#what is the tag for this kind of mind games and abuse to make you doubt yourself? anyways its hot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ficsilike-reblogged · 1 year

Text

Invisible Smoke - Four

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he doesn’t run.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 10.9k

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

A/N: I do not keep a tag list!! Life is still weird but thank you all for sticking with this little story of mine. I really appreciate all the kind words you sent on the last chapter. Only one more chapter to go!

Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Also, Jake is a (stubborn) simp.

Someone had slashed your tires.

Well, you shouldn’t say someone. You knew who had done it. It didn’t exactly take a doctorate to read the context clues—but you were pretty sure your insurance would drop you if you put in another claim, so you begrudgingly prepared to pay the hefty towing fee to the nearest tire shop and fork over even more cash for four new tires. This was one of the few times you wished your little bungalow actually had a garage. And god, you were so tired of this. So tired of the mind games he thought he was playing with you. He thought he was clever. But it was all just so repetitive. You had half a mind to just wait, out in the open, to let him do what he wanted just so it would be over.

It had only been two days since the dog fight football game and the following get together at the Hard Deck. Two days since you caught Jake’s eye at the water’s edge and felt your entire chest twist. He knew now. He knew what you were hiding.

You hadn’t been able to read the look in his eyes but Bradley had taken you aside before you slipped away for the night and basically told you that Jake, for better or for worse, was wanting and willing to help. “Give him a chance, Punch. Don’t you think he deserves that, at least? And you deserve to be happy.”

“When did you become a fortune cookie, Bradley?”

But you wanted to believe him. You did.

But Luke had made you glaringly aware that you weren’t really capable of having a relationship aside from a handful of hours with someone who’d forget your name by morning. You had expected to feel some sort of relief in knowing that Jake hadn’t wanted to wash his hands of you after learning about Luke, but all it did was make you feel like you were painting an even larger target on Jake’s back. He really did want to play hero, didn’t he?

You pushed the thought away as you texted Natasha, telling her you’d be late for brunch and she was quick to tell you not to worry about the tow, she’d send one of the boys to get you to the tire shop. You were expecting Bob and his reliable GMC; he’d been invited to brunch as well anyway.

But a familiar Ford F-250 pulled up instead and Jake stepped out of the cab, looking like a GQ model in a tight Henley and jeans that hugged his thighs a little too well to be fair. He looked at your car and your destroyed tires for just a moment before turning his gaze to you. Your heart gave an answering leap but you tried to not let it show and rolled your shoulders back as he took wide strides toward you.

“Did he do anything else? Did you check your windows-”

“You shouldn’t be here.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even pretend to think of a more polite greeting.

Jake arched an eyebrow before setting his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s just too damn bad, Punch. I am here and I’m not leaving until you tell me what's going on. Now, did anything else happen?”

You wanted to send him away. Wanted to keep him safe. But he was here. He was here and looking at you with those stupidly beautiful green eyes. “It’s just the tires,” you muttered, giving in. At least in this regard. You could handle everything else later.

Jake’s mouth set in a thin line before he moved to look at your tires again. He dug at one of the tears, the edge of his finger easily passing through the ruined rubber. “Jesus.”

Perhaps you should have been surprised when he turned back to the bed of his truck and pulled out a tire and then another and another until four new tires were stacked neatly beside your car. But you had a feeling Jake would always be three steps ahead of you. Infuriating.

“Please tell me you didn’t buy me new tires.”

“All right. I won’t tell you that.”

“Seresin, you can’t be serious. Tell me how much I owe you.”

Jake leaned forward just enough to steal the keys from your hands and popped open your trunk before handing them back. “I don’t want your money.”

“Well, that’s too fucking bad,” you retorted as you followed him to the back of your car. “Tires are expensive! I can afford it. Just let me pay you! You’re already saving me money by not making me take a tow truck. And I might actually make it to brunch on time because of you, too. If you don’t give me an amount, I’ll have to guess.”

Jake moved the mat in your trunk and found your jack and tire iron and then gently grasped your hand that you’d set on the lip of your trunk and moved it before closing it. He then tugged you closer with that damn dimpled smirk and stared down at you with his stupid green eyes. “I’m not taking your money.”

“I will shove money into your pockets at the most inopportune moments and ruin every conquest you set your eyes on.”

But the threat fell flat as Jake’s smirk widened. “So, you’re planning on sticking your hands down my pants…repeatedly?”

Heat washed over you in an angry wave and you pulled your hands out from under his with a grimace instead of a snarl. “Only you would say something like that.”

His smirk continued as he stepped back and set the jack beneath your car and started to twist. “I’m not taking your money.”

“I’m paying for your drinks at the Hard Deck forever.”

“No.”

As he twisted the jack, your eyes were drawn (inevitably) to how his sleeves strained with his moving muscles. That shirt was fighting for its life and you were ogling him like a piece of meat (again). This whole situation was ridiculous! The man who’d tried to kill you twice had slashed your tires and you were flirting (possibly, maybe) with Jake like you didn’t have a care in the world. All of this was wrong. And incredibly stupid.

“Whatever. I’ll do what I want,” you lamely replied, hoping it sounded stronger than it felt.

“I’m sure you will, Punch.” Each word was dripping with something you couldn’t and wouldn’t name and you hated that Jake was able to easily have you smiling when he was there to fix a problem you created.

The tires were changed out within an hour and you invited Jake inside for a glass of water and asked if he wanted to tag along to brunch, it was the last you could do, right?

“I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“You’re not intruding. Bob’ll be there, too.” The brunch had been an impromptu plan anyway, cobbled together while you’d worked on Natasha and Bob’s jet and listened to Maverick and Cyclone berate the Top Gun students who had started another fight on the tarmac (apparently having learned nothing from the dog fight football games). You’d just been happy your pilots hadn’t been caught in the crossfire this time.

Jake looked at you over his half-finished glass of water and you had to keep yourself from shrinking away from his gaze. His glass clinked against the linoleum as he finished and you tried not to notice how he licked his lips free of the last few droplets of water. “So?” You pushed out, trying to keep your voice level. “Wanna come along?”

Jake’s silence turned at something in your stomach and Bradley’s not-at-all true observation was echoing at the back of your mind before Jake’s smirk returned. “You’re going to try to pay for brunch, aren’t you?”

You hadn’t even thought about it but… “Well, I invited you, so-”

“No.”

You groaned, snatching the glass from him and setting it in your dishwasher as Jake chuckled behind you. “You’re being a child.”

Jake rounded the corner, pushing further into the kitchen behind you, and crossed his arms over his chest (and no you weren’t looking at his arms again). “Why won’t you let me do anything nice for you?”

You frowned and matched his stance and crossed your arms, too. “I let you do nice things. You came with me to Junior’s party with me.”

“After you drove me there and tried to have me take credit for your gift and you introduced me to that group of brass to help me with my career.”

“That was a coincidence.”

“But you still did it.” He stepped closer and you hated that it was instinctual to take a step back, too. “Want to tell me why everything I do for you has to be reciprocal?”

That wasn’t the question you were expecting and your fingernails dug into the meat of your arm as you tried to keep your face neutral. “There’s give and take to everything. And I… You should just let me pay you.”

“I’m not gonna let you pay me, Punch. And you’re going to learn that not everything is a give and take. Who taught you that, anyway?”

God. You hated this. You hated these questions and the soft look in his eyes. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Jake scoffed.

“Why?”

You could see Jake’s jaw clench, tendons working and tightening. But as quickly as it started, it stopped. He just shook his head and the tense silence in the kitchen continued to stretch until it was finally broken by Jake’s next question. “Are we ever going to talk about it?”

And you knew what he was asking. And you wanted to hate that he was connecting dots that you had tried to erase. “What is there to say? You know everything now.”

“I heard it from Rooster, not you. It is your story, Punch.”

“Rooster knows it just as well as I do, I think,” you muttered with a shrug, trying not to shrink away from him. “What else is there for you to know?”

Jake stepped forward, enveloping you in the scent of his expensive cologne and tinge of jet fuel that seemed to cling to him as he closed the distance to stand at your side and brush his arm against yours. “I want to know everything. Haven’t I told you that?”

You gnawed at your lip for a moment before stepping away from the counter. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Luke was an asshole then and he’s an asshole now. I should’ve seen the signs, I get that. I do. But he was so good when he wanted to be. And after being an afterthought for most of my life, it was nice to pretend that someone was choosing me.” This was just pathetic. Stop talking. Stop talking. If he hadn’t thought of washing his hands of you before, he was surely doing it now.

“What do you mean you were an afterthought?”

You rolled your shoulders and turned just enough to look at him before glancing at the little clock above your oven. “Doesn’t matter now. But, if we leave in the next five minutes, we’ll probably beat Natasha and Bob to brunch. So, are you coming?”

The ride was mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant Phoenix had picked overlooking the water. But Jake knew you were thinking about telling him something else as you sat in his passenger seat, watching the road pass your window. So, he just told himself to be patient. Again. It was a bright spot to finally know what you looked like in his truck. God knows he’s imagined it more than he’d like to admit, like some lovesick teenager.

You were picking at your cuticles without taking your eyes off the passing scenery. Jake had never seen you nervous, not like this. Even when the Daggers had to ship out for a short deployment and you had to watch them all take off from the carrier, you didn’t act like this. He watched you lean forward just a bit and your eyes narrowed and then it clicked. You weren’t watching the world go by—you were keeping an eye on the cars following the truck in the side view mirror. You were making sure Luke wouldn’t try to run you off the road again.

Jake looked in the rear view mirror and saw sedans, coupes, and a handful of SUVs, and a smaller number of trucks. But not a single black charger. It was clear for now. But you still picked at your cuticles and didn’t peel your eyes from the window.

Jake reached out and set a hand over yours, stilling your picking. You jumped under the touch and Jake curled his fingers over yours a little tighter, trying to anchor you to something else a little less destructive. “We’re okay, Punch, all right?”

You looked at him and Jake hated that he had to look at the road for safety purposes when you searched his face for something. “For now,” you said in return, once again turning to look out at the cars.

Jake squeezed your hand again and didn’t let go even as you muttered the next handful of directions to the restaurant. He awkwardly shifted into park and took the keys out of the ignition after finding a spot in the steadily filling lot. Your shoulders were slumped as you turned back to him, face unreadable except for the pinch between your brows that he wanted to smooth with a brush of his thumb.

(Maybe one day.)

“All right. We’re gonna go in there, eat our weight in overpriced waffles and then I’m going to take you home and double check your windows and locks. Okay?”

Your eyes swept up to look up at him and Jake felt that familiar warmth starting to unfurl in his chest. Your thumb swept over his knuckles but he wasn’t sure if you were aware you were even doing it. “I can’t afford to buy you your weight in waffles.”

Jake barked out a laugh and shook his head. “You’re not going to buy me brunch. Stop trying.” He had to bite back the pleased smile he felt growing when he heard your gasp after he raised your joined hands and pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“You are ridiculous.” Your voice was tight as it wheedled out from between your lips before you (slowly) pulled your hand from his and reached for the door handle. “C’mon. We need to get on the list.”

The air was tinged with the scent of sea salt and syrup as he followed you into the glass and metal building, already teeming with people. You were quick to give your name and group size to the hostess who said it would probably be a fifteen minute wait. Just as you turned to grab one of the oddly shaped bar stools near the door to it for your name to be called, Phoenix was striding in, too. She pushed her sunglasses up her hair before sweeping you into a hug with a loud kiss to your cheek. “I knew you’d beat me here.” Then her dark eyes dragged to Jake as he stood behind you. “Hangman. What’re you doing here?”

“He drove me,” you said. “I figured it would be fine.”

“Of course it is,” Phoenix said, waving it away but Jake knew the gleam in her eyes. She wasn’t quite finished. “You two arrived together?” She asked, eyes bouncing between you and Jake.

“Ken fixed my tires. Figured I could treat him to brunch as a thank you.”

Jake had to groan at that, knocking his hand into your hip and earring a halfhearted swat at his arm in retaliation. “I told you, you’re not paying for me.”

Phoenix hummed and anchored her gaze on Jake and he fought the urge to stand a little straighter. “Yeah. That was awful nice of him. When you told me that the neighbor kid slashed your tires, I thought Hangman would be a gentleman and drive you to the tire shop. Not fix them himself.”

Neighbor kid. You had lied to Phoenix? Granted, her text had just said that your tires had been slashed and that you’d needed help—it wasn’t exactly filled with details. Jake had assumed that she had known. But that didn’t matter now and he plastered his well-used smirk on his face. “Well, I’m a-”

“Don’t stroke your own ego, Bagman.” She then glanced at something over his shoulder and smiled. “Bob just got here. Bob!” She threw up a hand to grab the WSO’s attention and he jogged toward the group when he spotted her. He nearly collided with a waitress and they both apologized—profusely—before going their separate ways. By the time Bob reached their little group, his face was a vibrant and familiar shade of red.

“Nearly swept that pretty girl off her feet, Baby on Board.” Jake braced for the hit he knew was coming and winced when Phoenix’s fist collided with his arm.

The group was seated soon after and Jake had to bite back a grumble when Bob was the one to pull out your chair for you when you reached the table. When Jake went to do the same to Phoenix, she hit him again.

Bob was nearly the shade of a strawberry when he realized the woman he’d nearly bowled over would be your waitress and nearly dropped his silverware roll when he noticed her striding over to the table. Food was ordered—both you and Jake ordered waffles while Phoenix wanted to try the brioche French toast and Bob wanted eggs Benedict with steak—and mimosas (and pineapple juice for Bob) were poured as Phoenix regaled the table with her run-in with a guy at the gym on base. The Ensign hadn’t realized Phoenix a) outranked him and b) wasn’t interested in bulging muscles and whatever the younger man could(n’t) provide. The interaction ended when Phoenix “politely” challenged him to a friendly competition to see who could handle more weight while doing hip thrusters. Phoenix started out with thirty pounds more than him and he called her a dyke so she had him barred from the gym and probably had a meeting with his commanding officers on Monday, too.

You giggled and tipped your mimosa flute into Phoenix’s before you both took a sip. It was good to see you smile like that.

The waitress came by a few minutes later with the food and she was quick to divvy up the plates but Jake watched her make sure Bob’s was the last plate and she stood at his side and carefully set it down, making sure to bend down just enough to brush against his arm. “Careful, the plate is hot,” she practically purred.

(Phoenix quickly had Jake’s laugh turning into a poorly disguised cough when she sent him a look across the table.)

“I’ll be careful. I can handle it.”

Then the waitress actually giggled and stood straight, setting her hand on Bob’s shoulder for just a moment. “I’m sure you can. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” She then turned and walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips which Bob completely missed because he was busy unrolling his silverware.

The group watched him as he carefully cut into his meal and shoved a bite between his lips. He went to take another when he noticed the stares. “What?”

“Robert,” you started, voice strained to avoid a giggle. “She was flirting with you.”

His fork froze before it reached his mouth.”No, she wasn’t. She told me the plate was hot.”

Phoenix reached over and patted her back seater’s shoulder. “Oh, Bob.”

The other man’s blush returned and he shoved the bite between his lips. “How is telling me that the plate is hot flirting?”

Jake shook his head and fought a smile of his own. “Listen, do you like her?”

Bob chanced a glance at the waitress at the hostess booth and immediately ducked his head when she caught him and wagged her fingers at him with a wink. “She’s beautiful.”

“But?” Jake prodded, hearing a slight hesitation. He had always been good at reading people (you were an exception), and Jake had played therapist to a handful of the Daggers since he proved he could be someone other than Hangman. He wanted Bob to be happy.

“But I don’t know. She looks like she’d eat me alive.” He fiddled with his fork. “Can we talk about something else?”

Jake was the one who shifted the conversation to the insufferable group of Top Gun pilots that would thankfully be leaving soon enough. A friendly bet was placed on who everyone thought would actually get the trophy and Jake tried not to smile too much when Bob knocked his foot into his as a quiet thank you and you, seemingly unaware of Bob’s quiet gratitude, set your hand over Jake’s arm for a moment in your own show of appreciation. As soon as it happened, it was gone again.

That was okay. Jake was determined to have it happen again.

Brunch continued on and finished after another round of drinks and splitting a funnel cake that the waitress insisted they try. Jake was sure the woman pouted after not receiving Bob’s phone number when he signed his check but he wouldn’t mention it. Jake liked this strange bit of normalcy. With you. He even if both Bob and Phoenix made vague threats against his life if he hurt you. Jake was determined to have more of these moments with you. Even if you grumbled about Jake hustling to get to the truck before you so he could open your door.

The tension in the cab on the way to brunch was absent now and Jake didn’t even care when you teased him about his choice in radio stations—calling him a cliche for listening to early Tim McGraw. But you said it with a laugh and Jake had to laugh, too. He liked that it was you who brought up Bob and his interactions with the waitress.

“I want Bob to be happy. And he’s mentioned once or twice that he’d like to have a family.”

Jake thought for a moment before the perfect person popped into his thoughts. “I know a girl.”

“No, you don’t. I don’t trust your taste in women.”

And Jake had to laugh at that. Had to. You were his taste in women. But the person he had in mind for Bob would be perfect. “She’s a CPA. Wears glasses. And she only drinks ginger ale despite helping Penny with the Hard Deck’s taxes. And she’s the only person outside of Texas that I trust with my tax return.”

Your face scrunched and Jake knew you were thinking it over. “Just because they both wear glasses and have an affinity for Seagram’s doesn’t mean they’d be a good match.”

“Just trust me. It might take a minute to get her to look him in the eye-”

“She’s shy?”

“So shy. It’s adorable. And just what Baby on Board needs.”

You scowled at him but he knew you didn’t really mean it when you knocked your shoulder into his over the center console a moment later. He eventually pulled into your driveway and threw the truck into park before turning to you but you were scrambling out of your seat and up to your front door before he could even get a word in edgewise.

Oh.

Jake wasn’t sure if he’d ever been rejected as soundly as that before. But then he saw you waving him forward from your front stoop and Jake nearly clocked himself in the face with the seatbelt buckle as he hurried to follow you inside. He shut your door behind him, engaging just two out of the five locks as you hurried toward something just down the hall.

“Punch?”

“Just a moment!” You yelled in return.

Jake resisted the urge to settle on the couch again, like he’d done weeks ago. Everything seemed different now. You weren’t trying to push him away and he could hear you shuffling something in the other room and he was suddenly struck with a daydream of coming home to you, waiting for you to notice his presence and smiling when you saw him. “You’re home!” As soon as the vision came, it was gone, and Jake shook himself a little as if that would help him forget what he’d conjured up. What he’d wanted since the moment you first called him Ken, even if he never admitted it out loud.

You walked back into the living room and slapped something down onto the small table you had lining the back of your couch.

“Whatcha got there, Punch?”

Your answering smile was all teeth, like a cat who got the cream and Jake saw that it was a fifty dollar bill as it peeked from between your fingers. “Well, I added up how many miles it is from base, to my house, to the restaurant, then back to my house and then guessed on how many miles you get per gallon. And, you use premium gas, right? Either way, this should be enough for gas, but if you use diesel, this should cover it.” You slapped another fifty atop the first after pulling it from your back pocket.

Jake looked at the stack of cash and then back at you before he sighed, a long put-upon sigh that he knew was obnoxious but it was worth it when he heard you try to stifle a laugh. God. You were relentless.

“First, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you’re awful at math. Like, so bad.”

“Hey!”

“And second, I’m still not taking your money.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“I’m being a friend, Punch. Friends drive each other around and help them when they need it. And I’m willing to bet-“

“I’ll take that bet.”

Jake continued on, ignoring you, “-that you wouldn’t expect to be paid back if our places were switched.”

You pulled your lips into your mouth for a moment and drummed your fingers against the money. “I lost that bet. Guess you’ll have to take the money.”

Jake groaned but he could feel a laugh starting to bubble in his chest. “You’re impossible.”

It was too soon to call this a victory, but you were sure you were closing in on one. He would take the money and then you could pretend to feel fine about everything he’d done for you. Sure.

“Actually, I have something you could do if you’re so hellbent on paying me back.” Before you could ask what he meant, he was unlocking your door and jogging out to his truck and pulling something out, tucking it behind his back as he returned. “Can you sign this for me?”

Then he dropped a purple book in your hand and your stomach dropped to your feet as you looked at the gold lettering across the cover. “You snooped!” You said, too embarrassed to be angry. You held the book up to your chest as if that would guard you from his knowing look or the embarrassment starting to churn your stomach.

“You knew I would! Why’re you surprised?” His smile was back and he took a step toward you. You took a responding step back until he was crowding you against your bookshelf, hands landing on the shelves on either side of your shoulders. And it could have been a threatening stance, an unnerving cage, but all you felt was safe. Safe as he blotted out the rest of the world and it was just you and him and your books in the quiet of your home.

You should not feel like this, you knew that. It was stupid and dangerous and you couldn’t stop it. What had happened to your resolve that you had just yesterday for keeping him at arm's length?

Your fingers drummed against the paperback and you hurriedly flipped it open when your eyes tracked down to his mouth. Oh. “Should I sign it ‘To Ken?’ Or-”

“Could you actually sign it for my sister Mia? She reads your books in her book club.”

“Oh.” Was all you could say. That was…that was actually really nice to know. You knew people read your books; Danny had framed a newspaper clipping showing your second book reaching a top ten spot one of the Best Sellers lists and had gifted it to you for your last birthday. They were mildly popular, you knew that. But to actually be confronted with the fact that someone you vaguely knew was reading your books was something else. You reached back and grabbed one of the pens you kept in a cup on the shelf. “Mia? She’s your oldest sister, right?” A quick glance up at Jake had your heart twisting. His look was too soft. Too happy.

“Yeah, Punch. That’s her.”

You took the time to write your pseudonym with extra flair and then added a heart next to Mia’s name, too. “Is this for her birthday or anything?”

“She’s…” Jake paused for a moment. “She’s just going through a rough patch right now. Your books make her smile.”

The pen stalled on the page for just a moment before you shoved at his chest to get him to back up just enough to grab at your ARC for your newest book and quickly scrawled, Wishing you expensive champagne and good memories! Happy reading! You then signed your name again and added a half dozen hearts next to Mia’s name at the top of the page. You slapped both books against Jake’s chest with a frown. “That book hasn’t been released yet, so I may get in a bit of trouble with my publisher if she tells anyone.”

