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bunnakit · 9 days

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my stand in ep 4 thoughts, feelings, etc

WOW WA WE WAA THAT SURE WAS AN EPISODE HUH - happy to report i went back through the episode slowly this week and took notes and really tried to gather everything i wanted to say (but i will inevitably forget something)

🌸 ok disclaimers because i have a lot of them for this particular episode 🌸

i'm just a silly guy on the internet, i'm not an expert in mental health, psychology, body language, whatever. most days i can't even take care of myself. i'm just saying things recreationally.

PLEASE do not put novel spoilers in my replies, reblogs, or tags without a warning notice. i've got an itchy blocking finger for it these days.

i am treating ming and joe and everyone involved in this show as if they were real life human beings. ming was not born some mustache twirling villain sent from hell to make joe miserable. joe is not some pure angel descended from the clouds to do no wrong. everyone in this show exhibits very human behavior and that can be distressing under certain circumstances. i'm just going to comment on them as humans. i'm not interested in a round table discussion on why a character is irredeemable, the scum of the earth, etc. i'm just putting my thoughts out there and you can take them or leave them.

🌸 alright yucky disclaimer time over 🌸

the episode really just picks us back up where everything left off - and yet joe still made ming breakfast, and ming isn't stupid (well right now at least,) he knows something is off.

i am confused why tong needs to get married on this specific day. and like bro how fast are you getting married? relax. the whole thing is just unstoppable force (trajectory of this producers career) meets immovable object (tong's fuckass stubbornness) and the collateral damage is massive.

and then there's the question of did joe ever want to play a lead? or did he let his impulsiveness and hurt put a target on his back? (only emphasized by the fact that everyone assumed joe would turn down the role)

i DO apologize for all my doubt surrounding wut. he, ja, and may are the only people in this show with any god damn sense. maybe jojo and yim. we'll see.

getting into the confrontation at joe's work, i really don't think it's that surprising when we keep in mind ming genuinely has no fucking clue what is going on. all he knows is joe woke up, was acting weird, didn't come home, and then told him to pack up his shit and leave with ZERO explanation. like, joe's completely in the right, but i'd also be confused as fuck. (i wouldn't go to someone's work about it but, y'know, we know ming acts in extremes.)

and to me this is where it really became obvious that joe has always been able to overpower ming, to get away from him, as we have seen joe's physical prowess, we've seen what he's capable of, but he never uses his body to move ming away from him - that's not who joe is, he's not someone that would put his hands on another person like that. it's just another way ming and joe are the direct antithesis of each other.

it's my thought that the argument escalates because ming is used to getting everything he wants - except for tong, and now joe. when joe begins to push him away and deny him his substitution for tong i think ming lashes out in his hurt with a thought of "it's happening again, why doesn't anyone want me?"

i will say while i do believe sol has good intentions for the most part his white knighting is getting a little irksome. while convenient, it just shows how much he's still hovering and laying in wait for a chance with joe - he, too, is not respecting joe's wishes. no is a complete sentence, sol.

and then things continue back at home and joe finally, finally throws ming's words back at him: if i'm so terrible to be with, if you're so great, why are you wasting your time with me?

and ming doesn't have an answer. what ming DOES have is another back embrace, arms wrapped around joe as he asks "don't you love me anymore?" but is he asking joe or tong?

"although i'm not as good as tong" even now joe's rampant self worth issues are still at play but at least he finally knows he's worth more than whatever this is.

then the phone rings and to me, ming looks skittish. he looks shaken. he's never seen joe so angry and he's scared and as the call progresses that fear morphs into rage when sol calls joe. and the thing is, regardless of who played the main role, ming was never going to be happy. it was either going to be joe or tong playing opposite sol and neither of those things would have been acceptable.

and then i said, out loud, in my quiet office: OH! and promptly lost my shit in the group chat.

ming doesn't look wholly present after his act of violence. his face is vacant, like he isn't completely seeing or grasping what he's just done. i get the impression that ming isn't mentally well; stress and fear and anger have a way of making people do really fucking stupid things and as these things happen you risk falling into the sunk cost fallacy - you've already gone this far, you can't stop now - which all aligns with the obsessive behavior we've seen from ming in the past.

as joe wakes up and they talk once again joe doesn't blame ming, he blames himself for not seeing the writing on the walls even though it was written in invisible ink.

"all these times we were together did you ever love me?"

"you can't tell?"

again, so much of the blame and emotional responsibility of their situationship is put on joe and ming refuses to communicate any of his feelings, perhaps because he doesn't know how to after repressing everything for so long.

WE DIDN'T GET HOT KINKY CHAINED UP SEX THOUGH, WHY DOES GOD HATE ME SPECIFICALLY

but the way joe looks at ming as they linger there in the wake of joe's request looks like a goodbye, the way his eyes soak in every detail of ming's face. despite all of this and the nightmare it has turned into he did love ming, perhaps still does, and he does have some of those good memories he was so desperate to keep.

though like.. joe.... maybe we could consider a different career path??? instead of just jumping to risking our lives? like sure food service sucks, cashiering sucks, etc. but you aren't in danger of falling off any cliffs, you know? and let's be real, he could just go into modeling with those looks.

it's my impression that when ming calls joe he looks haggard, like he's lost numerous nights of sleep (and we really don't know how much time has passed) but either way it does seem like he's at least done some amount of reflecting. his voice comes across soft, subdued, and sincere.

and after everything, back in the present, we see ming. he's still in the apartment, desperately calling joe's name all these years later, still unable to sleep and waiting for joe to come home just like he asked him to years ago.

maybe ming never wanted to enter the entertainment industry before, but he has now. perhaps it was never for the attention or the money, maybe he chose to promote those watches because it was a reminder of the gift from joe. and maybe this job, in this specific industry, is the closest he can feel to joe now. and maybe with new influence and connections ming can find out why he was never able to tell joe he loved him before he lost him.

WHO KNOWS, NOT ME, CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT THO

#bunn meta #my stand in #my stand in the series #usersasa #clairedaring #i can never find a good place to mention it but in like ep 1 ming knows how joe takes his coffee #after just like 1 day with him so like ming IS paying attention and DOES care for joe #as we see reinforced with his little gifts and the way he went shopping with him and stuff #the things ming does to show his love and care are very blink and you'll miss it #and it's hard for me to squeeze in my thoughts on that between everything else going on

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kenzies-love-stories · 3 years

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Who’s Gonna Tell Sam pt.2 (Paul Lahote x Reader)

A/n: Finally the much a waited part 2 is here! we dive a bit deeper into the readers past issues at home, Jared has a big mouth and Emily is playing match maker. I cut part 2 off where I did because it was getting long. Fear not though part 3 is going to pick up where this one left off. This is poorly edited and I apologize for that I just couldn’t wait to get this out!~ 🖤Kenzie🖤

Type: Fluff just fluff, reader has issues at home that made her move but it is nothing descriptive.

tag list: @venusdelaroix i know you asked about part 2 let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list.

posted: September 7 2021

word count: 3005

Y/n Young is a 17-year-old girl has been sent to live with her Aunt Emily due to some family issues and how her mother was handling them. Y/n tries not to resent her mother for choosing to send her away to La Push Washington instead of dealing with their problems as mother and daughter. Y/n felt as if her mother was giving up on her, it made her feel like she wasn’t worth it. She finds that the cold sandy beach that is in La Push dulls in comparison to the warm sandy beaches back home in California.

y/n Pov

It has been about six months since Paul had imprinted on me, and we are pretty much attached at the hip. The only time we are not around one another is when I am at school and late at night when Paul is on patrol. I am honestly very surprised that Sam still doesn’t know what Paul and I are to one another.

Speaking of Sam, he is currently with the rest of the pack, aside from Jared who is with Kim across from me at the kitchen table. Emily is in the kitchen making her oh so famous muffins and I am crocheting another square for my blanket.

I slightly pause when I hear Kim ask, “has anyone else noticed how calm Paul has been lately? It is honestly kind of strange, but not unwelcome.”

I go back to my work as I hear Emily answer while filling up muffin pans, “Yeah! I also noticed that.”

I freeze dead in my tracks when I hear, “It’s because of the imprint, the more he is around y/n the-”

I cut him off by yelling “JARED, SHUT UP!” but it was already too late, the damage was done.

“Y/n I am so sorry-” Jared starts

I cut him off, “It’s fine.” I put my hook down and make eye contact with Emily

“y/n/n is that true?” she softly asks coming out of the kitchen to sit next to me.

“Yes, it is, but Paul and I are not together in that way, I told him that I could really use a best friend right now. I didn’t completely shut down that idea either though, I just want to get to know him for him before that happens.”

“Does Sam know, why am I just hearing about this now?” she asks in confusion, knowing Sam he would have made a bit of a scene.

“No, Paul and I want to be the ones to tell him. We just don’t quite know how to yet.” I pause, “we made the guys promise not to say or think about it, I am actually surprised that Jared managed to last as long as he did.” I laugh playfully glaring at him.

“Hey! what are you trying to say kid!?!” he questions pointing at me.

“That you have a big mouth.” I joke holding back a laugh, when I hear Kim laugh.

“Oh, you little shit! I’ll give you a five second head start.” he says before standing and kissing Kim on the cheek.

I squeal and take off out the back door where I see a shirtless Paul, Embry and Quill. I sprint towards Paul and dunk behind him grabbing on to the back of his shoulders hiding. He looks over his shoulder at me in concern, “Y/n/n what’s wrong are you okay?”

“Jared may or may not be after me!” I exclaim as Jared comes running out of the house scanning the back yard.

“Where are you, you little shit.” he shouts and looks towards Paul. “Of course, um Yeah. NOPE!” he exclaims then goes back inside to Kim.

I come out from behind Paul to see him smirk down at me, “what was that about.” He asks pointing to the door.

“Jared um he slipped up and I told him he had a big mouth.” I state nervously as I hear Embry and Quill laugh.

Paul worriedly asks, “who was around when this happened?”

I pull Paul into a hug to calm us both down, “Only Emily and Kim, luckily.” I say into his chest savoring the warmth of his body.

He pulls me closer and rests his chin the top of my head, “So, I am assuming Emily wants to have a few words with me?”

“Yeah, she does.” I say while pulling away from his warm body. He sighs nervously and nods before walking inside. I decide to stay outside with Embry and Quill

“So, where’s Sam?” I ask

“Emily’s and his anniversary are coming up soon, so he is out looking for gifts.” Quill states

Paul POV

I walk into Sam and Emily’s with my palms slightly clammy. Emily is far scarier than Sam is when she is angry. “Hey Emily I heard that you wanted to talk to me?” I ask once I reach her kitchen table.

“Yes, I do, Kim can you and Jared please step outside for a few minutes?” She asks after putting something into the oven.

I see Kim start to drag Jared towards the slider, “of course.” She says before closing the slider behind her.

We both sit down at the table, “Paul I heard that you imprinted on Y/n.”

“Yes, I did, Emily, I promise you I didn’t mean too.” I start to defend myself when she cuts me off.

“Paul it is okay, I know you can’t control that stuff. Just know that y/n has been through a lot, I don’t know what she has told you about her mom and that is not my place to tell you those things but just know that she has a hard time letting people in. She has a bit of abandonment issues and if you of all people abandon her too, it would just crush her. I can see that you mean the world to her and I haven’t seen that look in her eye since her dad. I just don’t want to see her hurt.” Emily states while making eye contact with me.

“She has not told me much about what she has gone through but I can assure you with confidence that I have no intention of ever hurting her or leaving her side. Emily just seeing her sad during a movie sends a pang of pain to shoot through my chest. I know that she only sees me as a best friend and by all means that is enough for me but the more, I get to know her beautiful soul the more I start to fall in love with her. Like the only thing I want to do is keep that smile on her face.” I honestly vent to Emily.

“I am really thankful to hear that, I know you will protect her with your life and because I feel that I don’t have anything to worry about I promise I won’t tell Sam.” She states, “That was all, I just wanted to touch base with you.”

“Thank you, Emily,” I say before going outside to spend some one-on-one time with y/n before Sam gets back.

y/n pov about a week later

Emily had of course been true to her word and has not uttered a word to Sam about Paul’s and I connection. Though she has been slyly playing matchmaker and finding ways for Paul and I to be together. Like this morning for example, “y/n come get your lunch!”

I run down the stairs taking them two at a time until I make my way to the kitchen. I grab the brown paper bag from Emily and I noticed she is dressed up, “Thank you Auntie, um why are you so dressed up? Aren’t you just dropping me off at school.”

“For Sam and I anniversary this year I bought us tickets to a music festival a state over, we will be gone for about a week. Paul is coming to get you for school today,” She pulls me into a hug and in a hushed whisper says, “You will have the house to yourself just no funny business.”

“Really!” I exclaim “Have fun Auntie.” I say as Sam makes his way downstairs with two backpacks.

“Y/n are you sure you are going to be okay here alone?” he asks stopping in front of me.

“I’ll be fine Sam I promise. You two go have fun you deserve it.” I muse before pulling him into a tight hug.

I pull away and hug Emily one more time, “Thank you.” I say very quietly into her ear.

“If you need anything, call Jared or Quill.” Sam states with a hint of a smile on his face.

“Will do Sam, I love you guys!” I exclaim as they are walking out, I hear a “We love you too!” in reply.

I watch them pull out of the driveway and then I look down at my current outfit, with a sigh I quickly run up the stairs to change as I was not planning on seeing Paul until way later. I rush back down the stairs when I hear a knock on the door. I quickly fix my hair before I pull open the door with a smile. I am greeted with Paul’s warm presence.

I grin big, “Good morning, Paul.”

“Someone is cheery this morning.” Paul says before opening his strong arms, I happily walk into them allowing his warmth to comfort me for a minute.

All to soon I pull away and grab my backpack before I close the front door. I then put my house key in the lock, then check the door to make sure it is locked. “Can you let the pack know that the back door is open for them. Sam and Emily are in Idaho at a music festival for the next week or so.”

“Really when was this, no one told us anything.” He asks while walking us to his truck.

“Yeah, Emily surprised him, they left this morning. Emily said that I have the house to myself for a week or so.” I reply nodding in thanks as he opens my door for me. My heart swoons and butterflies swarm in my belly as he closes the door then jogs over to his side.

“Really?” He asks as he starts the truck.

“Yeah, would you want to have a sleep over, Emily said that it was okay.” I ask while admiring his side profile as he focuses on the road to get me to school safely.

I see Paul’s cheeks start to slightly flush before he answers, “of course, I would love to as long as Emily said it was okay.”

The ride to school was sadly quicker than I would have liked it to be. I sigh in distain as he pulls up in front of the school. “I am sorry I have to leave you at this hell hole y/n/n.” Paul states

“it’s fine Paul there is only three more months until graduation.” I state before deciding to be a bit bold, I then lean over to press a quick peck to Paul’s warm cheek. “Bye Paul see you after school.”

I see his cheeks deepen in color and he stutters, “k-knock them dead cutie.”

I giggle and open the truck door, shutting it behind me and walking towards what Paul describes as hell. I meet Seth by the front door as always, “Good morning, Seth.”

“Good morning y/n/n, did I just see Paul drop you off?” he asks holding the front door to the school open for me.

“Yeah, Sam and Emily are on their way to Idaho for a music festival.” I state walking with him to our first period of the day.

"Really!?! Why wasn’t I informed about this?” He asks sitting down at his desk next to mine.

“Emily bought the tickets for their anniversary so Sam probably didn’t know until late last night. That would explain why everyone was left in the dark.” I state before getting out my blue notebook for Chemistry.

The rest of my school day drones on uneventfully and much to slow for my liking. However, the final bell finally rings, signaling that it is three o’clock meaning school is out for the weekend. I rush to my locker as fast as my feet would carry me. I place all the things that I do not need for the weekend, slamming my locker shut I check the lock to make sure that no one is breaking into it. Not that I am worried at this school, it is a force of habit for going to school in California for so long.

I pick my backpack up off the floor, swing it over my shoulders before I start to push my way through the bodies all trying to make it to the exit first. I let out a breath of relief as the fresh crisp Washington air hits my face. I quickly glance around the parking lot looking for Paul’s truck which I find in the front row. With excitement I run over to his truck and gently pull open the door, “Hi Paul!”

“Hi there, how was your day love?” he asks.

I start to tell him about my day as I get in his truck, I only briefly stop to gently pull the door closed. After I am all done with my day, I glance over at Paul to already see him looking at me. “So,” he starts before continuing nervously, “I got Quill to cover my shift for patrol tonight, do you want to go to an arcade with me?”

A big smile breaks out on my face, “Paul is that even a question, I love arcades! I honestly can’t wait to see your face when I whoop your ass at Ski Ball.”

“Oh yeah, you think so?” he teases

“I know so hotshot.” I fire back.

“Awe you think I’m hot.”

“That is beside the point.” I squeak embarrassedly

“Yeah you- Wait seriously, you really think I’m hot?” he has surprise laced in his tone

“Yeah, Paul I do, have you seen yourself lately.” I reply with a new found confidence.

“Well, the feeling is mutual, I find you particularly eye catching as well.”

“Thanks Paul,” I giggle as I noticed he entered the freeway, in confusion I ask, “Paul where are we going.”

“We are going to a little hole in the wall arcade in Seattle, I used to go there all the time as a kid.” he replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okie cool.” I reply placing my backpack at my feet on the floorboard. I feel my cheeks heat up as the embarrassment sets in finally, Paul found out that I thought he was hot...You are allowed to find your best friend hot...right?

I am brought out of my trance by Paul turns on his radio, “We can listen to whatever you want to y/n/n.” Paul mutters before signaling over.

“Thank you very much but I actually wanted to talk to you a bit about why I am currently living with Emily.” I reply before shakily turning the dial down again so he can clearly hear me.

“y/n/n, you know you can always tell me anything, I am not going to judge you, ever.” I noticed that we entered the exit that is going to take us to Seattle.

“Okay, so after my dad died about six years ago my started to go off the deep end. I started to rebel her rules in hopes that I would get the attention that I needed from her. “I pause to breathe before continuing, “however, nothing seemed to work. She became so wrapped up in drugs and her boyfriends that she couldn’t even remember my birthday the last two years. At sixteen I was crying alone in my bedroom. By my seventeenth I was in my friend's basement getting tattoos hoping my mom would notice that I was growing up without her. The only thing I got when I got home was an ass whooping and a plane ticket to Washington. I am kind of glad that I was sent away in some sick since because it led me to you and at this point, I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.” I state looking at the hands in my lap trying to ignore the sting in my eyes. I was so focused that I didn’t even notice that he parked the truck.

He gently lifts my chin up to look into my misty eyes, “Thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me, y/n you are never going to have to feel that way again. You are surrounded by so many people who love and care about you. We notice you, and we are not going to forget another birthday of yours ever; Babes you are not alone anymore I promise.”

Tears start to slip out of my eyes that I couldn’t notice the tears that are clouding Paul’s eyes. I unbuckle my seat beat and scoot over to Paul’s warm welcoming body. I hug him tightly, “thank you.” I feel his arms tighten around me as I cry into his neck, soaking the shoulder of his tee shirt.

“Hey little love it is okay, no more tears; you said something about tattoos, may I see them?” Paul carefully removes my face from his neck and gently wipes the last of my tears.

With a small smile I pull away to take of my cardigan, “you can see one of them, it is actually kind of ironic.” I take off the ace bandage that covers my forearm when I am at school. “I cover it when I am at school.” After my forearm is free, I gently push it towards Paul.

“Is that...a wolf,” he asks gently tracing it.

“Yes, it is. I let my friend Eric practice on me and I must say it hurt and I am lucky it came out as good as it did.”

“Was this his very first piece.”

“No, the tattoo that is on my hip is the very first one ever.” I state with a nod.

“You let him see you hip.” He asks with a bit of joking jealously

“Paul I was I crop top,” I laugh, “It was not even like that, he has a girlfriend.”

“Oh, well could I see it.” he asks wiggling his eyebrows slightly.”

“Maybe one day,” I tease back, “now let’s go play some Ski Ball!” I exclaim before getting out of the truck.

#paul lahote imagine #paul lahote imagines #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote fluff #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #twilight drabble #twilight x reader #wolf pack imagine #wolf pack imagines #wolf pack drabble

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Rough Beginnings

A/N: So! This idea spawned after reading @cycat-carisi story, We. Please read that first, then come back here for this prequel! This also covers the Mafia square in @adarafaelbarba moodboard bingo!

Tags: mentions of a prostitution ring, talks of murder and mafia-related goings-on

Words: 1964

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

(gif by @resparza )

Sonny never hated his job more than when he went undercover. He had hated when he was posing as a homeless man with an eye for children, but this was worse. So. Much. Worse.

His cover story for this job was that he was part of the Italian mob, and he had been hired on as security for a prostitution ring; some huge network that was international but had its roots right here in Manhattan. Him, along with multiple real mafia members, were in charge of transporting girls, drugs, and anything else the head honcho told them to.

It had been three months since he went under; his beard itched his face still, his leather jacket was starting to be uncomfortable, and he wanted nothing more than to take all of these bastards down. But they didn’t have enough yet. So, he had to stick it out a little longer—at least, that’s what he told himself. A little longer, a little longer. He wasn’t sure how much “little longer” he had left in him.

Sonny lived in the housing quarters his boss supplied him, along with three other mafia guys. He had almost zero contact with the world outside his job—all the information he gathered was sent in a coded text from a burner. But he was starting to miss his friends and family. At least his employer understood that as part of the Italian mob, Sonny was allowed to go to church on Sundays…if there wasn’t something big happening.

His saving grace came a month later, while standing guard at his boss’s door. A woman he’d seen before came stomping up to him, and he braced himself; he knew that look.

“Let me see my father,” you snarled.

Sonny rose his hands defensively. “I was given orders ta not let anyone in. That includes you,” he replied, crossing his arms once more and trying to puff out his chest. But you simply glared at him.

“Fuck you; let me in, before I force my way in,” you growled.

He chuckled, eyeing you. “Ya really think you can get passed me? Let’s see ya try, doll.”

You gave him another impressive glare before trying to lunge passed him, reaching for the handle. Sonny caught you easily around your midsection, lifting you and placing you down at arm’s length in front of him.

“That the best ya got?” he teased. This wasn’t the first time you tried to brute force your way passed him before, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. But you had a trick up your sleeve.

You let your bottom lip quiver, tears appearing in your eyes. “Pl-please, sir, let m-me see my—” you trailed off, sniffling loudly.

“Ah geez, don’t be doing that. Come on; he’s in a meeting and will be out soon. Just wait a lil, okay?” he said, a touch of pleading in his voice.

But you didn’t stop, letting the tears trail down your cheeks. You let out a loud sob, and Sonny wanted to rip his hair out; he didn’t need a tantrum with daddy’s spoiled brat right now. He internally winced at that; he didn’t really believe that that was what you were, but when you came up here, trying to cry your way in, his mind went there.

You let out another loud sob. “Please, doll, I promise ta let him know as soon as he’s free—” Sonny started, but he was cut off by the door behind him opening. He stood at attention—like a good little lapdog—and the man who was having a meeting with his employer came out. He took one look at you, then left, rolling his eyes. You quickly wiped your face with your shirt before your dad appeared.

“And what are you doing here?” your father asked, annoyance dripping from his voice.

Sonny felt bad for you, but said nothing, gave away no emotions on his face as you requested to speak with him, privately.

He nodded, and Sonny moved out of the way, letting you enter, the door closing softly behind you both. He released a breath; it was always high tension after a meeting. But Sonny also found himself feeling sorry for you, having a father like that. He was hoping that when the walls came down, you’d at least be spared; you had no real idea of your father’s business, how big and deep it ran.

The meeting between you and your father didn’t last long, and soon enough, the door was opening once more behind him.

“Sonny; drive my daughter home. Giuliano will cover you until you're back,” your father ordered.

Sonny nodded, letting you pass him before following you. He kept his emotions in check, but he saw the look on your face; sadness, betrayal, and fear. He vaguely wondered what you had talked about but didn’t want to pry; he could be fired or worse for it.

It wasn’t until halfway through the drive to your place that he asked if you were okay.

“Fantastic,” you muttered, staring out the window.

Sonny wasn’t sure why he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut; the words just spilled out. “Ya father is a hard man. I’m sorry ya have ta deal with that.” It was a mistake, he knew; if you were indeed loyal to your father, then saying that out loud was a good way to end up dead.

You blinked in surprise at his bluntness, and for his apology. “Y—yeah, he is. I wouldn’t let him catch you saying that, though.”

He nodded. “Uh, how ‘bout makin’ it our little secret, then?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that you’d say nothing about this to him.

“Our little secret…. Yeah, okay,” you replied dryly, eyes going back to the window.

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

After that conversation, Sonny’s boss would often send him to you, whether to drive you or as extra protection—more like babysitting, to Sonny. But he found that he couldn’t complain; it was the only time he could be close to his true self…plus it was safer and better than doing other, illicit things. Even if he should be doing those things for intel. And of course, he never slipped up like he had on that first car ride. No, he was Sonny from the Italian mob, not the soft-hearted detective. He held you at arm’s length, determined to not let the mask slip. But something about you got to him, and he found himself afraid of you. Afraid that he’d make a mistake, and that you would see right through him.

“Sonny, why do you do this job?” you asked one day while he was driving you home. It had been over a month since your father had basically assigned Sonny to you.

He tried to stay neutral, but you saw how he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “’Cause it’s a job. I was hired.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it,” you replied, smiling.

His jaw tightened. “Nah, see, when my boss tells me ta do somethin’, I do it.”

“You’re not like the rest, though. The others, I see murder in their eyes. They have such dark thoughts; it’s almost like they’re hoping my father gives them a kill order,” you explained. True, your father told you that they were security guards for his business, but you never bought that story; they were more like murderers than security. The day when Sonny kept you out of your father’s office was the first time you noticed that he was different; his eyes were soft, and he talked to you like a person, rather than making vaguely concealed threats. He seemed to genuinely care when you started to fake cry, even though you knew that he knew it was fake.

His bright blue eyes met with yours in the rearview mirror for a brief moment before flicking back to the road. “We don’t kill—”

“Stop lying to me, Sonny. Please. I deserve to know what’s going on,” you said, a slight begging tone in your voice.

So that confirmed it; you had no idea what your father was capable of. Sonny swallowed, wanting this conversation to end. “Talk ta ya father, not me—”

“I’ve tried! Multiple times! I’m not an idiot; I know he’s shady as hell. But just what are you protecting?”

“If he’s not willin’ ta tell ya, then that should tell ya somethin’, right?” he asked. He pulled over in front of your art studio, putting the car in park and getting out. You thought about his words; it was more than you got from anyone else. To be honest, Sonny always gave you more than anyone else; he didn’t sneer at you, ignore you, call you names like “brat”. And he definitely didn’t look at you with hungry eyes or creepy smiles. He seemed like…like a generally good person, all things considered. You weren’t sure when it had happened, but you noticed you had developed a crush on him.

All too soon, Sonny was opening the door for you to get out. You thanked him as you exited the car, and felt his presence behind you as you climbed the stairs to the door. He always walked you there, to make sure you were safe.

You unlocked and opened the door, then turned around to face him. He gave you a nod and you thanked him again. But something possessed you in that moment; why else would you have grabbed his shirt and pulled him to you in a kiss?

