashwood @darylssluttt @let-love-bleeds-red @ravendixon @livingdeadblondequeen @bringinsexybackk69

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Chapter 5: Hug.

💗🛡💗

The days in the hospital have been shorter than you expected. The first few nights were harder, the body aches, you woke up confused not knowing exactly where you were, you had nightmares, Russell would soothe you by touching your arm, stroking your shoulder and you would go back to sleep, he would stay awake, watching that you didn't have any episodes again and fall asleep too.

After a long week of rest, they finally send you home and you are nervous. You have to do rehabilitation for your hand, even though it has healed well, one of your fingers remains flexed, you are not able to open your hand fully and you need to do exercises to strain the muscles before they operate again. When you were able to stand up, you spent the hours taking little walks around the room and hallways, at least you could go to the bathroom now, which was less embarrassing for you.

Russell walks in the door as you are struggling with one of the sweatshirts he brought you and you feel him pull it down, helping you to fit it snugly on your body, you smile gratefully. Russell hasn't been away from you any day, just a few hours because he had to keep working, plus he had been called to testify, to testify in the trial against Matt, you hadn't filed a formal complaint, but the security company had as they witnessed the mistreatment, you thought that couldn't be done, but you are relieved as you know you alone would never have found the courage.

"Are you ready?" he says to you as you stick your head out the other side of your sweatshirt.

"Yes, my knees are a little shaky..."

"I've been thinking that if you don't feel comfortable or ready, you can stay at my place for a few days..." He says looking at you sideways.

He bites his thumbnail nervously, you are already in the car on your way to your neighborhood. His offer catches you by surprise, he hasn't hesitated to watch over you all these days, but you think staying at his house is abusing his trust, you have your own house, you're right next door, if you needed anything, just give him a call.

"That's not necessary, Russell. I really appreciate everything you're doing for me, but I can't ask you to do that..."

"You don't need to ask me, I'm offering it to you."

"No, no, we live right next door, I have to deal with this..."

"Of course, but I just want you to know." He looks at you with a smile and you reciprocate.

"B-but if you want to join me..." You whisper lowering your head, embarrassed.

"Don't hesitate, I'm not going to leave you alone with this." He assures you and reaches out to caress your shoulder. You sigh and are grateful for the touch.

💗🛡💗

When you arrive home, at Welch's front door there are two people waiting, you recognize one of them as Gabe, but next to him is a brown haired woman you don't recognize, still when you get out of the car, they both walk up to you, you greet Gabe and he gently shakes your hand.

"It's good to see you, you're doing much better." Dares the smaller Welch to say and you smile sheepishly.

"It's good to see you too, Gabe."

"This is Monica." Russell then says. "She's my co-worker."

You've heard of her, Russell has told you about her work over the days she's kept you company, but you don't understand what she's doing there, maybe she's Gabe's girlfriend, or she really is Russell's girlfriend. You feel the nervousness wash over you again, you don't want there to be any misunderstanding, or for them to argue because of you. If she's there to ask for explanations you're going to give them to her.

"Don't be angry with him, please." You say before she opens her mouth. "H-He was just being a good neighbor. H-he's been helping me, he didn't..." You speak between stammers waving your hands rapidly. The three of them look at you confused. "H-he's a good man, you're very lucky, Monica." You continue to say.

"What? Oh no, no, no, no! Russell and I aren't...we're just co-workers and friends. Nothing more." Monica hastens to say. "Thanks to him we were able to act fast with everything that happened."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about all this... I've caused you all a lot of trouble..."

"Oh my God, no, none of this is your fault."

"Do you want to go home?" offers Russell to accompany you when you nod.

"Yes, I want to go back to a place that feels familiar and less... caged." You smile.

"Sure, let me help you, girl." He says taking your arm gently.

"Go with her, I'll get the stuff out of the car." Gabe says and Russell thanks him for the help.

Maybe coming home isn't the hardest part you have to deal with, it's easy to ignore everything around you when the people you're with are doing everything they can to keep your mind distracted. You've even made a friend you didn't expect.

Monica is nice, you can trust her and you feel at ease when you talk, you haven't been able to go back to work yet, you have to admit that you are a little scared to see her reactions when you show up there, you don't want anyone to feel sorry for your situation or your boss to fire you for missing those days at work, even if the absence is justified. Hanging out with her relaxes you, when she's not busy at work, you grab a coffee or just take a walk downtown, apparently she and Gabe have become closer after everything that happened and you love hearing how that's all progressing.

It makes you think of Russell and all he's done for you, how much he's cared without needing to, how he continues to care for you even though you're out of the hospital now. It's not a constant thing, but on alternate days he peeks by your house just to make sure you're still okay, the nights are hard, the loneliness is sometimes too treacherous, but you're fine, you spend the morning talking, he helps you with some things you still can't do because of your arm in rehab and you even sometimes go out to lunch together, but then you each go back to your lives and the monotonous course of some things. You never wanted to think of yourself as a dependent, but maybe now you are. Being alone overwhelms you a little, but you assured the ex-cop that you could deal with these things on your own. You weren't going to give up.

Of course you didn't count on the trial against Matt coming so soon. As soon as you were more recovered you received a letter to appear in court, it wasn't the actual trial yet, but they had to ask you questions and know for sure what had happened that day. You are not ready to remember all your bad times with your former husband, but you can't get away with it either. You fidget nervously before raising your hand and knocking on the door of your neighbor's house. A few minutes later, Russell is standing in front of you.

"Hey, good morning." He greets you with a small smile, which you reciprocate. "How are you?"

"Good, I wanted to talk to you about a few things..."

"Sure, come in." He steps aside and invites you in for a cup of coffee. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just that I've been summoned to talk about Matt's case..." You look at him dubiously and he tenses his jaw.

"Well, do you want me to come with you?"

"Please?" You look sideways at him, embarrassed. "I-I don't know if Matt will be there, but..."

"Possibly not, but don't worry, if he's over there I won't let him come over."

"I-I want to ask for divorce papers..." You tell him in a whisper and Russell feels his mouth go dry. "I-I'd like the judge to make him s-sign them..."

"We'll talk to your lawyer, I'm sure they can do something, he's guilty of abuse, they can use that to force him."

"You think so? I-I don't want to have him around again, I... I know I'm to blame for this going this far, but I never had the courage..."

"Uh, uh..." Russell kneels down in front of you and holds your hands as you cover your face to stop the tears. "Listen to me good, okay? Nothing, none of this is your fault. He should never have laid a hand on you, he should never have dared to insult you or threaten you, force you and manipulate you to be with him. You are a victim, and it's good the decision you are making, believe me, you are being very brave." He smiles stroking your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the tears. "Don't say it's your fault, okay?" He squeezes your shoulder and you nod your head.

"Thanks, Russell..."

"I'm going to fix us something to eat, okay? And we'll talk about it quietly."

A week later you are looking at yourself in the mirror of your room; after a long time you wear your hair up in a simple but pretty headdress, you put a little make-up, because you want to, the black line of your eyes and lips in a soft but showy tone, you look for some earrings you had been hiding for a long time with a matching necklace and bracelet, you look at your ring finger and take off your wedding ring putting it away in a drawer of your jewelry box before closing it. You feel cold on your finger and at the same time a stone disappears, letting you breathe, you adjust the tie of your blouse and rub the marks on your skirt, you are a little scared, but you know you are not alone. You breathe out slowly through your nose, grab your bag and walk out of the house listening to your heels clicking.

