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claudiafernandez96 · 3 years

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reckless with a capital R pt. 1 || claudia & cillian

discord thread featuring; claudia & @cilliankelly

when: december 20th, late night

mentions: @judetaylorhq @robinscnfm

where: east kingsboro

description: cillian and claudia get fucked up, steal a car then crash it

trigger warnings: yeah a lot. drug use, alcohol, DWI, theft, blood, injuries

Cillian

things were getting a bit too overwhelming for cillian. a lot was changing in a very short amount of time and every time he thought about the future he began to panic, his chest so tight with anxiety it was difficult to breathe. he needed to do something dumb. something really dumb. and who did he know that was ALWAYS down to do some really dumb shit? claudia. they were both already absolutely fucked up. cillian didn't remember the last thing he was ever this drunk. physically could not remember. everything was starting to blur a bit to the point where it was hard to even put one foot in front of the other. if only they didn't have to walk at all... claudia was hanging off of claudia, the two not getting very far on their feet, stumbling through the darkened streets of east kingsboro. "i am soooooooo fucked right now, you don't even know. i mean, you DO know, shit," cillian laughed, turning his head to look at claudia. taking his eyes off his feet for two seconds was enough to almost have him tripping over himself, almost taking claudia down with him. "fuck. what a night. we gotta do this more often," he slurred. they used to do this shit all the time when they were dumb teenagers. why did they ever stop? cillian couldn't remember. "we should get outta here. go somewhere." cillian's eyes landed on a car parked just up the street. no one was around. cillian smiled mischievously over at claudia. "i think i just had an idea," he sang.

Claudia.

Claudia and Cillian’s relationship had change a little bit recently. But in actuality...had it really changed at all? They still felt the same way about each other that they always had. Things were just clearer now. Their dynamic hadn’t really changed, so they both still made dumb decisions together. This might be on the list of one of the dumbest things they were ever going to do. Claudia had pregamed this. She’d done one too many lines of coke before they went to the bar in the middle of the day on a Sunday. Then, Claudia went to the bathroom and did more likes of coke. Shot after shot after shot had been downed by the pair. Why? They were both self hateful people who fed off of each other’s hatred for themselves. They didn’t care what happened to themselves which was one of the many reasons they gravitated towards each other. They stumbled out of the midnight rodeo after literally being kicked out. “I hate this hick bar anyway!” She yelled, turning to give the bartender the middle finger even though she would have kicked out anyone acting remotely as stupid out of Blue. They walked on the street, hanging on each other like the dumbasses they were. Claudia’s green eyes followed Cillian’s and she immediately knew what he was thinking. “I’m driving!!!” She spurred, running and nearly tripping over herself and she nearly hugged the luxury car that was parked on the street. “How do you wan’ bet its locked?” She mused before she was actually opening the fucking driver side door. “Oh shit.”

Cillian

cillian was actually laughing, watching claudia run ahead of him towards the car. he was suddenly serious though when the door actually opened, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ as his eyes widened. “holy fucking shiiiiit, are you kidding me?! fuck,” he breathed as he reached claudia at the car. this nice a car? unlocked? in east kingsboro? the only thing that could be stupider is if— cillian reached into the car and lowered the sun visor on the driver side. and just like that, they keys fell into the driver seat. it couldn’t be that easy. it’s like the guy was asking for it, honestly. cillian widened his eyes even further, his eyes meeting claudia’s. “claudia. holy fuggin’ shit.”

Claudia.

No way. This wasn’t real. It was like this car was just asking to be stolen. What dumbass would actually leave their car just chilling, unlocked on the street in New York City. They had to steal it now. “Lemme, lemme.” She said, snatching the keys from him but immediately dropping them as soon as they were in her hands. She cursed under her breath in Spanish as she bent down to pick them up. Except! She fell right onto the snowing ground right on her ass. She mumbled some more Spanish profanities under her breath as she struggled to stand up. “Maybe you.” She decided, waving the keys in the air towards him.