Jake’s hands covered yours on the books and the toe of his shoe knocked into your socked feet as he moved closer, dragging your attention back to his stupidly handsome face again. “She won’t tell anyone but I know I’ll probably get an earful about how I got them.” His thumbs brushed against your knuckles and you would swear that you could feel it behind your ribs. “Where’d you get that name anyway?”

You almost snorted at the way he phrased that question, like you found it on the side of a cereal box. “My parents were obsessed with Stephen King—they actually met at a book club specifically for King’s books. My sister, Georgie, was named after the kid who got their arm ripped off at the beginning of It. And my brother, Danny, is named after the kid in The Shining, Danny Torrance.”

“And you? I don’t think I’ve read your name in his books.”

It was a fair enough question. King had dozens of books and Jake didn’t seem like the type to clamor for the newest release. “I was named by my grandparents after they discovered the reasoning behind my sister’s name. If my parents wanted to stay in the will, I had to have a name they picked. Of course, when my brother was born, my parents picked something a little more innocuous so they wouldn’t rock the boat again. But, anyway, to actually answer your question; I took my siblings’ names as a sort of thank you to them. Georgie became Georgia and I took Danny’s literary counterpart’s last name. And Georgia Torrance was born. I wrote most of my books when I had downtime on deployments. I took a chance and sent it off to an agent and I got a nice contract with a moderately respectable publishing house. It isn’t Stephen King money by any means, but I can upgrade my plane ticket to Business Class if I wanted to once or twice a year.”

“Your parents must’ve gotten a kick out of that.”

You tried to fight the sigh you felt growing in your throat but lost. You also lost the wherewithal to keep a single secret from him. “I don’t know. I don’t really talk to them.”

“What?”

“After Danny got sick, all of their attention was on him, which I understand. I do. But I was still just a kid who needed her parents every once in a while. But it was like I ceased to exist to them until they remembered I could help with the hospital bills. Georgie was already out of the house and getting her degree and would call but it wasn’t the same. I kinda gave up on having a relationship with my parents after they forgot about my rowing meet and I waited to be picked up for three hours before eventually just walking home.”

“Punch-”

And once you started, you couldn’t stop, like a can of pop shaken and bursting. “Danny was hooked up to like six different machines and was high off his ass and he apologized for all the…all the bullshit. I told him it was unnecessary. He was sick. I’m just happy he’s healthy again.”

God. You really knew how to ruin every moment, didn’t you?

Jake set the books on the shelf just beside your shoulder but was quick to lean over you again and you hated how Jake really was a certifiable blueprint for a romantic literary hero. You could write a single description of him in your next book and you’d know it would skyrocket to the top of the Best Sellers lists but you had been actively avoiding trying to piece together a story from your life. And, as if he knew you were debating something, the bastard actually propped his other arm up on the bookcase and leaned over you. Oh god. He was doing the lean and was going to ask you something about your fucked up childhood.

Shit.

Alarm bells were ringing in your head, letting you know that this moment could be disastrous. So, you decided to not let it go on any longer. “Jesus. Sorry. I really know how to kill a good time, huh? I think I’ve taken up quite enough of your time for the day. Let me know what Mia thinks of the books, okay?”

You ducked beneath his arm, intent on leading him to the door, but Jake grasped your hand and pulled you to a stop. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that again. Don’t shut me out. I’m happy you feel like you can tell me stuff like that, that you’re comfortable enough to trust me with that. Don’t pull away again. Not from me.”

You knew that if you looked at him right now, his green eyes would be wide and pleading. So, you just didn’t look. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now. I don’t know why you’re doing this, Jake.”

“Doing what?” He asked softly, as softly as his hand on yours.

“Buying me tires? Driving me around? Being…being this fucking nice to me all the time when I’ve only been a dick to you?” You asked as you felt your chin wobble. “Why?”

Jake was quiet for a moment. Just a moment. “You know why.”

“No! No, I don’t because…” You couldn’t finish the sentence because then it was real, it would be real and you didn’t know how to deal with that again. You looked up at him and tried to remember what you were protecting him from. Pulling your hand out of his, you set your hands on your hips. “Because you can’t.”

Jake’s shoulders rolled before his lips set in a thin line. “I do. And I know you feel the same.”

You scoffed and tried to ignore the warmth in your chest that he was right. He felt the same. Wouldn’t that just be the worst? “You really think that highly of yourself? You’re so sure that I-”

Jake leaned closer and the rest of your argument stalled. You could smell the mint on his breath from the stupid toothpick he was chewing on in the truck just beneath the warmth of his cologne. God. He was intoxicating. You almost hated him for a moment because every ounce of fight you had drained out of you. “Ken.”

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He moved closer. Closer. Closer.

His warm hand skirted up your arm until it settled against the gentle arc of muscle between your neck and shoulder and the other settled on your hip. You could feel each of his fingers pressing into your skin like a brand. Every breath he took brushed against your mouth and you licked your lips without a thought as he leaned even closer.

“Last chance.” You could feel his smile against your mouth, growing with each syllable.

And you had to smile. Had to because he was your Ken and this felt inevitable. Jake was inevitable. “Do your worst.”

He kissed you and it was instantly all consuming. Surely, he could feel your smile, too. You actually laughed against his mouth as your hands pressed against his chest. Jake pulled back just enough for you to see his smile before he kissed you again, catching your bottom lip between his and tugging to have you gasping. His stupid, perfect teeth nipped at the skin and he was quick to soothe the sting with a flick of his tongue.

Then you were moving backward, guided by his gentle movements, until your spine went flat against the wall beside your bookshelves. The kiss was all smiling lips and searching tongues as Jake held you tight. Everything was warm and tinged with the mint on his tongue and Jake Jake Jake.

His thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw and he sighed against your panting mouth. “So fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and you could feel it curling in your stomach.

But your entire body seized when you felt his hand move to wrap around your throat as his mouth continued to work against yours. You couldn’t help it; you flinched. The kiss ended abruptly as you pulled back despite you not wanting it to end. But it couldn’t be helped. Not yet. You watched an array of emotions flash across Jake’s face before it settled on despair.

“Fuck.” The single syllable was wrenched from his throat as he took a step back and his hands fell back to his sides and left you cold. “Fuck, Punch, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I-”

“W-wait…I just…” How could you even phrase this without sounding unhinged? “I just need a moment.” Your next breath rattled in your lungs but you still reached for his hand and raised it again, moving it just enough for his fingers to encircle your throat once more. The roughened planes and angles of his hand had you shivering but you managed to drag your eyes up to his and tried to not show how nervous you actually felt. “It… you can, if you want. I’d actually prefer to have some good memories of something like this instead of-”

The rest of your rambling was cut off as his lips pressed against yours. The grip on your throat grew a little more insistent, a little heavier, but nothing stronger than just a simple weight, an anchor at your pulse. His other hand smoothed up your arm to curl over your cheek just as he pried your lips apart, delving into your mouth to steal the building whine from your throat.

Your heart hammered behind your ribs as you felt the warmth of Jake’s hand bleed through your shirt as his palm brushed the side of your chest. He moved forward and your legs instinctively parted to accommodate the thigh he was shoving between yours and your next breath caught in your throat when the denim brushed against the crux of your thighs.

“Fuck,” you hissed when Jake’s lips seared a path across your cheek and down your throat to bite at your thrumming pulse. You hadn’t even remembered when your hands had dropped to wrinkle his shirt again but you still pulled him closer as every nerve ending sparked. And then-

“Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!”

Immediately, you pulled away from Jake with a grimace as ABBA’s song continued to fill the air. “Oh Jesus, that’s Natasha’s ringtone. She never calls.” You ducked beneath his arm for the second time tonight and pulled your phone off its perch on the kitchen counter and answered it as you heard Jake sigh. Turning to look at him, you saw his head drop to his chest for a moment before standing straight again and following in your footsteps toward the kitchen.

“I asked Rooster out and I think he thinks it is just as a friends thing and I want to bash my head against the wall.” Tasha screeched, words running together in a rush. She continued on, explaining that somehow she and Bradley had been roped into helping Penny restock the Hard Deck before opening today and Natasha had (finally) acted on her (reciprocated) feelings after Rooster had been his usually flirty self the entire time and then dragged Natasha to the piano and made her sing along to Elton John’s Your Song. Jesus.

You looked over at Jake to see him looking at you with another soft look on his face and a bit of pink in his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him.

He waved it away before stealing a quick kiss, too, that had your heart rate picking up again.

“Punch? You there?”

You pushed out a breath and shook your head as you pressed a hand to Jake’s chin, keeping him from doing it again. You could feel his self satisfied smirk against your fingers. “Yeah. I’m here. And, um, I don’t know. I think you’d be surprised with Bradley. He’s probably picking out his nicest Hawaiian shirt in preparation.”

Tasha groaned but you had to smile because Jake nipped at your fingers. “You think?”

“I do. It is gonna be great. I know it.”

She sighed, crackling the line, but eventually agreed. “He can’t be that oblivious right?” She asked, making you both laugh. “Also, don’t think I’m forgetting about you and Hangman coming to brunch together. We’re gonna talk on Monday.”

“You don’t forget anything, Tasha. I’m well aware.”

You eventually said your goodbyes after promising her you would talk to her on Monday and then dropped your phone on the counter again and your hand from Jake’s mouth.

“I never thought you’d be a tease.” His tone let you know he was joking but you also could have guessed with the smirk pushing at his mouth, too.

Your jaw dropped for a moment before an embarrassed giggle rippled out of you. “I said I was sorry! I was worried!” Biting your lip as you looked at him, you shook your head. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“It was quite the moment, huh?” His smirk had fallen to a soft smile despite his self assured words.

“Yeah, it was.” You didn’t even want to tease him now but then a small voice whispered at the back of your mind that it wasn’t a moment to him. After all, who would want-

“Steak or seafood?” He asked, knocking the rest of your thoughts right out of your head.

“What?”

“I have a list of restaurants that I want to take you to, if you’re willing to let me pay and bring you flowers.” The usual bravado that bled through all of his words wavered now. Was he nervous?

“Sounds like you’re asking me out on a date, Ken.”

“I’m trying here, Punch. So? Steak or seafood.”

Hope and happiness were blooming and twisting and growing within the confines of your ribs now. He wanted to take you out on a date. “I’m allergic to shellfish,” was all you could say through your smile.

“Steak it is. I’ll update my list when I get home.” He reached out and swept his thumb across the slope of your cheek and you found yourself leaning into the touch a little more. Jake seemed content to just hold your face in his hand for a moment before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I should go. I want to do this right with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to wine and dine you, darlin’. Want to earn those lips of yours again,” he said as his thumb moved to press at the heated skin of your bottom lip. “You deserve it. And I want to be the one to give it to you.”

For just a moment, you worried that Jake would hear how hard your heart was beating. No one had ever said anything like that to you before. “Oh.”

This was different. Jake was different. You just had to give him permission to show you.

“I’d like that.”

He smiled and stepped back, hand dropping back to his side. “You’re a good friend to Phoenix, by the way. Bradshaw, too.”

You smiled again. “They’re good to me. All of you have been.” Slowly, you herded him toward the door, knowing he had a plan.

He stopped at the door, just after you undid the locks. “Does Phoenix know?”

You shook your head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “It’s hard enough to be taken seriously in the Navy as a woman. She had her own battles, Luke was mine. I always thought she was so strong and, for a while, I thought she’d just see me as weak if she knew what I’d put up with. But I know now that is an unfair thought. Tasha is and always has been one of my best friends and staunchest supporters. I should tell her, right? And maybe I will, after all of this is over. I don’t…I don’t want anyone else I care about to be wrapped up in this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” And you tried to ignore the sinking feeling that you had once again put Jake in Luke’s crosshairs.

But this time had to be different. It had to be.

Jake shook his head and cupped his hands at the back of your head before touching his forehead to yours. “We’re going to finish this, okay? We will.”

You nodded and smiled despite it all when he pressed another quick kiss to your forehead—it was like he couldn’t stop kissing you. And you weren’t about to complain. “Get home safe, Ken.”

You watched him get into his truck and waved as he pulled out and you knew he was telling you to lock your doors through the windshield. Your phone rang again just as he disappeared down the road and you knew by the way Jerry Lewis blared that it was now Bradley calling.

It had only been two days since Jake kissed you and had promised you a date. Two days and it was like the entirety of Top Gun was trying to keep you apart. You barely saw each other after he got roped into helping Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson into looking over the files of the next hopeful batch of aviators who could be called to San Diego. But it was fine. Sure. It wasn’t as if you could walk in holding his hand; you were still in the Navy and there were still protocols and rules you needed to follow. You had a feeling you and Jake would be breaking a lot of them.

You were kept busy with repairing Harvard’s jet after he managed to land safely after a bird strike. Your lunch breaks and evenings were spent talking to either Natasha or Bradley about their upcoming date-not-date while not revealing that you knew what the other was thinking. You did, however, mention to Bradley that Rueben and Mickey had started a betting pool about how long it would take Bradley to admit who he was in love with after Mickey spotted him with a pad of paper during lunch which was apparently filled with a speech about loving someone for years. You then spent the next hour workshopping the speech he was going to say to Natasha. It was beautiful and heartfelt and filled with analogies you tried to trim down (gently). He was still, annoyingly, assuming that their dinner on Wednesday was not a date in Natasha’s eyes but he was still going to try to confess his feelings and hope for the best.

You knew he’d be over the moon with how Natasha would react.

As Wednesday bled into Thursday, you were nearly dead on your feet but you’d been watching Natasha and Bradley all day, trying to decipher how their date had gone by their body language. You drove home that night without many answers but your phone rang just before you pulled down your street and quickly answered when Natsha’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hello?”

“He said he’s in love with me!”

“Hello, Tasha. How are you? I’ve had a great day. How was yours?”

“Oh, shut up!” She laughed. “I’m freaking out! He said he was in love with me—has been for years, apparently—and all I did was kiss him afterward. That’s not fair, right? I also need to have a speech. I can’t let him win this. I want to do a PowerPoint.” You had to mute your phone at that so she wouldn’t hear you snort. Everything was a competition. “Do you have that picture of me and him from Mav’s birthday last year?”

“I do,” you said, knowing exactly which one she was referencing. It was of Bradley and Natasha at the piano. Bradley had just led everyone through a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for Mav and there was still a flush on his cheeks. Natasha was right next to him in a stunning blue dress and smiling at him. It was the picture you promised to yourself that you would show at their wedding. You rushed inside, pinning the phone between your ear and shoulder and hurriedly shut the door behind you before darting toward your bedroom without bothering to turn on any of the lights—you said you’d drop it off at her apartment as soon as you’d found it. You were going to be in and out. You flopped onto your stomach, overturning the small mountain of pillows you had at the headboard, before grabbing at the storage container beneath the bed frame. You hauled it up and onto the bed and flipped the lid. To your chagrin, your “filing” system was essentially nonexistent when it came to photos and you started to sift through them as Natasha continued to talk, telling you about the date she’d planned and laughing about how much Bradley had stumbled over his speech.

God, it was so nice just to hear her laugh. They were going to be happy together. You knew it.

A door opened and closed slowly in the distance—your neighbor must’ve finally sprayed his door with WD-40 because it didn’t creak. Good. It only took him three years. But your heart nearly stopped when you heard your neighbor’s door open a few seconds later and its distinctive creak filled the night air. Something thumped down the hall and your spine went rigidly straight, still holding the phone to your ear as blood roared in your ears. You hadn’t locked the door. You had been inside for less than five minutes and you hadn’t thought it was necessary–you would have been leaving again soon anyway.

But you should have taken the time. A careless, stupid mistake.

The noise came again and sat up on bed, spilling the pictures in your hold onto your blankets. “Punch?” Natasha asked, pulling your focus. “You still there?”

“I…I think there’s someone in my house,” you whispered. Every part of your body was telling you to run. Right now. But where could you? Your house had one door and the person was in your living room.

Natasha was quiet for just a moment before whispering, “I’m gonna call the cops, okay? You hide.”

“N-no,” you hissed. “Don’t hang up. Stay with me.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll stay on the line with you, but-”

The line went dead with three terrible beeps and you wrenched the phone away from your ear to see ‘Call Lost - Try Again?’ written across the screen. No matter how many times you tried to call or text, nothing went through. The little icon at the top where you usually saw the lines denoting your network was now just a terrible X. The network was either down or whoever had come into your house had turned on a jammer. And you knew which was more plausible—but god, you had never wished for a network outage more.

Slowly, you slid off the bed and into the hall just as you heard the distinctive sound of a boot hitting the corner of your coffee table. Someone was in your house.

Mia had loved the books. Apparently her book club had ooh’d and ahh’d over the signed book but she had, as Jake knew she would, kept the copy of your newest book a secret but had rattled off her opinions to Jake. “And I can’t believe you know her!” She squawked on the other end of the line. It had been so good to hear the smile in his sister’s voice again. It was priceless. Jake had also evaded any questions as to who you were–it wasn’t his secret to tell–but he hoped that you’d be the one to tell Mia sooner rather than later.

It had been a good day. For the most part, anyway. He would have preferred to have had more than just a small smile and wave from you for the last few days, but he could be patient.

When Jake’s phone chirped with a new message, he’d expected something from Javy, keeping him up to date about the conversation he was hoping to have with his girlfriend’s father. The ring Jake had helped Javy pick out was burning a hole in his pocket and Jake hoped that his best friend would be able to plan a cool as fuck bachelor party and then make sure the whole wedding goes smoothly.

And maybe he could ask you to be his date. He could dance with you and make you smile and-

Any happy thought he had evaporated when he looked at his phone.

Someone broke into Punch’s house! I’m calling the cops!

Jake was in his truck before he could even think to type out a response and sped toward your house as the group chat started to explode with a barrage of texts he didn’t read. He knew who had broken in. There was only one possible answer.

Jake just hoped he’d get there in time.

You needed to get out of the house…or at least get to something you could use as a weapon. The baseball bat you kept near the bookshelves could work, right? Slipping further down the hall, you tried to tell yourself that you could get out of this.

Creak.

You clapped a hand over your mouth as you pressed your spine to the wall, trying to quiet your breathing.

Step.

He was in your kitchen. You knew the sound of hard soled shoes on the uneven tiles. Could you make a run for it? Could you trap him in the laundry room? That had to be your only option. You turned the corner into your living room and your stomach fell to your feet.

Luke was standing in your kitchen. Knife in hand. Waiting for you. He looked almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. His brown hair was still cropped short. His brown eyes were still narrowed and cold. His clothes were rumpled designer brands. He hadn’t changed. And that was terrifying.

You dove for the baseball bat, curling your hands around it before you turned and swung blindly. The bat cracked against his arm and Luke yelled, low and guttural as he staggered backward for a moment. But then he was lunging forward and grasping at the bat to wrench it out of your hands. He threw it across the living room and it smacked against the wall, shattering the glass in two frames before knocking them to the floor with a terrible crack. You couldn’t go for it again. There was no way past him now.

You should have aimed for his head.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”

You cringed at the nickname but didn’t take your eyes off the knife in his hand.

Luke didn’t wait for an answer to his question before barreling on. “And look what you’ve done. Got all those nice pins on your shirt, moving up in the ranks, and…” he paused as a smirk slithered across this mouth, “you got my dad’s money. A nice little nest egg.You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you? And you didn’t have to work for any of it.”

He took a step forward and you took one back, ankle colliding with your coffee table.

“And what about me? I’m so glad you asked!” He snarled. “I’ve been dishonorably discharged. And you want to know why?”

“I had nothing to do with that, Luke. W-we had an agreement, remember? I keep my mouth shut and you…you were supposed to stay away from me.”

Luke’s tongue clicked against his teeth before he waved the knife. “You had everything to do with it. That LoA in my file was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I could’ve been given another chance if you had just kept your mouth shut when I told you to back in the-“

“I didn’t say anything. You were going to get Bradley killed!” The words bubbled out of you before you could think of the repercussions.

Luke was on you in a flash. The tip of the knife pressed over your sternum and you could feel it with each labored breath you sucked in between clenched teeth.

“He would’ve been fine! I know how to do my job! You ruined everything and then took my dad's money!” The knife pressed closer closer closer. It started to tear through the thin material of your shirt and shallowly cut your skin. The whimper you felt blooming in your throat died when you saw the gleam in Luke’s eyes.

Before you could even stop to think of an alternative, you threw your hands up and caught the knife. The edge sank through the delicate skin between your fingers and into your palm but you didn’t recoil. Couldn’t. You were only able to drag the knife down, the tip cutting against the skin just above your stomach.

Fresh pain bloomed across your face and it took you a moment to realize that Luke had slapped you. And then he did it again, making sure to send your head flying backward to slam into the wall hard enough and have stars dancing in front of your eyes. Your grip almost fell, loosening a fraction, and just for a moment everything was silent.

Just a moment.

You’d never be able to describe the pain that bloomed as Luke moved and drove the knife in, slotting it between your ribs and twisting with a vicious flick of his wrist. Your next breath stalled just behind your tongue as every nerve ending exploded with heat and teeth and a terrible popping sensation bubbled beneath your skin. “L-Luke…”

He pushed the knife deeper as he pressed his cheek to yours in an echo of the hugs he used to give you. “I used to miss you, you know. Did you miss me? I treated you so well. I was good to you. So good. I gave you everything.” The knife rocked back and forth and you felt the ridge of it with each movement. You felt all of it. Your grip faltered against the knife gain but you knew you couldn’t drop your hold.

He would kill you.

“And you had to ruin it. You ruined my life.”

“L-Luke…”

“I need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me you know what you did. You had this coming. All of it.”

“I didn’t,” you wheezed. Your chest was collapsing in on itself like you had a boar sitting on your sternum.

“Say it! You don’t get to play victim this time. You were the one who ruined my life.”

“You were a d-drunk! I did all that work for you until you told me you’d kill me if I made you l-look bad again!” Each word was a crack against your ribs, sharp and biting, but you couldn’t stop. This would be your only chance to say this, you knew it. If you were going to die tonight, you were going to let him know what you really thought of him. “You…” You sucked in a breath that only served to make you ache. “You only got through basic because your daddy bribed someone. You only got into the Navy at all because he made a phone call to someone after you failed the ASVAB. You…you fail at everything you do. You were a shitty AD. And you couldn’t kill me.” Blood dribbled out of your mouth and you felt it slid down your chin. “Twice. So you better make this count.”