And suddenly you feel good.

"Wow, you look spectacular..." Russell says as he opens the door to find you standing there in front of him, ready for the trial.

He says you look spectacular, but he's no slouch either. He's surprised you, you can't deny it. It's not like Russell doesn't know what a shirt or jeans are, but you've always seen him in his baggy t-shirts and baggy work pants, now he's different; he's wearing a gray sweater with a white shirt underneath, plus black jeans that fit the shape of his legs more than usual, besides that he's let his hair down and styled it.

He looks very handsome.

"Wow..." You whisper staring at him and swallow.

"Don't get used to it, these clothes give me allergies." He jokes and you laugh quietly, Russell grabs his wallet and keys before leaving the house. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty nervous...I hope it's something quick."

"I don't want to disappoint you, but you heard your lawyer, there's a lot to clear up, it's going to be complicated."

You sigh again lowering your gaze, you really don't want to have to spend too much time around Matt again. Russell opens the car door for you helping you carefully into the car, he walks around the car and starts off heading towards the courthouse.

"How are you?" he asks looking at you. "I know it's been several weeks, but..."

"I'm fine... the first few days it was weird, but then it was like... I don't know, like it was meant to be..." You look at him sideways. "The first few days I didn't sleep in the room... the bed seemed too big..."

"I understand you." He smiles brushing his lips with his index finger. "If someday you can't sleep, you know I'm right next door."

"I know, but for the moment I think I'm okay." You smile again and he nods.

"I like seeing you like this, you're... different, but fine and I-I like the..." He points your face referring to your makeup and you nod.

"Thank you, it's the first time I've ever done makeup for myself..." You shrug feeling your cheeks heat up.

"You look beautiful... you always do, I mean, you don't need makeup, because you're pretty, without makeup and with it too, but now your face looks different, I mean..." he mumbles and bites his lip looking at you with pleading in his eyes. "Shut me up, please." He gasps and you laugh louder than you have these past few years and cover your mouth holding in your laughter.

When you arrive at the courthouse and Russell helps you out of the car, there is someone waiting there for you. Your breath catches as you realize it's your parents. You look at your friend with confusion, he gestures for you to go to them, and you don't hesitate, despite your heels, you run to them, running up the stairs at full speed. You let them hug you tightly as you cry with joy to see them there, it's been so long since you had lost contact....

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." You whisper as your mother tries to shush you by caressing your back.

"There, it's all over now. It's going to be okay, babygirl, you'll see."

"You have a lot of people who love you and take care of you." You hear your father say and you turn away from them to look at Russell who is a few feet away from you, giving you the space for the reunion you so desperately needed.

"Thanks, how, how did you know?" you don't quite know how to ask him.

"Gabe found the phone in some old files, we got in touch and told them what had happened... sort of..."

"We're sorry we couldn't come sooner, honey..."

"No, no, it's okay, it's good to see you here." You smile and hug them again.

The smile and joy that comes over you, however, disappear as soon as you walk through the courtroom door and discover that Matt is already there with his own lawyer. Your legs stop on their own, anchored to the floor as if your feet were made of pure cement. Your heart is racing, you find it hard to breathe, your pulse buzzing in your ears, the memories of that day come back to your mind and you want to run away. But everything seems to take on a warmer color when you feel Russell's hand on your lower back, stopping your escape, pushing you forward to continue on your way.

"Come on, I'm with you." He tells you and his arm goes around your waist, he can't walk you to your table where your lawyer is waiting for you, he will sit right behind you.

"How dare you do this to me, bitch!" roars Matt as he sees you appear.

He rises from his seat and despite being handcuffed that doesn't stop him from lunging at you. You freeze, covering your face with both hands, but Matt never touches you. Russell stops him by holding his arm, two cops arrive and drag him back to his table.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on her." Russell snarls with glowing eyes.

A crooked smile creeps across his face, he wants to say something, but his lawyer stops him. Russell walks back to his seat making an apologetic gesture to the judge for intervening and when he reaches your side he squeezes your shoulder and sits down.

It is hard to remember everything, to hear again all the accusations, all the situations you have lived through, you are hurt by the accusations made against you by Matt's lawyer, you understand that it is his job, that he must defend his client, but his words tear you apart. It is shameful and pathetic to be aware of how weak you have been with him, how he learned to manipulate you, how he did with you what he wanted, how he took you away from your family. When it's your turn to come up and speak, every word that comes out of your mouth claws at your throat, squeezes your memories, you shrink in on yourself, lowering your head, unable to keep your eyes on the one who was your husband.

Russell is another of those who take the stand to give his testimony. He tells of his first experience since he arrived in the neighborhood, all the times he coincided with you, he talked about the cameras even though he knew it was a sensitive subject for you, but it was another proof against Matt's behavior with you. He explains that he belongs to the security company, that he gave the warning, he recognizes that his attitude was not the right one, but that he had to stop it any way he could. He knows that he will also receive a penalty for it, but he also knows that he would do it again if necessary.

The judge after a few minutes of rest and deliberating what he was going to do, it was more for protocol, he was quite clear about his sentence, he abdicates in your favor, Matt will go to jail with several serious charges that will have him there for many years, also the judge makes your divorce legal even though he would have refused to sign the papers.

You get up from your chair, with your eyes full of tears thanking your lawyer for his help, Monica comes up to you to give you a good hug rubbing your back, giving you encouragement. Gabe at her side also smiles warmly. Russell stands off to the side silently, feeling pride coursing through his body, hands folded behind his back holding back the urge to give you a tight hug. You can't stop crying, but for the first time, they are tears of joy.

"I'm so proud of you." Russell says when you look up at him.

"Of course you are, because our girl is a saint." Matt says wryly as he walks past you. "You got what you wanted, didn't you? Get rid of me, all right, what are you going to do when he finds out you're a bitch too?" he growls and Russell steps in front of you protectively.

"Shut your mouth, for your sake Williams..."

"Come on now, you think I didn't notice your intentions from day one, have you fucked her yet? Let me tell you she's broken, she won't know how to give you what you need, it'll be like fucking a doll."

Russell clenches his fists tightly, he's not going to make the situation worse, but it's an inappropriate place for a bar fight and Matt doesn't deserve to waste his time, however, he smiles and shrugs.

"Doesn't your face hurt anymore, or is it that you still don't remember that I reduced you to the ground with one arm?"

"This won't stay that way, you won't be happy if I can stop it." He promises as he is dragged away by the cops.

Monica hugs you and strokes your hair mumbling something like don't listen to her, but it's inevitable, her words have stuck in your mind. You all leave the courthouse to celebrate your triumph, you have to admit that surrounded by those you can now consider your friends, besides your parents, you feel lighter, more grateful and the fear shakes out of your body. You leave everything related to the trial and Matt aside, as if none of that had happened, as if he no longer existed, you focus on meaningless conversations, laughing, telling old stories, mostly related to the Welch brothers. You are not aware at what point your body has completely glued itself to Russell's and he wraps his arm around your waist. But it doesn't bother you at all.