Cillian

cillian couldn’t help it. claudia was in her ass and he nearly doubled over laughing. he was really fucking drunk and that was maybe the funniest thing he had ever seen. even funnier though was when claudia offered him the keys. now. cillian didn’t drive. couldn’t drive. didn’t even have a license. but seeing claudia on her ass in the snow made cillian feel like him getting behind the wheel was still the safer bet. he took the keys from her before pulling her up on her feet, nearly falling on his ass in the process. after a good deal of giggling and stumbling in the snow, they were both in the car, cillian behind the wheel and claudia in the passenger seat. they were really gonna do this. they were gonna steal this car. cillian admittedly felt a bit anxious, but he was drunk enough that he was also feeling invincible. he could definitely do this. how hard could it be. he tightened his hands around the wheel and took a breath before turning the key and starting the car. he smirked over at claudia in the passenger seat, wiggling his eyebrows for good measure. “you fuckin ready for this?”

Claudia.

Even on her ass, Claudia still had an attitude. “Fuck you!” She exclaimed, giving him two middle fingers. She couldn’t help but through her head back as she laughed along with him though. Because this was hilarious. She didn’t know how much of this she would remember in the morning, but she was happy right now. Or at least she was happy being miserable with Cillian for now. That was what they did after all. Claudia huffed as Cillian pulled her to her feet, jumping slightly as she hiked up her black jeans. She couldn’t believe they were about to stealing this fucking car. She put her seatbelt on. Why? She wasn’t sure. She was stealing a fucking car, so the fact that she was making a semi responsible choice was beside her. Anyway. She looked over at Cillian and nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek for good luck. Guess they did that now? “Ready.” She slurred, bracing herself for whatever the hell was about to happen.

Cillian

cillian felt really good. like he could do absolutely anything. suddenly his problems were behind him, he couldn’t even remember what they were. all he knew was that claudia was beside him, encouraging him, and they were about to steal this fucking car. what was that line from that movie? the one with boat? “i’m king on the world!” cillian shouted, throwing the car into drive and speeding forward, skidding slightly as he did so. he hadn’t taken into account how slick the street would be with the snow, or how dark it was, or how he really had no idea what he was doing. he didn’t see the concrete road divider up ahead in time. “shit,” he breathed, eyes widening as he swerved to the right to miss it. but it was too late and the driver’s side collided with the road block. the car spun out to the right before coming to a stop. it felt like everything was moving in slow motion and yet it was over in an instant. between the adrenaline, shock, and alcohol in his system, cillian didn’t feel any pain immediately. he struggled to breathe at first, the airbag having deployed, knocking the air out of him. his first instinct was to look to claudia, though he couldn’t speak right away, forcing out a cough instead, trying to collect himself. shit shit shit. “claudia?” he sputtered out eventually, reaching for her. “you okay?”

Claudia.

There was a brief few moments in which Claudia felt completely invincible. Theses were the types of moments that she lived for. The moments that actually made her feel something besides complete numbness or utter despair. Right now she felt like she was flying. Most literally too. She felt her face hit the airbag with a force that was painful in and off itself, but when the force made her head jerk back and hit the back of the seat. Now that hurt. Fuck. The car was spinning out control and Claudia felt everything stop. She took a moment, the initial shock of it all making her freeze. She couldn’t feel anything. Not yet. Which surprised her. But she was fucked up and in shock. Absolute shock. She took a sharp breath in, remembering that she needed to breathe. “C?” She choked out, weakly turning her head to face the male. Her eyes widened and her heart stopped. He was fucked up. She checked herself. She was...okay compared to Cillian. “Cil. Oh my god! You’re bleeding.” She cried out in an absolute panic as she pointed to his leg. What could they do? They needed to get the fuck out of here. They couldn’t wait for help to arrive or else they’d both go to jail. Think, Claudia. Think. Jude? No he’d kill them. Where were they? Ellie maybe! She practically fell out of the smoking car and hobbled over to the driver’s side. “Get out. I’m calling Ellie.” She commanded weakly.