Sonny froze in place, eyes wide, before he placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back. You looked up at him, the apology dying on your tongue; you weren’t sorry at all. That kiss was worth it in your eyes. But there was an almost…pained? look in Sonny’s eyes.

“D-doll, we can’t—ya father—”

“Never has to know,” you finished for him.

He blinked, obviously warring with himself, and you were sure you knew why; if your father found out about you two, he could have Sonny killed. But, if Sonny felt the same way about you that you did about him, then maybe, just maybe, he could help you escape from under your father. Something about him was safe, trustworthy.

Slowly, you reached up to cup his face. When he didn’t pull away, you gently leaned in again, kissing him slowly, tenderly. He paused for only a moment before he melted against your lips. Then he gently pulled away from you.

“I—I gotta—” He didn’t finish his thought before he turned and hurried down the stairs. You watched him go, hoping that he’d say nothing to your father.

The car door slammed shut and Sonny was quick to turn the car on and leave. What the fuck was he doing, letting you kiss him? And then he kissed you back?! He must be a fucking idiot! Sure, he liked you—more than he was willing to admit—but this could blow his cover. Not to mention get him killed, cover blown or not. Plus, he was lying to you; any feelings you felt weren’t for him but for the façade he put on.

He resolved to keep his distance from you; nothing good could come from any of this. It ended in one of two ways: you, heartbroken over Sonny’s lies, or him buried six feet under in some lot. There was no way to disobey your father if he ordered him to take you home, so there was no avoiding you. Sonny would just have to lay down the rules next time he saw you; absolutely no relationship could exist, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #adarafaelbarbaseptemberbingo

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zaffrenotes · 3 years

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[TRR: WD106] Avoiding A Blunder

Summary: Prince Liam has to fill in for Crown Prince Leo, and Murphy’s Law is put into motion at the end of his trip. Chaos ensues, condensed Wacky Drabble style. Fic Rating/Warning: M; alcohol consumption, minor health/medical emergency, anxiety/angst Author’s Note: All main characters belong to Pixelberry/The Royal Romance, I’m just borrowing them * Fictional versions of IRL individuals are included with affection; any other characters mentioned in this piece are my creation * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 106: You’re gonna get us busted! * You have @the-soot-sprite and @ao719 to thank for this ridiculousness, lol - Soot reblogged a photo, Betsy sent me this request

and...this is what my brain came up with (PS - thank you both for the movie discussion) * For the purposes of this story, Triydalia is a fictional country that shares a border with Thailand * Word Count: 1999 😅 (7 minutes reading time)

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I'll tag you in the comments): @/ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @/the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @dcbbw @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @ladyangel70 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @yourmajesty09

Liam was used to filling in for Leo at a moment’s notice; participating in conference calls with ambassadors for early morning updates when Leo overslept, and attending meetings with ministers when Leo went AWOL. He’d grown accustomed to his brother’s antics, but he wondered how Bastien managed to keep his position, when he’d lost track of Leo’s whereabouts countless times.

While Leo spent more time avoiding his duties as Crown Prince of Cordonia, Liam dutifully took on the extra responsibilities in stride. It often meant partitioning his already packed schedule to sit in on vital cabinet meetings or dining with visiting dignitaries, but sometimes Leo’s vanishing acts gave Liam the opportunity to travel.

Though their ambassadors handled the majority of day-to-day relations with other countries for trade, Constantine preferred to meet face-to-face when he could. One such time, a lingering cough turned to walking pneumonia, restricting Constantine to as much bed rest as possible. It also meant sending Leo to Japan for a meeting with the Prime Minister in his stead.

It would have been fine, if Leo hadn’t pulled another one of his disappearing acts.

A week later, Liam was seated on the royal jet on his way back from Tokyo, navy attache with espresso brown leather trim in the chair next to him. Across from him, Maxwell chatted with Anya over various Thai dishes. On the other side of the plane, Drake was in a heated discussion with leggy blonde Anitah while the ladies’ petite friend Donna observed in silence, fighting back a grin. “You’re an imbecile if that’s your opinion,” Anitah declared, raising her hands up in the air. “Are you sure that’s the hill you wanna die on?”

Drake smugly sipped from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “I’m right and you know it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Liam asked, relieved to think about anything other than what was in the bag and why it was so important he hand deliver it to his father.

“Fight Club being a better cinematic masterpiece than The Princess Bride,” Drake replied. “You guys agree, right? If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, you’d want to watch Tyler Durden fight the system instead of some…” he paused to sneer at Anitah, who crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at him, “...story about a swashbuckler rescuing a princess? She’s not even a real princess!”

“Fight Club is such a guy movie though,” Anya argued, turning in her seat to face Drake. “Princess Bride appeals to men and women, with a much larger audience.”

“Okay, that’s two for Buttercup,” Drake sighed. “Maxwell? Li?” He looked at his friends expectantly.

“Fight Club, definitely,” Maxwell said, nodding his head. He’d spent the better part of the trip doing everything to get into Drake’s good graces after the octopus incident on the first night in Tokyo.

Before Liam could respond, a commotion from the front of the plane made everyone’s heads turn, where a pair of Kings Guards and two flight attendants were seated near the galley. One of the guards slipped into the cockpit, rushing out a moment later in Liam’s direction, as the jet slowly tilted to the right. “Apologies, Your Highness. Do you or any of your guests happen to speak Triydalian?”

Anya slowly raised her hand. “I knew a bit when I was a kid, but I haven’t used it in years.”

The guard motioned for her to join him. “Please come with us, miss. The pilots need a translator.”

“Is everything alright, Remy?” Liam peered past the guard, eyes widening at the sight of the other guard and one attendant hovering in front of the other attendant in a chair.

“We need to land the plane, Sir,” Remy answered, ushering Anya up from her seat. “Ramona passed out. She’s breathing but unresponsive.”

Twenty minutes later and after a jarring landing, they’d arrived at a small airport in the Republic of Triydalia, at the edge of one of the country’s many jungle forests. Calling it an airport was generous - it was more of a cleared dirt path in the middle of the jungle with a shack for an airport tower, and a man that looked like more of a hunter than an air traffic controller. After a choppy conversation that required pantomiming and hand signals, Anya left with Remy and the man from the tower to fetch a tribal doctor, while Anitah and Donna assisted the other member of the cabin crew to look after Ramona. They were warned to remain as quiet as possible and to stay inside the jet.

Minutes passed by in tense observation; Anitah and Drake continued their debate in low whispers, growing louder as they defended their choices. Liam could see the pilots discussing something pointedly as they checked readings on the instrument panel and worked on calculations. One of them stepped out, claiming that he needed to stretch his legs, and walked cautiously down the runway. When he returned, the other pilot joined him outside, despite the original warning to stay inside. Liam peered out the windows and checked his watch, worrying about Anya and Remy, along with his father’s instructions to avoid delaying their return.

While the remaining guard headed towards the back of the plane to pace back and forth for the eighth time, Liam took it upon himself to speak with the pilots. The air was thick and stifling the moment he stepped outside. Around them, there was nothing but green, green, and more green from the wilderness that surrounded them, abuzz with tropical birds and insects. At his side he carried the blue attache, remembering the promise to his father that the bag wouldn’t leave his sight. He spoke in a hushed tone when he approached the pilots. “You’re doing more than just stretching your legs, aren’t you, Captain?”

Both men grimaced slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Even if we pulled back to one end of the runway, we’re still at least five hundred feet short of clearing takeoff.”

“What if we worked to try and clear the brush on either end?” Liam offered, looking off into the distance.

“There’s no way to clear out the trees, even the young ones,” the co-captain answered. “We might be able to take off if we could drop some weight, but the larger concern is the longer we wait, we increase the risk of encountering someone who doesn’t want us here.”

Liam nodded gravely; months of civil unrest in Triydalia meant rebel groups assembled faster than the government could contain them. There was no guarantee of anyone’s safety, stranded on a remote runway. There was no telling what was wrong with Ramona while she was unconscious, and therefore no way to treat her without the aid of a doctor. Ensuring the safety of the crew and his friends could have been avoided altogether if Leo didn’t constantly opt out of handling the duties of his station. In that moment, Liam abhorred the never-ending list of responsibilities thrust at him as a result of having to pick up the slack for his brother, knowing if their roles were reversed, Leo would manage to find a way to leave Liam to solve problems on his own.

“Could you excuse me for a moment?”

He’d barely finished asking the question before walking into the tall grass by the edge of the runway. Ignoring the pilots’ calls to return, Liam sprinted into the dense greenery, dodging between vines and scanning the ground for tripwires until he could no longer see the plane over his shoulder. When he finally stopped running, he bent over, hands on his knees as he gulped in air. Liam looked down at the blue bag in his hand, wondering what on earth was so precious to reduce him to a courier.

Shaking the bag did nothing; it felt practically empty, though he could tell something was inside. He couldn’t open the bag to check, since Prime Minister Abe and his father were the only ones with keys, and PM Abe handed him the sealed bag when they parted ways. Liam wanted to throw the infernal “murse” the ladies had good-naturedly teased him for into the bushes. Perspiration dotted his hairline, and he let out a primal scream, before taking slow, deep breaths to quiet the worrisome thoughts racing in his head and bring his heartbeat down to normal.

Cursed courier bag in his right hand, Liam braced his arm against his torso, pinning it in place with his elbow when he bent his other arm up towards his face. Curling his fingers into a relaxed fist, he pressed his lips against his thumb, thick brows furrowing in thought. All around him, wild birds called to one another amidst the chittering clamor of insects hidden in the foliage. He was so busy running through scenarios in his head that he didn’t hear the quiet click of a camera, turning to look up only when he heard a branch snap in the distance.

“Watch it! You’re gonna get us busted!” Donna hissed to Drake. She pocketed her phone, elbowing Drake in the ribs as they crouched behind large leaves. She ticked her head in Liam’s direction. “Go get your boy, none of us are safe out here.”

After some coaxing, Liam headed back to the plane with Donna and Drake, walking briskly through the jungle, eyes trained to look for anything out of the ordinary. Liam was alarmed when he heard and then saw the engines running, until Drake explained the pilots were burning off fuel to lighten the plane. They’d begun to walk up the steps, when Maxwell popped out above them. “Whoo!” Maxwell exclaimed, digging for another snack from the container he cradled in his arm. “Feels like a sauna out here!”

“Lower your voice, Maxwell! Please!” Liam seethed. His features pinched together in disbelief. “Are you...eating? Now?”

“You know I stress snack,” Maxwell replied, shrugging his shoulders. He shoved another cookie into his mouth.

Liam’s eyes lit up and he took the stairs two by two, knocking on the cockpit door before swinging it open. “What if we unloaded whatever’s not bolted down? The decor, dinnerware, the food and drink?”

“That...would certainly help,” the captain replied, looking back over his shoulder. He turned to his co-pilot. “It could be enough to get in the air after burning off the excess fuel.”

“You heard the man, Maxwell,” Liam said, offering his friend a nervous grin. “Get Drake to help you start unloading the plane. Has Ramona’s status changed?”

“Donna found the first aid kit just before she took off with Drake to go after you. Anitah found some smelling salts that gave her a rude wakeup call. Turns out her insulin pump shorted and she just needed some juice.”

Several more minutes passed as the group removed whatever they could from the plane, leaving piles of cookware, food, throw pillows, and even seat cushions to lighten the load. Drake whined when they gathered up the liquor, but he stuffed a bottle of whiskey in a cabinet by his seat. They’d nearly finished when Anya and Remy returned, running on foot. “That thing better be ready to take off!” Anya hollered, motioning for everyone to board. “Rebels on our tail! Time to go!”

Everyone scrambled back onto the plane; Liam relayed the urgency to depart to the pilots, who rapidly went through their flight checklist. Remy pulled Anya up onto the steps and they all clamored to buckle into their seats, the sound of gunfire in the air as the jet rolled forward and lurched up into the air, barely clearing the canopy.

Adrenaline pumping and breaths shallow, Liam looked around at his friends and the crew, thankful they were safely in the air again.

Liam thought he was having a stroke at twenty-four when he saw the contents of the bag. Constantine smiled with glee at the small gold cat, one paw raised.

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creativeashproductions · 4 years

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A Discovery of Ghosts // Luke Patterson

Summary: Avoiding the house, the eldest Molina sibling has been unaware of the new chapter in Julie’s life until one fateful night.

Warning: Swearing, angst, fluff and overprotective!reader

Words: 2.1k

Oh look! Another JATP fic. Weird how it appeared? Enjoy! I may have a part two for Lost Time. If you want it, let me know!

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The dirty bag dropped on the ground as you cracked your neck heading straight for the kitchen, for the last year you would find Julie in there. Before the loss of your mother Julie spent all her time in the studio whether it be doing homework or playing the piano. Now, with the grief still striking hot within the Molina family even a year later.

“Jules?” You called out pouring a large glass of water. Dropping the empty water bottle in the sink.

In all honesty you hadn’t been home longer than to grab a bite and sleep before heading straight back to the field. It was a way of keeping away from the sadness permeating the house and the absence of your mom. Along with avoiding the awkward conversations of selling the house when it was really only Julie that okay with it.

“Dad?” You called next grabbing the sticky note off the fridge

Girls,

Carlos had a last-minute practice. Money left in the jar for supper.

- Dad

You hummed heading for the stairs to take a shower taking a guess that Julie was either in her room or at Flynn’s place. Bag in hand along with the softball bat you started up the stairs leading to your room. The faint conversation from her room was odd to say the least, the door was closed, and it sounded like more than one person.

The door opened easily under your hand scaring Julie who was sitting on her bed with a disgruntled expression. Her look of terror and nerves was the most concerning. Dropping the bag, you gripped the softball bat tight as you pushed the door open the rest of the way.

“Jules?” You spoke scanning the room, “Why do you have three boys in your room?”

The room went stock still, each boy scanning your form and the bat in hand. Standing in uniform coated in red soil from the infield you were on the more intimidating side.

“You can see them?”

“Jules, are you okay?” You questioned ignoring her odd question with a look of concern, the bat dropped low.

The last year had been extremely more difficult on Julie than Carlos and you given that Julie was closer with Mom with music. Carlos and you hadn’t inherited the gift that Julie had been born with; yet she hadn’t found interest in sports.

“She looks like she could break us?”

You sent a confused look at the trio giving your attention back to your little sister, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately, but you shouldn’t be acting out like this.” Julie’s jaw dropped at your words, “I’m not acting out! Dad can’t see-“

“He can’t see this because it shouldn’t be happening Julie.” You sternly told the younger Molina, “Just let me shower and we’ll hang out. You can pick the movie and the snacks, but they have to go. If you want, we can even dig out the projector.”

You pointedly looked at the three boys before turning your heel to head out of her room to yours down the hall. The door was closed tight as it always was, it was your space so when the door was shut no one went in. Trust was important in your family and with Julie uncharacteristically sneaking boys in that could mean all trust on closed doors would break.

“They’re ghosts.” Julie called out from her open door. The concern for the girl growing at her words, “I know that sounds bad and makes it seem like I need to see Dr. Turner but I’m not lying.”

You sighed at the girl completely in disbelief at the length she would go to lie, “Maybe you should see Dr. Turner Jules. Seeing the doctor doesn’t make you weak.”

Julie was silent as you began to open your door before the blonde boy literally appeared out of thin air in front of you.

“Oh my god!” You screamed stumbling back from the tall male, “Oh God. Scratch that! WE both need Dr. Turner.”

Two more bursts of light happened as the other two boys appeared in front of you with sheepish expressions. You took in a deep breath finally taking into consideration of Julie’s admittance.

“I-“ You choked out, “Does this mean Benny was a ghost?”

Julie blushed at the mention of her childhood imaginary friend that she had had for a number of years. It was also a time that Tía Victoria was not welcome in your home when she went behind your parents to schedule an appointment with Dr. Turner.

“Benny? No, I’m Reggie.” The boy with slicked back black hair spoke shaking his head, “This is Alex and Luke.”

You mutely nodded clenching your fists together, “Good thing you’re a ghost or I would have punched you.”

Luke’s eyes widened at the threat, “Whoa.”

“Now move. I just got home from practice, I’m sweaty and dirty.” You announced side stepping the ghostly trio. You grimaced at the blush appearing on Reggie and Luke, “Dead but still think inappropriately.”

“We’re teenage ghosts.” Alex announced glancing at his best friends. His hands shoved deep in his pockets as you took in his words.

You glanced over your shoulder at your little sister, “Just stay out of Julie’s room. And don’t look under Carlos’ bed.”

With that you opened the bedroom door and slammed in in their dead faces. The room had drastically changed from the previous year mainly the pale pink was painted over by a new colour. It was no longer the little girl’s room your mother had decorated while preparing for your birth. It was a young woman’s room decorated to fit your personality.

Located on a wall was the rack of softball bats with a number of softballs settled in divots on the connected shelf. Your room also had the only other connected bathroom, being the oldest sibling had benefits.

“Ghosts.” You muttered jumping when a thud happened. Turning your heel, you saw that Alex had opened the door and tossed your ball bag in.

“You left this. Sorry for interrupting.” Alex apologized as he left the room again.

“Boundaries!” You called out heading into your bathroom. Alex smiled at how similar he thought you and Julie were to each other.

Half of you had anticipated Julie getting the living room ready instead of using the projector in the garage; it was a part of growing up. The first time you can remember seeing the projector was when you first got your period and it became a thing with your mom. For the length of time for you period you had movie nights in the garage and when Julie got her first period it came a ritual. It helped that as sisters your periods synched together.

“Julie.” You breathed finding that she had surprised you. She had waited in the living room for you, “You didn’t.”

Shyly the younger Molina girl nodded her head and led you to the studio outside where it decorated as if the past year hadn’t happened. The projected was brought out along with countless snacks, fuzzy blankets and soda. It was also barren of anyone else.

“I’m guessing from the amount of time you’re in here that the ghosts live here?” You deduced at the musical instruments placed in an area they wouldn’t get in the way.

“Yeah.” Julie nodded, “I’m not sure where they are.”

“Righ-“

“Reggie!” Alex hissed from the loft with an apologetic expression, “We’re finding something to do while you use the studio. We’re be gone in a moment.”

Reggie and Luke nodded in response while digging through the things that had collected up there since 1995. Your smile turned into a frown at the discontentment they each displayed.

“Jules. Do they have anywhere else to go?” You whispered feeling sad when Julie indicated that this was their only place, “Why don’t we change this?”

“Change what?”

“I know that this feels odd without Mom but maybe we can make this better. Alex, would you guys like to stay?”

The question was barely spoke before the three ghosts flashed down to the ground floor with beaming grins. Each boy nodded happily eyeing up places to sit, Luke having fallen on the couch beside you. Julie shuffled making more room on the couch draping a blanket over her lap.

“So, Julie…comedy, horror, or romance?” You questioned raising one eyebrow up waiting for the reply, “Or we can subject the boys to Twilight. Then again Alex might enjoy Mean Girls.”

After reading the short description of the film Mean Girls was vetoed out along with Horror but the issue came with the move genre. Luke wanted a film with music while Reggie was asking for romance and Alex was just wanting to watch something.

“Pitch Perfect.” Julie and you spoke together nodding frantically, it had a moderately nice balance between music and romance.

“Pitch Perfect.” Alex stated unamused at the title, “How is that romance?”

“You’ll find out.” You smirked at the male dead teenager who would more than likely adore watching films to catch up on everything he missed during his twenty-five years in a dark room.

Every once in a while, Luke would gaze longingly at the food gathered around the only two living people. It was sad given the love he had had with food when he was still alive, he would anything in sight to be honest.

“Oh my god! The Breakfast Club! That came out ten years ago! It’s popular now?” Reggie exclaimed twisting to look to Julie.

“Gentle reminder. It came out thirty-five years ago. It’s a classic John Hughes! Of course, it’s popular.” You chuckled shaking your head by leaning back. You felt the caress of Luke’s gaze on your cheek but when you glanced over, he was staring hard at the screen.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” Luke nodded with a smile painted on his lips getting further into the comedy he found somewhat interesting. It was the song choices that got to him.

The music from your Spotify playlist muted the outside world as you focused on the computer screen open to a document. Eyes shifting between the paper of notes on your desk to the half-written History essay due in a few days. The last week had been mostly adapting to being one of two people able to see the band.

“Y/N.” Luke spoke from the doorway he had poofed into. A frown pulling the corner of his lips down at the lack of attention. In an action of desperation he chucked a pencil on your back; you flinched turning to see him in your room.

“Luke?” You asked removing an earbud from your ear. The joys of 2020 came with Bluetooth earbuds.

“Oh. You were listening to music.” Luke nodded moving to grab the earbud from the desk curiously, “Where are the wires? So small! How do they work?”

Launching into a short history on the change of music technology Luke was enthralled by the passion you carried. What he didn’t know was you were researching the changes between 1995 and 2020 for his benefit. Going as far as to compile a playlist for all three boys to introduce them to modern music.

“This is insane.” Luke mumbled handing the earbud back, “Cell phones are what get me!”

“Hey, doesn’t matter if your seventeen or forty-something…you still don’t understand it.” You smirked flinching when Luke tossed a decorative pillow at you with practiced ease. The squeal fell from your lips as it happened.

“If I was forty-something this would be very wrong.” Luke cheekily retorted tapping a finger on his knee thinking back on everything that happened, “Had everything gone to plan you would have known me only by music.”

“I’m sorry you died but I’m really happy we met.” The nerves evident in your tone, something that you didn’t often show. Softball was important and possibly the only ticket to college if everything went right.

“Me too.” Luke smile at the girl across him eyes so soft he could see what Alex and Reggie were trying to tell him.

Luke had a crush. Luke had feelings for a girl living and unable to feel his touch.

“Hey! I made a playlist for you guys. Let me know when you want to hear them, and I’ll get it playing for you. I have to get back to my essay. Feel free to stay.”

Luke graciously took the earbud from your hand leaning back on the bed as you played the rock he had unfortunately missed out on. Both unaware that his fingers had grazed your hand during the handoff. Luke has a crush and he can touch her too.

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@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h

#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #angst #caitsy and ash productions #jatp #jatp fanfic

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starshine583 · 3 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (12)

(Are you guys getting tagged for these??? I’ve been putting all of the names on here, but it doesn’t look right.. anyway, sorry if the tag doesn’t work. I tried!!! Anyone else who wants to get tagged or asked but isn’t getting tagged, please contact me and let me know!!!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 11 / Ch. 13 (ao3) (Journal Entries- a mini series connected to this fic)

Chapter 12: Quiet Conflictions of the Heart

Felix tapped his pencil against his textbook, staring blankly at the words that he wasn’t reading. The minutes ticked by on the grandfather clock that sat across the room next to the stairs, informing him of exactly how much time he was wasting by sitting there, and moonlight poured through the wide windows in front of him, signifying the beginnings of the evening. The fact that he started this assignment during the day and still had hardly anything done should have been frustrating, but Felix’s mind was too far lost in other thoughts for him to care.

As soon as Rosemary found out about his direct involvement with the akuma, they sent him, along with Marinette and the others, home for the day with light homework assignments and instructions to “take it easy”. The procedure was meant to help them regain composure and process the traumatizing events, but it only gave Felix more time to think.

And think.

And overthink. About him hitting the ground with Marinette, about her pulling them behind the fence only to run right out again, about her shocked and panicked expression upon being picked up by the akuma.

About her flailing body falling from the sky.

Felix set his pencil down and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. That scream still rang in his mind even hours later, sharp and blood-curdling, like a constant echo of a bad dream. He couldn’t help wondering what might have happened had Chat Noir not arrived on time, how she might have felt hitting the pavement, or if she would have survived at all. The very thought left him gripping his textbook and forcing a deep breath to relax. It hadn’t happened, after all. She was fine. Everything was fine..

And yet, no matter how many times he tried to push the gruesome images out of his mind, they continued to worm their way back in, fueled by how tame Allegra, Claude, and Allan’s reactions had been towards Marinette’s incredible risk of self. The girl almost died multiple times over the course of a single hour, and the only thing those idiots did was hug her and tell her that her actions were justified. Who cares if they were justified! Justification does not equate to rationality, and doing something for a good cause doesn’t always mean that it’s the right- or wise! -thing to do.

Normally, he could brush it off and ignore it. The experience had been daunting, of course, but he could accept it knowing that Marinette had learned her lesson, realized how stupid her decision was, and vowed not to do it again. The problem came with the little fact that Marinette hadn’t learned her lesson. Oh, she’d apologized and admitted that her actions weren’t properly thought through, but it was clear that she didn’t intend on waiting for the heroes any time soon. He couldn’t quite explain how he knew- maybe it was how calm she looked when she returned, as though everything had been in her control the entire time, or how she only smiled when he asked her not to do it again instead of fervently agreeing to his request -but he knew. Her entire demeanor gave way to her belief that her sacrifice had been both necessary and acceptable, and it disturbed him to think of how far she might be willing to go under that belief. What if she challenged another akuma that wasn’t nearly as polite or rational? What if she was alone next time this happened and didn’t have Allegra or Claude or himself to help her when things inevitably got out of hand? Why was she so willing to throw away her own life without a second thought?

“Felix?”

Felix flinched, his eyes snapping upwards. His mother stood next to the couch with a frown, which was odd. He hadn’t heard any footsteps approaching. How long had she been standing there?

Bridgette shot him a concerned look as she sat down next to him. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You’ve been on that same page for half an hour now.”

It’s been longer than that. He thought to himself, plucking up his pencil and closing his textbook. There was no point in leaving it open if he wasn’t going to read it.

“It’s nothing.” He muttered. “History homework just tends to be monotonous after a while.”

Bridgette narrowed her eyes at him, though her tone remained gentle as she said, “Oh, come now. You don’t expect me to believe that. We both know that you would sit and read every history book available if you had the time. What’s wrong?”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips. She could always read him well. Too well at times.

“Is it about the akuma attack?”

Felix felt himself stiffen, and he silently chided himself for it. That would be all she needed from him to know the answer.

It’s not that he wanted to hide his distress from her. He was simply unsure of whether he wanted to talk about it or not. The threat was over now, meaning all of this worrying was somewhat unreasonable, and Felix didn’t want to express irrational thoughts to his mother only for them to fade away by morning. It would just make this a bigger problem than it probably was.

Then again, watching your classmate casually wave off their jumping headfirst into an akuma and almost dying was a decently sized problem.

Bridgette lightly touched his shoulder. “Felix, honey, if it’s bothering you, then you need to talk about it. You can’t let things like this weigh on your mind unattended. It doesn’t have to be with me, but communicate with someone, please.”

The amount of earnestness in her voice caused him to avert his gaze, and he began tapping his finger on the arm of the couch. Her wording could almost be considered amusing, as he had no one else to talk to aside from her and Father. Allegra, Claude, and Allan clearly didn’t care as much about the subject as he did- not to mention, he’d rather spend his days putting up ad posters for Adrien Agreste than confide in them about anything personal -and Marinette was the cause of the problem. Besides hovering around those four, Felix was a common shut-in who proudly (and happily) hid himself away in the penthouse with his books and, on pleasant occasions, Mother’s tea.