Luke’s teeth glinted in the low light and he ripped the knife out only to plunge it back in. You felt the blade scrape against the edge of your hip as you let out a scream that fizzled out to a gurgle as more blood filled your mouth.

“I’ll make it count!” Luke seethed as he drove the knife deeper and pushed you into the wall.

Everything burned. Everything ached. And all you could do was scream as your knees knocked together, strength dribbling out of you with each frantic pulse of your heart.

Luke leaned forward to press his forehead against yours and the knife twisted. “Do you feel it, baby? Do you feel me inside you?” His breath smelled of the expensive cognac you knew he liked to guzzle and rolled your stomach.

“Luke.” You didn’t want to die looking into his eyes. You didn’t want to die at all, but you weren’t going to have your last earthly memory be of Luke and his cold eyes, so you shut your eyes as the tips of your fingers started to tingle.

The screech of a siren broke through the haze of your mind. You had to laugh but that, too, was cut short when Luke pulled the knife out and rushed toward the window to see the night sky filled with red and blue lights. You crumpled. Your hands slapped against the floor for just a moment before you slumped in a heap against the carpet as your arms gave out.

You vaguely heard your front door slam against the wall and knock another picture from its perch. There was an answering sound of glass shattering before warm, rough hands gently grasped at your shoulders. You struggled for just a moment when your scrambled brain thought Luke had come back to make sure you were dead. Unfocused eyes barely registered Jake kneeling above you.

“Punch? Punch, c’mon darlin’. There you are.” His voice was muffled but you felt yourself smiling anyway as everything started to prickle like you’d pinned your limbs beneath your weight for too long. The smile quickly died when Jake’s hands clamped down over your wounds and a surprised yelp punched out from between your teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I gotta stop the bleeding.”

“I-it hurts.”

“I know. I know it does. But it’ll only hurt a little longer, all right? You gotta stay awake for me. The cops are almost here.” His grip tightened. “We’ll get you fixed up and-”

“Where’s…Luke?” Was he still in your house? Would he hurt Jake?

“I don’t know, darlin’. He’s gone. We’ll find him, okay? We’ll find him and he’ll never do this to you again. But I need you to stay awake.”

Black dots were pushing their way into your line of sight, blotting out Jake’s worried face. “Ken…Jake…I wanted to get steak with you.”

Jake pressed harder and you could only whimper. “We will go get that steak. It’ll be the best date.” His voice was muffled, like you had shoved your head under water. And you struggled to hear him at all.

“Promise?” You asked, blood on your teeth.

“I promise.”

You smiled, despite it all. And then you were gone.

#Jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #tgm #female reader

641 notes · View notes

justagirlwholikesadam · 7 months

Text

The American: Visiting the Dursley

Remus Lupin x American! Fem! Reader

Summary: Sirius slips out a name that Harry has never heard of before. He wants to get to the bottom of it and wants to know who is this so called, Yankee.

A/n: I had comments on people telling me to continue this story. Here's chapter 2. I want to start off saying, I haven't read the books. I have seen the movies and I'm doing a bit of searching here and there but I'm making stuff up as we go so my plot can work. With that being said, don't come for me. Not sure how many chapters I'll be doing, really depends on the feedback. please read the tags before reading. Enjoy -L

Warning: mention of rape, breaking and entering, ANGST, MAJOR ANGST, weapon, reader has it rough, threats being made, mention of killing bad people, drunk Sirius, sad childhood, mention of child abuse, reader has a temper and bad childhood, NSFW, smut is here duhh we are with Remus

WORD COUNT: 10.7k

Chapter 2: Visiting the Dursleys

Stepping out of the grimmauld place, you walked beside Harry, down the steps asking him what kind of food he likes. Harry felt dumb for getting excited over a simple question. When was the last time someone asked him a simple question, he can’t recall. A question that didn’t have to do anything with the war or with magic. He hears Remus and Sirius behind him, shutting the front door. He was excited, he was going to spend time with his aunt and uncles. He was going to spend time with his family.

“I have a place in mind.” You told him with a smile as you stood by him waiting for Remus and Sirius.

“It’s a bit far so I’ll do the apparition.” You told the three of them. Remus held your hand as you grabbed a hold of Harry’s hand. Sirius held Remus and Harry’s hand, forming a circle. Harry watched as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your magic was something he could feel, it vibrated off of you.

In a flash, Harry dropped your hand and turned to see you had apparated them in the middle of an alley.

“Come on, Harry.” You said signaling him to follow you.

Sirius smiled to himself as he saw Harry’s eyes grow wide when they walked out of the alley to the busy street. Harry took in the crowds of people and the different colored signs around the streets. He had never seen this street before, the air was different as well. It looked too busy to be the streets of London. He passed by a hot dog stand and noticed people using flip phones while waiting to cross the street. Harry looked ahead to see Remus and you holding hands walking, Harry grinned when he saw you speaking with Remus who looked over at you with a smile. He hasn’t seen his ex professor smile so much before. Remus' eyes were lit up and a wide toothy smile was on his face.

Crossing the streets, Harry feels Sirius nudge his shoulder and points at a mime standing by the corner doing tricks. Harry hears you call for him and he quickly walks up to you. Remus walks ahead of you and opens the door of a restaurant. Harry looks up the red neon sign on top of the glass door, Lucky’s Joint. The atmosphere was cool and reserved. There were a few people drinking while watching a game on the TV above the bar. Others were smoking in the corner while others were enjoying their drinks and food.

Harry looked ahead when someone called out your name. He saw you smile as you opened your arms for an elderly man who welcomed you. You hugged the old man, patting his back.

“Oh my! Remus!” The older man walked towards Remus giving him a hug. Remus patted him on the back as well.

“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Lincoln.” Remus said as he pulled away.

“It’s been far too long.” Lincoln told Remus and you, grabbing Remus’ hand and yours. Harry can see both of you meant something to Lincoln. The older man had white short hair and was shorter than Harry. He had a plump frame and wore dark dress pants with a blue button down shirt.

“I want you to meet my brother, Sirius.” You said looking over at Sirius who was curious about this old man. Sirius shook hands with Lincoln, who raised his white bushy eyebrows in surprise.

“And this is, my nephew, Harry.” You look over at him. Harry tried his best to blink the tears away. You called him, your nephew.

“Brother? Nephew?” Lincoln asked in a shock tone.

“Yes. They live out of the country. They came to visit.” Remus said, looking over at Sirius and Harry, giving them a wink to play along.

“Just here for a bit. Vacationing with my son.” Sirius told Lincoln, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“That’s fantastic. Enjoy your vacation. Now come. I’ll show you to your usual booth.” The booth was all the way in the back, giving them some privacy.

“He has no idea?” Sirius asked and Remus shook his head while a waitress came and dropped some menus on the table before walking away.

“He’s a kind hearted muggle. Yank and I have been coming here for years.” Remus said while removing his coat before sitting by the wall.

Harry sat down across from you next to Sirius. Harry froze when he saw you taking your coat off and saw a hostler attached to your hip. Sitting down, Remus passed a menu to you. Looking up to see Harry, he quickly glanced away from you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked and Harry shyly looked at you.

“You have a gun.” Harry whispered and you just smiled at his reaction. “I do. Every auror who does special missions in the states carries one.” You answered him.

“You shoot Death Eaters with it?” You nodded. Harry looked a bit nervous so you took your gun out and took the magazine of the gun out. Pulling a bullet out you showed it to Harry.

“This gun is just like any other gun. The difference is the bullets. The bullets contain a spell.” Harry's eyes widen as you hold it out in front of him.

“This gun contains immobulus in each bullet. We use the gun when we don’t have our wand. The gun is our last resort and yes, to answer your question. I have used it. It saved my life many times before.”

Harry grabs the bullet from your hand and looks at it. He stared at the bullet, the silver bullet shines and he sees the word of the spell engraved on the bullet. He holds it to Sirius who was equally curious about it as well.

“What if it kills them?” Harry asked. “If you shoot them in the head or the heart then yes. It will kill them. We were taught to shoot them in the non-vital parts of their body until the authorities come and get them.”

“But sometimes you have to shoot them down.” Your voice gets low and Harry notices the look on Remus' face.

“Why am I not surprised that our Yankee has a gun.” Sirius said, making you chuckle as he passed the bullet to Harry.

“I was just as surprised as you when they introduced me to it but it’s America, what do you expect? They love their guns.” You said as Harry gave you the bullet back.

“You knew about this?” Remus nods at Sirius as you put the gun away.

“Well, of course. I’m her husband. She taught me how to shoot the damn thing.” Sirius’ mouth dropped, not believing that shy and quiet Remus knows how to shoot a gun.

“Nearly fell back when I shot it but I got the hang of it.” Remus said, looking over at you.

“We have lots of catching up to do.” Sirius said, making you nod.

“That we do. Harry, let me just say you look like James but your eyes are your mothers.” Harry smiled at you.

“You really do.” Remus said as he grabbed your hand under the table while Sirius told Harry about James going on and on about Lily’s eyes when they were in school.

Ordering the food and the drinks, Harry’s face hurt from all the smiling and laughter he was doing. You were a breath of fresh air to him. He thinks it’s because you treated him like an adult. You didn’t sugar coat things when Harry asked about Voldemort and stories about his parents. Harry listened attentively to every word you said during dinner. He can see the admiration in Remus’ eyes when you spoke about your job in the states.

“You said only aurors who do special missions have a gun?” You nod at Harry’s question.

“What kind?” You wiped your fingers with a napkin before answering.

“Many missions that required protecting items or people. Sometimes very rich muggles, sometimes wizards or sometimes creatures. Others and I sometimes go out to look out for Death Eaters who have escaped the first war. That’s how we found out that he had been planning on using mind control on the muggles.”

“He’s been planning other things, Harry.” You said softly. “He thinks he will win this time around. He has already started making plans once he defeats us, not to take over London but to rule over everything.”

“He won’t win.” Remus’ voice was firm and strong.

“He won’t.” You agreed with your husband.

“That’s right.” Sirius commented before looking over at his godson. “We are here with you, Harry. You are not alone anymore. We are going to stop him once and for all.”

Harry bites the inside of his cheek to not cry. Harry had Ron and Hermione with him, but it wasn’t the same thing being with Remus, Sirius and you. Ron and Hermione were teens just like him. The three of them had no experience with dealing with war. You reach out your hand across the table to touch Harry’s hand when he doesn't respond right away to Sirius. Harry’s hand is so soft compared to yours and you hope he didn’t reject you. You were relieved when Harry grabbed a hold of it. His eyes looked down at your hand, to him your hands were like Sirius and Moody. You had light scars over your knuckles and he rubbed his thumb over the golden wedding band on your ring finger. You frown when Harry’s eyes begin to fill up with tears when you feel him rub a scar on your knuckles. Harry lets out a whimper when he remembers Cedric’ having a familiar scar like yours on his hand. He remembers because he was holding on to Cedric’s hand for dear life when bringing his dead body back home.

“I just don’t want any of you to end up like Cedric because of me.” Harry whispered and Sirius was quick to pull him next to him. Sirius wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

“No need to cry, my dear boy.” Sirius told him softly as Remus grabbed a few napkins from the table sliding them over to Sirius. Harry still held your hand as you moved his plate away giving you space.

“Harry.” Remus calls for him over the table. Remus’ heart breaks when Harry looks over at him with teary eyes. He swore that he saw Lily for a second but shook his head to continue.

“You do know, Cedric’s death was not on you.” Harry was quick to shake his head.

“Listen to me.” Remus said. “It was not your fault. No one knew he was going to be there. No one knew that he was coming back at that moment. Cedric knew the risk when entering the tournament as well. Peter was the one that killed him. Not you. Peter.”

“He’s right, my sweet boy.” You said to Harry. You gave him a gentle squeeze on his hand.

“What happened to Cedric was horrible. You shouldn’t have to experience that but Remus is right. This was not on you. I don’t want to lie to you, Harry. Yes, we may die, we may die tomorrow, in two days, in a year or we may die during the war but I can say this about the three of us.” You looked at Sirius and Remus then back at Harry.

“Risking our lives for the greater good and to protect you is worth losing our life. We will help you defeat him.” Harry sniffed as Sirius kissed the top of his head.

“You are not alone. We are here now.” Sirius whispered to Harry as you grabbed Remus with your other hand, the table stood quiet for a few moments.

“Do you remember when James and you showed me how to ride a broomstick?” You asked Sirius trying to lighten up the mood, Harry seemed to calm down when he heard your question. Sirius lets out a chuckle before Remus does the same.

“Oh Merlin! We tried to convince your aunt to join the quidditch team.” Sirius said, looking at Harry before grinning at you.

“What was the first thing you said?” Sirius asked, making you roll your eyes when you realize what you had just done.

“Do we have to wear those witches hats to start the broom?!” Remus answered in a high pitched voice making you gasp as Sirius and he started to laugh.

“I didn’t know, okay! I thought it activated the broom. Back home all the witches had those hats on when riding the broom.” You tried to speak over Remus and Sirius’ laughter. You shook your head and looked over at Harry who was smiling again.

“Your mother yelled at your father for laughing at her and made him wear a witches hat for the entire lesson.” Remus told Harry before looking at Sirius.

“Let’s just say I did not play Quidditch after that.” You said releasing your hand from Harry.

“You didn’t like it?” Harry asked as you pushed his plate in front of him.

“To be honest, flying around and throwing balls was not my cup of tea but watching Sirius and James fly was something out of this world. I’ll never forget the time I saw it, I kept thinking to myself that this was just a dream.”

Sirius continues to lighten up the mood by telling Harry about a quidditch story from the old days. Remus and you just watched happily as Sirius talked with Harry. Harry needed this, needed time together with his godfather. Time with his family, Remus and you both knew Sirius needed this time with Harry as well. Both of you can see how Sirius looks at Harry, it was the same way he looked at James all those years. James was there at a time when Sirius had nobody, no money and no home. James and Lily’s death had broken Sirius into pieces.

Remus squeezed your hand under the table before bringing it over his lap.

You look over at Harry who was finishing with his burger and fries as Sirius spoke. You stared at the scar peeking behind the strands of his dark hair. You felt an overwhelming sensation as you stared at the kid across from you. You can see glimpses of James trying his first greasy burger. You bit the inside of your cheek when Harry laughed at a joke Sirius had just made.

You saw flashes of Lily, laughing. Harry’s eyes sparkle the same way Lily's did. You look away when you feel Remus gives your hand another gentle squeeze. Looking at your husband, he gives you a look. No words had to be said, you knew what Remus was asking. He was asking if you were OK, you just nod.

Remus started to rub your arm under the table, it made you feel at ease. You missed Remus so much. You only got to see him after weeks of doing missions. You missed his warmth, his presence and his touch. It was hard at first when you left after being together for so long. You felt like you didn’t know how to live the first few weeks away from him. Remus and you were like a team from the very beginning, you met him. You had brought him up from the lowest point in his life and he did the same with you.

“Dream team.” He would say to you. He said those very words to you when you left. You left because you needed the money. After everything, Remus and you were all alone. Barely making it by. No one wanted to hire a werewolf and he had refused to let you work because he knew deep down that Fenrir Greyback was still alive. Remus was in tears when he begged you not to work in London.

“I can feel him for some reason when I’m a werewolf. I know he’s alive. Sometimes during a full moon, I hear his howl and if he is still alive that means you know who can still be alive. They can still be looking for you.”

“Okay. I won’t work here.” You told him before hugging him. Trying to console him because he was in tears. As much as Remus tried to forget about Greyback, there was no point because they were connected to each other. Grayback was the one who bit Remus making him into a werewolf. They will always be connected.

Dumbledore was kind enough to contact the Ministry of Magic in the states. They knew about you and oh how excited they were to have someone like you over there because who shall not be named had died causing a few Death Eaters escaping from their homes to reside in the states and of course they were causing havoc.

The money was fine and it helped with restoring the cottage, Remus and you lived there. It helped Remus get by, not as much but bearable. He always felt bad taking money from you, his hard-working wife, who was risking her life every day. He has done a few muggle jobs here and there but he will always get fired at the end for missing work too much after the full moon. Most of the money went towards his Wolfbane potion, such an expensive thing it is. It was something that you told him at first when giving him money. Remus didn’t want to take it, saying it wasn’t right and fair but you simply shook your head at him before telling him.

“The thought of you being alone, not in your right mind while I am across the world hurts me. I won’t always be there during a full moon to hold you and take care of you but knowing that you have taken your potion. I know you will be alright and it makes me happy.”

The days when you came back to the cottage was everything to both you. Coming home to Remus after a long mission was what you needed to come back. Meaning, missions were always physically and mentally utterly exhausting. You have seen death and destruction during your missions and sometimes you were the one to cause it. You have lost coworkers and friends throughout the years. Remus would hold you until the next day, allowing you to cry and scream. He would wake you up from your nightmares. This went both ways, you were so happy when you came back home when a full moon was going to happen. You enjoyed taking care of him, healing him and providing for him. It reminded you of the old days when both of you were at Hogwarts.

You would wipe the blood from his cuts on his body when the boys would bring him back from a full moon. You would ease his pain and anger when a full moon would be near. Remus would cast a spell for you to stop your bleeding nose or hold you after you were bullied. He’s been with you after everything you had endured in Hogwarts and your home.

You looked over at Harry again, you saw he was done with his food and was speaking with Remus and Sirius. Looking out the window you saw the sun was setting, taking a peek of your watch, you let out a tsk. “I should take Harry back. It’s almost curfew over there.”

Harry looked sad at this and you were quick to grab his hand that was laid on the table.

“This isn’t our last dinner, you know. We are finally together again, all of us. Not trying to be the overbearing aunt but you can send me letters. Use the floo to come over. Maybe spend the weekend at our place, perhaps invite your friends over as well. Remus has told me good things about them.” Harry nods at you with a bright smile.

All his life, his real family didn’t want anything to do with him. Petunia had never once made him feel this wanted and loved. He felt like this was a dream and he was scared that he would wake up soon and all of this would be gone.

“I’ll take him back, you boys stay here.” You said standing up grabbing your jacket from the hook outside of the booth. Remus stands up to kiss your cheek, telling you to be careful as Harry said his goodbye to Sirius.

Waving bye at Remus and Sirius, you walked out of the restaurant. “Wait, I have-.” You stuff Harry’s money back into his pocket.

“No need, my dear.” You said as you signal Harry to follow you. “Thank you for dinner.” Harry said.

“Let’s walk for a bit.” You told him as you walked down the block.

“I didn’t mention anything about my time in Hogwarts in the restaurant but if you like, I can tell you a little bit as we walk. Maybe one day, I'll tell you all about it.” Harry nods at you and he notices how tense you became while stuffing your hands in the pockets of your coat.

“I really didn’t have a good time at first in Hogwarts. I came in pretty late. In the fifth year, I didn’t know much. To be honest, I didn’t know anything about magic. I was an outcast and I was bullied because I was a muggle-born. It did not help that I was in Slytherin, how they hated me at first until they saw the potential in my magic. Some students were kind to me while others were just plain cruel.”

“Did your parents know about the bullying?” Harry asked you as both of you crossed the street to a small park.

Harry saw your eyes closed for a minute before stopping at the corner. “Not really, home was even worse for me.”

Harry frowns as he looks up at you. “My mom died when I was young and my father was an alcoholic who liked to hit.”

“You said he was, does that mean he stopped drinking?” Harry asked and you shook your head.

“He died a few years ago. My father would’ve never stopped. I’m sure if he could, he would be drinking in hell.” You noticed the look in Harry’s eyes.

“No need to look sad.” Harry lets out a deep breath.

“When Remus said you had a rough life, I didn’t think it would be that. I thought it was only my family but not yours.” Harry flinched when you got close to him. You stared at his eyes and he saw your nostrils flare.

“The Dursleys?” You said. “What have they done to you?” Your eyes grew hard when he didn’t say anything.

“Harry! Tell me?” You asked him. Harry shook his head at you but the look in his eyes told you something else.

“It’s over now. They don’t do anything anymore.” He lied. You pulled Harry into a hug and kissed the top of his head.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” He heard you whisper as he hugs you back. He shut his eyes tight as you held him, not caring that his glasses were pressed tight against you. Harry looks up at you as you push his hair away from his face. You cup his face with your hands.

“They will never touch you again. I swear it.” Harry just stares at you. You said it so nonchalantly that he almost believes you.

“People like us, we survive. We survive because we have endured it. We lived through that pain inflicted by others. Use that to your advantage, my dear.”

“Don’t tell Sirius about it. I haven’t told anyone about it. I get enough pity and looks from people because I’m Harry Potter.”

“I know what you mean. Wanting to be normal, wanting to be like everyone else. The stares and the whispers.” Harry agrees with you with a nod.

“They do it right in front of you so you can hear it.” Harry comments and it pained you that he had to deal with that.

Harry and you walked for a few blocks as you told him more about your time in Hogwarts. You told him how it was Dumbledore, who found you. Dumbledore was the one to take you away from your home and take you to Hogwarts. You told Harry that the whole experience felt out of this world. You were in your bedroom when you heard someone walk inside the apartment. Harry tried to cover his laughter when you told him you thought Dumbledore was a crackhead that let himself in and you had called the most powerful wizard an old man to his face.

Checking your watch one more time, you told Harry it was really time to go back. Grabbing his hand, you apparated in front of Hogwarts by the gates. You walk up the hill with him, telling him about the first time you went to Diagon Alley. He smiled and he told you about his experience with Hagrid. Hagrid took him away from his family on his birthday. Standing in front of the castle, you hugged Harry one last time. You kissed his forehead as you said your goodbye.

“You know I wasn’t lying about sending me letters and coming over. You can always spend the summer with me and Remus. I know for a fact Sirius wouldn’t mind if you stay with him. He said he was fixing the house for you to live with him.” Harry smiles.

“Can I call you aunt or Yankee? Maybe aunt Yankee?” Harry asked and you answered with a yes.

“Whatever you wish, my dear boy. I know Remus would love it if you called him uncle Remus or uncle Moony.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “Yes, we may not be your blood family, Harry but Remus and I think of you as our own.” Harry remembers what Remus had told him about you fighting for him when he was a baby.

“But, I must confess something to you, Harry. I need to say this because I don’t want to keep secrets from you.” You told him.