Cillian

cillian was fucked up. it hadn’t quite registered yet. he was more concerned with claudia for the moment, choking out a relieved sort of wheeze when she responded to him. thank fuck, he thought, his head lolling back so that he was faced with the airbag now which was starting to deflate. the pain he felt first was his face, surprisingly enough. he tasted blood and thought that maybe his nose was bleeding. he wasn’t sure. he touched his face absently and winced. he’d definitely have a pretty bad bruise. he didn’t think to look down until claudia mentioned his leg, and though the pain still wasn’t registering, his eyes widened and he felt nauseous at the sight of it. it felt unreal. like this wasn’t happening to him but to someone else. an out of body experience. “holy shit holy shit holy shit,” he swore repeatedly under his breath. sure enough, there was blood and panic began to set in as he realized what that probably meant. claudia was at his side suddenly, urging him to get out of the car. cillian knew they had to get out of there and fast. they’d been committing a crime. literal grand theft auto. they couldn’t be anywhere near the car if they wanted to get away with this. cillian’s brain somehow seemed to be one step ahead of the rest of his body. he couldn’t move. “i can’t— fuck, claudia i can’t fucking move, i think i— fuck, i think it’s broken,” he rasped. they had to get out of there and he didn’t trust that claudia could carry him anywhere in her present condition. he was disoriented as fuck and a little dizzy, either from the shock or the blood loss. cillian didn’t know shit about first aid. when claudia mentioned ellie’s name he nodded urgently. “yeah, fuck, call ellie.” he looked around, paranoid that someone would be coming to check on them at any moment. cillian reached for claudia, his heart in his throat as he continued to have to remind himself to breath. “help me.”

#discord #cillian #tw: car accident #tw: blood #tw: substance abuse

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erintoknow · 5 years

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“Fine, woman, have your secrets”

more fallen hero:rebirth fanfic, set pre-Heartbreak. so, chargestep... fluff??

Julia’s pulling at your arm, dragging you after her through the apartment complex. She has this huge shit-eating grin on her face and despite your best efforts it’s hard not to feel it too. “I can’t believe you did that!” You hiss at her.

“I can’t believe I did that!” Julia comes to a stop in front of what you assume is her apartment door and pulls you into a hug.

You squirm in her arms, pushing her off you. “You’re the Marshal! You can’t punch out your boyfriend!”

“I think this technically makes him an ex-boyfriend now.” She sorts through her pockets, looking for keys.

“This isn’t a joke!”You press a hand to your temple, willing yourself to stay mad.

Ortega at last finds her keyring, slipping a finger through the metal loop and flipping the keys through the air with an entirely unneeded flourish before unlocking the door and pushing it open. “Ladies first,” she says, ushering you inside. You hesitate, glancing at her. Julia’s been trying to invite you over for ages now and you’ve always managed to wriggle your way out of it. Was this whole thing really her way of pressing the issue? No, no. Julia can be craftier then you give her credit for sometimes but well… it’s not like she’s you. You return Ortega’s grin with a nervous smile of your own and step inside. Julia follows behind you, pulling the door shut.

Julia’s apartment isn’t terribly extravagant, there’s a living space with a couch, coffee table, and TV, a kitchenette to your immediate left as you walk in. Behind the TV the massive glass window gives a view of the skyscrapers that make up the heart of the city. “Welcome home,” she says, “there’s the fridge over there,” she gestures with her free hand as she locks the door, “help yourself to whatever.”

“Um… sure, thanks.” You answer, feeling a little small. Everything looks so clean, and new, and the difference between the lives of Julia Ortega and Ariadne Becker have never felt quite so stark before.

If Julia notices your cowed reaction, she doesn’t let on. That’s either uncharacteristically polite of her or she legitimately doesn’t notice. You’re not sure which you’d prefer.

“What on earth possessed you to punch that poor man?” You stick to a safe question.

Julia avoids you gaze, walking past the kitchen counter to what you assume is her bedroom. “Don’t you worry about it,” she pauses, then adds “he had it coming anyway.”

“Doesn’t he have like…” you falter for a moment, “many dollars?”

She looks back at you, amused, then gestures at the Ranger uniform she’s wearing. “I’m going to put some normal clothes on, no peeking okay?” She laughs as if this is the funniest thing in the world and shuts the bedroom door.

You roll your eyes and bury your head in her fridge. “Wouldn’t dream of it, you old hag.”

Through the door you hear a muffled “I heard that!”

“Good! I’d hate to think an old woman like you already needs hearing aides!”

You pull a can of cheap bear out of the fridge, and then on second thought, grab another for Ortega, leaving them both out on the counter. Hanging on the wall across from you is a collection of framed photographs. Most of the faces you don’t recognize. Friends? Family? Is this what real– what normal people decorate their homes with? You can’t help but feel a little pang of jealousy. Odd, you don’t find any pictures of her boyfriend, or maybe, that’s not so strange? You don’t really know how this kind of thing works.

Her newest boyfriend is this blue-eyed blond-hair corporate sponsored hero, and like all corp heroes he looks like he came straight off the rack of central casting. The two of them met on the job, because of course, and corp-man had ideas about ways the Rangers could shore up their finances.