Nevertheless, he knew that Bridgette was right. He needed to get these tangled ponderings off of his chest, but to do that, he’d have to unravel them first. Where should he start? The attack seemed as though it had happened within five minutes, yet it also seemed to drag on for hours. Time is a shaky illusion when your entire body is buzzing with adrenaline.

“I just don’t understand,” He said slowly, beginning with the thoughts at the forefront of his mind, “how they can all act like nothing happened. Marinette risked her life for no reason, and they all want to treat it as though it’s an everyday occurrence.”

“Who risked their life?”

Felix and Bridgette turned towards the stairs, where Felix’s father was now standing. The man’s eyebrows knitted together as he continued his descent, similar to how Bridgette’s expression had been a moment earlier, and in a few, long strides, he was standing in front of them.

“Oh, Francis.” Bridgette greeted with a smile. “I thought you were still working.”

“I was,” Francis replied, leaning down to give her a light peck on the lips, “but I came down to get a drink. What’s all this about someone risking their life?”

“Apparently, Marinette did during the akuma attack today.”

A disapproving hum came from him as he settled on the couch next to Bridgette. “Isn’t that the girl from school that he’s always talking about?”

Felix bristled. “I don’t always talk about her.”

A soft chuckle fell from his mother’s lips. “You do talk about her more often than anyone else, though.”

“Can we get back to the point?”

“Of course.” Francis said, lazily wrapping an arm around his wife. She leaned back against him naturally. “Start from the beginning. How did you get caught up in this akuma business in the first place?”

Felix sighed, letting his irritation quiet down before thinking back on the attack. Where were they when it happened again?

“I believe we were exiting the café.” He said. “Claude was telling some story as we walked to our cars, so we didn’t notice the akuma flying towards us until she was landing in this gust of wind that knocked us over.”

A ghost pain trailed up his back at the memory of skidding across the pavement. He didn’t get a chance to see it during the battle, but the prickling sting of the injury told him that his shoulders and back had been scraped up immensely, especially during the second blast. If the miraculous cure hadn’t healed him, he probably wouldn’t hadn’t been able to sit up straight now.

“As you can imagine, we were all terrified, since we’d never seen anything like this in person before, but Marinette wasn’t. She grabbed all of us and helped us hide behind a fence within the first few seconds of falling. It was like she hadn’t been phased by it at all.”

“Perhaps she’s simply more level-headed during a crisis.” His father suggested.

“I’d assume so,” Felix replied, “but it’s strange considering she’s usually someone who would jump at their own shadow.”

“True, but people with anxiety can still flourish in a stressful environment.” Bridgette remarked.

Felix tilted his head in a nod. He supposed that was true.

“The akuma said she wasn’t going to hurt anyone, only the buildings to get the heroes’ attention.” He continued. “But Marinette didn’t like the thought of that, saying the people in the buildings might get hurt or killed. So she decided to counter the claim by running out to the akuma to lure them away.”

“That’s very noble of her.” Francis commented.

Felix tisked. How many times has he heard that now?

“Noble and stupid. She was a powerless bystander running straight into danger. Am I the only one who sees a problem with that?”

“Sometimes you have to try to do what’s right even though you might not be able to succeed,” Bridgette said softly, “but I can understand why you would be distraught about her actions. You didn’t want to see her get hurt, and that’s not a bad thing. It proves you care.”

Felix’s gaze flicked to the ground. Admitting his recent attachment to Marinette hadn’t sounded irksome before. She was a kind and compassionate person who hadn’t failed yet in giving him a sense of satisfaction after each of their conversations. Anyone with half a brain would gravitate towards her presence. After everything that’s happened today, however, a part of him was starting to resent that sentiment. Why did he have to care for the one person who would openly throw themselves to the wolves without prompting?

“What happened next?” His mother prompted, tugging him from his thoughts.

Felix drew in a breath and continued again. “She told the akuma that she could lead them to the bigger, corporate buildings, since that was apparently what they wanted. I didn’t understand it at the time, because wouldn’t that bring more death? But looking back on it now, it was probably a ploy to stall time. I doubt she actually intended on leading the akuma anywhere.”

It was quick thinking, considering they’d all gotten attacked seconds earlier, but it hadn’t been quick enough to account for the consequences.

“The akuma accepted the offer and used more wind to carry Marinette into the air with them.” Felix paused, Allegra’s horrified cry resurfacing in his mind. “It was.. nerve wracking. We didn’t know what was going to happen or what the akuma was going to do to her later on.”

Bridgette reached forward and rubbed his upper arm, giving her silent support, and Felix leaned into her touch as thanks.

“I ran after them. I’m not really sure how, but I did.” He said, gazing absently towards the windows again. His reflection stared back at him, along with the glittering stars and illuminated city behind it. How many alleyways did he run through? Five? Seven? He knew he couldn’t see the cafe by the time he stopped, nor could he hear Allegra and the others calling.

“I followed them for a few blocks,” He resumed, deeming the exact number of alleyways unimportant. It was what came next that shook him to his core. “I thought I had lost them at one point, but then I caught a glimpse of Marinette in the air again. She looked like she was talking with the akuma again, but I couldn’t hear what was being said. Then..”

Felix briefly closed his eyes, once again trying to push the image of Marinette’s flailing body out of his mind.

It didn’t work.

“..Then she fell.” His voice was quieter than he expected, but he kept going anyway. “I’m not sure what happened. All I saw was this silver pole that came out of nowhere and hit the akuma, and suddenly, Marinette was falling from the sky and screaming.”

And screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming. He had to stand there and watch her fall, knowing full well that he couldn’t do a thing to save her. The feeling of helplessness that overtook him in that moment had been overbearing.

A classmate passing away was not something he hadn’t experienced before- accidents happened every year, and sometimes, those accidents involved Rosemary students- but he’d never witnessed their deaths personally. It was something you heard about over the morning announcements or from your teacher at the beginning of class, not something you stood there and watched in a daze, and he’d certainly never lost someone that he-- someone that was so-

“I heard later that Chat Noir saved her mid-air.” He added, if only to help his parents’ nerves. The anxiety crawling across their expressions was evident. “I wasn’t aware of that until after I went to look for her, though.”

Until after he scoured the dismantled streets and ever-increasing debris for signs of her. Until after he lifted boulder upon boulder by adrenaline alone and being torn about whether he’d want to see her under one or not. Until after he called her name till his voice was hoarse and searched relentlessly for some kind of clue, like a shoe or a purse or even blood.

Gosh, he looked for blood! Felix was out there, in the middle of a terrorist attack, looking for the lifeless corpse or the splattered blood of his classmate, and everyone wanted to act like that was fine simply because she came back alright. How could any of them be considered alright after that?

“She could have died.” He stated for the millionth time it felt like. She probably will die if she keeps doing this. “But no one seems to care. They all brush it off because she’s safe now, instead of worrying about the fact that she purposely decided not to be safe beforehand.”

Bridgette let out a breath and pulled Felix into a hug.

“I’m so sorry that you had to endure that.” She whispered, her voice full of emotion. It reminded him of Marinette’s apology back at the cafe. The way she carefully held his hand, the warmth of her palm against his- it told him, in that moment, that she truly was there and that she truly was safe again. That confirmation had admittedly been one of the things to keep him from unraveling towards the end of the fight.

Felix felt the slender fingers of his father ruffle through his hair. “You went through something that no one should have to go through, but you also made it out alive. And so did everyone else. Remember that.”

Bridgette’s cheek brushed against Felix’s forehead as she nodded. “I know it’s scary, and you have a right to acknowledge it in your own way, but don’t let yourself get carried away with the ‘what if’s and ‘what should have been’s'. You’ll never be satisfied with them.”

Felix heaved a heavy sigh and allowed his eyes to drift shut. After a full day of almost dying, almost watching someone else die, and worrying about both of those subjects for hours on end, he was officially exhausted. Felix couldn’t remember the last time he’d put so much energy into a single event.