“You can choose whether or not you still want to talk to me but I need to tell you that I have done things in my life that I am not proud of. I have killed and hurt people, bad people. The most despicable people that you can think of.”

Harry watched as you looked over at Hogwarts with a sad look on your face. It was the same look Sirius had when he first saw Hogwarts again after 12 years. He saw tears rolling down your eyes as you looked at the castle.

“I need you to understand I would never hurt you. I will kill myself before I ever hurt you. I needed you to know because there is a war coming and I will be something else when it comes. I have fought in battles over in the states, I have done things to survive, to ensure my safety and others. I don’t want you to think of me as different because of it.”

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest while you spoke. By the look on your face, he knew you were telling the truth.

“I believe you. I believe you won’t hurt me, Yankee.” You smiled at him as you quickly wiped your tears away.

“Go before you get into trouble.” You said waving goodbye at him. You were about to turn around when you heard him yell aunt. He gave you a last goodbye before walking inside.

Remus and Sirius were still in the restaurant, they had ordered another round of beer when you walked back inside.

“How did it go?” Remus asked you as the waiter came back with 3 pints of beer.

“Good.” You answered them and thanked the waitress.

There was a silence between the three of you and Sirius quickly rose up from his seat when he saw you started to cry. Remus made room for Sirius to sit down and tugged you close to him. Remus wrapped his arm around your torso, while you covered your face with your hands. Your shoulders shook while you sobbed. Sirius leaned his head against your shoulder. Dropping your hands from your face, you let out a deep breath.

“I told him what I have done. Told him about the killing. He still called me his aunt afterwards. I thought I was going to lose him. I thought he was going to call me a murderer.”

“You are NOT a murderer. You have done things to survive. For your team to survive. You have stopped people who have done terrible things. People who kill. People who raped the innocent. Harry is smart. He knows the difference.” Remus told you.

“He’s right, Yankee. Harry knows. He has a good heart. He did a noble thing for Peter. Told me he didn’t think his father would have wanted his two best friends to be killers.” Sirius said softly and you felt Remus tense up.

You look ahead and drag Sirius’ pint of beer in front of him. You gave thought to what Sirius told you. You shut your eyes when you remember James telling you something after your wedding.

James had caught you watching Remus and Sirius dancing in the middle of the dance floor. You were leaning against the railing of his backyard porch.

“How long have they been going at it?” You look over at James who was smiling at them.

“For a while now, they are doing every song on the record of Queens.” You answered, making James laugh. He looks over at you.

You raised an eyebrow at him when James kept looking at you. “You alright?” James nods and shoots a quick glance at Remus before looking back at you.

“I’m just happy you guys are together.” You nudge your shoulders at James. “James, you are such a sap.”

“I’m serious. I just know you’ll take care of him.”

Looking over at James. His blue eyes shine with unshed tears. “You are the strongest person I know. I’m happy he has you. I was worried that after school is done he will be alone and have no one.”

“I know he’s good to you. After everything I’m glad you are with Remus. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. I was just so worried, especially with everything that happened. I love him, he’s my brother. Just as I love you, Yankee. You’re the sister I always wish I had.” You glance over at Remus who was bending down, holding his stomach in laughter as Sirius tried to do the worm.

“I’ll take care of Remus if you take care of Sirius.” James gives you a smile.

“Lily and I are going to ask him to move in with us.” You grew happy at that idea, you had no doubt in your mind that Sirius would refuse.

Remus' touch made you open your eyes and you were back at the diner. You looked down at your own cup taking another deep breath, watching the foam on the beer before looking ahead.

‘Don't worry, brother. I’ll take care of them and Harry.’ You said to yourself as you grabbed the handle of the cup.

“I’m gonna kill that fucking rat.” You told Sirius and Remus then brought the cup to your lips. Sirius and Remus shared a look behind you, they knew you meant Peter.

“We know.” Remus and Sirius said simultaneously. They took a sip from their drinks as well. The three of you could have sworn the ghost of Lily and James sat across from the booth. James had his arm around Lily’ shoulder as they laughed. Drowning the pint, Sirius ordered another round. The three of you kept talking and drinking until late. Sirius, Remus and you were reminiscing about the past. Talking about everyone, talking about the pranks Sirius and James used to pull. Before you knew it, you were helping Remus carry Sirius back home.

“He hasn’t had a drink in 12 years and now he’s a lightweight.” You said as Remus opened the door of the house.

“He’s always been a lightweight, love.” Sirius gasps loudly before laughing out loud making you snort as you and Remus help him up the stairs.

“You’re gonna have one hell of a headache, Pads.” You said as Remus opened the door of his room. Sirius let out a giggle when saw his bed and threw himself on top of the covers ignoring Remus calling out for him.

“You need to change.” Remus told him as you started to remove Sirius’ shoes while Remus walked to the dresser across the room.

“Just like old times.” You told Remus who walked back to you and laid a pair of pajamas on the edge of the bed. You dropped one of Sirius’ shoes on the ground before working on the other.

“Thank god, he doesn’t throw up like James.” You commented, making Remus groan as he remembers cleaning James' throw up. You had taken them to a bar in New York and it was the first time James and Sirius had tequila.

“Let me get him a glass of water and a bucket just in case.” Remus said leaving the room as you grab a blanket from the closet. You walked towards him and laid the blanket over him. Sirius calls your name softly as you tuck him in. He grabs your hand.

“I’m glad you're here.” You smile at your drunk friend.

“I’m glad to be here too.” You said while unbuttoning the first top buttons of his dress shirt so he would be comfortable.

“We should change your shirt at least. Can you move?” You asked him softly before adding that he would feel much better with a sleeping shirt on. You smiled to yourself when Sirius agreed with you.

You grabbed the shirt, Remus laid out as he started to remove his jacket and button down shirt. You froze at the amount of tattoos on his body. He looked fragile and you can see his rib cage. You bite down on your tongue to not cry. Sirius used to be buff back in the day, he was more fuller since he played quidditch. You helped him put the shirt on and he dropped back down with a sigh. You folded his dress shirt and jacket, you looked over at him to see him staring at the ceiling.

“Promise me you’ll take care of Harry if the ministry finds me to take me back to Azkaban.”

“Sirius.” You gently said bringing the blanket up to his chest. He looks away from the ceiling at you.

“If they try to take you away again. I’ll protect you. I’ll fight them.” Sirius takes your hand with his, bringing it up to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat.

“I missed you guys so much. Remus has told me so much and - and I don’t want us to break apart. Stay with me here, the both of you. Don’t- please don’t go back to the cottage. Remus can use the basement when there is a full moon.” Sirius rambles and his words become twisted with tears that were running down his face.

“I’ll speak with Remus about it, okay? You need to sleep now, Si.” Sirius nods at you as you wipe the tears from his face with your fingers.

You hear Remus behind you and he placed the glass of water on the nightstand, he puts the bucket by Sirius’ side. You give a look at Remus when he notices Sirius was crying.

“I’m going to get changed. Goodnight, Si.” You said patting Sirius on the leg and walking out of the room to Remus’ room. You shut the door when you heard Sirius talking with Remus.

You hear Sirius begin to cry. “Don’t leave me alone. Please Moony. I want both of you to stay here.” You slowly walk away from the door.

After calming Sirius down and waiting for him to fall asleep Remus quietly shuts the door behind him and walks towards the guest bedroom. Remus starts to unbutton his cardigan as he walks inside, shutting the door. He hears the shower is on, looking over at the bathroom door. He smiles to himself, he’s smiling because you’re here.

He was happy when he received your letter, telling him you will be returning home. Dumbledore contacted the Ministry of Magic in the states, requesting your help permanently. Remus was surprised when you sent another letter saying you will be arriving a week late due to work. Nevertheless, you were coming back. Remus lets out a sigh as he sits on the edge of the bed, removing his watch and shoes. He hears the shower turn off. A few minutes later, you walk out of the bathroom with a white towel around your body.

“How is he?” You asked, walking towards him, Remus grabs your hand pulling you closer to him. You stood between his long legs.

“Sleeping.” Remus answers as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He can smell the body wash on your skin, your hair is damp and he watches the water droplets dribble down your arms.

“I think we should stay for a while, love.” You nod at him, agreeing with him.

“Yeah. We should. Seeing him crying like that hurts me.” Remus looks up at you.

“It hurts me too. I feel stupid for not believing he was innocent. You were right all along.” Remus said, wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him, pressing his face against your body. You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Do not feel stupid, Remus. At one point I thought he did it but it’s in the past now. Sirius is here with us now. Sirius is alive and we know who betrayed our friends. We know who the real culprit is.” You look down and held Remus’ face in your hands making him look up at you. Your chest tightens at the sight of his red eyes. He let out a soft sob as he shook his head.

“He was all alone there. He looks so different now. So pale and skinny.” Remus’ voice cracks.

“I know. I know but we will help him now. He won’t be alone anymore. We are here and Harry is with us. No more being alone. No more. We are finally together, a family. “ Remus nods.

“Together.” Remus said, you lean down to kiss him. You pull away to kiss his forehead then hug him again.

“I missed you so much.” He tells you. “Me too, baby.”

You feel Remus’ hand touch your bare legs. You truly missed him, it wasn’t the same. Your fingers, the toy you had wasn’t the same as him. He gently squeezed the back of your legs before making their way up to your hips under the towel.

You wanted to tell him about Harry and what he told you about the Dursley. You wanted to do something about it. Remus kissed your arms that were over his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks you in a worried tone. You weren’t surprised. Remus knew your body better than you. Plus it helped that both of you were bonded together. Remus kept looking at you and you grew anxious at your idea that you had. You just hope that he won't get mad at it.

“Baby.” You smiled when he said that. You remember like it was yesterday when you first called him that when you started dating him. He had blushed at the word and asked you if that’s what girlfriends and boyfriends called each other in the states.

“I have to tell you something.” You said in a shaky voice.

The night was cold as you stood in front of Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging. You drew your wand out as you stared at the white front door. The locks undid itself from the inside out and the door opens.

Walking inside you looked around, you heard snoring coming from upstairs. Shutting the door behind you, you walked further inside. You were about to make your way into the kitchen when you came to a halt when you stood in front of the door of the cupboard under the stairs. Staring at the door, you felt something heavy on your chest. That feeling was there, the same feeling that has helped you throughout your missions. Facing the door, you looked at the small lock on it. Pointing the lock with your wand, it unlatches itself and the lock drops down onto the carpeted ground. Pulling the door open, the end of your wand lit up. Your eyes grew wide when you saw a pillow and a blanket on a thin and raggedy mattress. Looking around you saw drawings taped on the wall with Harry’s name written on the bottom corner of the papers, you took a deep breath as you continued to look around and stopped when you saw three little toys, soldiers to be exact. Dust has collected over them and you took a step away from the cupboard. The door shuts itself.

You hoped it wasn’t true. Your hands shook and you let out a sigh before slamming your fist on the door hard. You pushed yourself away from the door and walked into the kitchen/living room. You walked in front of the fireplace in the living room. Your eyes loomed over the picture frames above the fireplace. You growled at the sight of Petunia with her husband and her kid. All the pictures were of three of them. There were no pictures of Harry.

You let out a shout as you waved your wand at the massive amount of picture frames above the fireplace. The frames came crashing down making noise, you look over at the frames hanging on the wall. There was no Harry and another crash came down.

Vernon woke up from the sound of it. Petunia quickly woke up as well and told him to go down. Vernon got up and began to walk down the steps to the living room with Petunia behind him. There was another crash and Vernon decided to shout for the intruder to stop. Vernon froze when he walked into the kitchen/living room. It was a complete mess, glass from the picture frames were everywhere. The dining table was flipped over and the couch was ripped open, the white stuffing was pulled out.

“What is going on here!?” Vernon shouted as Petunia walked beside him. She let out a gasp not because of the state of the room but because of you. You were sitting in front of the fireplace, facing them while you sat on a dining chair. You had a leg over the other as you leaned back. Vernon's eyes grew wide when he saw you had a cigarette hanging from your lips.

“Petunia. You haven’t changed a bit. You still look like shit.” You said looking at Lily’s older sister. She wore a nightgown and hair rollers on top of her head. Vernon had a gray shirt and plaid pants along with a dark blue robe.

“What is the meaning of this?” Vernon shouted making his way to you but you pulled out your wand and pointed it at him making him freeze.

“You are one of those freaks.” He shouts at you as you blow smoke out from your mouth. He gets more mad when the ashes fall on the ground.

“What do you want?” Petunia asked harshly, eyeing you up and down.

“I know something.” Lily’s sister frowns at you as you stare back at her.

“It has come to my attention on how you have been treating Harry all these years.” The married couple looked at each then down to the ground.

“Not even trying to deny it?” You asked.

“You listen here, you bitch. Get out of my house.” Vernon snapped at you and you laughed while throwing the cigarette in the fireplace.

“I’ll leave after I’m done with you.” They jumped when they saw you disappear in mid air. Vernon shouted when he felt you behind him, your wand pointing at his fat neck. He raised his hands up, in surrender.

Petunia was going to jump at you when you pulled your gun out with your other hand and pointed it at her head. She lets out a gasp at the sight of the barrel aiming at her.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Stand by the wall.” You hissed at her without removing your eyes at Vernon. She obey and leaned against the wall behind you.

“I want to know everything.” You said tilting your head at Vernon. He winced when he felt a horrible sensation in his head. You stared at him as you read his mind. Your teeth grinded together as you watched how they treated Harry. Locking him up under the stairs for days ends, sometimes without water and food. You gave him a frown when you saw how poorly they treated Harry.

Petunia saw your body shake as Vernon shouted in pain. “Stop it! Stop it!” She shouted and Vernon fell down to the ground. Your hand holding the wand dropped down to your side. The grasp on your gun tightened as you turned around to look at her.

“Your own nephew, your flesh and blood.” Petunia flinched under your gaze. She started to cry when you cocked the gun and walked closer to her. You were standing right in front of her.

“You really are a heartless bitch. You are filled with hate because you were jealous of Lily. Do you know how many times I comforted her because of you? She just wanted her sister to love her.” Petunia sobbed when she felt the barrel of your gun under her chin. You let out a scoff at the sight of her and for a second her eyes looked over your shoulders.

“Run!” Petunia shouted and you looked over to see Vernon had gotten up and was now running to the front door. Vernon managed to open it and froze when he saw a tall man with scars on his face standing by the entrance.

“Mr. Dudley.” Vernon’ eyes were wide when he felt something touch his stomach. The man was holding a wand.

“Get back inside. Right fucking now.” You gave Petunia a smile when you heard Remus.

Remus slammed the door behind him as Vernon walked inside backwards into the living room. Remus looks at you and you allow him to look inside your mind. Petunia shouted when Remus let out a growl and grabbed Vernon from the scruff of his neck and slammed him against the wall. His hand wrapped around Vernon’s neck as the images of Harry being abused ran through his mind.

Vernon flinched at Remus’ low growl.

“I’m not the only one that is angry. Petunia, I can feel and hear his thoughts. He wants to kill your husband.” You whispered to her.

“What do you want?” Petunia cried as she looked over your shoulder at Vernon.

“Are you going to do what I say?” She nodded frantically as tears ran down her face.

“You swear?” You asked as you moved the gun to the crown of her forehead.

“I swear!” She shouted with all her might.

“Next time Harry comes here. You will treat him like a son. Do you understand me if he comes to this place for any fucking reason you better treat him right? You will not lock him up in his bedroom upstairs anymore. You’re so fucking lucky you switch rooms because if he was still sleeping under the fucking stairs I would have blow your husband brains out.” Petunia sobbed at you but nodded.

“I promise. I promise.”

“Petunia if you lie to me and keep treating Harry like that.” You grab her chin, making her look down at you.

“I’m going to take your precious son away from you.” You pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her. Petunia trembles against you as she sobbed.

“You have no idea the extent I will go through to protect my loved ones.” You whispered in her ear.

“Now, since we have that settled. I will know if you tell anyone about this and if you do tell anyone, even Harry. Your husband dies and your son gets taken away.”

Remus looks over his shoulder as Petunia promises you. She’s sobbing and her cries started to get to him. His grip on Vernon tightened as Petunia cried out once more that she would keep promise. Remus glanced back at Vernon, his eyes hard and jaw clenched.

“Let’s see how much you like it.” Vernon frowns at Remus’ words. You were about to leave the room when Remus forcibly pushed Vernon towards the stairs. The door of the cupboard opens by itself and Vernon is shouting as Remus pushes him inside.

“I saw it was three days that you left Harry inside of here. Without food or water.” Remus said, placing his hands on the door after he shuts it close. Vernon’s shouting is muffled.

Petunia cried as you walked away from her towards Remus. You saw him shut his eyes as the door locked itself, a golden line appeared around it surrounding the door. The line dissolved and he tried to open it. It was locked.

Remus had always been good with charms.

Remus felt your hand on his back and turned to you. Petunia is standing in horror as she watches the whole thing. She knew about Remus just as she did with you. Tall and lanky Remus was her sister’s best friend in Hogwarts. She remembers being so annoyed that she had to open the door of her home for him. Remus would visit Lily during breaks. She has never seen him look so angry, his eyes were filled with hate. The eyes of Remus Lupin practically glowed as he caught her staring at him.

“After three days it will open.” Remus said before taking to your hand.

“Say hello to Dudley for me.” You told her before walking out of the house with Remus. The front door shuts close by itself when both of you step out. Last thing you heard before leaving was Petunia banging on the door of the cupboard.

Remus and you appear back at grimmauld, he opens the door for you and sees Kreacher standing on top of the stairs. He gives Remus and you a look of disgust before disappearing in mid air.

“What an angel.” You said sarcastically while removing your coat, Remus doesn't say a word, he takes your coat and hangs it up along with his on the coat rack.

You look over your shoulder to see Remus staring at the coat rack. His shoulders are tense and you hug him from behind, wrapping your arms around his torso as you lay your head against his back. You inhaled the scent of cigarette and laundry detergent on him. He was waiting outside the house in case someone had escaped. Remus was smoking as he watched you enter the home of the Dursley.

“Thank you for coming with me.” You said as you felt him grab a hold of your hands. You were nervous he wouldn't come with you to deal with them.

“I didn't want to believe it at first.” Remus’ voice crack. “When I saw his memories, I wanted to kill him. Kill him for treating Harry so badly.”

“We could have raised him better.” You shut your eyes tightly letting him talk. Not being able to be Harry’s parent was heartbreaking for you but it broke Remus. The last connection he had of Lily and James was gone.

“We didn't have much but we would have done a better job than them.” Remus' body shook and you held him tighter.

“We have him now. We have protected him from them. He has two years left until he can decide where to live. I think we scared the Dursley enough for two years.” Remus turns to face you.

“Did you mean when you said that you would have killed him, you would kill the husband?” Remus asked and you looked up at him. You nodded at him.

“I would have.” You said. “Seeing young Harry crying under the stairs-.” You shook your head trying to get rid of the thought. You were getting angry.

“Watching him go hungry and that piece of shit taunting him.” Remus is silent and you can see he was thinking.

“Are you afraid of me?” You asked him softly looking into his eyes, hoping not to see fear. You don’t think you will be able to handle it if Remus was afraid of you. Remus wasn’t kept in the dark from the missions you had done. He knew every person you killed and every person you prisoned. He was there in the states after a terrible mission went wrong years ago, he was told of the horrors you had endured. You were gone for four months before you were founded along your team.

“No.” He told you, bringing his hands up to cup your face. Your hair was now dried and you wore an old sweater you took from him and a pair of dark jeans.

“I can never be afraid of you.” Remus mumbled against your forehead then pressed a kiss against it. His lips went down to kiss the side of your face, you shut your eyes as he rubbed your cheek with his thumbs as he continued to kiss you. He leans down to capture your lips.

He drinks your moan as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He pushed you gently against the wall, he had you pin up as he pulled away from your lips. With his forehead against yours, he’s breathing heavily.

“I missed you so much.” He whispers and you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him. Remus whines as you make out with him. He smirked against your lips when he felt your hands on his hips, fingers making their way to his belt.

You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, you look at him with hooded eyes as you undo his belt and unzip his trousers.

“I missed you too. So bad, I would-oh god. I would touch myself with your sweaters back in the states.” Remus lets out a pleased groan as his fingers work with the button of your jeans.

“Did you cum on it?” Remus asks as your mouth drops open when he slips his hands inside your pants. He licks his lips when he feels your soft curls on your mound. The tip of his fingers are wet when he rubs against your clit.

“Yes.” You whine as Remus kisses your neck as his fingers swirled around your clit, pressing hard against it. You grabbed his arms when he nibbled on your neck.

He moans when he licks the healed bite mark on your neck as he fastens his strokes, you blush at the sound of your wet cunt. Remus growls when your underwear restricts him from going faster. He removes his hand and quickly takes you to the living room.

You push him on to the dark green couch that stood in front of the fireplace, it was on. Kreacher must have started a fire to keep the old house warm. Remus watches as you tip your shoes off. He blinks and he sees you have used magic to remove your pants and underwear before he can do the same thing. You got on top of him, straddling him.

Remus meets your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands rubbed your outer legs before pushing the sweater you had up, showing your bare chest. He groaned when he felt your bare chest, you didn’t put on a bra. The thought of you without wearing one made him grow harder.

“Fuck.” You whispered, pulling away from his lips when he rubs your nipple with one hand. Remus licks his lips watching your pretty face.

He feels your cunt against this groin, he’s biting his bottom lip when your hips swirled on him. It’s been too long, too long without you. Remus counted the days whenever you were to return back home. Days would be spent together, in bed and out of bed. Enjoying each other's bodies and minds. Remus felt like he was a teenager again when you removed his sweater and threw it over the couch. Remus’ mouth dropped when he saw your naked figure. He will always be amazed by it.

You looked like a painting to him. Years working as an auror was shown on your body, there were few scars over your shoulders and arms. Some were on your legs and thighs. Scars from your childhood, is a reminder to Remus how strong you are, how you survived. Remus knows how many you have, he has kissed each of them. Just as you did to him. His heart fills up with warmth when he remembers the days after a full moon. You would kiss his fresh scars, kiss his lips and remind him how much you loved him.

Remus watches you place your hands on his chest when you move your hips. Your wet pussy is soaking the crotch of his trousers.