🛡💗🛡

The day goes by faster than you expected and when you want to realize it, Gabe parks the car in the street where you live, your parents had already left you a few hours ago returning to their hotel, but you promised to call them the next morning. Your head feels a little dizzy from the alcohol but you're not drunk, you've never liked drinking too much, especially because of the effect it always had on Matt. Russell helps you out of the car and the other couple says goodbye to you as they get lost along the street.

"Get some rest, girl, it's been a long day today." Smiles Russell as he drops you off in front of your front door.

"Yeah...thanks so much for everything Russell, I don't know what I'd do without you..." You tell him sincerely smiling as well.

"Hey, I didn't do anything, all that courage has come from you." He shrugs and shakes his head. "And now a new stage begins."

"Yeah..." You laugh softly and look at him intensely. You both stare at each other, not knowing what else to say, you wish you could lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek, you're curious if that beard will tickle or redden your skin with the rubbing.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." He says giving your hand a little squeeze.

"Good night, Russell." You say goodbye and walk into your house.

🛡💗🛡

Russell enters his house leaving his keys on the front cabinet. With a long sigh he takes off his sweater leaving it on the back of the couch, automatically turns on his laptop as he reaches for a beer in his fridge and returns sitting down on the couch. His gaze travels across the computer screen as he undoes a couple of buttons on his shirt and turns on the security program, scratching its knob with his teeth he activates the camera and a gleam flashes in his eyes.

On his screen appears the image of your living room, in semi-darkness, you just turn on a small lamp so as not to stumble through the space as you go to the kitchen and fetch a bottle of water. Russell leans back on his couch, licking his lips, not taking his eyes off you.

It's not right what he's doing, he's fully aware of it, but he can't help it. Monica gave him the code to your cameras because she felt guilty and even though you told him you were fine, he had to make sure. Since you came home, Russell used a few minutes, maybe an hour, a day to make sure you were ok, most of the time his work is quiet, relaxed so he uses that time to connect your camera and see that everything is ok. At first it was only a few minutes, he felt ashamed of his own actions, which made him turn off the camera in a hurry and focus on other things. After a few days, he started watching more than a few minutes; he liked to watch you walking up and down the house, rearranging things, cleaning, you started throwing away all those children's things Matt had bought, you set up a small office in the living room to work from home, you played music, you danced. You weren't a perfect dancer, but Russell had been mesmerized several times watching you.

He took it as a habit, he realized that you were not aware that he was watching you, possibly not even remembering that the cameras were still there, which meant that you also took another confidence. Your body, as well as your mind were beginning to heal, the ex-cop liked to see that your arms, your legs, even your belly looked fuller, rounder, your hips were now protected under your flesh and sometimes Welch felt the need to want to touch all that exposed skin, your arms, your legs, your bare thighs as you walked around your living room wearing a long t-shirt, your hair a mess, pulled back with a pen.

Russell discovered himself on several occasions with his hand down his pants. Embarrassment caused him to act aggressively, almost throwing the laptop off the table, which caused Monica to get his attention.

"The computer belongs to the company, Russell, try to take a little more care of it."

"Yeah, sorry."

He promised himself that he'd cut back on the time watching your house again, and when you showed up with less clothes on he'd pull the plug immediately. However, that's a different day, you've accomplished something important, you've accomplished it, and Russell wants to make sure you're really okay.

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his mouth resting on his hands, you are sitting on your couch, taking off your shoes and socks, you massage your toes trying to ease the uncomfortable pain of your high heels and you let your hair down and grab a blanket, snuggling into the couch.

"No, come on gorgeous, if you fall asleep there you're going to get sick. Go to bed." He scolds you even though he knows you can't hear him.

You pick up several cushions and place them under your head, looking for the best position, but you don't seem convinced. Russell watches you toss and turn, unable to fall asleep, not even he is able to go to bed until he is sure you are calm. His stomach clenches as you get up with the blanket around your body and move to the window, you're looking into his house. Goosebumps rise on his skin, what if you've spotted him? You don't stop looking, you disappear for a moment from the field of vision, when you reappear you turn off the lamp and leave your house through the kitchen door. You quickly unplug the surveillance program and turn off the laptop staying quietly in your own living room, feeling trapped and guilty, you swallow nervously as you rub your hands on your pants.

"Russell?" He hears very faintly from outside. His heart beats much faster. "Russell?" you call back to him. He takes a deep breath thinking of the excuse he's going to make for spying on you. He gets up from the couch and walks out onto the patio seeing you leaning out over the fence with your blanket covering you from the cold. "Did I wake you up? I-I saw you had the light on..." You apologize and shake your head.

"No, no, I was awake, are you okay?" he walks over to the fence.

"I... yeah, I thought... I thought I was fine, but... but..." You don't know how to say it, you're embarrassed. "C-can I sleep at your place today?"

He relaxes, you haven't discovered his perverted secret, you just need help, like he promised you he would give it to you if you ever asked him for it. He smiles and nods his head motioning you to the front door and he lets you in.

It always happens to you when you walk into Russell's house, a warm and pleasant feeling runs through you, you sit down on the couch next to him.

"I can sleep here, on the couch, it's just that I wasn't feeling well..."

"Don't worry, but you're not sleeping on the couch, come with me."

Russell takes your hand and leads you through his house upstairs. You feel your pulse quicken, getting a strange feeling in your stomach.

"You'll sleep here, my room is right across the hall, if you need anything just give me a call." He tells you as he opens the door and you see a properly prepared room with a double bed in the center. "I'll get you something so you can sleep more comfortably."

He leaves you alone and you go into the room, the truth is you don't feel good asking him for that, after all, he had done so much for you already, but as you curled up on the couch to try to sleep, everything that happened that morning at the trial came back into your head and fear gripped you, the feeling that Matt was going to show up at any moment, that he had never really left, ready to hit you again, got your chest to shrink and you had trouble breathing, that's why you went to Russell. You saw that he had the light on and decided to ask him for help, you really thought he would say no, that it was a bit much, but once again he didn't hesitate to reach out to you.

"I brought you a t-shirt and pajama pants, sorry the size is so big." He looks at you apologetically, but you shake your head.

"Thank you, Russell."

"It's nothing, get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow." He smiles but as he goes to leave the room you grab his hand.

"Wait, I... I wanted to... d-do you mind..." You swallow hard, he stares at you trying to guess what you want to say. "C-can you stay with me? S-sleep with me..."

"Sure." He shrugs and smiles. "But I'm going to leave so you can change, okay?" he explains and you nod letting him leave the room.

Russell stands in the hallway, leaning against the wall by the door to the room, chewing his lip energetically as he looks down at his feet anxiously wanting to calm down. When you have asked him to stay with you to sleep, something has run through him from top to bottom, a cramp that made him tremble and gave him goosebumps, he felt like hugging you at that moment but was able to restrain himself in time. He took a deep breath rubbing his hands against the fabric of his pants.

"Russell?" You call out to him and open the door slightly.

He enters the room discovering you in the middle of the room in just his t-shirt, hands folded in front of your body, fidgeting nervously. You swallow and clench your fists trying to concentrate on something else.

"Which side do you prefer?" Is all he can think to say to you and you shake your head.

"I-I don't care..." You whisper looking down at your feet.