Maybe it was best to just let it go..

~~~~~~

By the time Marinette arrived home from Rosemary, her parents were beside themselves with worry. Apparently, they saw her on the news while they were working and spent the last hour and a half trying to reach her. Marinette had been either running around as Ladybug or talking with Allegra on the phone so she hadn’t noticed her phone ringing.

They doted on her and hovered around her for a good twenty minutes, with Marinette insisting that she was fine and apologizing the entire time.

“Chat Noir saved me before I could really get hurt.” She assured, plastering on a bright smile. “And the miraculous cure healed any scratches that I might have gotten. See?-” she held her arms up and did a small twirl “-I really am fine. But I’ll try to keep my ringtone on from now on.”

Her parents’ worried looks didn’t change.

“We were hoping that transferring schools would keep you away from akumas.” Her papa lamented. “How do you keep getting caught up in these fights?”

“I don’t know, Papa.” She replied honestly. Maybe some of her partner’s bad luck had rubbed off on her. “I was hoping I wouldn’t run into any more akumas too.”

Sabine sighed and gently rubbed her daughters back. “Well, as long as you’re alright.. Would you like to see the package that came for you?”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows, confused. “A package? For me?”

Tom nodded, a small smile returning to his features. “From a Mr. Claude Herolds. We put it upstairs in the living room.”

“Tried to.” Sabine corrected under her breath.

Marinette tilted her head slightly. A package from Claude? But what could he be giving her that he couldn’t give in perso-

“My fabrics!” She gasped, immediately shooting for the stairs. Her parents chuckled behind her, but she hardly heard them in her excitement. The fabrics finally came! How many were there going to be? What kind of fabrics? He hadn’t really specified when he talked about buying them, though she gave him as detailed of a list as she could. Oh, please, be the good ones-

Marinette threw the front door to their apartment open, coming to a dead stop as soon as she entered. The mere sight of their living room had her jaw dropping to the floor.

Claude had indeed sent her a package of fabrics, but her parents happened to leave out exactly how much fabric he had sent. There were rolls upon rolls lining the couch and the floor, hiding in the corners of the room, sitting on the coffee table and the dining room table- it was too much to count. She was quite certain that she couldn’t see the floor!

Just- Just fabrics.

Fabrics everywhere.

Marinette turned to her parents, who had since caught up to her. They shared eager smiles as they waited for her reaction, and she quickly found herself smiling as well. In fact, she found herself down right laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Who needs this much fabric for three suits? How did Maman and Papa manage to bring it up in the first place? What did the deliverer think as he loaded this up into his truck to take to one person? How was she going to fit it all into her room?

Nevertheless, despite the insanity of the situation, she couldn’t help being ecstatic. This was more fabric than she could have ever dreamed of having, and it was all of the highest quality. So, with the help of her parents and her steely resolve, Marinette got to work on carrying the “package” up to her room in the attic.

It took a while, as one would expect. They had to stop several times for Marinette to rearrange her room simply so she wouldn’t be completely swimming in fabric by the time they got everything up there. They also had to make sure she could reach her trapdoor to get out of her room, her stairs to get to her bed, and her desk to work with the fabrics in general. This resulted in her creating a sort of obstacle course with the few solid things in her room that she could stand on without the fear of breaking something.

“I can’t even believe it, Tikki.” She said to her kwami once her parents went back down to the bakery. “Look at all of this! How am I even going to use it all? This is crazy!”

Despite her words of disbelief, she had the widest grin on her face, so wide that it was starting to hurt. Claude had told her that once she was done with his suit, she could keep any of the leftover supplies, since he supposedly had no use for it. She assumed it was his own little way of paying for the outfit, even though she’d told him that she would make it for free.

Tikki zipped around the room, giggling as she inspected the different types of fabric. “You could make him ten different suits with all of this!”

Marinette laughed. “Tikki, I could probably make him thirty five different suits and still have some leftover.”

She walked over to the piles of fabric in front of her and plucked up the first one that caught her eye. It was a deep blue silk that sheened under her bedroom lights, and she smiled at the mesmerizing display. Marinette had used silk before, but nothing like this. This was the type of silk that she imagined royalty to have, something smooth and soft and slick as butter. It was incredible, and she couldn’t wait to start working with it.

Marinette picked out a few more fabrics, the finest of the bunch, and brought them over to her desk to compare the colors and theorize how they might look together. If Claude was going to give her the best of the best, she was certainly going to return the favor by giving him the most regal and enchanting suit she could muster. Not to mention, this was an amazing, probably once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Fabric of this quality was something she could never get on her own without saving months and months of allowance, and that was only to buy one roll. The fact that she had piles upon piles of this fabric at her disposal now was a miracle in and of itself. She couldn’t waste a piece of it.

She rolled the blue silk out across her desk to begin measuring, but just as she pulled out her sketchbook for extra notes and other things, her phone buzzed next to her, informing her that she’d received a text.

DancingQueen: Hey guys! Mom said that February eighth would work well for the sleepover if you’re all free! I think it’d be a great way to celebrate winter break.

A soft, delighted gasp passed her lips after reading Allegra’s text on the group chat. With the whole akuma battle and receiving Claude’s fabrics, she’d completely forgotten about the sleepover that they talked about earlier.

She quickly switched the calendar app to check her schedule, and her smile widened at the sight of an empty time slot. She appeared to be free that day.

Marinette found herself beginning to wiggle with joy on her rolling chair as she switched back to the messaging app. This was going to be her first sleepover with her new friends! It would also be the first time going to one of their houses! What was Allegra’s house going to look like? Would it be a mansion like Gabriel Agreste’s? She hoped it didn’t have high walls.

Another text drew her thoughts back to her phone, where a message from Claude had just appeared.

TheBetterShakespeare: works for me! What time are we gonna come over?

DancingQueen: I was thinking right after school like usual

TrebleChild: Sounds good to me :)

Marinette perked up when Allan joined the conversation. That meant most of them were going to be there! All they needed now was Felix.

She began typing.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: February eighth works great for me too! I’ll probably stop by the house for my clothes and stuff first though lol

DancingQueen: Of course! I can send a car by to pick you up if you want?

TheBetterShakespeare: Woohoo! Mari’s coming! All we need now is Felix

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Oh, you don’t have to! I don’t mind walking

DancingQueen: Are you sure? The walking distance is pretty far, and I totally don’t mind sending a car! (no pressure though. If you wanna walk that’s also fine!)

Marinette pulled her lip between her teeth in thought. Whatever the walking distance, she could probably just swing over as Ladybug within a few minutes. That way, she didn’t have to bother Allegra. If she got there too fast as Marinette, though, they might be suspicious.. Well, not suspicious, but curious because getting there faster than her legs could possibly carry her would be odd.

Ugh, just take the car. She told herself. It’ll be easier than carrying your luggage around while swinging through the air anyway.

TrebleChild: You think Felix is going to respond on here?

Marinette glanced down at Allan’s text and frowned. That was a good question.

After the akuma, Felix seemed to shut down. He hardly uttered a word to anyone, even after they were sent home early from school. She supposed he tended to be quiet in the first place, but it just felt different. It was as though he were in some trance, lost in the distant corners of his mind. He wouldn’t even talk to her all that much. Not that she was someone special to him or anything. They just.. They normally exchanged more comments to each other than they did on the way out of the school. Either way, she’d be surprised if he actually texted them back that night.

TheBetterShakespeare: Oh he’s going to have to respond when I’m done

Claude’s reply caused Marinette to suck in a breath and cringe. Oh, what was he going to do to poor Felix now?

Allan and Allegra appeared to have the same thought, as they quickly texted back.

DancingQueen: Oh dear

Marshmallow Man: Uh oh

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Claude, maybe you shouldn’t bother Felix. He already doesn’t like the group

TheBetterShakespeare: LET’S

TheBetterShakespeare: FLUSH

TheBetterShakespeare: HIM

TheBetterShakespeare: OUT

DancingQueen: Claude, please-

TheBetterShakespeare: I’M

TheBetterShakespeare: NOT

TheBetterShakespeare: STOPPING

Marshmallow Man: Dude

TheBetterShakespeare: UNTIL

TheBetterShakespeare: FELIX

TheBetterShakespeare: DECIDES

TheBetterShakespeare: TO

TheBetterShakespeare: SHOW

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: What do you want?!

TheBetterShakespeare: HIMSELF

TheBetterShakespeare: Oh hey Felix!

Although she felt extremely bad for the blond, Marinette had to purse her lips to avoid laughing. She could practically hear the growl in his voice, and the image of Felix’s signature glare flashed through her mind. He had to be so annoyed right now.

TrebleChild: I’m surprised you didn’t just delete the app again

Rolling-Eye-Emoji:You know, that’s a marvelous idea.

The BetterShakespeare: NOOOOO ALLAN SHUT UP

DancingQueen: lol we were wondering if you were free February eighth, Felix.

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Free for what?

TheBetterShakespeare: Can’t you just tell us if ur free or not?

TrebleChild: for the sleepover at Allegra’s house

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: We’re still doing that?

TheBetterShakespeare: Absolutely!

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: If you’re up for it!

TheBetterShakespeare: Mari that statement was way too nice for Felix

TheBetterShakespeare: You gotta drag him kicking and screaming or he’ll never do anything!

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Why don’t you take a guess as to why?

TheBetterShakespeare: because you don’t know how to have fun and it’s our job to teach you

TrebleChild: Claude, you’re never going to get him to the sleepover that way

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Claude, you couldn’t teach a cat how to climb a tree, and I know how to have fun just fine.

Marinette snorted towards Felix’s reply. She often wondered how he managed to perfect his sarcasm and cutting remarks to a fault. Did he read a book on it somehow or was it just practice?

TheBetterShakespeare: RUDE

DancingQueen: lol Felix, are you free on the eighth or not?

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: ..I’d have to check my schedule.

TheBetterShakespeare: Don’t laugh at him Allegra!

DancingQueen: Hey, if it’s funny it’s funny lol

DancingQueen: Do that please, Felix

TheBetterShakespeare: Betrayal!! I can’t believe I was naive enough to trust you!

DancingQueen: Oh whatever. It’s not like you haven’t laugh at me before

Marinette chuckled as she continued to set up the silk fabric. She almost worried about using her sewing machine for it in case it ripped, but hand sewing it wasn’t an option either. That would take way too long, and she wanted to finish this for Claude as soon as possible. (without cutting corners of course)

“Oh!” She gasped, straightening in her chair. She hadn’t told Claude about the fabrics arriving yet! He’d probably want to know that.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Hey Claude, I almost forgot to tell you but your fabric arrived today!

TheBetterShakespeare: Really?!

Marinette smiled and stood up from her rolling chair to take a picture of the room. She then sent the picture to the group with an added message:

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: I could barely fit it all in my room!

The responses were immediate.

TrebleChild: WOAH

DancingQueen: CLAUDE

TrebleChild: you sent that much?!

TheBetterShakespeare: …

TheBetterShakespeare: I may have gotten carry away

Marinette giggled and shook her head.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: PLEASE feel free to get carried away anytime you like, I’ve literally never been happier

DancingQueen: lol

TrebleChild: lol

TheBetterShakespeare: Will do! 😉

Marinette smiled and set her phone down again, before rolling her chair over to the other fabrics to pick another one out. Her phone buzzed as she rolled back, notifying her of the new additions to the group chat.

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Mother said that the eighth of February would work fine.

Marinette let out a squeal. They were all going! This was going to be the best sleepover ever!

TheBetterShakespeare: Aw yisss group sleepover!!

TrebleChild : awesome, so we’re meeting right after school?

DancingQueen: Yep! Except for Mari who needs to go get her clothes. Did you want me to send you a car Mari?

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: If you don’t mind :)

DancingQueen: Nope! I’ll make sure to tell you when it’s on its way.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Thanks 😁

DancingQueen: Of course! See you guys at school tomorrow!

TheBetterShakespeare: See you Al!

TrebleChild: Bye A

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: See you tomorrow!

Marinette set her phone down and let out another squeal of excitement as she kicked her legs back and forth.

Her first group sleepover with everyone!

How do you make time go faster?

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester

#felinette #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids

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arcadialedger · 3 years

Text

Please note that I am most likely leaving this platform. I am done being abused. But first? We need to have a discussion. A discussion about hate and bullying in fandom.

All online-- I encourage you to read my story below. Reblog and spread awareness. The Dragon Prince fandom especially -- I implore you read my words, every single one of them. The short of it is that I am done.

This all began with losing and being blocked by a friend because I shared something they disagreed with. I don’t care what you feel about my initial reaction to this (which I’ll explain below) -- I’ve apologized for not handling the situation correctly. But I will not be shamed for speaking my mind and standing up for myself.

Because no human being deserves to go through what I have endured since last summer.

Following the “callout” post made about me by one of, if not the largest blogs in this fandom, I received hundreds of threats, harassment messages, and death threats. Messages and posts telling me to kill myself were also prominent, on a multiple times a week basis for awhile.

Messages from people who were well aware I have struggled with being suicidal. Due to one of their favorite Dragon Prince blogs speaking out against me, they thought it was okay to suicide bait me.

And it worked. I already struggle with hating myself, am already insecure, and being flooded with these comments which, while I made mistakes, did nothing to deserve, drove me to try and take my own life after years of progress in my mental health.

Mind you, this is like a 200 follower to 4k follower power dynamic. Which yes, plays a role-- because when you have a large following and influence, you have power. Yet the person behind this had the gall to claim Tumblr clout isn’t real.

People blocking and condemning others instantly at your word? Is power. If people read your words and are influenced, or have their minds changed, or buy or don’t buy something, etc.-- you are an influencer. You have power. And when you’re one of the largest blogs in a fandom, you have a LOT of power.

So take responsibility.

I was hurt because I lost a friend who I had chatted with for months, did a podcast with, and was generally not only one of my favorite blogs but the center of my experience in the Dragon Prince. I may not have been perfect in my words, but when I was asked why I was quiet/ inactive, I explained how I was hurting, anonymously. I was understandably in pain and upset. I had been cut off for just having a different opinion on a matter, for thinking differently. Even though it was within their rights to block and do so, it felt wrong and it weighed on me.

Is that such a crime?

The callout post and previously described abuse followed, lasting for months until later in the year (this began in June, or around then). It also included screenshots of tweets, when this user does not have Tumblr, and they have stated to have screenshots stored up on their computer of my various posts and interactions. This is creepy behavior, and freaked me out. I felt like I was being stalked, “evidence” being filed away for the very purpose of being used against me.

I eventually talked things out with the blog per recommendation of my therapist, and thought all would be fine. For a little while, it was. I largely stayed off of Tumblr to heal. Once in awhile I would have a rough, tearful night because something reminded me of what I lost, but I would make it through. Overall, I was making progress.

Then? My Twitter got hacked by one of the people sending me hate. For what had turned out to be much. And after they tweeted some purposefully incriminating and bigoted things to make me look bad, I came home from a weekend in the mountains to a shitstorm.

Twitter has a love hate relationship for me and I barely opened the app unless actively chatting with a friend. So when I saw 700+ notifications, I was surprised. It had never happened before.

I began to scroll through, and when I saw what had happened, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

I had lost over half of my followers and a solid 60% of previous Twitter mutuals had blocked me. But worst of all, I had hundreds of hate tweets directed at me replying to the hackers tweets. Messages had been sent in DMs and accounts blocked, followed, and unfollowed as well.

If you have never felt that loss of agency-- that sickening feeling of words you never said next to your profile-- be glad. Because it is traumatic. I value my words. I value what I have to say. And having that taken from me was worse than anything I had been through here on Tumblr, outside of the suicide baiting (the most direct attack to me and my emotions/ insecurities throughout this entire ordeal). Further, this hacker had clearly stalked my tweets based on some of their comments.

Hundreds of tweets bashing me, calling me aphobic slurs (knowing I am asexual mind you, as it was in my bio), making fun of my appearance and targeting all of the insecurities which lead to my first suicide attempt in high school, and taking/ editing images of my face and mocking them. This all culminated in a doxing threat-- a doxing threat which made me feel unsafe on a campus I had already been sexually assaulted on. I was once again, after starting the healing process, thrusted back into the darkest time of my life and spiraled into anxiety and depression. I cried a lot overwhelmed by it all, had difficulty sleeping, and felt sick. I started fall semester and couldn’t concentrate on school. I was a mess.

I had once again been condemned, this time for something I had no part in. I tried to example what happened but nobody listened. I had been hung without trial. People were understandably confused, and my entire reputation on the platform, and my page, became a mess of lies, misunderstandings, and more.

If you don’t know the feeling of already hating yourself and being insecure, and having these beliefs reinforced and spread by hundreds publicly across the internet? Of already feeling lonely and unwanted and having the one space you thought you had taken from you? Consider yourself lucky.

I had a lot of voice actors and creators following me-- accounts I interacted and greatly cherished my mutual with. A handful of them unfollowed, understandably. This online hate mob was sending messages to people demanding they unfollow me, including some of these creators. They had no idea what to make of this mess or what was real and true and just didn’t want to deal with it. Most of the others just stopped interacting with me. @aaronwaltke (tagging so those who don’t follow already click and do so, because he is absolutely fantastic-- he’s a writer for ToA) who had followed me on the platform, graciously wished me peace with the entire situation after I checked to make sure he had not been subjected to messages or hate, either from my hacker or other accounts. His was the greatest compassion I got on Twitter, before I ultimately ended up just having to delete.

I lost podcast deals because of this with Adrian Petriw, Aaron Ehasz, and Justin Richmond. I do not blame them one bit and would have done the same in the confusion not wanting to get dragged into anything.

Only to have one of the friends I lost who helped start this interview these very people on their own podcasts. A slap in the face. A zine I had bought to support them came to my door, with the front page proclaiming to “spread a narrative of love.”

I was never granted that chance. That compassion. I had the vultures sent after me with no mercy. And anyone who has been through online abuse and systemic harassment knows just how much it feels like they’re slowly but surely picking at your flesh ( a metaphor I used in one of my old, since deleted posts discussing the situation, and still find accurate), wearing you down until you have no strength left.

Make no mistake, my story is not a one off situation. Many share the same tale of abuse and being driven off of platforms that once gave them great joy. These attacks are coordinated, systemic, and common hobby for these people-- who largely claim to be loving and accepting of all. They are a cyberbullying phenomenon which has risen with the presence of fandom on the internet. And I want to make clear, with current discussions of “cancel culture”, I mean nothing political in that statement. Some might call my experience cancel culture, but I don’t.

It’s just bullying. It’s just hate. These people get off on ruining people’s lives.

And my life was greatly set back and ruined. I had a stain on my past in fandom I could never be rid of. I had to shut down my podcast, took time off of all social media, and most of what I had built, most of my growth, was taken from me while those who incited and/ or spread hate thrived and continued to grow and find success. That was the greatest sting of all.

I asked the one previous friend who hadn’t blocked me, but had just stopped interacting with me (which I understood and respected, and also greatly respected her perspective, help, and support though this situation in which she largely unfortunately ended up in the middle) for help after explaining everything, and got nothing. They didn’t seem to care, and just blocked me on all platforms. Once in awhile, I would find I was cut off from yet another old friend, or a blog that I had never interacted with before but clicked into, interested. It hurt being cut off, unable to fully interact with the fandom, but I could move on.

That pain would never go away, but I made clear I did not blame them for the actions of those who abused, harassed, and threatened me. I also made it clear they did not owe me anything, including unblocking.

I just wanted to move on peacefully, but those with the power to enable that did not wish to help. I slowly, when I felt ready, began to be more active on Tumblr again, and once again the hate started up.

Sometimes when I was hurting, I expressed my pain and loss to my followers just to reach out, because I was sad. I had no idea how to rebuild from all that had happened. This got me more hate an accusations of emotional manipulation and gaslighting. I had no idea what to do, and got trapped in a cycle of needing to talk about it, and getting hate and backlash, but not knowing where else I could turn.

My doxer came back into my asks, ultimately making me switch schools, and refueled the drama. Speaking up about this got me more backlash-- mostly accounts reblogging (one with tags saying “fuck you”, despite not knowing the full story, and commenting and then blocking me so I could do nothing to respond or get it off of my page. I deleted all posts of the matter, as requested by these people (who validly pointed out they were in the main fandom tags, which I hadn’t thought of and understood), and hoped to move on.

But it hasn’t stopped. I have been beaten down and emotionally bruised for months. I have had my life and safety threatened, my education and by extension life path altered, and lost work (podcast) opportunities due to this-- alongside the irreversible emotional damage from trauma and abuse. My mental health issues and insecurities-- which I have been very open about to destigmatize the subjects and encourage conversation-- were actively targeted to inflict the most pain possible.

And I can’t even talk about it, without enduring more hate and accusations of “playing the victim”.

Death threats, suicide baiting, doxing, months of bullying and harassment to the most vile degree, which a lot of these people don’t know about because they don’t even bother to read my words. Yet I’m playing the victim.

And the accusations of bigotry and being hateful hurt, because it couldn’t be further from what is in my heart. I believing in love and acceptance of all. I don’t know how many are religious here, but I found God after my first suicide attempt and that is what his word has taught me.

I’ve been through too much in life to tolerate this, for lack of a more eloquent term, bullshit. I know what abuse and victim blaming looks like when I see it. And in my 20 years of life, I have gone through too much: constant ridicule and bullying, suicide attempts, sexual assault, major spinal surgery, to just be stomped over and not stand up for my right to basis human decency.

I refuse to put up with this, so unless I get an apology and some semblance of justice for everything I have been through, I am leaving. I will not participate in a space run by hate and toxicity. I will never claim to be perfect, and I have apologized for my mistakes and wrongdoings. Now, hold those who did this accountable. If you’re reading this you know very well who it was, and I am not naming them for those who don’t. Because at the end of the day I still send nothing but love and wish no ill will towards them.

But I’ll be damned if I don’t expect accountability of one of the greatest influencers in the fandom for their complacency in abuse, threats, suicide baiting, and and absolute ruining of my life and online experience. They enabled this and were well aware they had the power to stop it-- to ask their followers to stop-- and did nothing. They didn’t care-- about a human’s life and well being.

@dragonprinceofficial, are you aware that this is what many of the fans of your show, which preaches love and an end to the cycle of vengeance, do to others? That this is happening in your space? If you stand at all by the values you preach, condemn it. @staffTumblr/ @supportTumblr-- shame on you for allowing this abuse to happen and ignoring my reports. Shame on you for permitting these people to operate in your platform and for being okay with hosting hate. People have been driven to suicide on your website-- I am one of the lucky ones.

If you care at all about humanity and stand against this behavior, reblog and spread awareness. Share my story so I may not happen to anyone else. Tag @dragonprinceofficial until they notice and speak out.

This is my story, and so many others. Make sure it doesn’t happen ever again. No human being deserves to be treated how I was. Everyone deserves compassion, decency, and respect. And everyone deserves a place in fandom. Do better. If you want to reach out to me DMs are open, as well as my email, which is attached to my account. Until this change happens and I am given the support/ help needed to safely function on this platform, this blog will not be active outside of that.

Thank you all of the many accounts who have supported me, and I am working on getting back to all who have reached out! Your love means the world. You know who you are, and I don’t want to tag in case people come after you for showing me kindness. I am sorry if this is goodbye, to all that have enjoyed my blog. I enjoyed it for a long time too. I loved sharing my passion for stories, culture, having a space where I could analyze and discuss my favorite things. I loved getting to share what I had to offer with the world, having fun and posting jokes with my unique sense of humor. I loved interacting with intelligent people/ fellow fans and discussing my favorite stories, offering each other new insights and growing together. I loved the many, many kind and wonderful people who reached out to me in a variety of ways and provided support and friendship.

In the end, it just isn’t worth all of this pain and trauma, and I know when to put my foot down. I don’t want pity, I don’t want apologizes, and I’m not a martyr. I just want my story to make a difference-- to spur positive change in fandom culture/ spaces. I will be tagging all fandoms in which I have seen this kind of abuse present as well, to reach as many as possible.

Be safe, and be kind.

- The Arcadia Ledger/ Ryn/ Katie, signing off.

154 notes · View notes

notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Art credit: @ mudubu00 on Twitter

Part 13: After Aizawa gets hurt, you and Shinsou speed over to the hospital to make sure he’s okay and yell at him for worrying you like that. Ojiro tags along to give his support as well as check in on the four of his classmates that were hurt in the yakuza fight. A week later, Aizawa brings you in, hoping that you can connect with the little girl that they rescued and encourage her to eat something. He didn’t expect it to go so well but now he has one more little joy to look after.

Word Count: 6.7k

“Dad, are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You asked worriedly as you two came to a halt in front of the hospital. The two of you were officially skipping school for the day.

But this white building sure was a familiar sight.

You hadn’t been with him when he and a bunch of other pros, along with Kirishima, Asui, Uraraka and Midoriya had infiltrated the yakuza and rescued the little girl called Eri.

You had watched it on the news in the dorms, on the edge of your seat, hands clasped over your mouth fearfully with the rest of your classmates as the events unfolded right there on the screen.

How the press was able to capture a battle of that size in person and not be shaken with fear their core was beyond you.

But after seeing how much they went through, you couldn’t help but sprint out of the dorm along with Shinsou as the media caught a glimpse of Aizawa being dragged out by Rock Lock.

It was far away, but he was slumped over as if he was unconscious.

You needed to be there. He needed you.

Ojiro chased after you just in time to see you crash into two teachers just outside of the dorms who were also beside themselves with worry.

They were already on their way to where Aizawa was getting treated, and you didn’t waste any time begging Mic to let you see him while Shinsou won over Midnight.

It didn’t take too long to receive their permission and Ojiro tagged along with the two of you because he was equally worried about his friends who were injured in the battle as well as how you were taking it.

Upon arrival, the hospital was so busy that both boys beside you made sure not to take their eyes off of you as they steered you through the crowd, following Yamada and Kayama as they weaved in and out.

Since you were legally Aizawa’s daughter and Shinsou held a special bond with him as well, it wasn’t too hard to let you both see him first when the nurses asked who wanted to see him first as soon as he woke up from the anesthetic.

Ojiro held you the entire way there as your body racked with sobs, wrapping his tail around you in the waiting area despite the numerous odd glances that passed through even though Shinsou did a good job of fending off the nosy civilians with a sharp glare.

You sniffled, fingers tightening on the lapels of his school-issued jacket as you fought the urge to cry. “Why won’t they let me see him?”

Brushing the hair back from your eyes, he petted you gently. Your ears were pinned flat against your head in distress and your nose was blotchy, watery eyes staring up at him with such pain that he couldn’t help but feel it too.

“They need to check up on Aizawa-sensei first before we can see him, Y/N.” Ojiro told you, sensitive to the conflicted emotions you must be going through.

You sobbed quietly, beyond worried since the doctors haven’t let you see him yet. They wouldn’t tell you anything except that he was alive and stable. Shinsou sat quietly, apart from the two of you, unable to bring himself to make small talk with Ojiro who was holding you gently.

Things were still a little awkward between them. They hadn’t talked to each other since their encounter at the UA Sports Festival.

Now, it would seem that they couldn’t avoid each other since they both held an important place in your life.

This would need to get resolved. And quickly.

It felt like hours, but when the doctors finally gave you permission for the three of you to step in and see him, asking for immediate family only, you nearly sprinted into his room.

Ojiro, who already suspected that was going to be the case, reassured you prior that it was okay for you and Shinsou to visit your dad. He was going to pay a visit to Uraraka, Midoriya, Asui and Kirishima, who were also in the same hospital, and meet up with you once you were done.

“Dad!!” You cried out as you flung the door open, racing over to where he was laying on the cot. “Dad!!!”

His head was wrapped in bandages and his shoulder was in a sling. There was a single window and no other patients in the room. That was lucky for you because you were bawling your eyes out.

Aizawa groaned tiredly, turning towards you and smiled softly as you hit his rail and yelled at him for being so reckless and not telling you where he went. “You’re so noisy, kid.”

Your body racked with sobs as you cried, not even registering when Shinsou caught up to you, Yamada and Kayama stepping inside quietly before shutting the door.

“You look terrible.” Shinsou drawled nonchalantly, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he tried to appear as if he wasn’t worried.

Aizawa rolled his eyes, peering past him to find his two best friends waiting for him to notice them.

He groaned more out of feigned annoyance than pain as Mic squished him in a hug. “Not you again.”

Yamada’s cry of outrage almost caused the windows to crack as he accidentally used his quirk. “Shouta, you’re so mean!!!”

You and Shinsou shushed him so harshly that it evoked a giggle from Kayama.

“You better listen to them.” She teased a now guilty looking Yamada. “They’re his kids after all.”

“Nemuri~” He whined.

“Mic, quit being a baby.” She snapped, before marching over to Aizawa and scolding him for being so reckless just like you had done a minute prior.

After dramatically proclaiming how his pride was wounded, Yamada calmed down. Kind of.

Nobody in the room said it, but you could see how his fingers shook as he latched onto Aizawa’s bedside rail and the click of Kayama’s heels as she paced back and forth, giving away her anxiety.

You and Shinsou exchanged a look, then left to go outside without a word. Aizawa didn’t stop you, already suspecting what the two of you were doing.

All three adults froze as the door clicked close and Aizawa sighed heavily.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” He told them quietly, his voice scratchy and Kamaya was immediately fetching some water for him from the sink, ordering him to drink before he said anything else.

Yamada crossed his legs as he sank to the ground, his eyes flitting up to meet his best friend’s. His insanely stupid best friend who had landed himself in the hospital yet again.

“You’re an idiot, worrying us like that.” He mumbled and Aizawa cracked a smile.

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

Outside, you sank down to the ground that was honestly probably not very clean while Shinsou leaned against the opposite wall.

He exhaled forcefully, rubbing the back of his neck in subtle relief. “Close call, huh?”

Your fluffy ears twitched and you nodded, causing them to flop back and forth. “Yeah.”

Thank goodness his injuries weren’t extensive. Other than a shallow knife wound to the shoulder and back, he was okay. He would be fatigued for awhile thanks to Recovery Girl’s quirk but that was all.