Remus grabs you by the hips and pushes you to rise up. He’s breathing heavily as he pushes his trousers and boxers further down. His cock springs out and he’s looking up at you as he teases your slicked lips with the head of his cock. You gasped when you felt his fat head rub against your clit.

“Please.” Remus begs and you slowly lower yourself down on his cock. He helps you when you cry out when you slide down on his girthy shaft. He groans when your tight cunt clenches around him. His hands grips your hips, he breathes through his mouth, trying to calm himself, to not lose control and start thrusting upwards.

“Oh baby - is so big.” You tell him with a high pitched whine. Remus groaned when you began to roll your hips, his hands on your hips started to help you to move up and down. He was getting impatient, he had to feel you cum in his dick. It’s been so long since he felt your cunt cumming on him.

Moaning his name, you look down at Remus. He brings a hand to your face, pulling you down to lay your forehead against his. His eyes were wide as he stared at you while riding him. Your nails were digging on the shirt he wore. You imagined him naked, oh fuck Remus was still in clothes but you couldn’t stop. How could you stop when his cock is hitting you on your sweet spot. It made your toes curl up, Remus started to speak in Welsh. His voice is low and deep, you clenched around him once more.

You knew a few words here and there but hearing him speak in his mother tongue made your pussy drool. You rode him harder, the couch under him creaked.

“That’s it. That’s it, yes.” Remus praised you as he kissed your neck. You cry out when you feel his teeth on your neck, throwing your head back when he grabbed your hips with both hands and pulled you all the down to his lap.

A growl escapes from his lips and he begins to thrust his hips upwards. He struggles with his trouser now and you swore you can hear it rip. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Remus.” You cry out when he starts pounding you from underneath. Your clit is rubbing against his happy trail. You feel him deep inside of you when you cum. Remus is cupping your ass, squeezing it as you cum on him. Remus groans as he squishes his face against your chest. His mouth finds your nipple and he starts to suck on it while you twitch on his cock.

Remus feels you gush in his lap and it makes him release his load deep inside of you. You feel his nails digging into your skin, you drop your weight on him and he welcomes it. Wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you close as he leans back on the couch.

It’s quiet for a few moments, Remus is breathing heavily as he holds you. He hears your heart beating so loudly as he is still pressed against your chest. Your arms around his shoulder move up to his neck. He looks up when he feels you push his hair away from his face.

“Fy nghariad.” (My love.) You whispered to him in welsh.

---

Sirius wakes up with a massive headache. He sat up as he pushed his messy curls out of his face. Rubbing his eyes with his hands, he groans when he starts to remember last night. He was crying, Remus was in tears, Harry cried and you cried. Fuck, everyone was crying.

But even with all the crying and the sad feelings. Sirius smiled as he remembered your words, back together as a family.

He remembered Remus’ words before he fell asleep. His dear friend had grabbed his hands and assured him that they would be staying with him. Sirius' smile didn’t falter, he rose up from his bed and grabbed his wand from the night stand. He had no doubt, it was Remus who placed it knowing he was going to need it.

Sirius opened the door of his bedroom and walked out. Looking down the hall all the way at the end. He sees the guest bedroom door is closed, he keeps walking to the staircase.

‘I’ll let them rest.’ Sirius tells himself. Sirius knew that Remus and you would want to sleep in. He makes his way into the living room when he almost slips. He shouts loudly but catches himself in time. With his hand on the wall, he looks down to see a sweater.

It couldn’t be his because he has never worn a sweater that wasn’t his quidditch sweater. Plus it was dark green, green isn’t his color. He looks around the living room to see other pieces of clothing around the living room.

“Ridiculous, this is. That werewolf and mudblood are messy and leave their disgusting clothes everywhere.” Sirius rolled his eyes and was about to walk into the kitchen when he noticed a pink underwear by the edge of the rug.

His cheeks flared up in a blush and he’s about to continue on to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He yells at Kreacher to answer it as he walks into the kitchen. He gives a silent thanks to that old grouchy elf when he sees the kettle was on. He grabs a cup and a plate from the wall and Kreacher pops near him.

“Master Black. Someone strange is here for the mudblood.” Sirius’ eyes darkened once Kreacher repeated that foul name again. He had to stopped it, if you going to stay here. He pointed a finger at Kreacher.

“Stop saying that. I mean it.” Kreacher just bows and Sirius walks out of the kitchen to the living room. At first Sirius believes he’s still sleeping. There’s a man, a cowboy. A tall man with blue jeans along with a sliver large buckle belt and light beige color suit jacket, he has a brown cowboy hat on top of his head and it matches with his brown boots.

“Howdy, there sir. The name is Miles and I’m lookin’ for Mrs. Lupin.”

Before Miles, the cowboy can speak again. Sirius just yells loudly as he stares at the man in front of him.

“YANNNNNNKEEEEEEEEE!!”

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fanfiction #harry potter has a aunt #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #please read tags #fanfic

321 notes · View notes

y-rhywbeth2 · 9 months

Note

In your post about Durge's sudden normality you mentioned implied SA in the tags; would you mind elaborating on that? I don't remember seeing any implications like that, but I know I missed a lot of details in my first run. (Obviously if you would mind feel free to ignore this.)

Naturally this is going under a cut for discussion of rape, sexual exploitation and incest:

Some of it is mostly me reading into things and frowning, but Bhaal being able to violate Durge sexually and the intent of sexual exploitation (regardless of Durge's will) is canon and it does lend credence to the idea.

Durge is obligated to breed, and Bhaal can and will force them to; the original version of the feral ending in the dialogue files involves him forcing them into a state of sexual hyperarousal and forcing them to mate with a gnoll, in the same way he can force the urge to slay on them. Bhaal's intention there is to see if he can breed more monstrous Bhaalspawn. Some of the dialogue options are just Durge screaming in horror.

Durge has no memory of the actual rape; Bhaal forces them to spend the entire time thinking about him: "Your memory of last night's act is absent. In the moment of mounting, your mind emptied itself, and you could think only of Bhaal."

And knowing that, when I saw "I love you father. I'm a good [child], a good, good [child]" in the released version I had to go sit down for a bit.

We know that Durge is expected to have kids - it's a mortal sin that they haven't. It's also vague whether they tried or not pre-amnesia; they're described as "failing" not refusing, it could've gone either way. Durge may already have been exploited. Even if they don't disappoint Bhaal in game, this "duty" remains. It's not just the Tribunal making shit up; Sceleritas is your direct liaison to Bhaal, and he makes this clear to them as Bhaal's Chosen too.

We know that if Durge won't kill then Bhaal will force them to, and we know that he can force them to have sex too. It's entirely possible that Durge's only say in this is to either fuck partners they chose or have them chosen for them (as we all know, Bhaal has zero respect for his kids' bodily autonomy or desires past his use for them, and Bhaal wants more babies.)

At the very least, it doesn't seem to be a major part of Bhaal's plan for Durge yet, so Durge may have dodged this specific form of abuse for now.

Bhaal has also done this to Sarevok, it seems, who would probably have killed himself back in BG1+2 if he could see what would happen to him in his future.

Knowing that Bhaal has no issues inflicting sexual arousal on his own kids, those scriptures you find that explicitly refer to the pleasure he bestows on his followers when they kill as "erotic" unfortunately have little reason not to be applied to Bhaalspawn. It would also explain the necrophilia if Durge has been conditioned to see killing/corpses as sexual.

Not quite the same thing, but the thing where people think Durge fucked the Netherbrain is actually from a remark by Bhaal in the journal update, where he makes a crack that "That slimy thing in the Moonrise called you its fallen star. It was very reverent [...] apparently [you're] good at playing with tentacles."

That's not inherently sexual, but knowing that Bhaal is willing to sexually exploit Durge and that the fandom had already interpreted it as sexual, I did kind of stare at it in horror for a bit.

#Look I found more Durge-Astarion parallels #edgelord hours #/durge

213 notes · View notes

red-dead-sakharine · 9 months

Text

Bring your devil to the circus

Raphael x Tav/Reader tags: gn!Tav, soft grumpy raphael, humor, fluff, tiny bit hurt/comfort

Who needs the orphic hammer, when you can negotiate a much sweeter deal? This is a silly idea that popped into my head, and I'm making y'all suffer through it as well.

"Done." you put the quill down, and Raphael immediately made the contract vanish - to his House of Hope, no doubt - the ink barely dry yet.

"A pleasure, little mouse. I daresay this was quite the bargain. Had I known of your proclivities, I would've--"

"Come!" you didn't even let him finish. He was just puffing hot air right now, and you just - could - not - wait - to get your part of the deal. Grabbing his wrist, you yoinked him after yourself out the door, dragging him down the stairs through Sharess' caress with glee.

He grumbled to himself but followed your lead. After all, he had agreed to this deal - although he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake. There weren't any loopholes he might've overlooked, right? No, no, there couldn't be. He wrote the damn contract himself, after all!

Out of the door and up the street you went, still keeping his wrist in your clutches. He had fallen into pace, though he still tried to free his arm every now and again, but your grip was iron. The mischief on your mind was just too good.

"I am quite capable to walk on my own, little mouse." there was a warning in the way he said those last two words, but you ignored it. He had agreed to play along for 24 hours, and by the gods you would make the most of it. You had - both - insisted on putting in a clause preventing abuse, injury, and the like, but most other activities where fair game. If you wanted him to play on a seesaw, he would have to comply.

As you approached the entrance to the circus, realization dawned in Raphael, "Oh no. No!" You giggled, keeping your iron grip on his wrist. "You will not make me go to the damn circus!" "Oh, I very much will!" you turned to look at him, grinning from ear-to-ear. He looked like he wanted to protest but decided differently. He was bound by contract after all. Instead he gave you the darkest of glares, "Had I known what kind of a heinous sadist you are, I wouldn't have agreed to this." You just laughed gleefully, and approached the bouncer with his ghoul at the gate.

The ghoul, Benji, took one long sniff and started shouting, with a claw pointed at Raphael, "STINKY! SMELLS OF EGGS!"

You could feel Raphael vibrate with annoyance and barely contained rage, so you gave him a little pat on the arm with your free hand, "There, there. It's just a stupid ghoul."

"BENJI NO STUPID! THIS ONE'S STINKY!"

You were sure, the deep growl Raphael produced, could be felt through the ground.

Benji's human handler gave a nervous chuckle, "Oh well, smelling a bit funny isn't a crime. Come on in! Welcome to the Circus of the Last Days!" You could practically feel the annoyance radiating from Raphael as you dragged him through the gates.

"Look, it's not that bad." you tried to calm him down at least a little bit, "I promise, if a clown tries to boop your nose, I'll let you incinerate him." He groaned, but you could feel him grow a little less rigid, "How kind and utterly unheroic of you. And here I thought you were a committed do-gooder." "I have my limits. Clowns are one." you replied flatly, and it actually made Raphael give an amused snort. "Maybe there is hope for you yet, little mouse." He took a deep breath, letting his gaze wander over the dreadful place he found himself in, "Now what, pray tell, do you want me to do here?"

You gave him an impish grin, "First we'll go spin the wheel!" He rolled his eyes, as you dragged him forward, your hand still firmly clutching his wrist.

"WILL THE WHEEL OF WONDERS DUB YOU WORTHY? COME - SEE!" you heard the djinni yell as you made you way towards him, "BEHOLD - AKABI'S WHEEL OF WONDERS. SPIN TO WIN PRIZES BEYOND YOUR TINY MORTAL IMAGINATION." "YES, WE WANT TO SPIN THE WHEEL!" you yelled back, and you could hear Raphael's hand smack against his forehead as he facepalmed next to you. "AHA! FIRST YOU MUST PAY!" You looked expectantly at Raphael, who eventually looked up from his facepalming, his eyes finding yours. Then his expression slowly changed from an unspoken 'what?' to a glower, "Surely, you do not expect me to pay for this nonsense, little mouse." "Of course! You're the gentleman here, I'm just a mouse." you grinned at him, and you could see his jaw muscles clench. Grumbling and muttering curses in infernal, he dished out the money, so you could spin the wheel.

"LET US SEE IF YOU HAVE LUCK'S FAVOUR." Akabi barked, and the wheel spun. You side-eyed Raphael, who was watching the wheel and the djinni intently. When it landed on a blank, he scoffed, "I'm not surprised a djinni would stoop to rigging a game of luck. But this is just pathetic." "You would accuse me, Akabi: Destroyer of Planes - of cheating?" the djinni had lowered the volume to indoor voice for the first time you've seen, and it gave you such a kick to know that Raphael was the cause. You finally relaxed your iron grip on his wrist and instead slid your hand down to interlock your fingers with his - though he did not reciprocate, he also did not pull away. "I'm only pointing out the obvious, 'destroyer of planes'," Raphael managed to make the title sound like an insult, "Wouldn't it be such a shame, if everyone knew what a fraud you are. And pathetic on top, having to rely on a magic ring for your trickery." He scoffed.

You could see the djinni grow angry, and began to wonder who would win in a fight between the two. "How about you give my companion here one of your prizes and we'll just move on?" Raphael offered, and the djinni seemed annoyed but caved, "FINE! CONGRATULATIONS, MORTAL!" he chucked a ring at you, which you barely managed to catch with your free hand, "NOW BEGONE, MEWLING CURD!"

You grinned, and gently tugged Raphael away from the disgruntled djinni. It didn't take much to sense the ring was enchanted - you would let Gale have a look at it later, and pocketed it. This was never about any prizes after all. "That was brilliant!" you beamed at Raphael, who only gave you a sideways glance in return. But you could still see the slight smirk that was tugging on his lips. He sighed theatrically, "I'll admit, it was entertaining to put the puffed up windbag into its place." "I knew you'd enjoy yourself here." you replied with a grin, as you started wandering towards your next target, still holding the devil's uncaring hand. "Now, don't exaggerate - this entire place is still revolting to me." he wrinkled his nose, and you rolled your eyes.

You approached the dryad entertaining a small crowd on her wooden dais, and you could feel Raphael lag behind a little. You held his hand tighter - he still didn't reciprocate - and pulled him gently forward. "It's a dryad." he stated, as if this would deter you from your course. "I can see that." you replied simply. "Boring, plant-loving creatures. What could you possible want from one?" "You'll see." you dragged him up the stairs towards the wood-skinned woman, and you could all but feel Raphael's bored annoyance as he was contractually obligated to follow along.

"You return to me, stira. Have you brought the one you spoke of?" the dryad, Zethino, greeted you. Raphael gave you a look - something between anger and curiosity, but you deliberately avoided looking at him directly, instead focusing on Zethino, "I have. Can we do the thing?" "What thing?" Raphael cut in, tone harsh. "You were not told?" Zethino's melodic voice offered a stark contrast to Raphael's. "Told what?" The dryad looked at you and you held up your free hand, "It's a surprise?" you offered as a flimsy explanation. She looked back at Raphael, her eyes wandering over him, then back to you, "Stira, he is not what he seems." "Oh, I'm well aware." you assured her, "That's not a problem for you, is it?" She cocked her head slightly, looking between you two, "Not for me, no." "Okay great! Let's do the thing then." you tried to hurry this along, before the devil popped a blood vessel. "What. Thing." he asked again; his tone more menacing now.

"I will look into your hearts and see if your bond is strong." the dryad's melodic voice explained, and Raphael's brow furrowed, his eyes wandering from you to her now, "'Our bond'?" he echoed in confusion, and you tugged slightly on his hand, that you were still holding. He looked down to the joined appendages, then up to you, then to the dryad, then back to you. You've never seen a man this confused. "Let's just start." you stage-whispered, and the dryad smiled. "Close your eyes. Be still as stone to earth, and remember to breathe." she instructed with her melodic voice.

You did as asked. Technically, Raphael was obligated to play along - the contract made sure of that - so you hoped it would work.

"I see you." you heard the dryad muse, "Know you. But do you know each other?" You heard Raphael scoff. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself standing in front of a log, crossing a small creek, with a waterfall in the background. Raphael was on the other side, looking wholly unimpressed.

"Listen. Think. Raphael, the devil in disguise, what does he most desire in this world?" the dryad asked you in her singsong voice. You clicked your tongue, "Easy. The crown of Karsus, so he can stick it to his father Mephistopheles." Raphael raised a surprised brow, "How do you know who my father is?" "I asked Yurgir, why he was so afraid of a cambion, before I talked him into killing himself." you explained with a grin, and stepped onto the log. Raphael didn't say anything in response, but judging by his expression, he was impressed.

Zethino turned to Raphael, "And Tav, the unexpected hero. What drives them in their journey?" The disguised cambion snorted, "Low hanging fruit. Get rid of the tadpole, and make people happy along the way." He sounded dismissive, as if it was a damnable flaw of yours, but the fact that he knew it off the cuff like that, made you grin. "Quite right. Spreading a bit of happiness never hurt." you smiled. He scoffed. The dryad pushed him gently a few steps onto the log.

She turned to you again, "Your bond hums in tune. There is sunshine, but there is also rain. What does Raphael loathe?" You cocked your head a little and looked at him, thinking for a moment before you responded, "Chaotic, untidy disorder, and bad manners!" Raphael narrowed his eyes, "It's true. There are many things about your world that I loathe. Chattering children, litters of kittens, the noise, and the chaos of it all." You smiled and stepped forward, "You and me, both." He raised a brow and looked like he wanted to question that statement, but Zethino cut him off.

"And what does Tav despise the most?" Raphael looked at the dryad, then to you, "People who hurt dogs." You had to laugh, "It's true! There's nothing more deserving of punishment in the hells, than hitting a dog. But, how did you figure that one out?" Raphael brushed his nails on his doublet, looking as non-chelant as can be, "Oh, I just heard the Sword Coast Couriers are missing a kennel master." he looked at you with an impish grin that oozed approval. Likely more of your method, than your defence of animals though. And it was true. After seeing how the lady at the kennels had treated her dogs, and raised a hand to Scratch when you brought him by, it wasn't a hard decision to drive dagger through her eye. Raphael took a step closer.

"Your bond beats in pleasure. It is an honor to behold." the dryad sang, "But does it hold in darkness still? What is Raphael's deepest shame?" You could see the fiend's brow furrow, and heard him mutter something about stupid questions. The waterfall was too noisy to make out his exact words, as you regarded him for a bit, while pondering. He crossed his arms and stared down at the water while he waited. You had an inkling what the answer was, but you weren't sure if it was something you should say out loud. But in the end, you figured you came up with the right words, so you responded, "Being a cambion and not a true devil. But--" You could see the change in his expression, from grumpy to... alarm? to anger. And his gaze turned on you, burning hot. You held up a hand in a calming gesture, "--but I don't think it has to be. He's the most devilish devil I can imagine. And he'll always be a true devil to me." You offered a smile. It was genuine, and heartfelt, and honest. You meant every word of it, and you hoped he was able to see that. His eyes grew a bit softer, but you couldn't quite interpret his expression, and he didn't say anything. He did make a small gesture though, signalling for you to step closer. And so you did.

The dryad, perhaps wisely, did not comment on what was said and instead continued, "One more question remains, we move back into the sun - what was Tav's greatest joy?" You could practically feel Raphael's gaze rake over you, while he pondered. His arms were still crossed, but he lifted one hand now to rub his chin in thought. He hummed before he eventually offered a response, "Signing my contract." You couldn't prevent a wide grin from growing on your face, "I can think of a few other joyous moments in my life, but I'll admit, that was one of them." Raphael smirked and stepped closer, dropping his arms to his sides.

You stood in front of each other now, and you held his gaze. Looking into those big brown eyes of his. Smiling eyes.

"I press my finger to your bond and find a hidden shield - unrecognized yet, but impenetrable if embraced. It is... beautiful." Zethino mused in her melodic voice, and the meadow around you vanished - replaced with the circus again. "Go in peace, seedlings, and follow your hearts. The most unusual bond I have been graced to witness - it will be just as strong as it is strange."

"Thank you." you managed to say, and took Raphael's hand again to drag him away from the dais. You interlocked your fingers with his once more, and this time he closed his hand around yours, too.

#bg3 #raphael #fanfiction #extraplanar circus #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #fluff #humor #this got a lot longer than I intended #circus of the last days #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #rds #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3

263 notes · View notes

everythingelseisextra · 1 year

Text

Horse To Water

Part Fourteen: Come Home (Tommy's POV)

I'm too lazy to write a description, have fun. Warnings: Kind of torture, kind of police brutality, talk of war, PTSD, language Word Count: 4535 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul

You find yourself in handcuffs, sitting in an empty cement cell. Water drips slowly from the ceiling. A bucket in the corner fills the room with the rotten scent of excrement. The bar you sit on permeates cold through your jodhpurs and you shiver. When you exhale, your breath fogs in the frigid air.

You’re unsure of the details of how you got here. What you do recall is a blur of hands pressing you down or pushing you forwards, shouts of men discovering the bodies scattered through your property. The one who lasted longer must’ve called the police between the first man’s death and his. Confusion steeped through the officers, and you remember questions yelled at you, your voice failing you as usual, and your consequent incarceration.

They’ve asked you your name. They’ve asked you your birthday, your address, your affiliation, and you can give them nothing. All the words in your mind fail to move past your lips. And so you sit alone in an empty cell and every time you close your eyes you see blood. Every time you take a breath you feel the weight of life in your lungs and you wonder when it got so heavy.

There’s an ache left over from being young in you. This world isn’t quite what your soul expected. You went through childhood with a kind of awful surprise, like each repeated pain you felt was a new betrayal from God. Now, you’re trapped, hands tied, with nothing but your clothes between you and the world. The hair on the back of your neck rises, and you look up to see a policeman peering through the hatch, hazel eyes cold. You suck in a breath and pull your body as far from him as possible, pressing your back against the wall.

After a moment, he enters, closing the door behind him. “So, you’re the mute.”

You stare up at him, halfway between defiant and fearful, your blood trying to boil and freeze at the same time.

“You killed two men. One was particularly brutal. Lure him into a trap and use blunt force trauma from a height? You’re fucked in the head.” He steps towards you, slowly taking a thick, heavy baton from his side and holding it up, eyes on the black metal. “I’ve been sent in here to make you talk. I’m known for my skills, right? I make people talk. I’m good at it. I’m good at making sure people don’t get knocked out when I hit them.”