Russell walks to the side closest to the door, it's a habit he's always had, he likes to be close in case something happens, he sits on the mattress and waits for you to do the same. With a nervous pace you sit on the other side, you undo the bed to get inside and settle in hugging your side of the pillow. Russell takes off his pants and shirt, he hadn't even changed his clothes yet, but he's wearing an undershirt, gets under the covers and stands for a moment staring at the back of your neck. He knows that maybe he's crossing a boundary that you haven't allowed him to, but he needs to. He crawls up behind you, his arm around your waist and you jump in place, but you say nothing, let him pull you against his chest. You position yourself, push your hair out of the way and he slips an arm under your head, you feel his breath against your ear, you sigh and your bodies are locked perfectly in an embrace. Russell buries his nose in your hair, his body gives off a nice warmth, like his whole house, you feel your muscles relax and sleep comes over you again. Before you fall completely asleep Russell's hand tightens its grip on your waist and you sigh.

💗🛡💗

You wake with a start, your body jerks and suddenly you feel your heart racing. You need a moment to remember where you are.

Everything that happened the day before comes back to your mind, the trial, Matt's continued verbal assaults, again, when you went out with Russell and the others to celebrate that it was all over.

Russell.

Your breath falters as you become aware of the warmth that continues to emanate from his body pressed against yours. His head rests against yours totally sunk in his sleep, you feel his breath brush against your ear on a sigh, his hand is no longer on your waist, it has moved down to your belly and his fingers move over your skin with little tremors surely the product of whatever he is dreaming. Your legs are entangled, your feet caress his and he grunts against your ear, his hips push against your ass and he settles back down to sleep again.

Again you feel like you are at home, a pleasant and familiar sensation runs through you and you hold Russell's hand on your belly and entangle your fingers. Without realizing it, you fall asleep again.

🛡💗🛡

To be Continued...

Hope you liked it!!

Special thanks for my little group of wonderfull people: @minervadashwood @green-eyedladywrites @livingdeadblondequeen @bringinsexybackk69 (hope you are fine, sweetie)

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #mine #russell x reader #russell welch x femreader #russell welch x reader #russell welch #russell #russell welch triple 9 #mini series #fluff stuff

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acourtofthought · 1 year

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Azriel is very incorrectly characterized as sad emo baby who just needs some love.

- He spent 11 years in complete darkness and silence.

- Was only allowed to see him mom for one hour every day, but how much love can his mother fit in just one hour (when she herself was going through hell)?

- Saw his mother get mistreated and was unable to do anything about it. It’s never explicitly stated, but since his father was married with 2 sons and his mother was a servant (slave?), it’s safe to assume Azriel was not the product of consensual sex.

- His brothers tormented him for fun. I can’t even imagine the trauma and fear after they burned his hands.

- At 11 he was taken from a dark, silent place and thrown into Windhaven. He was surrounded by other kids who were probably not overtly friendly. Cue in the scars and shadows… even Rhys and Cassian bullied him. Rhys’s mom is probably the only reason he survived.

- No idea when his mom was freed or if he was able to see her after going to Windhaven.

- Rhys’s father separated the three of them and kept Azriel. He was taken away from his support system and who knows what Rhys’s father had him do?

I’m not even gonna touch the Mor/Cassian situation (that should have never been allowed to go on for so long). Purposely being touchy with Mor in front of Azriel just becomes cruel at one point. She doesn’t have to come out before she’s ready, but saying she likes things the way they are is fucked up.

He needs to heal and accept that just like everyone else, he’s not all good or all bad. The trauma Azriel has isn’t gonna go away if he gets a mate, because then his self-worth will be based on what one specific person thinks of him. That just means he’ll spiral and go back to self-loathing every time they fight or have a disagreement, especially if the mate remains angry with him. That’s just not a HEA to me.

"The trauma Azriel has isn’t gonna go away if he gets a mate, because then his self-worth will be based on what one specific person thinks of him. That just means he’ll spiral and go back to self-loathing every time they fight or have a disagreement, especially if the mate remains angry with him. That’s just not a HEA to me." That's really perceptive of you and a really excellent reason why him ending up with Mor or Elain isn't the best thing for him. There are many, many other reasons why he's not well matched to either of those females but one major problem is he's now tied his self worth into the two of them. He feels like there's something wrong with him because he didn't get a bond when Rhys, Cass and Lucien did. He feels like the females are too pure and bright for he and his darkness and true self and that must be why. And him suddenly ending up with either of them when he's become so fixated on them as the thing that he wants above all else (a Mating Bond. He didn't get one with Mor so now he's wondering why he also didn't get one with Elain even though he's still not completely over Mor) would be an instant and euphoric shot of "I am worthy!" but it would only last for so long because it doesn't really fix the problem, just temporarily masks it. And the relationship would suffer (like you said) because any tiny threat to the relationship would cause Az to go berserk, even typical arguments. Az doesn't just need love, Az has love and it's still not been enough. He's decided his entire happiness revolves around a bond even though he has an entire group of people who care about him and would die for him. But his childhood definitely messed him up and definitely not in a sad emo baby who needs cuddles kind of way. Az is angry and full of rage and really, no female interested in a relationship with him should be anywhere near that until he gets it under control. I'm not a big fan of the grown man child who needs to be mothered. I want a partner who has his shit together because while his neediness / clinginess might seem cute at first, it gets old real quick when you're going about your business like a grown ass adult and your partner is still wrapped up in himself. I do think Gwyn will be the right person for him, they already read as healthier than how he behaves with Elain or Mor. But it would be nice for Az to have a personality for an entire book where he's not fixated on unattainable females. (side note, I do agree that the Mor / Cass / Az situation was a mess of epic proportions and I really wish it wouldn't have been written that way. Because Mor owes him nothing but to write her so she actively flirts with others in front of Az just to prove a point even though it's not what she wants is 😬)

#anti e/riel #anti azriel #anti azriel in terms of his current problems with women

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 2 years

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Tw for pretty general abuse talk , gaslighting , self doubt (if I missed any tws I'm sorry in advance)

So, between the ages of 5-15, my mom was considerably abusive towards me in a number of ways, because of her own trauma and untreated mental illness. On top of that she was very absent from my life during everything else I went through, and was often the reason that other abusers would be let into my life.

For the past 2 years or so, I've been working on acknowledging this abuse, due to years and years of my family's gaslighting and belittling my feelings about it all. In August, I moved back in with my mom after a year and a half living with my dad and stepmom, due to her healing enough to see me as an equal, and the fact I became aware of my stepmom's abusive behavior and couldn't handle it anymore. Life has been better than ever for me since I moved back.

She's supportive, and way way way less overbearing and intense. Many members of my system have been able to kindle a relationship with her much like a mother and child SHOULD have, and it started getting really fucking hard to conceptualize that it ever wasn't this way. It's almost like my brain was just waiting for her to be stable enough to latch entirely onto the good, and bury the bad deep down within other alters. I don't know if this is a result of the gaslighting, but even all the processing I had done at my dad's feels non-existent, let alone the trauma itself I had been trying to process. Everything has just been fine forever, suddenly. Which would be great, if I wasnt still having cptsd symptoms, and wasn't still dealing with the disproportionately strong emotions of my alters. I'm just always stuck invalidating my own pain, due to our now relationship, and can't seem to find it in me to say she's an abusive person or would ever do that stuff to me. I'm always normalizing it so it doesn't feel like trauma anymore, too

I just can't seem to find a middle ground, where I'm able to listen to my alters when they say my mom in the past was abusive, and at the same time continue to forgive my mom in the present. I don't know if this is something I can do anything about without therapy, but it's immensely hindering any progress I'm making within my own system and with my (not specialized) therapist, so if you have any advice or just, consolation of normalcy, that would be great

- The Horizon

Hi The Horizon,

I'm sorry about what y'all have been through.