You hoped.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” You asked quietly.

Battles weren’t just about physical exertion, they were also draining mentally. You didn’t know how much of a toll this one would take on him or the repercussions that would follow.

Shinsou stayed quiet for a moment, thinking it over. If it was anyone else, he would’ve brushed them off or replied in his blunt, instinctual way but this was you he was talking about. He cared more than most others.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” He said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Da— Aizawa-sensei’s strong.”

A broad, toothy grin split across your features.

“You almost said ‘dad’~” You sang merrily, a teasing light in your eye and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” Shinsou muttered, ignoring you now that you had switched on your annoying side.

“It’ll happen one day.” You stated firmly, hands balling into fists determinedly as you declared your stance. “And when it does, you can’t take it back. And I get all rights to boast about it in the future.”

Shinsou waved you off and an easier silence encompassed the two of you.

Kayama came back out to get you both after an hour approximately passed, a rare apologetic expression on her face as she apologized for taking so long. Shinsou brushed it off and you reassured her that it was okay.

You were all worried about him. Apparently, he had been dipping in and out of consciousness ever since he arrived due to the pain meds but he was going to be okay.

Yamada was slouched over Aizawa’s bedside and when Kayama came in after you and Shinsou, she planted herself down next to the unusually quiet loudmouth.

You and Shinsou took up the other side, eyes growing heavy with how taxing today had been and it wasn’t long before you two drifted off, the adults following suit soon after.

When Aizawa came to and saw the four of you near him, he couldn’t help but smile tiredly. The sight was rare and no one was squabbling incessantly over something that wasn’t important. Instead, only the sound of silence filled his hospital room.

Aside from the brush with death, he could get used to this.

Once he had fallen asleep again, you were being shaken away.

Ojiro sent you a soft smile, kneeling down on the floor and rubbing comforting circles on your back.

You bolted upright, your tail knocking into Shinsou and startling him awake as it thumped against his back.

“Mashirao?!”

He held a finger up to his mouth to shush you quickly, motioning to where Aizawa, Kayama and Yamada were all asleep.

You followed him outside so that you didn’t disturb the three of them, Shinsou grumbling about how abruptly he had been woken up but trailed behind you begrudgingly.

Once he closed the door behind him, you immediately burst out with endless questions on how your classmates were doing. Ojiro was quick to reassure you that aside from Kirishima, everyone else seemed to be doing okay, only sustaining minor injuries.

Seeing as how Midoriya was lumped in with that group, you were shocked that he hadn’t managed to get hurt too badly.

Grateful, but shocked.

Ojiro asked if you would like to see them and you eagerly nodded, inviting Shinsou to come along with you but he awkwardly declined.

It felt too weird still, he wasn’t used to people talking to him so easily, since his quirk was the main reason why so many people avoided him in middle school.

Your ears drooped a little bit, having a feeling of where his head was at but gave in. You weren’t going to pressure him when he was so obviously uncomfortable. You could only hope that it faded with time because once he joined the hero course, he was going to have to deal with everyone in Class 1-A, regardless of whether or not he actually chose A over B.

Ashido, Midoriya and Kaminari had been especially keen on getting to know him better.

You extended your hand out to Ojiro without thinking about it, only to blush when you realized how easy that simple action was. You had gotten so used to it that you hadn’t realized how intimate the gesture actually was.

But before you could retract your hand, his fingers wove with yours and he tucked you under his arm, making sure to keep you close while you walked down the hall filled with heavy traffic on the way to Kirishima’s room.

Another hour and a half had passed. You had visited all four of your classmates, even meeting the Big Three for the first time since you were absent during the day that Togata laid pain on your class.

Asui and Ururaka smiled when you entered with Ojiro by your side and you hugged them both tight, relaying how glad you were that they were okay.

Kirishima was unconscious when you visited his room and you decided to let him rest, writing him a little note that wished him a swift recovery, leaving it on his pillow.

Midoriya was happy to see you, automatically asking if you were hurt. You had to rush to explain that you were visiting your dad and thought it would be good to check on them while you were at it. He gave you a brief rundown on what they were doing, what the news failed to cover, and your brow furrowed as he told you about the little girl that was the focus of their rescue operation.

That must have been so hard to go through.

“Are you okay?” Ojiro asked you quietly as you worked your way through the maze of the hospital, on your way back to the waiting room where Shinsou was undoubtedly waiting for you.

Ducking your head, you nodded but it was more out of instinct that actual acknowledgement. “Yeah, I just wish I could’ve been there. Maybe I could’ve done something.”

His eyes grew conflicted at the emotion in your voice and he inclined his head. He understood where you were coming from but you shouldn’t fault yourself for not being there. The four of them who were involved with work-studies were ready for this. They managed to save her.

“I know.” Ojiro finally whispered quietly, patting your head softly in reassurance. “But they’ll be okay.”

You heaved a sigh. “I hope so.”

As soon as you made it back to the waiting room, the sun was setting outside and your stomach rumbled with the need for food.

Your hand slipped out of Ojiro’s as you left him with Shinsou, racing to the cafeteria with hopes that they would have some kind of meat for you to chow down on before it was time to leave.

Kayama and Yamada were already waiting in the car for you three, knowing that you took a little extra time to visit your friends.

Shinsou rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and Ojiro’s tail drooped as he realized that they still weren’t able to hold a conversation.

“Erm, how’s Aizawa-sensei doing?” Ojiro asked tentatively.

Shinsou exhaled sharply. “He’s fine.”

The guarded tone he took with him made the tailed teen drop the subject, his heart twisting painfully as he realized that this wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped. Then again, he couldn’t necessarily say that he blamed him.

Shinsou’s indigo hues cleared a tad when Ojiro’s tail fell limp and he closed his eyes briefly before they snapped back open.

“If you have something to say then say it before she gets back.” He grumbled.

Ojiro’s eyes widened at the opportunity handed to him before recovering quickly. Shoulders straightening, his eyes squinted a fraction, determined to follow through with what he wanted to say.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow when the other gestured for him to sit but did so without arguing.

And without saying anything else, Ojiro began.

When you approached them, smoothie and empty wrapper in hand from where you had inhaled the food you had bought with Uncle Hizashi’s credit card, you tilted your head curiously at the sight of the two of them engaged in a deep conversation.

And as the day ended, the five of you headed back to UA, leaving you forever in the dark about what they were talking about.

Now, a week later, you were back at the very same hospital but for very different reasons. Nighteye had made a full recovery, thanks to some of your blood which had an advanced healing property no one was aware of before.

After you quietly admitted to keeping it a secret due to it being one of the reasons the Quirk Traffickers took you, Aizawa told you that you didn’t need to apologize and had All Might keep the doctors who transferred the blood off the record so that it couldn’t be traced back to you.

Even though Aizawa had been cleared and released within a day or so, thanks to Recovery Girl’s quirk, there was still something else he had to do.

He thought it would be a good idea to take you along when he visited the girl they saved. She got scared at everything that moved and was jittery all the time, which was taxing on her already exhausted little body.

He hoped that by seeing you, someone who had also been through something traumatic, you could help her by understanding what a lot of others failed to see.

Look, doctors were great, up until the point where they just couldn’t stand on the same ground as the little one.

No one knew what Eri had gone through. Sure, they had the papers and the evidence, enough to lock Chisaki away for life, but that didn’t mean they really knew.

They didn’t know what it was like to live a day in her life. How traumatizing it must have been for her to get taken apart and put back together again, all for a drug that would only spread chaos in society.

She didn’t deserve any of that. And while they all knew that, no one could tell her that without it sounding hollow. Because they didn’t know what it was like to live in the same fear that she had felt for every single day of her life.

Which is where you came in.

Yamada was covering his classes for the time being and you hoped no one questioned why you were also absent.

“Yes, it’s fine.” Aizawa reassured you emotionlessly as he held open the front door for you to let you go in first.

You stepped inside and blended in with those that milled about the hospital, following Aizawa until you came to a stop in front of a quarantined area. Inside a room, sat a little girl on the hospital bed.

Your jaw dropped. “Is that—”

“Yes.” Aizawa answered without looking as he signed off on the agreement given to him by the police officers stationed by the door.

After hearing from Holly when you had your playdate together and seeing how you interacted with any kids you came across, he was hoping that your energetic presence would help bring this traumatized little girl out of her shell.

“She’s been through a lot, hasn’t she?” You asked quietly as you watched Eri fumble with the bandages on her arms and legs, your eyes shining with tears at how clearly it was stressing her out.

Aizawa sighed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That would be an understatement.” He mumbled.

And that was with only having a fraction of an idea of what had happened to her.

Aiawa motioned for the nurse in the room trying to feed the reluctant girl to step out and she did so with zero hesitation.

“How is she today?” He asked her once she closed the door and you looked around both of them so that you could observe Eri.

The nurse’s gaze was sympathetic but it was clear she was at her wit’s end. “She’s stable and her quirk has not activated once, but she still refuses to eat anything. I’m not sure how much longer we should hold out, I think we should tube feed her unless her vitals are going to drop.”

“Let me try.” You piped up, an usually serious expression stark on your normally friendly features.

You glanced to your dad for approval but Aizawa merely nodded and after the nurse confirmed that it was alright for you to go inside so long as he was with you, she ushered the two of you in while she monitored things from outside.

Careful not to startle Eri, you knocked lightly before announcing yourself and coming in. She looked terrified at an unknown face but you didn’t blame her one bit, remembering what it was like when Ojiro first rescued you.

Your heart had been filled with fear but the hand that he stretched out was warm and inviting. And you never once regretted taking it.

“Hello.” You greeted, setting down a tray of food that had one characteristic in common all around. All the food was sealed to ensure that nothing was tampered with. “Are you hungry, Eri-chan?”

She blinked up at you, staring at the food skeptically but you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you didn’t know what it was like to be exactly in her shoes, you certainly could empathize.

However, her eyes lit up with curiosity at the sight of your fluffy ears and tail. You were different from the others that came to visit and while she wondered if perhaps that was a bad sign, she couldn’t help but be in awe.

Aizawa was leaning against the door frame, watching you both. He had been in the room quite a few times during routine check-ups from the doctor and such but he never really interacted with the little girl. He wasn’t the greatest with kids, they tended to cry whenever they saw him.

Another reason why he was an underground pro where the contact with children was limited to professional interactions only.

You tried to offer up her portion of the meal but she scurried back, her knees tucked up frightfully and you immediately let it go, drawing back to give her some space, murmuring soft reassurances.

Now Aizawa could see how you two really were similar. Abandoned by family and forced to do things you had no awareness of or couldn’t understand, it was sickening.

“I know it’s scary.” You said quietly as you set down the spoon when she shied away from the foreign object. “I was scared too.”

Eri looked up at you with her big eyes, not daring to hope that you could understand what she had been through. Her knees trembled as she drew them up tighter to her chest for comfort.

You smiled reassuringly and kept your distance as you explained your own story, your history with dangerous people just like Chisaki and how you were healing from your own experience.

“It’s hard to trust people when you’re scared that they’re just going to do the same things that those scary people put you through, but trusting that guy,” You pointed over your shoulder to where Aizawa was standing. “Was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

Eri blinked owlishly. “R-Really?”

Her small voice came out so fragile and shaky that you had to physically stop yourself from tackling her in a hug, knowing that it would only frighten her and not comfort her like you were intending.

“Yes,” You nodded vigorously, your tail fluffing up the barest bit to emphasize your point. “And I know you don’t know me, Eri-chan, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe too.”

Bit by bit, you could see something changing inside her and hesitantly, she reached for the metal utensil, halting in place before she touched it and looked up at you for permission.

“You’re safe here.” You whispered softly, motioning that it was okay. “You can eat as much as you want.”

This time, Eri tentatively took the spoon and balancing the bowl carefully in her hands, she gazed at it curiously.

You were ecstatic at her progress. You didn’t think she would drop her walls around you so fast. While she looked at it, you picked up your own bowl. Showing her how to blow on the foot first so that it didn’t burn her tongue, you took a small bite, demonstrating that the food caused no harm.

Eri was timid at first, but she gradually grew more confident until she was eating with a gusto that not only surprised you, but also Aizawa.

You motioned him to come over after asking Eri if it was alright so that your dad didn’t spend the majority of his visit standing awkwardly by the wall. The little girl was hesitant but she nodded that it was okay and after a beat, Aizawa came closer.

Once he was within arm’s reach, you scooted over to offer him a spot next to you on the bed.

“Does it taste okay?” You asked her as your dad sat down beside you.

Eri halted, her cheeks bulging with food and she nodded slowly. Cupping her small hands around the bowl, she took in the heat.

“It’s… warm.” She said softly and your heart broke in two.

Sniffling, you managed a wobbly smile for her. “I’m glad.”

You were going to rip Chisaki a new one if he ever got within a ten mile radius of her again.

Eri polished off her food in a little under an hour, her swollen stomach not quite used to taking in food so rich with nutrients and you fought to keep your tail from lashing back and forth angrily at all she had been through.

Aizawa collected the empty bowls, placing them back on the tray and giving it back to the nurse outside monitoring Eri’s progress while you played with the little one.

Lowering your head, you let the tips of your ears brush across her cheeks, evoking a small giggle from the little girl as she latched onto them with her fingers, being gentle not to pull on them.

Eri kicked her feet up and even though she didn’t smile, you could see it in her eyes; a light that wasn’t present before.

“They’re fuzzy...” She trailed off quietly before hastily retracting her hands, her gaze dropping down to her lap.

Your eyes softened understandingly at her reaction and you were careful not to move any closer. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eri still flinched as you drew back slightly to give her some breathing room and you bit your lip to contain the snarl threatening to spill onto your face from where her hands trembled fearfully.

“I’m not going to hit you.” You told her gently, careful to be as soothing as you could to put her at ease.

Aizawa was watching attentively from the doorway to give you both some space while you calmed her down, ready to erase her quirk if need be but so far so good.

“People hurt me too.” You whispered softly, rolling up your sleeves to show her the multitude of scars on your arms. “And I don’t know why or what I did wrong. But things get easier.”

You smiled encouragingly when she looked up at you, as though she was asking for permission to touch them and outstretching it slowly so you didn’t startle her, you let out a shaky breath as her fingertips barely skimmed over the marred skin.

Reminders of where you came from.

“Eri-chan.”

The little girl looked up at you as you gazed at her imploringly.

“I can’t promise that you’ll feel okay all the time, but when you’re ready, I’d like to show you what the world outside looks like.” You offered, standing up and curling your tail around your hip to beckon to her.

Eri’s ruby-red orbs glistened and she swallowed hard. “Will... Will you be there?”

You nodded reassuringly. “For as long as you want me there.”

“I-I—” Eri looked down, struggling with what she wanted to say and you gave her a moment to collect her thoughts.

The hospital gardens were nothing extraordinary but it would beat this room with white-washed walls everywhere you looked. A pop of color would be good for her soul and you hoped the fresh air would steady her heart.

You held out your hand, letting it be known that she didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to, the unspoken sentiment hanging in the air from where you regarded her empathetically. “What do you say, Eri-chan?”

She hesitated and for a beat, you weren’t sure what she was going to decide. But then she raised her head, her eyes shining with something that vaguely resembled determination and you smiled as her small hand slipped into yours.

“... Okay.”

Two months had passed by since then.

Eri had been moved out of the hospital and since Aizawa was the only one who could keep that quirk of hers under control until she learned how to do it herself, he was granted temporary guardianship of her.

The authorities had entrusted her to UA but on paper, she was his foster child for the time being.

Just like you had been, once upon a time.

Togata and Midoriya made the transition back into civilization easier for Eri, though the first week she wouldn’t leave their sides unless it was with you. You three were the ones she trusted the most.

Though, Aizawa came really close.

You suspected it had something to do with the small cream-colored teddy bear he bought for her while walking past the hospital gift shop on your way out that first day he brought you to see her.

They always sold things to help comfort patients during their stay and while he hesitated buying it, he ended up getting it anyway and giving it to her during her last week at the hospital so that she would have something to hold at night.

Eri had looked confused and it was almost funny how Aizawa tripped over his words trying to explain to her that he had bought this girl, who he didn’t know and wasn’t related to, a stuffed animal to bring her comfort because he was worried about her.

You, and even Shinsou, teased that he was such a softie, earning both of you a towel to the face after training at his house.

It was hours after school had let out and the sun was just starting to set.

Most students had already gone back to the dormitories. You had promised Ojiro to stop by his room before you went to bed when you got back and with that, you two parted ways.

Aizawa had taken you and Shinsou to his flat for training once you sprinted into the teachers’ lounge where both of them were waiting for you, along with Eri. Even though all the teachers had their own dorm, courtesy of the principal, he had already paid off the mortgage on the flat and he was not keen on selling it for a number of reasons.

Besides, Vlad King was allergic to cats so it wasn’t like he could just take Coffee with him.

So, while he lived in the teachers’ dorm, he went to his flat on the weekends and on their days off.

Aizawa dodged his student’s punch with a slight smirk. “Too slow.”

You were in the corner of the training arena inside of his house, playing tea party with Eri in the corner.

Aizawa had bought her a truckload of toys to entertain herself with so that she could bring things to keep herself busy when he was teaching at school. Luckily, she wasn’t fussy at all so it had taken barely any time to pick out what to buy.

Though you suggested it might have been a bit unnecessary to purchase nearly half the store.

It didn’t matter. Eri had been ecstatic once she had been told that these new toys were all hers to play with. Aizawa had to reassure her over and over again that yes, they really were hers and no, he didn’t particularly care if she broke something or decided that she didn’t want it.

She was honestly so careful in handling the neat little gadgets and play sets that he couldn’t even envision her breaking something.

You ignored the grunts and taunts coming from the middle of the room as the Shinsou and your dad sparred, flicking your tail to tickle the tip of Eri’s nose and she giggled, beaming widely at you when you exaggerated an eye roll when a thump reverberated through the ground as Shinsou was knocked onto his feet.

Eri had smiled for the first time at the school festival and you roped Midoriya into teaching you how to make candied apples so you’d always be prepared if she ever got up the courage to ask you for one directly.

For now, you were just content to have some on hand whenever she came to Heights Alliance when Aizawa needed to put out yet another fire that Bakugou set off with his explosion.

While you and Eri were playing, Shinsou was practicing his hand-to-hand combat with his mentor but every time he struck, Aizawa was always one step ahead of him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he wiped it off with a grimace before doubling back to strike again.

Aizawa maneuvered out of range easily, shoving him flat onto his back.

“Concentrate, Toshi.” He urged strictly and the teen slammed a fist on the ground in frustration before popping back up to his feet and coming at him again.

It had taken a while for Eri to get comfortable watching them spar, always worried that someone would get hurt but you had explained that Aizawa was helping her unofficial brother get stronger.

Shinsou hadn’t necessarily been taken to the idea of being someone she looked up too, it was too much pressure. He never had to be an older brother to anyone and you didn’t count since you were the same age as him.

Eventually, he warmed up to the idea, though he never told Eri that and he always denied it whenever Aizawa asked him straight out with a knowing smirk on his face.

Eri could be very persuasive when she wanted to, with her doe eyes and bright, blinding smiles that could disarm All Might himself.

Cute.

Shinsou huffed at his mentor’s impromptu rebuttal, redoubling his efforts to be able to land one hit on him before this round was over. Moving faster and faster until they both became a blur, he measured each strike and kick until his burning limbs were shrieking for him to stop.

“C’mon, Toshi, hit Dad where it hurts!!” You egged on from the sidelines and Eri threw her hands up excitedly.

“You can do it, Papa!!” She cheered.

She had gradually grown more and more comfortable calling him that, it took almost no time at all after hearing you call him that. But you all figured she deserved to have a loving father figure after all she had been through so no one teased her about it.

Even Monoma was surprisingly docile when it came to the little girl whenever you guys ran into him in the hallways.

Aizawa smiled slightly at the little girl’s encouragement but never took his eyes off of his student. Blocking his fist, he stepped closer, sweeping his leg at his feet, which Shinsou was able to dodge just in time.

“That won’t work on me twice!!” Shinsou shouted.

Hooking his foot around the elder’s ankle the second he landed firmly on his feet, Shinsou yanked him down to the floor and he landed hard.

His breath knocked clear out of his lungs, Aizawa coughed a couple of times before flashing his student a proud grin.

“Good job.”

The rare praise was curt but it transformed the expression on Shinsou’s face into one of unbridled happiness that was rare and far in between to see. He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading from ear to ear as his mentor acknowledged his victory.

“Alright, way to go, Toshi!!” You cheered alongside Eri.

“Toshi-nii, Toshi-nii, Toshi-nii!!” Eri exclaimed repeatedly in that soft voice of hers as she scrambled forward onto the training mat, raising her hands up as an indicator that she wanted to be picked up. “You won!!”

Shinsou bent down to pick her up, bouncing her on his hip a few times in the way that he knew made her laugh, poking her on the nose and grinning when she scrunched it up cutely.

“I did.” He boasted, puffing out his chest ever so slightly to make him appear manlier and you sputtered out laughing at how ridiculous he looked, to which he shot you a glare.

Eri’s eyes were shining. “You were so cool!!”

“Hey,” Aizawa frowned, feigning disappointment as he patted the back of his sweaty neck with a clean towel. “What about me?”

“Dad’s acting like a child again.” You commented as you handed him a glass of water you had previously gotten from the kitchen when you heard their fight going on.

On the way to the training area, you had run into Eri on the way there and invited her to come along so that she wouldn’t be alone. And also so that you could play with her.

Shinsou flashed you a grin. “It’s cause I kicked his butt.”

Aizawa flicked both of your foreheads to chastise you two for such an informal tone but it was light and even though you cried out dramatically and Shinsou rolled his eyes, you knew he didn’t actually care.

Much like Asui, who you found out what happened during the USJ incident had made her have a unique understanding with her teacher, you knew when to be serious and when to push the limits of your playfulness and cause no harm to your relationship in the process.

Eri reached out for you and you took her from Shinsou, sticking out your tongue in the process.

“Hah!! She likes me better!!” You gloated in his face.

He rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with a rag as he echoed your words from before. “You’re such a child.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am—”

“Okay, and that is the last of that.” Aizawa interrupted before you could carry on into a screaming match and then he would have to be the one to somehow get you two to stop fighting all the while calming Eri down, who would be crying cause her siblings were arguing.

Much like you, she was sensitive to loud noises and raised volumes and he couldn’t always use pats on the head with her since her interactions with Chisaki mostly consisted of—

Aizawa shook his head. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. The things that man did to this child was horrifying. It almost made him wish he was a villain just so that he could have the satisfaction of killing him.

But what mattered most was that Eri was out of there and that she was never going back.

Gazing fondly as Eri petted one of your ears that you offered to her, a soft smile slipped onto his face. The two of you were damn cute. And he was so proud that he got to call you his own kids.

Sensing movement out of the corner of his eye, he quickly sidestepped Shinsou’s surprise attack, the shocked look that crossed his student’s face at his reaction time was priceless.

“C’mon kid, you can do better than that.” He smirked, balancing on his feet and drawing up his fists for another bout. “One more round before dinner.”

Shinsou nodded determinedly. “Bring it on, sensei.”

Needless to say, that one was a draw. But only because Shinsou couldn’t get out of his mentor’s headlock.

Aizawa was too smart to fall for the brainwashing trick.

As they started to argue over who won, Aizawa clearly going to win the battle of words, you ushered Eri out of the room.

You jabbed a thumb over your shoulder as she grabbed her tea party set on the way out. “Want to help me start dinner until those two get over their ego?”

Eri nodded eagerly even though she didn’t really understand what an ego was. All she heard was dinnertime and that meant food.

“Yes!!” She cheered excitedly and you picked her up as she lifted her arms.

A growl of annoyance sounded from the other room.

“Y/N, I heard that.”

You could practically envision your dad’s glower and quickened your pace, holding in your giggles along with Eri.

It was rocky, but somehow in the midst of all the bad, you had come out with the perfect family.

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emiliaheartfeel · 3 years

Text

Supergirl

Chapter 7: Bro Code

AN: Atsumu did a shitty thing, that I do not condone. Hope your ready to feel smad!

It’s been two weeks since you started ignoring and avoiding Atsumu. You didn’t even reply to his message and he has been too stubborn to apologize. It’s starting to get on Osamu’s nerves because avoiding Atsumu included avoiding Osamu. He hasn’t seen or heard from you and Atsumu has been a bitch the whole time too. The coach had to bench cause he was being down right cruel to his own teammates. Osamu can’t talk to you and he hasn’t wanted to ask Atsumu, but this had gotten ridiculous and the team agrees. Kita calls a team meeting after practice one day. Atsumu is extremely bitter and becomes even more annoyed when all heads turn to him.

“What happened with you Atsumu?”

“I don’t know what your fucking talking about!”

“You have been rather irritable as of late”

“What he means is you have been a bitch.”

“In a sense, yes”

“I am always like this”

“Like hell you are man”

“Why don’t you all just leave me hell alone!”

Osamu can’t take it anymore and lunges at he’s brother in pure fury. This already was more intense then their usual petty fights. Fights about you always were. Osamu has Atsumu pinned under him hands in his collar holding him down. Both Aran and Kita are ready to get involved but Osamu sends them a nasty glare.

“What. The. Fuck. Did you do?”

“I already told you I don’t know what you are talking about”

“Bull fucking shit. Y/N is so mad at YOU she isn’t even talking to me”

“She chose you,”

“What”

“Three months ago she chose you,”

Osamu is lost now. What was Atsumu on about. Confusion is all he feels as he watches Atsumu looks broken. Years ago Atsumu was the first twin to tell the other he loved you Osamu revealed he did too a few months later.

“Last time she was in town she came to me to talk about you,”

“I don’t understand she barely even said goodbye when she left.”

“Because I had slept with her,”

Osamu’s mind goes blank for a moment before he pulls his fist back in punches Atsumu in the nose hard enough he feels a crunch. Aran grabs his arm as he pulled again to hit his twin again. He looks feral and Atsumu looks torn and ashamed. He’s not even fighting back not making eye contact with anyone.

“You! What!!”

Atsumu doesn’t answer finding his hands much more interesting. The team is stunned into silence this wasn’t the petty bullshit they were expecting. This was deep and personal.

“Answer! Me!”

“She loved you... Loves you”

“...”

“She came to me nervous a few nights before she was leaving to ask me a question”

You were in the Miya house in your pjs when you are pacing in the hall. Your right foot goes to rub up and down you left calf a sign of pure nerves for you. Atsumu raises an eyebrow at you with an annoying teasing smirk.

“What’s up, Supergirl,”

“Umm..I...”

“What? Finally confessing your undying love to the lesser twin,”

He knew. Knew you had a crush on Osamu. You had told him a year ago, but you hadn’t acted on believing it would make your relationship with both the twins weird which Atsumu fully agreed with.

“Haha, no it’s something else...”

“Come on, you can always tell the great and generous Atsumu what’s troubling you”

“I don’t think I want to”

“Oh! She doesn’t want my advise! I am not good enough to give you my advise! Oh the betrayal. That promise when you were 8 and sobbing on front porch and I told you I always got you. That means nothing to you appare...”

“You dramatic bitch.”

*overdramatic sigh*

“Oh my god! Fine...I....to...Osamu...”

“What was that?”

“I want to give Osamu my virginity!”

“Oh”

Something in him really broke. Knowing you loved Osamu was and not acting on it was one thing, but this would definitely lead to you and his brother dating. He couldn’t handle if you two actively together. He couldn’t watch you be with another man.

“What’s that look for”

“I just think that’s a bad idea”

“Why?”

“Tell me have you really thought this through”

“Yes I want my first time to be with someone a love and trust,”

“Then let me do it!”

“What?”

He knew he was running purely on emotions and needs a cover and fast. He’s panicking this isn’t how he imagined confessing to you. He had even thought about ever confessing to you.

“We love each other and you trust me”

“You know that’s different!”

“Not really it’s going be completely yours decision everything. Think about how weird it’ll if he says no or worse he says yes and doesn’t have feelings for you. Having sex with someone you love, but doesn’t love you is a new kind of torture that I don’t want you to go through!”

“How do you know he doesn’t love me!”

“I just do!”

“How!”

“He told me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Atsumu I just love Y/N she’s like the perfect little sister!”

He know it was fucked up. He knew he was breaking her heart and lying to do it.

“Obviously I am not saying you need to have sex with me, but I am your safest bet,”

“I need to go home,”

“Let me walk you then”

“I don’t think that’s necessary”

“No it’s not but I need you to understand I am not trying to actively sleep with you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

BULLSHIT! He was a liar and a horrible friend.

“Atsumu I just found out the guy I have been in love of with for years doesn’t love me and his brother, who looks exactly like him, offers sex. I am going to be fucking hurt! I need time to think and get over Osamu. And rethink shit about my virginity,”

He knew this wasn’t gonna be good for you. You already looked destroyed and all he wanted to do was hold you, but he knew that might just confuse you. Though the really dark voice in him wanted you confused, cause maybe then you would finally pick him. He couldn’t go that far. Everything had to be your choice.

‘But is it really her choice. You lied so she wanted go to Osamu, to make you seem more attractive more desirable. You are soliciting sex from the girl you claim to live because you are jealous and maybe this is the closest you’ll ever get to her loving you. You thought if you can’t have love, lust is just as good.’ He thought to himself. Guilt riddled him before you were even out the door.

“Y/N forget I said anything. You should love and trust the man you give your first to.”

You walk out and don’t back in until a few days later. Osamu isn’t home again. You knew that and Atsumu knew you knew it. He’s hesitant to even approach you, but it is clear he is who you came to see.

“I need to know this won’t change anything between us,”

“What won’t?”

“That if I give you my virginity. Your still my friend Atsumu. I can’t live my life with out you. You were right I didn’t think it through. Even if Osamu did love me it doesn’t mean we wouldn’t eventually fall out of love and then he would just be out of my life right. I need you by my side even if he isn’t.”

It almost sounded like a love confession to Atsumu, but he knows better. You are so desperate to keep Osamu in your life you have torn yourself a part to hide that you loved him. You just assumed Atsumu was always going to be there, you just need him to say it. It not like Osamu where you won’t even risk it. Atsumu, he knew you could live without him you just don’t want to.

“No matter we are gonna be weird with each other we both have to have faith in each other, but Y/N I was talking out my ass. It annoyed me that you were gonna have sex with Osamu over me. Yeah it doesn’t make sense but you know how competitive we are. You don’t got to do this. We pretend this never happen and have a sundae night.”

“I am sure Atsumu.”