There’s a smile on his lips. You straighten in your seat, jaw tightening, and smooth out your expression. You blink slowly at him. No way in hell you’re talking, not after a challenge like that.

“I start out gentle.” He holds the baton out, the end right below your chin. “Who are you?”

You close your eyes and breathe. When you were younger, you used to play a game with yourself, when men were particularly rough with your little body. You’d pretend that you were someone else, standing outside of your own body, watching from afar. You’d sink into the role of this person. You’d make up their story; their name, their age, why they were there. And you’d sit in their head and watch yourself be abused. It made the pain lessen. It made it go faster.

Now, as the baton cracks into your chin, you’re standing outside of yourself to the left of the man, considering him. You imagine yourself with a strong, large body, without the aches you always seem to have, and you slip into that form.

“I asked you who you are!” The policeman pulls the baton to the side, resting it above your ear. “I expect an answer!”

The baton hits hard into the side of your head. You fall to the side, but you don’t feel the pain. Your mind is elsewhere, hovering beside the policeman, watching his arm move the baton again, preparing for another strike. There’s hot blood rolling down the side of your head, and you’re aware of it, but you don’t feel it. You don’t feel anything.

You will win this game.

“Who are you?” He waits a few seconds before drawing back and striking you again with the baton. Something flickers in your off-centered mind, and your eyes slowly slide open.

He shouts something again, but you don’t hear it. You’re focused, existing inside and outside yourself, and you’re waiting for him to draw back. He winds up, aiming for your shoulder, and you know if he were to hit, it would break your bone. Seemingly in slow motion, the baton comes crashing down, and you lift your hands, and—

The baton lands on the chain between your cuffs and breaks the metal cleanly in half. Before he registers what has just happened, you’re on your feet. You kick him hard in the groin and make for the door as he falls to his knees, whimpering. You open it, knowing full well you’re about to be caught and put right back into your cell, and shoot out, thinking somehow, maybe, you’ll get past them.

You slam straight into someone, almost falling with the force of it, and back away, looking around wildly for some way to escape. You heave, not even trying to fend off the panic as your body trembles and your eyes search desperately for a way out.

“Easy now, love.” Tommy’s voice. You look up to see his clear blue eyes, a faint smile on his lips. “You didn’t need my help at all, did you?”

Your wide eyes blink to try to clear your vision, give yourself some kind of groundedness in the familiar shape of his face, but the world spins around you and a burning sensation rises in your chest as you lose your breath time and time again.

A hand reaches out for you and you jerk away, trying to catch the breath that runs chaotically away. You continue to back away, frantically seeking freedom.

“You’re not back there. You’re not trapped. Look around, you’re free as I am.”

There are eyes on you, pinning you to the ground, scorching your skin with their seeping gazes. You shake your head, brow furrowing, wishing you could get out from this cold, dark hallway, away from the eyes on you, away from the clattering of other prisoners.

“Look around. You’re alright. You’re alright.” He steps towards you and you try not to cower. “Come on, let’s go, eh? Hold your head up and let’s go.”

You take a gasping breath, then another, trying to get ahold of yourself. He reaches out a hand to you, letting it hover softly in the space between. After a moment, you look up, meeting his eyes with a kind of feral recognition that you’ve only ever seen in spooking horses being calmed. Slowly, you reach out a trembling hand to take his.

“You’re okay.” He gives your hand a slight tug and starts to walk. Your body, pumped with adrenaline, stumbles to move by his side, falling into step with him.

Down a cold cement hallway, with eyes seeking somewhere to land through the bars of cell doors, you walk with him. Behind you, officers watch in silence, your silhouettes slowly getting smaller in their vision. He knows his way through the maze-like building, knows how to navigate through the frigidity, and before you realize it, you’re out into fresh, equally cold night air. You stop and tilt your head up, searching the sky for stars and finding only the polluted gray of Birmingham. You continue to tremble, half from cold, half from the residual fear that skewers you, a slow, painful death.

Once you’re in his car, tires rumbling down the streets, he speaks again. “Fucking coppers wouldn’t tell me anything. Said they brought in a girl from a barn on the outskirts for double homicide. Even Moss kept his mouth shut.”

You close your eyes, pressing them together, then open them again. Your voice comes out as barely more than a whisper. “That’s because they didn’t know anything.”

“They tried telling me that. Told them they needed to find out, then changed my mind.” He reaches out to gently brush the bloody side of your head and you flinch. He drops his hand, jaw tightening slightly. His voice raises. “Does anyone ever fucking listen to me?”

You hold back tears, voice breaking and pathetically small. “They were scared that you’d hurt them if they couldn’t tell you more.”

“What were you thinking, running off and killing two men?” His tone remains harsh and you suddenly realize you’re trapped, alone in a car with a very dangerous man.

“I obviously didn’t do it for fun, Tom.” You wrap your arms around yourself, a silent tear dripping down your cheek. “They found me. I don’t know how, but they did. One of them was an old client, the other… I don’t know. It was self defense. They would’ve taken me back.”

He’s quiet for a moment, blue eyes reflecting the lanterns lighting the streets, little embers in the iciness. “One man with a crushed skull, the other with his brains blown out the side of his head.”

“I had to protect myself.” Your words grow louder, hoarse. “What did you want me to do, just go with them? Is that what you think of me? Just some poor haunted girl, helpless? Is that who you want me to be?”

“No,” he says, and the word is final. “No. Everything you did, every choice you made, is exactly what I would’ve done. I don’t want you to follow down the path I did.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “I’m not following any path, I’m just trying to survive.”

“In the morning, we’ll go to your house and pack your things. You’ll stay with me.”

Suddenly, the lump in your throat is gone, replaced with a kind of surprised rage that can’t fully be described. “You’re expecting me to put my life on hold, lose my independence, and move in with you, without even asking me first?”

He blinks, glancing over at you as if he hadn’t realized it might not be what you wanted. “You’ll be sa—”

“Safer? I protected myself just fine, Thomas.”

“Next time, there’ll be more men, more guns, and you’ll be alone.”

“Oh, yeah? Well then, why don’t you move in with me? Why don’t you upend your life and leave everything behind?” You turn your head to look at him, glaring. “How does that sound to you?”

“It’s not the same.”

“What, because you have money and I don’t? Because I have less to lose?”

“You won’t be losing anything.” His hands tighten around the wheel and he straightens. “We’ll bring your horses to my stables.”

Your jaw almost drops. “Tommy, do you have any idea what it means for a woman to move in with a man? Do you realize that I’d be losing my financial and physical independence? You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” He glances over at you. “There are no rules that say you must give up your independence. Doesn’t matter what everyone else does. We can do it differently.”

You look away, refusing to meet his eyes. “I can’t rely on you for everything.”

“You can rely on me for protection.” He nods.

“I’m not— I hope you realize, Tom, that I will never belong to you. I will never be owned by anyone. I need space. I can’t be so close to you that there’s no room to breathe. If you want another possession, another trophy, you need to find someone else.” Your voice grows steady, strong. “I’m tired of belonging to a man. I’m tired of being told that I can’t exist without being attached to someone. I can. I exist, despite it all, and I refuse to do it again.”

“I’m not asking you to belong to me.” He sighs, a subtle sign of frustration. “I’m asking you to keep yourself safe. Let me help you. Even just for until this is over.”

“I can protect myself.”

“You can. But even you can’t be so strong.” His eyes flick down to his hands on the wheel, then back up to the street. “Even you can’t do it alone.”

You let his words fade into the cool night air. You try to siphon through the conflicting thoughts that flit through your mind like hummingbirds. You want to be yourself, separate from everything around you. You want to be where he is, wherever that may be, a constant yearning for the companionship he brings. You want to learn who you are without being caught in someone else’s orbit, without being owned. You want to teach yourself how to love without the constant fear of loss, and there he is, asking for nothing in return. There he is, and he has never done anything to you that was not good, and he has never tried to lead you astray.

You lean your head back against the rest and stare out into the now clear night, the stars showing now that you’ve moved from the city. “You would take in all twelve of my horses… let me live with you… for nothing?”

A faint smile appears on his lips. “It’s a big house. Needs someone else to fill all the empty space.”

You manage a small, watery smile in return. “Thank you.”

“No need.” He turns into the driveway of Arrow House and slowly pulls up. He stops the car but doesn’t get out, simply stares down at his hands and lets them slowly fall from the wheel.

“What?” You shift hesitantly closer to him, trying to read his expression, trying to peer into those blue eyes and decipher the depths inside of them.

“I know you take care of yourself,” he says slowly. “I know you always will. I want you to let me help. With everything. I want us to take care of each other.”

You take in a small breath. This, you think, this is when I hurt him. This is when it ends, all the softness and care, all the pieces of each other shared back and forth.

“I don’t know how,” you say. “It’s always been me. I’ve never learned how to help and be helped.”

“You do know.” He looks over at you, eyes flicking over your face. “I’ve seen you do it. Care for the horses every day.”

“Then I don’t know how to let someone help me.” You reach up and touch the side of your head; you can feel it now, the throbbing, swollen pain pressing through your skull. “I don’t know how to give up that kind of control.”

He considers you, expression soft and quiet. “I know I’m not the man you imagined, but I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you to be ready, and I’ll wait for you to learn.”

You smile a little. “I didn’t imagine any man. You’re quite the plot twist, you know that?”

“Will you try?” His head tilts slightly, a faint, wordless acknowledgement to your statement. “Will you take the time to learn how to be helped?”

“Yes,” you murmur. “Yes. I’ll try.”

“Good.” He lucks up at the house, tone accomplished, as though he’s checked off another task on his to-do list. He slips out of the car and into the night, and you follow him. The cool wind batters at you, burns the broken skin at the side of your head, and you stop for a moment to watch him walk, head down, hands in his pockets, silhouetted in the grand light of Arrow House.

When you were younger, you made a promise to yourself that you’d live long enough to have your own place. You’d survive until you could create a home, where you weren’t alone but weren’t taken advantage of. Where no one yelled and threw things, where there was no such thing as saying something wrong, a sanctuary of warmth and light and quiet appreciation.

It was a child’s dream of paradise, and now, as an adult, you know that nothing is that simple. But, as he stops and turns, waiting for you to join him at the doorstep, you think that, maybe, you’re taking a step towards keeping that promise. Maybe you’re reaching out a hand to that young, desperate self, and showing her that there is kindness, and there is warmth, and there’s somewhere out there for her.

And that younger self smiles, knowing that though there are battles ahead, she has made it home.

Your eyes are closed as Tommy gently uses a washcloth to remove the blood from the side of your head. The pain throbs dully with each touch, but you somehow don’t mind it. There’s a raw, open gash underneath your hair that he drenched in alcohol a few minutes before. He’s quiet. You’re quiet. The bathroom you sit in is cool and the light is soft on your eyelids.

You’ve seen him dream at night. His closed eyes move with nightmares, his jaw clenches, his body tenses, trembles, sometimes jolts as though in pain. All this time, and you haven’t been brave enough to ask. All this time, and you haven’t known how to ask him to talk about that wound without reopening it. Now, though, as he cleans the blood from your neck, you think, maybe the air is stable enough. Maybe the softness is steady enough.

“You have nightmares,” you say quietly. “You never talk about them.”

“No. I don’t.” He doesn’t seem to want further questions, asking you to allow the conversation to end there.

“Sometimes you talk in your sleep. Did you know that?” You keep your eyes closed.

“Grace never told me.”

“You do. It’s always indistinct. I catch names, sometimes. Someone called Danny, or Freddie. Sometimes you count. You’re quiet, but I can hear it in your voice. You’re scared. I’m never sure if waking you up would help or not, so I stay quiet, let you ride it out.”

He doesn’t respond. You open your eyes to find his face a little paler than usual, his eyes covered in a momentary, hazy film that slowly melts away like ice. He blinks, and gives you a small nod.

“I’m not proud. It’s no treat to relive it.” He goes back to cleaning your blood, his hand steady, his voice the same. “I get stuck in the mud again.”

“I can help,” you say quietly. “I’m not going to let you get trapped in your own head because of me. I will never let you fall apart.”

His jaw tightens, then relaxes. “I’ll tell you. Only if you promise not to ask about it again.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes again, waiting, giving him the space to take his time.

“I was the sergeant major of the 179th Tunneling Brigade. I spent most of my time fighting underground. Won medals for surviving what others couldn’t.” His voice flattens out, low and even, emotionless. “What else do you want to know?”

“You were… underground?”

There’s a pause before he responds. “Yes. It was small. The cold bit our feet because shoes weren’t allowed and we couldn’t drain the water. The light came from candles that wouldn’t stay lit. Sometimes the air got thin. Sometimes the canaries and rats died before us.”

You stay as still as you can, as quiet as you can, unwilling to break the sacred silence around you as his words settle around you. “And the nightmares?”

“A cave-in. We could hear the Germans digging above us. They sent word to get underneath them and set up enough charge to stop them getting to our trenches. Maybe it was an accident or maybe they heard us. All I know is their mines went off before ours did. I felt it before I heard it and—” He pauses and clears his throat, then continues, tone a little softer, a little more worried. “Then the ground shook and fell to bury us in a grave we’d dug for ourselves. It scared me more to realize I was alive than thinking I was dead. I remember trying to get air, get some of the weight off me and thinking: Fuck. Alive. I have to keep going. I have to get out. Five of us found a space large enough to get some air. I never heard about the rest of them”

It seems he had holds it in, grappling with the memories that swirl around his mind, intoxicating and bewitching, and, once you ask, it’s all he can do to stop it from spilling out. There’s a weight on his shoulders that never lets up, and he stays quiet about it, never complaining, never even mentioning it. You squeeze your eyes, kaleidoscope patterns of color sparking on your eyelids, and think you should’ve asked him sooner.

“How did you get out?” You match his tone with a steady, quiet voice.

“We dug up for a day and a half till the fixed air took our consciousness. Even before then the five of us accepted we would never see the sun. Some men dug down and got three of us out. There was another still alive underneath. His legs had broken and tangled in the apparatus for clay kicking. One of my comrades stayed down with him. The roof collapsed. Their corpses will never be recovered.”

He sounds tired. The words he speaks seem to barely leave his throat, as though the low growl of them remains confined to his vocal cords. Finality rings from his voice like an order, or perhaps a plea. He seems to beg you, in his own silent way, not to ask for more. You can only be so selfish, so brazen in how much you push him to fake steadiness. Any further now and his façade would melt fully away. Thomas Shelby came home from war to test how many times he could ignore the broken parts of him till they shattered, and this conversation has forced him to see the cracks.

“That’s what you dream about. The cave in. The ones you left behind.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes the tunnel gets broken through and we have to fight and kill and leave the bodies to rot. Sometimes all it is is the sound of picks and shovels at the other end of the tunnel, coming towards us, and the only thing to do is wait.” His voice grows emptier, hollowed out, and you open your eyes to look up at him.

“Tommy,” you say quietly. “Look at me.”

He does as you ask, haunted blue eyes searching for something in you that you’re not sure you have.

“You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t hurt you.” You watch his hand as it shifts from steadiness to trembling, then back to steadiness again. “I can hear in your voice that you’re faking it to protect me. It’s okay. I’m not going to leave you if you’re hurt. I am, too. Remember our promise?”

He nods blankly. “Yes. I do.”

Like a horse to water, you try to coax him to step out of the darkness and bring the parts of him he hides into the light. You know he’ll refuse. You know he’ll consider it, over and over, and then back away. Or, maybe, you’ll get lucky, and some trust will glow like an ember, and you’ll see him lay himself down in front of you and show you who he is.

“You still feel like a soldier, don’t you?” Your tone is slightly sad.

He nods again, curtly, but his eyes are almost sleepy, exhausted by the task of remembering and acknowledging.

“Have you been trying to forget?”

Another nod. He looks like a boy, spooked late at night by some horror story spoken by his friend, eyes glassy and tired but, underneath, so, so afraid. The hand that holds the bloody cloth lifts and presses against his chest, over his heart, protective.

“You wanna know what I do? With the memories that are too big for my body?”

His eyes flick down to you, acknowledging, giving permission.

“I sort of… sit with them. I do it alone, and I give myself time. Sometimes I panic and can’t breathe, and sometimes I fall out of myself, like I’m not quite me, but not anyone else, either. But, always, after I think about it, after I let it take me over, I can call it back without having such a strong reaction.” Slowly, you stand from your seat and turn to face him. “It hurts. I’ll be the first to admit it. It’s the most painful thing I’ve ever done, worse than when it happened the first time. But after… It's catharsis. It’s being reborn. And you’re exhausted, but you survived it, and you can do it again.”

His eyes latch onto yours, helpless, and you reach up to caress his cheek. Slowly, he caves to you, his eyes closing.

“And you just did it. You called back a ghost, faced it, and now, here you are.” You bring him closer to you, pressing your forehead against his. “You survived, Tommy. You survived, and I survived, and there’s something to that. There’s something to the fact that we never deserved what happened, and yet, we’re still alone, together. And now I know that I need to wake you when you have nightmares.”

He releases a slow breath. You close your eyes, your thumb tracing over his cheekbone.

“We’re gonna be okay. I think you’re right. I think we’re meant to take care of each other. You’ll teach me how to let you help me. I’ll teach you how to love again.”

He swallows hard, and you feel a faint tremble run through him, subtle, barely there. You reach up with your other hand and take the cloth from him, setting it down on the counter, and then take his hand. You feel your heart settle into your body, and you feel something you haven’t felt in a long, long time.

Hello love, your invincible, hopeful friend. For a moment, you forget where you are, and you squeeze his hand and start timing your breathing to his. You have so many words to speak, so much bubbling up in you, but you hold your cliches and just stand with him, waiting out the memories, holding him quietly. He squeezes back, and you smile faintly.

“There you are.” You drop your hand from his cheek, open your eyes, and step back.

He watches you, eyes soft, then looks away. “You were right.”

“I was?” You blink, surprised. “About what?”

“It’s better, after, if you… sit with it, like you said.” He lets go of your hand, picks up the cloth, and walks casually to the door. “Won’t be doing it alone. I need you with me.”

“Apparently I’ll be here.” You follow him. “I live here now.”

He shakes his head, and you catch a small smile on his lips. “Not yet. That could change.”

You chuckle. “You would never.”

“I would never,” he agrees.

#only the wild ones #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaker blinders fandom #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders fanfic

364 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Note

Love the smart yandere who’s manipulative but not abusive. It really breaks my heart a little bit seeing fics tag as “yandere” despite the yandere in question only being straight up abusive psychopath with little to no actually love involved.

But quick question on your Smart Yan. How would they react if reader has the uncanny ability to sense people’s fakeness but instead of being mad, the reader wants to know the real him without any acting? Reader wants to keep it real between them and actually form a semi-normal relationship with him (wether platonic or romantic is unknown for now)

The Yandere genre is a spectrum (imo it just has to be unhealthy since that’s what it means in JP) but yeah seeing the abusive ones trigger me a whole ton. I write yanderes to feel better about my trauma and somewhat see the bright side of the things that happened so I don’t get how or relate to those writers that do it 😭 but if it makes em happy and they write proper trigger warnings then I have no right to say that they should stop.

Smart! Yan would love to have an equally if not more insightful partner. You complement each-other in the way that you two have no challenge with reading people. Except you chose the path of kindness and respect while they chose mind-games and manipulation. People from the outside just don’t get how the two of you and your brains work, speaking of complicated hypotheticals to downright ‘stupid’ ones that go on for hours and hours with no sign of stopping.

I feel like in this scenario smart yan! could turn it as a challenge to see how long it’d take to let your guard down and let themselves into the deepest crevices of your mind. You’re like the mariana trench to their thalasophillia. A place yet to be discovered, something that they can lay claim to. It is an extra challenge however to do it all without a mask or façade they can disassociate with if things go wrong. And boy do they not want things to go wrong with you at all.

I feel like to them, it doesn’t matter if you like/love someone else, are dating/married. They just want full, uninhibited, and exclusive access to that wrinkly brain of yours. They don’t even see anyone else as competition because everyone else is just so easy to decipher unlike you.

It’s just sad to see you avoiding them at times or choosing another person’s presence in stead of theirs.

But they know you’ll come to them in the end.

It’s inevitable.

You don’t really think you can beat them at their own game, did you?

#they’re a huge marvel fan point blank #they’ve probably written several detailed papers on how each of the characters were written and how their brain works #to the minute detail of their mannerisms #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #smart yandere #smart yan #yanderecore #yancore #yan core #yandere nerd #tw yandere

196 notes · View notes

iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

Text

Arcana Brainrot: Blog Rules, Posting Schedule, Masterlists, Playlist, & Requests/Mini prompts Guidelines

Come chat on the Discord server!

Current MC ask game

INBOX STATUS: closed

Thursdays: open all day to all requests! All other days: closed to requests, open for everything else!

BLOG RULES:

Please read request guidelines (below the masterlists) and check if requests are open before sending one! Requests periodically open for a 24-hour window announced in advance. If you specifically want yours to be written as a mini- or full- sized prompt, feel free to specify! I do my best to write what I can, but I can't guarantee all requests will get written :) Comments and feedback are always welcome!

I don't think it needs to be said but hate isn't welcome here. Of any kind.

Please also keep in mind that this blog is PG-13, so whatever comments you make on it will likely be seen by minors. I take their safety seriously, so if there's anything grossly X rated in the comments (I don't see why there should be) I will delete it. If you continue to comment things like that you will be blocked :)

With my older brother rant out of the way, please enjoy the results of me trying to cope with an endless Vesuvian obsession :D

Posting Schedule

Saturdays: headcanons! Sundays: answering asks (& maybe some rambles?) Mondays: headcanons! Tuesdays: answering asks (& maybe some shitposts?) Wednesdays: Vesuvia Weekly Thursdays & Fridays: rest

MASTERLISTS: oldest to newest, I'll do my best to update as I post.

All quotes for Arcana characters sent in have this tag: #arcana brainrot quote collection

Because of the link limit for posts, you can find the masterlist for all full headcanons below:

The Arcana HCs : Brainrot's Masterlist

The Arcana HCs : Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 2

And here is the masterlist for all my mini-prompts, answered ask arcana style:

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot’s Masterlist, Pt 2

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 3

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 4

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 5

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 6

A masterlist for drabbles, with an explanation at the top for how they work!

The Arcana Drabbles: Explanation and Masterlist

All the recipes posted by the originals devs from the Arcana universe, with pictures of my own creation attempts and descriptions of how it went!