You’ve made a pointed effort not to learn or remember the man’s name.

Julia steps out of her bedroom, looking much more at home in a pair of slacks and a tank top. To your surprise her braid is undone, hair looking wild and free as it trails down her back. You toss her one of the beers, “Thanks,” she catches it and cracks it open.

You grab the other can and join her on the couch. “Are you going to tell me why you socked your boyfriend in the face?”

“Damian is a pendejo.”

You give Julia a look. “I’ve been telling you that for weeks. Hell, Steel of all people told you that.”

Julia groans and stares at the ceiling, “Yeah, but… I thought I could put up with it at least until the sponsorship deal was signed. But then tonight right after you left he…”

“He what, Ortega?” You press.

“Oh, you’ll just get mad if I tell you.”

You huff. “Well gee, Ortega, now I’m just mad without knowing why I’m–”

She waves a hand to cut you off. “It doesn’t matter what he said, I’m done with him.”

You sigh, the static hum of Julia’s mind betraying nothing of what went on in the entire minute between you leaving Ranger HQ and Julia bursting out after you, grabbing your arm, and yelling for you to run for it. “Fine, woman, have your secrets.”

“Thank you. I don’t want to think about that jerk right now,” She drains the rest of her beer, dropping the empty can on the coffee table. Julia makes a face like she just drank something foul. “I’m already going to have be kissing asses all week to make up for this.”

“How inconsiderate of him, really.”

“I know!”

With that line of inquiry out of the running, you let the awkward silence fill the air between the two of you. You shift in your seat to stand up, only to find Julia’s hand on your sleeve, trying to pull you back down.

“Hey, don’t go. Not yet.”

Something in her voice makes you stop, frozen in mid-rise. “Are you-“

“Pizza!” Julia pumps a fist in the air, “we should order a pizza and watch a movie!”

You sit back down.

It’s one in the morning when the credits for James Cameron’s Apollo 13 finally roll. Two empty pizza boxes lay open on the floor, and enough empty cans of beer (most of it Julia’s doing) that you don’t want to count them. The Coffee table has been pushed out of the way, against the wall so you can Julia can sit on the floor, backs against the couch like the pair of delinquent teenagers you must definitely are not.

Julia stretches her arms, arcing her back as she raises her fists into the air. “Wow, that was pretty good with the special effects and all.”

You look away from her, suddenly, painfully aware of how you don’t have any right to be here. “I can’t believe they got actual footage.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Julia giving you a strange look. “What do you mean?”

You can feel the heat in your face, instantly aware you’ve said something wrong but helpless to do anything but see it through. “The-the one scene on the moon?”

Julia stares at you for a moment longer than bursts out laughing. “It’s science-fiction you dummy!” She lightly jabs you in the arm as you sink down to the floor, face burning. “No one’s ever actually gone to the moon!” She cackles.

You can feel a knot in your gut, you’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up and now they’ll all know. They’ll know your fraud and a liar and they’ll turn you back over and you’re going to lose everything and she’ll hate you forever and–

“Hey, hey, Ari? You okay?” Julia’s hand is on your shoulder, shaking you gently. The laughter is gone, replaced with a look of concern, and that almost scares you more.

You rub your eyes, “it’s fine, I’m fine,” you lie. You shrug off Ortega and push yourself back up right. You take the chance to get up and stretch your legs, gather up the garbage, pull your face back into a neutral expression.

Julia stifles a yawn and runs her hands through her hair, trying to gather it into strands, but not quite getting it. “Damn,” Julia giggles, “I’m drunk as hell.”

You put on a concerned frown, eager to let things move to a new topic. “What are you trying to do?”

Julia tries to cross two handfuls of hair, “Gotta - mierda! - gotta braid my hair before I go to bed or it’ll be a mess; tomorrow’s going to be bad enough. Bunch of whiny punk-ass–” Julia descends into a stream of slurred curses in Spanish.

You take a seat on the couch as Julia tries to loop two strands of hair around a third, one slips out of her hands and she has to start over. She hisses.

You watch her struggle. “Do you need to do this right now? This is painful to watch. And maybe a little sad.”