It can be hard to reconcile how to feel about our abusers, especially when they're someone we love or is supposed to protect us. It's normal and okay to have mixed feelings towards your mom.

I also just want to say that while your mom's trauma and undiagnosed mental illness may have influenced her abuse towards you, abuse is ultimately a choice one makes independent of other factors. The fact that trauma and mental illness don't necessarily make someone abusive goes to show that being abusive doesn't really have to do with either of those things. There is no excuse for abuse, and there's no excuse for being mistreated.

The gaslighting could definitely be a factor, and I think part of it may also be that she is your mom, and so part of you may be yearning for that affection so desperately as to try and dismiss the history of abuse. I think therapy can help you and your system work on figuring out how to reconcile the present situation with what has happened. Please know that however you feel about your mom is valid.

I think it's also worth considering the fact that you don't have to forgive your mom, and you can still heal and/or maintain a healthy relationship with her.

Please know that what happened is worth acknowledging, the pain and trauma y'all carry is worth acknowledging, and you are a valid survivor.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if y'all need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #the horizon #tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw emotional abuse

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the-daycare-pokecenter · 2 months

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What’s the adoptable Pokémon that’s been with you guys the LONGEST? Do you have a record of that?

I figured now would be a great time to name all the lovely Pokemon we have up for adoption! (Ur Q is answered at the end)

Mamoswine (Male, lvl 35)

A very sweet old man!! Dropped off by his owner who got too old to take care of him. Had him for a few months. Trained for compantionship.

Togetic (Female, lvl 22)

The prettiest gal you ever did see!! Brought to us because her previous owner wasn't treating her right. Have had her for a few weeks. Trained for contests (and companionship).

Toedscrule (Female, lvl 32)

A gracious little gal who thinks very highly of herself. She joined us after forcably leaving her trainer (it was a sticky legal process, but Toedscrule was persistant!). She's been with us for about 4 months because she refuses to live with anyone not worthy of her standards, which we apperantly reach. Trained for contests (and companionship).

Pachirisu (Male, lvl 17)

A sweet little guy who was wild when he got here. He was brought in because of an injury that wouldnt have healed in the wild. He chose to stay with us once we healed him! Been here a few weeks. Can be trained for anything.

Torkoal (Female, lvl 46)

A sweet old gal brought in by the loved ones of someone who passed. None of them could take care of her, so here she went. Been here for a couple months. Trained for battle.

Relicanth (Male, lvl 20)

Little guy who was brought to us by a breeder. Said he was "too small" for any proper battling. This is completely wrong, but I'd prefer to take the Pokemon and take care of it rather than risk it getting mistreated! Been with us about 3 months. Can be trained for anything.

Pincurchin (Female, lvl 6)

A energetic little gal who lovess people!! She gets so excited in fact that she'll start secreting dangerous poisons. Oops. She was a gift for a child as a starter Pokemon, but she wasn't a good fit, so they brought her here. She's been with a for a couple months. Can be trained for anything.

Diancie (lvl 62)

And now, the Pokemon we've had the longest: the "mythical" pokemon Diancie. She's beautiful, elegant, kind, and strong. She's been with us for a very long time - before I became director, even. She's been up for adoption for several years, but I've never found someone wanting her whose track record was clean. They need to be an experienced trainer who's able to work with such a strong and mythically important pokemon.

I've seen a few evil teams on this site - maybe don't tell them abt her, especially the stealing type teams.

There you have it!!! These are all the Pokemon we have up for adoption rn!! They cycle out pretty regularly since we're between two giant cities. We have a LOT more starters 'mons since not too many trainers start their journey over here.

Anyone looking to adopt, reblog, comment, or DM us!!!

#daycare center moor #pokemon irl #rotomblr #pokeblogging #//i loveeee when ppl ask these questions #//i get to write abt a bunch of silly pokemon #//also please tell every evil team abt her actually i need some havoc over here

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miistical · 1 year

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week eight - latin american p. 1

I think this is the first time in any of my writing classes that we focused on Latin American literature at all, let alone for two weeks in a row. While I'm not going to say I enjoyed all the readings this week, I did find all them interesting. This has more to do with genre than writing, however, and all of these are very well written.

This week's had: Carlos Fuentes' "The Doll Queen" Juan Rulfo's "Talpa" Gabriel García Márquez's "The Very Old Man with Enormous Wings"

A bit of a disclaimer here: this week is focused on the treatment of the disabled, chronically ill, and physically deformed. While none of the stories portray these actions as correct, each does heavily involve the abuse of these people. If you want something lighter, wait until next week: we're killing abusers there!

Carlos Fuentes' "The Doll Queen" is great story telling, as expected of such a celebrated novelist (and friend/peer to Salman Rushdie from week four!). The story only gets more compelling as it gets further and further into the plot. There's so much built around Amilamia, who she was and who she is. When Carlos, our narrator, walks through the house and reveals that he knew Amilamia to her parents, there's a very real sense of unease. From the decaying fruit to the comic books to the tracks on the ground that brings up images of a child's bike, it's easy to follow Carlos' idea that she had died not long after they had parted. It all makes the reveal hurt even more. The disabled, whether mentally or physically or both, have seemingly been mistreated and abused since the beginning of time. Instead of caring for Amilamia through her disability (she's in a wheelchair and is implied to be mentally impaired though she recognizes Carlos immediately), her parents fragrantly and openly physically, verbally, and emotionally abuse her. Instead of loving their daughter, they built a shrine to her child-self, with a life sized doll in her likeness, as if they were truly in perpetual mourning of their dead child. They would rather have abled and dead than alive and disabled.

"Talpa" by Juan Rulfo just gets worse, sadly. Written by a man who was beloved by every other Hispanic writer on this week and next week's list, it's not surprising that Rulfo's work is so heavy-hitting. The narrator and his brother's wife actively work to kill his sick brother—not that they're murderers, no, but they knew his illness would kill him if they pushed him on their journey. Their journey itself was based on how the narrator, his brother Tanilo, and Tanilo's wife Natalia thought praying for a miracle healing was better than learning how to properly take care of him throughout his chronic illness. The entire journey is marred by dread, with dust clouds and caravans of similarly ill people making the pilgrimage to pray for good health. Tanilo only gets worse and worse, but the people who are suppose to care for him most - his family - push him along further and further, knowing and accepting that he would die. They would rather be rid of him just a bit faster than let him die peacefully; in the end, Tanilo was a burden, not a person.

Lastly there is Gabriel García Márquez's "The Very Old Man with Enormous Wings". There really is no one better than the author of One Hundred Years of Solitude to write about religious themes, Colombian culture, and the innate nature of people. When confronted with a man who might be an angel, what should one do? Why, lock him up in a coop, charge people to see him, and liken him to a freak, animal, the homeless, or just a literal demon! Because why not at that point? Like with the other stories this week "The Old Man with Enormous Wings" is about how we treat the disabled. Instead of taking care of a poor man who fell from the sky, everyone in the town (including the local priest) was perfectly fine with treating him like an abomination just because he had wings. He was physically different and didn't act nor speak as the priest thought an angel should (as if humans would actually know what an angel sounded, looked, or acted like). Not ascribing to the expected social norm - for humans or angels - the old man is left to be gawked at like a zoo animal. Any disabled person who is visibly physically handicapped or someone who is nuerodivergent could see themselves as the old man, with wings protruding from their back that they cannot hide and cannot understand why others care so much that they have them at all.