The Arcana Food

Worldbuilding/character analysis essays ^.^ (not a comprehensive list atm, unfortunately)

The Arcana Essays: Brainrot's Masterlist

Finally got around to fleshing out my self-insert enough to make him a proper MC/ OC!

Bainrot's self-insert MC (Drue)

Vesuviella: my first fanfic. don't get your hopes up (updated sporadically)

Summary: Julian decided to write his own version of Cinderella to be performed in the Community Theatre, and then recruited MC to help him cast the rest of the M6 in the leading roles. Chaos ensues. (There is no determined love interest, MC is friends with the M6 and M6 are all thirsty for MC.)

Vesuviella: All Parts

Arcana Brainrot Playlist: a compilation of all character song suggestions in one Spotify playlist, kept up to date!

Arcana Brainrot Playlist (Spotify)

Arcana Brainrot Playlist (YouTube)

REQUEST GUIDELINES

Generally, I pick from what's in my asks and write what sparks inspiration. If there's an idea you'd really like to see written, you're welcome to message me directly about it! ^.^

I don't write about toxic/abusive relationships or dynamics between MC and the M6 (I get the appeal, I'm not judging, but it's not for me)

I don't write for M6 x M6 ships - side character ships are on the table, though!

All of my work is PG-13. (yes to romantic/sensual themes and references to painful experiences, no to explicit matter or glorified violence/pain/death/toxicity)

I'm willing to do research for topics I'm not familiar with, but there are plenty of things I can't write about just because I haven't lived it and I know an hour of research wouldn't be enough to be accurate (and respecting other people's experiences is important)

I am unfortunately very familiar with what it's like to have trauma/mental illnesses. That said, while I'm very happy to explore how that impacts MC and their relationships, there are some prompts I may take a very long time to do or just not write at all because they would mess me up

In general, keeping the prompt relatively short (a sentence to a paragraph) helps me organize them better! The same goes for asks sent with a visible blog - if I have questions, I can reach out to you for more details! ^.^

Both my asks and messages are open because I love hearing from new people! If you abuse that you will be blocked :)

All of the above points have reasons for them, and are therefore subject to change. If you have an idea that you'd really like to see and you're not sure about, just message me! I can either tell you why I can't do it or I can make an exception depending on the case

RELEVANT FANDOM HAPPENINGS

(I don't do drama on my page, but these are some posts that provide transparency and accountability for some of the things I've been caught up in)

To the Arcana Fandom, From Brainrot

An update on Rai/Kip

325 notes · View notes

dark-type-appreciator · 2 months

Text

Intro post! :3

Hello! Like my description says, I'm Liam! I'm 16 and I found this website a while back and decided to finally make an account!!! I really like dark type pokemon (bet you could guess that XD), and I'm always open to talk about them! I also really like other catmons ^w^ curse of being a warrior skitties fan I guess...

I also like drawing, warrior skitties, and roleplaying! I have other interests but those are my main ones! I play games sometimes, but I'm not very good at them x_x

I'm not really a pokemon trainer… I only have one pokemon haha! His name is Goldie, and he's a purrloin! He's kind of a cranky old man but he loves me!

umm, what else? I get confused sometimes, please be patient, I'm autistic (and other things). Same goes the other way around!! If u need me to rephrase something, please tell me! Also i misspell things a lot, auto correct is my best friend. Hopefully its not too bad!

Oh! Also I am a furry! :3 I almost forgot to mention that asjhdjahs

Here's my pokesona!

not the best reference, it's kinda old... Maybe I'll redo it someday!

Also- if we're friends, pls tag any bug types!… I have a really bad phobia of them, and I don't wanna see them at all. Thank you!!!

also- look look look!!

They're friends.. :3

[OOC under the cut]

Hello! Actias/moth (@act11as) here with a new blog! On a different account! Wowie! Follows will come from here, of course! Once again, general unreality warning! Out of character posts will be green, and tagged as #ooc and #Moth's yapping to avoid confusion.

Dark themes will be explored on this blog, such as past abuse and neglect, general mental illnesses, dysfunctional family dynamics, emotional and psychological abuse, as well as (witnessed) domestic abuse.

Everything will be tagged (and please tell me if I missed something!) But please be safe when interacting!

These themes will not always be present, and Liam's blog will usually stay lighthearted. Still, it's good to keep in mind!

Boundaries, and so on!

No NSFW or suggestive things! Both the muse and mod are minors. Don't be a fuckin' weirdo. *Almost any kind of blog is allowed to interact! Sentient Pokemon, Eeby Deebies, Evil teams, fallers, etc! *Self-Insert fallers, please do not interact. I personally cannot handle these kinds of blogs. Self-insert ocs are fine, but the idea of a real person on rotomblr being isekaid into Pokémon is not. (Liam will likely not believe you for a while- unless he has significant reason to. He'll think it's a roleplayer, otherkin, or something like that. He will be willing to play along though!) In-Character Anon hate is allowed! Feel free to bully him, but remember that I'm not obligated to answer everything! Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are off currently! You may be able to convince him to turn it on! Mystery Gifts are closed! Though if this and Pelipper mail were to open, this one is preferred! Musharna mail, and Musharna malice are always on! Magic anons are off.

Organizational Tags! (HOW DID I FORGET FOR SO LONG)

Liam Chatters - General post tag! As long as he's saying something in the text portion, it'll be tagged. Reblog! ^w^ - Reblog tag. Pretty self explanatory Future Sight (queue) - Queued posts tag! Again pretty self explanatory. Liam used Doodle! - Art tag! Liam's art will be tagged as this, for those who want to see it. Foresight - Out of character tag. It marks posts that will potentially be important in the future. This can range from his opinions on things to heavy lore posts! Good tag to read through if you think you're missing something!

Friend Tags! (Tags for friends!)

#Tari mention - tag for Tari from @/pokemoncryptids #faith is friending - tag for Faith from @/faithispokemoning

ONGOING ARCS:

Mask Off Arc - [summary will come after it ends]

PAST ARCS/EVENTS:

#Lucy Strikes! - One of Liam's friends stole his phone while they were supposed to be visiting. General warnings for bullying.

Blocklist:

These are blogs Liam has blocked in-character! usually for lore reasons! these are not blogs that have personally been blocked, feel free to interact on anon if you're on this list!

@/tinkatinktrain

@/sound-type-advocate

#// also important note: you don't actually have to tag bug types. that's just on there for character reasons. mod loves bugs!!#Liam chatters #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #rotumblr #rotomblr #pokeblogging #intro post #pinned #Moth's yapping

46 notes · View notes

14dayswithyou · 1 year

Note

What would happen if Angel were to marry Ren/[REDACTED], but through being married Angel were to become incredibly abusive, and kinda following into the foot steps of Ren/[REDACTED] father, and treating him like Ichiko, including their kids? Would he put up with it still being incredibly patient an try to seek help, or maybe just try to reset the whole story/game back to day 1, and try different personas to try not to frick up Angel?? (This questions been on my mind lately!!)

✦゜ANSWERED: As disturbing and heartbreaking as it is, Ren would honestly still stay with Angel even after they start behaving like his father T_T

⚠️ If you haven't blocked them already, please be mindful of the cw tags below before proceeding!!

While he is extremely patient when it comes to you, Ren also wants your unconditional love and attention just as much. Even if it means going through the same harrowing abuse he endured as a child, they'd willing do it all again if it meant only having you all to himself. He wants your undivided attention, he wants you to be just as obsessed and in love as he is, and he wants you to only interact with him (as opposed to Leon, Violet, Moth, etc.).

But in saying that; Ren would also know firsthand what it's like to have a parent neglect and mistreat you — so if he saw the exact same thing happening with his own children, then he'd honestly just find a way to let them escape without you knowing (because obviously if you were anything like his father, you wouldn't care about the whereabouts of your children). Ren might go to his best friend River for help, relocate your kids to another safe place (since he can literally buy another house if necessary), or ultimately try and dissuade from being such a monster to your children. Ren isn't like his mother Ichika; he won't sit by and ignore his own children out of fear — because he doesn't fear you in the first place.

But Ren does put you before everyone else — even himself. Which is why he's willing to re-experience all the traumatic abuse you give him.

Ultimately though, I don't condone that kind of abusive behaviour or actions — so if anyone is considering making their Angel anything like Taylor (or Ichika to some degree), please do not interact with me or this blog >_<

#cw abusive behaviour #cw emotional abuse #cw child neglect #cw unhealthy relationships #💌 — answered.#💖 — about ren.#💖 — about [SPOILERS].#💖 — 14 days with queue.#If you need to; please ask me to tag this as anything else!! >.<

179 notes · View notes

6lostgirl6 · 8 months

Text

Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean Winchester

TW: Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Hints of Physical Abuse, Hints of Verbal Abuse, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Isolation And Spanking As Punishment, Cursing, Manipulation. A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’s a physical lover, and he doesn’t give two fucks about PDA. He’ll kiss and touch you whenever and wherever he likes. He always gives you heated, passionate kisses while grasping all over your body and pressing you up against him. When he’s really affected, he’ll growl while kissing you, and his eyes will flash black on occasion.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very messy. Demon Dean, at this point, is a malevolent being and will resort to more grotesque methods when it comes to his darling. Even if it means killing innocent people who look at you the wrong way or dare touch you, well, try. He’ll break the person’s bones before they even lay a finger on you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Depending on how you react to the situation, his treatment of you varies. If you behave, he'll treat you good by his definition. However, if you react badly, he's going to not react well. Yes, he’ll mock you, because we need to remember that he may love you, but that doesn't change his nature. He has a cruel sense of humor.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He’ll make you come with him on his killing sprees. You’re not a fan of blood; that’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it, because that’s all you’re ever going to see besides him. Blood and carnage.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Demon Dean still has some of his old traits from when he was human. He doesn't like expressing his emotions until he trusts you enough. Which would take a long time. However, when he finally trusts you, he’ll be more open about his feelings for you. He still keeps things close to his chest, though he might never speak with you about it.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Oh, he’s pissed.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No, your relationship isn't a game to him. But getting you to fall in love with him will be like a game, and he'll triumph. It’s only a matter of time. Demon Dean wouldn't like seeing you try to escape; it would automatically anger him. He’ll lash out at you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with him would be your fights with him. He's scary when he’s angry, especially when it's towards you. He’ll practically scream in your face and manhandle you. Another thing would be him forcing you to see his killing sprees. He doesn't trust you enough to leave you on your own, so you'll have to witness his brutality.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

When it comes to your future with him, you’re stuck with him, and not even death would separate you. He’ll secretly try to uncover a way to turn you into a demon. You'll be isolated from hunters; demons wouldn't dare approach you. He’s the only thing you’ll ever need; nobody else can help you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Extremely, however, it’s not because he’s insecure; you simply belong to him and are completely off-limits. Coping, what’s that? He’s going to lash out in a violent way at the person attempting to flirt with you. He left people bloodied to a pulp on the floor before, and he has done worse.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

It’s discrete, but he’s a little softer around you, and he would let you get away with small things that he wouldn’t tolerate if it were another person. As a demon, he’s not afraid to show you how deep his love runs for you. He’s clingy and always has a hand grabbing you somewhere. He’s very possessive, and he tends to keep you to himself.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

When it comes to demon dean, there is no time for courting or lightly approaching you about his feelings. When he kidnapped you, there were no romantic gestures or heartfelt confessions; you simply belonged to him, and you need to get used to it.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Of course, Dean treats you differently compared to others. He’s less rough around the edge, and he does try to control his temper better around you. You’re his, and he doesn’t mistreat what belongs to him.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Depending on what you do, however, he'll simply tie you to the bedpost and keep you there until you learn your lesson. He would never intentionally hurt you, but he will force you over your lap and smack your ass until you’re begging for forgiveness. Trust me, he wouldn’t make it fun for you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

The better question is: how many rights would he allow you to have? All you need to do around him is eat, sleep, and look pretty for him. Misbehave, and you’re going to be chained to the bed again.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He will have zero patience with you, so you better behave for your own sake. He's not afraid of punishing you, however he sees fit, because you didn’t listen to him or try to escape. Therefore, try not to upset him too much.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, he would never move on. If you died or were killed, his rampage would be talked about in Hell for centuries. If you manage to escape, it won’t last long. He’s going to get you back, whatever it takes, so enjoy the freedom while it lasts.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Ha! Hell no. However, after being cured, he will feel horrible for how he treated you. He’ll feel ashamed that his darker feelings for you were brought to light. He really does love you, but the demonic side of him has horrible ways of showing it.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His transformation into a demon allowed his yandere tendencies to be brought to the surface. He doesn’t have to hold back his urges anymore, and why would he want to?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Of course he doesn’t like it; he prefers you being obedient and rather docile. He would never admit this, but he would want you to be happy with him, even as a demon. If you try avoiding him, he’ll keep bugging you and forcing you to talk to him. He lacks patience, so your screams and cries will only make him angrier the longer you keep having tantrums.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Demon Dean would never hurt you intentionally, especially by abusing you to make you cooperate. Sure, when he lashes out, there may be a few accidents, but that’s all they are. Accidents.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There are two things you could use: his killing urges and/or feeding into his ego. If you want to play the waiting game, you would have to gain his trust enough to allow you to be out of his sight. Simply pretending to love him won’t be enough because he’ll see right through you. When he goes on his killing sprees, leaving you behind for once will be your chance and only chance to escape. You better protect yourself; he will find you.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No matter how much he cares about you, he will hurt your feelings at times, especially when he flirts with other women in front of you. When he’s extremely angry or has the itching need to kill something, you need to stay out of his way. He will lash out at you with hurtful words and potential bruises.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Demon Dean cares about you despite who he is, and he doesn’t like upsetting you. You’re not much fun with tears in your eyes. As a demon, you’re the only one that makes him feel things—feelings he used to hide within when he was human. Anyway, he would go to the ultimate length to win you over. He’s not going to beg on his knees for your love, but he’ll show you how much he worships you in his own way. You want him to kill someone and bring you their head? He'll do it.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

After Dean became a demon and left with Crowley, he didn’t take you with him at the time, no matter how much he wanted to. However, you’ve never left his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to drink your sweet voice away. You haunted him for months until he finally snapped and came after you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If Dean was never cured or you never managed a way to escape from him, he’ll find a way to break you and make you depend solely on him. Make you finally see that he is the only thing that would kill to keep you safe. One way or another, he’ll make you fall for him.

Taglist: Comment to be added/removed!!

@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @huntressandlioness1 @wraith-posts @schizonephilim

319 notes · View notes

mistypsych · 1 year

Text

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 7

/ yoongi / suga / agust d

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after not writing anything at all. Please keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty at times. Comments and thoughts are well appreciated. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, state your thoughts for me to post up and have me add you to the tag list!

You blinked very fast. Your thoughts were all over the place. Keeping your gaze on the KCIA badge you took a deep breath and mumbled “Yea… it does look like we need to talk…” trying to gather yourself, you turned to face the kind eyed man.

This was the moment he should start explaining, because you sure as hell had no idea what the actual fuck was going on.

He let out a long, quiet sigh, keeping his eyes on the road. “So… I am well aware you normally would not have anything to do with a gang, if it wasn’t for your reckless friend…” he started. “But… our target isn’t really the whole group. I mean yea, they are dangerous, cause some havoc but… they are also a well know danger… they keep the product they sell clean and such… yes it is bad, but how to say it? A evil you know is better than anything unknown and out of control right?”.

You tried to follow his logic, one questing popping into your head - then why was he even there? As if reading your mind he explained “We are fishing for the police… we have known the department has gotten very dirty in the recent years… and we are collecting enough evidence to be sure to take that scum down…” he turned his eyes to the road again waiting for you to slowly take in the information he has dropped on you.

You shake your head a bit and then look up as if asking the universe why the fuck this is all happening. “So… let me guess… my fiancé happens to be on the list…”. Jimin sighed and slowly nodded his head, clicking his tongue he looked at you for a second. “Listen… I know this is all a lot to take in… especially that your fiancé is an absolute dick… but… I assume you’d have nothing against putting his ass behind bars right?”.

You look at the man sitting next to you and try to think of an answer. In all honesty you would gladly have Hobi suffer since you found out not only is he dirty but also a cheater. The fact you slept with Agust-D did not seem like proper justice for the fact that asshole ruined all those years of your life. But having him locked up seemed like some kind of karma.

“Yea… I would not mind that at all…” you paused for a while and then asked “So… let me take a guess. You would love to have a spy in me huh?”. Jimin cleared his throat quietly, clearly not expecting you to be this blunt. “I won’t lie… it would probably make things easier… I believe you could fish out some important intel for us…”

Without much hesitation you say “Ok. Count me in then, as long as me and my friend Jungkook are not dragged into whatever consequences this shitshow brings…” the hazy eyed man slightly looks at you and nods “Of course… you will be my informant so I will make sure your demands are met…” you roll your eyes a bit not enjoying the fact once again you have been put in a peculiar spot.

You asked to be dropped off a couple of blocks before your building. Your neighborhood was safe enough for you to walk back and you sure as hell would not wan’t Hoseok seeing you get dropped off by Jimin.

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

You will have to lie, pretend and play games with Hobi. It was not something you ever would see yourself doing but given the circumstances, you did not have many options in order to receive some sort of justice for yourself. The worst part being that you had to pretend you have no idea about what he did and that you are still oh so blindly in love with him, when in reality all you wanted is to beat him into a pulp for wasting all those important years of your life.

Walking in slowly into your apartment you gently closed the doors hoping that if your fiancé was there you would not wake him up. Looking around you saw his jacket and sighed. Luck was not on your side. It seemed that you were gonna have to deal with his company sooner then later.

You made your way passed the opened bedroom doors, making sure to be quiet and to get you the chance to sleep on the couch, but no, you had to be shit outta luck. “Y/N? Hun? That you?” you swore in your head and barely controlled your impulse to punch the wall. Silently clearing your throat you said “Yea… it’s me… I went out with Kookie and some other coworkers… since you said you would be home late again…” you lied threw your teeth.

A sound of the bed covers rustling hit your ears. You knew he was getting up, so you put your best pretend happy tipsy face on. Right then you saw him stand in the door and lean on the frame with a slightly sleepy face. He smiled at you and came up taking your hand in his. “Mmm… I’m sorry I am having to work so much lately babe…” you nodded your head afraid that if you spoke that moment he would pick up your pure rage.

After a second you gathered yourself “It’s fine, we both have jobs that can occupy us at times…” wrapping his arms around you he kissed your shoulder “What did I do to deserve such a woman?” you forced a giggle. “Can I make it up to you Y/N? Hmmm?” he hummed in a low voice pulling at your waistband. You laughed lightly and gave him a peck in the nose saying “we can discuss that after I take a shower and you make breakfast.”

He mumbled slightly disappointed but made his way to the kitchen, you on the other hand got into the bathroom. You stood there looking at your reflection in the big mirror questioning all your life decisions and if you should have ever moved to Korea. You turned on the water for it to warm up. You needed a hot shower to was off all the strain from your muscles.

Suddenly your phone rang causing you to jump up. Looking at the screen you could see a no caller ID show up. Normally you would ignore such a call but something in you gave you a hunch. Picking up the phone you quietly answered. “Hello?” you heard a deep sigh on the other side of the line and then the well know gravely voice “Didn’t take you would be the type to sneak out at dawn?” your heart clenched and then started beating like crazy. You could feel your body getting tense.

“And I wouldn’t think you’d be the type to be bothered by such a thing… I would think you’d appreciate it…” he chuckled, you could almost see him shaking his head in amusement “Nah… I was thinking of round two for breakfast…” you sigh grabbing the tip of your nose. This was all one big mess. “I have a fiancé…” you muttered hoping this would salve it and make him cancel the call, but instead he laughed loudly “Oh… I know you do and I ain’t bothered babe, because I know now when he fucks you, you’ll be thinking of me and all I can do to you”. His words rendered you speechless “Mmm just what I thought. You’ll be coming back for more Y/N and oh I will give it to you…” and at that he ended the call.

Standing there and looking at your cellphone you were trying collect yourself. This fucking cocky bastard was so sure you’d be coming back to him. “You wish… we will see who’s left begging…”

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @nochook @kootieful @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @danielle143 @llallaaa @idkjustlovingbts @darcyw16 @missusally-blog @honsoolgloss @nochuel @kaitieskidmore1 @starrlo0ver @geek-lara-nerd @jwnghyuns @xyahrinx @acquiescence804

160 notes · View notes

yukidragon · 2 years

Note

Have you theorised why Ian cheated? It was long distance when he did so and he called them right away so it looks like he still loved Y/N so do you think it was a drunk thing or more like he for 2 seconds he got the idea in his head that he did want to "satisfy his manhood" since he's only been with one person and immediately regretted it.

I have actually. I’ve mentioned it a couple times in past headcanon posts as my thoughts about it evolved, but I don’t mind going over it again. Heck, your ask is a good excuse to make a post that’s exclusively about the topic of Ian and his relationship with the MC.

For the most part I’m going to speak in general terms for why Ian might have cheated that can apply to all kinds of MCs, and not just my specific version, Alice. Ultimately, I don’t think it mattered what type of person the MC was - Ian cheated for reasons that were entirely his own... and ultimately selfish. I will touch on a few extra headcanons that strictly apply to Ian/Alice’s relationship and how it affects Sunshine in Hell at the end though.

I’ll be posting some artwork that used to be on Jambeebot/Sauce’s public twitter before it went down for some extra tidbits of information, and linking to the official twitter when relevant. As a reminder, please do not repost any private artwork posted on the SnaccPop Studio Patreon. Doing so is harmful to the team and their livelihood. Instead, please consider joining as a patron, contributing to the Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack kickstarter, or just spreading the word about the game to other interested adults.

As a reminder, this series is for Adults Only. Sex is going to be discussed in this post, and there might be a mature image or two for reference.

Also as a heads up, this post will discuss abusive/toxic relationships, past instances of child abuse, SA, and religious trauma. If you are not in the headspace to handle any of these topics, please feel free to give this post a skip.

Obligatory tag for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic before we get started. If you would like to be tagged in the next SDJ headcanon post, please let me know!

First, I want to address the theory that Ian was drunk, blackmailed, or otherwise did not consent to have sex with someone besides MC. Not only do I strongly believe that this is false, as there is evidence to suggest as such, I find this headcanon to be very... uncomfortable, to say the least.