That’s what he told his teammates and that’s how it went down. Osamu is livid. Aran is holding him tightly as Kita had put tape over his mouth so Atsumu could tell his story without interruptions. Everyone taking it all in.

“Wait then why is she mad now?”

Atsumu pulls out his phone and shows them the texts he sent.

“You are an idiot”

As soon as Osamu signals he is calm enough Aran slowly and with hesitation let’s him go. As he turns to his twin face hardened and swallows tightly.

“She can never know you lied”

“...what”

“It would ruin her, Atsumu. You are her confidant and you took advantage of her. She can’t know. We pretend it never happened, we follow our bro code and neither of us go for her ever. We be the best big brothers we can. Nothing changes between us.”

“...I”

“Shut up! You did a terrible thing and should be treating her like a goddess until one of you dies. You barely deserve to be in the same room as her. You are lucky I don’t break your hands.”

“I know”

Masterlist

AN: I don’t think I capture the amount of heartbreak Atsumu actually was suppose to be in but boy is suppose to seem fucking broken. Doesn’t excuse his action but he insecure scared baby that just wants love.

AN: Sorry this chapter took a little longer. If I don’t have you in my tag list just message me! I am so so nervous about how you all are going to react to this chapter and the next ones. Also there are more then 10 chapters this is just volume 1 🙃.

Please Comment!

@kaleidoscopekai @je-suis-argent-miel @liferuinedby5idiotsand1genius @poppi144 @idontevenknow129 @ssuna @im-the-music-whore @kac-chowsballs

#atsumu smau #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu smau #miya atsumu #miya osamu #osamu smau #osamu x reader #aran ojiro #suna smau #suna rinatro #haikyuu suna #suna x reader

43 notes · View notes

krabstick32 · 4 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing so much!!! May I please request a self indulgent giyuu fic where the reader has some self esteem issues, like having long hair to cover most of her face and is plus size but has a good heart! Thank you that would make my life!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wardrobe Malfunction

Requested by: anon

Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

Synopsis: Dress up was supposed to be fun. Your clothes say otherwise.

Tags/warnings: This work does have slight implications of self-esteem issues and body dysmorphia/body dysmorphic disorder. I’d like to say that this is not meant to offend anyone, and also to apologize for any faulty interpretations.

A/N: To the anon who requested this: i’m so glad you like my writing 🥺💖 bUT I AM SO SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG WITH YOUR REQUEST :(((((( I feel terrible for taking an actual month to finish this, and i’m not even 100% satisfied with it :(( As an explanation though, I was working on something entirely different for you. It was a modern high school au, 5+1 sort of fic, which was almost finished but for some reason felt wrong...so I thought up of a new idea aka this.

Anyway, i hope the wait was worth it anon, and i hope ya’ll enjoy it too!!

Blood Demon Arts were a complicated skill set that special demons possess. Some use it for fighting, some for catching humans, yet some were just downright weird.

A fight with a low-level demon teaches you that.

Barely five minutes into the fight, and you were already sheathing your Nichirin Blade back in its scabbard. You were fine, if not a little uncomfortable from the weird slime-like substance that came from the demon coating your uniform. The fight wasn’t difficult, but the demon was a little perverted. It didn’t even try to fight all that seriously, and instead kept trying to sneak glances under your skirt.

There were only minor scrapes around your skin—though now, you wish you could say the same for your clothes, because it starts melting.

Maybe that demon wasn’t as low-level as you thought because the corps uniform was made to withstand damage from low-level demons, but this odd liquid was enough to let parts of it disintegrate and expose your skin. Fortunately, it didn’t sting, burn or give your skin rashes—only melt off the fabric that covered your decency.

That was your last spare uniform too, because you’ve been sent to a lot of dangerous missions lately. This was the only one you had at home, but thankfully, you’ve placed a quick request for a few new ones to be sent to you.

You were lucky to have been able to beat it, so once you quickly lopped of the stupid demon’s head, you panicked and whistled for your bird to bring in kakushi. You didn’t know if this was Oyakata-sama’s foresight’s work, but you were grateful that three female kakushi pushed through the treeline, and quickly rushed to you once they noticed your predicament. One of them took care of the demon’s remains while the other two moved to you and wrapped you securely in a blanket, protecting your dignity and easing your panic.

Even if you were pretty much healthy and good to go, the girls—Chiyo, Tsune, and Hatsuko were great company as they escorted you back—ushered you to one of the many rooms in the butterfly estate. You argued that you weren’t injured and that you didn’t want to burden the butterfly nurses and the kakushi, but the girls told you that the estate wasn’t too busy, and that there was plenty of room for you.

The room was standard with a cot, a bedside table, and a few chairs for visitors, where a spare set of clothes for you was folded over. You were fine, but you were still grateful for the short time you could use for rest and for the girl’s thoughtfulness. Spending the time worrying about what you wear on your next mission would be a waste, so you lie down and try to close your eyes instead, to calm down your nerves.

The sound of shuffling doors brings you out of your light nap just in time to see a head of jet-black hair pop in.

A smile makes its way across your face as you watch your boyfriend slide the door close as quietly as possible. Giyuu looked good—clothes the same, hair unruly with the bare thread of his hair tie attempting to keep it tame—but what was new was the small package under his arm.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks when he sees you sitting up, and takes a seat on the nearest chair. Your smile sweetens when he looks back up, feeling your heart beat a little faster as his eyes soften out of its usual steely, and impassive gaze.

Dragging your mind out of its haze, you wave off his concern and reply, “Oh, this is just a formality—I’m fine.” Well, physically you were, but you’re reminded that all is not well when he glances around the room only to find the folded tatters of what remains of your previous clothing sitting innocently on the bedside table. “Wish I could say the same about my uniform though.”

“This should solve that.” Giyuu hands you the mysterious package and it gives you a moment to notice how nicely it was wrapped.

Lightly, you run your fingers over the black ink your name was written in, on a small tag attached to the white twine wrapping around brown packing paper. The twine intersects in a small tied ribbon right at the middle, and is sealed with a piece of wax stamped with the corps’ insignia. “Ah, is that why you’re here?”

“No, I was on my way to see you when I heard you were here. That—” He gestures with his chin “—I just brought in from the kakushi.”

You choose to ignore the way your cheeks flush when he mentions his intentions and instead show surprise. With how busy the kakushi were, you were pleasantly surprised that it took them only four days to make your uniform. “Oh, thanks, that was fast of them.”

“It’s your uniform right? I can wait outside so you can try it on.”

Already flustered from his previous responses, you try to answer, “Ah, yeah, yes. Thanks, I’ll just—um, yeah.” Only to sound like a bumbling idiot. Eloquent as always.

Embarrassed by your mess of a mouth, you look down at your hands and feel your hair come to cover your heated face. Looking at him in the eye right now would reduce you to a pile of flaming ashes, so you’re grateful your long hair has saved you yet again from his piercing stare.

Before Giyuu leaves though, you hear a light chuckle until he’s gone and you’re left with the sound of the door sliding back shut and the thought of how unfair it is that he can easily get you to smile and then flustered at the next second.

The moment you let the uniform unfold, something tells you that there was something…wrong. For one, there were too many holes in it—one on each shoulder, and an entire chunk around the stomach. The fabric felt silkier than what you previously had—even the skirt was much, much shorter than what you remember requesting for.

But a quick double check on the wrapping paper confirms that this was your uniform, so you try it on. It’s been a while since you’ve ordered a new one, maybe you just…weren’t used to it? Or maybe there were new rules in place?

If it wasn’t already bad when you first looked at it, it was even worse when you were wearing it.

How is this even supposed to protect me?

The only thing covered was your chest (not even counting the skin in the middle!), your forearms, and half your thighs. The uniform was too revealing and boy, did you want to crawl in a hole right now. You felt exposed—too exposed. You've rarely felt good in your own body, and now was no exception.

Just the thought of somebody else seeing you like this? What would they think?

A pit forms in your stomach, and something black and slimy wraps around your shoulders and around your neck. You feel constricted, like you couldn’t move or breathe, and your nails were digging in too hard into the clammy skin of your palms.

You weren’t like Mitsuri or Shinobu. You didn’t have a great figure like the love pillar, or a petite frame like the insect pillar. Instead, you found yourself staring into a mirror more often than you’d like, only to feel disappointed in your oversized body. In fact, you’re extremely lucky to have gone this far without a demon catching up to you given how slow you feel your body makes you.

You shouldn’t be crying over this—it was childish to throw a fit over something like this, but you feel horrible.

A knock from the door interrupts your thoughts and Giyuu’s voice carries over through the wooden door.

“(F/N), are you okay? Should I get Shinobu?”

No, he can’t see me like this.

Quickly, you scramble back to the bed where you placed your hospital clothes, and yank the stupid uniform you requested off your body and shove it under the bed. “Ah, no! I-I’m fine, I’m just changing again!”

You slip the button through the last opening and walk towards the door to let Giyuu back in.

Maybe I should send him back?

You could say that you were feeling sleepy or that you weren’t feeling too good, but he came all this way and… or maybe he was here to see someone else? You were his girlfriend, but that didn’t mean he was automatically here for your company.

You were too far gone in your own fears that you completely forgot that you were the reason why he was even here in the first place.

Hopefully, he leaves without question. Your hair will hide your face so he shouldn’t notice how it was burning or how there were small drops of tears in your eyes. But this was Giyuu, the Water Pillar, one of the strongest demon slayers in the entire corps, and your boyfriend. Nothing gets past him, especially if it concerns you.

He doesn’t even get through the threshold before he notices. “He—(F/N), what’s wrong?”

“...It’s nothing,” You say, angling your face away from you. I just feel tired all of a sudden. How about we see each other tomorrow? If you’re free of course. I know how busy you can get.” And you rarely saw each other too. It was a shame your issues just had to swoop right in.

“It’s fine with me if that’s what you really want, but are you sure it’s nothing?”

You feel warm fingers caress your chin before his hand moves back up to cup your cheek, and that’s when your walls chip and break. You lean into his touch and peek through your bangs to see a soft look in his eyes—a look you only ever saw on the rare chances you catch him looking at you or when he had a plate of freshly-cooked salmon daikon.

“You can tell me anything if you want to, I’ll listen.”

Of course you knew you could tell him anything, but actually telling him about something so stupid had you fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “I know this will sound stupid, but my uniform is wrong.”

“The uniform?”

Further hunching in on yourself, your body starts sweating, and you feel like your tears were about to spill over. “It looks terrible. There was no fabric around my entire stomach, it only covered half my things and—! Ugh, I know, I know it’s really childish of me to be complaining so much about it but I didn’t feel comfortable in it at all. I hate it—” and i hate my body “—It doesn’t look right on me, I’m too big for it.”

You breathe out a small sigh and look down at the floor. Melting through the floorboards sounded nice. “Maybe it’s just my fault—if I was thinner or prettier it would probably fit me better. I don’t know…I thought it would be similar to what I had before.”

“...Look at me,” Giyuu says after a while, and takes your hands when you don’t seem to reply any time soon. “Do you trust me?”

Immediately, you look up to him and answer with no hesitation. “With my life.”

“Then I hope you’ll believe me when I say that it's not your fault.” His lips curl slightly upward when your gaze moves from the floor to him. He’s glad that he caught your attention, because he wants you to see how much he means the words he’s about to say.

“I don’t care if you’re thinner, or prettier or about anything else. As long as you’re happy, healthy, and alive, it’s more than enough.” Giyuu places his forehead against yours, and for a moment, you forget why you’re worrying so much.

“To me, You’re the kindest, prettiest, most perfect person in my eyes, and I hope you see yourself the way I do. You have a heart of gold, and you’re plenty perfect just the way you are. You don’t need to change for anything or anyone.”

Giyuu wasn’t really good with words, and he knew that. In fact, at the moment you were seeking comfort, he was in over his head. He thought he was being redundant and talking himself in circles, so he did panic a little when the tears started slipping from your eyes. Panic changed into relief though when you wrap your arms around his torso.

You were well-aware that he wasn’t good with words, so you were caught off-guard by the reassurances he was giving you. You never knew how much you needed to hear those from him, to be reminded that he liked you just as you are.

As easily frazzled you were with a somewhat constant need for reassurance, you’ve gotten used to the fact that receiving verbal assurance from him would be rare if not nonexistent. So you’ve gotten used to his quiet support. He was always there when you needed him, and tried to comfort you the best way he knew how. You appreciated it, and even came around to care for his silent quirks, but hearing him say how much you meant to him, was incredibly comforting, and

“If you hate your uniform, I've heard that Shinobu had problems with hers too at first so I'm sure we can ask Shinobu what she did with hers. I can even place a request for a new one for you.”

Giyuu was never very good with words, but he always made it up with his actions.

“That would be nice.”

BONUS:

You really appreciated that Giyuu was with you the entire time your horrible uniform was alive on this earth. As promised, he helped you handle the uniform issue, and came with you to Shinobu’s office (who was more than willing to hand you the oil and matches).

“Oh? (F/N)-chan? Tomioka-san?” She greets when she ushers you two in her office. “I haven’t seen you two in a while! I’m surprised Tomioka-san is here with you though. I thought he avoided social interaction?.”

Giyuu grumbles at her teasing, but you know these two were friends, even if both of them didn’t want to admit it. “I’m still here.”

You squeeze your boyfriend’s hand, before smiling sheepishly at Shinobu. “It’s been a busy few weeks. We should catch up sometime, but that’s not really why we’re here.”

The Insect Pillar tilts her head in curiosity, and asks, “Oh? Then how can I be of service?”

“Well, you see, all of my uniforms were ruined from my past missions, so I requested for a new one, but um…” Giyuu handed you the clothes you’ve placed back in the wrapping paper which you bring out and let unfold to show Shinobu how it was clearly not your style.

Air seems to freeze over as the seconds tick by with your ‘uniform’ hanging from your hands.

Giyuu was standing behind you, so you couldn’t exactly see his reactions, but you could see how Shinobu’s ever-present smile turned sinister, and looked like she was ready to stab someone with her sword.

“I think they got my size wrong. Giyuu told me that you mentioned having the same problem before, so I was hoping you could tell me how you got yours fixed.”

Without any hesitation whatsoever, Shinobu’s smile stays eerily plastered on her face, “Oh, it’s simple! You can just burn yours. Don’t worry, I burned mine too and I lent the oil and matches to Kanao and Aoi, so you don’t have to feel bad—I’m more than willing to lend you the oil and matches I used. How about I join you two to go to the kakushi? I have a vague idea of who the tailor might be.”

As per Giyuu’s words, It wasn’t your fault. One of the kakushi in charge of making the uniforms was too blame and decided to take some… creative liberties with yours.

When Giyuu saw the scraps of cloth Maeda-san—or scum-glasses as everyone promptly nicknamed him— back in Shinobu’s office, you thought his face didn’t change or move an inch. Shinobu wanted to laugh, because unlike typical Giyuu fashion, everyone who saw him the entire day could see the pulsing vein on his temple that seemed like it would pop any minute. It was clear that he was pissed off, as he handed you the oil to douse the clothes in and gave a readily lit match, but she found it a little sweet that he was a bit more transparent when it came to you.

After the fabric was reduced to ashes in front of Maeda-san, a new agreement was made about your uniform, and as a temporary solution, Giyuu lent you a few of his spare uniforms for you to wear on duty. You had plenty of kimonos and hakamas to wear, but you primarily wore those for training and didn't particularly provide the same protection the corp’s issued uniform did.

It was a little tight around your chest and your hips, and a bit too long for your arms and legs, but you could still move around comfortably without busting a button, so you took it gratefully, and wore it for the week your uniform was being made.

He was with you when your new uniform arrived. The two of you were eating snacks on the Water Estate’s engawa when a kakushi—in a nice surprise it was Tsune—dropped by with a new package, similar to the one Giyuu handed you before. You thanked them and hurriedly went in one of the empty rooms to change, leaving Giyuu to drink his tea alone as he waits for your return

“Giyuu!” You call as you join him back on the engawa. He turns only to be blinded when he sees you smiling to high heaven. “Look, it’s perfect! They got the measurements right this time.”

The uniform you wore right now was just like your old one, and he could see that it clearly made you happy. You even twirl in place, gleefully modeling your new skirt and uniform blouse to him.

“I’m grateful you lent me your uniform, but I;m more used to wearing skirts.” Laughing lightly, you look down at your clothes, carefully running your fingers across the fabric. “I’m so glad this one’s perfect!”

Without an ounce of shame or hesitation, Giyuu tilts his head towards you and says, “You’re the one who’s perfect.”

Oh my god, your heart is going to explode.

Looking down at your tabi socks, you let your hair fall over your face, if only to hide the red flush on your skin. “Giyuu, are you sweet talking me right now?”

“No, I’m being honest.” From the sound of his voice, he was being one hundred percent, and a quick look on his face confirms it, even if there was a little mischievous glint in his eyes. He knew you were getting flustered and in extension, knew what he was doing to you.

You sit down at your previous spot right beside him before taking your teacup from where you placed it on the tray to hide the small smile on your lips. “Okay, okay, you can stop now, you’ve made your point.”

“But I’m serious, you look perfect.” Giyuu leans over, wrapping an arm around your waist and places a soft kiss on your cheek. He tugs you closer to lean against him and watches how your skin changes into a deeper red. It makes him think that he should voice his thoughts about you more often.

“Ah, Giyuu! Stop it!” You giggle, but ultimately return the favor, peppering his face in kisses and smiling at him in a way that makes his heart beat faster.

He may have been a little sad that you won’t be wearing his clothes anytime soon now, but seeing you comfortable and smiling…

Well, that was more than enough for him.

A/N: A gentle reminder to those who reached the end: please know that you are a beautiful and wonderful person. You are loved, you are valued, and have people who care for you, okay?

A huge thank you for reading! online classes are being a little pain, so even if I really missed writing (and reading) fanfics, I might be a little rusty :(( hopefully ya’ll enjoyed it 🥺

Again, to the anon who requested this, i am so so sorry that it took me this long. i hope you still liked it tho 🥺🥺 (i also might post that modern hs au i was talking about earlier, so keep your eyes peeled for that <3)

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piraticalarchive · 3 years

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okay so for everyone who hates big corporations and management who takes advantage of their employees.. this one’s for you. it’s long but .... i find it completely hilarious.

so a brief recap: amy got fired back in march from a huge international retailer, yes? when things first started like they were going south, i worked on really re establishing a relationship with my brother who is like one level below C-suite (cfo, ceo, etc etc) of that same company because i had an idea in mind. March rolls around, amy gets fired .. and I’m like .. okay. time to put this in motion. but stress and depression obviously took the motivation away from me, but i continued to keep that line of communication up with my brother. we started talking weekly, sometimes twice a week via an actual call. well, i’m finally feeling better .. so this week i finally put my plan in motion. here’s how it went

stage 1: i sent a text to my brother asking if i applied to the store in my area if i could use him as a reference. he said, of course but every store is hiring so i’d look at any store besides that one. (which is already fucking hilarious but i digress) ... so i call the store and one of the managers who sat in on amy’s firing answers when i ask to speak to someone involved in hiring (oh lucky day). I start off with “hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been looking for a job thats a bit of a change of scenery and my brother is the *insert position name* and works in *insert headquarters location* and he recommended i give the company a try despite that I had a less than stellar experience last time”. And this manager FALLS OVER telling me they are hiring for so many positions blah blah blah and then at the end when i’m like “thanks for the information! I’m definitely going to apply!” she’s like “of course! I’ll give our hiring manager your information so she can pull it immediately. Whats your name?” and i give my name and suddenly its just dead fucking silent... because they know who I am and they know that I’m in a relationship with amy and that i know what they did. But she recovers and is like ‘can’t wait to see your application!’ .. so.. okay. stage 1 was a success. but then, enter...

unexpected event: the store manager himself calls me. Starts off with some small talk, finally gets around to saying ‘so I hear you’d like to come back and work for us? I was looking at your previous application and I didn’t see any mention of the relation you talked about when you called”. And I’m like “oh, yeah... I don’t like using stuff like that because I’d prefer to get in on my own merit and skills and not by a family member’s position. Plus its like that show undercover boss, you know? I get to see what the place is like before they know. BUT given with what happened to amy, I was unsure if I’d even be considered without a reference like that” and he laughs nervously and is like “i totally get it. So did anyone know that you had a brother in that position?” and I’m like “oh i mentioned it once in passing to [amy’s manger] but I just said my brother was in corporate and there are a lot of levels so i think he just left it at that” and the store manager is like ‘haha yeah different levels but thats like ... its own level...” and we talk a little bit and he’s like “what made you want to come back?” and I’m like “like i mentioned before, the amy thing really threw me off. I was angry and the good thing about siblings is you don’t have to sugarcoat stuff. So I went to my brother and was like this is how you treat people?? are you kidding?? what about job security?? and i sent him the picture amy had snapped of her discharge papers where it listed the reason and he told me that, and everything else I yelled at him about, wasn’t the company’s way and that the store had seriously violated something. So for one, I now know that isn’t actually something that should have happened and two, i inadvertently brought this store to corporate’s attention and there are a lot of good people who work here, and they don’t deserve the consequences of that, so I want to help make it right” and he’s fucking sweating yall, I can hear it over the phone. and he’s like “fill out your application and put whatever you want down and we’ll call you and talk about positions and we can find a way to give you what you want” and I’m like “oh, don’t tell me that nick because your chair is looking awfully good right now” and he did a nervous laugh. SO, unexpected event made my plan even better. Then we get to:

Stage 2: I apply. I check literally every management position, including the one they fired amy from and also some hourly positions and put down ridiculous hours. I pass the manager test with flying colors and when it asks why i said i want to be a team trainer i wrote down ‘thanks to knowing the home office, i know how things should work and I want to help this store raise its position in the district and I know what policies aren’t being followed to help make that raise smoother.” I submitted the application, called the first manager I had spoken to and told her I had done so and she was like “I’m sure we’ll give you a call tomorrow!” ‘Tomorrow’ came and by 7 that night, they hadn’t contacted me. So I went to the ‘we’re hiring’ image they had posted on their facebook page like an hour previously and tagged my brother and was like ‘dude this is one of the positions at my store i was telling you about. think i could pull it off?” AND BAM ! they sent me a request for a phone interview at 8am the next morning. I scheduled my interview for later that afternoon at 2:45 and we enter Stage 3.

Stage 3: Amy and I go to the store to pick up a few things. It’s suddenly fucking spotless. There are no gaps in the shelves, the floor has been cleaned since the last time we were there (monday night and i called them tuesday and it is now white and shiny as hell) and they have the lights turned up all the way so you can actually see. EVERY FUCKING AISLE is perfect. Cat food? perfect. Funko pops? stacked and lined up perfectly. Video games? Filled. Clearance aisle? Perfect order. Like its super obvious they did a mad dash and tried to get the store in shape. So amy and I walk down every single aisle and point things out and kind of put our heads together and talk and I take out my phone and act like i’m texting etc .. basically we’re just fucking with people’s heads because the managers are nearby and they can see what we’re doing.

Stage 4: So later we’re home and 2:45 comes and goes with NO word. No phone call, no email, no hey can we reschedule. they FORGOT about the interview. I’m dying because they’re making it even better and even easier to fuck with them. So I text my brother (who KNOWS my mental health has been in the trash) and I’m like “I filled out an application just to see and they set up an interview and blew me off. You were right .. not a great help when it comes to the blues” and he was like “yep...i’d look at literally any other store” and talked to me a bit more about it. He was irritated that they’d do that and kept saying they were on thin ice. Finally at 5 they text me and they’re like “hey, this is the [insert store] and we’re sorry we missed your interview. I wanna apologize. Can we reschedule?” And I wait like an hour and a half (i was napping, i’ll admit it) but I respond with “I apologize for the late response, I had a prior commitment I had to take care of. Unfortunately, I reached out to someone [they know who it is. they know] in the off chance I had misunderstood the process since I hadn’t heard from you guys and I was encouraged to pursue opportunities at other branches in the area. Thank you for the original consideration and I hope you have a great day!” and they waited until 11am the next day to reply back which I’m assuming is because they were waiting for the higher up management to return to the store.

Come to find out the managers are still basically pissing themselves and freaking out because not only did they a) fire someone against company policy and now know the people at the top know and b) drop the ball and forget to interview a family member of said people at the top ... I got to add salt in the wound one more time by mentioning that my brother dropped in a lot (he doesn’t) and that I’d love to show off the store since it’s such a huge part of the community and it was looking better than I’d ever seen it look. And that it would be nice because he’d get the real experience since it wasn’t a formal, announced visit .... but, of course, that he’s salary .. so the policy is that he’s always ‘at work’ and obligated to take note of things.

so basically, i feel justified. Six and a half months of careful planning and maneuvering was totally justified. 10/10, I’d do it again. Let this be a lesson that patience in planning vengeance is completely worth having and I hope I helped make the store better for employees who aren’t management by putting the fear of god into them with the idea that my brother or anyone else from his office can just drop the fuck in whenever they want with a totally casual visit that could still fuck the management over completely. This is a good week, mates .. a very good week. Am I petty? yes. Do i hate their guts and feel like it was an entertainment that was totally worth it given what they did to the love of my life? also yes.

#also if they checked - i'm facebook friends with their international corporate lawyer. my brother obviously and the cfo who i didn't realize #at first was him bc he goes by a different name via facebook. like last name is the same but i think he uses his middle name as his first #i love it. i love it so much.#i planning on doing more stuff but i gotta take a breather and plan it carefully but #god i am L IVING #fuck that place #we laugh because i'm known here for messing with companies that fuck with people #and i did my best one like 3 years ago but amy was just like 'this is 10 miles beyond that'#long post //#i'm sorry for this but i just want to let everyone know the major reason for my incredible mood this week

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rosethornewrites · 3 years

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Fic: frost on the frozen ground

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo

Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Lan Qiren, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Wen Qing, Fourth Uncle, Jin Zixun

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Bad Uncle Lán Qǐrén, Anxiety, Confrontations, Family, References to Depression, Bunnies, Found Family, Podfic Welcome

Summary: Wei Ying and A-Zhan are still dealing with the fallout weeks after the public arrest of Meng Yao and Jin Guangshan cleared Wei Ying's name, when an uninvited visitor shows up. Second in the moonlight falls corporate spy AU series, inspired by @angstymdzsthoughts.

Notes: See end.

AO3 link

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Wei Ying was exhausted. It wasn’t even a physical sort of exhaustion, but one brought on by the absolute circus the last few weeks had been, following the very public arrest of Lan Xichen’s fiancé for the exact corporate espionage Gusu Lan Tech had accused him of and ruined his life over five years ago.

Trust Nie Huaisang to somehow convince the FBI to arrest Meng Yao during a major family dinner for the grooms that was well-attended by the media as a sort of social gala, and to also ensure they arrested Jin Guangshan at the same time. He was only the head of Jin Enterprises, so it’s not like it didn’t send that company’s stocks tanking immediately while also humiliating Gusu Lan Tech.

Nie Huaisang did petty well.

Wei Ying just wished the aftermath hadn’t meant reporters hounding him and A-Zhan almost constantly, though that wasn’t Huaisang’s fault. At least, that he knew of—his old friend hadn’t reached out, and Wei Ying didn’t know whether to expect him to.

They’d had to start screening their calls and if they did go out, it was wearing disguises and usually separately.

It had started when Jin Guangshan’s shitty nephew had attempted to ambush interview them while they were shopping for groceries with A-Yuan.

Everyone knew he was a hack. Jin Zixun had majored in history at a university his uncle was on the board of (the only reason he was even admitted) and barely got his degree. He’d been resoundingly rejected by every reputable employer despite his uncle’s best efforts, and could only get a job at some hack blog site pretending to be news and to have journalistic integrity. He was largely known for ludicrous conspiracy theories, vehement misogyny, and, weirdly, white nationalist talking points, but his articles and livestreams apparently got enough advertising revenue to merit his continued employment.

He had the nerve to imply Wei Ying had somehow framed Meng Yao and Jin Guangshan.

On the bright side, the camera had been livestreaming, and A-Zhan had verbally eviscerated him and implied that he probably had a hand in the corporate espionage, that maybe the investigation should look into him.

“I recall your name and the insulting things you said and wrote about Wei Ying. You claimed, without evidence, there was a connection with Compu-Jiang, and then they took a financial hit. Trying to take out your uncle’s competition?”

Jin Zixun’s face had turned interesting colors and he cut the camera, but the damage was done. They learned the next day he was canned from the pseudo-journalist farce and the FBI had declared him a “person of interest” and seized his electronics.

The interest in that led to more media coverage looking at the Weis, rekindling interest in the false accusation and Wei Ying’s blacklisting from the industry. Uncle Four had banned reporters from the premises, and since he owned the building that meant they at least weren’t buzzing the apartment from the lobby or, worse, somehow getting in and knocking on their door, for the most part at least. Now they were simply waiting across the street and accosting them if they spotted them, something that most often happened if they were together, and less if they were separate.

Wei Ying didn’t want to revisit the year or so following the blacklisting. Even with A-Zhan beside him, it had been like a montage of humiliation and pain. He hated that these reporters wanted to put all that on display again.

The Wens had been amazing, often bringing them groceries and cooked meals, but they couldn’t stay cooped up—they had a son, and he was fond of parks and libraries. Sometimes his aunts or uncles or Granny would take him out for them if there was a congregation of reporters, and that had at least ensured the parasites hadn’t caught on to A-Yuan’s existence connected to them yet.

As a bright spot, A-Li had contacted him. With her father-in-law in prison for the corporate espionage Wei Ying had been framed for, her husband had consented to let him meet his nephew. She was excited to meet A-Yuan. They were just waiting for some of the furor to die down.

Even though it was Saturday, Wei Ying was finishing a coding project while A-Zhan was taking A-Yuan to the library and then a different park than usual. He wished he could go with them, but it was better not to tempt fate.

He was nearly finished sorting out a coding error when the bell for the apartment building buzzer rang. Sighing in irritation, he stalked to the door and pressed the button to respond, careful not to press the one that unlocked the door.

“No comment. Please leave the premises.”

“I am not the press,” a gravelly male voice responded.

Wei Ying blinked. He knew that voice, but he couldn’t place it.

“Name?”

“You know perfectly well who I am.”

It was the haughtiness of the tone that pinged his memory. How could he forget, being lectured by Lan Qiren on his ungrateful nature and ruining of his nephew when he was being fired?

Just the memory made him nauseous. As far as he knew, Lan Qiren hadn’t reached out to A-Zhan, though Lan Xichen had, apologizing that they would be dragged into this again.

Quickly, he pulled his phone from his pocket and fired a text message off to A-Zhan.