Julia stops fussing with her hair to turn and look at you. She looks like she’s about to say something, but doesn’t. Then a sly smirk spreads across her face and Julia silently scoots on the floor over to you. “Oh yeah? You think you can do better?” She turns her back to you, resting her head on her hands. “Put that master mind of yours to work girl.” He voice is light, slightly slurred.

You stare at the back of her head.

A moment passes.

Then another.

Finally, Julia asks, “Uh… Ari, you still there?”

“I’m working on it!” You snap. Part of you feels like you’ll be struck by lightning if you touch her, a fear that, with the hero Charge is perhaps not entirely unjustified. “I’m just… trying to figure it out–“

“What, didn’t your mom teach you?” Her tone is light, joking, but you can’t read her mind and now with her back to you, you can’t even read your face. You feel like you’ve be stranded in a minefield. You can’t tell her this is the longest your own hair has ever been, and you absolutely can’t tell her you’ve never had a mother. You never learned this at the Farm, why would you? You weren’t playing any women roles.

Julia has this aggravating habit of pushing at the edges of your Ariadne persona without even realizing it. Now Ariadne has a favorite color, hates the rain, has a preferred taco truck, even a sense of style, if barely. All these little details you never imagined being important. You like Anathema, she gets it. Neither of you need to pry about the other in order to enjoy the other’s company.

But unlike the rest of the Rangers, Julia can never take no for answer. Never leave well enough alone. Hell, your morning routine has tripled in length now that you actually care what you face looks like, now that you have a face even. So how does Ariadne handle this? Ariadne wouldn’t be scared of touching someone else’s hair right? She fights monsters on a daily basis.

You must have taken too long to respond because Julia’s right hand reaches back and catches your own. “Look, it’s dead easy, I’ll walk you through it.”

And she does, letting go of your hand as she walks you through it, step by step. She is right, it is dead easy, once you have the hang of it.

You cross the lefthand strand over the middle, then the righthand over both of them.

This is just some… perfectly normal bonding thing, that perfectly normal human women do.

Left over middle, right over middle.

And you’re not some imposter, you’re just… a friend taking care of a friend.

When you finish, Julia grabs an elastic band off the coffee table and slips it on to keep the end of her braid in place. She leads back and you have to quickly shift your legs so her head doesn’t end up between your thighs. “Hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Damian really sucked.”

“You don’t say,” your tone carefully diplomatic.

“And then what he called you-” You go stock still. Oblivious, Julia clenches her hand into a fist. Little blue sparks crawl out of her palm and down her arm. “I just got so mad and,” She punches the air in front of the two of you, electricity discharges from her fist to the metal rim of the coffee table with a faint zap! sound.

Julia tilts her head back up at you, her face more than a little flush. It’s too much, you have to look away. “But you know what I think?” She winks at you.

“You’re drunk, Ortega.” You caution her. Maybe if you were a real woman you would know how to handle this? How does Julia always manage to get you into the most awkward situations? Why you do you keep letting this woman keep do this to you?

Julia reaches a hand up to your face but you bat it away. “I think you’re very pretty,” she says. Something impossible snaps inside your chest.

“You’re drunk, Ortega.” You insist, suddenly feeling very tired.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero fanfic #fhr #fanfiction #fhr/Ariadne #julia ortega #trans character #wlw fanfic

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somuchtowrite · 5 years

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Lost in Translation

I was tagged by @amongwriters, sorry it took so long!! thank you for thinking of me lizzy<3

i’m translating my synopsis for lark and eli from english to greek to french to czech to german to russian to greek to english to scottish to irish to french to spanish to latin to icelandic to english!!

oh my god this is actually the funniest tag i’ve ever done akldsfjsdlkfj

after translation:

More likely he was a brother. And looking for a sense of shame I was but a little way to get to college, and building trust caused him the slowdown. Two groups are not criminals, then girls eight years.

Don't say doesn't work. Even death wants to approach. For example, when he has found a license, so you don't feel boring. A group of young men, the last thing you want is a secret, the same as Gemini were sent away people who are not all in general. He knows a human community containing homes has become mine. When Eli's sister has found a secret magic simply spread before home.

Designers have had no chance. . provisional

If someone sees his brother, it is not enough to understand the weeks, the rapid and the members of her own body. He didn't want to leave.

original:

Eli isn’t close to his brother and sister. He was hoping this could be fixed by a little bit of distance from college and slow trust-building. Not the two of them getting kidnapped by a band of cursed villains with a freaky eight-year-old girl trailing after them. Not to say that doesn’t work. but he’d rather they get closer without their deaths looming over his head.