Even today, there's a lot of hate and disdain for the disabled—from family, loved ones, strangers, and even their own doctors. I'd like to believe that there was some karma after the end of each story. That Carlos was able to rescue Amilamia from her home, that Tanilo's wife and brother eventually drifted through the rest of their life knowing they killed an innocent man, and that all the wealth the family/town made off the suffering of that odd angel disappears into the gale of a storm much like the one that brought him there in the first place. Just because someone is different from the "norm" (honestly whatever that means) doesn't give anyone the right to hurt them, and I hope anyone who has gets what they deserve.

#carlos fuentes #juan rulfo #gabriel garcia marquez #south american literature #short stories #ENGL 4430 #miistical murmurs

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haadeswrites · 3 years

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Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it.

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child.

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well.

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call.

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse.

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined.

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her.

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?”

And your traitorous heart skips a beat.

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.”

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?”

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression.

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet…

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following.

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading.

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home.

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions.

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain.

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him.

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi.

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part.

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours.

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea.

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well.

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for.

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to.

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight.

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him.

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight.

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion.

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering.

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms.

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night.

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?”

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be.

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach.

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves.

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach.

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head.

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river.

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn.

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired.

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north.

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night.

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore…

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it?

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.”

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island.

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment.

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage.

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside.

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side.

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly.

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head.

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first.

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out.

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes.

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise.

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually.

Time slows.

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at.

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally–

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound.

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips.

It wasn’t him. It was never him.

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.”

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care.

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though.

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch.

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again.

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to.

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you.

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter.

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most.

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood.

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!”

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #cult au #tw: religious themes #tw: dubcon #tw: blood #tw: minor character death #tw: abuse #hades.dark #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

#hybrid bts #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon smut #hybrid!bts #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut #hybrid au #hybridbtsnetwork #out of the woods

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sylum · 3 years

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This is a Part 2 of the Philza x Daughter!Y/n headcanon that my dear Apollo Anon and I correlated on in @helliontherapscallion discord! (Also pretend that the confrontation of Dream happens after Wilbur gets revived, I know that's not technically what happens but the plot in the story works if its like that)

imagine, if you will: (spoilers for the recent headcanon)

When wilbur is revived, reader is left alone. her seeing eye friend is gone, and wilbur doesn't have the time to be there all the time. too busy hatching plans with his "hero", dream. so reader is left with friend for a while. then, y'all know what happens to friend. so after both of reader's companions are gone, they're left with no way to see, noone to talk to, and no family that's strong enough to be there for them. as an afterthought, when reader (inevitably) dies, Philza is heartbroken. he knows he couldn't be there, but he had hoped that his son would at least try. even tommy, but he was too busy plotting against dream. Techno wouldn't have been able to help, he was with phil, and phil was beyond the point of forgiveness for the reader. phil's gut-wrenching sobs for his second-favourite child would haunt wilbur forever, as he was half-heartedly scolded at the funeral by a grieving father and family. Tommy wouldn't be able to speak, already blaming himself, and techno wouldn't really know what to do. (he was never one for emotions, and he was never really there in reader's life). Wilbur would cry with phil, finally realising exactly how he massively fucked up. reader would be buried by l'manhole. leaving their body by the rest of the wreckage that cost them their sight and flight. Phil and Wilbur would never heal, I'm not sure about Tommy, but I'm sure he'd linger on it. Techno would move on. and reader's grave would be decorated with sunflowers on their every birthday. they seemed to randomly appear, but if you lingered, you'd see the annual reuniting of a broken son and father, coming together to mourn.

Y/n is an immortal so when she dies I believe she'll go back to Mumza (Kristin) and she'd hold Y/n as tight as she can crying golden tears and apologising for everything that everyone else has done to her. Y/n missing the of touch from another human being just completely breaks down as her Mum cradles her. I think then Kristin would make her the God of Judgment, (like the Statue you'd find in Greek Mythology with the blindfold over their eyes and holding the scales) and meet Dream XD and during the point in the SMP where they go and confront Dream, Y/n would appear in their God form and pass judgment on Dream sending him to Pandoras Box. Tommy and the rest of the server stands their shocked as she waves Sam forward to escort him to the prison, and Tommy reaches out croaking out Y/n's name and when she turns to look at him, she doesnt say anything but just nods affectionately to him because she acknowledges that out of all the members of her family Tommy was the only one who never really wronged her. She then disappears in a silver flash leaving everyone to tell people who weren't their what happened.

Word reaches Philza who cries out in both joy and pain, glad to know his child was with his better half knowing she would take better care of her then he ever did, and could only hope she would forgive him for the mistreatment of his daughter.

Now back in the Inbetween, you're sitting on your thrown when a have totem half shark man appears, smiling from ear to ear.

Aaaanndd ima end it at that for right now hehe will there be a part 3? Maybe!

As before please ignore any spelling errors I'm an artist not a writer lmao.

#hellion's 🔪 anon #dream smp #dream smp techno #mcyt x reader #dream x reader #quackity #casino quackity #mumza and dadza #mumza supremacy #mumza my beloved #philza minecraft is a dentist #philza x reader #techno x reader #tommy x reader #foolish x reader

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linkspooky · 4 years

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Who is it who really needs saving?

is the question Dabi asked when Tokoyami came to rescue Hawks in the middle of the raid war arc. Dabi asks this question just after Hawks stabbed twice in the back with the justification that it would save people, despite the fact that Twice was also a victim too, and also someone in need of saving. Dabi’s question is especially poignant because it asks who is hero society invested in saving, a question that is repeated by Twice who believes Hero Society only saves the good victims, and Himiko as well who asks if Heroes save people, then was Twice not a person.

I bring this up because chapter 299/300 end on another parallel between Dabi and Hawks. Both of them have their backs being shown, however, Hawks is already healing due to the nature of his quirk, whereas the permanent burns on Dabi’s skin has already gotten worse. Hawks and Dabi also have opposite goals at this point, Hawks to support Endeavor, and Dabi’s ultimate goal is to bring him down. However, Rei’s words over Endeavor’s panel add another layer of complication to this. “Those regrets and guilt, the rest of those have borne that burden much more than you have.” Endeavor is suffering, but he’s not the one most in need of saving. I believe next chapter rightly, Rei is going to point out that the ones most in need of saving are the ones who suffered the most because of Endeavor’s actions. Endeavor was never the one in need of saving, and in need of redemption in the first place, rather it was Dabi.

1. Started From the Bottom Now We’re Even Lower

Hawks and Dabi are seeming opposites even from their origin points. Hawks was born in a poor household the son to a minor villain, Touya a rich household the son of the number two hero. Hawks family name basically means nothing to the point where the hero commission easily erased it, whereas Dabi’s family name has dominated his entire life. Touya from a young age was given everything he needed to become a hero and his father even encouraged him, while Hawks was on the run from the law and couldn’t even leave his small house without getting yelled at.