Your uncle is here

“You’ll need to make an appointment,” he said blithely. “Have Lan Xichen set it up with A-Zhan. He has his number.”

His phone dinged as the uninvited visitor made outraged sounds that he very carefully refused to allow to register as words. Then the buzzer started up again, and he ignored it.

Not invited. Do not let him in.

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Wei Ying had to smile over his husband’s use of proper punctuation and capitalization, ever proper even via text.

on it, he replied. will let you know when clear

The noise from the intercom/buzzer ceased, thankfully, and Wei Ying moved back toward the office, stepping over the barrier that kept Turmeric from getting to all the cords. As he did, he texted Wen Qing to let her know what had happened.

a-zhans uncle buzzed from lobby

told him to make appt

idk what he wants

He sat down with a sigh and stretched before trying to immerse himself back in the code. He’d just found his line of coding error when a knock on the door reverberated through the apartment. Before he could even contemplate getting up, his phone chimed, a text from Wen Qing.

Auntie 6 came to me

He followed her in

Uncle 4 and I are on it

Which meant, of course, that Lan Qiren had breached the building, likely not even registering that he was trespassing, or so privileged that he felt trespassing laws didn’t apply to him.

Fuck.

He could feel his anxiety rising, something he didn’t need. Now was not the time for a Xanax, no matter how much his heart was fluttering at the idea of having to deal with A-Zhan’s uncle.

lmk when i can escape, he sent back.

Then he texted A-Zhan.

breached perimeter

qing-jie & unc 4 to rescue

will come to u

where r u?

Wei Ying crept to the living room, trying to stay quiet as the intruder knocked again, more forcefully. He debated for a moment, fiddling with his phone nervously before slipping it in his pocket, then grabbed Turmeric’s carrier, leash, and harness. The bunny needed some outdoors time, and Wei Ying would probably be able to meet A-Zhan and A-Yuan at the park.

The knocking continued, and he was certain before long Lan Qiren would lose all sense of decorum and start yelling through the door.

plz hurry, he texted Wen Qing.

He donned a hat A-Yuan had gifted him for Father’s Day, an adorable white bucket hat with bunnies and carrots on it, and a pair of big sunglasses. He was wearing torn jeans and a black t-shirt with a binary code motif Wen Ning had given him for Christmas—it read “fuck off,” but wasn’t too inappropriate given that only coders could read it. He was as decent as he was going to get.

Wei Ying opened Turmeric’s hutch and scooped him gently into the carrier, hushing him even though he was completely quiet and cooperative. He felt like an intruder in his own home, and it left a sour taste in his mouth.

Finally, he could hear voices outside the door—Uncle Four’s boisterous voice asking what he could do for “the gentleman,” Wen Qing mentioning trespassing, Lan Qiren’s haughtiness slowly sputtering out, growing distant as they led him away.

His phone dinged twice, A-Zhan texting the location of the park, and Wen Qing giving the all-clear. Wei Ying grabbed his shoes, keys, and wallet, Turmeric’s crate and his sundries, and slipped out of the apartment in socked feet, easing the door shut and locking it as quietly as he could.

He practically tiptoed down the side staircase, the one that didn’t lead to the lobby but straight outside, and slipped his shoes on in the vestibule before slipping outside into the sunshine, making sure the door shut behind him without anyone getting in.

The park, thankfully, was not too far away, and he didn’t see any reporters on this side of the building. Likely they had seen Lan Qiren enter and were all crowded on the side near the lobby hoping to see something good.

Fat chance.

Wei Ying booked it the first few blocks before he felt like he’d escaped and started to calm, but he didn’t really relax until he could see A-Zhan in the distance, looking in his direction, A-Yuan beside him sipping on a boxed apple juice. His husband folded him into a hug, and he could feel the tension ease from his body with a soft sigh.

“I brought Turmeric. He could use some outside time.”

The tiny smile he got from A-Zhan finished the job of easing the worst of his anxiety, and they sat with A-Yuan on the grass to bring Turmeric out of the carrier and belt him into his little harness.

His fingers fumbled on the buckles and he sighed in frustration.

“Sit, A-Ying,” A-Zhan said. “Relax.”

There was a bit of worry in his eyes, and that told Wei Ying he must look frazzled. A-Zhan knew his anxieties, knew what Lan Qiren had said to him, something he’d opened up about long ago, when they’d learned to communicate and work as a team, and when Wei Ying was learning not to push him away.

And so Wei Ying settled back and let him finish with Turmeric, focused on the sunshine and the breeze and the soft grass beneath him. His fingers itched to pull out his phone, though he’d received no notifications, and he resisted it, instead rubbing his hand along the surface of the grass, letting the individual strands tickle his palms.

Before long, their absolutely adorable second son was contentedly exploring the grass, and curious children were starting to gather. A-Zhan explained bunnies didn’t like loud noises and sudden movements, and told them if they had permission from their parents, they could approach one at a time to pet him.

A-Yuan tumbled into Wei Ying’s lap, content to watch Turmeric from there, and he had no doubt his son had picked up on his anxiety. He was a bright boy.

Eventually, the children wandered away, a calm bunny only so interesting, and A-Yuan was half-asleep on his lap. A-Zhan’s phone dinged, and he handed the leash to Wei Ying before fishing it out. A bit of texting and a few alerts later, his mouth was downturned.

“A-Zhan?” he asked.

“I sent Xichen to retrieve Qiren, but he insists he must speak to me.”

Wei Ying fantasized briefly about Lan Qiren being led from the premises in handcuffs, yelling, but he knew that wouldn’t solve anything. It could well make things worse, so he wasn’t even able to enjoy the fantasy.

“The board voted to remove xiongzhang,” he added. “Likely he wishes to insist I take over the company.”

He felt his chest clench at that. Pity toward Xichen, who had done what he could to keep Wei Ying out of prison even if only for A-Zhan’s sake, and the grief he was facing as his life fell apart around him. But more, there was fear that A-Zhan would take it, would leave him behind—not a rational fear given everything they had weathered together, but anxiety was cruel.

“You can take it if you want it, A-Zhan,” he said after a minute.

A-Zhan made a noncommittal noise.

“I am texting Wen Qing to prepare a conference room so we need not open our home to him,” he replied after a moment. “I should hear him out.”

Wei Ying looked away, swallowing hard at the taste of bile. His vision was blurred, but he kept a handle on it, refused to cry again over this.

“I… I’ll stay with A-Yuan while you meet him.”

He startled when A-Zhan knelt in front of him and took his hands.

“We are together in this and all things. Granny will meet us and watch A-Yuan during the meeting. I need you there, A-Ying. I will say no.”

Wei Ying glanced up at him.

“He will hound us until I meet with him, but I will not go back to Gusu Lan Tech,” A-Zhan said, his voice insistent, worried. “My place is with you, at Dafan.”

“You’re sure you don’t want it?” he couldn’t help asking.

This was, after all, a chance for A-Zhan to reconcile with his family and further his career. But his husband’s expression turned stormy at the question.

“They will never admit to having wronged you, A-Ying. I cannot abide that.”

Wei Ying manages a weak smile.

“They’ll never admit they wronged you, either.”

A-Zhan nodded, the corners of his lips taut with stress.

“Wen Qing will sit in with us since this is now a Dafan Applications matter. Uncle Four, too.”

Wei Ying blinked at him blankly for a moment before he understood. Technically Gusu Lan Tech was trying to poach A-Zhan from Dafan Applications, which made it company business. Lan Qiren was trespassing on Uncle Four’s property, which made it his business. And it meant they’d have witnesses. His husband was clever, and so was Wen Qing.

“A-Die, baba, okay?”

A-Yuan looked up at them solemnly. The poor child had been with them at the grocery store when Jin Zixun had ambushed them, had seen so much these past weeks that he didn’t understand. He deserved some explanation.

“We are, baobei,” Wei Ying said firmly. “Bad things happened a few years ago. Someone made it look like a-die did something bad, and they just got caught.”

He could see the moment their son understood.

“That’s why the mean man said it was your fault?”

Wei Ying nodded, and A-Yuan squirmed out of his lap to give him a giant hug.

“Thank you. Now baba’s uncle wants to talk to us, so we need to go home. You’ll visit with popo while we find out what he wants, okay?”

A-Yuan bit his lip, looking more anxious than a child his age should.

“Baba’s uncle won’t be mean to you, will he?”

His heart broke at his son’s concern. It was clear he’d picked up on undertones they thought they’d kept away. A-Zhan wrapped A-Yuan in a hug.

“Baba won’t let shufu be mean to a-die,” A-Zhan said seriously.

“And your gugu will be with us, so she won’t let him be mean to either of us,” Wei Ying added.

A-Yuan brightened—Wen Qing had a reputation, one even her five-year-old nephew was aware of. He trusted her to protect his dads.

“Okay,” A-Yuan said. “If you bring Turmeric with you, he’ll comfort you if he’s mean!”

Wei Ying smiled at that.

“That’s why we’re leaving Turmeric with you, so he can comfort you. I know you’re worried, but baba and I will be okay. We’ll come right home when we’re done and snuggle with you and Turmeric.”

Their son seemed to accept that, and A-Zhan deftly removed Turmeric’s harness and placed him in the carrier. He pulled their disguises from a bag. Wei Ying was delighted when A-Yuan put on his brown bunny bucket hat, and he reached out to arrange the ears once the boy had it on. A-Zhan was wearing his own bucket hat, green with frog eyes, also a Father’s Day gift from A-Yuan.

Honesty, he hadn’t expected that fatherhood would make A-Zhan even sexier, but he wasn’t complaining.

The walk home was quiet. Wei Ying dreaded reaching home and hated that he felt that way. The home he had made with A-Zhan and A-Yuan was precious to him, and it felt like a sacred space had been violated.

As they drew nearer, they planned to separate, A-Zhan taking A-Yuan to one side staircase, and Wei Ying taking Turmeric to the other, the plan to meet at the apartment.

Wei Ying was actually surprised when it went off without a hitch, and he opened the stairwell door to see A-Zhan unlocking the door, Granny already hugging A-Yuan. Just a few years ago she’d have picked him up, but he was a bit big for that now.

She smiled at his approach, reaching up to pat him on the cheek.

“Aiya, you look so stressed. Popo will make dinner,” she said. “Auntie Three is making baozi for the building, too.”

Several of the aunties loved cooking different things in excess, so every few weeks they would make a huge batch of something delicious for the whole building, since everyone in the building was family. Auntie Three’s baozi were a favorite of his; she remembered his love for spicy food and always accommodated that in his.

“Extra spicy for A-Ying,” he chirped, though popo clucked softly in a way that let him know she saw through his attempt at cheer.

She headed straight for the kitchen, where she would likely catalogue the fridge to decide what to cook. Whatever she made, it would be delicious; his mouth was almost watering just thinking about it.

He focused on getting Turmeric settled in his hutch, and A-Zhan got A-Yuan situated with a coloring book and crayons.

“I should change,” Wei Ying said, remembering his torn jeans and the shirt Lan Qiren might be able to decode.

He’d probably think Wei Ying wore the shirt on purpose to send a message. Frankly, Wei Ying wouldn’t mind that interpretation, but he didn’t want to antagonize.

“What you are wearing is fine,” A-Zhan said, catching his wrist. “He interrupted our day, and he can get us as we are.”

A-Zhan was still wearing the frog bucket hat, with apparently no intent on removing it. His light blue shirt, Wei Ying noticed for the first time, was the one with a print of a rabbit wearing glasses and a bow tie, with ‘daddy’ in script underneath. Wei Ying snagged his hat with the bunnies and carrots motif from where he’d placed it atop the bunny hutch and put it back on. They’d match, to a certain extent, present a united front.

“Be good for popo,” A-Zhan directed A-Yuan, as though their son would ever be anything but good.

The boy simply nodded and discarded his crayon to run over and hug them both.

The first two floors of the building were Dafan Applications office space. Though the first floor also held a lovely coffee shop and several other stores open to the public, the core of the building was the headquarters. An elevator and staircase serviced the offices, accessible with employee IDs. Each office was accessible only by swiping employee IDs, and record was kept of who entered and when.

Since the apartments were held entirely by family, it might have seemed paranoid, but Wei Ying was glad for the security the building had—after all, the lack of it at Gusu Lan Tech had led to him being framed for corporate espionage. Poorly, but it ultimately hadn’t mattered.

He hadn’t understood why he’d been framed, only that he’d had to correct Su She’s subpar coding many times when he’d worked there, so it wasn’t very surprising that he’d fuck up installing the code to the point where it would be caught before it could do damage. Since he’d never been anything but pleasant to Su She, that he’d been targeted had surprised him.

When he had mentioned his confusion to A-Zhan, about a week after the news broke, he learned that Su She had tried to tell A-Zhan that Wei Ying was a poor choice as a romantic partner, implying he would be better.

“I told him he was not qualified to speak with me,” A-Zhan had recollected.

It made a sick sort of sense—if Wei Ying was out of the way, fired or imprisoned, Su She might think he had a shot. And given that Lan Qiren had hated him even before he and A-Zhan started dating, the frame up job was sufficient.

A-Zhan took his hand and led him into the elevator, and he realized he must have blanked out because he hadn’t even heard it arrive. His husband was watching him in concern, and he hated how much this invasion by Lan Qiren was messing with him, but he absolutely wasn’t going to abandon A-Zhan to face him alone.

“I’m okay,” Wei Ying said. “I just want to get it over with.”

Uncle Four was waiting for them by the elevators. He offered a smile.

“I’ll bring by a few bottles of my newest brew later,” he said in greeting.

“That bad, huh?” Wei Ying asked ruefully.

“I don’t wish to speak ill of A-Zhan’s family,” Uncle Four said deferentially.

‘But that man…’ was heavily implied.

A-Zhan inclined his head.

“He decided Wei Ying’s guilt on flimsy evidence,” his husband said, his tone dismissive.

Wei Ying squeezed his hand—it was as close to disparaging as A-Zhan had ever come toward his uncle. More often, they simply pretended he didn’t exist, which prior to this had been fairly easy. When they had spoken of it, when he had finally told A-Zhan in one of his darker moments what Lan Qiren had said to him when running him out of Gusu Lan Tech with security, his husband had simply folded him in his arms and told him he was wrong, over and over again, and reiterated that he had chosen Wei Ying.

A-Zhan was angry, he realized. Perhaps over Lan Qiren returning to their life with all of his customary arrogance, or perhaps in defense of his brother, who was being excised from the company. He remembered, early in their relationship, learning that both brothers had been told what to major in, prepped for what Lan Qiren thought their careers should look like at Gusu Lan, which was why A-Zhan hadn’t been able to pursue music as he had wished. It was why he had expected him to break up with him, as ordered.

He wondered what Lan Xichen had given up, what dreams he had let go to serve his family.

“Tomorrow,” he told Uncle Four. “I think we’ll need tonight for us.”

The older man offered a sympathetic smile and escorted them to the conference room.

It was the ostentatious one they used for particularly obnoxious or status-obsessed clients, with handsomely-carved panels with the Dafan Applications logo and an imposing table that looked expensive but were actually the work of a family member with a woodworking hobby. It had two doors, one on either side of the long table, which was ideal—they wouldn’t have to walk past Lan Qiren to get in or out.

When they entered, Wei Ying’s gaze was drawn to Lan Xichen first, seated at the side of the table. He looked… defeated was the first word to come to mind. He glanced at his husband, could see he too was looking at his brother, concerned lines at the corners of his eyes betraying his emotions.

“Finally,” Lan Qiren commented, drawing their attention. “I don’t have all day.”

His gaze was, as usual, disapproving, and he completely disregarded the fact that he had been the one to crash their day, not the other way around.

“My husband told you to schedule an appointment,” A-Zhan said in lieu of greeting.

He tugged Wei Ying to the head of the table, where someone had thoughtfully placed two chairs. Qing-jie was his guess, letting them present as the team they were. She was on one side of the table beside the seats, and Uncle Four sat on the other, probably as owner of the building. Wen Ning was too faint-hearted to handle this, he knew, even though he was technically the head of Dafan Applications.

“An appointment, to see my own nephew?” Lan Qiren grated, glaring at Wei Ying like it was his fault.

“You told me five years ago that I was no nephew of yours,” A-Zhan said, his voice dispassionate.

Wei Ying knew how much that had hurt A-Zhan. Part of him wanted to tell Lan Qiren that, rail at him over every emotional scar he had inflicted on the both of them, but he also knew there was no point in it—he wouldn’t listen, and he knew well enough that it wouldn’t be cathartic. It was better to let A-Zhan get this over with and be here to support him.

“You were making a mistake!”

His continued glaring at Wei Ying made it obvious what “mistake” he was referring to, and he barely managed not to flinch. It was clear this conversation was not going to be pleasant. A-Zhan took his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently.

“As I recall, the evidence that he was not making a mistake has been all over the news,” Wen Qing drawled.

“What business is it of yours?” Lan Qiren demanded. “Why are you here?”

“As witnesses,” she replied. “And A-Zhan and A-Ying are family. We’re here for them.”

Warmth spread through Wei Ying’s chest at her pronouncement—he often referred to her as Qing-jie, but hadn’t known the sentiment was returned.

“And I own the building in which you are currently trespassing,” Uncle Four added.

Where he was normally a jovial and friendly man, his expression was serious and bordering on unwelcoming. Apparently Lan Qiren had made quite the impression on him.

Lan Qiren sniffed disdainfully, but finally focused on A-Zhan.

“The board has decided Xichen’s… indiscretions make him unfit to head the company. You have been appointed in his place. You will, of course, be expected to take the Lan name again, as will the child you’ve adopted. I’ve taken the liberty of securing housing for you, and I suppose we can find a place in the company for your husband, on a provisionary basis, of course.”

Dead silence followed his pronouncement, and Wei Ying felt dizzy with the presumption of all of this—A-Zhan was being ordered back to Gusu Lan Tech as though this wasn’t the first they’d seen or heard from Lan Qiren in over five years, clearly expected to obey without question.

“Provisionary?” A-Zhan murmured, his voice icy with what Wei Ying recognized as fury.

He squeezed A-Zhan’s hand, silently asking that he not be angry on his behalf. After all, he expected nothing but this treatment from Lan Qiren, so he wasn’t surprised to receive it.

“He’ll be expected to prove himself, of course.”

“He already has,” Wen Qing cut in. “He’s been an asset to Dafan Applications since the day we hired him, paramount to our success.”

Lan Qiren sniffed dismissively.

“Yes, well, his previous stint of employment at Gusu Lan Tech left much to be desired.”

A-Zhan’s jaw clenched. Wei Ying’s stomach roiled, remembering the constant criticism he’d faced there, how ultimately he wondered why they’d even agreed to hire him.

“I will not subject my husband to further abuse at the hands of the company that attempted to ruin his career.”

To his surprise, Lan Qiren looked satisfied by that statement.

“Then we’ll arrange for your move. You’ll be expected to dress more professionally in the future, as the representative of the company.”

He eyed A-Zhan’s hat and clothing with distaste.

Wei Ying stole a glance at Xichen, who looked haggard and drained and was barely listening to the conversation, and felt empathy for his situation. Xichen had always treated him kindly, until he went no-contact after A-Zhan’s resignation, something he was likely ordered to do. Even so, he also sought to warn them of what had happened, and had informed A-Zhan of Lan Qiren’s intentions. And he had stood fast against the board’s desire to have him prosecuted.

And now the man he had been set to marry is in prison, having brought Nie Innovations to its knees and attempted the same with Gusu Lan Tech, and what happiness he’d been looking forward to was just so much smoke.

“You misunderstand,” A-Zhan said. “I do not intend to relocate, or take on the Lan name, or chair Gusu Lan Tech. I will continue to work at Dafan and live in my apartment with my husband and our son. I will remain Wei Zhan.”

Lan Qiren looked shocked, almost as though he had been physically slapped, and then the anger returned.

“You leave me no choice. It will be a simple matter to buy out Dafan,” he said.

Wen Qing laughed at the threat.

“Dafan Applications is a worker cooperative. You have no power.”

For the first time he’d known him, Lan Qiren seemed incapable of words. After all, it meant that he and A-Zhan were part owners of Dafan, as all employees were, something he would never offer at Gusu Lan. Wei Ying privately hoped he was having an internal fit over the socialism of worker cooperatives.

A-Zhan, however, had plenty to say.

“You disrupted our Saturday after five years of silence to demand I change my life to suit your whims,” A-Zhan said coldly. “You didn’t even have the grace to apologize to Wei Ying, whose life and career you tried to destroy.”

Lan Qiren’s expression turned stormy.

“You chose this ill-bred miscreant over your family, and you expect me to apologize to him?”

“No,” A-Zhan said. “I chose the truth. I chose love. A-Ying is my family.”

“You,” Lan Qiren snarled, turning his attention to Wei Ying. “This rebellion is all your influence! A-Zhan was filial until you came along!”

Wei Ying stayed silent. His anxiety spiked but was soothed by A-Zhan’s hand in his, in the feeling of his fingers entwined. Lan Qiren could do nothing to them—he’d already tried, and they’d ultimately come out stronger. They’d built a life and found new family.

There was so much he could say, but he knew better than to think Lan Qiren would listen; he was a convenient scapegoat, and nothing would convince him otherwise.

“Have you nothing to say, you ingrate?” Lan Qiren demanded.

A-Zhan tensed, but Wei Ying squeezed his hand.

“I see no point in speaking to you,” he said honestly.

“You dare!”

Lan Qiren stood, quivering with rage.

“You broke our family as completely as you broke the Jiangs, and you have the gall to sit there smirking, enjoying the mess you’ve made!”

Mention of the Jiangs hurt—it had been weeks and only A-Li had reached out, but she had never broken contact to begin with.

Wen Qing slapped the table and stood, startling them.

“I’ve heard quite enough. You can’t bully your estranged nephew into uprooting the life he built after you alienated him, so you go after A-Ying again. You act the victim, but you drove A-Zhan away with your unmerited vitriol toward A-Ying.”

Uncle Four stood as well. He was a calm man, but Wei Ying could see him tremble—in anger or nervousness, he didn’t know.

“You are not welcome here, Lan Qiren. Leave or you will be removed.”

“And given that you attempted to poach two of our best employees and threatened our company, you can tell your board that Dafan Applications will never do business with Gusu Lan Tech,” Wen Qing added.

Wei Ying knew her level of petty and wondered if their new apps would unexpectedly glitch on Gusu Lan products in the future. Probably not, since she was focused on user experience.

Maybe he was the one feeling petty, but he doubted anyone who mattered would judge him for it.

“Clearly attempting to reason with any of you is an exercise in futility,” Lan Qiren said.

It took far too much energy to suppress a nearly-hysterical giggle building in Wei Ying’s chest at his complete lack of self awareness.

“Come, Xichen. We’re done here.”

A-Zhan bristled further, glancing at Wei Ying with a question in his eyes, and he nodded. Xichen deserved to know he still had family.

“Xiongzhang may stay for dinner, if he wishes,” A-Zhan said. “Our son would love to meet his bobo.”

A tiny smile lit up Xichen’s features, and Wei Ying got the impression it was the first time he’d smiled since his fiancé’s arrest.

“I would be honored to,” he said softly.

His voice was hoarse, as though he was no longer used to speaking, or was overcome with emotion. It could easily be both.

“Thank you, didi.”

Lan Qiren scoffed, and Wen Qing pointed at the door, raising an eyebrow. When he stomped out, she and Uncle Four followed him to escort him from the premises, leaving the three of them alone.

“Were you offered another position in the company?” A-Zhan asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Xichen shook his head, the fleeting smile gone.

“No. Uncle believes I need time to reflect on my mistakes.”

Wei Ying didn’t hold back a scoff, given that Lan Qiren had referred to him as A-Zhan’s mistake.

“You didn’t make any mistakes. You had no way of knowing.”

The smile Xichen offers is wrong, bitter.

“I should have done more. Instead of letting them scapegoat you, I should have insisted on a full investigation. Maybe we would have uncovered the truth and protected you. Maybe we could have prevented the damage to Nie Innovations and Mingjue’s health, too.”

He had forgotten that Xichen and Mingjue were friends somehow. Wei Ying wanted to tell him the guilt he carried was a burden that shouldn’t be his, but he also knew from struggling with his own that it was something Xichen would need to come to terms with himself.

“You should reach out to him,” A-Zhan said, looking at Wei Ying like he knew what he was thinking. “I doubt he blames you, and perhaps he could use the help.”

Xichen looked torn on the idea. Wei Ying could almost see the thoughts running through his head—that he would be unwelcome, a burden on his friend, but that it was a way to do penance for the sins he believed he’d committed.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said.

Wei Ying walked around the table and patted his shoulder, gesturing to the other door, the one that led to the interior of the building. A-Zhan had offered an olive branch with the invitation, and this was his.

“Come on. Popo is cooking, and Auntie Three made baozi for the whole building. And A-Yuan is waiting.”

The smile returned, a little stronger this time, and Wei Ying smiled back as Xichen levered out of his seat to follow them home.

-------------

Jin Zixun’s background is maybe based on a very well-known “journalist” who just constantly looks confused and outraged. To narrow it down, John Oliver did a segment on him recently. Uh, and maybe slightly on two other conspiracy theorists who pretend at journalism, one of whom keeps getting sued.

Also, I am old enough to text in full sentences most of the time. I had some friends check over Wei Ying’s panic texts so hopefully they’re believable.

This was difficult to write because of the anxiety Wei Ying was feeling and the uncomfortable conversations.

Also, I forgot the Nie company name and had to check—I couldn’t remember if it was Nie Innovations or Nie Industries. Turns out I accidentally used both in the first fic in the series. Fixed it now.

I maybe spent too much time researching worker cooperatives and employee-owned companies. It’s not a major part of this fic, but I thought it was a cool detail to bring in.

The title is, again, from the Li Bai poem.

27 notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Hold On Tight-Tommy Shelby x Sister!Reader

(GIF credit @hardytcm)

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: 'Hiya love, could yo do an imagine where the reader is a Shelby sister and is closest to Tommy, like best friends and they go do some business together one day and she dies? But like grace’s death where she’s in his arms and he’s obviously really sad but she’s trying to be positive about it. ❤️'

Characters: Thomas Shelby X Reader (siblings), Arthur Shelby x Reader (siblings), John Shelby x Reader (siblings)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, guns, violence, injuries/wounds, death

(A/N: This is before John's or Grace's deaths)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Morning boys." I greeted as my three older brothers walked in.

"Alright (Y/N)." Arthur nodded, hugging me briefly before making his way to the kitchen.

John copied his actions, catching up with him as Tommy entered, hugging me that bit longer.

"You sure you want me coming with you today?" I asked him as we pulled apart.

"I'm sure. You're the one that's been researching this guy for us, you're the best person to come along."

"Flattery doesn't get you anywhere Tommy. It's not like I'm going to object. Are you wanting to leave now?"

"Not just yet. We need to go over the plan again."

"Again? Tommy-"

He raised his hand, pointing at me."We always go over the plan-"

"Three times." we said in unison.

"Right." he nodded and went to the kitchen, me shaking my head behind him.

John and Arthur had already made themselves comfortable at the table, helping themselves to the freshly boiled teapot. As I walked past John, I smacked his legs that were resting on top of my table. He flinched, almost falling off his chair as he protested, rubbing where I hit him.

"Do you forget manners everytime you step into a civilised house?" I scolded playfully.

"Civilised house? Since when have you or anyone in the family been civilised?" he chuckled.

"Well, just don't put your grubby shoes on my clean table. My house, my rules."

"Alright mum."

I only rolled my eyes at him. John and I were only a year apart, I remember all the times we bickered as children, though there was definitely a love hate relationship. I always tried to act my age unless he was around, then it all went out the window. The boys were much older than us, and didn't always want to play; seeing as we were the closest in age, we compromised on our games, but I grew up with three brothers, they were bound to be tough. It built character (as they say), though it was only after the war that I became closer to Tommy.

Arthur had always been the best big brother, always looking after and defending me. As did John and Tommy, though Arthur could sometimes have a more authoritive look about him, more intimidating. I had always looked up to him. But Tommy and I never talked much, or played games with each other. He didn't even hug me much either. I saw my three brothers be sent off to war, and like all the men that left, they came back different. And Tommy coped with it in an extremely unhealthy way.

All those nights he had nightmares, he didn't have to be screaming in his sleep or crying, I just felt that something was wrong. A weird sense of dread would fill me before going to sleep, and it would wake me up, forcing me to go check on Tommy. He would rarely talk about it, but I stayed strong beside him, refusing to leave until he fell asleep again. Of course there were the drugs, and although I tried desperately to make him stop, he never did. However, I was there on the other side. It sort of happened naturally, our relationship. Maybe it came with age, maybe he acknowledged my help. Tommy was closest to me in my opinion, and I supported him with a majority of what he did (unless he used the family, that's where I crossed the line).

"I still don't know how I feel about this Tom." Arthur said.

"If you're talking about me, which you do every time we do something like this, then you need to get over it." I gently replied as I sat beside Tommy.

"You're my little sister, (Y/N), you shouldn't be here."

He wasn't being mean. He was just concerned. I smiled at him.

"Arthur, I've been through this a million times, with and without you guys. I'll be fine, we all will."

"Just get that feeling in me stomach-"

"That's enough Arthur." Tommy interrupted, lighting up a cigarrette. We waited for him to take a drag, exhaling the smoke before he spoke."We go through the backstreets, to their storage house for their booze. That's where we said we would meet. He has his men, we have ours. Now this is strictly business, no fucking threats, no fucking fighting, no fucking shooting. Understood?"

"I still think it's too dangerous for (Y/N) to come along." Arthur added.

"She's the one that's been getting the information for us. For some reason her tactics have worked better than ours."

"Oi!" I protested.

"That wasn't meant to offend."

"I've helped plenty of times before. Believe me Arthur, I've been behind the scenes of a lot of your operations."

"You've been around Tom too long, starting to speak like him too." Arthur smirked as he sipped his tea.

I ignored him."How many of your men will be there? Our dealer usually has ten with him at all times. He's agreed to not have anymore."

"Then we'll bring fifteen, ten with us and five to hide."

"You don't trust him."

"Any man who takes ten men as protection at all times is paranoid, meaning he'll also have some hidden away."

"So much for no shoot outs." John mumbled.

"Better safe than sorry." I snapped.

"Alright." Tommy warned."We're there to make a deal, and we'll leave with one."

We climbed into Tommy's car, silent as he drove to the meeting place. As we parked up our men were already waiting, watching as us Shelby's got out and walked ahead of them.

"So you listened to me then?" I quietly said to Tommy.

"What?"

"Finn's not here, that means you listened to me."

"Yes, I suppose you were right." he smirked.

"Good, he's still too young for all this."

"Now you sound like Polly."

I always felt nervous about these things. It never got any easier for me. Of course I didn't let it show on my face, and it always shocked these men to see a woman turn up. A slight advantage sometimes, they couldn't comprehend that a woman actually had a brain.

"How's Grace?"

"You want to talk about Grace, right now?"

"Yes, why not?"

He scoffed a laugh."Nothing stops you from getting into my private life."

"It's been a while since someone has been interested in you. And you're interested in her."

"I have never said that."

"There's no need to. It's obvious."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"(Y/N), we sound like children."

I laughed it off, sticking my hands in my coat pockets as the warehouse came into sight. There were two men guarding the doors, holding their guns. We didn't falter, approaching them with confidence. I thought they would search us, but instead, one of them disappeared inside, returning a few moments later, and nodding to the other guy.

"You can go in." he said, opening the door wider.

They stayed put as we all entered, following us from behind and closing the door. As expected, our dealsman was stood there with his ten men. I knew our lot were already trying to seek out anyone hidden away, they had been warned.

"Mr Vallier." Tommy started.

"Mr Shelby." He replied."Not like you to have this many men about for a business proposition."

"And you know how many men I have?"

Vallier ignored that question."Ah, I assumed your sister would come along. I've heard some remarkable things about her."

"The sister is present, you may address her." I interrupted.

"My apologies Miss Shelby. I've heard you commit acts that no other lady has ever done before. I must say, I am impressed."

"Thank you. You flatter me Mr Vallier."

He chuckled."So, Mr Shelby, shall we begin?"

It really was a simple trading agreement. Vallier was making some of the best gin in the country, though it hadn't become famous yet. He was a powerful man, built himself up from the ground; he ran his own gang, like us, knew that alcohol was a good selling point. Tommy saw an opportunity. Get him on our side, and we have another piece of territory as well as more money flowing in. It all seemed fairly simple, Vallier was just paranoid as we expected. This was the easiest meeting we had been to, and it made me nervous. However, that feeling started to drain away as we finished. There was more of a sense of feeling left out as I didn't get to say much.

Tommy and Vallier shook hands once we were outside the warehouse, both looking somewhat smug.

"Garrison?" John leaned over to me.

"Garrison." I nodded, smiling as he swung his arm over my shoulder.

Our lot began walking away, another deal was done. It was all calm and relieved until one of Vallier's boys started shouting, blocking our path.