When he learns that he’s a mage because of a blessing outside of his control, he doesn’t feel particularly lucky. Led by twin gods with secretive motives, he’s the last of a band of miscellaneous teenagers all striving for the same thing: everything to go back to normal. All they know is they were taken from their homes in the human world an taken to a new continent where they had to save their loved ones from something, for something. That, and once Eli finds his brother and sister, all they have to do is release an orb of mysterious magic before they can finally go home.

Which would be great…if there wasn’t a plot afoot. Now, Eli has to juggle his need to save his family with his desire to get to the bottom of everything going on, especially when he learns far more than he’s supposed to and far more than he knows what to do with.

But he does know for certain: one week isn’t nearly enough to save his siblings and figure out the sinister conspiracy lurking beneath the surface of the organization. And he can’t just let it go.

y’all this is SO fun. tagging (no pressure!!): @nkta-ink, @sundaynightnovels, @crowswritetoo, @marlettwrites, @mybookisbad, @omgbrekkerkaz, @tayluinwrites, and anyone else who sees this!!

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sage-thrasher · 6 years

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Extra: “Sanitize” and Sen’s Story

This is a side story for Sanitize, and it takes place after Chapter 8. It contains spoilers, and it won’t make any sense unless you’re caught up. This is more of a... what if? It has no link to the story canon. Is this actually what happened? That’s up to you. But I wanted to write it, so I did. With no further ado, here’s Decay.

Sebastian didn’t like his name. It felt like a shirt that didn’t fit, pinching under the arms, tight in the wrong places and loose in the others. He was six when he told his parents that he wanted to be called only by his nickname—Seb. It still wasn’t right. There was a sound that didn’t fit. But it was closer, much closer, and easy to ignore.

His parents indulged him. They usually did. He was a surprise baby born to an older couple who’d long given up on their dreams for children. (Seb didn’t know why being an only child made him so sad. He felt like there was a hole in his family; he always expected soft smiles and chattering and sharing things he’d never have to share.)

Seb knew he was lucky. His parents were upper-middle class, one a lawyer and the other an engineer. They loved, if not spoiled him, providing everything he’d ever needed or wanted. So why did he hate wasting food and throwing things away? Why was he so frugal, storing his allowance like it could be taken away any minute? (Why did he have these dreams?)

In school, he knew things that other kids didn’t. Seb had to learn the alphabet with the other kids, he had to read the history textbooks and study, but things came easier for him. Part of it was his parents, both who spent hours helping him learn, but some of it, he couldn’t explain. When he saw a dandelion, he didn’t want to make a wish. He didn’t admire the flower. Seb instead thought inflammation and liver problems.

Still, he was happy. Seb liked people, he liked talking to them and making friends, he liked basketball and video games and bad science fiction, and he liked to learn. He went through elementary and middle school as a gifted, social child, one who almost everybody liked.

(Sometimes, he’d pick up a printed book and marvel at how flawless it was. Sometimes, he’d look at a car or a computer and part of him would dismiss it like a normal teenager, and other times he’d stare, thinking it was magic.)

When Seb started 9th grade in a decent private school, one of the requirements was taking a foreign language. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he chose Japanese. Any of the other options—Spanish, French, Chinese, Latin—would be more practical. But something tugged at him to do it, so he did. His intuition was rarely wrong.

When Seb sat down in his first class and somehow knew the letters and words for a language he’d never heard before, he began to remember. Nothing concrete, nothing that made sense, but he remembered.

The next day, he started a garden.

The day after that, he decided to become a doctor.

Seb worked hard, in school and in his garden. He threw himself into academics with the same stubbornness he used to pull up weeds or argue with his friends. Seb was still a regular teen. He flirted with girls, went to homecoming and parties and football games. But everyone, his parents and teachers and friends, knew something was different.

He had a sense of focus, a sense of grounding and understanding that made no sense for a rich teenager to have. (Why would someone like Seb know how to splint a broken leg with a stick and a shirt without first aid training? How could he speak Japanese so well? Why did his eyes become unfocused because of the strangest things?)

In college, he majored in plant science and took all the classes he needed for medical school. When he took medicinal botany, he fell in love again, and he knew he was doing the right thing. When Seb volunteered in hospitals, shadowing and writing notes, some procedures rung a faint bell. His favorite place to observe was the ER, a place where that feeling of half-remembrance was the strongest.