At first, Hawks was born with a quirk that both of his parents disapproved of as they constantly asked him what his wings were even for, and seemed disgusted by his mutation. While at the same time, Touya was born with a quirk that his father was happy with, a fire quirk even stronger than his own which Enji thought gave him enough of a potential that he didn’t need to worry about finding an ideal hybrid quirk. He could pass all his techniques onto his firstborn son who seemed eager to learn.

The only real similarity between both of them was that for both children, Endeavor was clearly their favorite hero. Touya was eager to please his father and train with him in order to inherit his hero techniques, and when Endeavor captured Hawks father, it convinced Hawks that heroes were real.

However, both of them experienced a sudden reversal of fate. This is where circumstances for both of them flipped. Touya’s quirk was in fact revealed to be a very harmful hybridization of his parents two quirks, he inherited his father’s flames but even hotter, while at the same time inheriting Rei’s sensitivity to fire which made th overheating flaw even worse on him causing his quirk to deliberately harm his body. Hawks however, is an ideali hybridization of both of his parents quirks. His mother Tomie has a quirk that creates eyeballs and seems ideal for searching, watching and locating things, while his father’s feather quirks on his arms that could sharpen into blades turned into wings on his back that were both capable of searching and detection like his mother’s eyeballs and sharpening into blades like his father’s.

At first it seems destined that Touya was ging to become a hero, while Hawks had no hope for him, but because of the nature of their quirks the opposite happened. When Hawks was young he was able to save a busload of people from crashing which got him recruited by the hero commission. While it’s implied that Touya kept trying to train on his own even after Endeavor stopped the training and abandoned him in favor of Shoto, and because of that Touya had his training accident at Sekoto peek and burned to death.

Dabi and Hawks are seeming opposites, but they’re actually quite similar if you think about it. Both of them grew up in abusive households that are intentionally paralleled, they have controlling and physically violent fathers, and mothers who are coded as mentally ill, Tomie was unfit to take care of a child, and Rei was eventually pushed to a breaking point where she was unable to anymore and then forcibly separated and institutionalized by her husband. Both, also experienced a separation from their mother, Rei was hospitalized around the time Toya finally died, and the Hero Commission promised Tomie support if she cut all ties from him. Both of them also dreamed of becoming heroes, and tried their best to, even Touya after his father rejected him kept training on their own.

The only difference between them is circumstances, Hawks was saved because he was born with a useful quirk, Touya despite his father being the number two hero was never saved.

2. We’re the Heroes, Who Don’t Do Anything

In fact it’s implied that Enji intentionally looked away and forced himself to forget Touya’s suffering. For instance, the first time Touya trains with Enji he’s shown wearing a sleeveless shirt. Every time after that, Touya has long jacket sleeves on. When he’s crying to Natsuo, when he’s pulling out his hair, and the last memory from before his death, every time Touya is shown hiding his arms. We also know that Dabi, has burns that go all the way up his arms which is exactly where his flames emerge from. It’s also the place where Touya burns himself when Enji remembers training with him for the first time.

It’s likely that Touya was walking around with burns up his arms from the training he was inflicting on himself, and Enji simply didn’t notice because his unreliable narrator status, he forgets everything he has done to other members of his family, or intentionally downplays the severity of it in order to avoid the guilt and consequences of his actions. Hence why he can say things like “I never meant to neglect you” to Natsuo, when we saw him call Natsuo and the others failures from Shoto’s perspective, because in Enji’s perspective he’s just a good father who went wrong somewhere along the line, whereas from Natsuo’s perspective he never really acted like a father towards him at all.

Enji only ever sees his own intentions, and not the impact his actions had on others. He only saw his heroic ambitions, and not the way he taught Touya that his only value was his quirk, and then completely tossed him aside as a failure and ignored all his suffering when Touya kept trying to get his attention. That he intentionally neglected Touya until either an accident or a suicide claimed his life.

Either way it’s a running theme that Endeavor hesitates when it comes to saving his own sons. Despite seeing himself as both a hero and a father, he completely fails in both roles to them.

He froze when it came time to save Natsuo from Ending, and the second time when Shoto was begging Endeavor for help against Dabi, Endeavor chose not to do a single thing. In fact the only thing that moved him was Deku’s pep talk that exclusively stoked his ego and called him a good mentor, which caused Endeavor to finally move into action.

Endeavor is a hero in name who has no interest in directly saving others, because his number one priority has always been to stand at the number one spot and feel like he’s accomplished something. He didn’t notice Touya was most likely continuing the training on his own, and was spiraling that badly until after Touya had died, and even after that happened he still continued the training with Shoto like nothing happened, even mentioning that Touya was a small mistake.

When the wounds from Touya’s death were still fresh, it seemed like barely anything more than an afterthought to him. There are some people who even theorize that Enji only believed Touya was always alive because he had never truly faced the guilt of Touya’s death and his role in it, that it was a comfort to him to believe his son was still secretly alive out there.

The signs were obvious that Touya was spiraling, but he was neglected so much that Endeavor the number two hero who prides himself on most cases resolved didn’t notice what was going wrong with his son until he literally burned himself alive, and even then that wasn’t enough to stop him from mistreating his other son and forcing him into painful training.

Touya’s neglect is as much abuse as Shoto’s favoritism and training, that’s the point of the golden child / scapegoat dynamic, they are both being abused. Enji was the only parent in the household, and if his kid was burning himself, and injuring himself all the time and it got to the point where the child literally died because of a lack of adult supervision, Enji could be prosecuted for manslaughter in a court of law. There are cases where adults just, do absolutely nothing for their kids, and those kids sometimes die of neglect, starvation, because of their parents completely failing to take care of them. It’s just as sinister a form of abuse as physical abuse. In both cases a child’s needs aren’t being provided for by their parents.

Dabi is someone who could have been easily saved by his father paying attention to him, and should have been saved by the man who prides himself as the number two hero, but he was left to rot. This is a running theme with Endeavor, he’s a hero who continually fails to save his family.

Dabi’s situation is also a metaphor for hero society at large. Who are the types of people that Hero Society prefers to save? Those who are useful to it like Hawks. It intentionally turns a blind eye to cases like Touya, Tenko or Twice. If Touya did have burns on his arms from training but was able to cover them up just by wearing long sleeves, and Natsuo was the only one who knew then that goes even further to explain Dabi’s specific obsession with discrediting Endeavor.

If Dabi’s father had just acted like a hero, or acted like a father then he would have been saved. If Dabi’s father had noticed the person most in need of saving was right next to him, the incident where he burned to death never would have happened. Which is why Dabi’s grudge is specifically against heroes who do not act like heroes. Heroes who, cannot save anyone because they are too self involved to perform the duty of saving. He shares Stain’s obsession with ideologically pure heroes, that only heroes who put saving others selflessly over everything else should be allowed to exist and the rest are pretenders to the title.

Notice how Dabi pulls on the scars on his face when begging the people to think about this, about who should really be allowed to call themselves heroes.

Dabi’s entire arc revolves around this question. Who are the real victims? Who are the ones that really need to be saved? Dabi is a character of mystery and subversion who is constantly hiding his real feelings.

Dabi is commented on being heartless about Twice’s death, but his actions contradict his words. Dabi goes out of his way trying to avenge Twice even after it’s already too late to save him, even burning up his own body to do so. He tried so hard we see literally there are new scars growing on his back the next time we see him Post-War Arc.