"YOU KILLED MY BROTHER! HE NEVER DID ANYTHING BAD IN HIS LIFE!" He screamed, aiming his gun at Tommy.

"Don't shoot!" Tommy instructed.

John held me behind him."What the fuck is he planning now?"

"Sam, get inside!" Vallier yelled.

"I'm sorry sir, but these devil's had no right killing my brother, he wasn't even involved in any business!" the boy's aim never faltered.

Before anyone could figure out what to do, someone shot their gun, but it wasn't from the boy. We all ducked, running for cover as more bullets were fired. It was an ambush, there were hidden shooters, but they weren't working for Vallier. This boy wanted revenge. I knew this was all too good to be true.

John had pulled me behind a stack of crates, but the bullets were splintering the wood. We took turns peaking out and shooting, but it was impossible to see who we were shooting at.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" Tommy instructed John, but we were ultimately stuck.

"If you slip past the warehouse, you can squeeze through a narrow passage, that will get you out." Vallier rushed."Dont worry, these lads will run out of ammunition soon enough!"

John and I glanced at each other, and before I knew it, he was dragging me into the open space, headed where Vallier had mentioned. The warehouse was right night to a brick wall, with a gap just big enough for me to squeeze through. John on the other hand wouldn't even be able to get a foot in.

"John!"

"You keep going (Y/N), keep hidden until you don't hear no shooting no more, yeah?"

I nodded, groaning as I pulled myself through the gap. I had to walk sideways in order to keep moving, the bricks scraping against my skin. It was starting to get claustrophobic, and I was glad to have reached the end of it. Back in the normal streets, I seemed to be in the alleyway between people's back gardens. Slowly opening a back gate, I looked around it, praying there was someplace to hide. There was a shed, but I had a risk of being seen if the owners came along. But I was a Shelby, they should know who I am and not question it if I they did find me. And I had my gun, I was safe. Luckily the door was unlocked, and I hid inside, ducking so i wasn't seen through the window.

The relentless sound of bullets richoted through the air, echoing to me. I hated not being in the fight, but there was no time to argue in a battlefield. My brother's knew what was best for me most of the time... most of the time.

It sounded like there were less bullets flying about. One last shot rang out, I waited a few minutes for anymore sounds. When nothing came, I made my way back to the alley. I still had my guard up, not that my brother's would be dead, because we were the fucking Peaky Blinders, and this wasn't our final fight.

"In the bleak midwinter..." I muttered under my breath, slowly walking.

I wanted to call out to my brother's, though that was a stupid idea, and I kept silent. The sound of a gun clicking knocked my instincts into gear, and I aimed my gun towards the sound.

"What the fuck do your think you're doing?" I snapped. It was the boy that started this all.

"You fuckers killed my brother!"

"So you think that makes it OK to kill all of us?"

"I'll shoot you!"

Before he could do so, I shot him first, hitting him square in the chest. He froze, hands dropping to his sides, gun falling to the floor before his knees buckledonto the cobbles, and his body collapsed. I wasted no time running past him, checking the coast was clear before I rounded the corner.

"(Y/N)!"

Tommy was up ahead, already running towards me. I let out a breath of relief, also running to him. For fucks sake, why couldn't things go smoothly for once? It couldn't just be a done deal. Someone was always out to kill us.

My fingers outstretched towards Tommy's hand, and I almost grabbed them when an excruciating pain rippled through my back, and the another pang, and another. Everything went silent, my eyes widened in shock and the breath was all but gone from my body. The boy had shot me, somehow he wasn't dead and had shot me.

Tommy caught me before I hit the ground, and I wanted to desperately hold onto him, but I couldn't control my limbs.

"Somebody get the fucking car!" he yelled, the sound suddenly flooding back.

"T-Tommy," I shakily said, looking up at him,"h-h-hold me, please, I w-want t-to feel you."

His arms gradually gripped onto me tighter, and I showed no pain, even though it made me feel worse. It was rare to see Tommy Shelby cry, and it felt like an honour to watch them roll down and out of his crystal blue eyes.

I swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat."Tommy, l-listen. I-I w-want you to marry that....that G-Grace."

"What? (Y/N) don't worry-"

"She challenges you, I-I l-like her. A-and h-have a nice wed... wedding."

"I will."

"C-an I have a portrait? You always s-said I-I could."

He nodded."You'll sit for that portrait yourself. You're not going anywhere."

"(Y/N), Tommy!" I could faintly hear John and Arthur.

I smiled. My older brothers were here, they were going to look after me like they always did.

"John, Arthur."

"We're here (Y/N), alright?" John cried, grabbing one of my hands.

"Fucking hell." Arthur seethed.

"I-I love you all. T-tell Finn and P-Polly...that...I love them too."

"You can't go (Y/N), you just can't." Tommy whispered.

"You'll live on Tommy. Be happy, please, f-for me."

I lavished the feeling of comfort as I felt my skin turn colder, it was harder to breathe, harder to stay awake. The pain I was in didn't matter, I had my three heroes around me, my three brothers. They say us Shelby's couldn't be killed, and I had always lived by that. However, someone had plans for me to die today, and if it meant something bigger and better for my family then so be it. I held onto my smile as much as possible, not wanting my boys to see how I was hurting. As life slowed down around me, I looked up one last time into Tommy's eyes, his beautiful blue eyes that I was envious of; they were a comfort, a piece of my brother I would keep with me forever, even if they were full of tears.

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ohdaim · 3 years

Text

april fool's day oneshot

hi guys, i wrote this today in one sitting, and it's lazily edited:) i'm recovering from an oral surgery and on strong medication, so i hope this makes as much sense as i think it does.

Ship: Ignis Scientia/female reader Summary: You are a Citadel valet working the night shift, frequently attending to Ignis' car. You have no idea how to talk to him. He has no idea how to ask for your number. Words: 1849 idk if this is considered fluff or just mutual pining but with like,, idiots

Stir together bread crumbs, garlic, parsley…

You scanned the rest of the newest recipe on your favorite cooking blog, Feeding The Fussy. As always, it looked delicious. As always, you rated it five stars and typed out a comment.

I followed the recipe exactly, but I left out the bread crumbs and cheese. I used shrimp and bacon grease instead. Terrible recipe. Won’t make again.

Putting your phone away, you came to attention when someone stepped out of a Citadel elevator across the lobby. You worked night shift as a palace valet and hardly saw anyone but for a few regular night owls. One of them approached now, and gods, you were nervous all of a sudden.

Ignis was your favorite regular. He was polite, tipped well, and made small talk so you wouldn't have to. You didn’t know what he did in the Citadel or why he so often left at four in the morning. You just knew you had a big crush on him and, for that reason, could never carry a full conversation without getting sweaty palms.

“Good morning.” He greeted you first. “Quiet night?”

You nodded, entering the info you needed to check his vehicle out of the system. You wanted to say something, anything. Nerves got the best of you, and you excused yourself into the back room to get his car keys. On your way out, you held them up. “I’ll have your car here momentarily.”

Ignis didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at you. His attention was on his phone, a corner of his mouth curled upward.

You paused, taking in the smirk with shy curiosity. That was a new look. What was he smirking at? When he seemed to remember himself, he schooled the look and met your eyes. Startling, you repeated yourself quietly and went through the doors leading to the parking garage.

Ignis’ car consistently smelled like coffee wrapped in leather. Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you buckled in. Because you wanted to linger in the nice scent--was this extremely weird? Yes, of course--you checked to see what the buzzing was about.

An email. You’d gotten a reply from the Feeding The Fussy chef. They’d liked your comments in the past but hadn’t addressed your obvious jokes. You stared at the subject line for a beat, then opened the message.

Thank you for the review. Almost as insightful as last week’s eight hundred word description of your current diet and how my recipes conflict. Do you have any suggestions on how to improve this one?

Your nervousness grew so heavy, it burst in bright red over your face, a flame in your chest. The chef was talking to you. You’d chalked it up to luck that they understood your sense of humor and the intent of your comments. Never had you thought they’d give more than a like. You typed a response before getting back to work.

Pro tip: Using a microwave is faster than the oven. Also, I’ve begun a new diet (details to follow), so is there any way to make this recipe without the ingredients?

Ignis’ car was fancy but less so than most others in the garage. You always felt a pinch of regret when pulling it up to the lobby entrance. Driving a car like his just to see how fast it could go, it wasn’t something you’d ever get to do. You didn’t own one yourself, and truthfully, you'd only gotten a driving license to be qualified for this job. Getting out, you waved at Ignis and extended an arm toward the open driver’s seat.

Tip passing from his hand to your own, you bowed and tucked the money into a pocket. He thanked you, getting into his car. You waited for him to drive away, likely the last person you’d see this shift.

“Ah, pardon me,” Ignis startled you by climbing back out, the car door hanging open. He held something out to you. “I believe you dropped this.”

You looked at your phone in his hand, your eyes wide, nervousness becoming embarrassment. Quickly grabbing it, you bowed again. “Sorry.”

Ignis chuckled. “It’s quite alright. Good thing I noticed when I did.”

Nodding emphatically, you wished he’d just go before you humiliated yourself further.

Clearly not reading your mind, he lingered a moment longer. “In truth, I--”

“Have a good day, sir.” You didn’t mean to interrupt him and hadn’t expected him to say more.

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Same to you.” Thanking you again, by name this time, he left.

Back in the quiet lobby, you put his tip with the rest you’d made that night. You sat behind the desk and buried your face in your hands. The sting of feeling stupid in front of Ignis was abated by the underlying excitement that came from talking to the chef you admired.

They specialized in meals for picky eaters, which you were. They used clear directions, so they could be followed by an amateur chef, which you really were. They sometimes added personal anecdotes spiced with sarcasm and dry jokes to the recipe’s background, which made you feel safe to comment. You refrained from checking your inbox, content to wait until you were home to see if they’d replied yet.

Two attendants arrived for the day shift, and as you hitched the strap of your bag over a shoulder, readying to leave, one of them told you to wait.

“You should pick up a new nametag before your next shift.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you remembered you’d lost yours several days ago. “Oh, right. I will.”

You stepped into an elevator, pressing the button for the metro station level. New nametag. Dumb. You had your work badge but still required a tag. How else would the Citadel inhabitants know who to thank for fetching their expensive cars? You rolled your eyes at the thought, already annoyed. You’d have to come to work early to pick it up. Was it too soon to quit and attend culinary school? You needed to make a bit more money first. Ignis tipped large bills, but still, it’d take years of picking his car up every morning before you could afford tuition.

Grinning to yourself, you weaved through the incoming morning crowds and boarded a train home. It had felt nice, hearing Ignis say your name on his way out. He was the only person who ever addressed you, so maybe getting a new tag was worth it for that alone. Ignis was just-- He truly-- You really liked when he came down, that was all.

It didn’t strike you for another several hours, as you filled out the online request for a new Citadel employee nametag, that Ignis must’ve remembered your name. You supposed a great memory was probably just another part of his polite demeanor. That’s what you told yourself, at least, to keep your crush from growing. You didn’t even know the man.

You attempted the chef’s latest recipe, and as it cooled, you--very casually and not nervously at all--checked to see if they’d replied.

I’ll keep that tip in mind. As for your question, I recommend the following replacement recipe: brew a cup of coffee or tea, sit somewhere comfortable, and enjoy the beverage knowing your comments haunt me whenever I cook.

You read and reread the message, then laughed into a hand. Worth the wait. You ate a bite directly from the dish on your counter, huffing through the fresh heat with mild regret. They deserved a genuine review after such honesty, but it seemed you were doing little more than burning the roof of your mouth. So you took a picture of the food, offering a thumbs up with one hand in frame, and sent it as a reply.

The next night you worked, Ignis arrived much earlier than expected--before midnight, no less. He was coming in rather than going out. Another man was with him, someone blonde and unfamiliar. Ignis opened the back to retrieve something, turning you down when you offered to get it for him. The blonde man, his smile sincere but awkward, complimented your shoes.

“Thanks.” You didn’t really know what to say. People chatting with you was uncommon.

“They match your uniform’s tie… thing.” The blonde man was red in the face. Someone needed to tell him he didn’t have to make small talk. You were just a valet. He persisted, his smile broad. “It’s nice, y’know. You’re, like, coordinated and stuff.”

“Prompto.” Ignis closed the back and proffered a piece of luggage toward the other man. “Leave her be.” When the man took the bag from him, Ignis gave you the car keys. “I apologize for my friend. He can’t contain himself around beautiful women. Add inebriation, and he’s a lost cause.”

You gripped the keys tightly, taking in everything with a slow nod. Yes, of course, right. All of that made sense. Ignis was bringing a drunk friend into the palace. Normal Ignis stuff.

“Do you think Cor’s gonna be mad at me?” the blonde asked Ignis, walking backwards from the car toward the lobby doors. “Iggy, what if Cor gets mad at me?”

Ignis rolled his eyes, a hand checking his inner jacket. “A tad late to worry about that. Go directly to the barracks and try to sleep it off.”

“Where are the barracks again?”

Ignis’ chest broadened with a sigh, and he left the guy hanging. Withdrawing a money clip, he held it out to you. “For your trouble.”

You hesitated taking it. The outer bill appeared to be 1,000 yen, and it was several notes thick… More than the usual tip. You took it slowly, fingertips brushing his leather covered palm, and murmured a quiet thanks.

Ignis remained, his hand lifting to brush loose strands of hair out of his face. He wasn’t as put together as you were used to. Your eyes trailed downward, now noticing the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Huh.

He cleared his throat and began, “There’s something I--”

“C’mon, Iggy!” The blonde man held one of the entrance doors wide open. “If I knew Cor was gonna be mad anyway, I would’ve stayed at Noct’s.”

Ignis gave you a hasty farewell, already walking away to push the blonde man through the door. They disappeared inside, leaving an awkward wake of silence. You settled into Ignis’ coffee-and-leather scented car, a realization hitting you late, as they tended to do. Had Ignis implied you were beautiful? You didn’t entertain the thought for long. Ignis was a professional, royal something-or-other. He would never. You were reading too much into it. Surely.

On the walk from Ignis’ parking spot back to the lobby, you checked for the latest message from the chef. You’d boldly given them your number in a DM when the comment thread became unbearably long. You hadn’t held out hope of receiving a message and read their initial text at least ten times in disbelief before responding and saving the number.

Was this a new friendship? You hoped so.

#ignis scientia/reader #ignis scientia #ffxv fanfiction #daim writes #lmao do recipe sites even have direct messaging idk #this thing doesn't have a title #it was supposed to be about a prank but i am in fact the fool #anyway i love you guys please take this #i'm going to rest now aaaaaaaaaaaa

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ranger-jedi-knight · 4 years

Text

This Little Angel

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201565 Tagged: @chocolate1721 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos

Ok, so my Discord buddies caused this one, great idea. Just had to do it. Hope you guys enjoy it! Especially you Choco n AAAAAAAAAAAH.

Harley heard the crying first. When she looked over and saw the man standing over a couple with the child between them sobbing out. She couldn’t have been older than 3. The mugger ran as soon as he saw her. She ran over and kneeled down next to the little girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. The girl sobbed as she dove into Harley, burying her face into Harley’s shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry,” she mumbled looking at her parent’s bodies before looking where the mugger had left. It seems he was content to leave her to die alone. “Come on, sweetie, I’ll give you a good home.” she picked up the little girl, holding her close as she balanced the girl on her hip and walked back to her and Joker’s place. “Puddin! We have a child now!” she called and Joker looked over at her, his usual grin falling in confusion.

“What? What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked looking at her and the little girl in her arms.

“Well, Puddin, this little cutie’s parents were mugged and killed. The mugger left her for dead when he saw me,” she explained sitting down and bouncing her legs hoping to get the girl to laugh.

“Well, that is unfortunate,” he said and Harley gave him a big smile.

“But I figure we could raise her n give her a happy home!” she explained and Joker started nodding and smile grew on his face.

“Sounds good, Doll Face.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

No one knew Joker and Harley were raising a child. Well, that’s not totally true. Harley’s friends Ivy and Selina knew. But they weren’t ones to snitch to others. So it was a big surprise when Joker brought along a 6-year-old child with him the child was wearing a mix of red and blue inspired Harley dress with a deep purple tux jacket over it. Harley still wasn’t active which was confusing but they couldn’t question it. “Lookey here Batsy! I have one too!” Joker cackled happily and the little girl beamed in her arms. “Hello, there mister Bats! Would you like to smell my flower?” she asked and Joker pouted turning the dangling little girl to him.

“Mari darling, that’s not the script,” he said gently and Mari tilted her head. “I just want him to smell my flower,” she said softly, pulling the flower out of her jacket’s pocket and Joker placed her on the ground and patted her head.

“Batsy, please smell her flower and compliment it,” he said and Batman and his companions just looked very confused.

“Please?” she asked with a pout and Joker leveled a look behind them. Nightwing nodded and leaned over to smell the flower to not risk Joker’s wrath.

“Smells lovely,” he said and Mari beamed at him.

“He likes my flower, daddy!” she beamed and Joker smiled.

“He’d be an idiot not too, Mari darling,” he replied with a nod. “I’m not smelling the flower. What are you planning, Joker?” Batman asked with a glare. Joker frowned and pulled the plastic flower from his jacket and pointed it at Batman. Batman started reacting only to stop when he felt liquid hitting him.

“You’re a meanie, mister Bats!” she said pouting.

“You’re lucky its only water,” Joker said picking up the little girl.

“Daddy, can I please remake your suit now? It’s bad and Riddler shares the same color green,” she said and Joker had an offended look on his face.

“I will not share a color with that dimwit. We’re heading to the fabric and craft stores,” he said walking away and the bats were able to hear another part of their talking.

“And pay for them. I’m not using stolen goods,” Mari said with a frown, and Joker groaned.

“Ok, Mari darling. I’ll pay for the items,” he agreed. Batman and Robin(Tim) followed after Joker and Mari. Meanwhile Nightwing and Red Hood went to the base to get answers from Harley.

“Harley! You didn’t say you were pregnant!” Nightwing shouted as they entered to see Harley cooking while humming. “That’s easy, it’s because I wasn’t pregnant,” she replied turning to them and the two looked at her confused.

“Then where did the child come from?” Red Hood asked and Harley looked down at the pan sadly.

“You see, I came across her when I was heading back after hanging with Ivy and Selina 3 years ago. Her parents were killed in a mugging, the mugger ran as soon as he saw me, leaving her to be killed or something. So I took her home and Puddin n I decided to raise her. She’s doing so well, is she not? She’s even making Puddin act better!” she said beaming at the last part.

“That is good, we’ve been seeing the improvement,” Nightwing said and Red Hood had to nod agreement. Joker stopped targeting kids and teens, well excluding Robin and anyone helping Batsy, and his Joker Venom was only used if he did a big attack. Hell, he even apologized for how horrendously he killed Hood. That had Hood frozen in shock at hearing it. Granted Joker wouldn’t stop trying to hurt or even killing them, he just said he wouldn’t be as disturbing at it. Cause he can admit that that was a disturbing way to kill a kid. This wasn’t even the first time he’s heard of the flower now just spitting water! That little girl was an Angel sent from heaven, the two, well three counting Harley, were sure of it.

Meanwhile over with Batman and Robin, they were shocked to watch as Joker and Mari entered the fabric store. Everyone dove to the ground and the employees were shaking. But they did nothing but browse before taking it to the counter to get cut then heading to the front to pay for it, the needles, threads, scissors, sewing machine, and pattern for a new suit.

Mari was happily holding the bag of bought goods as they went to the craft store to get some other things such as a sketchbook, pencils, colored pencils, buttons, and the like. It was the same there as well. The customers fell to the ground and the employees were scared. Thou one employee didn’t look scared which confused the bats. Until they realized that the employee, a high school girl, was fighting to stay awake. After paying and leaving Joker was laughing at how the girl didn’t even blink as she fought to stay awake. When they glanced back, another employee was talking to the girl but the girl just leaned against the counter and fell asleep and the other employee looked terrified and got on the phone.

The two then went home and Nightwing and Red Hood caught up to Batman and Robin and told them what they knew and Batman sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three Years Later

Mari wasn’t happy when she earned her daddy hurt a kid. Someone a year or so older than her. But she also knew it was an accident, and accidents happened. The boy was trying to get to safety and someone else was the main problem hurting the boy. It was just cause Joker was attacking that the boy was running. She had brought the two sisters of the boy some sweets when she learned he went missing.

After doing that, with all of her other deeds, earned her the name of Gotham’s Sunshine Angel. Purely from how bright of an outlook she has when talking with people, brightening their days, and helping people out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

One Year Later

Mari had been excited when she met the new boy in her class. A 10-year-old boy named Damian had just arrived in Gotham to live with his father Bruce Wayne. When he arrived he was very closed off to everyone. He thought of himself as better which was ridiculous in her mind.

But slowly, ever so slowly, she got him to open up and become friends with him. It took over half a year to do that and she was proud of doing that. He was opening up slowly and actually acting like a child instead of an adult trapped in a child’s body. He was excited to introduce her to his family which she was excited too. She wanted to introduce him to her daddy and mommy!

She waved happily tot he shocked family. Tho from their faces she inched back nervous. “What’s the matter, father? Why are you acting like that to my friend?” Damian demanded, glaring at his family as Mari hid behind him slightly.

“Do you know who she is, Damian?” Bruce asked softly and Damian looked between him and Mari, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s Joker’s daughter, adopted, but daughter nonetheless,” he said slowly and Damian whipped around to glare at her. A whimper left her as she backed away from her friend.

“You’re Joker’s child? And you didn’t think to tell me?” he demanded and Mari bit her lip, holding back a scream when her back hit the door as Damian and his family looked at her. His family was shocked still, but Damian?

Oh.

He looked furious.

“I-I thought you knew,” she stammered out, shrinking under his gaze. “E-everyone knows it since I was 6.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” he demanded.

“She’s telling the truth, Damian. Joker and Harley adopted her after finding her crying. It was a mugging gone wrong,” Bruce explained and Damian turned to him with narrowed eyes before turning back to Mari once more.

“How do I know she doesn’t have some evil plan? She’s the child of Joker,” he spat and Mari couldn’t hold back the tears. With a cry, she pulled the door open and rushed out of the manor.

What she didn’t see as she ran thru the rain and foggy street back to the city, Damian being glared at by his family.

What she did see tho?

It was too late.

A van screeched to a halt in front of her and a couple of men leaped out and grabbed her. She screamed out in fright, hoping someone would hear and help, but alas, it wouldn’t matter. They got her into the van and duct-taped her mouth.

When they got to the warehouse they got her changed into clothes all the other kids inside wore. Within a few hours, she and the others were on a supply plane toward Paris, France, sold to a sleazy orphanage.

Joker and Harley were in a frenzy that night. The Bats did what they could to calm them but it was difficult.

You shouldn’t mess with the Joker’s daughter.

That’s how they learned that she never made it home. The sweet angel would never do something like that to her parents. If she had a problem like a fight that happened, she would talk to her mommy and get advice. They didn’t learn until it was too late thou.

They were told she would be staying a few hours with her friend Damian. After those few hours, she was gone, already on a plane, leaving behind devastated parents and a guilt-ridden friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(⋟﹏⋞)~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mari was jostled awake by one of the women running the orphanages. “Name?” she demanded and Mari opened and closed her mouth a few times trying to think, her face screwing up as she did.

“I-I think my name is Marinette,” she said after a bit and the woman’s face softened a bit.

“You think?” she asked and Mari nodded.

“I-I can’t remember anything,” she said and the woman nodded understanding.

“Well, it sounds like you have amnesia, Marinette. You’ll be lucky if it returns soon,” she replied writing some things down. “Get up, we need to get you cleaned up, some lovely people are coming by to see if there are any children they would like to adopt.”

Mari nodded and got up slowly, following behind the woman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(⋟﹏⋞)~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mari was tired. She’s been with Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng for five years now. They were fine. They treated her well, but worked her hard. They had her helping in the bakery a lot. When that wasn’t happening, they talked to her only when eating together. When not doing either of those, she was sewing, but only sewing things her classmates, used to be friends, wanted. And when she wasn’t doing that, she was doing her Class Rep duties.

But oh.

On top of all that!

She was Ladybug, the hero of Paris.

Ya, she was tired. Her partner Chat was useless. He flirted constantly and didn’t know how to take no as an answer. Then there was also, Lila, a super liar who got her class to turn against her. Ya. she’s not having a good time in Paris.

She also wanted to remember her past. She keeps remember fuzzy figures that bring comfort, but she just can’t remember.

And it’s driving her nuts.

She slumped at her desk looking at her teacher who once more overlooked her. But then glared at her once Lila claimed something. Chloe sat down next to her and patted her back in comfort. She was glad to have made a friend with Chloe. She had been prepared to deal with Chloe, but she didn’t know how she was prepared for it. Just that she was.

“Have you head from WE?” Chloe asked and Mari shook her head. “Not yet. Any day now,” she replied and Chloe nodded.

“And your parents?”

“Couldn’t care less. They only care that I won’t be able to help them out,” she answered with a sigh and Chloe shook her head.

“Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous,” she said with a flip of her hair.

“Class, I have a special announcement!” Bustier called and the class looked up at the teacher. “Our class is going to Gotham for a week to tour Wayne Enterprises!” she said happily and the class started cheering.

“Oh, I just knew my Damiboo would come thru for me!” Lila said and that had the class looking at her.

“Really girl!? Tell me the deets!” Alya said and Lila beamed as the rest of the class agreed.

“You see, I’m dating Damian Wayne, heir to Wayne Enterprises. When he heard that m-our class was fighting to win the chance to go, he promised to pull some strings and he pulled thru!” she said happily to the camera Alya whipped out and Alya started talking to it but the two girls in the back ignored it all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mari squealed next to Chloe as the exited the plane.

Alas, she should have known.

Nothing good ever stays.

She had to walk to the school they were visiting since her class left her behind. As soon as she got there, gasps rang out. A tall teen with tanned skin, black slicked-back hair, and the most intense emerald gaze walked over to her. Whispers rang around the halls about the Ice Prince, wondering what he was doing. The whispering got worse when he placed his hands on her shoulders and you could see him holding back tears.

She looked at him confused, she recognized him but couldn’t place it for the life of her.

And it pained her not being able to.

The teen pulled her into a bone-crushing hug with a soft gasp. “I’m so sorry, Angel,” he whispered. That brought tears to her eyes. He pulled back to look her in the eyes and looked concerned about the sad expression in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, I….I don’t remember you,” she whispered and his expression turned pained as they heard a shout and a blonde teen ran into Mari giving her a hug and looking at him sadly.

“I’m sorry. If you’re from her past, she doesn’t remember anything from before 6 years ago when she was adopted,” she said and the boy nodded understanding. “Chloe Bourgeois,” she introduced and the teen shook her hand. “Damian Wayne. Thank you for telling me,” he said and she nodded. “If you allow it, may I accompany you and tell you how we first met years ago?” he asked and Mari gave a slow nod.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she answered and Damian gave the barest smiles and the three headed off to classes, just in time to hear Lila boast about ‘Damiboo’.

Oh, she’s going to regret that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week consisted of Damian and his friends Jon and Xander, hung with her and Chloe telling them about the year she disappeared, the year she and Damian met and became close friends. He didn’t go into too many details about the fight, just staying they had a horrible fight because he was an idiot and how sorry he was about it. He wanted to make sure she knew he was sorry.

And it did help, she could remember a bit more but still had trouble.

But it was progress.

And Mari is happy about it.

When it was time to leave, Damian was there to see her off, but they were both surprised to see Bruce walking up to her with Joker and Harley with Commissioner Gordon helping watch them.

The whole airport froze at the sight of them, remembering the terror they brought years ago when their daughter disappeared. Damian went over to Bruce, the question clear on his face.

“I got Mari’s class this trip because I recognized her. I thought her parents would appreciate seeing her,” he whispered and Damian gave a soft smile as he watched Joker and Harley freezing up when they saw Mari.

“Mari darling,” Joker whispered and they watched as tears gathered in her eyes as a recognition went over her. She knew them, she wasn’t sure how, but she knew them. Chloe was looking at the three with wide eyes. “H-how do you-?” she started and cut herself off but the two knew what she was asking.

“Because, you’re our daughter, pumpkin,” Harley whispered and a ragged breath left her as she held back a sob.

“D-daddy? M-mommy?” she whispered and the two nodded. “I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, remembering everything, out running to them and the two pulled her close and started crying themselves.

“It’s ok, Mari darling. We know you didn’t mean it. We’re just glad your safe now,” Joker whispered as they collapsed onto their knees to the ground.

“S-still, I should-I should have called for you and-and waited!” she sobbed out and the two gently shushed her.

“It’s ok, pumpkin. We don’t need to dwell on the past. You’re here now,” Harley whispered and Mari nodded into their shoulders.

“I’m glad I found you again,” she whispered and they nodded themselves. They slowly pulled back when Mari heard Chloe cough. “I-I’m sorry, I have to go back now,” she whispered and the two looked sad at that.

“Uh, You’ll get longer actually,” Chloe said annoyed and that had everyone in the airport confused. “They left without us,” she scoffed jerking a hand back to the empty gate and terminal.

“What!?” Gordon shouted and Chloe nodded as the man ran to the gate’s desk and spoke to the pilot angrily.

“Marinette,” Bruce began and Mari turned to him and tilted her head.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to come back and live in joint custody of Joker and Harley?” he asked and Mari started nodding before stopping.

“Joint?” she asked looking between the two.

“We, split after you disappeared, pumpkin. We couldn’t stop arguing, but don’t worry, we aren’t arguing anymore, and won’t ever if you stay with us,” Harley said and Mari nodded slowly.

“And, Mari darling, don’t blame yourself. Ok? We’re both happy with where we are, your mommy is in a great relationship with Ivy now and is very happy. And I am enjoying the bachelor life!” Joker said happily and Mari beamed at that.

“I’m glad you’re happy now, daddy, mommy,” she whispered and the two nodded back with smiles.

“We are too, Mari darling.”

“I can speak to the officials in France about this as you were taken from your parents,” Bruce said and Mari smiled at that.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” Mari whispered.

“The plane is too far away for them to turn around. But once they land, you’re teacher will be in trouble and investigated for leaving two students in Gotham,” Gordon said walking over to them after finishing the radio call.

“You should also have her adopted parents investigated,” Chloe said thru a scoff and that had the small group looking over at her while Mari shrunk.

“What do you mean?” Gordon asked confused.

“They neglect her daily and force her to work in the bakery or make things for her ‘friends’ even though they know she doesn’t think of them as such,” she explained and Gordon slowly nodded at that.

“I’ll tell them that,” he said walking away.

“While that is figured out, why don’t you two stay at Wayne Manor until it’s all done,” Bruce suggested and the two teens nodded agreement.

“I’ll take your bag,” Damian said and Mari smiled at that as she stood up and her parents squished her between them.

Yeah, she’s happy to finally be home.

Ok, I hope you guys enjoyed this!! This was pretty fun to write. If enough people ask, there MAY be a second part. But we’ll see. Anyways! Hope you enjoyed this long fic! Until Next Time!! -Love Willa<3<3<3

#fanfic #A Little Angel #ALA #my wriing #good joker #joker is a dad #ml x dc #maribat #daminette #amnesea #remembering #long fic

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