He applied in his junior year and was quickly accepted into multiple programs. He picked the one with a focus on emergency medicine. Med school was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. (One of, because the dreams of holding a dying child and being unable to save her still made him wake up in cold sweats.) His fellow students joked and marveled about his steady hand in the practicals, telling him that he should become a surgeon. His professors had said so too, but Seb knew his calling.

As soon as he was able, after graduation and exams and residency, Seb joined a nonprofit and left straight to rural health clinic in the middle of nowhere.

It felt like home.

He had two colleagues: Reid, a dark-skinned Briton with Jamaican heritage, and Akari, a sharp-tongued Japanese woman. They helped him man the desk, deliver babies, conduct surgeries, drive ambulances, and everything else. The three of them had to do everything, and Seb had never felt happier or more fulfilled. Sure, the internet was spotty, he got homesick for his family, and he always had a real craving for french fries, but this was what he’d always wanted to do. It never disappointed.

The first time Seb spoke to Akari in Japanese, it had been an accident. She’d mumbled and cursed to herself after their failing ultrasound machine broke again. “Stupid piece of trash. Why do we even bother fixing it?”

“Ye, ‘tis more suited for waste heap, yet mayhap it be better than none,” he’d replied without thinking.

Startled, Akari had stared at him for several seconds, expression changing to mortification as she tried to remember all the other times she’d spoken Japanese in front of him. Her first question was then “You speak Japanese? Since when?” which was followed quickly by “You speak Japanese like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your Japanese sounds... old, like a thing from a period drama. As if you were a peasant for a samurai or lord,” she said, laughing. “But it is very good,” she quickly added. “Almost flawless. Did you learn from TV?”

He shrugged and hummed noncommittally, letting her draw her own conclusions. Akari took his agreement at face value, But, after a moment, she said, “Would you like me to teach you? How to speak more normally?”

Seb squashed down the instinctive feeling of ‘I already speak normally!’ and instead smiled. “I’d like that.”

After that, their friendship became something more. Japanese lessons became long conversations. Their brief moments of free time in the clinic were spent entirely with each other. It got to a point that their patients would giggle, asking if they should call a priest or gather flowers. Even their colleague Reid had begun to crack jokes, even complaining that the lovebirds made him homesick for his own boyfriend.

Well. They weren’t wrong. Akari and Seb did end up married, after a hopelessly long and oblivious infatuation from both sides, after fumbling dates and growing love and an even more awkward simultaneous proposal. Reid was his best man, and his speech was long and embarrassing and the funniest thing that Seb had ever heard. Everyone cried at least once, including Seb’s parents, Akari, her parents (though her father tried to hide it during his stilted speech) and Seb himself. It was one of the happiest moments of his life.

(Yet, even at the wedding, he could hear that same voice whispering: You’re twice as old as you were then. You spent twice as long on this world. Why won’t you let go?)

Akari and Seb had decided on two children. Based on the results of a coin toss, the first child would have a Japanese first name and an English middle one, and the second would have the reverse. As they flipped through page after page of baby names, scrolled through page after page, they couldn’t quite find a first name that fit both their tastes. The middle name would be Madison, for no reason besides they liked how it sounded.

It was during another session of name-searching that his wife had asked, “What do you think of Yui?”

It felt like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed it.

“Seb?”

“Yui?” he managed to say.

“Yes. I like how it flows, don’t you?”

He walked over, heart pounding, and wrapped his arms around Akari. “How is it spelled?”

“In English, it’d look like this,” she highlighted the letters on the screen, “but there are many kanji combinations that could be used for Yui.”

She scrolled down, showing him each one. One in particular caught his eye, with the symbols for only and robe. Something warm and kind and unbelievably sad enveloped him, and he could hear a voice whisper: It will be better.

He shook his head slowly. “How about this spelling?” he said, pointing at the one below it. Ties, it read. The ties that bind one person to another. One world to the next.

“I like it!” Akari grinned at him, and Seb kissed the top of her head.

When their daughter was born, when Seb sat next to his exhausted and adoring wife, when he held the little wrinkled baby who cried defiantly to the world...

“Yui,” he murmured, and he smiled through his tears.

It will be better.

And it was.

#sanitize fanfic #side #oc-insert #naruto fanfiction #extra #sanitize extra

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