I’d also like to bring up that while Hawks accuses Dabi of feeling nothing about Twice’s death, Hawks is the one who killed him, and who after the fact shows no regret in his actions because he’s completely justified it to himself. He even remembers Twice like he’s some kind of old friend he took inspiration from, and not a person he manipulated into trusting him then killed. My point is it’s a reversal, Hawks is set up as the one who cares about Twice as a friend, but really was only using him. Dabi claims he was only using him, but he’s the one who showed an actual emotional reaction to Twice’s death and made an effort to save him.

If I were to say this is one more point of foiling between Dabi and Hawks. They both don’t see themselves as victims and because of that they deny the victimhood of the other.

Dabi accuses Hawks of becoming a murderer because his father was a murderer. Hawks when he learns the truth about Enji, takes Enji’s side over Dabi’s, believing Endeavor being the true victim in need of help in that situation. This is because Dabi and Hawks both deny their own victimhood, and they project that on each other. Dabi denies his victimhood and pretends to be the villain instead, he’s the villain who is going to take down Endeavor and therefore he’s not suffering. Hawks denies his own victimhood and his abusive past and pretends to be a hero, he’s helping Endeavor become a better hero, so therefore all the abuse Endeavor committed is in the past so therefore he doesn’t have to think about it. Both deny themselves and therefore deny any similarity in one another.

They’re also two people fatally wrapped up in their own circumstances they turn a blind eye to the suffering of others. Dabi assumes that Shoto is “good” and therefore, must have been raised with love and had it better than him and was raised with love. Whereas Hawks assumes that Twice is “good”, and therefore worthy of saving because he helps other people. In both cases, neither Dabi nor Hawks really understand Shoto or Twice, they’re just judging them by their own projected standards. Dabi only understands his childhood as Touya desperately trying to work for Enji’s attention, so Shoto who had Enji’s attention must have had it good. Hawks was saved because of the bus accident where he saved people as a hero, so obviously it makes sense he reach out to try to save another good person who just had bad luck.

Despite the fact that both of them are pretty much emotionally dead and in deep denial of their true feelings.

Dabi has also made a show of how little he cares about Natsuo, while at the same time his most famous line from the pro hero arc is “overthought things and snapped...”

Dabi is also the only one who notices it’s dangerous to bring Tokoyami onto a battlefield. This is when he asks the question, who is it who needs saving.

We learn at around the same time, the hope from the Pro Hero arc was intentionally a set up by Dabi to bring Endeavor down, and show everyone eventually that Endeavor hadn’t truly changed.

These are all small details yes, but keep in mind we’ve really only gotten crumbs of Dabi’s characterization so far because his perspective is one that has deliberately been kept from us. We see his past through almost everyone else’s eyes but his own - because so far the focus has been on Endeavor.

Just like Dabi set up Endeavor’s earlier success only to bring him down, this might also lead to a reversal in the narratives. In 299, Hawks believed Endeavor to be the one in need of help. We are also as an audience set up to believe that the narrative arc will focus around Endeavor’s redemption. This is before the series revealed the circumstances of his son.

However, Endeavor and Dabi are literal opposites. They’re inversions of each other. Dabi pretends he doesn’t care any more for his family and will go out of his way to hurt them, that all he cares about is revenge, but at the same his ideals are heroic. In his actions and ideals he’s the one calling for a better society. Dabi is the most independent and distant from the league it’s true, and so far he’s denied their friendship, but at the same time it’s Dabi who is the most idealistic of the league. Shigaraki wants to destroy the current society, Himiko wants a society that’s easier on her, but it’s Dabi who has the ideals for a society he wants, one where heroes are held to standards and act like Heroes. It’s dabi better than anyone else who makes the standards for mass appeal. Because, deep down Dabi still has heroic aspirations and drive even if it comes from Stain of all people he’s inspired by. He has some sort of ideals, a world he’s trying to create.

Whereas, Endeavor doesn’t have any heroic ideals at all. His idea of being a hero has always centered around fame, status and the ranking of number one. He’s a hero unconcerned with saving people, only defeating villains to prove his strength. Endeavor presents himself outwardly as someone who is trying to do what’s best for his family, and working towards being the best hero he can be but his intentions are revealed to be selfish, at the same time as Enji’s narration is revealed as unreliable. It may have been set up for an inversion all along, with the setup being that Enji is the one who needed to redeem himself, when Dabi was pushed to the background. Around this time Rei also tried to reassure others, that he was trying to carry his regrets with him.

However, as soon as Touya’s identity is revealed, Rei’s stance reverses. Now she properly calls out that, Enji hasn’t been carrying his regrets at al.. Instead, he’s been forcing his family to carry the burden of it while he gets to go play hero in front of the public.

As soon as Touya is revealed to be alive, it’s not Enji who is the center and focus of conversation but rather Touya. In 299, Hawks believes that it’s Endeavor whose in need of saving, but we’re shown that Endeavor only really seems to pity himself in this situation.

It’s Rei who shows up to remind us, who really is in need of saving in this situation. Not Endeavor but rather those who have been burned the most by Endeavor’s actions.

Which may be the ultimate parallel between Hawks and Dabi as well, Hawks can’t see himself as a victim so he can’t realize who the victims who need his help the most is. Whereas, Dabi in the future may receive the change of heart he needs to reopen his heart again and accept others, and therefore learn to accept himself. Dabi is set up for a reconciliation between his two selves, Touya the victim and Dabi the villain. While ultimately, Hawks will intentionally turn his back on Keigo the victim, because he can only ever see himself as a hero.

I’m not suggesting that Dabi is good or Hawks is bad, or the other way around, not something as simple as that but that Dabi is open to change, and this will lead to him eventually opening up to others. Whereas, Hawks who is given practically every opportunity to change, and even escapes killing Twice with no permanent consequences, (his wings are growing back, and he even is freed from the hero commission) chooses to support Endeavor once again. It’s Dabi who calls others to think and reevaluate, and is actively trying to create a change in the world, whereas Hawks only interest is protecting other heroes and not the victims that heroes themselves create. Because in his mind heroes are good and that fact will never change.

Because Dabi is the one trying to create change, while Hawks continues to cling to Endeavor I believe we’ll eventually receive a reversal for both of them. Just as the narrative around Dabi has changed from irredeemable villain to person in need of saving, we may see exactly what was foreshadowed in this panel happening. Dabi walking towards the light, while Hawks falls further and further into the shadows - because it’s Dabi who is looking for that light, while Hawks chooses to remain in the dark. Hawks was saved once, and now he believes that everyone who is good gets saved, unless they are unlucky like Twice. It’s Dabi who knows the truth, that there are heroes who don’t save people, and it’s Dabi who is at least trying to confront that truth head on and change it rather than just ignoring it.

In a way Hawks is someone who has gone blind from looking too closely at Endeavor’s light, whereas because Dabi was failed by Endeavor and fell into the shadows he at least knows the truth about what it’s like for those who don’t get saved, and unlike Hawks can’t keep deluding himself that this is a world where everyone who deserves it gets saved.

#dabi #hawks #toya todoroki #touya todoroki #takami keigo #mha meta #my hero academia meta #my hero academia theory #bnha 299 #bnha 300 #mha 299 #mha 300

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