If Ian did not willingly choose to have sex with someone, then he is the victim of SA.

The reason why Ian and MC broke up was because Ian had sex with someone else. If the only reason Ian had sex with someone else was because it was SA, that would mean that MC dumped the victim of SA instead of supporting him after a traumatic incident. MC would have blamed the victim of SA for suffering from SA. Even if we entertain the idea that Ian was too ashamed or didn’t understand it was SA at the time of the breakup, and as such MC had no idea that’s what happened, the victim of SA would have not only gone through the absolute violation that is SA, but lost his greatest source of love and emotional support as a result.

I am not comfortable with that narrative. At all.

Fortunately, it’s very unlikely to be the case, as Ian is taking all responsibility for his actions, as he himself stated in the demo. He did not blame his affair partner for what happened.

I’m going to try anyway. I’ve known you for how long now? I've known that…This is worse than anything we’ve been through. And it’s 100% my fault. But please…Don’t throw me out yet. Even if I deserve it…

There is also an older piece of art by Sauce that isn’t in the game or on the official twitter where Ian confessed to what he had done in a phone call immediately in the aftermath of his affair.

If Ian did not consent to have sex, then this picture changes into something very, very disturbing... well beyond the official warnings given on the subject.

[Romantic, Sexual, Emotional] Themes of manipulation, mind games, sexual consensual coercion, supernatural influence, soft dubious consent, and persuasive seduction.

Fortunately this picture shows Ian as lucid. He is upset and crying over what he did, but there’s no sign that he is in a compromised mental state where he can’t consent to sex.

I understand the reasoning behind making this sort of headcanon. I’ve seen it many times before, where a fan likes a character a lot, but feels uncomfortable towards one or more action that the character has taken. It can create a dissonance in the fan that needs to be resolved, and most often that takes the form of absolving the character of the blame of that questionable action, usually by making it the fault of someone else instead. That way, the character no longer has the trait that makes the fan uncomfortable, and it helps the fan no longer feel guilty for liking the character.

Liking flawed characters is not a sign that there’s anything wrong with you as a person. You can like aspects of a character but still disagree with certain things they’ve done or believed in. You are not tacitly approving of their flawed beliefs or wrongful actions by liking the character.

Everyone is flawed. Everyone has made mistakes. We are all imperfect, because we are all human. This mindset that a character can only be liked if they are absolved of all flaws is not only limiting when it comes to storytelling, it can be damaging, as it makes our own failings feel that much more unforgivable.

Redemption arcs can be pretty underrated, and I think that’s a shame. We shouldn’t be afraid of making mistakes. We should own up to them and learn healthy ways of making amends, or at least how to move on, heal, and grow into a better person.

I believe that Ian’s route in the game is going to be a redemption arc for him. For MC to reach a happy ending with him, Ian will have to truly make amends for betraying their trust. It won’t be easy, but redemption can be a beautiful thing. I eagerly look forward to seeing how Ian will do it and prove that he is truly remorseful and will never make such a mistake again.

Now that we’ve got that sorted, let’s consider the possible reasons why Ian chose to cheat.

First off, let’s start off with the facts that we do know about: Ian and MC are childhood friends who wound up in a relationship. MC was a stable figure in Ian’s life since they were children. The demo touches on a number of memories between them that mean a lot to both Ian and MC, including the afterlife mode.

The two have known each other a long time and know each other fairly well. However, as we’ve seen in the afterlife bonus story, Ian did keep secrets from MC. MC, by contrast, didn’t seem interested in hiding anything. These secrets, particularly whatever it was he hid so desperately under his bed, will probably come out during the game. The only thing we do know is that whatever he’s hiding, it’s not porn, as Sauce tweeted before their twitter was removed.

It’s unlikely that Ian is keeping secrets from MC for malicious reasons. Even when he cheated, he confessed right away rather than tried to hide it. He has a tendency to apologize, which even MC has commented on when describing him.

He was a nerd, and he was silly, and he was VERY apologetically himself, but…What we had was special.

This tendency to apologize and hide parts of himself appear to be the result of an abusive childhood at the hands of his mother. She is someone who not only forces her religious beliefs on her child, but stalks him and tries to control him and his actions.

“...My mom called me.” “Someone gave her our address…Or she might have had one of her friends watching. I don’t know…” “S-She…Uh…She says that…To live with someone out of…Wedlock…I-It’s a sin? And I’m going to hell?” “She said I’m only doing it to…To satisfy…My manhood…” “I-I’m not taking advantage of you by doing this…Am I?”

What’s unfortunate is that even as an adult, even though Ian is aware that what she is “just being mean” to him by planting these doubts in his head and saying such awful things to him, he still listens to her. He didn’t give his mother his new address when he moved, but he still hadn’t blocked her number despite knowing this until MC helped him do so in the episode.

Sadly, I suspect that Ian might have blocked his mother’s number in the past, only to unblock her later. This is purely headcanon on my part, but it’s not uncommon for victims of abuse to block their abuser, only to unblock them in a moment of weakness, especially if the abuser uses their flying monkeys to make the victim feel guilty about blocking them. It would seem that Ian’s mother has plenty of people on her side to do just that if they’re tracking Ian’s movements and reporting back to her about what he’s doing and where he’s going.

This drawing from Sauce’s deleted twitter is presumed by some fans (including myself) to be Ian’s mother. While any art not posted on the official twitter is questionable when it regards to canon, if this is Ian’s mother, and if she’s presumably talking to Ian, then she was verbally abusive and likely insulted Ian’s looks.

Ian was not just abused by his mother over his looks and other reason, but he was bullied by his peers as well.

The only one who seemed to want a friend was the kid who never seemed to have any. That was Ian. Ian wasn’t particularly loud and he didn’t have cool clothes or toys. He just kind of faded into the background. A lot of kids made fun of him.

Years worth of bullying, abuse, and lack of friends would have an effect on Ian. He feels the need to be apologetic and is painfully insecure. He struggles even to accept that MC would want someone like him as a romantic partner, as suggested by pictures like this one.

Scars like these run deep, and it takes a long time to heal. MC is used to comforting and reassuring Ian, as suggested by the afterlife episode. Ian is, in turn, used to relying on MC’s support. MC was the one who would ask Ian’s mother if they could have sleepovers when he was too afraid to do it himself, for example.

Ian has had MC’s support for a long time - since they attended first grade together, which is typically 6-7 years of age in the USA. While we don’t know the exact age of MC and the love interests in the present, it is implied they are all college graduates, which likely puts them in around their early to mid-20s. That’s quite a long time they’ve known each other, no doubt spending a lot of time in each other’s company on a regular basis up until Ian left to study abroad.

When Ian left, he suddenly had to go without his greatest source of love and support in order to pursue his dream of becoming an actor. He had to move across the country where no one knew him and handle everything entirely on his own.

With someone as insecure as Ian, no doubt that possibility was terrifying to him.

However, Ian had gone through a “glow up.” He was no longer that “gross” kid who faded into the background; he was successful and handsome. No doubt he attracted quite a bit of positive attention from his peers, which he probably wasn’t used to.

Back in his hometown, Ian had MC by his side a lot of the time. Anyone who wanted to romantically or sexually peruse him could easily be dismissed with his partner right beside him.

But what about when they’re not around to comfort him? Sure, Ian can call MC when he feels insecure, but they’re not there to hold him when he needs it... or help him blow off steam when he gets horny. Long distance relationships are hard, and they can leave a person feeling very lonely...

What I think happened was that Ian started making friends with people at the school. He was inexperienced with socializing with others due to being bullied, and likely didn’t realize when he was being flirted with unless they were overtly obvious about it. Given his low self-esteem, it would be easy for him to assume they’re just being friendly.

It feels good too. It’s hard for someone with so much insecurity to not want to soak up such positive attention. Chances are Ian wasn’t used to it from so many people who aren’t MC. Suddenly, MC is not unique in liking him or finding him attractive.

MC was always there for Ian, reliable and supportive. Ian knows them very well. Unfortunately, this can also breed complacency, which leads to taking their relationship for granted. By contrast, these new people in his life are different, unfamiliar, and exciting.

Staying in his hometown with the same people all his life, depending on someone else, abused by his mother, Ian likely had his growth stifled in many ways, but now he was taking charge of his life for himself. He was chasing his dream, growing more social, expressing himself more in a place far outside his mother’s reach.

It would be easy to make friends at his new school where so many people his age are interested in pursuing an acting career like he is. From there he could even find those who share some of his other interests, like fashion, video games, and manga. Despite his fears, Ian flourishes in his new environment. He opens up to more people and gets closer to them in a way that he never could with people in his hometown who knew him when he was an awkward child.

What harm would it do to just enjoy having more friends for once? In fact, MC would likely encourage Ian to make friends and spend time with them. He shouldn’t have to be lonely; he should be having fun too. Unfortunately, MC is not there and thus would be unable to see when any of Ian’s new “friends” start crossing lines... or how Ian unintentionally starts crossing them himself.

Ian doesn’t want anyone to know he and MC are sexually active in the afterlife episode. He claims it’s not a secret, but at the same time he worries about MC saying anything. Does he talk about being in a relationship at all? Does he tell people MC is his partner or just his childhood friend?

In my personal headcanon, I want to give Ian the benefit of the doubt on this point and say that he did make it clear to his new school chums that he was in a relationship. Unfortunately, for some people, a committed relationship is just seen as a challenge to overcome, something that adds a bit of spice to the chase, or they simply think cheating is fine as long as the person they’re cheating on never finds out.

What I think happened to Ian was like fable about the frog not realizing the water in the pot is getting hotter until its boiled alive.

It started innocently enough with attention and time spent with people who liked him. There was the occasional flirtatious remark that went over his head, but any overt propositions were turned down. It slowly escalates as Ian makes friends. He gets used to making himself vulnerable with other people besides MC, gets used to touching them, opens up more around them... and likely starts realizing they’re attractive too.

This is when his mother’s abuse would kick in. Those thoughts would hit Ian with guilt like a sack of bricks. Was his “manhood” leading him to sinful thoughts? No, no, it couldn’t be. He is only attracted to MC! He only loves MC! He only wants MC!

But that’s because MC was his only option before, isn’t it?

(Apologies for cropping this picture, but tumblr will nuke my blog from orbit if I showed what Ian and MC are doing on the left side of the image.)

Publicly posted pictures from Sauce’s now deleted tumblr might be questionable when it comes to canon, but I find they can be useful to give insight into general character motivations and for building headcanons. I find it very telling that Ian almost makes it sound like simply being with MC was his second choice when compared to his dreams of stardom...

Ian keeps these new thrilling feelings a secret like the thing hidden underneath his bed. He buries these thoughts, denies he even has them. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean those thoughts go away... especially not when he winds up spending time with the person or persons who spark these feelings in the first place.

Ian might try to avoid them to deny these feelings, but, oh, his avoiding them hurts their feelings, and he doesn’t want to do that! He apologizes, makes it up to them... and gets closer to them in spite of himself.

Things escalate from there. There’s more touching, more closeness, more deep intimate conversations deep into the night... some friendly cuddle time perhaps... Lines are crossed that he either denies were anything but innocent or perhaps he allows himself to believe them that they don’t mean anything even if they seem to mean more... Friends kiss sometimes too, right? The French greet each other with kisses in fact!

The French really know their kisses.

Eventually, one night when Ian is spending time with one of these friends, he finds himself really enjoying their company. He doesn’t feel lonely or miss MC as much. He barely thinks of MC, so distracted by his new exciting friend before him who makes him feel so good...

One thing leads to another. It’s a night of passion, of just feeling good and wanted.

After all, it’s not the first time Ian got swept up in his own pleasure when he was feeling horny. In his sex scene in the afterlife episode, he doesn’t let MC stop giving him a blowjob. First it’s by holding their head and giving puppy dog eyes, then he gets more forceful.

I wanted to look him in the eyes, but when I threatened to stop he only doubled down and gave a solid, deeper thrust. It was almost as if he was trying to remind me what I was to be doing.

Ian knows that he shouldn’t keep going if MC wants to stop, but, as he says...

“I-I’m so sorry I just…this is the first time you’ve gotten this far…and it really does feel good..”

It’s okay if he just apologizes, right? MC always forgives him when he wants things too much. It feels good and he doesn’t want to stop... MC will understand, they always do. They understand each other the most after all...

MC doesn’t even mind being used for sexual gratification after all.

It was like being used. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I didn’t care if he WAS using me.

Because Ian and MC love each other, it’s okay if Ian does what feels good, right? MC would want that for him. They won’t mind if they feel used. They won’t mind blacking out from lack of oxygen as long as he feels good. They won’t mind if he doesn’t reciprocate and gives them pleasure as long as he says how much he loves them and cuddles them afterwards.

They won’t mind if Ian thinks of himself first.

Then the post-nut clarity hits.

Ian might have convinced himself everything up until this point meant nothing when high off of hormones and attention, but after the excitement fades, the person in bed with him isn’t his partner. Maybe they’ll cuddle him, but they won’t say, “I love you.” He doesn’t mean that much to them. They’re not MC.

There’s nothing to justify what Ian did or distract him from the consequences - he cheated. He betrayed his partner for a cheap thrill.

There is no way to soften what Ian did. Even if he might not be religious like his mother, cheating is a sin far, far worse than simply having sex before marriage. It’s one of the big top ten sins!

It’s just like his mother told him - Ian was a sinful man who just wanted to satisfy his manhood with sex.

Ian can’t handle it, any of it. He immediately calls up MC to confess. It’s the only way to fix this. They’ll forgive him, they’ll understand. They forgive his mistakes. They know him. They’ll understand he didn’t mean it. They have to. It’s the only way he can live with himself.

Not even confessing his sins can stop his betrayal from scarring MC and destroying their self-esteem along with their relationship.

In the present, Ian is trying everything he can to get MC to forgive him. Due to MC’s money issues, he likely pays for half (or more) of the rent as a means of making amends for what he did, even if they’re broken up now. MC is a cheapskate who has to rely on cheap thrift store goods and borrowed or stolen clothes from their ex who hurt them.

Maybe that’s why Ian believes that getting a new job, one that likely offers fame and money, will somehow fix what he did. He has money and can buy a lot of video games, systems, and anime merch. His wallet is thick enough for MC to mistake his 8-inch erection for it, which suggests it’s full of money. He seems like he has enough money to spend on apologies too.

What’s worse is that Ian’s betrayal, and maybe even their relationship altogether, did severe damage to MC’s self-esteem.

When Jack shows up, MC resists the idea that they feel love towards him. While they are concerned about what Jack is and whether or not he’s real, they seem more deterred by the feeling that they don’t deserve the attention of someone who loves them.

I don’t feel like I really deserve that kind of attention…You know? It doesn’t feel natural to have somebody just…Ask you to consider that.

MC also doesn’t want to use Jack as an emotional crutch. Perhaps because they felt like they were once used that way by someone...

I feel for him...But something about this is too good. I won’t use him as a bandage, to cover up the feelings I don’t want to feel.

The only romantic relationship MC ever had was with Ian. They are still suffering from heartache by the time Jack shows up. They’ll turn Nick down regardless of whether or not they’ll agree to get in a relationship with Jack.

MC trusted Ian. They loved Ian. They wanted to be with him forever. Then Ian betrayed that promise of forever for a night of cheap lust. Maybe that was enough to destroy MC’s self-esteem to this degree, but I suspect their relationship wasn’t really all that sunny.

But Ian won’t give up. He won’t let MC go so easily. He won’t let them forget him or throw him away. He’ll keep calling them, reminding them of the good times and apologizing for the bad. He won’t let them move on. He’ll do whatever it takes to prove they’re meant to be together...

Ian did a lot of damage to MC. He has a hell of a lot to make up for, and it will take a lot more than just money and fame to fix things.

That’s about it for general theorizing that can apply to all MCs from the clues we’ve been given. I know this post has gotten kind of long, but since we’re on the subject, I’m going to touch on a few headcanons I have that specifically apply to Alice and Ian’s relationship. Just so you know, these headcanons may or may not be tweaked in the future before references appear in Sunshine in Hell.

The relationship between Alice and Ian wasn’t healthy. There were plenty of good times with smiles and love, but there were also problems that only grew more and more toxic as time went on.

Alice has done a lot to please Ian and support him. She felt very bad for the abuse he suffered under his mother and how stifled he was, so she bent over backwards for him, often giving more of herself than was reasonable.

Alice has never done well in front of crowds, but because Ian wanted to be an actor and she wanted to support him, she would participate in plays alongside him. She would help him practice his parts and got good at acting in her own right. Still, her dream was to join the animation industry, but when she struggled under some crappy overly critical art teachers, Ian convinced her to just try for an acting career with him instead.

If it didn’t work out, well, they could just be together.

When Alice dropped out of acting classes after her acting teacher advised her that the only parts she could play were fat, unpleasant characters who were the butt of jokes, it shook up Ian’s confidence as well. He worried he wouldn’t be good enough, or even just good looking enough, even if the teacher praised him in a way that they didn’t with her.

Although Alice felt insecure and ugly, Ian assured her he loved her and that was what counted, not what anyone else thought. Ian didn’t want to give up acting, but he considered it after what happened to her. She didn’t want him to give up on his dream, since she didn’t really want to be an actor to begin with and being on stage with so many people watching her made her feel uncomfortable, but she couldn’t tell him that or he would feel even worse.

Alice did a lot of things that made her uncomfortable for the sake of love.

What didn’t help Alice’s feelings of self worth were all of the husbandos and waifus Ian had. She always acted like they were no big deal, as they were just fictional crushes and she had some of her own while growing up. Unfortunately, she struggled to overlook certain common traits in his choices: large chests, thin waists, and overall conventional good looks.

Alice is chubby, with a pear shaped body that makes her hips and rear much bigger than her chest. No one would ever mistake her for an anime waifu, and she knew it.

It took Alice a while before she could handle getting sexual in their relationship. She suffered from SA as a teenager and had moments where she panicked, especially in certain positions or when being restrained without warning or means of escape.

Ian would feel miserable for triggering her trauma and would apologize profusely for it, blaming himself and thinking the absolute worst of himself. Alice, in turn, would feel guilty for turning something that was supposed to be an expression of love into something awful for the both of them. Moments that should have been just about expressing love physically just made Ian feel like an awful person instead, and she would need to reassure him that he wasn’t. It made her more determined to suppress her trauma and be more proactive when it came to physically intimacy for the sake of their love.

Alice loved Ian, and she was willing to do just about anything for him.

Ian was rough in bed once they got going, and Alice did her best to tolerate it. She focused instead on how flattering and exciting it was that the person she loved desired her to the point that he lost control over himself. She believed that noone else would ever feel this way about her but Ian. What they had was special, irreplaceable. She got better at not freaking out when he took away her control in the heat of passion. She tolerated choking until nearly passing out and the pain that would always come initially when being penetrated.

Neither of them had any point of reference for having sex besides sex education classes, experimenting with each other, and ecchi. In ecchi/hentai, the person on the bottom would almost always be in pain at the start of penetrative sex, particularly during their first time, but would feel good in the end. That was just how sex worked, right? Pain was just an unavoidable price to pay to feel pleasure and express their love physically, right?

Just a quick aside, no, sex is not supposed to be painful unless you want it to be. In that case, it’s BDSM, and it requires a lot of communication as well as safe words to do it in a healthy manner.

Ian never meant for Alice to feel bad. He just loved her so much that he got carried away in the moment, and he was so good at aftercare, which made up for any pain and panic. She adored how sweet he could be afterwards, so loving, kind, and cuddly, so she always reassure him that she was okay... even if she wasn’t really.

Alice learned to complain less and less over the years as she grew up with Ian because he was suffering from so much, and it felt like she had nowhere near as much to complain about. He would feel so miserable if she had a problem and he felt helpless that he could do anything about it. He was dealing with so much, she couldn’t bear to burden him with things that troubled her when he couldn’t handle it, not when he needed her support so badly. She had a big family who loved her and could support her, unlike Ian. Without her, Ian would have no one. He never meant to hurt her, and he always apologized when he did.

That was why, even after being cheated on, Alice tried to forgive Ian.

The woman Ian cheated with was gorgeous, thin, and had big breasts. She was someone who was far more forward and confident when it came to sex, so much more appealing than Alice was, at least in her opinion. She felt pangs of paranoia and jealousy towards this woman’s behavior towards Ian in pictures on their socials and how much he talked about her as well as others even before the affair, but she always managed to talk herself down from suspecting anything seriously. She trusted Ian. What they had was different, real. They knew each other for so long, far more intimately than anyone else. Their love was deeper than anyone could understand, and she believed him when he swore up and down that he only could ever want her romantically or sexually.

It was a mistake. Ian messed up. It’s just how it’s always been - he makes a mistake, apologizes sincerely, reassures Alice he loves her, and she would forgive him. He always has good intentions, he just is clumsy at times, makes mistakes. This was just another mistake.

Besides, it wasn’t like Alice was perfect either. She had a crush on that camp councilor when they were tweens, and it made Ian feel bad because he had been crushing on her while she was gushing about her crush to him, oblivious to his feelings. This was kind of how he felt back then, right? She was just experiencing it from the other side now. Something like this was just a passing fancy. They could recover from this, right? Right?

But they couldn’t. Trust had been broken. All the problems in their relationship that Alice overlooked because she trusted Ian and loved him came in sharp relief, made even worse now by his betrayal.

Alice really did try to make it work, but in the end, she realized, with the help of friends and family, that what she and Ian had wasn’t healthy. They were caught in a toxic cycle of hurt feelings and apologies, clinging to each other for the sake of “love” until their relationship had grown twisted and was slowly destroying both of them.

The hardest thing Alice ever had to do was end the relationship, and even then she cracked under the pressure of Ian’s crying and begging for her not to leave him. She softened it by saying that they were broken up “for now.” Right now things were too painful, too raw. They needed space to focus on themselves as individuals instead of as a couple. If there was any chance of them being together, they needed time apart to heal.

Unfortunately, Alice can’t imagine them getting back together, not when just the thought of Ian hurts like hell.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #swwsdj #sdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask #Sauce-y Art #SDJ Lore #Sunshine in Hell #Alice King #Ian Duff #Ms. Duff

420 notes · View notes